The Year That Wasn't

I hated 2008.

I really did.   I can't remember, in fact, thinking that I've actually ever been able to say that I'm GLAD that a year has passed.  As much as I bitch on this blug about stuff, you'd be surprised to know that, beneath my gruff exterior, I'm a pretty fucking optimistic guy.  At least, I like to think so, anyway.

This makes it all the weirder that I'd be happy to say so-fucking-long to an entire year.

I did some pretty cool stuff this year.  I mean I was totally self-employed for the first time.  That was awesome.   I really did a good job, too.   Well, that's over now.   With hope for any future incarnation of this specific dream ever being fulfilled.  That sucks.

All the political shit, all the no-fucking-money shit, all the unemployment shit, all the self-abuse and hatred shit, all the fucking fucking fucking SHHHIIIIIITT that I've had to deal with this year.  Just....  Just fuck it.  I am so happy to be moving on.

ALL HAIL 2009!  (I'll tell you in a year how it turned out.)

Happy Fucking New Year,

Elvis Chainsaw

MORE Fun With Facebook Friends

THE FOLLOWING IS A CONTINUATION OF LETTERS SENT BETWEEN ME AND A FRIEND FROM HIGH SCHOOL WHO IS A SELF-PROCLAIMED "BLOOD-BORN" CHRISTIAN.  WHATEVER THAT MEANS....  IF YOU'RE CONFUSED, GO BACK A POST AND CATCH UP.

Elvis,

Those are fair questions. I am not angry about you bringing that up. It actually is part of my testimony.

I was brought up in a Christian home, but didn't understand the faith that I was brought up in. To be honest with you, even after several years of church going my parents didn't even understand it. I was not a firm believer even after Chad died. It wasn't until I ran into some real men of faith that showed me what it really meant to be a man. They helped me understand that there has been a spiritual war going on since before the beginning of earth. That battle has now shifted to control our minds. I learned that Satan was banished from heaven, and came into this world to kill, steal, and the destroy John 10:10, and that Jesus came to give life and give it abundantly. Satan's number one goal is to get people to believe that he is not real. He hates God and all that He created including ALL men. He is a liar and a trickster, and is able to put thoughts into the minds of people to do careless and wrongful things, which may put them in bad situations that may cause them their lives or hurt others around them. For what reason you ask? To control your mind and the minds around you. To possibly influence you enough to put the blame on God for letting it happen. Here is the truth....God can not do anything on this earth without working through people (he gave dominion to man on this earth check out Genesis).

That night that my friend died, there was a group of us that were visiting a 'haunted' house, and soaping cars. The questions to this activity is; Is that a good thing to do? If we would have run that through our moral compass, would we have done that? Probably not. If we were not doing that, would [my friend] had died? Probably not.

With that in mind, to answer your questions, No, I didn't become a Christian before the accident, but I am glad I found the truth later. It helped me understand that it was not God's will to take [my friend's] life, and that although it didn't make things better, it did help me understand that I could make a good out of it.

I truely believe that you were created for greatness. You just should know that you have the ability to tap into a hidden power that most people don't even realize is out there. But, as I stated earlier in this message, you were given dominion and a free will to do what you want. That is the will of God.



MY RESPONSE:


Thanks for the frankness and openness of your response. It is really appreciated. It proves that you are not a jerk, above all else. (:

I felt really awful about saying that about [your friend], for fear that you would mis-interpret my meaning, and think that I was just trying to hurt you. I wasn't. Really. I had just written it four different ways already, and they all just seemed petty and angry. I guess that, ultimately, I was trying to gauge your commitment to your beliefs.

I wanted to see what kind of commitment you had to your faith, and now that I can see you are TRULY devoted to your spiritual choice, I want to tell you that I honestly respect it. I mean it. Your choices are yours, and mine are mine. Isn't that fundamentally fair?

Now, I'd like to ask you to show my choice of being an atheist the same respect.

Equating atheism with a negative connotation is EXACTLY the same as judging someone based on their sexual orientation, or their age, or the color of their skin. The disrespect you showed my choice of non-adherence to a religious doctrine was blatant bigotry. And, even if I'm an atheist, it still hurts to be insulted. I'm sure we can both agree that feelings are unrelated to one's doctrine.

Understand that I am not ignorant to the teachings of Christianity. In fact, I minored in religious studies while in college, simply out of my curiosity for the subject. And, those studies went far beyond the confines of the Christian religion. I have studied buddhism, taoism, judaism, islam, shinto, and more. It's not that I've "never found my spiritual voice", I just formed an opinion based on my knowledge-base, personal history, and "gut feeling". The same as you. We just arrived at a different place, that's all.

Also, keep in mind that I've been an atheist for over 10 years, and I've been "witnessed to" by some of the best. I am confident in my choice, and do not feel that I will ever waiver. So, any attempt to "bring me around" will be just plain insulting to me. In addition, I honor the choices you have made with your life, because I respect you. I always have.

That said, I'm not going to try and convince you otherwise. You don't have to worry that I'm going to "talk you out of being Christian". I just won't. It's not important to me. What is important is keeping you as a friend, and seeing you live your life in a way that makes you happy. That's what I believe in.

I've had this whole damn conversation a thousand times, it seems. A person finds out that I'm an atheist, and makes an attempt to show me where I went wrong along the way. It doesn't work, and eventually, you end up making enemies. It's just awful. Atheism is simply a choice not to believe. Whoever told you that atheism is a spiritual choice for folks who don't want to have morals is a dolt. It's hate-speech, simple as that. If I told somebody that if they didn't speak English, they were somehow LESS of a person and their morals were at question, I would be a dick. My choice of NON belief is a personal one, and one that does not make me less of a man, or less moral.

ON the other hand, if you want to have an extended drawn-out conversation about the benefits of adopting a dogma, I'd be happy to go on extensively about a variety of reasons formalized, organized, faith-based religion is inherently, scientifically, and socially flawed. But, if you are secure in your belief system, who am I to question it? Why should I care? It's your god, it's none of my business, right?

Exactly...

In addition, if you looked at my page, and my groups, and all the other FB crap that I've logged, you already know that I'm a left-wing moonbat politically and in practice. Liberalism is not a bad thing, regardless of what Limbaugh says. Our founding fathers were ALL labled "criminals" by the British, and their "liberal ideas" about starting their own country caused a fuckload of people to die while trying to establish America's Liberty. Mainly, I am a supporter of freedom. Freedom from lots of stuff that I'll be happy to tell you about if you want to hear it. If you don't, that's okay too.

So, all of that said, I would really appreciate you adding me as a "friend" again on Facebook. I know it sounds silly, but I enjoy seeing how you and your family are getting along, and want to make sure that if I ever visit Indiana again, we can go out and get a beer and talk about old times. I'd look forward to that. How about it?

Elvis

Thank You Jesus

THE FOLLOWING IS A LETTER SENT TO ME BY A GUY I KNEW IN HIGH SCHOOL. HE POSTED "athiest? Really? Are you GAY too?" ON MY FACEBOOK PAGE.
AFTER A CURT RESPONSE FROM ME, HE REPLIED WITH THIS LETTER.

WHAT A DOUCHE.

"Sorry about the message on your wall. I am still learning this whole thing on Facebook. Forgive me for my ignorance. No need to clear your spirituality with me or the point that you hang with gay people. That would not be my point at all. I just wanted to know if you were the same [Elvis] that I was a friend with in [Our Hometown] or if you had changed. I think I got my answer. I noticed that you had lots of controversial / liberal material on your home site and had to find out if it was real feelings or if you were just trying to get attention.

BTW....atheism is a spiritual religion, and the only reason that people believe that way is to allow themselves to live their lives with no moral standards with the peace of mind that based on the atheists religion there are no moral standards. With that in mind, they don't like it when people that live their lives with moral standards point it out to them.
[Elvis], hopefully someday God will reveal himself to you in a way that you will understand, and you will come to know the truth. As a friend, I will pray for you."

MY RESPONSE:


This is my fourth attempt at a response, and I'm getting to spent re-typing it, and just getting angrier and angrier.

I'll keep it simple this time.

I have a question about your adoption of the Christian faith.

Did you get religion before or after you ran over your friend with a truck and killed him? Did it make everything okay again?

Better yet, did it bring him back?

"God's will", I guess, eh?


Gosh, what a mean thing for me to say! I guess I'm "living my life with no moral standards".


Glass houses, dude.


[Elvis]

Cheating Bastard

THE FOLLOWING IS A LETTER WRITTEN TO AN OLD FRIEND OF MINE WHO JUST FOUND OUT HER HUSBAND HAS BEEN CHEATING ON HER.  HE TELLS HER HE IS IN LOVE WITH THIS OTHER WOMAN, AND IS LEAVING (MAYBE) HER AND HER SPECIAL NEEDS DAUGHTER.  JOE (HIS REAL NAME) IS A FUCK.

What the fuck?

Just caught up with your FB feed.

WHAT THE FUCK?

Not that I know even an smidgen of the whole story, and any of this situation is none of my goddamn business, but I love you guys, even though it's been a long time since I saw you two, the news hurts. Fucking hell.

So if any of this is "stepping over the line" just tell me, and I'll shut the fuck up. My boundaries have always been challenged.

Seems like everyone is offering their help to you. And GOOD FOR YOU making it public. Some folks think that airing personal stuff like this on FB is wrong, but when it comes to a PROVEN cheating spouse, it is TOTALLY appropriate. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise. Ol Joe fucked up, and SHOULD be humiliated.

Publicly.

Without restraint.

Often.


All of that said, I've been through a whole bunch of shit dealing with relationships/marriage/etc. over the years, and have gone through a shitload of therapy in the process, so let me know if you want to unload on somebody who is of relatively no consequence who will listen to you. AND actually have something to offer in return. XXX-XXX-XXXX Anytime. Really.

Here's a little advice. If you don't want it, stop reading. Really. Skip over it, and read what I wrote for you further down. Really. It is probably bad advice anyway. Nothing is worse than assholes offering you advice when you're freaking out. Especially if you KNOW it already. Some of the stuff I'm gonna tell you is really mean-spirited too, but you'll want to hear it. Most of it sounds really mean, but, in the end, you will be glad you did it. This stuff is reality-based and just for you. It will help you if you want to REALLY take control of the whole situation until your wits are about you again. Finding out your spouse is a CHEATING FUCK will unfortunately make you lose your mind. Been there, know that. My ex cheated on me for just over a year with a WOMAN! I was...my heart was...dead.. because of it. I'm not sure I ever totally recovered from her cheating. The rest of the abuse I went through with the Ex paled in comparison to her cheating on me. It was the worst.

Take control and don't let it go. Here is a ONE MONTH PLAN:



ADVICE ADVICE ADVICE ADVICE ADVICE ADVICE ADVICE ADVICE

***************************************************************


-First, you need to tell Joe that you won't be speaking to him for a month. Tell him he's not to come around. If he comes around, you'll take the kids and disappear. You really will. Say it so he believes it. Women have a great ability to make guys believe stuff by just making eye contact and holding it. Use this.
-GO FUCK SOME REALLY HOT 20 YEAR OLD WITH A GIANT DICK IMMEDIATELY. I'm not kidding. Take a whole night. Grudge-fuck that random young guy until you can't walk. You got a free pass, use it. You will still be in control of the situation when it is over. I promise. It will also take the sting out of being cheated on. It works. It will get your head screwed on while you're getting it screwed off. If you don't remember how to seduce a random guy, it's easy. You find some guy you already know casually, and tell him the abridged version of the story. Hand him a box of condoms and tell him to fuck the shit out of you. Say these words (they are very important): "I don't want to make a big deal about this, I just want to fuck you. That's all. Just one night. Are you man enough to deal with it?" If he's young, dumb, and full of cum, he'll reply, "Yes, Ma'am!" He really will. If he passes, find somebody else. Young stupid hot guys are everywhere. I've been on both sides of this scenario, and it is always rewarding. Really. ONLY DO THIS ONCE.
-become comforatble with the idea that you will fucking hate Christmas for the next 10 years, or so. AND, Joe will NOT see the kids this Christmas. Super mean, but NECESSARY.
-change your computer account passwords. Immediately.
-EMPTY your joint checking/bank/credit accounts, save for the absolute minimum to keep the account current. Open new ones. Clean out the ones you have in CASH and hide that shit in a box. it's all yours forever. This is called "fuck you money" and you need some. Save it. Joe should be broke immediately. He should have no credit immediately. He should be locked outside in the cold soaking wet with no shoes, 'cause that's how you feel right now.
-change the locks. Sounds stupid, but it will keep you from coming home to find that Joe has come and removed a bunch of stuff from the house that is yours. BECAUSE... Now, that he's a dipshit, IT'S ALL YOURS. FUCK HIM.
-set your cellphone to "silent" with NO vibrate and stop answering it for a month. Disconnect your home line if you have one. Check the cell every couple hours (providing you are not waiting on a call for/about/from kids) for messages. Then, answer only the ones that are NOT from him. Don't listen to his messages. It will be hard, but when you hear his voice, just delete it. Otherwise, your head will not be clear in a month. Or better yet, shut your cell down, and get another one.
-have a place you can take kids at the drop of a hat 24 hours a day with no questions asked. Do this often for the next month. Go see a movie. Stay home and get drunk. Drive to Chicago and see the museums for a weekend. Whatever. Your support people (and you DO have them) will understand. After the first month, they will get bitchy, so you got one good month of "pawn off the kids so I don't take out my emotional aggression on them" pass to use. Use it. I'm serious.
-During this month, shut Joe out completely. Really. It sucks for the kids especially, but you will need that time before you will finally start talking with him. The kids will forget about it. Just keep them in the dark. They don't need to know. Daddy's working in NJ, that's all. He's very busy. Hey, it worked for kids all through the 1950's - 1970's, right? No calls, no dinner, no discussions, no email, no bullshit. He forfeited that when his penis was inside somebody else. Same goes for contact with the kids. Really. Fucking mean, but necessary. It's only a month.
-After a full month of separation (NO CONTACT AT ALL) agree to meet with him somewhere that holds no "memories" for either of you. Someplace neutral. Someplace where there is no booze. The Library is a good place because it's public, and because you have to stay relatively quiet. And, there's ample parking. Also, make sure you are not all PMS'd out for this meeting. Schedule it for a different week if possible.
-Once you meet, have divorce papers ready and UNSIGNED. Even if you still might be considering taking him back. Show them to him. Make sure he knows your ass is totally serious about divorcing him and fucking his life up. Tell him these words. "I am going to fuck your life up, get comfortable with the idea." Indiana is a GREAT state to be divorced in if you're a female. Sounds crass, but it's pretty true. If you don't believe me, ask my mom.
-learn to hold a grudge, if you don't already.
-AND, if he's as much of a shit as to muscle you out of any goddamn thing, pay somebody to break his legs. I'm totally serious about this. It should only cost you a couple of thousand dollars. Surprisingly, you won't have to look far to find somebody to cripple him. Find someone who can keep his mouth shut. Sometimes stupid guys like us only understand how much we've hurt someone when we can't walk without a cane. Ever see a guy in his 40's with a cane? He should have kept it in his pants.



**************************************************************
ADVICE OVER ADVICE OVER ADVICE OVER ADVICE OVER OVER



If you skipped that last bit, you didn't miss much. Mostly, how to cover your ass.

Now, one last bit of advice I want you to hear, so read this part:

Love is a Great thing. Notice the capital "G". Love defines our self-image, too. If you still love Joe, REALLY LOVE HIM, forgive him. Even if you divorce his cheating ass, forgive him. In fact, ESPECIALLY if you divorce. Even if he tells you that he never loved you and this other whore is the one true thing in his life, you must forgive him if you really love him. Believe me in that you will NEVER be able to truly trust anybody else fully unless you do this. Make sure he hears the words. If you REALLY REALLY TRULY love the man you married, you MUST forgive him. It is for YOU, not for him. If you don't really love him, then you can tie up all this shit in a box and burn it at a stake, dancing around it naked until it loses all its power.

It doesn't mean you need to take his lying cheating good-for-nothing ass back. Really. In fact, if you DO divorce him, he'll HATE that you forgave him. I hope you get that. This whole situation is about YOU. Embrace that idea. It is your life, HE fucked up, not you. Don't question yourself. HE fucked up. It is soooo important that you live that.

YOU are in charge of this shit.


Again, call if you need to vent. I really will listen.


Stay strong, sister.

Git 'Er Done

Yep.  I woke up this morning and thought, "Well, today's the day.  Today is the day I find a job.  Gonna get up early, have a good breakfast, a little coffee, take a shower, get to the gym, and come back to the house to spend the rest of the afternoon finding my fortune."

Here is what really happened:

  

8:00-9:00 - I woke up, and made some breakfast.  I was experimenting with using a box-recipe potatoes au gratin and add some lowfat sausage to it.  I made it up and it looked awful.  It didn't taste much better, either.  It gave me a terrible case of indigestion. 

  

9:00 - 11:00 - I checked in on Facebook and played a little Mob Wars.  Spent some time talking with my lovely wife.  

11:00 - 12:00 - Finished watching some show that I don't remember anymore, and took a shower.  Lovely Wife left for the studio.

12:00 - 2:30 - Walked to the gym, had a workout, had a sauna, took a shower.

2:30 - 3:30 - Had Chineese food for lunch with Lovely Wife.  (Today was her day off.)

3:30 - 4:30 - Came home, checked in again on Facebook.  Played Mob Wars again.

4:30 - 6:30 - Felt sick from combination of shitty breakfast and Chineese food, so I decided to take a nap.  Couldn't sleep, so I played a video game (Lego Star Wars).

7:30 - 9:00 - Fooled around on Facebook and played Mob Wars again.

9:00 - 9:30 - Wrote on this blug.

So, my point is, that I've wasted a perfectly good day goofing off.  The only thing I've done to find work is...  well, not a damn thing.  Now, my lovely wife is coming home, and I will want to watch TV with her, or something for the rest of the evening.

And here's the result:

I feel like a damn fool.  I feel like I've let myself down today, and I hate myself for it.  I feel like I deserve whatever happens to me when I'm destitute and my lovely wife kicks me out for being a bum.  I feel like I should just....  I don't know.  I'm not even motivated enough to come up with shitty things to say about myself.  Maybe that's the worst.  Feeling like I've quit myself.  Feeling like I'm not even worth feeling bad over.  Self-indifference.  That's some fucked-up shit.  That's the kind of shit that is a little dangerous.

BUT!

Tomorrow will be different.  Tomorrow I will get up early, have a healthy breakfast, go online early and NOT play Mob Wars.  I will NOT go on Facebook tomorrow, and I will complete my jobsearch by.... Noon.  After that, I will concentrate on buying food for Thanksgiving.  I will find my fortune tomorrow, for sure!

Yeah, I'll do that.  Really.  Really-really.

But now, I'm gonna watch the rest of the 1970's Incredible Hulk TV show....

Storm

When I was a kid, I used to watch a coming storm for hours.  The area of the midwest I'm from is so flat, that you could literally watch a storm arrive for 8 hours.  The sky would slowly get darker, as a storm like a battleship sailed slowly toward me, moving like a minute hand, slow, but fast enough to see if you're really looking.  Eventually, the temperature would drop, and the first sprinkles of rain would begin to fall.  The odor of the air would change and get the wood and steel smell that could mean hail.  If the sky got green, it was time to head for the basement.

During the worst storms, I would hide under a couch in our basement, and cross my fingers and toes in an effort to have luck ward off the tornado that my Dad was watching out the windows for, upstairs.  The AM radio in the kitchen would crackle with every lightning strike.  As nervous as I was under the couch, I was never really scared.  After all, my Dad was looking out for me upstairs, and drinking coffee.  He was wandering room to room looking out for the telltale swirl of a funnel cloud.  I didn't have anything to worry about, really.  But, that didn't mean I came out of my hiding place until Dad gave the "all clear".

We never got hit by a tornado.  In fact, I was fifteen before I ever actually SAW one.  It was miles away.  Maybe six or seven.  it was jumping from the clouds to the ground and up again.  After a few minutes, it split into two smaller funnels and quickly dissolved.   I remember being sad about that.  This horrible, furious tornado reduced to insignificance without doing it's god-given duty to level a trailer park.

All that said, I'm starting to feel like that ill-fated tornado.  Like I'm losing strength.  Like my fury and purpose is shrinking.  Like my spin is giving out.  I also feel like that little version of me, under that couch, crossing my fingers.  But this time, nobody is looking out for the storm.  There's no such thing as luck, and nobody is drinking coffee and listening to the news upstairs.  I'm alone and failing.

Fortunately, I'm starting to realize that I'm not alone under that furniture.  My wife is there with me too.  Just as scared as I am, but holding me tightly.   And, as long as she's with me, I'm not as scared anymore.  If we get swept up in the storm, sucked into the sky with all our stuff, at least I'll have someone to hold my hand when the twister spits us out into the night, wet and cold.

I hope she holds on tight.

Wheels...

This is one of my favorite songs...

Sorry, no post today.

Twiddling My Thumbs

What the hell am I going to do all day?   Well, apparently, I have so much free time these days that I should be able to do anything.  Today is the day I am finally bored.  I will find something to do with myself, cleaning, going to the library, maybe do a little grocery shopping, whatever.  I completed my REQUIRED job search already for the week, and am still running down a couple of leads for work, but I will be done with that by noon, certainly.  

Without an art studio for the first time in 15 years, I am going out of my fucking gourd!  I NEVER had to worry about being bored before.  I could ALWAYS go and get some painting done.  Now, I'm surrogating it with doing some writing, and so forth, but sitting in one place for so long makes me nervous, and start to hate myself.  What the hell is wrong with me?  I guess I've become one of those freaky people that when they aren't working on some kind of project, they crawl out of their skin.  When did I turn into that guy?  Goofing off used to be an art form for me...

In reality, I just want the sick feeling in my innards go away.  That sick feeling comes from watching my bank account shrink and new bills come in the mail everyday.  That sick feeling comes from realizing that "if I don't get some work soon, I'm gonna have to knock over a liquor store..."  Then, of course, I'll end up going to jail and getting ass-raped by somebody I'm not even attracted to.

Good God, I'm even considering making a list, just so I don't end up on Facebook for hours today.  The FB is VERY dangerous.  I'm having to really schedule it now in ten minute blocks three times a day because I really will spend all day on it.  It's terrible.

Okay, here I go...   Ready?  MOTIVATE!!!!!

Not Your Problem

I got this mean fucking letter from a friend today.  Let's call him "Mark".  I asked Mark for a favor yesterday regarding helping me out with my unemployment.  Without going into detail, let's just say I needed some information.  He really didn't have to do a damn thing.  Well, he decided to take it upon himself to "give me a kick in the ass" - as he called it.  Mostly, he wrote me a letter telling me what a lazy worthless mooch I was.  Now, keep in mind, my unemployment and ongoing job search is really none of his fucking business.  I mean, I'm certainly not on unemployment for my health.  With all the horseshit I've gone through screwing around with it over the past few months, I'd like to not be on it, too.  I just don't really have a choice right now.

Maybe he felt like because I asked him for a favor it was somehow "involving" him in my unemployment.  In reality, I just needed some info.  That was it.  Took NONE of his time, really.  And, in return, he totally came down on me.  Told me I was "mooching off the system" and I needed to "get off my ass".  What the fuck...   

I wrote him back and told him where he was wrong about his assumptions, and why.  I also told him I wasn't mad at him.  I'm still not sure if I am.  I might be.  After all, it is NONE OF HIS FUCKING BUSINESS, RIGHT?  I mean, I am pretty sure I've never given him any shit about any of the crap he's doing wrong in his life.  I certainly could, if I wanted.  He's just as much of a fuck-up as I am, if not more.  The guy seems to have a good work ethic.  But he's got some serious "social" problems that will eventually destroy his relationship with his fiancee if he's not careful.  BUT, I don't talk to him about it because it's NONE OF MY FUCKING BUSINESS!  He is who he is, and he's not going to change himself for me, so why bother?  Why should he?

Mostly, I think I might be mad about this because of his timing.  That letter really caught me off guard.  I initially sent off a kind of "it's funny 'cause it's true" parody of my job resume, and he answers it with a letter telling me I'm a loser.  I really didn't need that this week.  I'm having a really rough week, I've argued a couple of times with my wife, and I'm feeling super-vulnerable right now.  My bank account is dwindling, and I'm starting to get a little nervous.

I REALLY want to go back to work, but I want to find a job that will allow me to get ahead somehow.  I'm looking for more than a paycheck.  And, if all I can get is a paycheck, it better be large enough to put some away in savings.  The other reason I'm kind of "taking it slow" finding a job is that my wife and I are considering moving to another part of the country, and I'm kinda waiting to see what kind of decision we make about that before I get too far ahead of myself.  GODDAMNIT, why the fuck did he have to write me that damn letter?!  It hit me way too hard, way too far below the belt!  

Do friends do that kind of stuff?  I mean, I can see that he MAY be trying to give me a little "tough love" with the whole thing, but it sure didn't feel like it.  In my letter back to him I told him that his letter was mean.  In fact, I sounded like a complete pussy in my response, but, FUUUUCK, it hurt!   So, I've been spending the rest of the day trying to talk myself out of dropping a couple Xanax and spending the rest of the day  in bed with the covers over my head. Maybe that makes me a loser too.  It probably does.  Maybe I'm just not fucking tough enough.  Maybe I DO need to get off my ass and take any fucking job that I can get, regardless of what kind of future it holds.   I don't know.  I don't know.  I don't know.

FUUUUCKKKK!!!!

See, this is the kind of shit that makes me want to gather my dog, my wife, and move to fucking-nowhere Montana and raise goats and collect automatic weapons.   That sounds funny, but it really is what I think about sometimes.  I want to build a fucking complex on the side of a mountain someplace, Put razor wire and chain link around the whole place,  store up about 3 years worth of supplies, and blow up the access road.  Tell the whole fucking world to go to hell.  I don't care!

Great, now I'm angry at myself again....

Something From Nothing

So, I am spending my day becoming acquainted (yet again) with my Big Empty.

What this is, for those of you who have never suffered from depression, is a feeling like you are just floating through life.  Suddenly, out of the blue, you just don't give a shit about anything anymore.  Like nothing you do matters.  Like you don't matter.  Like nothing at all matters.  

The Big Empty is as terrifying as it is dangerous.  This is the time when you might get sucked into taking a few too many pills or drive on the wrong side of the road or take a walk over a bridge and imagine what it would be like to step over the edge.  Today, I'm lucky.  I'm just stuck at home with a bad cold and coughing up my lungs.  It keeps me indoors, and away from anything that would otherwise endanger me.  A little viral therapy.

Not to worry though, I'm sure I will snap back to myself again tomorrow.  I've got a lot of crap to do.  Places to be and so forth.  But, it doesn't keep me from looking into the stillness, the soul-void that I'm in today.  These are the kinds of days when I might speak the undiluted truth about stuff and not care about the repercussions.  At least the ugly truth.  See, things like love and friendship and wonder and creativity and magic don't exist in the Big Empty.  Here, pain seems to dilute everything, and giving up is a viable option.  

The absence of want bothers me.  If you've never felt this way, it's an odd feeling.  I mean, I always WANT something.  Maybe a cup of tea, maybe a snack, to watch a movie, a shoebox full of twenties, to get laid, whatever.  I'm always ready for SOMETHING.  But, today, the only thing I want to do is sleep.  To be disconnected.  I used to just drink myself to oblivion when I felt like this.  Nowdays, I just stare at the TV, and zone out.  I'm too bitter and blank to read.  I get annoyed I have to leave my bed to piss.  I secretly wonder if I could get away with going in my pants.  Even writing this blug is the most dramatic thing I've done all day, or will probably do tomorrow.

It's days like this when I wonder why I even try.  Why I care.  Who gives a shit, anyway?  This kind of self-destructive thinking is silly, I know, but it doesn't make it any easier to deal with when the Big Empty is staring you in the face with it's non-face.

Everything just seems so goddamn....unnecessary. 

Don't worry though, I'm not off my rocker.  I'm not going to "do anything".  I just wanted to well...   I don't know, really.  I just wanted to have SOMETHING to think about.  It helps. Really.

Whew!

A rush of relief swept over me last night around the time Ohio was given to Obama.   It was then I suddenly felt I didn't need to worry as much about, well, everything, as I have been.  I'm sure I'm not the only one who has had this feeling, though it is silly upon examination.  There are still things to worry about, big things.  But, for a day or two, it's nice to know that there may be light at the end of this very long tunnel that has been the Republican rule.  

Shit, Obama's like Superman right now.  And, there's no Kryptonite to be found anywhere.  Could it be that an honest man has been found in the US Senate?  Sounds too much to wish for, I know, but still.....

Am I wrong for being just plain giddy?  (I just realized that if you re-arrange the letters "plain" becomes "Palin".  Hmm...)  Am I wrong because I think it's about time that America pulled it's ginormous white head out of it's ass and did the right thing?

Unfortunately, I think we got lucky.  America's just as much of a beer-swilling, nigger-hatin', oil lovin', burger-gobblin' place as it's always been, we just managed to get the vote out.  I mean, if you didn't vote in this election, you are a fucking moron.  AND, even though the numbers of voters were higher than ever, the percentage of REGISTERED voters who actually dragged their ass down to the polls was dismal.  (I heard something like only 21% of registered voters in my state actually voted, and that was high!)  If 80% of the registered voters STILL didn't vote, what the hell does that mean???

I gotta say, though I am wanting to be lulled to sleep by Obama reading the phonebook right now, I am still frustrated with this country.  The sour grapes coming from the right have been just ugly.  While McCain was giving his "sorry I lost it for you, it's all my fault" sad-grandpa speech last night, when he mentioned Obama, people started booing!  I couldn't believe it.  Hell, if McCain had won, I would have left the country, but I'm not sure if I would have stood around at a speech and booed the poor guy.  I mean, he lost for God's sake!

Have you ever heard of the "Santa Claus Strategy"?  Well, it goes like this:  when the country has been completely screwed up by a Republican, they put up a patsy in the election (McCain) who will almost certainly lose by a slim margin.  Then, when the Democrats take the crumbling country and work their asses off on fixing it for four years (Carter), the Republicans enter the next election by saying "Are you better off now than you were four years ago?" (Regan).  Then folks say, "Well, I'm not better off now than I was, I guess I should vote for them there other guys this time".  And, then the newly (mostly) fixed government gets handed off to a new, stronger Republican who enjoys the prosperity provided for him during the previous four years while handing out LOADS of money to his buddies and business friends (Santa) until everything goes to hell eight years later (BUSH2) and then becomes a "lame duck" (Bush1 and Bush2).  So, let's hope Obama gets it right FAST, otherwise, he won't be around after the next election, and we will be looking at a "President Palin". 

 You betcha!

Losing It

The most recent thing to really freak my shit out happened yesterday around noon.

I was on Facebook (my new addiction that has kept me from blogging as much, which I need to correct...), and the computer was working fine.  Then, without warning, it just stopped functioning.  Everything froze.   So, I turned off the system, waited a minute or two, and then tried to re-start it.  It didn't come back on.  After 30 seconds or so, a blinking picture of a file with a question mark on it was flashing on the screen.

I didn't know exactly what that meant, but I instantly got a feeling of dread.  My stomach sunk, and my chest started to hurt.  

After contacting Apple, and then taking the computer to the Apple doctor, I found that my hard-drive was toast.  That's it, no warning, no fudging, no weird noises, nothing.  Just stopped working.

Soooo, the laptop was covered, so I got a new hard-drive installed, but I have successfully lost EVERY FUCKING THING ON THE COMPUTER.  I don't back shit up.  I never have.  But, I will now.  According to the tech who took a look at it, the most common problem with the Mac hard drives is that there are these freaking tiny little springs inside the hard drive that wear out.

REALLY?  FUCKING SPRINGS?  REALLY?

So, technology from the fucking dark ages has somehow lost all my pictures, business stuff, art, addresses, worksearch stuff, and everything else is FUCKING GONE because of some little springs smaller than a peppercorn.  Really?

AND, it lost all my lovely wife's stuff, too.   Which hurts me more than I can say.  I'm just SICK SICK SICK about it.  I can't even sleep over it.  I feel like I did something wrong because I was using the computer when it went kaput.  I DIDN'T DO ANYTHING!!!  But, for some reason, I still feel like kicking my own ass over this.  I don't understand.

I mean, the tech guy said that there is NO reason for why this stuff happens.  It just does.  Those little parts are only made to last a couple of years, and they expect that you will back up your hard-drive once in awhile.  Has the technology not caught up with those of us who are too lazy to live our lives NOT in love with our computer-box?

The worst part is, to get all the "lost" info off the old hard drive will cost $300-2500 to get.  I'm not even sure what they do to the damn thing to "get" the information.   My moronic understanding is that someone will have to dismantle the hard drive and get the info off the disks inside it individually.  So, there ya go.   Some BASTARD is gonna charge me an arm and a leg to "fetch" the information and laugh later to his buddies about how people pay him a STUPID amount of money for doing so little.

I'm definitely in the wrong business.

Breathe in, breath out.

Catch-Up

So, I haven't written on the blug in awhile.  Not because I've been lazy, I've just discovered Facebook, and have otherwise been addicted to it for awhile.

Also, I was out of town for awhile visiting my Grandfather in the next state over.  I stayed down there for four days.   In his empty house.  It was so quiet.   See, Grampa had a stroke three weeks ago, and he's pretty fucked up.  His entire right side is paralyzed, and he can't speak, not from the paralysis, but because his brain is fucked up.  The paralyzation is a result of the stroke, not where all the damage was actually done.

The frustrating thing is his mind is all there.  The thinking part of his brain is just as razor sharp as it's always been, but he can't form words very much anymore.  It's not like he can't talk, he gets lots of noises, and one word answers, and when he gets emotional (using the right side of his brain, the creative one) he can spit out a whole crystal clear sentence.    And, he's wearing diapers, and can't walk or get out of bed without the aid of this fucked-up lift-thing that the nurses tie him up in and pick him out of bed.  He wets himself nearly every time they use it.  It puts pressure on his bladder, and well, he's all paralyzed, so he sits in the dining room every day trying desperately to get his food in his mouth with his left hand (FYI he's right handed) spilling every other bite down his shirt, while sitting in his own urine.

So here's the kicker...ready for it?

He's in a good mood.   I couldn't fucking believe it.  I mean, maybe he just likes the attention, but to be honest, he was in a good mood the whole time I was there.  Either that, or he was "putting on a toughguy exterior" while I was there.  But, he's really not that type of guy.  I think he's too practical for that.    So, he's just taking this in stride with all the other crap he's had to deal with in his life.  Given his circumstances, I'd be ready to hurl myself on my dinner fork. And, believe it or not, he's not being given any drugs for depression or anxiety!

What a tough motherfucker.  Really.

He's just doing his thing, not bitching, he's working hard at PT, and not whining, just a little frustrated when he wants to tell you a story or a comment about something, and just can't get it out.

The way it was explained to me (and I thought this explanation worth noting here), was:  "Picture a puzzle, all completed.  Now, what if somebody came along and took a whole bunch of pieces.   Now, that's ok, 'cause you've got a whole box of replacement pieces you can use to fill those spaces back in, but, unfortunately the box they're in is the size of a footlocker, and they're intermixed randomly with 20 or 30 non-related puzzles."  What they're HOPING for with his brain, is that that box of puzzle pieces has a hole in the bottom, and all the extra puzzles will eventually spill out, leaving only pieces that are appropriate to the puzzle that is Grampa's brain.  And, that is NOT easy.  Some of his puzzle pieces will be lost forever.

So, I'm pretty bummed about this.   I am SOOOOOOOO glad I got to know the man before this all happened.  I came down a couple of times in the last year and spend a great deal of time talking with him on the phone.  See, I didn't grow up anywhere near him.  I never got to know him, really.  I only met him a few times before I took it upon myself to be a part of his life.

So, my Uncle "Bob" is being aided by a few local folks to make sure Grampa gets everything he needs and all his money is being taken care of, his paperwork, etc.  I am thankful for this, as "Bob" is not really in a position where he can really do anything.  Bob's a .....  well, he's a "dim bulb".  I say that with a great deal of respect for my Uncle.  He's always been....well...not exactly slow...but... in reality (Bob was adopted) he may have a life-long struggle with fetal-alcohol syndrome going on.  That's what I think, anyway.   He's just a big guy with a big heart and a big penchant for being emotional about everything, he isn't an angry guy and tries as hard as he can to challenge himself, but he just comes off like a dummy at every turn.  

I worry about him.  He is a very nice fellow who just can't seem to catch a break.  He has a quiet desperation that follows him like stink.

I was gonna write more about some of the crap that went down while I was there, but in conclusion I will simply list a few truisms that I learned while visiting.

1.  Some people just don't challenge themselves at all.   They are so content being stupid.

2. I never want to watch my Grandfather piss himself while being hoisted 5 feet in the air again.

3. From now on, when I want to cry, I'm going to.  Turns out, it really is okay for men to cry after all.

4. I will never ever ever ever ever ever try Meth.

5. I look damn good in cowboy boots.

6. It's okay to smile and say nothing when you're with somebody you love.

7. People should hold hands more.  I'm going to be proactive about it.  The next time I see Arya and Corwin, I'm gonna force them to sit, talk, and hold hands with me for twenty minutes, or so.  There is so much good energy in it.  It makes everybody feel the power love has.

8. Mexican is the new Black.

#9 and #10 are private, and they're just for me.  That's okay too.

One more thing: Life is so hard.  It really is.  And, sometimes, it gets so bad that it is only the habit of breathing that keeps you alive.  But, goddamn it, you're alive.  

The Smackdown!!!!!

So, I just came right to the blug for this.  I haven't even looked at another headline, or another web page since watching the FRIGGIN' AWSOME SMACKDOWN laid on McSame by the man with a plan, OBAMA!!!!

What the fuck was up with McCain referring to Obama as "that one".   Did anybody else catch a whiff of Grampy's red neck???

Yeah, I know!!!

If nobody points that out but me, I will be a surprised monkey with a skin disorder.

I thought Grampy came off sounding confused, and just...well.....old.

Now, I will go and see how the rightnicks play this off.  

SMACKDOWN!!!!! 

Do Your Doody

Jury duty today. This is almost one year to the day of my last jury duty. Though, this time, I am doing the duty in a lower court. More misdemeanors, I guess. Last time I got booted from a jury trying a man who stabbed a homeless woman in the throat. I was not picked after a short diatribe, on my part, about perception and how it is linked to identity and why our precoceptions of matters cannot help but be jaded by our own personal history. It was a fancy way of saying "I can spot a guilty man a mile away, and I know what I know."  It went well. I was the second guy booted after the first fella whose wife sat on the state surpreme court. Ha. They didn't want me. I didn't fit into their program.

I often think of my buddy's rant about the justice system when doing court-related stuff. My buddy says that "everybody's innocent". The reason for this is because our justice system is inherently flawed, and there is no such thing as a fair trial. So, as a default, everybody HAS to be innocent because the system is working against them. Interesting theory. I don't know if he's right, but it sure seems as if you have enough money or power, you don't have to live by the same rules as everybody else. I mean, look at Karl Rove, and how he thumbed his nose at a congressional subpoena.

Maybe my buddy is right. I sure know that I'd never be able to afford a lawyer. I'd have to have help if I was ever accused of anything that required a lawyer. I'd have to ask my family for money. And, depending on the charge, I may not get it. Hell, I'd probably already be guilty in their eyes. Maybe I would be, depending on the charge.

I wonder when the last time McCain served on a jury was. Does he get summoned, or are senators immune to serving. I sure know they never make it out of the pool. No lawyer in his right mind would put a senator in the box. I sure wouldn't. Too much drama.

Can you imagine being sequestered with Palin for a week? I'm sure she would insist on being the jury's foreman. You betcha!

Well, the 2nd presidential debate is tonight, and everybody's all a-twitter with anticipation. It's like survivor, but it's real. We should make them eat rats. I know McCain could eat a rat. Hell, he probably has. Maybe he still does. Maybe he chases them around on all fours, cornering them and playing with them for awhile, crippling them before he kills. mmm.....rat.

I hope Obama has the good sense not to drop a planned "zinger" tonight. He's not been ripe with them, though that doesn't mean he's not been rehearsing. I think if he manages to thwart McSame with facts, he'll be much better off. Grampy, on the other hand, will be gushing with tirades tonight. I'm sure he's been sharpening his barbed responses all week. When do you suppose he had time to do it without postponing his campaign again?

So, my prediction: McCain will be a complete ass tonight and say a bunch of defamatory stuff rooted in fantasy, and offer no real solutions for any of America's problems. Obama will try, in vain, to stick to the problems at hand, and try not to look agitated at McCain's oncoming tirade of falsities. McCain, again, will be considered the winner before the debate takes place by every right-leaning medial outlet in the country.

If you are playing at home, every time he says "mavrick" you have to drink.

Except me. Every time he says "mavrick" a part of me wants to throw up. Kinda the opposite effect.

I Want to be Wrong

Is anybody else scared?

Most of the time, I'm ready to put on my aluminum foil hat at the drop of, well, a hat.

But I've been listening to the radio and the people that talk inside it.  Today I heard lots of words like, "tragedy" and "takeover".   I heard one man call another a killer.  Right there on the radio.  What the hell is happening?  I wonder if I'm the only one paying attention sometimes.   Like I'm the only one who is managing to shovel through the ocean of media miscomprehension to see what's really going on.  Jesus, I want to be wrong.  Maybe I'm just paranoid.

Paranoids say stuff like that, right?

I discovered more money in my bank account today than I thought I should of had.   I didn't know where the deposit had come from.  I had to check my account to be sure that I didn't forget about something.  Something that will cost me another $50 that I don't have because I didn't park correctly, somewhere.   When I realized it was money I'd just "forgotten" about, it was like finding money in a coat pocket.  Or birthday money.  I actually jumped for joy.

I really feel like there are good people to hate in this world, but I'm not really sure how to do it.  Though I sure try hard enough.  It's like how you sometimes think you need to be "harder", but you taught yourself how to feel pain, somewhere.  Now you can't hate anybody.  Only their ideas.   Mindgames for fun and profit.

What the hell will happen when the lights start going off?  When rolling blackouts stop being a curiosity, and start being dangerous.   When the sirens are on just to warn people, and not to help them anymore.  When your phone is dead.

What the hell will happen when people stop showering?  When their television is nothing more than an oddly shaped heavy box in the living room.   When girls start thinking about marriage again when they're 14.  What the hell are we gonna do?

Shit, I don't know if I've ever actually been truly hungry.  What happens when the fever takes over and the diarrhea won't stop?  When it changes color.  When birds stop singing and winds blow.  I have to remind myself that I know how to fish.  You can live on fish.  Ask anybody.

What is it going to be like when the midwestern cold becomes to dangerous?  When you go outside, and it bites you.  When the wolves howl, and the men talk in whispers and drink.  When the smell of your woman is on them.

When we're always too tired to think.

What are we going to do?

Boom Goes the Dynamite

Two hours on the phone today with unemployment to tell me nothing.  The bastards sent me a letter requiring me to do all of my new job contacts "in-person".  This is confusing because they also told me I have to start searching for work "outside of my geographical location".  This sounded strange to me, but, for some godforsaken reason, the monkeys down at unemployment couldn't explain the contradiction to me.  I guess this means I am now going to have to leave Seattle on a crazy cross-country roadtrip seeking work along the way.

Maybe that's not such a bad idea.  I'd like to take a trip.  I need to go down and see my Grandfater.  I could look for work in his town.  Though, I don't know if I'd ever actually take a job there.  His town is not exactly small, but it's filled with small-town people, if you get my drift.  If you don't, its because what I'm really trying to say is that his town is filled with ignorant redneck mouthbreathers who cling to their religion and guns.  Really.

Speaking of mouthbreathers, Sarah Palin's big VP debate/debut is tonight.  I thought of blugging during the debate, but I would have a hard time paying attention.  I'll probably mention something in passing later in the week.  What a tool that bitch is.  She's even more of an open sore on the Republican party that Dick Cheney is.  (There's a joke there about Dick and open sores, but I can't put it together right now.)

Sarah should do alright as long as she keeps her mouth shut and stays on topic.  Gwen Ifill is a pretty AWESOME lady (I was hoping she would take over Tim Russert's job.  She still might), and I hope she puts the screws to 'ol Sarah.  I'd love to see her get all "In what respect Charlie?" nasty and bitchy with Gwen and then Gwen would hand her the smackdown.  That would be great.  Gwen Ifill could totally take that moosehunting slag.

My prediction?  Realistically, they both are going to stay on topic as much as possible.  They will both keep their answers short and sweet, and stick to their talking points.  At some point, Sarah will not answer a question directly, and Gwen will call her on it, demanding "specifics".  And Sarah will change the subject in her answer.  Sarah will also be demeaning towards Obama, and bring up OLD talking points that everybody knows are horse-shit.  At the end, folks will say that they were "amazed at Sarah".  They will say this because it's the first time they have ever seen her speak in a debate format, and it's new.  Keep in mind Sarah (and Joe for that matter) have been rehearsing this debate for quite a while, and are both on game.  So, if Sarah manages to limp through the debate unscathed, she will be labled "a winner" by the republicans.  Even though, every instant-poll will claim Joe was the winner.  The same thing that they did during the last presidential debate.

After the last prez debate, I went online only seconds after the final words were broadcast, and a few righty newspapers across the country had already declared McCain the winner.  It was pathetic.  They had posted their comments before the damn debate was even over.  What the fuck?  So, if you want to know who won, just watch the fucking debate and decide for yourself.

Man I hope Gwen just smacks Sarah upside the head.  Boom! Goes the dynamite!

Like my Bowels, But With More Tape

Moving sucks.

My neck hurts, my back hurts, my legs hurt.  Basically, I hurt all over.

And, all because I took a property I would only have for four months.  It's funny, I don't remember putting all that crap in the studio space I rented.  It just kind of  "gathered" over those four months.  Kind of like dirty laundry.  The floor starts out totally empty, and the next thing you know, you don't have any clean underwear.  And your socks all itch.

Between the stuff that went to storage, and the stuff that went to goodwill, and the stuff I sold, and the stuff I gave away, I STILL have a whole bunch of crap that I'm taking to the dump tomorrow.

I have too much "stuff".

Since Lovelywife and I are getting ready to move sometime in the next quarter, I'm trying to get rid of all our crap.  There's so much of it.

Then, there's the stuff I won't be able to get rid of.  Like my old computer monitor.  I mean, I got it for free out of somebody's yard.  I never realized what kind of favor I was doing that person.  It's damn expensive to get the things recycled.  And we have two TV's that will be useless after they change over the TV's in February.  I guess we could by two "boxes" to continue getting a signal, buy I'm too cheap.

I also have waaaaay to many clothes.  Even after I got rid of all my fat clothes.  Maybe I shouldn't have gotten new skinny clothes at goodwill.  It was just too easy to buy really cheap loud shirts!   

Man, I really am a cheap bastard.  Buying clothes at goodwill?  Bitching about recycling?   Maybe I should just......Just.......

I don't know.  

Geeze, my back hurts.

Worlds Apart

Well, I think I won the court case.  But not really.  I DID get the fee I was supposed to pay back to unemployment reduced from around $2300 to just over $500.  So, I guess that puts me in the win column.  On the other hand, I poked the unemployment monster with a stick, and now it wants to bite me.  I got a letter today that said my job search requirements for each week would change.  NOW, instead of sending 3 potential employers my resume each week, I have to personally go in and fill out a resume at three different places.  Which means, I am now the  "Can I get a resume?" guy.  

Which, I hate.

Most of the jobs I really want (at the level I am trying to find work at) do NOT want to be contacted in person.   Which means, if I find a job I really WANT, it most likely won't be a viable job-search log entry.  No biggie.  Really.   Just more of a pain in the ass every week.

Actually, I don't think I've ever found a good job by filling out a resume.  It seems  there are two work worlds.  The one for people who fill out resumes and the ones who get their work through the good 'ol boy system, or by word of mouth.

Of course, with my work history and the amount of bad jobs I've held, I may be better off filling out a resume.  Maybe I'm part of that world.  

I think I may have just made a breakthrough!

Raw End of the Deal

Had the phone-in court thingy today.   It went......well it went.    I really don't know what to think.  I made my case calmly and without too many "and..um.."s, but I still think I'm gonna get screwed in the long run.

The truth is, the unemployment people gave me wrong information, and the gambit is so difficult to run without a great deal of stress, that by the time I finally got to somebody who could make a real decision as far as the state was concerned, I was totally burnt out on the whole thing.  Then, to my surprise, the person who heard the case, get this, HAD NO EXPERIENCE OR FIRSTHAND KNOWLEDGE OF THE LAWS AND RULES REGARDING UNEMPLOYMENT.   Now, I know what you're thinking, "What???"   And, that's exactly what my response was.  Turns out these cases are heard by lawyers that are acting judges, because they are required by state law to do a certain amount of pro-bono work for the state each month or year.  (Maybe you can shed some light on this, Murph)  Anyway, the "judge" asked so many questions regarding the rules of unemployment in the state, that I was dumbfounded.  Hell, I KNEW more about the law in this circumstance that she did.  AUUUUUUUGH!!!

So, I will know her decision in around two weeks.  Right now, I think it will most likely be a "split the baby in half" kind of ruling.  I probably will have to pay back the state for the weeks that I had students (2) and will not have to pay back the rest of the money.  So, I'm probably gonna be out $520 instead of the $2380 that they wanted me to pay back.  So, it will HOPEFULLY be a win-win for everybody involved.  At least, that's the decision I would make as a judge.  Of course, I would have brushed up on my knowledge of Unemployment Law before hearing a case, but that's just how I am.  

On the negative side, I really felt that during the hearing I was being "ganged up on" by the unemployment rep. and the judge.  One of those situations (and, yes, I'm playing this card) where two girls are ganging up on one guy.  Normally, this kind of situation would be a turn-on, but instead, I felt very manipulated.  Because I was a guy.  Really.  Had I been female, I'm not sure either one of these ladies would have been so nasty throughout the hearing.  They both seemed like they had a huge chip on their respective shoulders, and were just waiting for me to lose my cool so they could just jump all over me.   I never gave them the chance, but it didn't help that they were so "short" with me throughout.  I felt like they both were working together to "catch me in a lie".   It was kind of rediculous.  I'm gonna see if I can get the transcripts, or the recording for the hearing.  I'd like somebody else to hear it.

Either way, if I get screwed, I can probably get one more appeal.  The next decision will be based on just the tape from this phone hearing, so I will not have to appear again.  I'm not sure I could go through that again.

I'll let you know here what the final verdict was.

Keep your fingers crossed.

Your Phone, the Law, and You

DA-DUM DUM!....rat-tat-tat-tat.....DA-DUM DUM!

Yes, I go to court tomorrow.  Actually, I'm not going anywhere.   I'm staying at home and CALLING into court.   Turns out, that when you have a beef with unemployment, you have to call in to have your dispute settled by a judge.

I'm not sure if I like this.    I think I might have rather appeared.  I'm saying that now, but I'm not sure if my nerves would handle it.  I mean, I haven't done anything wrong, I was nailed to the wall by an anonymous letter via web to the state (i.e. my cowardly and petty ex-boss), and after HOURS and HOURS of dealing with this bullshit, I will finally be able to actually talk to someone who makes a difference.  Somebody who can say, in an official position, "Yes, Jason, you were not at fault here.  Seems like you were getting screwed by the system, and we apologize."  Think that will really happen?  Probably not.   Hopefully, they will determine that I would INDEED have taken a reasonable position,  had I been offered one, instead of persuing my little summer program.  

I'm so friggin' beside myself with anxiety about this whole thing.  What the fuck?

Why am I falling apart over this?

It's like I'm at a point where dealing with anything in an "official" capacity just freaks me out to the point of crying myself to sleep in a fetal position in the center of my bed with the covers pulled over my head.

I hope I win this appeal.  If not for just the anxiety to be let off my shoulders.  Even if I lose, I can rant on the state being unfair.  I will be totally broke, and I will have to try and borrow some money to keep paying rent so wife and I don't get fucking evicted because I don't even have any money to spare if I have to pay BACK the unemployment I got.  What a fucking racket.

Seriously!

That's all for today, I'm making so many typing errors because my fingers are shaking.  I don't want to type anymore.

Oh, and go see "Burn After Reading", it's a blast.

Anybody Out There?

Maybe one of the reasons I'm really liking writing this blug is because it give me a chance to bitch about stuff.  Not that anybody really cares about any of this crap (because they probably don't), but it gives me a chance to blow off steam that I really don't like to keep inside.  Isn't that the purpose of these blugs?  Kind of like a diary that folks can read if they happen to know where to find it?

I guess there's many other reasons to spend time writing these.  My friend Ayra reads it at least.  Apparently, nobody else does.  I've shared the link with just a few people, but I've not heard back from any of them, so I imagine that Arya and perhaps the fabled Murph are the only ones reading.

Either way, I got some stuff to bitch about today.....hooooo boy!

So, as stated in an earlier blog, my doggy was sick, so I took him to the vet today.  Acutally, in hindsight, I'm glad I did, because I have a lot less (maybe...) to worry about now.  What I found out was the huge lump in doggy's mouth has probably been there for a long long time, and I just now noticed it.  Which sounds strange, but I really don't spend a lot of time looking at the roof of my dog's mouth. 

What I did find out is that doggy's hips are afflicted with arthritis.  I knew this already, but vetguy said it was much worse than I thought.  Not much I can do except give him supplements and pain pills.  Hmmm...  My dog is going to be a junkie.

I was afraid (after reading a bunch of stuff online) that he had some sort of mouth tumor, and whipped myself into a stress/freakout/black hole thinking that my dog may die a horrible and wasting death from mouth cancer (the 4th leading cancer dogs have, actually).  So, I was freaking out and my lovely and talented and wise wife told me to just knock it off, because it could be anything, and I was just freaking her and me out for no reason.

So, I went to the gym and pummeled myself into emotional equilibrium.  (I've found working out is a GREAT way to get rid of my anxiety.  I just get so tired that I don't care anymore.)

Anyway, when I got back to the house, the mail had come and my request for an appeal of the denial of my claim for unemployment came.  In english, that means I got a time to meet with a judge so he can over-rule the decision made from unemployment to make me pay back all the money they've paid me.   For those of you who are not Ayra, somebody sent an "anonymous" complaint to the state saying that I was working while getting unemployment.  To make this short, that was wrong, and the state said I needed to pay back all the money I got.  I am appealing, and hope to win.  You'll know if I do, I'll either bitch about it or gloat here.

ANYWAY, when I was reviewing the information, I found it included a copy of the original "anonymous" complaint.  Since this was filed online, it was typed.  HOWEVER, the person who filed it accidently put in THEIR zip code instead of MINE.  This isn't a reason to get all freaked out, but, GUESS WHAT?  The zip code that was in the text was the zip of MY EX-BOSS!!!!

Have you ever put in YOUR zip accidently?   I do it all the time.  Stupid mistake, asswipe.

So, I thought I knew it was him.  But, this proves it.  The zip area is VERY small, and he's the ONLY person I know there.  So, I'm sure it was him.  I wonder if that ass-fuck-smarmy-shitheel knows how much aggravation and stress he has put me through?  He probably doesn't.

I was going to add something else here, but I won't.  Yep, typed a whole other paragraph here, but decided to remove it.   Yep.

So, my bitching is over now.   I feel a lot better.  

On a positive note, I made up with my friend "Joe".  We never really talked about the fight we had.  I just didn't speak to him for two weeks, and then, like guy friends do sometimes, just picked up where we left off without making a big deal about it.  I was mad.  Now, I'm not.  Still not forgiving him for missing my skydive though.  That's his guilt, now.

Thanks for reading my complaints.  If you are reading this, and are not subscribed to this blug, do so now.   It would be nice to see if there is anybody listening.

Not Much

I don't really have anything to say today.  I just wanted to post this picture.  Hopefully, somewhere someone will see it and realize that, "Y'know?  That Sarah Palin really IS a dumb bitch!"

I don't hate women.  Just her.

Puppy Pimps

My dog is sick.

Fortunately, He doesn't get sick ever, so it's not something I usually worry about, and if he does get sick, usually I know what to do, and don't go to the vet.   In fact, I don't get shots for him, either.  Before you get all bitchy about that, I don't kennel him, I don't let him get in contact with sick dogs, and there hasn't been a case of rabies in a domestic animal in this state since 1953.  My dog is 14 and a half years old, and has been "sick" only two(?) times.  So, I'm doing something right.  

And, he's in good shape now.  He's just old.  

So, today, I notice that he has a HUGE hot spot on the base of his tail.  I haven't seen him chewing on it, though he's sometimes smarter than me, so maybe he's doing it secretly.  Either way, I decided to give him a good check-over. Sometimes, when his winter under-coat is coming in, he'll chew on himself.  When I looked in his mouth, I noticed (again) a bad tooth he has right in the front of his mouth.  I have seen this before, but it wasn't wiggly, or I would have pulled it myself (I'm a farm-boy, I can do this stuff.  It's not hard).  

Anyway, I took a peek at the bad tooth again, and noticed a swollen abscess behind the tooth.  It's infected, and can potentially kill said doggy.  

So, I called the vet, as I don't really want to deal with the abscess myself, and am willing to pay a couple of hundred dollars to have vet take care of it.

Well, after talking with SEVERAL airhead receptionists at a variety of vets in this damn town, it looks like the act of pulling one TINY EASY-TO-REACH tooth will (after everything) end up costing me around $700.  

!!! Yeah, I know!!!!

The problem arises out of the vets (all of them) wanting to put doggy "under" for the procedure.  As I said before, doggy is old, and his risk of DYING while having his tooth pulled is greater than it is for younger dogs.

So, I don't want him to be put under.  IT MAY KILL HIM.  REALLY!

JESUS!  You would have thought I said I beat my dog to these people.  They were all totally snotty to me, and tried to dump me off the phone as soon as I mentioned it.

Now, maybe it's because the rural agricultural area I come from.  Maybe it's just common sense.  Or, hear me out, it's because vets are a racket.

I know these guys want to help animals, and go to school and all that shit, but I remember pulling teeth on animals back home at the vet for under $50.  You told the "country vet" you needed a tooth pulled on the dog, and the vet took out a pair of clean pliers and grabbed the tooth and yanked it before the dog knew what was going on.  Dog yelps, tooth hole bleeds, dog is happy 30 seconds later when it gets a soft treat.  You give doggy some antibiotics for a week, and everyone is happy.  

Instead, I have to make an appt. to have a "checkup" and a complete oral exam.  Which means I pay for doctor time, labs of his kidneys and heart, and an office visit.  Then, I schedule a "surgery day" for doggy, drive back for the appt., pay for ANOTHER office visit, pay for MANDATORY knock-out of dog, pay for "oral surgery" and then pay for drugs for doggy.  

What the fuck?

Just pull the damn tooth and gimme some pills.   I don't care if my dog feels the sharp and painful tug of his tooth getting ripped out.  His memory doesn't last that long and he's not going to blame me.  In the long run, he'll be happier because the pain from his mouth isn't there anymore, and he won't give a flying doggie-fuck who did it or how.

Before you get all bitchy about this, and all "well, if you love your dog, there are responsibilities, and you have to....."

Yadda yadda fuck you.

Here's the racket:  I also called a human dentist today and told them I had an abscessed tooth I needed pulled.

Local anesthetic, tooth pulled the same visit, antibiotics, and even Valium = $600 cash.

Yep, that's right.  It is less to have an abscessed tooth pulled from a human than my dog.  And less time.  And I don't need to be put under.  

What the fuck?

Oh, and before I forget to mention it, Sarah Palin is a bitchy redneck ignorant cunt who should be feared for the fascist tool she is.   Just thought I'd mention that.

The Numbers Game

I went to the doctor a week and some change ago, and have been waiting patiently for the results of my labs.  I finally got them yesterday, and was thrilled to learn that I'm succeeding in my efforts to reclaim my health.   

This little visit to the doctor was an important one, as it needed to justify me staying off the type 2 diabetes drug I was on.  My numbers (my A1C) was low enough to get off the drugs six months ago, but since I haven't been on the drugs, I was really afraid that they would have risen past the point where I would need to get back on the 'betis pills.  HOWEVER, I am proud to report that my attention to diet, exercise, refusal of booze (save for my birthday), have paid off in spades, and I have actually dropped that number from 6.1 (while I was on the pills) to 5.6 (off the pills).

Now, that's not to say that I can go back to my cheeseburger and a six-pack for lunch ways.  It just proves to me that I've thwarted this beast for now, but it's still hiding in it's proverbial cave to spring out on me and devour my pancreas if I fuck up my heath again.

Here's where I talk about weed:

I think smoking marijuana saved my life.  (Quit laughing!)  When I decided to make a real life change, one of the things I was concerned about was not drinking.  I mean, I drank a lot.  Every day.  For a long damn time.  When it was time to toss the bottle, I picked up the potpipe more often to help me deal with not drinking.  It worked.  Turns out, I'd rather smoke the weed than drink the beer.  I've also found that it calms my mood enough on a daily basis so that I got off the anti-depressants I was on, hardly ever have anxiety attacks anymore (so, I'm not taking the Xanax either), and focus better on job tasks, clean my house more, read more, watch more movies and less TV.   Also, I'm never hung-over so getting to the gym every other day is totally do-able.

So, if you're currently whining about how short-sighted I am, and how this is just substituting drinking for another vice, and how maybe it's working now, but later I'll pay the price for being stoned so much....yadda, yadda....   If you're thinking that....well, fuck you.  I found something that is working.   My doctor even told me that if it's working, not to change it.  I'm seeing him regularly, and he's checking out all my "numbers" for my heart (never healthier), my kidneys (improving with my diet), cholesterol is low (THC reduces cholesterol), and so on and so on and so forth.  Proving that, in my case (and that's the only one I give a damn about), smoking the Maryjane has been a good thing.

So, I'm gonna keep smoking the weed.  I like it, and it's keeping my nose clean enough to keep me alive and out of a diabetic coma, so fuck you.  We all got some kind of crutch we lean on to keep us from devouring our own soul with the daily bullshit and keeping everything from spinning wildly out of control.  My crutch is actually pretty normal.  I haven't adopted some fucked-up religion, or bought a ridiculous convertible, or cheat on my wife (no way, no how), I smoke a little weed and go to the gym.  Not so bad.  

Usually, I wait until everything is done for the day, all my to-do's have been checked off.  I've made dinner for wifey, she's in her pj's and happy, the dog has been walked, the dishes done, and the phone is turned off.  Then I get some serious levels of high.   My wife (who doesn't really do the weed) likes to mess with me a little when I'm high, but it's cute, and she loves me, and I trust her, so no worries.

What is the big fucking deal, anyway?

I'm healthier than I have been since I was 18.  Maybe more.  I'm happy too.  Just a little stoned sometimes.  Nobody is getting hurt.  Not even me.

So, if you have a problem with the weed, fuck right off.

Fair Fare

You can't eat well at a state fair.  

It's not fair at all.

Went to the Washington State Fair yesterday and fell off the diet wagon completely.   Sure, I'm going to climb, ashamed, back on it today, but I don't feel good about it.

When my lovely wife and I decided to gallivant off to the fair yesterday, I thought, "I'm sure there will be some good food there.  After all, folks are more health-wary these days.  Nope.  Fried dough, ice cream, and corn-dogs up the ying-yang.

My wife who has no desire or medical need to follow a strict diet regiment immediately opted for a corn-dog.  I followed suit, reluctantly.  (Who am I kidding?  I paid for them and nearly chewed the stick in half.)  I thought, "Well then, that's my diet-sin for the day....What's that over there?  Bratwurst?  MMMMMMMmmmmmm........bratwurst.....

So, a corn dog, a brat, a glass of lemonade, two diet sodas, a bite of my wife's funnel-cake, and ANOTHER corn dog later, I decide to get a strawberry ice cream cone.  Keep in mind, I haven't eaten shit food like this in awhile, and certainly not in this capacity.  You might think I threw up.  You would be wrong.  You might think I got the hershey-squirts, and you'd be wrong, as well.  WORSE:  I actually lost two pounds.

Now, that two pounds can be written off to a big heathy dump, or water weight, or normal daily fluctuations in the body, or whatever.

The problem is, it tricks me into thinking that it's okay if I cheat on my diet.  I don't want it to be okay.  I want to think that eating like that will kill me.   It damn near did.

Those folks reading this who know me, understand that I've lost around 90 pounds in the last 18 months, or so.   I got diagnosed with type 2 diabetes, and have been fighting the good fight for awhile now.  I'm off all my meds, I look great, feel great, my life is changing in leaps and bounds in good directions, and I've embraced my inner madman.  Things are going well.

Then, I find out that I lost 2 pounds eating crap.  Now, it seems as if all the effort is for naught.

Realistically, I know it's not, but will that help me the next time somebody waves a plate of fries in my face?  My buddy I'm going to see later today is already starting to talk about "let's get a pizza this afternoon", and I'm like, "Yeah! With sausage!"

I suck.  Gonna be one of those days.  Fucking state fair food and all it's yummy greasy goodness.....