In addition to being pretty, my Rove pen has two interesting additional features. The pods are magnetized into the pen so the process of switching them out or disconnecting them is simple. Just pull on the pod enough for the magnetic pull to stop. The pen knows when a pod is connected, so if you connect, disconnect, and reconnect the pod from the pen, the light on the front glows green. If you do it three times in a slightly uncomfortable hand gesture to make in public, it glows blue. The cashier told me what each of those means, but that was in March. I’m pretty sure it has to do with heating the pen before to get a better hit and cold weather. I like how it makes me feel like I’m more techy and in-the-know than I am. I’d like to provide some insight into how I charged my pen before tonight’s writing session, but I have been absentmindedly playing with it in my left hand for the better part of half an hour, so just know, actual results for this product may vary.

Once I was sitting on the patio of this amazing little bistro/music/book store that shared a strip mall with the hair salon my best friend, Laura, and I go to. This was me in my wolf cut era, wearing a Blondie shirt knowing damn well I only know Heart of Glass and prefer the Miley Cyrus version. A woman, also sitting outside, it was early April so only really warm enough for people who want to smoke, pulled out her new Rove pen and asked me how to use it. I told her the process, that green is for a quick heat for a better hit, and that blue was for trying to use it in cold weather. I’m not sure about any of that, but I often don’t remember ‘I don’t know’ is an option until after I’ve botched a social interaction. It wasn’t the truth, it wasn’t a lie, it was an honest best guess which I feel is the best one can expect from a shaggy-haired poser who uses a vape pen as a fidget toy.

I wasn’t even smoking. She just saw the pen on the table while I was reading. She had the black one and we agreed that we like how inconspicuous the pens are. I think pretty much anyone would know it’s a vape, but it doesn’t have MARIJUANA printed down the side, which you have to appreciate. I appreciate the way smokers understand when a conversation is over. After a brief discussion of the most embarrassing equipment to be seen in public with, we settled into a comfortable silence: her smoking while looking at her phone and I went back to my book.

I like to be alone, even more so when ~gardening.~ I love that phrase on TikTok. It’s such a lovely community of people who appreciate the greener things in life without getting too upset about the ridiculous amount of censorship and community guideline technicalities and just adapting. And, that morning really did inspire me to get into the other type of gardening. Neither Laura nor I are morning people. It takes me a good 45 minutes between my alarm going off and standing up. Same rule does not apply if I never go to sleep 😎. Which I physically can’t if I have any sort of appointment the next day. I can get into a work/sleep schedule, but one off commitments are a recipe for lucid dreaming that I’ve overslept every 15 to 30 minutes all night long. So I get my hair cuts at 8:00am so I can take a nap before lunch without stress. Laura schedules her appointments at lunchtime with the idea that it will take 15 minutes even though the fastest she’s ever gotten out of there was 45.

Here is a life hack. When you notice a pattern someone has that you may not love at first, just adjust a bit to make it work instead of getting upset at the same thing again and again. I bought a book and latte and was in denial that spring was still realistically four weeks away and waiting for Laura wasn’t hard. She had to wait on me to finish Louisa, Please Come Home’ and deal with the existential funk that lasted through lunch because of ‘Louisa, Please Come Home.’ Later that night, I would become hypnotized by adorable tiny Mason jars of a ridiculous variety of moonshine that made the liquor store feel like a candy store. I would allow the cutesy bottles I was considering using for plant starters to make me underestimate their contents before throwing up in Laura’s living room. Give and take, forgive and forget, live and let live, marijuana > alcohol, chicken bacon ranch pizza above all.

The book I got that day was a collection of short stories from one of my favorite authors. Shirley Jackson is absolutely incredible as a horror writer, but she shines through even more when she focuses more on the uncomfortable. She attacks the audience with its own emotions and sense of existential crisis. I don’t know if she was, like, a ‘good person,’ I have done no research beyond loving her works, but I’m also 99% sure she’s dead… so, it’s not like I’m really supporting her directly anyway.

My favorite short story from Shirley Jackson is The Possibility of Evil. It is the first entry in the collection of short stories I bought that day to wait for Laura that made me reevaluate my life. The story follows Mrs. Strangeworth, an older woman who is very respected in her small town and goes about her day with a pleasant routine and moral discipline. The problem is that all of the people she interacts with in her town are withdrawn, stressed, and angry. Fights, affairs, inappropriate relationships seem to abound the small town making fathers want to greet their daughters’ boyfriends with a shot gun, and relationships are dissolving everywhere. Mrs. Strangeworth seems to pity her neighbors wondering why it seems so hard for others to behave as appropriately as she does and she is observant to the way people seem to have lost their morals in modern society, not like in her day. She can just tell when a person is not good. This is likely why, after dinner, she writes elegant little notes on colorful paper warning people of the, possible, indiscretions of others near them. She then mails them anonymously during her afternoon walk, so people don’t get the wrong idea.

The most impactful detail of this story, however, is the detailed, intimate description of Mrs. Strangeworth’s incredible rose bushes. The story describes the dark, full leaves, scattered with large gorgeous blossoms. The most enticing aspect is that the flowers’ fragrance was supposed to permeate the air around Mrs. Strangeworth’s home; wafting in through the likely Victorian windows and down the block.

I LOVE roses. I have never been much of a plant person before, but roses are special. They are so gorgeous and hearty, and, my god, that smell~. Too bad in real life you have to stick a petal up your nostril to truly enjoy it. Oh no, turns out that roses are another example of evolving out of progress. Heritage roses are apparently rose varieties that have not been aggressively bred away from their original genetic make up and retain their original powerful scents.

I started ‘doing research’ (the first three results on Google.) Immediately, I recognized exactly the roses I pictured flooding Mrs. Strangeworth’s garden. Deep red, tea cup roses with a powerful fragrance. I have a strong preference for tea cup roses because I’m basic. I have always hated gardening, but it turns out I just hate outdoor gardening. Indoor gardening is where it’s at. There are far fewer weeds, centipedes, messing with hoses, centipedes, droughts/floods/weather in general, centipedes, brown recluses hiding under the tools in the shed… did I mention centipedes? Any creepy crawly that doesn’t come off my arm when I perform the expert gardener pest removal strategy of screaming while I aggressively shake my arm can go straight to that Clown Motel in Tonopah, Nevada.

After a bit more reading up on the history of roses and rereading ‘The Possibility of Evil’ eighteen times, I decided I wanted to start a small, curated greenhouse in my apartment starting with a prized centerpiece: a Mr. Lincoln hybrid tea cup rose bush perfuming the air. One day, David Austin tea cup roses will be back in stock and I will get one. But in the, meantime, I purchased my first rose bush from a different online nursery. I placed my order in late April. When I opened the box, there was a large crown with nine inch roots, three bright green stalks, and a handful of bright red, healthy nodes poking off the stems. However, after planting, the plant suffered from transplant shock for the first three weeks. The nodes dried up and one of the stalks turned dark.

I had developed a ChatGPT session called Thalia that serves as a green house assistant so I could record progress, watering and fertilization, and get tailored advice for each plant. Thalia recommended limiting direct sunlight and better drainage. After drilling more holes in the large bucket, I placed the plant I named Estelle on an elevated, partial sun shelf. I messaged the nursery to ask for any recommendations or advice on how to improve Estelle’s condition. They recommended I hold off on fertilizer until she stabilized. A few days later, a new peach tea cup rose plant showed up for free. I was stoked, and planted Michelle (Mee-shell like Gilmore Girls) in an identical planter as Estelle with the extra drainage already installed.

However, at roughly the same time, Estelle decided to resurrect herself and she showed up with a purpose.

Estelle was screaming “NOT DEAD!” as elegantly as she could with that little pink stem. Once she found her footing, Estelle knew no limits. I think I finally understood what my mom felt like when I graduated when I saw her first leaves. I was prepared to wait a year to get my first bloom, but Estelle couldn’t wait to show me what she’s capable of. I was getting ready to leave for Branson and she looked like this: (I found the rose in the white bucket in a brush pile, it might not make it, pretend you don’t see it 😉

I was a little disappointed that she might bloom while I was on vacation, but look at my girl go! I have the world’s best cat sitter who promised to keep me updated on my plant babies as well as my fur babies. He also promised to not let the two meet because the fur babies are assholes. He kept me apprised of Estelle’s progress and that she would likely bloom when I’m home. The last photo he sent was on Friday morning:

Stunning, gorgeous, she IS the moment, and… I would be home in time to see it bloom! In a year full of disappointment, heartbreak, rejection, and the death of democracy, finally something I was doing for myself, building for my future was turning out roses. Estelle bloomed on June 17, 2025.

Breathtaking. A vibrantly pink floribunda blossom with bright yellow stamens. She is a survivor, she is a thriver, she is beauty, she is grace, she is NOT a Mr. Lincoln. Estelle did nothing wrong and I love her, but my disappointment was also immeasurable because Estelle has no smell. She had pollen so I sneezed, but the blanket of rose scent I hoped to be greeted to was not to be found. I fed Estelle rose fertilizer, recorded her information with Thalia, and turned my attention to Michelle.

I wonder what this plant is. Maybe it’s what’s on the label, I can’t know. And he is also not handling the planting process well. Once Michelle seemed to start experiencing the same symptoms as Estelle, I placed him in a partial shade area and added even more drainage holes. However, there is still no sign of growth other than a healthy green color on the stems. So after being depressed about Estelle’s unintended deception, I relocated Michelle to the original partial sun shelf where Estelle started her journey. After I had gone back to work at my computer, I heard a loud crashing sound. Michelle brought the whole shelf down in a dirt covered mess on the floor. Have you ever waited months for something you paid for only for it to grow a middle finger while its buddy delivers a demotivating uppercut straight to the jaw? Then the Cherry Gelato Live Resin Diamond Reload Pod from Rove might be for you!

Cherry Gelato Live Resin Diamond Reload Pod from Rove

8/10

• Stylish and Discreet Equipment
• Great Conversation Starter
• It’s doing a good job of letting me find the humor in this turn of events, but for $90 I feel that I shouldn’t be crying anymore.
• I ❤️ the Charging Placebo (The Greenlight Means I Did a Good Job 😊)