Christmas Songs: Sometimes They’re Just the Worst.

Christmas Songs: Sometimes They’re Just the Worst.

I used to work with my boss, instead of for her. During those times, we would complain about how early Christmas music began, “Right after Thanksgiving!” we would say disdainfully, “It’s still fall for gods sake!”

Oh how things change; now that she is a business owner, her habits reflect those of a vast majority of retailers, both large and small. The day after Thanksgiving I walked to work in a world of scarlet and gold. Only to find a shop full of red, white, and green.

Not terrible, as a lot of people want to get their shopping out of the way. What broke my spirit was the music. We complained, our customers complained, but our bosses wishes stood above all else, and so it began.

Pandora is a mixed blessing- good for introducing you to a myriad of artists and styles you might not normally be exposed to. But it has a darker side, a side of playing bands you’ve down-voted over and over (I’m sorry, The Chieftains, I just cannot learn to like you), and repeating the same song every two or three tracks. Up-vote one tune and hear it three times an hour until you skip it and make the program understand that maybe you don’t want to hear it for awhile. But skip too often and your right to that is revoked, even with a paying account, because it’s algorithms can recognize you skipping a track, but not that it just played four songs from 2000’s “The Grinch” back to back,  bookended by the eleven minute long Dr. Seuss Story Version.

You see my problem(s)?

So… all in the name of venting and the good fun that entails, here’s some holiday songs that make me pray for an excuse to go into our stores nightmare inducing basement or out into the cold streets of downtown.

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The Geekery: Report #01

The Geekery: Report #01

I’ve been struggling these last few months with everything deciding on a balance between keeping a blog that showcases my work and one that appeals to me on a more… nerdy level. It can’t all be book reviews and poetry, vignettes and photography- because that’s not true to who I am. I considered starting a secondary blog for it, but I don’t update this one enough as is, so forget that. Then I asked myself why I was putting these limitations on myself; this is my blog, after all, I can make of it what I want.

You see, here’s the thing, I hate love to write, feel naked without my camera, and obviously I read, but I’m a third generation gamer, whose grandmother got an Atari soon after they were released. She taught me how to hold a joystick, how to play Pong, how to avoid that damn shark in Fishing Derby. My mother gave me the gift of Super Mario Bros. and Duck Hunt, my father Dragon Warrior and Shadowgate, and both of them played Legend of Zelda. There were copies of Silver Surfer and Thomas Covenant laying around the house, and anime was just starting to be aired on American television…

OK, OK, so what am I trying to get at here? I’m a nerd, all those things that are shoved under the umbrella of geekery I am into. And it’s no fun pretending I’m not. I have role-played a High Elf (A Chaotic Good Warlock Moon Elf whose patron was Lurue, in case you were wondering) in Dungeons and Dragons, I have gone to anime conventions, I have written fan fiction for obscure pairings like Gippal/Baralai (Final Fantasy X2) and Nick/Greg (CSI), I have sorted myself in a Hogwarts House (Ravenclaw) and discovered my Patronus (Newfoundland Dog). I imprinted on Matt Smith as The Doctor, and haven’t been able to love anyone more then him except David Tenant but only when he has Martha. I always have a towel, I watched The Return of the Jedi on VHS until the tape stopped working. I reread the Lord of the Rings every year and have watched the original Peter Jackson trilogy more times then I can count. Every Thursday you’ll find me watching Critical Role (and Tuesday Talks Machina), I am a nerd, and I love it…

Below the cut is talk of Thor: Ragnarok, World of Warcraft, Death Stranding, Jurrasic Park, Oceans 8, and Dark Phoenix. Warnings include: Mild Spoilers, a love of Jeff Goldblum, bitterness over the Horde, and the occasional curse word.

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Writing is Like Baking (Full of Pain)

Writing is Like Baking (Full of Pain)

Just a little essay I whipped up while trying to resist the urge to light everything on fire. I am almost thirty and I think I’m failing at adulthood. Also I am afraid- of everything. I get more time to write and suddenly the “publish” button becomes a creature of nightmares. Here is an analogy about writing, looked at through the lens of baking- two things I usually love but on occasion make me want to die. Or at least get melodramatic. Or get tequila even though I don’t drink, but sometimes I feel like iiiiit. More on that later.

Writing your first novel is sort of like baking a cake from scratch.

And you’ve never even set foot in the kitchen. You’ve seen it from a distance, possible touched things within, but the inner workings are as complicated as your friends home- brewed D&D/Dune crossover campaign that’s lasted five years.

So, you start with the idea- you know you want cake, but you aren’t even one hundred percent sure what sort of cake you want. This leads to research, books read, blogs scrutinized, Chuck Windig cornered, kidnapped, questioned, then Neuralized by Agent J and released, and three weeks of making a Pinterest board; slowly, you narrow it down. You eliminate the sort of cakes you don’t like, which, if you’re like me, is not many, and you are left a with a bunch you do. I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with that funfetti box mix and frosting combo though- that stuff’s legit.  Read more