"Does that girl EVER shut up?"
"Who gives the nurse at a doctor's appointment a business card?"
"Do you think she's really an author, or... really, really STONED?"
"Cheerful as fuck, though. I should probably get some of whatever drugs she's on."
"Because, who has so much energy at eight am?"
"It must be caffeine."
"I'm totally going to look up this 'Tate Hallaway' person, because she's hilarious. Is monster erotica really a thing?"
"Can't be from around here, though. WAY. TOO. LOUD.."
Seriously, what is wrong with me?
I was in to see a dermatologist because, you know, my warranty expired at 48, and Shawn noticed a weird little growth on my cheek. (I TOLD you that my blogs would suddenly be all medical issues all the time!) Anyway, so there I was, and I might have had a little too much coffee and was already wound up because I rage quit watching Jessica Jones (more on that in a bit) and I dunno, the nurse was nice, okay? And, I just didn't feel up for the Minnesota call-and-response so t stopped trying to pretend like I knew when the hell anything happened with my body.
Her: "How long ago have you had the growth on your face?"
Me: "Who even knows? You'd think I'd notice a thing on my face. It's not like I don't look in the mirror every damn day, but I must have just dismissed it as 'weird thing that seems harmless.' I'm only here because my wife worries."
Her: "Um, okay..."
Me: "I've had coffee. Maybe too much."
Her: ... *smiles nervously* "Yeah, okay. I get that. So what do you do for a living?"
Me: *already reaching for business cards* "I have the most awesome job. You won't even *believe* how cool it is."
The nurse agrees that being published is, in point of fact, WICKED cool and goes on to confess that she LOVES to read and she's super-sad that she hasn't be able to read for pleasure because she's in the middle of school (she's going for her RN, I asked,) and, yes, paranormal romances are RIGHT up her alley and her husband LOVES science fiction and she WILL take that card, could I write down a few titles? She goes away and I get undressed and stuff. When the doctor comes in, I can tell the nurse was talking about me, because the doc smiles brightly at me and says, "I hear you're a famous author," to which I reply, "Yes, award-winning."
Because I f*cking have NO shame.
And, because this is a skin check, I'm basically saying all this COMPLETELY NAKED. I mean, yes, I have a sheet draped over me, but the doctor is checking out my boobs and butt, because that's her job, and all the while I'm yacking away about why I have a pseudonym (a lot of people don't understand the mechanics of why you would, and when I told the doctor that the romances are under a different name, she was very curious why that would be.)
I'm SURE I was the talk of the office after I left.
On the other hand, I may have sold a few more books.
Speaking of creative content, I'm watching Netflix's Jessica Jones. I just rage quit in the middle of episode 5. I may go back, but I'm having serious problems with this show. I will put the spoilers under a cut, but let me first say that "noir" and "dark" shouldn't mean humorless and unthinking. The epic fan fic I write has been categorized as dark because I tackle hard issues realistically. But that doesn't mean that my characters are inhuman to one another (at least not ALL THE TIME) or that there aren't moments of lightness and insight and kindness. Jessica Jones misses some opportunities for clever humor, IMHO, that could go a long way to making the characters sympathetic. As it stands, I don't like anyone on the show (with the exception of a hapless neighbor.) ( Read more... )