caught with my claim flags down- *permed*

My braindeadedness today feels like deep fried calamari and side of coleslaw. I am choosing not to go full aspienado hard shutdown because I'm actually the least likely person to make the noise level worse. One is asleep because overnight job, another is staring at football, I am utterly drained of manna, and a 4 year old is prattling nonstop and remodeling my kitchen into a 'house' of 'pets' defined with an afghan spread on the floor as the rug, various containers and toys posing as pets in their beds, and at the moment the mailman is running around the house announcing "mail! mail!" and handing out quarters. I got 2 quarters, representing the most mail. I bet they're bills. I'm not inclined to check. I was up 19 hours (that's nearly 24) before my 5 hours of sleep last night, and I can't handle bills right now. I'm just thrilled that she's in a good mood and entertaining herself.

Irony is when twitter sends you a long email yesterday letting you know your account qualifies as an item in the U.S. Presidency-Russian scandal investigation and sending a happy little tweet today about it being your 5th anniversary on twitter. It's actually been longer, but I closed a couple other accounts further back. I think I go back to at least 2008 on twitter, technically.

Couple of quotes from that email include, oh what the heck, here's the whole thing. Notice it's from their legal department.

In which my freedom of speech violation is hinted at.

In which it is suggested that I am part of these malicious accounts.

In which I'm let known that people don't come to twitter to see ME.

I addressed this issue publicly over the weekend. This next shot clicks to twitter source, which in turn clicks to the post I wrote.

I handled that while I was vigorously multitasking- cooking breakfast for several people, handling chat help on an international game server, looking after a 4 year old, and getting ready to race out the door to an event.

I made friends with the wrong people. They are Russians. Twitter unites us around the world, and I've been friends with a number of people in a TV show fandom (international production) since 2005. We have a history that goes back across forums full of dates and timestamps. I am very publicly documented in google search in this fandom.

And now I am apparently a possible enemy of the state. Because I am friends with people on the other side of the ocean over a 20 year old TV show. Because I used a public international social media host to be friends with them. Because, of course, every American must now be investigated in this ridiculous scandal conspiracy if they are friends with Russians.

I don't know if other fandom representatives (I'm not official, but very obvious thanks to a lot of web presence) got emails like this. A lot of us on twitter are friends with worldwide fans of all kinds of TV shows. Stargate is a great example.

Heads up, America. It has begun, whatever 'it' is. The Big Brother thing that people have been freaked out over for decades. I really hope social media isn't about to flip into something very ugly.

#transparency- I didn't vote for any of the leading candidates. I voted for someone who had already withdrawn from the presidential race. I didn't want to have anything to do with anyone who is currently in office, and I am neither for nor against any of them. They run the country, I don't, and it's all the same to me.

I have legally documented multiple disabilities. I choose to stay busy with a fandom and a game server. Both are international. I have friends all over the world. I have been visited by well over 150 countries on my blogs since 2004. This has never been a problem before. I wonder why it's a problem now.

Facebook, Google, Twitter: How tech giants are involved in the Russia investigation

News about #russiagate on Twitter

Do social media threaten democracy?

This following is months old. I wonder how big that number is now. I mean, I've recently been included, so... who knows.

Twitter finds hundreds of accounts tied to Russian operatives

Going back to an old favorite.

all my best pix are taken in bathrooms

Today is kind of my very last assessment day for one year on this blog, and I can't think of a better way to celebrate and thank you guys for clicking my links than to dig up my bathroom selfies and maybe find out the stories behind them.

Before we start, first of all, I never dreamed this post would hit all time top. Ever in my wildest dreams. I'm blaming whoever is in the Ukraine. Ok, and the rest of you guys, too.

(Explanation: it was originally an Easter egg post and exploded once people found out it was there.) (But you still don't know the answer to the riddle behind the pun.)

Second, I really am blown away by the view count. I've done everything in my power to weed out spam, bots, pingbacks, and crawlers between three trackers, GWT, and Google analytics, and I'm left with 35 countries coming in on every conceivable device and even logging in at work. (Be careful, some of you might not be aware your work ISPs actually name your companies.)

Ok, down to bizness. I know some of you are facepalming about selfies in a bathroom, but considering how long I went on the webs without posting a single selfie because I'm one of the most reclusive introverts you ever met in your life (I know, really hard to believe now, right?), I think it's pretty cool of me to make you guys think I've overcome that hurdle, just another way I toy with your minds. Plus I was inspired by Jenny Lawson writing about hiding in bathrooms, because I've done that all my life. Click the pic for the book. Click here for her blog.

All my selfie pix will click to original posts.

This is my 'professional' pic at linkedin. It was taken in a bathroom at Mercy hospital in Springfield, Missouri right after I had a 2-day holter put on, and I found out later that while I was taking that pic, I was experiencing bradycardia for the first time in my life after years of SVT and surgical correction, so if I was goofy enough to take this pic just because I thought it was funny, I blame it on poor oxygen delivery to my brain. I think I figured out later I must have accidentally taken my blood pressure pill twice that morning, and no wonder I was so loopy driving into town. And then I thought it would be funny to use a 'stupid day' pic as my professional pic because it truly represents my life so well. This is aspie spoonie executive jetsetter. That and I love mocking professionalism. I can't get through a day without shredding hosiery to save my life. I've retailed professionally. I left that off my linkedin profile. On purpose. Even though I was really good at it. (They called me the Bra Nazi.)

aspie spoonie executive jetsetter

This one was taken at Mercy Fitness in the locker room by the bathroom stalls. I'm not a mirror person, rarely stop to even look at myself, but one of my first experiences as an aspie kid waking up to a sense of objective self was in a department store fitting room with opposite mirrors. This was one of my first pictures coming back out public after years of health fail, this time as a self integrated Pinky, one year before I went completely public on my first Pinky blog. No more private blogging. Ok, there's private blogging, but it's called writing a book now. Everything that's not book material goes public out of my head in real time.

Same fitness center, different day. Actually three months earlier (2012). I was wearing this awesome Lexx t-shirt. I thought this pic was funny enough to put on facebook, and a friend of mine who wrote this book told me I look mean, lol.

Yep, my bathroom again, and this was one of my first public Bluejacky pix in a 2008 post that now resides in my aspienado work blog. It's kind of a big deal since it's right in the heart of about 3 years of really rough health fail and I actually got a decent picture.

This is from a series of photos what wound up becoming my G+ avatar representation. I think they're hilarious because it's so really me and I don't give a crap what people think. My sexuality is ambiguous, partly because I'm allergic to makeup and my hair was still just coming back in, plus I really loved that old shirt. This was taken Thanksgiving day (2012), and I was home alone waiting for my crew to come back from the Turkey Trot. From that point was a jolly little compulsive jaunt into finally setting up a Google account, which now officially verifies all my Lexx stuff. Yes, from a bathroom.

That's right, I've been Lexxing from the bathroom for years. This is from my guest bathroom looking out onto the kitchen way back in 2006, after I received a bunch of autographed stuff from Brian Downey, probably about 6-12 months before the big health fail first started its slow avalanche. If I made this public anywhere I sure can't find it, unless it's in a Lexx related forum somewhere, so this clicks to my pinterest.

Notice I didn't put it in an obvious spot, and it's 3 years old now and still hasn't been liked or repinned. I buried it. Sometimes I tuck things in little pockets of spacetime to see how hard people lurk through my stuff. (My most repinned pin has over 500 repins. My most repinned fandom pin has over 300. My most repinned board overall is Lexx, but it doesn't look that spectacular unless you add up all the repins from over 200 pins.) Anyway, my point is that I successfully buried my most personal fandom photo in plain site (until now), and you never know what you're going to find sitting around in my stuff.

I had a niece who would hide a note or penny behind a picture frame in hotel rooms. My daughter hid little random notes to me throughout empty spirals for me to find later (and dated them) and never told me, and years later I still run into them. *snif* So it's kind of a family thing. We're sneaky people. We say I love you in mysterious ways.

I've got more bathroom selfies, but I think that's probably enough. These handful span about 7 years.

I just want to say thank you. I'm feeling mushy and gooey right now, which has been a rare thing most of my life until stuff really started opening up here on my public blog the last few months.

There IS method to all this madness. I'm very serious saying there is a real Plan. Also, I'm getting lots of help from a Bunny today. It's taken 3 1/2 hours to cobble this together in between very busy girl stuffs.

I'd also like to thank #MondayBlogs and Rachel Thompson who created it and especially Vicki Addesso for dragging me into it until I got a clue. I know I'm terrible to tongue in cheek mock analytics and stuff, but these are rock solid real people coming through that pipeline, and it is definitely appreciated. I try to remember to pin blogs I like onto my 'Blogs I like to read' board, but many of the cooler #MondayBlogs in the feed slip past me, so click that last link for the feed.

Bunny just went down for a nap and I need a brain cleanser so bad. Laterz.


Completely forgot to mention the reason I'm smiling in my twitter avatar is because I'm in a bathroom. (Per a comment, my twitter avatar pic is NOT a mirror pic, omg, plz to not make me asplain why I'm smiling.)

Sorry, I'm back. HAVE to add the Sharknado tee selfie I took in bathroom in a Houston restaurant and loaded to facebook because a person actually snarked me coming in the door as white trash. Hellz YEAH.

my Klout pimp says I'm not whoring enough

I hadn't visited Klout in awhile and boy howdy, was that ever a surprise. After nearly two years of hovering around the 60-64 range (and sometimes higher), I find I've dropped to 59 and have an admonition awaiting me about not blogging enough, even though I'm leading the twitter pack in the point-one percentile. I'm in the tippy top of the top 1% of blogging "experts" (according to Klout), and I'm not blogging enough.

And I'm apparently an expert in several dubious fields, including Batman (eat that) and Benedict himself. If Klout knows so much about me and Benedict, why doesn't it know about my *cough*prolific*cough* blogging, even though I've got my blogger connected??? #bencongruity

I think Klout is punishing me for not claiming any of my perks this year (I should sell perks) and not playing the game. I've apparently been bumped from my bottom bitch status.

So I guess I'm going to dig in there and learn the new game rules and see what the crap it takes to get my 64 back. I'm actually in high number Klout lists on twitter. I have a reputation to keep up.

I really do have a post called #blogwhore, but it had more to do with my months-long angsting over an old friendship on a public blog than blogging. If you are stuck and needing a good long story to get you through an even longer week, start here and piece together my ragged past along with me. In the meantime, I might look into Klout's tweet scheduling and start hyping my own content.

Spork

Random thoughts from my weekend-

Wouldn't it be cool if we had search engines in our brains? I could type in "How old is my Ghost Hunters shirt" or "when did I buy my Ghost Hunters shirt" and bing, answer right there. I'm trying to remember. It's so old now I only use it to sleep in, looks pretty rough.

In other news, I ran into a barely seen somewhat beautifully done alt Trek pon farr fanvid, and glancing down the list of moar stuffs on the side there was a vid that had both Spirk and Spork in the title, and I'm all like Ok, who the heck else is part of a Spork menage, so I put it into a search bar and dang if I didn't come up with actual Star Trek sporks.

There are even ~get this~ Spork t-shirts. This one is unavailable but clicks to more that you can still get. You're welcome.

And then, of course, doing a 'Spock spork' search was just insane. This one clicks to an ST meme board on pinterest.

I'm still so innocent...

Someone figured out how to move stuff and hide behind furniture with her apples.

Someone else cruisin' for chicks in pre-gamer mode, all tatted up.

Tent happens. It's a thing.

 

Spent part of the weekend attempting to wrap my head around what I've got written so far. Couple of sections will be obliterated/changed, the rest is mostly like jagged leaps from stone to stone across a river. I write like I read, apparently, inside out and backwards. I'm to the point, though, where I can now go back through all the old blogs and spirals and permanently check stuff off as what's left gets transferred. Most of the really raw writing is done, I think. It hit me as I was organizing that I've probably got the hardest part done now. The rest will be more like time consuming refiling. After all the blog salvage I've been through, I can see me being more comfortable with that.

Rachelle Gardner says in her Memoir Guidelines that my autobiography can be as long as it wants but thinks it would be polite of me to stop on the shorter side of 75,000 to 120,000 words. Chuck Sambuchino thinks "Coming in a bit low (70-79K) is not a terrible thing, as it shows you know how to focus on the most interesting parts of your life" but says definitely stop at 99,999. Virginia Lloyd thinks 90,000 is a reasonable limit, but says if one goes over 100,000 it must be compelling material.

I'm currently at 84,000. There are two sections that might get chopped out and replaced, and I'm pretty sure I'll be adding at least another 20,000. My contract (seriously, guys) says I can go to 300,000, but even I can't imagine going there with an autobiography, even though I never shut up on blogs.

I'm dealing with such layered material that it's been a challenge to actually write it coherently in a somewhat organized fashion. None of it can be stated simply- my parents believed in 'breaking' a child to learn obedience without question, and since I 1- have Aspergers and 2- went on to get a sociology/anthropology degree, I can speak for both inside experience as a child and outside experience as a mother that this doesn't work. Unless you're into actual programming. Which isn't that far of a reach, I'm finding out. Throw in some other crazy stuff and yeah, I've got material that'll curl some hair.

I know thangs.

In the meantime, not sure if leaping from obsessing over Sherlock to obsessing over Khan is a healthy direction, but it's certainly inspiring for world domination. I'm in a pretty twisted place right now. Time to GET TO WORK!!! >=l

nachos and world domination

Gregory won't stop calling. Evidently he doesn't read my blog.

This whole week is flipping upside down, more in slow motion but kind of like the way one of Loki's leviathans does after Hulk smashes into it.


We might be seeing a lot of Bunny this week. You can tell she's the boss.

Batman is taking over at his house, too.

At any rate, this seems like an excellent time to switch gears and tackle one of the toughest code smashes I've ever had to rewrite, and it's taking for~ev~er. I am literally pasting line by line it's so bad. I'll hafta wait to get back to world domination till after Memorial Day weekend, I guess. It's all good, I've got stuff out to make nachos later.

flashback of a feeling

An update in haiku and limerick.

April has been surprising
I joined the Sherlocked
And unlocked my mind.


The words washing over my soul Keep pushing me toward a goal Like macrame weaving I keep on believing   In spite of the strain   And continual rain That I will soon become whole

Secrets kept hidden Bursting through my brain While I dance for the public

Hard writing only confirms
That feeling of wrestling worms Into a fake can Marked "Written by Jan"   To spring in surprise   At my poor readers' eyes And splash up their brains with my germs

I also found Benedict Cumberbatch's Sock Fetish on tumblr.

not quite there yet

The weekend was crazy fun, wasn't it? The twitters were rowdy, the movie chats were even rowdier, my gangs are awesome, and I love all the people.

Twenty days into the Lexxplosion, eight days past the hypomanic-induced epiphany, and now comes the metaphorical final rending of the heart, because the rest cannot be written without metaphorical blood. I'm intentionally avoiding being all-out dramatic because I know some of you have triggers. I do, too. I have been plowing through and dealing with an astonishing amount of continual triggers that have me wondering how I've made it this far in my life without completely self destructing. Not for the lack of trying, please understand, but for the ignorance of myself being a sort of morbid bliss that allowed the time needed for ripened aging. Metaphorically. But please don't crack an oak barrel joke. I have an oak tree just off my front deck that is in full orgasmic surge and my eyeballs are oozing down my face, which is making a mockery of my melodrama.

In all the 2 million words I've collected across public and mostly private blogs, I have never yet written down a particular thing in a public way beyond mentioning in passing and burying under piles of other stuff, mostly because 1- I haven't been able to bring myself to do it, and 2- the last thing I want is a blog post drawing heavy comments, which it certainly would. I have met a lot of people saying a lot of sad and horrific things. I've been through sad and horrific things. But I have never run into another person who knows what to say to this sad and horrific thing, or has any way of identifying with it. It's a rather unique kind of experience, and you can tell I'm screwing up my nerve to get it written out now, can't you?

The challenge is writing sad and horrific without toxicity overload, without veering off into directions opposite of my goals, without creating a reader stain that becomes its own selling point or some kind of statement that skews expectations of why I'm writing. I daresay blogging one's innermost darknesses are becoming somewhat of a fashion trend for those whipping up content creation to further their own representative presence (blogging circles are the new Maury Povich/Oprah/TheView internetainment), and while I don't mean that unkindly at all and wholeheartedly agree it's important to share our experiences and truths, what I do mean is that mine wins and this isn't a competition. Mine can't go on a blog without being curated through a publisher first, before reaction and response turns it into something else.

The real truth, behind all the other truths, is known only to one beta reader and my family right now. Soon we'll see why it's important for me to asplode the whole world in the most cunning evil villain way possible. I checkmate, or I go home.

blow the airlock!

Yesterday's post broke the all-time scare record in one day flat, thanks to #MondayBlogs. I learned everything I know about blogging from Monsters University. Just do what you gotta do and blow the door.


Awesome word 'airlock' in our retweet game last night led to me finding this. Big wave to Holly, her Layla kitty is about to pop.

So I finally jumped on my own media newspaper, tweaked it so my friends show up a lot, cracks me up how geeked out some of the sections are getting. I'm discovering the 'paper' is like a daily super filter, way better than a tweet deck of any kind that shows all your favorite streams. The paper makes it easy to glance through a whole bunch of links my friends thought cool to share, whole page of photos and videos clustered in one place, click-glance-click-glance, way faster than zipping through a twitter list. Best thing of all is it's FREE. I'm not done tweaking it yet, but we're getting there.

Been seeing more people tweeting lately about weird dreams. I know holiday stress has got mine going off the wall again. Last night I dreamed the Doctor's 20 year old son had a twitter account and he was trolling around the fandom like a jerk, and all the parody cat accounts followed him around adoringly, just like cats rubbing on someone's leg. Another bizarre dream had me inside a giant scrabble game on another planet fighting bogeys that were dismantling the words I was trying to spell. Given that Wabble is down, yeah, I'm not surprised.

Yesterday got a little weird. Usually when I hit a wall it's a general brain falling out and dragging around like a limp noodle kind of thing, but yesterday my arms hit the wall way before I did and I dropped, smeared, sloshed, and knocked over things like I had manikin arms. I've never been diagnosed with an actual arthritis, but I did a lot of thinking yesterday about people getting through holidays, probably mostly behind the scenes, with arthritis in their hands and shoulders, shooting pain or sudden numbness that lends all caps to the word 'KLUTZY'. All it took for me was wrapping a stack of boxes and addressing a pile of Christmas cards. All you moms and dads out there who still have kids in the house while you're managing a medical diagnosis or two...

Back to the countdown! I have 6 days till we get Elfnado. This was her on her first merry-go-round at Silver Dollar City this last weekend.

Ok, now I'm just stalling. Time to get my second cup of coffee and get moving!