Category: Megalomania

Charity Money

~ Kiki Writes ~ Leave a comment

thumbs upIf you’ve been present in my social media world in the past week or so, then you know that I’ve been doing some linking to a few different things that are raising money for a couple of different causes (a teacher friend has a campaign to raise money for some hands-on math supplies for her high-poverty students at DonorsChoose.Org; The Davy Jones Equine Memorial Fund is having an auction; Davy’s Angels are selling t-shirts with the proceeds also benefiting DJEMF). In addition to trying to raise some awareness for these activities, I’ve also donated to my friend’s campaign, bought a t-shirt, and have been getting outbid left, right, and center on the nifty memorabilia at the auction.

I like to put my money where my mouth is when I can. And I try to work it so I always have money for my mouth (thought I will have no trouble running my mouth for various charities and organizations when I can’t afford to donate; that is the very least I can do).

So, I feel I should make a full-disclosure about my charity money, the money I earmark to donate to various causes, charities, organizations, and whatnot because that money might involve you, too.

My charity money is the money I make garage sale-ing my life.

That’s right. If you buy any of my crap on eBay (stuffed animals will be going up in the next month or so, BTW) or any of the stuff I’ve made and put in my Etsy shop (new bracelets should be in the shop in the next few weeks), then the money you pay me will probably go to one of my chosen organizations.

Now, it didn’t always work like this. For the longest time, that money went to pay my bills. And then, when I started making enough money through my various day jobs and a little from writing, I started saving it up. It’s never been a big cash flow. More like a nickel trickle. And last year I came to a point where I decided to put those nickels to some good use.

Why am I telling you this? Because some people like to tell other people how to spend their charity money. Even if they have absolutely no connection to that person’s charity money, they still feel the need to tell them that there are other, more deserving organizations than whatever one they chose to donate to, oh, and by the way, there’s no need to tell people that you donated to any charity because they do it all the time without needing to mention it, you unhumble jerk.

I am telling people this so they don’t make the grave mistake of buying something from me (except my books; that’s bill-paying money and I’m fairly sure folks are cool with me paying my bills) only to then have me take the hard-earned money they gave to me in exchange for goods and give it to some organization that they don’t feel is deserving and would rather I not ever mention.

I am also telling people this so I can tell the people that don’t even buy my stuff, but still have a problem with the organizations I give to, that they can just shut the fuck right up, turn right around, and give to the organizations they think are more deserving. Don’t like me talking about my organizations? Then you talk about yours louder than I talk about mine. Or don’t tell anyone at all and just mute/unfriend/hide me. Whatever trips your trigger, floats your boat, and/or tickles your fancy.

But for the love of all that is unholy, just in general, STOP TELLING PEOPLE THAT THEIR GIVING PRACTICES/AWARENESS RAISING IS WRONG. Sweet mercy, you fucking buzzkills. Shaming people because their giving/awarness-ing isn’t to your liking is just a dick move and you’re a terrible person and you should feel bad. No, really. You need to analyze your need to belittle someone trying to do something good. Because that seems like a serious hang-up to me. Major personality flaw. Also, not a good look.

(For clarity’s sake and to cut off an argument before it starts, I’m not talking about valid criticism of an organization because not all of them act on behalf of the greater good. I’m talking about people shitting on a reputable organization and/or fundraising/awareness attempts because of blah blah bullshit bitchcakes. You know what I’m talking about.)

So, in conclusion, if you buy something from me during the garage sale-ing of my life, that money will probably end up going to a organization that I dig. If that offends you, then you should not buy my stuff.

Except my books.

Always buy my books.

Garage Sale-ing My Life

~ Kiki Writes ~ Leave a comment

dresserI realized that “sale-ing” isn’t any kind of a word, but sometimes my world requires artistic liberties to explain.

Now is one of those times.

As mentioned before, one of my not-so-serious resolutions this year is to get rid of some stuff. This quickly became The Great Purge of 2015.

In addition to clearing projects from various To Do Lists, I’m also getting rid of my stuff. I’m either throwing it away, giving it away, or selling it. I have a lot of stuff I no longer need but other people may find useful. I hope to put together a garage sale this summer (probably with someone much better at it considering the last time I did it, all I got was a sunburn).

In the meantime, I’m using eBay and my Etsy store as online garage sales.

Right now on eBay, I just have some magazines (The Writer, Writer’s Digest, Sports Illustrated), some books, and that last Monkees VHS tape in my collection that no one will friggin’ buy. However, if I can ship it easily, it’ll probably end up there. I’ve got some Family Guy stuff (DVDs, a Blu-ray, lunch box, collector’s stuff), walkie-talkies, earbuds, and some other stuff in my T0-Sell pile that will probably end up on eBay before my yard.

As for Etsy, in addition to the jewelry and bags already there, I will be listing more jewelry, more bags, and probably some jewelry making things (beads and such) and fabric I’ve decided I’m never going to use.

The one thing that I’ve decided not to sell is my artwork. I gave it one go round on Etsy just for shits and giggles, but in the end, it’s just not the art you sell. It’s the art you give to unsuspecting people. Or suspecting people, as the case may be. The point is that right now it’s taking up space in one of my drawers when it could probably take up space on someone’s wall or fridge and it’s more likely to do that if its free. So I’ll be giving it to some random folks in my life.

Maybe I’ll even put up a few of the drawings here, Twitter, and Facebook to see if any brave souls want to lay claim and risk having their tastes mocked.

So if you want a piece of me, now is the time to get it.

You Can Sew Make Pajama Pants Into a Skirt

~ Kiki Writes ~ Leave a comment

Pajama skirtsNope, haven’t run out of sew puns yet.

When I went through my sewing drawer and bin, trying to assess what projects I needed to do this year so I could make some progress in clearing out my sewing drawer and bin, I came across two pairs of pajama pants. One was ripped up in the thigh area (friction is a science-based bitch) and the other pair was stretched out (there was a time when they fit a lot more loosely than they did when I tried them on to assess their worth, I won’t lie). And while it was rather easy for me to see which t-shirts would be good candidates for tote bags, I was a little stumped as to what to do with the pants. At first I thought I should just keep them for fabric scraps.

And then it hit me.

Why couldn’t I just make skirts out of them like I’d done to my jeans? The fabric and designs would make for cute skirts and I already had experience since I’d done a couple of skirts, so this wouldn’t be too difficult.

The plaid skirt wasn’t and I was pretty straight forward with it. I just cut off the legs at the desired length, cut open the legs, sewed everything together leaving a small back vent (the thigh holes weren’t any trouble), and then used hem tape to give the bottom him some weight. Ta Da! Skirt!

The star skirt was a little more involved because in order for this to work I’d have to take in the waist. The elastic was old and stretched out. Taking it in was the most obvious choice and I didn’t let never having done that before stop me. I did the same thing with the star skirt as I did with the plaid skirt, except I cut up the back seam as well. I cut the band, resized it, and then sewed everything back together. I decided that I liked the way the front looked with that open part and just did a small hem on it so it would keep that ripple effect but not fray. Then I used hem tape on the bottom hem and done! A second skirt.

It’s been too cold lately for me to test drive either of them. Maybe this weekend. I admit that since they’re old pajama pants, the material is pretty thin, but I think they’ll be really nice for late spring/summer/early fall when the temps are warmer.

And, of course, I did both of them by hand.

I’m still waiting for the day I learn to work a sewing machine.

The Great Purge of 2015

~ Kiki Writes ~ 1 Comment

dresserOne of my half-assed New Year’s Resolutions was to get rid of some of my stuff and if I got rid of one thing, that would be a success.

Yeah, I’ll be getting rid of more than one thing, I’m sure.

2015 has become The Year of the Purge.

Just in the first few weeks of the new year, I’ve been thinking about things I could get rid of, that I should get rid of, and I’ve gotten rid of a few things (old socks mostly). But it goes beyond the material and physical. I’ve already cleaned out emails, gotten rid of some sites I don’t really use anymore, and I’m looking to delete pictures from my phone and get rid of a bunch of links that I don’t need anymore in my bookmarks folder.

Back to the physical.

I’ve got a tub and a drawer full of fabric and t-shirts and other clothes designated for sewing projects. I’ve made a list of some sewing projects to get me started. The goal is to complete these projects and then either keep, sell, or give away the results, therefore clearing out my tub and drawer of some of the material I’ve accumulated.

I’ve boxes of things in the basement from an unsuccessful garage sale attempt a couple of years ago. I’m thinking another attempt needs to be made. Or I’m going to start listing things on eBay.

And, no, my writing hasn’t been spared from this need to lighten the load. My goal is to have all of the projects in various stages currently on my To Do List of Doom finished completely by the time NaNoWriMo gets here in November. My discipline has been sorely lacking when it comes to getting projects completed in a timely manner. This year, it changes. Nothing new until one novel, two anthologies, three novellas, and three outlines are done.

I need to be rid of these things, whether in my head or on my laptop or in my house.

This year, I’m all about losing weight.

Just not the kind that shows up on the scale.

Being Fat on Twitter

~ Kiki Writes ~ Leave a comment

Full fat aviThe past couple of weeks, I started getting a lot of friendly interaction from guys on Twitter. Friendly to the point of being straight up creeper. In one case I was pretty sure I was being measured for a skin suit and the guy doing it was kind of underwhelming and I was seriously bummed by the anti-climax there.

But, I digress, as I so often do.

At first, I couldn’t figure out why I was getting all of this attention. I wasn’t tweeting anything differently than I normally did. If anything, I’d been tweeting less than usual.

And then it hit me.

I had put up a new avi a few days after New Year’s Eve. A head and shoulders selfie of me wearing a white cami (that’s a kind of tank top, fellas) that I’d tinted to blue to give it a wintry look. I liked it. I thought it fit the January feel and I was looking for something I could have for a while before I got bored and decided to change it. Sounds pretty legit right? Nothing weird. Nothing overtly sexy. Nothing overtly anything, I thought.

Except the angle, the framing of the picture, well, you couldn’t tell that I’m fat.

January aviAhh! That’s it!

Guys think the “fat girl belly dancing” line in my bio is some sort of self-deprecation thing when they see that pic. I actually had one guy tell me that I’m “not that big”. Thanks, dude. Didn’t ask for your pitiful reassurance, but okay then.

As soon as I figured this out, I changed my avi to the full-figured shot at the top of the post. And I made a vow. Only full-fat avis (avies? avi’s? I still don’t know how to spell that) from now on.

First of all, that does cut down on some of the questionable attention, except for the odd chubby chaser.

Second of all, I don’t want the people that follow me, that read my tweets to forget that I’m legit fat and not “OMG I’M SO FAT!!!” fat. That when I talk about my weight, even when I joke about it, I’m talking about my actual state of existence. I’m not fishing for a compliment. This is my actual being, kids. I am fat. Legit fat. For real. And I’m going to comment upon it from time to time.

I don’t want guys to be misled because I put up a picture of my pretty face and they miss out on the rolls in the bakery and cottage cheese in the dairy section. I want them to know that I am more than likely a girl they wouldn’t give the time of day to on the street because she’s a “fatty”.

This is a public service, my friends.

I just can’t be responsible for anymore broken hearts.

35 Now

~ Kiki Writes ~ Leave a comment

birthday hatI’m going to be honest with you about something.

Yesterday, when I officially turned 35, I was more put out about the fact that I had to run errands and go grocery shopping than I was about turning 35.

When it comes to my birthday, I am like a toddler. It’s mine, mine, mine! I don’t have to! It’s my birthday! I get to do whatever I want! And I don’t want to be a grown-up and do grown-up things!

Which brings me to my next reflective point about turning 35.

I am now on the downward slide to 40 (“Hands up! Test your nuts!” as we used to say while riding roller coasters) and as such I’m sure there are people looking at me, possibly wanting to poke me, wondering what the hell is wrong with me. I’m 35 now. I’m supposed to be a grown-up. I’m supposed to be this, that, and the other with a real job and a mortgage and bills and all the trappings of adulthood. I’m supposed to be striving to meet society’s expectations of a woman of my advanced age (and weight, but that’s a different post). What am I doing?

This is actually something I’ve reflected on quite a bit in the month leading up to my birthday.  I gave serious consideration to the fact that I’m still dodging a big part of the standard adult business and that maybe I should consider, you know, straightening up and flying right.

But I just can’t make myself do it, kids. I knew it back when I was 12. I remember being supremely unhappy at the prospect of being 13 because that would mean I was a teenager and after teenager was adult and there was so much of that life stage that I didn’t find appealing. I liked being a kid and I’ve always been very bitter about the whole growing up thing.

Here’s the thing. I KNOW I can adult. I could adult with the best of them. I’m very good at responsibility. I’m so good at responsibility that I’ve been known to take on responsibilities that aren’t even mine. I’m very reliable and dependable and organized. I’m mature. I’ve been mature since I was little. I have all of the qualifications to be a good and proper adult according to society’s standards.

I just don’t want to BE an adult.

After years of doing things I hated in order to live up to someone else’s standards, trying to please other people, I realized that I have no desire to adult. It’s an epic drag and it’s not for me.

I’d rather do things my way, if you don’t mind.

So if that means being 35 and not being grown-up, that’s perfectly cool with me.

Goals?

~ Kiki Writes ~ Leave a comment

ThinkingUsually at the beginning of a new year, I make several posts about goals. I’ve got my writing goals and my reading goals and my life goals. And I put them all out on the interwebs in written down form so I may be held accountable for said goals. Which is all very well and nice and productive and whatnot.

As 2014 drew to a close and 2015 dawned, I realized that I didn’t want to have goals for 2015. Not that I wanted to be lazy and slack off for a whole year (I’ve done that; it was a drag), but that I just didn’t want to have goals for the year.

I think part of it comes from a conversation I had with my mom last month in which she said something about goals being an invitation to disappointment. I can certainly see what she meant. When  you set a goal and then don’t achieve it, that’s disappointing. When you set a goal and do achieve it, the victory can feel hollow. I’ve had both of those things happen to me. However, I also have set goals that have motivated me to reach them if nothing more than for spite because I’m a competitive person and I don’t like to lose when I’m battling myself.

I think, though, this conversation may have planted a seed in my head. When I started thinking about what I wanted my writing goals to be for the year, I didn’t want to set anything in stone because I wasn’t sure. When I shifted my thoughts to reading goals (as I’m always struggling to be a better reader), I really couldn’t think of anything in particular I wanted to work for. And life? Well, yeah…

So after some thought I decided that it might be an interesting experiment to not put goals on those things for the year.

Again, that doesn’t mean I’ll be slacking. I’m just going to put the focus on “Do” instead of “Achieve”.

So with the emphasis on “Do” in mind, I’m going to work towards really getting all of the old writing projects languishing on the Great To Do List done. This, of course, isn’t going to stop me from starting something new, but my focus needs to be on the old stuff and that’s what I’m doing to strive for.

I’m going to try to read everyday with no expectation of finishing a set number of books.  Let’s see how many I can finish just by reading everyday, be it for five minutes or an hour.

And for the rest of it?

I’m just going to DO whatever I can.

I’m Trying to Teach Myself to Play Guitar…Again

~ Kiki Writes ~ 1 Comment

Music noteSeveral years ago, possibly in the neighborhood of fifteen if I really think about it and piece together clues from my kinda garbage memory, I asked for and received a guitar for Christmas. I like music a great deal and I thought it’d be great to learn how to play guitar. I figured it wouldn’t be a big deal to teach myself the how-to’s. After all, ain’t that how it was done in the old days?

Yeah, well, as usual, I underestimated myself.

I probably only played my cheap little acoustic a handful of times in the first month that I had it and then I put it away in my closet to be ignored. I think I got it out a few times when I cleaned my closet and at some point I managed to lose the strap and the little guitar bag it came in (it didn’t have a proper hard case), but the point is, it’s sat mostly neglected. Aside from learning like two chords in a half-assed manner, that guitar got very little use.

Two reasons for this, both of which happen to be fundamental aspects of my personality and also great pains in my large posterior and can be explained with one story that my mother loves to tell.

One day, when I was about three years old, I was found in my grandparents’ closet with a book on my lap and I was crying. My papa asked me what was wrong. The problem? I couldn’t read the book. I was mad and frustrated and disappointed and upset because at three I couldn’t read this book I had chosen. I’d only just started reading words, you see, and I thought that I should have been able to read ALL of them.

I still have a tendency to be like that. If I can’t get something right away, particularly if I think I SHOULD be able to get it right away, then I get really frustrated by my inability to get it. And then I beat myself up for being an incompetent stupidhead and eventually end up giving up. This doesn’t happen with everything, but it has happened with more than I’d like to admit and probably a lot more than should have been allowed.

You’ll notice that I was trying to read that book in a closet. You wouldn’t know it by the fact that I blog and the way I run my mouth on Twitter, but I’m actually a very secretive person. I don’t like people knowing I’m doing things, particularly if I’m learning new things. I don’t need people asking me questions and frowning at me and putting doubts into my head. I do that enough without help.

So fifteen or so years ago I never learned to play the guitar because I was frustrated I wasn’t picking up the chords fast enough and  I didn’t want anyone hearing me practice. I live in a small house. Shutting the door just doesn’t cut it.

This past weekend, though, I got the urge to learn to play the guitar again. I thought of how much easier it would be with the ready Internet access for handy tips and the downloadable apps for tuning and learning chords. It’d actually be really easy, much easier than the first time when all I had was a book and no means to properly tune. And it could be fun.

Writing has slowly worn away that hang-up I have about being perfect the first time. It’s okay to make a mess and be terrible at something at first. And who cares if the other people in the house can hear me? They don’t care if I can hear their Jerry Springer and midnight conversations when I’m trying to sleep. They can put up with my guitar.

In conclusion, I’m giving it another go. Let’s see if I do better this time around.

Also, callouses.

Dear Twitter Followers…

~ Kiki Writes ~ Leave a comment

TwitterSometimes when I gain new followers on Twitter that end up being real people, I feel like I should warn them about myself. This usually comes about because it’s obvious that they’re only following me because of one aspect of my Twitter and I’m not sure they’re aware of the other bits of nothing I spew there. I know that some of them must have had the smarts to read through my timeline to get an idea of what my Twitter business is about, but sometimes I wonder.

So, here are the important things I feel someone should know if they’re following me on Twitter:

-Mute the Cubs hashtag if you’re not a Cubs/baseball fan. I cannot stress this enough and I actually remind people to do this periodically. I am ANNOYING during baseball season. I live tweet the games and usually make terrible jokes and often try to find the silver lining in every loss. Obviously, this dies down during the off season, but things will still happen like trades and Cubs Con, so it’s best to be prepared.

-I sometimes tweet about TV shows currently in production. I try to be mindful of the spoilers. If I’m going to be tweeting a lot about a show, I’ll be sure to use the hashtag so you can mute it. Otherwise, enjoy my random, sporadic commentary.

-I’m more likely live tweet reruns, though (which shouldn’t be too surprising if you read my Twitter bio because it says right there that I’m a Rerun Junkie, among other things). Right now it’s mostly Fantasy Island and Voyage to the Bottom of the Sea since Addam’s Family hasn’t been on, but I’ve done it for Dragnet, Adam-12, Emergency!, The Golden Girls, The Rifleman, Gunsmoke, Big Valley, Perry Mason, and Ironside, among others. Just know that it can and probably will happen at some point and I don’t always use convenient hashtags to mute.

-I will favorite anything and everything. I favorite what I like, what amuses me, what I want to be able to find again later. I don’t abide by any established favoriting rules. I’m a rebel, baby.

-I’m not funny all the time. I try to be at least somewhat amusing because I’m not much of anything else (informative or political or current event-ish). So if you’re following me because of one tweet you found really funny, hold on to that tweet. Because there’s a good chance I’ll never be that funny to you again.

-I tweet about my life. Usually just the non-boring bits, but also the boring bits. I tweet when I’m going to a job or when I’m going to sleep because some people like to know why the hell I’m not replying to them. Call them health and welfare checks, if you will.

-Sometimes I tweet a lot. There are days when I tweet so much you might think I’m not doing anything else.

-Sometimes I don’t tweet very much. There are days I might only have one or two tweets. If I’m not feeling social or interesting, then I don’t force myself to be. That’s dumb.

-I will probably follow you back. I like interesting people and I’m not a social media snob. If I think we can relate, then I’ll follow you.

-I am finicky about who I @, though. I stop myself a lot from replying to people a lot. I consider this a courtesy because off-line I usually don’t take advantage of the pause to think if what I’m about to say isn’t as funny as I think it is. Also, I don’t reply to a lot of people’s tweets because I don’t think I’m cool enough to be tweeting at that particular person.

-I will unfollow you and not feel bad about it. Sometimes there’s no hard feelings. You’re just not my type. Sometimes it’s because you turned out to be something a lot more distasteful than I initially thought. Quick route to being unfollowed: be a bigot. Any kind of bigot. Doesn’t matter. I’m a very intolerant person. I will not tolerate your active dedication to being a piece of shit.

-And finally…I’m way cooler on Twitter than I am anywhere else on the Internet or off of it. Truth.

The Anxiety Monster

~ Kiki Writes ~ Leave a comment

Kiki's red hairI have a mild problem with anxiety. Back in the day, smoking is what helped me medicate it. I smoked when I got anxious. The nicotine helped when I’d get that sudden flare of what I called “fuck up anxiety”, that sure fire feeling that I had just fucked up even if I hadn’t, or if I had, it was so insignificant that an ant wouldn’t notice it because it was such a small thing. Just the act of getting the cigarette out of the pack, lighting it up, taking the first inhale, smoking that sucker down, helped take the edge off of that.

I don’t smoke anymore, but I still have that fuck up anxiety.

I’m having it right now, actually, as I type this.

It likes to settle in my shoulders mostly and ride up the back of my neck. My brain likes to replay whatever it is that I’ve done or think I’ve done until it’s so huge and wound up so tight my head would spin off if it were to let go. It makes me want to primal scream in an attempt to release the pressure in my head and drown out the voices assaulting my character.

It’s really annoying. I’ve yet to come up with decent coping mechanism in the five years since I quit smoking. Meditation helps, but funnily enough, when the anxiety acts up, I don’t want to meditate. Kind of defeats the purpose there, huh?

Now, I know that compared to some of my friends, I’m getting off easy. Their anxiety and the resulting attacks can be debilitating and that’s pretty awful. I do acknowledge that I’m lucky in that respect that it isn’t worse for me. I can actually still function despite the anxiety.

But it’s still annoying.

I don’t need any help from my brain when it comes to screwing things up. I can do bad and feel bad all by myself over legit things. I don’t need to blow up tiny seconds and non-existent moments into a disaster.

Sometimes, it’s a once in a while thing. I can go weeks and not have a problem. And then I have times when it’s basically an all the time feeling that can go on for weeks. It lightens up, but never really goes away. It’s the latter that I’ve been dealing with lately. It makes me a right irritable bitch because the constant anxiety puts me on edge and within a day I hate everything, everyone, and your mother, too.

I haven’t exactly figured out the triggers for it. I think some of it is stress. I think some of it could be hormonal. I think some of it could just be. I don’t think I always need a trigger.

I do need a better coping method to riding it out, though. Because this habit of doing nothing but feeling bad and being irritated and not meditating isn’t working.

Stupid anxiety monster hanging around the closets of my mind.