Self-Centered Planet

2015-06-30 Miss Poison Honesty, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Writing Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Thoughts, Writing

On your own self-centered planet… No time for anyone.

Believing your own words, as if they’re the complete truth.

Impressing upon others, that they’re always wrong…

Invalidating feelings that are actually dead on.

I don’t have time for nonsense. I don’t have time for bullshit.

I will not have my thoughts and feelings reduced, not by you, not by anyone.

Communication is the problem. One person cannot put forth all the effort when the other isn’t receptive.

Some people always feel the need to get the last word in, but I’m a writer. They should know I’ll finish what they think they started.

No, I don’t have time for bullshit.

Angels Can Suddenly Appear…

Image 2015-06-30 Miss Poison Angels, Images/Photos/Quotes, Pieces Of Me Angels, Cats, Images/Photos/Quotes, Kittens, Unconditional Love

I was blessed with amazing angelic beings. VF & MMB- Mommy loves you. Extra love to the angels of Bastet (FB & TB) who watch over us all.

I am a firm believer that the right animals and people find us at precisely the right times.

Silver Linings

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At this particular point in time, I am having difficulties seeing the silver linings. Life has its ups and downs. Sometimes it’s good and sometimes it sucks. We’ve all experienced this. I’m not quite certain what to do when it’s predominantly sucky.

I work hard, but there is always a problem that arises and it’s always something I have to fix. It makes almost all aspects of life, outside of a handful of things, completely miserable, moving straight into unbearable. When does it end? 😦

At a severe low point, I called a suicide prevention hotline. I feel absolutely no shame in admitting that. I do, however, feel incredible outrage by how I was treated by this hotline that will willingly accept my donations, and yours, but refused to so much as help me when I wasn’t very far away from my personal ledge.

The person who took my call was already on the phone with someone “in a more severe crisis”. I have no idea how she knew this other person was in a more severe situation than I was because the first thing she did was put me on hold for about 30 minutes. Let me reiterate that she never even bothered to ask me if I was all right and in a safe place before she did that. She finally comes back on the line and says that the other call is more important and I should try calling back later. She didn’t ask where my head space was, NOTHING. She spewed the call back later crap and hung up. Even if you’re short-handed, even if you’re a volunteer, that isn’t the way to treat anyone who is calling a suicide prevention line. Clearly, they’re not calling for shits and giggles, it takes courage to make that call. I hung up with my jaw wide open, feeling even more betrayed by the world. It was a gut punch. “Wow! Even the suicide prevention hotline can’t prioritize me for half a second before hanging up!” If I wanted to be treated that way, I have family for that.

Earlier this year a now former friend asked me via text message if I “needed professional help”. Instead of understanding that I was in a bad place and needed support, she ended up blowing me off and later “broke up” with me via e-mail. I thought we’d be friends a very long time, so I was understandably blown away by the dramatic behavior and inability to show compassion to another human-being. I will never name names, but I am also at that point where forgiveness is not an option. You only get one chance with me. (Other things did occur towards the end, but I will never discuss any of that because it’s private. If the other person chooses to say something, they would be wrong.)

Telling me you’re worried about me via text message doesn’t convey care or concern. It’s just words. Picking up the fucking phone and saying “I know you’re not okay. I’m here for you.” is a better way to let anyone know that you’re truly there for them.

One of the biggest issues with cell phones and tablets is that no one talks to each other or communicates properly. The other day a woman took a call in front of me from her mother. Her mother wanted to argue and she said “Lets discuss this in person. There is no need to have this conversation over the phone. I will see you in a few hours.” She repeated the same statement several times because apparently she was dealing with a stubborn parent. When she hung up she said she HATED how people misconstrue things via text, e-mail, and sometimes even over the phone. She was totally on my level, saying how she’d rather be face-to-face with certain people because that way, there’s no misunderstanding whatsoever. It was incredibly refreshing.

I cannot speak for everyone, but I can speak for myself. If I sense that someone is going through a rough time, whether they voice it or not, they don’t have to ask me to be a good friend or family member, because I do not lack common sense. I am not the world’s most compassionate soul (I openly admit that.), and I will never win awards for my niceness (The niceness gene died at age 12.), but I am emotionally present. That’s more than I can say for a great many people in my life and those I’ve chosen to get rid of.

If you love your friends, you fight for them. Their well-being is important to you and you don’t need to be insulting in order to get your point across. The same is true for family. I come from a very large extended family, but at the end of the day, they are almost exclusively people I happen to be related to (Who are banned from future book signings and appearances. LOL.). They’re not my everyday “I’ve got your back”, “Don’t worry about it.”, “No problem, I’ll help you.” family. There’s an immense difference. I have friends and family I’d do anything for, but with the rest… I’d break out the marshmallows if they were on fire.

Ultimately, not everyone you know is a good person down to roots of their soul. If you find those that are good, don’t let them go over petty idiocy. Learn how to say “I’m sorry” when you’re wrong or when you’ve hurt someone. Learn how to admit you don’t know it all. Be yourself, be real, GROW.

Tomorrow is not guaranteed for any of us. So, I employ a “live and let live” policy. If you’re good to me, I will appreciate that and I will say so. If you’re a piece of shit to me, eventually I will make sure you know what I think of you. Or I won’t be so bothered as to waste the oxygen, that all depends on my mood.

If you’re a part of my life, I am grateful to have you in it. I keep my circle of friends close because of the value I place upon the element of friendship. I don’t trust anyone who doesn’t have true friends, and I really don’t trust women who don’t have at least 1-3 close female friends. It’s a red flag. Kind of like a man at a bar that still has a tan line where his wedding band should be, but tells you he’s single or how horrible his “soon-to-be” ex-wife is. Unless you see divorce papers, he’s full of crap and is a married man who hasn’t stopped dating.

I’m eternally appreciative that I am one of those rare people who truly doesn’t care if people like me or not. I spend no time at all wondering what others think of me as a person. Those that take the time to get to know me on a deeper level are the ones that benefit from my fierce loyalty and “ride or die” friendship. Those that burn me clearly don’t know that, like the Phoenix, I will always rise again.

Moody Musings

2015-06-262015-06-29 Miss Poison Chronic Pain, Depression, Happiness, Honesty, Life, Musings, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Social Media, Things That Enrage Me, Thought-Provoking, Thoughts, Writing Anger, Cat/Kitten, Depression, Exhaustion, Fibromyalgia Pain, Honesty, Life, Moods, Musings, Pain, Partial Paralysis, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Police, Stress, Writing

I’m in an ugly mood. I think I went to bed that way, to some extent, which only partially explains my nasty mood this morning. I (almost) never lock my cats out of my bedroom, but when they started their petition to shove me out of bed around 5:00, I silently got up, put grain free food in their bowls, and as they both moved to their respective bowls, I shut my door. About an hour and a half later the little one started screeching like the world was ending. I let her back in to abate the crying and then ended up locking her out because she was trying to claw her way through me. When I haven’t slept well, there is no amount of annoying behavior that will push me out of bed. I also don’t want to yell at them because they don’t understand it and it’s traumatic for them. I simply cannot bend, touch my toes, or turn my head/neck at the moment. It’s upsetting to be in this much pain and not be able to take care of basic things, including myself.

Injustice and abuse of power infuriate me. Alas, I don’t look good in orange, so going after a power-hungry cop, fresh out of the academy, who thinks his dick is as tall as he is, is probably NOT a good idea. With all the police issues in this country, I figure the asshole will eventually say the wrong thing to the wrong person. I have to believe there’s some kind of karmic justice at play here, and that I have to just take care of me and mine. However, factoring in that I cannot physically move and that I’m in excruciating pain, I feel like there’s some kind of evil joke at play here.

Several weeks ago, a church was firebombed in my area by someone who got early release after kidnapping two minors back in 2008. Tax dollars hard at work. <rolls eyes> Emergency responders were already in the area and able to handle the situation quickly, but $50,000 worth of damage was still done.

At the moment, there is a huge carnival going on at a different church. It usually lasts for about a week or two. Ever since it started, there have been break-ins ranging from small to large, even if people are already home and asleep. Whoever is doing it doesn’t give a shit if there are cars in the driveway, they’re still going to risk their lives for “stuff”. This is occurring not even two minutes from my neighborhood. It’s within walking distance. A woman walked into her house yesterday to find a man going through her things. She, in her infinite stupidity, asked who he was and what he was doing there! He hit her in the face and took off, but now it’s clear that it isn’t just one person. The various local police departments decided to let people know about all of this via social media. Every single person that responded said “I have dogs and guns, go for it.” I do not currently possess the strength to utilize a shotgun properly, so, God forbid, my only option would be something smaller. I highly recommend no one sneak up on me for a while.

Are naturally perky people drinking too much coffee, on a drug I’m not aware of, or are they born that chipper? Are they simply “bright side of everything” types? I truly don’t know because I cannot relate.

95% of the time I wake up like a sleeping dragon. Unless I am able to go back to sleep or take a nap, I’m pretty unpleasant in the mornings. For quite some time I was up at 4:00 a.m. every single day. I was in bed early each night, it worked out well for me. But now I cannot seem to fall asleep and stay asleep. Being woken every morning at 5:00 a.m. is tiresome, to say the least. You’d think they were being starved, but the opposite is true. They like routine, but they were also thundering up and down the stairs after midnight. Where do they get the energy?!

Studies claim that people who wear lots of grey and blue are depressed, and people who wear bold colors are happy. Don’t we all get depressed at times? Who the hell lives the absolute perfect, trouble-free life? Even Fortune 500 CEO’s have problems, but everything is covered up beneath the shiny veneer. FYI: I wear a lot of grey and blue because they’re two of my favorite colors. I hate red, but that’s not exactly a well-kept secret.

In simple terms, I feel moody as hell today. I’m pretty sure it’s a 50/50 toss-up between life and…life. I am trying to pull myself together to run errands and not commit any murders today. As an introverted extrovert, this means headphones are going to be my best friend today.

I hope everyone has a calm, pleasant weekend to look forward to. Keep cool, don’t get too much sun, and remember to reapply sunscreen every 80 minutes, even if it’s cloudy out and you haven’t been sweating. Sun damage and sunburn(s) are things no one wants to deal with.

Emerging From The Cave

2015-06-24 Miss Poison Life, Musings, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Work, Writing Chronic Pain, Clients, Editing, Exhaustion, Fibromyalgia, Graphic Design, Pain, Sleep, Work, Writing

I woke up from a dream this morning that could have doubled as the weirdest movie EVER. Or a book. In fact, I’ll be writing it down later since my dreams revert back to a clearer picture within a certain amount of time. Rule #1- Never share your writing ideas.

I’m exceptionally exhausted and in an extraordinary amount of pain. I was up late working for a client last night. I then referred her to a graphic designer, that way her product will look professional. If anyone is in need of a professional graphic designer for any number of things (banners, book covers, etc.), please let me know and I will put you in contact with her. She’s worked for Harper’s Bazaar and Disney and has been in business for 25 years. She knows her shit and can work with ANY budget. Plus, if I am going to pass business on to anyone, it’s going to be someone who I know needs the work.

All I really want is a nap. Unfortunately, I know full well that a “nap” will lead to me screwing up my sleep patterns. The storms that passed through my area last night knocked power out for a lot of people. As hideous as the sky looked, making me believe it would be an intense summer storm, there was merely some “scary to watch” lightning, a sprinkle of rain, and later on, a truly stunning sunset. If there was anything else, I missed it in between making dinner, decompressing for two hours, and then going back to work before bed (NOT a wise decision! The last thought I had was “Did she spell chili wrong on the product label!”). I’m running on fumes today, looking forward to the moment when it’s acceptable for me to simply fall into my bed.

My pain levels are off-the-charts insane. I am certain there’s a rod in my spine, that my right hip is disintegrating, and that my attitude matches how I feel. Being in pain 24/7, with no reprieve, is a challenge unto itself. If anyone would like to take it off my hands for a few weeks, I’d be happy to help you understand how real Fibromyalgia is. I am so sick of people saying that sufferers are “lazy” or “Doctors say it’s a fake disease.” I’ve got two words for that. Yes, those are the words.

I should be placed inside an insulated cave with running water, electricity, and WiFi. We’ll slap a label on me that says “Not fit for human consumption”, and I don’t mean that in a Hannibal-esque way at all.

Father’s Day

2015-06-21 Miss Poison Father's Day, Honesty, Pieces Of Me, Writing Candles, Father's Day, Honesty, Loss, Memories, Pain, Pieces Of Me, Suffering, Writing

You will find that I am almost completely silent on Mother’s Day and Father’s Day. I lost both of my parents within five months of each other between 2007 and 2008, so each holiday is difficult for me. My parents were young, making it all the more devastating.

I have a living, constant reminder of my father, but I don’t have one of my mother. People often assume I am exactly the same person as each of my parents and they’re wrong. I am not as ferocious as my father, though I have my moments. I am not as kind, caring, or anywhere near as compassionate as my mother. I simply lack the genetic make-up for those traits. I like to think I am the correct blend of their best qualities, but I’m highly aware that I inherited a fiery temper.

People think that when you lose your parents, you simply keep on living, that you don’t look back on their memory. They would be wrong, at least where I am concerned. There is no way for me to live without honoring the memory of the people I have loved and lost. To do less would be false, and I’m many things, but I’m not false.

On days like these, I can either ignore the issue completely or I suffer. Of course, I’ve been doing a lot of suffering lately, so I can only hope this coming week will be a better one.

To all the fathers, step-fathers, uncles, Grandfathers, & single parents who step up and handle the tough stuff, may today be a reminder of the appreciation bestowed upon you. To all the new Dad’s, welcome to parenting.

Let Me Know When It’s My Turn

2015-06-202015-06-20 Miss Poison Honesty, Musings, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Stress, Writing Honesty, Impatience, Musings, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Stress, Writing

It’s mildly interesting to me that the majority of people don’t care how much they bitch to others. They can complain about the same thing every single day for 8-12 hours, but God forbid you want to interject with a thought. Suddenly you’re “the enemy” who has interrupted the flow of kvetching. (Please refer to Yiddish phrases. Contact me ONLY if you do not understand its true meaning.)

In reality, you’re simply tired of hearing the whining. You’ve contemplated 60 different ways to kill a person using office supplies and/or electronic devices at your disposal. I always think it’s exceptionally safe that people cannot see me on the phone when I am listening to them drone on for hours about nonsensical shit that means nothing to me. I’m not completely heartless (I had it checked), but if the last 20 conversations centered around one topic and one topic alone, I have probably thought about how bad Q-tip damage to the ear really is. I’m a great listener, but I am not known for my patience or tolerance for bullshit. Simply put, I don’t have the head for it.

On occasion, I would like for someone to listen to me and truly hear what I have to say. So by all means, let me know when it’s my turn! In the meantime, I need a nap. 😦

Professional Headaches

2015-06-172015-06-17 Miss Poison Being Real, Editing, Editors, Fibromyalgia, Honesty, Musings, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Professional, Self-Care, Work, Writing Annoyance, Cancer, Editing, Fibromyalgia Pain, Frustration, Headaches, Health, Honesty, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Professionalism, Self-Care, Sitting, Work, Writers, Writing

I am not known for my patience. If you’re not a child or a “little” (“Hello littles!” That’s how I talk to animals.), my tolerance for you is probably slim to none. God help you if slim leaves town.

People’s expectations are unreasonable, especially when I am given work that requires hours and hours of face time. There are only so many hours in a day. You can only write “rewrite” and “revise” so many times in a day. You can only make so many corrections that are crucial to the development of a story, and point out major errors before you slowly start to lose your mind. And when you do, if you’re like me, you take a few days to breathe. Unless I’m on a tight deadline, I am going to include some self-care in the mix, or I’ll kill the clients and no one wants that…or do they?

You ignore the “Is it done yet?” questions that have about as much impact as on you as “Are we there yet?” You try not to say what you really think and feel. You wait a few days and then you respond as professionally as humanly possible, but how many times do you really need to say “Please, let me work. This is way more than what I signed on for.” to the same person? How many times do you have to repeat yourself about how they should have read their work in advance of sending it to you? Yet, perhaps it’s nerves, impatience, what have you, but it is fucking annoying to constantly be asked the same damn questions. I’m exceedingly mature, so when people far older than I are immature, it’s an immense turn off, be it personally or professionally.

If you give me something and ask me to read it, be prepared for an honest answer when you inevitably ask “Is it good?” I used to ask people if they wanted my opinion or the truth, and to be careful with their choice. I no longer ask because whether it’s one or the other in terms of delivery, it is still the unadulterated truth. Dunkin Donuts and I have not teamed up to sugar coat your day. Mmm, donuts…

Editors still have lives. I work hard, but when I need a break it is usually due to my health or personal responsibilities. I cannot be glued to my laptop 24/7 looking at the same material every single moment. One, it’s not healthy and two, it’s important to get up and move when you work at a computer all day. Sitting is the new cancer, at least according to the medical professionals I know. I don’t know about all of you, but it makes me uncomfortable hearing the two words used together, so it’s not uncommon for me to walk away and do a load of laundry, or cook, watch the birds and bunnies in the backyard for a while, or simply shut the computer down for a few hours and focus on other things. I’m human. Moreover, I’m a human-being who suffers from Fibromyalgia. The days I can sit at all are miraculous. My pain gets worse each day, so I’m not receptive to whining from others.

I can either do something right the first time or not do it at all. If you consistently annoy me, you can pretty much guarantee I will be unavailable for future projects. I’ve already done enough work for 20 paychecks, not one. It’s hard not to be frustrated knowing that.

For future reference, too many people think they’re writers. Puking ideas onto paper does not make you a writer. Cohesive storytelling is a gift. Having honest people in your life who encourage the good and let you know when something is awful is also important.

There are days I wish I was an unprofessional hack. 😦

For those of you that messaged me about cutting off so much of my hair: I am almost certain today that it’s too short and I hate it, but I am trying to give myself time to get used to it. In turn, I am off to play with the Topstyler and see if that makes a difference. If it doesn’t, I am changing the color to blue until it grows back. Right now I am pretty sure I look like my brother with hair. 😦

One…

Image 2015-06-17 Miss Poison Honesty, Images/Photos/Quotes, Inspiration, Pieces Of Me Images/Photos/Quotes, Inspiration

To Cut Or Not To Cut

2015-06-16 Miss Poison Editing, Life, Musings, Pieces Of Me, Poison In Lethal Doses, Work, Writing Editing, Life, Musings, Poison In Lethal Doses, Work, Writing

In editing, I spend a lot of time “cutting out the crap”. Endless amounts of time are spent, weeding through words, cutting what does not mesh well, making everything cohesive in the end. Flow is important when it pertains to writing. In fact, it is crucial. A successful manuscript isn’t always about the first draft, but the finished product.

As an experienced editor, I know when to cut something in my own work. If that means deleting an entire chapter, five words, or only keeping key elements of the chapter and re-writing, then I do that. That which is best for the overall body of work is what I am going to do, even if it’s slightly upsetting/heartbreaking in the moment. I also keep a few files for paragraphs and/or chapters/characters that are well-written, but might work differently with something else or fit better in another spot. Sometimes, you don’t have to cut something entirely, and other times, you do. It’s trial and error.

I feel content with the amount of work I’ve done over the last few weeks. I still have the killer manuscript. My goal is to focus on the manuscript as much as humanly possible until it is completed. Should additional smaller jobs pop up, I will work on them because they’re immediate and don’t require as much face time as the manuscript needs, but ultimately I want to get this big one done.

Because I’ve worked my ass off, I am excited to say I cut something else entirely today. Rather than trekking into the city (New York people, I will never refer to any other place as “the city”.) to see my usual stylist, I went to my local stylist and chopped off more than half of my hair as a “reward” for working so hard and not having the time to do “me things” as often as I’d like. I wanted to do it last Friday, but she was off and I wasn’t able to make it there on Sunday which is the start of her work week. So, I went this afternoon. My hair was at my waist, it now sits above my shoulders with a mess of really cool layers in it. It’s going to take some time to get used to it, but it feels amazing. I cannot remember the last time my hair was so short that I couldn’t put it in a pony-tail, braid, a clip, or twist it into something cute. I suspect I’ll be using the TopStyler on a regular basis now that it’s so short. Beachy waves will look great with this cut. Bring on the salt spray!