Header snip originally from giphy, added onto to by other enthusiastic fans, and then I took it through memedad.
-Mobile continuation from Xanga blog PinkyGuerrero
-Most of the graphics and vids click to sources.
-Personal blog for Janika Banks.
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Tuesday, December 12, 2017

superfans


Here are the holidays, yay! I'm on that holiday slide, keeping my arms and legs tucked in at all times while the blur goes by me in loops and gut wrenching drops, and somehow I'm still coherently available when needed. I'm otherwise wondering how nearly 2 weeks just went by me when September took a-EV-er, as Bunny says.


One of the things that saves holidays for many of us is all the new coming out. New toys, new gadgets, new movies. Lotta new. We need all this new before the Big Sad comes after the holidays, and suddenly it's taxes and payments and failing resolutions and a whole other year to watch deflate.


Some of us don't get into all that. I keep my inner world pretty flat. I watch people all around me go through bipolar swings that make my actual real diagnosed derp look like fluffball pancakes. I could have said rainbows and kittens, but I'm hungry, so you get pancakes. Anyway, holidays kinda do that, mass seasonal mood swings and most of us are in some kind of tandem.


Name it. Sports has Superbowl coming, and then March Madness. Entertainment has a slew of awards shows lining up after all the new movies come out for holidays. Mass inebriation, mass misdirection, mass brainlock, anything to keep us going. Some of us tune out (or never tune in), but many of us are locked into step on the medias, talking about the same things, kinda doing the same things, going through the ups and downs together.


Some of us in the background see all the things. We already know how to hang on. We sleuth through the days, lurk through the nights. We find all the things we ever wanted to know about players, celebrities, people we talk to on the medias. We're really good at digging up every stray word, picture, thought about whatever our obsession is.


My obsession is NOT Benedict. He's just a diversion. For me or for you, some of you wonder. lol


Superfans make a lot of what we find on the webs possible. They rabidly collect and sometimes channel for other fans. They tend to share what they love with the whole world. They are there with content in the long dark nights when no one else is up and you can't sleep. They give google and flipboard stuff to hand to you in search bars. They light up the night with stuff.


I am one of the superfans. True, I don't stir up content like I should on a more often basis, but I stick out the most in my fandom. Other superfans in other fandoms and I keep little eyes on each other. We watch each other's obsessions, we admire from afar, we notice details. Sometimes we lurk each other, possibly even casually bump into one another briefly somewhere. We're careful not to overstate our presence to one another, but we know each other knows we know they know we know, you know?


If you are having a hard time through holidays and very much need something new, possibly a very distracting distraction, I hang out on the Mo Creatures minecraft multiplayer server. I am Yablo there, and I like to build stuff and collect a few cool pets. It keeps me sane, it keeps my mind moving, and it keeps me interacting. You can be anonymous there and go kill crazy badass mobs, or peacefully fly around on a manticore enjoying your mod pack. You can say Hi, Yablo, and I'll say hello =).


Holidays are hard. Zone time is hard to find sometimes. Minecraft saves me from the pit of despair, the swamp of sadness, and the bog of eternal stench. If you are stuck in brainlock and need an escape, come find me. Let's play.

Thursday, December 7, 2017

ignoring the rowdy Saints watching party in the next room, like you do

click pic to get rickrolled, #bencongruity style
if you get lost, just come back to Pinky blog

play time
I pasted the code over from the last time I did this. I'm being lazy.


I think I'm bouncing back, just in time for the rest of the holidays, yay!


I'm taking it slow and still watching what I eat, but I'm already getting more done now than I was pre-surg.


I have been very surprised this last month, too, remembering past eps of certain shows that @bonenado has forgotten. It's usually the other way around. Some of the glitchy bumps are smoothing out.


Pinky blog got super spammed yesterday by auto-bots pinging off a travel blog in the U.S. and passing it off as Russia. Noob slammed me 94 times from one source like a piece of code was corrupted or something. Dork.


Of course, that's like issuing a challenge, sometimes I get spammed harder just for bringing it up. Whatevs. I could go into my analytics and block the address, but like I said, I'm lazy.


You know I'm really building a gingerbread house that all the crumbs are leading to, right.


Fake hits don't phase me any more. I'm cured.


Hang on a sec, I need to annoy a few people. I know right, like the last one wasn't annoying enough.


Ok, where was I. Oh, yeah, being lazy. I've run out of code paste without having to go get more or manually extend this, so see ya.



Tuesday, December 5, 2017

several blurs later

Check out this coolness.


Barry sent official letters, pretty awesome!


I need to look for frames. 😁

click for space humor on pinterest
So I'm looking at this movie reviewer's all-time stats since 2014 after reviewing 1,078 films (no one any of you guys know, but I found his Lexx review), and the only stats he has is about actual content, like 35 countries the movies he's seen were made in. As far as I can tell, the goal is to tic off as many movies as he can from several different lists, like IMDb top 250 and Oscar Best Picture Winners kind of thing, and in 3 years he has spent 1,847 hours watching these films so he can write little paragraphs and tic lists. That's his stats.

I, on the other hand, have no idea how many movies I've seen, how many directors I've gotten to know through their work, how many hours I've spent watching any particular thing or even all the things, but I can see that the thread with yesterday's review commentary that I put on SyfyDesigns.com has over 4300 views on it, that my Walking Dead think piece has over 13K now, and that my James T. Kirk homage now has over 17K. I can't really see where they're coming from, like I sometimes can on a couple of my own blogs. Today I got a street view of someone's house from stats on one of my other blogs, but that's really rare, and don't worry, I still don't have a clue who it really is.

We all do what we love, play the games that keep us going on this little blue planet. Whatever keeps turning this earth for us, right?

Every year I assess where I'm at, check it against how far I've come, and make a plan about how to continue. "The way forward is sometimes the way back."


From a year ago, give or take a few days.

I dreamed the other night that someone gently kissed me and told me to keep going. I won't say who, but it was extremely significant because it's not someone I'd ever have thought of on purpose, but definitely someone significant. I think I was being told to turn back to my original direction, the one direction that has always held true for me.

I have wanted to quit so. many. times.

I'm still not going to say who it was, but I will say that direction did hold true when all else was failing me this year. It's been a very hard year to stay focused and keep any kind of direction. Despite my facepalm super fail feels most of the year, reader spikes doubled and I pretty much just fell to my knees and onto my face wondering how stuff like that even happens.


I didn't know what to do with it, so I came this close to abandoning Pinky blog till the numbers dropped back to some semblance of normal, which took about 4 months. I thought about going after bigger tracking systems and roundly vetoed that with a few metaphorical slaps to my own face, and jumped clear into a tuck and roll while the stats thundered by, then peeked out of the bushes a bit after it kinda died back down. It's bad enough that I obsess over maps, and worse (or a blessing???) that my life has been upside down for the last 8 months. Time to walk away and not look at the numbers.

Best move I ever made. Got my breath, felt my brain start to purr again, tossed a little catnip out for it, and watched it start pouncing again. That felt really good.

So here we are, a 4 year old zooming around me

several blurs later, I finally got her to be still...
and @bonenado's show on the TV and the phone ringing and mama coming home any minute now and the next 2 hours of wonderful chaos reigning with a Christmas tree in the background behind my messy floors and dishes piling up on the counter.

I consider myself very lucky. I also think about my mom a lot. I wasn't shiftless or anything, because I worked hard, but I was selfish and spent many a night running with a rough crowd while she put my kiddo to bed after my own divorce, and I truly appreciate Bunny's mama not falling into that crazy life crash trap. I'm happy being part of this chaos because I see us being a team getting through a challenge together. I didn't know how to do that when I was younger.

I take full blame otherwise for my entire year diverting onto the slow track. I started off not feeling well and ignoring the real problem, thankfully that is solved now. I slugged my way against my own current and then lost myself in white waters, but along the way I found my joy, and that was exactly what I needed, so I don't count this year a waste at all. With that in mind, now I can properly assess.

Pinky blog clearly outstrips my spoonie blog, my fansite blog, my aspienado blog, my minecraft blog, I could go on, but it has never pulled in the specific high traffic like I get at SyfyDesigns. I should be over there more, and I do have good intentions. Currently in my background is a very noisy kid game going on, some kind of wack a mole music thing, and there is no place to hide in this house, which I call my spaceship. This is where I could argue with filmmakers showing personnel walking endless hallways in spaceships while they talk- my house doesn't have a single hallway in 3 floors of it, not even a very short one. It's the most efficient house you've ever seen. There is no escape. I can close a door, but anyone with a 4 year old in the house knows that's an invitation to be swooped on and winds up with all kinds of bouncing on beds and bringing #allthetoys and stuff like that. So when I think about needing to do stuff over at SyfyDesigns, I almost immediately collapse into exhaustion mode and crawl back to real life. But it's definitely priority. I've already lost a couple of lists about directions and goals over there, and I want to jump back over in 2018 with a vengeance. We'll come back this time next year and see if I laugh sarcastically or triumphantly.

I've never compared all my blogs in one place before, mostly because I barely work on most of them, but I'm curious what the all-time top post is on each one.

WordPress blogs

Arch Heretic- top post Stalking Mike Bilinski 101

Aspienado- top post Me and Willy Wonka, or, How I Learned I’m Aspie

DuckLordsOfTheSith- top post when the pecking order gets a little ugly

JanikaBanks- top post Help me choose an author pic

ExistentialAspie- About is the only thing available to read

Blogger blogs

Surveypalooza- top post Future Survey

spaz- top post things that have dramatically impacted my depression and anxiety levels

YabloVH on Minecraft- top post slain by brian

Lexxperience- top post Zev vs Xev

Pinky's Sox- top post The Sox of Truth

Staircase of Satan, Pond of Death- top post my Dear Jeff letter

That wasn't an exhaustive blog list because some of them have no tracking whatsoever any more (Xanga), a few more remain private, and one is unlisted and I'm not going to link it.

The point to assessing is to gather info and learn. On the blogs with very few posts, I was surprised at the incoming to the home pages (like people checking on the dotcoms themselves) were in the hundreds every year since I made them, especially on my two 'official' placeholders. One of those has been checked nearly every single day for 3 solid years. Had to put my eyeballs back in after they fell out. On the blogs with more goal-oriented directions, it was very surprising to find posts I didn't expect hitting the top all-time.

And then out of 1,111 published posts here on Pinky blog (this post is 1,112), my all-time top post now is summer syllabus. Most of my posts here average between 50-100, some hit around 300 once in awhile, but this was one of two that went over 2000. I'm sure it got caught up in the weird surgey spike last summer, whatever that was, but even then it was nearly double the other stuff also caught up in the surgey spike.

I'm not blogging to win points or make money. I blab away whether anyone reads this or not, because I do it for me. I am learning, though. I'm going deeper into me dredging out my closets, I'm getting a feel for what readers prefer in content, I'm finding out this whole #transparency thing isn't the big, bad monster it used to feel like not so long ago.

2017 was my sabbatical year, perhaps. I'm getting anxious to FOCUS! GET BACK TO WORK!

Monday, December 4, 2017

the Santa gets abducted by Martians mooby

pic clicks to some pretty cool posters
The facepalms this morning aren't stopping me. DO YOU HEAR ME, COSMOS??? *shakes fist* Just pleeeeeese stop throwing spiders at me while we're at it...

Somebody remind me to have @bonenado move my whole king sized bed after he gets home from work so I can get something that slid down the wall when I flipped a pillow out of my way. That's what I get for setting up mobile office in bed. I'm trying to feel lazy in between jumping up getting tons of stuff done. By 9:30 I had a sack filling up for a charity donation drop off, all our coats in the wash, a pie in the oven, an actual for real phone call about medical billing done, the coin bowl all sorted, couple xmas thingies taken care of, another quarter of my mountainside stripped down in game, and had started a couple of lists.

Just a sec, got all settled and all my little cells are going ~nope~, go eat some lunch first.

comes back with nachos

Ok, now I get to sort through my mangled screenshots folder for the #latenightmove grabs. I attempted to downsize and dumped about half the folder contents last week, and apparently the new incoming fills up the empty slots instead of lumping together at the end, yay, so "Screenshot(10)" isn't really "Screenshot(256)" like it's supposed to be, and the movie grabs are like scattered autumn leaves. Not sure, but I think this makes my third viewing now. Could tell a big difference between this year and years past. If you don't know about my brain crash-fog-glitch probs, 2017 has been my best memory and function year since 2004.


Before Tim Allen ever threw Santa off a roof, long before Elf helped Santa rig a jet engine back onto a sleigh, Santa apparently went to Mars. Pretty sure Elon Musk's parents were inspired by this movie as children, pushing him to be just like little Billy and go to Mars, too.


North Pole HQ looks different in every single Santa movie. This one looks ominously like the one in the Scrooged promos showing Lee Majors saving Santa years later during a missile attack.


We never did find out what that Martian headgear was about. That still bugs me, along with a very confusing plotline based on an even more confusing motivation. I think that's because I'm used to space shows being a bit more logicky nowadays. I want to slam this one by its lapels against a wall and ask how in the world they figured out their children were lacking happiness?


We are ALL still children on the inside. You know it's true, syfy400. I won't reveal your secret identity. 😂


I'm not good at Martian linguistics and proper naming.


You know how Daryl had to listen to Easy Street over and over? I think Kim Jong needs to see this movie a few times.


There's like a plot and a subplot behind the entire Santa abduction. Nowadays we'd get up to the minute tweets about staff changes during production, which everyone knows alters the whole atmosphere of a movie, so I can't help wondering if the start and the end are cobbled together in the middle after a long horrible night full of cigarettes and coffee around a writers' table.


The Martians didn't seem to know how to properly abduct (oddly grazing taboo all around, as it were), and probably only succeeded because children were so terribly polite back then. The only thing missing was candy and 'wanna see my puppies?' The brief gun pointing didn't frighten them at all. Were they brave? Bad actors? Cognizant of the script saying something about a gun? Did anyone know what was going on???


It's up to Billy and Betty to carry the story now!


I know right, how many of these did I get this time. Wow, really went to town on that screenshot button. By the way, in case you haven't been paying attention on the medias, Sophia has been granted full citizenship in Saudi Arabia. Inside the mechanical brain of the world’s first robot citizen


In case you don't know there reference, here you go. Rub Some Bacon On It 


I have no idea what I said. Missed getting a screenshot, lol.


Has anyone ever cosplayed one of these guys at a con? Because that would be hilarious.


I honestly don't even have a clue at this point. It was like some random person came by and picked up a camera while everyone was on break.


I mean, Martians turning on each other, it was a madhouse.


There is an actual Klinger Controversy about Jamie Farr really being in this film or not, in case that eats you up inside.


Santa is pretty devious, it turns out.


Aaaand that is forever burned into my brain now...


Ok, that got way long with 19 screenshots. *wow* Maybe all the junk I was going to meander on about should go into another post, lol.


Friday, December 1, 2017

ironically stymied back to the stone age

That's not my house, but this is my street.

The good news- the entire subdivision will soon have fiber optic, maybe even before Christmas.

The bad news- I can barely pull internet at all till that's done and my data plan is nearly out. If you don't see me, I'm suffering boldly through this.

Thank goodness I can still pull in youtube, but it's slow and has to stop and keep loading. Oh, well.

Thursday, November 30, 2017

North Korea is going to get coal in its stocking

The article that pic clicks to might seem unnerving, but at least it's not Skynet.
Whiny robots are unacceptable. Whiny robots irritate people. #transparency is one thing, #uglytrewth is another. I will quickly power point the current root causes for whine and move on.
  • Post acute withdrawal syndrome. I'm only 2 weeks out from surgery, and less than that back off opioids.
  • Nasty headache.
  • Lost more weight than I went in with because virus on top of recovery and couldn't eat much between the two, imagine how hungry I am.
And now I will entertain myself, like I've been doing for years when I actually had no one to talk to.


Stick Death Run - Push the Death-O-Meter to the limit

Goes to this-

click the pic to get to the game

Or how about an HTML5 version of the original Lemmings game, including the original sound?



But you don't have to load the game to listen to the music!


So when you have arthritis in your cervical spine and a history of trigeminal pain and they do airway for surgery, then have you lay in one position for extended time, the resulting fibro flare is off the wall once the drugs all wear off. Not whining or anything. Just saying. The Lemmings music in my headphones is helping. It's like a brain stim to distract me from paying attention to my nerves pinging over and over like BBs pelting the side of my head.

What was I posting in the old super pain days? Lemme jump back a few years and grab something.



Oh, here you go, my old Sikes and the Alien Nation (all the youtube vid codes got wiped in the Xanga server move). You might not be able to see that on mobile. And that post led to Gary sharing something I put into another post at EMP threat- imminent? Interestingly, just yesterday North Korea demo'd they can reach anywhere they want now with a missile, and next comes a nuclear warhead 'test'. You guys know that 'testing' a nuclear warhead in the atmosphere above the U.S. would knock our power grids offline, right, not to mention the fallout. So I was saying that back in April 2009.

Well, full circle I guess. I ran into Treat Me Like An Athlete, and I'll pull part here and leave it at that. This is an excerpt, because I was still voraciously super wordy back then and this is only a part of that. Bluejacky wasn't a top blog or anything, but got really good traffic on some things, and it was the first blog I tried being both public and myself on, although back then I never shared who I was anywhere else.

Ok, guys, I felt mean the other day, so I'm gonna partially retract and make an apology, but not because anyone got hold of me and demanded one.  And I'm not doing this to get attention from anybody, because I've got recs and comments turned off anyway.  I made a post called 'puny' blogs, which I still stand by because I'm aspie and that's the way my head works, but I can look back and see that it was still a punch below the belt, and I feel like that's not who I am and how I operate.  I'm not trying to do ~this~.

And here I put South Park's infamous cripple fight, which is now blocked for content rights stuff, but here's a snip.


I'm a big believer in the whiny crabby people being the ones who survive.  I have watched others 'wisp away' under the burdens of their illnesses, and even though med info pages on the internet insist that things like lupus and fibromyalgia are NOT terminal, those others I knew have passed on already.  I'm still here, and my whiny crabby butt says hell yeah it's killing me, and dang if I'm gonna lay down and let it.  I'm not against anyone talking about their stuff on their blogs, that was NOT what the 'puny' blogs post was about.  I've got a private blog popping with my crap, and the reason it's private is because the things I say there are things that help me survive, and that includes my black side, my bad attitude, and all the mean feelings that come out on my really bad days.  I don't want to share that with the public.  To me it looks like a big tangled mess of ugly confusion, probably because I see it all the time.  To the few allowed to sub there, it probably looks more like endlessly long boring posts about being sick all the time and every little thing that bugs me, which is probably a real drag to read.  Aspies can be notoriously wordy.

This next part is a big deal. Very few people dare to stick out there and really be REAL without apologizing or masking or faking or fighting. Just being real.

So it's only fair that I bring out where I'm at *right now*.  I created this blog to share information, to 'be real' about stuff like Asperger's, but as I've pointed out in a couple of posts, I feel the Asperger's is what's giving me the edge on surviving the illnesses I live with because I notice patterns and obsess over details and collect information to the point of being irritating.  So this week I'm going to assess what my situation is as of August '08, and then map out my plan of action for dealing with my stuff for the rest of the year.  If you have chronic illness and feel like you are spinning your wheels in the mud, this is how I have survived 20 years of lupus, severe fibromyalgia, and a variety of complications that include things like Lyme disease, heart surgery, and a really wacky immune system.

Kinda what's been happening this week. I'm talking to myself because no one else wants to talk to me like this.

The cold hard truth about illness is that it sux.  Just like with my Asperger's, I pretend to be 'ok' or 'normal' with my illnesses, too, because I learned real fast no one likes a whiny butt with a bad attitude.  That's the real me, but I can't be the real me without people walking away in disgust, and I have learned to hide the howling blackness so I don't scare the straights.  But the real me is the survivor.  I don't whitewash the crap I go through to myself.  I punch the virtual walls and grab myself by the collar and shake me.  There is a piece of brain that refuses to go down with the ship, and thank God I go through the really crabby stuff, because I think it has helped save my life more than once.

I actually do this to people that I love-

Because, damn it, it takes a mean person to survive a mean disease or illness.  And my gut reaction is that any time I see someone else whimpering with their pain, I want to kick *them* into full blown whiny shit kicking mode, too, so *they* can survive.  This isn't about life sux so someone owes me something.  This is about Indiana Jones hanging off a cliff and climbing back up.  It's about Jack Bauer breaking people's necks after he's been tortured nearly to death.  It's about Cat Woman getting fed up and raking her claws around rich bastards.  It's about ~*~surviving~*~.  I personally know a woman who wisped away to her death, refusing to make the necessary changes in her life that would have made all the difference and possibly given her 20 more less miserable years, in spite of surgeries and medications galore.  There are a number of corporate conglomerates, insurance companies, and pharmaceutical CEOs who aren't going to like what I have to say in this post.

True story.

Yes, the imagery helps.  If your senses are too delicate for this post, go away, and don't pretend to feel sorry for people you don't understand.  True story.  Years ago I was working in a hospital.  I was preparing to put my things away and step onto an elevator to move on to another floor when a couple of older ladies stepped onto the elevator with me.  They were dressed in nice clothing, had nice hair, nice jewelry, but they were not being very nice.  The lady they had come to see was on the cancer floor, and since I'd cleaned her room earlier and spoken to her, I knew she was terminal any time, and that she was distraught with a number of issues about being afraid, stuff about her family, feeling all alone since her husband died, etc.  So the ladies on the elevator (probably from this woman's church) were disgusted that they had taken a really expensive beautiful flower arrangement to this sick woman, and she hadn't even said thank you.  She had gone on and on about something going on in her family, and she didn't even acknowledge that they came out to visit her and bring her flowers.  And I'm standing there thinking- You expected her to be a gracious *hostess* on her death bed????  My God, people, the woman is ~dying~, and you're griping about her failure to say thank you for the flowers.  And that leaves so much wide open to wonder about, like how those nice ladies could judge someone in need like that and think they were better than her because they played a *social game* correctly.  They weren't really there to comfort a dying woman.  There were there for brownie points.  And I can't help but also wonder if the church paid for the flowers, in which case the nice ladies were even that much more ugly about getting that thank you.

Srsly how I feel about comments. I don't need pats on the back cheering me on. If you can't get out there and plow walls with me, just stand back before the bricks fly with me tearing that wall down.

So if you've never known anyone personally or yourself lived with chronic or terminal illness, your advice is not welcome here.  (My mom used to be very eager to give others advice on vitamin E and herbs and stuff  without any experience or medical knowledge whatsoever, so I'm a bit sensitized to that kind of zeal.)  This is partly why I turned comments off.  I don't waste my time with ignorance and pretense.  It's my 'aspie way'.  I am who I am and I don't care if someone gets upset about it.  The rest of you who agree with me, thank you, but I don't feel the need to show that off to anyone by hosting it in visible comments.

I go on, but that's the gist of it. THAT is where it originally all started. Pinky blog is a continuation of Bluejacky. Bluejacky is too gut punchy. Pinky said tone it down a bit.

click pic for more memes
Now where were we? I started out looking for fun, wound up with nukes and a crabby rant. I need to get back on track. I was thinking that maybe in December (tomorrow) I need to go in a different direction than last year. Last December I did a countdown thingy and facepalmed midway over the archive stacking up with identical title beginnings, and by January I was just weird. I floated into dissociation land and wound up on handfuls of meds and then spent nearly the entire year dealing with ignoring a real problem (surgery this month could have been done 9 months ago) and winding up with multiple problems swamping me because I was over medicated.

pic clicks to interesting demotivational collection
And I'm still talking too much, but surely I'll be cured by the time someone is free to hang out on game later, if all works out. My internet was pretty sketchy today. Thankfully, a fiber optic crew has been out this week getting the entire subdivision prepped for a massive fiber optic installation, and their equipment is all parked up and down the street in front of my house. They made it to my house just as it was time to stop and go home, so first thing in the morning it's going to be noisy. Can't complain though if I wind up with fiber for Christmas.

I am admittedly worn out from this post. I just want to lay down for a bit before I get on game. Hopefully I don't fall asleep and miss anyone. I'll pass along what got shared to me today, it's really cute.

Sunday, November 26, 2017

sapios


So I'm juggling all this stuff last couple weeks, like 8 days out from surgery was actually babysitting a 4 year old all by myself, so you know I'm pulling a pretty good fake with this. We've had this crazy holiday week supporting her mama pulling extra shifts as a sitter in ER, which is really what it's all about in lots of families having problems coping, and on top of everything out of the blue last night Scott asked when I'm going to get that Mantrid post done, because it's been two years.

😑 Right.

Tomorrow will be 13 days since surgery, and I am crazy bizzy. Bunny says that when she twirls, she gets bizzy. Granted, today was my first big ohHELLno guts waking up and realizing something is really amiss, and it was a fun watch me sprint day (and a really fun race fail), and those of you who've had gallbladder surgery probably know exactly what I'm talking about. I'm finally able to eat again, but for about 3 hours everything was all-stop and red alert low grade pulled me over and asked me if I knew how fast I was going, and I said Hold my apple juice and watch *this*.  Dishes done, laundry done, executive decisions made about remodeling my player shop, Walking Dead watched. #Crushinit. I'm just thrilled my stomach is allowing a handful of mozzarella cheese shred before I go to bed.

I wish we'd had the term sapiosexual about 20 years ago. I've tried to put a finger on why Scott and I work so well, and basically it's exactly that. Funny this got a reject on it 5 years ago and now it's everywhere. Clicks to source.


Six Signs That Prove You're Secretly A Sapiosexual That article is seriously one-sided but spot on. Scott wanted a 'college girl', well, he got one that won't shut up and he's still here. Early on I was intrigued how differently he uses his own brain, actually kind of brilliant about a few things once I got past the dyslexia (I'm merciless, but dang it, he's so cute saying and spelling stuff wrong).


And thanks to Ken Jeong retweeting during the live tweet, that one really took off.


~wild subject change~


Lemme 'splain. My dad was born in the wrong century and refuses to keep up with anything remotely techy, so he's kind of like a cross between an alchemist and a scientist about how the world works, and of course disaster looms because prophecy. He actually literally measures the yearly winter solstice with a pin in a wall that the sun setting through a window casts a moving shadow on, and he marks where the last of the light is with the date. And this year is a month ahead of last year. You know, because like orbit problems maybe. I immediately wondered if the land under his home must have settled or something, this entire area is karst with loads of sinkholes and you can see the big fields drooping away from one particular highway that I drove for years, and they were definitely not doing that when we first moved here. Anyway, naturally I can't help diving into the search bar and reading what I find back over the phone, since NASA obviously won't tell us the truth about what's really going on (you have know idea how thankful I am that he's not a flat earther), so in case you're curious yourself, the winter solstice doesn't necessarily fall on the exact same day every year, and the way it's measured isn't about where the sun falls on a spot on the wall.

December solstice 2017 is the 21st
"Why doesn’t the earliest sunset come on the shortest day? The December solstice marks the shortest day of the year in the Northern Hemisphere and longest day in the Southern Hemisphere. But the earliest sunset – or earliest sunrise if you’re south of the equator – happens before the December solstice. Many people notice this, and ask about it... By the way, the latest sunrise doesn’t come on the solstice either. From mid-northern latitudes, the latest sunrise comes in early January."

It's a bit confusing because it's not about the light we see at what time, but about the length of the day that we have light. I don't know if my dad measures the sunrise as well, but he's adamant that the yearly solstice must be exactly like the year before.

10 Things About the December Solstice
"Most people count the whole day as the December Solstice. However, the Solstice is actually at a specific moment - when the Sun is exactly overhead the Tropic of Capricorn."

Probably lost a few wanderers during that, but basically it demos my sapio thing. A LOT of people love knowledge. They love it so much they'll spend lifetimes pursuing it. If you are one of those people and wanting to find a good match for a lifelong relationship, make sure that person is cool about the obsessions you love. If you're going to have to BE HOME at the exact same time and date every single year to make a mark on a wall, make sure they know that.


Oh thank goodness, I finally just yawned. OH, almost forgot. I dropped outa #latenightmovie last night because I was so fried, but at least I can now say Yes, I have seen the Star Wars Holiday Special. I made it up to the cartoon, at least. "The special is notorious for its extremely negative reception and has never been rebroadcast or officially released on home video."  Like one of the gang said, it was more like a Pink Floyd experience than anything.



K, I'm about to fall over now, thank goodness. I need sleep so bad.

Friday, November 24, 2017

emotional consorts

click to Get Peanutized
I've been thinking for a long time about how social media has created new ways to connect that no longer fall into traditional roles. I've been on the internet since 1994 and have seen it all in so many varieties of ways that I'm convinced traditional roles in societal norms in developing civilizations over tens of thousands of years catered to the purpose of crowd control, when all else is brushed away from the archaeological bones of our anthropological history as a human race.

I remember my mom being on the phone quite a bit on some days when I was a kid. We shared a party line with several neighboring houses, about ten miles out of town along a rural highway. Back then we didn't know anything about depression and how connecting helps people get through rough days. Telephones were probably a godsend to her on some days, but none of us really understood the need. Our world was pretty black and white back then.

I was in the 9th grade when we moved to another state. My best friend and I snail mailed each other faithfully 3 times a week for a little over 4 years. I'm not exaggerating that at all. I had a huge box full of letters that documented her half of our unending conversation, and when that conversation ended, I was so lost that I completely shut down emotionally. It took me years to understand why that particular friendship was so deep.

In the mid 90s I jumped into the email trend, which was basically a lot like twitter in slo-mo, and wound up in fan groups and forums quickly after that. I had never had so much connection in my whole life. I cannonballed with so much gusto into connecting all over the place that I irritated a few people with my splashing, but I loved every minute of it. I didn't learn how to emotionally connect, though, until real faces started showing up with all that connecting. I had no idea what to even do with that, but I learned very quickly that's when it starts to hurt. It took more years to figure that part out. I had to learn to be more careful and play nice, and I'm the first to admit that my idea of careful and nice back then were not careful and nice.

I ran into a wall one year that disconnected my whole world, and everything felt like the rubble in the wake of the Nothing in Neverending Story. Several horrible years of rubble went by before I decided to give up and walk away. I was on the verge of deleting the very last of the rubble when Something Happened and shook me awake in seconds. From that moment I have intensely interrogated myself and studied how to get what I want.

I made a Plan and got back into the internet, learning to swim all over again, trying new ways of connecting. People are real, and I need people. I've spent most of my life so alone inside of myself. I have felt several times like if I didn't find a way to connect to my own humanity I would wilt and die inside. I cannot connect if I'm alone.

Part of my motivation was unclear at first. I had to keep reaching deeper and deeper inside myself, pulling out ripped up shreds of cast off emotions I never dealt with. My survival skills were a lot like the Walking Dead, shoot first and walk away, or just go another direction and disappear so no one can find me. I've done that both in real life and on internet. I am really good at knowing how to just go away. Part of my intense self questioning vomited up a very ugly self righteous gloater that didn't have a clue how to care about other people (my narcissism diagnosis, guys), an emotionally distant loner buried deep in obsessions (my autism diagnosis), a sad cynic who refused to believe happiness was nothing more than a lie invented by social structure controlling people (severe depression), a tiny child terrified of monsters and shadows and water and death (anxiety and dissociative disorders), and an overlord squeezing all of that together into a tightly controlled survival unit that blew apart after a string of viral illnesses affected my brain.

I watched everything about me fall apart as I raced time to keep dissecting, keep laying it all out in autopsy, keep looking for all the pieces I need to make all of this functional again, because without a coherent goal, 'I' simply have no meaning. My soul is a tattered shred on a crusty plain in a very long night. There is nothing else laying around inside myself that I am able to see that gives any part of me a tic mark in a box that doesn't say 'FAIL'.

Except to tell the stories.

There is redemption in honesty. I think that is inside all of us. Humanity is a story. We are all stories.

HEAR and attend and listen; for this befell and behappened and became and was, O my Best Beloved, when the Tame animals were wild. The Dog was wild, and the Horse was wild, and the Cow was wild, and the Sheep was wild, and the Pig was wild--as wild as wild could be--and they walked in the Wet Wild Woods by their wild lones. But the wildest of all the wild animals was the Cat. He walked by himself, and all places were alike to him.

That paragraph clicks back to source.

I need each of my people in each of their individual places. I can no longer slot people into categories like a tackle or embroidery box. Each person I connect to is unique to me and in their very own slot in my mind. Each slot has its own kind of personal reason we are connected, and I will never be able to go back to the traditional slotting of genders and roles and whatever else people get labeled with. Each and every person I've ever met seems to have grown into their own thing inside of me while I have taken myself apart, and as I put myself back together I can see now that the only way any of me goes all back together is by intersecting the connecting lines of other people with myself. I still feel all the same feelings about each person now that I did years (or days) ago when we last connected, and those feelings never change, even though I keep changing. Each person I have encountered has helped create who I am now, and I could never go forward as a soul being severed from that.

One of the things I've learned over time is that no one person can hold all my feelings. I am a wildly oscillating passion of obsessions with very little natural social intuition, so when my emotions, whatever they may be, blow up into roller coaster rides, the only way to survive them is to spread myself across as many friends as possible as quickly as I can before one unlucky person gets yanked into the roller coaster with me. I'm afraid I'm only just lately over the last few months becoming cognizant of this, so apologies to a few people who've been dragged in front of the bus with me, and especially one nobody really knows about who has actually been surviving that in real time.

I am part of what I now privately think of as a small tribe of emotional consorts. I can see now that the one person I needed and pulled into that crazy upside down fling needs to reach out and balance with others who need to know what's going on for the support system to work. I can be very selfish when I'm stuck in my tunnel vision, but to get what I need the most, I need that entire support system in place. I'm still getting used to this idea.

This is all new to me, but I think it's what I've been missing and needing all my life. I just never knew how to be part of a little group of close knit friends. It's exhilarating. And I think that's how it's supposed to be. It's not about rigid roles in labeled slots, and I don't think it ever has been. Psychological health in homo sapiens sapiens is about the connect/disconnect. Before there were societal norms, there were little groups interacting without labels, without rules about roles. Maybe aspienado kicking at the cart all these years was simply about persisting in my quest to find other brains that mine can fit with, without all the junk in the way. Like the first friend I faithfully wrote letters with 3 times a week for 4 years. She was popular and had lots of friends, and she was my only. She incorporated me, the others moved over, and I dismissed them a bit (I accepted and talked to each of them in school, just never thought of them as *my* friends), but maybe it's time to finish growing up. I run with a pack now, and we take turns stepping aside for each other. I got that a bit wrong on the medias, but I think I'm kind of getting it right now in the background. I sure hope so.



Tuesday, November 21, 2017

just enjoy the game

you get far enough down 'thanksgiving walking dead meme' in google search, you forget why you were even there
I got lost in that search last night before I caved and went to bed. I think I'd go to sleep faster with a brain chip letting me mindlessly cruise nonsense.

So last week today I was 203 pounds and super calm before surgery. Within 24 hours I'd zoomed up to 215 on IV fluids and whatever my body started hoarding because it must've thought I'd been attacked by ice picks and had a piece of me stolen slick as slick. That was a little alarming so I looked it up, guess it's common to do that with surgeries, basically just take good care of yourself and let the fluids sort themselves back out. Today I am down to 206, which is fantastic compared to some people in the med forums, and apparently means my kidneys are in great shape chugging it out, yay! And that is why you wanna take care of your kidneys, people.

Another thing I learned, since I'm not a surgery queen and usually stick to the more mundane whiny chronic stuff, is that an ileum is about the last thing to come out of the whole knocked out stupor, and everything trying to leave ahead of it is like the worst traffic pileup you ever saw. I wasn't given after care instructions on anything diet or digestive except start slow and eat what I want. By day 4 I was becoming an expert on looking all the things up, and after all the stuff I've read from every point of view imaginable, it really doesn't matter a hill of beans what you eat and you should always have a bottle of milk of magnesia on hand anyway. Softeners and hydrating didn't work at all, moving around more while slacking off on pain meds backfired into every conceivable regret, all the correct food in the world can't make a difference if it's at the back of the line, and probably the only thing I'll do next time I have surgery is stick to clear fluids the last 12 hours or something. At any rate, we're all very happy now. If you've got a friend or family member going through surgery and don't know what to do for them, trust me, a bottle of milk of magnesia is pretty wonderful and will make you the hero.

And then of course, I just started typing in whatever question popped into my head into the search bar. How long do my incisions hurt after gallbladder surgery? Hundreds, maybe even thousands of people had asked the same thing. Some people hurt for weeks when they sneeze or move wrong or sit too long, so grain of salt, I'm keeping in mind that I got stabbed by ice picks and there are lots of little nerve endings in skin and the tissues underneath because being able to feel stabs kept our ancestors alive longer and they probably fought back, ducked and dodged, or ran for cover while I was knocked unconscious and purposely stabbed under some big lights. That stab memory will probably always be there locked in the tissues now, and it'll just become part of my overall nerve pain disorder if it becomes bothersome. Other people yapping about weeks later sneezing took a big load off my mind. It's easy to imagine the worst when someone else pokes a hole in you.

And I got to thinking, it's funny that people will let their gallbladders go defcon and become emergencies while they ignore them, but then fret over ever little sensation while they heal after surgery. Humans are weird.

Bottom line, if you're not taking good care of yourself before the surgeries start rolling in, don't expect to heal on demand kind of thing. And the opposite is true, too, ran into a lot of people getting back to their workouts too quickly and winding up back in surgeries to fix rips in what wasn't done healing yet. Y'all need to chill. Just because you think your body should such and such in your mind doesn't mean you're the boss of reality. Just because people are going back to work in 3 days or a week doesn't mean everything super healed super fast and you're a chump because you can't live up to a rumor standard. As far as I can tell, it all sucks, we all suffer, and it all takes time.

When I was in ER earlier this year, hanging out for a few hours in the waiting room, there was a guy dripping blood down his arm who had managed to elude everyone and went straight to the public coffee cart. I was mind numb with pain in a wheelchair after an ambulance ride, still waiting to get triaged, everyone around me pulling back from this guy and I'm parked right there. I just smiled and said You need to keep pressure on that. I mean, crazy or not, I'm probably crazier, so who cares. He got bashful trying to cover the blood dripping and getting coffee at the same time, evidently priorities are a problem in his brain, and he said he pulled his IV out. I laughed and said It's not like TV is it? I did that once, ripped it out in a bathroom, blood everywhere like the zombie apocalypse. And then everyone around us started relaxing and people finally found the guy and got him to the police desk to get his arm bandaged, and someone else cleaned up. I cleaned in hospital one year, I had no problem with that blood. I am OSHA trained and cleaned stat contagion many times all over the hospital. I was also the only one who talked to that man like a human being. The rest was just funny to me, but I thought that part was sad.

Around Thanksgiving, Americans make big deals about going to homeless shelters and feeding people. There were plenty of people in need around me in that hospital waiting room. One woman was clearly homeless but very organized. She had a travel case with wheels and a couple old pillows tucked into the pull out handle. Everything she needed was in that bag, including a book. I take a bug out bag with me nearly everywhere I go, too. I feel safer when I have all my little comforts with me if I wind up stuck some place waiting for something, like having my car worked on. When pre-triage came out to get her vitals, she clearly stated she was there because it hurt to pee, and apparently knew how to get help about it, was probably the best behaved person in the whole waiting room because she knew how to stay out of trouble. Conveniently, it was also better than being outside in the cold. I'm sure she knows every public area open through the night all over town. On my own really bad days when I can't stand being alone, I take my bug out bag and go hang out at the library or the hospital, some place big where I can move around a bit and still have facilities and people around me. I used to hang out at the airport when I was younger. I don't think I'm alone doing that. I think a lot of people hang out all over town like that. Some people go shopping and don't realize they're using the excuse to be doing something when they really just want to not be alone. When I retailed, there were customers who knew the store better than we did.

If you don't know what to do with yourself or your life and you want to be helpful, go hang out at a hospital on a holiday. Just move around from one waiting area to another, check out the coffee shops and gift shops, notice the families camping out around births and deaths and horrible accidents and cancers and stuff. And then go check out the opportunities board and ask about volunteer positions. Volunteers are awesome in big buildings. They train you to help move patients in wheelchairs after check in, or answer questions at a desk, or other stuff. A lot of places have volunteer programs. You don't have to just do it on holidays and twiddle your thumbs the rest of the year.

This meme cracks me up because I saw someone actually do this on a minecraft server, just purposely dump a lot of leveled up diamond armor and weapons into a deep ocean after a bad day. Sometimes you let go of the material stuff and just enjoy the game.

click for diamond memes
I've got Bunny tomorrow while her mama works, and Papa's work is having an employee cookout, so I think me and Bunny are going to try making shortbread cookies. I'm stuck with gluten free flour and no xantham gum, and it hit me that shortbread might be the ticket. There are no eggs or leavening, just 3 basic ingredients, and from there I can add gingerbread spices or melt chocolate chips into butter or whatever, and we can do cut outs and colored pinwheels, and I also found a shortbread spritz, so we can get the cookie press out, too. I haven't had a real cookie day from scratch in a long time, and I think tomorrow will be a really good day for that.

I've also been getting my own Turkey Day menu assembled, getting that cooked up today so I'll be out of the way tomorrow. I'm making cornish hens with homemade herbed biscuit and cornbread stuffing (yes, all gluten free, super allergic to wheat), a mashed tato and steamed broccoli. I'm going to record Macy's parade on Thursday in case Bunny misses the balloons, because she's high energy and will probably be too excited to be that patient. I stopped my pain pills so I could save one for tomorrow and one for Turkey Day, so today I'm having a little bit of a withdrawal headache, but I'll be ok. Me and opioids probably go back through several lifetimes, I'm pure addict on those, and have mentioned my love for vicoden in the past outweighing my love for anything and anybody else. If you know someone who has quit drinking or doing drugs/meds over the holidays, please be kind and gentle with them. They won't be feeling well because it's a real bitch dealing through that thick haze of suck, and it takes awhile to get through it. I still crave every single day and it's been at least 25 years since I quite drinking and smoking, plus here I am back on an opioid for surgery and doing low dose xanax this year staying mood stable (I check in regularly with both psychologist and psychiatrist). Holidays are very stressful. If you're stressed out, then you know the person in withdrawal is very stressed out, too. Not the best time to talk politics and religion. If you can't just enjoy your family over a nice meal, maybe make other plans that are healthier for your mental and emotional function.

Sorry so wordy, this might be my last chance to hang out on Pinky blog for awhile. Not sure how the rest of the week is going to go.

Love you guys. All my people. You know who you are. 💕


Sunday, November 19, 2017

'Murican conspiracy turkeys

There's a room I keep in my head where it's always this. No matter what else is going on in real life, this is tucked away from the first time I heard it many years ago, and every time I play it back in my head I think about all the people I've met (both online and real life) and how glad I am I got to know them.


I'm the sort of person who took a very long time to figure out I actually had friends whether I realized it or not, and I usually didn't because I'm such an aspienado pinhead. I spent years autopsying every relationship I went through until I finally started noticing that I'm the dork who takes dolls apart and sets them on fire. If you translate this to people, I do it while they're still alive and trying to be friends with me. I'm sure it's been a little odd at times.


The comments on that vid are delightful, btw.
  • I'm pretty sure this is how they greet you in Hell.
  • This is the one song that will be burned into my mind until the day I die.
  • I love this, subtly alluding to the children being lured to their planned deaths.
  • I remember the first time I saw this movie I laughed like a madman at this part and my mom was so concerned
  • 1:03 a reference to laughing in ''I am the walrus''
  • Is it me or do the instrumentals for this song sound similar to the Silver Shamrock song from Halloween 3? They're by no means identical but for some reason that's where my mind went during this scene. -Me too.
Anyway, I'm coming off a week of coasting through brain fragments on happy pills, and I can't help noticing how much I deeply care about all my people lately. I struggled for years, some of you saw that happening on twitter and this blog, and it's like this year my junk finally settled into place and now I kinda get it all now. I get me. I get that I'm a roller coaster slinging around other people's heads and I'm the one who looks blurry, not you guys.


Context relies on experience over time. I have 5 years under my belt now, my glitchy head is getting more reliable, I'm remembering better who everyone is and where they're from and what their situations are, and most of all, I'm managing to organize this info into my memory closet in real time nowadays. I have these friends here, those friends there, we like to do this and that, and it makes a nice little spreadsheet of activities I can look forward to each week. So much of that was a mixed up blur for so long, even at the beginning of this very year I could still barely keep names and locations straight, much less other kinds of stuff that makes hanging out better. I remember when I thought Penny was another child, kind of a private joke going back a bit. But yeah, it's like years ago asking people in real life at work or down the street about something they said and they look at me weird because they didn't realize they left me dangling assuming I understood, when my brain was naturally concocting more interesting stories about their lives behind their backs just to fill in missing info. One person was shocked when I asked whether her daughter was her husband's daughter too, or someone else's. I get very hung up on pronouns and names not being used interchangeably to denote shared relationships because hey, autism, so little things kinda made me the weird friend people wound up tiptoeing away from eventually. I have no problem accepting that everyone's got some level of hash slinging slasher in their past, so it's up to you guys to make sure I'm not running off perpetuating myths of some kind.


Well, ok, except for Mike Bilinski. He might really be some kind of *cough* interesting *cough* or something, so always keep your spatula handy.


Now that I've explained myself, I feel more comfortable asking these questions about some of my sketchier friends-
  • Does Kurt keep *ahem* guests tied to, wait, I mean locked in, no wait, I mean on an extended visit plan, yeah that's it.
  • Is Phil one of those retired dudes who runs a barside pool party? Because I wanna be where he is.
  • I'm kinda getting the feeling Jinni knows where all the good dumpsters are for body emergencies, and always packing cute little cookies and a thermos in case the nights get long.
  • I find it comforting that Lisa could be part of the mass brain training entertainment wave before aliens really do take over and recreate our society without a Vermont. Except I'll miss Cabot seriously sharp cheddar cheese. I wonder if she knows Benedict Cumberbatch. Pretty sure he's one of them.
  • Are Chris and Tammy siblings? Cousins? Secret agents spying on us?
  • Is Cindy in league with the Martians??? 😲




So in a few days it's a huge holiday in the U.S. and nearly everyone will be busy or comatose on the feasting, so before y'all hit the highways, I just wanna say be safe. This has been a challenging and sad year for a few of us already, so pleasepleaseplease stay safe. 💟💖💗 Especially you fun grillmeisters trying out turkey frying equipment for the first time. Show me some purty turkeys on facebook, not big lumpy bandages or something. Get those turkeys thawing! Do NOT toss a frozen bird into a deep fryer!!!! Yes, I feel like I have to say that. This year has been a little too ripe for facepalm. 🦃