Whaddaya MEAN You've Never Heard of Me?!?

Whelp, it was fun having a president who didn't make me ashamed to be an American. I mean, look at what we've had to deal with just in my lifetime.

Jimmy Carter was awesome, but treated badly due to his "soft" nature. See, when I was a kid, it was Democrats who said we should be a "Christian nation," by which they meant feeding the poor and housing the homeless. Like many things between Republicans and Democrats, this has completely flipped. Now the GOP co-opts religion for their own purposes, but apparently THEIR Jesus has no interest in feeding people or helping them have homes. Now religion means anti-gay legislation and the closing of family planning clinics. Because...god is love?

Then Reagan. Now, I think he was a pretty terrible president, policy-wise. He funded terrorists and talked a lot of smack about the poor and gays. His wife was even worse. But at least Reagan made rich people pay their taxes. Can't get that nowadays. As much as I disliked Reagan, I wasn't humiliated at the idea that he represented my country.

Bush Sr should never have been POTUS in the first place, mainly because he ran the CIA. That's not cool. If you ever work in a big box retailer, they have a particular way the money is sorted at the end of the day. One guy calculates how much money their should be, while someone else counts how much money there is. This is to prevent theft and chicanery. Apparently, the United fucking States of America needed no such safeguards.

Clinton. Awesome guy, down to earth. Solid policies, great economic growth. All he had to do was say "Actually, what I do with my penis is not relevant to how I run the country. Next questions?" But no...he had to do a stupid lying tapdance that eventually made him a laughing stock. That sucked.

Bush 2. Do I even need to explain this one? He and Rick Perry should do a road movie where they blunder their way across the country, occasionally getting schooled by the people they've sought to oppress.

Obama. *sky opens and rainbows so bright they keep us from seeing all the drone strikes, still open Guantanamo, and lack of single payer healthcare* Yaaaay!!! So eloquent, so unwilling to cheat on his wife, so personable...

And now...this.
I still don't get it. I don't care how poor you are, how angry you feel about political-correctness (AKA basic human decency), or how really racist you are. You'd have to be monstrously stupid to think a man like Drumpf is actually interested in helping the poor and middle class. There is no metric by which Betsy DeVos, Rick Perry, Jeff Sessions, or Ben Carson are good choices for goddamn anything. You might as well put Charles Manson in charge of youth outreach, and maybe Yosemite Sam as a liaison to the NRA.

In other news, now might be a good time to buy a set of encyclopedias. People laugh at having a set of books collecting known knowledge of the world. But see, a set of encyclopedias is a snapshot of the world as we know it. It's supposed to lack bias. But if you've ever read an encyclopedia from say, the 60s, some of the biases are much more evident now. The America we enjoy now and the one we'll be left with in 20/20 may be markedly different. Might be nice to have a hard copy to compare and contrast.

H and I were gone all last week, housesitting for some good friends. It's pretty cool, because all the stuff they have is nicer than the stuff we have. Their living room TV is big as a bathtub and has a better sound system than the local indie theatre. The recliner goes up and down by itself, and the fridge makes ice and the most delicious water I've ever had outside an Evian bottle. Plus, dogs. I love dogs, but can't have one in the shitty matchbox I live in.

Of course, I didn't post online that both H and I were out of town, or that our apartment was sitting empty (well, with cats, but they aren't good at guarding things). But everyone seemed to want to put it on my page. "Hey, aren't you guys out of town?" "Are you and H having fun being away?" "Who is watching your cats while you and H are gone?" It's as if people don't know that we live in a shitty neighborhood with shitty security and neighbors who would barely take notice if a stranger stole our shit in the middle of the night. Happily, though, nothing bad happened. Some errant JoJo puke and the eating of birthday flowers. That's all. H and I had a swell time eating unhealthy food (mostly) and watching HULU, which I've learned has even shittier horror movies than Netflix. I was actually tired of bacon by the end of the week.

I got some birthday presents:
A collection of Amazon gift cards allowed me to buy myself this.
I also got a fancy electric herb grinder...for grinding herbs.
H got me a Duck Dodgers Pop Funko, and a kickass book of Grimm fairy tales I've been wanting. Plus he made me another wonderful card like he does every year.
I got a cool witches oven with a cauldron and such. It's kind of amazing.
Plus: chocolates, cookies, flowers, some great cards, a hat, and I'm told--a big scary head to put on display. So yeah, I gots the hookup for sure.

As much as it's fun to hang out in a different place, it's also good to be home.
My own bed, bathroom, cats, and kitchen are always more comfortable--even if we live in a total shitbox. Why? Because it's OUR shitbox.

In other news, we had a death in the family. Uncle Tom (not technically MY Uncle, but the Uncle of my cousins on my godmother's side) was a cool guy. We thought he was a ton of fun, until someone explained to us that he had a drinking problem because of the war--and that the stuff he did wasn't funny. I disagreed then, and still kinda do. No, alcoholism isn't funny. But Uncles at family BBQ's are. He was a nice guy, jovial and bitter in a way that incorporated a lot of humor. He also had a glass eye that he once removed and rolled down a picnic table. How can that possibly be described as anything but hilarious? I don't know. Godspeed, Uncle Tom. The world is less funny, and a little less kind without you in it.

I sort of forgot that I was doing the NaNoWriMo this year. My head exploded after the election and never quite got put back together. Ah well. As flemco loves to point out, I can write whenever the hell I want.

H's work schedule is terrible right now. They switched him to 5 days a week (used to be 4 10-hour days, now it's 5 8-hour days) which means more travel time and expense and less time for us to watch TV and do stuff together. Do we really think people will avoid posting spoilers for Gotham, Supergirl, Agents of SHIELD, or Z-Nation? I don't. But one of his coworkers accidentally killed someone (driving like a maniac, I'm told) and now has to go to prison. The world is a crazy place, kids.

Like most of us, I don't normally answer my phone when I don't recognize the number. But when it rang around 6:45 this evening, I figured it was either a telemarketer I could mess with, or an amusing wrong number. In fact, it was H's Aunt Sherry, who I don't think I'd ever talked to before.

H's grandmother, a lovely woman named Virginia (also a family name in my own family of origin) had died on Valentine's Day. We hadn't heard from her in a few months, and H was afraid to phone because he kind of expected that this was the reason. Yes, I could have phoned as well. I didn't.

I've blogged about H's grandmother before because she was such an awesome lady. Her husband had a stroke a year or so before he died, and she cared for him full time. They'd been together for over 60 years, which boggles the mind. When he died, she never really got over the sadness of it. Her heart had broken. I imagine that's exactly how I'll feel if I'm unfortunate enough to outlive H. It def speaks to my own selfishness how much I DON'T want to outlive my husband.

I didn't realize, until Aunt Sherry told me, that H and I really were in her thoughts often. She showed off all the gifts and cards we sent her over the years, and displayed our photo prominently in her home. When she went into the hospital and then to hospice, she took our photo with her (and the other grandkids) so she could look at us whenever she wanted. Even when she couldn't keep food down, she asked the nurses to apply the lip balms we sent her for Christmas. She had told me once how amazing it was that I knew how to make them. They're embarrassingly easy. I didn't realize this, but a lot of H's family think I'm a great wife and a wonderful influence on him--and that it's great of me to keep in touch with the family on his behalf.

As many of you know, H's mom and I don't see squarely on many issues. So it's nice to know that there are people in his family that are in favor of our relationship. I mean seriously, we've been together over 15 years. Get over it! H's mom is more bossy than warm, and has been married three times that I know of. I often wondered how H managed to be so kind and loving, fair and patient growing up with his mom. Upon reflection, it was clearly Virginia and her husband Fred who modeled for H what a loving and successful marriage look like. I suppose that means that I owe her a great debt.

It's my job to help come up with something for the inscription at the memorial where the ashes of Fred and Virginia will be interred together. I've got a 26 character limit including spaces. We'll see.

Aunt Sherry told me the greatest thing though. Apparently Virginia wanted to be at home among family at the end. But what she actually said was "I don't wanna go out like a punk," which meant she'd go out on her own terms. And she did.
That is just fucking beautiful.

I finally, at long last, have my proper medication in hand after being more than two weeks without it. As of last night though, my psyche was pretty much broken. I was within a breath of telling H to "shut the fuck up and stay away from me," which is simply not how we speak to each other. But my brain was broken.

In weirdness news, I learned that there's a way to report people who steal your Tweets. One wouldn't think stealing Tweets would be a thing, since there's a simple button that lets you retweet. But for a few months now, there's a chick who's been copy/pasting my tweets, putting her initials in front--basically posting Tweets that look like she's telling me something I just said. But on her feed it looks like it's her own content. Why would anyone do this, aside from general fuckery? I do not know.
So today, after this person stole and copy/pasted my tweet about (of all things) reporting stolen tweets, I told her that I reported her. She responded as if she had no idea it was unethical to copy/paste other people's Tweets. She seemed to think that because she tagged me in "her" Tweets, that she was giving me credit.

I had to SMH and laugh, because I have a book client right now who I've literally spent hours with, trying to explain Twitter. But they still don't understand it. I realize that all social media sites have their own idiosyncratic elements that have a learning curve. But really?

Blue Cross Blue Shield can fuck right off, BTW. They decided to stop covering something I need. So instead of it costing $5 a month, the new "uninsured" price is $235 a month. Needless to say, that means I won't be getting it. I can almost understand why they wouldn't cover it. But I cannot understand how concentrated hydrocortisone could possibly cost that much. Fucking pharma-bros, all of them! I'm told that in other parts of the world, it's illegal to make a profit on medical supplies. Seems like common sense, right? Another way the US of A is teh oligarchy. Maybe everyone should shut the fuck up and stay away from me, at least until I feel more like my usual charming self.

I gave H a Kindle Fire for Christmas. Its low price allowed this to be the first time in 15 years together that I've bought H any electronics. However, I didn't keep the secret very well. Five minutes after he opened it he went into his office and returned with a case.
Me: "Oh, it came with a case? That's awesome, I didn't realize..."
Him: "No, it didn't."
Me: "But that's a case right there."
Him: "I know. I wanted to make sure it was protected."
Me: ...

I also gave H a ton of candy from the vintage candy store. Funny, because the candy is new and old all at once. Most of it is either sour or hot. He also got an Agents of SHIELD pin, which is awesome, and a Matchbox batmobile, because I was in a mood to buy people batmobiles this year. No reason.
JoJo got a new cat bed that's shaped like a shark, and a heating pad for the inside. Pentelope is too cranky to celebrate Xmas, but she did get some tuna treats that look like tiny steaks.

What did *I* get?
Well, first H and I both got a new vacuum. It's a Dirt Devil that promises to stand up to the hair-nanza that is our cats.
H's mom got us a humidifier, which I'm pretty sure is a passive-aggressive gift. After not acknowledging my birthday last month, she got us something she knew I would hate. I told her at our wedding (before she walked out in a huff before the ceremony) how much I hate humidity. Ah well...

H got me some movies:
Deep Red (Profundo Rosso)--a fave of mine that I lost years ago in a tragic loaning mishap.
Jane Eyre (the one with Mia W. And Michael Fassbender). My 3rd version of Jane Eyre on DVD. Sweet!
The Strangler (starring the great Victor Buono)

He also got me some fancy food:
Salt and Vinegar kettle chips
old fashioned shortbreads from Zingerman's
Zingerman's "magic" brownie (but not 420-magic)
marcona almonds (hilarious, because of the Specific Store on Family Guy)
And a deck of Harry Potter playing cards (or minor arcana tarot, if you prefer).

I'm told that one of my gifts will be late. Not sure what's up with that.
We also got an impressive haul of cards, but no cookies.
That's right, not a single person sent us homemade holiday cookies, and I didn't bake any. Oops. And here my doctor has been begging me to work more cookies into my diet. Not.

Okay, time to make pancakes and sausages.

What did I get for my birthday? I knew you were dying to know.

H got me four new Pop Funko figures: Jason Vorhees (#1 in the hockey mask), Pennywise the Clown, and two from The Walking Dead: Little girl with the plushie, and The Governor. Nice!!! He also took the bus to get us Five Guys Burgers and Fries. I love that place.

H's sister got me a Game of Thrones coloring book, and my Aunt sent me a lovely card. So that's all awesome. Tomorrow is my party, which will include fantastic company, yummy food, and conversation that will tear your soul apart...or something. H is gonna take tons of pics, I hope. He has to take them because he doesn't want to be in them.

H's mom did not acknowledge my birthday. If I didn't know better, I'd swear she was MY mom. Ha!

There have been two terrible shootings since the last time I blogged. #BlackLivesMatter protestors were shot at a rally by...well, we know who they were shot by. Funny, I didn't hear anyone lamenting that those protestors didn't have weapons, lest they defend themselves from the racist asshats who shot them.
And today at Planned Parenthood. Without knowing who the shooter is or why this happened, I'm prepared to make the standard presumptions: some fake Christian who wants to protect fetuses while voting away any programs that might help actual children. I'll predict that his weapon(s) were bought legally, and that the media will focus on mental illness and extremism as root causes. Because heaven forfend we talk about how easy it is for violent nutters to get guns.

No word on how many people croaked during Black Friday shopping. I'm sure we'll find out tomorrow when the YouTubes of in-store fisticuffs start showing up.

And finally, I won the #NaNoWriMo. Because I am awesome.

I quit ArticleCats this week. Nice people there, but I've had 4 editors in the last 8 months because they all either quit or get fired. Lamesauce. Plus, my assignments there were boring, and the pay was too low.
Got offered another geekwriting gig. But again, not enough money for the work they're asking me to do.

It's not that I'm unwilling to write geekery for a low base wage. I am. But I only have so many hours a week to devote to stuff I don't make a decent wage from. Three reviews a week for peanuts is quite enough.

The new business venture H and I are doing is working out well. I've helped a handful of authors with getting their books formatted and ready for publishing. H is awesome at graphic design. So now we're hiring ourselves out as a full-service team for people trying to self publish. We edit, do layout and formatting, design covers and internal graphics, and offer marketing consultation. Our hourly rate is competitive--lower than many other places that do the same thing--yet still a wage that makes us happy. So that's been great.

If you haven't checked out http://thehorrorwithin.com/, you should totally do so. We've got tons of great content up including great FREE fiction, an array of incredible art, reviews for movies, books, and TV, plus a lot of extra horror features. I'm thrilled with how well our staff has risen to the occasion, and with how great everything is going. I'd love to see more fiction subs. And I'd love for more authors to contact us about hyping their horror books.

Here's some fun news: I'm doing the NaNoWriMo this year. I haven't done it seriously since the aughts, so it's totally time. I have enough free time (is there really such a thing as "free time"?) these days, and a story that needs working on. So I'm prepping that now. Wish me luck! Um, unless you hate the NaNo, then don't.

Finally watching the Democratic debate. What strikes me the most after watching the GOP debate is that *this* is a stage full of politicians debating issues. It's fucking tragic to think that the most impressive feat of the Democrats might have done thus far is to not descend into a sea of prideful ignorance and playground insults. Even if Trump wasn't running, the GOP would still be a total shitshow. I'm still feeling the Bern, but everybody except Webb was fairly impressive.

I was fully prepared to write about Kim Davis here today. But my Kim Davis stance turned out to be interesting enough that I'm selling it to one of the sites I write for. That means you'll see it soon enough, just not here.

Besides, I realized that this second week of September marks the 20 year anniversary of the last time I spoke to my mother--outside of the screamed conversations that happen when I'm alone. Ha! No, really...

I'm not going to go into what caused the estrangement. Anybody who doesn't know but would like to is welcome to peruse my "family" or "wednes past" tags to catch up with me talking about mumsy and her whole deal. No, I didn't ever call her "mumsy," I just think that's a hilarious way to refer to a mom who wasn't especially motherly. For a beautifully exaggerated and somewhat fictionalized version of life with mumsy, you can always read my self-indulgeant debut novel, A Stabbing for Sadie. When people ask me if I'm Sadie, I like to look shocked while shaking my head and proclaiming that such would be impossible...because Sadie is fat. Hahahahahahaha!

My mom is a big TV watcher. We grew up knowing that TV was the only activity our family could engage in together without screaming or violence. By not talking to her for 20 years--we never got to discuss huge TV events like LOST, Game of Thrones, or even The Sopranos. I bet she likes them. I have no idea if she's seen the Harry Potter movies (she doesn't read, or didn't when I knew her), though I imagine she's all over that Christian Grey shit. Ew. When we last talked, LA Law, Animaniacs, Romper Room, Star Trek Next Gen, and the Arsenio Hall Show were still on the air.
I know, right?

I've changed mightily as a person since last speaking to Mater. It's amazing how much one can grow and develop when no one is hitting them, screaming how ugly, fat and stupid they are, or just generally not having someone figuratively step on your neck every time you try to speak or move. Even if I'm never as kind, considerate, or accepting as I'd like to be--I can take solace in the fact that I'll never EVER be the frightened, duplicitous, lasher-outer that passed for a mother where I grew up.
It makes me happy to hang out with kids and see that I don't have the urge to smack them, even if they're little assholes. For people who grew up thinking smacking people was normal, this is kind of a big deal.

Of course, I have almost no memory of ever speaking to my biological father. I grew up with a stepdad, only I was NEVER supposed to refer to him that way. My mom was hysterical when she thought someone was lying to her--but that was nothing compared to what she would do if someone told one of her truths.

I live a life rich in anxiety, which is not a surprise to anyone who knows me. My main way of dealing with anxiety is to stay the hell at home and not go out into the big, scary world unless I have to. So if you've seen me socially outside my home--that means that I probably love the hell out of you. It also means that if I've inexplicably dashed away from a planned gathering, that it has nothing to do with you.

Anxiety. One of the things I'm most anxious about is that something bad will happen to H. He walks a long way to take the bus to work, and has been hassled by cops as to why he is out at night, where he's going, etc. I used to stand outside the video store where I worked waiting for cabs for upwards of an hour without incident--but when H was waiting with me we'd be questioned regularly. We were even pulled over in a cab once.

So, I occasionally call H at work, just to say Hey and to quell my anxiety. I'm aware that this is lame, and could be perceived as needy and controlling. H is cool with it.

Last week, I called H after waking up from a dream that he was shot in a robbery at his work. Not out of the question--especially since he's there alone during the overnight shift. So yeah, I called just to make myself feel better. The phone rang and rang, but he didn't answer. Doing my best to stay calm, I waited three minutes and then called back. Again, no answer.

I wanted to call the cops, explain the situation (leaving out the dream and some of my own ridiculousness) and just ask them to check in and make sure everything was okay. But I didn't.
See, H is a black guy who stands over 6 feet tall. Statistically, this is the scariest type of person in America. I then envisioned multiple circumstances by which H could be "accidentally" shot by "helpful" cops who thought he was robbing the place. This week, we learned that some cops think it's okay to beat the shit out of people for being "arrogant," or not properly kissing the asses of cops as they hassle us. If anything bad happened to H because I asked the cops for help, I couldn't live with myself. Seriously. I'd have to be hospitalized to prevent my own suicide after something like that. No lie.

It occurs to me how incredibly fucked up it is that I should be afraid to call the cops, because it seems that being helped and being killed or beaten are roughly equally likely in some circumstances. People like to pretend that the cops only kill people who are criminals, or who are threatening their lives. But we know better now. The proliferation of cameras on phones, on dashes, or in businesses have clearly proven that you can be standing around near a slice of pizza, making a minor traffic error, or just walking down the street and be murdered for the crime of looking scary, making someone uncomfortable, or standing up for your own dignity.

Nutzo police are not the norm in Ann Arbor. But they did murder a mentally ill woman last summer when a relative called the cops to help calm her down. Apparently 2 (or 3, I forget now) grown men couldn't take down a mentally ill woman with a kitchen knife in any other way except shooting her in the head. So yeah, why take chances?

No point to this story, I guess.
H was actually vacuuming the floor and didn't hear the phone ring.
He was fine...probably because I didn't call the cops for help after all.

Within a year of meeting H, (summer of 1999) I started referring to him as "Baboo" because of how Sally Brown calls Linus Van Pelt her "sweet Baboo." I read Peanuts cartoons voraciously as a kid, and had a zillion books of them. So this made perfect sense to me.
Eventually, Baboo was shortened to simply Boo.

I notice now, that "Boo" is a very common thing to call one's significant other, particularly (but certainly not exclusively) among African Americans. I hear it on Key & Peele last season, and then on Criminal Minds this past week.

My question is, is everyone doing it because of Sally and Linus? Is there another reference for this that I don't know?

Regardless, I have to give H a new nickname.
For no reason whatsoever, I've started calling him "Spaghetti."

Have you heard? Racism is over! Hurrah!
I heard a while back that there was no more racism, because they changed the voting laws to make it easier to pass racist (anti)voting laws...which of course no one would pass, because there's no more racism.
Except...within hours of hearing that racism was over, a bunch of racists passed a bunch of racist bills to prove how unracist they are now that there's no more racism. Get it?

In my home state of Michigan, we learned recently that no matter what happens in the rest of the country, Michigan is racism free. That's why Affirmative Action is no longer needed at U of M, which must mean that college admissions are more or less evenly split among the races, or directly proportional to the racial makeup of the applicants. Wait, what? They aren't? Gosh...who could have ever foreseen that?
Except, you know, everyone.

I admit freely that I'm not 100% on Affirmative Action. I'm not sure counting and quotas is the best way to go about achieving social justice. Despite the douchebaggery of the speaker--I do think placing more focus on class than on race makes a lot of sense. Plenty of studies exist that show that the number 1 and 2 indicators of a child's educational success are the education of the mother, and poverty.
What is it about being underfed, getting poor nutrition, and having parents who are always tired, worried, stressed, or not home at all that keeps these kids from excelling in school? They must just be lazy, amirite? *eyeroll*

Moving on, The Internets are a great thing, because they get information to The People. Social networking has been a force for social change and even political upheaval. But see, the Internets also give a voice to the most hateful sort of paranoid dickbags. Sure, free speech means avoid the comments at all costs. It means that Nazi sympathizers, holocaust deniers, pedophiles, and Glade-huffers can find kindred spirits and know they aren't alone. Free speech means everybody gets to talk, even if ultimately we have to scour every news story for hints of satire--because gag news looks and sounds so much like the preposterous REAL news that it's hard to tell them apart. Hunger strikes against gay marriage, pro-slavery cattle ranchers, and anti-black-guy basketball profiteers sound like they should be made up.
They aren't.

So...we've got an internet where anyone can say anything, and any opinion no matter how destructive or horrible can be found and read by anyone who wants to find it. No type of legal consequences for willfully spreading lies, even with the express intent to cause anger, injury, whatevs. Amid all of that, we have the impending demise of Net Neutrality. I maintain that Net Neutrality is about a lot more than who'll get the fastest Netflix streaming.

Notice how the same half-dozen people own almost all the newspapers and TV networks? How long before those same assholes are controlling the entire internet? Cutting access to sites that check facts, point out lies, or present alternate points of view? What if FOX "news" loaded in seconds but CNN (or maybe a good news network) took 3 minutes. What if we had to pay extra to get BBC news or anything outside the US?

We like to pretend we're so awesome with our technology and our freedom. We aren't. Our crushing economy is well, crushing us. Many people are using all their energy just to keep their families fed and housed while others are amassing insane amounts of wealth on our backs.
I think it's awesome that rich people tried to buy Mitt Romney an election and weren't able to. But how long is that gonna last? Our current oligarchy is far worse than if we had elected a true despot. Even Kim Jong Un doesn't want his entire country to be 99% slaves to industries who continually fight for the right to not pay a living wage.

This Conservative Cabal is clearly plotting to slowly remove the laws that protect the weak and disenfranchised. They're doing their damndest to cut education and welfare so kids will grow up sick and stupid. They abhor family planning, and while they say they don't approve of working moms--they've cleverly arranged an economy where it's damn difficult to raise kids on a single salary--and it often means going without owning a home. The Conservative Cabal fights for the right to pay paltry wages while raking in billions in profits, all the while pretending that they hire workers based on what they can afford--rather than on what they need. Then they get angry and accusatory when someone is smart or brave, or fed-up enough to call them out on it.

*sigh*
Girl-H's (H's sister) food stamps were taken away this week. Budget cuts. She works part-time, but can't be on her feet for more than a few minutes due to an injury she can no longer afford to treat or medicate. Her ACA application was "lost" so she had no healthcare at present. We found all that out last night. I was saving up to take H to see Godzilla but now it looks like we're going to send that money to her so she can eat. Because 'Murica & Freedumz.

Dude, Where's my Car? is a cheap homage to American Grafitti.

House of 1,000 Corpses is a better remake of Texas Chainsaw Massacre than the actual remake of Texas Chainsaw Massacre.

Most horror remakes are shitty.  A few are great:
Dawn of the Dead
The Fly
The Hills Have Eyes
13 Ghosts
Red Dragon (original title: Manhunter)

Some are pretty good
The Hitcher
Psycho
Salem's Lot
Halloween
Last House on the Left
Night of the Living Dead (Savini)

I wouldn't say these are definitive list, but those are the ones that come to mind.  I also really need to have a lot more Pixar movies.  As I was thinking that, Disney sent me a thing to join their movie club.  H doesn't have a copy of Avengers, which he totally should.  I need a copy of Up, and would like to have Monsters Inc and Wreck it Ralph.

Found out tonight that the head writer from The Daily Show has left to work on John Oliver's new show.  This bodes well for Oliver, and HBO, and us viewers.  I imagine TDS writing staff is solid enough that this won't be an issue that makes it all the way to us.  

H and I celebrate Christmas the old fashioned way:
We buy each other stuff we wouldn't normally buy.

I got H:
A spinny top that works with a string
chinese finger trap
Star Trek Next Gen Pez dispenser box set
Alien T-shirt
Tee fury T-shirt with every Doctor on it.
Onion hardback front page collection
2 pr satin boxer shorts

He got me:
Doctor River Song sonic screwdriver
box of dark chocolate hazelnut truffles
hazelnut milk
Whole Foods hazelnut coffee creamer
smoked hazelnut gelato (outrageous!)
organic choco hazelnut spread (that is NOT nutella)
ventresca tuna
2 packs of Nathans hot dogs because we love them and only one store in the area actually sells them. Woot!

So yeah, that was nice.
Most of our peeps got cards and homemade lip balms.
Always well received and appreciated, so far.

We also got a big tin of cookies and a pumpkin bread from my Aunt, and another bag of yummy treats from my old college pal who visited today.

We also watched Doctor Who, which I haven't reviewed yet but will.

I didn't make it to mass at St Francis last week despite my best efforts. Snow and cabs thwarted me. This week, I shall time call! (for non-cab people, this means scheduling the cab the night before)

I decided to take it really easy on myself this holiday season. We're not having anyone over for New Years Eve, first of all. So that's a LOT of cooking I won't have to do. I'm also not baking anything, except for H's birthday. Even with very little family in the area, there seems to be such a glut of cookies, fudge, and other holiday sweets that giving them out starts to seem like a cumbersome imposition.
In contrast, my Wednes-made lip balms have been turning out well and are pretty popular. Most of them can be sent with cards in padded mailers (H always makes us an awesome card). And nobody has to lay any diet-shaming talk on me about how "naughty" they'll feel when they eat cookies--because unless you're a disturbed youngster, you don't eat lip balm.

Aside from H and my goddaughter, I'm also not buying many presents. I get a little splashy with birthday gifts, but Xmas is just too huge and spendy to be getting pressies for everyone. That said, I did buy my goddaughter a Furby. I got an awesome Black Friday (why you gotta bring race into it?!?) deal on it, and I know she really wanted it. Honestly, I wouldn't mind a play robot myself, but I'm certainly not spending that kind of money on a toy for me.

Computer is worse than ever. In addition to having a broken click-bar, I'm looking at 12+ minutes to open Photoshop, and sometimes 10 minutes just for MS Word. Bearing in mind that I have to run INDesign including conversions, it's very frustrating. If I leave it unplugged, it will shut down itself at 20% power and without a warning. Gah! Mostly, I want to replace this computer before it shuts down completely and I can't get my stuff off it. I only have so many tiny flash drives, and most of them will not hold the magazine archive. *sigh* The down side to working at home and online is that if anything happens to my computer, I'm pretty much boned.

In better news, you can now Subscribe to Under the Bed magazine at Amazon. B&N is still taking a stupid long time to get the new issues up, but you can buy single issues from them. The best place to get single issues though, is at the FicMag website.

Found out today that there's a short film adaptation of Abed which is a short story I first read in Skipp and Spector's Book(s) of the Dead which I was just talking about on Facebook as being particularly influential to me. This particular story is now sold singly, with the same publisher as me, in fact. I'll be receiving a review copy soon, so that's fly. ZZN is starting to get active again. I'm throwing up my thoughts on Walking Dead this weekend if I have time. Mostly though, I'll be editing stories for the Feb issue and laying out the Jan issue once H gets the graphics to me.

Even if you've never seen an ep of Dexter in your life, you've probably heard people bitching about the finale online. See, any show that's been on TV for longer than one season will have haters after the finale--no exception. If I liked the finale, the haters can shut up. If I didn't like it--well, they can have at it. ;-] (I liked LOST and Sopranos, but was furious with BSG, for example)

Despite the formulaic season structure on Dexter, and despite the fact that we went through this season surrounded by pivotal characters we barely knew--I thought the finale was beautiful and tragic. I liked it very much.

That said, Dexter pales in comparison to other things on TV...now. I don't know what genius at Showtime decided to run the Dexter finale the week before the Breaking Bad finale, but that was a terrible choice. And it didn't just work out that way--it was planned. Dexter was moved ahead over a month from when it normally airs, so I don't get that at all. Speaking of Breaking Bad. Damn...this shit is getting really sad. Maybe crime doesn't pay?

With S1 Under the Dome behind us, I'm starting to review Hostages tonight. I hope I didn't choose wrong, because we watched the Sleepy Hollow premiere last week and it was pretty good. I don't even think GeekBinge is covering that, which is a drag.

Speaking of good, Boardwalk Empire has been kicking ass.

In Under the Bed news, the EiC and I made the choice to skip a month of the mag so we could have a regular release schedule. This is due to some weirdness at B&N and some other crap I didn't really want to worry about. So what was Undead September is now our October issue. November will be full of monsters. For December, I really want to put the Krampus on the cover. I'm hoping someone will come through with a drawing. *eyes you artists*

You can beat the rush on our awesome zombie issue by subscribing before it comes out. Here is where you'd do that. It's only $1.99 a month, or even less for a whole year--$19.99. Every month you get at least five awesome short stories along with features (*ahem* porcelain72), reviews, interviews, and my own snarky commentary. How can you resist, and why would you want to?

We have Wreck-it-Ralph on the DVR.
If H won't watch it with me, I'm going to punch him.
I wish I had a boxing glove. I'm not a very hard puncher.

My plan for yesterday was to get up, get a few hours of work done, then make dinner and hang out with H. We only get a few nights to hang out, so I look forward to them. Got up, got some work done. Suddenly, I felt like complete crap. Pain in my back and side, headache...I thought I might be having another kidney stone. That would be infuriating, since I gave up almonds, which I love.

A few minutes later, I got crazy chills. Like INSANE chills. I got into bed and put 2 blankets on myself. Still cold. H came in and doubled up the blankets. Still cold. He doubled up a comforter on me...so I had a doubled up blanket, a doubled up comforter, and a patch quilt on me. Still fucking cold. Luckily, H is a furnace, so he covered me with his mighty heat-releasing form. When it seems obvious that there would be no dinner and I wasn't getting out of bed, he turned on a DVD of Salem's Lot until I fell asleep.

Slept 4 hours. Woke up feeling better. Still not feeling tip top, and have no idea what that was all about. I do know that I've been incredibly stressed lately between work and my own fiction and now the magazine. I imagine my immune system is run down. It doesn't seem like a kidney stone now, nor does it seem like my ulcer is back. I kicked that ulcer's ass when I left my old day-job.

Now, of course, I can't sleep. This means I almost certainly won't be up in time to make H last night's dinner before he goes to sleep for work (about 2pm). Fie! He really wants it too, because it's mexican meat pie with polenta crust.

I like to take walks at this time of day (6am). I took one this morning after an oddly timed nap (less than half a brownie was WAY too much, apparently). There weren't many people around except random dog walkers. I chatted with one this morning, nice guy. Nobody I'd talked to before. Then this happened:

*chat, chat, chat*

They: "Are you married?"

Me: Yes

They: "How long?"

Me: *tells him*

They: "You guys have kids?"

Me: Nope, just some cats.

They: "That's good."

Me: ... I'm sorry?

They: "I don't wanna talk out of turn, but you shouldn't be having babies with a guy who's...like that."

Me: Like what?

They: "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, it's none of my business. You have a good day now." *walks away with dog*

Me: *thinking* WTF, seriously? If I knew the guy or knew he knew who H was, I'd assume he was racist. But I didn't know what the hell to think.

I came home and was pretty pissed off. I went into the bathroom to splash some water on me, and see that while I was napping, my recently touched up blue hair left a bit of a smear on my cheek and to the left of my eye. In low light, it looked like someone beat the crap out of my face.

So in reality, my neighbor was trying to be a nice guy. In retrospect, it would not have been ridiculous for him to have reacted even more strongly. I want to correct this impression of my wonderful husband, but I didn't even ask the guy his name--so I have no idea who he is. He's the guy with some kind of doberman mix on the other side of the complex.

Sorry, neighborman. You're alright by me!
I promise, NOBODY smacks me around.

Xmas came and went. We talked to relatives on the phone and/or online, exchanged gifts and had a friend over for breakfast-dinner. Pancakes, sausage, and a nice frittata. I don't get to make frittatas much because H doesn't like eggs.

H got me the Marauder's Map and the cool frame for it that opens up. It's whomping huge when you unfold it. I got him a bunch of books and T-shirts and miscellany. He also got me three different kinds of bacon from Zingerman's. Tonight we had the back bacon cut into hunks and tossed with whole wheat pasta--so we can pretend it was a healthy meal. Ha.

The various balms I gave away as gifts this year were well received. I'll very likely do this again. I thought I might do a bunch of Zom*balms if I ever have a book release party. No idea whether or not that's on the horizon.

Still feeling unmotivated and sad about writer things. I just don't have the marketing budget to punch through the wailing cacaphony of shitty writers out there. It pisses me off that one of my (very, VERY few) reviews says that The Finster Effect had "a lot of typos." It doesn't. As far as I can tell, it has one. And that wasn't actually a typo, it was an editing error. I don't know why I care--except that I'm tired of no one knowing who the hell I am. Plus, I have no idea how to set up a marketing plan and budget, because I have no idea what's going on with any of my work. Come to think of it, I'm only assuming my book sales are low. I haven't actually heard one way or the other.

The only thing I'm sure about is that not letting that other creep cut out the animal chapters was a good idea.

I was angry and sad all day, so I didn't get any work done. That means I'll probably be up until noon trying to work. Fie. I really hope I don't end up writing advertising for the rest of my life.

Been working my ass off as of late, yet my ass has inexplicably remained the same size. Just as well, I'd hate to have to buy all new pants.

Bills are getting paid. My CPAP will be paid off by February--sooner if this marketing company keeps throwing extra work my way. The TV reviews are still small income generators. Mostly they are fun, and let me write off the cable and internet bills. Yay!

Tax time is coming. Can't wait to hear all the internet banter about the bullshit Fiscal Cliff the GOP manufactured. This is another of those areas in which I'm baffled as to what they think they're doing.
It should be clear as a bell to anyone with eyes that those giant tax breaks for rich people are NOT creating jobs. If they were, there would be tons of jobs right now. The reason so many businesses aren't hiring is that they don't NEED new employees. The middle class is low on cash so nobody is buying anything. If people actually had disposable income, they could buy shit, businesses could hire. Tax revenues would go up, and the need for welfare would go down. I'm not an economic genius or anything--but this plan of giving the rich giant meals in the hopes that crumbs will fall to the poor--it's asinine and only a fool would believe it. And to the mooks who say no one will try if they have to pay taxes--well THOSE are the moochers you're always bitching about. If you're only trying, creating, doing, building etc because you hope it will make you rich--fuck you. You probably don't have anything remarkable inside you anyway. The pursuit of vast wealth is insipid and displays a complete lack of understanding about the very nature of life and humanity.

I love Patricia Walden's Iyengar Yoga vids. LOVE.

H and I went to my cousin's wedding last Saturday. My mom didn't attend because I was there. Classy lassy, that one! (not) The family was warm and welcoming. In the years I was away, all the kids turned into adults, and all the adults turned into old people. Uncle *name-redacted* did not get drunk and roll his glass eye across the table like he did when I was little. Drag. Aunt *redacted again* and her partner finally started introducing each other as their "partner." Even as a teenager I didn't think any grown-ups actually had the same roommate for that long. A good rule of thumb is that if two same-sex people get a new place together more than twice--they're almost certainly a couple. Another good way to find out is to ask. ;-]
It was a good wedding. I was glad I went. They were glad to have me there. H is a delight in social situations. So Yay on that!

Had an online exchange with my younger cousin who also has no name. She posted "My friend OD'd on pot--said no one ever." ( Cut for Pot Talk )

Today is looking over the new Stig and the Puppetman I finished last night. Then four marketing articles. Then, trying a new recipe for lip balm that I hope will not result in a bunch of wasted garbage. Cocoa peppermint again.
Later, I'm gonna do coconut lime lip balm, and some 1oz containers of chest rub--like for colds. Neat, eh?

Time for my yearly Thanksgiving post.
Lucky you!

I am thankful to be doing the writer thing for reals. I write for my living, and I write books. I have a little side income from fun writing like interviews and TV reviews. I'm making comics and editing my own book trailer together. Once I have 120 pages or so of Stig and the Puppetman Imma totally get that shit published as its own book.
It's amazing to me that I have second editions coming out. I'm blown away by the fact that I'm making actual money from books I've written. It still seems more like an impossible fantasy than something I have to get done before the end of the month. If that makes any sense.

I am thankful to have family in my life, which is not something I'm known for saying. Years of reconciling the "loss" of a family made me forget how really awesome some of those people are. I got a cool sparkly pink card from my favorite aunt (who is also my godmother). You have to remember someone's birthday at least a week in advance, and then go get them a card, find a goddamn stamp...it's a whole friggin' ordeal to get a card to someone a few days before a birthday.
Plus, you know, I've got that brother I think is pretty cool. Not sure if he's coming to the par tay on Saturday, but I hope so. Looks to be a fun crowd this year. Glad to be keeping the menu simple--but yummy. Prepare for toom, peeps! (no, I don't mean toom-flavored peeps, because that would be nightmarish)
I also got a birthday card from my insurance agent, and my alma mater. My alma mater seems to think I can afford to do a lot more donating than I'm actually doing.

As usual, what I'm most thankful for is H.
My husband is my perfect match.
So yeah, I've got the kind of life that blows my mind with goodness.
Speaking of blowing my mind with goodness, I made this:

American Horror Story: Aslyum served it up last night. The link is me, telling GeekBinge all about it.

Having quit my day-job in July, I have now (mid October--uh, go me?) secured enough steady work that I don't actually need to look for more. I'm back to paying my share around here and getting those fucking medical bills off my back. Oddly enough, our deductible is actually going down next year. Thanks, Obamacare. It's still a bitch to come up with a few extra thousand dollars every year; but right now I'm just thankful that we're not getting crushed even harder than the previous year--which is what's been happening since oh, 2001 or so.

In addition for my writing and editing at ZZN, I'm also writing for GeekBinge (see above), and doing marketing writing for a company what shall remain nameless. Doing occasional mystery shops so I can get free stuff and have a reason to step outside on occasion. Recently secured a gig with a sexy-times site called Kinkly. My first article for them will go up soon. H finally relented on letting me use my real name since I'm not talking about anything from the POV of personal experience. Apparently, the fact that we have an awesome sex life is supposed to be some kind of giant secret. So if you see H, pretend you know nothing...
Actually, if you *do* see him, wish him a Happy Anniversary, because it's tomorrow. Though we've been together since 1999, we've only been married since 2007.

Still fighting this same chest cold I've had for a friggin' month. Good thing, as bleaching out the entirety of the CPAP every night grows tedious.

I predict that Obama will win the election.
I don't think even Americans en masse are stupid enough to fall for Romney and his bullshit.

I was going to refer to these as "Bullet Points," but then I remembered that we're toning down the violent rhetoric.

--TV writing is behind schedule.

--Writing for TV is awesome.

--If I was a mystery shopper, I wouldn't be able to tell you about it.

--Enjoyed free bacon today.

--Copy of "Spiders" Anthology arrived this afternoon. Neat.

--Have had chest cold for 9 days now.

--Chest colds are horrible.

--Marketing writing continues unabated.

--Gonna watch a shitty action movie with H tonight.

--Either Battle Los Angeles, or Cowboys Versus Aliens
EDIT: We actually watched The Thing prequel.
Aside from some silly CGI, it was pretty good.

--Red Meat for dinner. Red meat makes me happy.

--NaNoWriMo soon.

--Sadie 2nd Edition editing is slow going.

--I used to say that the prez at my former day-job looked a lot like Anderson Cooper. But that was before I knew who Paul Ryan was.

--I'm kind of surprised that Warren Buffet or someone like that hasn't stepped up to cover PBS in the federal budget. Why isn't there a group of rich liberals doing this?

--Stig and the Puppetman is so much fun. I'm seriously going to do enough of these for a book. Seriously, I am.

Uverse on Demand requires a bit of buffering. Who knew?

It was pretty good. Snappy writing, fun action scenes, Loki is a great villain and everyone was well developed, I thought.

The Hulk, though. There was some rather rampant inconsistency in terms of how much control he had over his Hulkiness. They led us to believe it was none, but then it was some, then it was a bunch. But why? And why did no one discuss it at all?

Jeremy Renner. Damn. Wow. Damn and wow. I loved him in the Jeffery Dahmer movie (which I merely liked), but this was amazing. He had such a strong screen presence. His physicality screamed ICON. Why didn't he get his own movie? Seriously. Give me it!

This week I'm finishing up edits to Kiss Me Like You Love Me so I can re-release it early next year.

I gotta put some more blue in my hair tomorrow so I look super awesome for the big show this weekend. These dudes are playing on Saturday for the first time in 15 years. My buddy Finster is flying out from California so I don't have to dance by myself. It's gonna be way far insane and awesome. H is even going, he got the night off work. I know, right?

Working on the next Stig and the Puppetman comic about the two mismatched roommates who are also serial killers. Yay! It's fun making comics, and I really enjoy how they're coming out. So good on that.

Got approved for another job. Another one of these gigs where I have no idea whatsoever how much work there will be or when it will come in. Drag.
The steady stuff is groovy, but I wish there was more of it.

H wanted to watch Flash Gordon today while we were eating our pancakes.
We decided that Flash really could use a Hollywood facelift.
As such, we've decided on a cast:

Flash: Chris Hemsworth (because it's Hollywood)

Ming the Merciless: Patrick Stewart

Aura: Zoe Soldana

Zoltan: Dwayne "The Rock" Johnson

Klytus: Ian Glen (Sir Jorah from Game of Thrones)

Dale Arden: Ellen Page

Hans Zarkoff: Robin Williams

Prince Baron: Bradley Cooper

General Calla: Angelina Jolie

*makes grabby hand motion*
Funding Please!

While I'm here, I did put up a new podcast ep today. Chaps 31 and 32 of Kiss Me Like You Love Me. It's a good 'un too. The new Mikey is creepy as shit!

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