an old doorbell, with magnets on the left, and a big bell with striker on the right

Bother me less (or: I don't want your notification's nose under my attention tent)

The Apple Watch seems to be inspiring a lot of uninspired thinking. Things like all the news that fits on the wrist. I for one cannot imagine why I would spend hundreds of dollars so a device can annoy me with yet more notifications. I certainly don’t need to have my work/flow/conversation/meeting/meditation/relaxation interrupted with news about people I don’t know in places I’m not. That crap can wait until I’m ready to lean back and browse the headlines....

 · Laura Lis Scott

Digital: ephemeral

What happens to this blog when I die, when I no longer pay the monthly bill? What happens to my emails when my card no longer covers the autopay on the account?

 · Laura Lis Scott


This is a post about death and dying. “There’s nothing to see here, folks. Move along, move along.” • I didn’t plan on looking at the body, but when my sister and mother did, I had to. It wasn’t him. He was done with that shell. The body that had betrayed him. He had left already, with his last breath — that had been hard to witness, had left me kind of numb....

 · Laura Lis Scott
a multicolored drawing of a face, drawn by me.

Crying lessons

I need crying lessons. I don’t know how to cry. I don’t cry like the doyennes in the movies. My cries are blubbery, snotty, croaky things. I gag and cough. My blood presses against my head. My face hurts. My eyes burn. My tummy flip-flops. Even after sleep I’m still a wreck. My body is rubber. My brain just aches. My throat is raw. I need a more sustainable solution.

 · Laura Lis Scott