Life Rant

One of these days, I’ll be able to use my own bathroom and not have somebody else’s towel hanging on my hook. One of these days, I’ll be able to leave my razor on the little soap shelf without going in and finding somebody else’s razor sitting there instead. One day, I won’t have to take a shower angry thinking about these things, about the hairs on the counter and the shit stains in the toilet.

I have to keep reminding myself this will happen one day. Because if I don’t, I think I’m going to strangle some people.

Ten interesting facts about myself

Ugh, lists like this drive me crazy. I hate sitting around trying to figure out what sort of tidbits somebody else might find interesting about me. So I’ll just rattle off ten random things about myself that may or MAY NOT be interesting and we’ll leave it at that. Deal?

  1. I spent most of time in the library of my schools for pretty much most of my school-going years. In elementary school, I spent all my lunch hours there, poring over books like the Hardy Boys and Nancy Drew. In junior high, I volunteered my lunch hours and an extra period to the school library. When I hit high school, I spent a period every day helping out in the school bookroom. So how is it that I’m not a librarian today? Who knows!
  2. I’ve fostered two litters of small kittens. They were strays that were born in our yard. (Don’t worry, we caught and spayed the mothers of each litter.) I still believe that taking care of tiny kittens around the clock was one of the most frustrating but rewarding experiences of my life. I would definitely do it again and have given serious thought to becoming a foster for a local shelter.
  3. I actually do know basic sign language. It might be basic but it’ll still carry me through a conversation with somebody the slow way, if need be! Or you know, there’s the cell phone way.
  4. I cannot stand foam or styrofoam. Everything about the texture and the sound of it sends horrible shivers down my spine.
  5. Conversely, I like having my head touched and my hair played with. It gives me an extremely pleasant and calm sensation. I’ve since learned this sensation has a name but I’ve already forgotten what it is.
  6. I’d say about half my closet is filled with clothing I’ve bought from the thrift shop. Ours has a pretty nice selection for much less than half the cost at retail shops. Since I’m no fashionista, this low cost closet makes me happy (and my husband’s wallet happy too!)
  7. Speaking of the poor husband’s wallet… I am finally doing the things I always wished I could do but I was too anxious, shy, and afraid to do in my younger years. I’m traveling more and going to more events, concerts, and conventions. It feels really nice to be able to let go of that unhealthy weight of anxiety and just DO things again.
  8. I just got done watching Parks & Recreation for the second time and I feel a lot like April does–I’m in my 30s and I still have no idea what I really want to do with my life. I’m attending college and going for an associate’s degree but what will I do afterward? Keep going and pursue a bachelor’s degree? In what? I don’t know what I want to do with my life because I haven’t experimented enough!
  9. If only I could get paid to foster animals!
  10. Writing is still one of my biggest passions but I haven’t outlined a new book idea in a long time. I feel like I sprained my creative brain… or I used so much of its resources on roleplay that I don’t know what to write by myself anymore. But the thing is, I just want to write, and it doesn’t matter if I’m paid or not. It does to my husband and our wallet, though. So I should really do something soon…

My First Love

Honestly, this is going to sound trite but my first love is my husband. I know I’m in my 30s and that sounds ridiculous but I didn’t really date much as a youngster. There were various guys that I guess you could say I had a crush on over the years but most of them were never acknowledged. I believe my first crush was a boy in junior high school who played basketball. I wanted to look cool to him so I started hardcore playing a lot of basketball. After that, I didn’t really do things just to impress other people because, well, he never noticed me so it seemed like a pointless effort.

I never had to impress my husband. We met playing D&D. I used to play a lot of it when I lived in Mariposa and I really missed those days so I reached out on MYSPACE of all places. I found people there that I’m still friends with today! And of course, my husband, whom I met through somebody I met to play D&D with.

I really miss the days where we all got together as a group to play D&D. I know it’s back to my roots but it was also a way to spend time with my friends. I only have a handful of friends but I only really see one on a regular basis. (And hey, I met him through Myspace D&D searching, too!)

Since I’m just babbling now, I’ll leave it at that. 😉

My Earliest Memory

This subject is a tough one for me. I have a lot of random “memories” floating around in my mind but I can’t say for sure which is the earliest one. I have a difficult time remembering anything clearly until about first grade. Before that, everything is a muddled mess. I vaguely remember visiting the computer room in kindergarten. I vaguely remember the apartments we lived in, and receiving a soft, plush book from my mother’s friend. I remember my mother discussing what she was going to name my youngest brother.

The first really clear memory I can think of is in first grade and it’s an embarrassing one. While I was a really bratty child, I was also extremely shy so I never wanted to tell the teacher when I had to use the bathroom. When you’re really young, it’s hard to hold it, so one day, I actually peed in my seat. I was wearing a dress so I think it only got my underwear… and my seat.

And we were switching seats that day. I don’t remember what happened after that. I don’t remember if the person who got my seat said anything or if I got in trouble. It’s all blank after that. But I do remember the debilitating anxiety that came with knowing somebody would be sitting where I just peed.

So yep, there’s my gross early memory! What about you? What was your first memory? Feel free to share it in the comments below!

Five Problems With Social Media

Writing Challenge

Hello! It’s been a while! I’m back with another 30 day challenge. This one is specifically for writing so I thought it’d be a fun way to pass the time. Since I’m going to school and I have a lot of hobbies, this is a simple enough challenge for me to undertake. (And it doesn’t feel like homework.)

All right, so the first challenge is to talk about five problems with social media.

  1. Sometimes your private thoughts aren’t quite as private as you hoped! Even if you obsessively check your privacy settings, things happen and your platform fails you. My suggestion is, don’t write anything on social media that you’ll regret. I’ve learned this one the hard way.
  2. There are a lot of annoying thoughts to filter. I love my friends but I don’t always love their sentiments on certain subjects. Politics, religion, whatever it is, there’s always some views I’d rather pretend I never saw.
  3. There are just too many of them! Everywhere I turn, there’s a new social media platform being talked about. I barely even use Twitter and I only use Tumblr to hunt for images to use on my roleplay sites! Facebook is the only one I check on a daily basis and who knows WHY.
  4. Ugh, ads. Ads are an annoying part of life that we can’t seem to avoid. Even if you use an ad-blocker, there’s always something filtering through. Now we have “sponsored” posts from companies we couldn’t care less about spamming up our feeds. When will it end?!
  5. Drama. I think drama is the number one problem with social media. It always seems to crop up, no matter how hard you try not to let it pry its way through. You can’t even block people without causing more drama.

What problems do you have with social media? Feel free to leave your comments below!

Initial Thoughts on Fire Emblem Fates

Do you ever get that feeling where you want to like something but you can’t seem to find it in you to like it? On paper, Fire Emblem Fates should be right up my alley. But as it was with Awakening, I can’t seem to make myself like it much. I’m going to plug along and try but I think the biggest turn off to me (strangely enough) is the weird dating sim aspect of it. On Harvest Moon, I love courting my amour and having children. I love otome games like Norn9 and Sweet Fuse. So you’d think adding in a marriage element to a Fire Emblem game would be right up my alley but it’s really not.

I guess I haven’t fallen in love with these newer characters in the same way I did to past FE games. It’s not a chronological order thing, either. Blazing Swords and Path of Radiance were my two ultimate favorite entries in the series. I didn’t like Sacred Stones or its characters quite as much as I did in those two and PoR’s sequel was pretty rad (I looked forward to it for ages!) but didn’t quite hit the same notes for me as its predecessor did.

I’m sure if I play it more (I’m only on chapter 5), I’ll grow to like it more. I haven’t given it enough time to fully get to know the characters–I haven’t even MET half of them yet. So I will continue to play it in the hopes that it gives me some of those emotions my favorites in the series did.

What’s funny is, I also picked up several PS4 games, one of which is Disgaea 5. I’m thoroughly enjoying Disgaea 5. While not my favorite entry in the series, I love the quirky characters mixed in with a serious story delivered in a light-hearted tone. It’s exactly what I’ve always expected from Disgaea and the series has yet to let me down.

Let me know what you think about these games and the series they come from in the comments below!


“They call you what?” Dec asked with a raise of the brow. He checked over his camera’s case to make sure he had everything he needed. The last thing he needed right now was to leave anything behind. Or maybe it was the first thing he needed. With care, he switched his cellphone from one shoulder to the other, cradling it to his ear as he zipped the camera case closed.

“You heard me.”

“Auggie? Isn’t that a cartoon dog?”

“Shut up, Dec.

“Yeah, yeah.”

Why did their parents think it was a great idea to name them after their birthdays? Well, on the up side, it meant that it made their birthdays easier to remember–provided people knew their middle names. Dec did pretty much anything in his power to keep that secret.

“You should really give them a call though, August.” Silence on the other end–but the kind of silence that spoke volumes. Dec sighed as he slipped his camera bag over his head and brought the phone back up to his ear. Still nothing?

“Come on. How long are you going to hold it against them that they’re… well, you know. Themselves?”

“Look. Now’s not the time or place for this,” August said, sounding weary of the topic. Dec could just see him rolling his eyes. Hell, he could practically hear it over the phone. “Anyway, I just wanted to let you know how things were going and see what was new with you. Sounds like things are basically the same.”

“Pre-etty much.”

Dec stopped to look around the studio. The photoshoot was over and he was the only one left, trailing behind everybody else. The models were long gone, of course, their managers and friends ushering them away with promises of new jobs or celebratory drinks. And the rest of the crew had either cleared out or were taking a break before they did, too.

“Anyway, I saw your last shoot in my girlfriend’s magazine.”

“Uh-huh. You bought it and you’re just using her as a cover.”

His brother laughed and just like that, the tension seemed to melt away.

“Yeah. Sure. I do it just to stroke your ego. But yeah! I think you’re getting really good. Like… I think you should be able to do more than magazines, you know?”

“There’s not really much that gets bigger than these magazines. I like having models and those people who put out books are more landscape and travel photographers. Or… abstract, I guess. I like what I’m doing. Fashion. You know. And models. Nothing’s more expressive than a human. Their face. Their body.”

“All right, all right. Don’t get all artsy fartsy on me. Listen, I gotta go. I’m meeting Leah in a few. But I’ll talk to you later. And next time, don’t hold out on me. If I have to find out from my girlfriend one more time that you’ve done another shoot–!”

Dec smirked. August had no idea he just did a shoot. But it didn’t matter–the thing wouldn’t be out until they edited the life out of the photos. That was probably one of the most annoying parts about his job. The photoshoppers were more valuable to the magazines than he was.

“I’ll talk to you later, Auggie.

“Bye, December Eleven.”

“Hey–!” But before he could counter with his brother’s full name, August hung up. “Asshole.”

Nano 2015!

Nano is fast approaching. This year, my friend and I are going to try something a little different. Since we’re both busy with various things and this is her first official try for Nano, we’re going to go halfsies. Yep, she is writing one half and I am writing one half–in the form of a penpal letters back and forth. I’m looking forward to it. I think we’ll put together a cohesive tale between the letters. 🙂

[Snippet] Madness

“And you’ll feel a little pinch…”

Nerio barely felt the needle entering his skin. Only a couple of years ago, the sight of a needle would have made him light-headed and sick to his stomach. Now he didn’t so much as blink as Dr. Mercury injected him with… He didn’t know what. He used to ask each time with anxiety shaking his voice. Now he didn’t care. Vitamins, steroids, immunizations. A pilot needed to take a lot of shit in order to stay in fighting shape.

“There you go. You’re all set.”

Dr. Mercury smiled at him, her lipstick too red, her smile almost clownish. Nerio’s smile back was empty, brief, and insecure as he slid off the exam table and let his sleeve fall back down over the bandage the doctor placed on his arm. It did burn a little but these days, he was becoming numb to the after effects.

“Remember to report any side effects to your supervisor.”

“…right.” Nerio nodded and bumbled through the door and out of the sterile room, with its beige walls and posters of how to stay healthy and know the signals of illness. Lately, he was in such a fog that he wasn’t sure he knew which way was up and which was down.

Somehow, he made it back to the barracks, where he dropped into a heavy sleep. But when he woke up, he felt like he never slept and his whole body was shaking. The windows were dark and other soldiers and mecha pilots were now occupying their beds. Some snored loudly, others breathed in, out–soft and peaceful. Nerio raised a shaking hand to the side of his head, which pounded incessantly. Slowly, he crawled out of bed and swung his legs over the bunk. His feet touched the ground but when he tried to stand, everything felt like jelly.

He had to crawl to the bathroom, where he heaved out his guts. First he felt hot, searing from the inside and then he felt cold. He shivered and shook, holding onto the toilet bowl. Normally, he’d never rest his cheek tiredly against a toilet bowl but he felt like he was dying. His face on a toilet bowl was hardly the pressing issue here. Flashes of red clotted his vision and then the most horrific thoughts. Blood on his hands, blood on his face. His mother, his father. And who was that? Rien?

The next thing he knew, somebody was laughing and poking him on the shoulder, jabbing him where the shot had been given. Pain ran all the way down his arm. He lifted his head and looked up at one of the soldiers. A couple of the other guys were laughing and jostling one another. Amongst the words spoken, he heard hangover and something about partying too much. Ha ha. That was so Nerio. Such a partier. Not.

Forcing himself to stand up, Nerio dragged himself to a sink so he could wash his face. No, what he needed was a full on shower. Stripping down, he stepped into one of the showers and let the cool water cascade over him, waking him up and mostly dispelling the sickly feeling that clung to the edges of consciousness. Once he was washed up and awake, he made his way back over to his bunk. Honestly, now that he was clean and moving, he almost forgot just how crappy he felt the day before.

He smiled slightly to himself as he sat on the edge of the bunk.

[Serial] Alive Part 1

Long, wicked black claws curled around his closet door with a soft tick-tick sound. One narrow red eye peered through the slim opening, glowing imperiously. Everything else in the room was cast in deep shadow. Only that eye and those claws seemed visible in a sea of darkness.

Matthew held his breath and watched. He tried not to move. He tried not to exist. Wide hazel eyes remained fixed on the claws because the eye filled him with cold dread. That eye paralyzed him.

Visions of blood and claw marks flashed through his memory, sepia and red film reeling violently. Matthew could not breathe. He couldn’t think. He closed his eyes. He trembled.

The sound of claws sliding over wood and plaster sent a shiver down his spine.

“Gil,” he whispered, his voice shaking on the single syllable.

He heard Gil’s voice in his head.

“I see them every night, Matt. They’re hunting me.”

Matthew told him he needed to get help. He didn’t believe Gil but how could he? His paranoid delusions of a monster hunting him in the night sounded crazy. Who would ever believe something like that? Even Matthew, his best friend, didn’t believe him. He wanted to—he wanted to believe that his friend suffered from a supernatural attack more than he wanted to admit that he might be sick in the head.

It wasn’t until he woke up to Gil’s mutilated body in the bed next to his that he began to believe.

“Gil,” he whispered again. “Tell me what to do.”

Gil couldn’t tell him what to do; he didn’t even know what to do. He couldn’t save himself from the horrible torment of a shrouded death bringer. His body had been in tatters, ribbons of skin curling against blood and muscle and tissue. His mouth formed a horrified scream. His eyes, his brilliant blue eyes, were gone, leaving nothing but hollow sockets.

Gil was gone. He died. Just the way Matthew would die right now.

Knock, knock, knock!

Knuckles against wood, the sound jettisoned Mathew out of his bed, shoving the blankets aside as he stood beside his bed, shaking, hands held close to his chest. He could feel the beat of his own heart, erratic, fluttering, quick. The closet no longer housed a nightmare creature. Matthew took a step closer to his bed, his calf pressing into the mattress.

The clock next to his bed blinked red numbers back at him. 12:14. Just after midnight. Matthew rubbed his hands over his chest.

He must have imagined the knock.

Knock, knock, knock!

Matthew’s mouth went dry. The sound didn’t emanate from the closet. Somebody was at his door. Matthew sucked his bottom lip in and then shakily took a step forward. One after another, he finally made it to the door, hand trembling as he reached up to touch the door. He peered through the peephole.

Relief washed over him. He pulled the chain out with eager hands then unlocked the deadbolt and finally the doorknob.


He threw himself against her and felt her arms coming up around him as she let out a sound of surprise. Lavender surrounded him. He felt a hand in his hair.

“Matthew, son,” she began in a soothing tone. “You need to come home.”

“Now? Mom, it’s midnight.”

“Now,” she said, in a voice that brooked no arguments. She stroked his hair. “Baby, you need to come home with me tonight. I don’t like you being here alone after what happened and I know you haven’t been going to school.”

Matthew swallowed guiltily. It was true. Ever since Gil died, he couldn’t make himself do much of anything. He couldn’t sleep at night so he slept through the day. All day long, he ignored the sound of his phone ringing, even when his mother called.

“You must have been worried,” he said in a dead voice, staring into the hallway behind her.

“You know I have. Why haven’t you been taking my calls?”

Matthew didn’t know how to answer that so he didn’t. Instead, he slowly pulled away from his mother and without looking back at the room behind him, he said, “Let’s go.”