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Tuesday, November 1, 2011

I'd Like a Coping Mechanism on the Rocks, Please?

"We seem to be made to suffer. It's our lot in life."
~C-3PO from Star Wars (1977)

Happy post-Halloween! 

I have candy!  I have bad skin!  I have a figure that would disgust a bovine!

Where the frak did that come from?

Anyway, I am currently in my room, ass slothily planted on the bed, my cat sitting on the bed with me.  I've got a lot on my mind (and shoulders) lately, and I'm trying to keep things under control.  So far I think I'm doing a good job keeping it together.  But really, there's only so much one gal can take.

I mean, I'm a BAMF for criminey sakes!!!
Don't frak with me or I'll bitchslap you like a headcrab!
Ever since the company I worked for many, many moons ago closed, I've been on a whirlwind of various dramas and stresses, and I wish things would just level out, you know?

In the midst of all this stuff I have to deal with (the most recent being my car - had to change out the battery), I keep thinking back on my writing and how I haven't really done anything.  I have one story blog left to update, and it feels like it's taking forever.  I was feeling so damn productive and then boom! - I have hit a wall.

I got stuck on how someone should die since per the prompt it was supposed to not be a random death but linked to something bigger.  Did I want her found dead at home or on the road on the way home?

Decisions, decisions...

Finally deciding on WHERE she will die, I just need to compile the HOW and the link to the other thing.

Yeah, check me out.  All kinds of vague and stuff.

I still need to figure out the bigger picture, but it's proving to be difficult.  Also my brain wants to turn this into something odd and possibly creepy, but I think I want to keep it relatively normal.  Meh, we'll see where things end up.

This is my "thinking" face.  One of MANY.
Having so much on my plate makes it difficult to focus on just one thing.  It feels like that variety act gig where the dude spins the plates on the end of poles, and he has to keep them spinning else they fall and break.
Hells yeah I have a potty mouth!  And?
Yeah, that's how it feels, but the reality of it is that I really don't give a shit if I break a dish.  (Yeah, that's right I said shit.  Problem?)

There are things that help me through my darker moments. 

Friends...
 
(left to right) Kathy, Janise and Alithea - October 2011


My kitty...
Nimitz (as in from David Weber's Honorverse, except my kitty's a girl)
Guns...
50-caliber machine guns (Aw hell yeah!)

Books...
I have a wide variety of literary interests.
Games...
I only wear the mask on special occasions.
Recently I found out that The Bloggess is now following me on twitter which makes me a little giddy since I think she's fabulous and funny.  We should totally be friends.  (So that was a little pick me up!) 

Kind of like when after taking my picture with Mulan at Disneyland several years ago, she said, "Have a nice day, Princess!"  (Yeah, it's kind of like that.)
Tee hee! Mulan called me "Princess"! *nerdsquee*
Today was a bit of a surprise since when I got home, I found a letter from my niece and sister-in-law waiting for me.  (Actually the letter was from my sister-in-law, the decorated envelope and other artwork was courtesy of my niece.) 

See? It's says "Auntie Rachel". (That's me!)
Either way, I can't help but smile where my niece is concerned.
Oh the cuteness!!! I just can't take it!!! (kisses image on screen)
Back to writing...

Usually when I'm bummed, those moments result in some really cool poetry.  When bummed turns to pissed, I've been known to write some serious "FUCK YOU!" stuff, but lately the well has run dry.  Some minor writing's happened, but nothing complete.  Just an idea here or there.  A few words.  Nothing much.

Yeah yeah... I'm sad, too.

I did figure something out in regards to an assassin character I had in mind.  It was a minor bit (regarding her wardrobe and its significance to the character... like why Bruce Wayne chose bats - that sort of thing), but that's nothing big.

I keep thinking of my novel.  I mean, here it is NOVEMBER, and I'm frakked!  I had that whole goal of being published by my 35th birthday, and guess what?  It's in 19 days.  (I don't see that goal happening.)

Alfred (trying to sound encouraging): Why do we fall-?
Me: (grumbling and shaking ice in an otherwise empty tumbler) Oh shut up and pour.


Oh alcohol.  Thank you for the temporary band-aid with which your magical elixirs provide.  Now quick.  Another round before reality sets back in.

I feel slightly accomplished with my story blog stuff so that's not too bad.  Granted I'm pseudo "publishing" myself via the internet, but that wasn't the goal to begin with.  Still, I've almost reached my goal regardless of all of life's distractions.  And I'm also working on adding a menu bar to this blog and making it so you (the lovely awesome reader who loves my stuff, reads it all the time, and cries out for more... or something like that) can find everything in one place. 

My friend Jess is helping me with some coding/layout/formatting issues.
Everyone say "Hi Jess!" (And not only is that a Rockstar, she's also happy to see you.)

The minibook I'm using at home runs on Linux and for some reason doesn't like anything I try to do.  Jess and I seemed to be in the same ballpark finally when it came to my main page, and we talked a little Sunday about it, but blogger as a whole seems to be frakkin me without so much as buying me a drink beforehand.

Bad blogger!  No manners!  You kiss your internet with that kind of mouth?  Sheesh!

I changed templates, tried to make my page look like my original page but now I can't see things as well as I used to or font choices are linked together instead separate per section you're working on...

And to top it off?  I had a moment at work so out of curiosity, I logged on to my page to see how it looked and some dimensions were off.  Some of the tabs decided to do their own thing.  Then error messages happened no saving stuff.

Really?  Really blogger?  Do you want me to hate you?  Do you want me to kill you?  Cuz I will.  I can SO choke a bitch.  Stop workin' my last nerve.  I will cut you! 

Now I've purged that dialogue from my system... (rolls eyes with apologies)

I'm hoping for some happy this week.  I'm hoping for some big happy that leads to more happy because I need it.  I deserve it.  I want this happy to evolve into security and who know? - perhaps further on into success.  That would be wonderful.

In the meantime, I'm still reeling from the text I got from my friend Margrit (aka Seester) tonight.
Dee Dee!!! (she knows what it means)
The lovely Margrit hates technology.  She's used computers, etc, in the past, but she's not into getting the new gadgets of the moment.  She had a pager for the longest time when I first met her, and she even hated that.  Now she has a phone and needs it for practical reasons.  Every once in a while if put in front of a computer, she will zone out on YouTube or something, but overall, she has no love for the technology world.

Like me?  I have techno-joy (to quote Eddie Izzard).  I will admit that I am not completely tech-savvy (hence the enlistment of Jess's awesome computer aide), but I like computers and game consoles and cell phones and digital cameras and GPS devices, etc, etc, etc.  Do I need all of the tech out there?  No.  But I can admire it and think its cool and nerd out about it.  Since I like computers and the internet, I have become my Seester's internet connection.  If something happens via Facebook or email, etc, and it's pertinent to her (like a party with our friends or something), I am to call her and let her know.  (Yes "call".  She doesn't text either... though she has been "once in a blue moon'ing" lately.)

But the text I got tonight?  She is now on Facebook.

Wait.  Did you feel that?  I believe hell hath frozen over.

Margrit: What is your Facebook account?  I'm on it now.
Me: (I text back my first and last name thinking "duh!" as I do so)
Margrit: Do you have a profile pic?
Me: Yes. Me in black next to an angel statue.  (<=== which it was at the time)
Margrit: Find me on Facebook. (she gives me her name)

When I got that text, I literally looked at my phone and said, "I know your name."  Then I found her and texted her, "Found you.  Friend request sent."  Then I noticed not only does she not have a profile pic, her profile is quite bare.  So I sent her a message asking if this was her, and she (or someone) wrote back yes.  I'm wondering how she could reply to my message and not accept my friend request?

Meh, it's late.  I'm sure it'll right itself soon.

Speaking of late, this post has turned as melty as an acid trip without the tabs.  I think I'm going to turn in and try to get some sleep before work tomorrow.  Hopefully my dreams will bring me good things that leave me well rested and morning smiles.
If I agreed with you, we'd both be wrong. -Unknown Author
Later my lovelies.

Have Goodness!
Rae

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