Really sick go back to bed now love my dog

I need something warm to drink then I’m going back to bed I’m going to hug Puzzle and cry some more.  I’m freezing.   A lot of people with this disorder die, and their families insist on “privacy.”  Well, fuck that.  I told my minister no “privacy” no matter what my family says.  If I die, it sure ain’t gonna be no freak heart attack.  There’s nothing wrong with my heart.  If I die, I hope it is blasted all over the damn city, all over the Boston Globe (does the Boston Globe still exist?) and all over the online papers and everywhere all over the damn planet.  It will help people to know what I have been through, what I have suffered with.  I want a damn autopsy, whatever it is.  So many people die of stomach rupture an nobody even knows it happens, no one even finds out.  They die in a fucking binge, they die in hell, and no one even knows.  The coroner says it’s a heart attack because the person isn’t given an autopsy.  Fuck.

Back before Karen Carpenter died, I was told I was given low priority because I had a minor disorder and schiz and bipolar were far more serious.  The psychiatrist cancelled the appointment I had with him and put me off seven times (this is in my book).  I guess he saw no money in it.  There is still no money being put into it.  Far more research is going into breast cancer, I guess.  Everyone loves you if you get breast cancer.  That’s the one I should get.  Then people would give me their phone number and beg me to call them and I could have a human conversation.  Imagine that.

 

Beep, beep, beep…I’m going to take action!

The squeaky wheel gets the grease, as they say.

So the Housing Authority’s maintenance department has been hard at work.  It took them since Hurricane Sandy, or the hurricane before that I think, I forget the name of it, to get the huge pile of branches out of the yard.  I think it was last Friday, the 3rd of May, that they finally cleaned up the mess.  And our fence has been crashed into for about a month and they have not fixed it.

However, they were hard at work, apparently, planting flowers over by the side door at the end of last week I believe.  These flowers will probably be stolen, rolled over, picked, or vandalized within a week.  Furthermore, I believe the maintenance department should have left it up to the residents to plant flowers.   I think it would have given the residents something to do besides watching TV all day playing it at triple volume, or pacing the halls with their walkers, or sitting in the front hall doing nothing but talking about the people who walk by.

Now this building needs more than flowers.  I mean badly.  The first thing that badly needs attending to that I have spoken of plenty of times before is the damn beeping.  I’m talking about the carbon monoxide detector batteries.  These are supposed to be replaced every six months.  If they are not replaced, the detector will “remind” the user by beeping about every 20 seconds or so, very loudly and obnoxiously.

The Housing Authority maintenance department never bothered to change these batteries.  I believe this is a state requirement.  I believe it’s been about a year now, possibly a year and a half, and they have been completely negligent.

The first time my detector went off, I had no clue what was going on.  I phoned 9-1-1, wondering if maybe there was some leakage or something in my apartment.  If I recall correctly, they came and disabled the detector, explaining that the batteries had gone dead.  Then I don’t recall what happened, but a bunch of detectors went off over that weekend, because the Housing Authority had not replaced the batteries as they should have.

The next time my own detector’s batteries did the beeping, I had batteries (I always keep a supply around) and replaced them myself.  I had to get on a ladder or step on something to reach the detector and get it off the wall.  A bunch of them on my floor went off all at once, too.  Most folks just let theirs beep and it was a nightmare listening to the sound of it.

Now imagine: a person with even mild OCD cannot tolerate the sound of a ticking clock.  I believe a person with learning disabilities also might have difficulties with sounds like these, or someone on the autism spectrum.  This beeping sound is far, far worse than a ticking clock.  In fact, it’s driving me crazy and I do not have OCD or fall into any of those above categories.

Currently, a detector is going off in apartment 214 or 215.  I can’t figure out which one.  It has been going off since I think sometime late Friday or early Saturday, I can’t recall.  The residents are all home, blasting their TV’s, and obviously not wearing their hearing aids.  Or just putting up with this noise.

Now folks, this noise is meant to wake the dead.  I can hear it out by the dumpster, which is at the far end of our parking lot.  In fact, I believe if the people across the street on Summer Street are sitting in their living room with the window open, they can hear this beeping.  If I am at the intersection of Summer and Forest I can hear this beeping.

I have complained to the Housing Authority several times about their neglect.  Guess what they told me:

They told me my hearing was “abnormal.”  They told me to purchase a TV (I do not own a TV) and blast it just like my neighbors do, so that I will not hear the beeping, or purchase a stereo and blast it.  Furthermore, they told me that if I phoned during off hours or weekends to complain about a detector going off in even in someone else’s apartment, I would be charged for “overtime” work just for making the call.

Folks, I went to an ear, nose, and throat doctor about three years ago for an inner ear thingy, and it wasn’t all that big a deal, looking back, but I had my  hearing tested twice, and I in fact have in writing the results of my hearing test.  There is nothing “abnormal” about my hearing.  I do not have supersonic hearing.  If I did, I’m sure this very nice doctor would have informed me.

So, tomorrow, Monday, I think I’m going to be a squeaky wheel.  I’m not sure exactly how I’m going to do this, but I will.  I might actually call Town Hall first, to find out where I’m supposed to go, but I will go where I am supposed to go and speak with someone in person and if I can.  Surely, someone on the Town Council should know that this is happening.

Maybe someone in the neighborhood has already complained about the constant beeping sound coming out of our building.

Of course, there is more.  Those maintenance guys must do nothing all day long, because nothing is being done here.  Our parking lot has needed to be re-paved since the day I moved in.  The kitchen floors are a disgrace as are the counter tops and cabinets.  I read all this on a state report.  I should take a photo of my toilet seat.  You would not believe it.  I’m scared to ask for a new one, for fear that they will give me something worse.

It’s been ten years….

I was thinking that yes, I did indeed go out to coffee with someone, last November I believe.  I joined a dating service because I clicked on it by accident and then said to myself, “Oh, what the heck, I guess I’ll do this for a month and then quit.”   And that’s what I did.

When you are bisexual, there’s this dilemma.  Dating services are horribly discriminatory.  First of all, a bunch of them only accept straight people.  So if you are female, you join this dating service and they assume that you are seeking someone male.  Then there are dating services that you join and you have to choose.  They ask you when you join if you are seeking men or women.  So basically, they are asking you if you are gay or straight.

You have to click on one or the other.  It’s like black and white.  Is life really like that?  Duh.  But computers are binary, or the little thingies in them are, to my knowledge.  I guess the little thingies in humans are probably binary as well, but we have far more little thingies in us than computers do.  Or at least that’s how I figure it.

But at any rate, back to dating services…when you are a woman seeking women, all the women see all the other women.  Honestly, I don’t like that, so I guess that’s why I clicked on “seeking men.”

I got a surprising number of responses.  Actually, I got a date right away.  I think within a day or two.  It lasted 20 minutes.  I am not kidding you.  Maybe 25.

We had a nice conversation.  I guess we talked about his trip to Europe or something.  Then he just walked out, leaving me sitting there with the damn coffee cups on the table.   He said he had to go home and do something.

Then, I guess I had another date, this one in a coffee shop, too.  It lasted longer than 20 minutes, thankfully.  However, he made it quite clear that I was wasting his time unless I was going to have sex with him, and furthermore, it had to be “good sex,” and on and on…talking about this in public, I thought, was not quite appropriate.  Out of the corner of my eye I saw someone, a woman, sort of giving us looks.  Possibly she was just looking at Puzzle and thinking, “Oh, what a cute dog.”  On the other hand, she may have been overhearing this guy’s obnoxious talk and thinking to herself, “Oh, geez, I feel sorry for that woman having to put up with this guy, bet she’s embarrassed out of her mind and can hardly wait to go home!”

Then there was another guy.  This one I thought was really nice.   Oh, at first.  I never met him because he lives out of state.  It was all over the phone.  We talked quite a bit.

When you like someone, and you are lonely, you lie to yourself so much, you make excuses to yourself and when you see things in the person you know you can’t live with, you pretend those things aren’t there or turn your back on those things…for a little while, anyway.  You tell yourself, “Maybe I didn’t see that.”  Or, “Maybe he was talking about his friends, not himself,” or something like that.

I think you guys know what I’m talking about.  Like those of you who have dated alcoholics or drug addicts.  Or those of you who have dated child abusers or compulsive shoplifters.  You deny.  You love the person and I guess you are lonely or something.  So something inside you pretends that the ugly piece isn’t there.

So that’s what happened with this guy.  I didn’t see it…and then, suddenly, it was clear as a bell to me.

He was a freaking really bad racist.  It hit me so suddenly during a phone conversation that I literally got physically ill.  No, if you’ve been following my blog a while you know my body isn’t really capable of vomiting.  But all of a sudden, I had really bad diarrhea, and I know this was a reaction to this guy’s ugly racism.  I just sort of had to end the conversation.  And the relationship.

As a rule, I don’t dump people.  I let him dump me.  I guess he heard my tone of voice at the end of the conversation, and knew something was up.  Well, yeah, I was kinda on my way to the toilet real fast.

And in reflection, I knew that this guy was bad news to begin with.  I figured he would have dumped me as soon as he found out I was bisexual, had I stayed with him.

*********

So anyway, that was my experience last November right after NaNo with the jerks.  So I was thinking about that very briefly today, thinking about being bisexual and thinking about the first time I told Joe I was bisexual.  When was this?  What year was it?  Goddamn….

I started crying thinking of it.  Joe did not judge me.  You know something?  He had no clue what bisexual meant when I first told him.  Really, you had to laugh.  But what he did was he asked questions, and listened.

Admittedly, some of the questions were a little silly.  Some were naive.  Some were ones that you’d really never think of asking.  Some were the ones you usually get if you are bisexual.

We talked and talked and talked. Always privately.  Sometimes, we’d be together or we’d be on the phone and he’d ask me if I found a particular woman attractive, or he’d ask me all  kinds of questions about women’s body parts.

He never once put me down, or told me anything was disgusting or anything like that.

Aw man I loved that guy so much.

He was my friend.

He died August 19, 2003.

No title to this entry

I didn’t want it titled cuz I didn’t want to draw attention….

But it really sucks having NO FRIENDS.

I mean, Facebook friends are only inside a browser window.  I hate FB because it’s such a popularity contest.  The only thing I do like about it is that I can occasionally get useful information off of FB that I otherwise wouldn’t get.  And I suppose it’s kind of a “people finder.”

Now, a few people claim they “love” me.  However, my phone never rings and I would say it’s been several years since I’ve been out to coffee with anyone.

I am extremely happy that I have a handful of e-mail friends.  They live in various places around the globe.

I am happy that my brother Ned called last night. He makes an effort at least.

I am extremely happy that my church is right down the street.  Often, my minister is in his office and no one is with him so he doesn’t mind if I drop by for a few minutes to say hello.  I guess it was last week I didn’t drop by the church or call for a bunch of days, so he e-mailed me to see if I was okay.  I was kind of surprised cuz really, time had gotten away with me…but I’ll get into this later.  Anyway, I was kinda surprised to see the e-mail.  It was like, wow, someone cares about me.

Often, I just feel like I’m a piece of crap folks just “put up with.”

See ya later, alligators.

Been sick

I’ve been sick ever since my stupid very loud mom was here.   She was here on the 24th.  I think the worst of it was last Monday the 29th,  and then Tuesday and Wednesday were sort of blanked out to me.  I think I slept those days away.   Thursday morning I went out and ran some errands, so I couldn’t have been feeling too bad.  I also went out tonight and picked up some stuff I needed.

I’ve canceled everything I possibly can cancel, lying when I’ve had to.  Like when my CBFS worker was supposed to show last Monday.  I said I had a doctor’s appointment.  I didn’t.  I guess I said I slammed my finger in the door.  Well, that’s true, and for a while I thought I might lose my fingernail, too, but it’s not something I’m going to the doctor for.  I’m expecting she might show up next Monday but I’m going to tell her I’m on my way to New Jersey to go to some writer thing with some friends.  Say what?  What friends?  Anyway, she’ll believe me.  I’ll say that cell phone coverage there is spotty, just to leave a message or something.  Then I won’t have to worry about CBFS for a while.  I also plan to cancel my appointment with Dr. P Wednesday, but forgot to do that today so I’ll do that Monday.  Then I can see her whenever.  I really don’t give a shit.

I was supposed to see that primary care doc at Boston Medical Center for a one-month follow-up visit, but I canceled that cuz I don’t want to see him anymore.  I also canceled the “orientation” session I had signed up for there for a therapist, since I decided I don’t really want a therapist.  So get this: today in the mail I found out someone scheduled me to see some psychiatrist over there on the 16th of May.  How annoying to have someone make an appointment that you don’t ask for and don’t want.  I had to call them and cancel the appointment.  Not sure what will happen with all that next.  I had been under the impression that they didn’t really want to deal with me, anyway.  Hopefully, now they will leave me alone.