Hey! I’m back!
How was your Halloween? Mine was, meh. But I know part of that is my fault. I don’t like parties, because I’m just weird like that, and I don’t get any thrill out of costumes anymore, because I can’t see them. I do, however, still love Halloween candy, and scary stories. Foolishly, I decided to pass up going grocery shopping with the parents, on Friday. If I’d gone, I would’ve bought extra Halloween candy, so there would be plenty of leftovers. Mom and dad assumed that we weren’t going to get much trick-or-treaters, because of covid. So they only bought one little bag of fun-sized Kit Kats.
Yeah, I’m an adult, but not a very grownupy one. When mom and dad were my age, if there was nothing going on for Halloween, it didn’t bother them at all to go about it, like it was just another day. To me, that’s depressing. The child within still likes to do something on Halloween, to make it a special day.
I unintentionally ended up spending three hours on WordPress, catching up on reading others blogs, and commenting back and forth. That’s not very Halloween spirited, but deciding to not worry about time management kind of added a slight Holiday feel, in a nerdy sort of way. After that, I binge-watched shows about serial killers. Eh, it was something. The shows about BTK, Jeffrey Dommer, and some dude in Alaska who killed blond-haired strippers and prostitutes, were all very graphic and creepy.
We had a surprising amount of trick-or-treaters. Mom doubted that we would have enough Kit Kats. She offered to set aside one Kit Kat for me, one for dad, and one for Jaden, but I told her to just give mine to a trick-or-treater. I didn’t want just one fun-sized Kit Kat for Halloween. That’s lame. When the trick-or-treating was over, we had two Kit Kats left, which are going to be given to Jaden.
We had an amusing incident with this trick-or-treater who was a Trump fan. Mom and dad had put a Biden sign in our front yard. When this one little boy came to the door, he asked mom, “Why are you voting for Jo biden?” We thought this was funny, because he looked no older than 8, and his tone of voice, and his little face expressed such disgust.
“Because I like him.” was mom’s appropriate answer for a child that age.
When dad went out front, to take over the treat giving duty for mom, he came back in to throw away an empty juice pouch that one of the kids threw on our front porch. I wouldn’t be surprised if that little Trumpadite did it, as his 8-year-old way of letting us know that he thinks we suck.
Anyhow, here is the fifth day of my vacation journal.
Thursday October 22
Spicy, salty, and so very greasy
Processed junk in a convenient can
Another disgrace to the American diet
Making my mini fridge smell like processed pork farts
I’ve always had a fondness toward shit-nasty processed meat. It’s a guilty pleasure. Hot dogs, Bologna, spam, oh, it’s all good. Even Vienna sausages. What the hell are those things made of, anyway? They taste kind of like meat, but their texture is like they were manufactured by kids with Playdough Fun Factories. You could mush the whole can of them together, and start sculpting farm animals and ash trays, but it sure is tasty.
I had gotten both spam and Bologna, as a part of my vacation-grocery order. I haven’t had spam in a few years, and it was an infamous food that I always enjoyed, as gross as it is. I mean, really. Think about it. It’s meat, chemically broken down and processed into a mealy mush, and then compressed and molded into smelly, greasy, pinkish brown blocks. Then when you take it out of the can, it makes this unappetizing, slimy sucking noise. Yet, I still eat it.
I put the slimy, stinking block of meat-product on a large plate, and cut it into thin slices, to snack on with some cracker-cut sharp cheddar. As a teenager, I used to be able to eat a whole can of spam, in one sitting. Now-a-days, my post-40 digestive system couldn’t handle such an intense dose of grease. After a few slices, I put the plate of it in the mini fridge, with just a paper towel over it. That stuff was so greasy, I figured that it didn’t need much protection from the dryness of the fridge.
Bleck, never again.
Next time, I’ll put the leftovers in a vacuum-sealed bag made with oder-block technology. For the next couple of days, every time I opened the mini fridge, a fearsome, spicy processed pewsh cloud rose up into the kitchen, and extended its funk to every corner of the lock-off.
Thursday was rainy, which enhanced my mood to be lazy, all the more. Aside from indulging in spam and sharp cheddar, I indulged into the whimsical world of Sarah Canon. Her Y A and new adult books are another guilty pleasure. I’ve been reading her Shadow Demons series, which has been one hell of a crazy reading journey.
It’s about these witches who live in a small town in Georgia, called Peachville, but their secret organization called The Order of Shadows, extends all over the globe. They enhance their magical abilities, by capturing demons from a realm called the Shadow World, and enslaving them. The Shadow World isn’t Hell, or anything like it. It’s a beautiful world with three suns, and three moons, and zero environmental problems. Its demons are actually a magical race of people who could live forever, if they choose to.
The Order had created portals to the Shadow World, where they send out their Hunters to capture the demons. The Hunters are kind of like zombi witches, but they’re a lot more functional than zombies. They could battle with their dark magic, better than normal witches, but they are magically kept alive, long past the natural human life span. So they age enough for their bodies to start decomposing, as though they are dead. The Hunters abduct the demons, and bring them to Earth, where they are forced to live within the witches’ bodies, never to see their friends and loved ones in the Shadow World again. When a witch dies, her enslaved demon dies.
The half-witch/half-demon main character, who is also a princess in the Shadow World, is starting up a revolution against The Order, recruiting both demons and witches. Witches who are no longer bedazzled by the allure of The Order, and are aware of how corrupt it really is. I was on book 6 in the series. By this part, the princess, her hunky demon boyfriend, and their demon and witch friends have figured out how to deactivate the Peachville portal. They’ve also discovered the secret to how to destroy the portals, which would stop The Order from being able to abduct and enslave anymore demons. They learned about the secret to how to free demons from their witch captors too. However, I’m only about half-way through the series. Princess and company had both successes and failures, in ways I’m not giving away, but they still have a hell of a battle ahead of them.
It stopped raining, by the time we wanted to eat dinner, which worked out perfectly—Or so we thought. We planned to have dinner at the pool-side cafe, but when we got to the pool, there was no more restaurant. Because of covid, they stopped serving food all together. No more deliveries either. They have a little shop that sells some basic groceries and snacks, but because of covid, the shop closed at 2:00 P M. Back in the normal days, it used to stay open until nighttime. So vacationers who wanted to get something to eat past 2:00, were on their own.
They still served drinks by the pool, but nobody was allowed to sit at the bar. Instead, there was this long-ass line of socially distanced people in masks, waiting to get a drink. This was vacationing, dystopian-style, baby.
So we went to good old Publix to get dinner. Mom bought veggie burgers, and dad ordered a veggie wrap with no cheese, because they both think they’re fat. Ever since I’ve known them, they’ve had this obsession with getting thin, but they still never succeeded in how thin they wish they could be, after 40 freaking years. I ordered an Italian sub. A small one, of course, but only so I could make room for cinnamon & sugar pita chips. I think Stacy’s makes them. The parents didn’t find them, on their first grocery trip that week. I was thrilled when mom spotted them by the bakery breads, because I hadn’t had them in a couple of years. They are seriously addictive.
After getting my gorge on, I checked my Facebook Messenger, and was like, “Oh, shit.” My fellow Writers’ Mastermind group member, Sandra, wanted me to send her a copy of HECCTROSSIPY (book 1) The Legend of the Land to review on her blog. And I had already told Jo to not send out any author copies. She lives in Québec. I told her that the book is available on Amazon C A, and she was like, “I’ll just get a copy on a later date.”
I asked her if it was more expensive at the Canadian book store than at the U K and U S ones.
“I don’t know,” she said, “I never shop at Amazon U K or Amazon U S.”
I admit, I got the wrong idea, which made me a little annoyed with her. I thought she was being a cheapskate who thought she should get the book for free, because she’s a group member. I didn’t want to tell Jo that I changed my mind, and then have him spend his money on mailing Sandra an author copy, all the way to Canada. But at the same time, I really, really wanted her review. She’s good at flying through books, and loves giving reviews. So I was in a dilemma, and decided to ask Christa what I should do about this, on Friday.
By the end of the day, I finished book 6 of the Shadow Demons series. Wow! Each book I’ve read had ended with a twist. The sixth book had two, the usual type of twist, and then the mother of all holy-shit twists. It was one of those endings that got me PUMPED. I can’t say that I recommend you to read this series yet, because like I mentioned before, I’m only about half-way through it. The ending of the last book might be a total stink bomb, for all I know. As for now, it was an exciting, mental movie experience to have, before getting ready for bed, and the ending for my journal post about Thursday the 22nd. Otherwise, I’ll be yammering on about putting on slipper socks, going into a bathroom vent induced trance, and leaving the dishes unwashed for, yet, another night.
Love you all! Post you tomorrow!