Hell and Wheels

January 19, 2009

Hope Springs Eternal, and All That

This is my first big recession. Well, the first that directly affected me. When I was a kid, there were those long lines at the gas pumps, but the worst trauma that came out of that was I had to roll around in the Way Back of my Mom’s Ford LTD station wagon and angst over whether or not I would make it back home in time for Kroft Superstars. Then, in 2001, there was a recession, but I didn’t feel that one, either. I was in health care, so there were just as many patients before as after, and my benevolent employer had already told me I wouldn’t be earning any more money with him (yeah, and I stayed two more years), so clearly there was no dent in my raises/bonuses. Since its inception, the Architect’s then business was a constant struggle to keep afloat, making the crunch of hard times feel no different than what he and I had been struggling with for years. But this one–ah, this one–I’m feeling every single second of it. And, yeah, I’m more than a little scared. It goes to figure when we finally decide to be grownups and buy a house and gut the entire thing, everything goes in the shitter two months later. Sometimes when I think of it, I even feel a little sorry for myself. Then, I think of Nana.

Nana was my great-grandmother. When I was old enough to appreciate her, she was already pushing ninety, and was a self-proclaimed, “Wheezy, woozy, wobbly old bitch.” Nana was born before the turn of the century–not this past one, but the one that used to sound so impressive to young ears. Nana survived two world wars, a depression, the early death of her husband, and rebounded from loss of a breast to cancer in a time when the odds of surviving were clearly out of her favor (and reconstructive surgery was a laughable proposition). She watched one son go to war, and a son-in-law follow. She worked as a telephone operator, and still managed to bake two pies and a cake every week for her family. She saw it all, from the highest of highs, to the lowest of lows. And when my thoughts turn to Nana, I think to myself that if that old bitch could weather rough seas, then so can this young one.

Every generation has its tale of woe. From World War II, to Vietnam, to right now. It’s only natural that if one lives long enough, one will see hard times, along with the good. So, instead of wishing it wouldn’t happen, I will instead wish that we each live long enough to see the bad, and then live long enough to watch our country climb back to the top.

On a related topic (and the tinfoil-hat-type living inside me is shouting that it’s still too early to celebrate), tomorrow is the day when change comes. If I were to allocate my excitement, it would be 35% for the new guy, and 65% for the fact the other one will be gone for good. I’d post this tomorrow (when the inner foil-head girl will finally be silenced–about this topic, anyway), but I’m planning on parking my ass on the sofa and watching the changing of the guards in real-time. It’s the first time I’ll have ever bothered to watch the festivities, so you can guess just how excited I really am for the changeover to occur.

Below is my celebration song (no actual video content, sorry). I have waited a long, long time to play it. If you’re less than enthused about the coming changeover (or offended by Bad Words), skip it.

The lyrics (for those of you that don’t understand metal-speak):

http://widgets.metrolyrics.com/o/492da13d111f5ab4/4974a72c2d2531d5/492da13d46e17ea3/a99aaa8a/-cpid/af86328e8ff7d143

Ministry Lyrics
The Last Sucker Lyrics

11 Comments | posted in change, hard times, hope, inauguration, Ministry, recession, The Last Sucker, Uncle Al

January 9, 2009

Just So We’re All Clear

By Avery

A short, yet illuminating video** (because I’m too lazy to write anything useful today):

Oh, and taking a chance on any of the thousands of new writers with zero credentials, but mind-blowing novels–now THAT’S

**Thanks again to my personal, internet-scouring evil flying monkey, “X” for finding this video

7 Comments | posted in Uncategorized

January 7, 2009

Back–and as Always, in Black

By Avery

I departed sunny Florida on Sunday, the fourth, leaving behind a huge, four-bedroom house, a hot tub, fully functional indoor climate control, and some of the prettiest, sunniest days I have ever witnessed. I arrived back on the good ol’ Eastern Shore fifteen hours later, and haven’t seen the sun since. It’s been rainy, drizzly and cold. The wind blew so hard while we were gone that bits of our exposed insulation popped out of the studs. Currently, the rain is pinging against the vent pipe of the pellet stove, reminding me with every drop that I’m not in Oz, anymore. Still, I’m happy. My low ceilings feel cozy and snug compared to the soaring ten, twelve foot ceilings in my brother-in-law’s house. My trailer-width living room glows softly with the combined ambiance of the firelight and red-lighted Christmas tree–no, I haven’t taken it down, yet. My books, stacked up in piles as they are, are a welcome sight after spending a week in a house where the only books to be found were on a tiny kids’ shelf, and another private collection consisting of only James Patterson novels.

Don’t get me wrong. I had fun down there. There was horseback riding–something I haven’t done for nearly twenty years. I scuffed the crap out of my combat boots climbing an orange tree to reach a handful of huge, perfectly ripe fruits. I took photographs as my extended family raised a cloud of dust chasing chickens in a vain attempt to get my mother-in-law’s rooster some company. I raided a cigar shop for boxes and came out loaded with many containers which have since solved my desktop organizational issues–one even holds my beloved index cards. On New Year’s Eve I tasted some white lightening, got in the hot tub, and then bore witness to a drunken old man (who, despite my evil inclinations to do otherwise, shall not be named) stripping down to his ultra brief-briefs and climbing in to join me. I think I might be a little mentally scarred from that one, though.

Now I’m back, mercifully without a trace of suntan, and am ready to hit this year full force. I’ll be putting Resonance in the Amazon Breakthrough Novel Award contest this February. I’m not expecting much to come of it, but one never knows which way the winds might blow. I’ll also be hitting up some more agents in the next few weeks and moving forward with my next two novels. The insane asylum which was my computer room is now much more conducive to creativity–mostly thanks to the Architect, who finished insulation in the attic/loft, so I could move some shit around and make space for more clutter storage.

Despite the persistent gloom outside my windows, I’m in a pretty optimistic mood. My favorite sore point, Captain Jackass, has his days numbered at thirteen, and then we’ll have a brand new sheriff in town. For being such a pessimistic stick-in-the-mud, I’m surprisingly giddy/hopeful about our new administration. Of course, the economy is the big nasty hiding under the bed for all of us, but, the way I figure, even if jobs go away and my house is taken back and everything material goes in the shitter, it’s still just stuff. As long as I have the Architect and my kitties, everything else is just stuff. And I’m pretty sure I can get more of that somewhere along the way.

Yeah. I’m ready to move forward, and I don’t mind sayin’ I’m feelin’ pretty groovy.

8 Comments | posted in amazon, breakthrough novel award, Florida, Vacation

December 23, 2008

Traditions

By Avery

When I was little, my grandmother lived two doors down. When I was a bit bigger, she lived ten minutes away. Even so, she always stayed the night on Christmas Eve, arriving in the late afternoon, her car as laden as Santa’s sleigh with a multitude of jumbo trash bags filled with presents. She would cart this enticing jackpot into the house, plop it all behind the tree, and then settle in to wait out the long night with us. And even though my grandfather had died on Christmas Eve when I wasn’t yet three, she never showed anything but her usual gruff good nature. Even when I was older and we were good friends, I never asked how many nights she had cried herself to sleep in my narrow twin bed while I tossed in gleeful anticipation on our basement couch, and she never told.

One year in the eighties (when home computers were just emerging on the scene, and my entire family sported Ogilve home perm, brillo-pad-heads) my grandmother brought out an enticing package. After much speculation, my brother and I decided the monitor-shaped item could only be a Commodore 64 (kids really can’t grasp the concept of items coming in packing boxes and other superfluous nonsense, you know). Cementing our certainty was my grandmother’s cryptic comment, “This is for the whole family.” So, of course, our disappointment was palpable when we opened the package to discover Trivial Pursuit and its companion, the Genius Edition, bundled together. Yet, in retrospect that gift was far better than a computer ever could have been. First off, it was more fun than typing C:Run over and over again, and, more importantly, it provided a tradition of Christmas Eve trivia that lasted for many years.

I’m no longer a kid. Thankfully, all traces of my fried poodle head have vanished. My grandmother is gone, and long before her went our family’s ritualistic pursuit of trivia. Time continues forward and, willingly or unwillingly, we must follow along. As I’ve grown, new Christmas Eve traditions have bloomed where old ones died: helping Mom fill the nieces’ and nephew’s stockings, watching movies until way after midnight (and praising all the powers in the universe when none of them involve Chuck Norris), and–my personal favorite–getting a good buzz on with Dad.

Speaking of new traditions, I have three dozen truffles to finish coating, and a crazy amount of packing to do for our trip first to my parents’, then on south to Florida. I hope each of you enjoy your holidays in your own way–be they quiet or boisterous, simple or strange–and may your memories be as happy as mine.

10 Comments | posted in Merry Christmas

December 18, 2008

Meet the Krampus

By Avery

Were you one of those children bored with the saccharine goodwill oozed by corporational profit-driven Christmas ad campaigns? Was the threat of getting a lump of coal and a couple of sticks not nearly enough to deter you from accumulating a hefty tally of pre-holiday misdeeds? Did you ever just look at that big, red sleigh and know something was missing? If so, allow me to introduce you to the Krampus.

Yep. That’s a baby in his bag, and he ain’t deliverin’ it, either.

The Krampus is a companion to Santa Claus in some European traditions. He’s the yin to the yang, the devil to Nick’s savior. He’s the enforcer, the allocator of punishment. The Bad Ass. In many traditions, the Krampus is more mischievous than wicked, laying down a single silver branch in lieu of presents to represent the offending child’s misdeeds. But, in other traditions, he carries a bundle of sticks for kid-whipping. In some instances he goes so far as to drag along chains, rattling out the rhythm to which he will later pummel the little ingrates. He even has a night, December fifth (or sixth, depending on where you look). Because loud, obnoxious boys like to be loud, obnoxious drunks, the holiday has been taken over by inebriated young men who dress up in their Krampiest best and take to the streets, beating the crap out of people with sticks for the hell of it. Apparently, it’s not a good night to be a young woman and need anything from the local store.

Despite his spiraling decline into an excuse to get drunk (ring a spiked, eggnogish Christmas morning bell to anyone?), I find the Krampus fascinating. Not only does this mean–oh happy day–that Santa hauls around his very own nasty demon, it also means the Krampus’ existence removes all vindictiveness from the Jolly Man’s shoulders. And I like that. Santa can forever remain the symbol of unconditional generosity, and the Krampus will deal with the putting of boots up tiny backsides.

Knowing the Krampus is wandering out there, ready to smack me in the head with a fistful of linked steel has indeed inspired me to rein it in for the next few days. Maybe even lay off the “f” word. Well, at least cut it down to every two words, or so. In case you’re still disinclined to be good, for Krampus’ sake, here are a few more images:

Thanks once again to my suitably nefarious friend, X, for turning me on to the wonders of the Krampus. Happy Krampus Day, X, and the same to all of you.

11 Comments | posted in Christmas, Krampus, punishment, Saint Nicholas

December 12, 2008

Rest in Peace, Gorgeous

By Avery

She broke the rules while wearing a corset. She plowed through the pop culture blonde bombshell stereotype like a Mack Truck. Now thousands of girls run around wearing her bangs, sporting halter tops and cuffed jeans, while tattoos of her curvaceous body and impish smile peek out from under their long, sleek hair. Never a legend in the traditional sense, but a legend just the same.

Rest well, Ms. Page.

12 Comments | posted in Uncategorized

December 10, 2008

Stereotype This

By Avery

I usually love where I live. It’s quiet, slow-paced, and people are generally very friendly. However, once in a while I come across someone who just doesn’t “get” me, someone who, for whatever reason, feels it necessary to take it upon themselves to poke at me like I’m a bizarre insect, to prod into my cage with their pointy stick until they elicit the behavior they seem to feel I should have displayed at the outright, the behavior they have assigned to individuals with my appearance.

Steve did a great post a while ago on stereotypes in writing, and their necessity. As art echoes life, I understand the need for stereotypes in society, for neat little boxes to insert people into so that they may be understood better: athletic; beautiful; nerdy; normal; devil worshipper. You know, all the usuals. I understand that without the means to sort and categorize the world around us, humanity would lose much of its ability to function. Boxes have a purpose. They help keep our minds from overloading. I get that. I just wish we all could follow basic kindergarten rules and be nice and keep our sorting mechanisms to ourselves.

To the charming lady I ran into in the store yesterday, here’s an educational video to help you out. Enjoy.

(Bad words here, kiddies… Get Mom and Dad’s permission before clicking. Or just don’t tell them I was the one who taught you how to say them)

10 Comments | posted in Uncategorized

December 1, 2008

Back from the Void

By Avery

Well, I’ve managed to crawl out of the sucking (in so many ways) blackness of technological meltdown just in time to say I hope all my American friends had a happy Thanksgiving. My evildoer cohort/benefactor, “X”, came through and I have a monitor to use until the new iMac’s come out in early January, at which time I will have a brand-spanking-new computer on which to play Sims… Ahem, I mean write.

Thanks to everyone for their well-wishes in my absence. I’ll be back to doing the rounds of blogs in a day or so. I have one last mission to accomplish before settling back into the writing routine–climbing into the fifteen-foot long, six-foot wide, peaked space that is what’s left of our attic (which was stuffed to the gills with everything we owned when we started renovations) and finding the Christmas decorations stored at the very back. While I’m at it, I suppose it would behoove me to locate my party clothes, as the Architect’s firm is having its annual gathering on Friday, and all my festive clothing is trapped somewhere amongst the rubble. Oh, and on that note, allow me to give a piece of advice to anyone getting ready to renovate; don’t smash the crap out of your closet until you have an official place to stash your duds. Boxes, trash bags and your grandmother’s old powder-blue suitcase with the jacked-up zipper are paltry substitutes for proper storage.

I’m looking forward to getting back into the loop, catching up on everyone’s brilliant posts and getting my writing going again.

Thanks again, X, for the loan. I promise the cats aren’t getting hair on it.

Much.

13 Comments | posted in Uncategorized

November 12, 2008

Around, just mostly unavailable

By Avery

Sad to say, it seems my monitor is on the brink of–if not already toppled into the chasm of–death. So, until further notice, I’ll be noticably absent. I can still get emails on my cell (and obviously can type very painful short posts on its teeny, tiny screen). I’m hoping this matter can be resolved quickly and with little pain, but I’m not holding out too much hope for this eight year-old machine.

Great. Now my eyes are crossed.

Have a good one.

12 Comments | posted in Uncategorized

November 4, 2008