Unholy Blight

Unholy Blight - Rank 1/1

A creeping swarm of unholy insects surrounds the caster for a 10 yard radius. All enemies caught in the swarm take 34 damage and are plagued with a disease that can stack up to 3 times. Persists for 1 sec per 10 runic power.

This is so great I can't even say.

Sadly, I just don't see that I'm going to be spending enough WoW-time to ever get there once it's released (books to write and all). Ah well. The possibility EXISTS people, it EXISTS.

(thanks, Tyim!)

One for the Road

Blarg

Blarg. Someday I will be an adult.

Look What I Got Today!

If you don't know what this is, click here.

Excess Energy

I've kicked back up my fitness routine the last couple of weeks, and every time I go to the gym I contemplate paying for a couple training sessions a month from the personal trainers there. Thing is, I can't afford another $100 a month in fitness costs (the gym is already $55 a month).

Today as I walked into the gym I started along the same track... and then realized I have two perfectly good personal trainers at work who have been trying to get more people to come to them for additional workout regimes and nutrition advice to step up our health and wellness program at work. And that doesn't cost money!

I've been wanting to kick up this routine for awhile, but I needed a stable homelife in order to do that. That is, when you're not concentrating on things like where your next insulin hit is coming from, you can afford to spent more time thinking about how to get wicked buff again.

I'll outline a set of goals tonight and setup a meeting with one of our trainers for later this week (work is going to be crazy tomorrow and Thursday, but Friday should have a bit of breathing room). Basically, I want to be buff again, and I want it to be *noticeable.* I'm surprisingly strong now, but that's not readily apparent because I'm probably about 30 lbs heavier than I need to be. I don't mind the extra weight - it's quite comfortable, but if I'm going for a wicked buff look, it's not doing me any favors.

As opposed to weight numbers, I'd prefer to concentrate on clothing sizes, since weight numbers really don't tell me anything. I'm looking to go from a comfortable 16 to a comfortable 12, which is what I was in Alaska when I was working out six days a week (which is what it's going to take - let's face it).

I honestly really welcome the up tempo. As noted, I have a ton of excess energy to burn off, and I think this is a great way to harness that (and being buffer and sleeker sure won't hurt for the book launch next year).

I tend to work better when I'm in better shape anyway, and that's never been so true as it's been since I got the sugar death, so hey.

Win all around.

No One Has Ever Hacked the Internet Before!

I would so watch this movie.

(thanks, Tyim)

Other Things that Annoy Me

People in general.

I'm glad I'm working out tonight.

Now go do a hundred pushups.

I'm starting to think...

... that I may actually be one of those people who only really falls hard for people who don't like them.

Some of this is hard conditioning from grade school, you know? I spent years... YEARS pining after people I knew were impossible crushes. You know, those kinds of guys who never looked twice at you in school. The ones who wanted to be "just friends." I nurtured these crushes for ages and ages. In fact, I can think of maybe three people who took up the entirety of my fantasy crush time from 3rd grade to 10th grade. That's just sad. But it did keep me out of trouble.

And then in high school I didn't have much experience with dating people I pined after or who really liked me because there was, you know, just the one guy for three years. Who, yes, I did get bored with quite often. But everytime I got bored there was some psycho thing going on and some near breakup, and then him in tears and crazy screaming, and so that drug out way too long, because I was like, "Well, look, nobody else likes me!" Then I finally dumped him for the final time and took six years off because if that's what a relationship was, I wanted to fucking part of it.

So when I started dating again three years ago, I generally, you know, dated people who really liked me.

And it was weird. Then I was crazy for a year of that. And crazy shit happened. And I was like, "Dating people who really like you is CRAZY!"

But really, the crazy was just me.

Then suddenly I grew up and got better and realized hey, love is not so scary! It just fucks you up and breaks your heart, but damn, the sex is great! I should just go for it!

And that, of course, freaks people out.

But now I find myself doing my usual routine again, pining after people who just aren't interested in the least and just aren't available. And I'm thinking, "What the hell is the point of this? I've had people want to die over me, and turned down all these marriage proposals, and here I am, pining after jerks and losers again," and then I'm like, "Well, yeah, that sure is a lot easier than having a real relationship, isn't it?" And I'm like, "Why, yes, yes it is!"

I'm in that crappy place right now that good girls get into, which is that I really want to get laid but really don't want to get into a relationship because I'm so fucking tired of bland, passionless first dates and I can't spend any money anyway, but I'm not the type who goes out to a bar looking for a one night stand because, let's be honest, I just can't get off having sex with some random stranger (gee, sucks to be me!). Why am I so boring??

So it's summertime, and I love my life.

It just sucks that I also have a sex drive.

Blast.

But seriously, what a waste of my time. I'm not in gradeschool anymore. I have better things to do with my fantasy time... like, you know, plotting out the first half of Babylon.

Which would actually be a whole hell of a lot more productive.

Books I Will Be Happy to Own

Yumyumyum. Should be out July 22nd.

After I burned myself out on slash-and-hack fantasy, I started looking forward to Abraham's books a whole lot more. They may not always be my cup of tea (more chicks with swords! [ok, really, everybody's books need more of those]) but they are always damn interesting.

I have yet to walk away from one of these books without a whole hell of a lot to think about.

What if

Chipotle or Peru?

When I finally made the decision to try and tackle my finances, after my roaring 20s of pure excess, the concept behind financial freedom sounded incredibly simplistic:

Just don't spend money.

That's it. I didn't have to *do* anything. I didn't have to go to the gym, or set up a writing schedule, or try and find a good kickboxing class. No, all I had to do was just stop spending money.

I live in a big apartment complex, which means we're always getting these random takeout menus tacked to our doors. I spent tonight perusing a very tasty-looking Chinese menu before throwing it away.

What I hate about control over finances is the same thing that I hate about control over my diet. It's that you have to make the right choice time after time after time, multiple times every day.

I went out to write at Caribou Coffee tonight, and had to force myself to bypass Chipotle on the way home. I had to remind myself of all the groceries I just bought today. As I passed The Cheesecake Factory I reminded myself that I'd already gotten a piece of their low carb cheesecake last week to bring home, and July's budget does not have wiggle room for *more* cheesecake. Then I had to come home and peruse the Chinese takeout menu, and then remind myself of how awful I feel after trying to inhale Papa John's pizza.

In fact, diet choices and financial choices are linked pretty heavily for me. If I'm not splurging on lunch or dinner out, then I'm getting a book, or a magazine, or out at a movie, or the comedy club, or trying to find clothes that don't make me look like Raggedy Anne.

I was raised by very impulsive parents; it's gotten them into a lot of trouble too. But it means that budgeting and delayed gratification are really foreign to me. When I come into cash, I feel I "deserve" to spend it. I need to "treat" myself. Well, you know, sure, one "treat" is great, but four or six weeks of treats and you've blown all the money and you're right back where you started with not much to show for it.

I sat down and put together my post-raise budget today, and in big, bold letters across the top it reads, "Budgetry, or how Kameron is going to get a house and go to Peru."

And that's the mantra I'm trying to bring to every one of my decisions now. I need something to keep me on track. I need constant motivation, because it's just not going to happen on its own. Like anything else, I have to retrain myself, and just like training yourself to workout regularly, there's this awful, painful adjustment period where you feel utterly deprived.

I hate it.

I want to go out, and have fun, and live, because dammit, life is fucking short.

But I'm really fucking tired of being in credit card debt. I'm done with it.

So which one wins out?

That's the battle I fight with every one of my stupid daily decisions. I now have $750 a month budgeted toward paying off that fucking credit card (starting in August). That's more than my current rent and utilities combined.

Seriously.

Imagine what I can do when I free that $750 back up? Think about it.

That's what I'm thinking about.

And it's what I'll be thinking about when I'm eating my hot dogs and leftovers from last night's BBQ tonight.

Terrified Waitresses & Chicks Who Kick Ass

"Come on. Do I look like the mother of the future? I mean, am I tough, organized? I CAN'T EVEN BALANCE MY CHECKBOOK."
- Sarah Conner, The Terminator

I have a love/hate relationship with the Sarah Conner of the first Terminator movie. Part of me wants her to be the same tough, kick ass heroine you see in the 2nd one, and so I'm always slightly annoyed when I start re-watching the first one again. Blah blah yeah, she's the holy womb of antioch, whatever. Seriously, is her only worth in the world as the womb that carried John Conner?

Then I sit down and really think about it, and I remember that even though she's the "mother of the future" she's no passive fucking vessel. What I love about the first movie is knowing who she becomes by the second one. Because how many of us are terrified waitresses who can't balance their checkbook and whose biggest heartbreak on a Friday night is getting blown off by some random date? Living that kind of life, how would you really react when you found out you were the one who taught the leader of the human resistance how to fight? That you taught him honor, how to make bombs, shoot straight, and bind a wound? Would you change your life, after that? Would you have the strength to do that? Or run away from it?

What I like seeing in this first movie is a timid nobody finding her strength, and knowing she's got the guts to get there.

The utter tragedy of T3 (I don't even consider it canon, especially after watching the new Sarah Conner Chronicles) was dumping Sarah Conner. These movies are far more about Sarah Conner than they are Arnold Swartzenegger (hence the success of the Chronicles).

It's a much gutsier, gritter version of Titanic (also a James Cameron movie, for those keeping track; he made tough female heroines awesome long before Joss came along). Wallflower with the heart of a fighter tells the world to go fuck itself and finds her voice and her strength and her self-esteem. She finds out what she's really made of.

It's a woman's coming of age story that doesn't involve marriage or being "saved" from her life by a man who does all the work for her followed by a pan-to-the-lamp happily ever after. It's a coming of age that takes work, courage, brute strength. Sure, this realization is kicked off by a hot guy who doesn't generally stick around for the end (just as in The Wanted and other boy coming of age stories have their bland boy's superpowers awakened by the arrival of a mysterious hot chick - who also doesn't generally stick around for the end). He holds out his hand, but she has to take it. And when he steps away, she needs to be able to stand on her own.

I'm always looking at why these particular movies work so well for me (Titanic, the Terminator movies, the first two Alien movies), and you know, it's because they're traditionally masculine coming of age stories. A formerly obscure nobody woman finds out she's the chosen one. She gets to battle evil in its many forms; she gets to slay the monsters. She picks herself up and builds her own life.

At the end of the day, she realizes that nobody is going to save her but herself.

And she becomes the hero of her own life.

That's good shit right there.

Quote of the Day

"All that we are is the result of what we have thought. The mind is everything. What we think we become."
- Buddha

The 4th

Went out to Steph and the Old Man's for a BBQ (always diabetic friendly over there - they take good care of me!) and chatted with them about life, the universe, and everything, including the future. There are future things I don't want to think about just yet, not until the CC debt is under 5k, but that's about the time I'll need to look into whether or not I want to settle here, buy into a house, the cheap but... illfitting? Ohio life.

I like that I can buy a house here. I love my job. But I don't know how long the job will last, and I don't know that I want to marry myself to Dayton, or to the limited jobs in Dayton. I want a better writing job. I want a different town.

I'm a bit of a bad fit here. I always feel like such a misfit. I mean, sure, I grew up a fat geek girl, but this is something different. I just don't feel like I fit out here. Too loud, too opinionated, too interested in books and big ideas, and with utterly and completely different values and expectations than the people around me. It's uncomfortable sometimes, to want something different in a place that is happy and content with a life that I spent most of my life trying like hell to avoid.

I will need to decide at some point, likely at the end of the year. Sink or swim. At some point you have to stop hedging your bets and build a future.

Drank some good whiskey and came home and sat out on my porch in shorts and a tank top, lit a candle, and watched some fireworks. I can hear a lot more out there than I can actually see, but man, it's nice.

Am I the only person to sit out on the porch and think, "Hey, about 10pm on the fourth of July would be a great time to shoot somebody!"

I'm a writer, yo. I have to think of these things.

Steph's coming over for pancakes and coffee tomorrow morning, so I'll play some WoW and call it a night. A good night. Nothing fancy, nothing big, certainly cheap and totally unstressful... just a good night.

Sometimes I can stop running and just be. For a night. Those are good times.

But I just get so damn restless.

Sometimes I think it would be great to have enough. Then I remember that when I have enough, I lose all of my motivation, and it's all take out pizza and sleeping all day.

Restless can be good. Restless keeps you moving.

But, for tonight: a good night.

Sometimes Good Things Happen

Got an unexpected call today from Insulet corporation, the makers of the Omnipod.

Insurance had rejected my claim for one last summer, deeming it "out of network" and requiring me to pay the first $4400 up front.

Well. That wasn't going to happen. I have enough medical bills, thanks.

Back in February, Insulet corporation asked me if they could reopen the claim, as they were partnering with another firm to help them get in-network status with a number of insurance agencies. I said sure, hey, why not.

Six or eight weeks ago, they called and said, hey, no dice, but they were going to try and get some kind of "exception" from the insurance company to get them in-network status because they're the only makers of this kind of pump.

Go for it, I said.

Today, I got the call saying my claim had been approved.

Insurance is paying the whole thing - digital remote/meter, testing strips, insulin pods and all.

100%

I don't have to pay a goddamn dime.

I admit, I got a little teary eyed. No more 5:30 am Lantus shot, no more shooting up at the table. I can program the whole thing from the remote, which doubles as my meter.

Should get it at work on Monday.

It's funny, you know. You get so used to bad things happening. Every phone call, every text message, every update, is a bad thing. You stop thinking that good things happen. But for the last year? Good things. Such incredibly good things.

And this is what I told myself through the worst of it, when I was running up credit card debt and running out of cashed-out 401(k) in Dayton, living on expired insulin and the good will of my friends. When I was ready to pack it in I just said, hey, you know, remember when you were 18 and living in Bellingham and thinking up ways to kill yourself to get out of a shitty life and shitty relationship? You thought that was the end. That was it. It was always going to be like that.

And when you dumped that loser and took back your life flew to Alaska, you had two of best years of your entire life. You wouldn't have gotten those two years if you gave up then.

So I didn't give up last year, when I hit rock bottom for the second time in my life. I didn't give up because this year was coming.

And I know there will be horrible times to come, dark times, but we live through those dark times for these ones, for the book deal and the great health insurance and the great job and fun coworkers and good friends and amazing apartment.

You keep going because everything changes, and if everything changes, you have a 50/50 chance that it's going to change for the better.

Things That Suck

A holiday weekend in which one has no money. I have $450 to make it to my next paycheck (and that's after just being paid *today*).

After paying off 3 outstanding medical bills and stuffing $700 toward the credit card, I'm out of cash again, and I have groceries and a Verizon bill to pay out of that $450 (and another $100 toward my last outstanding med bill). Did some freelance resume work, which will bring me my $30 in Chipotle money, but not until next week.

::sigh::

Long weekend of beer, video games, novel work, gymming, and peanut butter cookies ahead.

A year and a half of living like an adult to get me out of debt and in my own house.

Just a year and a half.

Man, this sucks.

Long push to get there.

The Personal Trainers, Oh How They Hate Me

Seriously, I haven't hurt this much since I was doing kickboxing and mixed martial arts classes at POW (man I miss that place)

Ask and ye shall receive.

Job Tips

For my buddies in the middle of job searches (including my Daddio!), here's some stuff to keep in mind:

"Here’s why you’ll need humility: If you are like most people, you will get the shit kicked out of you in the job search. Typically, the job search process is a six month-long, broken, politically-biased, ill-conceived, and poorly-executed racket. For most companies, the candidate’s dignity is an afterthought. Some of what will happen to you will not be fair. It will be expensive and frustrating. The injustice of it all will sting, and raging against the machine won’t help. You will need to forgive your transgressors just to maintain your sanity."

More here.

Morning Reminder

Milestones

It occurred to me today that I'd told my sister many years ago that I'd get a second piercing in my upper ear to match the one I got for Clarion when I sold my first book. I still like this idea for commemorating my first book.

I'm also thinking every writer needs a cool tattoo. And being 30 with a published book is as good an excuse as any.

I'll need to ask the Bad Boy at work if he knows of any good places around Dayton for such shenanigans. I have a feeling that in order to find any place great, I'd need to go to Columbus.

Tra-la

(also, it will not be a stupid ankle tattoo. Or a stupid lower back tattoo. It will not be of a heart, a butterfly, or a fucking flower. I mean, seriously, what's up with that?? If you're gonna do it, it better fucking mean something)