Where Reality Will Byte, if You Aren't Careful What You Read... My Year's Quest.
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The Reason for the Season
named my new blog Kicking Ass, Taking Names! because I'm burned out on fighting for myself this year. Stick a fork in me, I'm done. I'm exhuasted and a bit disillusioned. Nevertheless, I am proud of myself. Instead of sticking my head in the sand, I took care of my business this year in every way but one (that way will make itself known throughout, but let's not go there right now).
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?
his is why I say I have been kicking ass, and taking names! I am SICK of letting peeps get away with their insults, backhanded compliments, pithy explanations that say exactly nothing to me. Yes, I am a self-diagnostician, and thankful I am that I can still hit the mark with myself often. I'd be literally six-feet under the ground if I weren't so medically-smart, or so strong. Know your strengths, peeps, and use it to your advantage. I can't do basic math well, but I sure can take care of medical business.
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.
|"Blog City ~ Every Blogger's Paradise" Day 2118 October 11, 2019
Prompt: What are your five best organizational tips?
Hmmmm. Okay! The first tip goes for those around here, and how I think you *should* be organizing your Portfolio I guess it hearkens back to the old days of being a library assistant, and organizing my own collection throughout my adulthood, and before the advent of the Kindle e-reader:
I swear, I think people can't do this so well anymore. The books at my used bookstore? Almost alphabetized correctly. Everything these days seems to be out-of-place. Around here, nobody seems to alphabetize the Portfolio and its folders: PLEASE people, for my sanity, why would you expect your readers to root around in such muck? Alphabetize!
(2). Everything has a place. If it doesn't have a place, you need to find it a home that makes sense so you can put it back there. I do not currently ascribe to this as I've been moving in for a couple years and nothing much has a place. I need to purchase more places, completely lacking *sigh*
(3). Computer Files: These also need a home, and it is one thing that I work on a lot. If I can't find it, what use is it to me? So I make a LOT of folders. I also quit the Cloud-cloud and now use Dropbox. 2TBs space for $10 a month. Best of all, it's great for all my images! It does take time and wi-fi power to get it up there but once there, it is quite secure and easily accessible from all my Apples (iPhone and iPad) which is huge to me, and quite unlike the Cloud
(4). Don't brush your teeth in the sink. Brush em in the shower. Less mess. Always makes a sink mess!
(5). Cat condos, toys, literal cardboard boxes, and all other cat-related things do not count with these rules It's their house, I just live there...
|"Blog City ~ Every Blogger's Paradise" Day 2116 October 9, 2019
Prompt: Surprises. Write about some good and some bad surprises you have had.
Oddly enough, I don't think I've had a good surprise. Not really. Good gifts, yes, like the time my sister bought us tickets to go to the Les Miserables production in Los Angeles! It was fantastic. Best ever. Great memory. But surprises in general eh tend to be more negative in my experience... and I definitely don't want to go THERE tonight
|"Blog City ~ Every Blogger's Paradise" Day 2116 October 9, 2019
Prompt: "I always cling to things that remind me of being a kid again." Melanie Martinez. How do you feel about this quote?
Well I don't really identify but in one little way with nostalgia about being a kid again, probably because I don't consider my childhood to have been all that swell, like many peeps. Yeah, I was a huge candy connoisseur as a kid, used to actually steal change from my mom's purse because she didn't like us to have many sweets. It was never about buying the same candy bar or pack of taffy to me, no, I had to sample everything in the store!
We have this area at our local (way over-priced) grocery store that is ALL nostalgia candy. Did they see me coming, or whata Actually, I haven't bought any, I just look and salivate. It's completely nostalgia based, none of it is really any different than the candy of today, but the packaging and the names evoke my memories of gorging on sweet, delicious candy. I mean they have shredded bubble gum that is supposed to be like tobacco 'chew'; gold coins; even Pop Rocks! Man, nothing beats that slightly dangerous feeling of those rocks popping in your mouth as you imagine choking on them (as some people actually did!)
It wasn't about McDonald's Happy Meal toys in my era, it was all about the candy...
|"Blog City ~ Every Blogger's Paradise" Day 2115: October 8, 2019
Prompt: Can you come up with a poem out of a list of your own rules? The rules can be about anything you wish. If you don’t wish to write a poem it could be a story or a prose piece.
Rules of my house
Include no louse,
I can't stand a bug
(Even under the rug).
I don't like sweating
When they zoom around with the 'crazies';
But my six cats prefer petting
Over catching critters—how lazy!
New cats are great at catching bugs and stuff, the older ones are far too full to bother. Darn it I want another kitten but no way, no how, I got two orange boys that are Thing 1 & Thing 2 from Dr. Seuss
|"Blog City ~ Every Blogger's Paradise" Day 2107 September 30, 2019
Prompt: Do you think, in some restaurants, choosing what to eat from an intricate menu can resemble an odyssey? If you had such an experience, how did you handle it?
Well, in theory, yes eating out and ordering from an intricate menu can seem like an odyssey of sorts. However, it's super simple to avoid hoity-toity menus with too many choices and unrecognizable fare: don't go to hoity-toity restaurants I don't. Without work and having to hob-nob, I can go where I want and I do not want to eat at an establishment where the napkins are folded into swans. No thanks
|"Blog City ~ Every Blogger's Paradise" Day 2104 September 27, 2019
Prompt: Tell us about your writing process – do you like music or quiet, is there a special place you go to work, do you type from the beginning or write notes with a pen and paper first?
My writing process is like the rest of me pretty much, so I fly by the seat of my emotions. If I am in a serious mood then I might have no noise, no music in the background. If what I am writing flows easily I'll definitely listen to music, whatever I feel like or what fits the material. I mostly only match the writing's mood with music when writing poetry, as that's my angsty, gotta-think-about-it endeavor. There are days like yesterday where I spent so long wrapped up in utube and my music that I couldn't focus on any writing so just went over to some coding...
I have been writing on my mom's PC. I need a new keyboard for my new iPad Pro, so it's not setup like the laptop it was before and is harder to type on. Plus, my cats aren't especially great at letting mama 'work'. They were all sleeping a few weeks back, and I awoke from a particularly vivid lucid dream and wrote a freestyle-type poem. It ended up being 222 lines I don't normally write in freewriting style, as in stream of consciousness off-the-top-of-me-hed writing; I usually correct mistakes and grammar and punctuation as I go, preferring that to too much editing afterwards. After the poem is written, I like to work on the presentation and not be distracted by the syntax and stuff.
Everything is allowed to change with my whims; I am not at all a regimented, disciplined person, nor writer. I feel strongly that for me my writing should be rather organic, go-with-the-flow type of thing. I don't want to read the same in every poem, nor in other items, although we all have our own styles that can be isolated by any we might call a fan. No, I want it to just—BE.
"Blog City ~ Every Blogger's Paradise" Day 2102 September 25, 2019
Prompt: "Life is too short to not have oysters and champagne." Chris Binkley What are your thoughts about this quote?
Yeah, I'm not too impressed with the quote or the meaning of it. It goes two ways for me: (1) Life is too long, not too short; and (2) Let us not kid ourselves that we can excuse much excess by allowing ourselves to 'live it up' too much. It's not as dire as it sounds, I just think the whole quote is a bit of a cop-out on responsible living. And umm... realism
Obviously it's okay to indulge in things sparingly and moderately, given the type, but since we're talking about food you know, we might want to watch how often we allow ourselves 'treats' while making up these pithy excuses for ourselves to partake more of them. This sounds really harsh, but it's just what hits me first on this quote. Well, second, actually.
The whole 'life is too short' shit is just that—utter crap. Life takes forever! Remember when you were a kid and you could.not.wait to grow up? I do. Life has always gone fastest when it's been good, and ever-so-slow when it sucks. Then again, me and Mr. Time are not the greatest of friends; it's always flowed a bit differently from how it passes by for others, seemingly. When I was on pain medication it went by so incredibly fast; I couldn't figure out my appointment times, the dates flew by so fast I couldn't catch them. Now time seems slower than it has in a while, and truthfully it tends to depend on my pain level.
Pain level: Too high today. The referred doctor's office is obviously not worried about getting me into his tight schedule anytime soon, and I already tracked down my 'missing' referral that cost me nine whole days of waiting! Oh yeah, because they ate it. Or their fax did. Or you know, something...
And my pharmacist filled the wrong dosage of steroid pills and although I caught it, two weeks later I still managed to take too high of a dose thanks to this error. Never fear he was told quite forcefully what happens when you need steroids to live, AND you have a gross sensitivity to them. He felt bad but we are buddies now, right Jacob Yeah, right! Now I gotta come 'down' from the high I get from the dose increase, and it will be another week until I'm back on my regular maintenance dose. NOT HAPPY. I think it shows. Sorry. This is real life, this is how it goes sometimes... time for bed!
My bad moods never last for long, and Jacob is okay because the two pills look almost identical and everyone makes mistakes. I am positive he won't make this one again though... I've basically been bed-ridden last couple days and that's what happens when it's bad. Strict survival mode. My brain fog is so thick I need a ship's horn to warn peeps away—please, no math, no thinking! Lol. I've been working on my memorial tribute to my friend Gus, and it's proving to be quite challenging... I often resort to graphics when too foggy to trust myself to walk and talk at the same time.
And I usually stay away from people and blogging and talking too much while in a fogged state of mind or a bad mood. Tonight I didn't. Oh well. This Too Shall Pass, and likely soon!
But Life really isn't and has never been too short for me. Other than my cats live's and wanting them with me longer, I can't say anything's ever been sustained enough at a great level to want to freeze time. Nah, time can continue on as he will and I'll do the same. One day at a time.
|"Blog City ~ Every Blogger's Paradise" Day 2098 September 21, 2019
Prompt: Talk about one of your favorite industry (writing) -specific books you’ve ever read. Include some of your favorite passages or quotes.
I've finally come across a prompt I can't write about. I never read any books on the craft of writing, nor do I really want to. I find my creative genius seriously muted when I try to improve my writing skills through reading these types of books. Ha ha yeah I'm some genius!
I really do believe in a more 'organic' writing approach though and if I try to improve that through other means I really end up intimidated, pressured, and/or otherwise neurotic about writing. I don't want to stop writing altogether, so this is one way I deal with the occasional urge to quit. No one puts pressure on me like me, so this is a highly individual thing; I am not at all against bettering yourself through books as a writer, and am totally supportive of whatever one needs to do to keep writing!
Plus, we all need a break after my last entry, non? Oui. Oh oui!
|"Blog City ~ Every Blogger's Paradise" Day 2096 September 19, 2019
Prompt: What was your favorite game when you were a kid?
Ah, well... I played a lot of games! Mostly individual, acting-type of play. Geez, how do you say—I'd enact scenes real and mostly imagined from my favorite shows. We have Conan, the Barbarian (the original from the 1980s, of course); Charlie's Angels (a favorite); Wonder Woman; the Bionic Woman; you get the gist here. I didn't have much in the way of props, and I was mostly playing in the dirt outside, but I made it work. Running, jumping, lunging. Always after the 'bad guys' yeah, that was me!
The real game was playing with my Barbies. Oh I was into it all: the Barbie Corvette, the Barbie Dollhouse, the Barbie dolls (whichever I could get!) and the Barbie clothes. Christmas was for Barbies I didn't get all the actual Barbie brands because they were expensive, but I got enough and I was very inventive. I made bed furniture for the dollhouse out of overturned Kleenex tissue boxes, with a washcloth over them for the bedspread. I once made an entire dollhouse (couple stories!) out of straws with little connectors. Side tables were overturned pizza takeout plastic round-thing-a-ma-bobs you get in the middle of pizzas (what do those DO?).
The real fun Barbie/dollhouse things to make were the pools. Oh yeah. You get a container, you fill it with water, and everyone gets nekkid I wasn't into Ken so much, too perfect and hoity-toity I thought, but nevertheless my girls had their dates and their trial smushy-faced, fake plastic kisses. Mostly in the pool
The Barbie Corvette was real nice. Bright pink. It actually was a remote-controlled vehicle, but that broke so early on I hardly remember it. I do remember this Corvette well, and in the manual mode of no working power, I learned how to turn the tires the opposite way when I needed to backup. Yeah. My Barbie Corvette taught me a thing or two about driving that kinda came in handy when I was in high school Driver's Education
As far as board games, I'd play anything I could possibly bribe my sister to play with me. Connect Four, Checkers, Backgammon, Monopoly, Life, Sorry!, Chutes & Ladders. Oh yeah. As an adult I learned to play Chess and I think that's kinda fun online but not against a computer, you need a chess buddy. I haven't had a chess buddy since Tewodros my Ethiopian flirty friend. Now he was fun! A genius IQ he won a full ride scholarship from Addis Ababa to the University of Tokyo (I think that's the name) where he studied robotic engineering. His side hobby was building an automatic knitting machine. And meeting ladies in the chess room I have met some super interesting peeps!
Anyways, I find dolls very creepy now. I don't have any. I was just using my imagination in the best way possible at the time, in an individualistic play-endeavor, I guess. None of it carried on into my adulthood—it didn't make me romanticize getting married or having kids. Romance books mighta done that though
That's NOT a Chevy in there. They missed that detail. Ha! Ha ha ha!
|"Blog City ~ Every Blogger's Paradise" Day 2093 September 16, 2019
Prompt: Write about the worst house, apartment, or a hotel room you’ve lived in or stayed. Why did you think it was the worst place to be?
When I was about twenty-five, I got a job at the San Bernardino County Mental Health Services Department. Yup, county job, something I had been trying to get for a couple years. I had the title of Clerk II., if I recall correctly, but it was an experimental job shared between two departments: Records, and Patient Intake/Registration. That second department isn't right but I can't remember what it was called, basically where you check peeps in for their appointments, make return appointments, answer the phones, etc. Secretary stuff but you also have to work with the doctors and the LCSW (Licensed Clinical Social Workers) etc. So the position was to help out in Records as the main dude, Charles, had been doing it alone for years and was having some medical issues. The other department was always understaffed, of course.
So this position was at the old county building in the city of San Bernardino, proper, but I lived in Upland about 30 miles West. I needed a place cheaper and closer to my new job, and I picked up a roommate from my current transitional job (very bad job time in Southern California in the 90s) at Thrifty Car Rental at the Ontario Airport. Now that was a fun job! I had no issue getting jobs, keeping them was another thing entirely as I frequently got bored or wanted to move up the pay ladder. I began looking for an apartment, but it was a more run-down area and I needed to have a cat or two as well.
My boos, Leticia, heard about my search and offered to hook me up with her parents who owned a four-plex rental not even a mile away. I was a bit skeptical on the area. It's the same area I lived in my first ever apartment when I separated from the husband at age 18. But she kinda insisted and I kinda needed a place, so I met with her parents and looked it over. There wasn't much to see; it was such a basic apartment, located on the second floor with a garage carport underneath it. It had a living room, an open kitchen area, small, and a barely there space for a dining table I didn't have. There was one bathroom, one bedroom, all perfectly adequate.
The place looked clean enough, nothing to write home about as they say, but respectable. It wouldn't be the hub of parties or get-togethers anyway—as I don't socialize much—but it would do. The price was right, I had a paying roommate, and if my car died I could even walk to work. I took it.
The boss's parents were a bit quiet, but I figured it was more a language barrier than anything as they were Mexican and Spanish was their native language. Very common where I grew up and anywhere in Southern California. In fact, I grew up partially Mexican it was such a normal part of the culture and area. They kept repeating rules as if I was a party-er, but that's nothing new I mean I was young I just wasn't social, not something most peeps understood.
Upon moving in, my roommate Gus was worth his weight in gold as he turned out to be a great cleaner Yay! But the stove was so dirty underneath the burners, when you lift up the stove top? We were both pretty disgusted. I can tell you I didn't clean it. Gus and came to a quick decision lol he could clean and pay less rent Worked for both of us.
Within a couple months, however, it was obvious my position was a failed experiment. Neither department had enough of me and I was stretched too thin. I really liked working with the records, less public and more doctor interaction worked for my introvertedness. Mind you, I've always been able to 'blend' quite well but I get now why things were harder for me socially. It's not hard to socialize per se, but it is draining in the extreme. I didn't know all this then though.
What was really going on was this incredibly weird vibe between my boss Leticia, her parents the landlords, and my co-worker Charles in Records. Turns out Charles was in a union lawsuit/disagreement with the county about working overtime without pay, and likely quite a few other issues as well. My boss Leticia was strange to me. She was an intense type who talked a lot and would get excited at telling her stories of going out for drinks with our other co-worker, Gracie (how do I remember their names from so many years ago?). I wasn't interested in their nightlife, and they invited me out with them for drinks many, many times but I always said no. I wasn't interested in spending all day with people only to go out and socialize with them after work, something I wasn't comfortable doing period.
I became aware of a problem as Leticia started leveraging work issues with going out with them. It felt as if I was being strong-armed at the least into going out with them, and downright threatened at worst. She wasn't teaching me the job very well, either; oh I knew how to work with the patients and the doctors and I had no issues there, but the reports? She wanted me to run mathematical and statistical manager reports for her. Operative word here is 'manager' reports! This was her job. She also completely sucked at teaching; I literally would sit and look at the large dot-matrix printouts with horror. I had no clue what to do with them. It got to be a point of contention, and her boss just thought it was me. I wasn't stupid but I needed more help, I mean it WAS math, right? Right. I suck at math.
I went out a couple of times, gave in to peer and managerial pressure, and that was the kiss of death. We had an okay time at the local Mexican restaurant, I had one drink and a good meal. But I also could not afford to go out! I made such a paltry amount over the minimum wage I mean the perks in the job were the benefits, great benefits. My refusing to go out more just created this resentment and it began to bleed over to her parents! They started harassing me about WEIRD and ODD things. The laundry, the cat, the car, and most of it was "be sure to..." type of things because I didn't do much wrong.
I resented living there, half of my new job, and this one family who was involved in it all. I didn't understand why I was being held hostage to their weirdness. The landlords were cold and would meet me in parking lots to collect the rent. Odd. It was like they hated me and I had no clue as to why. Eventually I understood it was their daughter, my boss Leticia, who was the linchpin and the common-denominator here. So I gave my notice on the apartment, and Leticia started this grievance procedure at work against me. We ended up in a meeting with the top LCSW that I respected, and her boss that I thought was okay. Turns out she attacked my work, so I attacked her in kind. I told how she was holding not socializing with her and Gracie enough against me. It came off more like I thought she was sexually embarrassing me, I think, when it wasn't true and I just think the attack shocked me too much to be able to express myself well. Besides, she was the boss, and I wasn't.
They fired me. I knew they were going to do it, and I stubbornly stayed on until they did. I shouldn't have done that as it was a dead six months on my resume that served no purpose. Nobody believed me, although I think the LCSW did, but his hands were tied against a bunch of women who weren't interested in helping me out. My work at Records was superb, and poor Charles was not happy I was leaving. But the other place... forgetttaboutit.
So the time comes to hand over the keys to the apartment to the landlord/parents, and they lifted the stove and saw it was a mess. I lost it, yelling about how it was a mess when I moved in as well! They denied it. Gus thought I had lost my mind and he sent me to the car as he cleaned it. They charged us for blinds that were already broken, and they just looked clueless as to why I was so pissed. I couldn't express myself well then, my anger with my past and present making it really difficult to be diplomatic. I just wasn't... finished, ya know? Rough around the edges. Too quiet. Not many opinions. I was still figuring out who I was.
I've lived in many, many places in my life and this one stands out because it was this whole convoluted relationship thing that I was so in over my head with. I didn't want that, I only wanted a fair price for a decent place. Funny thing is, I had another incident with a boss who got too close too soon with me, and it too blew up in my face. Only that time, I had truly learned my lesson—I quit well before it wormed its insidious way into my work. That one's another story but I was much better prepared to handle it, and so I did and I feel proud of myself because it was a doozy.
Peeps: Keep work and home life separate. It's great if you get along well enough to mix it up some, but never assume other peeps want to. Yeah!
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!
Rocky Horror Fivesixer Show I know you have these...
|"Blog City ~ Every Blogger's Paradise" Stolen Prompt from "30-Day Blogging Challenge"
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!
|"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...
|"Blog City ~ Every Blogger's Paradise" Day 2090 September 13, 2019
Prompt: How have your friendships with other women inspired you, or helped you to become a better you?
Well. My friendships over the years have been mostly shallow ones. I don't make friends easily, or rather I can but I rarely bother. When I do bother, they have often had boundary issues; they may have an addiction to alcohol or drugs, have a negative home environment, or be ill like me. I don't care about these issues on their face, but eventually they've encroached on my life in some way as to be detrimental to my health. I mean, stress is the trigger with my adrenal failure, so stress has to be avoided.
However, it doesn't really mean it's just my illness that keeps me from having close friends that are healthy. Mentally healthy for me, I mean, but not without mental illness I am not saying this well! It's like love—hard to describe although we try to. I've not chosen well in my youth, picking friends who do not have my best interests at heart. In fact, I was quite the friend victim for a long time. It wasn't until 1994, when I last saw my childhood 'best' friend at the Indianapolis Airport as I left in a jiffy, that I got tougher on my standards.
So, no more friends who make me feel 'less than'. No more being called 'flaky' and 'not adventurous' or 'boring'. Umm yes, I am all those things, but that's just who I am. I have a great bestie, I met her here actually, Candy praying 4 Adrie. We have the same Myer's Briggs personality type *giggles* Can you beat that?! Anyways, Connie thinks I'm not so boring, perhaps. I've grown into a passive rebel in my middle age If I think a rule is stupid, I might break it. I'm nowhere near a rebel in most people's minds, but my bestie is a very straight arrow who believes in truth and kindness and teaches peeps by example how to maintain integrity So, yeah, she influences me tons but all in a good way (for once) and the peeps of the past... shall be left in my wake!
I have been busy last few days, as I have cancelled my upcoming surgery for those sacroiliac joint injections in my lowest back. Why? They wanted this fee. Which is weird, they called it a 'facility fee'. Only I have alrady paid my MAX out of pocket cash sum this year, so all my copays are zero. It's a nice perk after paying so much money in copays for most of the year. So, I called and asked them whata the heck it was for?
Long story very short, I have NO out of network coverage at all in my current healthplan. It's a way they're saving money while charging me like over 500% from the beginning of the Obamacare individual plans. So, this surgery center was going to NOT tell me they were out of network, do it at a lowered cost, then CHARGE ME for every.single.penny. WTF? Are you SERIOUS? What part of I'm on disability do you not understand?
So, I have to now see an in network doctor who is a Psyiatrist, and he sounds good. He is affiliated with the Providence hospital so it will all be covered—my healthcare insurer is actually Providence, so it helps to have hospitals from them as well! (I think I'm spelling that specialty wrong but pffft I'm tired.)
I really, really need to try these SI joint injections... my three toes on the right foot are pure neuropathy this month, and hurt badly when flexed. Usually it's more a burning but this is just pain like muscle pain but when flexed, severe. Lovely. It's my back. I know it is. The left foot isn't so bad as the right.
For some reason, I swelled up this past month far beyond what I normally do, even in the heart of Summer. My legs from thighs to feet are incredibly swollen. Not sure what it is. A lot of leg pain at night too has me tossing and turning. I tend to think it's still my body getting used to the new steroids schedule. I finally was stable, but it only last a couple of days. Today I've been ill all day. Had to go up by 2mg, which is par for the course and much smaller than before now I have those 1mg custom compounded pills. Cool.
Anyways, I have been working on a greeting card for my grandson's birthday. It's been hard as I do it in Publisher on the PC, and my printer argh had a few issues since I changed the ISP on the wi fi. Anyways, it's finally printed. I wish my printer had a better printing quality! It's a newer HP ENVY so it's great to print from my Apples and the PC, but the quality is not there. Ah well! Now it'll likely be a day or two late but can't help it with the printing issues. Come Christmas, I'll be ready with a gift of some sort...
Off to go eat dinner and read, been up all day as usual. So ODD waking up early every day, no matter what. No more appointments upcoming... for weeks. I am so happy I could cry! I'm tired of appointments, uncomfortable with the swelling, and a bit cranky and in my own head perhaps.
We went to feed the cats and Willie the black cat—mischievous as he is—had disappeared. Found him an hour later checking out the riding lawn mower in the shed Yup he got out and we didn't even notice this time. He LIVES for this to happen Cats man, never a dull moment!
|"Blog City ~ Every Blogger's Paradise" Day 2088 September 11, 2019
Prompt: 9-11. Write a poem or something about 9-11.
Faith is to believe what you do not see;
the reward of this faith is to see what you believe. ~Saint Augustine
9/11. Today's the day we remember that horrid day. To most of us, it is a day as famous and indelible in our minds as the assassination was to JFK, President Kennedy. I wasn't around then, but I was there for nearly every second of 9/11: both then, and now.
I suppose I've chosen to come to terms with the hate and shock of that dreadful day by learning more about the people who were there. I've watched the documentary on building the 'new' towers, and it was fascinating. How do you build one of the tallest buildings in the world with the footprint of a mouse? I mean, it's in the heart of New York so there's traffic all around, and it's an awesome coordination of manpower and machines with restrictions on the number of those that can be onsite at one time. That project manager must have had one heck of an ulcer!
I listened to the stories of the first responders who lived; living, but forever damaged. The most poignant of these was a book I read years ago written by Bonnie McEneaney, Messages: Signs, Visits, and Premonitions from Loved Ones Lost on 9/11. It sounds hokey but this is how I found my faith, really; researching near death experiences, spirits 'seen' and felt, and other accounts not based on religion but uniquely laying the foundation for my faith, nevertheless. I find first person accounts to be not only fascinating but inspirational. Yes, I believe much of it, but I do employ critical thinking and reasoning, too.
So this book is about first person accounts from the family and friends of those who perished in any manner from the 9/11 attacks. There are some really astounding entries, but they're are all accounts of I guess what you would call 'supernatural encounters' since their deaths. I do think we are capable of touching 'the other side', if we are highly attuned to it, and have done so myself in a few–more subtle–ways. The stories in this book are really ah... believable. They aren't huge examples of life after death, if you will, but are comforting to me. You learn a few things about the victims, who they really were, separate from 9/11. Indeed, most interesting are the many premonitions survivors and victims had of impending doom, and some of a plane crash. Quelle interesting!
I guess 9/11 is an overwhelmingly sad day that ultimately makes me feel prouder to be American. It's a world event and the victims are international, but it happened on American soil and that is just so rare for my generation. We were truly terrified, and that doesn't happen very often here Not pre-Trump
(Since he took office it's been embarrassing to be American, truly something that is such an odd feeling. I know America stood proud before our current president, and I hope we will do so again, but while in the morass of the present? It really seems an impossible situation, the way he has polarized America and much of the world's politics—this man who is absolutely shit-house crazy. Sometimes I wonder if he is the anti-christ, I can't help it And I don't follow politics at all, I just hear reports of his behavior everywhere; America right now is pretty much a sitting duck being force-fed lies and veiled facts we have no wish to swallow but soon we will throw it back up at his feet .)
If I'm still kickin' in twenty years, it'll continue to be a day of remembrance and honor. Even when I try to turn away from it, it still smacks me in the face in some ways on this auspicious twenty-four-hour period. I would posit this awareness is likely the answer to the 'why?!' questions we have, then and now, but that's based on my spiritual beliefs and why awful shit happens to the best of people. Then again, I think bad crap happens to everyone, good or bad, light or dark, eventually....
(Likely the only time I'll expound a bit on my feelings on the president.)
(Heck, I can't even make myself capitalize the word 'president'. Yeah, not good.)
...Umm I thought of taking the political out as this is about 9/11. Just this morning I read a tribute to Todd Beamer from Flight 93 online and I got pissy because someone was talking about politics instead of saying something nice to his family. But the more I think about it, THIS is one of the uniqiue changes to America since 9/11: it got us to think about politics. Even peeps like me, who eschew them not on principal any longer, but out of sheer frustration and self preservation.
9/11 changed how we all think of our global safety, I think; wars; foreign aid; arms dealers; and certainly those foreigners AND locals who join terrorist extreme groups like ISIS. Just remember: those responsible are from an extreme group, and have nothing to do with Faith. Heck, I wouldn't even say they had much to do with any organized religion. Hopefully peeps know this now. And the stumpy trumpy stays, but he doesn't get capitalized. In fact, I'm, going to take all the capital 'T's out of his name. Why? Because I feel like it. It's the least I can do to protest when I really am not a protestor type of person. I voted for someone else, it's the best I can do, is to vote.
But check out the book if interested, it's on Amazon or it should still be. Let me know what you think about it and the subject matter if you do read it, if ya wanna
Until next year...
|"Blog City ~ Every Blogger's Paradise" Day 2087 September 10, 2019
Prompt: Can you think of something that played a major role or was a big part of your childhood, which the children of today may never experience?
There’s more than one I can think of. Books, now that’s a good one. Sad that many future kids won’t know what it’s like to get ink stains on their hands; to smell that earthly ink smell wafting up from a beloved paperback. They will probably only visit the library when their class does, and soon enough it will be all computer-based research. There won’t be books on the shelves, just rows and rows of long tables and desks with computers on them. Better yet, with tablets!
I actually use a Kindle e-reader nowadays but only because I can’t physically haul around thousands of books any longer: I’m not gettin’ any younger! And I can read my books on the Kindle Paperwhite easily, even with my wonky vision in one eye, due to the way it’s lit from within and the fact that I can make the font bigger. I still have some books, and I do miss them in general, but I get my fix by perusing the used bookshelves at the store in town. They cost a lot, the fiction and literature books, but everything else is dirt cheap. Great place to find medical tombs as well
"Blog City ~ Every Blogger's Paradise" Day 2086 September 9, 2019
Prompt: Write about something that you or someone you know were obsessed with and if that obsession still continues.
You mean besides cake? Lol. Reading. I've been obsessed with reading since I read Alice in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass, given to me by a family friend in a 1950's edition when I was but nine years old. I couldn't believe an 'adult' book could be so fun! And descriptive. And incredibly weird. And have chess, and cats, and holes in the lawn. I mean, whata wonderland, right? And cake. They had cake.
From there I started reading horror books, but I decided those were too scary. Then I read all the young adult books in my libraries. I'm trying to remember—oh yes! I began romance novels at a really young age. Just the Silhouette ones, the series ones of old, not very long books. I think I began reading the 'big' books when I was fourteen. Les Miserables comes to mind. Funny thing is, they were never read for school because it wasn't required really. I wasn't considered very smart and I lived up to that expectation with not much effort. No, it wasn't until college I started to read literature that everyone else had already read in high school.
My second full time job was at a popular book chain, so my love of reading just went on, and grew and grew. I was to go on to two more bookselling jobs, so I got to really know the inventory. I was considered an expert on long literary and romantic novels at work, which was very rewarding. Yeah since I was nine, there's only been about ten years where I wasn't reading; my pain medication made it impossible for me to focus on the words, for about a decade. Took me a while, but boy am I back! I do read pretty fast once again. I read one history and or science non-fiction book for every three or four series mysteries I'm currently involved with. Numerous books begun and in various stages? Yup. Yeah, rather like a relationship: I'm totally loving the comedic mysteries I've found for my Kindle
But yeah, I also love white cake