Where Reality Will Byte, if You Aren't Careful What You Read... My Year's Quest.
NEW BLOG: "Apropos of Adrie"
Click here to SCROLL down to the journal entries.
The Reason for the Season
named my new blog Kicking Ass, Taking Names! because I'm burned out on fighting for myself this year. Stick a fork in me, I'm done. I'm exhuasted and a bit disillusioned. Nevertheless, I am proud of myself. Instead of sticking my head in the sand, I took care of my business this year in every way but one (that way will make itself known throughout, but let's not go there right now).
Seems like I have to know everyone else's job for them just so I can get my business conducted. Bills, utilities and internet providers and cellular companies and GAWD knows medical institutions, offices, and billing departments. Pre-authorizations, exceptions, policies and terms and conditions. Websites, APPS, Apples and Windows. Modems, Network Extenders, cellular upgrades, iPad upgrades, trade-in value redemptions from hell. What is WRONG with peeps today? Why can't they simply DO their jobs? Why do I have to spend an hour in an online chat just to be told to call them instead? Why is it they are doing the opposite of what they say they will?
What ever happened to friendliness AND competence, as a two-pronged necessity of employment, anyway? And when a mistake is made, especially an egregious error like dangerous medication being filled at the wrong milligram amount, is it so awkward they cannot issue an apology, just as a token of respect and shame? Not a lot, mind you, but it is professional. Why are they no longer so professional, businesses and institutions?
Well. I'm here to tell you that 'nice' doesn't get you all the way through an encounter with an idiot. Or, more often, with an employee more worried about covering their ass than your well being. This is also not a one-off because I have been noting this trend of gross negligence and incompetence all year long. In fact, since I had my complete pulmonary embolism (blood clots in the lung's artery, at least for me the right) in April, 2018, I have been taking copious notes.
That's right. I see you. You imbecile. You clock-puncher, only worried about your paycheck and not caring much about a job well done. Where is your integrity? Your inner fire? Do you save it for your band, your friends, or your schoolwork? It isn't exclusive you know—you can spread it around some. Add a little genuineness to that, "Have a good day, ma'am." I always had a good time while working in customer service, and I was competent, as well. Well, I certainly thought so, right. I'm not expecting you to do anything I cannot do myself except for the fact that you umm kinda get paid to do it!
So, since April of 2018, I decided to go forth in search of a better quality of life. Whata does that MEAN? It means I was miserable, really, and not for trying to cheer up either. My medical woes have taken over my life and there isn't too much I can do about it. Or is there? Yeah, so I set out on seeing all the doctors I've been meaning to over the years. Updating some scans and tests, as many as I could. I hate seeing new doctors and the specialists are kinda the worst; having to explain in a 'nutshell' forty-seven-years of medical history is not my idea of fun. In fact, I get depressed thinking about it, let alone speaking about it all. It's complicated. Therefore, I'm complicated, right? Or, perhaps I'm just an interesting 'case' the doctors should look at like the puzzle I truly am. Where's the curiosity gone?
his is why I say I have been kicking ass, and taking names! I am SICK of letting peeps get away with their insults, backhanded compliments, pithy explanations that say exactly nothing to me. Yes, I am a self-diagnostician, and thankful I am that I can still hit the mark with myself often. I'd be literally six-feet under the ground if I weren't so medically-smart, or so strong. Know your strengths, peeps, and use it to your advantage. I can't do basic math well, but I sure can take care of medical business.
Doctors and more mainstream staff just treat symptoms; they have to really want to figure out a mystery medically speaking, in order to do me any good. I am not normal, never have been, absolutely never will be. Medically, I do wish I were normal, it'd be so much easier... but no. Now I am not going to let you get away with your shit! I am going to call you on it. If you are deemed incompetent, I will do my best to fire you and find another competent person to replace you on my medical team.
And I will not apologize for it. I won't be meek, I won't hold my tongue unless I want to, I will speak plainly and bluntly. If you can't handle this patient, that's okay, but all I am asking is for you to do your job. Competently. Yes, even for me, who is "so complicated." It's like marriage vows, you don't agree to be there for your spouse only when the weather's nice out, right? Right. You have to take the good with the bad. And this all applies to my former 'good weather' friends because you know whata? Sometimes life sucks. Sometimes it really, really sucks. It can also be terrific. And this goes for everyone out there, not just me or someone who has medical issues. Nope. This is where I will mostly talk about the sucky stuff, because I need an outlet for it. I need to complain without reproach. I need to write words I might actually never say, but lately I don't know, I just MIGHT. Perhaps, I already have
Adrie's 2nd Blog
(The first one is LINKED BELOW (click on the pic) and also where you might go
if you want to get to know me—I don't leave much unsaid, I suppose. Mostly.)
I Reside With:
Faith is to believe what you do not see;
the reward of this faith is to see what you believe. ~Saint Augustine
Obligatory Mood TRIBUTE Video:
Dedication: This live performance from STAIND is stellar, but then he is always so wonderful live. I've gone through the gamut of music this past week, everything from Disturbed to everything TOOL's ever recorded and quite a few of their live performances as well; from Everclear to Coal Chamber; to Incubus through to System of a Down. Yup. I settled on this song because when I think of my old friend Gus, I think of why and how he ever became referred to as 'Crazy Gus' (and rightfully so). Dude was a hard, hard rocker; we're talking about a guy that went to so many concerts, I doubt he could list them all if he had tried. The fact that he dragged me around to System of a Down, Lollapalooza 1997 to see The Prodigy and TOOL, Everclear at the Hard Rock LA, and geez... so many more venues around Hollywood and bands than I ever remembered before... before his death. He died rather suddenly September 19.
|"Blog City ~ Every Blogger's Paradise" DAY 2050: November 15, 2019.
What was the strangest thing you’ve ever seen in public?
Great question. I've watched drag queen shows that were titillating, I've seen people play 'Frogger'1 in the middle of the street with traffic, and I've witnessed a couple of different cultures. But I'm not a particularly adventurous type of person, so nothing too shocking have I seen. Perhaps. Mostly. But there was this one time...
My mom was driving on the 10 Freeway West just entering La Puente, California, when we saw a very bright white umm THING in the road; it was dodging the somewhat slower traffic at the beginning of 'rush hour' so I was able to watch it up ahead for a bit. Kind of seemed like a s l o w motion moment. We both said, "Duck!" And were riveted. It dodged a semi-truck, moved over a lane towards us. Dodged an Accord, advanced another lane. We were wanting to cover our eyes because there's NO WAY it was going to get out of this alive. No way.
Yeah, soon enough it came to our lane and we were about oh—the very first ones to hit it going about 60 MPH. There was nothing to do for it, you can't slow down much in bumper-to-bumper traffic of the Los Angeles variety. But oh man, I can still hear the CRUNCH of its cute orange duck-bill. Only today I realize it wasn't even a duck, it was totally a goose! It was larger. Poor dude. But he was gone in an instant...
I figure he must've broke out of a poultry transport truck, but who knows? Anything's possible in LA
|Not been anywhere. Missed deadlines in my medical groups and around here too. Got this awful GERD (gastroesophegeal reflux disease) that I've had since diagnosis in 2000 through endoscopy, but ended up accidentally forgetting to take my Protonix for a week and OMG. It's like two month's (almost) later and I'm nauseous most of the day. It's not heartburn, but nausea and a slighter burning I guess... I never notice my GERD usually unless I'm recycling cans and have to smell that old beer smell (puke!) or I might occasionally have acid in my throat.
I been doubling my Protonix thinking it will respond but it hasn't. So now I need to see my dr The doctor whom I only just got months ago and who is now leaving. Ugh. Regardless, point is I feel l like shit so I'm not here Doesn't mean I haven't been working though...
There were so many things I could have written about my friend Gus, yet I chose the hardest one: his alcoholism. I never quite know why I choose to focus on what I do in my writing, but it's bothered me a lot since hearing of his sudden death at just 54 in September. No one will touch the topic because most of the friends drink too. And I guess because it seems like it's not only a taboo subject, but not the best way to pay tribute to someone.
Then again, I have to think he's more enlightened now that he's gone, and as it began on the heels of his mother's drug overdose (labeled a suicide) I think it's important to talk about openly. His alcoholism didn't negate Gus as a person—he was still in there, although less and less obvious was his real self as the years ticked by. I mean, I couldn't live with him anymore, but if you took away the drinking he was a great person to live with! Neat, tidy, great at cooking, shopping, and took pride in his environment.
Anyways, the only person I know who's read it so far is my bestie and she said it was obvious how much I cared, and that's one of the most important messages you want in a tribute, so... although why she doesn't just pick a rating without reviewing is beyond me I think of ratings like calling cards: I was here. I read it. This is the rating that most accurately portrays my feelings on it. Ba da ba bing! People are too afraid to offend. Yeah, that sounds like her, she's a sweetie. Was thinking of putting it on NO RATINGS just emails once it's how I want it to be. Of course, I think it's good as-is, but ya never know what can improve with suggestions!
Speaking of, someone's, or some ones, are going around and changing my ratings in my items lately It's kinda funny because I give much thought to my ratings, even on something as simple as a picture. I guess there's a new interpretation of the 'fuck' rule: If you say it once, your 18+ is perfect. If you say it 'multiple' times, it's gotta be a GC Rating. We all know this, the longer you're here you do, at least. HOWEVER if you say it TWICE, well that's considered 'multiple' times now so best change that 18+ to GC. I always thought twice meant 'a couple' of times, but those words aren't used in the "Writing.Com 101" .
Now my other item needed the rating changed, that was fine with me, somehow I was born imperfect and missed that lol. Ooopsies. So, if you're wondering why I changed the rating in here when I hardly cuss, it's because I've cussed in 'fucks' more than once
Oh and don't forget the 'murder' rule! If it's in your INTRODUCTION you best make that a 'Non-E' introduction, as I did in my recent "Passive Suicide" I mean, suicide is death, a murder of thyself so to speak, so it only makes sense. I put that rating from 18+ to GC because I just wasn't sure, it seems the consensus is leaning more to the higher ratings these days than in the past. Some of this IS subjective, after all... not the hard and fast rules, but the in-between areas of the rules. Yes I care about this shit! Plenty of other things I could care less about and be slightly rebellious, but if it's a rule it's a rule and I shall follow it!
(Please refrain from saying how the rules are made for everyone and it's nothing personal. I am not taking it personally, trust me: then, I'd post formally about it, or complain, or something else annoying. I've moderated on other sites, I 'get it'. No, I do. Seriously. I'm just saying I now have to go through my whole port and see if I cussed in 'fucks' more than once—but less than thrice—in any other items. Yes, I know we are to err on the side of caution and bump up when in question, and I do and I shall continue to do so, but sometimes there's no question to start with. Now, there is. Oh I bumped up my last blog too, should anybody ever go there... But seriously, if I missed it once, I could've missed more items... .)
Bottom line? Count your 'fucks' Also, don't be afraid to tell Whata whata you think of her items; I mean, if you're gonna go to the lengths of actually reading them, leave a star without speaking (no problems, nice to know you visited!) or your review comments. Whatever. I do not freak out if I get a 3 star rating only from someone, I figure they didn't have the heart or maybe the time to comment more. No biggie.
The only problem I ever have with reviews is when I have a humongously long item and someone says, Ahh I saw this error and didn't bother reading the rest, might want to fix that. Which is great, I appreciate the head's up, but how can you assign a rating to something you only read 1% of? And if you KNOW how to fix it, I surely would love to know, too! I'll throw GPs at ya, please, tell me! Chances are I knew it might be an issue but my brain has no clue how to fix it. It doesn't work right. I also don't learn well from reading so yes, your opinions and suggestions for edits really are important to me! Thanks for stopping by
PS: I've had to work with a deadline looming on financial paperwork. PLUS, I re-sorted all my graphics files and reorganized them when the internet wasn't working, offline, then when we came back online they jammed up in a huge traffic jam and it will be another week probably before I have access to them all. They're at 80,000 uploading, which I highly doubt I actually have that many you know, but methinks they count each MOVE and RENAMING of the files and their folders individually, so like, giant ooopsies there! Ah the learning curves in life
PPS: Actual number of graphics images and my writing documents stored in my Dropbox account: 117,000 Oh DEER! There ARE some duplicates for easier finding though as I get the organization down... I'm an image hoarder
|"Blog City ~ Every Blogger's Paradise" DAY 2040: November 2, 2019.
When did you first know you were truly loved?
In 2009, when I listened to the word of God being read from the Bible on a satellite feed on my TV. Then my Pastor, Arnold Murray of Shepherd’s Chapel in Gravette, Arkansas, USA, explaining how He made me because He wanted someone just like me. How He may not love everything I do, but He loves me.
All my life I sought approval and love from men, but I longed for more. Always more. Just feeling incomplete. Then I found Him, and recognized finally that I am a part of the collective whole—it wasn’t just about and for everybody who grew up with the bible—His love and His mercy included me.
|"Blog City ~ Every Blogger's Paradise" DAY 2032: October 25, 2019.
Everyone’s addicted to something in some shape or form. What are things you can’t go without?
Hmmm. I make my technology my priority. I have my cell phone, and it is needed for emergencies out here in the forest without a landline. I have a Mini iPad5 that I use mostly for my graphics, and a 12.9" iPad Pro Gen3 for writing. I haven't been writing on it since I got it though because the size is different so my keyboard doesn't work on it. Got one in my wish list! And I pay for the highest plan available for my cellular because my wifi sucks. Otherwise, I don't have anything fancy, just my Apples
I am totally addicted to grapes. I seriously dig them. And fresh corn on the cob which I am about to eat now. Love it. And frozen vanilla bean yogurt! With root beer this year. Next year it might be a chocolate yogurt with it, something. Feels good on my gums I have been on a homemade nachos kick the last two years. I take mexican store bought chips, add some salsa juice, perhaps open a can of pinto beans and use some, tons of green onions (which I also love) and cheese. Avocado with a little bit of lemon and mayo is a bonus! A little bit of ketchup. Ta da.
After a month or so I absolutely will kill for a chocolate bar. Just need some! And I love my Moscato Red wine, but once I drink it all I usually don't buy any for a couple of months. I have to sip it, literally, sparingly with my blood thinner... if anything, I'd say I'm addicted to my cats. And cats in general. I think in cat. It's one thing I do well, and they appreciate my attention and taking care of em.
Plus I AM addicted to buying graphics on etsy.com
|"Blog City ~ Every Blogger's Paradise" DAY 2033: October 26, 2019
Use these fabulous e words in your blog entry today. Have fun.
Oh I'm already tired thinking of using all these words No seriously. It's not the prompt's fault: I'm just really tired. My steroid withdrawal by only 1mg less a day was going super—for ten days—then my all day soujourn to my appointment just wiped me out. Sometimes it be that way. It's rare I sleep very much because of my pains, but since changing my schedule whoa yup I usually nap in the afternoon but I wakeup way before dawn. So, even though I am sleeping more, the effect is actually I am up longer hours. Who gets up at 3am? Me. It does ensure more quality time with my cats though
My expenditures are increasing this month and next month: Obamacare open enrollment premiums are gonna go up as they have every year since its inception, 2014. The economists swear it'll go down, but no way! Used to be $50 now it's $613 premium, per month. Not happy. I'll eat my foot if it's any lower this year... ha. Speaking of medical, why DO my ears always itch? I always think it's an earwax buildup, but it's not and I've no idea why they itch so. It's vexing!
Excavate. What? Whata word! I need to excavate my kitchen under all the dirty dishes and that may be gross but it's true *sigh* Once I get too sick to clean, it goes downhill quickly. Then I don't want to touch them because it makes me gag. I am perfectly able to keep cleaning up, for the most part, when I am not constantly ran over by that steroid train, but this year it's been ridiculous. I never recovered my house from being out so long with the PE. Just something to endure; if I 'just work through it' my tapering will be for naught as I'll have to go UP on the steroids, past the point I was at before. Frustrating. By the way, 'endure' is one of my favorite words. It says a lot without any obfuscations.
Out of the six previous romantic relationships I've had in my life, only four are still alive. That I know of. They're dropping like flies! I'm still trying to work on a tribute in writing for my friend Gus, who was also an ex, yes—but remained a friend. 54 is too young to die. It bothers me that there's no one to really talk to about him that wants to face the truth of his death, and how he lived his life. My mom is there though, she liked Gus too! He was a character in every sense of the word. I think he came to me the other night. I've been having these visits lately.
In the first moment of opening my eyes from sleep, I will see something or someone I know cannot possibly be there. It started out with me seeing spiders on my bed. I would jump and scream and tear apart the house to find it, make sure I got rid of it, but nothing. Nada. I always find the culprit or my cats do so it wasn't good. It happened every time I woke up for that week. Then it moved to objects looking way different than they should: I saw a 'box' on my floor, complete with packing tape and a label and everything. I thought my mom had opened my front door and delivered it. She said no. I was freaking out! Who broke into my house? When I got up, I could see it was just the play tent for my cats. Yet I SAW this box.
So, these events kinda kept happening. Then I opened my eyes and naturally they could see into the kitchen. There was a figure completely in black: like black sweatshirt with a hoodie, and sweatpants in black. It looked to be about Gus's size. But there were no areas that weren't black. I was not at all afraid, hell anything's better than spiders. I am really, really secure in my faith, and I've had a couple visitations years and years ago when my friend and then again when my dad died. But this... I have indeed been worried about him hanging around. We want our peeps to move on, ya know? Yeah. I don't feel like he absolutely has.
The next night, same thing figure in the kitchen. Only this time it was a woman, a woman in a burgundy colored sari. An Indian woman, real pretty. Ugh yeah I don't know anyone like her... I have no idea who she is. She was there for me to see so very briefly, then was gone POOF! I felt like I wasn't actually supposed to see her. Gus I felt like I was.
It might not have been Gus, I am aware of that; perhaps someone who lived here a long time ago. It is a 100 year old farmhouse and property, old in my area, but I just don't want to assume it's my friend. Regardless, these events don't scare me and I know the lore is anything in black is a shadow person or an entity or something evil, but I do not at all feel this is the case. I do have spiritual discernment I have developed, so I do trust in my observations. This all only occurs in the very first moments of waking up. In the past things have happened here and there in my sleep, lucid dreaming, etc.
So, I feel I am in a very open state mentally. I got a lot going on up there right now. Lots of family stuff. But, 'tis veddy interesting, non?
|"Blog City ~ Every Blogger's Paradise" Day 2118 October 11, 2019
Prompt: What are your five best organizational tips?
Hmmmm. Okay! The first tip goes for those around here, and how I think you *should* be organizing your Portfolio I guess it hearkens back to the old days of being a library assistant, and organizing my own collection throughout my adulthood, and before the advent of the Kindle e-reader:
I swear, I think people can't do this so well anymore. The books at my used bookstore? Almost alphabetized correctly. Everything these days seems to be out-of-place. Around here, nobody seems to alphabetize the Portfolio and its folders: PLEASE people, for my sanity, why would you expect your readers to root around in such muck? Alphabetize!
(2). Everything has a place. If it doesn't have a place, you need to find it a home that makes sense so you can put it back there. I do not currently ascribe to this as I've been moving in for a couple years and nothing much has a place. I need to purchase more places, completely lacking *sigh*
(3). Computer Files: These also need a home, and it is one thing that I work on a lot. If I can't find it, what use is it to me? So I make a LOT of folders. I also quit the Cloud-cloud and now use Dropbox. 2TBs space for $10 a month. Best of all, it's great for all my images! It does take time and wi-fi power to get it up there but once there, it is quite secure and easily accessible from all my Apples (iPhone and iPad) which is huge to me, and quite unlike the Cloud
(4). Don't brush your teeth in the sink. Brush em in the shower. Less mess. Always makes a sink mess!
(5). Cat condos, toys, literal cardboard boxes, and all other cat-related things do not count with these rules It's their house, I just live there...
|"Blog City ~ Every Blogger's Paradise" Day 2116 October 9, 2019
Prompt: Surprises. Write about some good and some bad surprises you have had.
Oddly enough, I don't think I've had a good surprise. Not really. Good gifts, yes, like the time my sister bought us tickets to go to the Les Miserables production in Los Angeles! It was fantastic. Best ever. Great memory. But surprises in general eh tend to be more negative in my experience... and I definitely don't want to go THERE tonight
|"Blog City ~ Every Blogger's Paradise" Day 2116 October 9, 2019
Prompt: "I always cling to things that remind me of being a kid again." Melanie Martinez. How do you feel about this quote?
Well I don't really identify but in one little way with nostalgia about being a kid again, probably because I don't consider my childhood to have been all that swell, like many peeps. Yeah, I was a huge candy connoisseur as a kid, used to actually steal change from my mom's purse because she didn't like us to have many sweets. It was never about buying the same candy bar or pack of taffy to me, no, I had to sample everything in the store!
We have this area at our local (way over-priced) grocery store that is ALL nostalgia candy. Did they see me coming, or whata Actually, I haven't bought any, I just look and salivate. It's completely nostalgia based, none of it is really any different than the candy of today, but the packaging and the names evoke my memories of gorging on sweet, delicious candy. I mean they have shredded bubble gum that is supposed to be like tobacco 'chew'; gold coins; even Pop Rocks! Man, nothing beats that slightly dangerous feeling of those rocks popping in your mouth as you imagine choking on them (as some people actually did!)
It wasn't about McDonald's Happy Meal toys in my era, it was all about the candy...
|"Blog City ~ Every Blogger's Paradise" Day 2115: October 8, 2019
Prompt: Can you come up with a poem out of a list of your own rules? The rules can be about anything you wish. If you don’t wish to write a poem it could be a story or a prose piece.
Rules of my house
Include no louse,
I can't stand a bug
(Even under the rug).
I don't like sweating
When they zoom around with the 'crazies';
But my six cats prefer petting
Over catching critters—how lazy!
New cats are great at catching bugs and stuff, the older ones are far too full to bother. Darn it I want another kitten but no way, no how, I got two orange boys that are Thing 1 & Thing 2 from Dr. Seuss
|"Blog City ~ Every Blogger's Paradise" Day 2108 October 1, 2019
Prompt: Is there anything you can think of that hasn’t been yet invented but you would really like it to have been invented? What kind of a thing or machine or even a law could that be?
Well, I have a serious reply and a comedic reply for you, Joy. The somewhat comedic answer is someone SO NEEDS to develop a system for cutting cat claws! Yes, I know there is that rotary sander thing and I have a professional one, but my cats did not like it. Now most (eleven out of twelve) of my cats are rescued strays so they were not raised or gentled early enough in life to take grooming well. If I worked harder on it with them, I'm sure most would allow me more grooming, but you pick your battles.
So, the clippers: there is NO cat alive that LIKES their paws clipped. There are many who will tolerate it, but they absolutely hate this. My cats never get used to it. Only two let me do their nails without another person holding them quite forcibly. And no, I never cut them at all, not even close. My kitten who is normally a docile boy refused to let me touch his paws at all! Certainly I couldn't cut them. It's a wrestling match every.single.time.
So, I want an invention kinda like this guy made on utube. Leave it up to a guy. He took a handbag purse, cut four holes into the bottom, and well... see for yourself *giggles*:
So, anything that works with as little struggle as possible! When they move it's so hard to clip those claws. I know, supposed to use a towel and wrap them like a mummy, but my cats are like eels so slippery I just have a hard time with this. I need a better helper too, my mom has seriously pooped out on this duty with me the last couple years! Back surgery will do that to ya.
As for the serious, that's easy: We need some of the laws that have been drafted to be finalized and adopted into law for animal welfare. Farm animals should be killed in the most humane and safe-for-consumption way possible; cats and dogs should be considered not property, as they are now, but as pets and the laws should be accordingly adjusted so that their theft, abuse, and absolutely their neglect is not only against the law but punishable and ENFORCEABLE in all 52 states in America, so maybe the rest of the world could adopt these policies eventually, for those that haven't already. Basically, animals rights... because it's needless. And the Number 1 change to animal laws: No more breeding. Breeding creates backyard breeders and this is where many of the animals we rescue come from! The atrocities... and just having too many animals. Without breeding there would STILL be pets, it would take a while for the population to thin out for sure. At least in America.
Yup. I am passionate about animals but rarely do anything about it other than some background rescue stuff, and all my cats but one are throwaway cats—they wouldn't have survived without intervention. No need for all that... I think it's quite indicative of a selfish society that we can't make some pretty simple changes in how we do things in regards to our 'best friends'. They count on us to help them.
|"Blog City ~ Every Blogger's Paradise" Day 2107 September 30, 2019
Prompt: Do you think, in some restaurants, choosing what to eat from an intricate menu can resemble an odyssey? If you had such an experience, how did you handle it?
Well, in theory, yes eating out and ordering from an intricate menu can seem like an odyssey of sorts. However, it's super simple to avoid hoity-toity menus with too many choices and unrecognizable fare: don't go to hoity-toity restaurants I don't. Without work and having to hob-nob, I can go where I want and I do not want to eat at an establishment where the napkins are folded into swans. No thanks
|"Blog City ~ Every Blogger's Paradise" Day 2104 September 27, 2019
Prompt: Tell us about your writing process – do you like music or quiet, is there a special place you go to work, do you type from the beginning or write notes with a pen and paper first?
My writing process is like the rest of me pretty much, so I fly by the seat of my emotions. If I am in a serious mood then I might have no noise, no music in the background. If what I am writing flows easily I'll definitely listen to music, whatever I feel like or what fits the material. I mostly only match the writing's mood with music when writing poetry, as that's my angsty, gotta-think-about-it endeavor. There are days like yesterday where I spent so long wrapped up in utube and my music that I couldn't focus on any writing so just went over to some coding...
I have been writing on my mom's PC. I need a new keyboard for my new iPad Pro, so it's not setup like the laptop it was before and is harder to type on. Plus, my cats aren't especially great at letting mama 'work'. They were all sleeping a few weeks back, and I awoke from a particularly vivid lucid dream and wrote a freestyle-type poem. It ended up being 222 lines I don't normally write in freewriting style, as in stream of consciousness off-the-top-of-me-hed writing; I usually correct mistakes and grammar and punctuation as I go, preferring that to too much editing afterwards. After the poem is written, I like to work on the presentation and not be distracted by the syntax and stuff.
Everything is allowed to change with my whims; I am not at all a regimented, disciplined person, nor writer. I feel strongly that for me my writing should be rather organic, go-with-the-flow type of thing. I don't want to read the same in every poem, nor in other items, although we all have our own styles that can be isolated by any we might call a fan. No, I want it to just—BE.
"Blog City ~ Every Blogger's Paradise" Day 2102 September 25, 2019
Prompt: "Life is too short to not have oysters and champagne." Chris Binkley What are your thoughts about this quote?
Yeah, I'm not too impressed with the quote or the meaning of it. It goes two ways for me: (1) Life is too long, not too short; and (2) Let us not kid ourselves that we can excuse much excess by allowing ourselves to 'live it up' too much. It's not as dire as it sounds, I just think the whole quote is a bit of a cop-out on responsible living. And umm... realism
Obviously it's okay to indulge in things sparingly and moderately, given the type, but since we're talking about food you know, we might want to watch how often we allow ourselves 'treats' while making up these pithy excuses for ourselves to partake more of them. This sounds really harsh, but it's just what hits me first on this quote. Well, second, actually.
The whole 'life is too short' shit is just that—utter crap. Life takes forever! Remember when you were a kid and you could.not.wait to grow up? I do. Life has always gone fastest when it's been good, and ever-so-slow when it sucks. Then again, me and Mr. Time are not the greatest of friends; it's always flowed a bit differently from how it passes by for others, seemingly. When I was on pain medication it went by so incredibly fast; I couldn't figure out my appointment times, the dates flew by so fast I couldn't catch them. Now time seems slower than it has in a while, and truthfully it tends to depend on my pain level.
Pain level: Too high today. The referred doctor's office is obviously not worried about getting me into his tight schedule anytime soon, and I already tracked down my 'missing' referral that cost me nine whole days of waiting! Oh yeah, because they ate it. Or their fax did. Or you know, something...
And my pharmacist filled the wrong dosage of steroid pills and although I caught it, two weeks later I still managed to take too high of a dose thanks to this error. Never fear he was told quite forcefully what happens when you need steroids to live, AND you have a gross sensitivity to them. He felt bad but we are buddies now, right Jacob Yeah, right! Now I gotta come 'down' from the high I get from the dose increase, and it will be another week until I'm back on my regular maintenance dose. NOT HAPPY. I think it shows. Sorry. This is real life, this is how it goes sometimes... time for bed!
My bad moods never last for long, and Jacob is okay because the two pills look almost identical and everyone makes mistakes. I am positive he won't make this one again though... I've basically been bed-ridden last couple days and that's what happens when it's bad. Strict survival mode. My brain fog is so thick I need a ship's horn to warn peeps away—please, no math, no thinking! Lol. I've been working on my memorial tribute to my friend Gus, and it's proving to be quite challenging... I often resort to graphics when too foggy to trust myself to walk and talk at the same time.
And I usually stay away from people and blogging and talking too much while in a fogged state of mind or a bad mood. Tonight I didn't. Oh well. This Too Shall Pass, and likely soon!
But Life really isn't and has never been too short for me. Other than my cats live's and wanting them with me longer, I can't say anything's ever been sustained enough at a great level to want to freeze time. Nah, time can continue on as he will and I'll do the same. One day at a time.
|"Blog City ~ Every Blogger's Paradise" Day 2098 September 21, 2019
Prompt: Talk about one of your favorite industry (writing) -specific books you’ve ever read. Include some of your favorite passages or quotes.
I've finally come across a prompt I can't write about. I never read any books on the craft of writing, nor do I really want to. I find my creative genius seriously muted when I try to improve my writing skills through reading these types of books. Ha ha yeah I'm some genius!
I really do believe in a more 'organic' writing approach though and if I try to improve that through other means I really end up intimidated, pressured, and/or otherwise neurotic about writing. I don't want to stop writing altogether, so this is one way I deal with the occasional urge to quit. No one puts pressure on me like me, so this is a highly individual thing; I am not at all against bettering yourself through books as a writer, and am totally supportive of whatever one needs to do to keep writing!
Plus, we all need a break after my last entry, non? Oui. Oh oui!
|"Blog City ~ Every Blogger's Paradise" Day 2096 September 19, 2019
Prompt: What was your favorite game when you were a kid?
Ah, well... I played a lot of games! Mostly individual, acting-type of play. Geez, how do you say—I'd enact scenes real and mostly imagined from my favorite shows. We have Conan, the Barbarian (the original from the 1980s, of course); Charlie's Angels (a favorite); Wonder Woman; the Bionic Woman; you get the gist here. I didn't have much in the way of props, and I was mostly playing in the dirt outside, but I made it work. Running, jumping, lunging. Always after the 'bad guys' yeah, that was me!
The real game was playing with my Barbies. Oh I was into it all: the Barbie Corvette, the Barbie Dollhouse, the Barbie dolls (whichever I could get!) and the Barbie clothes. Christmas was for Barbies I didn't get all the actual Barbie brands because they were expensive, but I got enough and I was very inventive. I made bed furniture for the dollhouse out of overturned Kleenex tissue boxes, with a washcloth over them for the bedspread. I once made an entire dollhouse (couple stories!) out of straws with little connectors. Side tables were overturned pizza takeout plastic round-thing-a-ma-bobs you get in the middle of pizzas (what do those DO?).
The real fun Barbie/dollhouse things to make were the pools. Oh yeah. You get a container, you fill it with water, and everyone gets nekkid I wasn't into Ken so much, too perfect and hoity-toity I thought, but nevertheless my girls had their dates and their trial smushy-faced, fake plastic kisses. Mostly in the pool
The Barbie Corvette was real nice. Bright pink. It actually was a remote-controlled vehicle, but that broke so early on I hardly remember it. I do remember this Corvette well, and in the manual mode of no working power, I learned how to turn the tires the opposite way when I needed to backup. Yeah. My Barbie Corvette taught me a thing or two about driving that kinda came in handy when I was in high school Driver's Education
As far as board games, I'd play anything I could possibly bribe my sister to play with me. Connect Four, Checkers, Backgammon, Monopoly, Life, Sorry!, Chutes & Ladders. Oh yeah. As an adult I learned to play Chess and I think that's kinda fun online but not against a computer, you need a chess buddy. I haven't had a chess buddy since Tewodros my Ethiopian flirty friend. Now he was fun! A genius IQ he won a full ride scholarship from Addis Ababa to the University of Tokyo (I think that's the name) where he studied robotic engineering. His side hobby was building an automatic knitting machine. And meeting ladies in the chess room I have met some super interesting peeps!
Anyways, I find dolls very creepy now. I don't have any. I was just using my imagination in the best way possible at the time, in an individualistic play-endeavor, I guess. None of it carried on into my adulthood—it didn't make me romanticize getting married or having kids. Romance books mighta done that though
That's NOT a Chevy in there. They missed that detail. Ha! Ha ha ha!
|"Blog City ~ Every Blogger's Paradise" Day 2093 September 16, 2019
Prompt: Write about the worst house, apartment, or a hotel room you’ve lived in or stayed. Why did you think it was the worst place to be?
When I was about twenty-five, I got a job at the San Bernardino County Mental Health Services Department. Yup, county job, something I had been trying to get for a couple years. I had the title of Clerk II., if I recall correctly, but it was an experimental job shared between two departments: Records, and Patient Intake/Registration. That second department isn't right but I can't remember what it was called, basically where you check peeps in for their appointments, make return appointments, answer the phones, etc. Secretary stuff but you also have to work with the doctors and the LCSW (Licensed Clinical Social Workers) etc. So the position was to help out in Records as the main dude, Charles, had been doing it alone for years and was having some medical issues. The other department was always understaffed, of course.
So this position was at the old county building in the city of San Bernardino, proper, but I lived in Upland about 30 miles West. I needed a place cheaper and closer to my new job, and I picked up a roommate from my current transitional job (very bad job time in Southern California in the 90s) at Thrifty Car Rental at the Ontario Airport. Now that was a fun job! I had no issue getting jobs, keeping them was another thing entirely as I frequently got bored or wanted to move up the pay ladder. I began looking for an apartment, but it was a more run-down area and I needed to have a cat or two as well.
My boos, Leticia, heard about my search and offered to hook me up with her parents who owned a four-plex rental not even a mile away. I was a bit skeptical on the area. It's the same area I lived in my first ever apartment when I separated from the husband at age 18. But she kinda insisted and I kinda needed a place, so I met with her parents and looked it over. There wasn't much to see; it was such a basic apartment, located on the second floor with a garage carport underneath it. It had a living room, an open kitchen area, small, and a barely there space for a dining table I didn't have. There was one bathroom, one bedroom, all perfectly adequate.
The place looked clean enough, nothing to write home about as they say, but respectable. It wouldn't be the hub of parties or get-togethers anyway—as I don't socialize much—but it would do. The price was right, I had a paying roommate, and if my car died I could even walk to work. I took it.
The boss's parents were a bit quiet, but I figured it was more a language barrier than anything as they were Mexican and Spanish was their native language. Very common where I grew up and anywhere in Southern California. In fact, I grew up partially Mexican it was such a normal part of the culture and area. They kept repeating rules as if I was a party-er, but that's nothing new I mean I was young I just wasn't social, not something most peeps understood.
Upon moving in, my roommate Gus was worth his weight in gold as he turned out to be a great cleaner Yay! But the stove was so dirty underneath the burners, when you lift up the stove top? We were both pretty disgusted. I can tell you I didn't clean it. Gus and came to a quick decision lol he could clean and pay less rent Worked for both of us.
Within a couple months, however, it was obvious my position was a failed experiment. Neither department had enough of me and I was stretched too thin. I really liked working with the records, less public and more doctor interaction worked for my introvertedness. Mind you, I've always been able to 'blend' quite well but I get now why things were harder for me socially. It's not hard to socialize per se, but it is draining in the extreme. I didn't know all this then though.
What was really going on was this incredibly weird vibe between my boss Leticia, her parents the landlords, and my co-worker Charles in Records. Turns out Charles was in a union lawsuit/disagreement with the county about working overtime without pay, and likely quite a few other issues as well. My boss Leticia was strange to me. She was an intense type who talked a lot and would get excited at telling her stories of going out for drinks with our other co-worker, Gracie (how do I remember their names from so many years ago?). I wasn't interested in their nightlife, and they invited me out with them for drinks many, many times but I always said no. I wasn't interested in spending all day with people only to go out and socialize with them after work, something I wasn't comfortable doing period.
I became aware of a problem as Leticia started leveraging work issues with going out with them. It felt as if I was being strong-armed at the least into going out with them, and downright threatened at worst. She wasn't teaching me the job very well, either; oh I knew how to work with the patients and the doctors and I had no issues there, but the reports? She wanted me to run mathematical and statistical manager reports for her. Operative word here is 'manager' reports! This was her job. She also completely sucked at teaching; I literally would sit and look at the large dot-matrix printouts with horror. I had no clue what to do with them. It got to be a point of contention, and her boss just thought it was me. I wasn't stupid but I needed more help, I mean it WAS math, right? Right. I suck at math.
I went out a couple of times, gave in to peer and managerial pressure, and that was the kiss of death. We had an okay time at the local Mexican restaurant, I had one drink and a good meal. But I also could not afford to go out! I made such a paltry amount over the minimum wage I mean the perks in the job were the benefits, great benefits. My refusing to go out more just created this resentment and it began to bleed over to her parents! They started harassing me about WEIRD and ODD things. The laundry, the cat, the car, and most of it was "be sure to..." type of things because I didn't do much wrong.
I resented living there, half of my new job, and this one family who was involved in it all. I didn't understand why I was being held hostage to their weirdness. The landlords were cold and would meet me in parking lots to collect the rent. Odd. It was like they hated me and I had no clue as to why. Eventually I understood it was their daughter, my boss Leticia, who was the linchpin and the common-denominator here. So I gave my notice on the apartment, and Leticia started this grievance procedure at work against me. We ended up in a meeting with the top LCSW that I respected, and her boss that I thought was okay. Turns out she attacked my work, so I attacked her in kind. I told how she was holding not socializing with her and Gracie enough against me. It came off more like I thought she was sexually embarrassing me, I think, when it wasn't true and I just think the attack shocked me too much to be able to express myself well. Besides, she was the boss, and I wasn't.
They fired me. I knew they were going to do it, and I stubbornly stayed on until they did. I shouldn't have done that as it was a dead six months on my resume that served no purpose. Nobody believed me, although I think the LCSW did, but his hands were tied against a bunch of women who weren't interested in helping me out. My work at Records was superb, and poor Charles was not happy I was leaving. But the other place... forgetttaboutit.
So the time comes to hand over the keys to the apartment to the landlord/parents, and they lifted the stove and saw it was a mess. I lost it, yelling about how it was a mess when I moved in as well! They denied it. Gus thought I had lost my mind and he sent me to the car as he cleaned it. They charged us for blinds that were already broken, and they just looked clueless as to why I was so pissed. I couldn't express myself well then, my anger with my past and present making it really difficult to be diplomatic. I just wasn't... finished, ya know? Rough around the edges. Too quiet. Not many opinions. I was still figuring out who I was.
I've lived in many, many places in my life and this one stands out because it was this whole convoluted relationship thing that I was so in over my head with. I didn't want that, I only wanted a fair price for a decent place. Funny thing is, I had another incident with a boss who got too close too soon with me, and it too blew up in my face. Only that time, I had truly learned my lesson—I quit well before it wormed its insidious way into my work. That one's another story but I was much better prepared to handle it, and so I did and I feel proud of myself because it was a doozy.
Peeps: Keep work and home life separate. It's great if you get along well enough to mix it up some, but never assume other peeps want to. Yeah!
For those who own Converse sneakers, especially the Chucks, can you answer me this?
Can you look at them and tell me which one of the symbols below is correct? I think it's the navy star, but not sure. It's a detail I need to add to my converse graphics (I love hi-tops but my feet are not flat but high-arched and will hurt bad in them, so none for me. In the 80s though... yeah I didn't care.) Thanks!
Fivesixer (Halloween version) I know you have these...
|"Blog City ~ Every Blogger's Paradise" Stolen Prompt from "30-Day Blogging Challenge"
Prompt: It's said that beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Describe something that you think is beautiful or attractive that someone else might consider unattractive or ugly.
Absolutely, I totally agree with the quote. I'd have to say my taste in men and my cats. They have a lot in common sometimes I've never liked Ken-Barbie-doll-type-of-pretty men. Never. I'm suspicious of them, perhaps. I am mostly oblivious to how a dude looks. I am only attracted to their personality, which I suppose I should clarify a little bit.
I like a great comedian, a man who knows how to turn any appropriate situation into a joke. I like to see and hear them laugh with everything they've got; unbridled joy, you could say. Any guy that can make me do the same is tops in my dating rule book
Men shouldn't be afraid to be sympathetic to what you're going through, and should figure out that listening is the ultimate form of support. Yeah. Which begs the question a bit on intelligence—I'm not talking about book-learning per se, but simple common sense is quite a commodity! I would say I wouldn't want a high IQ dude (not anymore, at least) as they tend to have lower EQ (emotional quality or is it quota hmmmm). Low EQ is directly correlated to divorce. Okay, maybe not, but it is related. Be a man, shed a couple tears once in a while; help an older lady across the street, foster a kitten or donate to the local spay and neuter fund ffs.
Which brings me to cats. Cats and men are quite similar in some ways. First, you have the fact that they're able to be generalized by their behaviors quite well; e.g., cats are independent and will go along with your 'suggestions' at times, and other times? Forgettaboutit. Men can be the same, though of course this is according to their myriad personalities. About 20% of cats won't do anything you ask them to, but they'll think of doing quite a few maneuvers you've never thought of! And this includes some hella stupid shit. That's cats for ya, unpredictable and conversely predictable at different times and hey, it's up to you to figure out their schedule (which doesn't exist, it's total crapshoot).
Yeah maybe men are a bit different from cats, after all. Lol. I suppose this boils down to one thing among both species: Everything is according to individual personalities, influenced both by birth and experience, and you really can't adequately predict what they're going to do or how they're going to be with you until you try. There. I have now summed up the reason for breakups, makeups, and divorce! You simply don't know until you try. And with cats? You have to be very observant and careful not to 'jump the gun' on qualifying their behaviors into actual personality 'traits' until you know them really, really well. In my experience, the most recalcitrant personalities will manifest by the age of four. That's a long time to gain control of your cat, but I have several who avoided me or batted at me or downright tried to bite me until that age. Patience, especially with ferals, is essential.
Perhaps I should just stay married to all my cats—I think I have a much better chance with them!
PS: This is a pogo-post. It goes UP, then it goes down. Ah well!