Wednesday, June 18, 2014

Life should not be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well preserved body.

Perhaps y'all remember me mentioning a couple posts ago my bout with the plague, and the subsequent update about going on a second round of antibiotics.

Two days after I finished the second round of antibiotics, all my symptoms came back, growing progressively worse by the hour. If the pain in my throat and head had not gotten so severe, I probably would have just done like I always do and ignored the illness until either it went away by itself or it killed me. But when you have difficulty swallowing and breathing because your throat is so sore and swollen, that's kind of a problem.

I went back to the doctor. After not much of an examination, Doc (the THIRD doctor I had seen at this new place) was like "oh you just have allergies," and sent me on my merry way.

I know I am not allergic to the outdoors because the congestion actually gets a lot better if I am outside. I also know I am not allergic to my cats. With an allergy to something like spring or animals, the symptoms tend to improve a bit when you are nowhere near the source of said allergies.

My symptoms did not go away. Ever. They just got worse and worse every day that I continued to be ill. (it's been a f**king month like seriously)

As I contemplated that, a light bulb appeared in my increasingly fuzzy thoughts.

What causes allergy/severe cold-like symptoms that get progressively worse as time goes on, and symptoms that do not improve if you are away from the cause of those symptoms? You'd think I would have come to this conclusion earlier, as I have suffered this before.


I did a thorough search of the apartment. Lo and behold, the very back of the fireplace was pretty well covered in mold.

As of last Friday, I have been staying at Mum's because my health had deteriorated to the point where I needed to be within easy driving distance of a hospital, and also needed to be around people with access to vehicles in case I needed to get to said hospital. 

As of now (Wednesday) I am gradually getting better. I still spend most mornings having coughing fits and hacking up the mushroom colony that is likely growing in my lungs. Landlord has not only fixed the mold situation, they are also doing some kind of renovations to the side of the house to try and prevent that side of the house from getting so damp. I am hoping my symptoms will have fecked off by the weekend so I can move back home.

On the plus side, my proper doctor has given me vitamins* in both pill form and cough syrup form. It's good craic.

On the down side, since I am a walking biohazard, I have to miss the LGBTQ parade on Sunday. Our church is handing out cold beverages and snacks for free because it is hellishly hot out and anyone parading around in the sun is going to need it. Also we want to be an example of what Christianity SHOULD be about--love and acceptance for all, and not judging others. So if any of y'all happen to be in the Warwick, NY area this Sunday, there will be free food and drink at the Warwick Assembly of God.

Until next time.............

Tuesday, June 10, 2014

People incapable of guilt usually do have a good time.

Several years ago, it was customary in my group of friends to throw a surprise party whenever it was someone's birthday. (Something that always perplexed me, since everyone would then know for certain that their birthday would result in a surprise party, thus rendering said party not much of a surprise.)

My bff M's personality is such that when he gets it in his head to do something, or when he is annoyed about something, absolutely nothing can stop him from being as contrary as humanly possible.*

On his birthday this one year, for whatever reason, M felt like being extra contrary.

As I was his BFF, our friends decided it was my job to make sure he arrived at his sister's house at a certain time for his surprise party. M. and I hung out during the day, and then when evening came, I suggested we head over to his sister's place to meet up with a few other peeps and decide where to go for dinner.

M decided no, he did not like that plan, and instead he wanted to just go straight to Pizza Hut for dinner without anyone else. Since M was the one driving, I could do nothing but sit in the passenger seat and grow increasingly anxious about the fact that we would not be arriving at his sister's house when we were supposed to so everyone could surprise him for his birthday party.**

He knew that a surprise party awaited him. I tried. I really tried. I never said a word about it, but he knew. Five minutes after we were supposed to have been at his sister's house, she called him. He answered, and from what I gathered she told him he should come over so we could all go out to dinner together, but M. wasn't having any of it.

Then his sister's BFF called me and told me off for ruining everything, at which point I said you know there's really nothing I can do--M is driving.

We eventually met up with everyone else at his sister's house later on, although by then they were all less than enthusiastic about celebrating M.'s birthday. M. later admitted to me that he purposely did all of that to piss everyone off. For no reason other than he felt like it.

In other, sadder news, Rik Mayall has died. I'm very upset.

*Side story: I had a dream once that my friends and I went antique shop hopping out in the country somewhere, and all of a sudden the world turned apocalyptic. The apocalypse was headed straight for us (zombies, planes with bombs, etc.), and we all panicked and were like we need to run somewhere safe LIKE NOW. But M was admiring something in the antique shop, and could not be persuaded to leave. Like for reals, planes were bombing everything around us and we were all like WE NEED TO GET IN THE CAR AND FLOOR IT OUTTA HERE ASAP, but M would not abandon his shopping. This sums up his personality far better than any other description I could possibly give.

**In New Jersey, back when I was in high school, we took drivers' ed sophomore year and if you passed the written test at the end, you got your driving permit. I did not get my permit until several months after I turned 17 (my senior year) because I failed the written test twice. As a result, M was usually the one driving when we hung out. And as a result of his nature, I was late home 9 times out of 10 and would thus be grounded for the next month.

Tuesday, June 3, 2014

Can you see Texas up there on your high horse?

So it's not exactly breaking news that life as a writer is fraught with frustration and disappointment. But there are times when the frustration and disappointment just punch you in the face. Repeatedly.

It was discovered some time ago by Stepmom that an acquaintance of hers is a writer. Said acquaintance is about my age, so *naturally* Stepmom thought we should chat and exchange some writings. So we chatted, and New-Writer-Friend it turns out is working on a science fiction novel. I said that's cool, you should totally send me some of it, I'd love to read it. 

Then New-Writer-Friend goes on to tell me that even though a lot of people have been discouraging as far as following the dream to write a novel, New-Writer-Friend is not going to just give up. Oh no, New-Writer-Friend is going to devote their full time to writing this book.

As in, quitting a paying full time job to take the time to finish writing the novel.

I have heard of other people doing this, and it INFURIATES me. Mainly because I don't understand how they are doing this. Take New-Writer-Friend as a perfect example: the significant other of New-Writer-Friend is neither independently wealthy nor making a ton of money at work. Their parents are not wealthy either, and are also not willing to support them.


As if that isn't frustrating enough to hear, I finally sat down about a week ago and started reading New-Writer-Friend's book.

It's awful.


The characters are ridiculous and not developed at all, the plot is hanging by half a thread, and the whole thing is practically screaming I WATCH WAY TOO MUCH ANIME. And on top of all that, the writing itself is bad.

Now I would never presume to think I am some amazing spectacular writer deserving of all manner of literary awards, but deep down I do know that my writing is pretty good (most of the time; the rest of the time I think it's trash and I want to cast it into the fire, but that's beside the point). So that fact that people like New-Writer-Friend can quit their jobs, not work, and not worry about it in order to "take time off" to write a novel when their writing fecking sucks makes me want to burn whole countries to the ground with dragon fire.

All of the truly talented writers that I know (and many of you are reading this) have to work damn hard to support themselves (and in some cases their families as well), and we count ourselves lucky if we manage to scrape together two pages of writing in a week out of our limited (or sometimes nonexistent) free time. We work jobs we don't even like and pray that one day we will finish something and edit it to perfection and get it published by some major publishing house and maybe just maybe we will make some money off of it and won't have to work quite as much at the jobs we don't like. 

But the odds are that most of us will never see our work published by a major publishing house. We will work at writing our whole lives and it will never pay off, despite our talents. All while people who suck at writing continue to take permanent f*cking vacations to write utter rubbish.

On a side note, my own fiction writing has come to a complete standstill. I need a drink. Or twenty.

......And people wonder why so many of the world's greatest writers turn into completely insane drug addicts and alcoholics who eventually kill themselves.

ALSO speaking of how not-awful my writing is, I have entered Amazon's Breakthrough Novel Contest. If you leave me spectacular reviews, you shall be rewarded. 
Idk how, but I'll think of something.