Let me tell you a story…

…about a crappy fast food joint. This establishment sits at the junction of I-10 and Cortaro Road in Tucson, Arizona.

Two orders placed: one for a fish sandwich with tomato and onion added, and one for an A1 mozzarella bacon cheeseburger.

Orders received, the patrons sat down to eat their meal.

First to dig in was the one who ordered the fish. One single bite revealed that the onion and tomato were not there. Was the order entered incorrectly? Checking the receipt, she found that the extra items had indeed been entered and charged.

She took her sandwich (minus one bite) to the cashier and, receipt in hand, pointed out the discrepancy. The cashier took the erroneous sandwich to a cook and brought it back to the patron.

The sandwich was returned rather quickly, and the patron suspected that this was not freshly-cooked. Sure enough, when she sat back down at the table and opened the wrapper the “new” sandwich with the tomato and onion added was inside–complete with the missing bite from where she had started to eat.

The first patron was hungry, though, so she ate this dubious dish.

At this point, the second patron had finished his fries and was opening his own wrapper. Lo and behold, the A1 mozzarella bacon cheeseburger had neither mozzarella nor bacon.

Being hungry himself, the second patron ate the disappointing burger, though he took the time to fill out the online survey as directed on the receipt, making sure to be as thorough as possible in his report.

Once the two were done eating, the second patron walked back to the register to ask for the manager on duty.

To say that the manager’s reaction was indifferent would be an understatement. The manager simply did not care that their staff had risked food contamination by taking a partially-eaten sandwich back into the kitchen.

The moral of this story?

Don’t go to the Burger King on I-10 and Cortaro Road in Tucson, Arizona. They’re fucking disgusting assholes, and they don’t give a shit about getting orders correct.

The end.

Venturing out

Next Tuesday is a big day for me.

It’s my first time going to a bar by myself since before I got married.

It’s for the journalism gig. I’m reviewing a band for the website, but my husband doesn’t have a press pass with me that day.

And I’ll be in downtown Phoenix by myself. Me, who gets lost there during Comicon when all I have to do is follow the geeks in cosplay. Me, who got lost in downtown Montreal after getting dosed (long story) with what I’ve been told was probably LSD.

So this should be interesting to say the least.

I can do it though. I’m a big girl. I just have to keep calm and not freak out.

Yeah, that’ll happen.

Memories both light and dark

So Facebook has this thing called “On this Day” where you can see what you posted on the same date in previous years. Today I saw two powerful memories, one bittersweet and one just plain heartbreaking.

Today is the five-year anniversary of the day I left HealthSouth. I worked there for nine years, and they were good to me. I learned a tremendous amount there and made great friends (and I still miss you guys).

Today is also, sadly, the one-year anniversary of the death of our cat, Luna, who my husband had long before he met me. Though we now have Rory, I still feel sad at times knowing that Luna is gone.

It just goes to show that you never know what new beginning will come from any ending. Yes, my job and life in Huntsville ended, but my life in Sierra Vista began. Luna may be gone, but Rory is a little fluffball of love and energy.

One door closes & another opens, or some such cliché.

Open for commissions

I know I’ve been talking nonstop about my writing lately, but don’t forget I still do art commissions! Here are some examples of what I can do 🙂


We all sometimes lose sight of our true voice
We all sometimes lose sight of our true voice

I have a reason for the sudden call for commissions: my husband’s birthday is in a couple of months, and I’d like to get him something nice with my own funds. So if you’d like something original, send me a message or leave a comment 🙂

Yes, Mom, I *do* have a soul

So I made a breakthrough today in my writing. I wrote a scene so heartbreaking that it brought me to tears.

Let me explain the title of today’s post. My mom has always joked that because I don’t cry at movies, I don’t have a soul. Well, Mom, I wrote something fictional where I knew the outcome and I just about cried at that. The only reason I think I didn’t cry is because I was trying to figure out the wording of something, which was distracting.

There ya have it, folks. I have a soul. It’s in there somewhere.

Of course, the reason I came to tears was because I broke the heart of one of my characters, so maybe I’m not quite as soulful as I think I am. 😉  Don’t get me wrong, I’m not a full-on George R R Martin here. The story just needed more character interactions and reactions, and this was a powerful reaction to something I had already written.

I’m loving watching things unfold as I add more to this story. Some of it is already great, and some of it will still need a lot more work, but that’s how drafting works; you have to keep at it until it shines. And sometimes even then you have to polish it even more.

Back on track, or stalled again?

Got a whole new chapter written today, but I think I’m stuck again. Can’t decide how to meld the chapter I added into the one that was already next. I realize now that there was too much of a gap between chapters, so it’s good that I added one, but now I’ve created a new dilemma of what to add next. I still haven’t bridged enough of the gap.

I also have to go back and put more depth into the character interactions in some places. Maybe add to the description of some scenes. Paint a better picture. Put a fucking table & some chairs in there somewhere.

Still lots and lots of work to do. Far from publish-ready. Far from submission-ready. But I’m not letting myself get discouraged. I will get this done. It’s only a matter of time.

Failed experiment?

Recently I posted about my attempt at writing erotica. The characters were taking it there, but I have decided that I’m going to make them behave and force the characters back into the original story I wanted to write.

Not that I think my sex scenes were bad, but it was getting boring to write. I was getting tired of it. It was getting me into a rut. (Pun not intended.) So I’m going back to the urban fantasy/supernatural story I had intended on writing. Cutting all the sexy fun times I had written. It’s almost back to square one, but that’s not as bad as it sounds. I hadn’t gotten very far.

I also need to get back to revising my first book. I need to get my word count boosted. It’s getting there, but quite slowly.

And finally, I need to cut my damn fingernails. They’re scraping on the keys & it’s driving me nuts.

Making lemonade out of lemons

Ok, so my interview/concert last night didn’t go so well. I got pissed, I fumed, I’m over it.

I also had an idea while I was in Phoenix. Now I’ve got another interview in the works that’s all my own design, something that might not have come to mind if I hadn’t been in the area.

There are also bonuses to this idea. I get to help my geek community, a community that helped me to largely overcome my social anxiety. I get to represent the state that has become my home. And I get to see an idea of mine take form.

So the concert didn’t go the way I had hoped. So what? Life moves on. Take what you can from it and use it.

Fully loaded

I am a glutton for punishment.

Because I’ve been wanting to do more work with TV shows for Talk Nerdy With Us, I asked to cover a few different shows once they come off summer hiatus.

By “a few,” I mean five or six.

What can I say? I’m hooked. Not that I don’t enjoy the music work, but I wanted to branch out more from just the one show that I currently cover.

Oh, and I’m going to be doing a book review soon, too. It’s the most recent of a series that I love.

And then there’s the movie I’m reviewing tomorrow. And the band I’m interviewing live before the concert I’m reviewing/photographing. And another concert in a week and a half.

Gotta love it when you love what you do.

Exploring sensuality

No, I’m not talking about that! Get your mind out of the gutter!

I’m talking about my #writing. The new story I’ve started, which I hope I can turn into a #novel–the one I talked about the characters pulling me into a different sub-genre than I intended–is rapidly turning into an #erotica story. Oops.

Not that there’s anything inherently wrong with writing erotica. Loads of people write it, and it can be very lucrative if you are good enough at it. It’s just…different. Not what I normally think of myself as writing. True, there are sexually explicit scenes in my first book (yet to be published, still very much a work in progress), but it’s far from an “erotica” novel because there are only a few sex scenes.

This is new territory for me, but it’s kind of exciting (not that kind of exciting) to see where it takes me. Who knows? Maybe I’ll find a hidden talent somewhere in there. Maybe this is just supposed to be the genre I’m meant to work in. Stranger things have happened.