People SUCK!

       What the actual hell is happening? People trying to poop in our driveway, or lighting intentional fires. That's bad enough. But turns out I can't rely on anyone, not even for a simple favor on Facebook. All I wanted from her was to compare our experiences in the same group and she didn't even have to click on anything, just think for a moment: Am I able make a post? Or do we both have to answer their questions every time before my comments are approved, which they never were?

      Seriously, I've answered their questions 20 times and nothing I've said has been published. What is everybody else doing right? Why is nobody on the entire planet acknowledging me, except the one guy I don't want acknowledging me since he commented on my boobs?

      Let's see. I won't mention names here, but I count...give me a moment...five important people who ghosted me after letting me think we were friends, my dad who walked out on us shortly after I was born, and a bevy of people who I just hung around because, well, we were kids and it was easier back then. Even losing them hurt. I had some good memories with those kids; learning how to play Tarzan, playing with the stray cats, playing Marco Polo in a pitch-black bedroom because I couldn't swim.

      It's always been me picking up the phone. Never them. They say they'll meet me downtown, stand me up. Say they'll come to my birthday party, stand me up. Tell me they'll never stand me up and fucking stand me up. I'm a nice person, so why do they keep doing this? Is it my face? The slump of my shoulders? My height perhaps! Or is it them―all of them―everyone else―every time? Never me, not me at all? Do all people suck, or am I just encountering all the sucky ones?

      It may be glaringly obvious that I'm single again. For about a year now, and I still feel like I've lost a limb. I didn't do anything wrong, I know that. My actions were just fine. He didn't want to say good-night, I sat in a rock-hard chair on my hemorrhoids for 24 hours straight talking to him. He said he wanted a month of space and I gave him ten. Ten! At which point I got dumped for missing him and wanting to talk more. Whatever. Ass. I got so tired of my family calling me a pushover.

      I gave him space when he wanted it. Gave him friendship when he needed it. Loved him. Still do, because I'm an idiot! I feel shattered. Burned. I actually blocked him. Not because I wanted to, but because I didn't want to keep looking at his name. Seeing it every day broke me all over again. The stupid part is, getting rid of his name didn't make me feel any better. Of course, maybe that's because of how many people there are with the same name in Chicago Med! Like they know, and want me to suffer for watching it.

     A lot of people have hit on me online over the years. For 29 years, I mastered pushing them away and feeling no grief. Then for this guy I let my guard down. Bam! Ended up feeling what I swore I never would. What am I supposed to do now―start all over again? I have the sneaky suspicion pushing people away will be harder now.

      I was such an idiot. Should have pushed him away, too.

    Here I am fretting over the wallet I lost because of the pictures inside. And why? It's just a picture of my dad, who didn't want me, and a childhood friend, who doesn't want me. Said we would talk "later that day." Here we are...eight years later. She moved, didn't tell me. Wouldn't even look at me when I attended the birthday party of the sister I didn't know she had. I ended up ducking out without saying goodbye. To think I got all dressed up. Those pictures should mean as little to me as I meant to them. I should rip them up and throw out the pieces. But no. Stupidly I want to turn my room upside-down and find the little bit of those people I'm left with.

      All I can do is sit here and be jealous of their ability to escape whatever's wrong with me. And applaud their refined taste.

More Dreams

       I had an interesting "nap" earlier―and by nap, I mean finally getting to sleep around noon. Whatever, I got some sleep. Doesn't matter when it happens, as long as it happens.

      It was about...celebrities! Ta-da. Actually, a whole mess of celebrities; specifically, the cast of Lucifer. And my stepfather, if his poorly-written, completely unedited, one-review book published in 2006 makes him a celebrity. There we were, in this gigantic room filled with all the demons. I'm trying to enjoy myself, and along comes my stepdad to ruin it like always. I look at him and tell him, "All these demons... Happier than you."

      It was nice. They were all dancing and laughing. My subconscious probably drummed up a cheerful after-party, instead of the one Ella botched. Well, she and Rory, not that I can actually blame either one. Hah!

      Much better than what else I dreamt during my "nap;" about an old, frail-looking man who was actually immortal. Cops were stor-ming the place, kids were being taken, and bullets were just bouncing off this little man's chest. Compared to the stuff I usually dream―not a nightmare! But still, an old, bearded man. Really? Couldn't he at least have...concealed stuff?

     Ah. Anyway. Binged some more Chicago Med when it let me. Stopped after a riveting episode where Ethan is nearly dead from cyanide poisoning after, stupidly, tackling an assailant with a can. The toxin floods the entire department, Charles and Natalie are stuck in the elevator with a pregnant woman. He peers past the elevator doors, recognizes they're in the old NICU, so he rips these fucking steel doors open like it's nothing. He's a big guy, so it doesn't look stupid. Takes a phony phone call when he can't get a signal to help Natalie give an emergency C-section―which apparently she's never done as a pediatric physician? Hello?

      Natalie goes to thank the doctor Charles pretended to call, finds out she was never in conference with him, and starts shouting at him. He barely reacts, showing her the mother playing with her newborn. I mean, what was he supposed to do? "Uh, sorry, ladies. We're stuck down here with no signal, so go ahead and panic. It won't accomplish anything, but...gosh. I don't see a choice."

    Every episode lately, they're yelling at the guy. Kind of un-professional, and that doesn't make anyone a better person. Not to mention he's the best one, so kindly lay off. 😏

      Oh, damn. I keep putting aside the new Walking Dead for Chi-cago. I mean, Walking Dead sucks now, but I suppose I owe it to the series to watch the two episodes that are left. Meanwhile season 9 episode 8 of CM is on its merry way, not to mention it's connected to Chicago Fire and Chicago PD! It's so weird seeing Chloe Decker and Robert Chase fighting fires. Actually I started with Med, because it's doctors... I don't actually know if they share one scene, but appar-ently she does not appear in Chicago Med. Kinda bummed about that. They killed her off, so she probably never will. Anyway, not gonna lie, it's, bleh, weird! Every time Casey talks, I have to tell myself, "It's his twin, he's identical. He never was a doctor, he never married Cameron, he never wore a doctor's coat or cut someone open; it's not Robert Chase."

     Doesn't do any good, I mean... But he's Australian. Keep the accent! You want an American? Hire one, come on. Let him be an Aussie. 😛

Dreambabble

     I recently had a dream where my family and I rolled up our pantlegs and waded into this lake, and it was so cold it was like it was cutting through my bones.
      A more recent dream was when I was in this cafeteria-type place with a couple of my aunts, of whom I don't think I've ever dreamt before, and true to my real self, I want chicken in my dream. I get up to the counter and I place an order for chicken strips, or at least I try to. The guy behind the counter doesn't know what I mean. After repeating myself several times over, I say, "Do you know what chicken is? Because I'll have that."

    Takes my order, no problem, but I'm apologizing to him for my rudeness wondering if he'll spit in my food. He's laughing, though.

     I love dreaming of celebrities. It's happened a lot. House, The Big Bang Theory, The Walking Dead, Fresh Prince, even animated movies combining with games I play. Or it's all original but I am a cartoon. It's so weird when that happens. But yeah, in my dreams, I say things that I wouldn't in real life; kind of makes me wonder if I'm actually rude, deep down.

      Thank goodness for filters. 🤷🏼‍♀️

!!!

       Another episode, another House similarity. A female patient who is discovered to have a split personality with her younger self because of trauma. I think this one sort of trumps digging up a dead cat... which I'm still not ruling out.

I Really Hate Titles

       Still binging on Chicago Med. I think I'm going to see it all the way through, even though it's getting on my nerves a little...and I'm not even talking about the episode I just saw called Lock It Down where the hospital was locked down because of a missing baby...just like House. Actually I think I saw two more House characters, too.

      But yeah, it is getting annoying. Used to be the characters would all mingle. Now they pass each other in the hallway talking to the same character they always talk to. Daniel and Sarah, Natalie and Will, Connor and Ava, Ethan and April, Maggie and Sharon. Some-times, sometimes, Sharon will talk to Dan. Even less frequently Connor talks to Will. But I can't remember when last April talked to Sharon, or Natalie talked to Sarah, or Ava talked to, well, anybody else. Several episodes back Ethan and Natalie were called onto the same scene, but apart from that, they've basically gone their sep-arate ways. Sarah talks to Daniel about exposure therapy and her dad. Connor and Ava alternate constantly between fighting and flirting. Sharon is always telling Maggie that she's in trouble...

      I'm just waiting for a girls' night. Maybe Sharon goes out with Connor for crying out loud. Maybe Natalie asks how April's doing with her TB already! I've compared Daniel to James Wilson, who always acts as House's conscience. When did Wilson talk to Hadley, or Taub, or Kutner? He barely even speaks to Cameron. I recall two times; when she thought she needed to look for another job, and when she was getting ready for her date with House. But Chicago Med is a medical show, too...so how about a differential? Natalie and Will have a heated argument, and Sharon has the whole staff gather to discuss. Or they're talking about Maggie's actions. Something, any-thing, that makes them, I don't know, converse. Can't they just say hi to each other? Nod at each other in the hallway? They're passing each other all the time... Freaking look at each other.

      Still, superior to Nurse Jackie―what isn't?―and so far I think I could give it 8/10 stars. I'll see it all the way through and, maybe, even watch it again. Hell, I'd consider buying it, if I had money. I'm comfortable with the cast and I'm even fond of some of them. I was watching it on the TV for awhile because my headphones were dying. Now the TV is being replaced and I have new headphones, which work great...but the sound cuts out from them, too, so I don't know what the fuck's going on.

      And as an update, shortly after the leaky pipes in the bathroom were fixed, the tap exploded. Then a stove element wouldn't shut off. My family's decided not to even tell the landlord, we'll just call the handyman and pay for it ourselves so that shit actually gets done around here. I'm good with that. Really, I'm just waiting for the toilet to come out of the wall.

...

      "The crazy guy out front who thinks he's Jesus." Seriously? Another similarity between Nurse Jackie and Chicago Med―and I counted two patients from Chicago who were also House patients. I mean, granted, they are all medical dramas...how unique could they be? All these places, all these people. Only a couple handfuls of situations we can be in. Characters have even played the same song on the same instrument.
      And nobody sane thinks he's Jesus. Shocker; that's why they're on meds. What next, somebody's going to throw a bottle and hit this guy, too? No dead cats yet, but I'm kind of waiting for it. If I wrote a book about a guy with huge metal claws who got in a car accident and ended up falling for a telekinetic redhead, you think I could get rich?

      I'm just glad these doctors and nurses aren't addicts. Although one of the doctors did just discover she has a serious disease, so there's that. But at least April was blindsided, instead of knowing she was at risk and just trying to hide. I liked Thirteen and I liked her rationalization on the matter; but if they were both trying to hide and pretend, it would be completely crazy.

      I've got another episode queued up, and maybe I'll watch the latest episode of The Ones Who Live, too. I slept earlier and it's still so early that I can squeeze it in and still get some....uh, "sleep." Really just a metaphor for "lying there reluctant to face life while spiraling into a horrifying mess of personal shit."

      It's pithier. 😆

A New Something New

      Now that I'm done with Nurse Jackie (woohoo!!) I'm trying to find something else to fixate on―which is weird, because I have a Friends marathon going. It's an episode I'm not particularly fond of, and instead of skipping it or just getting it over with, it's like I'm trying to watch everything else in the world. Then I tell myself I'll watch it tonight, tomorrow. Doesn't happen. It's been so long I'm contem-plating just...quitting.

      So now I've started watching Chicago Med. There's already a Zoey in it, along with a bunch of House similarities I've gleaned just from watching clips on YouTube and seeing them on the list―like the supermodel who wasn't all female, the locked-in syndrome, a gunman in the hospital, a child molester, a doctor fighting for his life, a doctor committing suicide, a doctor performing self-surgery, a patient thinking he's in a simulation, a patient with extreme altruism as a symptom... If they have to dig up a dead cat, I'm quitting.

      Which reminds me, there was actually a patient in Nurse Jackie named Jules. I liked her, although her introduction was bizarre. After entering the hospital screaming that she had been shot, the doctors decide, "She's not shot...she's just pregnant." Turns out she wasn't, she just had tumors. I liked when she told the doctors what their names were. You could finally see an emotion other than anger on her face.

    I just wrote a huge block of text, clicked Publish, and got auto-matically logged out. Lost it all. I don't feel like rewriting it. Anyway, there's a new leak in the house; we can hear squishing when we walk down the hall and the floor's all bubbled up. As part of his endeavor to fix it, the repairman cut a huge hole into my brother's bedroom wall and now he can see into the bathroom, can you believe that? I thought the hole in my wall was bad, and I couldn't see outside at all.

      I feel like there are no good handymen. Wondering if there are good landlords, too. I hope so.