Since nothing big is going on, I thought I’d give y’all a “behind the scenes” look at life here.
As much as I complain about being here, and I do despise it, I want to make sure y’all now that there ARE a few wonderful people who work here. Now, like anywhere else, most workers here are…generic 9-5ers – they do what they gotta do to get that check then go home. They’re ok, I get it.
A thankfully small percentage hate it here and make sure it shows. They’re rude, caustic, lazy, insolent, insulting, “wall holder-uppers”. You know the type… There are several here who just need to work elsewhere – or be flat out fired.
But thank God there are the precious few who have a willing, helpful heart. They are the backbone of institutions like this. Here I WILL name names – fuck the rules, they deserve a mention – Taylor, Angie, Donna, Destiny, and Ellen, thank you for making this hellhole liveable. I wish we could clone a thousand of each of you.
Another thing you might want to know about these kinds of places is that there is no privacy. None. At all. Everyone from housekeeping to administration can just walk right into your SHARED room as they perform the perfunctory knock. They never wait for the inmate to say ” come in”. Oh, no, they all just waltz right on in.
Inmate, erm, resident privacy, dignity, and respect are the afterthought that comes after the actual afterthoughts. We are the lowest of the low – everyone is more important than we are.
I don’t know about other places, but in here there is no division of inmates according to health status or care needs. Screamers, constant babblers, and occasionally violent dementias are housed right alongside, and sometimes in the same room with, the totally bed bound, the dying, and those needing little actual care. Yeah. It’s as bad as you think, and sometimes worse.
Well, I didn’t set out to write a novel so I’ll stop here. This is just what I do when I can’t sleep for worrying about all the house bills and money and when am I gonna get my legs and how my dog is doing now that she’s all alone in the house.
You don’t know how many times I’ve started writing things like this just to give my feelings a place to go. It doesn’t really help, per se, but it doesn’t hurt, either.
Anyway, here is the mandatory PayPal link. Your generosity and kindness are the ONLY income I have until I get back home and SSI kicks in.If I get to place a Wal-Mart order for gum, personal supplies,and deodorant,, it’s because of you fine folks!
Have a good one!
~Mer
Like it? (I knew you had great taste!) Spread The Word:
So life is strange, y’all. And confusing. And convoluted. And I can’t even blame it all on Mercury being all Retrograd’y and shit. Ok, I mean, I’ll blame most of it on that anyway, but, well, you know. That’s what Mercury is for, right?
See, things have been strange. Case in point, I’ve had a revolving door when it comes to “home health care aids”. My situation is dire enough to warrant someone helping me out at home 2.5 hours a day, 7 days a week. The problem is finding a local/local-ish home care company that not only has available employees, but available employees who are DEPENDABLE and HEALTHY and NOT TOTAL NUTCASES who actually WANT TO WORK. *sigh*
People are weird.
Other Things have been going on, too, things seemingly designed to fuck with my life, so if you have any prayers, positive energy, vibes, good thoughts, anti-hex charms, whatever that you want to send my way, GO FOR IT.
As far as the Sweetest story goes, I’m working on the second chapter wherein we meet another well-known character. I figure some of you will be surprised while others…maybe not? I mean, it’s not like you guys KNOW ME or anything… … … (*insert manic giggling here*)
My foot is *gestures vaguely* footing ever so slowly right along, I guess. It’s just gonna take time. Lots of time. Lots and lots of time.Meanwhile my poor little body keeps getting chonkier and chonkier. Bah.
I still haven’t heard anything from DSS about the SSI claim. I wonder how they expect me to pay my power, water, internet, phone…etc…etc…bills during the unGodly long wait? Oh, that’s right, they figure if they wait long enough people will die and they won’t have to pay?
Fetid twaticles.
To end this on a sweeter note, warm chai tea is awesome! I mean, I love my coffee but sometimes a girl’s gotta have her tea, too, ya know? Lovely little cool snap going on right now – perfect for hot coffee, hot tea, hot chili, etc. Love this kind of weather!
Hugs and HAPPY NORTHERN HEMISPHERE ALLERGY TIMES!! (My b’day is May 5…I don’t think I’ve ever had an unallergic b’day, lol.)
Things…have been a mess, lol. In general it’s been a GOOD mess, but also a paperwork mess and a “nurses visit and ask lots and lots and lots of questions but don’t actually DO anything” mess and a “lots of appointments here and there and having to deal with ‘transportation’ issues” mess and a “you have some home health help but not all the carers assigned to you will be dependable or even all that capable” mess (the one assigned to help me today is barely more ambulatory than I am…), but yeah, overall it’s good.
My wounds seem to be doing ok…they’re supposed to be monitored daily but I guess having Wound Care look at them once every other week is fine…
Most of the soreness from disuse then sudden overuse has resolved itself, finally – still crutchin’ real damn slow (I ain’t stupid, much) but that’s ok. Having to sit 99% of the time is wearing on the nerves, though. I would dearly love to get back into my writing but my brain is still stress-farting and trying to hide in itself. At best, y’all would get gibberish.
In other news, have y’all heard about how True Blood is being shown on a “regular prime-time” tv channel now? It is, but…I just can’t bring me to watch it. Beehl was bad enough the first time around – why would I want more of THAT??? Ew. Are y’all watchingit?
I just can’t. Plus it would probably make my doggie sick. (snicker)
As part of the “got sent home after being in the hospital a long time” thing, I finally got approved for a program called “Mom’s Meals” wherein you get mailed a huge box containing a cooler packed with around 14 portioned heat-and-eat meals that you keep in the fridge then microwave. It’s supposed to make eating a bit easier for the newly discharged. They’re…not good, honestly. Some are okish but it’s like they poured frozen vegetables into the veg side of the little tray and somehow expect them to be fully cooked after only heating them the recommended minute or two. The two “breakfasts” = a scrambled egg and half a cup of oatmeal sludge with some sort of weird syrup poured over it. The point behind me mentioning them is that if you hear of someone getting them, don’t expect them to be getting something great. It’s…easily fixed food to prevent starvation. Not truly horrible but deeply unsatisfying. But food.
(And they use whole wheat bread which I can’t stand.)
(And the 3 cute ikkle widdle juice boxes included are sized for kindergartners.)
Meh.
I do love that the home help I’m getting does the dishes, sweeps, brings in boxes, cuts up boxes to throw away (no actual recycling center around here convenient enough for anyone to take the boxes to for me, sadly), checks the mail – lots of stuff that I can’t do (cutting boxes down hurts my hands and it’s hard to do while sitting down anyway). It’s too bad that the company can’t find more reliable (and energetic?) help but hopefully things will even out soon. Either way, I’m still grateful as fuck for what help I *do* get.
(Plus if I fall and die, I know that at least someone will find Happy and Galen before they suffer. That’s a huge worry for me since I can’t afford the “I’ve fallen and I can’t get up” thing.)
Speaking of finances…for all the help I’ve gotten so far, none of it is financial. I’m still in just as bad shape as I ever was. Still haven’t heard anything at all from SSI/D. Still have no help with last year’s huge property taxes I still owe. Still have no help with the necessary bills – phone/internet, power, water, etc. etc. etc. I THANK GOD do have “food stamps” – not rollin’ in the sweet, sweet gub’ment food money, but it truly is a tremendous help. In that one way I feel like I’m at least getting back some of the tax money I paid in over the duration of all my working years so I’m not at all ashamed to get it now. Hell, I paid it in!
(Never did understand people being mean about others receiving government help when they need it – the people receiving it very likely paid for it with the taxes taken out of their work checks so they’re just getting their money back. And I will beat with my crutch anyone who tries to mock like single moms trying to buy stuff to make a cake for their kid with “food stamp” money! If people are hungry, you feed them, dammit. Yeah, not a fan of bullies…)
Anyway, so that’s how things are thinging here. Happy and Galen are still lying at/on my feet – to physically prevent me from ever leaving them ever again? Happy is personally insulted at all the new people traipsing in/out of the house – it’s HER house, dammit, and she certainly didn’t give all these new people permission to be here! She barks…and barks…and barks… She’s old, though, and set in her ways and is not at all used to ANYONE other than me being in the house, so I can’t complain at her. Much.
Oh, and it’s apparently Spring, now. *glances out window, rolls eyes* Happy Spring??
~Mer
This is HappyDog and GalenCat in their usual position – at/on my fake foot, lol. Figured I’d rather use their pic for the ubiquitous PayPal link photo as they’re far cuter than my fake leg is!
Last time, I was home for a grand total of 4 – four – days before being sent back to the emergency room.
FOUR. DAYS.
That’s not even enough time to get the musty, closed-up smell out of the house. Poor Happy-dog barely had time to get used to me being home before I had to leave her poor little butt again. (Galen’s too cool for school so doesn’t show a lot of emotion…he thinks, lol – silly kitty.)
They’ve both taken to sitting right at (and, for Galen, sleeping ON) my feet this time around. I think they hope it’ll keep my ass at home finally. I feel bad for them. I mean, sure, they had someone come by every day or three to scoop the litter box, clean up after Happy, feed/water them, and talk to (Happy wouldn’t let them close)/pet (Galen’s a pet-hoe’bag) them, but it’s not the same.
Happy made a point of telling me so.
Loudly.
Ikkle (old) baby girl has NOT left my side FOR ONE MOMENT since I’ve been back.
Ok, so I was discharged late Friday afternoon, got home, VERY VERY SLOWLY did the bare minimum to be moderately comfy, annnnnd sat my exhausted, mentally/emotionally stressed-the-hell-out ass down and CUDDLEED THE FUCK OUT OF MY FURBABIES.
I missed them so, so, SO MUCH.
There may have been some staring blindly at the walls, too.
It took forever Friday for my brain box to shut the hell up enough for me to go to sleep but sometime Saturday early morning, I finally got to sleep AND IT WAS THE BEST SLEEP OF MY LIFE. Never, ever make the mistake of thinking you can get any sort of REST in a hospital.
Then the phone woke me up. Saturday morning.
*sigh*
I swear, anyone who ever spends more than a week in the hospital should be given a day planner and a private secretary to handle all the calls and notes and appointments and paperwork that springs forth immediately thereafter.
Saturday, thought, was one of the worst days of my life, physically speaking. Keep in mind that I had spent most of February and March horizontal in hospital beds NOT wearing/using my prosthetic or real leg. All the progress I’d made with my getting used to the fake leg? Gone. It was almost as though I’d never worn one before. My real leg? It had basically forgotten what that whole “standing” and “walking” thing were all about. Comfortably bearing my body weight? Both legs were all confused by the concept.
I was so sore Saturday when I tried – TRIED – to get up to go to the bathroom I cried. Peeing my pants almost seemed like a viable solution to the Nature Calling problem. Almost. I knew, though, that there was only one non-medical way to resolve the problem and that was to use the LOUDLY SCREAMING muscles, joints, and bones to work out the lactic acid and get my ass going. So, ever so damn slowly, and quite shakily, too, I crutched my way to the potty room. Granted I set up housekeeping on the throne for a bit to recover and overcome the absolute and extreme dread of WALKING BACK, but…BY GOD I DID IT.
Later…ok, much much later, I grabbed my courage by the balls and made myself crutch to the kitchen – OMG, COFFEE – then crutched back. The only other crutching I did on Sat. was back to the bathroom – I’m ballsy but not a pain lover – but still, I did it.
Sunday was a smidgen better, not much I’m sad to say, but almost vaguely tolerable. It was still very, very painful. Today, yeah, still sore and a little shaky (Friday evening at home I was horribly shaky and honestly should not have been up by myself in this house but when you have no one, you gotta do it yourself or you don’t do it at all), but I’m…getting there.
NOTE: If you’ve spent more time horizontal than vertical, expect muscle soreness and weakness, bone soreness, joint soreness, and a general shakiness when you DO get vertical. Also, prosthetics will not feel, act, or work the same because the shape and condition of your limb end will change.
Ouch.
Anyway, so I’m back home, at least for now, and my pets have told me I’m never, ever allowed to leave again. (Don’t tell them but I have an apt tomorrow…which is its own gripe but I won’t bleed your ears with it.)
So – how has YOUR Feb/March been? Better than mine, I hope! The weather has been weird EVERYWHERE so I hope y’all have been safe??? Dry??? Not blown away or snowed in for days on end???
It won’t be world-shattering and my financial problems are far, far, far from over, but: I’VE BEEN APPROVED FOR MEDICAID!!!!!!!!!!!!
NOW I can get my leg socket replaced, get another liner (that fits) and that kind of severely annoying) stuff, not to mention that when I figure out how to get actual transportation to/from doctor’s visits, I might could even see about getting healthy.
If Medicaid will pay for insulin, I might can even get the diabetes under control!!! (Right now I use the cheapie “$25/vial Walmart” stuff when I can but if you don’t have $25 dollars, you still don’t have insulin.) Having to ration insulin, and sometimes do completely without, has already caused a noticeable increase in neuropathy pain and a decrease in my eyesight. Maybe Medicaid will help with that??
The not-so-great news is that Medicaid will not pay for the bills accumulated BEFORE the Medicaid approval date. They would backpay for some things, depending on how recent, but all my previous leg, medical, medical-related, and not bills don’t qualify date-wise, so I’m still on the hook for those.
As well as my regular day-to-day daily-life bills. It doesn’t matter if I’m in “SSI limbo” for months – power, water, phone/internet, and other daily-life expenses (toilet paper, dog food, toothpaste, etc) still have to be bought/paid somehow and I don’t think I have enough body parts left to sell…
That being said, I can’t wait to get the whole Medicaid thing going. I’m sure it will be rife with complicated paperwork and hoops (all gov’t things are), and I still have no transportation lined up (I’ve heard it’s possible but I don’t know the hoops yet that I have to jump through), but yeah.
Oh, and get this: I have to go BACK to the leg-chopper surgeon to get an (another) Rx for a fake leg for Medicaid to pay for it. What, do they think my leg automagically regrew while I wasn’t looking?? It’s a calendar date thing, but still. Like, srsly, is a PROSTHETIC LEG something ANYONE would lie about??? The dr’s office (really nice office workers) knows the deal and we had a good laugh over it when I called them to ask about it all. We agreed that it’s ridiculous.
Anyway, I’m grateful to have something GOOD to tell y’all. I hate being whiny and depressing and only ever having something bad or worse to bring to the table. When I go quiet, it’s because I’m probably in a bad head-space, in a lot of pain, or something else icky and gross and I don’t want to drip my gloom and doom all over you.
Y’all are my sanity, my genuine friends who live in my computer! I want to bring only happiness, some chuckles, a couple sentient spiders, and fun into your life and really wish we could come out and play, have coffee at 1am, share hugs and cake and literally be there FOR EACH OTHER when times are good AND bad. No one would ever understand that you are not JUST “my readers” – you are actually a part of my life that I value very highly.
So, that’s the latest! Hope y’all are doing well, and if you are or not, do let us know. We care. I care.
Ok, so my last post sucked. I was (rightfully? understandably?) *DEEPLY* angstified. Depressified. Surly at the world-ified.
I mean, I still am, sure, but I have had some small measure of success and would far rather THAT be my latest post, so…here.
First let me state that I have very strong phone anxiety. I hate picking up the phone and then talking into it. Phone = foe.
But I managed to make not one, not two, not three, but FOUR calls yesterday.
That’s a win, right?
I had something else to humble-brag about but dang if I can remember NOW what it is/was. Brain fog…I don’t recommend it. It surely wasn’t about my dog’s horrendous, deadly, toxic, foul-miasma farts…
A sad news is that I’ve had to let my homeowner’s insurance die plus I still owe for ALL of last year’s property taxes, both of which hurt. This is my parents’ house, my “mom’s” house. Tears are involved.
Oh, just remembered: the good-ish news is that IF I’m able to jump through all the right hoops juuuuuuust right, I might be able to get a percentage break on THIS year’s taxes. We’ll see, eventually.
Did I mention that I despise paperwork, too?
Cause it’s icky.
The leg guy (Kevin, if you care) is supposed to magically appear on Monday. I need the socket (the part that my liner-encased leg goes down into) replaced (again) because the end of my leg is naturally still shrinking and the (super expensive PLASTIC) socket is too big (again) plus I need a new liner (the thing that goes over my skin and attaches the socket to me) because it’s loosening (too big now plus wearing out) and other generic but expensive leg stuff. But hey, progress, right?
Anyway, I’ll stop nattering in your reader-ear for now. Just thought I’d share my “I’m proud of me” good news now that I had a little.
You see,since Dec. 28th I’ve been hiding in my head, trying to pretend the world doesn’t exist and avoiding thinking about things as best I can because the thoughts hurt So…typing about them to you guys would have brought them to the forefront thus making me think the thoughts that I don’t want to think, plus I also REALLY REALLY don’t like being Deanna the Downer Dandelion, either.
For y’all, I want to be a source of fun, of stories and fantasies, of escape from the drudgery of daily life and caring about the YOU of you. I don’t LIKE being a source of bad, horrible, negative drama in my own life, much less in yours – you deserve better than that!
But that’s all I got now – depression, fear, utter helplessness, anxiety, frustration, the whole badly dyed, slightly dusty 9 yards..
***sigh***
Remember the SSI telephone application appointment at the end of December that I had such high hopes for?
It did not go well.
At all.
The interview “lady” was so condescending, insulting, mocking, patronizing, and disparaging that I cried for a solid hour after getting off the phone. And then that evening. And that night. And the next day…
Imagine a Dolores Umbridge without the “hem hem” and you have the officious office beast I got stuck with.
I really don’t have any hope.
And that’s why I haven’t updated recently. I am so sick and tired of being a constant source of whine and sadness.
Plus my cheapie keyboard is just that smidge too small and my fingers keep NOT hitting the right keys. Frustrating!!
Also bronchitis ’cause that’s always fun. There’s more, a lot more, but I hate this keyboard and I’ve dumped enough off on you already. But I could really use a hug right about now.
Y’all really are great and I do most heartily thank you for caring and for letting me whine at you. I genuinely DO do hope you have been having a better 2023 than I have but honestly, that wouldn’t take much at all. Somebunny win us all the lottery??
*pfft* Hey, can’t hurt to toss the suggestion out into the Universe, right?
I should open my own whinery – I have enough stock by now!
Ok, y’all – believe it or not (and, yes, in the middle of the shitty chaos that pretends to be my life now), I actually HAVE been rereading Moon to get back into the groove of it.
No, I haven’t started writing yet – but I *have* been refamiliarizing myself with the story (and Sookie’s Amazing Preggo Cravings, lmao). I may also have been being (stilllove mah twisty verbs) a bit amazed – did *I* write THAT??? Rly?? Awesome!!
Wish I had a “play by play” of the story to keep The Bad (Dae) Guys straight, like, who and where they are and who did what (besides that damn’d evil triplet! – I know where SHE is MWAHAHAH!). But I get caught up reading and forget to take notes (plus brain fog sucks). Eh, if I make big booboos when I eventually DO post, I hope y’all will (kindly? gently?) lemme know?
Unfortunately my attention to it can’t be undivided now – too many other worries going on (mostly money, but also pain/health/life/existential bullshit), but I did want to let y’all know that I *am* trying – I’m pretty sore from life’s constant beat-down now and am not nearly as resilient as I used to be (or, more likely, as I thought I was), but I am trying.
I also wanted to thank you all for all your kind words – they really do mean the world to me. But — did you know that one of the “side effects” of brain fog is thinking that you’ve replied when all you’ve really done is lost the email in the sea of other emails where other things are also lost? Yeah. So please x infinity do NOT read anything into it if I haven’t or didn’t reply to your kind messages/comments. There’s a real damn good chance that I thought I had then got distracted by feeding the cat and then I needed a coffee and because of the coffee needed to crutch it to go pee and oh cookies! and then it was dinner time and where did all the time go and ugh the chicken is still frozen and no I don’t want pasta yet again but… (That may or may not have totally happened more than once…)
You guys ARE the best and I truly DO appreciate your kindness more than you could possibly know. I am YOUR biggest fan, for reals. You already know that life is hard, that it’s a rancid battlefield dotted with landmines and quicksand, that sometimes the unicorns are rabid and sprites and fairies can have some damn sharp teeth, and yet you send me such great encouragement and kindness and thoughts and advice anyway.
Thank you. Srsly.
Anyway, I’ll wrap whatever this is up – just wanted to keep you in the swirly, curly loop – and hope that y’all have a wonderful day! (I really am trying, guys.)
MAH DOGGY HAPPY CAUSE SHE’S SUCH A GOOD GIRL! She has become super-dooper protective of “mommy” after the amputation, bless her 10 (cough*15*cough) lb self!! (Got tired of photos of fake legs – hell, I see the damn thing every day as it is – and Happy is hella cuter!)
Like it? (I knew you had great taste!) Spread The Word:
Ok, so in my brilliance I decided to wait a bit to give any straggling readers a chance to pop in and comment…then a head cold caught me (Why would we CATCH a cold? Seems like a dumb thing to do, ya know, like…who tf is running around CATCHING colds??) so I was singularly unimpressed with the world for a while…then FALL ALLERGIES struck.
NOW that colds have been flung off and the allergies have settled a little and everyone who would comment has done so, WE HAVE RESULTS!
THE WINNER: ANYTHING! LOL! You guys are the best!! THE WINNER-WINNER: THE MOON!
You, my kind, wonderful, kick-ass readers have spoken! I’mm’a have to do a thorough reread complete with note-taking and whatever level of focus my fog-brain will allow, but thankfully I still “feel” the “tone” that first sparked the story. The loneliness they both felt at first, that disconnected feeling they unknowingly shared, that “I have everything I thought I wanted but now that I have it, it’s just not…right” realization that, yeah, they both unknowingly share… Hopefully FLM will agree with me and direct my fingers into heroic feats of FINALLY FINISHING THE STORY.
Is this where I’m supposed to admit that I had the beginnings of a new plot the other day? I mean, it might have been the cold meds or oxygen deprivation or something but…yeah, I had to stop myself from typing the premise out of respect for all the UNFINISHED stories that litter my past like bad decisions made at 2am in questionable Waffle Houses.
*sigh*
Those were the nights…
The 4-minute fries were great but the coffee was awful.
Your reviews, btw, made me smile. And made me a little weepy. All prayers, all good vibes and juju, all good thoughts, are ABSOLUTELY appreciated more than you know. You guys really are a cut above – the true cream of the reader crop. Thank you for that. I don’t deserve it, but I really do appreciate it.
So…gimme a bit to do the reread/notes/playing with the brain-fog, then we’ll see if the FLM returns to roost for a bit. Hey, it’s getting colder (shockingly fast at that!) so maybe she’ll wanna rest on a warm shoulder??
At least it’d give my cats something to stare at…well, one would. The other would want food. Again. The dog would just give me a judgemental side-eye and go back to sleep. She’s old; she’s allowed.
Ok, time to wrap up the meanderings – thank you again for your kindness, your patience, and your support. You all deserve the best and most snuggliest vampires who clean houses AND do the windows!
~Mer
PS: Now watch, I’ll get part-way through Moon then BAM – inspiration will strike for a totally different story… FLM is truly not a dependable figment…
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…
So yesterday I got the latest sooper-dooper Covidious booster – Pfizer Bivalent, for those of you who are interested – and today, buddy I’m feelin’ it. It’s NOT horrible – fatigue, coughing, runny nose, ARM SORE AS FUCKTATOES, and kind of bleary eyed, but NOT HORRIBLE.
Honestly, the reaction thus far is only ever-so-slightly more than the usual booster blues.
These are MY reactions, though – your mileage may vary.
I don’t know about y’all but I keep hearing differing opinions about The State of Covid. Me? Until I’m told that Covid is dead and gone forever, if there’s a booster, I’mm’a be getting it. All I know is that Covid is alive and well and happily sprouting new variants – has NOT mysteriously disappeared along with common sense and all my money – so, yeah, if there be a booster, there be a me.
Now, I *was* going to get both the booster AND the flu vax, but my butt chickened out. Why? People on crutches do not need the dizzies. So that vax will happen in a couple weeks after all the booster blues have faded away into obscurity. I’ve only ever had very mild reactions to the flu shot and HAVE had a VERY VERY NASTY flu so, yeah, I want that flu shot…just want to be sure the reaction to it is as mild as possible.
Can’t be brave on crutches, y’all.
Obviously I’m a total supporter of safe and researched vaccinations. And, even if the vax may seem “too new”, if the effects of catching the disease are probably worse than any reactions to the vaccine, I’mm’a be baring my arm and doin’ the gimme.
You do you. Do your logical, common-sense’ical research, and make your own decisions about what’s best for you and yours. Just be sure to acquire your information from actually trusted sources and weigh your own pros and cons. Y’all are smart – use those luscious brains boxes!
I…don’t really have a lot more to say. Oh, ok…(*huffy huff*)…I could rant FOR DAYS on corporate greed, the recession nobody wants to admit we ‘Merrikinz are in, political…everything, the fact I can’t pay my leg off, the fact that I’m not emotionally prepared for Fall/Autumn (since I never actually had a winter, a spring, or a summer…), the fact my cats and doggie are getting older and I’m not emotionally prepared for that, either, but… Ok, I’ll shut up now.
Here’s what I want to know:
HOW ARE YOU DOING??? Are YOU prepared for the season’s change? Are you and yours doing ok? How are you guys handling the continuation of Covid, of the flu season, of all the germs that breed in schools/work/etc? Are you eating as healthily as you can given how bad food prices have soared with no relief in sight? Are you taking your antihistamines for seasonal allergies? ARE YOU HYDRATED ENOUGH??
(WP here seems to have problems keeping the COMMENTS section open, so if it’s not showing, refresh or come back later. I do – always – have it engaged, so if it’s not there, glare at WP.)
We’re a community, y’all. Sure, we’re 99% online-only but it still counts. I care about you and, for reasons I will never understand, you care about me. So, let’s share our tips and tricks and support, our recipes and gripes, and our wins and losses and triumphs.
Share, yo.
Hearts and kittens and puppies (and awesomely cute baby bats!),
~Mer
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Obligatory PAYPALlink because, ugh, I do still need thehelp
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So ok it’s not a REAL competition – I don’t have money for a prize anyway, and the “poetry” part is probably suspect as hell, too, but yeah. I have some words written in a poetic-ish fashion and wish to share them with you (apologies).
After you read them (srsly, apologies), I would like to either know what you think (cussin’ is allowed, of course), read what poetical thing you might write in response/opposition/etc., or both. They’re your words, too, so use’em!
So, without further ado’ing, here:
•~•0•~•
We were young
We were young We were kings Rulers of all Running the streets We didn’t know Thought the world against us Thought we had time We didn’t know we had it all We had time Until we started fading Until we lost hope Until we lost the future We didn’t know we had Lights falling Lights falling Dreams going dark We lost.
•~•0•~•
So, whatja think? Do you have your own set of words you’d like to post in the comments?
Anyway, that’s all I got for now. I guess you can tell I’m not in an especially good headspace atm. There’s lots of staring into the middle-distance with a bitter expression going on because that’s totes productive, right? My body is bad; my finances are worse than terrible; my creativity is awful… sigh Ever notice how comforting a thunderstorm can feel?
I hope y’all are doing better. I really do – I’ve “known” some of you for YEARS now. Sure, it’s “just” online, but I remember when I first started posting fanfic that it didn’t take long to start recognizing names of reviewers, to start recognizing who likes what style of story and who appreciated the writer as much as they appreciated the stories, who was especially supportive. It wasn’t difficult at all to develop a sincere appreciation for this one and that one, and to drift from “internet acquaintances” to genuine friends.
PS: You have no idea how very much I appreciate every single dime anyone has sent my way – your kindness means the world to me and absolutely warms my heart, so please don’t think the fact that I keep this fundraising active means I don’t value every single one of you. I do; it’s just that my situation is that dire. Thank you, for reals – from the bottom of my sweaty, cookie-crumb covered little adolescent heart that still giggles at penis jokes.
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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 mebut 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:
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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…
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.
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!
Greetings, salutations, and coffee, y’all! Thought I’d check in and see how everything’s going.
Here (in the US) we’ve just waded through Mother’s Day. Yay. For all of y’all whose moms have passed on, I totally get it – mine escaped Earth’s gravitational pull back in 2011. I miss her; I envy her, annnnd I miss her. We did NOT have the best relationship, at least, not all the time – we were two entirely different people ( for one thing I’m Taurus and she was Sagittarius) and that’s not always a good thing – but I did love her dearly and she loved me back dearly.
We had jokes, lol, and what I would describe as “verbal memes” (way before memes were a thing), though, and she was wicked smart in the strangest ways. But she’s gone, been gone now for years, yet it’s still like it was yesterday that we were joking about the 4:10 to Yuma.
So I totally get it when people don’t want to “celebrate” Mother’s Day for some reason. Maybe your mom wasn’t anything near what could be described as a GOOD mom. Maybe she just plain didn’t exist. Innumerable family dynamics, and non-family situations, exist and it would be far beyond my grasp to even try to include them all. Just know that you are seen and loved.
And the moms who never had a chance to BE a mom whether because their body didn’t cooperate or the blending of that particular set of genetics just wasn’t viable, or maybe Strange Things Happened and it for whatever reason didn’t…happen. And the wanna-be moms who’ve just never met the person they’d like to be “the dad” – that’s me, still haven’t found someone whose genetics I’d like to immortalize.
I also feel very badly for the moms who have lost their children – including those moms whose children didn’t make it safely into the world in the first place. You’re still a mom – even if the miscarriage (and what a lackadaisical word for devastation!) happened at X-number of weeks…YOU ARE STILL A MOM and I grieve for your loss.
And about Cat moms and Dog moms and, hell, Ferret and Birdie and Snake and Guinea Pig and and and moms – yeah, I totally get that, too. I know exactly how strong that love is between a dog and her/his girl and a cat and her/his girl. Our pets ARE family. So they totally count, too.
So there’s that…another (sometimes it feels really forced) “holiday” in the midst of 2020-2022 crisis. Because we need MORE potential drama, right? Ugh. I really envy you guys who still have both parents and you get along well enough to chat with them often. You’re lucky. **imaginary hair flip in your direction**
I don’t like “forced” holidays. I get it – mothers and fathers (the good ones) should be honored and “giving them their day” is a way to do that, but it shouldn’t have to be made into “a day” for it to happen. But it is a way to remind the forgetful that it needs to happen, so there’s that I guess.
Anyway, update time on me, I guess – you can skip if you want…I’m NOT that interesting. What I am, though, is…still broke, still hurting, still on crutches, still aggravated by an insane number of inconveniences and frustrations and UGHs. So, nothing’s changed. I still to this day need about $3,000 to finish paying for the crappy-fitting leg (yup, even the cheapie ones aer SO expensive that I still owe THAT much and they are wanting their money), and that’s not including all the money I still owe on all the other stuff.
May I respectfully suggest NOT being un-wealthy in America? It’s not a nice country to be broke in. Pretty scenery in places, though, for whatever that’s worth.
And – y’all can join in the bitching now if you want – as in all countries I suspect, food prices are SOARING, even dog and cat food prices are at extortionate levels now. Even the price of used-to-be-cheap CHICKEN is astronomical. I have 2 cats and a doggie – they are NOT vegetarian…they’re animals who eat meat…ugh. It’s like the capitalism system actively wants them (and me) to starve.
I could see businesses/corporations/WTFE raising prices SOME to meet the higher prices of shipping/transportation, gas, costs of ingredients, etc., but not to this point. But that’s just me. I want everyone to survive as best they can so they can thrive later. Silly me.
So, how’s it going with YOU? Are you guys making it ok? Do we need to create a commune type situation where we can all live together (but separately…I snore and my dog doesn’t really like other people…) and share meals and household tasks and tell stories around campfires at night with marshmallows and gaze at the stars and have coffee and cake and bacon and pancakes and eggs together in the mornings?
Sounds like a plan to me!
Or I could just be hungry.
Love and hugs and only light swats with the crutch from me,
~Mer
PS: the up-to-date Paypal fundraiser link reclines below – feel free to click if you want!
This is just a “the old fundraiser expired so I had to create a new one so here’s the new link” update. Said link is oh-so-very-conveniently located below…for, um, your convenience and, um, stuff.
Oh, wait – I *DO* have a teeny tiny update – I’m using a smaller “liner” now! That’s a good thing – what needs to happen over time is that the “cut off point” of my affected leg (I detest the word “stump” – I AM NOT A CUT TREE!) has to “mature” which means that the flesh at and a ways above the “cut off point” needs to atrophy + release fluids + become more compressed. This takes forever. And yes, it can be pretty painful.
The liner is the silicone/gel/whatever thing that goes next to my skin and has the pin at the bottom that clicks into place to attach and hold the prosthetic leg to me. It’s made of tacky, kind-of-adhesive’y material so that, if it fits properly, it can’t slide or be pulled off my leg. It’s stretchy up to a point but is meant to have a pretty firm hold. It’s what attaches the mechanicals to the fleshy bits.
Compression is good. It’s what helps provide a stable base for walking. I’ve already compressed (shrunk) out of the first “socket” (the wide top part that my leg end goes down into). That first one was huge in large (ha ha) part due to post-traumatic swelling and wound insult, water retention, and because life. My leg guy was kind of shocked by how quickly I shrunk out of it. So anyway that was replaced but the liner…wasn’t.
It’s a money thing – NONE of this stuff is cheap no matter how badly it’s needed.
But…about 2 weeks ago there was no choice – the worn-out, out-of-shape old liner HAD to go. The gaps and ill-fit meant that, because it was so big and stretched out now, it technically COULD lose hold and, unlikely but potentially, release both itself and therefore the rest of the leg. Again, highly unlikely but still a relevant concern, plus the ill-fit made the leg/leg interface even more “wobbly” and “squishy”…not good for stable walking. (Ok, imagine a too-large condom on a less-endowed “staff”…it would still kind of grab onto the skin but wouldn’t necessarily STAY there no matter how much the guy tries to claim it’d fit…)
So eeny way, that’s a yay for me! Yes, there’s still tons of stuff I need or that would make my life at least a little easier to bear, but I will absolutely take the happies when I can find them.
Especially when it means being able to ditch the badly fitting leg condom with the pin in the bottom… *snort*
So, that’s my li’l update. Oh, and the convenient link is conveniently plopped below (have to re-do it because it expires after a little while). Have a great rest of March? (It’s strangely cold here…I don’t mind a bit!)
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.
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!)
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Yes, you heard that right – after a hiatus of HOW FREAKIN’ LONG I have managed to write A Thing. I know! Shocked me, too!I’ll add it to the site proper-like later…if I remember how. WP changed w/o my permission, y’all. There has been cussin’ involved.
○○○
An Eric and Sookie Valentine Short
A/N: This one-shot is set in no particular time, no particular story/Universe – it’s just a one-off where there’s no Beehl, no Fellowship of the Ri…erm Sun, no Sams or Alcides or Fairies or whatever runnin’ around clouding the issue… It’s just Eric and Sookie spending time together getting to know each other without interference. (The way it should have been.)
This is probably dumb but it’s my first attempt at writing in HOW MANY YEARS NOW? *bangs head – THE FLM’S HEAD – on desk* Do hope y’all enjoy it anyway. It’s for you.
Enormous kudos go out to our lovely, patient, and absolutely amazing ○Kleannhouse○ for taking time out of her day to chisel and bang this mess into something readable. Naturally I then had to go mucking about in it again afterwards so ALL mistakes are entirely mine.
○○○
Someone stomped into the kitchen.
That was Sookie’s first clue.
The second clue was that they’d apparently entered via the back door instead of making an entrance via the official front door.
The third clue was a soft thump as something landed somewhere in her kitchen.
Something was up.
What the hell is he doing, she muttered to herself with a glare toward the kitchen. The timing and the lack of readable thoughts told her the kitchen-invader was a vampire. The fact that they’d came in the back door meant they were either a regular visitor or at least felt at home there, so she wasn’t concerned about her safety…yet.
Wait a…
Eric.
She figured it had to be Eric.
Stomping around… Things thumping… Bad mood, maybe? Impatience? Something.
He’d better not break any of gran’s crockery.
She sighed. Here she was all wrapped up nice and warm and comfy on the sofa with a well read and reread book in her hands and an old movie playing on the possibly even older tv (the sound was down so she could concentrate on her book, of course; it was more for background noise than anything) and tall, blond, and handsome had to come stomping around in her kitchen of all places (why the kitchen?) and disturb her peace and quiet!
It wasn’t that unusual for Eric to stop by, though.
In fact, here lately he’d been dropping by oh-so-casually about every third night or so.
Sometimes they had lively discussions where it seemed he delighted in getting her riled up over this or that, but a lot of times they’d just sit and watch whatever was on late-night tv or maybe pop in a movie.
To date he’d somehow managed to increase her old-movie collection by about quadruple.
She had to admit it was kind of nice, sometimes…ok, usually, and he always acted differently to how he’d act in that silly club of his.
But what was he doing here now and in her kitchen at that?
With a begrudging huff she marked her place in her book and started to unwrap herself from her cozy throw-cocoon but then stubbornly decided to wait it out.
If he wanted to talk to her, he could come find her.
It wasn’t like he didn’t have manpire senses at his disposal.
Then she heard the freezer door, two cabinet doors, and the refrigerator door open and shut.
Then – was that…what did he need with…?
Book forgotten, Sookie dislodged her wrappings as she slowly sat up, her concentration focused on the odd noises coming from her kitchen.
When she heard what had to be eggs being cracked – she’d lived with her gran far too long to not know what that sound meant – she couldn’t stand it anymore and had to investigate.
Barefoot, in baggy sweatpants and a half-tucked t-shirt, she padded to the kitchen door and…stared.
Eric, tall blond Viking vampire that he was, was standing at the counter glaring at egg goo as it dripped from his hand.
Apparently he’d missed the bowl that looked like it had flour in it.
A subsequent glance about the kitchen told her that no, it wasn’t flour. On the table was an opened box of chocolate cake mix, three tubs of store-bought frosting, and a container of strawberries.
“Eric, what in the world are you doing?”
He looked up at her as she dashed to the kitchen sink and grabbed a paper towel and didn’t speak until she’d wiped the recalcitrant egg from his hand and the counter.
“Tonight starts Valentine’s Day,” he stated as though that clarified anything.
“Yeah, and?”
She pulled him over to the sink and pointed at the tap for him to wash his hands, then tossed away the paper towel’d bundle of squished egg.
“I have to oversee the club tomorrow night as it will be packed.”
He didn’t seem pleased by this fact, and Sookie had to snort. She knew exactly how some of Fangtasia’s Finest would dress and act.
To her surprise, he continued.
“Pam assures me this holiday is important especially to females who like to receive things that they like, so I have bought you a cake. You like cake.”
He nodded with purpose.
“Now I have to make it.” He glanced down at his now-clean hands.
“Somehow.”
Once he was back at the bowl, however, he stared down at said egg…then at the eggs already in the bowl, then back to the egg in his hand.
Shaking her head and trying to control the huge grin demanding face-space, Sookie walked over and held her hand out.
While Sookie stood there with her jaw dropped, Eric sped back to the refrigerator and withdrew another egg.
“Here, gimme that.”
With unashamed relief, Eric gladly placed the dratted egg into her hand.
No more was said as she expertly cracked the egg and added the remaining ingredients until she handed Eric a wire whisk.
“Here, give this a good stir,” she instructed the bemused blond giant while she dragged out cake pans and set the oven to pre-heat.
She figured his vampire whisking skills would be better than hers for a lighter, fluffier cake.
He did as instructed and watched with clear curiosity as she buttered the cake pans and then put flour in them…only to knock it right back out.
Humans, he thought for the billionth time, were weird. Why did she put flour in pans then dump it out? And what was with the butter?
This cake-making proposition was becoming more unfathomable by the minute.
And it had all started out so simple, too. Pam had remarked…remarkably casually for her… that human females liked receiving things on Valentine’s Day and that they liked receiving things that they actually liked.
Eric knew Sookie liked cake, and that she liked ice cream. The ice cream – butter pecan because he recognized the scent – was easy enough to procure and he had even remembered to place it in the freezer part of her refrigerator when he’d first arrived.
It was the cake that was proving…untrustworthy.
Sure, he had inspected the baked and decorated cakes available in the market but they were all garish and weird, and they smelled like acrid chemicals. When an elderly lady nearby had mentioned to her bedraggled cabbage-scented companion that cake mixes might be a better idea, he had silently followed them to that section of the store only to stare in dismay at the numerous offerings.
How many types of chocolate cake mix did humans need?
With an eeny meeny miny moe, catch the Loki by the toe he’d grabbed the chocolatiest looking mix only to then be confounded by the concept and vast number of cake frostings in small containers.
To err on the side of caution, he’d selected three of the blasted things in different flavors – dark chocolate, cherry vanilla, and butter pecan – then fled to the fresh fruits section of the store.
At least he recognized strawberries.
Sookie calling his name interrupted his musing.
“Eric, that’s enough. That cake’s gonna be ten feet tall if you don’t stop.”
With a laugh she took the bowl from his hands, placed the whisk on a plate that had mysteriously appeared on the counter, and proceeded to divide the cake mix between two of the weirdly floured pans.
Once everything was in the oven baking, she grabbed the whisk and he thoroughly enjoyed watching her clean the lucky thing with her tongue.
“Stop starin’,” she said with a blush as she turned away and walked to the sink.
(The tiniest of wee giggles came from the top back corner of the kitchen. The little spider had been watching since the Vampire had hurriedly stomped into the kitchen and then had the audacity to flip on the overhead lights.
Once fully and reluctantly awakened – spidering was hard and it’s not like the tastiest fliers were nocturnal, damn it – he’d settled in to watch the cold-blooded invader be beaten by…an egg.
An egg.
And now the blond giant was pouting at a kitchen tool.
It was proving to be an entertaining night.)
“So, what’s with all the cake frosting? And the strawberries?”
Sookie hoped he didn’t notice what had to be a cheeky grin – of course she knew the date. She had to give him credit, though, since he was definitely putting some effort into whatever it was he was doing. But three tubs of frostings? For one cake?
Eric shrugged.
“I purchased three of them hoping you would like at least one. And the strawberries… Well, you like them. There is also ice cream in the freezer,” he added proudly.
“Ice cream?”
He could almost see her ears perking up at that.
Sookie darted over to the freezer and, sure enough, there sat butter pecan ice cream in all its delicious glory.
With a squeal and Eric-pleasing haste, Sookie was soon sitting at the table with a bowl, a spoon, an ice cream scoop, and the all-important ice cream.
Knowing that people should be praised when they did a good job, she grinned at the Viking sitting at her table trying not to look too smug.
“Thank you, you did good!”
It wasn’t long before Eric was jealous of the spoon, too.
He sat quietly watching as she obviously enjoyed the treat, and pondered why it was important to him to do these things for her, to please her.
Sure, he easily acknowledged that he’d enjoyed her company more and more these past couple of months, and it hadn’t taken him long to realize he would rather visit with her at this old house than in the club he was enjoying less and less these nights.
A loud, malodorous all-you-can-drink buffet was handy and all, but at the end of the night he still had to shower off the smell as he did not want that miasma to follow him to bed.
Sookie’s house, though, smelled…pleasing. Yes, there were odors of “old lady” and baking and wood and so forth, but Sookie’s sweet scent overrode it all.
His eyes flicked around the kitchen as Sookie bit into whatever a butter pecan was. Perhaps it should be strange that he would be so oddly comfortable in the old farmhouse, but for whatever reason, he was. It was quiet and clean, and certainly much more intimate than the club where he had to maintain a false front before minions and dinner.
He found the differences pleasing.
Eric gave a mental shrug; nothing about this had to make sense, did it? Not really, no matter how often Pam would snicker at him as he left to visit “the little blonde fairy”.
His thoughts were interrupted when Sookie reached for the three cans of frosting.
“Why these three?”
Sookie thought Eric’s indignation was cute.
“Well, you made good choices. This one,” she held up the butter pecan cake frosting, “will be good on another cake but these two will be perfect. We can put some of the cherry vanilla between the layers and cover the whole thing in the dark chocolate. That’ll work out great.”
“Do you know how many different types of cake coverings there are? I barely narrowed it down to these!”
He quirked a brow. “Some of the cherry vanilla? What will you do with the rest?”
“Eat it on pancakes later,” she answered with a grin.
The ageless Viking nodded wisely. He had no clue what she meant but she was smiling and that was good.
They chatted while Sookie put away the ice cream and washed the few dishes now dirtied. Afterward she made herself some coffee and handed him a warmed blood beverage he tended to stock in her refrigerator.
Eventually the cake was baked and cooled and deemed ready to frost.
Absolutely out of his depth, Eric stared in confusion at the off-set knife-looking tool now in his hand.
“Here,” she said as she handed him the cherry vanilla frosting. “Grab up a bunch of frosting with the spreader then smear it around there,” she pointed to the top of the bottom layer of cake.
He hadn’t minded leveling off the cake – using knives was in his blood warm and cold both, after all – but…well…smearing?
“I would rather smear this on you,” he replied faux-seriously with a smirk.
“Eric, hush. Wait, hang on a sec, let me drizzle some of this Maraschino cherry juice on the cake first.”
He thought the red syrup smelled far too much of chemicals to be healthy but stood aside anyway.
Then, he slathered. After leveling the top layer of this convoluted cake and allowing Sookie to repeat the drizzling to her pleasure, he found himself covering the entire cake with the dark chocolate frosting.
He decided he was, in fact, quite good at it.
Naturally.
In short order and absolutely unwilling to wait, Sookie served herself a slice of the newly made cake and tossed a handful of hulled and rinsed strawberries on her plate.
The evening had felt pretty much like every other evening Eric had spent with her – fun, easy going, flirting both gentle and lurid, some teasing, lots of conversation about things that mattered and things that didn’t…but it was also a bit more, somehow.
Sure, there was unexpected cake.
The cake was delicious.
But…it was a Valentine cake, one that she’d had to help make at that, but still, he’d thought of her and brought it to her and had even tried to at least start making it.
For her.
She looked over at Eric and, yes, he looked a bit smug at his obvious success, but he mostly looked comfortable, relaxed – he looked right at home.
A glance at the clock showed it was a little after 1:00 am and so, with a soft smile and warm eyes, she reached over and covered his hand with hers.
“Thank you for a great Valentine’s Day, Eric. You did a great job and I loved it.”
Slowly a true, real smile graced his lips as he turned his hand to hold hers.
“I still want to smear the frosting on you.”
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(The spider tsked and shoved his weary head – hey, spidering was hard work! – into the corner of the wall. Great, the Viking had scored big with Ms. Landlady…great…wonderful…now if they’d just turn off that damn light and go watch a movie…in the other room already!)
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All tsking spider-creatures aside, that’s it, folks. It’s meant to be a brief “scene” showing This Eric and This Sookie takin’ the slow route toward getting to actually know each other. I hope it didn’t suck too badly – my writing fingers are incredibly rusty, but I wanted to give you guys something for you time and support. I’m incredibly lucky for being able to write for the best fandom in the fanfic Universe.
In other news, well, there ain’t none, so there’s that. Excepting the above, FLM is still being her aggravating self but I am dearly hoping that “this” calls her sweet li’l ass back home ’cause it truly aggravates and frustrates me that I’ve left stories unfinished. I know – it’s not like I ever planned for my life to go swirling down the cosmic toilet and that *waves hand vaguely* things happen, but still. It’s not fair to you and it’s not fair to the stories, either. (My bad, totally, for having more than one going at a time instead of holding them until they’re completed BEFORE posting, but I’m not that organized…or sane…)
Anyway, I hope you liked it and feel free to comment below. Hope you have a great Valentine’s/Galentine’s/Palentine’s/Pawentine’s Day! 💗❤️💗
So this post is meant to accomplish three things: words, link, then more words from yours truly. (There ended up being more words than I’d thought there would be, lol – sorry?)
WORDS: First of all I need to tell y’all that your kind thoughts, words, hopes, and well wishes absolutely mean the world to me. I should probably be embarrassed by how often I click over to reread the written evidence of your kind souls, but I’m not. When life gets me down, which it does with amazing and sad regularity, your words lift me up; they make me smile; they make me want to overcome the latest struggles of the day with a grin of “bloody-minded” determination.
Your words have brought me to tears and I ain’t even kidding. It’s a good thing (ok, so my house is dusty but that’s irrelevant, right?). You really are a fantastic group of people.
LINK: A very kind reader let me know a bit ago that the fundraiser link has expired. The thing with PayPal Fundraisers is that they only last a specific amount of time before they auto-close. At that time a new fundraiser has to be created. I’m not technologically sure I can go back and update the old links so, um, here:
A srsly huge batch of kudos to the lovely reader who brought this to my attention. Mongo hugs and thanks, TD!
MORE WORDS: Gotta say, so far this year doesn’t look remarkably different to the past two years. COVID is still covid’ing right along, people are still having to be hospitalized, hospital room and nursing shortages are getting worse in waves here and there, people are still dying, social distancing and viral-aversion rules still apply, stores are still low on the oddest things (saltine crackers?? – weird), that feeling of impending doom is still…dooming right along…
*sigh*
But you know what? We’re humans and we’re…inventive. Creative. Sometimes we’re as dumb as mossy rocks and sometimes we’re as brilliant as the night stars over dark fields. We’re not perfect – more “perfectly imperfect” than anything – but we’ve got guts and determination and a strong sense of “fuck that shit, I ain’t goin’ down without a fight, dammit”. So we’re gonna make it, somehow, some day. We’ll get there.
What we’re experiencing now is most likely the transition to a new normal. I detest that phrase, seems like a cop-out to excuse the bullshit of the moment, but in the long-run, we ARE in the transition phase to a “new normal”, and you know what? That’s ok. If I were healthier, I would be using this time to clean my house of the clutter from my parents’ marriage and my old apt…I’d be organizing, tossing, sorting, donating…all that good stuff. I’d be examining what I actually WANTED to do when avoiding deadly viruses isn’t the Order of the Day. I’d be dreaming of places I wanted to visit or visit again, making lists of the friends I value and making plans to meet up (even though mine all live in my computer), stuff like that.
This is a time for self-focused action, reflection, creation, organization, and other words ending in -ion that bespeak movement, shedding baggage, going forward, plopping down roots (mobile and not) to build on in the future. This is the time to clear off the dust, cut up those empty delivery boxes, take the dog (and, hey, the cat, too, if you’re brave and have lots of Band-aids…) for long walks, writing crappy poetry, changing out that old drawer hardware, sitting near beautiful scenes and relishing the fact that YOU are YOU.
You are precious and are the only version of YOU that has ever or will ever inhabit our Universe. Appreciate yourself for who you are (I certainly do!); celebrate all the extraordinary aspects of yourself; change the bits you genuinely don’t like (fuck society’s perceptions and rules – you know what’s good and holy and right FOR YOU and striving for THAT is what you should do for yourself) – and fuck the rest.
It’s your life; live it as best you can. We are all in differing circumstances. Some of us CAN give the world a ginormous fuck-it annnnd some of us can’t. Some of us CAN flip off the rules and do what we want while others have to at least pretend to follow said rules until times are better. But through it all, you are the only one responsible for your thoughts. You are the gatekeeper to what goes into your heart and mind and soul, so make it FANTASTIC. You ARE beautiful! You ARE brilliant! You ARE capable and able to do the most amazing things with sometimes precious little to work with!! YOU are miracles made real with dirty feet and stars in your eyes!
Fuck the world – celebrate YOU.
And that, my friends, is a hell of a lot of words, lol. I hope they helped you to feel even a little of the kindness, comfort, and joy that your words have given me.
Y’all are the best.
~Mer
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This year, how about let’s drop all notions of silly things like “resolutions” or “plans” and just huddle in our jammies in a blanket fort (heated or a/c’d depending on your location) with a good book and a cup of something eminently sippable, yeah?
When I was a kid I was always soooo excited to stay up and “watch the ball drop” ’cause there was some sort of indefinable magic associated with The Coming of the New Year!!
Now? Yeah, not so much. There will be no resolutions or plans and staying up to watch the ball drop? Nah, probably not. Damn thing never bounces anyway…
New Year’s Day or Eve or whatever. Yay. So like is everything gonna ALLUVASUDDEN change because the date on the calendar did? And if it DID change, would it even be for the better??
Between all the old, new, and future COVID variants and associated and/or unassociated health, financial, and weather disasters… there are just too many disasters running rampant for me to have any hope for that. It ain’t like THOSE things will suddenly disappear.
*sigh*
Oh, 2022, I’d love to have oodles of faith in you and your magic but…
Srsly. Don’t even look it in the eye…
Eeenyway, what about y’all? What are your New Year’s plans? The night of, the day after, etc.? Are y’all gonna bother with resolutions and plans and hopes and such?
Also, here is a place to tell us about the GOOD things that happened to/for you this year. Acknowledging the bad is necessary for reality and mental health but we can ALSO acknowledge – and revel in – the good, too. I hope plenteous good things DID happen for y’all this year. Just because the universe flushed my life down the toilet doesn’t mean that I begrudge you your wins!
LAY IT ON ME, BAY’BE!
Did you kick his/her unworthy ass to the curb? Did you get that book/play/’script published? Did you finally pop that hidey-ass’d “bone deep” zit? Did you finally find a back-scratcher that actually works? Did you manage to get that one specific plant to bloom? Did you meet the love of your life?
TELL US! Let us celebrate with you!
To conclude whatever this was, I really do hope you beautiful, glorious wee beasties have a thoroughly amazing year in 2022.
I hope your personal Universes collectively decide to make up to you for all the bullshit of the last two years. I hope your coffers are filled and overflowing with currencies legal in your area, that all your health problems miraculously resolve themselves, that any family/friend problems do the same. I hope that all who are important to you accept you for the glorious entity that you are, and I hope that your imaginations work overtime to bring light and magic and resolutions and that maybe, just maybe, you will have a truly fantastic year.
I wish for these things myself, and hope that all our wishes come happily, completely, and irrevocably true.
Before I sign off on this wonderment of meandering, I want to thank you for your generosity. Your kindness whether in word or in deed, or in both, means the absolute world to me. When I say that every little/huge/tiny bit helps, I mean it. It means my cats and dog can eat; it means my lights are still on and that I still have internet. It means I owe a bit less to the vets and to the leg people, to the ambulance people and the anesthesia company and the… It means I slept a bit better those nights. It means that you are priceless and beyond wonderful.
Love, coffee, goodwill and a non-shitty 2022 to all,
Also a link but as a pic of my awesome furbebes(the ones who were boarded for over 2.5 months thus the humongo vet boarding fees since I had no one to care for them):
Go hug your pets. Now.
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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:
First of all, y’all made me cry. I would say “shame on you” but these tears were weird…they were from happiness and gratitude and…and good things. I wasn’t quite sure what to do about them but between your amazingly kind words and generous donations, said weird tears were definitely warranted.
So, thank you. Thank you for your kind words. Thank you for clicking on the PayPal link.
But most of all, thank you for caring. Thank you for reading my words and giving a damn about how it’s been going with me. The fact that you care enough to to help with words and donations warms my heart. Our specific community may have dwindled down some, but the hard-core warm souls are still right damn loud and proud. Heh, I knew y’all were the best readers a writer could ever have!
In case anyone missed my last post, this is what I’m talking about:
NOT DEAD BUT NOT BY MUCH… (LOST A LEG AND FOUND MYPASSWORD)
Ok, so y’all know 2020 sucked major ass for a lot of us; well…2021 has sucked major ass, too, for a lot of us (meaning, well, me at least).
Grab a bevvy and a kitty/puppy/iguana, kick back, and peruse the story of how I lost a leg and found my password.
So…2021 busted 2020 wide open and it’s gonna be a great year, right?
*pfft*
Silly me – I don’t *GET* great years.
As the months progressed, I kept feeling worse and worse but it was all so gradual that, between anxiety and depression, I never realized just how bad my health was failing. Sure, I was in a lot of pain and “discomfort”, but then, I’ve always been in a lot of pain and “discomfort”, right, so nothing unusual there. No red flags were noticed; life such as it was went on.
Then the pain started getting markedly worse, especially in my already-partially-amputated left foot. Soon enough every single step caused excruciating pain like red-hot blades stabbing from the front of my foot all the way back.
It also hurt when I wasn’t walking on it.
Keep in mind that:
*I live in the U.S. where healthcare is but a dream if you’re an uninsured mortal… *I suffered from both anxiety and depression… *I know a lot about some aspects of medical care but by far not everything, and… *I am diabetic…
The pain and “discomfort” wore on my nerves so badly that at one point I seriously considered just ending it all.
Instead, because I have cats and a dog, I called 911 (emergency services for my foreign friends) on my ass. The pain, the “discomfort”, the anxiety and the depression really were that bad, but an angel kicked my ass, reminded me of shit, and made me reach for the phone.
I was admitted on Aug. 4th and wasn’t discharged until Aug. 25th. I remember small bits and pieces but most of the first two weeks I was in hospital are a foggy blur.
Amongst other issues, I was diagnosed with Charcot foot and an atrocious UTI. The X-ray of my foot (what was left of it, remember that about 1/3 of it had been amputated in 2017…) showed a tremendous degeneration of bone mass, and apparently I’m one of those people whose mental processes are severely affected by a UTI. The foot had been “hurting a little” until it was suddenly unGodly painful; I had no idea about the UTI except for a little lower back pain but who doesn’t have that?
Anyway, things happened and a body part was removed and another body part was disinfected (no wonder that FLM fled the scene – she must have known what was gonna happen and the horrid little beastie never even told me!) and time passed like my left leg.
When I was released, I had nowhere to go, no insurance therefore no rehab facility, no continuing physical therapy, no place to stay, no family I could call upon, nothing. Even if I had been able to get a ride home from the hospital, I didn’t have a wheelchair I could get to, and even if I had, my house isn’t compatible with wheelchairs and had no one to take care of me.
The reasons for my depression were real and realized.
The angel that guided my hand to my phone provided once again. I’ve been online friends with a group for well over 15 years now (and I cannot believe it’s been that long but it has) and led a member of that group who lives about 2 hours away to pick me up at the hospital and let me recuperate at her house in another state.
She had to acquire a wheelchair and a bedside toilet for my newly single-legged self to use. She provided transportation – 2 hours each way – for me to keep my appointments with the surgeon and then to keep appointments with “the leg guy” – the company recommended for the prosthetic leg.
Fake legs are strange animals. Newly amputated limbs are strange animals. These two animals do not speak the same language…I’m still on crutches.
Phantom pain is real, and it can hurt like a bitch. It can also itch. Right this moment my left toes are hurting. They vacated the premises back in ’17.
Currently I still have swelling at the amputation site and on above (I’m a “below the knee” amputee in that I have 3-4″ of bone below the knee). Doc cut the bone up to that point but was able to save a LOT of back calf muscle which he brought forward to cover the cut bone and sewed to the front of my remaining leg. He was genuinely shocked at how well I did – infection-wise and I guess mentally and emotionally accepting of the new reality – after the surgery.
I don’t miss that portion of my leg. By the end it not only was painful as all fuckout but wasn’t at all dependable. The new leg isn’t exactly dependable but with experience and gradual “downsizing” replacements, it will be. Eventually. Probably.
But at least the fake motherfucker doesn’t hurt.
Anyway, while I was stuck in bed for 3 weeks (a terrible time I just don’t feel like revisiting right now), the only computational device I had was my Kindle Fire. Thank God I had it. Problem was, I couldn’t remember hardly any passwords ESPECIALLY to…here.
I received a review today and that reminded me just how much I like you beautiful, glorious saints, sinners, angels, and demons. So I got bright, checked to see if I had the password saved on my browser – annnnd yup, I do!
Voila! Here I be!
I am still depressed but I’m handling it in a much more responsible way. I am drinking figurative gallons of fluids a day and monitoring for color and “discomfort”. I’m getting around in my house very, very slowly and I can’t do much of anything when I’m “up” except crutch along…slowly, but I’m doing it. I’m focusing on taking my insulin shots when and as I’m supposed to. And I’m freaking the fuck out about hospital bills, vet boarding bills for 2 cats and a dog for Aug, Sept, and over half of Oct, and the cost of this fake leg (they are VASTLY more expensive than you would EVER think). It’s all painfully, extortionately, ludicrously expensive.
But I’m alive, for whatever that ends up being worth.
Thank you for listening, for caring, for wondering where the everlovin’ fuck I am, and for reading. You guys are a bright light in darkened days, the memory of better times, and the hope that they’ll return someday.
TL;DR = LOST A LEG AND FOUND MY PASSWORD…
If you can and if you want, I do have a PayPal donation site thingie, and ANYTHING and EVERYTHING is very much appreciated.
Ok, you can go pee now and maybe think about letting the doggie out and giving the kitty cats some treats. Cats love treats. Wait, so do I…am I a kitty now? Don’t forget the iguana.
Love, peace, and paper towels,
~Mer
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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
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*although updates will be mysteriously appearing sooner than later along with the ubiquitous gripe/complain section*
Whether you’re celebrating? observing? American Thanksgiving, Turkey Day, or just-plain-Thursday, I hope you’re surrounded by beloved family, friends, and pets, that all those dearest to you are hale, whole, and hearty, that you genuinely do have much to be thankful for, and that you have a fire in your heart and antacids for the one in your belleh from eating way too much.
Maybe that last bit’s just me…
Hearts and stuffin’,
~Mer
**PS: And you gotta know that Eric’s wee li’l spider is all full, fat ‘n happy in the corner of Gran’s kitchen where she’s turned out the most amazing Thanksgiving dinner ever complete with *two* different pumpkin and *two* different pecan pies (she’s in an experimenting mood, you know), and this year she even made her company-quality cherry-almond torte ‘special for Lala (an’ Jason don’t-mind-if-he-do…he’s good like that). She invited him to join her an’ Jason because she didn’t want him to be alone, and she’s missin’ Sookie somethin’ awful. It’s sad that she’s surprised by just how much she’s missin’ that girl and hopes she can see her soon. Jason, well, he’s always been a bit smarter than he wanted people to figure out so he’s watchin’ the proceedin’s with an “it’s about time” gleam in his pretty, pretty eyes…but that ain’t stoppin’ his elbow from bendin’, though…not much would, come to think… Lala’s noticing and thinking the same things just with more cussin’ involved, and while he’s appreciative of the invite – Gran’s a fantastic cook, after all, and cooks do get right tired of cookin’ their own eats after a while – he’s glad that Gran somehow managed to figure a few things out about life before it’s too late. Now, about that cherry-almond torte…
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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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Addicted to Godric...Eric...Andre...(Sevrin) 