Apocalypse Averted #ThankfulThursday

As some of you may already know, I’m losing my neighbor’s WiFi next week. It’s been wonderful to have the world at my fingertips at any given moment, but all good things must come to an end. As I have repeatedly expressed a desire that I were still experiencing the 90s, I can file this under “Be careful what you wish for.”
But all is not lost: I can access the Internet from the library and – this is the good part – my neighbor has elected to leave her old smartphone here with me. That means I can stay logged in to all of my accounts, download stuff to read in bed instead of at my desk, and finish the James Franco calendar on Instagram instead of moving the project to Twitter.
Furthermore, my mom’s bf replaced the bulgy front tire on my bike, so the trips to the library won’t suck until the sidewalks ice over.
I have awesome people in my life.

Fiction Friday


I figured out that we can add additional pages of long-term material to WordPress, not just a blog, so I moved everything here. There’s a link to that prayer book I put together a while ago, a collection of topics that I disagree with the Church about, and a page for my fiction, which you can’t download yet.
I made myself a promise that I wouldn’t make any further progress on the outline for Book 2 until October, but I have the itch. Gonna fix some glaring errors in Book 1, draw floorplans for existing buildings, and throw details at every object and sensation on the page. As long as I’m not thinking about the network of tunnels he will discover or the revelation that the bishop was having an affair or a presumably secure character will likely die, as long as I can keep my head out of Book 2, I’m not breaking the rules.
I’m a little out of practice, but writing’s just like riding a bike, right?
Anyway, the other blog is gone. If you need me for something I will be wandering the halls of my fictional Whitestone Abbey.

You can skip this one, I’m just bitchin’

I visit my psychiatrist tomorrow, I have mixed feelings about it.  Normally it’s something I would look forward to, getting to complain to someone who MUST listen and grunt that he’s listening, but this particular trip is going to be a pain in my ass.

Normally I have them schedule my appointments for Monday, Wednesday, or Friday, so I can take the shuttle that travels from my town to my shrink’s city.  It gives me 45 minutes of solitude so I can gather my thoughts and present my issues in the 15 minutes allotted to me.  Unfortunately, the office has rescheduled this appointment three times, and it was necessary to just take any time-slot available.

This means I’ll be getting a ride from some random stranger that the state will reimburse.  It’s a great program, this Medi-Uber thing, in theory, but it’s a problem for me.  I don’t make small talk.  And it’s been obvious, each time I’ve been compelled to use the service, that that is the reason these drivers are willing to drive complete strangers all over the state to their doctor’s appointments: they are bored and lonely and want to talk to someone.

It drives me bonkers.  I am neither bored nor lonely, I’m simply too poor to own a vehicle.  I have someone to talk to, a licensed professional, and I’d like to have my issues lined up in as much order as I can give them so I don’t waste one of the three appointments a year that the insurance will cover.

I don’t care about the drivers’ families or hobbies or regrets.  I DO NOT CARE.  And no, I don’t want to share my life with you, Noble Stranger.  I don’t want your encouragement or sympathy or folksy bootstrap wisdom.  Shut up and drive.  I just need to get to the clinic and can’t wait another four months for a Wednesday slot to open up.

Being crazy sucks.

Gleeful Anticipation of the Ashley Madison Leak


Some things are wrong, and cheating is one of them.  You can argue that there are worse things than cheating, such as human trafficking and murder, and I would agree, but that doesn’t mean that cheating isn’t wrong.

I consider myself fairly sex positive:  I’m okay with prostitution, open polyamorous relationships, masturbation, pre or non marital sex – get your rocks off, that’s fine.

But Ashley Madison isn’t about that, it’s about extra-marital affairs.  It’s about a culture of cheating spouses, and it’s wrong.  Marriage is a thing, and if you don’t want to take part in it, then don’t.  People have fought and died for the right to marry, whether it be someone of another race in the 50s or someone of your own gender last month.  It’s a powerful thing, and it comes at a cost.  It’s not for everyone.

If you aren’t comfortable sharing your kinks with your spouse, you have selected the wrong spouse.  If you are bored with your partner, it is not the fault of the institution of marriage, you have selected, or perhaps become, the wrong spouse.

This hack of a website founded in 2001 for the purpose of enabling infidelity is not going to ruin your marriage, marrying the wrong person (or at all) did.  Where is this splendid right to privacy when it comes to non-violent drug offenders?  I mention that because in some places adultery IS a crime, here in my state of Wisconsin it is a felony.  What makes your crime more sacred than mine?

No, I feel no sympathy for the people who may get exposed by this hack.  Actions have consequences.

Pick a prophet, any prophet


It turns out the flashbacks aren’t just an info-gathering tool, they really are the bones of the story. I gotta go all the way back to the protagonist’s first life and work my way from there. I’ve been writing it wrong. Also, he can’t be Elijah. I wanted him to, ‘cuz Elijah is the most prominent pyrokinetic in the OT, but he gets reborn as someone else. Protagonist may be Elisah, or maybe Samuel.
How do we like this site? Is WordPress the way to go?