Trust me. I do this for a living....

We all have our moments, right? 

No matter what you do for a living, you have had an EPIC!Fail in your field. And it's always embarrassing, no matter who you are. 

I was reminded of one of the first rules of SysAdminning this week: ALWAYS check the physical first. But I forgot. Or rather, I only half-checked. 

See, I have UVerse for my cable provider. We have one of those "You kids got it so good now" wireless TV receivers, but we haven't really been using it.

I went to use it this weekend, and lo and behold, it has no signal. I checked the connection to the TV, unplugged it all, plugged it back in, and nothing. Zip. No signal.

It paired with their device just fine, but it never initialized the client (which means it acted like it was talking to the box just fine, but it got no TV shows from it). 

I tried to initialize it several times before I finally gave up and called Tech Support. I followed all their instructions, allowed them to remotely reset my connection (wiping out my phone, cable, and internet while it rebooted), and still nothing. 

One Service Call, coming up. Luckily, I was not at home when the service tech showed up to fix the problem. Spouse got to show him our set up and set him to work on the problem. 


He found it immediately: the network cable was unplugged to the receiver unit. He plugged that cable in, paired the receiver, and MAGIC! Reception!

It took him longer to fill out the paperwork than to actually resolve our issue.

Bottom line: ALWAYS check the physical first. And then laugh at yourself for having a momentary moment of moronicness. (what, it's a word. now.)

Yep, I am a professional IT person. *head. desk*

It happens to all of us at one point or another. Don't let it define your qualifications. Just laugh it off and move on. Because there's always another minor catastrophe just waiting around the corner to teach you a little humility again. 
~xxx~

Thirsty Thursday: On Location

Blood Orange Rita and Deep Eddy Rumble, spotted accompanying the Red Chile Fries on our table at Jack Allen's Kitchen. 'Nuff said.

~xxx~

24

That's two dozen, for those keeping track.

That's the number of hours in a day.

That's 99.9% pure, if you're talking about gold.


That's nearly two and a half decades I've spent with you, Spouse. 

That's not nearly enough. That's not even halfway to enough. That's just the start.

(And that's the beginning of the Elvis Silver Anniversary Celebration campaign.... Remarried, by Elvis, in Vegas next year. Who's with me?) 


"Love isn’t an emotion or an instinct – it’s an art." Mae West

~xxx~

Who Made You?

When you hit that 'tween stage, the media starts telling you how you should act/dress/behave for your gender. That's when you start to identify with the role models who will shape your life.

There's the teachers, and the firemen, and the soldiers, who all inspire you to reach your greatest potential, to give back, to stand brave in the face of adversity.

There's your friends, family, and the strangers who make a difference every day. The web is full of them.

Your heroes. They help create your overall outlook on life.

But that's just a part of who you are. 

You're human. You have these...urges. Needs. Desires. And that's what I want to talk about today. Because we always look up to our heroes, and we all have our career aspirations, but has anyone ever asked about your sexual identity? 

I'm not talking about your preferences, blond or brunette, bear or twink.  It's not what you want in your bed, but how you project yourself to get them in it. Can you look to someone and say 'yeah, that's what I'm going to be like when I grow up'? Someone who had the qualities you just knew would become your own?

When I was young the public library would show old movies every Saturday afternoon. (For your reference, I hit that point during the late 70s, early 80s,  - yeah, forever ago)

I remember going to those showings and seeing a bombshell up on the screen, completely owning the world and her place in it. She had curves, and she wasn't ashamed to show them off. She was sensuous, sexual, and a bit scandalous.


She was blond. 

She was brassy. 

She was sassy.

She was not Marilyn Monroe.

We don't have her vulnerability, my maven and me. We don't say 'Please love me.' We say 'you do or you don't' and leave it at that.





We don't have Garbo's mysterious aloofness. We put it all on display for everyone to see.














We don't have the grace, elegance, or sophistication of either Hepburn. We're dirty and a bit rough around the edges. 












We don't exude Bacall's cool confidence. We're bawdy and brash.













Nope. I am a Mae West. 

Confidence is sexy as hell, don't you think?

The wit. Check (I think?)
The comedic timing. Check (mostly? sometimes?)
The voluptuous curves. *looks down* Uh, yeah. Big, round check.
The heaping helpings of innuendo.  Fill that box with a long....fat.....check. Repeatedly. ;)

Like her, I'd say I'm a terrible flirt, but I am so good at it. She knew her assets, but she also knew they didn't begin and end with her measurements. Her curves were a big part of who she was, but they didn't define her. 

Unashamed, unabashed, and unassuming. Not a bad way to live your life, don't you agree? 


So, who helped define you as a sexual being? Are you still looking for someone to jumpstart your self esteem? You're always welcome to come up and see me sometime. Because you're perfect, just as you are. 

~xxx~

Thirsty Thursday: Mexican Martini

Mmmm. Tequila..... 

My mini minions, lined up for battle

I gotta tell ya, I'm a big fan of the margarita. It's pretty much a staple down here, deep in the heart. You just can't go wrong with tequila, triple sec, and lime juice.

When you start tinkering with it, the options become endless around these parts: rocks or frozen? regular or flavored? salt or no salt? floater or not? It goes on and on.

Then you get to the Mexican Martini. Tequila, orange liquor, and citrus juice, served with the shaker (built in refill - hell, yeah!) Neighbor and I did some tinkering with the basic recipe, and we've come up with something that, well, you just might not remember tomorrow, so go easy....


There's no real measurements to this - it all depends on your taste and the size of your pitcher (and yes, you are making a pitcher, not a glass of this). Remember, this is supposed to be fun. Roll with how you like it, not what some recipe demands.


Fill your pitcher with ice
Fill about a third with tequila
Fill a third with triple sec
Fill half of what's left with orange juice

Add One (1) can or bottle Mike's Hard Limeade (or the Black Cherry or Cranberry for a different flavor)

Squeeze an orange, a lemon, and a lime

Stir, and serve. In a BLUE Solo cup. (Yeah, I went there. I know red is the popular choice, but let's buck the trend here).

I'll be over there. Probably on the floor. But that's okay too. Because it's five o'clock somewhere....

~xxx~

Weigh-In Wednesday: The Accidental Hiatus

So..... yeah.

I haven't done this in a while. Why? I can't tell you. 

Seriously, I can't say why. 

It's not because I'm some big secret-keeping secret keeper. There's no hidden agenda.  No massive project brewing. 

It's really nothing. Or, probably more accurately, The Nothing.



The Nothing crawled inside my head and made its way to my heart, and took over.

I've been a big blob of 'meh' for a while. 

I haven't been able to do any writing. It's not a block; it's more of a pit. A big black hole (without the cool robots), sucking every bit of light and energy out of me. I get about three sentences in, and I get an overwhelming feeling of 'blah' about everything, then I wind up back on the web. 

And we all know where that leads, right? The evol that is AO3. I found my way to Sterekville, lost for months now. I took a couple of turns and wound up hanging out in Nagronia for a while too. (Don't worry - there will be more blog posts coming discussing these boys. I can't.... I just ... yeah. We'll talk about it later.)

The real problem here....

So, I've identified the problem, and now I need to resolve it. (That's me. I'm a problem solver.)

I'm working on breaking out of Beacon Hills. Stepping away from the Sterek.

I've finished a story for the Goodreads MM Romance Group's Love Has No Boundaries event. It was like pulling teeth, but I'm pleased with the results. 

And Lauren, I'm sorry. You're next, and.... It. Will. Be. Done. This. Month. 

Falcor, will you give me a ride?

Time to pull my head out and get on with the getting on. Where's my luckdragon when I need him? Because this really is a neverending story. All we need to do is keep writing.

~xxx~

Aaron is Coming Soon

Actually, he's not.

Sure, Monkey Wrench comes out tomorrow (get it at Dreamspinner, and you still have time to enter to win it at Stumbling Over Chaos and at Babes in Boyland).

Aaron has always felt like he had to prove himself. He's the little guy, the underdog. Monkey Wrench really is his coming of age. Sure, he's an adult, and a police officer, but he's still very innocent and immature in some ways. See, he understands the mechanics of relationships and intimacy. He's seen his friends pair off, and as a cop, he's seen the ugly side of it as well. He's just never applied the idea to himself. For most of his life, he's been asexual.

If you're looking for hot monkey sex, I'm afraid I'm going to disappoint you. (What? xXx wrote a story without sex? Inconceivable!) Aaron just wasn't ready for it. He's learning about himself. In the end he's happy for now. That's not to say a certain bobcat shifter hasn't piqued his interest.

But that's another story...

~xxx~




Monkey Wrench, A Were Menagerie Story

Twenty-year-old virgin Aaron Thorne has a lot of irons in the fire. He’s on a career-making case investigating a new party drug that induces shifts in werecreatures, and his friend is the prime suspect. Outside of work, a literal silver fox has captured his attention. And just when life start going smoothly for Aaron, a tall, dark, scowly bobcat shifter named Iggy appears and sweeps him off his feet.

After being attacked in the course of his investigation, Aaron starts to feel like he has something to prove. It’s a good thing he’s got all the energy of his shifter animal, the spider monkey. He’s going to need it to solve the case, sort out his love life, and decide what kind of man he wants to be.