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Where Reality Will Byte, if You Aren't Careful What You Read... My Year's Quest. |
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NEW BLOG: "Mind Minutiae"  Click here to SCROLL down to the journal entries.  The Reason for the Season I Seems like I have to know everyone else's job for them just so I can get my business conducted. Bills, utilities and internet providers and cellular companies and GAWD knows medical institutions, offices, and billing departments. Pre-authorizations, exceptions, policies and terms and conditions. Websites, APPS, Apples and Windows. Modems, Network Extenders, cellular upgrades, iPad upgrades, trade-in value redemptions from hell. What is WRONG with peeps today? Why can't they simply DO their jobs? Why do I have to spend an hour in an online chat just to be told to call them instead? Why is it they are doing the opposite of what they say they will? What ever happened to friendliness AND competence, as a two-pronged necessity of employment, anyway? And when a mistake is made, especially an egregious error like dangerous medication being filled at the wrong milligram amount, is it so awkward they cannot issue an apology, just as a token of respect and shame? Not a lot, mind you, but it is professional. Why are they no longer so professional, businesses and institutions? Well. I'm here to tell you that 'nice' doesn't get you all the way through an encounter with an idiot. Or, more often, with an employee more worried about covering their ass than your well being. This is also not a one-off because I have been noting this trend of gross negligence and incompetence all year long. In fact, since I had my complete pulmonary embolism (blood clots in the lung's artery, at least for me the right) in April, 2018, I have been taking copious notes. That's right. I see you. You imbecile. You clock-puncher, only worried about your paycheck and not caring much about a job well done. Where is your integrity? Your inner fire? Do you save it for your band, your friends, or your schoolwork? It isn't exclusive you know—you can spread it around some. Add a little genuineness to that, "Have a good day, ma'am." I always had a good time while working in customer service, and I was competent, as well. Well, I certainly thought so, right. I'm not expecting you to do anything I cannot do myself except for the fact that you umm kinda get paid to do it! So, since April of 2018, I decided to go forth in search of a better quality of life. Whata does that MEAN? It means I was miserable, really, and not for trying to cheer up either. My medical woes have taken over my life and there isn't too much I can do about it. Or is there? Yeah, so I set out on seeing all the doctors I've been meaning to over the years. Updating some scans and tests, as many as I could. I hate seeing new doctors and the specialists are kinda the worst; having to explain in a 'nutshell' forty-seven-years of medical history is not my idea of fun. In fact, I get depressed thinking about it, let alone speaking about it all. It's complicated. Therefore, I'm complicated, right? Or, perhaps I'm just an interesting 'case' the doctors should look at like the puzzle I truly am. Where's the curiosity gone?  T Doctors and more mainstream staff just treat symptoms; they have to really want to figure out a mystery medically speaking, in order to do me any good. I am not normal, never have been, absolutely never will be. Medically, I do wish I were normal, it'd be so much easier... but no. Now I am not going to let you get away with your shit! I am going to call you on it. If you are deemed incompetent, I will do my best to fire you and find another competent person to replace you on my medical team. And I will not apologize for it. I won't be meek, I won't hold my tongue unless I want to, I will speak plainly and bluntly. If you can't handle this patient, that's okay, but all I am asking is for you to do your job. Competently. Yes, even for me, who is "so complicated." It's like marriage vows, you don't agree to be there for your spouse only when the weather's nice out, right? Right. You have to take the good with the bad. And this all applies to my former 'good weather' friends because you know whata? Sometimes life sucks. Sometimes it really, really sucks. It can also be terrific. And this goes for everyone out there, not just me or someone who has medical issues. Nope. This is where I will mostly talk about the sucky stuff, because I need an outlet for it. I need to complain without reproach. I need to write words I might actually never say, but lately I don't know, I just MIGHT. Perhaps, I already have   Adrie's 2nd Blog (The first one is LINKED BELOW (click on the pic) and also where you might go if you want to get to know me—I don't leave much unsaid, I suppose. Mostly.)  I Reside With:  Faith is to believe what you do not see; the reward of this faith is to see what you believe. ~Saint Augustine Obligatory Mood TRIBUTE Video: Dedication: This live performance from STAIND is stellar, but then he is always so wonderful live. I've gone through the gamut of music this past week, everything from Disturbed to everything TOOL's ever recorded and quite a few of their live performances as well; from Everclear to Coal Chamber; to Incubus through to System of a Down. Yup. I settled on this song because when I think of my old friend Gus, I think of why and how he ever became referred to as 'Crazy Gus' (and rightfully so). Dude was a hard, hard rocker; we're talking about a guy that went to so many concerts, I doubt he could list them all if he had tried. The fact that he dragged me around to System of a Down, Lollapalooza 1997 to see The Prodigy and TOOL, Everclear at the Hard Rock LA, and geez... so many more venues around Hollywood and bands than I ever remembered before... before his death. He died rather suddenly September 19.   Kicking Ass, Taking Names, One Fool at a Time! |
For those who own Converse sneakers, especially the Chucks, can you answer me this? Can you look at them and tell me which one of the symbols below is correct? I think it's the navy star, but not sure. It's a detail I need to add to my converse graphics  (I love hi-tops but my feet are not flat but high-arched and will hurt bad in them, so none for me. In the 80s though... yeah I didn't care.) Thanks!   OR  Fivesixer   I know you have these...  |
| "Blog City ~ Every Blogger's Paradise" Stolen Prompt from "30-Day Blogging Challenge ON HIATUS" Prompt: It's said that beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Describe something that you think is beautiful or attractive that someone else might consider unattractive or ugly. Absolutely, I totally agree with the quote. I'd have to say my taste in men and my cats. They have a lot in common sometimes  I've never liked Ken-Barbie-doll-type-of-pretty men. Never. I'm suspicious of them, perhaps. I am mostly oblivious to how a dude looks. I am only attracted to their personality, which I suppose I should clarify a little bit.I like a great comedian, a man who knows how to turn any appropriate situation into a joke. I like to see and hear them laugh with everything they've got; unbridled joy, you could say. Any guy that can make me do the same is tops in my dating rule book Men shouldn't be afraid to be sympathetic to what you're going through, and should figure out that listening is the ultimate form of support. Yeah. Which begs the question a bit on intelligence—I'm not talking about book-learning per se, but simple common sense is quite a commodity! I would say I wouldn't want a high IQ dude (not anymore, at least) as they tend to have lower EQ (emotional quality or is it quota hmmmm). Low EQ is directly correlated to divorce. Okay, maybe not, but it is related. Be a man, shed a couple tears once in a while; help an older lady across the street, foster a kitten or donate to the local spay and neuter fund ffs. Which brings me to cats. Cats and men are quite similar in some ways. First, you have the fact that they're able to be generalized by their behaviors quite well; e.g., cats are independent and will go along with your 'suggestions' at times, and other times? Forgettaboutit. Men can be the same, though of course this is according to their myriad personalities. About 20% of cats won't do anything you ask them to, but they'll think of doing quite a few maneuvers you've never thought of! And this includes some hella stupid shit. That's cats for ya, unpredictable and conversely predictable at different times and hey, it's up to you to figure out their schedule (which doesn't exist, it's total crapshoot). Yeah maybe men are a bit different from cats, after all. Lol. I suppose this boils down to one thing among both species: Everything is according to individual personalities, influenced both by birth and experience, and you really can't adequately predict what they're going to do or how they're going to be with you until you try. There. I have now summed up the reason for breakups, makeups, and divorce! You simply don't know until you try. And with cats? You have to be very observant and careful not to 'jump the gun' on qualifying their behaviors into actual personality 'traits' until you know them really, really well. In my experience, the most recalcitrant personalities will manifest by the age of four. That's a long time to gain control of your cat, but I have several who avoided me or batted at me or downright tried to bite me until that age. Patience, especially with ferals, is essential. Perhaps I should just stay married to all my cats—I think I have a much better chance with them!  PS: This is a pogo-post. It goes UP, then it goes down. Ah well! |
Technically salient, your speech bleeds sarcasm— blocking your light precluding possible pathos. For: "Invalid Item" |
When I need a mood-lifting song, I listen to this... |
| "Blog City ~ Every Blogger's Paradise" Day 2091 September 14, 2019 Prompt: Tell us about your writing process – do you like music or quiet, is there a special place you go. Ah well, it differs depending on what I'm writing. Anything that isn't poetry is tailored for the audience somewhat according to the prompt or assignment (perhaps a contest?). It will often be a more formal way of writing for me, something I absolutely do not normally do in here, my blog. Nah, in here I speak as if you the reader were right before me, listening. Only I write so much better than I speak because I can't organize my thoughts as quickly in person. My poetry writing process is the one that is much more rigid. Let's take my brand new 'Adrie's Epic' poem as I dubbed my long-winded poems; most are over 80 lines. So I had this truly disturbing dream about a month or so ago, and when I woke up it just stayed with me all day long. It kinda was upsetting because I keep dreaming about someone I've no wish to! Constantly. They make cameos, sometimes they're the star of my dreams. And it isn't just a re-hashing of the past, either, these end up being more lucid-type dreams where I'm aware I'm dreaming but helpless to call a break on production  I hate not having control. I think.Anyways, I figured what worked for me in the past was to write about my dreams, or at least about the subject matter. I didn't want to, but I did, so I sat down and pretty much freestyled a 222 line poem  Talk about needing editing! I normally edit as I go, then edit a few more times, as writing free-verse poetry can be tricky and I try to let the poems speak for themselves. That is, each poem I write wants a certain presentation: skipped lines, off-center words here and there, maybe a cute trick or two (but seldom) to accentuate a point. Many of my free verse poems have a structure within: abab, with a less-strict rhyme scheme and no poetical rhythm whatsoever. Many use near-rhymes. I search dictionaries to make sure the word I use for an important line is le mot juste or the right word. I don't have any signature 'style' per se, other than writing a lot of lines (some very short, some long). It really is a matter of diction and emphasis for me: when speaking the lines, where do I naturally pause for breath or for impact? Then I will start a new line on that point. I confess I'm pretty much not going to write one of my epic, angsty non-fiction poems if I have a lot of interruptions. Losing focus isn't good. I still like to write poetry at night, even though I've flipped my schedule and am now a nearly-certified morning person. Tee hee. Sometimes I listen to music, other times it's just quiet. I go with the flow of my moods and what feels comfortable at the time. Toady, man, Toady rules... |
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