No, the nuclear apocalypse didn’t happen—though honestly, give it time. And no, I’m not writing this from inside a Vault. Knowing what we know about Vault-Tec, I wouldn’t want to live in one anyway. As The Ghoul said in the Amazon series: no dogs allowed in the Vaults.

Well, that’s me done then. If the bombs ever drop, at best I’m becoming a ghoul. And honestly? I’m okay with that. Once you dive into Fallout lore and Vault-Tec’s nightmare-science experiments, you realize that surviving the nuclear blast might be the least of your problems.

I’ve been away from the blog a few days—mostly for good reasons—and I’ve got a handful of future posts coming out of it. If you saw my writing platform, you’d see dozens of half-starts: ideas that either turn into full posts or quietly die of natural causes in Draft Limbo. That’s just how my brain works now. If I hit the writer’s-block wall, I wander off toward whatever direction my ADHD brain points.

Like right now: small diversion.

I have an acrylic heart with swirling colors that contains a tiny bit of my mom’s ashes. It feels less creepy than an urn on the mantle, though considering I also keep boxes of my pets’ remains… maybe I’m not the best gauge of “creepy.” For the record, his ashes went back to his parents almost immediately. The idea of them being in this house after everything that happened? Hard pass.

My shrink says all of this is just me doing emotional damage control—protecting myself, even if I still beat myself up over that summer. I guess eventually I’ll let it go. Eventually.

Goodsprings: A Wastelander Pilgrimage

The real reason I’ve been away this week is actually pretty fun, especially if you’re a Fallout fan.

I went to the annual Fallout gathering in Goodsprings, Nevada. If you’ve played Fallout: New Vegas, you instantly recognize the name. It’s where your character wakes up after being shot in the head—relatable, honestly.

Like the rest of the Fallout universe, the story is set 200–250 years after the bombs. In the game, Vegas miraculously survived, and that’s part of its charm. But even in a single-player game (and all Fallout games are single-player except 76), you’re never really alone. Gamers always find each other. We share tips, stories, resources, all while wandering our separate wastelands.

The gathering itself started small years ago, and I always meant to go, but isolation was survival back then. Falling into single-player Fallout felt safer than facing the actual fallout of my life. Funny enough, the game saved me from the apocalypse that was my marriage.

Back to Goodsprings.

If you’ve never been: it’s tiny. Blink and you miss it. A few scattered houses, desert roads, and—of course—the Pioneer Saloon. The event is held around the saloon, and while hosting thousands of Fallout fans in a town with six parking spots sounds impossible, the organizers nailed it. You park in Primm, take a shuttle, and suddenly you’re stepping into the wasteland with thousands of people dressed like raiders, NCR Rangers, and homemade power-armor tanks.

Among My People

What surprised me most was how safe I felt.

Crowds usually overwhelm me now, but being surrounded by people who look like they walked out of the game world felt strangely comforting. Homemade armor, scrap metal cosplay, foam weapons the size of Buick bumpers—these are my people.

I haven’t been to a true fan convention for years. I never quite fit the Comic-Con or FanX demographic. I like the content, but they’ve become too big, too chaotic. Single-theme conventions feel more like reunions—everyone speaks the same language.

This one was different in the best way.

Fallout is a game that mirrors life: you’re dropped into the wasteland alone, but if you want to, you can build a crew. A squad. A family of choice. The same thing happens in Fallout 76—stay isolated if you need to, but when you’re ready, there are people waiting.

The gathering felt exactly like that.

Even with assistive devices slowing me down, I met incredible people, saw amazing art, and listened to passionate fans. Would I go again? Absolutely. It felt like coming home.

A Weekend of Fallout Everything

To double down on the theme, I also visited the Atomic Museum. Even without the Fallout comparisons, it’s absolutely worth the trip. The Nevada Test Site played a huge role in this country’s history—terrifying and fascinating at the same time.

And because my life can never be only one genre, I also saw The Wizard of Oz at The Sphere. Another must-see.

Traveling with my new shoulder was surprisingly manageable. A few hiccups, but nothing major. Honestly, travel is easier now that I’m not traveling with someone who treated airport staff like enemies in an RPG. Refreshing doesn’t even begin to cover it.

I know my dog and my mom raised me to be polite and kind. I guess that’s my own tiny NCR morality meter at work.

More to come, and I promise it won’t turn into a 20-chapter epic of my life—just the next quest marker.