so tired

I got a new job (yay) and with new job comes fluctuating hours until I am “trained” enough to deal with the duties that need to be dealt with. Because of New Job, our lives have been strange trying to get into the groove of this.

Jamie’s schedule, at least for now, is pretty set in stone. So, the last 3 days was us getting up at 2 am to get to work by 4 am and leave anywhere between 1.30 and 4 pm. Day before yesterday, Jamie got a call as soon as we got onto the interstate asking if he could come back later and work 6 to 9 pm, which he did.

Because of this schedule, this means that we’ve been very…limited to what we can do at the house. Dogs get let out, pets get fed–these are musts because they’re living animals who depend on us (and I don’t want to clean up pee from the floor or get smothered by a cat in my sleep because I forgot to check if he had food). But, the scant few dishes we’ve used up were just thrown in the sink and not washed, laundry got piled into the laundry tote and food has been something akin to “it’s a peanut butter sandwich, throw it in a bag and let’s go.”

Yesterday, I walked past a coworker who asked why I wasn’t my usual chipper self (because I am back at Store…Store that I was at a year and a half ago) and I told her that it’s because I am on Day 3 of having two 2 o’clocks in one day and we’ve been up anywhere between 18 and 20-some hours every day just because of work schedules and whatnot.

Yeah, I realize that some people are like this all the time and some people work double shifts all the time and hey, more power to you. For real.

But I cannot do this. Doing things like this makes my hallucinations more noticeable to me, makes the hallucinations more frequent, and makes my bullshit meter go down a lot. I begin making mistakes, like misreading the time or getting sticky labels stuck on other sticky labels. It starts out as ridiculous stuff and I know that it will just continue to devolve until terrible mistakes are made, and I just can’t have that.

Jamie and I got home yesterday at about 4.30 and decided we’d sit down for a bit and then get up and begin doing housework. He sat down and I let the dogs out. Hobbes came back inside, but the neighbor was outside and walking his bigger dog (they have this beagle mix type hound dog and a teeny little chihuahua looking dog).

Firefly somehow managed to squeeze herself underneath the fence and the dirt to run across the street to sniff the dog and…almost got hit by a car. I yelled at her and by the time I had gotten out of the backyard, the car that almost hit her had stopped in a dog-recreation of Home Alone where the van stops right at Kevin’s face while he’s screaming. The guy asked if it was our neighbor’s dog, he said no it was mine as I’m running down the driveway to get to her.

Firefly is super lucky she didn’t get hit by a car and super lucky our neighbor doesn’t have leash reactivity. The dog just stood there like “what the fuck” while Firefly sniffed at her and I took off my jacket to tie around her neck to lead her back to the house. I was fully expecting the neighbor’s dog to be all “NOPE” and snark at Fly (if that happened, Fly deserved some snark for the shit she pulled) and walked Firefly back into the house holding onto the jacket and having to walk her with her between my legs. I told her she was a bad dog and if that guy had hit her, I was going to tell him to just go and leave her there (it’s an empty threat. I would’ve freaked the fuck out. But, since it didn’t happen and my damn stupid dog isn’t injured, I get to chide her for being a damn stupid dog). The entire time I was thinking that at least it wasn’t Hobbes.

Got the dogs inside, let them just hang out in the house and came out to find that Jamie’s work gloves are destroyed and Cricket ate one of my pairs of underwear. We put them up, sat down for a few and I went fuck this, I’m going to bed.

I slept for 16 hours.

At some point, Jamie got up and made Waffles. I keep telling myself that I’m going to go back to sleep because I’m tired and a little bit ago I found myself trying to adjust my eyeball because I didn’t have my glasses on and I have no idea where they’re at (and I’ve been up for just barely more than an hour)


subconscious planning

I had a dream where I was trying to pitch a novel to a very suspicious editor.

I was describing the story as “It’s ______ meets The Man From U.N.D.E.A.D.” (I can not for the life of me remember what the other novel was). I remember continuing with describing one of the characters as: “A grumpass old wizard, who’s kind of like a mix between the animated Merlin from Sword in the Stone and Ponder Stibbons” before going on a tangent about how that was the best wizard to compare him to in the Discworld as his luck isn’t as bizarre as Rincewind’s, he doesn’t go total librarian-poo when people mess with his books, he’s not as looney as the Bursar, and not as outdoor-lifestyle-obsessive as the Archchancellor. I seem to remember pointing out that this wasn’t The Dreseden Files because I can’t remember if I ever got past the first page of the first book.

I ended up texting a friend of mine, who’s finding it hard to finish up her smut story (it’s well over 100k words right now), and telling her about it. She thought it was hilarious and started telling me about a vampire story she was thinking about working on. She was very adamant that it wasn’t Twilight and described something that seemed close to a scene from the Interview with a Vampire film, which she fervently denied, pointing out it was more modern-day high school like.

She continued to describe some of her idea and I asked her if she’d ever read Blood and Chocolate since part of her idea sounded like what I remember from the beginning of the book. Apparently vampires and werewolves are involved and she’s stuck on plot. I suggested she just work on a scene that sounds interesting and go from there.

I find the whole thing hilarious because I’m not intending for this idea to become a novel. I’m just pecking away at a scene (currently 538 words) in a universe I started in a short story I finished before and found that it would be fun to flesh out the characters a bit more.

I have no plot. I have no villain.

I have a character with a Franken-dog having a conversation on the phone that is turning into a “please don’t be weird and scare the new people” lecture.


On…some day last month, an editor posted a thread on Twitter about rejection from their magazine. They pointed out that there is a 4 in 400(+/-) chance of receiving a letter of acceptance for your fiction short story and pointed out why: An author (not named) had apparently complained about how they’ve been rejected by that particular magazine 3 times and that’s it, they’re never submitting anything again.

I found the whine/pouting kind of ridiculous, thinking of all the times various authors I’ve listened to (panels, interviews, etc) or read (interviews, blog posts, etc) mention how many times they were rejected before something, anything, was accepted. I re-tweeted the first of the thread and pointed out that one day I’ll be brave enough to submit to this magazine. I got a reply that pretty much told me to go for it.

So hell, why not. The worst they can do is send me a “Thanks, but your story doesn’t work for us” email. It took a few hours to look for a story I finished but hadn’t posted to the blog (I’m pretty sure I shared “Just Delicious,” but I can’t remember and there’s not a link on the “stories by me”  sub-header), double check their submission requirements, format the story as per submission requirements, double check on how to write a cover letter which turned into something short, sweet, and to the point (because, really, I have no information besides: Here is the story, Here is the word count, Here is where I think it goes in the range of fiction genres, Thank you for your time)

Submissions for that magazine was open (yay! Last time I had looked they were closed), I submitted my story. Probably gave it a crap name (because on the computer it still has the WIP name I gave it), and waited. I got the email saying the submission doohickey was in the queue and here is a link. Ooooooo

I think the best part about the whole thing was checking the link to see where I was in the queue of submissions. I started out at number 590, and yesterday I was number 50.

This morning I received the email I was expecting: Thanks, but your story is not for us.

That’s cool. It’s more of a weird speculative fiction piece taking an idea and running with it. It’s definitely not going to be everyone’s cup of tea. And, I’m pretty sure that there were a couple pieces that really grabbed the editor’s attention, so more power to them.

I figure 2 things:

  1. On to the next story!
  2. I can always submit it elsewhere and see what happens.


kind of laughable

I had an interview with Victoria’s Secret the other day. Granted, I didn’t apply to the shop, I applied to a sister company. Jamie found the whole thing hilarious and I figured hey, why not. The most that’ll happen is they’ll tell me they’re going with someone else.

So, I walked into the store for the first time in my life.

While waiting for the “group” interview (2 of the interviewees didn’t show up so it wound up being just me and a bubbly girl who was very enthusiastic), and wondering how a company managed to con women into believing that lace was comfortable for an undergarment, I found myself face-to-face with a giant screen of runway models.

For most people, I’m assuming, going into Victoria’s Secret, the constantly playing runway show is just background distraction while they browse. I found myself wondering how they make the wings. And wing-like things (there was one model stomping down the runway wearing a giant double-bow on her back in lieu of wings)

I don’t remember seeing if they were wearing some sort of harness or straps, but I know it got me thinking of the wings themselves. Do they use wire? Piping? There needs to be enough strength to hold its shape and not flump over, but light enough to give enough bounce slightly with each step.

I am curious as to how they make them. It’d be something neat to learn.

I didn’t get the job, however. I recieved an email stating they were going with someone else and I’m hoping that the bubbly girl got her wish of working with them.

various things

+ I made…3 shawls in the last couple weeks of September. I’ve completed one so far now and have started another one because I found a skein of yarn I forgot I had and it’ll be fun to see how far I get and compare it to the “Neapolitan Shawl” that I made a couple months previous (they’re the same brand so it’ll be neat to compare).

I’ve been sharing photos of it on Instagram.

+ I decided to do Inktober this year. I found 2 different prompts and decided to do both: the one from the Inktober website and one called 31 Witches. So far I’m keeping up with it–granted it’s only the 4th, but hey, that’s 8 sketches done!

I’d decided to do non-serious 2-minute sketches and see if I can just use pen/ink instead of my usual pencil-then-ink process. I’m posting them to the comic-blog that I started if you’d like to check them out. I’m having fun with it.

+ I found that there is a limit to how many times you can apply to Bath and Bodyworks, and that number is 5. I find it hilarious. (there’s a local B&BW that has a number of various positions open)

+ I started reading The Mammoth Book of Vampire Stories By Women and…yeah. Totally not for me. (the title page has the “by women” part italicized and I found it hilarious). Skipped the first story (not a fan of Anne Rice), read the second one and went “WTF” and was about to skip the rest of it when it ended. Started on the 3 story and got a couple pages (via kindle) in and noped out of it and now I’m on story number 4, it’s about an established character that the author has and…I don’t know. I’m finding myself less and less interested in it.

I like vampire stories. I like different takes on the vampire (from rotting corpse to bored, non-sparkly “teenager” determined to find someone to spend eternity with), but I could really do without the descriptions of a vampire-like creature molesting a kid (yeah, that happens in story number 2). I have more enjoyment out of the half-thought paragraphs that show up on my tumblr dash involving vampires than this book.

+ Jamie threatened to get me a cat yesterday. A few short hours after Carrot, one of our youngest cats (one of 2. He and Beric are about the same age) decided he wanted to lick the bowl of waffle-mix from the night before and broke a plate and one of Uggs’ ceramic cat food dishes. This happened two days after I found that he’d cracked my glass pitcher and my “eat, drink, and be spooky” mason-jar glass.

I swear, that cat gets into everything.

I told Jamie we can’t have more cats because Carrot and Mewkis are like having 4 cats on top of the cats we already have. He agreed, saying that if he were to pick another cat, he’d end up with another one like them. He’s the one who picked Carrot (well, he picked the other orange kitten and we wound up with Carrot), he picked Mewkis, and he’s the one who picked Faustus. I got conned into adopting Beric (my foof-monster) and I’m the one who conned Jamie into letting me keep Snooch.

They’re a weird bunch of cats, but they’re ours. And, for the most part, they live pretty well together. Uggs isn’t thrilled by it, but now he’s been staying in the bedroom and likes it that way, even if all the other cats are up and the door’s open. He’ll stay in the bedroom and sleep the day away.

We survived September

Now we need to survive October (and beyond)

The Saga of Car

Jamie was gifted a car, a little non-descript Kia (which we described to people as “the perfect serial killer car if it didn’t sound like Claptrap.”) the day that his truck had died. We’d ended up having problems with it ever since, replacing the battery and alternator twice, the belts at least four times, the water pump, and something else. We dumped a lot of money into this little car.

The car died a block and a half away from our house, on train tracks. Thankfully we had just enough inertia to roll to the side of the road, after the tracks, and annoy drivers/traffic for about 20 minutes until the tow truck could come. We had to call a tow truck because we couldn’t push it up the hill.

We were able to borrow Jamie’s mom’s car, it made a weird noise, and died in our driveway. Come to find out, the battery was 2 years overdue for a change. We walked to AutoZone, with the battery, and were stopped and given a ride by some really awesome people. Battery was completely dead, we bought the cheapest battery we could, and trekked back (and a guy insisted on taking us the rest of the way, it was super awesome). Replace the battery, it runs for a day, and dies again in the driveway (thankfully). Alternator’s dead, battery’s dead. The windows are half-rolled down and the next day it rains, of course (but! I was able to figure out a way so that none of the electrical stuff got ruined)

Jamie ends up having to ride the bus to work a couple of times and get rides home from his mom before his dad brings his step-sister’s car down so he can use it. The car works and we’re back in action. Woo!

Until last week.

Jamie left for work, in the step-sister’s car, and an hour later, I hear this loud thump-thump-thump on the back door. It’s Jamie. The car has died on the way to work, thankfully he was able to pull into a parking lot and the guy who owned the shop he pulled into helped him troubleshoot the car. It might be the pump, we’re not sure. So he walked home, started the Kia and the Kia worked. Woohoo. He had called work to say he was running late because of car troubles and gets to work an hour after he was supposed to be there.

When he gets off, he decides to not go on the interstate, but by the truck route. 30 minutes after he’s gotten off, I expect him to walk in the door any minute. 45 minutes, I figure he’s run into some traffic. An hour later and I’m wondering where the hell he’s at.

His phone had died and turned into a paperweight, so he had mine. My phone didn’t have any service on it because I had to wait a few days for payday to be able to buy a service card and the only way we could talk to each other was through wifi on the phone and FB messenger. Two hours later, he stomps into the house, saying he can’t stay and he’s only here for a change of clothes, toothbrush, and deodorant. He’s going to be staying at his mom’s place so he could get to work in a few short hours.

Jamie continues to tell me that the Kia died on the truck route and is in an abandoned parking lot. He had to walk from there to his mom’s house and he was pissed.

The next day, he gets a ride home from his mom and I’m texting our friend T to see when she gets off work and if she can run us to the step-sister’s car and put gas in it because I think it’s out of gas (the guage is messed up so it’s probable). She agrees and soon we find our way to the lot. Jamie puts gas in the car, it turns on, and we go to Sheetz (closest gas station). T and I are talking about various things and Jamie asks her to drive behind him just in case the car dies, she agrees.

We get the car to the house and she goes home. The next morning, we decide to do much-needed grocery shopping and the car works. We get up to the store, shop, put everything in the car and…it won’t start. Jamie’s frustrated, I’m frustrated, and I call a cab to go home. We got the non-huge items back into the buggie (all the meat/cold stuff and everything that wasn’t cat/dog food, toiletries, flour, and fabric softener).

We get home. Stuff happens.

The next day, Jamie wants me to ride the bus to work with him and I do. We’re standing at the stop and a guy slams on his breaks and waves to us to cross. I’m scrolling through my phone-turned-mp3-player (it’s an old Verizon phone) and Jamie’s texting a friend of ours on my phone. The guy behind the car goes around him and the car tries to hit him and then starts screaming obscenities at the truck, screaming that he was trying to be nice and whatnot.

We get to the stop we need and go off shopping for a handful of things that I can shove into my backpack and a canvas bag so I can ride the bus back home. Jamie finds a phone he can use and he goes off to work while I finish shopping. stuff happened.

A few short days later, Jamie had the day off so we got a cab ride to the Honda place on Peters Creek. We weren’t able to get a car there, so we started walking up the street to the First Team. We ran into our buddy Matt, which is fucking awesome and a random occurence. He offered us a ride for the rest of the way, because he was waiting for his testing time to start, and telling us that he’s being shipped to South Korea at the beginning of the year. He dropped us off and we agreed to have dinner with him one night before he leaves and goes to the next base he’s been assigned to for a few months.

We end up not being able to get a car at the First Team place. I call a cab to pick us up and have been told it’ll be 35-45 minutes. We go across the street, where I asked them to pick us up at, to wait, and waited an hour and a half. No one showed up. We walked across the next street to the Kroger so I could use the restroom and we could get some bottled water. Jamie’s super irritated by now, but he’s found a small used car place about a 10-minute away from where we were.

He calls a cab (a different company) to come pick us up and we wait outside. Cab picks us up and the driver is like “are you sure it’s up here?” and 2 minutes later, there it was. He dropped us off and Jamie is determined to get a car, saying we are not leaving until he gets a car.

We walk around the dusty lot (it’s this little lot in Botetourt that’s all gravel, of course it’s going to be a little dusty) and Jamie finds the two cars he saw on the website. We go to talk with the guy and he tells us that the first choice, a little ’95 jeep, is not for sale because there’s something wrong with the engine. Ok, that’s cool.

He gives the keys to the little Nissan that Jamie saw and just says if Jamie’s interested in driving it, just drive it up to the door. I gave the guy Jamie’s license so he could make a copy of it and soon Jamie comes walking in. The power seating is dead in the little Nissan and Jamie can’t reach the steering wheel.

The guy tells us that there’s nothing he can do about that and to walk around again and see if there’s anything else we’re interested in.

Eventually, we found 3 more potential cars and come back to the guy. Jamie’s first choice is the keys that the guy hands us, so we walked to the car and Jamie sets the alarm off. (of course the one car that isn’t locked that we’ve looked at has an alarm on it). He gets the car unlocked and can’t get the alarm to stop for a few long seconds (it felt like 5 minutes but was probably 30 seconds). We get in, drive up to the door, and Jamie’s like fuck it, I’m getting this car.

He fills out the paperwork, calls the bank to approve the amount, and we drive home with the car. The next morning, we go up to his dad’s house and his dad checks out the car, admiring the honesty of the guy who sold us the car and the fact that they didn’t try to hide anything. There’s a patch of rust on one of the back doors, little aesthetic things that can easily be fixed. But, it’s a good car and so far has worked.

After we got back into town (it survived the trip of Roanoke to Dublin and back, a huge plus), we went to the store where his step-sister’s car is and got everything out of the car that we needed and got home. Jamie’s dad thinks that it’s a pressure thing going on with one of the caps in the car and that’s probably why it’s acting up. He said he’ll be able to look into it when he recovers from feeling like shit from being sick.

This was September.

So I’ve been re-watching Sailor Moon

Sailor Moon holds a special place in my little black heart. It’s not the first anime that I watched (it’s a tie between Bastard and Akira, both of which I haven’t seen in a very long time and should re-watch soon), but it’s one of the first anime titles that I remember actively seeking out.

I remember catching it the first time it came on television in my area and being pulled into this bizarre world of storylines longer than one episode. I remember sitting there watching the first episode, with this huge crybaby as the lead, and my dad grumbling behind me, playing solitaire on the computer, wondering why I would watch something so stupid. I remember him getting hooked by episode 3 and, not too long later (during the first run of Sailor Moon R I think), him getting me hooked onto Ronin Warriors.

It was a different time back then. Dad still swore up and down that he was 12 and “never growing up,” it was before Mom was diagnosed with MS, and, hell, RoaVa Con/Sheva Con still existed (and you could go watch the SCA beat the shit out of each other on the grounds of one of the local high schools). Dad and I still talked, Halloween-dot-com still had their really awesome set-up and I found so many wonderful ghost story pages (like The Shadowlands, which I still occasionally go on), The Bone Garden Estate (currently cannot find a link to it. aww, damn), and so many pagan and wicca pages to print things off from.

I watched the show, followed it from station-to-station/channel-to-channel, watched the repeated runs of the series while waiting for the next installment. Dad had a running pull-list of the manga through a local bookshop (sadly no longer around. I miss Perdue’s. it was awesome and quirky as hell), and at some point paid “a work friend” who was going to a con at Virginia Beach to get him the entire series on VHS, including the “never before seen” ones. He never got them. (he was given an excuse along with an Usagi pin).

Years have passed and occasionally I’d think about the series. A couple of years ago, I’d decided to re-watch the series and found the Live Action version. It was a lot of fun and I like how they did the transformations and how they worked around Luna.

And then, I don’t know, like a week ago? I decided screw it, I’m going to sit and re-watch from the beginning. I’d found a handful of episodes of the Starlights series, but I wanted to find the first one. This caused me to think more of just re-watching the whole thing. It’s a fun series and I enjoy it. I ended up talking to a friend about it while I found somewhere online that showed the episodes. She asked if I was watching it subbed or dubbed, and if dubbed–was it the original dubbing?

I’d told her I found the original dubbing and was watching that. Hey, why not? Let’s have a small nostalgia quake.

Watching the original dubbing all the way through, from the first to the last episode of SuperS, was…kind of strange. I had completely forgotten why I hated Rini so much (in S her voice is great, in SuperS, her voice is like nails on a chalkboard that give me a migraine), I found it hilarious when the voice actor changed for Serena and did not remember noticing this years ago.

Now, I’m in the Sailor Starlights series. The last series. I have 15 episodes left and I don’t know if I’m going to go for Crystal (I hear it’s terrible). I’m a couple episodes in from the introduction of Chibichibi and found myself on the Sailor Moon wiki looking up who she really is, because I couldn’t remember. (and it’s been a long time since I’ve read any of the manga).

I realized that I am farther along the series than my dad ever will be. He can’t do subbed anime due to his severe dyslexia. And, I don’t think he’d appreciate the Starlights anyway (for reasons)

I’ve jotted down notes of costumes I’d love to make if I ever got around to it and it’s been great background noise while I knit (which is hard to do when I’m watching the sub). I’m glad I made the decision to re-watch this. It’s still a fun series, I still really enjoy it, and I still really want a Wicked Lady costume.