Most of you know that I'm large with the Fat Acceptance. (Ha! Pun)
To me, this essentially means that the size of my body does not permit anyone to treat me like less of a human. By fat-haters own admission, I'm a lot more person than many of them.

Ragen Chastain, who is something of a hero of mine, is a dancer. A large, lovely dancer, and activist, and writer, and speaker. She suggests that fat people make it a point to be seen out in the world doing athletic things, dancing joyfully, wearing revealing clothing, or just generally doing things you'd like to do without carrying body shame around with you. I'm into that.

HAES thinking has allowed me to work on strength training. It is almost June, and I am stronger, more flexible, and have better balance than I did on January 1st of this year. I don't talk about diet or exercise very much, because it's boring, private, and to my mind--akin to posting about what an impressive shit I had. But I have been working on myself from a desire to feel awesome rather than a desire to change myself so assholes will be less assholish to me. I'm seeing results that I am happy with. The switch from delicious cheeseburgers to delicious sushi hasn't hurt either.

With that in mind.
Wait for it....

I want new tap shoes. I used to tap as a teenager. I did not entirely suck at it, but didn't dance as well as I could have out of self-consciousness and a general feeling that I looked awful. My mom was my main--what's the opposite of a cheerleader? I don't even know, tormentor will work I guess. But it's not like my mom was the only person who was shitty to me about my weight--I have a good brother and a mean brother, don't forget. And I went to school. Remember school? Yeah...bully smorgasboard.

I want to tap again. And I want to post vids of myself doing it. I want to open myself up to the ridicule of the internets (I did this once before when I allowed a vid of me reading at an FA event to be posted in a bunch of places. I braced for impact, but it never came), if only to confirm that it's them not me.

Can't really afford new tap shoes. I'm actually considering doing one of those online donation dealies to get $200 together to invest in a really good pair of tap shoes, and a set of regular taps, and double taps. As a zombie fan, double taps are essential. LOL and Ha! I have to get awesome shoes, because if I hurt myself--well, I don't want to hurt myself. I sit around watching TV and complaining when I am feeling poorly.


In other news, I'm having a surprise visit with my young protege today. We're working on a Spider-flavored short story that will be submitted to an anthology next week. I'd love for him to share a professional writing credit with me.

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You may have heard about the latest asshat preacher who worships his kind and loving god by telling his parishoners who he thinks should be rounded up and imprisoned until they "eventually die out." No, it's not the murderers, pedophile priests, crooked bankers who steal old people's retirement monies, it's no one at Bain capitol, or even Kony (Remember him? He was really evil a few months ago). No...these foul, loathsome beasts are none other than--you guessed it! The GayWads.

But it's not the GayWads that I want to talk about today.
Last night, Anderson *swoon* Cooper invited members of this douchebag's congregation to talk to him about why they support such a hateful pastor. A woman volunteered to be on AC360. I want to reiterate that--this woman VOLUNTEERED to speak to him. And here she is:


Now granted, plenty of people are openly mocking her viewpoints (and her size, but that's another matter entirely). But she seemed to think it was a good idea to defend a pastor who said that "all the gay people" should be "rounded up and put behind an electrified fence" and given food (unlike a few stories who said he wanted to starve them) "until they all die out."

Seriously, how does a person stand up and proudly proclaim this as a faith?
How does a person grab a microphone and state how an act of hatred and dicketry would improve our country and make us better people?
Why are people so goddamn proud of being ignorant, dishonest (this chick doesn't give a single straight answer the whole time--just trotting out buzz words and not actually saying anything) and just generally hateful?
Seriously, why the fuck can't people think through this and get over it already?
I really don't understand why anyone clings to ignorance.
And it's making me hate my countrymen.



In better news, I have a whole week off once I leave work tonight--which will be in less than 1 hour. I'm gonna pound out that short story about Spiders that I'm writing with my Protege. I'm not a very good collaborator on creative projects. I'm sort of a control freak. But a 9-year-old kid is just Milhousesque enough that he lets me do my thing and makes a ton of cool suggestions for me to incorporate.
I'm also going to put my packet together for The Finster Effect. I'm toying with the idea of giving it away for free for a day or two, then submitting it to publishers. Am I allowed to do that? I don't even know. I don't see why not... But yeah, I'm putting that shit together, because it's stupid not to.

Funnily, I was testing my Simpsons Trivia skill on the internets lately. I'm not as good as I used to be. In fact, my encyclopediac knowledge of Simpsons starts to fizzle around the end of 2004. Turns out, that's the same exact time that I started trying to be a professional writer. Seems that the first thing to go was the hours and hours I spend rewatching cartoons.
Compared to most of you losers though, my Simpsons Trivia skills are still totally badass.

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A few total strangers have written to ask me when my next book is coming out. That should make me feel awesome. It doesn't. The answer is, I have no fucking idea. Why?
Because I still haven't put my packet together so I haven't even approached another publisher.

WTF, me? Seriously...

Am I afraid of failure? I shouldn't be. I've been teh FAILz at plenty of stuff in my life. I quit the volleyball team in junior high, quit jazz/tap soon after that. I left technical theatre when my paychecks started bouncing. I have NO plans to quit writing. Oppositely, I'm trying to freelance full-time. I send out plenty of resumes, writing samples. I'm writing and subbing short stories when appropriate anthologies open up. So why can't I put this packet together and send it out?

Am I afraid that the book sucks? No. It doesn't suck, though there's a thing that happens that I might think was cheap if someone else did it. But I like it, and I stand by it. It's a good book, and it's different from any zombie story I've ever read.

Do I not know who to sub it to? No. I have two houses in mind, neither of which have recently caused a web shit-storm by fucking authors over.

Why don't I just give it to my old publisher to publish? Good question. I want more money. I want more marketing support. I don't want to produce my own audiobooks anymore. I'm not really that good at it. I have a lot of wants my current guy isn't able to give me.

So why haven't I done it.
Seriously, I'm asking.
Because I don't fucking know what my problem is.
If somebody said to me what I'm saying now, I'd tell them to get the fuck over it already. There's nothing to lose by trying, and nothing great will happen to you while you sit around smoking reefer and watching TV.

In fact, the last time someone said "I don't want to send my manuscript out. What if they say no?" I was all "Well gee, you'd better not ask at all. Maybe they'll say yes if you don't actually ask..." because I'm sarcastic like that. Yet, I don't seem to want to take my own smartass advice even though I know it's GOOD advice.



On a completely unrelated topic, I really enjoyed hearing Theon Greyjoy's sister calling him the C-word last night. He IS the C-word. And no, I don't mean that he has cancer.

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In case you don't know, I'm what fictional serial killer Jame Gumb refers to as "A great big fat person."

And yet, when I discuss fat, fat-health, HAES, or make the slightest suggestion that weight may involve more than calories in/calories out someone will invariably say some variation of "Of course YOU'RE saying that, you're fat!"
The idea being that I can't possibly discuss issues pertaining to fat people because I'm so goddamn fat. Truthfully, I can discuss anything I want. As a fat person, my jaw muscles are mighty and strong.

The more I think about it, the odder it is that my being fat leads people to think I know LESS about fatness, or the study of weight, health, or anything about fatness and exercise. Someone once argued with me, rather vehemently, that it's impossible to be fat if you exercise every day. By their logic, I'm either a fictional character or a damnable liar.

I can't wait for this stupidity to seep into other demographics. I want to hear, "What the hell do YOU know about giving birth? You've got 17 children?!?" or "Of course YOU think I should go to the hospital for this heart attack--you're a doctor!"

Maybe I'm just feeling high and ranty.

Had a conference with my 9-year-old protege about the anthology submission we're working on. He has some tremendous ideas, a real love of gore and sensational deaths, and a strong sense of character and story. This thing is gonna be awesome. I dig the hell out of this kid.

Oh, and the Alfac meeting I had to sit through at my day job was made worthwhile when they gave me a stupid talking duck plushie.

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Today is day-one of my 3-day day-job work week. It's also my first day back after the Happy working at the day-job for five years dinner H and I attended on Saturday. I think I committed a faux pas by not shaking hands or hugging the owners of the company. There are 3 guys in the same family that run this place: one whom I like very much, one who introduced himself to me like we'd never met--three and a half years into my tenure with the company, and one who I've never spoken to at all. The guy I like left early, leaving me with the awkward choice of pretending I enjoy people I don't know, or taking my present (everybody got the same present) and sitting the hell back down. I chose the latter.
Amazingly enough, H got the night off to accompany me. I like showing him off. I seem much more together and professional with a chap like H on my arm. He's my trophy husband, except I don't intend to trade him in for a younger model.

Wearing my suave new blue Nike's today. I love Nike's, and love it even more when I find some for under $70. These are comfy, correct my pronation, and are badass looking.

Finished my first of 2 short stories that are due this month. The second one, I'm writing with my 9-year-old protege. It's about spiders, and will be scary as fuck. Or in kid language, scary as heck, really REALLY scary, or Gosh-Darn scary!

Criminal Minds season finale meets Doctor Who humor? Love it.
Love everything about it. That said, I'm annoyed that Garcia and Kevin don't seem to be together. I want them to get married and be the Danny DeVito and Rea Perlman of our generation--the Anges Depesto and Creepy-Guy from Ghost, if you will...the quirky couple that is obviously goddamn perfect for each other---like the Wednes and H of crime drama.

Watched the 2011 remake of Jane Eyre. It was pretty great. I adore that story no matter what, but in this version there's not a lot of the Brockelhurst villainy and not much of Jane as a young girl at all. St John was portrayed as a huge douchebag in this version when she decides not to marry him. Even worse than in the Masterpiece Theatre version--which is severe. The film had some really funny moments, and Judy Dench as Mrs Fairfax was inspired!

In Game of Thrones News, fuck you, Theon Greyjoy. You are a complete coward and a runty little shit with a giant chip on your shoulder. Tonks should have killed you while you were sleeping!

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Whatever you do...
Don't forget to call Mother.


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As promised, I checked out Farmhouse last week. I was pleasantly surprised. The violence was not as intense or pervasive as standard torture porn fare. But it was grueling and suspenseful with a strong cast. Steven Weber as a bad guy. Yes, I like it. Like Martyrs, it has an intriguing premise that you won't understand until the very end. Stick with it, because it's a pretty good watch if you like the hard-R-for-violence stuff.

Got my biggest royalty check ever yesterday. This might be the year I achieve my dream of being a thousandaire. Maybe someday, my yearly income will be more than what Mitt Romney earns in 2 weeks. Man...that'd be something.
Speaking of Mittington of Romneyshire, have you been reading about all this shit he got up to as a punk born with a silver spoon in his whiny gob? Beating up a gay kid and cutting his hair? Screwing with a blind man? Gods, what a prick. I don't necessarily believe in electing the president I'd most want to have a beer with--but he can't be an out-of-touch sociopath who lies like the rest of us drink water (which is to say, whenever his mouth gets dry).

My relationship with my day-job continues to struggle. At the end of the month, they are cutting 28 hours of open-time a week. Instead of being open 9-9 M-F and 9-5 on Saturday, we're only going to be open 10-6 M-F. I also hear we will not be doing our usual streak of hiring in the fall. I imagine I'll stay around until the busy season, but it looks like another round of "Please do the work of several people for the same pay you're making now, with less flexible hours and less available support." As you might imagine, I'm not really a fan of that sort of thing. The job market is getting better though. People are slowly getting back on their feet. Let's hope the trend continues.

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I'm working on a short story for an anthology sub.
But H is hungry, and I am too, so I was taking a break to clean the kitchen before I cook the thanksgiving casserole H has been wanting for a while.
Ground chicken, various veggies, and a bag of cornbread stuffing mix with stock and everything, baked in the oven. We have mushers, broccoli, leeks and vidalias, green and yellow zucchini, that sort of thing.

Anyway, I see H at my keyboard. "Hahahaha," I joke. "So I guess now my story takes place on a spaceship and has boobs in it, right?" Mind you, I was totally kidding about H actually altering my story. He would never do that, ever.
Until today...

I sit down and see this tacked on to the end:

I woke up to the site of boobs. Boobs everywhere. I didn’t know what was going on. There [sic] size was unbelievable. I thought I must've been dreaming still. I punched myself in the face real hard to check and see; but no, I was awake. Then I realized that it must be some kind of hologram like in star trek. That, or I was on some drugs. But it didn't do drugs. That was for gays and poor people so it was the star trek thing and I thought if I was on star trek that would be sweet like the time the robot was doing it with that girl from pet sematery. She was pretty hot...

I found it chilling it its realism. LOL

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Trying to finish a short story draft today that I intended to finish by the end of last month. Oops. Can't seem to get around to all the anthologies subs I want to sub to. Ah well...
Still not sure how to set up the reveal. It's pretty damn creepy though.

Reviews are still trickling in for my various books. Funny how I haven't put out a novel in over two years, and people are reading my stuff more than ever. Reviews are largely positive, and I'm nowhere near the point where I want to avoid reading press on myself. I really need to get my Finster packet together so I can go about the task of securing an advance. I wish I could just pay someone to do everything but the cover letter. That just feels like cheating to me. Funny considering how many times I've written college papers for cash--back in the day.

If you missed Neil Gaiman's recent interview with Stephen King you really should check that shit out.

Game of Thrones is still super badass. That little prick Joffery better not live out the season. I'm with Robb, I really don't care who rules as long as it's not him. We shall see, I suppose. I don't really like watching a show where I have to constantly resist the urge to go to Wikipedia and find out what's going to happen. It requires a level of self restraint I simply do not possess.

Gonna check out an extreme horror movie called Farmhouse on DVD. Still can't really afford to see Cabin in the Woods or The Raven yet. And the early word on The Avengers is that it's extremely ordinary. I welcome you to confirm or deny in the comments.

I have a 3-day weekend I plan to fill with Short Story writing, reading another big hunk of this AMAZING book that is changing my life and confirming a bunch of shit I already suspected, making thanksgiving casserole for H because he asked for it, baking banana bread for the day-job, and applying for freelance gigs. I'll watch The Comedy Awards, Game of Thrones, and roughly half of whatever FOX is serving up on Sunday. I will also be resisting the urge to order more sushi, and figure out why this goddamn blue will not stay in my goddamn hair.

Livejournal peeps, the site is working like ass (again/still) and not letting me comment. I have plenty to say, I'm really not ignoring you.

Question: What causes the phenomenon where after an hour+ visit with someone, one or both of you thinks of a zillion more things you HAVE to say after you've gone to the door and opened it, so you just stand there conversing in full earshot of any neighbor within 5 meters of their front door?
Seriously. It's rampant.

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I am feeling better.

Had a work meeting with my boss (at my own behest). It was open, honest, and I left feeling much better than I did when I went in.

Meds seem to be evening out.

Got a nibble on a gig making those silly lists that people pass around on Facebook. The site looks like it's more pictures than words--and I frankly find those to be a pain in the ass. Still I'm gonna look it over and see if it's something I'll want to do. If the pay is okay, I could certainly create some funny lists. I'm the Egg McMuffin of pop culture and tend to be witty as fuck.
And I've always wanted to be professionally opinionated.

The sushi delivery place will be the end of me. If I had it, I could spend hundreds of dollars a week there. So much eel...

Mark was here for lunch today. Hamburger Pie.
Mmmmmm...

Well into the Matt Smith Doctor Whos (Ha! I almost wrote "Doctor Whose" which would be laughably ungrammatical.) They're pretty good. I asked H if the next two-parter was going to be emotionally draining--you know how they can kick your ass sometimes? He said I don't think so, no. Right. Because at the end of the two-parter ( Spoiler here, obiviously )

And lastly, I got a haircut. I had all the bleached hair cut off. My hair was normal brown for about 4 days. Now, not so much.

The blue is a lot of fun. And with just the one color, it's not really that weird. Besides, as a writer, I get to be eccentric even though I'm not rich. With that in mind:

There's a wee bit of pink as well.

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I'm applying for freelance work like mad. Not hearing much back. I wonder if my Google results are offputting to employers. Honestly? Screw them if it is. Looking at my online hoo-ha means they are privy to a shitload of information they are not legally allowed to ask me. I have no intention of hiding vital parts of myself from family, fans, and friends for the privilege of writing for someone who thinks it's their business to sit in judgement of me.
Tell me friends, how screwed am I for saying that out loud?

That said, I'm gonna be pretty poor pretty quickly if my day-job gives me the boot. It's not like I can go work a fast food gig.

While I'm shooting my mouth off about shit, Scott Walker and Rick Snyder can kiss my ass. I'm not gonna bother with a bunch of links, but both of those assholes think throwing Americans in jail for not paying bills is just fine and dandy! I guess now that they've figured out that most welfare recipients are NOT drug addicts, they needed to find a new way to throw them all in jail. We're poor, and we have medical bills. There but for the grace of Zod goes I, right?
H and I both work. We have no kids. We do not live lavishly, and most of the nice things we own were given to us as gifts (well, not the computers, but everything else). We don't own a house, or a car. And we're drowning in debt. Our bank account was cut down by $2K since last year. Most of that was my CPAP, glasses, and going to the dentist, even though we have insurance for all of those things.

If I end up in jail, you guys better write to me.
Snail mail!

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"I find it to be my biggest struggle--to figure out how to be medicated enough to function but still have some semblance of my personality, and access to my insanity for when I need to write something. Insanity is a door, and I can't have it completely closed and locked for fear of being trapped in normalcy. THAT would be FAR scarier than anything my illness could dish out."

--Me, on how I'm actually getting some shit done today for the first time in about 2 weeks.

For those of you dying to see a pic of my undead protege,
I'm just gonna leave this here.


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If you wouldn't mind hipping every literate, Kindle using person you know--I'd be much obliged. FREE. One. Day. Only.

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Picked up an extra shift at the day-job this week to cover for someone attending a funeral. What am I gonna say? No, I don't feel like it even though my plan was to stay home, relax and dick around on the computer? Possibly, but I didn't. I could use the scratch. I need to order new magnet bracelets since my good one broke (after over a decade) and my pretty ones aren't really strong enough. I got another pretty one that is stronger, and a super-dooper-uber-strong one that will top out at around 4000 gauss. Mmmmm...gauss. I realize that I am a great believer in a few medical things, like magnets and EMDR, that a lot of people assume are bunk.
Magnets, for example, are sold as being miracle cures. They aren't. They don't lower your blood pressure, stress level, or give you an enhanced state of being. But they have helped me through some awful pains. I first used them to take down the swelling in an abcessed molar. If you've never had the displeasure, it's like a throbbing kidney stone in your mouth. Magnets did the trick--I didn't even care how absurd they looked taped to my face. These days, they curb the carpal/cubital tunnel pain.

The "ENTER" key on my keyboard at work sticks terribly.
I find it irksome.

This weekend I'm hanging out with my new buddy, a little kid I'll refer to as G-man. G-man is the child of a chick I went to college with. His family is Mormon. He is a certified genius and a huge fan of all things horror. He came out to Ann Arbor a while back to record a short story for me--and was great. I think he's 9, though he might be 10. Anyway, he's coming over on Saturday and sleeping over in H's office. We're gonna talk horror, maybe record some more fiction, and watch whatever horror I have that is swear-free and hopefully won't scar the kid for life. I'm thinking of showing him Night of the Living Bread, maybe a few original Twilight Zone eps, and either the original Dracula or Frankenstein.

I'm also taking suggestions on stuff that is quality horror but can still be shown to a kid with religious parents. The original JAWS should be fine if he hasn't already seen it. Apparently, he loves megalodons.

Still chipping away at this med situation. Doubling my dosage tonight of the Celexa. Here's hoping it won't make me more tired than I already am. My appointment with my regular doc and psyche doc together is supposed to be next Thursday, but I just found out I have to work. I'm hoping I can get that figured out, since I can't get another refill until I see both docs together. I do feel a lot less tense, angry, and worried about stuff. But I'm tired and not getting very much work done. It's so hard finding a balance...

And finally, this Friday the 13th is the giant, enormo, FREE Kindle giveaway for A Stabbing for Sadie. ONE DAY ONLY, BITCHES! I don't have H's fly graphic with me at work, but please do tell everyone you've ever known. Graphic will be up by tomorrow. Honest.

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So...my Walking Dead Shark Jump article was somehow posted to the Walking Dead fan group over to the Google+. It's getting tons of hits and is the 3rd most popular article when you Google "Walking Dead Shark Jump." (the first two being from tv dot com, and the official Shark Jump site)
Results were mixed, as expected. Somehow, I did not expect so many personal attacks aimed at me. Apparently, I need "a laxative and a teddy bear." Some people seem to think that if your story has something fictional in it, that no logic or facts should be required or expected anywhere...buh?

Even more surprising was how many people seemed to think I am a dude.

Granted, Friday is a boys name. But Wednesday is all gal all the time.
(and no, we're not counting Mr Wednesday from American Gods)

I know there's a presumption about horror, and zombies in particular, to be kind of a dude thing. A lot of chicks I know who say they write horror are actually writers of paranormal romance--a lot of ghost and vampire fucking. Still more horror chicks are all about stripping down, covering themselves in blood, and doing photo shoots till the cows come home. Sorry gals, but I don't find that shit scary. I don't know how anyone would.

Apparently, people are aghast that a woman wrote "Kiss Me Like You Love Me." This is the kind of criticism I wish was everywhere. I wish more people were talking about how amazingly I capture a twisted and disturbed mind that barely functions except to want sex and kill things that are upsetting. Of course, I grow very weary of the idea that women write one way and men write another. I don't know that I could write an effectively steamy sex scene if my life depended on it.

Reviews are still trickling in for Cat's Apprentice and KMLYLM. Funny, as I know full well that the internet is full of morons--I take some internet blathering too seriously. Goodreads is probably the most frustrating place to find reviews, since there are tons of ratings with no subsequent explanation for the rating. If you give KMLYLM 2 stars, I'm damn well gonna want to know why. Still, reviews are overwhelmingly positive--which should be good, except that I'm too disappointed by how much I care. Shouldn't I be like...above that or something?


In other TV news the Game of Thrones premiere was awesome. I'm sad that H isn't watching anymore. I adore Danaerys, Tyrion Lannister, and Jon Snow. I'd like to see Joffery "Baratheon" his mom, and that prick Little Finger all go down in flames. I feel badly for Sansa, who is going to grow up to be incredibly unhappy--though she may have an easier time than "Arrie" the orphan boy.
New season of South Park is pretty funny thusfar.
Alcatraz ended as boringly as it started. It's fine, but no big whoop. I might just be desensitized to JJ Abrams and his wacky world of WTF.

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And no...I'm not posting about the Nirvana album of the same name.

Spent the last few days being sick, getting used to my new meds (phase one, as the dose is scheduled to double on Monday), and watching a fuckton of Doctor Who. We finished all the 10th Doctor Eps, which was very sad.

This 11th Doctor looks about 19 years old. Not sure what's up with that, since I already know he's almost 1,000. Not looking forward to a bunch of eps with this River Song. She's gonna look like his mother as far as I can tell...

Anyway, I've been slacking on work. Missed Monday at the day job, haven't put up a new ZZN post since my Walking Dead shark jump post. Have not sent out any new interview Q's.
On the plus side, I did my taxes. I'm working on an anthology sub, and I apply for at least one new freelance gig every day. Did a little crafty stuff yesterday. H and I are making some suncatchers to send to his grandparents. Thinking of using some wire and foil to see if I can design my own.

Hopefully this weekend I can write the summary for The Finster Effect and get that fucker submitted.

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( New Meds are New, in picture form )

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I'm going to try a low dose of a mild anti-depressant.

I feel a bunch of different ways about it.
Ugh.

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Got an appointment with the psyche doctor tomorrow.
Let's hope we can get somewhere.

Be sure to check out my ZZN article about how The Walking Dead has jumped the shark. And please, post some sort of angry comment that will incite discussion. I was hoping there'd be an epic flame war by now. No dice...


This vid is hilarious if you've not yet had the pleasure.
All the other Mitt Romneys are just masturbating.

I keep trying to take a step back from politics, but dammit. The shit is hitting the fan out there. Democrat offices being fire bombed? Tennessee wanting to publish the names and vital stats of women seeking abortions? That's obscene. How can anyone deny that there is a war on women? Oh sorry--not ALL women, just those dirty sluts who want to have sex more often than they want to go through childbirth.

We finished season three of Doctor Who last night, then did the Christmas special. Now all that Saxxon stuff I've been seeing at etsy makes sense. Gonna drop a metric fuckton of money at Thinkgeek pretty soon, methinks.

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As most of you regular readers know, my mom is a very angry person. Zero-to-pissed at the drop of a hat. Angry when someone uses a word or phrase she doesn't know, furious when anything doesn't go as planned--no matter how minor; flies into a rage over anyone daring to disagree--infinitely worse if someone dares to suggest that she's wrong about something, and catagory 5 tornado of rage if she actually turns out to be wrong. When I was a kid, she threw a swingline stapler at my face because I said Ally Sheedy was a brunette in The Breakfast Club even though she's a redhead in real life. I know...clearly something you need to do violence to your kid over, right?

I've been feeling angry for well over a year now. My usual mode is sarcasm. Most of what I encounter (granted, this is home, work, friends, shopping, and the internet--all pretty irritating) ends in my feeling somewhere between annoyed and incensed. It doesn't just affect my feelings. It affects my real work, my stupid-day-job that I hate, and everything else I need to do. I've stopped leaving the house for all non-essential activities--I don't even go grocery shopping anymore. I can't get into a car without constantly thinking of hurling myself out of it while it's moving (though this is more of an express way thing, not around down). Last night I thought about what would happen if I smothered H with a pillow so he wouldn't have to put up with my crap. (No, I'm not actually going to do it.) That's the same rationale that mommies use when they drown their kids in a bathtub, or drive them over a bridge.

I don't mind telling you, that scares the crap out of me. If I was still single and sans insurance, I'd get myself admitted to inpatient psyche. I clearly need it. I can feel an utter emotional collapse coming on. As it is, inpatient psyche for even a week would wipe out our entire savings. Every last bit and then some. So I'm stuck. And guess what? That makes me angry too.


In other news, The Walking Dead sucks. Fuck those guys. I'm putting my Evil Dead article on hold so I can write about this in detail for ZZN.

I'm delighted to hear that the feds are now involved in Trayvon Martin's murder. All you pricks who went on and on over KONY don't seem to give a shit about an American kid who got murdered by some neighborhood watch loon who calls the cops every time a neighbor sneezes. This kind of goes back to my earlier point about how fucked up everything gets when people can't get the mental health treatment they need.
And the Obama spokesman who said the White House doesn't want to be involved? Seriously? We invade liberate and free every oil-infested country in the whole damn world--but when a young kid is murdered for the heinous crime of buying candy in a posh neighborhood--suddenly we don't want to be involved?
I call bullshit on that.

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My week off is drawing to a close. I got a ton of stuff done, and will get even more done by the end of this thing. Yay!

H's Grandmother is a lovely woman. She's sweet, doesn't hassle me about anything, calls just to see how we are--and it never turns into an uncomfortably lengthy convo because she's lonely. She sends beautiful cards and always gushes about the stuff we send her. I like her very much. H's Grandfather had a stroke and she takes care of him, has been for years. Last week, they moved into assisted living because taking care of him got to be too much for her. That frightens and depresses me more than I'm prepared to describe in detail here.

A lot of men in H's family have had strokes. And I? Well, let's just say I'm not the pinnacle of health. Twenty more years, we could be living in some kind of soylent based society depending on how some of this economic hoosefudge turns out. It's terrifying to be in my 40's and nowhere near able to own a home. On top of everything, I hate that talking to H's Grandmother makes me sad.
I really do like her.
Anyway, I'm going to make her some suncatchers and send them to her so they'll know we're thinking about them. Dragonflies.

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I'm smack in the middle of a week off from the day-job. Was hoping to have a steady freelance gig lined up by the time I got back. No dice, thus far.

Making some great edits to The Finster Effect. Love it even more than I did before, which is a lot. On schedule to have a query packet ready by Saturday. Yay!!! Speaking of my books, I got my very first one-star review on Amazon. It's for The Cat's Apprentice.

H and I have been watching Doctor Who. We just finished a two-parter where The Doctor has to be human. Then he's sad. I can't get over how good this show is, how impressive the writing is, how deep the themes are, and how smokin' fucking hot David Tennant is. Honestly though, that's an afterthought. I'd watch this show even if The Doctor looked like Dan Hedaya.

I'm glad I found another cool show to enjoy, because The Walking Dead sucks. It pains me to say it, you don't even know how much. H and I were both SO stoked when we heard that Darabont was doing TWD, that they had a fantastic cast, and they were pumping some real money into it. Sadly, all of that lasted for one season. Season two, a way-too long arc leading to what ended up being a really good mid-season finale. It should never have taken 7 whole episodes to get there. Or six...I forget now. Anyway, if you've been watching I'm sure you know all the stupid plot points and ridiculous idiocy that's been going down this season. (Presumably, spoilers in the comments).
And as much as I adore the work of Greg Nicotero, and think The Mist is a damn near perfect horror film--fuck him for the goings on with the swamp zombie. And fuck him for all that CGI blood. To you I say: Is that what you learned studying under Tom Motherfucking Savini (pretty sure that's his name now)??? To use goddamn, goddamn CGI blood? What are you, SyFy Saturday?!?
Just so you know, I'm not paying to own that shit either.
And I bought the first season on DVD despite its absurdly high price.

You people could have elevated the zombie genre in a way we've not seen since the time of 28 Days Later. Giving the world a riveting, action-filled, compelling zombie drama with high production values and intense and artful direction--and what did you do? You cheaped out. And you artists? You fucking stood for it. It is bullshit. As a fan, it offends me.
You all should be ashamed.
Except Jeffery DeMunn. I will always love you, Sir.

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I have the week off from the day-job and thought I might want to see about seeing a movie. When I checked out the box office reviews at Rotten Tomatoes, I was so sadly amused that I screencapped their current goings on just so I could show the all of you's.



I know, right?

( short day-job redux ) You know when The Daily Show shows a bunch of clips of everyone on FOX news (or in the media in general, depending) all using the same buzzwords to enforce a specific dialogue--and then pretending like they aren't? It kinda felt like that.

Working on edits of The Finster Effect. Just a few little things I think will help the reader along. Planning to send a query to Tor, while not really thinking they would take it (that's the spirit!)--it's my first choice right now. Once I hear back from them, next up is Permuted Press. I would love, Love, LOVE to get in on their deal with Audible.com. TFE is gonna be damn difficult to cast as an audiobook. Speaking of which, new podcast ep drops this afternoon. Mixing it in a few minutes, in fact. Off I go then.

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( Cut for Spoilers of last night's The Walking Dead )

Actually dudes, I posted this on Dreamwidth and am crossposting it here. It doesn't mean I love you any less. Honest. On Dreamwidth? Add me: "Wednes."

Been selling a LOT of books lately. I don't discuss numbers or money specifics publicly, but more people have bought or downloaded my books in the month of February than they did all of last year...by a WIDE margin. That knowledge is helping me get totally stoked about making edits to The Finster Effect and keeping up on all the other marketing crap I have to do. I had two (out of three) of my novels make it to the top ten in horror and/or contemporary fiction. I'm not exactly sure why Contemporary Fiction is its own category--but whatever.

Was thinking again about getting a table at Motor City Nightmares this year since I'm not having a book release party after all. But just the table is $300. Plus at least that much for books, and then transportation, hotel, and I might want to eat or buy something while I'm there. As much as I'd like to meet Tony Todd and have him sign my Candyman doll, I really cannot justify that kind of expenditure when I still haven't paid for my CPAP and pretty much gave up ever going to the oral surgeon for the $200 consult. (I was going to go, but got new glasses instead)

Having said that, I bought a slick bit of jewelry from someone on etsy that I think is great, and who also had some emergency vet bills happening. They didn't want a straight up donation (which is what I offered. People were so kind and generous that time that Clarence got sick.) but invited people to buy stuff from the etsy store. Soon I shall be sporting a truly unique and badass pendant of THE CRAWLING EYE. Yeah, just when you thought my horror cred could be none more better, it gets even better still.

Had lunch with my brother yesterday. We checked out a couple of low budget zombie screeners that I'll be reviewing soon for ZZN. Also hard at work on my treatise about the how and why I HATE the Evil Dead movies so much. It's going to be tremendous fun. Maybe it will be the beginning of a series of articles on why I hate stuff. You know you're all dying to know!

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Day-job. And and on it goes.
Heard back on some freelance gigs, including one that said "We'll want to fly you out for an interview," leading me to have all sorts of fat-person on a plane panic. I can't WAIT for some total stranger to let me know that my body is unacceptable to them. Besides, how to you explain to a prospective employer that they might have to buy you two seats?

Learned from The Rude Pundit that Andrew Breitbart died today--presumably of his own inner rage and bile. Who, oh who, will carry around pics of Anthony Weiner's junk (and then break out those pics to show talk show hosts as if it's normal to carry around famous junk-shots on your goddamn cell phone WHILE self-righteously holding yourself up as some kind of fucking example) now???

Stonegarden Publishing had a surprise (to me, anyway) one-day giveaway on a bunch of our books, including The Cat's Apprentice. I am delighted to tell you that it got as high as NUMBER THREE in HORROR!!! That is awesome. There were a whole big bunch of downloads, especially considering that I did zero publicity because I didn't know about it.

Major thanks to everyone who assured me that I made a great decision on the publishing front. My plan is to make the TFE edits I've been prattling on about, and then submit to Tor. After they turn me down, Permuted Press will be next. Actually, I might do those in reverse order. I just don't know yet. Point is, I'm totally going to go for a professional-size advance. I'm sick of not being an active member of Horror Writers Association. Because I'm a horror writer, and I want to associate, dammit! I want to vote in the Stoker Awards, and refer to Jack Ketchum as "my colleague," and be asked to write a forward for something.

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Well kids, I waited a bit to make this announcement because I don't want anyone to freak out as much as I did. This is new territory for me, so I'm not sure the actual rules about this sort of thing. So here goes.

The Finster Effect is NOT being published by JournalStone Publishing.
The book is NO LONGER scheduled to drop May 2012.

I think this is the part where I cite "creative differences" as the reason, while trying not to make me, or anyone, sound like a pretentious douche bag.
This was not an easy decision. I had to ask some hard questions about the book, why I'm writing, what I have to offer the zeitgeist (Yeah, doing a shitty job of avoiding pretension, no?) and whether or not I have any confidence at all in my abilities to judge what good writing is.

As it happens, I do.
I believe in myself, in this book, and in the readers--that they will trust me enough to follow me into this story and believe that I will answer all their questions. I can't think of a reason to publish one more goddamn zombie book if I'm not bringing something new to the table. And I am. This book made me cry a few times as I wrote it, and the ending knocked my socks off. I didn't even realize how much I loved it until just before I gave it to the editor in December. God DAMN, it's a good book.

Sad times. I was SO ready to move forward. I've been pre-marketing this book for over a year, so I am ready to bust out of the gate with some heavy hitting reviews and a sizable network of peeps who will help me boost the signal. Swag is moving forward as planned, just to make sure everything is ready when I do find a publisher who loves The Finster Effect, and believes in it (and me) as much as I do.

Interested publishers should feel free to contact me. Beat the rush--hit me up NOW before I start shopping it around. You can avoid the *chuckle* *snerk* *snort* bidding war that is sure to ensue.

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H and I got this for Christmas, and it's totally taken this long for me to post pics of it. I know, right?


Get it? CAPRICA? Toaster? Hahahahahahahaha!

( I forgot to resize one of the pics, so it's going under a cut for hugeness )


In other news, recording with my first child actor went swimmingly. He was enthusiastic and professional. I learned that a lot of the same skills one uses in customer service also help when working with children. There are pics of that event, but they will not be posted here. Sorry...

My interview with Night of the Living Dead's Judith O'Dea is now posted over to the Zombie Zone News. It's a really good one. She's a delight!

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Well, there's plenty of crazy to be had in the conservative sphere right now. Groups of straight, mostly white men are meeting in secret to decide how they can best get those dirty sluts to keep their legs shut so all the boys (will be boys) will stop getting them "into trouble." When I was a kid, an unmarried girl who was knocked up was referred to as being "in trouble." You know, the way you get "in trouble" for not cleaning your room, or saying something that gets five rounds of hollow point bullets shot through the laptop you bought with your birthday money. But I digress.

Everything sucks and everybody is stupid.
I keep applying for freelance gigs and then never hearing anything back. I clicked a link to check out online grad schools and have been getting constant calls from 2 schools for over a week now. The website says it costs at least $30K for an online Masters, so I don't really see the point in discussing it further. I have to get the hell out of my day-job. I'm feeling fine now about the day-to-day, but I seriously don't have it in me to keep using those terrible archaic computer programs for another busy season. I am confident that I won't be able to do it without flying into a rage. Even if I could, I'm also confident that I'm not being paid a good enough hourly wage to work with something that longs to be half as awesome as OS9.

Got a new keyboard for home. So far, it's great.

We had Valentine's Day. I got H some more of those sour freezer pops I got him for Xmas that he liked a lot. I also got him a T-shirt of the 11th Doctor. I've only seen up to the 10th Doctor, but I know H loves Matt Smith.
He made me another awesome card (more on this), some blood orange soda, some sparkling meyer lemonade, organic lemon curd, and a kitkat with hazelnuts. Man...hazelnut kitkat was outrageous, and I want to eat them til forever.

I'm trying to get H to make cards and sell them online. I know a lot of people do this, but I'm not sure how to start. I asked him to come up with 20 or so cards. We should be able to watermark them and list them on a site to produce and ship to order. I imagine I could host it at my same site and just pay someone to build it. Or maybe etsy would be a good way to start? H is so damn talented and it's annoying how many people who are less talented them he is making money with their stuff online. So, we're gonna give it a whirl. Any advice would be much appreciated.

New podcast ep expected to go up later today.
Also, does anybody know what the hell is going on with Stephen Colbert? I'm unhappy that the show is not on, and very concerned because no one is saying why.

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Sorry kids, but I have to post at length about the dad who puts 5 hollow point bullets into his kid's laptop after she had the nerve to complain about her parents on the internet. Oh, the humanity, that a 15-year-old girl should rant about chores and not getting an allowance.

I hear a lot of people applauding this asshole. I really don't get it. I know that some people LOVE to blame the victim--but how are any of you okay with a parent using a .45 to get their point across? If it was her boyfriend shooting up her shit--nobody would tell her she deserves it. Well, maybe Newt or Santorum, but nobody sane. I'm hearing a lot of blather about how kids today have no respect and how they'd do the same thing if it was "there kid." [sic] Are we really asserting that kids learn to be more respectful after watching a parent shoot up their shit?

I'd like to take a moment to explain a few things to a few people who think this kind of behavior is acceptable in a parent. I'm presuming that if you think this shit is kosher, that you were never abused by your parents. Or perhaps you were abused but are still deluding yourself into thinking that your PTSD and inability to connect emotionally with another person is "just one of those things" and that all those beatings you took along with the constant shaming and belittling was "no big deal" or "something all parents do." Note: many parents actually give a shit whether or not their kid has any self esteem, and actually put their child's comfort before their own--even when they're upset.

A parent who flies into a rage over nothing is TERRIFYING. It's like living with a fucking time bomb in your house. In my experience, sometimes that time bomb ticks loudly when it wants you to do something...letting you know that it has the power to completely disassemble you in seconds, and that nobody will be able to do anything about it. Sometimes that time bomb sits there dormant, daring you to live your life as if it isn't there. And other times, it pouts to you that it doesn't understand why your afraid of it...just before it blows up everything in its wake.
Yes, obviously I have issues with this sort of thing. As a kid who grew up in a constant state of fear, I'm a little edgy about people cheering while a dad is terrorizing his kid. I'm not suggesting that there be no follow up after a sweary rant is found on the internet. But if you watch the dad in the vid, it's not difficult to see where she learned how to write swear filled rants.

Here's the thing. There's a difference between punishment and revenge. I know a lot of Americans don't understand this, and that's why they support the death penalty. You kill them, we kill you may work for some adults--not me, but some. But the Do as I say, not as I do school of parenting was laughed out of town decades ago. This girl is obviously modeling the behavior she sees at home. Let's hope that when she grows up, she stops short of plugging a few rounds into whatever (Dad) thing is making her angry. But if she doesn't...apparently the internets largely think a .45 is a great way to solve family problems. And hell, maybe in Redneckistan, it is. But I would hope civilized people would know better--or at least that you don't show respect for something by putting a few bullets into it. Punishment is supposed to illustrate why the behavior is wrong, and provide incentive not to repeat the behavior. This dad copied the behavior and then expanded it, and then destroyed an expensive piece of equipment for no real reason. I suppose she'll be grounded for not doing the homework that was on the computer next...
The only lesson to be learned here is "My Dad is an asshole."

It's no secret that people who use violence to get their point across do so because they're control freaks who are shitty with words. That might explain why people on FB support this "father".
"How can u say he shul loose his daugter for that. peepel can punsish there kids how they want" [sic times infinity]. If this asshat was actually trying to teach a lesson, he might have say, given the laptop to charity, a school, a needy family, sold it, etc. But no...he destroyed it with his great big gun, then explained that his daughter was then going to pay for all the repairs he made to it. This, of course, smacks of the Why do you make me do it school of domestic violence. Right up there with the old maybe there'd be less rapes if so many women didn't dress like sluts. Victims are not responsible for the shit their attackers do. Nor are children responsible for the actions of their parents. Kids are supposed to do stupid shit. Parents are supposed to act like goddamn adults.
The mini rant about how his daughter's friends will learn that complaining on the internet is not okay? Please. That would be hilariously misinformed, except that it's punctuated by gun violence so it's no longer funny.

If the girl is fifteen, she only has to tolerate that asshattery for a little while longer. Most abusive parents don't seem to realize that there will come a day when the kid is grown up, and no longer has to accept abuse. Those of you who know me know that I've not spoken to my own mother since 1995. Last I heard, she was telling people it was because of money or something--and not because eventually, the dog you keep kicking will refuse to come back for more kicking.

That aside, isn't that rather an appalling example of irresponsible gun ownership? I thought the whole point of gun safety was to teach that guns are not toys. Sounds like SOMEbody needs to learn that lesson. Tell me...is it possible to shoot a gun with another gun?

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Just a quick reminder that my One Day Only FREE Kindle giveaway begins in just a few short hours.
From midnight-11:59am PST
Wednesday, February 1st
Kiss Me Like You Love Me is FREE to absolutely everyone.

It's not a contest.
It's not a competition.
You go there, you download it, it's yours.

It's an awesome deal.
I mean, Have you SEEN these reviews?!?

And please, tell all your buddies who like twisted shit.
Contains murder, intense violence, minors as sex objects, stupidity, cops, drug and alcohol use and abuse, people being jackasses, and a bunch of what the kids these days call "fucked up shit."

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I'm in my 40's. I can remember a time when that seemed ridiculously old. I can remember learning that my grandfather was *gasp* 54 and it seemed like the oldest thing in all of time.

Not having kids means I get to continue to live like a teenager in many ways, despite my advanceD decrepitude. And face it, decades of sloth and gluttony have indeed rendered me a bit less jaunty than other peeps my age. I'm working on strength training so I can eventually get into the house of horrors that is Cardio. But yeah, for a 40-something, I feel pretty tired, sore, and old.

That said...I learned today that another friend of mine is dying due to one of those things that people blame on fatness, AND/or "not taking care of yourself." I've not seen this dude in years, so I have no idea what his habits are. But he's a Big Guy, which means there's always some douchebag who will blame bad health on being heavy with absolutely no other facts.

It scares the hell out of me knowing that people my age are dying from this kind of shit. My right foot has been numb, which gives me constant nightmares about doctors coming in to cut it off in the night. My knees are bad, and it's difficult for me to get up off the floor by myself. I'm not ready for LifeAlert or anything, but the very idea that I could fall and take 20 seconds or more to stand back up again? Yikes. Fucking...yikes. I mean, what if I couldn't stand up at all? I can't even imagine.

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In case you've not read it, Kiss Me Like You Love Me is a damn good book. In the hopes that more people will hip themselves to it, this is happening:



Anybody who helps me spread the word gets my undying gratitude.

Let me be clear, this is a bloody, creepy, stabby book for GROWN UPs.
No sparkly shit, heroes saving the goddamn day...none of that happy crap.

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Which I stole from my intellectual hero, flemco

1. If you could live anywhere in the world where would it be?
I'd actually like to stay here in Ann Arbor, but live much better than I do.

2. Your biggest weakness?
Let's just say self-indulgence, and leave it there.

3. What is your favourite tv show?
The Simpsons. Colbert Report.

4. Name one thing you think you will never be able to do?
Be a mom.

5. Name a book that had a profound impact on your life view?
My Ishmael by Daniel Quinn. The Handmaid's Tale by Margaret Atwood.
American Psycho by Bret Easton Ellis. the first 20 years of Stephen King.

6. What was the last thing you bought?
Sweet and sour shrimp, and egg drop soup with wonton.

7. Where would you like to go on a first date?
Meh, don't care. It's all about the people.

8. Have you ever had to act in self defense?
Ha! Yes, plenty of times.

9. What is your least favorite number?
6.9, because it's not THAT goddamn funny.

10. Do you collect anything quirky?
Cartoon and horror memorabilia, movies, various and sundry fandom items
One might argue that everything I collect is quirky.

11. Do you have any family heirlooms?
If a Grandpa's Basement bar sign counts, then yes. Yes, I do.

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There were no cartoons last Sunday night, and we don't give a rat's ass about football. There have been a lot of ads On Demand for Lenny, starring the great Dustin Hoffman, and the chick who played Miss Tessmacher. I had never seen it, and I know very little about Lenny, except that he was a vulgar comedian who got arrested a lot. I presumed it was due to anti-establishment talk--the sort of thing that might get you pepper-sprayed today if you said it outside. There was some of that. But it's embarrassing to remember that there was a time in America when you could be arrested simply for saying a word. He was arrested a bunch of times, just for dirty talking in adult establishments. His opening act was a hooker for chrissake! It's not as if there were children there. Plus, he was kind of angry and nuts. So I relate.

The movie paints Bruce as troubled but desperately trying to do right. Hoffman plays him as kinda nuts, at least bi-polar if not schizophrenic. I am of the opinion that Dustin Hoffman is fucking amazing and one of the greatest actors of our time. As a kid, Little Big Man was deeply moving. Marathon Man is a horror/thriller classic. Kramer versus Kramer made me cry and cry. This movie is another masterpiece. An incredibly engrossing watch, and I'm still thinking about it days later.

Near the end, Bruce is trying to appeal to the judge in his anti-obscenity case. He could have literally gone to prison for telling dirty jokes. Lenny doesn't believe the judge is a bad guy. He also believes in his work, that is has value, that it isn't just profanity for the sake of it. He's right, for the most part. When he's yelling Can't we just talk about it--like people?!? and Please, don't take my words! it kind of fucked me up. I'm super emotional and precarious about the new book right now, so it was well-timed for that sort of thing. Drug deaths are always frustratingly sad, and his seemed totally avoidable. In the movie at least, Lenny Bruce is portrayed as just the type of guy who could be helped with mental health intervention. He just wouldn't have known or believed that in his time. Being an outsider meant not trusting anybody, and given how he was treated just for breaking a few social mores, I can't say that I blame him. Being that angry all the time really takes it out of you. I've been feeling it lately, so again, well-timed.

So yeah, I'm downloading some of his stuff to check out. And some Carlin too while I'm at it.

I'm planning to get a bunch more writing and marketing stuff today. Then I'll look for some new jobs to apply for when I get home. I have to haul my CPAP machine over to the supply place so they can read the SD Card to prove I'm using it. I don't know why I can't just bring the card, but they are lame about it. Plus I'll find out what, if anything, my new insurance will cover on the CPAP since it's nowhere near paid for. That should be fun. I'm also gonna check out a movie called Deliver Us From Evil, which I'm going in to basically cold.

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New Yoga DVD is kicking my ass. Seriously, kicking it.
I can't even get through the first 25 minute segment. I are weak.
But soon...I shall be strong. *kicks guy into pit* THIS IS WEDNES!!!!

Had a delightful exchange on the Facebook with Marilyn Wann. I told her I had a shirt with her book cover on it, and she said I must be super badass. Duh. I told her I needed a shirt apprising people that Ms Wann thinks I'm badass. Ha!

Am working on my first article written entirely with Dragon Dictate. It's a cool program, until I take a short break and start singing along with the iTunes. There's a lot to like about Alcatraz. Sam Neill has long been a boon to horror and why do I give valuable time to people who don't care if I live or die. Yeah, it's silly. Still, DD knows a lot of great nerdy words. It understood that Daleks and Wookies do not go to Hogwarts. Ha again!

No new book reviews in some time. If you owe me a review, you better gets to writing it! Another great interview up at Zombie Zone News. I loved this guy's book and thought he was a great interview!

Alcatraz is pretty good so far. We're giving it a whirl. I'm not going to write a whole big thing here since I'm working on a thing for AC. Also looking into writing for Horror Web, as they are needing new writers and the contact guy seems nice.

The podcast is becoming a stressful pain in my ass. I will be very happy when I no longer have to fuck around with these. By which I mean that I hope I don't have to produce The Finster Effect myself. The cast is too friggin' huge anyway.

Correct me if I'm wrong, but both Rick Santorum and Newt Gingrich have been two of the most hated men in contemporary politics for years. Santorum has been a hateful bigot for at least a decade, and Gingrich has been saying shitty things about minorities and the poor since I was a teenager. So why is anyone taking these pricks seriously? How is that even possible?!? Thanks to Dan Savage (and yay for him, I say) we simply cannot have a president Santorum. We just can't. Gingrich has always been a complete bastard. Mark Maron used to talk about him back when he was crazy smokin' hot. Maron's still attractive in a goofy way, but I guess every man can't age as well as John Schneider. Seriously. John Schneider is hotter now than he was when I was a kid.
Or am I just saying that to get you to watch the Super Shark musical trailer???

Because that's just the kind of thing I'd do...and he's all the way at the end.
Still, it's a marvelous trailer. Just delightful.

Actually dudes, I posted this on Dreamwidth and am crossposting it here. It doesn't mean I love you any less. Honest. On Dreamwidth? Add me: "Wednes."

When I was a kid, my mom never felt well. She was constantly complaining about her head, her stomach, feeling tired, sick, etc. And even as a kid I was like "You live on Mountain Dew, potato chips and Sudafed, of course you feel like ass." Since her mom died young, she would talk a lot about how she didn't want to also die young. Fun fact: she hasn't.

However...
I don't do those things. I eat a variety of fruits and veggies, though I'm also heavy on the meat and carbs. I exercise, I get enough sleep (especially now, thank you CPAP!) and avoid caffeine, booze, cigs, and hard drugs. I drink plenty of water. Still...I feel like crap more often than not. Headaches, soreness/stiffness, stomach and digestive crap. It seems like I never stop complaining about how I feel. I'm sick of it. And I'm really terrible at suffering in silence. I'm pretty loud about it.

This is why I've been slowly working with docs recently to try and get things looked at and figured out. Maybe I expect too much. Having a CPAP isn't going to make me never feel tired again. My blood pressure being in a healthy range (finally) is not the same as me actually being fit enough for strenuous activity. Finally being on bi-polar meds isn't going to mean I'm never sad, depressed, or manic again. And avoiding some of my moms more heinous qualities is not really doing that much to prevent me from turning into her.

I sometimes wonder if the real reason I never got around to having kids was my paralyzing fear of being like her. I mean, everything else I ever wanted to do, I eventually did or am working on now. I don't know if I'm tired and sick, or just sick and tired. I hate my day-job so much, it makes me angry every time I wake up and realize I have to come here. I hate the fact that I have to have a job like this, AND how much they just don't give a crap about people who do what I do. Hate. But I also don't want to write for companies that are evil--and evil companies seem to be always hiring. *sigh*

Actually dudes, I posted this on Dreamwidth and am crossposting it here. It doesn't mean I love you any less. Honest. On Dreamwidth? Add me: "Wednes."

No bites yet for long-term freelance work or steady, part-time writing gigs. Got offered a few projects, but nothing that will allow me to bid a fond Fuck You to my current day-job. Still, keeping up with my plan to apply to at least one new job every business day. Yay.

My yoga stuff finally showed up.
Will take it for a test toast tomorrow.

Speaking of test-toast, H and I received the Caprica Cylon Toaster, so we can make sammies with cylons on the front. I'm stoked. It was a gift from this couple that H knows thru work and I kind of know thru H. Full pictorial spread coming once we make our sammies.
Cylons like bacon, right?

Still working on some subs, some articles, and reading like a fiend on this here Kindle. I have to be careful of this whole "Oh, it's only $.99, or $2.99 or wait...$6.99 is a really good deal for blah blah blah and the next thing I know, H is demanding to know why I spent $60 on Amazon. Oops. It's similar to the "problem" I had with iTunes until I discovered streaming. Still...I'm getting very into this Jonathan Maberry cat. Turns out, he's not just a charming guy from The Facebook.

Thus endeth the 5-day-job-day work week, of which I am not a fan. Well, not quite yet, as I'm going to be trapped here until 5pm. Happily, it's slow as fuck. I can't really get any actual writing done at the day-job, but I can read the fuck out of some books.
I brought my Kindle with me so I can continue reading Lemony Snicket. I've only read the first 3 so far--and I'm rereading them all before I move forward. Snicket starts killing loveable characters off much earlier than Rowling did. I still don't know why they didn't make the rest of the series into movies. Damn, that first one was a ton of fun with spectacular art direction.

I want to sleep for an entire day. I suspect that this day will be tomorrow.

Also, we got new phones. I didn't want to go with Sprint again because their phones looked sucky. We got LGRumor Touch phones. Big surprise, they are sucky. The scrolling is terrible--especially if you're used to iPod scrolling--which is good. You can make your own ringtones, but only the stuff you buy can be made into alarms, message indicators, etc. So as much as I want my phone to yell Son of a Whooooooooore when I get a message, it won't. I can only set it as a ring, which means it does it multiple times--which is less funny. Oh well...

The phrase "Judeo-Christian Sharia" is thrilling me greatly. Not that people are doing it, but that people are calling it that. These damn Christians hate our freedom and want to destroy us. That's why they're blowing up our medical clinics and shaming our women.
Santorum, you disgust me.

Shark Night (2D) is going on my Ridiculist. (Take THAT, Anderson Cooper) I watched it for free, and knew that it would not be good. In fact, I presumed it would be slasher-quality, with decent CGI and a few laughs. It wasn't even that good. It was like, SyFy Saturday "good". If you're gonna have a guy lose an arm (bloodlessly, for some reason), he can't get up a few hours later and kill a hammerhead with his one good arm and a sharp stick. If you do, you can't THEN decide that he's suddenly near death and can't even sit up by himself. And the blonde who can't figure out how to stay dressed? Tired.
Cookie cutter sharks do not aggressively hunt in packs.
And if 3 blithering, illiterate, racist, drunken idiots have captured multiple large sharks alive and then moved them to a centralized location (something professionals often screw up), and then placed them into traps (where they can miraculously breathe while staying still in the water) where they can be released at will...actually, it doesn't matter. Just don't do it. It's stupid.
Shark Night essentially takes Hostel, Vacancy, Wrong Turn, and Lake Placid, adds some shark CGI, a few chicks in bikinis, and some dumbass rednecks and calls it a movie.
It isn't. Not really.

Actually dudes, I posted this on Dreamwidth and am crossposting it here. It doesn't mean I love you any less. Honest. On Dreamwidth? Add me: "Wednes."

Smack in the middle of a 5-day-job-day work-week. Now that I have all those hyphens out of my system, I'm actually getting a ton of stuff done. Short day for me, as it's my usual day off. 6-9 is just annoying enough to curb my productivity. Anywhoo... My plan to apply to at least one new freelance job every business day is moving forward full steam. I have ideas for a couple great new articles, and am right on schedule with all my regular marketing stuff. Yay for me!

Santorum. No. Just...stop it. All of you.

Been watching Doctor Who. Rewatched all the Eccleston eps and are 4 eps in to the Tennants. Sarah Jane...*sigh* David Tennant is so super attractive. He and James Purefoy need to Celebrity Deathmatch--the winner gets my undying affection. I know, right? ;-] I'm digging the hell out of Doctor Who. The writing is just so damn good. How many times do I say: Why can't they just get rid of one special effect and hire decent writers? That, my friends, is Doctor Who. Looks like it was made for $50 an episode, but it's so goddamn brilliant and moving that the visuals barely matter. Um...except The Doctor. They're all pretty hot.

Still waiting for my new yoga mat and blocks to arrive.
I shall become the yoga master. It's a new kind I'm trying. No more Iyengar...which really does seem to be designed for skinny people. Also waiting for the new headphones Girl-H ordered for me from Amazon. Should be here any day. I'm stoked.

Also, Dragon Dictate is awesome. Just plain awesome. Plus, it knows a bunch of nerd words. So far, Shatner, Nimoy, Jedi, Gandalf, Mordor, and Harryhousen. Seriously. I have programmed nothing yet and it knows all those words. I'm finding the speech recognition to be excellent, so long as I speak in my radio voice. I'm using a $30 Logitech mic and having great results.

I need a haircut. The thing about cool short haircuts is that they must be maintained. I wish I could just go to a barber. $15 and out the door. I really just need the back trimmed and cleaned up anyway. Hmmm...maybe I will try going to a barber. Or Greatclips. But I don't trust those bastards.

And finally, Rick Santorum's wife had a partial-birth abortion.
Does that mean he probably won't also come out of the closet before the election?
Because seriously, fuck him.

Actually dudes, I posted this on Dreamwidth and am crossposting it here. It doesn't mean I love you any less. Honest. On Dreamwidth? Add me: "Wednes."

The "New Year" should not start in the middle of the damn winter. That makes no sense.

That said, I have done a few things since last Dec 31st. I'm not even sure I remember all the highlights. Let's see:

--Became a Contributing Editor at Zombie Zone News.
--Found out that the "mysterious bird deaths" were not mysterious at all. The CDC and WWF both knew about the poison causing it and did fuckall about it. Thus endeth my contributions to WWF.
--Learned that the Salvation Army is a bunch of homophobes. No more money or stuff there, either.
--Planned Parenthood is the only organization I still donate to regularly. We're not rich, but we do our best to support causes we believe it. Honestly, I give more money when my friends have emergencies and hit people up online. My friends do this sort of thing judiciously, so I try to help when I can.
--Found a new publisher. Still a small house, but chomping at the bit to market the hell out of my new book, The Finster Effect.
--Finished what is about to become my FOURTH published novel. Woot.
--Tried my hand at freelancing. So far, meh. But this year I will make it my primary source of income.
--Dug the hell out of Harry Potter 7.2, Dexter, American Horror Story, and the zombie authors at Permuted Press.
--Heard the greatest TV dub of my entire life: "That's it! I'm tired of these monkey fighting snakes, on this Monday to Friday plane!"
--Came to love Obama slightly less than I wanted to.

This year I will:
--Leave my day-job. Let's hope I can refrain from burning it to the ground on my way out.
--Have a huge, rockin' book release party for The Finster Effect.
--Yoga minimum of 4 days a week. Strength training. For strongness.
--Will draft my new book this year. Yep, gonna draft the WHOLE THING.
--Do at least 2 interviews per month for ZZN, and at least 2-zombie articles for same.
--Will write one new excellent article for Associated Content each month.
--Bake more bread than I buy at the store.

EDIT: I forgot, I'm also going to try my hand at creating a language for my next horror book, which I may not begin until 2013--you know, if the world doesn't implode or whatever. I don't know if I've got the linguistic muscle to actually create a language, but I'm giving it a go.

Actually dudes, I posted this on Dreamwidth and am crossposting it here. It doesn't mean I love you any less. Honest. On Dreamwidth? Add me: "Wednes."

H and I watched the remake of Fright Night last night. It was damn entertaining, and I figure I'll probably buy it at some point. Clever writing, good cast, great Chris Sarandon cameo. I do enjoy when vampires are actually played for scares, rather than say, sparkly homoeroticism. Even the Anne Rice stuff doesn't really hold up now that I'm not an angst-ridden pre-emo teen.
You ever see those Tex Avery cartoons where the wolf is looking at the girl, howling and slapping the table--eyes bugging out across the room? That's how I felt about David Tennant in this movie. Fo Shiz.

Girl-H is back home to PA. She's not thrilled, and will probably be leaving the country again soon. I suspect that she's undergoing the same thing I went through after college--wherein the family has this "Oh, so you think you're better than us now?" attitude. Girl-H is as gentle and good-natured as my H, so she doesn't deserve that shit. I sincerely hope it's not also some crap about Grace wanting to shut out kids from her previous marriage(s). H and Girl-H don't have the same Dad, and Grace is not married to either of their Dad's currently. Odd for someone who had to walk out of my wedding for its terrible pagan leaning. But I digress...

Writer Resume is looking good. Applying for no less than three jobs I have a decent shot at. Am def making this a regular thing. The day-job is making it pretty clear than any bump in pay we get will be tiny and grudgingly given. To give some perspective, my understanding is that cost-of-living increase is roughly 3% a year. My raises have been 2% every-other year. So if I stay with the company for 10 years, I'll be making a dollar an hour more than when I started--only I'll be doing at least 3x as much work, with less training and shitty software. Every year they make it more and more clear that expertise, skill, etc, means basically nothing to them. Their newest crappy idea is that everybody should be able to take calls for every department. So yeah, I long for the day that I can give notice in the manner of that guy from Half Baked. ;-]

My USB mic came in today. It's a cheap one, meant to work with my newly received copy of Dragon Dictate, courtesy of my buddy in Battle Creek. *waves* I didn't really think it through, because it hadn't occurred to me that I won't be able to listen to music while I write if I'm using DD. Or maybe I could, but I'd have to wear headphones. I have to look into it. But anyway, my cheap mic is here.

Have a new Yoga setup on the way. A good mat, some blocks, and a new fat-chick doing Yoga DVD. Looking forward to getting into that. Girl-H also bought me some headphones that will be arriving soon. So I guess I'm just Little Miss Gettin' Stuff. heh.

Oral surgeon appt was a bust. $25 in cabs to find out that they don't call you when they're running 2+ hours behind. As I don't have all fucking day, I rescheduled for next week. Then I got home and remembered that I'm working on both my days off next week. So I guess I'll be rescheduling again.

Decided I enjoyed American Horror Story so much, I'm going to buy it when it comes out on DVD. I am so excited to have a series that really respects horror fans. Next season, new locale and an all-new cast. Please, AHS, don't let me down. And Walking Dead? Your ass is still skating on thin ice, your badass finale notwithstanding. Speaking of badass finales, how much did the last seconds of Dexter Season Six kick your ass? I know, right? Easily the best season finale since LOST went off the air (I'm thinking of S1 and S3 finales in particular).

Actually dudes, I posted this on Dreamwidth and am crossposting it here. It doesn't mean I love you any less. Honest. On Dreamwidth? Add me: "Wednes."

Thank goodness. Christmas is here and soon we can all stop correcting each others well wishes. That will be nice. I'm still complaining because I worked the day-job Friday, and am in again tomorrow even though NO shippers are actually shipping. We won't be able to do anything for anyone, yet we still have to show up at 9 freaking a.m. But I digress...

Girl-H has been staying here for over 2 weeks. I love her. She is great.
Still, it'll be nice to be able to walk around in my underwear again. And to eat meat.
I like meat.
Anyway, we're pretty festive:

H hates when people take his picture.

I got H a new book by C.S. Lewis called Boxen. I also got him Ghostbusters on Blu-Ray, a Superman cartoon DVD, some sour freezer pops, the 10th Doctor's screwdriver, Astronaut Ice Cream, and a few little trinkets for the stocking.
Girl-H got a Kindle with warranty (which she loves, Yay!), and some random coolness from Thinkgeek: 20D of Destiny, cupcake mints, breathable chocolate, edible flowers, miracle berries, etc.

H got me this amazing thing:

Not Slytherin...Not Slytherin...

My stocking had a bunch of pens from the Dexter store that look like syringes. They even have red liquid inside. I look forward to a cop hassling me over them. *snerk*

Apparently, H got me something else cool, but it arrived broken so I don't get to know what it is yet.

( H designed a badass card for us to give out. I'm putting it under a cut for hugeness, (EDIT: it's smaller now, but still easy to read) but I swear it's H's crowning card achievement. Do give it a read! )

We're not really doing anything fancy. No big meal, no visiting, though we'll likely watch H's new copy of Ghostbusters. I made rolls, some with blueberry, and some with nutella. I think I'm going to stop writing to you chumps and go have some.

Happy Holidays to every last one of you.

Actually dudes, I posted this on Dreamwidth and am crossposting it here. It doesn't mean I love you any less. Honest. On Dreamwidth? Add me: "Wednes."

I figured that since Stephe--excuse me, Richard Bachman's book/novella, Rage is no longer in print, that it wouldn't chafe any balls for me to download it as a pdf, and reformat it for my shiny new Kindle. So I did. Like most sad freaks with brains, I read Mr King voraciously as a kid ("kid" in this case, meaning age 10 thru getting the hell out of that house at 17, and then through my 20's). I loved the short stories in particular, and indeed went through multiple copies of both Night Shift and Skeleton Crew (that had the same terrifying monkey on the front that my Grandpa had in his basement). King is the guy who first taught me about the effectiveness of different POV's. Personally, I find that 1st person is the only POV I can write convincingly, the only truthy option for me. King taught me tons about how to craft a story, how to scare people, how to keep things hidden from the reader while looking like you're baring it all. And this was years before he wrote Danse Macabre and On Writing. He took horror seriously, in a way that few others did. He was, and is, a fucking genius. I want to nut-punch these asshats who bitch that King is no good anymore the same way drunk dickheads in their 20's complain that The Simpsons just aren't as funny as it was when it started--you know, before they were even in the womb. If you deny the genius of, or the effect that Stephen King has had on horror, and all literature, then you're either functionally illiterate, or a total asshat.

So...
I finished re-re reading RAGE about an hour ago. I intended to sit right down and write this, but having a houseguest makes every non-bathroom task take thrice as long as it should. I honestly believe that RAGE is King's best and most truthful book. My short story, Whitman, I ain't is loosely based on it. And while I didn't realize it until recently, my first novel, A Stabbing for Sadie is really just a novel-length attempt to capture the feel and style of Charlie Decker and his Fantastical Adventure in Getting it on.

It pains and saddens me that King wanted RAGE out of print. I'm aware that at least 2 kids who shot up 2 different schools had copies of this book when their rooms were searched. Searching a kid's room and taking guesses as to why he did what he did is something Decker would have taken profound exception to. I understand fully how potent the power of a book can be. I know that some of the books I've read have changed my life and the way I live it. And I'm pretty sure there are books that have affected me so subtly, that I'm not even aware of their influence. I admit that. Non-sarcastically. Really, I do.

But...people need books. They need to hear and feel and think in a different way. They need to at least consider my oft-asserted premise that there is no such thing as evil people. That's important, so I'm going to say it again:

There is no such thing as evil people.

Yes, people do evil things. They kill, hurt or hunt for pleasure, they steal and lie and do all manner of ghastly shit. But I'm telling you, these people are BROKEN. They are not inherently evil. You don't repeatedly throw your iPhone on the pavement and then blame the web browser when it stops working. You don't hit a kid for years and then wonder why he's angry. You don't lie to someone over and over and then wonder why they no longer trust you. You don't treat someone like ass, again and again for their whole damn lives and then act all shocked and surprised when they do something back. Oh wait...lots of people do that. Tons. Maybe even the majority.
And that's why we like to slap the label "Evil" on behavior that we don't like. It totally takes the burden off the shitty things we do that make other people what they are. Sure, we all have choices, and we all have to take responsibility for what we do. All of us. That includes not blaming a book for a kid that everyone around him had a hand in breaking, and the kid who may or may not cite the book as his inspiration. I think that's something adults foist on kids more than something kids actually do. If Ozzy or the guys from Judas Priest were here, I imagine they'd agree.

I wanted to get out there and tear shit up as a kid. I wanted to make good ol' mater feel as bad as she made me feel. I didn't exactly know how, but I had a few ideas. In high school, I once had a therapy session where we role played me putting poison in her bottle of Mountain Dew. I had said to the doc I was sure I'd feel terrible. But when we role played it, I laughed. A giggle at first, then more--and by the end I was like a cackling supervillian. I didn't want to hurt people. Not really. But to be powerful, for just a few minutes? Yes. Just...yes.

That's how I always felt about Charlie Decker. Charlie cozying up to his Id warmed my sad, adolescent heart. It's why I didn't ever start a fire in MY locker--why I didn't carry a gun to class (although I did spend a few years in college carrying a big knife for some reason. I felt nearly naked without it), or actually physically hurt anybody. Eventually, I was able to get out of a terrible situation, then another, then another, and get the help I needed. I used to kind of wish Stephen King would tell us what ever happened to Charlie Decker like he's about to with Danny Torrance. He hasn't, but I like to think Charlie was able to figure shit out, and that he turned out a lot like me.

Actually dudes, I posted this on Dreamwidth and am crossposting it here. It doesn't mean I love you any less. Honest. On Dreamwidth? Add me: "Wednes."

In a shocking turn of events, I actually enjoy LJ's new comment functionality.

I absolutely adore being a novelist, a zombie pundit (meaning that I writeabout zombies, not that I am one), and a generally snarky gal.

I do wish I could do these things with enough success and monetary gain that I could quit my life-sucking, crap-paying day-job. Though if I did that, I'd probably have regular parties with my current co-workers, because I adore them.

Stress, I has it.
Woke up yesterday with tremendous back pain and had to go to the grocery store. Girl-H is still staying with us for another week. I'm feeling a little too stressed and crazy for a house guest. And unlike H, Girl-H suspects that my every bad mood is because of her, so I have guilt on top of everything else. Long shift today, then home to cook for the H's, then back to work for, as I said on FB, a stupid fucking night meeting that couldn't possibly wait until after the holiday for some reason.

Our dishwasher is broken, which is especially irritating because we have extra dishes because of guests and Xmas cooking, and all the bottles and extracts and such. Everybody who is getting cookies or cakes is getting them late. My mom would be rolling in her grave--except she isn't dead.

My fabulous extracts turned out fabulous. I knew it!
Actually, I didn't. I was ascared. But I did 8 bottles each (six smallish and 4 large) of vanilla blend (Madagascar, tahitian, and mexico beans in good rum) and organic lavender in creme vodka. It has come to my attention that sending old people giant boxes of sweets may not be entirely welcome. And it saves me a LOT of time and some money not doing that--though it was about $100 to get all the extract stuff. My kitchen smells awesome. My bro is getting a box of cookies after the "new year," and H's grandparents are getting cran-cherry bread the week after Xmas. I was gonna do butter cookies with good vanilla beans but I don't think I'll have time since I'm working until 7pm tomorrow, then home to make a giant veggie stir fry for the H's.

Kim Jong Il dead. "War" in Iraq "over".
I'm sure this will make the world right again, much how eating a Lean Cuisine meal suddenly makes the pounds fly off. We'll be in our skinny jeans by summer--YEAH! ;-[

Actually dudes, I posted this on Dreamwidth and am crossposting it here. It doesn't mean I love you any less. Honest. On Dreamwidth? Add me: "Wednes."

I watch Miracle on 34th Street and It's a Wonderful Life every year. And I cry, during both, EVERY YEAR.

And I'm quite comfortable with that.

Yeah, so I was supposed to get caught up on all the work I've been slacking on due to The Finster Effect. I didn't realize how difficult it would be to get anything done with a houseguest. I kind of figured H and Girl-H would be out seeing movies, going to the arcade, or just generally not being here so I could work. But no. I've barely gotten anything done since Friday. And oddly enough, H got totally attitudey with me when I asked him to clear out so I could record before Girl-H woke up. I didn't make it, and a 20 minute recording took well over an hour. And I still have to edit, mix and post it. I'm super pissed off though, so I'm getting stuff off my chest so that anything I write today doesn't turn out sarcastic. I have to edit and post the Save Evans City Cemetery Chapel article, and draft that Dead Mann Walking book review. Spoiler Alert: I liked it!

Come to think of it, I was pissed off yesterday. Still sick--food poisoning, I think. Had to go to work and every single call I took was some older-than-Moses person who wanted me to explain how the internet worked. 'Tis the season for people who know less than fuck-all about the stuff they want to buy for their kids and grandkids, nieces and nephews, and then they want to argue with me about the stuff they know nothing about. For the record:
--There is no key of 6. Key signatures are in letters, genius.
--Cellos do not require chinrests.
--A viola needs four strings, and 13 inches is NOT "as big as they come."
--You can't use a pencil, vaseline, or tacky glue instead of rosin.
--The bow does not have strings on it. It has hair. Horsehair.
--We do not sell "vegan" bows. Fake bowhair sounds like ass.
--Everything that costs more than $20 is not necessarily a "ripoff."
--No, I will not transcribe the music before I send it. Even if I knew how, I wouldn't.
--No, I will not drive to the post office to stop your package because you ordered the wrong thing.
--No, it is not a good idea to leave a water resistant case out in the rain, idiot.
--No, I will not give you a discount just because you asked.
--No, you cannot have free shipping because you're a long-time customer.

Plus, my November sales bonus that I intended to use to buy Girl-H's gift was not even big enough to buy the warranty for her gift. The bonus scale already screws part timers because it's based on a 40-hour work week. But now that they've given me a zillion other jobs to do, I have even less time on the phones to make sales. Combine that with the fact that they took our holiday pay and I'm down a couple hundred dollars a year before I pay for a single cab.
Long story short, I really need to get the hell out of that place.

Quickly, TV-wise:
--Dexter is rocking my socks. I still really want Deb to die, though I love her more than ever this season.
--American Horror Story is consistently awesome and continues to kick my ass. Last week's reveal was truly magnificent. I heart Tate.
--Still watching Terra Nova. Meh.
--Boardwalk Empire finale was terribly upsetting. Fuck Eli.
--Bag of Bones is on the DVR, hopefully I'll have time to watch soon.

To sum up, I'm cranky and irritated and have tons of work to do.
Off I go then...

Actually dudes, I posted this on Dreamwidth and am crossposting it here. It doesn't mean I love you any less. Honest. On Dreamwidth? Add me: "Wednes."

From where I'm sitting, this is not a rumor. We switched to purina when it was on sale same price as store brand. I thought JoJo and Pente were sick because of a food change. But it went on for weeks--which NEVER happened. Switched back to store brand and now they are fine. Not quite sure why this isn't everywhere.

Originally posted by issendai at WARNING: Purina pet food has started making pets ill

I've talked about this a few times in passing, but decided recently that it's an important enough concept that it deserves a post of its own. I'm framing it in terms of women. But if you're a dude and the advice makes sense to you, by all mean avail yourself of it.

I know plenty of women who struggle with interpersonal relationship issues whether at home, with extended families, at work, the neighborhood--whatever. Often times, we struggle with whether or not it's "worth it to say something" or more specifically--we worry about what will happen and/or what people will say about us if we do or say something in our own defense. I know women who remain in inappropriate relationships because "Who am I to say I deserve better?" I have friends who have accepted various types of harassment with quiet grace, not considering that their silence leaves other people vulnerable to abusers and harassers of all kinds because "It's not that big a deal; I can handle it." We all have lots of excuses why it's not a good idea to stand up for ourselves. So we hope that he'll stop drinking less and realize what a good thing they have in us. We tolerate an unacceptable work situation and halfheartedly scroll through job listings when we are especially angry. We roll our eyes and wish things could be different. We tolerate. We accept.

In a general sense, tolerance and acceptance are wonderful things. But when we're being treated in ways that harm us, we need to stand up. That's the advice I'd give my best friend.

*lightbulb appears over head*

I propose that instead of letting all those excuses (okay, and reasons) keep us from working toward the life and relationships we want--that We follow the advice we would give to our own best friends. Or at the very least, that we apply that advice to ourselves, even if we ultimately make another choice.

Do we tell our best friends to tolerate abuse and/or stay with an abuser?
Do we suggest that maybe if they act nicer, their mean boss will stop making personal insults?
Have we ever told a friend that maybe the reason their mother is so critical is that they haven't really done much with their life?
Have we told a friend that maybe once they lose weight they'll be able to find someone who isn't always looking at other women--but for now we should just stay put?
Or that maybe they should act less *insert thing here* so people won't pick on us.

No, we don't.

Most of us would stay up all night talking down a friend in trouble. We'd do our very best to help them see how wonderful and valuable they are--that they deserve good things, and that there's nothing wrong with asking for them--even demanding them in some cases. We tell our friends that they deserve to be treated in a respectful and dignified manner--and if they aren't getting that treatment, to surround themselves by people who aren't mean spirited asshats.

So again, I propose that we all try to treat ourselves as well as we treat our best friend.
If it's good advice for them, it's almost certainly good advice for us.

The only thing worse than being treated horribly by other people, is thinking they're treating you that way because you deserve it.

Love this concept? Do share it with your BFFs!