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 2091 September 14, 2019
Prompt: Tell us about your writing process – do you like music or quiet, is there a special place you go.
Ah well, it differs depending on what I'm writing. Anything that isn't poetry is tailored for the audience somewhat according to the prompt or assignment (perhaps a contest?). It will often be a more formal way of writing for me, something I absolutely do not normally do in here, my blog. Nah, in here I speak as if you the reader were right before me, listening. Only I write so much better than I speak because I can't organize my thoughts as quickly in person.
My poetry writing process is the one that is much more rigid. Let's take my brand new 'Adrie's Epic' poem as I dubbed my long-winded poems; most are over 80 lines. So I had this truly disturbing dream about a month or so ago, and when I woke up it just stayed with me all day long. It kinda was upsetting because I keep dreaming about someone I've no wish to! Constantly. They make cameos, sometimes they're the star of my dreams. And it isn't just a re-hashing of the past, either, these end up being more lucid-type dreams where I'm aware I'm dreaming but helpless to call a break on production I hate not having control. I think.
Anyways, I figured what worked for me in the past was to write about my dreams, or at least about the subject matter. I didn't want to, but I did, so I sat down and pretty much freestyled a 222 line poem Talk about needing editing! I normally edit as I go, then edit a few more times, as writing free-verse poetry can be tricky and I try to let the poems speak for themselves. That is, each poem I write wants a certain presentation: skipped lines, off-center words here and there, maybe a cute trick or two (but seldom) to accentuate a point. Many of my free verse poems have a structure within: abab, with a less-strict rhyme scheme and no poetical rhythm whatsoever. Many use near-rhymes. I search dictionaries to make sure the word I use for an important line is le mot juste or the right word.
I don't have any signature 'style' per se, other than writing a lot of lines (some very short, some long). It really is a matter of diction and emphasis for me: when speaking the lines, where do I naturally pause for breath or for impact? Then I will start a new line on that point. I confess I'm pretty much not going to write one of my epic, angsty non-fiction poems if I have a lot of interruptions. Losing focus isn't good. I still like to write poetry at night, even though I've flipped my schedule and am now a nearly-certified morning person. Tee hee.
Sometimes I listen to music, other times it's just quiet. I go with the flow of my moods and what feels comfortable at the time.
Toady, man, Toady rules...
|"Blog City ~ Every Blogger's Paradise" Day 2090 September 13, 2019
Prompt: How have your friendships with other women inspired you, or helped you to become a better you?
Well. My friendships over the years have been mostly shallow ones. I don't make friends easily, or rather I can but I rarely bother. When I do bother, they have often had boundary issues; they may have an addiction to alcohol or drugs, have a negative home environment, or be ill like me. I don't care about these issues on their face, but eventually they've encroached on my life in some way as to be detrimental to my health. I mean, stress is the trigger with my adrenal failure, so stress has to be avoided.
However, it doesn't really mean it's just my illness that keeps me from having close friends that are healthy. Mentally healthy for me, I mean, but not without mental illness I am not saying this well! It's like love—hard to describe although we try to. I've not chosen well in my youth, picking friends who do not have my best interests at heart. In fact, I was quite the friend victim for a long time. It wasn't until 1994, when I last saw my childhood 'best' friend at the Indianapolis Airport as I left in a jiffy, that I got tougher on my standards.
So, no more friends who make me feel 'less than'. No more being called 'flaky' and 'not adventurous' or 'boring'. Umm yes, I am all those things, but that's just who I am. I have a great bestie, I met her here actually, Beautiful Candy. We have the same Myer's Briggs personality type *giggles* Can you beat that?! Anyways, Connie thinks I'm not so boring, perhaps. I've grown into a passive rebel in my middle age If I think a rule is stupid, I might break it. I'm nowhere near a rebel in most people's minds, but my bestie is a very straight arrow who believes in truth and kindness and teaches peeps by example how to maintain integrity So, yeah, she influences me tons but all in a good way (for once) and the peeps of the past... shall be left in my wake!
I have been busy last few days, as I have cancelled my upcoming surgery for those sacroiliac joint injections in my lowest back. Why? They wanted this fee. Which is weird, they called it a 'facility fee'. Only I have alrady paid my MAX out of pocket cash sum this year, so all my copays are zero. It's a nice perk after paying so much money in copays for most of the year. So, I called and asked them whata the heck it was for?
Long story very short, I have NO out of network coverage at all in my current healthplan. It's a way they're saving money while charging me like over 500% from the beginning of the Obamacare individual plans. So, this surgery center was going to NOT tell me they were out of network, do it at a lowered cost, then CHARGE ME for every.single.penny. WTF? Are you SERIOUS? What part of I'm on disability do you not understand?
So, I have to now see an in network doctor who is a Psyiatrist, and he sounds good. He is affiliated with the Providence hospital so it will all be covered—my healthcare insurer is actually Providence, so it helps to have hospitals from them as well! (I think I'm spelling that specialty wrong but pffft I'm tired.)
I really, really need to try these SI joint injections... my three toes on the right foot are pure neuropathy this month, and hurt badly when flexed. Usually it's more a burning but this is just pain like muscle pain but when flexed, severe. Lovely. It's my back. I know it is. The left foot isn't so bad as the right.
For some reason, I swelled up this past month far beyond what I normally do, even in the heart of Summer. My legs from thighs to feet are incredibly swollen. Not sure what it is. A lot of leg pain at night too has me tossing and turning. I tend to think it's still my body getting used to the new steroids schedule. I finally was stable, but it only last a couple of days. Today I've been ill all day. Had to go up by 2mg, which is par for the course and much smaller than before now I have those 1mg custom compounded pills. Cool.
Anyways, I have been working on a greeting card for my grandson's birthday. It's been hard as I do it in Publisher on the PC, and my printer argh had a few issues since I changed the ISP on the wi fi. Anyways, it's finally printed. I wish my printer had a better printing quality! It's a newer HP ENVY so it's great to print from my Apples and the PC, but the quality is not there. Ah well! Now it'll likely be a day or two late but can't help it with the printing issues. Come Christmas, I'll be ready with a gift of some sort...
Off to go eat dinner and read, been up all day as usual. So ODD waking up early every day, no matter what. No more appointments upcoming... for weeks. I am so happy I could cry! I'm tired of appointments, uncomfortable with the swelling, and a bit cranky and in my own head perhaps.
We went to feed the cats and Willie the black cat—mischievous as he is—had disappeared. Found him an hour later checking out the riding lawn mower in the shed Yup he got out and we didn't even notice this time. He LIVES for this to happen Cats man, never a dull moment!
|"Blog City ~ Every Blogger's Paradise" Day 2088 September 11, 2019
Prompt: 9-11. Write a poem or something about 9-11.
Faith is to believe what you do not see;
the reward of this faith is to see what you believe. ~Saint Augustine
9/11. Today's the day we remember that horrid day. To most of us, it is a day as famous and indelible in our minds as the assassination was to JFK, President Kennedy. I wasn't around then, but I was there for nearly every second of 9/11: both then, and now.
I suppose I've chosen to come to terms with the hate and shock of that dreadful day by learning more about the people who were there. I've watched the documentary on building the 'new' towers, and it was fascinating. How do you build one of the tallest buildings in the world with the footprint of a mouse? I mean, it's in the heart of New York so there's traffic all around, and it's an awesome coordination of manpower and machines with restrictions on the number of those that can be onsite at one time. That project manager must have had one heck of an ulcer!
I listened to the stories of the first responders who lived; living, but forever damaged. The most poignant of these was a book I read years ago written by Bonnie McEneaney, Messages: Signs, Visits, and Premonitions from Loved Ones Lost on 9/11. It sounds hokey but this is how I found my faith, really; researching near death experiences, spirits 'seen' and felt, and other accounts not based on religion but uniquely laying the foundation for my faith, nevertheless. I find first person accounts to be not only fascinating but inspirational. Yes, I believe much of it, but I do employ critical thinking and reasoning, too.
So this book is about first person accounts from the family and friends of those who perished in any manner from the 9/11 attacks. There are some really astounding entries, but they're are all accounts of I guess what you would call 'supernatural encounters' since their deaths. I do think we are capable of touching 'the other side', if we are highly attuned to it, and have done so myself in a few–more subtle–ways. The stories in this book are really ah... believable. They aren't huge examples of life after death, if you will, but are comforting to me. You learn a few things about the victims, who they really were, separate from 9/11. Indeed, most interesting are the many premonitions survivors and victims had of impending doom, and some of a plane crash. Quelle interesting!
I guess 9/11 is an overwhelmingly sad day that ultimately makes me feel prouder to be American. It's a world event and the victims are international, but it happened on American soil and that is just so rare for my generation. We were truly terrified, and that doesn't happen very often here Not pre-Trump
(Since he took office it's been embarrassing to be American, truly something that is such an odd feeling. I know America stood proud before our current president, and I hope we will do so again, but while in the morass of the present? It really seems an impossible situation, the way he has polarized America and much of the world's politics—this man who is absolutely shit-house crazy. Sometimes I wonder if he is the anti-christ, I can't help it And I don't follow politics at all, I just hear reports of his behavior everywhere; America right now is pretty much a sitting duck being force-fed lies and veiled facts we have no wish to swallow but soon we will throw it back up at his feet .)
If I'm still kickin' in twenty years, it'll continue to be a day of remembrance and honor. Even when I try to turn away from it, it still smacks me in the face in some ways on this auspicious twenty-four-hour period. I would posit this awareness is likely the answer to the 'why?!' questions we have, then and now, but that's based on my spiritual beliefs and why awful shit happens to the best of people. Then again, I think bad crap happens to everyone, good or bad, light or dark, eventually....
(Likely the only time I'll expound a bit on my feelings on the president.)
(Heck, I can't even make myself capitalize the word 'president'. Yeah, not good.)
...Umm I thought of taking the political out as this is about 9/11. Just this morning I read a tribute to Todd Beamer from Flight 93 online and I got pissy because someone was talking about politics instead of saying something nice to his family. But the more I think about it, THIS is one of the uniqiue changes to America since 9/11: it got us to think about politics. Even peeps like me, who eschew them not on principal any longer, but out of sheer frustration and self preservation.
9/11 changed how we all think of our global safety, I think; wars; foreign aid; arms dealers; and certainly those foreigners AND locals who join terrorist extreme groups like ISIS. Just remember: those responsible are from an extreme group, and have nothing to do with Faith. Heck, I wouldn't even say they had much to do with any organized religion. Hopefully peeps know this now. And the stumpy trumpy stays, but he doesn't get capitalized. In fact, I'm, going to take all the capital 'T's out of his name. Why? Because I feel like it. It's the least I can do to protest when I really am not a protestor type of person. I voted for someone else, it's the best I can do, is to vote.
But check out the book if interested, it's on Amazon or it should still be. Let me know what you think about it and the subject matter if you do read it, if ya wanna
Until next year...
|"Blog City ~ Every Blogger's Paradise" Day 2087 September 10, 2019
Prompt: Can you think of something that played a major role or was a big part of your childhood, which the children of today may never experience?
There’s more than one I can think of. Books, now that’s a good one. Sad that many future kids won’t know what it’s like to get ink stains on their hands; to smell that earthly ink smell wafting up from a beloved paperback. They will probably only visit the library when their class does, and soon enough it will be all computer-based research. There won’t be books on the shelves, just rows and rows of long tables and desks with computers on them. Better yet, with tablets!
I actually use a Kindle e-reader nowadays but only because I can’t physically haul around thousands of books any longer: I’m not gettin’ any younger! And I can read my books on the Kindle Paperwhite easily, even with my wonky vision in one eye, due to the way it’s lit from within and the fact that I can make the font bigger. I still have some books, and I do miss them in general, but I get my fix by perusing the used bookshelves at the store in town. They cost a lot, the fiction and literature books, but everything else is dirt cheap. Great place to find medical tombs as well
"Blog City ~ Every Blogger's Paradise" Day 2086 September 9, 2019
Prompt: Write about something that you or someone you know were obsessed with and if that obsession still continues.
You mean besides cake? Lol. Reading. I've been obsessed with reading since I read Alice in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass, given to me by a family friend in a 1950's edition when I was but nine years old. I couldn't believe an 'adult' book could be so fun! And descriptive. And incredibly weird. And have chess, and cats, and holes in the lawn. I mean, whata wonderland, right? And cake. They had cake.
From there I started reading horror books, but I decided those were too scary. Then I read all the young adult books in my libraries. I'm trying to remember—oh yes! I began romance novels at a really young age. Just the Silhouette ones, the series ones of old, not very long books. I think I began reading the 'big' books when I was fourteen. Les Miserables comes to mind. Funny thing is, they were never read for school because it wasn't required really. I wasn't considered very smart and I lived up to that expectation with not much effort. No, it wasn't until college I started to read literature that everyone else had already read in high school.
My second full time job was at a popular book chain, so my love of reading just went on, and grew and grew. I was to go on to two more bookselling jobs, so I got to really know the inventory. I was considered an expert on long literary and romantic novels at work, which was very rewarding. Yeah since I was nine, there's only been about ten years where I wasn't reading; my pain medication made it impossible for me to focus on the words, for about a decade. Took me a while, but boy am I back! I do read pretty fast once again. I read one history and or science non-fiction book for every three or four series mysteries I'm currently involved with. Numerous books begun and in various stages? Yup. Yeah, rather like a relationship: I'm totally loving the comedic mysteries I've found for my Kindle
But yeah, I also love white cake
|"Blog City ~ Every Blogger's Paradise" Day 2083 September 6, 2019
Prompt: When was the last time you received a handwritten letter? Better yet, when's the last time you've written one yourself?
Yikes! I last received a handwritten letter about six to twelve months ago. Yeah, not great when it comes to time periods. It was very welcome because who doesn't love a handwritten note? I had participated in Elle 's little project of sending a member who wasn't going to continue on WdC any longer items printed out from her portfolio. Ann! I liked Ann, she was a hoot, very cool lady ANN Counselor, Lesbian & Happy I can't believe I remember her username although it might have changed... *looks*... nope it's the same. Cool.
Her daughter sent me a note in a card as a thank you on behalf of her mother Ann. I was glad to see she got the material, just in case she wanted to know that people care. It's hard, getting older... being ill. I love doing little things like this, something so easy for me, that simply shows you care and wish someone well. They call them what, Random Acts of Kindness, ROAK, or refer to it as Paying it Forward. In reality, it's the givers and doers who receive the most from such simple acts. I know I do, especially as I can't do a lot physically to help others anymore...
The last letter I handwrote! Holy smokes that goes back a ways. My handwriting was always pretty terrible, but I made an effort to use—oh my LAWDY! I cannot recall the word for the non-cursive type of handwriting... not cursive... printing? You know, using capital letters instead of cursive so it can be more easily understood? Yeah, that. Geez. Well it's been so long because I have had arthritis in my hands since I was twenty years old. Fibromyalgia doesn't help, so I went completely to typing which actually usually keeps them limber, although coding can get painful after a while.
So, who was my handwritten letter TO, you ask? Someone I met online and had a crush on is the best explanation, I suppose. Someone I had really in-depth conversations with via email, for over a year. Someone interested in what made me 'tick', especially how I came to be so faithful in my belief system. He was not a Christian, didn't really consider himself much of a proponent for any religion, but he wanted to. He wanted to believe in something higher than himself, but his science and intellectual background and interests just wouldn't allow him to so easily. I think he likens it to this day as giving in... to be putting your trust in anyone, any deity, other than yourself. He saw how I handled my 'crapola'1 and was really into hearing my philosophy on life, the universe, and everything (a la Douglas Adams, RIP).
Yeah, I guess you could say I wrote him a love letter. It was meant to be a gift and the handwritten aspect was well choreographed. I still have it on private here, the typed version, but it's hella embarrassing at this point and I should delete it. I just don't delete much, preferring to look once in a while and make sure I learned that lesson, perhaps. Yeah he turned out to be fudging on some important aspects... my boundaries aren't many, but I am upfront about lying—thou shall NOT lie to me, but if you do? Expect a swift kick in the ass. Keep doing it or make it so egregious that I don't know who you are anymore? Forgettabout any relationship at all. Which is difficult for me, as I really prefer keeping what basically amounts to a friendship.
Too bad, so sad. I know your heart bleeds for me. I'm an excellent online-only friend, I think, not so great in real life. Too many restrictions in my real life, mostly medical but I've picked up some peculiarities along the way. Did you guys read Kit's Kittiara last Newsletter? Maybe the For Authors nsl, I can't recall which, and she writes for a few including Spiritual which I always enjoy. Anyways, she was talking about how authors don't write about introverts: how they aren't going to be the protagonists in a great book. But I have seen a trend lately in creating more real fictional characters in mainstream fiction, but also (perhaps especially?) in comedic mystery. Characters with deep faults, selfishness, brazenness, even a complete lack of common sense I truly enjoy these character types and hope there are more to come! Say, you could probably write some
I will write letters, basically most emails you may get from me turn into monologue-type letters (am I right?) but handwritten? No way. I can barely read my own writing now
|"Blog City ~ Every Blogger's Paradise" Day 2076 August 29, 2019
Prompt: "I think that is what film and art and music do, they work as a map of sorts, for your feelings." Bruce Springsteen What are your thoughts about this?
If music be the food of love, then play on... Uh NO. Scratch that. I messed that quote up! Well, maybe food is more soulful than anything lol. You should hear me relate a joke—I can't remember the punch lines and totally suck at telling them. Well, at even repeating them, I mean.
I dream in music, which oughta tell you something about how much I relate it to my feelings, even subconscious ones. As a teenager I loved music; everyone thought it was pretty normal because what teen doesn't enjoy music, eh? But I would write out the lyrics to my favorite songs over and over until I had memorized them. I slept to music, albeit on a low volume. I didn't attend my first concert until I was sixteen, and then only two as an adult, but I enjoyed them! (The wacky tobaccy contact highs from up in the nosebleed bleachers? Not so much.) I never have liked crowds.
Now that I guess I consider myself a fledgling poet, music plays a huge part in my writing process. The reason I write is that oft-annoying, completely misunderstood reason that—at first glance—comes off as incredibly selfish. Yup, that one: I write for me. Which isn't to say that I write on THIS site just for me, as otherwise why would I bother to post it here? No, I write as a cathartic process first and foremost to get my shit out of my head and onto some dead paper where it won't harm me. I believe keeping things bottled up inside causes cancer. Seriously. However, I need to post it somewhere (and I choose WdC exclusively) so I can be accountable Accountable to keep writing about my crapola, which is almost always sad and angst-ridden; I mean my happy poems are the ones in the sludge pile. Slush pile. Yeah, that's it! If I didn't post it somewhere, I would just stop writing, and that is not a good thing for Adrie.
Music, however, is just pure enjoyment. When writing something sad or angsty I need a good song that matches my mood. In fact, I need a whole playlist in my Apple Music of songs that match my mood! I connect with the music mentally and emotionally, sure, but also viscerally—I can almost feel it throughout my body. I can at times enter an almost trace-like state, getting a good amount of writing done. Only downside to this method for epic-poem writing is that interruptions ruin the process. How often do you think a dozen cats interrupt 'mama'? Too freaking often
Music is poetry's movies.
And don't worry, I have a dozen cats because I like them; they just are so annoying when it comes to mama 'working'. Hey, whata they don't know won't kill 'em