But People Want Happy Posts

I know it. When people read a blog on WP, they’re looking for happy posts that make them feel good. And I try. I post memes, jokes, stuff that might bring a smile.

But I don’t feel that way. I rarely feel that way. And as the pain in my neck and back from the accident refuses to subside, creating a feedback loop of pain>stress>anxiety>more pain, I feel even worse.

Yesterday I was overwhelmed with this thought: Everyone that you know and love will die. You will watch them die. You will suffer for them and mourn them but there is nothing that you can do but watch as they disappear. And then you will slowly forget them. First you’ll forget their voice. Then their face, the things they wore, good and bad times that you had, everything, it will all disappear like a sandcastle during high tide. All that will be left is a gravestone that people step over to visit other gravestones.

I know this for a fact. I can’t remember much about my grandfather, who died 22 years ago, when I was 18. He’s a mirage, a glimmer in my memory. I can’t remember my mom’s voice. She died 5 years ago. I’m having trouble remembering Valerie’s. She died four years ago. Soon they will vanish as if they never existed.

And the best case scenario is that we die first, so that we don’t have to endure those losses.

Anyway, here’s a funny meme.

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Officially Butthurt

You heard me, folks. I am officially butthurt…

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Last week I was stripping my bed, and I tripped over a pillow. I lost my balance, but I knew that there was a wooden chair right behind me. No big deal. There were papers on the chair, and they would cushion my fall. Rather than reach and scramble, potentially twisting or spraining something, I went with the fall.

I landed on the chair, but on the edge. Somehow I missed all of those cushiony papers. All I hit was hard wood (phrasing!)

Now I have a bruised tailbone. I don’t know if you have ever bruised your tailbone, dear readers, but it’s a real…pain in the ass (get it? GET IT?). Worse, it takes a long time to heal, I’m assuming because you are almost always putting some sort of pressure on it.

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Original cartoon here

So I’ve been walking around gingerly, making sure that when I sit down or get up, I do so gingerly, avoiding the bruise. It’s not going so well.

The main problem is when I sleep. I am an active sleeper. I roll around in bed, and when I do, I roll right over the bruise. It’s been affecting my sleep even worse than my pre-butthurt insomnia. Today I woke up at 4:15.

At least I’m being productive with it.

Don’t worry, I will keep you posted on the state of my ass. I know that you’re dying to hear all about it.

Hey, did you know that I had two novels published (and a 3rd on the way). Did you know that they are heckin good (as the doggos would bork) and are doing me a proud? You should read one. You should read both. Hell, just read something that doesn’t come in blog form (except my blog. That’s cool). You can pick up my historical fantasy The Watchmage of Old New York or my dark sword n sorcery Song of Simon at any bookstore (they’re order it for you) or on Amazon, Barnes and Noble, or most online sellers. They are both getting excellent reviews, and Watchmage even received a 4 of 5 star critique from Writer’s Digest (from a recent contest. I didn’t win, but that puts me in some rare air.)

Note: My publisher for Song of Simon is currently having problems with it’s printing company, so they’re not producing more books. If you have one, congrats. It might become a collectors item.

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SoS Practice Ad 1

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NYC Pride Parade

On Sunday I went to the Pride parade in NYC, what has become a yearly tradition for me. It runs right down 5th avenue, so you can imagine what it does to traffic. Then again, that’s what parades do.

I went with a bunch of friends, and we always set up in the same spot, right in front of Madison Square Park (no, it’s not by the stadium. Madison Square Garden used to be by the park, but they moved a few times. It’s now above Penn Station). We got there early so that we could be in the front row. As usual, it’s worth it.

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Uneasy Riser

I don’t need a rooster to wake me in the morning. My cock is the sun (hehehehe)

Everyday I wake up the moment the sun comes over the mountains (did you know that the suburbs of NYC are all mountains?) like a troop of boyscouts singing a hiking song (why do they do that? Do trees like music?). In the winter it’s not so bad, but for the past two months, I’ve been waking up at 5, even 4:30. Today I was up at 5:15. My brain is boiled like an authentic bagel (no steaming!!!!)

Heck this heckin nonsense. It’s doing me a significant frustrate.

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On the bright side (no word play intended) I start work early. On the dark side (I love that song), I’m exhausted and unmotivated all day. Only the lure of catching Pokemon gets me outside.

BTW: I just hit Level 31 in Pokemon Go. That makes me super cool.

I am supposed to be promoting The Watchmage of Old New York. No motivation. I’m supposed to be writing a list of questions for my editor. No motivation. My motivosity is on the fritz.

This is why I can’t write nice things.

Heck. Need coffee.

coffee surprised

doge in space card redux

My Gramma

Today my gramma turns 100. While that’s amazing and rightful deserves a party, my gramma isn’t the woman that I remember. Ever since my mother died a few years ago, she’s gone downhill, like she lost the will to live. And yet her body refuses to let her. She has been in constant pain for years from diabetic neuropathy. Over the last year, a series of blood infections have done a serious number on her brain. My gramma was also a kind person, very involved in local charities and organizations. Now she does none. And she’s no longer kind. My aunt gives her nurses weekly tips because she is such a handful.

We’re having a party, and I am very worried about this. My gramma lives in a Bronx apartment. Small and awkward. And the entire family is coming in. I expect about 30 people and decades of family feuds.

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