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R.I.P. Net Neutrality

With net neutrality dead in the water, likely this blog is too.  I am unemployed and cannot afford to pay for internet for things like this.  As it is, I don’t know how I’ll afford to pay for it to look for a job.  It was fun while it lasted.
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First Horror Movies

The first scary movie I ever saw was Poltergeist.  I was maybe 8 or 9, and I probably shouldn’t have watched it.  As a child, I was NOT into scary movies AT ALL.  I watched it because I was spending the night at a friend’s house, and it was on cable.  It scarred me for life (it’s the main reason I hate clowns).  I didn’t watch any horror movies for years afterward.

Fast forward to a few years later at a friends slumber party.  The first horror movie we watched there was one from 1982 called Pieces.  We spent most of the movie laughing at the clothes and hairdos and atrocious acting.  Then we watched a movie that I can never forget.

We watched Sleepaway Camp.

If you have watched this movie, YOU KNOW.  You know and I don’t even have to say anything.  If you haven’t seen this movie, please do so.  It’s got a twist ending that to this day makes people’s eyes pop right out of their head.  You spend most of the movie trying to figure out who the killer is, and when it’s revealed…..let’s just say that M. Night Shyamalan WISHES he could do a twist like this.
Let me say, that was my first time ever seeing a penis (and I am giving away nothing by saying this).  I wasn’t even sure what I was looking at.  I was 11.  I turned to my friend and said, “Is that a guy’s thing?”  And she said, “Yeah.”  I was absolutely HORRIFIED by it.  Not the penis itself, just that it was so hairy.  I mean you could barely see it in all that hair.  It really confused me.  Seriously, in all of my life, I’ve never seen one so damn hairy.

What horror movies scarred you for life?
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Posted in random

Migraines and Halloween

I know, I’m a horrible person, I haven’t been posting.  I’ve been having a lot of migraines, so I’ll blame that.  FOR ALL THAT IS HOLY, DO NOT GIVE ME ADVICE.  I’ve been having migraines for 26 years now.  I have tried every OTC med there is, every prescription there is, every homeopathic remedy.  I’ve tried yoga, visualization, and chiropractic (that last actually gave me more migraines).  I’ve tried hot compresses, cold compresses, and changing my diet.  I have to unfortunately live with them.  They were sporadic most of my life, and lasted anywhere from 4 hours to 4 days.  But in the last year or so, they have lasted 4 days.  Every.  Single.  Time.   The pain is a crippling one, coupled with vision problems, dizziness, nausea, and sensitivity to lights, sounds, and smells.   I’ve been getting them once a month.  I tracked them and they are unrelated to my period, showing up randomly: beginning of the month, end of the month, waking me up from a sound sleep at times, others just hitting me out of nowhere.
I got TWO of them this month, again, 4 days each.  We’re trying to see if it could be related to cheese, of all things, as that is a trigger for some.  So I have to cut out cheese and see if they stop.  This sucks as I fucking LOVE cheese.  But hey, if it will make my head stop hurting, I’ll drop it.

In other exciting life news, I actually got dressed up and went out Saturday night for Halloween.  The little local dive bar I was at was having a costume contest, so I figured why the hell not, right?  I was up against some good costumes, though.  There was a gay couple dressed as Peter Pan and Tinkerbell, a drag queen who had to be 10 feet tall with a great ass, a husband dressed as Abe Lincoln and a wife dressed as Freddie Mercury (they were Lincoln-Mercury), and an NFL referee, to name a few.
And then there was me.
I was Abby from NCIS.
Pigtails, lab coat, NCIS badge, and giant cup of CafPow.

I FUCKING WON.

I honestly didn’t even think I’d place.  I hoped someone would take enough pity on my sad little costume and maybe buy me a drink.
Instead I won first place.

$100 CASH, kids.

That’s a LOT of money when you’ve been unemployed as long as I have!

So next week, I plan to go to the mall, and buy a few pairs of pants that actually fit (my size 10’s are so loose I need a belt or I’d be arrested, and my size 8’s are getting a little baggy, too), maybe some new sweats (mine are years old and falling apart), and maybe some yarn from Michael’s.

But damn, never thought I’d win.  Also, all of my “Abby” clothes are from my own damn closet.  #eldergoth

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Hats for the Homeless

I knit beanie hats in my spare time. I usually just put them in the charity boxes we give to Salvation Army every 4 months or so. But on nextdoor. com the other day, someone was giving away some old baseball caps, and wanted to know if someone wanted them. A lady said she’d like them as she does homeless outreach, and it would give them something to help keep their heads warm. Well I had 37 knitted caps, so I messaged her asking if she would like them as well. She just came by and picked them up, and as we were talking, I told her how I make them to basically keep me occupied, so she said if I ever had some and wanted to donate them, she’d be happy to take them, AND that if I needed yarn to make more, she could get it to me through donations! I don’t need yarn as my friend Cameron gave me a ton of it a while back (which is what all of those hats were made from), but that’s good to know.
I’m helping!
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Donald Trump Is a Puerto Rican boy band?

Not exactly.  Stick with me on this one.

If you are my age or older, you may or may not remember the Puerto Rican boy band, Menudo.  Their most famous former member is Ricky Martin (if you don’t know who he is, I can’t help you).  Menudo showed up in the 70’s and lasted I believe into the 90’s, changing their image and name to M.D.O. (they may still be around, I have no idea).  They way they kept their staying power was that once they turned 16, they had to leave.  It was in their contract.  They were replaced by some 12 or 13-year-old.  Out with the old, in with the new.

Now…onto Trump.
He married Ivana when she was 28.  They were together for 15 years, from 1977 – 1991.  They divorced when she was 42.  She is 68 now.
He then moved on to Marla Maples.  That was a hot mess from the beginning.  He married her when she was 30, and they were married for only 6 years, from 1993 – 1999.  She is 53 now.
And finally, Melania.  He married her when she was 35.  They’ve been married for 12 years (so far), they got married in 2005.  She is 47 now.  Anyone else wondering when he’s going to trade her in for a younger model?  He seems to prefer late 20’s to early 30’s, and tossing them in their 40’s (except for hot mess Marla).  Out with the old in with the new.

There are also whispers that Melania married Trump to get her citizenship.  I DO NOT know if this is true, I know very little about her.  She had permanent U.S. residency in 2001, and became a citizen in 2005.  I don’t know if it was before, after, or because of her marriage to Trump.
But if it was…I wonder if she ever looks at the mess her husband has made and thinks, “I should have gone back to Slovenia and worked at Dairy Queen.  It would be better than this clusterfuck.”
I’ve also heard that she is living in their New York penthouse while the Cheeto lives in the White House.  I wonder what she does there, all by herself.  When I was in school, when the rich kids parents went out of town for a weekend, they would throw a party.  Maybe Melania is in the penthouse throwing keggers.  Picture her in that weird blue outfit she wore at the swearing in ceremony doing keg stands.  You’re welcome.

So I’m sure Trump would love to know that I equate him with a Hispanic boy band, since he loves Hispanics so much.

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Posted in random

Rain and More Rain

I know, I’ve been MIA for a bit.  But I have an excuse.  Not a GOOD one, mind you.

I’m blaming the rain.

After something like 10 years of drought here in Northern California, we have been getting hammered.  We have gotten so much rain this season that we are officially out of the drought.  Yet, it keeps falling.  Mother Nature is mad at our whining, I suppose.  I have a few friends who live in the mountains, and one hasn’t really been able to leave his house for something like a week.  At least he can work from home, so he won’t lose his job.
And that right there amuses me.  They tell us there’s pouring rain, there’s flooding, there’s 50 mph winds, don’t leave your house if you don’t have to…..but if you want to keep your crap job ringing up groceries or whatever, you need to get to work.  We had flooding over in Niles Canyon last night, and the friggin’ CHP was saying not to go out if you could help it.  All I could think was, “Somewhere, there is a boss nice and warm in his house threatening to fire his employees if they don’t show up for work.”

But along with the gray and cloudy crappy weather, I have a gray and cloudy disposition.  I have Seasonal Affective Disorder.  The one thing I found out that helped it years ago was to go into a tanning bed for 5 minutes once a week.  However, there is only one tanning salon in town, and it’s the one I was fired from.  Not to worry, he tried to decline my unemployment, and we went to court over it.  Yeah, I won that case.  But I doubt I’d be welcomed back to the shop with open arms!

As far as flooding goes, although we only live about 100 yards from a creek, it’s REALLY deep.  I’d say the creek bed is a good 50 feet down, and is about 10 feet full.  Plus it flows out to the Bay, so we’re good.  But running to a sandwich shop nearby yesterday, we checked out the creek, as there’s a bridge going over it.  I have never seen that much water in there.  Every summer, there is a creek cleanup, as there is never any water in there.  I don’t know if they’ll be able to do it this year!

So my absence isn’t my fault.  It’s the weather.  Nature is a mother.

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Posted in random

Killer Stoves and Cleavage Coolers

The stove/oven combo at the place I live is really unusual.  It’s not all one thing.  There is a stove top with four burners, but the oven is NEXT to it, set into the wall.  We actually like this set up, we don’t have to bend over to get things out, and it’s especially good for when we cook anything heavy, like when we cook turkey on Christmas.

But I think our stove top is trying to kill us.

There was the day when one of the burners burst into flame.  And when I say that, I mean it BURST, LOUDLY and turned into a Roman candle for about 30 seconds.  The mom unit was trapped in the kitchen, I was trying to figure out how to get her out while simultaneously trying to remember if we had baking soda (electric stoves suck), and both of us were screaming.  I also remember being really happy that our renter’s insurance was paid up.  Then, it just stopped.  They came and replaced said burner, but even the repair guy couldn’t explain why our stove wanted to kill us.

Then some burners would randomly stop working….and then just start again.  The repair guy came about 3 months back, and replaced the little electrical box under one of the dials, telling us that should take care of it.  Nope.  Just a few days ago, I put the kettle on to make tea and had a seat on the couch.  It’s a whistling kettle (belonged to my late uncle and I love it), so I never worry about forgetting it.  I got involved with my TV program, and 10 minutes later, realized that my kettle never started whistling.  Had I turned on the wrong burner?
Going into the kitchen, I saw that I had the right burner on (the large right front one), but nothing was happening, it was stone cold.  Then we realized the back rear left one (also a large one) wasn’t working as well.  So another call to the management who called out the repair guy again.

I don’t know about you, but I kind of hate having repair people in my house.  There is no reason, I’m just misanthropic.  I am kind of fascinated by most of the stuff they do, but the stove guy grates on me.  The worst part is that whoever designed these apartments decided that the best place to put the breaker box was right behind my bedroom door.  So when he has to turn the electricity off/on (and he has to because it’s an electric stove and he’s fiddling with the wires), he has to go in and out.  Right next to the door is a large bookshelf I refer to as “my altar”.  I have stuff on there that means something to me.  I have a tiara a boyfriend got me to wear for my birthday several years ago, an empty mint tin that has a Ouija board design on the outside, a strand of green Mardi Gras beads that hang down to my knees given to me way back in 2009, and so on.  Well, the last time he went in and out of my room, he had a bid stupid smile.  It wasn’t until he left that I went in and looked around….what was so funny?  That’s when I realized what it might be.
My bodice cooler from Ren Faire.
I’ve attached a photo below of a vendor with several of them, for those of you who don’t know what they are.
See, Ren Faire tends to be really hot.  Like, REALLY HOT (at least around these parts).  So a bodice chiller is meant to be placed between the breasts and filled with ice, and it helps keep you cool.  Last time I went to faire a few years ago, I bought one, but I bought an “unusual” one.  Instead of it having a normal “pointy” end, the end is shaped….like a penis.
And it’s green.
Now when I bought it, I thought it was funny and clever.  But now it’s only my alter with its penis end pointing up to the ceiling.
It looks like I have a glass dildo that I am proudly displaying, and yes, it’s fairly obvious, sitting on my shelf in all it’s green penile glory.

So basically, if the stove ever craps out again, we will just have to move.

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