Life Sucks

Okay, you know what? FINALLY I got a decent year in my life. A nice year that is a break. I mean, usually I would be glad to live such a year... and it is only August. Yes.. my wonderful year I shall describe to you right now.

First off, new years eve, I get hypothermia. I spent most of the time changing my clothes, taking hot showers, under blankets--with my heater on. I just could not feel warm for about two weeks. My apartment was a steaming sauna, that would choke most people at the time. However, for two weeks, I always felt damned cold. I had no energy. I could barely get up and walk around.

I try to get my ass together on the fifteenth. Try to start work on all that wonderful stuff I wanted to do this year. I did... every now and then. However for those first three months, I felt mostly like crap. No, wait, I have felt like crap--that felt like Nirvana compared to this. I wanted to get moving. I wanted to do stuff. I just did not have the energy to make it possible. I was, well, weak as a kitten for most of it.

To make things worse, on January 26th, I heard a woman screaming bloody murder outside my apartment about some man after her. Nobody was paying any attention to this. I ended up going outside, in my underwear, leggings and a jacket. Wielding a toy pair of nunchucks, hoping it would scare him--or at least have him laughing so hard at how ridiculous it looked, I could get the situation worked out.

I ended up walking around with these people. Doing my best to stay warm--but only barely succeeding. I did my best to resolve the situation... it never was resolved.

I mean, I continued to help people--even though, my Landlord said that he would evict me for wild drug parties after I offered a hungry man some food. He actually said that if I feed this person, it means that he will be evicting me for having wild drug parties.

It was also January, that I fired my mental health staff. As while I would have kept them on--they kind of were pushing to have me on medication, that was killing me. I do not mean in the usual way a mental health patient thinks being normal is death.. or something (I do not understand that thought really)... no, I was experiencing side effects and drug overdose symptoms that make most ER doctors cringe at their descriptions. I was on half my recommended dosage. The doctor said I should still be taking it.

I kind of questioned him. Tried to find out why I had the diagnosis of bipolar. I have been trying to figure that out all of 2009. As it seems each and every one of my more bipolar symptoms have been caused directly by the treatment I was getting for it. I had been off this medication since August 2009. I was not seeing any major mania or depression that was not somehow caused by some other force.

This also means, that I had the mental health worker who was controlling my funds let off as well.

Let us just summarise this persons ability to do their job: They are working for the Provincial Government.

Any time, I had to have a bill paid, food to eat--or general basic necessities. This worker has generally had issues coming through. Every thing I asked this person, would have some screw up made about it. I may as well have my funds to a crack dealer.

When she was fired, she had to transfer various account information, billing addresses and what not.

While I was also still recovering from nearly freezing to death on New Years Eve, I had to go out, and sort out this person's crap. As from my understanding, she really did nothing, except redirect my cheques and bills to an address I have not even lived at for two years, and ended a few programs... and I tended to spend the first half of the year, cleaning up after her big ass dump.

Which would not be as bad, if I had a working fridge. You see, my apartment had a wonderful fridge. It merely kept the food one degree below ambient temperature. Meaning, most of my food, I may as well have left out on the counter. I had tried telling my landlord, to get it fixed. Usually with him ignoring it... until it started to make a grinding noise even he could hear.

What was even better, I had bought a month's worth of groceries, put them into the fridge and freezer. Was told I could not get it fixed for three days. Great--I just wasted a load of money on stuff that goes bad a lot quicker now. Usually I could freeze it in the freezer, and have it rot in two days in the fridge. So between me fixing a lot of screw ups of my Provincial Government Hired financial advisor, and a loss of an entire months food, I am now really screwed up.

The fridge is fixed, and a few days later, I get a strange noise and the smell of burnt rubber. I flip the breaker and phone the landlord. The landlord comes over, I inform him of the strange noise, the burnt rubber smell, and that I flipped the breaker. He immediately goes to the fridge. Says he does not hear a noise. To which I point out the breaker has been flipped. I told him that as he entered.

He then, to dispute the rubber smell, walks over to a frying pan that I had burned something in, trying to claim THAT was the origin of the rubber smell.

"No, I can assure you, that is burned sugar. It smells nothing like burning rubber."

"There are all sorts of strange smells in this kitchen, how can you tell what smells are from where?"

I should have shouted, "IT IS A KITCHEN YOU FOOL! OF SOMEBODY WHO KNOWS HOW TO COOK REAL FOOD! OF COURSE THERE WILL BE ODD SMELLS! IF IS A FVCKING KITCHEN YOU OAF! THAT IS PART OF THE MAGIC THAT IS COOKING SOMETHING OTHER THAN CHEF BOI'R'DEE!"

Instead, I stayed quiet. I got a new fridge about a few days later.

BTW, while I did not have money to get food, I now have a fridge that works. Woohoo! A step fvcking up!

The thing is, I get somebody in to inspect my apartment. I clean it up. I however, get knocked as not up to standards due to three things wrong:

1. I am unable to pull out the fridge and stove, and thus behind them was dirty. I was told they just slide out, even though empirical evidence shows trying to do so, just make me look like an idiot.
2. There was a horrible smell coming from my sink... which I pointed out, had the Landlord did something to fix the plumbing, it would have stopped.
3. I have a fire hazard that is composed of cardboard and old clothing.

I learned that apparently, if I put cloth next to cardboard, the flash point becomes negative five degrees centigrade or some shit, and BOOM! INSTANT FIRE!

The thing is... my landlord is nuts. He appears to hallucinate odd stuff and what not. He has this idea that I run screaming up and down the halls. He complains about noises that are not there. Such as a fan that is never turned on. Or pipes rattling in my walls. Or that my heater is leaking... even though, I do not ever turn my heater on. The only time I did was in January because I kind of nearly froze myself to death.

He then takes these noises to do emergency entrances into my apartment. Which he never reports by the way. So that at the end of June, when I mentioned that he does this, to the people he answers to, I was just told I was hysterical.

Even worse, he got me committed at the end of June, because he reported:

1. Never sleeping (I do not understand why people do not understand that I do sleep)
2. Running up and down the halls screaming
3. Odd noises coming from my apartment at all times
4. Odd chemical smells from my kitchen stove.
5. Stinks coming from my kitchen sink.
6. Wild drug parties
7. Poor personal hygiene
8. Eradicate behaviour
9. Stuff arranged in a fire hazard type way

There was likely why they thought I was smoking meth, when I showed up at the mental hospital. I spent all of two weeks there, as the staff kind of started wondering why I was there. As I was nothing like what I was getting reported on.

GAH! Maybe it is because my landlord makes crap up.

Never mind he spent a large amount of money to gas my apartment for bugs, and REFUSED TO BELIEVE THE PEST CONTROL WORKER WHO SAID THERE WAS NO SIGN OF BUGS EVER IN THE APARTMENT!

GAH!

It gets better. Because I was committed on the time my rent was to be paid, by his own faulty reports. This past August I was asked to appear at some odd place to do a settlement out of court for my inability to pay my rent. The evidence on the charges was poor constructed shullbit. I was also unable to make it there. Which would be fine, if there was some line I could mention that I could not make it.

Nope, no such line existed. I tried phoning the only number they gave. It linked me to a machine, on information on their group.

I mean, now I have to pay for the costs of that being set up (I would have had to anyways), and I have to pay my rent on time, or face immediate eviction. Why?

Well, my apartment is unsanitary. The only reason listed is that it smells bad. Which again, is the landlord's fault, due to a broken fridge that was never fixed. And my plumbing that he refuses to look at. Kindly saying to just clean up my sink, and it will stop spewing up stuff from the drain.

The beautiful thing is: I am the crazy person here. This landlord is somebody that everybody in the building knows he is nuts. He is completely mental. Yet, we are the crazy ones here.

However, when I point out, that I have my own under wear go missing, and woke up in May with a large cum shot on my face... left shoulder and left elbow. And that my building manager is the only other person with keys, and is known to make often emergency entrances for what amounts to really poor excuses. Usually only to have me wake up, to him looking through my laundry pile... well, I am obviously going through a manic episode and should take medication to remove my thoughts of grandiose.

I have a large muscle man, who lives next door, making poor excuses to go through my laundry pile. And I am being told be medicated, because it bothers me!

This is the same person, who sees bugs everywhere, that really do not exist outside his head. Kind of on the level of a recovering heroin addict I know for his reactions to these invisible terror. Hears noises that are not being made. Hears people running up and down the halls screaming. Assumes that if young people are causing issues, that I am, somehow, associated with them, if not the ring leader.

And everybody in the building knows he is fvcking nuts. However, most of these people are also being treated for mental illnesses themselves. So, I am certain, that if they were to complain, they'd get the same results I would. That I am just crazy and hallucinating this crap--and perhaps I should start taking meds for my bipolar.

Essentially, I have learned, that if a girl, complains that a large man is taking underwear from her laundry pile and is worried that the one morning she woke up with a cum shot on her face, this means she needs to medicated for being bipolar.

GAH!

I mean, I also had to deal with a break up with a rather psychotic girl this year as well. As well as the fact my Mom is so psychotic she is now useless as a resource, as well, I have no idea which person I am talking to with Mom. And only some of them remember what I said, or the issues I have had. I have however managed to clear things up with my Dad.

I also got a bed this July. As all of this year, I spent sleeping on the floor.

The thing is: this is the best and least screwed up year I have had in nearly two decades. I mean, the last time I had a year with this little issue I would have had to been ten years old. I mean--seventeen years of screwed up crap--and this one is probably the easiest.

I dunno--I am not looking forward to the Fall. As either things are getting better... or I got a lot of catching up to do, for my relatively easy year.

Either way, I am really wanting to move out, and would love to find a roommate, that I could split the rent on another place I would get.

I mean--I really do not care how psychotic my room mate is anymore. I am certain that as long as he or she is honest in what they are doing, I should have less of an issue with it.

DO NOT Masturbate while watching Jim Henson's Labyrinth

Okay... I do some pretty weird and odd things. Yes. At one point, I put on some Internet porn, while playing Jim Henson's Labyrinth. It was another Tuesday for me--and I figured, I am a little bit bored. Maybe I will motivate myself with some dirty stories, that is Erotic Fiction. I had put Jim Henson's Labyrinth on a bit prior. I was half watching it.. but really, that is all I have to do with that movie. I really do not think I missed much.

As well, it was a movie from before movies decided that the need to change camera angles and scenes fast enough to give small dogs seizures.

So, thanks to newer movies ruining me, by their flashing a scene for five seconds then onto another one like they were targeted for people with severe ADD, I was generally able to quickly see the wonderful and beautiful scenes in the movie. They truly were nice btw.

I was also able to load up some erotic fiction to try to release some pressure that tends to build up naturally. The movie was helping slow the build up. We have a stupid girl, who thinks she is more clever than she is. Kind of reminds me of some all blog writers. We have a David Bowie wandering around, essentially being the girls subconscious side of her mind. One that is merely there to keep her from her goal.

Girl has a really fvcked up mind. I mean, yes, I am certain I do have David Bowie running around in my head--but I understand it is because I am screwed up.

So, I am going into a fantasy or two. It is the internet, and erotic fiction covers all targets. Well, it covers a few that require the writer have some knowledge of biology before working on it.

I am going through it--imagining my little fantasy world, where sex is perfect. There are no issues... when the movie starts to pop in and interrupt. No... no... I can just ignore the fact we have a rather freaky looking David Bowie singing for a kid that he is going to turn into a Goblin. I can shut that out, while I explore.

Well, turns out I could not. I got off in my fantasy world, without much interference that time.

However, every time, I have tried to think about sex... David Bowie enters my head Labyrinth style.

I mean--maybe I should just accept this and make a sexual sort of fantasy out of it.

How about... no!!

I mean, I did consider the idea that doing this would have me get turned on during watching Labyrinth. I have a friend, that I had a threesome with, while watching Sweeney Todd. Who now gets an erection EVERY time he sees the movie. This same friend, I had another threesome with while he was playing Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time. No word on if that has made him get an erection at Legend Zelda games, young Zelda or young link. Or at the mention of forest stones. Me and his girlfriend kind of jumped him during the first speech Link and Zelda have, after he sneaks into that spot.

I mean, I am cool with getting hot when watching the movie. Or even when looking at David Bowie.

No... what really freaks me out, is when I am trying to have a nice peaceful, estrange sexual fantasy that breaks several taboos and quite possibly immoral, I suddenly have cast members from Jim Henson's Labyrinth show up.

It makes me feel guilty about what I am doing, and a bad person. Considering the actions in these fantasies WOULD make me a bad person, should I lose the ability to tell fantasy from reality--I really do not appreciate the added guests in the fantasy. GAH! Thank you David Bowie, you ruined sex for me!

NO! NO! NOT MORE CONFORMITY CRAP AS SUCH!

GAH! Okay--it is VERY rarely that a news story gets me pissed off enough that I am going to use my one tool to STOP PEOPLE BEING WRONG ON THE INTERNETS.

Because if it is one thing we cannot have, it is wrong people on the interwebs.

So, I am just going to unload this onto the the truck of the internet... well no wait--my colleague just said it is closer to a series of tubes.

Anyways--who is wrong today... why none other than the people all in awe of Transsexual Rappers. You know, the Sissy Bouncers.

New York Times Pretends to Cover Sissy Bouncers

Okay, first off: I do not care if you are a Xtain Nazi Midget Newt who is doing the rap. Or if you are gay, trans or what not.

If I enjoy your music, I am (generally) open enough to understand that you might have different views of the world in contrast to mine. Besides, if you are wrong, I do have a blog, which is of course the correct tool to correct wrong people on the Internets. Which is okay. It rarely is something that overly affects your end product. Just look at all the great writers and composers over the years. Some of them were very sick, sick twisted bastards.

Convsersely, I would ask, that if I were transsexual, that simply because you are also transsexual and making this item, not to automatically assume I am going to enjoy or really say anything other than, "that is nice."

Okay--now that this aside... let us go over a few issues.

Why in Eris' prickle orange name would I think Rap is homophobic. Personally I think Eminem is probably one of the most gayest rappers out there. Personally I am waiting for Eminem to appear on the MTV Music awards and do a messy open mouthed kiss with Elton John. After the crap about how too girls trying to kiss on camera--and finding it may not be for them, and was a bit awkward as being "edgy".

That was never edgy. However, I am fairly certain Eminem doing a sloppy open mouth kiss with Elton John would definitely, in my deranged mind, would be edgy.

Though, if Eminem did that, it would still not confirm he is gay to me. As well--his main shtick is, that he is a shock artist that gives the audience what they want. You know, that whole "What you say I am" thing he did on his second LP.

Either way, considering how many groups we have that are your atypical rap group doing the stuff--that is anything that are not white and black people born and raised in suburbia for the most part--having people who are gay, lesbian, bi, /trans.*/, allied or any of the wonderful other labels that make the Pride Rainbow into a wonderful alphabet soup do it really does not seem odd to me.

Now, if we had Molly the Rapping Sheep, THAT would be something I would love to see a news story on.

Okay--next detail... performing at a sports bar.. okay that is... in New Fvcking Orleans?!?!?

I thought that had sunk and was currently next to Atlantis? Dammit! Well Hurricane Season IS coming up again.

Well, lets see, we have some people that are part of the Pride community, performing in probably the most open city in the continent, save for San Franfvckingsisco. I mean, I am fairly certain that if California were to sink into the ocean and New Orleans somehow was high enough above water to still hold a population (maybe set up a glass dome around it? This IS the 21st Century and all--we were suppose to get glass dome cities weren't we?), I am fairly certain no other city could easily compare with New Orleans to hold the role San Fransisco once held.

As well, the glass dome option is not as real of one for San Fransisco, as it requires a form of foundation that is not currently situated on a major fault.

So, okay, we have Sissy Bouncers, performing a genre that already has plenty of atypical entries in it (that is people who have not grown up in suburbia who have some weird sets of delusions about their street cred and make up ridiculous stories about being shot eight times before making it in rap), in the second most open city to their gender and sexual orientations on the continent.

FLAGGED FOR LACK OF FVCKING RELEVANCE!

But no... but no--who gives me this revolutionary news story? Twitters @TGWorldNews

Okay--you know what? This is a typical Web 3.0 thing they do. The comb through twitter, and find all the transgendered stuff people are really loving. Which there are plenty of people who think this is a wonderful concept.

Consider this having me add a Web 3.0 tag to my blog entries. I normally append stuff with "fail" on this subject... but well with Web 3.0's rather revolutionary retarded idea of "the sampling wisdom of crowds", prepending "fail" to Web 3.0 tags would be redundant.

But then, for some reason, I missed out on why one million people are less able to be idiots than one person.

Damn it! Handle Store Owners Better

Gah!

This is why people follow you around as trouble makers in stores. YOU CONFIRM IT TO THEM!

Okay, I have two friends, who generally have people following them around like trouble makers. Which okay--I have never really seen them get into trouble. Usually the store owners will peg them as trouble makers right away. Which, you know--generally store owners come up to me, usually at first, like I am a huge ass trouble maker.

However, I react a lot differently from these two. One will just sneer and get ticked off--generally act all irritated with the store owner.

The other will react right away. Start screaming her head off. She is not a trouble maker and all that other stuff. Not only that, but the store is some kind of "insert derogatory term". Be it prep, or nigger, or coon, or kyke or wop--or... I mean... okay... I think you just justified his watching you in the store.

I mean--just looking at how differently I handle these people working in the stores in comparison to these two... no fvcking wonder they get watched and I generally get along with the people.

Okay, my tips for not getting bitched out by people--and getting extra in stores.

TIP THE WORKER

Typically, even if the service is lousy, if it is an option, give the person a tip of some kind. Even after the first tip, you will notice the service going up quite a bit. As the service goes up, increase how much you tip.

The beautiful thing is--people working at these places generally keep track of who tips the best. Generally giving them better service than the people that do not tip.

Heck, I have ordered a Pizza that was suppose to take fourty five minutes to get to my place, but because I was known to be the kind to tip, I got it in 25 minutes. I of course gave him a better tip--as he pretty much got there in half the time I expected.

The person in the store or restaurant is a person.

Treat them as such. Chat them up. Ask them about what kind of day it has been so far. Treat them nicely--if possible. If you do not have something you should, or you move too slowly, apologise. Thank them. Be polite. More and all, even if it is some fifteen year old working at a till in a McDonald's, they are still a person--and deserve your respect.

If they are irritated, just assume it has been a bad day, and they have had to deal with fvckwads for customers for most of it. Be nice to them, apologise--generally state wishes that there day gets better.

Heck, defend them from other bitchy customers. You will usually be able to spot which ones are generally just whiners. Since you are also a customer, call the other customer on it. As generally these people bitching and moaning tend to make things go slower. Very rarely do they have a legitimate excuse and typically it was there own mess that they are blaming the worker on.

For example, one person, taking a cab, parked the cab, outside a restaurant, then went in--ordered his stuff. Then starts complaining because the people in the drive thru got a higher priority in getting the food. Generally complaining about how his required payment on his cab, that he went into the restaurant for, is going way to far up--because the drive thru had higher priority.

Ask the worker for their recommendations

The person working there has it as their job to be near this stuff all day long. Ask what they'd recommend today. If you are having issues getting a third item on the menu, or some in store item they'd recommend--just ask them about that stuff. Typically you must be ready to buy this stuff too.

Do not talk to the store worker, unless you are certain you can make a purchase.

Yeah, this appears to be something that should be obvious. If you do not have the money to buy something, do not go up to the counter and ask where all the fancy crap is. I mean, okay, I have not worked much for retail jobs (none really), but even I can understand that this would be something that a retail store owner would get so bloody damned annoyed over.

I mean, I really do not get why robotic store attendants are not so popular. I mean, apparently people just like being asses to teenagers and old people working at these places.

Fvcking Birthdays >.>'

Bloody hell--I am off with a friend who keeps insisting on window shopping with him for his birthday. Not something I really want to do. As I see the situation as, "I am not likely to be able to afford most of this he is wanting. Neither can his girlfriend... and definitely not him"

Me, and his girlfriend are the only one with an income. He manages to drag us out--and into a few stores. Picking up every such thing on the shelves... and asking the people at the till if they have a copy of the games he wants.

Okay--clearly he is very excited. He turns 26 at the end of July.

Meanwhile, I am just groaning. He is acting like he has all sorts of stuff coming his bloody way. Where the hell is this coming from?

He keeps talking about all this stuff that is coming in. I am just smiling and nodding. Because if I tell him, not to count on this stuff, he is going to get all defensive about how these are sure things. Even though, after nearly every bloody one of them, he says, "maybe he can get me this--perhaps that. I can pull some strings."

Okay--you know what? How the hell does he even think he can even get a decent birthday?

Then--it hit me. The last decent party, that I had people show up and I had fun, that I have ever had, was when I was eight years old.

Every time after that--nobody really ever showed up. Mind you, my birthday IS on Labour Day weekend. Or all that I could get managed was just some crapping sit in at a restaurant I could go to anyways.

For a little while, I tried bolstering interest, by talking about it a few months prior.

I have just kind of came to terms, that my birthday is just another fvcking day. I mean,there have been times that I have been reminding my mom for a month prior--then she comes up when it is nearly Octobre, telling me that she forgot.

I have had to share my birthday a few times with my brother who was born on the twentieth... over four years and two weeks after mine.

Then--every now and again, I will get my mom bothering me about what I want... on something that has became pretty much just another day. Why the hell would I expect to get something special on a Sunday? Why the hell is my birthday any different?

But no, and then she does the sad but irritated act like, "people do not know what to get you."

I have kind of just stopped saying anything  about this day--because you know what? It is obvious nobody cares. Pretty much every birthday party since I was eight has been the most sorriest flop of an excuse I have ever seen.

Which okay--maybe everybody else's birthday's suck? Or at least that is how I understand it.

Seeing as how I am never really ever invited to them.

I mean, I do have a few friends... but it is always, "oh, I get you just fine--but none of my other friends would really get it. There would be drama and--"

"--I am just your dirty little secret. You are ashamed to know me."

"No, no--I think you are wonderful it is just my friends would not get you."

When I have pretty much learned that formula completely--and this is not a person I am getting sex from... or really see that interested in having sex--it kind of makes me just put this sort of stuff in the corner of my mind of Schroedinger's cat.

Schroedinger's Fvcking Sweet Kick Ass Party.

It both exists--and does not exist. Trying to see if it does exist changes the situation you are trying to measure.

What is there to get? I am a psychotic bitch. Okay yes--I get that... how do others not get it?

Then we have ass hat here, going on about how he is going to get all of this. Get all of that. I am just standing there, going "really--you really think your birthday is going to be all that and a bag of potato chips."

Then, I realised--it probably is.


You know--I really doubt i am going to be dating anybody soon. So many bloody self esteem issues, self image issues and all that to really work out. Yet, people keep saying, "you need to get laid."

Fvck--not going to happen any time soon--not with a person as damaged as I am. There are better people to hook up with.

Just smile and nod--just smile and nod.

Well, now to post more pictures of myself, in hopes that somebody has the good sense not to bullshit me, and tell me how fugly I am.