Something dug up the mummified squirrel that I buried. There was nothing left to eat, of course, which extra-peeves me; this thing was lying out for ages, why wasn't it eaten before? Stupid raccoon or skunk or whatever. I'll have to bury it again.

What's more disturbing is that I also found another mummified rodent not that far from where I'd found the first--in the exact same place, I believe, in fact, right at the base of the chimney. If anything it looks like a hamster! This is even more unsettling as years ago I lost a hamster--she escaped her cage and I never saw her again. I know this here can't be that hamster as that was probably well over a decade ago, but I always wondered, what if she went off and started breeding with wild rodents or something...? I don't think it possible for their offspring to multiply, but I haven't a clue what this dead thing could be. It does not look like a squirrel, a chipmunk, a mouse, a mole, or a shrew. Aside from the size (it's about as big as a smallish chipmunk), it looks exactly like my escaped dwarf hamster--same color (light tawny gray), same shape, same lack of a visible tail. Except that the back feet seem longer, like they're made to jump, but it's been so long since I had a hamster that I can't recall if their feet are like that. Bizarre. I wish I knew what the heck it is.

Back the original point--where are these mummified animals coming from?? Two in a row, in the same place? Is something shoving them out of the chimney? If so, what, and why were they in there in the first place, and how long have they been in there, and are there any others I should expect to find? This is all really disturbing to me, finding these little dried-up dead animals whenever I go outside. Uck.

I hope the few people I owe mails to aren't angry with me.

Jeez, I still haven't even typed up my trip to the island. Ugh, I just have too much to do. -_- I'm not even halfway through my photos! I can't even bear the thought of UPLOADING them all...*sigh.* Even when I do get a good connection speed, the connection seems unreliable and can stop functioning at any time--I'm fairly certain now it's the phonelines and not the ISP as the static has returned. So frustrating.

Tar for now...

 

I just must be cursed in regards to the mental health clinic or something. The last time, when Psychologist made the next four appointments, she wrote them down on the back of a card and the next was for July 2. I wrote it down and everything. Come July 2, I call them around 9:30 to make sure it's still on and all I get is the answering machine saying they're closed yet their opening hours are at 8:30! So I wake Ma up anyway and let her know. I call them again an hour later right before we leave--still the answering machine saying they're closed yet they open at 8:30. Why would she schedule me for a day when they're closed? But why would they be closed on the 2nd?

We go to see what's going on. The receptionist or whatever says I'm not listed for that day. (And here comes the look on my face which says "I KNEW IT." ) But she'll check. Takes like fifteen minutes because they're very busy. At last she tells me no, my appointment is for July 9, which makes more sense timewise, but still, I could have sworn Psychologist had written down 2nd. Ma says we tried to call them but "couldn't get through"--I wish she'd been clearer and had told them THEIR DAMN PHONES WERE TURNED OFF AND SAID THE PLACE WAS CLOSED SO NOBODY COULD CALL IN! So that was an entirely wasted trip. I didn't really want to go in that day, but it would've been a lot nicer if I could've CALLED TO CONFIRM before we drove down there! What if there were other people trying to call in? People who really did need to talk to somebody? People who live a long way away and to just drive there and find out they've been cancelled on would be a huge inconvenience?

Anyway, we then head home and I check the card and YES, she wrote down July 2. Somewhere, something went askew and it wasn't any fault on my end. I'm not mad at her or even at whoever messed up, just at the moron who turned off the phones. Seriously. I get a feeling I'm not MEANT to go to that place.

Now I bet the 9th will roll along and I'll be cancelled on.

I found another dead squirrel beside the chimney. It's pretty old, kind of mummified and with its fur falling off so it's been lying there a while and I never noticed it. Perhaps I should bury that when I'm done here.

Anyway, have to go, tar for now.

 

After waking Ma up for work this morning:

Ma (sleepily): "Did you feel it?"

Me: "Feel what?"

Ma: "I was just swatting a big fat cartoon bumblebee with your hand."

Me: "Nope."



 

Well, I guess it's good I manually (read--copied and pasted EVERY SINGLE LITTLE THING BY HAND) downloaded/saved all the contents of my GeoCities sites a while back in preparation for the site shutdown on October 26, because Yahoo! has yet AGAIN messed up monumentally.

I went to the GeoCities page to see if a shutdown date had been announced yet and if they'd yet given a way for users to download/save their site content as their help page had promised they would. Yes, the date is there and there's a link to save your info. However, when clicked upon, it takes you to some place called "Yahoo! Guesthouse" Yahoo! Corporate Single Login (https://bouncer.gh.corp.yahoo.com/login/ ) and asks you to log in and if you need password help, "Use your account User ID and Password for signing in to any Secure application. If you have forgotten your password or have any other login issues, please contact your respective Yahoo employee contact." (Erm, I have one? ) At the bottom of the page, it informed me that I'd be taken to the GeoCities help page I was looking for AFTER I logged in. (Can't figure out why it wouldn't take me there before, seeing as the previous GeoCities announcement, on the same site, was (and still is) accessible to me without logging into anything weird. Oh, I also can't figure out why the GeoCities page that gave me the link DIDN'T MENTION A THING ABOUT HAVING TO LOG INTO A WEIRD SERVICE I DON'T EVEN BELONG TO!)

Considering that I've never even heard of Guesthouse, I knew this wouldn't work. But I tried logging in anyway--with my Yahoo! GeoCities ID and password, of course, because honestly, what else would you use? And of course, I was told the information was invalid. I. e., Yahoo! tells you they're shutting down your sites, they give you a link to follow to save your info, only after you click the link do they tell you they'll take you there only after you log into this service you don't belong to, then they tell you sorry, you can't log in and save your info.

Wow. Just when I thought they couldn't do anything stupider, they go and surprise me. Way to go, Yahoo!.

I sent a complaint through their GeoCities Help form ("Where and how are users supposed to save their site contents if the link Yahoo! gives them doesn't work?") but I doubt it'll do any good. Sometimes if you want something done right you have to do it yourself, by hand, the hard way, rather than rely on the people who are SUPPOSED to do it for you to get something right for once. Cripes how lame.

 

Went to the island today! Took almost 700 pictures!

More later when I've recovered. My arms are on fire.

 

Well, it finally happened. I had to kill an animal. -_-

Today I spotted a chipmunk lying on the porch step at the front door. It hadn't been there when I'd been out just a little while before, so it had just arrived. It was just lying there with its eyes shut. I went out to see if it was dead or alive since a couple of large flies were worrying it. It moved a bit when I waved the broom at it, and it was breathing, albeit slowly; it almost fell off the step but then pulled itself back up and just lay there. I stood outside with it for a while, trying to shoo the flies away. I'm not sure what was wrong with it; I hope it was just something simple like salmonella and that our cat doesn't get it. There was a skunk AND a raccoon on our porch the previous night, much earlier in the year than they usually start visiting, and I can't get over my worry that they'll be carrying distemper.

It wasn't even three PM yet and Dad wasn't due home for at least an hour or so but I couldn't just leave the poor thing lying there like that. I went and got the shovel, and a stick, to try to nudge and carry it off the porch, but I knew from something Dad had told me that shovels aren't good for killing animals because they're too wide. I'd need something smaller and heavier. The only thing I could think of was a heavy hatchet with a sort of hammerhead on it that Dad had in the basement. So I went to get that and brought it around to the front yard as well and set it down in the grass.

When I tried to nudge the chipmunk into the shovel with the stick, it revived enough to crawl down into the bush where I couldn't reach it. I was crying by now, asking it why it had done that. I spent maybe ten minutes reaching through the iron railings with the stick, slowly nudging and rolling the poor limp thing toward the edge of the bush, then leaving the porch and reaching into the bush to pull it closer. By now it wasn't even fighting me anymore and it ended up curled in a fetal position as if dead already but it was still breathing. I had to pull and nudge some smaller twigs out of the way when it got caught on them and I felt so horrible poking and nudging at it and rolling it along like it was nothing. I at last got it out onto a slab of rock that was covering up the remains of the distempered raccoon Dad shot a year or so back and decided to move it no further as I realized this was a hard surface and thus better than a soft one like the ground. I squatted down by the poor thing, held the hatchet in my hand, and just cried. Several times I positioned it over the chipmunk's head but I couldn't do it. I kept thinking of what would happen if I did it wrong. It'd be okay if I could just kill it and be done with it, but I mess up everything I do, why not this as well? And if I messed this up, I'd mess it up so spectacularly, something else would suffer horribly because of me. But I couldn't just let it lie there and suffer anyway.

I hit the ground lightly with the sharp edge of the hatchet--it would be so much easier to just behead it like I tried to behead that snake, wouldn't it? No, it wouldn't; I hadn't even succeeded in beheading the snake so what made me think I could do it with a chipmunk? I touched the shovel and wanted to just do it that way, it would be quick and I wouldn't even see it, but I knew that wouldn't work either; it was too big and wide. I'd have to use the hammer end of the hatchet. I cried and kept saying I was sorry and holding the hammerhead over the chipmunk, then pulling back. The flies kept returning and I kept shooing them away. Mosquitoes hovered around. I can't even remember now how or why or when I finally brought the hatchet down, but I did. I hate remembering this. Its body twisted and all I could think was I'd just made it worse and it was still alive and then all I could think of was just killing it, killing it, getting it over with, and I hit it again and again and I was yelling and sobbing that I was sorry; I briefly thought that a neighbor might hear me and come running to see what was wrong. Thankfully, a leaf of the bush was hiding the chipmunk's head from my sight though I'd caught a glimpse of it after I'd first struck it...I won't describe it. I felt so awful. I couldn't stop thinking that I hadn't killed it with the first blow like I'd hoped I would. The chipmunk was no longer breathing but it was still moving. That was so horrible. I've known of reflexes but I didn't know they lasted so LONG. I think I hit it again, I'm not sure, but I was pleading with it to stop moving, stop moving. If it stopped moving that meant it was dead and out of its suffering. It finally stopped moving, but then its hind foot was twitching just slightly, then it curled up and that was it. It seemed so much smaller and thinner now, I don't understand how that happened. I still couldn't see its head but I could picture it from what I'd already seen. I squatted there and cried.

After a while I pulled the hatchet toward me and stood, telling the chipmunk I was sorry, turning and going back up the driveway. Dad would have to wash his hatchet because I didn't have the heart, but when I looked at it, I saw that it was relatively clean; there was no blood on it whatsoever. Just a bit of a crushed leaf, maybe from the bush. I didn't understand it. I set it on the porch basement step, went inside, washed my rubber shoes in the tub although they weren't dirty, washed my feet although they weren't dirty either, then went and sat on the couch and wiped the tears from my eyes for a while. The whole thing had taken about a half hour.

I was going to have Dad bury it but I couldn't let it lie out there all day, gathering flies, when I'd tried so hard to keep the flies off it before. I couldn't just kill it and let it lie in the open. So after a while I went back out, dug a small hole with the shovel, and deposited a small handful of sunflower seeds; the chipmunks love the seeds, I'm always getting mad at them and yelling at them and scaring them off when they scoop them all up from the porch and feeder and carry them off to their holes. I shooed away the flies and nudged the chipmunk into the shovel and at last got another good look at it...its head was crushed but didn't look as bad as it had after I'd just hit it. It just looked like a dead animal. I didn't understand that. There was no blood...a bit of a mess, but no blood. I don't understand that either. I carefully placed it atop the sunflower seeds, apologizing again, and buried it. Then I went and fetched another slab of rock that Dad had placed atop a cat that had been struck and killed near our home the previous year, in order to prevent the skunks and raccoons from digging it up and eating the remains. There was a colony of red ants carrying their larvae on the bottom of it and I had to shake and brush them off the best I could, then I lugged it over to where I'd buried the chipmunk and placed it there, hoping to prevent the skunks and raccoons from trying the same here. I then replaced the shovel, tossed the stick into the snow-on-the-mountain, brought the hatchet inside and washed it off and put it back in the basement, and that was all.

I had some kind of notion that this would become easier if I could only do it once, that if I managed to do it one time, then I'd be able to do it again if I needed to and it wouldn't be nearly as hard. I no longer believe that. I'm pretty sure it was just nerves that made its body twist and I probably killed it with the first blow, but I can't get the doubt out of my mind. The thought that I do everything else wrong, why not this? I also wonder, what if it wasn't really dying and I killed it for nothing? What if it could've recovered? What if it wants to know why I killed it? What if what I did was illegal, cruel even? I don't want to be cruel. I sound like such an awful person but I don't mean to be, I just couldn't bear letting it lie out there suffering the way the raccoon suffered, the way the skunk suffered, the way Smokey and Katchoo and Pepper suffered. The only reason I'm not crying now as I type this up is because Ma is awake and I don't want to cry in front of her right now. I'm pretty sure it was dying. I'm pretty sure I killed it quickly. But "pretty sure" isn't the same as "positive" and it's the uncertainty that's agonizing me. I hate hurting anything. I can barely even think of killing anything, especially something that big, with fur and eyes and ears and warm blood. That was just a chipmunk. Imagine doing the same to a possum, a skunk, a raccoon, a cat or a dog. I can't. I thought this would make me stronger--I even had thoughts, when I first resolved that I should kill it, that maybe this was a test--the chipmunk hadn't been there mere moments before but now it was, I'd just been thinking about how I should be able to do this on my own, well, here it was, the opportunity to show that I could, just like a sign--but I don't feel any stronger at all. I doubt it was a test, since you have to be important to be tested; it was just a sick chipmunk that happened onto our porch because this is where the food is. It would be so much easier to accept if it had been sent here, or if it somehow knew this was where its suffering could end, that somebody wouldn't let it continue. But that implies importance on my part or intelligence on the chipmunk's part and that's ludicrous.

I also hate the thought that I come across as cruel, killing an animal in such a way; I would protest that this is not it in the least, but the people who think this, I'd never be able to convince them otherwise if they don't already believe me. I hope I did the right thing and it was at least quick for the poor thing. That it can forgive me somehow. I hope any suffering I put it through was acceptable compared to what it would have gone through otherwise. I can't quite convince myself though. The only thing I can do is try not to think about it much.

I have to go now, tar.

 

That person who got so pissy with me over TAC returned to send a reply to my reply to their last "review." The size of the e-mail I last sent them, which included both the review and my reply, is 1.68kb according to WDC. The length of this person's reply to my reply is 16.62kb. Needless to say I'm not going to bother reading it, since, judging by how very long it is compared to what I had to say to them (it's longer than ALL my replies and their reviews, combined), it's probably just a huge e-mail full of bitching and personal attacks telling me how I don't know how to write my own stories and I really, really do not have it left in me to keep putting up with such crap. I'm just surprised that, based on how much they seemed to loathe my story, they saw fit to bother returning and replying at all. Big waste of their time if you ask me. Meanwhile I'm the one usually accused of wallowing in negativity. Weird.

I've put them on my block list. Such a lovely feature. So they can now find a lot of free time to find better things to read. God knows I don't want them wasting their time on me.

 

Well, may as well write an entry while I'm uploading photos to Flickr (ZOMG, it's actually working, at the moment at least). My appointment actually didn't end up cancelled for a change, though for some reason it took forever for them to pick up the phone when I called to make sure it was still on. I was reluctant to talk to Psychologist at first because I always have all these conflicting feelings--on the one hand, I know such things happen and are inevitable and it's NOT anything personal, but on the other hand, I expect therapists to realize that such things can be CONSTRUED that way and to take steps to avoid it--how professional is it to cancel on one particular patient three times in a row?--but on the first hand, like they're able to keep track of every single patient in such a way when they're obviously so busy?--but on a third hand (what am I, an octopus?), it just means there are so many other people with problems so much bigger than mine, it brings back an entire lifetime's experience of being shoved into the back corner by a bunch of people who are louder and more aggressive and outspoken than I am, of course I'll be the one who ends up overlooked. I'm just not that person--I'm not loud and aggressive and outspoken, I can't yell and wave my arms and be the squeaky wheel, no matter how badly I want the grease. I can't even post plugs to my writing without feeling like a total jackass. It's not in my nature to be the loud aggressive outspoken person because in my view that's rude--one shouldn't HAVE to be so rude just to get someone's attention, no matter how badly they might need it. I fully believe that most of the time, people should be able to notice when somebody needs attention, so that person doesn't HAVE to demand it, but it's not a perfect world and of course not everyone is so astute. Plus how exactly can these people notice those who need attention most when everyone else is yelling and waving their arms rudely?

As a result, when I need attention I don't demand it but instead sit and seethe inside that the person I need it from hasn't even noticed, either because they're not that astute or caring or because a bunch of other, ruder people are demanding their attention. I just keep it to myself and grow resentful. Not healthy, no, but again, I'm not the type of person to yell and wave my arms. I've spent a lifetime tentatively reaching out to other people first and getting slapped away or totally ignored; so it's not left in me to keep doing that. I want people to come to me instead. I guess I'd rather sit to myself and seethe and grow resentful than bother anybody else.

Anyway, I at last managed to outline the appointment situation to Psychologist (she expressed having felt shocked and worried when she thought I missed the appointment on the 29th, since I never miss appointments, had I been in a car wreck??), who admitted it was pretty messy and after finding out that only Thursdays are free offered to make up a tentative schedule for the next several appointments. I said how I know it's unavoidable, to which she agreed, but she said that they also have to take the patients' needs into consideration. They seem to have some scheduling issues on Thursdays but she came up with four more appointments into August. Originally, we were to meet like every two weeks, but I told her I don't mind if it's even just once a month, whatever she has to offer since they're obviously so busy--I always just feel like I'm asking for too much and should be grateful to get any attention at all. She interjected here to say that she would try to schedule us for every two weeks so that if one ends up cancelled, there'll still be another appointment not long after so hopefully I won't end up going such a long period without seeing her. I could always cancel an appointment I don't wish to go to. She asked if that helped alleviate how upset I was feeling, which it does somewhat, since as I told her, I'm the sort who needs schedules and to know what to expect ahead of time--I'm not a "moment-to-moment"-type person like my parents so obviously are.

Starting a new paragraph simply because this would run way long. I really don't see how people can function without planning ahead or preparing for contingencies at least a little bit. For example, my mother is the sort who goes to bingo almost every Sunday, yet should I ask her, are you going to bingo tonight?, she'll say, "Oh, I don't know"--because, as she puts it, "Something might come up! Who knows?" Even though there's like a 99% chance that NOTHING will come up and she'll go, she goes by the 1% uncertainty that she might not, and so refuses to commit to an answer. This wouldn't be nearly so frustrating...if she would tell me such things ahead of time. Often when I assume the course of action she'll take, based on the overwhelming evidence and reasoning that she'll do something a certain way, she'll go and do something completely different/completely against (my) reason. I got into a huge crying fit just recently when she did this. Ugh. I literally have to ask my parents when they're going to do/not do something just so I can have at least SOME idea what's going on in this family, and of course they see that as naggy since they don't know what they'll be doing! I know I can't make my parents conform to schedules if they don't want to but they could at least understand my own need to know what's going to happen, and not get so pissed off when uncertainty upsets me. I don't think it's so weird or stupid to want to know things in advance. I think it's VERY weird and stupid not to prepare for things and plan what you can! No, not as in plotting out every tiny detail of the day--I don't even do that with my stories--but in at least getting the general gist of things down--just like what I do with my stories. Giving a general estimate doesn't mean you have to be 100% bound by it; it's certainly better than "I don't know"! If there's a 99% chance you're going to do something, then just say, "Yes, I'm going to do this unless something comes up." Not that hard. I do the same things just about every day, so if somebody asks me what I'll be doing tomorrow, I'll tell them what I have planned, even though the world might end or North Korea might blow us up or a tree might fall on the house and kill me--of course you can't know EVERYTHING that will happen but you can at least make a decent guess based on relevant factors. That's just the kind of person I am, always have been, but according to my family you'd think that's very dysfunctional. They don't even have any plans for what will become of me when they can't care for me anymore; I don't bring this up because should I do so, I'm quickly reminded how stupid I'm being. *shrug*

So I guess we'll see how that goes. If North Korea doesn't blow us up first.

Finally finished the book on DID treatment, instead of reading another of my books on the subject I'm reading a related one, Blasphemous Rumours (it's British), about ritual abuse. Vaguely sensationalistic stuff even though the writer claims to be unbiased either way; he uses lots of scary adjectives and such. I'm of the mind that RA could happen, and probably does happen, but not on the huge "ZOMG worldwide Satanic conspiracy thousands of people murdered every year the cops and media are in on it and everything!!" scale that some people believe in. As such I try to steer clear both of books that are entirely credulous or unfounded (they're rather easy to spot, Michelle Remembers, anyone?), and of books that dismiss it outright (the whole "False memories implanted by Christian fundamentalists on a witchhunt!" angle). I lean a bit more toward the former but they're usually just as stupid and misled as the latter; it's those people that make the entire issue look hokey. I get steamed, though, when I see people claim there's no basis behind any of it whatsoever; Det. Benson recently said that on SVU, "The Satanic ritual abuse craze was debunked as a myth years ago!" and it pissed me off. Whatever.

I have an SRA book by Colin Ross, the guy who wrote the definitive text on MPD/DID, and I like the point of view he takes in it. (His views might have changed since then, though I hope not.) His basic view is that it doesn't really matter if you thoroughly believe the patient's claims or not, or whether it actually even happened the way they claim or not; validity of the experience isn't the issue at all. The important thing is to give the patient your support (by that I don't mean unconditional belief in what happened to them, but just support and validation that they believe something happened to them), and to try to find the best way to alleviate their suffering. This doesn't mean proving or disproving what they claim happened. It just means listening to them, offering them support, and finding a way to work through the perceived experience. The DID book I just finished had a great chapter on this; a ritual abuse experience a woman described was shown to be false, but instead of just telling her this and criticizing or disbelieving her, the therapists helped explore WHY she believed it had happened, to work through her difficulty telling fantasy from reality and to help ease her terror. The incident didn't happen but her suffering was still real.

Just because a schizophrenic person hears a voice in their head which isn't really there doesn't mean their suffering isn't real. Same with RA survivors. Maybe something happened to them, maybe something didn't. Maybe it's exactly as they described, maybe it's just a screen memory covering up something more mundane. That's not the issue. The issue is to take such people seriously in believing that THEY perceive something happened, and in finding ways to alleviate their symptoms. So many people get caught up in proving/disproving everything that they forget the real issue--the people who feel traumatized. (E. g., debunking an experience because part or all of it is known to be untrue, what of the victim who might still be suffering? You just call them a liar and shove them away? What if it's a schizophrenic person claiming they're the king of England, or an obsessive-compulsive person trying to wash nonexistent germs from their hands, do you just call them a liar and shove them away too? Never mind trying to prove that they ARE the king of England or that those germs ARE real...I know from experience that telling a person with OCD that the germs are or are not real doesn't help one bit, the suffering is still there.) So when most of the people who claim such things are in fact making unfounded claims, proving/disproving this, and applying that to EVERY case the same way, messes it all up for the few people who are probably telling the truth. Everybody gets painted with the same nutjob brush. Take a look, it's the huge annoying SQUEAKY WHEELS (the entirely credulous RA believers/victims with false claims) getting all the grease (attention and notice) while the people who really DO need the attention (people who really are RA survivors) are ignored (called nutjobs the same as the squeaky wheels), same as earlier. Hm. Interesting how I tied this entry together.

Anyway. Time to get off my high horse. I probably sound like a moron and I'm getting tired of this entry so that's all.

Tar...

 

What the hell?? Today at Wal-Mart, TWO different people thought that I worked there. Firstly, when I was in the clothing section with my mother, I glanced at a young black kid walking by; he stopped and asked if I worked there. "Oh, no," I said. Then later, near the pet section, two women approached me, showed me a GPS system, and one asked, "I'm thinking of getting this as a gift for a friend, but if they don't like it, can we return it for a refund?" "I'm sorry, I don't work here!" I exclaimed, at which she touched my shoulder and apologized, saying, "You looked so professional!"

??? Dad cackled when I told him that part of the story...

The only thing I can think is it must have been my dark teal shirt. It's not the Wal-Mart color--that's dark blue--but what else was there?? Ma claimed it was my necklaces--the turtle and mandala I always wear--but that's just it, I ALWAYS wear those and they've never had people thinking I'm a Wal-Mart employee before. Plus, what about a little turtle or a mandala screams, "I WORK AT WAL-MART!"? It's not like I have a nametag or vest or anything.

I'm never wearing that damn shirt to Wal-Mart ever again. Jeez.

 

RANTY ENTRY. Big surprise.

I belonged to a website called the Experience Project for a brief time before giving it up because, like every single other social networking site, despite their protestations to the contrary, it's all about adding as many people to your friends list as you possibly can without putting in any effort whatsoever to get to actually BEFRIEND them.

My proof? I just said I left the site, and that was months and months ago, I can't even remember when. Probably well over a year ago. I made a point of posting in my blog there to say I would not be back and would thus be unable to reply to e-mails sent through the site; there are links to my other sites, thus ways to contact me offsite, available, but nobody has ever once used them. Yet every so often I STILL get friend requests and private message notices. The gimmick of the site--joining "interest groups" of every sort and thus connecting to people who've had the same experiences--is pretty cool and innovative but it simply doesn't work. The most popular people on the site are those who have upwards of a hundred friends or more--SIX HUNDRED, even--and who post the most little stories--some merely consisting of just a sentence or two of the vaguest sort--and who join the most groups. It's not about interacting and getting to know likeminded people at all. It's about adding the most people to your friends list and hoping they'll add you back. I would put a lot of thought into my stories and nobody would ever even read them because I wasn't popular--i. e., I didn't have a hundred people I don't even know on my friends list (though I was added to a few of their lists when we'd never interacted in the least!). What's the point putting effort into something if nobody will pay any attention to it? I decided not to waste any more time there and left.

And the stupid notices of friend requests and private messages keep coming through. Meaning, these people who are trying to friend me HAVEN'T EVEN LOOKED AT MY PROFILE PAGE OR ANY OF MY CONTRIBUTIONS TO THE SITE else they'd quickly see I LEFT THE SITE AGES AGO! The site came up with a new "friend finder" function after I left where apparently you can find likeminded people based on interests, and I guess people just rely on that rather than actually trying to get to know people. This is the biggest irony of social networking sites, that they're all about just friending people without getting to know them--where's the "social networking" in that?? Pathetic.

Today I got an e-mail notice that somebody had actually commented on one of my stories there. Weird, you mean people actually read stuff there? News to me! I went to see what it was without logging in--the first time I've even looked at the site since I left. And do you know what the person who bothered to comment on my story had to say?

"This is the longest story I have ever read in my life."

Wow. Congratulations, moron. Sad that you've apparently never read any books in your life, then! But I'm glad you wasted your time reading and commenting on it, seeing as I'm no longer on the site! So in the end, the joke's on you.

Honestly, what is people's goal in doing stuff like that? Just f**k off and die instead of wasting everyone's time saying, "Wow, that was long." Seriously. If you're not a simple troll when you say stuff like that then you must just be the world's biggest dumbass.

"Holy shit, I walked outside this morning and the sky was blue! And there was AIR and everything!"

Really. If you said that you would NOT look any stupider.

I do not understand people anymore, if I ever did. Just as with the stupid writing forum, I'm glad I didn't waste any more time on that site, judging by the mental capacity of the people who do hang out there. No wonder they just brainlessly friend each other and don't comment on the stories or get to know each other! That would involve using the brains they don't have. Heaven forbid people exert their intelligence; social networking sites are in place so you don't have to. Why take the time and effort to try to make a friend, when you can just have a website suggest friends for you, and add them to a meaningless list, and cheer for joy when they add you back? No muss or effort involved at all. Joy! When scientific studies say that social networking sites actually reduce the amount of time people spend socializing, I fully believe it because I've seen it firsthand. Ironic, again, that I am the socially inept one when these people seem much worse at socializing than I am! At least I try to get to know people. And don't just add a bunch of strangers to some stupid list.

There were a couple of apparently friendly people I briefly met on that site, but that's just it, it was brief--they didn't stick around long. I bet they too realized they had better ways to socialize than hang out in such an asocial place.

Along the same lines, some dumbass at LJ keeps friending a couple of lesser "Tehuti" journals of mine, over and over and over again, journals I never updated as far as I know--they're linked to my main journal, Skew, but this person never friends that (also abandoned) account, just these other ones I never update. They must friend them, then unfriend them and friend them again, because I keep getting the same notices on the same journals every few days. WHAT IS YOUR PROBLEM, YOU DUMBASS?? Take the f**king hint that I don't POST to those stupid journals and either friend me once and be done with it or STOP FRIENDING ME!

I don't want to go to the trouble to log into those accounts and tell them this because their own journal is friends only. GOD I am sick of most people. I really do not get it. At least I realize how inept I am, how come these people can't see how stupid they are? To quote Lt. Barrington, "This place makes no sense."

To end this on a vaguely lighter note, today Kitty came into the room and deposited a small piece of lint on the floor as if he were presenting a dead mouse. I swear he must just sit around thinking up weird new things to do each day.

Tar for now, sorry this is so pissy. Maybe if this dumb Internet connection would get back to normal I'd be in a better mood, but maybe not. *shrug*