Are they still called that or can we just put a blanket name of “Snobby Pretentious Useless Fucktards” over them?

I’m in my old stomping grounds.  Old friend and I had lunch and hang time until got my hair done.  After, I popped into the coolest pub I’ve ever seen in the city.  Not that I’ve seen them all, but this is cool without trying to be.  And for other reasons.

Sure it’s a pub but families come here ALL THE TIME.  Reference to time? There’s a five-year-old here, well past bedtime, but he’s surrounded by lots of responsible family members.

Call some kind of Family Services Agency? I say no.  If anything happened, every single person would be right on it to help. 

But that’s a little heavy duty and strays from this Establishment’s Coolness.  And the baby blanket people I hate.  Misplaced Gentrification as well, but let’s not bother with that now.

This place has managed to combine pieces of historical politics, art, pop culture and more all over the place.  It’s a crazy amalgam, but totally awesome MUSEUM. 

It’s like a puzzle when you first look at it.  Totally overwhelming.  But give yourself and your eyes a chance to relax and you’ll be amazed.  Everything will fit.

Or it won’t.  But it will somehow.  Just look.  That’s art.

Music? Some Live Bands.  Otherwise, great music that will be up tempo, down tempo, reggae, more that will just make you feel relaxed and… HAPPY!

So I’m outside having a cigarette and I see this couple, could they be more bewildered, asking, “What is thi…do they serve foo…”

I replied, “It’s a really awesome pub.  Go in.  And they serve foo…”

They turned their heads and marched away before I could show them the menu on the window.

Good thing they walked away.  They should have been turned away.


I’m exhausted.  Both my head and my body need a serious break. 

Two new drugs.  Side effects.  One of the two pulled for several reasons.  The last drug to treat the problems.  The problems are still there.  The drug is new so who knows what will happen.  You’ve just started the drug, so you need more time to see if it works, and the side effects go away.

I DEFINITELY needed a break the day my uterine biopsies were done. My OB/GYN did them last week. 

Although, before I continue, this Post might be a bit much for the squeamish.  So consider yourself WARNED.

It was the second most painful procedure I’ve gone through in my entire life.  The first being the insertion of a urinary catheter while just lying on an examining table.  The Doctor put it in faster than completing the sentence:

“Okay, this is going to hurt a bit.”

I screamed at such massive decibels.  I still wonder to this day if I didn’t scare the hell out of all the other women in the waiting room.  Or perhaps, only dogs could hear me. 

I don’t remember if any women were in the waiting room.  I was like 18 tornados trying to find the exit doors when everything was done.  This was for ongoing UTI’s.

I have no clue what my OB/GYN was doing for her biopsies.  However, I can say she’s thorough? Holy shit.  Or holy blood?

I have a new Fibroid, the lining of my uterus is fuller, thicker etc.  Basically, a lot more blood and tissue for an egg to implant, but not good as my Fibroids are taking up space there too.

The biopsies, though? They’ll be benign.  THEY.

I could “feel” her almost slicing me up all over the place!!! Not like a simple “Punch Biopsy.”  Those are like a small poke.  You feel like you’ve just been vaccinated with a large needle.

After we were done, she told me quickly, “Move up the table.  Move up the table.  I don’t want to get any blood floor.” 

Like I said, she must be…thorough?

She told me to relax, take my time, I did a great job (she said that as we were doing it, I could take a break.)  It took me so long to actually move, then clean up, then try to get dressed…they actually sent a nurse to check on me.

BWAH-HAH-HAH!!!!!!!!

Ah, I love Medicine! I wonder what my hysterectomy will be like?

My OB/GYN is lovely though.  Only two things to note for the anaesthetist:

1. Not to be picky, but if you’re thinking about Propofol? It makes me sick.  Midazolam, please? 
Granted, those were only for less invasive things I’ve had done.  Still, no Propofol in your Alchemy.

2. DO NOT forget I’m on Propranolol.  I’d like to wake up after surgery.


Just mentioned on Twitter that I’ve got WP back up and running on my mobile. Hopefully more Posts soon?

I’m just starting Propranolol.  Been a month now and the side effects are kicking my ass off.  However, in a good way? Like I’m trippin’ out on significant levels of Opiates.

I’m still feeling pretty gonzo with my second dose.  I’m 40mg bid now. NOTE: Update Meds Page.

Later.  It can wait.  I took my second dose not long ago.

Why Propranolol? Based upon a fairly educated guess, I’m now dealing with chronic migraines.  It can be used for prevention.  Maybe kicked off from when I had every sign of a Stroke, and was chucked into hospital last summer.

Wow! This is a bit of a Post! Writing it when I feel like I’m in between being on Morphine and Heroin.

Not that I’ve done Heroin.  Am I spelling it correctly? Have I slept with a Heroine? Do I need one? Holy crap! Damn straight I do! *laughing*

No, I’ve just talked to people who have used it and what it was like for them; what they experienced.  Did I ever find out what some people can experience!

Utterly fascinating! I realized why so many people could become addicted to it.

I’ll also say it’s utterly fascinating why I’m getting stoned out my mind.  Well, it is to me because I really get off on Pharmacokinetics.

I’ve gone through every med I take and found the answer. Plus extra stuff which is just icing on the cake.

Super-awesome Post to write, but hells bells no, not now!  I can’t even handle this screen anymore.

Laters…


To start, Antique Technology! Yum.

I obviously go for cameras, being a photographer.  Stereos. Telephones. 

I had a fully functional 1960’s Nordmende.  It was a small console.  About the size of a very large night or table. Nothing on top of it.

The front? Holy crap.  Doubtful Ivory “Buttons.”  I say that word because heavy, large and a really strong punch to use them.

Oh.  Nordemende? Manufacturer from Germany if you didn’t know.

The “Buttons” had two functions.  They could select the Radio options for AM, FM, SW and LW.  Ahhh! Short Wave and Long Wave? Totally cool.

Even cooler for the Radio! Does anyone remember the “Magic Band” Tuning???

If you don’t know of it, a blue band would appear in a little window when you were tuning into a station.  Sometimes out of nowhere!  But that was the point. 

The line became skinnier and skinnier, then disappeared.  That  indicated you had received the best reception.  Sound too high tech for the era? Well, I won’t go into how bulb and tube works. *laughing*

I’m not done yet though! Turntable!

Below the Radio Area, there was a door you could open.  Voila! There it was.  Played 45, 33 and 78! Spindle, pin you could swap, auto or manual arm to move to the album.

There were three more “Buttons” by the Radio options.  They controlled different types of sound.  Just like iTunes gives you options for more bass, a dance environment or being in an Opera House.  There were only just three selections, that’s all.

Groovy, huh?

Phones? All kinds! I think this Post might be getting a bit long though.  I got pretty ramped up (amped up?) Sorry.  Groaner… about the Stereo.

Although, I will say I have found Antique Phones that have worked too!

More later on something not so old.  But still cool.  In a Dorky way.  Because I’m a Dork.  And a definite Geek!


Have you ever wanted to write a Blog Post and you just can’t do it.  I mean, you really want to do it.  You HAVE to do it. 

If you don’t, you’re going to totally blow up, go insane, disintegrate into pieces, or you have no clue. 

Because you’re too “preoccupied” with the Post you HAVE TO WRITE!!!

Well, there’s both the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea! It’s called your head!

Because there’s nothing you can do but let those seething, boiling waves drown it over and over with your thoughts.  The thoughts you want to get out so bad, you would trade choking on them, just to make it happen.

I’m choking, but nothing’s happening.  Except for this.  And clearly it’s not what I want to talk about? Yes? Well, if it wasn’t clear, there you go.

So my brain is trying to keep it’s head(?) above all of that water.  So many thoughts churning around and I’m trying so hard to get a grip.  Find the sandy beach. 

Hell, I’ll even choke on the sand if that would help!

Gulp.

Where’s Spock? He’s always my good side at sorting these things out.


I’m thinking of the wonderful person who left me the wonderful comment on my Post “Possible Departure.”  I’m also thinking of the new people I’m meeting now from the above hashtags on Twitter.

Can Dr. PA perform whatever surgery to reconnect her Blog causing the (best description) phantom limb pain? She’s not even sure what limb, or organ is affected.  And who’s to say there’s only one?

My personal writing is rather different than what you would see here.  Except possibly in style, in parts.  A smattering or splattering, here and there.

As far as my personal writing, I’ve got my fingers stuffed in every pie.  Apart from Screenplay which I would love.  I have a theatre background so I think it would be very fulfilling.
 
Otherwise, you name it, I’ve done it.  Or, have worked on and lost it, due to technological disasters–before a backup.  However, the main idea or ideas remained in my head.

I probably could have reconstructed it, like a five-year-old learning to tie their shoelaces for the first time.  Or maybe not.

I’d still give it a shot though.  If it became too troublesome and/or frustrating, I’d just stop and put it aside. 

That’s one thing I’ve learned.  If you still see one iota of potential in something you’ve set aside, even lost in a box, in an ancient notepad or on the floor under furniture *raises hand* NEVER throw it away.

Conversely, only you know what you’ve produced and where it came from.  I find (or feel) these are your most intimate pieces of work.  They are for me.  They are my poems.

It depends, but sometimes I can look at a poem I’ve written and immediately know it carries zero value whatsoever.  Others are like a rating system.  Like when you are at an intersection? Red, Yellow, Green…

What about environment? Well, it’s kind of odd for me.  I’ll start simply with either silence or a lot of sound.  Loud! Or just background, useless loops.

I have Asperger’s and ADD.  This is where things get a little strange.  I have some Auditory Processing Issues with my Asperger’s.  That might account for the various sounds I “automatically choose” to hear. 

The ADD! Indeed, you would think I could not focus that well? It might prove difficult to write? Yes, that happens.

There is another side to it though.  I can hyperfocus to extreme degrees on subjects that very much interest me.  A bomb blast next to me could happen and I wouldn’t have a clue.  And actually, the Asperger’s falls in line with that as well.

So, it’s somewhat comforting to know my rather complicated brain (more diagnoses) is good in a somewhat, somehow kind of way. *laughing*  Nah, my nutty bean comes in handy for other things too.

Well, I guess that’s some info about my writing and how I try to accomplish more than bogroll.  I find it hard to keep up with a lot of the time, but it’s still there.

Plus, there is no such thing as a lonely writer.  You have two awesome friends that will never leave your side.  A Dictionary and a Thesaurus.


Although it has not been scientifically proven, Bedbugs do not cause headaches.  However, they do cause an allergic reaction through biting.  Or, rather by infusion and extraction.  It’s really interesting but it can totally suck.  Because I get bitten like crazy.

They have two dastardly needles to stab you in sequence.  The first is an anaesthetic; the second is then used to draw your blood.

Quite compassionate little Vampires? I think not!

So I’m starting to unpack some things in between doing my regular laundry and all of the clothes in my closet (which had to be done on the day of the TWO times of Pesticide Treatment.)

Well, the closet I couldn’t get done.  I have a cane and very much needed now for some mysterious head injury.  I was told I could do my closet within my own suitable time frame because I’m sick–from that and more.

And yet, I still can’t fathom ANYONE doing all of that!

I’m not a Clothes Whore (am I?) Well, I have a lot of nice stuff but if you’re Jewish, I also have a lot of schmatte.  So, okay.  I’m a Clothes Whore to some degree. 

Fine.  I’ll admit to “Labels” too.

Back to unpacking.  For Treatment, put a lot of items in big garbage bags where Bedbugs might be hiding out.  However, only certain things.  This didn’t make any sense to me at all.

Why shove my suitcase that was in my closet, and not a big box of photographs, wide open, in the corner of a room? The corner was dark.  My suitcase was closed up tight.

ARGH!!!!!!

Which brings us to tonight.  I had to bag two Bankers Boxes that were completely falling apart, full of documents.  Now do you get the photos in the corner of the room idea?

Well, I have to unpack everything, so just like moving? Time to get rid of a lot of junk! Although I knew it would be a disaster…  Bedbugs? Paper? Boxes nearly disintegrating?

I went out and bought a Paper Shredder, new Bankers Boxes, and let the fun begin! No fun.

I had to buy the cheapest Shredder and it can get jammed after about seven or eight pages! The bucket looks pretty big, but maybe “Spatially Challenged Me” somehow doesn’t “Get It.”

Or the Shredder is minutely, minute.  A few sheets in, dump.  A few sheets in…

But I think I “released” some of those pricks.  Pun intended.

Bedbugs like blood.  They’re drawn to it.  Which is lovely when I have my period and THEY HAVE ME!!!  I have to be so careful.

The Shredder doesn’t like any airborne (or other types) of chemicals.  Oh, okay.  I have black bags everywhere, nowhere to sit, how and…?

It became a combination of construction and surgery.

I had to block off all the white powder with bags to keep it from floating around? They like blood.  Medical procedure gloves for paper cuts! A pair of tweezers and a little plastic container of water.

That last part? I know.  Definitely, Dr. PA.  Catch anything that might fall and plop!

That’s another secret to tell.  If there are any problems with your mattresses and you’ve stripped away all of your sheets and bagged them too? Vacuum, as well?

If you have patience and a good eye?

I did the above but things didn’t “look” right.  I saw very tiny black, spots that weren’t fluff or dust.  Then a little RED one!

I started squishing them with my hands but that just resulted in more bites.  Enter the (soon to be patented) “Tweezer Invention!”

Going through the paper, trying to catch stuff, it’s stirred something up.  I’ve got some bites on my hand and wrist.  But even after the Professional Treatment, they said to expect activity for a few days.

ARGH!!!!!!

Don’t tell the neighbours.


I mentioned on Twitter that it might, might be time for me to hang up my Blogging Hat.  Or, to say stop my Blogging Hands.  That would be more appropriate.

It’s not an ongoing, forever-we-experience, Blogging Crisis.  It’s not Writer’s Block.  I could think of many things to write about.

Things have changed.  Some that are easy(ier) to explain, some I don’t know if I can, but I’ll try.  Some I don’t even know if I can explain to me!

My Blog has been up for nine years.  I don’t know how long any measurement that means.  In terms of living, averages of any kind, but that’s pretty irrelevant, I think.

I mentioned the word, “living.”

Are Blogs really living entities? I believe the answer is a very firm, no.  We MAKE them living entities.

I made an analogy on Twitter as well, regarding the “feelings” between both my Blog and me, as a person.  I said, “I feel like I have phantom limb pain.”

It’s true.  Something has been severed.  The “living entity” I have created, that which was so connected to me…  It’s not anymore…  But to what degree, and even what part of my body, I do not know…yet.

Despite still writing a bit more, I have been tremendously unhappy with my Blog.  The beginning of things being severed? There were times I couldn’t even look at it.  Now, things seem so, terribly disjointed and I can’t fix them.

I definitely don’t expect you to understand that last sentence!

Does reading my Blog make me cry? *laughing* Of course not! It’s my life!

Thinking about my life might make me cry, but my entire life isn’t on my Blog.

The only times I’ve cried reading my Blog was years ago.  I would receive these Comments from utter strangers.  They would pour their hearts out to me and tell me I literally saved their lives.

I would sit and bawl my eyes out.  Why me? Who am I? I didn’t say anything? It took a LONG time to respond to people like that! But they were few.  I’m not being egotistical.

I write a lot about having no life.  Well, I do.  We all do.  Perhaps not as we’d always like it, but you can’t escape the fact.

How many hours have I Blogged, read other Blogs, spent time on Twitter when that came along later.  How about all day and all night?

At the time it felt just fine.  Really? Not so really. 

That’s not healthy.  I mean, for me it isn’t.  It’s an unhealthy escape.  Too easy to muck about when I need to focus on getting myself at least somewhat together.  Also, that “somewhat” is just a start.

How long has it been since I really got into my own writing? I mean really got into it? I have SO many unfinished projects, I haven’t sent any Submissions to anyone in ages. *sighs*

Am I done? I sure feel done.  This Post has been exhausting to write.  Difficult, too.  Don’t cry, PA!

*teardrops*

But for now, I’m still here.  I haven’t made a final decision. 

Maybe Dr. PA can perform some surgery on both sides; to mend herself and reattach what she brought to life and into this world.


An afterthought to my last Post “Forever Bullied.”

MOTHERSHIT PSYCHOPATH talks a lot of trash.  It’s like backward primordial ooze but coming out of a Heroin Junkie’s Wormhole.  Or some hole.

I could get her to pour her ooze out through her fists.  C’mon small talker.  I dare ya.

Here, when someone reports any type of assault, no matter how big or small, legal action does not hold between the parties involved.  As soon as you make a telephone call, it’s immediately out your hands. 

After that call, you might have completely wished you had never made that call.  At all!

That’s because any assault reports are directly handled by the Police.  You have no say, except for what happened.  Then, they do a full investigation and prosecution for any and all charges are their decision.

What an evil thought.  I know she’d be screwed though.

Oh, what an evil thought…


Went out tonight.  Getting ready to leave.  This one guy I know through association from a friend (they work together) was there.  So, yeah.  Nice guy, and we got on well too.

Another guy I’ve known for a few years got into this game about, “Which one wanted to go out with me more?” A totally stupid game as one of them was married!

Enter, THIS FUCKING BITCH.

Now, I had tried to be nice to her since Day One.  She was sometimes on, sometimes off.

I’d like to say she’s a total, MOTHERSHIT PSYCHOPATH.  In fact, I will.

So, nice guy by association and, well, MOTHERSHIT PSYCHOPATH pulled this bizarre “thing” recently.

We were sitting at the bar, I had my sunglasses on for head-injury-photophobia, and nothing was happening.  Just silence, watching the TV, I’m not even close to him or saying a word to anyone.  Then, she snaps a picture of us on her mobile phone.

After done, begins howling MOTHERSHIT PSYCHOPATH LAUGHTER! Almost like she was ready to fall off her barstool.  I asked if I could see it.  She showed it only to him.

I said I had littler things that I could care littler about.  I mean, what was MOTHERSHIT PSYCHOPATH going to do? FB, Twitter, Instagram or whatever this “harmless” picture?

Please.

Well, tonight was a real topper!

Association-Dude-Small-Cock-Oedipal-Complex comes running over with some guy’s information on it.  He kept saying he’s looking for someone to date.  I should call him.  He’s really nice.

Perhaps I too loudly said, “WHY THE FUCK WOULD I CALL SOME STRANGER FOR A DATE, WHEN…”  At that point, I was interrupted.

“Well, can I give him your information!”

I think I might have shrieked back? I’m not sure.

WHY THE FUCK WOULD I CALL SOME STRANGER FOR A DATE AND YOU GIVING HIM MY INFORMATION? THAT’S SO FUCKING INSANE! THERE IS NO WAY I WOULD GIVE OUT MY PERSONAL INFORMATION TO A TOTAL STRANGER! EVEN YOU ASKING IS JUST PLAIN RUDE!”

I like the fact that I actually brought up proper manners at the end of my tirade.  What can I say? *shrugs*  I have proper manners.

Then MOTHERSHIT PSYCHOPATH starts screaming, “He’s got lots of money!

And the massive laughter continues…until she lays another one on me: “Oh, are you crying???”

Snark back, with irritability and sarcasm: “No.  I’ve got my sunglasses on.”

BOLT.

Not without a traveller.  Highly illegal but my local does it.  I didn’t even have to pay because the guy working was pissed off too.

I’m close to the owner.  If ANYONE ever gives me a hassle they could be kicked out the door. 

I’m on the fence with this one.  Tell him about it? See if more shit happens?

I always take the high road.  Unless cornered? Which I certainly was tonight.  Now after thinking and calming down, I wish I could have handled things differently.

I felt like my Asperger’s was back in FULL BLOOM.  Like my entire life.  Looking back at everything.  Bullied since born. 

It still happens as an adult.  More times than this.  It makes me wonder, “Bullied until death?”

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