Wednesday, February 21, 2018

Idiots


I won't repeat the fisking of the dumbass who claimed that poor people can't possibly cook for themselves.  Larry Correia did a more than adequate job. 

No, this is reserved for those who are screeching about the suggestion that, instead of giving people easily defrauded ways to buy their own groceries (junk food????  Seriously???  You're buying soda and snack cakes on your ebt cards, and complaining that your children are going hungry???), we should bring back the non-perishable goods food pantries.  Canned stuff.  Y'know, the stuff I grew up eating.  Because I was painfully poor.

I've heard people screeching that it takes away the individual's right to choose what they eat.  Let's start with that.

So fucking what.  I don't give half a shit about the individual's right to choose what they eat, not when money is being forcibly removed from my household to give to these people.  I don't drink soda, nor do I eat a whole lot of processed crap.  I cook.  From scratch, for the most part.  Because it's cheaper, and tastes a hell of a lot better (if you can get your hands on a '60s Betty Crocker cookbook, their black midnight chocolate cake tastes a hell of a lot better than a mix, and costs a lot less to make).  I don't eat steak, much, either.  I've never eaten lobster.  Because I can't afford to.  I do NOT want someone who chooses not to work to eat better than my family does.  Hell, the threat of starvation's a hell of a motivation to get a fucking job. 

I've also heard people screeching that the boxes of non-perishable foods lack any nutrition. 

Uh, what? 

Every can of vegetables has, just above its list of ingredients, a chart.  That chart is the nutritional values of whatever's in the can.  I use a LOT of canned food.  Wanna know why?  Because fresh or frozen green beans squeak when you eat them, and my children refuse to eat them.  And because I can get a lot of canned food, and it can sit in the pantry until I need to use it.  I put canned corn in taco soup, in my version of fajitas, and my daughter occasionally demands I open a can just for her, and eats it in about three days' worth of suppers.  I use canned green beans--warmed up with garlic salt, and my son's actually willing to eat them, provided he has coctail sauce or barbecue sauce to dip them in.  Canned tomato products are actually better for males than fresh.  And boy howdy, do both of my guys like chili.  And pasta bake. 

I've heard "but people won't know how to cook the food in the boxes, so that they can eat it." 

Actually, I can't dispute that.  I had a friend in high school whose mother kicked her out.  She got the food pantry boxes with macaroni, canned meat, canned veg, government cheese, and stuff like that.  She lived on the peanut butter and bread handed out with the rest, because she didn't know what to do with any of it, until I showed her a couple things, then took her to the home-ec teacher.  For the most part, it can be solved by adding a small cookbook to the first box collected, and maybe a few basic cooking lessons.  Hell, maybe put a 6qt crock pot in the first box, with the cookbook, and a few pounds of dried beans, black eyed peas, and other legumes.  A decent one is under $20, and will make cooking the beans a thing of simplicity that beats microwaved frozen meals.

I've heard "canned food is so gross!" 

Yeah, some of it is.  It'll keep you from starving.  If you want to eat better than that, either get a job, or get a better job than what you have.  If you literally cannot, well, Velveeta makes a lot of things taste a hell of a lot better, even if it's over-processed crap for cheese.  Honestly, the worst things I remember from the food pantry canned foods with the white government labels growing up was the canned meat...and if you add it and a can of cream of mushroom soup to pretty much any pasta, maybe with some of that horrid government cheese, it makes a pretty tasty meal.  But yes, straight out of the can, it's awful. 

On the surface, the protests seem to be "for the good of those who can't afford to keep body and soul together."  However, if you scratch that altruistic surface, what you find is a whole bunch of whining elitists that want to feel good about helping the "poor" without actually doing anything to help them out of poverty. 

Friday, February 16, 2018

Monday, February 12, 2018

I got yer dream right here.

Okay.  I am a parent.  I get the urge to do what it takes to offer your child a chance at a better life that what they'd face without your actions.  I get that there's no way a poor child in a third world shit hole will grow up to become anything other than a poor adult raising poor children in a third world shit hole. 

That said.  I do not have any sympathy, nor yet any inclination to make exceptions for adults that jump the border, jump the line, and break into my house and make themselves at home.  "But I've lived here twenty years...my children know nothing else." 

Yeah.  Fucking tough.  Do it right, or get the fuck out. 

I do feel bad for the kids who were brought here as infants, and don't realize that the country they probably think of as their home isn't.  Not really.  Will I make exceptions for these kids?  Will I smile and nod, and be happy that my taxes go to pay for their college tuition when we have tuition to pay to give our kids a chance to make a good life? 


That said.  There are ways for these kids to become legal, naturalized citizens of this nation. 

They can enlist and serve.  Anyone who's willing to shed blood to protect the country they love, whether it's their legal place of residence, or where they've lived illegally (knowingly or not) all their lives?  I'm happy to stamp their paperwork and make them legal American citizens. 

Wednesday, February 7, 2018

Snippet


This snippet is brought to you from the current project, which I don't have a firm title on, yet.  
  

 ***

“I’m dead, not male,” I snarked.  “Besides.  I had guy friends in college that said they thought we females lucked out in the ‘carry shit around with you’ department.”
“Yeah, well,” she sputtered.  “They lucked out on the comfy shoes and clothes that work on fat people department.  I mean, seriously.  Heather gray in regular sizes is manatee gray in plus sizes.”
I snorted, then choked on a giggle.  “Say what, now?”
Andi eyed my scrawny figure. “Not that you’d ever have had the same problem,” she said. 
“No,” I admitted.  “I routinely forgot to eat when I got busy, and was anorexic in high school because it was all the rage.”
“God have mercy,” she blurted out, staring at me instead of fastening her seat belt.  “A serious psychological disorder was trendy?”
“Keep in mind, hon,” I said gently.  “I’m probably your mother’s age, rather than yours, no matter what I look like.  There were a lot of things that were trendy that shouldn’t have been.  Like Anne Rice.”
Andi finished fastening her seat belt with a sigh.  “Anne Rice wrote better vampires than Stephanie Meyer.”
I glanced in my rearview mirrors, then twisted around to back up without hitting the Mustang.  “Honey, everybody writes better vampires than Stephanie Meyer, but she’s the one sleeping on pallets of cash.”

***

I'd like to know what y'all think. 

Tuesday, January 30, 2018

Damn vampires.

A couple months ago, I had a DO appointment, then a endocrinologist appointment.  My regular doc has been trying to find something--anything--she can do to treat the chronic fatigue syndrome, or at least help me manage it.*  And she ordered a CBC, a liver function test, and a test that shows RA that may be hiding from the more common test.  And said I could just get them all done when the endo ordered another TSH blood workup. 

Well, the endo appointment came.  She did, indeed, send me down to the lab.  And their computer system shat itself, and refused to pull up the print command for the labels for the vials.  So, they wouldn't do the bloodwork ordered by my regular doc.  And something went funky with the TSH, and it read really low--which means that the thyroid dose I'd been doing as well as I ever did was too high.  Don't know if it was stress, or me managing meds and diet to wring every last bit of energy out of my meds for the last couple of months of teaching actually succeeding past where I should have, but still.  She flipped out, and ordered another in two months (i.e., yesterday). 

So, yesterday, I went to the lab at the DO's office.  And asked for her bloodwork, and could they please do the rest, too. 

They offered to go ahead with DO's, but not endo's, or let it ride until I went back to the lab in the endo's building, which should do all of it. 

Yeah, not after last time.  I asked that they went ahead with the draw for the DO. 

Turns out it was a really good thing I did.  They got plenty. 

Odysseus helped me get all the way across town (about a twenty-minute drive) to the lab.  They got me in, and the little phlebotomist tried her damnedest.  Three times.  She finally got just barely enough to run the TSH test that the endo ordered. 

*Managing it is not overdoing it, sleeping a lot, eating a lot of beef, and drinking coffee.  Pain management is a little more complicated, due to allergies, and involves a good bit more alcohol than I really want to be drinking on breakthrough pain nights.

Thursday, January 25, 2018

Deep breath...

Crack knuckles...and write. 

I have the project for March finished in first draft form.  It's a collection of short stories (and I am planning on adding one more, when I can get it out).  I'm fairly happy with it. 

I've also started the next project.  It's one I started about five years ago, but stalled on.  I couldn't find the right music for it, and I didn't know why I couldn't move the plot forward.  I recently got a lot more music--like, four CDs, three of Avenged Sevenfold, and In This Moment's Rituals--and the latter proved to be perfect.  I pulled up the 10K words I had of the project, and read through it four times while listening to the music...and figured out that I'd not set things up right.  I've got to build the trust between the characters before I can set the plot rolling.  Duh.

I had 10K words.  I had to cut 2K words to get back to a point where it would move again.  And once I did, I added 3K words.  Yes, the project that stalled for five freakin' years is alive again.  And it's coming really easy, now.  

Last weekend, I discovered a couple things: thing the first, my headphones had died.  Again.  The wire had broken on the plug end.  Thing the second, I can't cheap out on fixing thing the first and expect it to last.  I'd spent $50 on three pairs of headphones, last year. 

So on Saturday, I spent $50 on a pair of headphones that are capable of Bluetooth connection or of using a wire...which was the fail point on ALL of my other headphones...and which fully detaches and is easily replaceable on this set. 

Hopefully, this pair lasts me for a good while longer. 

This morning, I finally felt good enough to move my work station back from my recliner (with heat pad and blankets and all sorts of comfort stuff) back to my desk.  And I went to plug my USB accessories back in to print my tax info and to get back to using a keyboard that's a lot easier on my hands.  And come to find out, the keyboard won't see the laptop, or vise versa. 

I panicked.  And went looking for a spare (which we don't have).  And then decided I was going to go get a new one.  Asked Odysseus if he could grab me one, or if I ought to go to a local overstock and return store that often has some really decent stuff marked a lot lower than it should be.  He suggested plugging it in and trying a hard restart.  So I did, and went to do the restart, accidentally put an elbow on a key...and the damn thing obeyed the input command, and shut down my browser. 

Yes, ladies and gents, that's right: I threatened to replace a piece of equipment that wouldn't work, and it started working again. 

We really ought to do things like this more often with cashiers that won't do their jobs and go on strike demanding a skilled worker's wage for unskilled work. 

Back to work.  I'll bang out this new project's first draft, then get to work revising March's project. 

Friday, January 19, 2018

It's a couple weeks later than intended, but...

 ...it's done, and published.  You can buy it, or you can use the Kindle Unlimited program to read it for free.