Sick of It

Now that Oscar season is over, and I’ve returned to my regular style of posting, I had big plans for this Friday blog post. I was going to do something eloquent, compelling, perhaps a story about life or loss, or a pearl of wisdom from my (admittedly shallow) pool of life experience…

But no, that will not happen today. And do you want to know why?

Because I am sick.

And not sick as in the slang term for “cool,” like people used to toss out in the 90’s. Sick as in ill, complete with head-pounding, sneezing, coughing, and a runny nose. Woke up with a sore throat on Tuesday, and hoped – no, prayed to all the deities I don’t believe in – that it was just an allergy-related side-effect due to the crazy weather that’s beleaguered my neck of the woods for the past couple of weeks. Seriously, not too long ago it was 70 degrees, and then two days later, we got four inches of snow, which promptly all melted the following day and caused minor flooding. So my allergies have been a bit of a tizzy.

Alas, it was not meant to be. Tuesday was mostly fine, to the point where I hoped I could just brush it off as a tickle, but Wednesday, in spite of my best efforts to fend it off, I was sniffling and sneezing and suffering from a massive headache by the end of my work shift. It was undeniable, at that point.

I’ve got a cold.

I suppose when some people come down with a cold, as oft happens at the junction between seasons or due to other outside factors, they use it as an excuse to curl up in bed and wallow in their warm blankets surrounded by piles of crinkled tissues, sipping soup and stewing in misery, binging a new or favorite series on Netflix.

Not I – I do not feel miserable when I get sick. No, I get pissed.

I think, in general, that I have a pretty strong immune system. I mean, I eat fruit every day – that’s supposed to help, right? And that’s no easy feat, since I’m allergic to pineapple and recently discovered a mild sensitivity to citrus. I work out at least 5 days a week, sometimes more, though my arms still have the muscle-strength of a pool noodle. I endeavor to get enough sleep, in spite of my cat’s best efforts to foil those efforts. I wash my hands at a near obsessive rate and avoid germs whenever possible, and keep away from folks I know have a contagious illness until they are cleared by a trained physician. So when my health fails, and I am struck down by the snot demons, my rage-meter hits a solid ten.

It’s worse when I can attribute the illness to a specific cause, because then, I have somewhere to direct my rage. One time, in college, one of my coworkers – who was sick – was using our communal computer to do homework. I used it shortly after, assuming that most sick people have the common decency to disinfect the surfaces/items they use when they know someone else will also be using it, but APPARENTLY, SOME PEOPLE ARE IRREDEEMABLE HEATHENS WITH HORRENDOUS MANNERS WHO ENJOY SPREADING THE PLAGUE WITHOUT ANY THOUGHT OF THE REPERCUSSIONS.

But I digress… this time, there is no certain target for the brunt of my fury. I’m pretty sure it was either the wonky weather or the fact that at least half of my coworkers have been sick over the last month, not to mention the fact that I work with the public and so many people don’t cover their mouths when they cough/sneeze, so, though I valiantly staved colds off for the majority of winter, my formidable immune system has at last failed me.

So I’ve been enraged for about two days now. I’ve tried not to let it hinder me – I went to the gym today, did some grocery shopping, and managed some chores – but I have indulged a bit, and have spent the past few hours watching reruns of 8 Out of 10 Cats Does Countdown in bed. But I also have a method for combating illness, which has worked quite well for me in the past. And in order to fight the germs, certain supplies are needed…

1.) Water. Hydration is important at all times, but especially when you can only breathe out of your mouth.

2.) Orange Juice. Or other fruit juice, probably. But the good stuff, not stuff like Sunny D. If you have issues with citric acid, there are low acid brands, and make sure to use a straw. The straw is vital.

3.) Comfy clothes. I’m uncomfortably warm at the moment, but sweating it out helps. Fleece-lined leggings and bulky sweatshirts are my go-to.

4.) Tissues. And splurge on the ones with aloe. Your nose will thank you.

5.) Meds. Depends on what works for you/symptoms and MAKE SURE TO READ THE DIRECTIONS. I’m a quil person, myself. Both Day and Ny.

6.) Heating pad. For aches and pains.

7.) Soup. I get won-ton soup for the Chinese food joint at my local grocery store, and I swear it has medicinal properties. It’s become a go-to for other members of my family, now, that’s how well it works.

8.) Sleep. As much as possible.

9.) Hand sanitizer/disinfectant wipes. I try and wipe down/clean surfaces and items that I use when I am ill and know someone else will be touching it. Because that is what DECENT PEOPLE DO. THEY DON’T TOUCH THINGS WITH THEIR SICK HANDS AND ALLOW THEIR GERMS TO SPREAD WITHOUT ATTEMPTED PREVENTION.

10.) Ice Cream. This one is optional, but after spending an entire day taking care of myself and being steamed over the state of my health, some Tonight Dough is necessary. It does help soothe a sore throat, as well.

Following this method, I have at times been able to conquer a cold before it truly has time to manifest in full glory. A few years back, I realized a cold was brewing, so I stocked up on meds, OJ, and soup, partook in all three in acceptable doses throughout the day, and then swaddled myself in several blankets and warm clothes and slept for 12 hours. Pretty sure I sweated the cold out over the course of the night, because I felt fine the next day. I’ve never been able to replicate such speedy results, but following these guidelines, I am usually able to defeat illnesses within a couple of days, so my life can then resume as normal.

Thankfully today (It’s Thursday March 8th as I write this) I didn’t have to work, so I have consumed 2 quarts of magical won-ton soup, two large glasses of OJ, some meds, a whole ton of water, and I’m wrapped up in my GoT hoodie and comfy leggings and relaxing. So let’s hope this cold is quashed by tomorrow, or when I venture out into the world, some folks are bound to face my wrath…

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The Dolphin Statue

Every day, on my way to work, I pass a house with a dolphin statue featured proudly in the front yard.

It’s a curious thing. I’m pretty sure it’s made of wood. It’s cute, and the dolphin looks friendly.

But most of the time, when I glance out the window at it as I drive past, I can’t help but wonder, “….Why?”

I mean, it’s not a conventional choice for a lawn decoration. It’s no garden gnome, or one of those goose statues, or one of those fake deer used for archery practice that I constantly think are real. But how did the person who lives in that house come to own such a curious thing?

Is the person a hero to porpoises, and he was gifted the statue for some commendable deed?

Did the person receive it as an unusual present, and, unsure of where to put it, just stuck it in the front yard for passersby to admire?

Is the owner a carpenter of some kind, and the dolphin is a work they are especially proud of, so they put it on display?

Or… does the person just really like dolphins?

I may never have the answers to these questions, and that’s okay. Though, really, I am very curious to know the origins of the dolphin statue.

But even if I’ll never know, it gives me reason to wonder. And when I find things to wonder about – to theorize endlessly on the countless possibilities – I know that it’s still possible to find inspiration, even in such little things, and great stories can come from simple curiosities.

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If you’re in need of a new read, check out my YA novel, I’m With You! The ebook is only $1.99 or (£1.55) and paperback is $9.99 (£7.99) on Amazon Amazon UK.  Paperback is also $9.99 on BN.com.

 

What’s in a Name?

Nicknames are a curious thing. Monikers earned due to a specific event, a casual simplification of a name, or a specific trait. Though I’m mostly referred to by my actual given name, I’ve had a few nicknames over the years, and while some have lingered, others have faded away – for the better, in some cases.

Briefly, in my later years of elementary school, I was called “Alf.” It’s a shortening of my first name and the first initial of my last name. It’s also the name of a furry extraterrestrial sitcom character from the 80’s, to whom I like to think I bear no resemblance. This one didn’t last very long, though – only a year or so, if that.

After an accident during a track meet when I was fifteen, I was plagued by a recurring injury that resulted in the disastrous end to my athletic career, a few stints with crutches, and reconstructive knee surgery. Due to my less than stellar walking ability for those months, a handful of friends dubbed me “Gimpy.” Other variations of this name were used, but “Gimpy” was the most frequent, and that stuck from sophomore year of high school through senior year, long after my limping stopped. Fortunately, I have since shed it, and no one has referred to me this way . Looking back, though the nickname was imposed upon me with a measure of friendly affection, it’s actually pretty offensive, so I’m glad I don’t look over my shoulder at a shout of “Gimpy!” anymore.

In college, a friend gave me the nickname “Allenson.” The impetus of this one is foggy, but I think it had something to do with Vikings? I’m not entirely sure of the circumstances, but I do remember it was hilarious.

I actually used to detest being called “Allie.” I used to think it was too “girly” sounding for me since I was a huge tomboy growing up, so whenever folks called me “Allie” in an effort to be nice or spark a rapport, they were met with my wrath. It’s a variant of my actual name, but none of my family ever called me Allie in my early years. However, when I got to kindergarten there was another little girl with the same first name, and she ended up with the shortened moniker while I got to keep the long version, a distinction which lasted through the entirety of high school. Now, I do not mind being called “Allie” as an adult – I wouldn’t have chosen it as my pseudonym, otherwise. Most people in my life don’t call me Allie anyway, except for the few folks who only know me for my writing – it’s actually made it somewhat easier to separate my personal/business life. As a writer, I also give a lot of my characters nicknames – either due to their actions, or traits, or because I can’t be bothered to type their full name out all the time.

People closest to me (family, close friends) commonly refer to me as “Al.” It’s the kind of nickname that sounds wrong when it comes from the lips of an acquaintance, or from someone I’m not very familiar with. If I go out and meet someone who proceeds to call me “Al” without prompting, or without knowing much about it, it grates on me – in a “You have not earned the right to refer to me as such” type of way. I’m not sure why that is, or why I’m so particular about it – perhaps because “Al” is the most personal nickname I’ve ever had. It’s an “If you don’t know me, don’t call me that” nickname.

Nicknames can be adored, abhorred, earned, given, or inherent – and some carry a unique origin story with them. What’s your unique nickname story?

 

Writing Rewind #13: Wings of Fate Chapter 8 Part 2

*I will only be making Friday posts for the month of December. Regular Monday and Friday posting will resume in January.*

WOW, it’s been a while since my last post. Not because I’ve been avoiding it this time, but because I’ve been swamped with work and other things, but now I’m ready to re-embark on the S.S. Cringe-fest and wrap up chapter 8 of this travesty.

Last time on the UNMEI, Matthias was being a robot to everyone, per usual, though slightly more jerk-ish than usual. And we’re going to find out why! What is it about the “hated day” that makes Matthias behave in such a way? Well, strap yourselves in… it’s going to be quite a ride, with a lamentable romance on the horizon.

KEY/GUIDE:
Strikethrough = cut out
Highlight = rephrase/reword/awk
Blue highlight = minor additions
DANGER RED HIGHLIGHT= massive cringe
Green highlight – switch/move

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This first selection is a nice warm up. Minna and Tango chatting about the General and his prickly behavior, and there’s a mysterious gift involved… though with more detail and description than is needed. So how are we going to fix that? *unscrews highlighter cap*

chapter 8 p2p1CHANGES

Trim and chop, trim a chop… it’s becoming quite a theme. Altogether, though, this passage is not totally horrendous. No, no… that is yet to come, don’t fret.

chapter 8 p2p1FIXED

The superfluous bits have been shaved away, and the meat of the story remains. The dialogue tends to get repetitive because I like to make absolutely sure my message gets across, but I’ve come to realize the reader can put the pieces together without me beating them over the head with it.

Next up, their conversation strays to a different officer… one who is not so cold.

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And there we have it. Tango, for as of yet unknown reasons, has feelings for Matthias. And though this piece is riddled with grammatical errors, this is a glaring issue with the plot/content. I was 1000000% on-board for this pairing when I wrote this story a decade ago, but now, I see it for what it is, which will become clear in upcoming chapters.

But first, we have to fix some of the grammar and syntax.

chapter 8 p2p2changes

The eye references continue. And they shall be eliminated.

chapter 8 p2p2fixed

Oh, what messy romantic entanglements we will have to navigate in upcoming chapters? The seeds have been planted, but will they sprout into weeds, or flowers? *clears throat* ANYWAY,  with some of the fluff cut out, this portion flows better and the conversation gets wrapped up sooner. So, let’s move on…

Cut to, UNMEI exterior deck, with our favorite frigid general and perky brunette major, as Matthias begins to reflect on his life and his relationships…

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*eye twitch* THIS NEEDS TO BE SLIMMED DOWN, PRONTO. Now we know a bit of Matthias’s history with his father and his turmoil about Tango, but it’s still too much. WAY too much.

chapter 8 p2p3changes

Whoo, boy. This may even take a bit more chopping once the sentences are restructured a bit. I can probably cut this portion in half and not lose anything of real substance.

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AHHHHHHHHHHHHH, so much better. BUT WAIT, THERE’S MORE!

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Of course, it’s his birthday. Don’t think I hinted at it nearly enough, to be honest.

Content-wise… I actually don’t think this part is that bad. I mean, the conflict between them in this chapter isn’t the main issue I have with their relationship. No, that will become clearer later on, don’t you worry. But this passage still suffers from the usual issues, which need to be addressed.

chapter 8 p2p4changes

Lots to trim, lots to axe, lots to rework. AND THAT EYE REFERENCE MUST BURN, AND DIE.

chapter 8 p2p4fixed

There; a bit better, and not so bogged down with description and clunky phrases.

Now… this was going to be the last segment. But I feel like I need to address something else, because reading it back, ten years after I wrote it, I’ve realized that I had some… erroneous view points on romance. So, here is the gift that Tango got for Matthias…

chapter 8 p5p1

WHAT THE ACTUAL F*CK. She made him a scrapbook about his life. THAT IS SO STALKERY!!! They aren’t even dating, and he’s almost twice her age! She needs to CHILL. That is not romance, it’s creepy. End of story.

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The entire segment needs to go. It makes Tango look obsessed more than anything else, and that’s not okay, and it is not a positive attribute.

Her feelings for Matthias aren’t invalid or anything, but the way she expressed them is way too intense for someone she isn’t even dating, and that kind of behavior should not be projected in a positive light. I have actually experienced something similar in my life (as in, someone gave me an overly-intimate gift) and it was not okay to the point where it profoundly altered the way I behave around men in both a friendly and potentially-interested dynamic. So, maybe that experience is coloring my perception of Tango’s behavior, but I truly believe it is unhealthy and I 10000% don’t want to convey the message that acting like this is okay, so I’m changing it now.

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So, she got him a sweater instead. So. Much. Better. It has Tango’s humor, still seems heartfelt and personal without being too intense, and it’s definitely not stalkery. Sorry that I soapboxed for a minute there, but I think it’s important to show how my current mindset and the experiences I have had since I was fifteen have changed the way that I approach my writing, both past and present.

NEXT TIME, we have a power outage… which can only mean one thing! DRAMA!!! Not sure when it will go up, but in the next post, we will explore Chapter 9: The Blackout. Until then!

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If you’re in need of a new read, or want to get someone a book for the holidays, check out my YA novel, I’m With You! The ebook is only $1.99 or (£1.55) and paperback is $9.99 (£7.99) on Amazon Amazon UK.  Paperback is also $9.99 on BN.com.