The Bad Juju that comes with the Aftermath

Michael’s First Blog on the Net | One of many blogs, this one dates back the farthest

Entry 09/23/2015 09:19:17 PM – Mentat 993

As of yesterday morning I’m through with all the things that I need to order and/or replace. The iPod was completed on Monday night (being in sometime the beginning of next week. The phone Tuesday Morning. The retractable baton is still in the wish list until such time as I have the money to pull from a new check rather than off of the current saved funds for the replacement windows rather than out of it and then shoveling the money back into it… Then again the other hesitation is that in carrying the weapon it opens myself up to different retaliation. Stopping by my mother’s house yesterday morning (I couldn’t remember whether today was included in the first of the morning walk), she tells me that my uncle’s promising to buy me a Taser. Uh, that’s going to be quite a problem during my walks and especially having it on me while at work. Hopefully the message will be received and if not, it’ll be happily laid off to the side at the house. Uh, yeah… No I don’t think so. Lovely sentiment but I’m having problems enough with the thought of arming myself given I’m a pacifist by nature. Even if the roughest thing out of me comes from my mouth.

I’m noticing as well that while the mouth is no longer bleeding and the ear isn’t looking like it lost a cage match; the rest of me is still feeling sore as hell. I think it has to deal with post adrenaline stress as the hoodlums were very specific with where they hit me… Legs, and parts of my abdomen. Just one of those things, I guess. That and apparently my resting pulse is up back to the stress-time I had during the desk moves that happened a couple of months ago. Seems like I might be going through some of post-traumatic stress of some sort or another… Which also probably explains the weird up and down feeling I’ve had going on through the night (and part of the morning), today.

So I’m sitting here at my desk, slouching for the moment while I’m brewing my coffee (I can smell some of it through I’m upwind from the pot), watching the folk chatting on dAmn, I’m pondering whether I want to take a break for the moment to get dressed up and walk the 800 or so steps to hit my daily 10K. I know I still have a little time… As I should also make the bed and take a shower. Perhaps even try cleaning myself up a bit in the shower. Yeah, slouch day for the weekend and I’m definitely slouching.

I know that I have one of those reality intruding in on my dream states thanks to my wonderful pain-in-the-ass cat. Seems that sometime during the afternoon after getting out of bed, when he came back in, he decided to knead around my buttocks. I remember it hurting a little bit, but in all honesty I think it was just some sort of unconscious reaction to his incessant kneading at me while he was getting comfortable. At least for the moment since getting up — he’s stopped sucking up to me and is sitting in the bed as usual. Good thing too, given that while I love his company, he’s making it a point not to sit anywhere on my lap, but instead on the back of the chair. But then again I digress from the original points that I was making.

All right, so this morning as I’m getting into the shower, I come to find out that the band on my FitBit is coming apart. Checking through the help forums, it appears that this was an issue with the earlier versions. I was just in time to put a call into support (they close at 23:00 pacific) and after explaining the issue, was able to get a replacement given the unit is under warranty for a year (and I’ve only owned this for just over 3 months). I should have that sometime at the beginning of next week.

Seriously, is there going to be anything else thrown in my direction when it comes to technology? And looking at the Ephemeris for 2015 it would appear that once again, there is some sort of bad juju going on since Friday night. Oh joy of joys there *sighs*.

Now where was I? Oh yeah, showered and dressed. Even got rid of the preamble for No-Shave November (or as most call it Movember) Chugging on the remains of my lukewarm coffee. Puss is sucking up for some love now that I’ve come back to the house to top off my 10,000 steps for the day… Just over sure, though with a quick trip around the block, I’m happy to have gotten the steps in for the day (to make up taking the day out of work Sunday night).

Work has been sort of all right. The manager who’s e-mails seemed to have changed approach from department first/employee health & safety second, seems a hell of a lot more sincere than the call that I mentioned in the last entry. Though, I have to say it’s confusing the wording of the correspondences. At first she seems to be asking for the details of the assault including whether or not I filed a police report because the company’s security was inquiring about it. When I supplied all the information; the very next correspondence seems to indicate that they never asked for that information and whether or not she had permission to forward it to security. Of course, was my response. Anything to assist Security come up with contingency plans for that to never happen to another employee works for me.

One of these days I think I’m going to have to completely sequester myself and try to sort out all the confusing and conflicting things I’ve learned about this job and the people I work with. There’s so much that I’ve learned about the environment and while there’s some really positive things, there’s a whole lot of other things that need to be addresses and/or improved.

And with that, I’m done covering the rest for the moment… Off to perhaps spend some time with the cat and ponder what I’m cooking for lunch today. Until the next time I surface from the underground world I often live in.

Quick Check in…

Entry 04/04/2014 10:09:08 AM – Mentat 693

Two days of spring-like warmth and today it’s back to being the chillier side of spring. Add to the fact that it’s overcast with threats of rain (over the next couple of days) and it looks as though I’m going to have a fun time in store for me. And by fun, I mean certain chores around the house needing to be done. Yeah, I’m sort of doing the cleaning here at the homestead. Not half as much as I would like to do, but enough to make the place feel just a little bit more clean. Moe’s currently on the chairs at the table, miffed with me because he wanted to sit on my shoulder — and by that I mean get into my arm like a toddler and sprawl out. Can’t have that and try to type out a journal entry too as he takes out one arm in the process. So it’s looking all depressed and passive-aggressive in my general direction while he waits for the signal that it’s safe to come back and be an attention whore.

I’m getting better at handling my anger whenever I think of the douche bags in the Valley. I still have random flare-ups when I remember everything that they did in a split-second, but instead of trying to suppress it, I simply embrace it and reason with myself into remembering that they’re out of my life and with that, I should simply let go of that anger. I calm down rather well, though there have been more than one time that I’ve thought to myself, “they still deserve to get the shit beat out of them, just to remind them that it’s what they truly need to stop being the users, liars and thieves that they are…”

My sleep patterns have been completely screwed up. Seems that I’m getting those sort of ½ hour naps when my head hits the pillow at night, only to find myself up for the next three hours trying to get my restless mind to stop racing at a 1,000 miles per hour. Then I’m out for the next 4 – 5 hours and then it’s off to a new day. Sure I nap during the afternoon — no more than an hour — and I’m getting my fair share of 6 – 7 hours sleep through the course of a day.. But it would be nice if it were all at once. I won’t force it too badly; well not yet anyway. At least I’m energetic through the day, and in spite of the staggered hours of sleep I’m actually in better spirits now than I was in the last couple of years, so it’s something, no?

Dreams still come and go strongly, and I’ve noticed in the last couple of weeks, I’ve had a healthy smattering of sexual and erotic dreams. Not sure if it’s because of the change of environment, or the fact that spring is once again in the air, but at least it’s not quite so asexual (or third-person observer) as it has been the last few years. Of course, last night’s dream involved Rick and while it wasn’t anything too intimate (thank the maker there), it was enough to give me pause this morning when I woke up for the final time. I know it has to do with the fact that about a week ago, I made comment about him to someone (can’t remember exactly where or to who) and the way that I told that person, I did my usual remembering the 4½ years all at once. I know from experience that sort of mnemonic recall always causes me to have dreams associated to the subject-matter.

Nothing much else from me at the moment… Oh wait, that’s not quite true. I remember spring is in the air, and this means queerfolk are crawling my profile on one of the local LGBT sites I’m still registered on. Because it’s the Rhode Island area, that means Lilliputians. We’re talking 5’7″ (170 cm) and shorter. And the worst part is that many of them are looking for a “dad” type. Let me just say I’m not… I just corrected my profile there to say, “…I’m also not a ‘dad’. Think of me more like a crazy uncle you leave your kids with if you want them hyped up on sugar and ready to revolt against order & discipline by the time you pick them up…” That should be enough for those under 30 to leave me alone, or run away pronto when they realize I’m not there to be dad and support their ass as they refuse to grow-the-hell-up. There’s better ways of maintaining one’s youth — suckling on the teat of another man’s wallet is not one of them.

And truly, that’s it for the time being. Off to have some water and then walk the dog. Oh the “fun” of a 95 pound (43 Kg) Chocolate Labrador that thinks he’s alpha of all he surveys. Even if that all he surveys is around an apartment complex and .6 miles (.9 km) there and back again. Until the next time.

The Slow Road… And distractions and petty annoyances

Entry 03/29/2014 11:34:07 AM – Mentat 692

Coffee? Check.

Grocery Shopping? Long since done.

Cleaning? Well, sort of. It’s clean but not a spring cleaning. Then again I still want it warmer.

I’m mostly accomplished, although the cleaning I keep wanting to push off. Not surprising really as I want full sunshine (not this mostly overcast nonsense), and it to be warm enough to having all the windows open. Sure, I have a couple of windows open right now, but it’s not the sort of spring-time warmth I want. Plus there’s threats of rain today which means the windows might not be left open for much longer. My sleep’s been rather clapped out the last week or so… Partially because of the fact that I’m dreaming vividly and surrealistically since moving back to the Hill (and away from the oppression and anger) I experienced in the Valley the last 2+ years. Partially because well, it’s that sort of meh kind of weather where it’s not too cold yet not too warm that it’s causing my sinuses to feel especially blocked. At least last night, I got about 5 hours of uninterrupted sleep before I woke up just prior to dawn, and then took advantage of a 90-minute nap before getting up again. I’m not too sure whether I like what I’ve read of those cycles. On the one side, I feel really energized after that nap. On the other, it takes a full 20 minutes to kick start my brain (and body) before feeling better. And lord knows, I despise feeling that drag-ass when I get up. I might try those a bit more in days to come; because I like the sort of focus I’m feeling after one of these naps — and was even mildly impressed with the fact that I was doing math in my head before the morning coffee. (As I said on the way to the market… “what can I say? I’m lazy with math. After all, that’s what my phone or computer are for…”)

Through the week, I was sort of prodded by mother and aunt about when I was going to go to call up my health care provider and make arrangements for seeing a Psychologist/Psychiatrist. I told the two of them through the course of the years (and after my parent’s divorce), I’ve seen about four (two of which were social workers). In the 4 months of seeing them, I’ve encountered very similar methods between the four: basically shelling out about $80 a week for them to just sit there and listen to me. When I asked each of them near the end of the sessions, they all said pretty much the same thing, “we didn’t see the need to guide you through this, as you had a very good idea on what you wanted to deal with…” Basically told me that I was healing myself and they didn’t need to do anything more than listen.

So I said to both of them, “what’s the need for seeing a shrink, for $1,200+ if all they’re going to do is listen?” After all, I’ve been working on a journal since I was 17 and posting it online for the world to see since 1999. Which accomplishes the exact same thing as having an impartial listener(s) for free. Because when it comes down to it — getting over the anger and rage that I have is going to be a long and slow process — regardless of listeners (paid and unpaid).

I assured them both though, I will eventually go see one. Providing of course, I avoid the pitfall of finding a psychologist/psychiatrist that feels the need to prescribe pills for problems (a solution I despise of most doctors in the medical field), and I understand fully what it is that I need help on.

I’m beginning to see that Moe and my mother’s dog Jack seem to share the same wavelength. They both seem to go crazy about the same time of the day (and even week)… They both disobey for the same reasons (and of course on the same day). They even seem to get more needy (or independent) at about the same time too. They even tend to binge and starve around the same time with their own food (although Jack tends to eat more table scraps than Moe; who eats none really). At least the good thing that comes out of this is that I can be prepared for it when I walk Jack in the morning or afternoon when he’s out on his leash and patrolling his neck of the neighborhood…. Because believe me… having an almost 100 pound chocolate lab that lunges at people to lick them, or attack rival dogs can be quite a pull for anyone not prepared. And I’ve been yanked off my feet by his pulling on a number of occasions.

While I haven’t been driven enough to write that short story I’ve hinted at in the last journal entries, on the bright side my dream states have been more mundane. Well by mundane I mean not something that would make Lovecraft or Poe or (Clive) Barker proud. Though there have been a couple of those sort of dreams going on peppered through my nighttime sleep. Heck, I’ve even had a sexually charged dream once or twice (alright six times) in the last couple of weeks. The good thing is that they weren’t so much the, “oh my god, really!? Not again!?” sort of dreams, but instead more the, “well that was definitely entertaining and amusing.” Can’t remember any of them for the last week — other than this morning’s — but that one was only because I’ve been visiting the rage and impatience for the two douche nozzles while explaining to my mother and aunt the three no’s when it comes to truly causing me rage (e.g., Theft, Pathological Lies, and Using people). At least when I woke up, I wasn’t angry, but simply wondering whether this dream was representative of the impending cleaning storm I have to do for this apartment.

On the good side, I’ve finally worked Free-to-Play for Rift to buy the Storm Legion Souls. I got them this morning before flying out the door to do my monthly groceries. I haven’t tried them out, but the good thing is that they’re there when I’m ready to come back and play.. Especially given that I have 4 character slots on this particular server (shard) as I’m thinking of trying one of each class. On the bad side, I’ve burned through another guild. And this is that story…

I have been in search of a new guild for some time now since leaving the first a couple of months back (because of personal issues with one player). So I warn them in advance that I’m currently shopping for a new guild that fits a certain criteria… They allow for casual players was the biggest. Others that can make or break my staying in a guild/fleet/group is friendliness to new players (as well as regulars), and the rest would be negotiable. So as a low level character I joined another guild warning them that I was shopping and that I had an end-game toon that might join depending on the feel.

At first they were all right with this I was playing a lower level mage at the time when I joined them, although in about a week they were pushing rather insistently for my end-game (Level 60) Rogue to join them for end game raids and seemed insistent as to whether this Rogue were of sufficient stats and gear to be able to do Expert Dungeons and Raids. While I didn’t mind the urgency for my end-level character to join their guild and assured them that there’s no locks on any sort of random (regular or expert) dungeon; they seemed to be all right, and left the nagging feeling I had on the back burner. So I joined with the rogue and they even helped with getting one stat up to their requirements for an end-game raid (Hit: 400). Granted my character was already “Raid Ready” with its Tier II PvE gear, but their standard while being higher was seemed sensible and graciously accepted the gift of a necklace to bring my Hit Stat above 400.

I remember over the last week or so that there was talk about a raid and then they set a raid for the weekend. I thought that it was going to be on Saturday, but found out last night that it was then, and insistently they wanted me to come in with my end-game character instead. Another nag, that I gave in to.

I told them right off the bat that I’ve never done a raid and the last two guilds I was part of; they were both not remotely high enough in level and geared for even Expert Dungeons. I explained that I can do rather well taking orders as well as having it explained to me any quirks of the scenario that we would be going into. The person that I was chatting with from the guild at the time seemed uninterested with this piece of information and continued to insist (too much) that I should be a bard (a support/healer role).

I told him several times in voice chat and in type that I haven’t worked with the class and it would take weeks before I would be up to mastering that role for the character.

He continued to seem to insist this in spite of my telling him that I was a more than adequate Area-of-Effect Damage Dealer, and an average Single-Target Damage Dealer that I should be/they needed a Bard.

Mildly annoyed, I ignored him after that until the raid started.

In the raid I told them once again I don’t do well being thrown into the deep end of an unknown mission and that as a virgin if they tell me what to expect, I’ll do better at keeping up with the group. The Raid leader (and officer for the guild) agreed he’d keep the new people in the loop during the mission. And no, I wasn’t the only new person for this guild-raid.

Of course, he didn’t tell the new people anything to expect. Which were the mobs, who was the boss and what kind of quirks the boss can throw at the group. He didn’t tell us how treasure was doled out (not the typical raid/dungeon of Need or Greed), how one conducts themselves in voice-chat/typing chat when it’s a mixed Guild/PUG group.

On one instance, I learned after the fact, and didn’t set my character role properly for maximum damage. I didn’t realize I had to “/roll” instead of the usual need/greed popup box (and because of it didn’t get any of the end boss loot). On the other, I completely botched the boss fight and we all died. When it was criticized that my DPS was under 3,000, I typed out I couldn’t find my rhythm with this boss (which was why my DPS was so low), I got chastised in voice-chat that I shouldn’t say that sort of thing as the PUGs could rage quit. The person that did so did it with the same level of condescension demonstrated because I couldn’t play a Bard according to his requirements.

I snapped back at the person that chastised me, that my admissions wouldn’t be so big a problem (as they were making it out to be) given that for most of the dungeon so far, I was ranked #2 in damage dealing, exceeding several veterans by significant points in the process.

The second time through the boss that we failed with, it turned out that the two people that were new to the raid did in fact survive and beat the boss (and the rest had died horribly), but by that point I was fed up with the guild and the raid on the whole and left. Both to cool off as well as play a game I was sure to do well with (Warframe).

I talked a bit with Glenn after that souring experience and realized that this was much like getting a new job and on the first day of starting it, the manager shows you the desk, computer and phone you’ll be working from and as the manager walks away says, “good luck with your job…” No training, no what to expect, not even basic explanations of what to expect — other than perhaps the feeling I was last choice for the position because: …I wasn’t a Bard…

So this morning, another “not a good fit” e-mail to the officer that recruited me, monies paid for the necklace given and off to the wilds to being a free-agent after a good nap and a couple of cups of coffee…

And that folk, is another example of the bad side of gaming. I think I’ll end it here for the time being. I spend too much time a distraction than the actual issues. I’ll be back another time and try again. Until the next time.

Facing the Anger while Healing

Entry 03/23/2014 08:07:29 PM – Mentat 691

It’s been just over a couple of weeks since I last wrote, and just over a month since I’ve moved into the new place. And while I’ve had a million and one ideas of dealing with the DIY catastrophe of this apartment, I’ve been (not so strangely) avoiding wanting to even do any of the spring cleaning necessary prior to doing the actual project. Part of me has been slack about it because the weather’s just not been the right sort of warm to open the windows and shake out the dust, cobwebs (metaphorically speaking) and what not of the place. It’s an excuse I know, but a good one nonetheless. Sure, I’ve been maintaining the place well enough; cleaning where I need to… The rest? Eh, It can wait another day as I wait patiently for spring to come…

Part of me has been taking advantage of the quiet to heal from the two years of anger, rage, frustration and overwhelming want to beat the living shit out of two douche-bags as a means of working out that anger and rage. But there’s another part of me that I’ve come to realize isn’t wanting to heal at all… More on that in a moment or two though.

Moe’s being a bit of a quirk since moving to the new place. It’s been as though his mood and temperament changed based entirely on the change of environment. Sure, there’s parts of him that I recognize as the cat that first came into my life November last year… His strange neediness that hits after I’ve come to pet him or give him attention when he’s been quiet and/or napping. The fact that he’s wanting to be up around my face and neck when I’m sitting up and playing/working/watching something on my computer and yet the instant I lay down for the night, he will only sleep at the foot of the bed. And of course his talking to me whenever he comes walking up, or when I so much as pet him. Not so much the typical warning of a cat to a stranger, just… Likes to hear him (and me) speak.

Then there’s the other parts that I don’t recognize at all. His climbing up on anything he can reach to watch me or the house in general (his three favorite places are the lowest shelf in the cupboard, the top of the fridge once again, and the chest of drawers in the bedroom). His use of the center rug in the kitchen as a scratching post, completely ignoring the cardboard scratcher that’s over by the bathroom like it used to be in the other apartment. His fascination to almost obsession with completely wrecking my blanket from the underside of the bed at 2 – 3 in the morning while I’m sleeping. Like his getting into my portable closet to wreck the seam at the bottom… And of course at 2 – 3 in the morning while I’m sleeping. My personal favorite has to be the fact that he’ll sleep on one of the chairs at the table in the kitchen if I don’t make the bed… And the instant the bed is made, he’ll make his way back into the room to sleep on it. Or him sitting there in front of the microwave staring up at it… I can’t be sure whether he’s trying to figure out if it’s safe to jump up on, or not. He’s done nothing toward it so far… Other than staring at it. Though I’m sure it’s only a matter of time before he works out whether it’s something for him to get on top.

The neighborhood’s surprisingly quiet being that much closer to Atwells Avenue, Federal Hill and of course Tammany Hall. Sure, there have been a couple of moments during closing time of the Hall that I’m seriously wishing to buy a dozen eggs just to use on the drunken bastards that think that their lives are the only one that matters in a mixed commercial/residential neighborhood, but at least so far… with the windows closed and it still being more than a bit chilly — they don’t normally make half as much noise as they’re capable of. I’m sure though come the later spring to early summer; that sort of nonsense is going to change. I remember even down in the Valley the drunken disorderly noise that used to happen with the college kids after midnight.

I recently met with Mel the other day (the sister to the woman that used to live here in this apartment) and she had asked whether or not I had moved in. Told her (while I had been walking Jack) that I’d been there almost a month. She commented that her mother (that lives on the first floor) commented that she can’t hear me up here. I explained that I’m usually quiet (well other than the occasional talking to myself and other random noises) and that I prefer it that way.

Heh, walking away I realized I might have painted myself as the serial killer or axe murderer type of, “…he was always a quiet one… kept to himself…” sort of person. Not that I mind too much… At least people will give me the room I like for privacy and quiet.

So as I mentioned earlier… There are two parts of me that are sort of in conflict with each other: the part that wants to get over the anger and rage, and the other part that doesn’t. I know the part that doesn’t is a form of stubbornness of not wanting to let go. Of wanting to exact the retribution against two people I deem as scum that deserve as much grief as they have given me. I also know it’s going to be a long and slow process of moving on… As it was reinforced several times during my walk down to the local supermarket for necessities (bread, milk, etc.) that the closer I got to the old address, the more anger, aggression and pent up rage I felt, and my sort of ‘gearing up for possible retribution’ if I were to ever see them. Sure, I haven’t (so far), but the potential for it happening is really too great. And I’m sort of concerned I might follow through if only to see whether or not I can (or will).

The other problem I’m finding myself… concerned about is the fact that I’m having difficult times focusing on something. Take this journal entry for example. While I should have been able to write this out in an hour (and not almost an hour and a half at the moment) I’ve been distracted by doing at least twenty different things while writing it. Previews or a web series (or two) on YouTube. Looking up various information on actors here and there. Hell, I’ve tried even listening to easier to listen to music (classical, pop, some new wave) and I find I am unable to form my thoughts coherently enough for what I need to talk about. In fact, I get the impression that the problem is the closer I come to dealing with thoughts or emotions on the subject of this rage — the more I go out of my way to avoid it. Hell, even now while it’s quiet in my head — as I am only listening to the whispering sound of the fans on my PC case, I have in a small part of my screen — Man of Steel playing. It’s enough to keep my eyes a bit distracted — but not enough for me to immerse and run from the subject at hand.

I know this is a means of avoidance. I’ve done it in the past when I was going through the break up after Rick. It’s different this time, though. Back when I broke up with Rick I had been beaten down to the point of almost feeling soulless. And that path up from the depths of the purgatory I had put myself into because of that relationship was a long and slow path. This time it’s more like a hell that’s going to have me taking a different path to walk. One that feels as though it’s going to take me to learn how to apply myself forward, instead of running away (and distracting myself) the instant any of my buttons are pushed. Especially when I push the buttons myself.

Well, that’s about it for the moment. Next up, I’m going to try to apply myself in the near future to trying to write a short story. If only to help rehabilitate my ability to focusing more. Until the next time…