Yeah, support an artist and stuff!

So this meme has been making the laps-

No photo description available.

And thought to myself hell yeah! I love supporting artists and buying unique stuff and getting commissioned work and sharing their stuff and telling everyone I know! Everyone should do this!

And then the little voice in my head said, ‘Hey, stupid… you realize you’re an artist, right?’

I hate that guy, seriously, cause he’s usually right.

My point being, though, I’ve written a few books. And unlike all those huge success stories of self epublishing you hear, they aren’t porn (/cough or erotica) or The Martian. But I did write them, I think they are pretty fun, and some of the folks that have read them have been kind enough to let me know they enjoyed them. If you’re into teenaged witches (start with The Witch’s Daughter) or really messed up fairy tales (The Way of the Fae), I hope you’ll consider giving them a look.

I’m working on something new now, with my all time favorite character let loose for pretty much the first time in years. It’s a little light and funny, and I’m having a good time with it.

I hope you’ll be able to check it out someday.

https://www.amazon.com/s?k=B0786WRHBG&i=stripbooks&_encoding=UTF8&shoppingPortalEnabled=true

Actual Conversation at Casa de Wellman- Body splat throwback Thor’s Day edition

Real conversation around the house a few months ago while playing Diablo 3-

Me- wow, hon, do you have to explode the bodies of our enemies? Look at that, they are flying all over the screen. Seems really violent.
Rick- (feeling the long sideways glance) uhh .. You know that’s YOU doing that with your meteor spell, right?
Me- huh. (proves the point by casting the body splatty spell again)

Quiet for a few beats

Me- well, yanno… It is kinda cool…


 

Yes, we still love Diablo.. Switch, PS4, hit us up, we’ll go riftin…

Random Ramble, Possibly Controversial- Why I’m saying I was wrong.

Equality is a funny word, when you stop and think about it. We’re all all about equality, in the general sense.

And then we start applying conditionals.

“Oh, equality? Hells to the yeah, the genders/races/classes should absolutely be equal!” And then you bring up subsidized childcare so women can work and better funding for schools with racial divides that are falling behind and the pay gaps between genders, races, and economic statuses, and suddenly equality doesn’t sound so great to some folk.

So they talk about opportunity- “Well, everyone has the same chances in life! It’s what you do with it!”

But do they? Do they really? Consider that a 19 year old white man will certainly see a different level of consequences than a similar charge against a 19 year old black man. That’s not equality or the same level of opportunity. Systemic racism is a well researched, documented, and for most folk, acknowledged problem in our country.

I used to believe those things, too. I used to believe that health care was a privilege and not a right. Back in the time when I felt I had to push others down to feel that I walked tall, it wasn’t my problem that those other people over there couldn’t land a good enough job to have health care benefits- it was their fault for not trying harder, not working harder, for choosing to be complacent. Because if I didn’t believe that, it was the same as admitting I was one fuck up away from being there myself.

And then, heaven help us all, I grew the fuck up. I realized that I am not, in fact, immortal, that my body will, in fact, weaken, sicken, and eventually it will part ways with the rest of me.

I watched my friends and family struggle with finding care they could afford, and sometimes fail. I have seen dreams wither and die against the onslaught of medical bills- bills that we all know are wildly fucking inflated so insurance and pharmaceutical companies can continue to turn around record profits.

Why? We’re supposed to be the richest, most advanced country on the planet- why do we settle for this? Why are we okay with our own people literally begging for money to cover medical expenses? These people are begging for their lives.

As my husband points out- we already wait for months for care in a lot of cases. We settle for the cheapest, closest clinics we can find when we get sick, because then at least we will be seen- the wait for a General Practitioner if you can find one accepting patients and if they are within your network is months long here in New Mexico.

And we’re among the lucky ones.

Does that sound like a people committed to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness to you? Yeah, me neither.

We can’t change people’s prejudices overnight, it’ll take generations of teaching and reinforcement for equality for genders and races. I don’t honestly believe we’ll ever destroy the class barriers- but this health care thing? This we can and should do.

Part of what galls me is that the people who are profiting off the system as it exists claim to love our country and our people like no one else can. They are going to say a lot of scary things to try and turn us against considering health care a right. They are going to call it socialism and communism, and encourage you to feel like it’s okay to push someone else down so you can feel like you’re doing well in life.

But remember this- even if you’re among the lucky ones, all it takes is for one heart attack, one stroke, one accident, one tumor to change everything for you. Closing the door on thinking about it doesn’t safeguard you.

Don’t you want that security of knowing that if something terrible that medicine can help or cure does happen to you, that you can get the care you need? And don’t you want that not just for yourself, but for everyone that lives here?

There was a time when we achieved great things, wrought great changes, and led the way for the rest of the world- can you imagine what we could do if we didn’t have over half of our population struggling with what’s going to happen if they get sick or trying to help someone in their world that is sick? If we all knew that when the worst comes, we will receive the best possible care without question?

I can, and I think it’s something worth fighting for. I think it’s feasible, when you consider all the inefficiency and redundancy that exists in the system we have today. To have that peace of mind, I’m fine with paying more in taxes, even if it equates to more than what I pay in the name of health care in general today.

I also recognize, and respect, that your mileage may vary. The whole reason I’m writing this, though, is not just to entertain myself- I’m hoping that if you’ve followed me this far, that you’re willing to examine your own thoughts and feelings. Whether we agree or not, I think it’s important to take your convictions for a walk every now and again, air them out, see if you still really feel the same way.

Cause only mushrooms grow really well in the dark.

Actual Conversation at Casa de Wellman- Not enough Mucinex edition

Thanks to Last Week Tonight being back on HBO, I had to renew the subscription. While tooling along, looking for something to watch, we spotted Daniel Sloss.. and said GREAT.. we love him and he’s kinda fitting our mood of slightly twisted.

The following ensued-

Rick- you know, the more I watch this guy, the more I think he looks like the twins.

Me- Mmm, kind of I guess. I think of him more as a Scottish Macaulay Culkin, myself.

Rick- Yeah.. but he looks more like Josh to me.

Me- dafuq? THE TWINS ARE IDENTICAL WHAT THE SHIT MAN.

Rick- laughs and coughs and turns an alarming shade of beet red with the laughing and coughing and not being able to stop.

Me- IS IT WORTH IT?!

Rick- /wheezing, Yes, totally worth it.

Me- I’m posting this, you know.

Rick- wheezes and laughs some more as I fetch him more Mucinex.

 

They say as long as you can laugh, you know you’re gonna be okay.

 

Actual Conversation at Casa de Wellman- The 36 Questions and my love for a certain subreddit

I think if you’ve been a reader for any length of time, you are likely already aware that I am a creature of many bad, bad habits.

One of those habits is frequenting the subreddit ‘Am I the Asshole?’ The idea is that people experiencing interpersonal conflicts write out their side of the axe they are a grindin’, and the commenting population says one of a few things- You Are the Asshole, You’re Not the Asshole (and someone else is), No Assholes Here, or Everybody Sucks Here.

I. Love. This.

My little judgy heart goes pitty pat as I read and make my determination. Sometimes I support my views with thoughtful, considered feedback, and other times I decide to be the Gollum commenter and say ‘Not it’s business, preciouses.’ Either way, it’s a pretty good fuckin time as far as I’m concerned.

So on Sunday, Rick and I were enjoying a well earned afternoon of mellow, talking over what we want to do with the kitchen remodel we’ve been considering. This includes pricing different pieces and watching YouTube videos to decide how hard something is going to be, then pondering over how long my kitchen would be out of order while we figured this shit out.

 

Rick- Why the hell do the cabinets have to be black?

Me- Cause it’s me. This is not going to be a Suzy Homemaker cow and gingham fuckin sunflower kitchen. It’s MY kitchen. Black with Star Wars wallpaper. It’ll be fabulous.

Rick- /nods mostly not doubtfully- So you want to go price it out professionally?

Me- Sure, let’s rip off the band aid and see how bad it is before we decide whether we should attempt this ourselves.

 

Off we go- and on the way, I pull up my favorite subreddit (not like I was driving or anything, after all), and read AITA for trying to do the 36 questions with my girlfriend, now she’s pissed off and not talking to me.

This was too interesting not to share, so I read it to Rick.

Rick- /snort- his own damn fault, everyone knows you don’t do that shit.

Me- Orly?

And that’s how we started the 36 questions. Maybe I like to tempt fate, or torture Rick.. or whatever.

I’m not going to lie, some of the questions are real groaners. But we did find out some interesting stuff. Neither one of us wants to be famous, cause we like life the way it is. While I’m pretty sure that we weren’t supposed to answer the ‘what’s one quality or ability you’d want to wake up with tomorrow’ with FUCKING DUH I WANNA BE A MOTHERFUCKIN JEDI, well, that answer won’t surprise anyone that knows us.

We also found out just how much value we put in each other, and how different our lives are from where we started. How much more we’ve each become from having that support, that will to jump over the edge together cause we’ve got someone’s hand to hold as we fall.

Or fly.

As for the remodel? We got to the Local Hardware Superstore with our sheaf of sketches and careful measurements only to find the kitchen remodeling section was closed for remodeling.

Isn’t it ironic, doncha think?

 

 

Actual Conversation at Casa de Wellman- bucket list edition

Rick and I are rewatching The Ranch before the new season drops in a weekish (don’t judge, it’s funny and reminds me of where I grew up, and yes, Sam Elliot makes my heart go pitty pat), and they started talking about bucket lists.

Me- You know, we prolly ought to talk about making a bucket list.

Rick- /thinks a minute- Yeah, to finish all the video games I got.

Me- Shit, if you could put Death on hold for that, we’d be fuckin immortal.

 

Steam library- 206 games and counting. Oy.

Actual conversation at Casa de Wellman- The Word That Shall Not Be Spoken for today

So, funny story.

Whenever we get a delivery, I got into the habit of luring the pups into the bedroom and closing the door to avoid the poor deliveryperson dealing with the bark fest.

For the longest time, this required treats (which, incidentally is another word that shall not be spoken at Casa de Wellman). Now, though, as soon as I say lockup, they fly down the hall, excited for their impending incarceration.

Tonight, we were watching Letterkenny, and I said something stupid.

Me- Looks like Squirrely Dan is finally getting a hookup.

Bree- perks, bounces off my lap and stares at me expectantly

Me and Rick–uh… Whut?

Me- what did I say? Hook up?

Bree, Zoe, and Jaina- ecstatic barks and borks and squeaks

Me- oh God.

Rick- What?

Me- they think I’m saying lockup

Bree, Zoe, and Jaina- even more racket, now accompanied by tippy taps and jumping

Rick- helpless laughter

Me- so I guess I will like.. Lock them up now? Cause they expect it?

So I am writing this with my goofy pups locked up cause Squirrely Dan might get a hook up.

Pitter Patter.

Random Ramble- Living with a Corg and actual conversation at Casa de Wellman

Recently, Rick and I took one of our little jaunts to go be other people/maybe dragons for awhile (it’s called Dragon Thrones, it’s amazing, every gamer type should go at least once), and while we enjoy our time away, there is someone who does not.

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Not talking to you, mahm.

This is the same little critter that typically is no more than six feet away from me. In the mornings, she nudges, licks, strategically stands (you think she’s not heavy til she puts all her weight on  your ribs and bounces), and generally pesters Rick until he vacates her (his?) pillow so we can lay nose to nose and ponder this business of sleeping in. While I’m at my desk, she’s got her bed under it, plus a rug to sploot out on if the bed gets too confining.

Yeah, she’s spoiled, we’re all aware.

So when I go away for a few days, I look forward to her ecstatic greetings when I get home. Mahm coming home is usually a big deal- inspections to shins and shoes, a knuckle nibble, and happy waggles are what I’m used to.

And, to be fair, I got that for about thirty seconds when we got in very late Monday night.

Then… it’s like she remembered she was mad. She went to get her treats from Rick, and I became invisible.

And it went on like that for days. If she even looked at me, it was with betrayal. There was no more couch cuddles, no climbing in mahm’s lap, no fetching of the toys to play with. Bree wouldn’t come if I called her, and made it clear I was NOT allowed to pet.

But Rick was allowed to pet- he was forgiven almost immediately. :/

 

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No, don’t wanna play with evil deserting traitors like YOU, mahm.

I tried everything… I fetched treats, I laid on the couch all lonesome, I called and waved toys around temptingly.. nothing worked. She just curled up at the far end of the couch, pointedly ignoring me.

It is worth noting that she’d still curl up next to me at night- but no pets.

Four days of this, and then, last night as I was working out, I tried dragging my hand across the floor for her to stalk and attack. Apparently my time of punishment had passed, or giving her the ability to vent her feelings on my poor defenseless hand helped her work out the last of her annoyance with me.

After dinner, she climbed into my lap for head rubbies, and everything was okay again.

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Hey mahm, now that we’re friends again, where did the rest of that pizza go?

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On one of our flights, there was a couple who had their own pup with them, and we kind of thought of what it would be like to take Bree along on one of our trips.

Rick- They were so happy the dog got his own seat. I don’t think Bree would be happy if we put her under the seat in front of us.

Me- We could buy her her own seat. /ponder But she wouldn’t be happy unless she was in First Class.

 

We laugh… but I think it’s true. Can you imagine that stink eye for having to sit in /gasp coach?

Random Flashback-This is my day job.

So… since I saw the Patrick Stewart doing cowboy songs commercial, I’ve had Rawhide stuck in my head.

Today I put it to good(?) use, and the next time someone asks me what I do, I’m going to break out into song like a Disney freakin princess:

Rollin rollin rollin
Rollin rollin rollin
Rollin rollin rollin
Rollin rollin rollin
Rawhide, rawhide!

We rollin rollin rollin
Input we extollin
Keep them outputs rollin, rawhide

Through SharePoint betrayals
And SQL server fails
Wishin some merlot was by my side

Lunch I am a’ missin
Starbucks I will be sippin
All waitin once Excel gives up the fight

Pull ‘em down, control ‘n c
Contol ‘n v, save ‘em up
Check it out, post it up
Rawhide!

Let ‘em know, show ‘em where
Get their thoughts, put it there
Write the steps, make ‘em clear
Rawhide!

Keep movin movin movin
Though the pace is bruising
Keep them outputs movin, rawhide

Be warm and understandin
Soon more they’ll be demandin
That’s job security by your side…

Dinner’s on the table
The wine’s got a label
All waitin as I tell my team goodbye

Pull ‘em down, control ‘n c
Contol ‘n v, save ‘em up
Check it out, post it up
Rawhide!

Let ‘em know, show ‘em where
Get their thoughts, put it there
Write the steps, make ‘em clear
Rawhide!

Rollin rollin rollin
Rollin rollin rollin
Rollin rollin rollin
Rollin rollin rollin
Rawhide, rawhide!

You’re welcome. Now watch, no one will ever again ask what I do.

Somethin tells me I’m into somethin good. Updated 12.12

Once upon a time, in the long ago days of Cobain and flannel, there was a girl who wanted to be just a girl, even though she was anything but. It was so important to Alanna to have a life outside of her parents’ realm of influence that she did a thing that she had never done before. A thing that, within recorded history, no one had ever done before.

 

She threatened them with premature abdication.

 

Other girls may have whined or begged to be allowed to explore the world. There could have been tears and tantrums and relatively straight forward rebellion vis a vis running away.

 

Maybe the method that Alanna used showed just how different she really was, beyond the obvious.

 

She waited until her mother and father were holding a joint festival at which all of their courts were in full attendance, and submitted a petition just as a peer of the realm would.

 

It read as thus-

 

“I, Alanna, having obtained the age of my Majority and full breadth and Acceptable Control of my Abilities do hereby Petition Your August, Wise, and Ever Indulgently Benevolent Majesties, Oberon and Titania, that I be permitted to seek Higher Education within the realm of the thintos until such a time as I am required to resume my Duties as your Adoring Heir Apparent or there is an end to the Knowledge to be Gained for the Benefit of Our People. I will accept Necessary Guardians as you, in your Abundant Graciousness and Wisdom deem fit to secure my Person, Within Reason.

 

“Refusal to accede to this Most Reasonable Request will be met with Complete and Utter Severing of Familial Bonds, at which point I will consider all Obligations to Your Majesties to be Null and Void.”

 

This was met, of course, with an immediate gust of a wind of whispers through the court. For her part, Queen Titania’s guise added to the sudden squall in the great hall, with a thunderous look on her brow.

 

King Oberon merely leaned back in her chair, his eyes cast upwards at the stars as though probing mysteries unknowable, and sighed in such a thoughtful way that all the courts fell still for a long, long moment.

 

“You’re certain about this?” he asked, without shifting his gaze.

 

Alanna raised her chin. “I am, sir.”

 

Only then did the king glance as his lady wife. In the way that long married couples do, they came to a conclusion in that once glance.

 

And that, more or less, is how Alanna came into the world as we know it.

 

The sun was just rising when the extremely unwelcome chimes began. Alanna stuffed her head under the pillow, wishing for the thousandth time that her mother didn’t have a sick, sadistic sense of humor.

 

Fae come in all shapes and sizes- the guardian her mother had selected believed herself to be an Absolute Authority on the mortal world. To be fair, when you consider the candidates Queen Titania had to select from (few) and those that were willing to spend what she ascertained to be an acceptable amount of time exiled from their natural habitat (fewer), and those that could be trusted not to generally cause mayhem and mischief (one), she’d done the best with what she had.

 

Unfortunately for Alanna, the best she had was Galinda the Good Witch. To be clear, she wasn’t actually a witch, she was very definitely a faerie operating under the delusion that Alanna needed a personal body servant. Also unfortunately for Alanna, Galinda had adopted the classic Wizard of Oz concept of a Good Witch. 

 

This meant a dress that didn’t really fit into the tiny dorm room, a crown that was inevitably knocked off Galinda’s head by inconvenient human contrivances like doorways and light fixtures, a long wand she insisted on waving about as though it were a sword, and… those damned tinkling, chiming bells following her everywhere.

 

“Up, up, up!” Galinda pealed in her saccharine, chirpy voice. “Your Highness, you must rise and greet the beauteous day in this squalid slum you’ve chosen to sequester yourself in away from all polite society and comfort!”

 

Debating several potential appropriate replies ranging from relocating Galinda’s mouth to the bottom of the nearest occupied toilet bowl to opening a dimensional portal to Hell, Alanna blinked and reoriented herself before speaking.

 

“Galinda, didn’t we talk about the calendar?” she asked mildly.

 

One of the problems with claiming to be an Absolute Authority when you may not be is that you will be hit with questions that require you to tap dance a bit.

 

“Yes, it’s hanging over there on the wall!” Galinda thrust her wand at it like a rapier, knocking the lamp off the desk.

“I’m so glad you located it,” Alanna said, voice devoid of all expression. “Might you be so kind as to read it please?”

 

With a great rustle, Galinda picked up her skirts and glided the step and a half to the wall majestically. “Auuuuuuugh. Ust!” she said triumphantly before peering back at the bed, where the occupant yet resided. 

 

“Fantastic. Keep going. Don’t stop til you get to today.”

 

“Well, that’s just silly, Your Highness, you already know it’s,” and Galinda leaned in to the calendar nearsightedly, “Fa… fa… Faerieday the Seventh!”

 

There was a faint pop in the air just above Galinda’s head. “You beglittered bint, it’s Sunday the Ninth, and Her Highness, in her most Polite and Benedictous Way is informing you that it’s her Day Off.”

 

The newcomer floated lazily on his back midair, his thin pale face all a’smirk at Galinda’s discomfiture as he bit into an apple. “Good morrow, Your Most Lovely Highness.” 

 

“Good morning, Puck.”

 

It must be said that Oberon’s choice of guardian for his daughter was more familiar with the ways and means of mortals than his counterpart, but as far as Alanna was concerned, that was something of a mixed blessing. Slight, endlessly charming, and having perfected the art of presenting an innocence countenance when events just happened to go very wrong, though always for someone else, Puck had been Oberon’s favored page for… well, a very long time. 

 

However, because he was Oberon’s favorite servant for interactions outside his realm, for all his lazing insouciance, Puck was a busy guy. 

 

That was the first upside.

 

Harumphing as she lifted the pillow from Alanna’s head, Galinda made a move to open the window, causing her to bolt upright. “NO! We talked about this! No way, no how, don’t you bloody dare do that!” The witch completely ignored her as she swung her wand at the panes, shattering two. “Puck! STOP HER!”

 

The sprite reached into his jacket pocket and, arming himself, placed his feet lightly the floor. “Madam! Thou hast gone too far and angered my Lady Princess!” He dashed a black glove smartly across Galinda’s thunderstruck face. “Thou stands challenged, base wench! I demand satisfaction!” 

 

And then, Puck ignited his weapon of choice, which happened to be a purple lightsaber. “Jedi motherfucker, do you speak it?!”

 

Alanna took advantage of Galinda’s temporary state of complete confusion to snatch back her pillow and bury her head back under it while the duel concluded. Once all was resolved, the issue of the witch opening the window was moot as she had been literally disarmed. There was also the small matter of the destruction of the light fixture, deep gouges and scorch marks in the walls, the footboard being sliced in half, and there was something going on with Galinda’s hair. It was… melted.

 

Taking a deep breath, Alanna resumed her original featureless voice. “So, thank you, Puck. Galinda, we talked about this. I completely understand your point of view about appropriate bathing and dressing of a princess. I am also the ranking member of the court present, and as such I utterly reject being dressed and shat upon by birds and mice in order to suit your concept of what befits my title. Any further attempt to facilitate this yet again will result in the same indignities and discomfort you are currently experiencing.” She paused. “Is that clear?”

 

Sulking, Galinda attempted to curtsy, failed, and finally muttered, “Yes, Your Highness.”

 

“Very good,” Alanna said. “Now, I find your attire to be slovenly and your visage unsightly. Pray remedy this and do not return until you are fit to be seen.”

 

Galinda disappeared with a sullen pop, which caused a chunk of plaster to fall from the ceiling.

 

Alanna sighed and got out of bed. Fetching a broom and dustpan, she began to clean up the mess.

 

“Not that I get to criticize anyone, and certainly not a member of the blood royal,” Puck began as he resumed his floating Lazyboy sprawl midair.

 

“To their faces, no,” Alanna said.

 

“And what better way to get zotted than to be indiscreet? Appearances may be deceiving, but I am not a complete idiot.” Puck sniffed, then motioned to the room as he went back to eating his apple, recalled from the ether. “Why are you doing this?”

 

“Cleaning the room? Because I have guardians of limited scope that can’t seem to find a way to solve problems without creating chaos and disaster in their wake.” She gave him a pointed look as she tipped a full dustpan into her trash can.

 

Puck rolled his eyes and snapped his fingers, instantly returning the room to its original state, and Alanna was dressed with her hair brushed and wearing the clothes that she’d hung on the back of the closet door for the day. “There? Better?”

 

Alanna stomped her foot at him. “No, Puck, that’s not better. That’s the exact problem!”

 

He finished his apple and studied the core briefly before flinging it over his shoulder into the can. “I don’t see a problem. The bad witch is gone, the room has been returned to its former poky, undersized, unstylish state, and you’re ready to enjoy your Day Off.” Looking over his shoulder, Puck found her expression alarming enough to ask nervously, “You’re not going to zot me, right? I mean, it’s absolutely your prerogative to zot me if I have given offense, or if it entertains you, or if it would entertain someone else, but I’d really rather you didn’t. I just ate, and having the apple baked while it’s inside me just ruins my whole breakfast.”