So, I started writing for this nerd website called The Nerdy Bomb--you should check it out, it's pretty awesome.
Aaaanyways, I wrote an article about my level of righteous anger over the degradation of Harley Quinn's character and outfit over the years, and it has more hits than any other article on the site!!!
For the two of you that read this blog, check out www.thenerdybomb.com. I loves it!
Friday, April 26, 2013
Monday, March 25, 2013
I'm Promising
Lying there, in the dark, my mind arace
with thousands of thoughts and feelings lacing their way through my
mind at a thousand thoughts per second, my hand alighted upon my bare
hip—my thin top having ridden up a bit from constant shifting.
This, I thought, this is one of those lovely poses they find you in
after you've been shot. The detectives come in and snap photos of the
scene, lamenting in a matter of fact way about the loss of another
life. The news reports trickle in at 10 or 11 o'clock, and they
mention something about the loss of this “promising young writer
who had a passion for art and animals.” I stop in my musings—I'm
promising. Egotistical as it
may be, that's the biggest compliment I could receive from someone
regarding my future profession. Promising.
The word rings in my mind like a dainty silver bell. Beautiful,
small, promising in its own right.
"I have
to write this down," she says to herself. "I have to write this down,
I'm promising, after all."
She runs the lines
several times through her head, then reluctantly clicks on the
bedside lamp—half afraid of the sudden burst of light scattering
her thoughts and chasing away the sudden inspiration. Only after
convincing herself of the danger of her cluttered floor does she give
in.
She rushes
downstairs, smoothly, in that ridiculous way she has when she's
trying to hold a piece of work in her mind, as though the slightest
jostling or wrong movement could shake it out of grasp, eternally
lost in the cavern of her mind. She fumbles slightly in the dark,
still new to this home. Her fingers gently come in contact with the
hard, cool plastic of her laptop. She tucks it under her arm and
jumps idly up the stairs to dump her thoughts onto paper and out of
her mind.
Monday, March 18, 2013
I'm a Published Writer!
Typically, Craigslist is not known for their legit job listings...or legit...anything. Don't get me wrong, I've found a couple of great jobs on there before, but I can't tell you how many scams I've had to wade through to find that diamond in the marshes of shit and spam. This time, though, it was different!
Since I've moved to Kentucky, finding a job has been priority "numero uno," as they say somewhere sometimes I think. After an hour or so of mucking about in the Office/Admin job listings, I poked about for S & Gs in the Writing Gigs section. "Calling Fellow Nerds" it read. "What's this?" I thought to my little self, "I'M a nerd! I love nerd stuff!" It was advertising a new website--set to drop this spring--that was specifically centered around nerd stuff of every type and interest. Science, comics, anime, video games, it's covering it all!
Somewhat warily, I wrote back. Writing about what I love, with a dedicated audience? It just sounded too good to be true.
But you guise! It was totally legit! And they totally want me to write for them! Me! Meeeeee!
I met up with the guy starting the site at the Lexington Comic Con this past weekend, then wrote a review for the Con and sent it to him that night. He posted it on Facebook as a note and so far the article is doing pretty well.
The website is www.thenerdybomb.com, and it drops this spring. Thus begins my career as a professional writer!
Since I've moved to Kentucky, finding a job has been priority "numero uno," as they say somewhere sometimes I think. After an hour or so of mucking about in the Office/Admin job listings, I poked about for S & Gs in the Writing Gigs section. "Calling Fellow Nerds" it read. "What's this?" I thought to my little self, "I'M a nerd! I love nerd stuff!" It was advertising a new website--set to drop this spring--that was specifically centered around nerd stuff of every type and interest. Science, comics, anime, video games, it's covering it all!
Somewhat warily, I wrote back. Writing about what I love, with a dedicated audience? It just sounded too good to be true.
But you guise! It was totally legit! And they totally want me to write for them! Me! Meeeeee!
I met up with the guy starting the site at the Lexington Comic Con this past weekend, then wrote a review for the Con and sent it to him that night. He posted it on Facebook as a note and so far the article is doing pretty well.
The website is www.thenerdybomb.com, and it drops this spring. Thus begins my career as a professional writer!
Tuesday, March 12, 2013
Cross Country, Baby!
After years of living the Portlandia lifestyle in a somewhat begrudging manner (no, I do NOT own skinny jeans, and I cannot fathom embracing veganism--even a little bit), I decided to pack up my shit and move to Lexington, Kentucky.
Really, most of this decision had been based on two qualifying factors: 1. I had been working full-time, going to school part-time and nursing my seemingly chronically ill animals back to health on and off again for upwards of 3 years now, and 2. My aunt had generously offered to let me move into the upstairs of her new home, thus providing financial security and a break from the daily grind of "just getting by."
So, I threw my shit into a portable storage unit, shipped it off to my aunt's front door, and threw my 2 cats, 2 dogs, cousin, myself and several suitcases into the back of my Hyundai Accent Hatchback, and started my sixth move in the past three years.
Oh, the dreams I had of the open road! I had traveled cross country once before, but this time we were taking historic Route 66 for much of our trip, and that excited me considerably. California windmills! Sunshine! Quaint mom-and-pop shops! Tacky little roadside attractions with even tackier little souvenirs to remember them by! Diners and people and countryside in the heart of America itself! Even the crappy little dingy truck stop restrooms with fully-stocked condom machines and near-empty hand soap dispensers!
Unfortunately, when you have to travel 3,000 miles in 3 1/2 days, pretty much the only one of these wonders you get to truly experience is the bathrooms. Condom dispensers lose their flash after a while, no matter how many different colors/ribbing styles they offer. By the end of the trip, my dogs looked beyond spiritually beaten, I had the rumpled, unsavory look of a perpetual trucker, and my cats had taken to flipping their litterbox upside down and shitting in their kennel (read: cell of relentless captivity). Even the stray dog at the gas station rejected my attempts at a good deed: he stole my bag of Beggin' Strips after 10 minutes of luring him close enough to put a leash on him and take him to the local animal shelter. We got the treats back, but I still don't think my dogs ever really forgave me.
I started out this trip with a light, bittersweet heart and a day dream about to come true, and I finished it bitter and smelling of cat piss. But, finally, it's over. My stuff is halfway unpacked, my furniture is moved in, and I hopefully won't have to move again for another 12 billion years--give or take. C'est la vie!
Really, most of this decision had been based on two qualifying factors: 1. I had been working full-time, going to school part-time and nursing my seemingly chronically ill animals back to health on and off again for upwards of 3 years now, and 2. My aunt had generously offered to let me move into the upstairs of her new home, thus providing financial security and a break from the daily grind of "just getting by."
So, I threw my shit into a portable storage unit, shipped it off to my aunt's front door, and threw my 2 cats, 2 dogs, cousin, myself and several suitcases into the back of my Hyundai Accent Hatchback, and started my sixth move in the past three years.
Oh, the dreams I had of the open road! I had traveled cross country once before, but this time we were taking historic Route 66 for much of our trip, and that excited me considerably. California windmills! Sunshine! Quaint mom-and-pop shops! Tacky little roadside attractions with even tackier little souvenirs to remember them by! Diners and people and countryside in the heart of America itself! Even the crappy little dingy truck stop restrooms with fully-stocked condom machines and near-empty hand soap dispensers!
Unfortunately, when you have to travel 3,000 miles in 3 1/2 days, pretty much the only one of these wonders you get to truly experience is the bathrooms. Condom dispensers lose their flash after a while, no matter how many different colors/ribbing styles they offer. By the end of the trip, my dogs looked beyond spiritually beaten, I had the rumpled, unsavory look of a perpetual trucker, and my cats had taken to flipping their litterbox upside down and shitting in their kennel (read: cell of relentless captivity). Even the stray dog at the gas station rejected my attempts at a good deed: he stole my bag of Beggin' Strips after 10 minutes of luring him close enough to put a leash on him and take him to the local animal shelter. We got the treats back, but I still don't think my dogs ever really forgave me.
I started out this trip with a light, bittersweet heart and a day dream about to come true, and I finished it bitter and smelling of cat piss. But, finally, it's over. My stuff is halfway unpacked, my furniture is moved in, and I hopefully won't have to move again for another 12 billion years--give or take. C'est la vie!
Tuesday, February 19, 2013
Reasons to Stay
You can always find reasons to stay. The trouble, it seems, is accepting the reasons that say you should go.
That's been mulling itself in my mind for a while now--well, more like various, half-formed versions of that quote have been swirling around in my mind for a few days, never quite settling entirely on the wording, like some sweeping flock of Starlings that can't seem to find a suitable resting place.
You find someone--someone who you could see impacting your life in a way that so few can--and you cling to them. Loneliness, hope, nostalgia of something you once had that you're praying will someday come back--it's not fair to that person, but you can't help but project, you know?
For years now, you've known it's time to move on. Time to stretch your wings and fly away, as the tired cliche goes. You know it's time to leave, time to find a better life, to quit waiting for something to happen while you're making plans for something to happen to you. But still, you try. And you pray. And you hope.
You clutch at the fraying threads of your life, things that seem like they will make it a bit bearable, for a while. Little excuses we make to constantly abate ourselves, to put us in the mind set of "this too shall pass," only it never does, and, after a while, you have to accept the fact that this isn't just a string of bad luck, it's not just a "bad things come in threes," it's not just a "bad year," it's your life, and this is how it's always gonna be, unless you change it. That person you've found, they're not going to fix it. They're the band-aid. They're the disposable umbrella in the hurricane of shit that is your life. You can't hide behind them forever, you can't expect them to make it better. They won't. You have to accept that, in order to have a different life--to have a better life--you have to make choices. Different choices, hard ones. Things that often mean breaking off some of the good things to get away from some of the bad.
Break a few fingers to get away from the trap. So that's what I'll do.
That's been mulling itself in my mind for a while now--well, more like various, half-formed versions of that quote have been swirling around in my mind for a few days, never quite settling entirely on the wording, like some sweeping flock of Starlings that can't seem to find a suitable resting place.
You find someone--someone who you could see impacting your life in a way that so few can--and you cling to them. Loneliness, hope, nostalgia of something you once had that you're praying will someday come back--it's not fair to that person, but you can't help but project, you know?
For years now, you've known it's time to move on. Time to stretch your wings and fly away, as the tired cliche goes. You know it's time to leave, time to find a better life, to quit waiting for something to happen while you're making plans for something to happen to you. But still, you try. And you pray. And you hope.
You clutch at the fraying threads of your life, things that seem like they will make it a bit bearable, for a while. Little excuses we make to constantly abate ourselves, to put us in the mind set of "this too shall pass," only it never does, and, after a while, you have to accept the fact that this isn't just a string of bad luck, it's not just a "bad things come in threes," it's not just a "bad year," it's your life, and this is how it's always gonna be, unless you change it. That person you've found, they're not going to fix it. They're the band-aid. They're the disposable umbrella in the hurricane of shit that is your life. You can't hide behind them forever, you can't expect them to make it better. They won't. You have to accept that, in order to have a different life--to have a better life--you have to make choices. Different choices, hard ones. Things that often mean breaking off some of the good things to get away from some of the bad.
Break a few fingers to get away from the trap. So that's what I'll do.
Sunday, November 25, 2012
People Don't Change
I'm not sure why, but for some reason, people always seem to think that someone will change once they start dating them. Like, they're the magical key to that person's heart, their soul, and their inner "good" personality just waiting to escape.
This is a lie.
A person is going to be a good person, regardless of who they are with. This isn't a fairy tale, it isn't Disney or the movies, where the kiss from a kind-hearted soul will free the prince from his (or her) beastly shape. The person who turns into a good person because of another is not truly being a good person at all. They're being manipulated on a sub-conscious level by their own mind and their personal wants and desires. They become what they think the other person wants them to be, so they change themselves so they can appeal to their prince/princess. They don't suddenly grow independent, or loving, or stop being a cheater. It's just not the way life works.
So many people go through life looking for "the one," that person who can fix everything and make it all better. The one that they can live happily ever after with. It's an awful, tragic belief to get trapped in, because it's never going to happen. Not if that person ends up being someone who you think will change when you get together. I know this from experience.
When I was 18, I got married and ended up getting trapped in a bad relationship. Not as bad as some, worse than was healthy. I knew that if I didn't get out, things would get worse and worse and worse until they ended (and not well), and eventually I left him. But--much to my regret--not before having an affair with a guy I had been in love with since high school. He was smart, funny, and was sympathetic and could identify with my troubles.
It was a terrible choice--I destroyed a lot of friendships and hurt a lot more people. I tried to make it work--first with my husband, then, after my divorce, with the guy I cheated with. The latter ended up not exactly being the shining star he seemed to be to me for so many years. He was angry, cruel and made a lot of bad choices while convincing himself it wasn't anything he had caused. I ended up losing both guys, causing a lot of unnecessary pain and now do not communicate with either of them.
The point is, so many people have unrealistic expectations of others, particularly those they cannot have. I've seen it, you've seen it in your friend's relationships, and yet you refuse to see it in your own life. This is not meant to be as accusatory as it sounds, I'm every bit as guilty as the next person--with a few more sins than the typical passer-by tends to carry. It's just a frustrating occurrence, one I see more and more often in people's lives, with more and more justification for their poor decisions.
I'm not sure how to end this, except to say that I hope that next time, you will take that person--that person you love so much--carefully remove them from their pedestal, and examine their personality as-is, not as you hope--believe--they could be.
This is a lie.
A person is going to be a good person, regardless of who they are with. This isn't a fairy tale, it isn't Disney or the movies, where the kiss from a kind-hearted soul will free the prince from his (or her) beastly shape. The person who turns into a good person because of another is not truly being a good person at all. They're being manipulated on a sub-conscious level by their own mind and their personal wants and desires. They become what they think the other person wants them to be, so they change themselves so they can appeal to their prince/princess. They don't suddenly grow independent, or loving, or stop being a cheater. It's just not the way life works.
So many people go through life looking for "the one," that person who can fix everything and make it all better. The one that they can live happily ever after with. It's an awful, tragic belief to get trapped in, because it's never going to happen. Not if that person ends up being someone who you think will change when you get together. I know this from experience.
When I was 18, I got married and ended up getting trapped in a bad relationship. Not as bad as some, worse than was healthy. I knew that if I didn't get out, things would get worse and worse and worse until they ended (and not well), and eventually I left him. But--much to my regret--not before having an affair with a guy I had been in love with since high school. He was smart, funny, and was sympathetic and could identify with my troubles.
It was a terrible choice--I destroyed a lot of friendships and hurt a lot more people. I tried to make it work--first with my husband, then, after my divorce, with the guy I cheated with. The latter ended up not exactly being the shining star he seemed to be to me for so many years. He was angry, cruel and made a lot of bad choices while convincing himself it wasn't anything he had caused. I ended up losing both guys, causing a lot of unnecessary pain and now do not communicate with either of them.
The point is, so many people have unrealistic expectations of others, particularly those they cannot have. I've seen it, you've seen it in your friend's relationships, and yet you refuse to see it in your own life. This is not meant to be as accusatory as it sounds, I'm every bit as guilty as the next person--with a few more sins than the typical passer-by tends to carry. It's just a frustrating occurrence, one I see more and more often in people's lives, with more and more justification for their poor decisions.
I'm not sure how to end this, except to say that I hope that next time, you will take that person--that person you love so much--carefully remove them from their pedestal, and examine their personality as-is, not as you hope--believe--they could be.
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