To My Dad (not the good, sectioned, in order version. That would require more than a phone.)

(UPDATE, October 2016:

In September 2016, there was a bombing near my dad’s apartment. I knew he was physically ok, but I sent him an email titled, “Are You OK?”. His response caused major anxiety and panic attacks and I wrote a draft response. I also went iver his email point by point, but there are only so many times one can insert the word, “Bullshit”. My dad has been rewriting history for a while. I’m aware that he does not like the Real Me, but I find it odd that, when rewriting history, he doesn’t make me into someone that he likes — or loves. Instead I am made out to be worse than I ever was, which confuses me. Why not make me into the child he always wanted me to be? I posted the email responses but quickly took it down. My father needs psychological help and I felt posting would have “gone to far”. But in going through my Drafts, I found this. Maybe he’ll see it, most likely he won’t, but these memes are as close as I can get to letting him know how I feel.)

I love my dad but, as you will soon see, he has hurt me again. I had a great set up but an accidental click on “trash” ruined it. So here are the memes in no special order. (I hate WordPress on my phone but my grandma refuses to listen to what my son and I need and goes with what my dad, aka, The Favorite, says, and we wind up with a bigger Netflix screen. Thanks, dad. Big help. My son can show his teachers YouTube instead of a science project!)

Notice the name here, dad:

Aaand of course some are missing and they’re not divided but that’s what happens when you don’t have a compiter or laptop — glad you ignored the last list of ten and chose one to watch Netflix on, Dad, but we needed one so my kid wouldn’t have to skip lunch and stay late to use the school computer. (And if you start in on his weight, I’ll remind you how you called me “fat” when Playboy asked me to pose for them. Or how you pointed at me and an unnamed Doorman, telling us if we didn’t lose weight we’d get diabetes a week before you fell into your first diabetic coma. Or I’ll poke your belly. Arse.)

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It’s Been A While, Eh?: Journal Wed/Thurs 2/3 March 2016

Wednesday (with some Thursday edits):
My plan with these “journal entries” was two-fold:
— keep with the Free Write element, making the train of thought a bit more personal, as in some other wonderful blogs that I will no doubt share (I’m waiting for permission on an especially good one and still hoping to ask a writer at The Write Practice a few questions)
— get rid of the numerous drafts that are taking up room by incorporating them into the journal posts.

Continue reading “It’s Been A While, Eh?: Journal Wed/Thurs 2/3 March 2016”

How Amanda Palmer Won Me Over. Sort of.

Amanda Palmer is easy to hate. She’s loud. She’s demanding — and her rise to increased public visibility has come largely care of her willingness to treat the world as part piggy bank, part personal assistant. She stonewalls in the face of criticism. She’s got a large, vocal, and aggressively evangelistic fanbase; she’s one of those polarizing public figures it’s hard to casually enjoy or dislike.

[From: The Art of Asking Why We Hate Amanda Palmer | WIRED]

Continue reading “How Amanda Palmer Won Me Over. Sort of.”

Google+ : Perverts Paradise! (Repost from 2014)

Repost because the original seems to have gone missing.
Friday, December 19, 2014
Google+ : Perverts Paradise!
I will freely admit that in this New World of everyone vomiting their personal guts up — “Look at my kid! Here he is two seconds later, isn’t he adorable? And, here, same pose, same outfit, same day. Amazing, isn’t it?” — or the, “I need you to unfriend and block C—-. He’s stalking me. Again.” — etc, etc, — this whole, let’s put it ALL out there and then some, people will think we’re making it up anyway — is baffling to me.
Kids under ten are posted all over for child molesters (they’re out there. They may sit in front of you in Sex Ed. They may help your kids onto animals at the Bronx Zoo, copping a feel. They may wear lots of buttons on their Toys R Us vest to attract more kids. Yes, I’m talking about you, Mr. N.L.). Kids with Facebook accounts that parents swear they’re watching. Hell, I can’t even watch my own FB account all the time!
But the worst violation I have come across is Google➕.
I was required to get a gmail account when I got my phone. I was NEVER told I would be automatically signed up for  Google➕ account.
I never posted, so I never received notification that it was there.
I was watching YouTube with my son (no pictures of him; I say it’s because he’s too gorgeous, and that’s part of it. The other part is, if I know you, you’ll get your own pictures of him. If you don’t know him, you don’t need pictures of him. I don’t need your comments to let me know he’s amazing; I KNOW he’s awesome!). Somehow, they link me thru YouTube to Google ➕.
And there I find every picture I’ve ever taken on my cell phone, every photo and video sent to my cell phone, it’s all there for people to see and download.
I immediately shut down the sites — Google ➕ & YouTube.
I felt dirty.
Violated.
It’s one thing to CHOOSE to show my breasts; it’s another when they’re just put out there.
Eventually, I was able to reuse the accounts, and (supposedly) the pictures are for “my eyes only”.
If you ever see photos on Google ➕ that aren’t individually posted, PLEASE TELL ME.
I’d do the same for you, but, sad to say, I doubt that most of you will care.

D. K. Stevens at 5:40 PM

My (sorely neglected) Free Write blog: http://www.dkstevens327.WordPress.com

If you’re on http://www.dkstevens327.WordPress.com, check out http://www.writersgroup1.WordPress.com. And vice versa.
Blessed Be.

VD Post

I’m spending a lovely valentines with my son, the best Valentine ever!
I was going to finish my Stalkers post, but we’re a bit busy with video games, Netflix, and the Annotated Sandman, so here are a few things for you to watch:
❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤
Charlie Brown Be My Valentine
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❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤
“Lovey dovey bullshit”. Neil Gaiman recites a love poem he wrote for his wife Amanda Palmer.
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❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤
And, some Tom Hiddleston…
MTV After Hours With Tom Hiddleston
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❤❤❤
Slumber Party With Tom Hiddleston
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❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤
Remember,

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And as I posted on Twitter and Facebook,
Happy VD to those who celebrate! (Older people will get the reference. Younger people need to wait until Saint Thomas’ Day.)

Sandman, 2nd Generation

When I was 17, I met a vampire in Pittsburgh.
We first met on a crowded stairway. From behind me I hear, “Nice tattoo.” Since this was 1992, and I’d just had my first one done, I turned. “But I like the face better.”
I bumped into him the next day and, as we walked to his place a few blocks away, he confided he was a 200 year old vampire. True, he was thin and pale, tho not as pale as me, but… “You do know you’re in the sun, right?”
“Stings a bit, but I have a high threshold for pain.”
He had an answer for every question, and that, mixed with my penchant for passing out in the sun, made us both hurry to his house.
Just before we stepped inside, he asked if he could suck my blood.
“Aren’t you worried you might catch something?” I asked.
“I’m already dead, remember?”
But when he asked if I’d suck his blood, “I’m still alive. I can catch something.”
We made our way up to the third floor bedroom, where the most amazing poster hung on his closet door:

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I sat on the floor, back against the couch, mesmerized by every detail. The cat with bat wings. The girl gently resting her hand on the head of the girl sitting on the floor.
As my vampire sat above me, legs on either side of me, he pulled the hair away from the back of my neck and maybe it was the situation– I’m having my blood sucked by a guy who thinks he’s a vampire– but I insisted he take me to buy my own. (I still have it. It’s on my wall now.)

When I got home, I went straight to Forbidden Planet, a large comic book store near where I lived. I described the poster, and was led to a graphic novel called, “Sandman: Season of Mists”.
I bought it, read it, and was hooked. The author, Neil Gaiman, had so much knowledge, which he seamlessly wove into his stories.
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I was a Gaimanite. (“Gaimanite” is a potential term for a Neil Gaiman fan. There was a minor Twitter debate.) I longed to add the cover version of the Key to Hell as a tattoo. (*There are at least three versions of the Key. I did get the Key done, tho I waited 17 years.)
I read everything I could that had Neil Gaiman as an author. I bought graphic novels, books.
I even got a T-shirt with a popular Death quote:
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Fast forward to a week ago at the library. I’ve been begging my son to read on of Mr. Gaiman’s books, but no luck.
It was when I checked out, “The Annotated Sandman, vols 2 and 3 that my sons’ curiosity got the best of him.
Book 2 begins with Season of Mists. And, like me, my son can’t put it down.
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And so it begins.
A new Neil Gaiman fan. Only this one Is a 2nd generation fan.
To my “vampire”, where ever you are, thank you.

Dating Site Advice from a Newbie

(5 minute free write)

My introduction to internet dating sites came from my “baby daddy”, as he wishes to be called.
He had asked me to live with him — and his younger sister at his mom’s — and I came ” home” one day to find him looking at prospects. When I asked if he’d mentioned that he was living with someone, he said he was doing it “for us”.
No, not for a threesome.
This site had been advertising a questionnaire that could, supposedly, find your soulmate in 29 questions. He’d filled it out, and wanted me to do the same to see if we’d be matched up.
“There’s just one problem, ” I said. “In the age category. I would say I want to date some my age or older — and you’re two and a half years younger.”
And, no, I did not believe his story, but as I was already looking to escape him, I wasn’t all that upset…

However, after yet another friend became engaged to someone she met thru an online dating service, I decided to try it. As an experiment. Sort of.

After a few weeks, I’ve come up with some Do’s and Don’t’s. Well, mostly Don’t’s.
(Note: I was only allowed to choose male OR female, not both. I chose male because I can be with a male and not get emotionally involved. With females, it’s rare for me not to have some sort of emotional feelings. Yes, it confuses most people, not just you.)

Here we go:

* When going on a dating site, do NOT give yourself a name like, “SmoothLover”, ” HotNSexy”, or, “Your#1Man”. On the other hand, I was not impressed by, “MamasBoy” (tho I do like Mama’s boys), and “GreenPiss” (I swear this one is real!).

* When posting photos, there are quite a few things that won’t work. Posting all group photos but not saying which one you are; including your mom or dad or your kids; including an ex or strippers (Sorry, they were, “dancers at a show in Atlantic City”, responded the guy in question when I asked.); and only posting sayings and pictures of cartoon characters.

* Before you respond, you should read ALL of what the other person wrote. For example, I wrote that I wasn’t getting the upgrade, so clicking that you want to “meet me” will get you nothing, but a message will be more likely to get a response. (The ratio of “meet” to a message is about 2:1.)

What does work? With me, nothing, so far.

Next: I switch over to the lesbian dating site and get my heart broken.