roxy: (jared speak no evil)
There will be a pause in my 30 days of me-me. I'm frantically trying to get my house in livable condition for my guest--a dear friend of mine, someone I've known for years and years and years. I'm excited. Also, stressed, anxious--just this side of panicky. Of course she knows me, knows what I'm like, but tell that to the part of my brain that likes to unhinge at the least bit of change. Also, there is a trip involved. Guuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuyyyyyyyyys, you know I hate traveling. I hate vacations and staying strange places and agonizing over whether I have enough Imodium with me and will it work and god forbid, what happens if it doesn't and damn it, I won't be able to eat anything and, and, and....*hewp* I can go a very long time without eating stuff, and I'm really good at faking like I am eating, but it's exhausting!! Ach! I will concentrate on the good stuff, and worry about the other shit when I'm there. Good thing is, Fam is my backbone. When stuff starts getting rough, I can count on them to try and tone it down, thank god.

And it's not all bad. My house is clean! Like, no dust and random shit laying here and there. I'm so pleased. And when I retire, it can be like this allllllllll the time.

HAHAHAHAAAAAA. Whew! *wipes eyes*

Anyhoo, when I'm back here, there will be pics of celeb crushes and me, whoooooo!! And more fascinating business about, yes, me. If you're still reading this, thank you for having that freak-out with me. ;D
roxy: (WTF)
Today was crazy-ass crazy day at the old Red Bulls-eye Satan fitting room. I had a complaint lodged against me, for no reason that I can see. I had so many people look at me like I'd arbitrarily decided to make their day more difficult. Children took time today to practice being little bitches on a safe adult, adults practiced being assholes on someone they mistakenly think is required to take their bullshit. Okay, so I can't lean close and say, "You are a fucking pain in my ass and I'm thinking a bigot." No, I have to let my eyes say that. A half-smile and a slight roll of the eyeballs says plenty. Or coming to a complete stop, smiling wide and saying,"Suuuuure." to their stupid little requests.

I'm astounded all over again at how many people have claustrophobia. Here's a tip, asshole--if you tell me in a conversational tone of voice that you are suffering from this problem, if you try to, y'know, not *shout* it at me, or stamp your little feet, or give me a look full of challenge, I will show you to a large fitting room without question. If you ae obviously struggling--broken bones, back pain, pregnant, you are automatically getting the big room. But here's what you can't have, no matter how much you glare at me in hatred--you cannot go into the wheelchair accessible room because your ass doesn't need it.

th__000godzilla by gifmaster500

I said NO


WTFuck? Why do people want that damn room? What the hell? The door opens outwards, that's *it*. That's the only difference between the family fitting rooms and the wheelchair accessible ones--that and maybe a foot more of space. *smh*

I'm leaving them in June. I intend to dedicate the rest of my life to painting tiny watercolors of kittens and flowers. Maybe I'll join one of those senior art classes, make little ceramic penis vases, maybe little ring dishes shaped like vaginas. I'm looking forward to it.
roxy: (sun)
My child is moving...again. From the apartment that she just moved into. Yes, I know. She's moving into a different place, because of extreme phobias. No one understands, except folks who also have phobias that can turn one's life inside out. We talked about it and I supported her move, but asked for her promise to seek counseling of some kind because this is just too much. So this move, she's totally on her own. She's a grown, mature woman, and this is her life, she has to live it the way she wants. But that doesn't mean we have to live it with her. The move is totally, completely on her. How she accomplishes it is in her court. Mom and Dad are tapped out, financially and mentally.

Staycation is almost over--I have one more day. Except for the mind-boggling news my kid dropped in my lap, it's been so good that I'm kind of considering taking early retirement and just becoming a hermit. Nothing would make me happier than to shut my door on the world outside and just...breathe. I have two more months to think about it. Hmmmm...*ponders* I wonder if I can cut my hours at Red Bulls-eye Satan without getting fired and then live off the riches of my retirement. And my husband, poor man. Hell, he's younger than me, he can deal.

This post brought to you by 'has it been that long since I posted?'
roxy: (jared bunny by taliosi_x)
Using this icon because I forgot to use them this Easter


Holy fuck, I am so blocked. Nothing is coming through at ALL!! No, no--stuff gets written in my head but it won't come out. I sit at the keyboard, stare at the screen and it just seems like too much trouble to type. I'm really sorry about it too, because I *love* the Jared I'm trying to write, and I love their families....I'm not too crazy about Jensen though. Just like PE, I'm really very happy with the characters and where I want to go, and the ending is just so right but I don't feel like typing it. This has been going on for, what, two months?

Maybe I'm done???????

I don't like that idea, but it happens to people. I remember in SV, when I was sure I'd never write again, and then wrote this long-ass story that I really loved...ach, who knows? I give myself until the end of April and if nothing works loose by then, I should probably drop out of the BB. *sigh* If I really think I can't get any of my other WIPs done, I promise I'll tell everyone how they end because I do know how they end. I think the writer owes folks following a story that much, right? Why leave folks guessing if you know how it's meant to end?

Excuse me, I need to ooze out of my chair and flop all over the living room and whine really, really loud before I crawl up the stairs to bed. *SIGH*

God, everyone should have my problems, right?

*sigh*

Feb. 26th, 2016 03:43 pm
roxy: (angel bound)
I'm working on Small, Dark Place, and I have to reread the other stories and I don't want to. There are so many other stories I'm following and I want to read them, but I can't because then I feel like I should be working on my own stories. So, you can imagine the massive amount of house cleaning I've been doing instead. ;)

Tonight! Tonight I will finish all of them!



What? It *could* happen.
roxy: (spn showtime!)
On a totally different note, ever since I want to NJ con this year, Mr R has been all completely different about fandom, us in specific. Now that's he's finally seen the faces and the crowds, he seems to understand.

Since he met the roommates, however briefly, and they weren't carrying axes or t-shirts reading "PORN! ASK ME HOW!" and both BG and he could see that they weren't planning on rendering me for my usable bits to sell on the black market, he (and she, possibly) understand that it's all about folks just like me. He's been all bright and inquisitive when I mention fandom things--and so quick to point out stuff he finds. Before, he'd do it like a dutiful husband, now he does it like he's bringing me chocolate. I like it a lot. Also, there's a lot less flinching like a frightened stallion when he reads stuff over my shoulder now, but that might just be age and one's reflexes wearing down....

We had some major changes going on at home and that's part of why I've been quiet lately. That, and I guess this is just the time of year that I wind down a bit and retreat into my den, moaning and whining to myself and vowing to eat worms. I'm feeling better, though. Not so much with the moaning now. Whining still going on. Thank goodness for Show. :)
roxy: (dean with gun)
I got lost last night and missed Show. I didn't work on my BB, I didn't do anything. I slept a lot. It was pretty good sleep. and I had a good reason for it.

Folks, let me share with you my traumatic work day--which led to hugs and pats and cuddling for mental support which morphed into 'race you up the stairs'--oh, let me not lie, power-walk--I'm not racing anyone up any stairs, out of shape as I am....

So, my day at work? Just, omg, filled with people who had a tenuous grasp on hygiene, and where the appropriate places to urinate were--hint, not the fitting rooms. I had to boil my hands and apply outrageous amounts of sanitizer before I was able to overcome my attack of the vapours.

I was cleaning out a fitting room and cursing the lazy-ass lazy bitch who left hangers and stuff all over the floor instead of bringing them out when I grabbed one that was wet. And the liquid on the white hanger was yellow. And the only reason I didn't scream the house down was that my throat locked up.

My bare hands, my friends. My bare hands on this...thing. Stuff.

Beloveds, Yer Mother might have some slight issues with strangers. And touch. Probably not more so than the average person but maybe scooching over into OHMYGAWD territory, just a bit. So that was rather paralyzingly horrifying. I just went blank for a second--like, my fingers would not open to release this thing.

I'm just a simple, country fitting room attendant, I don't expect to have to deal with anything like this, lord have mercy. All I want to do is make sure no one's stealing stuff, that's all.

I should start wearing gloves all the time...or maybe change the fitting room spiel. "May I count your items, thank you, please return what you don't care for to the desk--oh and by the way, please don't pee in the room..."
roxy: (calvin oh no!)
written a post, mostly caps, railing over the unfairness of life and fandom, basically flouncing about in your lj, deleted it, gone to bed and then woke up at ass o'clock, with "wait, wait, fuck, omg--did I delete that sucker, please yes?" shrieking in your head?

Yes, you have.

Good morning! I'm off for the day! :D
roxy: (spn boys wrestle!)
This week is almost over and I have not been as productive as I hoped I would be. So, I did this, I printed out the bit I have so far and I'm editing it on paper because I can usually see it better that way. I have stacks of scribbled over bits of different stories! I don't know why it's easier this way but it is. I tend to see mistakes better, get the flow better. It does get expensive after a while, especially when it's a long story. Sometimes, I end up with big fat folders full of the same five pages, scribbled and high-lighted all over. :D

Also, as time goes by, I am more and more unhappy with my laptop. The keyboard is just godawful, hinky and touchy and just stupid. It's terrific for reading and watching shit on because it's huge, but for writing--gaaah! It is not for me. Of course, it's taken me a few years to admit out loud how much I hate this thing...*sigh* I feel bad about that because it wasn't cheap, and I was raised by folks who survived the Great Depression on one side and WWII on the other...you used stuff up until there was nothing but fuzz left and gosh, rarely replaced an item just because you didn't like it.Especially if it cost an arm and a leg! Which I have been told that I didn't spend much at all for the laptop so shut up and replace it but GUYS. It's not broken, I just don't like it.

I'm posting this, because I'd like to break my streak of writing long drawn out posts full of personal feels and meandering, blabbly thoughts about my Show and my life and then deleting them. You don't even know what I've saved you from, because I love you. And yes, because I don't want to come off as a ranting, weird, sometimes grossly over-sharing person...but I suspect that ship has sailed....

Me-Me

Nov. 30th, 2014 06:22 pm
roxy: (batman fabulous!)
pronounced me- me. 'Cause this is all about me. Everyone's doing that December meme. I failed hugely at that last year, so this year if you want to ask me something, go ahead and I will overshare be happy to answer you. No limit because I find everything about me fascinating. Wait, are we still not saying stuff like that in public? Are we all still faking modesty? Whatevs.

Halfway through Retail Hell, now. countdown to Christmas, and I feel like I've been kicked in the non-existant nads. Fucking hate this time of year. Everyone is looking for that one, special, magic gift that will finally make everyone love them, and they're willing to gut any retail worker who stands in the way of that. God knows I want to help you find the thing that will finally make your folks value you, but if we ain't got it, disparaging my legitimacy is not going to make it suddenly appear.

God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change ('cause this is my paycheck)
The patience to put up with folks who swear I'm an obstructive bitch
And the wisdom to know they will jail my ass if I leap over the counter with my stapler in hand....
Always remember, Spring will return, and no one will want to kill you for the last Easter egg.
roxy: (boys and baby)
I'm just looking over my tags, and all the things I planned to do with this LJ and gosh, I don't think I've ever completed a darn thing. *sad* I really had the best intentions, you guys. I really wanted to make this an informative and entertaining LJ. *more sad* Instead, we have unfinished projects, volleyballing ideas...I admit publicly that I am a flake of the worst order.

here, have a musical rendition of my feelings, boulevard of broken dreams.... )


*siiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiigh*

Maybe I should post a list of all my WIP projects.

NAH! That'll just make me feel like crap. Looks like you guys are stuck with me rambling about RL and all the thinly veiled references to my sex life...geriatric porn, I hear it's big in Japan.

*gasses up Big Bertha*

All right, Mr. DeMille, we're ready for our close-up....
roxy: (evol)
1)Post fic

2)work on weirdo BB that is giving me fits

3) do the voice meme thing but I'm shy about exposing my nasaly, foul-mouthed, South Jersey-accent self. All, "Yo, z'up, izme, Raxy."

4) ponder why my job is trying to kill me

5) whine because my doc says it's time for a colonoscopy. And tiny possibility I have a stomach ulcer, maybe acid reflux. Whaaaa? I have no ulcer! I have no reflux! My doctor's lunchin', tchah!

6) have a muffin with my coffee. I wonder if I can use the power of my mind to make Mr. R bring me a muffin home. I can't find my phone. I should get up and make coffee anyway. I should get my ass in gear and write. I will...in a minute.

I have whole days like this. Weeks

I had a great bath though, with bubbles and plastic wrapped kindle. And I washed up with this amazing Bath & Body Works bodywash called Sensual Amber. I love it--it smells like Dean. No, really, it does!

7) procrastinate the hell out of this thing
roxy: (dean excuse me)
You know how you come across a recipe for something you've eaten ever since you were a wee thing? Some dish that when you eat it nowadays, you're suddenly thrown way back when? So you're reading this--this *recipe* and you're all "WHA? THE ACTUAL HELL? What the *hell* is that a recipe for because it sure is not the dish we ate!" You know what I really hate? When folks do stuff like, I don't know--throw black-eye peas in a silver dish. Or healthy up those old time recipes and swear up and down it will taste just as good--even better. No hell no. Where's the fat? Where's the damn salt? Where's the damn TASTE????

I need to keep away from that damn Pinterst. But the SpN pins call me like sirens.

I'm really crabby right now because all we have is granola bars in the house. Some of us seem to think that's an actual exchange for cookies. But some of us are cute but insane. I really want a red velvet muffin right now.

See? This is me kind of writing.
roxy: (dean excuse me)
I'm sorry, but this using a / to indicate a gen relationship really irritates the hell out of me. I'm a SLASH reader and a SLASH writer and more specifically a WINCEST reader and writer. That's my main interest, and when I click on a story that has Sam/Dean in the headline, I expect some form of slash. I don't necessarily need out and out sex--though that's more than nice, but it pisses me off when it turns out to be a completely, *totally* gen story, or worse, a het story. Nothing wrong with either, just not when I'm expecting guy love. When I want to read gen, I read gen. Much, much more rarely, I'll read het. I just like to know what it is I'm reading.

I know that these folks aren't posting like that intending to misrepresent, I think that they just don't get that there's a difference. We've talked about this a few times here. Is it not the same other fandom places? Is it only LJ anymore that adheres to the slash meaning a M/M relationship?

*throws hat down and flings hands up*


samdean roxy rec by bt_kady


Had to get that off my chest. Okay, I bitched, so let me rec a fucking fabulous GEN story. See? I read them sometimes. Are you wondering where Sam's at, what's going on under that massive forehead? This fic explains it all. It's chilling, heartbreaking, *scary* as fuck and just plain amazing. I really liked it.

Stapled Shut, Inside an Outside World by[livejournal.com profile] caranfindel
roxy: (dean wave)
I'm not going anywhere I'm thrilled with Show and happy with the cool stuff they're showing us. You guys are great, fantastic and make me so happy--*but* it is recharge the batteries time! Usually when I fold my tents and sneak off into the night, I'm back in like--what? Two days? Two hours? Look at you, you fucking cute little things. I CAN'T QUIT YOU!! But I'm gonna try, just for a few days.

If you need me, drop me a holla. If you've decided that this is the year you're finally going to get me that Mercedes--what what! If you hit the lottery while I'm gone, dude, we really need to talk.

Be lurking around here like a creepy grandma seeing you real soon!

♥ ♥ ♥

Not happy.

Apr. 15th, 2013 11:42 pm
roxy: (peanuts rain go away)
I'm so down about my BB that it's screwing up everything. I just can't feel crappy that I'm having trouble with it, no, I've got to translate that into "I'm a crappy person." I'm *not* sending this hot mess to anyone until I get some sense that it's salvageable. Though if any of you could give me an ending, that'd be great--hah.

I'm giving myself a couple of days to pull this shit together and if I don't feel like I'm going somewhere by Friday, I guess I'll drop out. I'm not a fast writer anymore--if I can't get an ending roughed out by the end of the week, I'll never have anything by May 1st. I was rolling along pretty well throughout the weekend, about 3000 words--not great, but not bad--and then it fell apart when I realized I had no idea where it was headed. Which isn't terminal if you're posting a WIP but not if you're trying to make a deadline. :(

I'm just bitching here because I need to get this out, and I can't at home. You know how they are about my hobby. Not entirely non-supportive, but they're much happier if I never mention it at all. So, I just kind of wander around all bitey-lip and swearing I'm fine because it always feels silly to get so emotional about something that's only important to me and a few folks in a faraway land who might possibly be unicorns, for all I know. *sigh* Thanks for letting me babble. I'm going to print out all the fucking ugly pages and look over them at work tomorrow. And if anyone asks me what I'm doing I'm going to straight up tell them, "Wondering how I can get these brothers to fuck each other...any ideas?"

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