Sunday, June 19, 2016

Sum of the parts

It's always a sad thing when celebrities of any sort pass away.  We, as the spectators, may not have known them or have even met them, but we feel the loss.

Anton Yelchin passed away early this morning.  He was in Fright Night 2 and played Chekov in the newest Star Trek movies.  I enjoyed watching him on the screen.  I thought he did a great turn as Chekov.  And as someone who watched the originals, that's saying something.

It's easy to say that we "love" this celebrity or that.  I love that actor.  I love that writer.  I love that artist.  And some people don't take that in the way its meant.
I don't say that I "love" anyone of this ilk because I have an expectation of time, money, or anything else from said object of love.  I use the word "love" because something that this person has done has touched me.  It's really quite simple.

I bawled like a baby when Jim Henson passed away.  I remember watching the Muppets do a tribute to him and just sitting there with tears rolling down my face.  He's what my childhood is made from.  I love the Muppets.  I love Sesame Street.  It's so woven into my earlier years that I felt that keen sting of loss deeper than I might with someone else.

When Prince passed, I felt melancholy.  All those high school days came back with a flash.  Times in college when I blasted his music.  Buying a 45 at the local Walmart because I HAD to have that song.  The scandal when "Darling Nikki" came out.
But when Alan Rickman died, I went into a minor tailspin.  Everything that I ever watched him in was simply amazing.  Not to mention that the Harry Potter movies were the kids' and my thing to do together.  We always made time to go together and watch them all.
I loved him in "Die Hard", Robin Hood: Prince of Thieves" (only he could make me laugh as he's trying to force himself upon Maid Marion), and, of course, his turn as Severus Snape.  It took me nearly a week to snap out of it.  He is woven into several pieces of my life.

So while we may not have broken bread with these famous people, we often feel the loss deeply because they're a part of our life in ways that we can't even fathom sometimes.  We're not missing a son, daughter, brother, or sister.  But we're missing the gift of the person's presence.  We're missing the energy and love they brought to bring things to life for us.  Whether it's a movie, book, or art, we are touched by these gifts.  We mourn their loss.  We mourn the emptiness of the space they left behind.
Because we loved them, too.

Saturday, June 18, 2016

Moving on

I'd like to think I'm a linear person most days.
Truthfully, I'm simply not.

I've come to a place in my writing where I've decided to simply publish most of my works.  I work faster than most publishing companies publish, and I like having the control, quite frankly.  So instead of wringing my hands and bemoaning the lack of response by others, I'm going to do what I always do:
Get shit done.

I have my five-book series that is halfway finished.  First two books written with a great deal of the third also jotted down.
Erotic Paranormal.
Contemporary Romance.
Fantasy series.
Philosophical Fiction.
Numerous short stories.
Paranormal Romance.

They don't write themselves.  And I'm not one to wait on others' timeframes.  These works need to be written, and they need to be written by me.

I caught a radio interview with Brad Meltzer yesterday.  And he spoke of an idea he had for a decade before it came to fruition.  But then, and I'm paraphrasing here, he mentioned ideas in general.  He said something along the lines of ideas inhabiting us, but if we don't utilize them, then they will inhabit someone else.
I've always thought this.  It's why I write so close to the chest and don't put out character names and titles unless near completion.  I'm a firm believer in writing what you love and what comes to you.

So I will.
Stay tuned.

Monday, June 13, 2016


After Orlando's attack, I have an incredibly hard time even checking the news or perusing my Facebook feed.  Little pieces of my soul have been chipped off, and I'm a mass of ragged edges.
I've taken to unfollowing a few friends because of thoughtless remarks or rejoinders.  Memes posted against the president.  And some utter fucking nonsense about taking guns.
An assault rifle killed and will continue to kill.


I have several friends who are responsible gun owners.  That's great.  I respect that.  I don't want to take their goddamn guns like they don't want to take my switchblade I carry in my purse.  I do, however, want assault rifles banned.  Period.

And let's talk about the victims.
Forty-nine people lost their lives.  Forty-nine brothers and sisters and sons and daughters.  Forty-nine young people who will never live another day with their families.  I don't give a ripe fuck if they're gay or not.  They are PEOPLE.

What if another lunatic decides to target white woman with blonde hair over fifty with small dogs.  He/she opens fire on them during a meeting.  They're killed because of who they are.
Do you understand now?

What if another lunatic decides to target middle-aged men at the gun range who drive trucks and wear glasses?  They're killed because of who they are.
Do you understand now?

What if another lunatic decides to target young Hispanic women with green eyes who are new mothers?  They're killed because of who they are.
Do you understand now?

What if another lunatic decides to target young black men recently admitted to college taller than six feet?  They're killed because of who they are.
Do you understand now?

I've seen many public faces recognize the lifestyle of these victims.  I've also seen Conservative Republicans whitewash the hell out of it.  I'm done with it.

This was a hate crime.  Pure and simple.  These victims were targeted for who they were, and it's UNGODDAMNACCEPTABLE.


Friday, June 03, 2016

Look, but don't touch.

I like my eyes.  Even though I've had to wear corrective lenses since I was twelve.  They're kind of like my throat.  I know they're there.  But I really don't worry about them.  They do their thing.  I do my thing.  We do things together.  Like my throat.  I eat food.  Drink drinks.  We all go merrily on our way.
Until we don't.

I went to the eye doc in early May for a new pair of glasses.  I absolutely love these frames, by the way.  Thank you, Ben, assistant eye frame picker outer extraordinaire.  But I found out that I have pressure behind my eyes.
So, when I tell you people you make my eye twitch, SEE WHAT HAPPENS???

Anyway, doc set up my appointment for yesterday.  They were going to take four pressure readings.  9:45.  11:45.  1:45.  3:45.
Alrighty then.
I show up at 9:45 a bit stressed.  There's been talk of dilation and tests and poking.  I'm not a fan.  But lo and behold, I'm ushered right in, and she takes the pressure in both my eyes.  It was maybe a minute and a half in the office.  Out I go.
Ran around and finished some errands.  Back at 11:45.  In and out.
I'm liking this.
Started becoming a bit more tired around 1:45 visit.  Haven't been sleeping so great.  But, in and out.
Then I go in at 3:45.
I already knew I couldn't sashay in and out.  They were going to dilate my eyes and whatnot.  So I wait a minute while they pull my chart.  Go back.  Madison takes my pressure reading.  I return to the waiting room.  Then the blonde assistant comes and ushers me back into that room for "tests".
I like tests.  I do well on tests.
I had no idea what any of this was going to entail.

I put my eye on this little lens and looked inside.  Three black dots.  Two big dots on the outside.  Little dot in the middle.  The middle dot was about to put on a magic show.  It would change colors, and I was supposed to click on my clicker anytime I saw it "shimmer".  Oh.  Kay.
Wasn't too bad.  Right eye first.  Then I sat there and hummed a little tune when Ben saw I finished and moved me over to the other eye.  Done with that one in record time.
Then I scooched over this other machine with a tiny black square in the middle.  And I had to focus on it, and whenever I saw the black lines anywhere on the screen (checking my peripherals), I would click my button.  It was five minutes PER EYE.
That's an eternity in eye time.
After awhile, I'm like...did I see those lines?  I think I did. that them over there?  Maybe.  Light, but I think I see them.  So I'm straining my eyes trying to see every one of those damn lines, all the while stressed out that I'm missing like half of them, and my blindness is imminent.
Done with one eye.
Thank God.
On to the other.
My left eye had been shut the entire time, and I said, "Wait!"  Good God.  Let me adjust my eye before I put it on this lens, and you test me.  Criminey, people.  I'm still seeing shadows where there aren't any.
*deep breath*
Left eye.  Started having the same problem toward the end.  Did I actually see those lines?  Am I seeing really light ones?  For the love of God...
Finished.  Finally.
Felt pretty good about that.

Then we walk over to a room where I sit myself down in the chair.  You know the one.  It's all professional eye-checking room.  I tried to sit in one of the regular chairs, but the doctor was having none of that.

Then she said that my numbers looks good.  Pressure was high, but no other damage.  Woot!
She leaves, and Ben comes in to dilate my eyes.
I've NEVER had my eyes dilated before.  At the grand ol' age of forty-four, I'm like...what the what?  He hands me a tissue, and I'm holding it and looking at him like I haven't the faintest, and I ask, "You're going to do something to me, and I'm going to cry?"  He turns and looks at me.  I explain that I've never had my eyes dilated, and he can't believe it.  The blonde is assisting him.  He tells me that he's going to drop some drops in my eyes.  That's it.  I may feel it a little bit.
He holds my eye open, and drops the drops.  Seriously???  That shit burns.  Not like acid, but pretty close.  Then he boogies around to the other side and does that one.  He further explains that the drops will help when they stab me in the eye.
I adore him.
I pointed to the door and told him he had to go.  He laughed all the way down the hall.  I'm sitting there waiting for dilation.  Doctor comes back in and says she wants to check the thickness of my cornea.  Well, shit.  Sure.  Why didn't you say so???
Madison comes back in holding a small green plastic pencil case.  Something that comes out of that case can't be that bad, right???
So.  So damn wrong.
Madison tells me I probably won't like her.  I arch my eyebrow.  I ask why that is.
She's putting MORE EFFING DROPS in my eye.  Not just one...two.  Then she's laughing and says she would pay to see me have lasik done.  (the whole office is sadistic...I love them)
I reply, have you SEEN what they use?  It's like the jaws of life on your EYE!  They hold it open, and it looks absolutely terrifying.
But I digress.
She drops the two drops, and asks me if I'm ready for the other two.  I say, sure.  I had so much fun with the first eye.  Two drops in my left.
Then...THEN...she opens up her little green plastic case and removes something from optometric nightmares.
She explains that she is going to put this contraption ON MY EYE.  And she will keep it there until it gets a reading.  And I should be as still as possible and not move my eye and if I do then they will have to keep doing it.
I'm in hell.
It's this little damn sucker a bit bigger than a contact, and I can see it coming toward my eye, and it makes this HORRIFIC sucking sound when it touches MY EYE.
It took forever in eye time.  So maybe ten seconds.
That is finally done.  The blonde is now going to measure my cornea.  The lights go off to set the mood.  Then she takes this Polaroid camera on steroids (you young people can Google Polaroid...I'll wait) and puts one end on her eye and the other on my right eye.  I'm supposed to stare straight ahead.  And then like these deadlights (yes, a Stephen King reference--this is my eye horror story) are brighter than hell in my eye.  Checking on cornea size.
She gets what she came for.  I feel so used.  Then the lights come back on.  Dr. comes back and says that everything looks good.  Cornea is a little thicker than normal which could be good news since it may be able to handle my eye pressure better, BUT...let's schedule me for some type of optic nerve hoedown since all these tests were horizontal, and now we need a vertical.
Um, excuse me?
I go have my optic nerve jacked with on the 17th.  I'm sure there will be a story there, too.