May 25th, 2015

2013, cyd, new

What the hell is a "crash dump"?

And why does it come with the Blue Screen of Death? And why does it keep happening to me? I haven't added any hardware lately. It's Windows Media Player, it won't play nice with any other programs. I have to find an mp3 player that doesn't take up ALL the resources.

Doc called on his way to work. He talked to the guy. And the guy was going to drop by sometime with something for me. So I have been waiting for the guy for almost five hours. I'm assuming he had family obligations, as he only lives four doors down from me. He is Grumpy Old Man's son, so there is NO way I'm going over there. That man will eat me alive.

I tried to clean off the dining room table without moving much of Doc's stuff. He hinted that he needed help with it, it just seemed too overwhelming. So I sorted things into piles and got rid of empty pill bottles. He has this thing where he can not recycle pill bottles. Not the prescription ones, I'm saving those for an art project, but over the counter ones. I just cleared no fewer than a dozen out of our medicine cabinet in the hallway. And I took another half dozen off of his table. I also found half a dozen packs of rolling papers. And we don't use them that often. Once a month we will splurge on a joint. I gathered those up and put them away.

He had change all over the place. I condensed that into a Japanese pottery jewelry holder I gave him for Xmas a couple of years ago. The change filled it. I collected screws and bolts and nuts and a drill and got them into the garage, where such things go. Put all of the coupons into the coupon basket, and replaced the full receipt bag (I have to keep all of my receipts in case Social Security ever wants to do an audit) with an empty one. Gathered all of his pens into a pile. And other such gathering and sorting, with a healthy dose of recycling of plastic and paper. I'm going to make another attempt at it in a little while. I know I can get past the top layer, down to the important papers that need to be filed.

I should also hang his clothes and put them away. And I really need to dust. And I think it is long past the time to move the cat tree back over to where it was before the Xmas tree took over the space. The Xmas tree has been down a couple of months now, and I need that corner back that the cat tree is occupying now. That's my desk corner and I can't get into my hardware drawer without disturbing at least two cats at any given time.

And then it's time to do one of two things: Either study my WordPress materials, or work on scanning in the material that will be used for rewards for the top tier of donations. There will be four tiers: $1, $3, $5 and $10 per month. That will require me to create four password protected directories on my site, one for each tier. And some material will be duplicated for higher tiers, so that they have access to all that the lower tiers do.

So the third and fourth tiers will get access to my handwritten journals, dating back to 1984, as well as access to live webcam arting shows and videos made from the shows. First and second tiers will only get to access videos of the cam footage after the fact, and of course, high res photos of the piece of whatever I happen to be arting on. I haven't sorted it all out yet, but I'm pretty positive that I can make this work. Written poetry for first and second tiers, spoken word for third and fourth tier, with requests from the fourth tier from any of my written work to be read and recorded and added to the catalog. And I may do special mail-out rewards occasionally. When I release my EP, I think that fourth tier should get a copy of it as part of their reward package. A physical, labeled CD. While third tier will get a digital download. I may do the same thing with chapbooks, depending on whether I can find a print on demand service that won't charge me $10 for something that I could realistically only sell for $5 at readings.

So that big mess of a previous paragraph, in my mind, is all organized. And just waiting on me to do the work. I'm in no real rush because I simply don't have the fan base to support my endeavors right now. Which reminds me, tonight would be the perfect time to get shit done. Which would be MUCH easier if the Guy showed up. A nice buzz would do wonders for my creativity right now. Graphics, audio post-production, never ending posting/promoting, all go much more smoothly when I can calm my mind.

I'm in freaky Doc-is-gone-during-the-day-and-won't-get-back-until-2am mode. He's working the magical, mythical Golden Time. When holiday pay overlaps overtime and regular time pay and ends up being triple time. If I can get him to work every day this week, we'll have rent and maybe an extra $50 to go to First Friday. Now that I've convinced him I don't want to buy other people's art, I want to study local competition, he realizes that he and the dog just have to meander around with a beer buzz making sure I don't wander off. Easy-peasy. I want to take pictures of people's feet. As we transition from spring's Doc Martens to whatever punks here wear during the summer on their feet, I want to chronicle it. I broke out my neon blue Doc's yesterday to help walk Doc home from the bus with groceries. It was so weird having my feet encased in something that fit. I've been running around in bare feet all winter, and in Doc's sneakers when I have to go out front to get the mail. My feet aren't used to confinement. But it felt empowering to have them on again.
I was also wearing Doc's field hat. Well, his Dad's field hat. His dad thought it was cute that I like watch caps and field hats and flight suits and other trappings of military clothing. When we lived near them, he would encourage it in me. I was the tomboy that he never had. His daughter is a girly girl.

Okay, I think that paragraph set some kind of record for number of completely different subjects represented in one paragraph. My English teachers would beat me with their lesson plans.

Question: What exactly does a Doctor have to do to get a chain of pharmacies (both brick and mortar, and online mail order) to reject their scripts for controlled substances? Doc has a long standing script with our pharmacy, CVS, for his Xanax, which he mainly gets for me, because the FDA no longer allows my needed dosage to be prescribed. When he went in to fill it, they told him they no longer filled scripts from his doctor that required a DEA #. Holy shit. They transferred it to another pharmacy for him, so he's still getting it, but it really freaked him out about his doctor. Is he playing fast and loose with the pain meds? He makes Doc come in for an office visit for every inhaler he prescribes, so he didn't seem like someone who would cut corners on scripts. Strange.

Yeah, I'm going to go take another whack at the dining room table. I know I can do more without totally throwing off his vibe with it. And maybe even find the little glass jar I threw at his head the other day when he was taking B's side and I was trying to get him to shut up and listen to me instead of just believing B's lies. So I aimed it square at his head, knowing full well it would veer off to the right and hit the wall and bounce. I have horrible aim. He didn't even duck. He knows. We just don't know where it bounced to. I looked all around the table, that's what started me on cleaning the table off in the first place today.

Wow, I actually made a public post. One thing I won't offer as a reward on Patreon is "friend" status in here. That still must be earned. Because I really am telling you guys the raw, unfiltered truth in here. See: constant repetition. So when I lock it down, it's for a reason that is not quantifiable by cash.

Wow, another hour has passed. This Semagic window into LJ is a rabbit hole. I know I've been writing long ass entries, but you guys are my only outlet. Literally. Doc has been too inside himself lately, and with good reason, to contribute to my mental runnings on. So that leaves you. Facebook doesn't count. I find I do the same thing others do, find something, anything positive to cling to and post about. On twitter, it's just become a contest I'm holding with myself to see how many followers I can lose with my unabridged thoughts in 140 characters or less. Like, the supporters of the Duggar daughters were into it when I put up an advocacy meme about the girls, but not so much when I suggested we need an advocacy group with armed extraction teams to rescue victims. And I wonder why people fear me.

Have I ever told you that when Doc and I spell things out, we do it in the NATO phonetic alphabet code? Whiskey Tango Foxtrot, Cyd? So I'm not the only weird one in this relationship. We got into a spat last night in Canadian French and bastardized Korean. The dog didn't know what to do. He was alarmed at our tones, but wasn't hearing any of the trigger words that indicate we are fighting. He just sat there, looking from one of us to another. We stopped when he started whining, because he doesn't do that very often. He alarmed us at just how much his whimpering sounded like meowing. Shit is getting real in Chewbacca's head. The transformation into Transfeline is almost complete for him. Let's see Bruce Jenner beat that one.