THE BEST WORST DAY…or WORST BEST DAY?

Wednesday was the best worst, or worst best, day.

The good part happened first. On Tuesday I received a message on my home phone (why I keep the cable/internet/PHONE “on” while in this crap-zone . It’s speedy af but necessary.) from Carolina Amputee and Orthotics – the place where my legs live. So, I call back after lunch…annd she’s — you guessed it — gone to lunch…

As we likely all know, I have telephone anxiety. I’m pretty much ok AFTER I’m talking, but MAKING that call? Torture. So I call “Sherry” back Wednesday. She’s nice, but more importantly, she’s COMPETENT. She is the one handling my insurance stuff at the leg place. Apparently she couldn’t make heads or tails of my paperwork or the claim denial, etc., so she did the smart thing and called Medicaid, explained everything, and asked THEM what THEY thought she should do to get the claim approved.

Genius!! Call the people who make the decisions and ask THEM what they want!!

LSS, they had her refile it, and by her best guesstimate, she MAY hear back from them “as soon as 7 to 10 business days”. Now I ain’t holding my breath…we all know how this shit goes — we’ve seen this movie before — but its nice to know someone else is on the case.

Light, however faint, at the end of the tunnel is still light, right??

So there I was, walking (rolling?) on sunshine, thrilled with the possible progress, thinking about going home to my cat and dog and recliner and my own bed, when about 3 hours later the proverbial rug was pulled out from under me.

Tosha, my friend who’s taking care of my furbabies and house while I’m wasting my life here, texted me. She walked into my house and found my cat dead.

That killed me. My poor Galen. I hadn’t even gotten to hold him since last June. My poor boy. I’m having a really hard time dealing with this loss.

I feel like he had given up on waiting for me, I mean, he had no reason to think I would ever be home again. As a friend said, he was yet another victim of the system.

It’s hard to explain or describe to people who don’t love animals the way I do, but I feel kind of numb inside, like I don’t have anything else to give. Galen was one of my two main reasons to hurry up and get back home and I can’t help but think that if I’d been there, he’d still be alive and fine. That thought stabs.

This is his grave site now. Tosha and her husband buried Galen for me. Ill never get to hold him or love on him again.

So, yeah the best worst or the worst best day indeed.

And OF COURSE that was NATURALLY the day my PayPal fundraiser expired. Of course.

I hate to put that link in a post like THIS, and I’m currently leaking heart break fluid from my eyes, but unfortunately needs must. I’m so fucking tired of being “the needy one”, of hurting, of missing my little furbabies.

But anyway, here’s the link. Anything you can send will be VERY MUCH appreciated.

That PayPal Link

Bah. I just want to go home and hide in my bed with my doggy and cry. 💔💔💔

Thank you for reading my tale of woe. Y’all really are the best readers and I can’t wait for life to even out so I can get back to it.

~Mer

RE: MY FICS – WAS GONNA DO A POLL

But I couldn’t figure out how to do one with the wonky layout WP has now.

So, write in the comments (*sigh* if the comment section is actually showing right then – if not, the just refresh until it magically appears…) WHAT STORY YOU WOULD LIKE ME TO WORK ON FIRST.

Yeah, you heard me.

I can PROMISE nothing, nothing at all, but I am definitely interested in finding out which of my WIPs y’all would most like my muse to visit if that FLB will agree to do so.

She hasn’t been around in quite some time what with death and amputations and brain fog and pandemics and personal losses and the fact that, yeah, she’s a flighty little bitch and I don’t blame her a bit... But I need something pleasant to concentrate on. No idea if it will do any good, but hell, nothing else is working.

Whu-whaa??

See, despite my best efforts and prayers and pleas to the universe, my life is going even further down into that damnable shitter – “money” has plummeted to the point that I’m not sure which bill I can pay this month and that gut-twisting panic is taking “mood” and “health” right along with it.

Talk about a hay ride from hell. DO. NOT. RECOMMEND.

Now that I know all too well how cold and cruel the world really is, I desperately need to force my attention elsewhere, especially while I still have power, to try to keep from focusing solely on what a pathetic waste my life is. Keep in mind that whichever fic “wins”, lol, will have to be reread with a fine-toothed comb (why did I make some of my plots so twisty??), so please don’t expect anything soon. Or at all…I know I’m worthless. (FREE ADVICE: DON’T HAVE BAD HEALTH AND BRAIN FOG IN AMERICA.)

And on a totally different and completely unrelated note, anybody got any Cliff’s Notes on my stories?? Inability to focus and concentrate have severely impacted my ability to even remember my plot weavings, much less keep them straight, and THAT RIGHT THERE is the main reason my writing has suffered.

So, if you still have a favorite WIP fic after All This Time (and OMG thank you if you do!!!), please let me know in the sometimes-appearing comments section which one it is, and if there are more than one, please list them in order.

And know that you guys are the best readers a writer could ever have. Yes, I admit it, I still go back and read y’all’s comments and reviews when my soul needs a little nudge. I also know that I’ve lost a lot of readers/followers over time because I’m no longer a productive member of the fanfom, and that’s totally understandable, but to those of you who have stuck by me, who have reached out and become genuine friends with me despite my failures and giganto boxes of whine, you badasses are the fucking BEST. You deserve literal gold for putting up with me and I heartfully appreciate every single one of you.

Ok, I’ll hush up now and wish y’all the best day. Hugs and obligatory PayPal link below as well as a hopefully-appearing comment box…if it decides to show…

~Mer

(This space intentionally left blank.)

PayPal Link with obligatory photo

v Obligatory Photo v

^ Obligatory Photo ^

HEY, HI, HELLO AND A GRUMPIN’ (at YT cooks) WE WILL GO!

Well happy July 1st, one and all.  This year seems to be slam-bang screaming by – can’t believe it’s July already. I think the year has left skid-marks on my head.

It has not been a good year for me but I hope you guys have found enough decent, solid meaning during this passing of time to make the rotations around our little yellow sun-ball worth the experience.

I hope you’ve found music that makes you cry and grin and dance and make war on the vile, that you’ve found rhythms that make the bad demons flee and the good ones cackle.

I hope you’ve found recipes old and new, fun and healthy and luscious, for foods you can afford that bring warmth to your belly and comfort to your soul.

I hope you’ve found books that lure you into their dark and glorious depths that leave you exhilarated and exhausted and are tossed immediately into your reread pile.

I hope you have people in your life who both steady and rock your foundations, that lift you up to the stars while reminding you to get your oil changed – people who snag your last piece of gum but you know you can call them at 4am to discuss the vagaries of life and they won’t mind a bit.

It’s more/less the “middle of the year” so it’s a great time to see and honor what you’ve got, what you need, what you want to shed, and what you have to do to run free.

I hope your plants are well, that your vehicles aren’t being pains in the collective ass, that your plumbing is flowing as it should and that your pillows are perfectly fluffy.

If not: Think; hope; plan; do.

You’ve got ’til December 31st to pull 2022 up by its fucking bootstraps/lapel/short’n’curlies if you need to. 

It may not be “my” year or “your” year or “her” year or “his” year but maybe, just maybe, it can still become OUR year. Maybe.

Remember, cussin’ is still free…(just ignore the overflowing NoNo Jar on the counter).

•~•0•~•

Annnnd now for my grumph at YouTube cooks…  My food budget is pathetic so I have to make do with what I can.  My mama, and to an extent my dad, raised me to be a pretty damn good cook, to experiment in the kitchen but while using common sense – the results may not taste that great if I’m trying something different but it’d still be very edible – and to always keep learning.

Herbs and spices and whatever the hell garlic – onions – shallots – etc are…are our friends, just as Worcestershire sauce and soy sauce and anchovies and anchovy paste are fantastic ingredients we can use to deepen the savories. They are all weapons in our cooking arsenal.

I have cook books aplenty…antique magazine recipes here and there…recipe cards that you can barely read they’ve been used so often…recipes I’m made so often that I remember every amount and step…and about 3 billion saved and bookmarked recipes and sites…

And then, there’s…YouTube.

YouTube cooks. 

Yeah.

Some are absolutely amazing, funny, have great (or at least pretty good – although there have been some where I’ve questioned their sanity) recipes and techniques they share along with funny stories and bad puns – I love “Chef John” with his “Food Wishes” channel, for example. 

And then there’s the crop of “Depression Era food cookin’ grannies (and a few gran’pas)” – srsly, there are several really old and not-as-old ladies on YT who either lived through the Depression themselves (they got into YT earlier on and some have sense passed on) or their parents lived through it and they remember how their parents cooked and did things.  Some have great stories, most have good-to-great recipes, but all of them have balls.

Then there’s the rest of the YT cooks.  The following applies to…them.  I give “the grannies” and obviously the newbie YT cooks a huge pass – hey, they’re trying, and quite often doing an amazing job of it – but the ones who try to come off as “experienced” or “semi-professional” or act like they’re “all that and a bag of So Niche You Can’t Find Them chips”?  Yeah, no.

And, so, here…my grumph:

9 Rules for YouTube Cooks:

1. WE KNOW HOW TO CHOP. You know how to chop. We know that you know how to chop. We do not need to see you chop, mince, slice, julienne, etc. the entire item or, especially, group of items. If we see you chop half a carrot or one potato to show us the size needed for the recipe, we do not need to see you chop the entire group of carrots or potatoes. We get it. You know how to use a knife and, yes, your hands are pretty. We don’t care. The same goes for peeling. IT IS OK TO FAST-FORWARD THROUGH REPETITIVE TASKS.
2. WE KNOW HOW TO FLIP FOOD IN A PAN. We do not need to see you flip every…single…item. The same goes for stirring. We know how to stir. We know you know how to stir. IT IS OK TO FAST-FORWARD THROUGH REPETITIVE TASKS.
3. WE DO NOT NEED TO SEE YOU ROLL OR SHAPE EVERY… SINGLE… BIT… OF… THE… FOOD. When you roll dough, flavored minced meat, vegetation, whatever, into a ball or other shape, the first two are enough. We get it. Please stop fondling the food. IT IS OK TO FAST-FORWARD THROUGH REPETITIVE TASKS.
4. FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS HOLY, ACTUALLY SCRAPE OUT YOUR BOWLS. Leaving a third of the food in the bowl is wasteful. And stop trying to pour ‘away’ from yourself – it looks awkward as hell and you never do transfer all the contents from the one container to the other. Also, after you’ve gone through all the trouble of daintily and gracefully chopping ingredients, don’t then leave half said ingredient on the chopping board. That is also wasteful. Reach over for the rest of it – I promise, we won’t mind.
5. DO NOT FLOOD THE PLATED FOOD WITH A TSUNAMI OF PARSLEY, CHIVES, OR OTHER UNNECESSARY GREENERY. Honestly, an overloading of greenery just looks unappetizing. If you absolutely must decorate your food, a very light sprinkling of greenery is more than enough.
6. STOP CRACKING EGGS ON THE SIDE OF THE BOWL! THIS CAN INTRODUCE MINUTE BITS OF EGG SHELL INTO THE DISH. Crack the egg on the flat surface right next to the bowl. I cringe thinking about all the minute bits of egg shell being a crunch factor in your food. Also, the breaking of eggs into a bowl is not interesting. We do not need to see you even cracking the first egg much less the third. Get on with it.
7. DON’T MEASURE OUT THE MAIN INGREDIENT IN ONE CONTAINER THEN TURN RIGHT AROUND AND DUMP IT INTO ANOTHER CONTAINER FOR THE MIXING. Like cream cheese – you know you’re going to be adding ingredients to the cream cheese so just plop the cream cheese block into its final mixing bowl to begin with – unless you LIKE washing unnecessary dishes…
8. WHEN USING PEELED ORANGES, REMOVE ALL THE PITH. The pith is the slightly bitter, tasteless, and weird textured white layer between the peel and the fruit. Leaving bits of pith hanging around just looks like you’re sad and don’t care.
9. DO NOT BE AFRAID TO USE CHEAP INGREDIENTS. Cabbages, potatoes, beans, peas, rice, noodles/pastas, sardines, tuna, canned/frozen vegetation – all these things are delicious in their own right especially when prepared in new or unusual ways.

CONTROVERSIAL OPINIONS but here we go:
• Cherry/other teeny tiny tomatoes are all skin and seeds and little flesh. Stop using them. They’re annoying and look weird even when roasted.
• Peel your freakin’ cucumbers. Cucumber peel is nasty, tough, and vaguely bitter.
• Cilantro does not belong in EVERYTHING. Some of us are genetically predisposed to detest that vile, nasty devil-weed. And no, parsley is NOT a good substitute.
• READ THE ROOM: Steak, beef in general, yes – even hamburger, and other meats are simply too EXPENSIVE for many of us to afford now. Recipes featuring these items are not appreciated. Again, READ THE ROOM.
• If ingredients (especially so-called “ethnic” ingredients) are expensive or harder to find in some areas, feel free to mention substitution possibilities.
• Goofing up is NOT a sin. I repeat: goofing up is not a sin. If something goes wrong, show us how to fix it. That might be information WE need.
• If your recipe is something brought to you from your grandmother or great-uncle or it has a cute story attached to it, tell us! We like when you chatter while you’re cooking.
• If you have a pet wandering around, SHOW US! We love pets! (But also show us washing your hands if you pet them, lol.)

Finally, let us see if you’re having FUN cooking whatever your amazing dish is. We want to see you enjoying yourself!

Agree?  Disagree?  Have anything you’d like to add??

Ok, so, that’s all for today. Hugs to you and your pets! (My old-lady cat Gypsy is today’s Managing Editor, btw…)

~Mer

And as always, here’s the updated link to PayPal for the fake leg + medical bills fundraiser!

PAYPAL FUNDRAISER LINK

Thank you for all your kindness! I really do appreciate y’all so, so much.

💗💗💗

THE WORLD HAS GONE NUCKING FUTS, ALSO EGG TOAST AND SOCKETS



No, srsly, it can’t even go fucking nuts right anymore – it’s gotta be nucking futs now! 

Ok, let’s all agree that I can be one of those superbly annoying folks who can see both sides of most issues.  I blame the preponderance of Libra in my charts for this.  But even I, with all my “devil’s advocate” annoyances, cannot see one single reason for any one not in the actual military to possess military-grade “rapid action” firearms. 

I can see victims, or potential victims, of domestic violence or stalking having a decent handgun for literal self-protection.  I can see people, singles, families, whatev, keeping a well-secured, well-protected handgun in the home for protection if that’s what they want to do.  (Personally I’m a proponent of those pressurized spray cans of “25-foot wasp spray”…hella wide range of nasty in-the-face chemicals, too, y’all.)  I can see cops, federal marshals, and actual peacekeepers having appropriate armament so that they CAN keep the peace.

What I cannot see is some deranged generic psychotic shithead with a grudge with red flags dinging all over the place getting their thirsty-for-blood hands on any sort of firearm for any reason, whatsoever.

No.

I can’t see it, I can’t excuse it, I can’t understand it, and I can’t approve it.

Deranged psychopaths need strong, effective mental help, not military-grade firearms.

**bangs head on desk while mourning dead people**

Ok, I’ll shut up with that rant now. 

***deep breath***

Ok, ok, so…subject change… 

Well, I’m now on my third ‘socket’ – the thing that what’s left of my left leg goes down into that connects to the metal “ankle” and “foot”. 

My leg is shrinking/compressing well, not fast enough in my impatient opinion, but it’s slowly getting there. 

Painfully.

This new socket is smaller and shaped slightly different from what I was used to so it’s applying pressure in different places on my poor, beleaguered flesh.  (Remember, after they cut the bone off, the leftover calf muscles were pulled forward, wrapped around the end of the cut bone, then sewn to the flesh in the front?  It’s like a line stitched in a baseball.)  Well, that flesh is now being pounded in new and unusual ways because of how the socket is made.

Yup, it’s painful.

It makes me not want to get up and move around but I have to get up and move around because, 1. I want/need to get up and move around (lol), and 2. if I don’t, I’ll never get used to it.

So I have to hurt myself for my own good…especially if I want wild and crazy things like food, coffee, or the toilet.

This latest socket is also odd – it allows my knee both MORE freedom…and less.

This is not fair, y’all.  Or fun.

But I do have a teeny success story to share, fwiw, even if it’s proof of the “one step forward, two steps back” price of life.  Ok, y’all may know that I love what I call “egg toast” – it’s just plain white bread dunked into beaten eggs (sometimes with a bit of milk/cream added, dash water, herbs as wanted) then fried until golden and crispy.  Frying anything is still very iffy with me what with the balance, stability, and pain issues especially NOW with the new socket, so this time around I decided to try something new – I microwaved those eggy untoasty bastards. 

It worked…for the most part.  Wasn’t at all crispy (hi, microwave) but was “done” and tasted mostly like it was supposed to (Does “golden crispy” have a flavor? Yes, yes it does and no, it wasn’t there), so it counted, mostly.

It’s one of those things that I’m not in a rush to do again but am glad I did it at least once to see how it went, ya know?

Seems to be the basis of my life now…

I’ll wrap up this pointless, meandering mush-blob by saying that it’s a rainy day.  I love rainy days (when I don’t have to get out in it, let it rain!!) when everything seems a bit quieter, a little slower, a lot safer.  Rainy days imply a sort of coziness, kind of like snow days do.  It’s like they let the earth, and us, breathe a bit easier.

So, if you’re having a rainy day, join me in a nice warm cuppa – coffee, tea, whatever you like – and toss me some cookies.  I’m out. Also out of milk, too, but I can pretend, right?

Anyway, thank you so much for your patience with me, your support, your kindness, and your bitty baby spider vids (lookin’ at YOU, our amazing Duckbutt!)!

Love, hugs, patience, and naps if you can get’em,

~Mer

FUNDRAISER LINK STILL LINKING

Not the new socket – no photo of it yet

JUST AN UPDATE!

I’ve had to update (ok, “redo” since it expired) the fundraiser for my prosthetic leg and the mountain of medical bills incurred when the hospital decided I didn’t need Leftie anymore, so instead of frantically updating my past posts with the new link, I’ve gone full-on lazy-brazen and decided to just post it in a new, you know, post.

So, um,  here:

PAYPAL LINK

BUT…did you notice something missing?? 

THE VET BOARDING BILLS!  YES, I have finally – miraculously! thankfully! – paid those off!!  If I could dance I’d totally be dancing right now!!  AND IT’S ALL YOUR FAULT!!  Srsly, thanks to donations and what tiny-little I had saved up, I have finally paid off the truly ludicrous, lube-free vet-boarding fees.  (Talk about highway robbery, y’all, srsly. Three pets being boarded over two and a half months made that office literally THOUSANDS…and one cat came back with MORE MATS.  Fuckers.)  It was a necessity at the time, though, since I had no one to care for them. 

But I still have a long, looong way to go.  Anesthesiologists, some doctor who looked at something once, another doctor who looked at an x-ray or something, a different doctor who, Idk, did…something, apparently…and another doctor who…oh, and the extreme cost of a fake leg.  Your jaws would drop if you saw how much greedy companies want for a metal and plastic leg.  And I got the cheapest option, too – it’s not like I’m a ballerina or triathlete.   I just wanna be able to walk my dog, wash the dishes, sweep, maybe even get OUT of the house and buy some groceries.  *sigh*

I don’t even have a ramp TO get out of my house.  There are ramps on Amazon that WOULD work but GOOD GRIEF they want blood money for them.

So, yeah, the fight goes on.  And on.  Annnnnd on…

Hang on whilst I sigh despondently.  I’m getting far too good at doing that.

Oh, and my toilet has decided that NOW is a GREAT time to become clogged.  Clogged.  Because why not?  I’ve tried plunging (try THAT with a fake leg…) and I’ve tried an enzyme “pro-environment” declogger.  Nothing works.  Know any free plumbers, anyone?  Cause I sure don’t but I guess I get to start calling around tomorrow.   Who needs groceries and electricity anyway, right?

If I could get down on the floor I would be hiding under my bed.  But I can’t so I’ll sit here and whine at you guys.

Send Toilet-Unclogs-Itself vibes??

Y’all are a great bunch – thank you so much for listening.  I try not to whine too much but sometimes life enjoys smacking me around just a LEEEETLE too much.

~Mer

(Also, srsly, thank you so much for your time and patience – you guys truly are the best readers a writer could ever have!  I love y’all so much!)

THAT TIME O’YEAR

This…post? collection of words?…whatever…has two functions.

First and foremost, I want to wish every single one of you magnificent creatures truly fantastic Christmas/Yule/Holiday tidings. I hope you feel the warmth, comfort, and festive spirit of this time of year. I wish you warm, cozy toesies and eggnog burps, spiced wine and the comfort of a firelit hearth, cold wet puppy noses and little kitten purrs, and most of all the joy – the “hug” – of the season.

Second, if you are just not feelin’ the joy, dude, I got’cha. That’s where I am, fam. It just ain’t happening this year either. I am just too <everything icky and negative> for the “warmth of the season” to have a chance to take hold. So, I get it. YOU ARE NOT ALONE, and there is nothing WHATSOEVER wrong with just plain not feelin’ it. Grump is the word, y’all. Maybe next year?

But that’s no excuse to ignore the eggnog and fruitcake and cookies, tho’…right??

All that being said, I wish you great tidings and eggnog, warm hearths, mulled cider and wine, gingerbread and sugar cookies, huge platters of favorite foods, warm buttery puffy pastries and jelly tarts, cozy blankets and lovely flickering candles. I want the best for y’all.

You deserve it.

You are absolutely the best readers any writer could ever want and I appreciate every single glorious one of you. You mean the world to me.

I’m vaguely mentally planning another post/whine session/group hug before the new year but jic not, HAPPY (effin’) NEW YEAR to you!!

(Srsly, fuck this year.)

Love and appreciation and all that warm and fuzzy stuff,

~Mer

*Had to redo the fundraiser thing b/c apparently they expire after so many days? I don’t understand modern life. Anyway, here:

Same fundraiser, different day

Titles Still Go Here, Right?

Dear Readers-Mine,

To my shocked amazement, I’ve recently received several comments from my beautiful readers enquiring as to my continued existence.

Y’all make my heart sing because I truly thought I’d been, well, not exactly forgotten – more like allowed to just fade away into the beloved ether.

I haven’t been posting anything because it would mainly be whining, complaining, bitching, moaning, and other words ending in -ing that denote general and specific problems with the Universe and y’all just do not need to be brought down by my problems – y’all probably have enough of your own without me adding to it.

But eeenyway…

Ok, fwiw, I still exist.  I’m not the same person I used to be and, honestly, none of us are.  We can’t survive in a global pandemic with all its accompanying mental, financial, physical, and emotional trials and tribulations and NOT be changed in some fundamental way.   It will likely take YEARS for all of us affected by this bullshit to “unpack all this damn baggage”.  The death of a beloved, and last, parent during all this simply makes every single thing infinitely worse.

I won’t wax lyrical (again) about how hard the loss of my last parent has been for me. If you still have your parents and care at all for them, hold them close, get their stories and voices and images down in some permanent way, and if you have already lost one or both…then you already know.

Now, let’s discuss current, relevant life matters that are likely understood by far too many of us if you want. 

Tell me your stories.

You need a place to vent, a place to scream out into the Universe?  Here ya go.  Please, feel free to use my comments section to do just that.  It might/might not change a damn thing but it CAN feel “a bit less bad” when you release your dramas, your heartbreaks, your aches and sorrows and trials to the Universe. Hell, use ALL CAPS if you want – it’s YOUR story.

Me?  I’mma do it right here thus giving you wonderful beings a glimpse into my current life.  Skip to the end if whining/horror bores you.

I’m broke.  I desperately need a job (and the job market is so great, right), only, because of my shitty health, such a joyous thing is not easily attainable.  I need medical care but…no insurance because no job.  I need a work-at-home job because my health is not only laughable but also super-vulnerable – I catch the virus, I die.  The end.  The cats and dog starve because I live alone.  Not a good scenario, right? 

The vaccines are a lovely thing and I would get Shot 1 tomorrow if it were possible but, like many others, my county isn’t being given nearly enough vax – TL;DR = it’ll likely be April or, more likely, May before I can even get Shot 1. 

I still haven’t gotten/likely won’t get that second stimulus payment (that supposedly exists) because of weird loopholes, either.  Oh, and for the shit cookie on top, my car hates me and is possessed by an evil entity that interferes with that whole “battery and ignition” thing.

So, my life sucks ass because of money, health, red tape, stupidity, and evil car entities.

And the cats’ litter boxes need changing again.

Wheee!!

However, I am not alone in being handed a shit sandwich followed by a shit cookie.  While some people probably are doing just fine and I am glad for them, there are multitudes of us who aren’t. 

So, let’s commiserate.   There is an odd power in unity even when it’s “just” online.   I might not be able to help y’all financially but I can certainly give you a safe place to vent and hopefully some mental/emotional comfort, too. 

Y’all truly are the best and definitely deserve all good things.   Consider yourselves hugged and mauled by puppies and kittens (and baby dragons and unicorns if you’re into that sort of thing)(lol).

WP sure has changed, man…hope this posts right and that the comments section is actually still enabled!

Weird.

Love y’all!

~Mer

HEAD. DESK. – repeat x infinity

Massive icky medical bullshittery (in hospital 11 days)…discharged home Friday…has lead to Maximus Lifeus Fucking Interruptus for me.  Yep, I’m home now (and, srsly, thank God because if I had to spend ONE MORE FUCKING NIGHT in that rabid-marshmallow SUCK YOU IN AND NOT LET YOU GO torture device the medical community calls a “hospital bed” I would fucking blow an artery – really, have you ever tried to even just TURN OVER in one of those fuck-ass pieces of bondage shit?  Forget about trying to scooch around to get comfortable – it ain’t gonna happen) and slowly, slowly… – OMFGODRIC OH SO FUCKING SLOWLY – recovering, but now commences the ensuing daily – sometimes hourly – load of (bullshit-infested) You Have Got To Be Shitting Me + This Is A Load Of Bullshit * What, Again?? chaos.

At the end of it all, though, I am alive.  My nerves are rattled, my daily life is disordered to fuck-all and back, and my sanity after all that may be questionable (fucking hospital beds and their “breathing” mattresses meant to keep bed sores, kind thoughts, and actual rest away can go fuck themselves with their electrical cords), but life goes on in all its battered, misbegotten, ill-spent glory.

I am working on fics – I am (dude, SEVRIN anyone??) – but I doubt Eric would appreciate it if I went off on a rant during a “tender scene”.  (I dunno…he’s a vampire of experience…he’d probably get a kick out of it;  Sookie…not so much, and I’m not gonna go pissing off fairy hybrids, well, not yet…)  Sevrin would probably kind-of maybe get off on some of my tangents…well, in my imagination he would…  *dreamy sigh*  Oy – someone call Willa off me!

So, that’s the State of My Life now.  Ah, the joys…

(Place awkward transition here) All this shit is expensive (the pain, aggravation, and the accompanying bitching/whining are free, though, fwiw…lucky me), all of it, even stupid medical supply things and drugs that you’d never thought you’d have to have, the costs of hospital stays and “specialist” consults and x-rays and a vampire-colony’s worth of blood tests every hour…  *sigh*   A wonderful friend of mine started a GoFundMe for me and while it might be bad form to hawk it here, well… *pfft*…catch:

https://www.gofundme.com/paying-it-forwardhelping-karen

Donate if you want, broadcast if you want – I tucked it in here at the bottom of the post all sneaky-like so that no one would feel obligated.  I’m awesome like that (or at least I try).

Anyway, hope you guys are having a better day/week/month than I am.

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~Mer

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Generic NOT A CHAPTER Update – ignore at will

Dearest Darling Readers-Mine,

I HAVE NOT FORGOTTEN YOU!  YOU ARE STILL MY SWEET AND BELOVED KICK-ASS READER-WARRIORS!!!

RL, however, has decided to interfere with my writing processes to the point that I’m perma-glaring at her ass.   The Moon gave me several false starts but at least STC has finally (FINALLY) decided to play nice.  I’ve basically given up on EN: ATS and Decisions for right now.   They’re the least popular current works so they receive the least enthusiasm so *flibbith*.

But…EVERY DAMN TIME I sit down to even THINK about working on One Night, srsly, something happens.  I get interrupted by people with Things That Will Not Wait even though they fucking well could.  The dog got sick (she had a 3-day bout of Where The Hell Did This Come From doggy-diarrhea-poos…that was fun…); the cat got super-sick (he ended up staying at the vets for 3 nights/4 days – and it wasn’t a cruise – with a SERIOUSLY bad case of urinary tract crystals and is now on a $uper-$pendy diet and with instructions to keep track more/less of “how many cat pee balls are in his box” to make SURE he’s peeing enough) and, last but not least, *I* got sick (stress/allergies/not enough sleep will do that to ya, young padawan).    Srsly, I need a curse breaker pronto!

I still blame the cat pee balls, though (I use clumping litter – cat pees, it clumps). 

And then there was Easter.  (I have great leftovers for that curse breaker if they need incentive to, you know, magically appear…)

Oy.  I need a vacay…

But anyway, STC is coming along so do expect a chapter sooner than later God willin’ and the creek don’t rise/animals don’t get sick/I don’t get sick/The Thing That Will Not Wait can actually fucking wait…postage not included, this space intentionally left blank.

Love and cat pee balls,

Mer

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GENERIC UPDATE – SKIP UNLESS BORED

This interruption in your daily (nightly?  hey, it’s possible) life is just to confirm that yes, I do indeed yet live.   Sort of. 

While I’m no longer reeling so badly from the death in my family, as a member of the “chronic bronchitis” club, apparently the time has come once again for me to, erm, (try to) cough up my membership dues. 

Hacking season is upon me.

This year’s dues have hit pretty hard (I reckon emotional devastation will do that to a body) and honestly, typing and concentration are both kind of hard to accomplish when you’re trying to see what the inside of your spleen looks like. 

I’d say I’m barkin’ like a seal but I don’t wanna trigger TOO many SSSSS flash-backs.  Ok, I totally do…I admit it…that’s why there’s brain bleach as the final chapter, yo.

In the meantime feel free to browse/re-browse? my collection of one-shots, parodies (proceed with caution with a couple of them…just ask veteran readers), and completed fics.  As with any fanfic writer, reviews/re-reviews? are always appreciated (especially when the words are all nice and sweet!), so go for it if you’re so inclined.

Hope you have a great rest-of-your-week…Imma go dope myself up again. 

Nyquil, Vicks, ginger/thyme tea, ginger/green tea, Gypsy Cold Care teas (gaaagh…so far the only tasty one is the chamomile but the Throat Coat – horrible violation of licorice’s more pleasant personal properties, y’all – seemed to [vaguely] help my voice [somewhat] try to make another [brief] appearance), hot beef and chicken soups and broths (not mixed; that’s just gross), hot lemon toddies (ok, just one cause ew), and various and assorted remedies have been attempted.

Ok, ok, the Nyquil is actually DAYquil and in tablet form at that – I’m sidelined, y’all,  and it’s not nice to torture the sick with *THAT* horrid taste.

Fwiw, I’d be on preddy, better inhalers, and the good chewy cough syrup but my doctor has turned into a fuckwitted jackass and I don’t feel like trying to break another one in just now.   I have limited patience at the very, very best of times.  This is not one of those times.  Also, I hate going to the doctor – I’m positive they have you wait in the communal sickroom hoping you’ll contract something else so you’ll have to come back after it incubates in a vicious never-ending cycle.

So…yeah, that’s where I’m currently at: coughing/hacking/seal-barking limbo.  Take your vitamins and get plenty of sleep and don’t be around sick assholes who gleefully and oh-so-generously donate their germs to you like you’re some sort of science project.  That’s what the back of the fridge is for. 

Yeah, a “slight cold” is what started all this bullshit.

(cough)

~Mer

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Two-fer to make your Monday a better place, I hope!

Welcome to the only official Monday of this week!  For better or for worse, aren’t you glad each week only gets one Monday (usually)??  Hope you have a great one – now, on to:

A WHERE-I-AM PLUS A SEISMIC THANK YOU

(I started to type this in all-caps so it would appear that I have more energy than I actually do but the constant need to correctly capitalize sentence starts and proper pronouns just made it look stupid so fuck that.  I’m tired.  There.  I mumbled it sorta out loud.)

First of all I want to thank my FANTASTIC, BRILLIANT, WONDERFUL, AMAZING, AND DID I MENTION FANTASTIC? readers for all your VERY much appreciated love and support of the new story!  Y’all have absolutely blown my (invisible, because it’s hot here) socks off with your comments and likes!  As you know I love replying to comments – it gives “us”, the reader and the writer, a great way to touch base with each other, plus you (the collective ‘you’) are such great fun to just chat with, too.  I love being able to do that.  Sadly, between lack of time and feeling like a bulldozed watermelon, replies to this last chapter of ON will have to wait.  Hence, this broad “thank you”.

Now, the five current WIPs all have bits and pieces in the process of being thrown together, and the epilogue/potential (PO-TENT-TSHEL) “future nights” for the (Awww, man, if I go with more nights I’ll have to change the name won’t I?  I dunno…not if I just do the odd night – the odd “one night”- here and there?  Fuck it, I’ll pull a Sookie and deal with it later) now-complete-but-maybe-not story is shimmering around in my oddly-vast brainbox.  

Now for the “but”…cause there’s always an ass involved…

Thing is, I’m one of those people who are sometimes very negatively impacted by the inflammatory response caused by sugar.  Yup – plain ol’ sugar – brown, white, turbinado, cane, beet…you know:  sugar.  As I’m T2 diabetic I usually don’t eat very much of it at a time anyway, so my tolerance to it nosedives.  Then if I, say, give in to the ‘need’ to bake a, say, peach cobbler with, say, too much brown sugar (hey, it’s cool when it caramelizes on the top!) then, say, eat too damn much of the damn thing, I pay like fuck for it for the next couple days. 

As you MIGHT can tell, it, shall we say, “negatively affects” my mood (any laughs that escape my cobbler-hole sound like a death warning), and Advil can only do so much to help negate the aches and pain response.

Dread may have a little bit to do with my desire to remain under my bed, too – my birthday is May 5 and GUESS WHAT:  I get to have a motherfucking ROOT CANAL on that day.  So yeah, the me of me is not a happy fucking camper.

Yay – the tooth will in theory stop fucking hurting.
Boo – it will involve a root canal. ..on my damn birthday.

Oh, and before anyone suggests that I ask the dentist for pain relievers to last from now till then, let me remind you that I live in the “”glorious”” Bible-Belt south where all medical personnel are far more afraid of “”enabling drug addicts”” than they give a damn about those of us in actual pain. Yhep, drug addicts are far more important than pain-ridden patients and doctors, dentists, and whoever the fuck else fearfully and with collapsed balls worship their beloved restrictions to an insane degree.  I vote we direct every ache and pain to those assbastards who would rather regulate against people in pain because they prefer to worship/”protect” damn drug addicts.  I have nothing either for or against drug addicts but damn, don’t make ME suffer because of their shit.

(I may be somewhat biased based on the amount of Advil I’m shoving down said cobbler-hole but GAWD FORBID doctors/dentists around here miss an opportunity to let someone hurt…)

Tolja I was in a shitty mood.  Hopefully after this next week is over I’ll feel more human/humane…nah, I’ll still be in a shitty mood…just might be able to better front it.  At least I never claimed to be all nicey-nice, though, right?

So, yeah, that’s where I currently am.  Have a better day.  ♥

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One Night, Part 2 is up

It had been my glorious intention to post a chapter of one of my WIPs (work/s in progress) along with this second part – the way I did with the first part but probably either Decisions or EN: ATS – but I’m a sick puppy so it ain’t happenin’.  I don’t know when a new WIP chapter will magically appear, either, so I’m going ahead and posting this anyway.

I’m sorry. 

I become almost comically irritated when writers start a new story or a new series while their on-going WIPs or series languish away all dusty and forgotten for months…so I try REALLY hard not to do that to y’all. 

So far I’ve managed to either stick with one-shots (that actually remain one-shots) or one-shots that grow to gigantic proportions but are complete BEFORE I post that first Part (as with BNP), so there’s that at least.

That being said:  HERE!

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Also, don’t forget that awards season has descended upon our fair heads:

*Voting in the Fanatic Fanficts Multifandom Awards is open and doesn’t close until May 2, 2016.

*Nominations are open once again in the You Want Blood Awards for a couple more days (it states they’re open for a week and it was posted two days ago).  I’ve been asked if people can nominate more than one story per category but I have no idea since I haven’t had time to investigate the nommy form yet, but surely so?  I mean, our fandom is graced with some fantastic writers, more than one would fit per category I would think?  I dunno…my face hurts.

That’s all, folks.  I’m gonna go whine at my cats (they care, don’cha know…hey, delusions aren’t necessarily a bad thing when you’re all hurty) about allergies and shit.  Fucking spring. 

(Yeah, I’m on meds but not the kind that make me not hurt, dammit, because  doctors are pushed to/would rather pander more against drug addicts than actually give a fuck about their patients in pain but that  rant will have to wait.  It’s a good rant, too…I’ve had it before.)

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The Moon, Chapter 32, is up for your viewing convenience

Hope you guys enjoy! 

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It’s been creepy-hot over here in NC-land, like, upper-70s/lower-80s crap – IN MARCH.  But there’s no global warming…nope…none at all…  *tosses scuba gear to all of Florida and affected areas of the Gulf*  (That’s not my excuse for waiting so long to post…it’s just a general bitch/gripe.  My excuse is the throbbing in my brain because ~migraine~…I figure it actually does have to do with the weather shifting; I know my allergies sure as fuck do.)

Have a good one and I hope to get another chapter of (nanner nanner not tellin’) out to ya soon.  I have chapters to several fics in progress so in theory it shouldn’t be too long. 

Yeah, I like my theories.  They come with cookies and hot coffee.

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STATUS-Y STATUS OF THINGS REQUIRING A STATUS (aka: Update)

Normally I wouldn’t complain about crap like this to y’all who have by far better things to do than listen to me whine, but I figured (according to PMs, emails, etc…) that some of you kind-ass’d folks might be wondering just where the hell I am.  Therefore, to dispel the (non-existent) rumors, I’m checking in to let y’all know that I have not (yet) fallen off the face of the earth (hush, I can hear you).  I have, however suffered a slight injury of mysterious but painful origin to the last joint of my right hand ring finger.   To make matters even more exciting/whine-worthy, I somehow decided to acquire a splinter – a RECALCITRANT, INVISIBLE splinter – in  my left index/pointer finger just for funsies!  (sarcasm)

My typing fingers appear to be revolting against me.  It seems they are not a fan of my word spewage, ouchy little bastards.  I’m glaring at them mightily (and somewhat condescendingly) as I “hunt and peck” on the keyboard even as I, well, hunt and peck.   Thankfully I give good glare.

(FWIW:  I also apparently have nerves reactivating below an ANTIQUE, ANCIENT scar – ok, so I made the scar when I was in, like, 5th? grade when I accidentally sliced through the meaty side of my palm with a pocket knife.  What used to be numby is now alluvafuckingsudden painful in short but loud {my bad} bursts.)

Anyway, this is just to let y’all know that I haven’t forgotten about you luscious delectable (and rather brilliant) readers-mine, that I haven’t (yet) disappeared from this mudball of a planet…that I’m still around…and that I’m currently whining with surprising efficiency.    I also give good whine.

Thank you for your time.  You may now return to your regularly scheduled whatevs.   I’m going to go whine some more.

(I have, however, perfected the art of dunking Danish butter cookies in my coffee, so that’s a delicious plus!)

TO MY FINGERS:

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TwiFuckery Ch. 4 is up!!

Squeee!  It appears that I have readers that I didn’t even know about!!  How awesome is that?!?  🙂   (Hi-fives self and narrowly misses nose…it’s a gift…)

An FYI for y’all who don’t follow me on Facebook:  Last week (and totally out of the blue) I adopted a starving stray cat that I found in my driveway.  No-Name Kitty *still* doesn’t have a name yet, but he’s slowly gaining weight and muscle back, so at least he’s no longer a literally starving stray.  Vets said he’s between 2-3 years old, neutered, and in very good health considering his hip, back, and some rib bones were far too easily distinguishable under his thick, dull fur. (It was scary trying to even pick him up – that’s how prominent his little kitty bones were.)  He has ridiculously large paws with white socks, the tiniest little miew I’ve ever heard, yet he can hold a note furr-ever…

Ok, so, anyway – without further ado/adon’t:

SERIOUSLY:  READ THIS CRAP AT YOUR OWN RISK!  

YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED! IT IS TOTAL AND COMPLETE TOMFOOLERY!

DO NOT BITCH, GRIPE, CLIP YOUR NAILS ANGRILY, COMPLAIN, WHINE, (WHINGE IF YOU’RE BRITISH), VOMIT, SIP AT YOUR DRINK ANGRILY (that shit takes talent), CRY, OR INVOLVE YOURSELF IN THE GNASHING OF TEETH IF YOU DO NOT LIKE WHAT YOU READ – AFTER ALL: YOU.  WERE.  WARNED.  (See?  I even put it in BOLD RED because DRAMA!)(And because red’s pretty…)

ALSO:

Do I need to repeat that?  I hope not.  I thought we were all adults here and could choose what we want to read and what we want to skip.  If someone decides that they don’t want to like what I write, then BY ALL MEANS, feel free to skip it!  Really!  It’s that simple. 

It’s your time to use as you choose! 

Go pet puppies or kittens or feed your fish (can you even pet fish?)!  Hell, go eat those brownies that I can’t eat!  Enjoy your life!

Oh, yeah, and here’s the link for Ch. 4:

I hope you’re able to enjoy this in the spirit with which it’s intended.  If you can’t or don’t want to, then…don’t read it – it truly *is* that simple. (I used a pretty blue for that one because FEELS!)    ❤

Enjoy!

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More TwiFuckery Parody Crack-Fic anyone? Huh?

Again, seriously:  READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. 

Also, if you’re of a thin-skinned or easily offended, hurt, butt-hurt, or pissed off nature, you might want to skip this “story”. 

Ok, I just hurt something laughing at the idea of this collection of “chapters” being considered anything NEAR a story…  It’s a load of pure crack/parody crap – I’ll totally and absolutely admit that.  And I’ll also totally own the fact that this mess is absolutely meant to mock, poke fun at, and draw attention to some of the more absurd “plots” and themes running rabidly rampant through out several fandoms – but never the writers themselves.

Let us be clear on this:  I am not mocking, et al., the writers – just some of the crap that escapes their brains via their keyboards.

Enjoy, have a laugh, commiserate, add your own peeves in the comments, or ignore the hell out of it – totally up to you, my friends. 

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Sookie Takes Charge, Chapter 4 (The Bill Chapter)

Here it is, Bill-Haters mine, The Chapter Where Pissy Sookie Has It Out With Beehl…  Read now, or save for after the (likely to suck quite badly) episode of TB tonight – I just hope it suits!

Dear Bill,

Let me know what you think…

Ok so this happened…

Odd things happen to me with interesting frequency, but I don’t usually share them because they’re either TOO odd, or would only be of interest to me.

So, yeah, anyway… I hate buying groceries, right?  It’s boring, mundane, annoying, and that just applies to all the breathers involved.  (For some reason little old men *ADORE* me and will follow me around the store trying to carry on conversations and patting my arm to a creep factor of +4…)

I am also a coupon whore – I’m more than willing to spread my shapely fingers for a good coupon.  (Yeah, I know, a couponer who hates shopping…go figure…)

Relevant fact:  In my area there is a grocery store that does a “double coupon up to .99 cents week” about once a month.

That’s ‘this’ week, so I got all happy going through my coupon box being all “this one, this one, not that one, well that fucker expired, this one” until I got my little pile of coupons ready.  Then I got my big little list made up, my li’l coupon pile gathered and paper-clipped…hopped in the go-mobile and arrived intact (always a good thing) at said store.

I piddled, salsa’d, and twirled my way around the store (hey, it beats stomping and glaring which is always Option #2…), tossed the lovely crap I’m buying into the appropriate cart (mine), and eventually voyaged onward to the highway robbery lane check-out lane.

So I was standing there all innocent looking with my neatly-clipped coupon pile resting on the always-too-small check writing area, purse open in the top part of the cart, handy-dandy debit card all handy-dandy and shit… when this older woman tapped on my shoulder and “psst”ed at me – really, she did – she went “psst” and everything!

Me:  “Ma’am?”

She:  motioned me over to her (VERY nearby) cart full of bags from where she’d already paid

Me:  I walked the two steps needed toward her with my purse closed up in my hand (yeah, like I’m gonna trust an old lady THAT much…) and I just KNEW I had a WTF look on my face.  “What’s up?”

She:  dug in her open purse till she brought up her wallet which she proceeded to open to reveal several coupons tucked in a slot where a credit card is supposed to go…she withdrew a coupon then leans over toward me to whisper conspiratorially, “I’ll sell you this $5-off store coupon for $1 if you want it.”

Me:  with most likely an even bigger WTF look on my face, “Huh?”

She:  “I’d be glad to give it to you but *insert something about son/daughter/something in-law/divorce something”

Me:  (to myself:  give the woman a dollar and maybe she’ll be all happy and go away…dig in purse…magic dollar appears…)  “Ok, thank you!  Here ya go!” <–fake but totally believable enthusiasm/gratitude.

(I may be a somewhat ill-tempered ass but I can be a NICE ass, dammit, especially to old ladies!)

She handed me the (surprisingly valid) store coupon, took her dollar, and left (hopefully happily).

I return to the miniature check-writing shelf to discover that the emotionless cashier had gotten through with all the grocery items and had started scanning the coupons.  I plopped the coupon from the old lady down, and shrugged my shoulders.

“I dunno,” I said to her completely disinterested face, “but it can’t hurt to try.”

The coupon goes through (I checked the receipt in the car), I pay, and leave.

So, yeah, that happened.

Weird.

Also, I’m working on the epilogue to Valentine’s Night.

And I still hate buying groceries.

Happy “spring”!!  (Even though I think they lied.)

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Oops I Ranted Again…And You Can, Too!

Click the gorgeousness below to see what I’m bitchin’ about now – and yes…PLEASE feel free to add your own thoughts about SHE WHO WILL NOT BE NAMED (often) and whatever else you feel like bitchin’ about.

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