Originally…

2014-12-252014-12-25 Miss Poison Being Real, Honesty, Musings, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Spirituality, Writing Being Real, Honesty, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Writing

Originally, I prepared a post for today that, after sleeping on it, I realized could be considered quite offensive for some of my readers. In an effort to be respectful and courteous, I’m going to file it away for my portfolio and not post it.

I’m not a “Lets hurt as many people’s feelings as possible and lets to do it intentionally” kind of person. I’m incredibly direct and blunt. I don’t have much of a filter, and sometimes that can seem “harsh” to some or “angry” to others when what it really is, is me being me and being real. I’m not a fan of dusting life in sugar. That’s not honest.

Religion and the differences between them is a very touchy subject. Not for me, as I am always open to a theological debate, but for me it’s more about spirituality, not so much anything else. It’s about explaining things to people so they aren’t walking around completely ignorant. Alas, I don’t want to offend anyone, so I’m going to keep my mouth shut. So yes, it was a holiday related post and I do realize it could have come off hurtful as opposed to honest and humorous. Not everyone understands my humor, and that’s okay.

There are words being used today that you will not see on this page. Ever. That is my choice. I try to be polite and respectful of others, which is precisely why I’m not posting what I originally wrote.

Instead, I’ll go back to my regularly scheduled cooking and reading. I am trying to finish up The Bane Chronicles by Cassandra Clare (Interesting and entertaining, if you’re considering it.) and Sons Of Anarchy: Bratva, which is basically like reading an episode of the show in a book. And, as I said, cooking. If nothing else, I still have to “feed the people”, or at least that’s what I’m told. LOL.

I hope everyone near and far has a great day. Be happy, healthy, and safe.

Grey Days

2014-12-20 Miss Poison Creativity, Honesty, Musings, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Writing Books, Clean Manuscripts, Editing, Honesty, Musings, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Writing

Waking up this morning, you never would have known it was 7:00 a.m. on a Saturday. It’s so dark out that even though rain was not predicted, I suspect it is getting close. That’s okay, because I like the grey days.

A ‘grey day’ for most people might mean depression, but for me, it tends to be more about creativity. I am, quite honestly, locked in my room with my computer. It’s drowning out all the bullshit and drama, and allowing me to focus on what I truly want and need to do.

Drawing out creativity isn’t something you can truly schedule. There are days you can sit and stare at the screen, and nothing happens. I try not to push myself. I write and revise when I am feeling it. I go over other people’s work because it’s my job, but it is also my job to write my own material and make sure it’s cleaner than a hostel shower.

I cannot begin to say how many times someone has told me they’re sending me a “clean manuscript”, and the end result is me wanting to yank all of my hair out of my head because it is riddled with errors and is anything, but “clean”. In fact, it ends up redefining the words “first draft”. Alas, all you can do is fix it, provide notes and suggestions, and then send them on their way. Once your portion of the job is complete, you’re usually out of the picture. Not so with your own work.

Book #1 is important to me (They all are.). It’s not the first thing I’ve ever written, it certainly won’t be the last, but it is important. If I’m putting my name on it, it cannot be shit because I will not allow it. Thankfully, I’ve been writing so long that I know when I’ve written quality and I definitely know when I’ve written “filler”. Since I don’t get paid to write “filler”, I also know when to cut. The writer’s group I belong to; it seems a lot of people have difficulties with knowing when to cut. I’m not a “Please read my book so I can get your opinion/approval.” kind of person. I’m a protector of the body of work until it goes into the editing process, and even then, I am protective of what cannot be cut under any circumstance. Basically, I’m protective until it hits someone’s e-reader or shelf. After that, everyone that reads it will have an opinion and they are entitled to them. Unless someone is an absolute troll, the best thing for me to do is my job and allow everything else to simply be.

A Hard Week Ahead

2014-12-152014-12-15 Miss Poison Anger, Being Real, Chanukah, Death, December, Family, Feelings, Growth, Honesty, Languages, Loss, Mondays, Musings, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Relationships, Right/Wrong, Stress, The Holiday Season, Things That Enrage Me, Thoughts, Toxic People, Truth, Writing Annoyances, Chanukah, Family, Honesty, Monda, Musings, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Stress, Writing

A Hard Week Ahead

Seven years ago this week, my father passed away. He bravely battled various forms of cancer for 15 years. Eight years “clear”, cancer resurfaced. It continued to be a battle on and off for the remainder of his life, which ended at age 63. Way too young. From year-to-year, I have mixed emotions about the relationship I had with him and a thousand other little, and not so little, things.

On a whole, this is an extremely hard time of year for me. I know for some people, they bury a loved one and after a few months or maybe a year or two, they don’t think about it much. However, I’ve been burying people damn near my entire life. I have next to no immediate family left, and unfortunately two members of my family have really pissed me off over the past few weeks, this was exacerbated early this morning to the point of me seeing blood. Extended family pisses me off, period, but I’ll save that story for another day.

Some people have trouble with the word “No.” or, “It’s 12:30 a.m., I JUST fell asleep, I am in agonizing pain, LEAVE ME ALONE until later. Let me fucking sleep!” I think they’re simple, honest statements and requests, but apparently some people struggle with comprehension. If I tell a person at 8:30 PM that I am going to bed, then I strongly encourage them to leave me the hell alone unless their issues fall into one of the following categories.

A) You are bleeding and I am the only person within a 10 mile radius that can help save your life.

B) You’re on fire and need me to help put it out.

C) You need to be bailed out of jail, and in truth there’s not much I can do until morning any way, so leave a message and call back in the morning. Provide pertinent info, I will find you. Believe it or not, they DO allow you more than ONE phone call.

D) You are drunk and have no money for a cab. I will send one your way.

E) Someone has died, in which case, please leave a message because I really do need to sleep to be able to handle this in the morning.

I think those are pretty fair categories, but some people are anal-retentive and cannot listen to simple instructions. Consider what constitutes a TRUE emergency by emergency standards and proceed accordingly.

My second family issue is with a person not thinking before they speak, talking down to me, being disrespectful regarding someone they do not know, and making demands that I find over the top for someone who has not known me their entire life. Moreover, after well over 10 days of pure silence from my end, they call or e-mail acting like NOTHING is wrong, but they include an additional demand that just plain makes you want to smack them.

Generally, if I don’t respond to an e-mail within a few days, it probably means I am BUSY. I do work and I DO have a life, but in some rare cases, I am ignoring you for a while so that I don’t tell you exactly where to fly and how high. 98% of the time, it’s truly just the fact that I am busy. I almost always call people back if they’ve left me a message, BUT if I don’t call you back within 1-7 days and have repeatedly explained that I am not feeling well and that I am going through some heavy shit, respect that answer and stop shoving yourself down my throat.

Unless you are my brother, Aunt, or one of my dearest friends don’t EVER call me at 10:00 a.m. on Thanksgiving Day and assume I am “spending the day all alone” because that’s how your day is going. I hate assumptions, you know what people say about them, so just DON’T. By the way, I was COOKING, so I didn’t have time to reach over and spend the next 7 hours “chatting”. I think my days of speaking to people I barely even like are 100% OVER. If I take the time to call someone myself, it’s genuinely because I want to speak to them, care about them, and like/love them. The list gets shorter by the day.

On an entirely different subject, it is starting to annoy me when people use languages I don’t speak as a means of “good wishes”. English is my first language. I am well know for saying thank you in Italian on a consistent basis, no matter where I am. I am also well known for answering the phone in Italian, Spanish, or Russian. These are simply things I do, BUT it’s not out of an attempt to annoy someone. In fact, I try not to do it all the time because I understand it can be annoying on the flip-side too. So why would you constantly do it to someone when you KNOW they don’t speak the language you’re using?

I have yet to decide whether or not to say something about it. In fact, the “demand of the day” is that I speak to the previously aforementioned person right about the time I plan on making dinner tonight. Mind you, I was not asked about MY schedule, simply INFORMED that she’d be calling between one time and another because that’s when she’d be home from all of her appointments today. I had a hard time not responding with “I’m NOT speaking to you right now.” I really want to tell her off, but I think it’s best said in a few weeks when I’m calmer. I really want to make a great meal tonight and do some Chanukah prep, so I definitely think pointing out all of these things is best kept for a post-holiday discussion. In fact, I think it’s good karma to rid myself of it before the end of the year.

If I’ve repeatedly said this is a hard time of year for me, you can either be supportive and back off, or simply let me know you’re available if I need to talk, but you don’t need to be a monkey on my back. I don’t respond well to tacky aggressiveness.

As we go into the holidays, do you have any family members that drive you absolutely insane and/or make crazy demands of you and your time? Or invite themselves over when you truly don’t want to be bothered? Please let me know how you deal with this insanity in the comments section.

Most Of The Shadows…

Image 2014-12-14 Miss Poison Images/Photos/Quotes, Life, Musings Images/Photos/Quotes, Life, Musings, Ralph Waldo Emerson, Standing In Your Own Way

Mid-Week Musings

2014-12-10 Miss Poison Life, Migraines, Musings, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Rain, Reading, Snow, Writing Images/Photos/Quotes, Life, Musings, Poison In Lethal Doses, Silver Birch, William Shakespeare, Writing

“This life, which had been the tomb of his virtue and of his honour, is but a walking shadow; a poor player, that struts and frets his hour upon the stage, and then is heard no more: it is a tale told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, signifying nothing.” –William Shakespeare

I am grateful to have been spared the snow that was predicted for my area yesterday. Yes, there was plenty of rain. Two inches of snow is expected between today and tomorrow, which is easily handled and doesn’t bother me in the least. I am incredibly grateful to be able to write in a home with heat, where I can nurse my injured feet (Don’t ask. I feel like I’ve been in six inch spike heels for a month!) and nurse my post-migraine stomach issues (If this happens to you, I highly recommend Zico Coconut Water. I’ve been religiously drinking it post-migraine for four years. In a pinch, Gatorade or Powerade will do, but they will not rehydrate you anywhere near as quickly, or as naturally, as Coconut Water. Zico is my personal preference after horrible experiences with some utterly vile brands.). I did manage to get some sleep, but I’ve been having the freakiest dreams and nightmares. Whenever you watch a TV show or a movie and you dream about it afterwards, you have to decide if it really affected you or if it’s simply the last thing you saw before going to bed. Sometimes, I cannot decide and it nags at me.

Writers are influenced by all kinds of things. I, personally, don’t ever like feeling like I am borrowing or stealing someone else’s ideas. I realize that everything under the sun has already been thought of at one time or another, but that doesn’t make it right in my eyes. I spend a lot of time looking for a more original angle or taking pieces of my own life and twisting them into good fiction. There should be some finesse involved, it’s not something that is easy, but once the ideas flow, the words flow quite well.

I am trying to finish reading two books before starting anything new. Unfortunately, even though I truly want to read both books, my brain just cannot comprehend words the way I normally do. I’m going to blow it off as a sluggish end to the year and not take it too personally. I can always break them out when I’m feeling better. No harm, no foul. It’s incredibly bizarre for me to not be able to finish a book within a day, or a few days, so this long period of time where I am staring at the same page is unbearably frustrating for me. I just might fail my Goodreads Reading Challenge this year, but I’m okay with that. It’s not the end of the world, just something I enjoy participating in. Maybe I’ll skip it next year, maybe I won’t, but I think committing myself to more than 12 books is probably a stretch, so if I do decide to partake, 12 it is.

I realize this is scattered and that my last few posts have been pretty sub-par. I have yet to decide if it’s better to not post at all or to post and be real. Today, you get the real. I’ll figure the future out on a day when my brain decides to fire on all cylinders.

All the best…..

There Are Days

2014-12-09 Miss Poison Family, Friends, Friendship, Honesty, Musings, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Relationships, The Holiday Season, Unfiltered, Writing Cooking, Exhaustion, Fibromyalgia, Holidays, Musings, Poison In Lethal Doses, Stress, Writing

There are days, weeks, months even, when I have absolutely nothing to say. It doesn’t mean I’ve shut down or that the thoughts and ideas in my head have stopped, it simply means I’ve got nothing to say. Sometimes it’s very individualized. I have friends I speak with regularly that I do not tire of, and others where I feel like they’re so dramatic and heavy, that I often need a break from them. This goes for family as well. Sometimes, you just need to step away and step back, even if only to give yourself some breathing room. In some situations, you need more breathing room than you do with others.

It takes a special kind of person to know when I am joking, when I’m being serious, when I need space, comfort, etc. Too many people think they’re so incredibly funny when they aren’t, or they think they’re kidding when what they’ve just said is a truly unhealthy thing to say to someone like me.

This isn’t a sensitivity issue. I have my moments, we all do, but mostly I’m soft with who I choose to be soft with and I am harder with those who have proven they do not deserve a softer side. Some people get a blend because that’s truly me. I’m a multi-faceted individual, I suspect many people are. However, I try to read very little into others because most people are just trying to be nice or polite. Others… Others have ulterior motives and they’re ugly.

There’s something about the holiday season that can either bring out the beauty in people or the ugliness. Right now, I am seeing a whole lot of “Run and hide!” I have no idea how people contain their crazy for 11 months out of a year and then unleash it for a mere four weeks, somehow magically reining it back in on December 31st. That’s a level of crazy I can’t comprehend. I don’t do multiple personalities in the sense that a person suppresses all of their issues for so long that they unleash it towards the end of the year like a bomb just went off. Not my deal.

I do think that when large quantities of alcohol are involved, people often use that as an excuse to be free with their words. I don’t. Whatever I say to you when I am sober is the exact same thing I’d say if I was having a glass of wine. I’m not a big drinker, but alcohol doesn’t change my personality in any way, shape, or form. I’d rather just say what needs to be said than later say I was a bitch because I had too much to drink. No, that’s not an acceptable excuse or reason to bring out the bitch card. I don’t care what time of year it is. If you’re going to drink to excess, make sure you have a reliable, safe designated driver or cab fare with you.

So, what am I doing right now? I am rocking out with a good station on Pandora Radio and trying to come up with some ideas for this lousy weather. Heavy rain is much more preferable to several feet of snow, but amid all this unpleasantness, my crazy ass has to hit the grocery store. In pain, on no sleep, and on empty thoughts. On the plus side, I did make a list when I WAS able to think clearly, so all I have to do is find it and toss it into my purse otherwise it’s pointless. The rain is a good excuse to not wear anything too nice since I will come home having to throw everything right into the washing machine. Trust me, it could be worse. I’m counting my blessings and taking the time to get my brain focused. I hope this fogged brain clears up soon. I can deal with a lot of things, but this is just plain weird, even for me.

I hope everyone is having a good start to their week. I am sure many of you are finishing up (or just starting) your holiday shopping. I was notified a few days ago that I am “expected” to get my brother a gift. All of a sudden?! I honestly want to tell him to go fly a kite. I am being hounded several times a day about this “gift”. What do you get for the person who appreciates little to nothing? Do not for a single second think I have not received extensive e-mails about this, all of which included links and instructions, because, in his eyes, I’ve never purchased a gift before in my life. <rolls eyes> Normally I do all the gift-giving and he does NOTHING, so to say I am annoyed would be a vast understatement. I have been informed that I am not only expected to give him a gift, but I am also charged with preparing a meal for the holidays. “I’ll help.” are the famous last words of ANYONE I know. I don’t like anyone else in my kitchen and I can’t stand anyone standing over me while I am working. Moreover, I have no ideas on what to make.

Chanukah food, traditionally, is predominantly deep fried or lightly fried, and unless someone else is doing all that deep frying, I don’t want to be involved at all. The thought of all that oil makes me want to gag. There’s nothing appetizing about any of it, so I guess I’ll just have to wing it next week at the last minute. I pray I am able to figure it out and that it won’t drain the rest of my life force.

I’m physically, mentally, and emotionally exhausted beyond words. All I truly want is quality rest. I know I’m not the only one hoping & praying for this very simple request. Bad weather is poison to Fibromyalgia. So while I love the silence of a rainy day and what it provides me, I do not love the way it makes me feel.

And off I go… Maybe to read until the rain dies down a bit more.

Is The Pen Mightier Than The Sword?

2014-12-06 Miss Poison Being Real, December, Finding Your Truth, Honesty, Life, Musings, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Stories, Words, Writing, Your Calling Being Yourself, Following Your Own Path, Honesty, Life, Poison In Lethal Doses, Writing

Is The Pen Mightier Than The Sword?

I was exceptionally lucky to be gifted with my writing voice relatively young. Being vocal with the written word is something that runs in my family, but for years, I kept things bottled up and didn’t have a lot to say. Being told “Write what you know, think, and feel.” is some of the best advice I’ve ever been given.

Having amassed 27 years of writing experience does something to a person. It makes you reflect back on the very early stages of who you were as a writer. I was so far from refined, it wasn’t even funny, but no one ever is. You can be writing for 50 years and there is still something to be learned each day. Writing is the gift that keeps on giving.

Sourcing inspiration can come from things you witness, experience, and simply living each day. We all have different stories to tell, yet it is based on a single common denominator; living.

I do like to stick to what I know. Facts and opinions are my bread and butter, and to some extent, they will always be at the core of everything I do. Fiction allows me to breathe new life into something that always plays itself out inside my head, much like a big budget film. I find myself enchanted and intrigued by all of the characters, all of whom are inspired by actual people in my life or people no longer in my life. With books, characters are often more relatable than a glammed up actress with false lashes on or the male lead sporting very obvious eyeliner (unless it’s Johnny Depp, in which case we sort of expect it.), but on paper, things flow differently. There are things that can be conveyed with the written word that can never be conveyed any other way.

Memories are often beautifully conveyed with words. As is common for me during this time of year, I look back on family members that have passed away and I can recall their mannerisms, voice, and the stories they used to tell.

My Great-Uncle Charlie was a solid storyteller. He would talk about his travels, his experience in the military, and he was so exceptionally bright that even in his 80’s, the stories could very easily take you back in history. For several years I would spend damn near every Saturday afternoon with him, and he always had stories to tell. At the end of his life, he paid me the most beautiful of compliments. It was like being seen by someone for the very first time, only now, he had a different type of clarity. I will never forget how precious that moment was or how it made me feel.

He was present the day I was offered a position at Morgan Stanley to be a stockbroker. I asked his thoughts on the decision, something I very rarely do, because I thought the idea was slightly ludicrous. He told me I had to choose to do what would ultimately make me happy, not what someone else thought I should do with my life. After much deliberation, I decided not to take the job. I believed in listening to his advice. I made my decision after he had passed away, and by doing so I was able to continue on a path that isn’t for everyone, but is very clearly my own.

Writing was my first true creative outlet. It was always my thoughts and voice, but it was, even from the start, way ahead of its time. Perhaps that is telling.

I have often been accused, even on this platform, of being “too this” or “too that”. The truth is, on my “regular” blog, I am way too tame. I see it each day, and it annoys me. I no longer post my work there, because I feel like it has been tainted in some way and even though I have worked on it for two years, I feel like stepping back from it and only posting things there that I deem appropriate is okay. So if you’re reading this, know that I’m not “too anything” here. I am myself. I won’t ever let anyone diminish that strength again, or attempt to take who I am from me with negative words. I need no one’s approval or acceptance, just my own. .

Is the pen mightier than the sword? Sometimes. What I have learned is that my pen IS my sword, and vice versa. It is my weapon of choice, of skill, of convenience, or complete and utter ease. My father used to say I could sell ice to Eskimos during the worst Winter ever, all with what I had to say. Maybe that is true, but having the skill to properly utilize words is one of the most precious gifts a person can have. It’s not a gift everyone is granted with. Sometimes it’s luck, sometimes it’s talent, but often times, it’s a blend of the two.

If my “sword” is too much for you, please, by all means, walk away. But for those of you who stay; You’re in for a fun ride!

Thoughts Through Other Eyes

2014-11-282014-11-29 Miss Poison Authors, Honesty, Judgment, Men, Musings, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Social Media, Thoughts, Unfiltered, Women, Writers, Writing Authors, Being Real, Best Face Forward, Honesty, Judgment, Languages, Musings, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Social Media, Unfiltered, Work, Writers, Writing

I am tired in a soul-deep, bone-deep way that I can’t quite explain. I know it is borne out of doing too much, too fast, without proper rest. Sometimes I forget that I have limitations due to Fibromyalgia/Chronic Pain and I simply want my normal life back. In turn, I suffer for every move I make in ignoring said limitations. Simply put, it BLOWS.

I hurt from the very top of my spine, which, by the way, is where my tattoos begin (Yes, right underneath my hair down a portion of my spine. Believe me when I say, they did not hurt. The entire experience was very positive. It felt more like being scraped repeatedly as opposed to actual pain, and who better to know the difference than someone who experiences pain 24/7? I sat for close to two hours. I have heavily inked male friends who told me their own ink in the exact same spot hurt like hell and had to be done in 2-3 sessions. They have less on their spine than I do.), all the way to the center of both feet. I’ve done a LOT this week. Now, all I want to do is get this mind-numbing headache and unbelievable stomach pain to stop so I can SLEEP. I’d also like someone to feed and water my girls, so I don’t have to get out of bed unless I really want/need to. What are the chances of the latter happening? Slim to none, and unfortunately Slim is very easily distracted.

I survived Thanksgiving, and did every single thing I set out to do in terms of cooking and baking. YAY! Of course now, I am happy to sit in front of my laptop or the TV for the next week, only moving when absolutely necessary.

An interesting job presented itself recently. I would get to use my little-used Russian in editing a pretty large manuscript. It sounds great, and yet, I need a few days to sleep on it. Yes, someone else could get the job instead, and that can happen no matter what, but it made me take a good look at my list of spoken and learned languages. I’m actually a lot smarter than I let on, but I’ve always had to be.

When you’re a writer, people judge you based on the work you present to them. I think this is true more so now than ever before, but at times, it doesn’t seem to matter at all if you’re presenting absolute crap, which is insulting to me.

You can walk into a business meeting looking like Stephen King, so long as the material is brilliant, no one will care. They might whisper about you amongst themselves later on, but they’re truly looking at the manuscript above all else. As a woman, it’s different. You have to be presentable enough that when you’re photographed for the inside and/or back cover, you don’t completely disgrace your entire gender. I cannot tell you how many times someone has told me how pretty a writer is when all I could think was “But is her work any good?” Not in a catty or bitchy way, but in a genuine “Unless we’re talking about Angelina Jolie, I don’t care what she looks like” way. I want what I read to be of a specific level of quality. I want it to capture and intrigue me. I don’t care what the author looks like. However, I have noticed that a great many people do.

The flip side of this particular coin is that more and more authors now attend San Diego Comic Con and New York Comic Con, along with similar types of events all over the world. There is a lot more social media interaction with readers and as much face-to-face interaction as you (and your publisher) see fit. Being comfortable in your intelligence and knowledge isn’t always easy when you’re, technically, competing for the attention of those very same readers because Jennifer Lawrence or Eva Green are also in the building promoting a highly anticipated film. Truth be told, I’d rather sit and listen to Eva Green too, but that’s just me. I’m slightly fascinated by her and have been for a good 8 years or so.

I don’t know a lot of writers that are absolute extroverts. I know a lot of very shy, quiet, introverted writers who can be extroverts for short periods of time, in the right company. While not exactly shy, I am definitely on the quieter side most of the time. If you happen to be discussing something interesting or something I am knowledgeable about, I MIGHT chime in, I might not. However, of late, I’ve noticed I’m getting some odd attention in public settings.

For the most part, but really only face-to-face, women talk to me purely about superficial things. Hair, skin, the nail polish I have on, my tattoos (Because I completely forget that they’re there and that they’re visible. I apply sunscreen to them, that’s the extent of my awareness most days,), make-up, perfume, etc. Men, on the other hand, ask different questions and approach you differently. I try very hard to be focused in my day-to-day life, but there are many days where I truly don’t want to have any type of debate while on line at the bank or discuss the price of gas, oil, milk, eggs, etc. I do not have “Has all the answers” on a t-shirt or my forehead, and yet, this happens to me constantly.

I like for my work to speak for itself, but I absolutely make an effort at putting my best face forward. I’d prefer for someone to judge me based on my work and who I am as a person, but I know that’s not how life works. Women are harshly critiqued on their appearance. It’s not something I’ve ever liked and I like it even less now. However, I realize we are all guilty of it to some extent.

By all means, be disappointed in something that doesn’t screw with someone’s self-worth and self-confidence, but don’t attack others for what is, in all honesty, a quirk of nature. If you’ve ever said something to someone that sent them running to a plastic surgeon to “fix the problem”, maybe you should take a closer look at yourself because raining your issues onto others is one of the most unattractive things one can do.

Just not lest ye be judged. Be true to yourself and don’t worry about anything or anyone else.

Overreaching

2014-11-272014-11-27 Miss Poison Chronic Pain, Exhaustion, Fibromyalgia, Honesty, Musings, Pain, Pet Owners, Pets, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Thanksgiving, Writing Cooking, Family, Fibromyalgia, Food, Friendships, Gratitude, Pain, Pets, Poison In Lethal Doses, Relationships, Thanksgiving, Writing

I decided a few weeks ago to forgo all the “traditional” Thanksgiving Day fare. I did not relish the idea of dealing with a turkey when a good half of it would end up in the garbage or making stuffing because I made it last year and there is simply NEVER enough stuffing one can have. I’m a carb fiend, take my word on this. FYI for all pet owners: Do not give your dogs or cats dark meat, it’s too rich for them.

Alas, I came up with a different idea. It’s a great idea. However, after a very long day of shopping in two different stores for everything I needed yesterday, I woke up this morning (way too early) and had a moment of utter panic.

What possessed me to think that chopping 7 pounds of vegetables would be “no big deal”? I’m more concerned with my Fibromyalgia, because it is flaring up BIG TIME today from my neck to my ankles, than I am about my skills with a knife (I already sliced myself last night on a mixer blade.). I will have no choice, but to take breaks in between each veggie (there are 4 in total, but there is, obviously, a LOT of it.). My only “plus” is that having had a migraine yesterday afternoon, which required medicine with caffeine to abort it out of my system, I was left wide awake into the wee hours of the morning. It was around 10:30 or so last night when I decided I was “awake, therefore I should bake”. It took more time to mix up the batter than it did to bake the two cakes I made. I thought they were awful, until I tasted the 100% cooled product this morning. It’s a little like dying and going to heaven, depending on what you like cake wise. I’m only feeling certain flavors these days. But hey, that’s one additional thing out of the way. All I have to do is frost the cake, though I do have to say that certain frostings are so disgusting, and filled with chemicals that terrify me, that I wish I’d taken a spare 30 seconds to read one can before agreeing to it. However, it’s not going into MY body, so it’s not on me. At least the normal one has ingredients in it that I can pronounce, as opposed to “Let me just Google this…” That is the quickest way to ruin dessert.

I think Aleve should be forced to change their advertising slogan from “It’s your life, pain shouldn’t get in the way. 2 pills will provide up to 12 hours of relief.” (Less than ten years ago, they claimed that 2-3 pills was 24 hours of pain relief compared to 8 Tylenol. Who the hell are they kidding? Neither of them work.) to “2 pills MIGHT give you an hour or so of peace.” There’s absolutely no drastic difference if I use the brand name or a generic version, there’s no such thing as true “relief”. I’m willing to do a LOT right now for true pain relief, but I have my limits. I already feel like someone beat me to death and no one has found my body yet, so if you don’t hear from me for a while, I must have posted from the spirit realm.

Dinner won’t be “early” tonight, hell, it might not even be served in a timely fashion, but I’ll do my best to get it all done. I have an assistant, we’ll see how long he lasts before I throw him out of the kitchen. As long as there’s no bloodshed (from my chopping knife), it’s all good.

No matter how you spend this holiday or where you are spending it, especially for our troops overseas who are away from their families, take a moment to appreciate the good things in your life and all the unhappy, bad shit that lead you to this place. Take stock of all that is important to you. Sometimes we find that the list is huge and other times we find that the list is smaller. My list is in the acknowledgements of Book One. I cannot say it’s short.

Don’t just be thankful today, be thankful every day.

A Short Week

2014-11-24 Miss Poison Musings, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Thanksgiving, Unfiltered, Writing Fibromyalgia, Goals, Moving Forward, Poison In Lethal Doses, Thanksgiving, Work, Writing

A Short Week

As we steadily approach Thanksgiving here in the States, it means a short work week for many, and for others, it means a miserable time of year where you have no choice, BUT to work because you work in a mall or an individual store that will be absolutely PACKED as of Thursday afternoon or early evening. Retail employees should be paid quadruple during this time of year, it makes me cringe knowing the conditions they are forced into and the schedules that take them away from their families.

I know some people think I am “so lucky” to work for myself. In some ways, this is true. I set my own hours and I choose the jobs I want, but it also means I have to work my tail off on every single job, or I am completely unable to pay my bills. Some years are definitely better than others. Here’s hoping the holiday season leaves me booked solid, and with some decent eBay sales to help keep me moving in the right direction.

I’m still not feeling great. Today was pretty awful, so I am glad I took the time to rest and focus on myself for a little while, without pressuring myself and allowing negative thoughts to enter my mind.

Sometimes I think if we keep moving forward, we move towards better things, better people, better situations, inevitably moving towards the finish line of each goal we set.

May every goal you set for yourself, however large or small, not be hell to attain.