It's the little things strapped to an electric chair...

It's not that I've been away; I've just been away.

Make of that what you will.

So, it's mumblemumble days to Halloween, and I have not begun to panic.  This is either really good or a very big case of denial.

The truth of the matter is since Mom has been here to help me with a lot of things around the house and around my life, I am finding the current of creativity flowing again.  I have all these ideas and none of them seem out-of-reach.  I'm looking at building plans for animatronics and LEDs and thinking, "I can do that."  

I don't think it's just Mom, though.  The other day we were in the Halloween Express store that pops up every year.  Last year, I was rather disappointed in their selection and only went twice during the entire season.  (To those who know me, they know how my doing that is a reason to check to see if I'm ill.  Normally, I go every other day.  Don't look at me like that.  Their stock changes, dammit.)

It just so happens that they opened up while Mom is visiting, so it was time to prove that I come by my twisted inclinations honestly.  (Everything I loved, she loved.  I love my mom.)

While not as impressed as I have been in the past, I have found some real gems in their collection this year.  The number one on the "I would give my ex-husband's left nut for that prop" list was Jolt.  Jolt is probably the biggest and best prop I've ever seen them carry.  They say they had him last year, but they must've put him out after I quit shopping.

This, my ghouls, is Jolt:

The video, of course, doesn't do him justice.

Turns out that he is a serious piece of work.  He actually comes with four bags of cement with which to anchor him because he shakes so violently.

My little geek, haunter girl's heart bleeds for shit like this.

The first day we went to the store, they had him out but not working.  Damn.  But, we were promised he would be working the next day.  Hooray!

So, the next day we returned.

He only works twice an hour and we had fifteen minutes to wait.  Boooo.  (We found out later that apparently they have to do that since last year his head flew off.  I'm not sure you should tell people that about a prop you are trying to sell for $2200.)

We convinced some bored employees to run him for us.

He. Is. Spectacular.

I want him.  Not in that special squishy kind of way that's just icky and you people need to get your brains out of the gutter, but I want him nonetheless.

Funnily, we were standing with an African-American family and a few others, and we got to talking with the family as a member missed the show and we were trying to convince them to do it again.  (When told that the head flew off last year, the mom declared it would be awesome as hell if that happened.  *sniffle sniffle*  It's beautiful to find such like-minded souls.)  I was explaining to them what Jolt was and about how he has to be anchored in cement and how much he was and where they could go to find videos of him...

The general consensus was that I knew my shit about Halloween.  Especially after I told them I build some of my own props.

A few minutes later, the real time for Jolt to go off happened, and we gathered people to watch.  After the show, I was giggling and shouting about how badly I want him.  The dad of the family declared that I obviously had this shit down and figured I could probably build him.  I told him no since I only just recently started experimenting with animatronics, but...um...actually...I know engineers who probably could...

When all was said and done a few things happened:

1. We discovered that my mother actually helped treat their grandmother ailing of cancer when she worked at the oncology clinic five years ago, and she remembered her after they said her name.
2. I told them I put out a display for the kids every year for trick-or-treat, and they demanded where I lived so they could bring their kids seeing as how they didn't know any decent neighborhoods for that sort of thing.  (I informed them that people outside our neighborhood bring their kids, and our Little Old Lady Brigade  loves it to bits.  Also, apparently I won't be the only display.  Woot!)
3. I was made to feel very good for being so enthusiastic about Halloween, which is a rare thing.
4. I bought a crawling hand animatronic that is way more awesome than $25 should allow.

Talking with that family and seeing others share my enthusiasm for this holiday really awoke the creativity in my soul.  I went out and bought the stuff to make a bleeding skull fountain (pics to follow); I got some amazing ideas involving LEDs, a black light, and an oscillating fan or two; and I feel like I can build anything.

While I know I'm limited with my ability, I have this sudden drive to learn everything I can.  I want to reach the limit of my potential with props.  I want to make this holiday come alive for my visitors and scare the living hell out of them!

I am back with a vengeance.

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Also, I bought a vampire dog that we thought was the product of a cat's strange liaison with a rat.  Apparently, his name is Russell after a worker's ex-husband.  Oh, the plans I have.  The plans...

P.S. No, seriously, I know people who could build him.  It's both awesome and scary.  I'm glad they use their talents for not destroying the earth and just blowing up random things when they get bored.

In which I put two and two together and want to throw up

You know that feeling where you finally figure something out and you feel like a damn idiot for not seeing it sooner?  You know how that is immediately followed by an intense desire to kick your own ass for about a week?

Yeah, welcome to my world.

So, I've been unemployed since May, and I've sent about forty-five resumes out, filled out countless online applications, and put my information out on careerbuilders.com and chilijobs.com.  (Monster has gotten damn near unweildly with its new design.)  And, yet, I've gotten only a handful of hits.  It's been driving me nuts.  I've never gone this long without a job, and I could not for the life of me figure out what I was doing wrong.  Now, granted, before, most of my jobs came to me through temp agencies, but honestly, those have really lower their standards here lately.  I'm registered with at least four of them.  I've had two call, and then had zero response from them when it comes to phone or email.  I've pretty much given up on the agencies.  (I applied at one more today.  Last chance for them to prove to me they haven't all gone down the toilet.)

Still, with all this, I'm getting nothing but those lousy insurance sales jobs contacting me.  (One was a guy with a thick Indian accent named "Steve".  Seriously, you fool no one.)  Now, desperate as I am, I am no salesperson.  I don't like pushy sales people shoving products down my throat, so it's nearly impossible for me to do the same.  I simply couldn't live with myself.  Despite that, where are the legit job offers?  I know the economy has reached a level of suckage usually reserved for black holes, but there are jobs.  I mean, see the above paragraph at the amount of work I've spent putting in for them.  Granted, the competition is fierce, but surely something should've panned out by now, right?

It's been incredibly frustrating and amazingly depressing.  I am starting to consider many things like fast food and selling an organ.  (I actually looked into selling my eggs, I kid you not.  I'm too old.)  Something has to give.

Well, taking some advice from my mom (Hi, Mom!), I started following up on a few places that offer ways to earn money working from home like odesk.com and elance.com.  I've actually been stuck on odesk.com ever since trying to get my profile filled out and do all the things they say I should do to increase my chances of getting projects.  It might not be much, but it might mean a few bucks coming in, which is better than nothing.

I, also, started checking out Tory Johnson's site from "Good Morning America" for tips and tricks to get noticed.  It was while reading how to tweak a resume that an epiphany walked in and smacked me around for about an hour: what if my resume sucks?

I went back and read it again.  And, again.  And, again.  I found three errors that made me want to walk into five o'clock traffic.  That's when it really started to hit home that, yes, Virginia, my resume really isn't that good.

As that feeling of doom sunk in, before my brain truly noticed and forced me to crawl under my bed and cry, I started looking into professional resume writers.  (Career Builders can kiss my ass with that $230 price tag.)  I found one that got good reviews and didn't charge overly much, so I hired them.  (An investment that will pay for itself it they can give me a resume that lands me a job.)

The first thing they did was send me a questionnaire that basically is a means to gather as much information about my employment history and skills as possible.  Under work history, they basically ask you to describe your work day, which seems strange but as I filled it out I realized that I did a lot more than I was giving myself credit for on my own resume.  It took me two hours to fill it all out.  By the time I got to the question about what I felt was wrong with my resume, I didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

I had to admit it to myself.  I write a lousy resume.

I laughed about it with Mom, but in truth, I've spent the last few hours wanting to brain myself with a hammer for not figuring this shit out sooner.  Yeah, it's true that it's better than not figuring it out at all or figuring it out when it's much too late.  I still have time to salvage this, but, still, this could've saved me a lot of time and effort if I had seen this two months ago.

Yay for slap-yourself-on-the-forehead moments!

So, with fingers crossed, prayers being said, and held breath, I wait to see what they send me back.  Maybe it will help.  It sure as hell won't hurt.

Until then, anyone in the market for a kidney?

__________________

I've even considered the phone sex industry.  Oh, sure, I would have to pretend to be turned on by a guy who wants to be spanked with a houseplant, but hey, if it's steady pay...

More on "Insidious"

BWAHAHAHAHA *snort* BWAHAHAHAHAHA!


Firstly, "Poltergeist" did it better.

Secondly, bump-in-the-night scares are the best ever.  They can never be topped.  However, if you mix your bump-in-the-night scares that have so much amazing potential with a really bad script idea, then what you get is something so silly that I am glad I didn't see it in the theater because I would've laughed my ass off.

There were things that reminded me of "Silent Hill" in this film, which is strange.  Either way, "Silent Hill" is way creepier, and that is sad because it wasn't really that good since it relied on game fandom and gore.

Real scare is the kind of thing that makes your brain curl in on itself because it's too afraid to tell you why it's afraid.

I have found films that do that.

This is not one of them.

I mean, seriously, the acting is atrocious. (Barbara Hershey, you used to be better than this.)  The writing is bland, contrived, and downright ridiculous.  (The Further?  Really?)  Let me tell you, if you want to introduce a shadow at a window, don't make it obvious.  It's the background movement that catches us off-guard that disarms us.  Everything that was meant to creep out the audience was about as scary as a 50s b-movie.

Also, your main bad guy?  Yeah, that's some sad shit right there.  

They should've hired this guy.  He is far scarier.

Boo

You want scary?  Have that shadow follow.  Have it swallow.  Have it form in weird ways and disappear.  Have that photo have something...different...but not really strange.  They show too much too quickly without giving the audience time to be afraid.

Basically, what I'm saying is they tried too damn hard.

Also, one of the guys who committed this to film did "Saw".  Dude, that was creepy in its own right.  This?  This is an insult to the intelligence that created "Saw".  (And, let me tell you, it takes some real talent to insult your own intelligence.)

And, if you think I'm just cynical because of my 80s gore background, I also love and find shivers in "Nosferatu" and "Phantom of the Opera" (Lon Chaney, not the other crap) and "Psycho".  

Shivers happen when you tap into that primal fear of the unknown, the paranormal.  This movie tried, and it failed.  Mainly because it tried too damn hard.  The people behind this film know better, and that makes it even more disappointing.  Yes, most of their films are gory, but they were also that fuck-with-your-inner-fear suspenseful.  Apparently, they forgot that with this film.

And, don't get me started on the whole "You've always been stronger than me" bit from the wife. 

I will keep it because I find it funny.
 
And, I will pray that they will never make a second one even if the ending guarantees they will.

The bastards.

2 out of 5 Kumquats

(Also, Rotten Tomatoes, I am very disappointed in you.  67% fresh for this pile of tripe?  I want you to go to your room and not come out until you remember what good film-making is.)








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Maybe in the fifties this might have been scary.  Maybe.  Right now, all I know is the timing in this film is completely off.   Horror is like sex, you have to have some foreplay, and, apparently, the guys making this film have no fucking idea...I'm just sayin'.

Initial reaction to "Insidious"

BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!






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I am not desensitized by gore.  I love me some bump-in-the-night.  But, let me tell you, Americans have apparently lost touch with that whole thing.  This?  This was just silly.  I'm still watching it.  More later.

Movies: the only reason to even own a television anymore

I have a desire.

It is an intense desire.

Whenever I think about it, I get all tingly in my girly places.

I want a theater room.


Ooooh...tingly...


I first realized how badly I wanted one when I watched an episode of "Man Caves".  This particular episode involved the "makeover" crew creating a theater room in this family's basement.  I drooled.  A lot.  It was supposed to be His Room.  No wife allowed.  I'm guessing if he felt the need to build such a space then he had a reason.  His wife was probably like my mother who can't sit still at all during a movie.  Half the time we don't even know for sure she knows what's going on.  It can be annoying to the other movie watchers.  Either way, all I could say was, "Fuck that on a piece of toast!  That room would be mine!"  I would have to go all "Mission: Impossible" on that.

Ever since then, I have obsessed over having a movie room.

The original plan was to turn the sun room into a theater room.  I intend to go through with that plan although it depends on surmounting a lot of current hurdles, which could put the actual date of completion around three days before my 115th birthday.  But, hey, we all have goals.

One of the many reasons I want a home theater is that I really don't like the actual movie experience these days.  It has improved what with our local Rave theater cracking down on stupid kids in movies they have no business being in, having patrolling ushers, and actually following through on their threats, but it's so damn expensive to go to the theater these days.  I used to go to the movies probably several times a month.  Nowadays, I choose maybe five or six movies a year usually opting to wait until they come out on Blu-Ray.  There is always one asshole who can't leave his damn phone alone, and it's just not worth it for $10 a ticket.

(The only real reason to go to the theater is to experience those few movies that actually benefit from 3D.  Other than that, I can make my own popcorn, thank you.)

Still, I love movies.  A friend and I have said for years we should write a movie review blog.

Don't roll your damn eyes at me in that tone of voice!  We like horror and silents and classics and fantasy and things the explode!  Okay, sure, we would let our girly show sometimes, but you can suck it up because you can rest assured no Sandra Bullock would cross our blog unless she was trussed up in chains, tar, and feathers!  (If you pull out rule 34, I will wish fiery death upon you.)

Anyway, I still try to keep up with what's coming out.  My usual haunt is Apple Trailers since I can watch the trailers in HD.  Rotten Tomatoes is another one I like to wander through, and they have the distinction of my trust when it comes to reviews.  (Rule of thumb for me is if it's at least 45% fresh, then there's a good chance I'll find something to like.  Anything below that and I'll be drilling holes in the sides of my head to remove the memories.)

So, why am I posting all this as if you give a shit?  Well, because I have just discovered a movie that I can't believe a freakin' missed, and you will be hearing about it.  

Insidious

Nothing makes me happier than a good old fashioned bump-in-the-night, shivers-in-the-spine, brain-shuddering horror film, and this one has some serious potential.

I will report back once I've witnessed it.

I'm hoping it will be added to my arsenal of movies to prepare me for the coming Halloween season.

And, I refuse to look at the countdown in my sidebar...




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Speaking of Apple Trailers, what the hell is with Google Chrome?  Everytime I try to download a trailer, it gives me shrieks and hides under the desk refusing to actually open the file.  Firefox, however, has no issues.  Dammit, Google, you are better than this!  Fix it!

The cats would never forgive me but still...

I want a dog.

I can't tell you how intense this desire has become ever since it was becoming painfully aware my marriage was ending against my will.

I'm not sure why I want one so badly.  My cats have been amazing.  They rarely leave my side and have been loving and affectionate.  (Tabster sleeps on the pillow next to me with his head on my shoulder.)  They know I'm sad and do their best to help out.  I love my cats.  They are a major part of my heart.  

I can't say I've been mostly a cat or a dog person.  I love both animals for all of their traits.

And, lately, I've really wanted a dog.  

I've been thinking today, why that is.  I feel like there is a different kind of companionship with a dog than a cat.  A friend pointed out that if you want to look like a super hero in the eyes of another sentient being, get a dog.  (She's mainly a cat person.)  Now, my cats don't look at me like a super hero, but they do seem to care beyond the fact I feed them.  They like affection in the extreme and actually do greet me at the door.  But, it's different with a dog.  There are no words to truly describe the amount of happiness that which a dog exudes when it runs up to meet you.  Cats express it in their tails and how they rub against you and purr, subtle yet pleasant.  Dogs express happiness with every ounce of their beings from the lolling tongue to the bouncing to the tail wagging so hard it causes a full on butt wiggle.  It is possible that I want that kind of affection because of how unwanted I feel right now.  Nothing makes you feel wanted more than a dog.

I suppose that makes me selfish in a lot of ways.  But, really, that unconditional love on the return is why most people have dogs.  You have cats to teach you how to love; you have dogs to teach you how to be loved.

I still feel a little bad about it, but I can't shake this feeling that I need a dog right now.  There are other benefits: exercise (lots of walkies), fetch, the doggie bounce, the lolling tongue, the wagging tail, the eyebrows...

I don't know if it's this life situation, but I really miss having a dog.

Now, there is only one problem, well, three problems, and they are all staring at me as I type.  First of all, my eldest cat, my baby girl, has never really forgiven me for adopting the boys.  She pretty much lives life as if they are a figment of my imagination.  As far as she is concerned, she is an only child.  The next oldest really couldn't care.  The youngest is neurotic on his best day, a bloody mess on a bad day.  I don't want them to suffer from lack of attention, of course.  So, I have to really think if I can give enough love to four animals.  Three can be hard, although, cats go into that stage of "I'm sorry, who are you again?" because they have reputations of dignity and aloofness to keep, during those times, a dog is nice.

Another problem with the cats is I might have to get a puppy that is young enough to teach to like being around cats or an older rescue dog that has proven the same.  I prefer older rescue dogs, honestly, because the poor dears have a harder time getting adopted as it is, but finding one that can deal with these three, well, that could prove a challenge.  A puppy is easier to raise in that respect, but also requires constant attention, supervision, and training, which I don't mind at all, but again, I don't want the other three to suffer from lack of attention.

But, still, I really want a dog.  It is a desire that is as strong as my desire to have honey bees.

No, I can't explain it.

No, I don't plan to figure it out to explain it because why?  Why explain it?  It is strange and weird, but I like strange and weird.  It keeps life interesting.

I will say that through this definite low end on the roller coaster I've been experiencing paying attention to that which I suddenly find I need has been actually beneficial.  It's a healing thing.

So, I have to ask, what's more healing than happy wiggly doggie dances?




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There is also the benefit of protection.  Not that I feel unsafe in our neighborhood, you understand, but cats don't tend to  tell you there are intruders nearby as outwardly as a dog.  Even when I had a yippy dog as a kid, she might bark and run down the hall, but that at least told me something was wrong.  When our door got kicked in, two of my three were under the bed, the third?  Tabster?  Yawning from his cushy spot on the comforter.  Yeah, I feel soooo safe.

The F-Bomb was the only way to go.

First of all, I would like to say I completely forgot what an amazing movie "The Lion King" is.  Considering my extreme hatred for movies that sing, that is saying a lot.  ("Beauty and the Beast" is its only equal because a) it is my favorite fairy tale and b) it just rocked.)  I remember sitting in a theater waiting for a movie to start - I have no recall of what it was - and the intro to "The Lion King" played.  It was amazing, colorful, vibrant, with music that ate at your soul, and it was their bloody teaser!  I don't think Disney has ever topped that movie.  Ever.  (Pixar doesn't count.  Pixar just happens to be slaves to Disney, but their creations I cannot remotely associate with the Damn Dirty Rat.  Disney could have never come up with "The Incredibles" on its own.)  Either way, I mention this because Disney has finally pulled its head out of its bloated ass and decided to release it on Blu-Ray in October.  This is not as epic as the release of LotR on Blu-Ray, but for me, it's pretty damn close. 

Oh, shut up.  I regret nothing.

With that out of the way, I would like to lament my future passing from this planet.

No, I am not planning on committing suicide, although I figure anytime I walk outside my door it must constitute an attempt.

With the various and assorted screwed up situations in my life from my impending divorce to my unemployment, I shouldn't be surprised that the Earth would decide it had had enough and hurtle itself into the sun.

Which I guess would actually make my impending doom a murder.  Bright side to everything I guess.

Look, all I know is that it's nearly one in the morning and I am sweating.

I am not sweating because I was running on a treadmill.  I am not sweating because I just watched "300".  I am not sweating because I ate a jabanero pepper and chased it with Tabasco sauce.

I am sweating because it's nearly one in the morning and it's still 85 FUCKING DEGREES OUTSIDE!

I don't give a rat's ass if Al Gore was right or if it's just a cyclical part of weather, the way the planet leans towards the sun, or Mama Nature's hormones.  All I know is it's FUCKING HOT. 

Look, in drier parts of the world, it's way hotter during the day, but at least by nightfall it's down right chilly.  Makes up for the daytime torture.  Here, it's hotter than Satan's left nut in a sauna - and just as humid - during the day, and at night...there is no change.

I would also like to point out that my peeps down in South Louisiana are experiencing the hell and humidity of both of Satan's nuts combined.  We actually have it better up here.  (One of the many reasons I will not be going back down south.)

Last year was like a damn blast furnace, and this year seems like it's trying to keep up.

All I know is when the sun goes down and the A/C is on full blast, I'm still forced to sleep nude on top of the covers with a ceiling fan and a stand-up fan blowing because even a sheet could interrupt the delicate balance between my comfortable sleeping temperature and the alternative that is like sleeping under a wet blanket.  And, when you have that kind of situation the only words that fully describe it is "It's FUCKING HOT!"

This summer shit needs to end.

Once again, we are in mid-summer and I must repeat my mantra:

I AM SICK OF SWEATING!

I'm going to go hibernate now.  Wake me when it's October.





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This segment of the blog is brought to you by the "I don't give a shit what my electric bill is like I'm turning up the A/C" Council.

Some things are worth waiting for.

Well, I didn't get to cleaning out my closet otherwise known as my "art room" otherwise known as "the place creativity goes to flourish in a fit of evil laughter then die in a virulent case of life".  (I wish that weren't true, but it happens more often than I care to admit.  Every time I get on a roll, life tosses a brick at my head.  The message rubber-banded around it always says, "Sucker!")

I hope to accomplish that feat this weekend so I can get to work.  I mean, there are only 112 days until Halloween.

It's not time to hyperventilate yet, but we're crawling up on it.

Some of my intended projects are a slew of permanent jack-o-lanterns (some of which need to go to Mom and D), some general wet-your-pants evil for the front yard and the carport, and some items to match the theme for this year's party.  (Mad science fair.)

Good thing is the jacks are easy and I can do a bunch all at once.  The rest, well, I haven't planned much.  I've been perusing several blogs written by people who are much better at the prop-building thing than me, and I hope to glean some knowledge and possibly suck their talent right out of their brains to be used for my own evil plans.  (Mad science, FTW.)  Either way, I dug out my pen tablet, and at least plan on whipping up some plans.

As far as my ultimate plan of being The House that kids both fear and flock to during the All Hallow's is definitely working.  See, in suburbia, you have to take things in steps.  Oh, sure, I could have just entered this land of Old Ladies on Patrol bearing forth my weirdness, but all that gets you is parents steering their trick-or-treaters away because you might be a threat.  However, if you start off with a few well-placed, creepy but fun Halloween props and hand out full-sized candy bars, you earn their trust.  The next year, you ramp up the props and the creepy, and while the kids are starting to get nervous, they see that big old bowl filled with the "good stuff" and decide nightmares are worth the risk for a full-sized Hershey bar (with almonds).  The bonus is you get people from the neighborhood coming up to you while you are setting up declaring that it's great that you really play it up for the kids!

You see, I'm conditioning them.  Soon, they'll be so desperate to get at the "good candy" that no one else in the neighborhood offers that they'll be willing to withstand quite a bit in my house of horrors.  And, even funnier, the parents nine-times-out-of-ten think their kids facing their fears only to run out screaming is a hysterical sight.  Who am I to deny them the pleasure?  This conditioning especially works since most of these kids were about middle school age, which means they will soon be disillusioned pre-teens and full-on teens who think they're afraid of nothing and will have something to prove to their friends.

May I insert an evil cackle here?

Now, I just have to decide if I want to do the mad science thing as my actual display or do I want to go for a more traditional zombies and graveyard approach.  On the one hand, disgusting things in jars and vats are always well-received.  On the other, zombies coming out of the bushes always get satisfying shrieks.

Hmmm...I wonder how I an combine the two...



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Each year as my display gets more elaborate and the kids override their "she's going to cook us and eat us" instincts in the name of candy, it makes me all tingly inside.

Oh, how I missed thee...

Here's the thing:

Ye Olde Kumquat has always been a blog for whatever I feel like blogging about.

So far, this year has sucked sweaty donkey balls.

(I know that seems random, but bear with me.)

During years that exhibit higher-than-normal degrees of suckitude, I try to focus on something that which brings me much lovely, demented joy.  Yes, during those years, I focus on Halloween.

I know what you're all saying, "But, Papermasks, it's July!"  Yes, it is, which means it's time to start getting ready.  I have props to build, people to scare witless, neighbors to worry...

Those who build props and who long to have their own home-grown haunted houses understand the need to start early in the year.  Compared to most of them, I'm starting really freaking late.  Late enough for me to think in my head, "Holy shit!  There's only 117 days left until Halloween!"

Some of you might not understand that, but when you see what I have planned, you will.

So, to get us all in the mood, Ye Olde Kumquat is donning its dark and broody attitude.  Light some candles, turn out the lights, listen to the bump in the night.

Let the countdown begin...

__________________

I've had friends joke, "When is it NOT Halloween for you?"  The answer would be "Christmas."

So, Blogger, we meet again...

I honestly didn't think I'd ever be bringing my blog back to Blogger, but after fighting endlessly with other blogging software and hosts, I have to finally admit that Blogger really is the more stable of the bunch. It's not so much an endorsement for Blogger as it's a hearty "Up Yours!" to all the others. If you assholes would make your software actually work then I wouldn't feel the need to give up on you.

By the way, Go Daddy! mixed with Moveable Type equals Hackable Nightmare.

So much for having my own domain name. Well, technically I still have them, but it does little good when I can't fuckin' access the blog to update it!

I could probably fight with it, but I've got enough stress right now.

Yeah, about that. My poor blog was getting updated fairly regularly until about March when my husband pretty much decided he didn't want to be with me anymore. Understandably, I put things on hold. We've come several steps through the impending divorce, so I'm feeling as if I can start writing again. I won't talk much about that subject only to say it blows in ways I can't even begin to describe. On top of said splitting of my marriage, I lost my job. Oh, and let's add to that! I came very close to losing my brother and his family in the Joplin, MO tornado.

So, yeah, adding to my stress by screaming obscenities and various other threats at my blog host is just kind of stupid.

I'm not moving my blog again. It's suffered greatly at all the juggling. Now, let's see if I can revive the poor thing.

CLEAR!

BZZT!

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And, if Blogger tries to use this post as a glowing endorsement of its services, I'll deny it all and claim I was hacked by an informercial host.