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.

~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

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

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:

Continue reading

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”.

Godric and Eric thank you2

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. 

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!

One Night

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.)

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

Hope you guys enjoy! 

aThe Moon banner 2

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.

 

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:

https://31.media.tumblr.com/bc34c1fcbbfd993525c6c3396cea0042/tumblr_noikvu9d0P1qdljtto2_r2_540.gif

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:

aREAD AT YOUR OWN RISK

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:

R Putz1 3

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!

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. 

R Putz1 3

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.

travis_fimmel_01

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