The War Against Touchscreens

That’s right. Because when you are a total klutz who happens to annihilate any and every electromagnetic field you come into contact with in this day and age, life becomes difficult. I won’t go into my trials and tribulations with the DROID because frankly, if you know me at all, you know that me and cell phones are like oil and fire. And while my father did give me his old iPad a while back, I seldom use it because I 1) like having a keyboard, 2) struggle with wifi, and 3) have dark allegiances to my Kindle.

the-ten-commandments-movie-clip-screenshot-laws-of-god_largeTablets are for reading, and proclaiming from mountaintops in this house.

No, my most recent misadventure is with my elderly iPod, the square gem that I used to wear on my wrist (before that was even a thing, thank you very much), which I managed to shatter a few months ago. Since that mishap, I have tried getting the glass replaced, which Apple wanted to charge me $100 bucks for (ehrm, no), and then tried to put one of those plastic protector sheets on, which doesn’t work at all. So I was limping along until recently, when the square of power decided that it would no longer read my swipes.

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Hence, my hatred of touchscreens.

I am not that backwater. I know that touchscreens are “the future” if it isn’t here already. I saw Minority Report. And we all know the end to that tragic story now don’t we? You know what I am talking about, Mr. Cruise. Don’t lie. But what I wouldn’t do for a physical button on the damned machine that is supposed to make my life easier, a way to scroll between terrible drag queen music and my obsession with the Welcome to Night Vale podcast. But no. Today, the iPod and I came to a crossroads.

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Just like that Bone Thugs song, without the rapping. Or the background music.

I tried, and tried, and tried again to make the damned thing work. I had my coworker (who has much daintier fingers) try to change the menu from radio to music, or to at least to select a song. No dice. So now, I have two iPods that don’t really function and no desire to fork over a Benji to get one that works, let alone buy an older model (again, to move away from the blasphemous touchscreen of doom) that would make my life easier. At this point, it’s either biting the bullet and buying another one or digging out my old Discman.

discman2Oh, the good old days.

Yes, things could be worse, and there’s always NPR, but I am slowly coming to the end of my digital rope. Unless these new-fangled technology gadgets move back a bit, I’m going to end up with an actual dial on my radio, an AM/FM cassette player and a telephone that permanently plugs into a wall. The tragedy of progress. Until next time, stay classy (and live for nostalgia) Salt Lake.

Blood Moon

After another few days away from the BLERG and my 33rd birthday, I knew it was time to get back into the writing ring. And while listening to one of the most painful radio debates of 2014 (seriously, who could make Jason Chaffetz sound like a decent human being), I decided that instead of focusing on the negative, or the obviously positive (aka SCOTUS) that I would instead let everyone know that the sprig of inspiration for my next novel NaNoWriMo escapade has been percolating in my mind for a bit.

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And it will be epic.

While the Vassar Murders is still in the editing stages (I know, I know, just publish the damned thing and get on with it), I am ready and rearing to start the next trashy novel. I had originally thought about doing a sequel, but I thought that trying to work on a sequel while still not having gotten the first book officially off of the ground was déclassé. So instead, I think I might focus instead on something in a similar vein but on a different topic. And I think it will be called BLOOD MOON.

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Still trash. Still horror. But not college.

So instead I will focus my efforts on another sort of murder-mystery/thriller type of book, something maybe supernatural, maybe not. Lots of plot twists, probably a lot of dirty scenes (I mean, let’s be honest, it sells), and definitely not a “feel good” read. More of a guilty pleasure. But beyond that, I don’t want to ruin the surprise, now do I? Will it involve a strong female lead this time? Probably. Will it involve zombies or vampires? Kind of doubt it. I feel like it’s been done to death. Unless you count Resident Evil.

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Because I am LIVING for the sequel.

So while I’ll be busting tail at work and after work on a bunch of writing assignments, and trying to squeeze in more volunteering before it gets too cold, I am cautiously optimistic that come November, I will have the time and the brain power to churn out another book, and then hopefully take that energy (and the two manuscripts) and finally, finally get something published in something other than a scientific text or on the interwebs.

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Not that I would forsake the BLERG. For shame.

Until next time, stay classy (and tuned in for some plot twists) Salt Lake.

It’s the Most Wonderful Time of the Year

And no, it’s not just because it just so happens to be the month that my birthday falls into, as most of you know that I tend to try to avoid or skip my birthday in the ongoing quest to beat the sands of time as they march across my face. No, October has always been one of my favorite times because the seasons have <finally> changed to be somewhat predictable, the leaves are legit turning, and I get to hear allllll about how f-ing wonderful pumpkin spice is.

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If it’s so great, why not eat/drink/smell it all the time?!

The other main reason I love October is because it’s the quintessential horror movie time of year. And after an old buddy gave me a run for my money on the FB with an inadvertent trivia question about the Halloween franchise (yes, I have seen all of them, yes, even Halloween III which didn’t even have Michael in it), I have been happily reminded that this is the month that I do my best to scare the ever-living bejesus out of myself while clutching couch pillows and yelling at my television.

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Nonononono. Don’t. Don’t…. GET OUT OF THE HOUSE!

So I am not going to lie, I am looking forward to this month. My big sister will be five years older than I am for about 36 hours; my parents are coming into town to visit; and I have a bunch of big projects to work on that I am actually not dreading. Between that and <maybe> finally painting the wall in the living room, it ought to be a good transition into the fall. Which is the best season, even if it does only last like three weeks in Utah before it starts snowing.

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This is my gayborhood. In November.

So do yourselves a favor. Find a good old slasher flick, pop up some popcorn, and snuggle up on the couch, either solo with a warm blanket or with the lady/gent of your choice and get ready to scream a bit. The weather is getting on the chilly side; continue that chill down your spine. A healthy dose of fear on your own terms will do you a world of good.

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How could you not trust this?

Until next time, stay classy (and frightened, just a bit) Salt Lake.