My new found thought

I really hate it here, my place of employment.  I hate it's location.   I hate it's existence,  I hate about 7 people here.   I hate myself for allowing it to happen.   I hate it's elevation,  I hate it's mission.   I hate coming here.   I hate leaving here because I hate having to decompress to come back here.   I hate what it did to my soul. Funny I can leave at any time and work somewhere else.  I want to sleep 8nterest an exciting city but never venture outside. 

infected

CTB-LOCKER HAS GOT ME and my internet security is preventing downloading anything.
arrrrrr well have to get that worn on t\y screen removed

trying to post

I haven't had much luck writing from the bed .  My laptop is located on the bed. Much  has happened .  to keep me to post but never quite get around to it it's kind of strange trying to write something out laying down and I really don't have a way to do it's typing up I'm at work email to myself and paste onto the water whatever the app on the phone we'll see how it works with the spoken word. This will need much edit apparently i have a stammering problem.

Ambivalence and self-loathing in the southwest I

I haven’t posted in a while. The Ideas come to me at opportune moments in the sense I have an “ah Ha “moment and I rush to pen and paper; fade away before I can.  A moral failure of pastoral proportions, it is not unusall.  I am approaching 26 years at a job I really don’t like but I have liked many of the people that have come and gone since I started.  I can keep to myself, but I deliver goods and services with a dour expression that most find funny, but those who don’t are vocal. I also pay invoices. Hardly what I started to do, but fear of everything keeps me from pursuing other jobs.  I have a civil service job.  I am seen as a parasite on the tax payer.

I can’t blame anyone. It’s my own fault.  I often made comments many felt inappropriate.  I tried to instigate debate, purely for the sake of humor, and they wanted to do their job.  I had a few chats with supervisors, but I never said anything that would get me in trouble. The office chose to not promote me.  Looking back I think they tried to warn me, but full of self-importance I ignored them. I used to wonder if it was because I was a fat man, or a major disappointment.

I was competent at my job, but I really never liked it.  I did the minimum required in critical areas, and it was easier to leave me where I was at than to pursue moving me elsewhere for 20 years.  In an ironic way, almost all who had a problem with my attitude, left for greener pastures and excelled.  They worked hard, made things better, but were not “appreciated”.  The ones who didn’t leave were demoted, kept their pay, but moved to a smaller office where they consumed much excrement till they had enough time to retire.

I have enough service time, but made life decisions that drove me to move back home, and borrow against my pension to erase credit card debt.  It will take 4 years to pay off.  I will then max out my retirement package, 5 years short of qualifying for SSI.  Depressing eh?

As this is Musings of a fat man, perhaps I should state the current state of my immenseness, 5 years ago, (or is it 6) I was pushing 290.  I had a difference of opinion with a new supervisor; I was cast out of finance into a labor driven job with a taste of finance.   Got down to 250 through minimal effort and cutting out sugar.

I joined a fitness club, and tried my best but I had no idea what I was doing.  There was a contest to see who could lose the most weight.  I signed up with a trainer and spent almost 400.00.  Lost 20 pounds, unfortunately this happened before the first weigh in.  At the end of the contest I was down to 221.  Went down to barely getting into a XL, and a XXl looks too big on me.

I Haven’t done much since.   

Ambivalence and self-loathing in the southwest I

I haven't posted in a while. The Ideas come to me at opportune moments in the sense I have an "ah Ha "moment and I rush to pen and paper; fade away before I can. A moral failure of pastoral proportions, it is not unusual. I am approaching 26 years at a job I really don't like but I have liked many of the people that have come and gone since I started. I can keep to myself, but I deliver goods and services with a dour expression that most find funny, but those who don't are vocal. I also pay invoices. Hardly what I started to do, but fear of everything keeps me from pursuing other jobs. I have a civil service job. I am seen as a parasite on the tax payer.

I can't blame anyone. It's my own fault. I often made comments many felt inappropriate. I tried to instigate debate, purely for the sake of humor, and they wanted to do their job. I had a few chats with supervisors, but I never said anything that would get me in trouble. The office chose to not promote me. Looking back I think they tried to warn me, but full of self-importance I ignored them. I used to wonder if it was because I was a fat man, or a major disappointment.

I was competent at my job, but I really never liked it. I did the minimum required in critical areas, and it was easier to leave me where I was at than to pursue moving me elsewhere for 20 years. In an ironic way, almost all who had a problem with my attitude, left for greener pastures and excelled. They worked hard, made things better, but were not "appreciated". The ones who didn't leave were demoted, kept their pay, but moved to a smaller office where they consumed much excrement till they had enough time to retire.

I have enough service time, but made life decisions that drove me to move back home, and borrow against my pension to erase credit card debt. It will take 4 years to pay off. I will then max out my retirement package, 5 years short of qualifying for SSI. Depressing eh?

As this is Musings of a fat man, perhaps I should state the current state of my immenseness, 5 years ago, (or is it 6) I was pushing 290. I had a difference of opinion with a new supervisor; I was cast out of finance into a labor driven job with a taste of finance. Got down to 250 through minimal effort and cutting out sugar.

I joined a fitness club, and tried my best but I had no idea what I was doing. There was a contest to see who could lose the most weight. I signed up with a trainer and spent almost 400.00. Lost 20 pounds, unfortunately this happened before the first weigh in. At the end of the contest I was down to 221. Went down to barely getting into a XL, and a XXl looks too big on me.

I Haven't done much since.

Coming soon

Twenty Five years

 

I can now retire from my civil service job, can’t afford to retire, and I’m still a tub of goo, if I do 30 years I get a very generous package.

Swam to day stress from confrontation yesterday concerning ethics, angry woman, CYA policy and triple digit weather.  

ct scan and feeling old

CT scan to see why I have so much glue, follow up eye exam to see why I have pits, final trainer session to get more advice I will ignore

still anger

much has happened

ANGER-an assignment

This is my first homework assignment on anger I retyped it and my answers are in bold as though I am responding to the author The Challenge of Anger Copyright 1999-2004 by Lynn D. Johnson. Reproduction permitted. Contact ljohnson@solution.consulting.com Perhaps anger is a practical joke that Mother Nature has played on the human race. In a primitive society, anger helps us survive. We can fight off aggressors or drive away bears or lions from our flocks with the energy that anger gives us. But in a civilized society, anger generally backfires and causes much trouble. {Anger in primitive society was essential, and I would say it is still essential, I still have a fight or flee reaction in dealing with people. Fleeing is likely walking away or moving on with a dismissive look or comment, and the fighting hasn’t been physical Since I was a kid, it has been verbal and not necessarily screaming, although screaming is well used to convey displeasure and works quite well with strangers. In a fight or flee situation screaming “get away from me” may be over kill when dealing with strangers asking for money because “they are out of gas” but after saying no a few times yelling brings atttention and whether it is a pan handler or someone else being difficult it is very effective because it takes the situation to the observation of others. This doesn’t no work with coworkers or a customer service representative at a store because there are policies against this kind of thing and you look like an ass because there is no imminent danger. In this case anger does backfire and will cause trouble at work because there are policies and even a moderate volume discussion makes you the bad guy, even if you are in the right. This is the main point; anger is triggered when I believe I am in the right. The world must know I am in the Right! No matter is too trivial, too insignificant. Civility demands it, they must know I am right, the flip side of the coin is and a great quote used probably by Khufu advisor who told him “You have to choose your battles” and repeated by nearly everyone who either told me I crossed the line or overthought the situation. But often the battle chose me. I try to keep an aloof demeanor. If I cold I would wear head phones and listen to pod cast, jazz, metal, etc. But people like to stop me and ask a question, and don’t like it when I request an E-mail. Some do not like this, they think I am being an ass or a anal retentive nonhuman. I get the E-mail and it is very brief and I try to comply, but if I tell them I cannot do it or they need paperwork. Well then it is on. Their return e-mail usually contains threats of going to my boss, and so on and so on. It is not enough I have policy to stand on, if I don’t get the apology I feel it is necessary to remind them about procedures, and they were wrong. Who are they to treat me in that manner? They are human beings trying to get something with the least resistance so they can get some brownie points that could lead to a promotion or a better job. They want to move on and if it takes a few short cuts, it is nothing to them. I wish I could keep that in mind. Making them look, feel, or act stupid adds nothing to the task at hand. I just wish they would follow their own beliefs when the tables are turned. I can’t let it go when they don’t show the same consideration. I don’t feel good to be the “bigger person”} The reason for this is very simple. When we are angry we are less intelligent. The part of our brain that directs anger is called the “reptile brain”. It gives us the energy to fight our enemies. We react primitively and instinctively. The higher brain is quiet on the sidelines. We lose our ability to think clearly and intelligently. And in a modern society, thinking clear is vital. While anger helped our ancestors survive, today it makes it very hard for us to flourish and profit. I suggest that we can challenger anger. We can set our goal to be more calm, intelligent, and effective. We can decide to not let anger control us. {This is curious because I can accept the notion I am less intelligent, I don’t know if I am operating at my higher or lower functions. If I win the argument (I don’t get in physical confrontations for obvious reasons) but if it is a pyrrhic victory; does this make me less intelligent. The ends may not justify the means, but backing off and look foolish in my eyes, let alone others (pity may show empathy, but it hurts to be on the receiving end). If I stay intelligent and don’t let irrationally take over, but I come out lesser and lose, do I really stay the better person. Once again “choose your battles” comes into play. Effective anger can be profitable, clear thinking sounds fishy to me. To be at a higher state of mind may be the desired, and this may be “clear” thinking. But anyone telling me they have steps to clear thinking, makes me take a half step back, likely it is because self-help groups, or religious groups tell me they have the way or the light to a clear head kind of freaks me out. It may be my experience with 12 step groups or the weird stuff you hear about scientology. Most successful people got there by picking their battles, making allies, defeating weaker opponents, and I’m not talking playing dirty, they played the game on an open field and used every advantage to their success. Ask the ones they stepped on, and it John Q honestly says the better man one, then John Q was operating at a higher level and the people he bypassed have a good feeling about him because he played “fair” But. If I am truly thinking clear, if I am at the higher level, if I am calm, does this increase my intelligence, or does it give the illusion of intelligence, does a calm demeanor convey greatness, intelligence, leadership. Does the anger really go away or can it be misdirected, taken apart, reassembled, and repackaged to give the air of calmness. If I believe I am in control of my thoughts, rational, feelings, i.e. anger, doesn’t this lead to a false sense of authority, pride, even look down on the poor souls? Is this a form of reverse anger. What is the optimal point that I want to achieve? (I have to confess I am unfamiliar with the term Reptilian brain. I googled it a read a bit and I would like to know the derivation of the term. I have not studied reptiles but I’ve never heard of an angry reptile, it would seem something hissing at me would be defending it territory or hungry) } Reflect on the usefulness of anger Recognize that while anger is a natural part of our selves, it is also generally not helpful. If you wish to live a more calm intelligent and effective life, start here. Think thoughtfully and deeply about how effective anger is in your life. How is it working so far? {It doesn’t work out well at all. People who care told me that I need to talk to someone and consider meds. The “self” I think I project to others is loved by those who know me. Being honest with myself, I want to project confidence, being cool, approachable with questions, and in the flip side if I need a favor I am granted the favor with a select few. However most are afraid to ask me for items because I was charged with saving $$ in the past and I did so diligently. I am willing to work with others but If I am treated like my area is a Wal-Mart where they ask and I serve with a smile, then there is a problem. I always fell back on policy, but the current regime has no priority, whereas the prior was anal retentive. Anger and a scowl also keeps people away from me, I may be conveying a bad message, but it could be the extra 100 lbs which keeps women from smiling at me, I never figured this out, even if I thought a smile from a lady as I passes was an invitation to ask for a number. If the lady was horrified, she could easily outrun me and laugh hideously as she would mock me over her shoulder. } You can see from reflecting on that when we use anger we generally get nowhere. We might yell and storm at family members and they temporally change. But soon they go right back to doing what they did before. So we yell and storm some more, which temporally helps. But when you look at the whole picture, you can see that being chronically angry does nothing to help create better situations. It just drives the problems under ground. And they do pop up again, don’t they? {But does no yelling do anything? If there is a cycle of frustration and yelling, then aren’t we actors in a macabre play? Chronically angry isn’t good for anyone, and I don’t know anyone chronically angry. Even Chronically angry people enjoy a good meal. This doesn’t address the occasional outburst or “Flip” comment. I can’t be disciplined for “flip” comments, but I can for Rage anger} Road Rage What about anger with people outside of the family, such as those who drive in irresponsive ways? Aren’t you justified in becoming angry with these people? After all, aren’t’ they a menace to safe driving? Actually if you take a broad view, you will see that challenging a dangerous driver is just creating more danger. As we said, people are less intelligent when angry. They do irrational things. They act impulsively. Do you really want the bad driver in the other car acting more irrationally and impulsively? Well, that is what you get when you try to correct their behavior. They get angry and therefore they are dumb and don’t learn from what you are doing. {I don’t honk, people here carry guns, and carry them proudly, I don’t flip off, I don’t stare, if I cut someone off and I know it I give an acknowledgement of fault. If someone is honking and gesturing I shrug my shoulder. } So getting angry with people in traffic is actually a problem of excessive optimism on your part. You really believe it will help them to be mad at them, but when you take a broader view, you can see that anger didn’t work. What is the real result of anger? Our challenge is to look at whether anger really helps. The comic Richard Pryer once set himself on fire while using drugs. He later said “I jumped up and I was on fire! And I ran out of the house on fire! And I learned something from that. I learned that when you are on fire, running down the street people get out of your way” Could looking at anger like that help you? Could you see an advantage to thinking that all anger does is to get people to jump back away from you, but it really doesn’t help. It doesn’t really change anything for the better? People you don’t know generally learn nothing of value from your anger. People you are close to simply learn that all they need to be fearful of you. Since fear and love cannot happen at the same time, anger is robbing you of the love that we all want and need. {I accept this, but I maintain anger cannot be eliminated completely. How do you stay in a higher power without looking down on people, how do you maintain a calm demeanor without going ballistic when a referee blows a call against the Lobos. I’ve seen this, I’ve known people who I never saw got mad and were calm, laughed at stress, let insults roll off their shoulder. But get a softball game going and the umpire calls them out. “Boom” The Lobos lose a close game “Boom” their day is ruined. I think we all need some avenue for frustration. I don’t get angry if I miss a light or someone makes a mistake. It’s part of life, ironic because the people telling me I’ve gone to far are the same one who ask why I didn’t get mad at a perceived slight. Sports have become a standard for much anger, and a unite-r. We can rally around the flag and have a deep dislike for someone who doesn’t cheer for the same color uniforms} A New View of Anger Why not look at anger as a bad habit that grabbed you and has been interfering with your happiness and satisfaction ever since? Suppose you think about habits generally. Don’t we all have some good ones and some bad ones? If you simply see anger as a habit that is inefficient you may feel some freedom from it. {It is hard for me to let go, I suppose that by hanging on to my anger I have control, or the illusion of control. If I get a lot of grief from a line supervisor I let it go to a certain extent, if they have lost control of their anger and become “less intelligent”, I let them know, I have talked to them like children, they didn’t like it but pushing it further would involve more people and in government jobs non one (except me) wants to involve the higher ups. It becomes a stalemate which means “they” win. That makes me unhappy and resentful. I don’t see the freedom aspect from letting them win, walking over me, getting the best of me. Sort of not eating a bag of candy, my inner self mocks me and I give in and consume the bag.} Many times, just looking at something in a new way is healthy. Please try out this idea about anger that it really doesn’t help. Try thinking of it as simply a habit. And see if you feel more free and healthy from that idea. I have tried it in the week and I guess it reinforces the old “choose your battles carefully”

update

I have started seeing a councilor I have completed my ist homework assignment will post soon

Agnostic Ash Wednesday Chub Club

Agnostic Ash Wednesday Chub Club

Another Lenten season is upon me. I haven’t been a strict Catholic since I was a young lad, and I attend once a year, usually the Easter Vigil mass. Something about the ritual of Catholicism keeps me from venturing towards another church. The rules are pretty much the same, the “thou shall not’s” are similar. I don’t like being around people so I’m not active in anything really. I don’t really have a hard core belief, I believe in an afterlife, but I look back and see what I was taught and I laugh at my naiveté. I don’t laugh, outwardly at least, at adults who believe in the doctrine I believed when I was 13.

Christmas would seem the most logical time to embrace or question faith. I suppose it is the shopping for sales, or the perfect gift, or filling out cards with comments that are non secular but express warm greetings. The birth of the Son of God by a virgin, who will grow up to die a horrible death for sins of a chubby Hispanic that will not occur for 2000 years does stretch the limit of imagination.
It is Fat Tuesday, the day before Ash Wednesday. If you live in a fun area it is doubtful you are at work. You would be on a parade route catching beads with your children or grandchildren and trying not to get caught by your old lady looking at women baring their all for some beads. Sounds like fun.

I sit in my disheveled office working on paperwork and hoping no one bugs me. This is my goal every day, to not get annoyed by somebody. This has a sister companion thought, I must bug whomever bugs me. I don’t get bugged by the performance of my normal duties. I am bugged by the entitlement that some feel.

An example: Yesterday was a federal holiday, but not a state holiday. President’s Day is celebrated the day after thanksgiving. 5:00 on the dot one of the needy persons came down and wanted something posted and certified from our mail room, our Bureau Chief and I explained that the mail room closed at 3:00 and no one is available. In a snide manner (which showed the extent of her face lift) she said “None of you know how to do it?”, normally I would go ½ ballistic and use my mental thesaurus to explain in careful details that a reasonable person would keep track of their duties to the point, if they needed something special they would give a heads up.

However, A mental mule gave me a kick to the head, and I said “Even if we could, the Post Office is closed today and no mail is going out”, dejectedly we walked away and said out loud “What am I supposed to tell them”, to which I told the BC “Tell them to do their job and be prepared”

Moving on

The DA turns 50 this week and she has been crying and is depressed because her sisters get special presents on momentous birthdays, and she gets very little. I try to explain that her behavior dictates the present. Her sister got a trip to Alaska for her her 50th, the DA gets 50 bucks.

The DA has been deemed Mentally incompetent to stand trial, but she has been arrested 4 times for crossing a parking lot and a cop saw her and shoplifting which almost got me in trouble because the Cop was bored and I don’t like cops, ( I was doing laundry and didn’t know what the DA was doing until a cop came). So the DA is acting like she has a get out of Jail free card, but she doesn’t like to wait, so it costs 50.00 to bal her out, and the cops don’t seem to care they are wasting her time

Actual fat man musings:

Lent starts tomorrow, as I have mentioned, I believe but I don’t really want to explain or become inconvenienced. I like ritual. I like the ashes aspect, or the thinking behind it. I haven’t tried to give up something for lent in a very long time. I had a thought a few days ago to form a weight loss group during Lent for “Lost Catholics”. It would be the Agnostic Ash Wednesday Chub Club. A club for people wanting to quit some vice, smokes, booze, etc, and we would work towards losing weight, with the idea that if one goal is reached, the others would fall in line.

There is a sinister idea behind the Agnostic Ash Wednesday Chub Club, but I haven’t formed it out fully

I weigh 242, smoke, booze on Fridays
Let’s see how I do dealing with the DA’s 50’th

Valentines day

I deliver ups/fedex in addition to the volumn of paperwork I do. I usually have someone else do it, but he has been attached to mail , and we recently lose someone who was detailed out because they didn't fit in. I had no problem with this person but they burned a lot of bridges and when spyin alligations came to light, there were trust issues

12-13 flowers or candy came in today and I got someone to help me cause very simply I'm really bad with names, I have a dour disposition, and I hate the look of ladies I pass as I wheel the cart of flowers past them.

A coworker who I have worked with 22 years and tried to emparrass me at every turn, said she doesn't like flowere anymore because she doesn't like dealing with the expected BJ later.

Part of getting old I guess

The terrorist Budget accountants vs me

Friday of a Holiday weekend

The weekend actually started on Friday morning. My boss and I had a meeting with the Budget Director and the Chief Information Technology Officer. (1) When we first met with the CITO he mentioned that nothing will change except the functions of the duplication center, shipping and close the stockroom. The stockroom would directly involve me, and I inquired into the reasoning (2), he caught my drift and nervously laughed and said “Don’t worry we’ll find plenty for you to do”.(3)

My boss jumped in before I started jumping ugly (4) and asked if he had seen the stockroom and everything in there. He agreed to make a quick visit and give me a chance to make my case. The visit went well he agreed to my recommendations, but said the stockroom would be a full service institution, and he issued a decree stating I would do ALL ordering. The decree was sent to all managers.

Two weeks ago I received a request for 2 dozen retractable pens, and I followed through with the order. I got two bids, took the lowest and sent it to budget. I heard nothing for two days, I asked the Administrative Assistant if she had heard anything, and she told me that the Budget section went ballistic at not having prior information. The requisition is on hold indefinitely, and she didn’t know why I wasn’t informed (5).

I was horse collared by the budget director in the hallway (6) and we had a brief discussion about accounting procedures, why she was not advised, and she was requesting a meeting with CITO, her boss, my boss and me. She wasn’t happy about the way things are done and in Accountant speak she indicated she didn’t like having a stockroom because the budget dollars are tied up in ASD and direct cost accounting should be used which is something I reminded her I had been asking for using the $10 million accounting system.

I spoke to my boss and we both agreed it is a fait accompli, she gets what she wants, and no one either has the balls to challenge her, they are dazzled by her looks (7), or they don’t have any idea what is going on and it is too small a matter to involve the higher ups.

By now you are saying, get to the meeting. Friday comes and we go and the budget director’s boss is not there, but a thin nervous man is there. I don’t know who he is but I notice the CITO did not sit at the head of the table which is curious since it is his meeting, and his meeting room.

The budget director shows up 10 minutes late, and during that time we chatted a bit and it was evident to me that she had already made her case and we were there as a courtesy. She outlined why she didn’t want me doing the supplies any more using the current cost allocations, why the budget dollars shouldn’t be tied up in ASD with a yearly reconciliation, and why her staff is too busy for more timely accounting entries.

I pointed out why from a economy of scales it is better from a fraud and waste standpoint, and I was interrupted repeatedly, she did apologize for it but she said her case is made and if there any other questions make them now because she has to go. I asked “So what happens to my duties (as if I didn’t know), the CITO laughs again and repeats “Don’t worry there is plenty for you to do” about accountability will reside with the managers, but he started stammering and stuttering rather badly. This is a “tell” that he is hiding something, and deviating from his prepared script.

The Budget Gal reassured me that I am a valuable asset and “You have skills”, I kind of lost my cool and said “that is what I was told when I was exiled to the basement”. No one said anything and she left. After she left I asked the CITO “So all this is about saving her staff work” and the nervous guy went into a soliloquy speaking to no one specifically stuttering so much I have no idea what he said.

My boss and I speak afterwards and we make note of recent decisions. We may lose the gal who does shots with the department secretary and the CITO. She isn’t an asset and will not be missed, the term employee hired to help me has had his duties used to cover the gal who does nothing, but they may not retain him. I’m two years from retirement and they won’t replace me in the stockroom.

There will more deliveries for me, waste and abuse from the Admn Assistants, and new opportunities for me. I’m not going to seek competitive bids anymore since they don’t care, and they don’t know that since I saw it coming I ordered enough for 6 months.

Should be interesting.







(1) We used to be under the Administration Services Division (ASD) until last month, a change that raised a lot of questions since our bureau runs the functional part of the building such as cars, maintenance, mail, and property control.
(2) The stockroom has been a target of closure for many years, other agencies have the individual operating units order their own supplies. There are reasons on either side. I’ve thought its better from a economy of scales to order for everyone and deliver as they use them. When each orders their own there is waste, and it is expensive to order in small quantities.
(3) Now isn’t that a fucked up thing to say to someone. That is a “tell”, a lie of omission. There is a plan and they are not ready to reveal.
(4) In a most polite non threatening way that would not emasculate him
(5) Kind of a retaliation, but Budget is queen of the May and they pretty much do what they want, I’m kind of petty with them and enjoy when they fill miffed.
(6) We used to be really tight years ago, I helped train her, we used to eat out lunch together, and it was initiated by her, because of her looks she was kind of shunned when she first started, and we got to know each other really well. She had a bad break up and was fixed up on a date, a guy she married and she changed everything about her appearance. She went from a very attractive lady, to a well bred society looking lady.
(7) It is a strange thing having good looking ladies for a friend, outsiders inquire if anything is going on, haters as why I’m with a phony, and they find an excuse to say howdy when I’m with her and flirt a bit

Am I that bad a writer?

A very close friend of mine has a very well written and thought out blog, one of his features is “people I know” and he featured my blog with respect of what it is like to live with a drug addict. He stated that he admires my leaving it all on the table and I should publish a book on the matter. He also cited a problem that I am familiar with. My “stream of consciousness” prose isn’t very user friendly. I tend to write in a blaze of glory, and use spell check only to ensure accuracy, not readability. I have very long sentences and have been chastised since I was 6 that while grammatically correct, it gives the reader an ice cream headache and my pov is lost.

Since I have problems with authority I rebelled, took the criticism as an attack on my beliefs and refused to yield.

I always wanted to be a writer, but since I was far too stubborn, I didn’t learn to work at my craft, my brain worked faster than I could hand write, and since this was before word processors, typing proved to be a impossible chore. I was weak, I gave up before I fired a shot.

As I approach retirement I wished I kept a log of my wars with authority, every slight, every block in my path. It also would have been helpful to have written even a paragraph a day during my 19 year journey with the DA.

So I will start writing about several things on my mind and return to my ‘musings’, and post only the abridged version, and work on the chapters of my masterpiece.

Only a few will read, if I reach the journey by faithful and diligent work, I will be the victor, or at least have a few stories to tell my fellow inmates at the asylum

Adventures of the DA

Suicide calls from the DA are much like a falling star, much excitement at first, but after many years of them they can be interesting, they lost their luster.
Yesterday when I went to pick up the DA she said she needed a ride to Crumb ____ the dealer who broke her window , she asked for the money I had for her public defender and bus ride and I declined and told her we have to go. She wasn’t dressed nice but I let it go, as we started she said she had to go to the dealer because she needed a hit before we left. I stopped the car and told her to get out, she started yelling and I got out of the car and screamed “get out of the car I am not taking you to buy crack, I am taking you to court” she refused and I pulled out the money and threw it in the yard, when she went to get it I locked the door and drove off .

She called and told me that she pleaded not guilty, and a court date was set and she faced 90 days. After work she called and said the police gave her a traffic ticket for something and she signed the guilty line and her fine was $57 but she had 30 days and would give me the money to write a check, (I’ll worry about that later).
She didn’t call back, so I called her this morning and she told me that she locked herself out of the house, and went in through the broken window she was supposed to have fixed, furthermore she was surprised she woke up. With a heavy sigh I took the bait and she was depressed she had no smokes, treats for the cat, no money, and no Klonopin. I told her I can help with everything but the cash and then she told me it didn’t matter because she wanted to kill herself, and that she took a bunch of Benadryl last night and was going to take more. She wanted me to mail a letter to her dad, and to take care of the cat, told her I wasn’t going to take any smokes or anything to a dead person and she again reiterated it didn’t matter and to take care of the cat.
I called an hour ago and she didn’t answer, but when she is at wits end and has Benadryl she often takes 5-6 and sleeps it off, and I will try every hour before I go home get the meds she wants (we have the same prescription, but mine is for restless leg syndrome) I suppose you may be wondering why I don’t rush over there but after 20 years, I know it is a ploy for cash, and tonight I dread going over there. My situation eats up every moment. If they had not changed the cat policy I would still be at my old place and when I was there I pretty much ignored her as she didn’t need me then. Her dad would take her 50.00 a day and buy her food with her food stamp card. I was out of the loop except for a request for a hamburger from McDonalds and the change from a Ten.
She answers and sounds morose but would like some cokes along with the other stuff. So I get the cokes, smokes, meds and……
A brief interlude

One banana, two banana, three banana, four
Four bananas make a bunch and so do many more.
Over hill and highway the banana buggies go
Coming on to bring you the Banana Splits show
Making up a mess of fun, Making up a mess of fun
Lots of fun for everyone
Tra la la, la la la la, tra la la, la la la la
Tra la la, la la la la, tra la la, la la la la

Four banana, three banana, two bananas, one
All bananas playing in the bright warm sun,
Flipping like a pancake, popping like a cork,
Fleagle, Bingo, Drooper and, Snork

Making up a mess of fun, Making up a mess of fun
Lots of fun for everyone

Tra la la, la la la la, tra la la, la la la la
Tra la la, la la la la, tra la la, la la la la

(background singer - La-----aaah!)

Two Banana, four banana, one banana, three
Swinging like a bunch of monkeys hanging from a tree
Hey there everybody won't you come along and see
How much like Banana Splits everyone can be

Making up a mess of fun, Making up a mess of fun
Lots of fun for everyone

Tra la la, la la la la, tra la la, la la la la
Tra la la, la la la la, tra la la, la la la la
Tra la la, la la la la, tra la la, la la la la

The DA got jumped, and the gal then jumped her accused her of disrespecting her house, ans she had a ring that left 3 stitches. But she got some Percocet, and that is always a plus.
Later the DA calls and says she almost got arrested because she was on he sidewalk in front of a hotel she has been banned from, she was cuffed and placed in the back of the squad car. They could not find the paperwork, so they let her go.
She praises God for watching over her, and I reminder her that I warned her that even if she stays on the sidewalk, the owner will call the police and she will be arrested. She kept saying “ I was on the sidewalk” and I kept saying “don’t matter” she screamed at me “you don’t care” and reminded she needs $2 and 5 packs of smokes by Tuesday.
Almost funny

letter to the DA

A letter to the DA
The DA may be near the end of the run, she has a court date for panhandling where she was told not to and picked up two more citations for going to the same place, what is unusual, is that none of the tickets were given by a cop, but were mailed. This tells me they are serious on getting her and she has to get a public defender. Her luck will probably get her off completely with probation involving drug testing, or she will get the 18 mos in the pokey


May 11, 2011
Dear DA
It appears that every week I get more concerned over your safety and freedom. Thursday May 5th I bought 92.00 worth of food. 10 Pizzas, 8 yogurts 3 hungry man TV dinners, 2 cases of cokes, crackers, candy, two loaves of bread, some lunchmeat and I can’t remember what else. Monday you said that you were almost out of Pizza and smokes, and while I understand the smokes, I do not understand the lack of food. Last night you called and said you have NO FOOD.
I simply cannot believe that you ate all that food and soda, I don’t know if you trade it directly for crack, or if you take it to a store and get credit you later sell for said crack. I cannot force you to eat and since it was your food stamp card, I suppose I should have no complaint, but I have to cover you for the next 3 ½ weeks, and I cannot afford to provide food and smokes while you piss your life away.
Every time I think you hit a new low you manage to surprise even me. Your call today first asking for 5 bucks and then getting mad at me because I didn’t leave 5 bucks this morning is unacceptable. Your demeaning behavior hurts me a great deal, and it is sucking the life out of me, I have been eating lots of fat and sugar and I am back to 245. I am not blaming you; It is my problem that I choose destructive behavior in response to your behavior.
You expressed surprise when you got another ticket and you are some illusion if you think you will not suffer some punishment, you have been on probation many times and if the judge looks at your record, they may tack on a UA. You have gotten two more criminal trespass tickets and I am really afraid the judge will make an example out of you, you can’t do a year in Jail, and your family might take matters into their own hands. You dad isn’t well enough to go to his Grandson’s graduation should mean something to you (unless he is coming but not telling you so he can relax and not have to deal with you, which should also mean something to you)
I still care for you deeply, and I feel your sense of hopelessness, I see the sadness in your eye when I drop off food or smoke, and you beg for money starting at $5 and going up to $20. I sense the desperation when you demand I drive the 4 miles to drop off $2 for a bus trip we both know is BS. You get really mad like 5 bucks isn’t much but it adds up, last month when you gave me 100 when it was 300 you really put me in a hole. I should have my new glasses now, and my debt to health care paid off. I’m entitled to have a little fun now and then, but I can’t, I can’t really afford it and I’m not in the mood. Fighting with you over money is really stressing me out, it must stress you out, but I promised to help with food and smokes. I’m not responsible for getting you started on Crack, and currently you don’t want to get better, you just want your next fix and you sell the drugs that are supposed to help you for more Crack. I dread tomorrow giving you a ride to court so you can fix the first item, I know you will want money, and I know you will insist I have a fortune and that 20 bucks isn’t that big a deal. IT IS
In the Laundromat Sunday you started crying and holding my hand, I wished I could make the world better, but I can’t take care of myself, and you are spinning out of control. I don’t want you in Jail, but I can’t let you ruin what little dignity I have left. I still care

Love
The fatman

What a revolting development

First the DA update:
We were supposed to do her laundry, and I agreed to pay for it, as all her cash goes to…, well you know. Some merchants complained to the police and got a restraining order to keep her from panhandling on her property. One merchant went a step further and obtained her mug shot and wrote a description of her panhandling activities and titled it JUST SAY NO TO XXXXXXXX. Naturally this upset her so much she went right back there and resumed asking for money and now she was mailed a ticket.

I called this morning to she if she was ready and she asked for the money instead and said she does not need to do laundry. So instead of getting mad I dropped off the money, smokes, and cokes and when she asked for more I high tailed it out of there. Her freedom is not for long, which causes me a problem with the cat as I don’t have enough to get a place of my own let alone one that takes cats.

With the morning free and the house empty I go to the senior citizen center to download some podcasts since wifi is free

Last nights dream, or rather this mornings dream. I’m in a new apartment, I smell the paint and I’m signing the lease. A knock at the door and a woman I’ve know for years comes in with a clip board and she says she is there to inspect the apartment. I notice the woman look pretty much as she looked when I first met her. I haven’t seen her in years, and I haven’t really thought of her since her and her husband moved away.

We exchange pleasantries and she goes around checking things. A small closet has been converted to an atrium and there is a single chair on a sand box surrounded by rocks and desert plants. She asks the nature of the room and I tell her it is a Zen torture chamber. She giggles and I ask her what she has been up to. She says “I’m still an exhibitionist” which was a point of contention with her husband 20+ years ago. She removes her shirt and I’m about to ask her something and she stops me and says “ don’t ask, I’ve grown” (you know what I was going to ask, and for the record I’ve never seen her naked, but she wore the minimum of clothing back in the day. Her husband used to invite me over for a beer but I declined when he warned me that XXXXXX usually walked around naked, it kind of seemed like a penthouse letter, and while I don’t need the grief he often carried a gun on his hip, which is enough to keep me away)
She removes the rest of her clothing and finishes inspecting the house, and we talk about old times and I try to ignore looking at her, I look away and she now has four breasts. My inner voice says “come on dude, four breasts?” and I wake up.

Pretty strange dream, wasn’t all that erotic, it was more matter of fact nakedness. Wonder what it means, get a new place, get a new life, spend time in a zen garden with a naked ex-hippie? Who knows?

Origin of easter eggs and Cousin Chuy's ramblings

I was watching Good Friday news coverage of the Penitentes in the Philippines, and it brought to mind Cousin Chuy who according to family lore used to be a member in good standing. He doesn’t speak about it much; I remember when my parents used to go to the Chapel in Lyden for the Good Friday procession,
(I once had the honor of holding the Crucifix leading the procession, I was about 8 and I wish I could say it was because of my Pious nature, but the kid originally selected didn’t seem interested, didn’t listen to the head Penitente, and someone spoke to my dad and I was selected).
I once pestered him about the Order, and he would always tell me that it is very secretive, I would never get in, if I did I wouldn’t like it, and they would not tolerate my long winded diatribes about the true nature of the Bible and my demands on who the final editor was,
(I want to know what he left out, assuming it is a he, cause women weren’t allowed to read, unless they had money or a title, but I still doubt a woman would be allowed to edit the final draft, unless she was a ghost writer).
He got tired of my questions, and he was out of beer, and he said he wasn’t in the order anymore, and he left the order because they have a lot of rules, and his travels were frowned upon. His recollections of his travels were outright banned, but he told me his stories and I hope to publish them some day.
Irregardless of his standing in the community, (he relocated long ago but has a small home near the river where the fish have a strange luminescence quality under a full moon) he relayed to me a story of the origin of Easter Eggs as told to him by a German Wiccan travel guide he met in a beer garden in Weimar. I don’t remember the whole story, and frankly I thought he made it up. I did a Google search and found something similar to the story he told. It is evident Cousin Chuy mixed in Greek and German mythology but I must admit it has been 40 years since his relegation.
The story of how Easter Eggs came to be as told by Cousin Chuy.
A long time ago, back when the old days were the news days, there was the chick that went by the name of Ostara and what was unique about her was she was a Goddess who bore a resemblance to Zeus, but there was never any parentage established. The other gods liked her well enough, but she was a bit aimless, liked to hang out with the animals, swim with the fishes, and loved wine.
This troubled the minor gods mainly Chaos and Chronos who may have been jealous of her looks, her carefree attitude about rules, she was always late, and she loved playing drinking games, especially pin the tail on Athena (although to be fair it wasn’t actually Athena but a rather crude mock up of her involving straw, honey, and a bear).
Zeus got tired of all the complaining so while playing craps with Hemera, (he was on an impressive winning streak), and he told her he would forgive the debt if she found something for her to do. Hemera had a rather novel idea of placing Ostara in charge of spring. Spring used to arrive pretty much at the whim of Zeus, and it was very confusing to the animals, plants, and particularly the astronomers who never knew when to start the calendar, and picked April 1st out of sheer spite.
Ostera was excited at the opportunity to have a job that involved one day of work and she excitedly prepared for her first job which she decided to call the Equinox because it sounded really funny and was hard to say after a few glasses of wine. Her cousin Dionysus was really bummed out at her getting the gig because 1) she was always drinking his wine, 2) Zeus let her get away with avoiding the rituals and she still got her allowance, and 3) Dionysus really hated astronomers when his application to have a month named after him was rejected, and he lavished them with much wine.
Dionysus caught Ostera in a particularly weak moment, (she had a short attention span) the day before the Equinox and he visited her with many jugs of wine. She tried to say no, but gave in and they had a grand time. She got very drunk and slept in the next day.
Ostera awoke to the angry chatter of the animals who came out of hibernation, birds who were cold and hungry, and the laughter of the gods who didn’t like her who believed that Zeus would cut her off.
Ostera immediately waved her cape called to the gods to begin the spring and the earth warmed, the buds appeared on the trees and the animals went about their business. Dionysus laughed the hardest and mocked her. Inconsolable, Ostera walked into the fields and was horrified to find a bird that was trying to get off the ground, but could not as his wings were frozen solid and useless. Sobbing, she attracted the attention of Artemis who took pity on her and she said she would help her build new wings for the bird.
Ostera excitedly crafted new wings of such extraordinary color and beauty, she felt compelled to cover the rest of him in beautiful colors. The bird overjoyed at flying and his new appearance, flew over the countryside displaying his new appearance, and had many fans that believing he to be a new god made many offerings and begged favors of him. The bird not knowing any better bragged to the other birds that they must treat him as a god and do his bidding.
Naturally this angered the gods, and Ostera was bummed out as well and she approached the bird to give him some advice to mellow out a bit. The bird refused. He believed himself to be a god and wanted his place known to all.
The angry Ostera having no choice waved her cape and the bird was transformed into a hideous mangy hare. Seeing his appearance in a stream the hare cried for mercy as people have no use for an ugly mangy animal except as food. Ostera gave him the gift of speed and sharp claws so he could dig the earth and burrow himself under the protection of a den.
The hare still in shock asked once again for mercy, for his new lot in life was more then he could bear. Ostera having a soft spot in her heart and knowing it was her mistake that started the whole mess granted the hare one favor.
“For all of time you must hide your hideous appearance from man, you must use your speed to flee from his arrows, you must live in the earth for safety. However once a year you will regain your beautiful feathers, and you will be allowed to lay eggs of the most wondrous colors and sizes, and you will lay these eggs in the fields where the children will delight in finding them, and they will sing the praises of the magical hare who lays the most desirable eggs.”
Satisfied the hare hopped off into the forest. Ostera never had any problems with him again, but did make the acquaintance of a particularly obnoxious groundhog that was not searching for the miracle of life, but was obsessed with renting out his shadow.
I apologize for the rambling length, but Cousin Chuy can be a bit long winded.

Tragedy and the grammer police

There has been tragedy in the family. A beloved cousin a few years older died suddenly while mowing his lawn. Death is the natural order of things. My cousin is one of those people who were a pleasant encounter. He was embarking on a spiritual journey that would have brought his family much joy and pride. He would have made a fine deacon. He was loved, he is missed.

I am far too devastated to speak of memories of him, and the sudden passing is of a nature makes me think “why” and simultaneously “make the best of every moment”







Early Saturday morning I was reading a blog that places a comic strip, and questions its effectiveness, vulgarity, and if it makes sense. He strip was about a father explaining the manner in which a new roll of toilet paper is used to replace the old one and not use a towel, a common family problem. Someone commented that they were under the impression that the kid was supposed to be bright. My Comment below:


I work for a state agency and until a few years ago we has a summer youth program where youths 16-22 were hired to do light office work and make connections, I’ve been there 20 years and for the first 15 years mostly HS students were hired who had some kind of connection to someone who worked there, every summer it cost more time to keep an eye on them as they were supposed to be honor students but they acted like they had the IQ of a tomato, it never really bothered me because it was my first job after college but I had to shake my head a few times, when the youth turned the internship program into a 10 week spring break fun fest, the agency only hired college students, and as for myself while I never used a towel my dad lectured me on the importance of not leaving him “stranded”



Someone who uses the nom de plume of Proginoskes replied:

DrDAN … They’ve invented these things called “periods”. They break a long sequence of words into readable chunks. You should try it some day.



The next comment was a little in my defense but did bring back a memory of my youth, He goes by Igelino; I think they have traded barbs in the past.

Progi, I thought only girls had those. DrDan uses commas, thankfully, so he must be a boy. We were required to read respected literaturists way back when, and they weren’t called run-on sentences, but rather stream of consciousness. Hee hee.



Way back in the 70’s when I was a very unhappy but precocious 7th grader, I was introduced to the concept of each subject had not only a different teacher, but a different classroom, very bizarre. I , (and all the 7th graders had to dodge the 9th graders who took delight is scaring the hell out of the 7th graders, I remember getting pushed around, but a friend who sold weed (and gave the persona of being Psycho) put out the word. The time structure wasn’t called ‘Sessions” or “classes” but was called “periods” and it said so right on the class schedule. For example
McKinley Class Schedule
1st Period- Subjective Interpretation of the English Language
2nt Period- Area studies of enslaved 3rd world countries
3rd Period- Math you never think you will need until trying to read a bus schedule
4th Period- P.E. or humiliation by future S&M Bondage bottoms
5th Period-Indoctrination of the American Way, morning session Liberal, Afternoon session Kill all Commies

So you be walking the hallways checking out the 8th and 9th grade babes, avoiding the Jocks and speed freaks, run into someone you know and asking them what are they doing after 3rd period and they would say every single time “I don’t have periods only girls have periods” funny the first 100 times but for two years I heard it every single day in the hallways and I think I even heard it a few times in HS.

I was away from the PC for a few hours, (about 12) and I saw what the Proginoskes wrote and out of curiosity I googled his name and as it turns out it is a unseen character similar to a dragon or Seraph with many wings and eyes in a book entitled “A Wind in the Door”. I have never heard of it, but it seems like a book like Naira or the ring books. Proginoskes could also be a female, on the shy side of 21 studying intently for her collage boards and full of venom for poor sentence structure, I probably should have looked up what her user name is and I might have taken a different approach. The anger in the post made me think of a retired English professor or HS teacher who in their spare time wails away at sentence problems. I didn’t think there were grammar problems, and for some reason I write long sentences. I did a spelling and Grammar check on word, admittedly it is a poor substitute for writing professionally. A contribution to a blog shouldn’t count, but every English teacher I’ve had said “no excuse for bad writing”, “spelling always counts”, and I don’t care if it is in the dictionary Mr. DrDAN you can’t use it in polite society.

Irregardless below is my retort (and if you are about to say irregardless is not a word I offer the below)

Irregardless is an informal term commonly used in place of regardless or irrespective, which has caused controversy since it first appeared in the early twentieth century. Most dictionaries list it as "nonstandard" or "incorrect". Irregardless originated in dialectal American speech in the early 20th century. Its fairly widespread use in speech called it to the attention of usage commentators as early as 1927. The most frequently repeated remark about it is that “there is no such word.” There is such a word, however. It is still used primarily in speech, although it can be found from time to time in edited prose. Its reputation has not risen over the years, and it is still a long way from general acceptance.
Thanks to Miriam Webster

Proginoskes
You are not the first, nor will you be the last to make that suggestion, (I received critical praise in red ink from a holier than though English Grad student “teaching” 101 in college and he was less than amused when I asked if I could use exclamation points, but I digress) and I probably would have made the same comment Igelino made if I had checked back sooner, but it would have be in a very long sentence of pointless chunks of words whose sequences would have run into each other ad nauseam; I’ve heard of people who experience seizures when there are flashing lights on television, however I must admit I’ve never heard of a perceived excess usage of commas, or lack of menstrual cycles in sentence structure causing them; I will take your advise with a grain of salt (or sand as it is used in limited areas of the southwest), and refrain from hoping you be subjugated to endless donations from the “save the sentence” foundation!

Because I assumed it was a very young male or old male I had a 500 word essay in my head that would have been fun to write, and if I received a response I would have, and still might, it involves starting with the sentence “The boy walked his dog” and carrying it out to 500 words.

To all my friends who might come across this, and agree that my posting are hard to read through, I will try to be mindful.