December 2018

I apologize for not updating this blog as much as I should. I update my Instagram daily (mostly cooking and cats), so you can follow me over there if you like.

It’s the second day of Hanukkah (third night)! I’ve been balancing my real life with my writing the next three episodes of Femitokon. I finished the episodes (my NaNoWriMo challenge), and now I’m editing the first portion that will end up being Episode 12. I can’t believe I’m this far in, and I’m proud of my output. No one’s reading, but oddly I’m okay with that.


I’ll be getting paid for an October production project at the end of the month, and it should be enough to wipe out the last of the 12k debt the spouse, and I incurred furnishing this house, replacing the broken AC, and paying off the remainder of the youngster’s college classes. We’re going to start 2019 off the way we began 2016–practically debt free. 🙂

My spouse continues to see a neurologist about the nerve damage in his spine. His walking hasn’t improved, and my heart breaks for him. Despite working in software and drafting, he’s been active all his life (hiking, tennis, hunting) and now he can do nothing that requires walking. His drop-foot is visible now when he’s in public, and sometimes people stare; the fact that he’s aware of it bothers me more than it does him–but then he was always mentally more together than me. 🙂

The youngest has five more classes to complete their degree–they lack any real motivation to get out there and score a job, so it’s going to be interesting to see how long it takes them to find their place in the world. The oldest remains in Texas, and though we’ve been gently suggesting he seek a more stable long-term career option, he plans to stay with Mayfield in their DQ location for another year. His girlfriend finally got a full-time job at an assisted care facility and is making the same wage rate – this takes the pressure off him and enables her to gain some confidence in their adulting endeavors.

Van Helsing - Season 2

Van Helsing is back on SyFy! I like this show even though some friends have dismissed it. Z Nation is dead to me; it’s too far gone to keep my interest. I’ve completely lost touch with Walking Dead mainly because we made the switch to Hulu Live TV. This past run of Channel Zero was immensely cool (Pretzel Jack!) and I’m caught up on Man in the High Castle, Harlots, American Horror Story, and Castle Rock.

I think I’ll end this post now and will try to blog more in 2019?

Father’s Day

No one prepares you for the day your kids grow up and leave the house. You raise them to be self-sufficient, and you’re there to counsel them on making decisions both bad and good – but getting used to them not being in the house will forever be strange.

I was told Millennial’s stay home until they’re thirty-something, but this typically comes from people who fail to see anyone born between 1990 and 2010 as a human being worth their respect and consideration. As a Gen-Xer born in ’71, I dealt with parents that just weren’t there; physically, emotionally, or even mentally. Babies were something that happened to them as opposed to something they planned for and this often came through in the way of emotional indifference. Here’s a tasty-cake sorry I’m late. Sit down in front of the TV I’ll be back later. I know it’s the weekend, but I worked all week, and I need some ME time, you’re staying at grand-moms.

After returning from my deployment to Kuwait I chose to settle down with someone I felt I could die with; I did put that much thought into it because I had experienced a purple-heart situation and so that sort of thing was on my mind. I didn’t anticipate getting married or having children at age 25. Shit happens, as they say, and so I bore my son Ian in ’95 and the spouse, and I exchanged vows in ’96. A Jewish Slav, my attitude toward pregnancy before marriage was this: If we could survive each other’s shit after one-year raising a child, then we’re legally meant to be. After marriage, I bore the Moog, my youngest, in ’98. I resolved to always be there for them no matter how my day went or what my work demanded of me—I was lucky to be able to telecommute.

3104071317_727478c3f0_mMy son was diagnosed borderline autistic, and this was back in the early 2000’s so I refused to medicate him because I felt there was nothing we couldn’t handle or work through. Sadly, we live in Austin Texas at the time instead of the Philly area where we had our kids. My refusal to medicate him and have him put in a special needs class that was wholly inefficient (because Texas) meant that the school worked against me (and him) at every turn. There were issues, some bad enough to make me want to pull him out and home school him—but my spouse refused to work with me on this and so Ian stayed.

Ian endured a lot of shit, but he came out a good person. College wasn’t for him, and this killed me. I wanted to send him to a technical school because the spouse and I were returning to PA and he didn’t want to leave his girlfriend and friends behind. He had a full-time job, benefits, and an apartment of his own and a car (we bought it for him before we left). I miss him so much. I’m not prone to expressing my emotions but typing this does bring tears to my eyes. He tried to score a new apartment recently, but they told him he makes too much money to qualify for the low-rent option, and so he opted to stay in the slum he resides in for another year. My first reaction was to offer him some assistance to get him into a better place, and then I realized—with his girlfriend not working, this would put more pressure on him and then it hit me that he’s still in food service. WTF? I want to bring him here and put him in school, but he won’t do it—he’s got his life, and he’s adamant to make it on his own.

I cannot force another adult to do my bidding, and so I sit on the sidelines and hate his life even if he thinks things are going well. In the words of the great Maggie the Cat: You can be young without money baby, but you can’t be old without it.

2950864924_6b9126b8c0_mMy youngest is in college, and we’re currently fronting the cost of their life. The road in Texas wasn’t easy for my youngest because they’re trans and the conservative nature of the school made education as difficult for them as it had been for my oldest. College has opened a new world but the ambition to get out there in it is absent in this one, and for the life of me I cannot work myself up to alter this.

My spouse is beside himself this Father’s Day because he desperately wants to invest in bringing the oldest north and putting him a different path to sustainability, but the boy assures him that he’s okay and that he’s not ready to change his life that drastically just yet. Meanwhile, the spouse is ready to fire the youngest out the window on the weekends they’re home because he feels their squandering their talent by refusing to aspire to anything that doesn’t involve the least maximum effort.

That’s my house during Father’s Day.

Complicated but not really…

Not Scary

This is the first year I didn’t decorate for Halloween, nor am I handing out candy. My deadline is looming and I cannot afford to spend any free time on anything else–the spouse did talk me into attending a Halloween party this weekend. It was easier to just say yes.

I’m going as the Masque of the Red Death– and my mask will be a raven’s beak with feathers. It’s last year’s unused costume that lets me celebrate my love for Poe, and mourn the Ravens performance this year that began with that shitshow in London.