Monthly Archive for February, 2007

Page 3 of 7

PC Support Gibberish

Published on February 22, 2007 in Soapbox. 3 Comments

I’m big time irritated…argh! OMG irritated beyond irritated. I have no use of my CDR or CD-RW. None, nada, zip, zilch. I’ve looked on the net to see what to do but I have no effing idea what they’re talking about. they throw in 100 different possibilities then ask, was this

cdrom.JPG

helpful then leave no option where you can say hell no I prefer my help in effing English not code gibberish. I don’t know what the effe you’re talking about. You haven’t helped with anything but raising my effing blood pressure with now thanks to you is near stroke level. You effing nonsupporting bastards. But no, that “have we helped you” option doesn’t show up. Okay, I will not pull out what’s left of my hair today. OMG! Who came up with system restore and system recovery, system volume and all that crap? Why does this have to be written in gibberish? MY GOD!!! It’s like the instructions are written so that you fall on the floor crying then get up and call a PC guy to come help while you’re on the phone with your effing therapist cause you can’t handle that your effing CDR what the effing ever doesn’t work. LORD! I just want to toss in a CD. With no CD use I …….whatever! What the effe ever! I could do a whole effing system restore but you know what? If I don’t get use of my drives back I’m in big trouble even after that restore, recover, resuscitate crap. I just want to use my dang on drives. I tried the Help thing but either the screen won’t open or it opens then shuts itself down after a few seconds so using the troubleshoot option doesn’t help either cause I can’t get it to open or when it does it wont stay open. I just want to use the effing drives so if anyone has any instructions in ENGLISH not code gibberish then please leave a comment on my blog or if you know me then email me. I’ll be at the coffee maker smoking square after square.

Note to self- get a effing Mac. And stop cursing so damn much. Everybody knows what effing means.
Note to self- When real stuff bothers you little shit like the PC seems insurmountable. This is where you walk away and stop trying to fix shit because you’re going to do something desperate and jack up the whole system.

Secret Houses Dream

Published on February 22, 2007 in Dissociative Identity Disorder and Dreams. 1 Comment

Three story house…actually three full houses on top of one another in the appearance of one home. The top two houses weren’t visible to others, they were a secret. The lady on the third level was hiding from someone who was trying to kill her, a man. I was on the very top level, the third, and watched him try and kill her by opening automatic gun fire while she slept in her bed with no guards to warn her of his presence. She survived and got herself a body guard, a woman who owned a teenager. Now, that’s a typo kinda…it’s just how it came out of my mouth/mind. This woman had a teenage daughter but for some reason while typing it out it came out as she owned a teenage daughter. I figured the slips are nearly as relevant as the actual events in the dream so I type that part out too. So anyway, I was extra careful to not let anyone in my part of the house. I barricaded my front door with the dining room table and some other things but left the table still functional.

There was a knock at my door. I tried to look out of the window to see who was there but I couldn’t see anyone. They had two bags of groceries with them but I couldn’t see them. I opened the peep hole which happened to be the size of a dinner plate. I could see my sisters face, she was smiling that silly smile of hers and said to let her in, it was cold out there. It really was. All the run off from the snow created flooding and her feet were wet. I opened the door and she squeezed past a 6 inch gap I’d left so people couldn’t enter my home UNLESS they knew how to pass such a small opening. She came in and we chatted as if we’d been friends all our lives instead of put at odds by the mother.

Later in the dream I noticed a man outside dragging a net against the current. There were certain fisher’s nets used by local store owners, they were all metal with teeth that scooped up the kind of fish they were licensed to catch. It scooped up only one type of fish and left the others behind. The water level was rising and rushing past my house with increasing speeds. I saw a black and white striped fish and an oversize gold fish floating at the top of the water. An alligator waited by a small land mass for a different type of fishing.

I’d been standing at the window looking down at the water for quite some time when I spotted a horse on its side, stuck in the mud, its head barely above water. I called my sister over to the window. She said it was way too pretty to be a boy. At that time the horse rose high enough out of the mud for us to see it was a pregnant mare. Our hearts dropped. I ran to the phone to call someone but I couldn’t remember any emergency phone numbers. I couldn’t remember 911 and the numbers I jotted down for animal rescue made no sense to me. When I finally called a number correctly I got an automated line, press 1 if it’s a dog, press 2 if it’s a cat, press 3 if it’s this, blah, blah, blah then finally the message telling me they’re out of the office. While on the phone with the automated helpers the horse floated out of site so I was unable to see her anymore. It seemed like forever on the phone; surely she must have drowned or frozen. I wasn’t sure and I wanted to go check, to go pull her out of the water myself but I knew I didn’t have the strength, and although I let people in the house I didn’t myself know how to get out. I’d come in a long time ago but I no longer knew how to get out. A few minutes later emergency crews came rushing by my window to rescue the horse. I gave them the thumbs up as they pulled her out and drove her to safety. I woke up after that.

I found it interesting that at first no one knew two houses existed on top of one house, which housed a family I knew nothing about. As the dream progressed the house became more visible and more accessible to others but I was still trapped inside it. I couldn’t come and go at will, even when the situation warranted it or when I wanted to leave. I find that to be very telling. I know why I dreamed about being trapped in my own home. I understand the symbolism behind a multi level house with two of its levels secret as well as the super small opening that allowed others to come and go. Basically, I know why I had this dream. Yesterday’s therapy session was a doozy. The therapy assignment should be fun, fun like standing in the freezing rain with no coat then walking a electric high wire with no buffer kinda fun.

Three Houses In One-Secret Houses Dream
Thursday, February 22, 2007-1:21PM EST
Joan of Arc for Morton’s Pride

What’s for dinner?

Published on February 20, 2007 in For the Record and Soapbox. 4 Comments

Tues-02-20-07/4:29PM EST
Self one: So what’s for dinner?
Self two: I don’t know I haven’t checked the FDA recall list yet.

Self one: Are we going to the grocery store today? Do you have your list?
Self two: I do but you know it changes according to what’s declared contaminated so grab the FDA recall list.

Self one is putting on cold cream.
Self two yells: Hold on! Has that cream been recalled? She checks the list. Okay, you’re safe. It hasn’t made the list……yet!

General letter from companies with contaminated products:
Dear Vegetarian Consumers,
Just because we had contaminated spinach, lettuce and now cantaloupe doesn’t mean you can’t trust us to give you fresh products. Our products will have the fresh bacteria of salmonella, guaranteed! To all our living consumers, we thank you for continuing to put your life in our hands,
sincerely,
The growers of products that’ll kill ya.
PS. Shoulda just stuck with cloned beef.

Dear lovers of Peter Pan,
I’m sorry to say the boy in tights has flown off shelves because it contains salmonella with the possibility of tainting your children who have somehow managed to remain untainted from TV, violent video games and internet predators. We regret to inform you that all the safety measures you took have worked with everyone but us. Sorry!
sincerely,
The makers of the fairy product
PS. Reece’s Peanut Butter ice cream topping has been recalled too because salmonella got to it too. Snack time has changed forever. Thanks

The President of the United States- Hey secret service guy taste this peanut butter cookie, see if you drop dead.
Secret Service Guy- No Sir Mr. President, I’ll take a bullet for you but not salmonella poisoning.

Now to address the issue of terrorism and food contamination. Nah, I don’t believe it. The FDA has been recalling food for years. We are more aware of it now, more pissed than ever that simple foods come with a question mark. Can I eat this and be healthy? Does eating 5 to 9 fruits and veggies put me at greater risk than if I just stick to chips and candy? Nope, it doesn’t because even candy has been recalled as well as cough drops and medical supplies due to packaging errors. Foods have been recalled because the manufacturer failed to mention egg and milk content, oils used for frying (pies, chips, etc) are recalled for being contaminated with mold and so on. The truth is, neglect is what makes our products get recalled. I seriously doubt that terrorists would be content with the slow process of poisoning Peter Pan and veggies. They seem to prefer to fly planes into buildings and blow stuff up. So no, I do not personally believe that terrorists have attacked Peter Pan or the Dole company (makers of the freshest salmonella anywhere). But then, who am I? I’m not a political expert. I hope you didn’t come to my journal for expert info on the government. You’ll be disappointed because all you’ll find here are cheap shots at companies I use to trust so don’t go quoting me. I’m not a happy consumer but I’m fully aware Dole is operating on borrowed time. They won’t recover from such major problems in a short period of time. It may take a year or two but Dole is in big trouble with the latest out break. Now that you can quote me on.

I’ll be growing my own veggies real soon. Strawberry vines, blueberry bushes, raspberry thingies (?) and other fruits can be purchased and planted. For those of us with limited income these items can be purchased on food stamps. You can also purchase vegetable plants such as carrots, melons, spinach, lettuces, greens and herb plants on food stamps. I’ll do that and pray global warming didn’t cut winter too short to properly freeze the ground. I don’t want problems in my own backyard.

So what IS for dinner? Greek salad, grilled chicken, side of pasta. Later coffee and a private concert with Anita Baker- compliments of Napster.

Self Management Amongst Mockery

Published on February 20, 2007 in Mental Health, Relationships and Soapbox. 4 Comments

Barney came home early. I wish he hadn’t. It seems Barney thinks its appropriate to tell this black woman that black people will be most affected by the recall of chicken. I know, I know, forget him, don’t let it get to you Austin, he’s stupid, not worth your time. Well, the truth is, stuff like that hurts, especially when you’re not expecting it. I tried to cool off but I kept getting madder and madder. I wanted to cut just to ease the tension. I walked out of the house today determined not to hurt myself just because someone else hurt me. I walked a bit then shot the breeze with a friend at the Quickie Mart for about twenty minutes and came home. I left the TV on when I went for my short walk and when I came back the Craig Ferguson show was on. He usually tears stars to pieces but today we saw the man and recovering alcoholic behind the comedian. I like him! He traded in jokes for a nice speech on how he got sober, about how alcohol saved his life as well as almost took it. I believe he said what really needs to be said about all the bashing going around. People forget that Brittany Spears is a human being with a problem, that Lindsey Lohan is a young woman, a baby, on a path of destruction dragging other young girls who want to be her with her. Craig talked about this being his 15th year anniversary of being sober. He said 15 years ago he had many week ends like the one Brittany had. I like that he brought the human aspect back into this whole deal. He even talked about how horrible it is that people are still attacking Anna Nicole Smith. She’s dead for crying out loud let her go. My goodness!

If I can get a hold of the YouTube.com version of Craig’s pleadings to alcoholics I’ll post it on this journal. I think it’s something everyone needs to hear, addict or not. He pointed out that whatever a person’s illness is they have to deal with it. So in my opinion he spoke not just for alcoholics but for people with bipolar disorder, for people with major depression, eating disorders or a physical ailment. He said everyone knows an alcoholic. He said you’ve either worked for one, worked with one, have a brother, an uncle, a son or daughter with an alcohol problem or you’re married to one. I say, everyone knows someone with a mental illness or a physical problem that they have to keep in check every single day of their life. We all know someone with a mental problem be it schizophrenia, schizo-effective disorder, bi polar disorder, OCD, borderline personality disorder and other mental health issues. Those of us living with these issues know for certain it is hurtful to hear jokes and see “us” looked at as if we are freaks or something to be laughed at.

People forget that we are all just people with breakable hearts; capable of having too much emotional pull, that we are as strong and as weak emotionally as the next person…..they forget that emotions are not replaced by alcoholism a mental illness. We feel every single solitary sting just as those who do not live with these issues. In the same manner fat does not replace human feelings so when you laugh you hurt others. Is your one moment of teasing worth the possibility that this person will go home feeling they just can’t do it anymore, they just can’t live with their personal struggle anymore and be the target of jokes and badmouthing. Is personal humiliation not enough, must you add your laughter to it? How the hell do you think Brittany felt when she found out she’d shaven her head? I’m sure it felt much like how I felt when dissociating and shaving mine. It’s humiliating! Do you really need to laugh about it on the net or the news?

So this is my message to gossips-

All of you so called comedians such as David Letterman and Jay Leno, you rag mags, rag shows and rag blogs who post crap about human beings, you have taken a liberty that does not belong to you. You’ve crossed lines you should not cross and take other people’s lives and toss them around for profit. When you sell mags and make jokes about dead mother’s and rake in the money to buy your homes, cars and other objects you do so with blood money. You people make me sick.

My roommate is an asshole. Why he decided to say what he said today I have no clue. And yes it did hurt my feelings and it still makes me want to cry. Even if I do it will not wash away the fact that I dealt with my issue of self injury very well. I didn’t cut. I walked it off. I took the dog with me because it was friggin midnight but I walked it off. Instead of hurting myself I got a bit of exercise and fresh air. It’s the best way I can counter his stupidity and keep my issues under control. Perhaps the best way to counter their laughter and gain some sort of control is to get help for whatever ails you. In doing so you might one day stand in front of people and tell them just how you managed to pull yourself together despite laughter and ridicule. Bravo Craig Ferguson. I appreciate your words this evening.

Listen to Craig’s monologue.

I wish you all well,

Me

Self Management Amongst Mockery
Tuesday, February 20, 2007-12:57 midnight EST

WTF? You Crazy B*tch

Published on February 20, 2007 in For the Record, Humor and Relationships. 2 Comments

Tuesday February 20th, 2007 3:09AM EST

This morning when I was cleaning I heard what I thought was Blossom saying my name. I thought she was in the house so I walked out in the living room (attitude in full force) and looked around. Nothing. I went back in the bedroom to finish up and I heard it again, just as clearly as before. So I walked right back out to the living room, nothing. I was like, OMG the stress is getting to me. Now I’m hearing voices. I went back in the room and it happened again, that’s when I realized it was the wooden fence blowing in the wind and rubbing against the house. The fence is right against the wall beside my bed. For some reason it sounded like my first name when being blown in the wind. You know how metal creeks an erie creek, sometimes with a higher pitch just before the final bend then break? That’s the sound it was making. I can’t explain it but it. I was bending over to the floor when I heard it that third time. When I realized what it was I fell over on the bed laughing. I thought I’d really hit the major stress button. I’m hearing voices now. The weatherman said it would be windy but goodness, does it have to bend the fence and make it rub against the house so it sounds like my friggin name? If it’s not one thing it’s another. At least this one thing or another I can laugh about.

Brake ups are complicated. I’ve been to a few of our regular hang outs and of course they ask, where’s Blossom? I hold back from saying, “that crazy bitch and I broke up.” I put it nicely. “Oh, we broke up.” They’re shocked. I don’t offer more info even when they ask for it. If they only knew I thought the wind was her calling my name they’d think I was the crazy one. She may have screwed me over big time but I’ll refrain from writing it on the calendar.

I’m still having some major issues with this but it seems I’m doing bitter better. I intend to deal with it with humor. I think the wind intends to play along.

Blitz Cleaning

Published on February 19, 2007 in For the Record and Pets. 3 Comments

Blitz Cleaning
Monday, February 19, 2007

Friday I steam cleaned the living room and all the throw rugs as well as the love seat. Sunday six loads of laundry were folded and put away, some boxed up and some hung. I called it a success. I then washed all the parts of my Mr. Bissell in prep for today’s fine tuning to the carpets. A wet rag will rake across the computer desk (whose top I can actually see now). It’ll go across my dresser and night stand (which I accurately described to Velvet Sacks as being the colour of dust). Whatever colour they were before is now in the past. They’re the colour of dust now. We must not hang on to the past, let the original colour go cause dust has moved in…it’s eviction notice is today because I have a nice rag to polish away this intruder. Next is the hutch and then the China cabinet, also victims of the dust monster. Ya know, once a dust bunny gets so big it’s no longer a bunny it’s a monster. But that monster must be tamed. I want my house back and with Blossom gone I can go through it and clean until I drop. I won’t be cleaning the fur lined curtains though; they’ll stand as a reminder that life doesn’t have to be perfect. Okay, that’s not true; it’s just that there is too much involved in taking them down, removing the fur lining, washing them then putting them back up. That’s too much. I’d rather focus on the dust.

Gracie and Bella 7 months ago or so

In my cleaning frenzy I washed Captain then clipped the hair between his toes and clipped his nails. I then wiped Gracie clean and trapped Bella to do the same. They got their nails clipped too. Both of them are somewhat pissed right now. I had to give them canned food to appease them but it doesn’t mean I won’t be calling them your highness for the next few days. This is my favorite picture of the two of them together. I wouldn’t call this obsessive cleaning because I’ve spread it out over several days. If I were truly in a cleaning frenzy I’d have gotten all this done in one day. I’m quite happy to say I listened to my body. When my bones creaked I stopped cleaning. I’m cleaning without OCD impulses which means I don’t have to file this under mental health just pets and general chatter.

Like any good deed accomplished I have to have a reward for myself. Lime and pepper baked fish, baked potato, snap beans and garlic bread. That’s right! One tub filled with hot water and bubbles followed by a few chapters of the book “Fall On Your Knees” by Ann-Marie Macdonald. According to The O (Oprah) this book is about: Moving from Cape Breton Island to the bleak landscape of World War I and the emerging jazz scene in New York City, this epic tale tells the story of four unforgettable sisters. This is a story of inescapable family bonds, of terrible secrets, of miracles, murder, passion and forbidden love. Now who wouldn’t want to read that? I love The O’s book club. She’s so cool. No matter whatcha say about her O is still cool in my book. We must not forget that during my bubble bath John Mayer will give me a private concert courtesy of Napster. He’ll bring along with him Damien Rice, James Blunt and new comer Brett Dennen. It shall be an evening to remember.

Later taters,
Austin

Down The Tubes

Published on February 19, 2007 in For the Record, Humor and Stupid People. 1 Comment

I was listening to the television from the other room at the hour where everything is either a religious show or an infomercial. I got busy and stopped paying attention, which was my first mistake. It seems that a TV evangelist team thinks that if I end up in hell it’ll be my preachers fault. Time to turn the channel. I flipped from a program that swore up and down they could get me a new car. Then I flipped to a channel where another TV team promised the bullet would be the last bender I ever purchased. Next channel. Now on the TV screen a man dances in front of a woman with a serious boob job. I’m shocked! Why would anyone choose to be that big? So they hinted at him pulling “something” out of his pants. The girl is shocked. I figure it’s time to turn the channel. I walk away and get back to the tons of laundry on my to-do list. When I came back in the same channel had what appeared to be a singer summonsing the devil. I figured conjuring demons isn’t up my alley and turned the channel from MTV back to regular TV so I could be assaulted by commercials selling me life or death. You know, the commercials that tell you if you live after taking their break through drug you’ll be cured. If you don’t stroke out, if you’re not part of the rare occurrence where people get tuberculosis, go blind or go from shortness of breath to no breath at all then you’re cured. If you’ve ever had an infection or are prone to infections don’t count on a cure but if you take their stuff and your stomach doesn’t bleed and your intestines don’t rot then you’re cured…..But see, this is all my fault because I walked away from the TV expecting something reasonable to show up. I should have just thrown in a movie.
Austin

Down The Tubes
Monday, February 19, 2007-4:43AM EST