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Sittin’ Around Bullshittin’

Editing The Moreva of Astoreth–still. Jesus fucking christ. The pages look as if they’ve been dipped in pee. A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away, it would have been blue pencil. Anyway, it’d have been nice if Adobe had used a different color, one that didn’t look so much like body waste. Like a nice magenta. Or even green. And just think–once I’ve finished the edits, I have to input them into the ms in Word. Yeah, I know I can directly edit the Adobe version, but I didn’t create it and it wasn’t shared. So I have to do it the hard way.

My new desk chairs are fabulous! The old ones were cheap and worn out. The height adjustment thingie didn’t work anymore, I had to roll up a towel and put it behind me for back support, ugh. Now I’m at the right height for working at the computer. My back doesn’t hurt when I stand up. Of course, it would help if I didn’t sit at the desk so much, but I forget and only get up when my ass starts hurting.

I got one of those Happy Lights. How come I ain’t happy? REFUND!!! No, seriously. I’ve been using it while I work–day job stuff, because it won’t fit on my personal desk. Too much shit lying around. The lack of available outlets on this side of the room is also a problem. So is it working? Well, I really can’t tell… Continue reading

Days of Manias Past

Went to see my shrink on Saturday. In explaining my rage and disgust with myself over my current financial predicament, I told her the reason for my intense feelings is that this isn’t the first time it’s happened. The difference between then and now is I hadn’t dug myself in so deep I couldn’t dig myself out.

So I started regaling her with some of my past exploits while manic. Like how I ended up with FIVE full-length fur coats. While I was still commuting, in winter it got seriously cold on those train platforms. When the 7:15 AM express came whipping through, it was like you’d been plunged into the Arctic. It occurred to me that a fur coat might make my commute more bearable. I bought one. It worked. Then I slipped into mania and bought four more. Oh, they’re beautiful, all right. I pay handsomely to keep them up. But I stopped commuting to work in 2008, and I haven’t worn any of them since Obama’s first inaugural in 2009. Yeah–they’ve been sitting either in my closet or at the storage place since then. I also have a gorgeous sterling flatware set, service for eight. Tell me, why would I need something like that? I don’t entertain. Hell, I don’t even like PEOPLE. And then there was the time I went crazy for loose colored gemstones. I had a grand plan to have them made into custom jewelry. Problem is, I don’t wear jewelry. I have pierced… Continue reading

Drawn And Quartered

I can’t believe it’s October-freakin’-12th already.

Shit is pulling me in so many directions I feel as if I’m being drawn and quartered.

The Underground dropped on October 1. Didn’t get as many pre-orders as I would have liked but I’m not disappointed, either. Especially considering I didn’t get going on drumming up pre-launch buzz until the last week of August, or something like that. Last June, my book designer was working on Invasion and worked on it until the first week of August or so, when I interrupted her with the updated The Underground manuscript. So she went to work on that. I took up Invasion and gave it a fine-toothed comb edit. Funny thing is, I don’t remember asking her to work on Invasion way back then. But I don’t remember a whole lot of shit, anyway. I advertised on a whole lot of websites. The preorder price was 99 cents. It will stay at 99 cents until October 31. I’m hanging on to the price that long because I’ve got more ads coming up in the coming weeks. After the 31st, it’ll go up to $2.99. And then we’ll start the process all over with Invasion. And then the Moreva of Astoreth. I can tell you this–once this is done, I am not messing around with these books anymore. I have to stop being a goddamned perfectionist and learn to let go. Besides, I’m itching to write new stuff. But I want to get these… Continue reading

It’s Over. It’s Finally Over.

This has been the week from hell. It feels like last Monday happened sometime last year. In fact, I don’t even remember what happened last Monday.

It seemed things just…fell apart. Me, my dog, my house–everything. Was supposed to have a dental appointment, one that keeps getting rescheduled for one reason or another. So I get into my truck and see that a cable or something has come loose from whatever it is it was supposed to be attached to and now one end is lying on the floor. And I smell gasoline. Well hell, I sure wasn’t going to go barreling down the highway with cables dangling and the smell of gas assaulting my nostrils.

Then Daisy collapses. Repeatedly. The arthritis in her hips and knees is worsening, which is not surprising, given her age. I took her in for k-laser treatment last week but it didn’t seem to last, so I called the vet and said she needed the shots, too. I bought the laser/shots package and she had her first injection the other day. The two together really do help. She collapsed today but that was because she went for a walk in the backyard and it was too much for her. I’m sad she collapsed but the fact she felt confident to walk that far is heartening.

I sold one of my jewelry watches on ebay, the 18K gold and diamond one. Went for a paltry $900, which is really paltry considering what I paid for… Continue reading

The End

It’s coming.

Last June, my 85-year-old mother fell and broke her hip. She’s mending nicely, champing at the bit to get out of the house on her terms, driving, traveling, and all the rest. While she convalesces, my 85-year-old father has borne the lion’s share of the burden of her care. I’ve helped out whenever asked–taking days off from work, whatever is needed. In doing so, I’ve been able to observe them close-up. And I don’t like what I see.

My father and mother are the same age. I watch my father move about the house. He moves slower, now. His steps are no longer as sure as they were five, seven years ago. He doesn’t look sickly–for their age, both my parents are in pretty good health–but he seems smaller, frailer. Taking care of my mother has been hard on him. He’s tired, I can tell. His mind is still sharp, though. We talk about current events and such and his insights always enlighten me. The way he correlates the past to the present. Like I was wondering why the Democrats just didn’t go ahead and start impeachment proceedings against 45. He said it was because they don’t have anything on him, nothing that would stick. He pointed out that when Sen. Goldwater confronted President Nixon, the senator told the president he had a choice: Resign or be impeached. He also told Nixon if he chose to fight, there was enough evidence to convict, “and the Senate will convict… Continue reading

More Oddz And Endz

I’m friends with a trans woman on a social media site. She related how she started cross-dressing in the early 90s because she was tired of presenting as what she was not. I told her I thought she’d been brave for doing that. She replied, “not brave–resilient.”

“Brave,” I shot back. Tired or not, given society’s murderous, despicable attitude toward trans people, to start dressing as she felt herself to be was brave. What was resilient is that she continued to be true to herself in spite of all of the ugliness.

That short exchange reminded me of an experience I had in college back in the ’70s. I was at a party on another campus with a bunch of friends and at some point, a trans woman joined our group. I didn’t know anything about trans back then but I quickly realized she was biologically male. I could tell she desperately wanted to hang out with us “girls,” wanted us to accept her. My friends were pretty oblivious (drunk) and basically ignored her. I didn’t. I thought she was cool. So she hung out with us at the party and I could tell she was feeling relaxed and having a good time. Then it was time for us to leave. I said good-bye and told her I’d had fun hanging with her. Unfortunately, by that time I was pretty oblivious myself and it never occurred to me to get her name and contact info. I wish I had. Even… Continue reading

The NOTORIOUS RBG!!

OK, I went a bit nuts today. Bought 4 RBG t-shirts.

It’s important for us to express how we feel, right? So I’m doing it. Love that woman/lawyer/advocate/Supreme Court Justice/FIGHTER! A hero to me and so many others.

And she’s made cancer her bitch AGAIN.

She is the NOTORIOUS RBG!!! Yes!! Smite those conservative assholes on the Court (especially that fucker Kavanaugh)! RBG RULES!!!!!

Ciao.

The Days Are Numbered

It was a gloriously gorgeous day. Blue sky, fluffy white clouds. The sun, bright and warm, tempered by a cool breeze ruffling the hair. A day that heralded the coming of Autumn.

Dammit.

I am sooo not ready for this. I am not ready to face another winter. I’m not ready for the cold. The threats of snow. I’m not ready for the short days, the darkness outside and the darkness in my brain.

“Oh, but there’s plenty of time before winter comes! There will be more days like today, many more!”

That’s true. But it doesn’t seem like that to me. As a year passes, the days, weeks, and months rush by seamlessly, with the anonymity and speed of water in a fast-moving stream. Very few discrete periods stand out. When I can recall a particular day, its pictures slip and slide like a half-remembered dream. One little saying of mine is “I can’t remember what happened twenty minutes ago, so you know I can’t remember what happened [last week].” Rarely fails to get a laugh out of people. What they don’t know is that it’s true.

So for me, winter might as well come tomorrow.

My brain has been wack since 2016. I wasn’t exactly fine before then but it seems that was the year it spazzed. Every seven years, give or take a couple of months, whatever medications I’m on stop working. I don’t know why. They just do. Then the search begins for a new cocktail.… Continue reading

Happy Birthday, Lori B.!

Today would have been my sister’s 61st birthday.

Lori died in 2010. Brain cancer. I gotta tell you, cancer is some nasty shit. It was horrible, worse than horrible, to watch her die. The tumor was huge–covering almost a quarter of her brain. I saw the pictures after her surgery. It looked like the surgeon had taken an ice-cream scoop and went to work. He couldn’t get all of the tumor because some of it was too close to her brain stem for comfort. So she had to go through chemo and radiation. That’s some nasty shit, too. Still, the cancer went into remission and in the end, it bought her 2 more years. But it came back. It was a type of cancer that always comes back, no matter what you do. And when it came back, it was inoperable. So I watched Lori die, little by little, piece by piece. I cursed the cancer that was killing her. I cursed Duke University for not doing enough to cure her. I cursed a whole lot of other stuff, too. The hardest part, though, was saying goodbye. We were in her room at the hospice. I saw the DNR tag attached to the end of her bed and lost it. Lori and I had our troubles growing up and we weren’t close but there was never any doubt about our sisterly love. So we’re at the hospice and by this time she’d lost her ability to speak. We stared at… Continue reading

HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!

My Great Dane Daisy Mae is THIRTEEN today!

Happy Birthday, Daisy–you’re the BEST!!