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A moment of disillusionment from an old Gaymer
Entry 04/06/2013 07:21:28 AM – Mentat 684
“In a democracy dissent is an act of faith. Like medicine, the test of its value is not in its taste, but in its effects.” – J. William Fulbright
While yesterday was one of those sort of days where I was up and about more than sitting down and calm, I had an incident that gave me a bit of humor and a lot of pause. During one of those interludes while C was off with friends, I decided to play a bit of Star Trek Online because I needed to grind a bit of Dilithium and it’s a fairly good way of adding a bit of routine (and order) to an otherwise jittery day. Here is a bit of the back story to this to understand where I’m coming from in this.
I had left the Fleet that I had been part of because of a difference of opinion on what can and cannot be talked about and me having a problem with anyone censoring individuals or a group, took exception when one particularly conversation (that wasn’t in the least bit offensive) was being censored by some rather loud detractors. So, I went on the market to find another Fleet that I could dump my excess materials, equipment, monies and what have you… and went in search of other gaymers. The largest of the LGBT fleets that I had come across was Stonewall Fleet, so much so that they had their own chat channel within the game that I could configure and join. I remember doing so (configuring and joining the chat channel and perhaps later on, the fleet) with the intent of getting a feel of the people before. Sort of a try before you buy, as the saying goes.
About a week or two into watching and then later interacting with the chat, I got into my first scuffle with a bunch of the more uptight folk in the group. I made a comment about leaving for Star Wars: The Old Republic to troll the kids there, and they got offensive about it. Sure, I know I worded it wrong and made the mistake of assuming that people would understand my nature given I often snarked folk in the week I had been actively chatting, but they went on the attack saying it’s wrong. After 30 minutes of my explaining why I do what I do (I only troll kids that are being tits. After all, I work on the belief, if you’re going to be a tit, you’re going to be treated as such). Only one of the more aggressive understood why I was the way I was (even if he didn’t condone it), while the rest were remaining on the offensive. Basically doing precisely what I do for the reasons why I do it, and denying their nature in the process.
At that point, I decided I was going to remain a free agent and not join their fleet and waited out for better offers.
I did get that better offer from a good acquaintance in Ireland (no, not you Glenn) who had also left the fleet we had been part of because of differences in play styles with the management there and ended up joining a rather nice bunch of folk from the fleet of LaFamilia (otherwise known as “The Family”). I tagged along because I have a good rapport with the smarmy git and the fact that he generally knows how to pick them even if things fall through at a later time. Though I kept Stonewall Fleet Chat active because I wasn’t sure what the mix was with the Fleet, and admittedly it’s nice to be able to chat, be camp, and generally light with folk that can understand some of the humor I’ve come to appreciate (and am familiar with).
Then comes last night. I was in a fairly good mood, I wanted to grind a bit. The queerfolk where in their usual sort of high spirits mood. There was a bit of camp, and a bit of heckling going on. I sort of made a couple of comments, but paid more attention to the grinding for Dilithium that I was doing. And then it hit me while I was heading towards the Asteroid Mine that there was something happening on Bajor. Some sort of gathering. Several of the folk were making cutesy comments that the “speechifier” was going to be speechifying.
I was mining on the Asteroid, and there it was in it’s full and vomitus glory… The leader of the Stonewall Fleet was prattling on like a politician running for a term in office.
I said something about being a politician’s son and that the last thing that should be going on is any sort of aggrandizing grandstanding in a public chat. That it’s better to get to the point.
The leader of the fleet send a scathing whisper to me accusing me of being disrespectful and that he would mute me if I continued.
For one brief moment, I thought about copying & pasting that comment to the Public chat calling out that I must’ve hit a nerve if this “speechifier” is making threats in private. But then I thought twice about it, knowing full well of doing such a thing would cause instantaneous flaming both from the leader as well as whatever quiet spectators were sitting there watching.
In the meantime, several of the fleet called me a “d-bag” for being so “disrespectful”.
I shot back quickly that I’m not a douchebag, and clarified that I generally am good to get along with except when someone is being a grandstanding blow-hard. I went on further to say that he should get to the point as this is a game, not a platform for a political campaign.
The leader went on to say something about “welcoming diversity to the fleet.”
To which I countered, “except when that opinion is dissenting” and got myself banned from their happy little chat.
Admittedly I didn’t realize that I was banned. It had simply gone quiet and I had assumed that the lot of them had moved whatever long-winded speech that was going on to Ventrilo. But after a brief respite from the game, going to chat with C for a bit before he headed to bed and coming back to finish off the grinding and the Duty Officer Missions that I wanted to queue up, realized that it had been too quiet for that Stonewall Fleet’s chat channel. So when I went to look for the channel information, my access to it had been removed. When I tried to re-join I had been denied.
I laughed in LaFamilia’s fleet chat and told them the story, including the banning. There was a bit of chat, and a bit of explaining, but overall at the time before I headed to bed I found it sardonically funny. So did the members of my fleet (though they were a bit confused about how I pulled of being part of 2 different fleet chats).
This morning though? I’m finding it sad. I mean here we are in the 21st century, and what I saw of the leader of this group and the repercussions of my actions to be antiquated. This is something I would’ve expect in the 80s and not now. After all, diversity as it has been taught to me is to accept the good and the bad of the community. It means that sometimes, we’re going to encounter people of an opinion that is completely counter to our own.
I had learned through my years of wandering the planet that a good leader (not to mention a strong one), will be able to roll not only with those of like mind, but also those of an opinion completely counter to their own. To be able to address the group as well as the hecklers, in a way that can bring them all together. Well, sometimes anyway. There are just some that are impossible to please.
This leader of this group however, isn’t one of those that could be qualified as a good leader. If anything, he’s one of the most common of the “leaders” I’ve seen since my days on IRC.
So as I continue to write this entry, I recalled a lot of the familiar patterns of seeing this in the 23 years of being online. The cliquishness of gay men’s (and sometimes even lesbian) groups. The hair-trigger attitude of dissenting voices to whatever the head of the group encounters them. The banning/removing/ostracizing of whatever dissenting voice that comes up — automatically assuming that dissention is equivalent to “the enemy”. That this was typical of someone that has been bullied and picked on that created a power base of being their own Queen of Hearts in their own little kingdom.
Sitting here now, it raises the question: Have we as the abused (from years of being put down for being gay) become the very thing we hated? The abuser? That in our striving for equality, have we lost our ability to understand the very tolerances we’re demanding from others?
I hope not. Because if we have, this is going to be a very dark day in the future when (and if) we get those equalities we’ve been fighting for, all these years.
Anyway, I’m off for the time being. Time to watch a bit of television, make lunch and have a moment or two of peace. Until the next time.
Here’s a few of my “favorite” things…
Entry 03/18/2013 07:37:53 AM – Mentat 682
“The moment we choose to love we begin to move towards freedom…” – Bell Hooks
Once again I’m aware of the fact that it’s been a number of weeks since I’ve last written. And while it’s no excuse for it (even if I’m feeling the need for it), truth be told it’s only been recently that there’s anything that’s been truly newsworthy enough to sit down and write a journal entry. I mean sure, there’s been quite a lot of niggling things going on, but it’s not as though I need to sit down and write every time that it occurred; the problem with that it is that I often have such entries turning out more frivolous than necessary. But now, yes… As I said, there’s events to talk about.
First things first is that the douchebag that had been living below me has finally moved his “the world owes me everything” ghetto ass out of the apartment. Since just before Christmas I’ve had to put up with rap and urban music from about 9 in the morning until 9 in the evening — sometimes even later depending on whatever the hell was going on between him and his on-again/off-again girlfriend/wife/whatever. Then there’s the fighting that the two of them would have going on at all times of the day and night. There were more times than naught dealing with police out in front of the house in equal measures between them and the downstairs couple next door. And it seems that last week even the police showing up here for the third floor men last Thursday, but I’ve yet to get the details on that the last couple of days. Oh, and let’s not forget the amount of noise his two kids used to make at 5 – 5:30 in the morning banging with the cribs or on the walls because they were bored and wanted to get up. It was enough to wake me up before my morning alarm and I’m considered a heavy sleeper. Then there was the noise from them during the weekend where I swore heavy pieces of furniture were being thrown around the apartment. At first I thought it was fighting, until I take my earbuds out and realize that I can hear the little rug-rats screeching with glee that I realized that they were playing. Believe me, I called the cops a couple of times and while they would quiet down for a day or two, the noise would return unabated. Eventually I gave up and kept to myself waiting patiently given that my landlord told me that they were moving out a couple of months earlier.
Then there’s the amount of garbage the two first floor apartments used to generate. All right, I’m one person and I’m lucky to generate a bag of garbage every 6 or so weeks. Usually a bit more during the summer because I don’t want fruit flies buzzing about the garbage and the house. The Guatemalans upstairs and the asshole next door can usually generate about a bag of trash a week or two. However, between the two families downstairs, both with two kids each, they would generate six garbage cans full each week! Seriously I don’t even remember when Jon and I were young seeing that much garbage going out the door like what these two downstairs would generate each! And to make matters worse — both of them are frelling pigs. Neither of them really tie up the bags when they threw them out and if any of the garbage fell out onto the ground — including soiled diapers — they would leave it wherever it fell on the ground. I even had to give up complaining about that given the landlord did nothing about discussing the issue with them, or he simply gave up because they would give him flack and do it anyway. And direct confrontation did nothing as well. If anything they would generate more trash on the ground in spite of Jim, Julian (the upstairs neighbors that no longer live here) and I throwing it into their part of the first floor hallway to get their attention.
As I understand it, the other couple on the first floor are supposed to be moving out soon. While it will put a financial burden on the apartments here, at least I’m hoping the amount of garbage I’ve been seeing on the ground since the two of them have been here should lessen. Not to mention less police visits for disturbing the peace and domestic violence… Although given what I’ve been seeing going into the basement this weekend, I get the impression that they’re not moving like they said they would be. If anything it seems more of their garbage is being moved into the basement like it’s their own personal storage space. I’d hate to break the news to them but that’s not how it’s going to work here given that a majority of the douchebag’s (the next door douchebag) paintings that he tried to store in the basement were moved out thanks to fire code violations.
Then there’s the serious WTF moment up the street at Amherst. A week or so ago, I put the barrels out there and come back the next morning to see that one of them had in fact been stolen. Telling the landlord this, he says something about it possibly being taken into one of the apartments for cleaning (yeah, I’m having problems imagining that this is the case, but stay with me here). A day or so later at the other apartments on Tuxedo seem to have had some sort of fight and decided to throw one of the roommates out. This also involved about 30 bags of trash in the process most of which ended up going into the trash cans for both Tuxedo and Amherst and including one of the recycle bins in the process.
Seriously they were told that the recycle bins were just that, but did that stop the 20-somethings from doing what they did? Of course not. And further, looking at this sort of thing coupled with the idiots here at my apartment, I’m beginning to feel really old and crotchety because it seems that it’s selfish, self-centered 20-somethings that think they can make up their own rules as they see fit. It makes me wonder whether they were actually raised to be responsible or are they just that stupid not to know any better because they run on the belief that “it’s not theirs”. In either case, I’m in no mood to be cleaning up their mess and there’s positively no amount of money in the world that will have me sorting out other people’s trash because they’re too stupid to know any better. And if there is a possibility of my doing it, I would be charging a month’s rent per clean up; because that’s how pissed off I’d be having to clear up other people’s stupidity (and selfishness) with their trash and recycling.
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As for me… Well, I’m having breakfast, listening to my coffee maker sputtering as it tells me in its own way that the coffee is done brewing and watching a couple of shows that I’m finding myself having a difficult time trying to watch. It seems that I’m finding it more and more difficult to sit here and watch the shows that I used to enjoy watching. At first I thought that it was a personal problem, but I’m more than happily cutting through the various gay-related soap operas clips that I watch on YouTube for hours at a time. No, it’s more the fact that the writing in at least two of the shows that I’m still watching is becoming more and more… vapid. The stories seemed, rushed… contrived… Not to mention extremely predictable… And lack the sort of elements that I like watching.
Hell, take Arrow for example. The more than I watch Stephen Amell playing the role of Oliver Queen — the more I see that he was picked not for his acting ability, but for his chest, washboard abs, chiseled jaw and piercing blue eyes. The more he acts, the more I see just how bloody empty he is. Acquaintances and people on Usenet are telling me that it was a character development problem and that it was slow at the beginning. I disagreed vehemently stating that he was better when he was secretive and calculating and that if anything they’re dumbing down his character in order to make his partner Diggle (played by David Ramsey) look more wise. Dumbing down never works with me and I get off-put by the story faster than you can say, “Oi! Skinny man!”
And then there’s Kristin Kruek in Beauty and the Beast… When they finally got rid of the sexual tension and made Katherine kiss Vincent she’s become a quivering stupid mess. Watching the most recent episode “Any Means Possible”, they making Katherine too doe-in-the-headlights like and adding way too much “catch the beast” dragnet drama. Especially with Sendhil Ramamurthy as the ADA out to catch Vincent. It’s like the time JJ Abrams and his two other ass-monkeys (otherwise known as Orczi and Kurtzman) did to Jennifer Garner’s character — Sydney Bristow — in Alias the instant that she slept with Michael Vaughn (played by Michael Vartan). They basically turned her from super agent able to take on SD-6 and the world into.. W-O-M-A-N: an agent incapable of independent thought and action without the approval of the man that she’s opened her legs for. I’m feeling like I want to bail on the Beauty and the Beast because of this (like I did with Alias when they jumped the last shark that I could tolerate for season 4) as well.
Sitting here and writing this, I definitely think should be getting back into reading books. At least with books they can do things and go places that television can’t go: getting into a character’s head. Not to mention doing intricate back story that doesn’t have to be squeezed into a 40 minute episode timeslot. And a place where only bad writers will change premises between books in a series. Although given that I have three books here in my queue (Empire State, Game of Thrones and Seeker) not to mention all the books on my eBook reader… I’m not entirely sure I’m up to reading in bed, given that will last for about 5 minutes before I pass out snoring loud enough to wake the dead. But I’ll consider it given that I’m going to be needing a break from something else soon enough.
Another thing that I was thinking about last week occurred when I saw a message in one of the communities that I’m part of. Seemed that it’s coming up on that time of year when the “National Day of Silence” occurs and seeing someone commenting on it and waffling, I ended up looking for the entry and posting a copy of it to the thread. I reread the entry to ensure that my feeling that I had written about the event hadn’t changed (it didn’t, I still think it’s a step in the wrong direction, though I digress), and after a bit of going through other journal entries, I recall that the feeling that I had when I was writing those entries wasn’t quite the Sisyphean task of journal entry. And then I realized in scanning some of the entries what one of the problem was… I had been writing with an emotional element that I haven’t been quite feeling for quite some time: unrequited love.
Yes, the very thing that often leaves me a quivering and gibbering mess… the very thing that I would prefer to express and not be so well hidden in the recesses of my heart and mind. The very thing that after a while, I get tired of having and hiding and want to be rid of it entirely if I cannot express it and it’s not going to be reciprocated. Here’s the thing though; I know what it is that I need from it in order to write the way that I do: from the heart. From the wild hair that sometimes ends up across my ass about something. It’s the friction that comes from not only wanting to do and say the right thing, but also the part that comes from competing for someone else’s affections. That showing off the best parts of me to prove that I’m worthy.
Strange thing that as I’m sitting here. I have no problems with self-love at all. I am comfortable with myself enough that I have no problems with all these thoughts and what not in my head. But I lack the sort of friction that will get me going in such a way as to go off on some sort of tear. In essence, I’m too comfortable and far too calm for that sort of internal friction anymore. In either case, it’s something that I’m going to have to work out…
Which leads me to the last part of this journal entry… A part that I’ve been holding off writing about because it’s involving another human being. While it’s easy to keep the person anonymous (as I haven done in the past with other people that have requested anonymity), I find it to be a somewhat difficult path to be walking given that it’s going to involve a lot of complex descriptions that I’m not used to expressing in type. Sure, I can say it aloud easily enough. But putting it down to words leads to misinterpretation in ways that can do more harm than good. So… With that in mind, I’m going to press on with this when I get home as I should be getting ready for work at the moment… I’ll see if I can’t put a bit more thought into it before I begin writing it down. Until later perhaps.
Facebook and the effects of Social Faux Pas
Entry 01/28/2013 08:17:24 AM – Mentat 679
“Associate with well-mannered persons and your manners will improve. Run around with decent folk and your own decent instincts will be strengthened.” – Stanley Walker
There’s a lot to be said about the random quote that I picked up today. One that involves a story as to why this one was in fact chosen and not simply handed to me in an arbitrary manner from The Quotation Page. Earlier last week, I had seen an acquaintance post a status message on Facebook something along the lines of this:
If a deaf person hurts themselves, do they scream or sign in pain?
It had with it the usual tags that the acquaintance was with two friends when she asked the denizens of Facebook.
I had stared at the question a good thirty seconds, finding myself surprised at it even making it up as a status message. I am thinking that for three twenty-somethings posing this, this was one of the most juvenile questions I had seen in a long time. It’s the sort of thing I would expect from a teenager (at best), and found that even in humor this was done in poor taste. Not because I have friends and family that are deaf, but instead because of the setting it was asked on.
I asked for clarification as to whether or not they were serious..
They were… After all, they wouldn’t have asked it if they weren’t (serious).
I pointed out that the question came off as juvenile, that I’m not one to jump onto the PC (Politically Correct Bandwagon), inferred there is a time and a place to ask such questions and went on to answer based on my experience.
At this point I had finished lunch and was heading to work, and forgot to put my phone back to vibrate. It had buzzed with a response as I was down on my hands and knees painting a floor.
The acquaintance responded that she was insulted by my accusation. She said something to the extent that she had studied ASL and BSL and that she’s never encountered anyone deaf in her life until last week.
I responded that she knew what her options were if she felt that (insulted) and went on to say that this medium (Facebook) lacks the ability to physically convey the honesty of her question and that it should be asked face-to-face.
She went on to say something about not wanting to be treated like a country bumpkin (or along those lines).
I admit, I stopped listening registering what she was saying at this point. She was acting childish, feigning insult and injury about a question that really didn’t belong in a social setting and should have been asked of someone vis-à-vis… I was only keying into specific words knowing full well the end results were leading down the familiar path that could only end in some sort of flame war…
I remember I looked at her response and instead of going on the offensive and having to deal with a dwindling battery supply not to mention creating an incendiary situation, simply responded ibid.
After all, there was nothing more that could be said on the subject and that leaving her the last word of being insulted would only make a bad situation worse. I had to point back to what I said, without having to copy & paste the entire section about asking it elsewhere only to have her parrot more hurt.
That’s when the acquaintance’s two friends went on the offensive. Both of them tried to prove their mental superiority with one saying that they knew Latin and what it meant, the other saying they’re a linguist and the two of them making personal attacks about age, intelligence and a couple of other barbs that I had made a point of ignoring and forgetting. Because between the three of them acting like petulant children, I had more than enough proof for what I was going to say; and I did.
I responded to the effect that this was more than enough proof of why one shouldn’t ask such questions online, and gave them the free pass to take their last swings. After all, in any online battle, getting the last word means you won the argument, whether you’re right, wrong, or egregiously ignorant. I un-friended the acquaintance immediately after posting that message, and when I got home from a full day’s work went on to block her from getting in contact with me anymore.
I’ll admit that I was both more than a little surprised and just a touch hurt by this. Sitting here now, I think the hurt was more because of the disappointment of misreading what I had learned about her in the 6 or so months that I’ve known her and not because of the hurtful comments her friends made. Hell, at my age (both physical and internet age), there’s very little that can burn me so thoroughly as to being hurt emotionally or even intellectually. Having survived my fair share of flame wars, I’ve learned how to keep my emotional state calm in spite of the grandstanding I might do when posting a vicious or incendiary retort.
Looking back through the months I had known her, since her break up with her boyfriend (an acquaintance I talk with less frequently), if one were to take a look at her timeline, she’s become… More childish. And scrubby… Like slapper, scrubby. At first, I thought it was just that she was sowing oats sort of thing. She’s an adult now, well toward finishing university/college and going to be a social worker. Clearly going through what I used to call “Freshman Burnout” (that time when a college freshman, living away from home, enjoys the pleasures of being one’s own boss, parties hard — really hard — and either fails out or practically fails out by first semester).
But then I thought of something along the lines of my quote for today… If being around good people helps foster good manners, then the same can be said about hanging around bad influences as well.
I thought about contacting the ex-boyfriend about whether it was just me or whether the changes were noticeable, but then decided against it. I got the impression the way things went when they broke up, coupled with the fact that she’s no longer on his friend page, that it had ended poorly. After all, there’s no need to be dredging up old pains and old wounds, right?
So here I am, Monday morning… Finally getting over having a mixture of chills and hot flashes (yes I’m running a fever from some virus) through the whole of the weekend and now with the wrong sort of muscle aches; I’m thinking rather sardonically on a quote and my experience with this chain of events… The quote from Heathers (1988) where Veronica’s mom said:
When teenagers complain that they want to be treated like human beings, it’s usually because they are being treated like human beings.
The thing is, it makes me wonder whether this generation of 20-somethings is actually going to learn what my generation (and the generations before me) taught generation after generation. When asking something inopportune, inappropriate, and even indelicate, ignorantly or rudely… being embarrassed, chided, reprimanded in public or even in a social setting was a natural response from peers (adults). From that denigration/embarrassment/whatever you want to call it — one learned through the experience in that situation that some things are either best left unasked (that is to say blurted out without second thought) or better still asked in a more intimate environment, one on one or in a small group privately.
The thing is though, with this generation being online since adolescence, I have learned from experience that they don’t seem to have a concept between what’s private and what’s public, thinking that a social environment (like FaceBook for example) is a perfectly acceptable place for asking anything without consequence. And better still, when they’re faced with consequence (even and especially in public as I’ve witnessed), instead of reacting as they should if embarrassed for their indiscrete questions or comments — if it’s more than just them in the setting — will gang up on the person trying to teach them better manners and telling the person or persons trying to educate them that they’re not part of the conversation or that it’s none of their business and “butt out”.
The optimist in me thinks that perhaps that they’ll learn, however the realist that sees and witnesses such activity thinks that it’s going to take driving anyone worthwhile out of their lives before they start asking the questions, “is it me?” In any event… Heh, I should pull my pants up to where my nipples are, put on a pair of suspenders, shake my cane and complain about youth, eh?
That’s it for the time being. Off to prep for a rather difficult (and long) day at work. Until the next time.
Gaming, Hunches and wandering through the weekend
Entry 01/20/2013 12:26:19 PM – Mentat 678
静けさの中１粒堕ちただけ – 広がる波紋に波うつ井戸の底 – KOKIA
As it turns out, I just can’t seem to sit still or keep my focus on much of anything this morning. And to think it started out quite well too… It was quiet enough, no unusual noise or drama. No police, hell no one in the apartment complex seemed to be up other than me. Not even the toddlers on the first floor… Decided to give Ingress a go in my neighborhood just to confirm what I was seeing on the Intel Map was accurate (it was and then some). An hour and a half later after walking 1.5 miles (2.4 km), I’m home, get a half-dozen pictures of potential portal sites submitted to the Super-Ops for consideration and hopefully in a couple of weeks, some of the submissions will show up on the map. And a couple of hours later, with a few failed attempts of playing a couple of online games on the PC, I can’t for the life of me seem to sit still enough to actually play them. I decided to see if eating lunch and watching a movie while I write will calm me down enough to do something. We’ll see if it works, or I end up continuing to be antsy and fidgety.
During my walk through the neighborhood I went to check out the one and only portal in walking distance to the house and it turns out that it’s been taken over by the Resistance… And by someone that’s rather prolific about ensuring practically all of downtown Providence is Resistance controlled too. Pity with me being such a lowbie, the two hack attempts ended miserably and with no chance in the Nine Hells of being able to do much of anything (other than getting my power reserved burned down). But hopefully there will be some new portals in 4 – 6 weeks that I can get my level/score up enough to have a go at the local heavyweights I’m not sure about the leveling scheme of this game… Folk in the Intel Map Chats say it’s pretty quick when you can actually find a portal (or three) to hack and secure, but the problem with this side of the city (and more importantly this side of the state), it looks like Google/Ingress is only just setting up and most of the portals (including their placement) are done by students and working class types in the Downtown/Financial District part of the city. Re-checking the map, it looks as though the lower portions of College Hill are also part of the Resistance. Hopefully with my eye for the rules and wandering around the part of the city I live in, more should be popping up soon enough and if I get the chance, get my score/level up in no time.
I was also checking out Schemer for less game-like/spy-craft, and more things to do outside of the house, but for the life of me continually got an error about location settings needing to be on when they’re on. Although, thinking about it as I was writing this, I ended up checking out the phone, the forums and anything else I could dig up to see what the problem was with me getting that error. As it turns out there’s a drop down menu with the option to disables location services altogether. Seemed to be set to this as “default”. Changing the option from the one that clearly reads “disabled” to “My Neighborhood” or “Map” automatically updates the location and gives me various schemes to check out. I’ll have to give that a go the next time I’m hauled about for errands to see if the map updates properly, or whether it’s something I need to investigate further. Not sure whether this is something I’m going to recommend to friends just yet, given that the suggestions I’m seeing from other folk seriously needs to be worked on, but it’s enough for me to idle some of my out-of-the-neighborhood time… Pity most of them involve money, but I’m sure that when I have more of it (money), it (schemer) might actually be worthwhile.
Alright… 75 minutes later, and I’m still antsy as hell, though at least I’m sated and a bit more relaxed than I was before lunch. Which says it was more because of my sugar being a bit low and the morning coffee doing more to me than I thought possible. Still though, I got too much energy, way too many thoughts going through my head, and perhaps a bit too much adrenaline in the bloodstream than I should have. Perhaps I’ll wander off to meditate a bit and come back to this when I can organize my thoughts a bit better.
[Last Edited: 01/21/2013 07:55:05 AM]
After a quick meditation and following a hunch yesterday, I checked out something from the Intel Map that showed an unclaimed (for lack of a better word) portal in the middle of the Chalkstone area and after a brisk walk was able to find it. Sure enough… It was right in front of the public library in the area. Only thing is that it’s Sunday, and the library’s closed so me standing out in front of it would be suspicious in its own right. I’ll try laying down a couple of more resonators tomorrow when the library’s open and things look more unsuspicious than today. But I got the idea on how quick it’s going to be (which the time in the game is completely off. 300 seconds seemed to go by in ½ the time). And I also got the idea on how quick it’s going to be to level up, which isn’t quite as quick as I thought it was going to be. In fact, it’s going to take quite a lot longer than I had anticipated too… But at least it’ll pass the time and keep me out of the house for a bit when the weather’s a bit warmer… Like this afternoon where it hit a high of 54 F (12 C)…
Well, I was finally able to get my head settled down enough to sit long enough to play a couple of games and even watch a couple of videos. Damn if it didn’t take long enough to do that too. I think it was because of the second walk that did it and the satisfaction of following through on the hunch that I had. I was able to even calm enough of my thoughts to actually appreciate the music I was listening to, instead of feeling the need to listen for the sake of drowning out the world around me, which has been a habit of mine entirely too much as of late.
On the whole though, in my pre-caffeinated state as I sit here and wait for my coffee to brew and bagel to toast, I’m feeling pretty all right. I know I’m going into work today even if it’s for a half day. Not sure whether this is going to be one of those “wander in on my own” sort of days or whether Ed’s going to go in and then call over. He’s the carpenter/construction worker that’s helping my landlord with putting up the slatting for the dry-wall around the place. It’s pretty much complete on the concrete walls, all that’s left at the moment is reinforcing the dividing wall between the “office area” and the gallery/garage for the Art-mobile. Of course my work’s going to be pushed soon as I’ll be painting the floors on the loft, followed by continuing the painting/work on the dividing door between the main garage door and the gallery/garage. Though thinking about it, I might have to push for painting the garage door as it was a quick and dirty hack job and if I’m going to be airbrush/painting the door — it should be done before the drywalls are up and painted white as well. Particularly given that 4 months after painting the ceiling all black, there’s still black dust all over the place — particularly the loft area which has been swept, blown off and vacuumed constantly since.
I should go. I should be doing my own housework here before I head out. And it does need to be done. Until the next time.
As the Wintery Days just putter by
Entry 01/19/2013 12:29:21 PM – Mentat 677
Ah, the joys of a colder albeit sunnier weekend. In spite of the fact that I am mostly rested, I’m still feeling more than a little knackered lazing around the house and playing games or watching videos here and there. Not that I mind really… After all, if I get too tired, I can always slack off to my room, put some music on and pass out for a quick cat-nap or two. Though that entirely depends on whether or not the slacker downstairs decides on playing his crappy music on a crappier stereo system. But that remains to be seen… Stories on this in a little while.. Right now I need to catch up on other things…
For example, my hearing’s mostly back to normal since the last time I wrote. The ear drops (and free penicillin from a local clinic) worked like a charm. While I still have some tinnitus from the accident years ago, it’s not so overwhelming as it was when my ear was completely blocked up. And while a good majority of the vertigo and dizziness is gone, I still get occasional waves of it. According to what I’ve experienced, read and what the doctor at the clinic has told me, this is the sort of thing that happens several weeks to several months afterward. It’s called Chronic Compensation… Thinking back to the last couple of times that I’ve had and inner ear infection, it usually lasted only a couple of weeks, but given that I’m middle-aged now there’s a good chance it’ll last for at least a month. At leas the other good thing that comes out of this is that it doesn’t last long when I’m standing up — and can be clocked to about 90 minutes of continuous standing. Not to mention that I don’t get it confused when my sugar’s low; that usually happens when I over-exert myself at about 4 hours.
Then last night, as I was passed out and drooling into my pillow, I heard caterwauling out in the hallway for about ½ hour. Turns out that one of the two cats in the downstairs neighbor’s apartment had gotten out and was lost and confused in the hallway. With it being almost 3 in the morning, I opened the door and brought the kitten in so that it wouldn’t be making a royal racket throughout the night. So, with a little milk and a little playing with an extra shoe-string, in about ½ hour he was fast asleep on the bed. He did pretty well — slept through most of the night. Then in the morning — at a respectable hour — brought him down to the neighbor’s apologizing for holding him through the night as I didn’t want the racket, which she thanked me and the cat was happily reunited with his brother (they have two). Personally, I think it was nice to have a cat about the house, in spite of the occasional meowing as it felt lost and lonely, he reminded me that if I’m going to get another cat — it’s definitely going to be male. It’s less likely to throw hissy-fits as a female might. I’m not sure I’d want an all-black either, as it’s difficult to see ’em with the lights off…
As I tweeted earlier in the week, it’s been incredibly quiet here at the homestead. Seems that the dickhead downstairs hasn’t been around or has wised up and kept the music to a minimum, though after we had all sorts of noise here last night I suspect it was more of the former and less of the latter, as the music returned. However, this morning it seems that this sort of changed as there were 3 cruisers here. Normally there’s only 2 to respond to any scene, however given that the downstairs neighbor is on home confinement (has the anklet to prove it). Not sure what happened next. I heard the police announce themselves after banging on the door with a nightstick, a little talk mostly kept to quiet tones and the police leaving the building a couple of minutes and then left. I didn’t get downstairs fast enough… Mostly because I had the other neighbor’s cat with me and I had been planning on bringing it down, but decided against it because I didn’t want the cat spooked seeing all sorts of strangers in the hallway. So by the time I was able to make any sort of arrangements, the police were already out in their cruisers, one of which had driven off, the other two seemed to have been calling in to the station and it was over.
The landlord had texted me almost immediately asking for the details, and I gave him what little I could puzzle out. He tells me that there were 3 cruisers at another of his properties (well away from my neck of the woods), and believes they rushed here from there. Which seems odd given that the other property’s about 3 miles (4.8 km) from here. And I can’t see the dickhead downstairs going to that side of the city — given it’s primarily WASP. But I’m sure that more of this little drama playlet will unfold as days progress and of course, I’ll probably write about it.
So I finally got the invite to play Ingress. It looks interesting enough, given it’s sort of a social geocaching come spy-craft sort of game. Got through the tutorial with more than a little buggy trouble (I believe it was more PEBCAK and not actual bugs). Looking at the intel map and some of the requirements, it seems that my neck of the woods is curiously lacking portals. But according to the help files online, it’s pretty easy to correct by taking pictures and uploading them to the game moderators for them to decide whether a portal can be placed there or not. Given how bloody cold it’s been the last couple of days, I’ve sort of abstained from going out into it… But as it’s supposed to be warming up the next couple of days, I might take advantage tomorrow to do a little searching and uploading to add areas for portals. Given this is an urban area, there should be more portals even in these neighborhoods as I was seeing downtown near the business district.
Other than that, I’ve found myself positively inundated with unusually sexually charged fantasies with the routine smattering of bat-shit weird dreams I’m well known for having. Strange thing is that when I dream at night, it’s one or the other, but never a mix of both. So this is sort of new for the likes of me, as I’m not used to having anything sexual mixed in with aliens invading, post war nuclear holocaust-type, or the sort of things that Dante Alighieri or HP Lovecraft would write about (and I would end up dreaming about). On the one side, it’s nice that somewhere in this there’s a bit of dating or romance, or out and out shatter-the-commandments sex… But I’m not so sure that it should be mixed in with aliens bend on the subjugation and extermination of humans, demonic possession bent on unleashing hell on earth, or ruins of humanity because of it’s own over-bloated ego. Seems a little… Melodramatic. And coming from a self-admitted Drama Queen, that’s saying more than it should.
Well that’s about it for the time being. Off to get caught up on my soap opera snippets. Have a light bite to eat and then off to do some reading. Until the next time.
This crap shouldn’t be happening to me, yet
Entry 01/04/2013 07:14:02 AM – Mentat 675
“We don’t see things as they are, we see things as we are.” – Anais Nin
What a comedy of errors (and a couple of health scares) the last couple of days into the new year has turned out to be. Sure, Near Year’s was sedate enough. But that doesn’t normally count for me for what’s coming in the New Year… If anything, the holiday itself is simply a respite from whatever I had been going through from the year before. It’s what I like referring to as the “breather” before starting off the New Year. Whether that start is going to be good or bad, well… I don’t normally get a temperature of it until about March. Still though, as I’m sitting here beginning this journal entry, I can’t help but think it’s going to be an interesting year…
So, Wednesday… My landlord sends me a text that we’ve got an insurance appraiser coming over to the apartment complexes here in the neighborhood and that I should take the time to straighten out the basement before the appraiser shows up. He said that she’ll also need access to my apartment as I’m the only one that he can get hold of to gain access.
Sure. No problem, I think to myself. I’m already cleaned up and dressed early, got the house in order the day before (and before I headed up to my mother’s for dinner) and even got a couple of the things from the other apartments completed. Shouldn’t be too much of a problem to start cleaning the basement. Besides, I knew that it wasn’t true. Both people on the first floor were home, but I knew that their apartments would be classified “disaster areas” when compared to the Spartan cleanliness of mine.
Was going rather well, in spite of the fact that the three hoses that were in the basement are kinked up to hell and back and turned out to be completely impossible to de-kink and untangle. Now granted there wasn’t much I could do with the left side section of the basement. The people on the first floor have enough furniture for two apartments here and the deadbeat still has things in the basement that need to be removed (oil-based paintings and huge-assed canvasses that are considered a fire hazard), so all I could possibly do is straighten out what wasn’t theirs and hope for the best.
As I was finishing up the section of the basement on the right side when straightening out the extra ceramic tiles (that had been used for the floor in my bathroom) when an extremely sharp shard cut through the work gloves I’d been using and sliced cleanly into my left pinky. I was extremely surprised it had cut through the leather and even more surprised it had gotten me. And did it get me!
I was bleeding like a stuck pig.
Rushed upstairs to my apartment to check the damage and ensure that I had no ceramic fragments in the cut and cleaned it as best I could. Realized that this cut was a hell of a lot deeper than expected and that I was going to need band aids for it. Of course, there were none in the house, all the while, bleeding into the bathroom sink, onto the floor in the bathroom and the kitchen as I tried grabbing a paper towel.
Swearing to myself, trying my best to keep pressure on the cut with one hand and using the other to clean up the blood on the floor, and wash out the bathroom sink. Getting a bit more blood on the floor and cleaning it, I realize that this sort of cut’s going to need my full attention and a lot more regular pressure and the hope that this sort of cut isn’t going to need stitches or butterflies, which means a trip to the ER and something I couldn’t afford.
Three minutes and a lot more blood into the kitchen sink later, I realize this isn’t going to be stopping soon. And that means needing bandages and antiseptic.
And there’s none in the house as I don’t often cut myself at home.
It’s funny… Sitting here now writing about this, I could’ve headed over to the garage as the Garage has a full first aid kit But somewhere in the back of my head, I decided against it out of the fact that it would’ve been more of a struggle getting to the kit than I wanted to do. So I headed over to my mother’s place as I knew she had all the necessities for this sort of cut.
So there I am, locking the door to the apartment up, trudging and slipping on the ice as I head toward the street, I started acting like a complete hypochondriac think “pneumonia” if I were to trudge less than ¼ mile to my mother’s apartment with my coat open in just below freezing temperatures. Let me tell you, while I admit to being moderately ambidextrous, having my left hand incapacitated as it’s trying to keep pressure on a bleeding cut and tying up a jacket is pretty damned impossible. While I was fortunate enough not to get any blood on my jacket (or pants), the gravity did it’s work and it was all about the alleyway because of my struggles.
On the way, I struggle with my coat again, get my mobile and call my mother while trying to keep pressure and not bleed all over the really icy sidewalks and bridge. I tell her I’m on my way up to her place for band-aids, tell her briefly about the accident and if she can pick up a small box of band-aids for me and anything else she can think of.
I got to her place without a fall, but slipped at least a million times trying to walk through hardened slush and icy patches on the sidewalks. When I got to her house, her dog — Sarah — was in the living room and perked up when she saw me dash from the door to the bathroom (but didn’t get up), said something to her about “stay there” and got into the bathroom, washed out the cut one more time, saw it was still bleeding profusely and got some antiseptic ointment and band-aid onto it, but not without bleeding all over her bathroom sink and faucets as well.
Yes, the bleeding did stop when I got the band-aid onto it. I had wrapped it with just enough pressure without cutting off circulation to the tip of my pinky. I gave Sarah a pet who didn’t get up once, locked up and headed back to the house to finish what I had started.
Final Score: 3 sinks and sets of faucets (2 of mine, 1 of my mother’s), 1 toilet seat (mine and only saw it this morning and given it’s placement was because I had a nature call somewhere in this chaos), 4 floors (my kitchen and bathroom, my mother’s kitchen and bathroom), an alleyway and ½ a pair of work gloves.
Heh, I’m still very surprised none of my clothes or coat were bloodied in the process. Nor my phone (as I use it left handed more often times than naught). Everything else though? Ha! I’m such a dramatic, hot mess.
So I got through the building and apartment inspection without a hitch, talked a bit with my landlord as to some of the things that had been going on since, went through what I needed to do for work (did that yesterday), and once that was all done, headed back to my mother’s as I was sure she would be home from work by that time.
Sure enough I caught her outside with Sarah as she was getting back from walking the dog, and after the usual greeting she says, “you knew I was at work and wouldn’t be able to answer the phone.”
“Of course, which is why I knew I would be leaving a message on your voicemail.”
“What happened?”
So I told her again, got upstairs, took off the band-aid to show her the cut and no sooner than I did began bleeding again.
With her help, I got a bit more ointment and a clean bandage on it and it stopped bleeding again.
She didn’t pick up a box, but instead went into the medicine chest and pulled out one of 3 different boxes, giving me enough to last the next two years (as I said, I don’t cut myself often, so a dozen or two are going to last me forever).
Then, as she went about cleaning up the rooms, I stood in the hallway and told her about the conversations that I’ve had with the landlord and what I’m wanting to do with him through the next month. As she was coming back from the bedroom and heading to the kitchen, I turn to get ahead of her (so I could sit at the kitchen table)…
… And proceeded to slam full-on with the doorframe of the kitchen. I knew I hit it too, my head bounced off the doorframe and felt the dull ache in the middle of my forehead.
Between asking me I’m all right and laughing so much that she practically wets herself, I roll my eyes and say, “Yeah I’m fine. I blame this on all the blood I’ve lost.”
Seriously though, even after making a dramatic joke about it, I know I’ve always been this graceful. Friend and family know this after 47 years since the first time I wobbled up and walked erect like a homo sapiens and not an infant.
She still continued laughing for some time after that, and then when her husband came home told and laughed then as well.
Good thing I have a self-depreciating sense of humor and continued to make light of it. And another good thing that didn’t come out of that happily little accident is that I didn’t end up with either a shiner or a welt on my forehead.
Yesterday there was no indication that the cut on my pinky bled, and this morning, I didn’t put on a new bandage after the shower as there’s been no indication of any bleeding since. So off with the bandage and on with showing off a new scar for the next couple of weeks before it disappears.
Then last night, I don’t know what the hell happened. I went through a day of painting and got home fine and without any problems. Made myself a modest supper (as I always do) of left over turkey salad sandwiches and soup, and for some reason I got extremely cold and no amount of heat (from the heater or the shower that I took) could keep me warm. Ended up shutting down everything but the heat and going to bed early… Fell right to sleep too.
Sometime in the night, I woke up, realized that the heat was still on (I always sleep with it off, after all I have enough blankets and body heat that I don’t need it at night) and got up to shut it off before falling back to sleep.
Fell out of bed.
Got up, stumbled and slammed into the doorframe in the bedroom.
Thinking that the downstairs neighbor is probably thinking something’s going wrong upstairs try to get myself re-oriented and shambling to the stove to shut off the heat, slammed my hip into that as well.
Cursed and shambled to the bathroom for a nature call and slammed my head into the shelf above the toilet.
It was like I had an inner ear infection (I know what those are like, I’ve had enough of them in my life). Except that I didn’t exhibit any of the symptoms that I normally have when I’m getting an inner ear infection.
So, keeping one hand against the walls and shambling back to bed, I passed out only to wake up this morning, perfectly all right.
I don’t want to know what the hell happened last night, but I hope that it was just that I was too tired and disoriented when I woke up that this sort of thing happened. If it happens again, I’m going to have to have that checked for certain.
Heh, I still want to blame the blood loss from 2 days ago on this (even though I know that I can’t and knowing I’m being a drama queen about it).
Anyway, I’ll probably write when I get home. I have to go into work early this morning; looks like my landlord wants to make up for the time lost that he didn’t work yesterday. Until then.
[Last Edited: 01/04/2013 03:08:11 PM]
Heading into work, the more I thought about last night’s calamity of bang ups and (lack of) bruises, the more I began to think there was something seriously wrong. It was either an allergic reaction to something or I had something seriously going on with my blood pressure. Talking to my family, they ruled out the usual possibilities (Inner Ear Infection and Influenza). My aunt doesn’t think it’s blood pressure, but then again she’s been on medication to control that for years (more than two decades, if memory serves) and might not have had the same symptoms. So I decided to work only a half-day (with the permission from my landlord) and over the next three I’m going to monitor what I’m eating, what I come in contact with, etc.. And see if it’s an allergic reaction.
I also ruled out that it was a sugar/metabolism problem as well. I mean my sugar did plummet yesterday early afternoon (noontime-ish) — so much so that not only was I disoriented (and in my own world), but I only realized that my sugar had dropped to a dangerous level when I found myself on autopilot heading home for lunch. But after a good meal and for the remainder of the afternoon, I was perfectly all right. No dizziness, no disorientation, everything went on as it should through the rest of the day.
When I had called them to ask whether they had a portable blood pressure reader (and both said no), that I head up to the local pharmacy (Walgreen’s) and have it checked. Only problem with this is that I’m perfectly fine right now and having it checked isn’t going to do much other than confirm that my blood is a bit higher than normal (has been since I was a teen), not to mention that if it happens again at night (like it did last night), Walgreen’s closes at 9 PM and this happened at midnight last night.
So I’m going to rule out that it might be an allergic reaction.
Great… Just great there.
Since the car accident 28 years ago, I haven’t developed any new allergies and the last one that was discovered was formaldehyde. Fun times there discovering that one as I’m working in a distribution warehouse filled with boxes or clothes and what not. Though the symptoms to that didn’t start developing until I was there for almost 6 months, and even then it was heart palpitations, shortness of breath and extreme brain-splitting headaches.
Now the thing is that my landlord has used cardboard as a sort of floor protection while we’ve been working at the garage the let couple of months, and while that might be the culprit, the problem is that it’s a tenth of the amount of cardboard I’ve been exposed to at the distribution warehouse. The other thing is that it’s only been in the garage (either stacked up or laid out on the floor) no more than 2 months, which means that it’s too soon for me to demonstrate any symptoms.
In any case, I’m going to need to watch what I do the next three days and see if it’s something with the house, work at the garage, something I ate, or something that just happened.
Anyway, I think I’m going to take one more break. Off to my mother’s for dinner this evening and then I’ll come home and either write a bit more or post and call it a night… Once again.
[Last Edited: 01/05/2013 09:50:42 AM]
Christ on a drunken rampage, there’s just no end to the “fun” that I’ve been having. Last night, I went over to my mother’s for dinner and a bit of chatting; I thought that I did pretty all right with the food choice (steak & cheese calzone from a local pizzeria). Even stayed up to a moderate time before crashing in bed. Then around 2 in the morning, I’m woken up to incredible discomfort and indigestion. At first I’m thinking it’s a gallbladder attack like the one that I had a couple of years ago, except the longer I stayed up to nurse through the pain the more I realized that I had an incredible amount of gas. I think I became convinced it wasn’t my gallbladder because I took a hot shower sometime halfway through the pain and realized that the shower had calmed me down significantly. (The last time, no amount of warm water on me would make the pain go away). Further, the pain that I had in my mid-back wasn’t even there. That and the fact that I was burping every three minutes wasn’t what happened the times I have had an attack either. So about mid-way through I decided to make myself a couple of dry toast, ate most of the first slice and voila, all the pain and gas that I had been suffering through receded. There were a couple of moments that I thought I was going to vomit, but that passed when I went back to bed to lie down.
Heh, then only problem I was experiencing was that by the time it had diminished to the point where I could go back to bed, my unconscious mind played some awful tricks on me and made me think that I was still in pain. So for the next couple of hours as I laid there in bed, while I knew I was sleeping, it wasn’t the typical deep sleep I’m used to having and any movement that I did made me think that the pain was still there. It took me waking up at 7 am (and then immediately going back to sleep) to convince the unconvinced part of my brain that the pain had entirely passed. I got a couple of more hours of peaceful sleep and now I’m up for the duration.
Seriously, this crap isn’t supposed to be happening until I’m almost 60. I don’t understand why it’s all decided to come visit me in 2013. In any event, I’m hoping this isn’t going to be some sort of awful trend for this year, because let me tell you: I’m not going to have any of it! Not… One… Bit!
Anyway, that’s it for the time being. I’m going out with the relatives to The Lodge for dinner. That and in a little bit I need to see what’s going on with my mother’s computer. Looks like she’s got some sort of failure going on. Hopefully she has access to the Install DVD, if not, then it’s going to be a convoluted mess at a Command Prompt. Until the next time.
On the other side of the Calendar Line…
Entry 01/01/2013 11:29:12 AM – Mentat 674
“People with courage and character always seem sinister to the rest.” – Hermann Hesse
So it’s the beginning of 2013, and I’ve just completed doing all the usual chores that I do for New Year’s Day: Have a different (and large) breakfast, had my morning coffee while cleaning up the house, moved all the files dated for 2012 to the NAS/Archive Repository, looked at how many of the resolutions that I had worked on for the previous year, and which ones will carry over to the new. I have to say that given that most of my world had pretty much come to a grinding halt around July (with the remainder of the year was me puttering along and dealing with all sorts of ugly and toxic emotions because of a deadbeat/douchebag using me), I did pretty well. 5 out of 9 of the resolutions that I had made had been accomplished. 55% according to my understanding of maths. One was out of my hands — though I have plenty of relatives that were willing to help out with it – getting another cat. If I can barely take care of myself, I most certainly can’t take care of a pet. Maybe later on this year.
Come to think of it, another was sort of out of my hands as well (and one that is going to carry over to this year) is dating and perhaps having a boyfriend. After my last entry talking about what I’ve had to deal with before the end of 2012, I think know I’m going to be a hell of a lot more rigid about following the rules that I posted in that entry. Particularly when you consider the sort of folk that have been hitting me up from the area. I’m sure I’ll be dancing about this subject in the year ahead… Heh, what can I say? I’m a drama queen — I live for that sort of dance (and drama) sometimes.
So, looking at the current list this year I have about 14 resolutions that I’m going to be working on throughout 2013. While I won’t talk about them in a public journal entry, as some of them are incredibly personal, I can tell you readers (*waves* hey there folk, Merry New Year!) that a couple of them are carryovers from last year, a good amount of them (this year) have to deal with the impact of dealing with the deadbeat/douchebag and the repercussions that his using me has caused. And a couple of them are the sort of self-improvement resolutions I feel that I should be working on as I close in on my half-century mark… come 2014. Let’s see how many of those that I complete for the coming year and what it was that effected me to stop what I was doing on my road to self-betterment.
As for me at the moment, I’m just idling the next hour before heading over to my mother’s for a couple of hours for her annual New Year’s Party. I’m glad that she’s only 15 minutes from here and that I can walk it — though I can’t wait to see how much of the snow that hit us over the weekend has frozen to ice and made the sidewalks between the firehouse and Marcello Street absolutely hazardous. It’s those areas that have no one to shovel out the sidewalks and given the foot traffic on them, it should be pressed down and frozen over the last couple of days. Heh, if there’s nothing more from me, then you know that I’ve slipped to my death…
Such a drama queen, I know…
It’s because I’m still sore. The day before yesterday I had shoveled out the entire section of the parking lot and walkways here at the homestead and two other addresses down the street. While I couldn’t finish out one of the addresses (the one that seems to have more shut ins than the house next door to mine here at the homestead); after 6 hours and the fact that the guy that was supposed to plow the three addresses was a no show, I had my fill of the wet, cold, wind (and wind chill) and the ever building soreness, aches and pains. The last couple of days Aspercreme has been a close personal friend for the aches and pains that I’ve had in my lower arms, lower back and shoulders, and while it might not smell as medicinal or as geriatric as say Bengay, I know I have it on me by the whiff of an odor I catch when I move. At least I own a couple of colognes that I can use to hide the smell of it and might use one of ’em before heading on over.
Anyway, I’m zoning at the moment and having momentary over-emotional reactions to a couple of the songs that I’ve listened to, which means that I need something to eat. I’ll probably be back later to wrap this entry up before wandering off to playing a game (or two) before passing out. Until then.
[Last Edited: 01/01/2013 07:02:55 PM]
All right, I’m home for the moment and I survived the walk through some of the icier parts of the sidewalks between here and my mother’s house. Although the worst parts of the walk were mostly predictable: like the bridge over Route 6 and of course the property on Atwells that used to be the old 3M Plant. Seriously, I don’t know what or how either areas are going to handled, but someone at City Hall should seriously look into it. The most surprising however was Holy Ghost Church that seemed to have had no problems getting a walkway shoveled from their parking lot to the front door… Or the side door to the rectory to the sidewalk, but didn’t do anything about any of the sidewalk around their square in the front of the church. Talk about lazy or irresponsible… I can’t tell which. Pity I didn’t take a picture of it though. I was running late because of the walk, and it was too dark by the time I headed home, else I’d share. If I have the time and perhaps the energy tomorrow, I might. We’ll see though.
Still pretty stuffed from the spread my mother put out for us and friends for New Year’s Day… My mother still hasn’t worked out how to cook in moderation. Too many years cooking for the five of us didn’t help matters… But at least I have a couple of days of leftovers here thanks to her going all out… For those times after work that I absolutely positively don’t have the energy to cook a meal for supper or prepping a meal for lunch (which I tend to eat bigger because of the amount of labor that I do)…
Interesting having the reminiscing moments when my mother’s friend mentioned that she works at Hemenway’s and was working last night during New Year’s Eve. Brought me back to more than 20 years ago when being with Darin he used to work there as a waiter as well. Some of the horror stories that she was telling at the table reminded me of some of the stories Darin used to tell me when he got home after a stressful night/holiday event. As the saying goes, “the more things change, the more they remain the same.”
Well, that’s about it for the time being… I feel like I’m rambling. Until the next time…
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