Not Good!

       I'm kind of pissed right now. I live in this little apartment-like building, and there have only been two decent neighbors in the past decade. The first one took off a long time ago, and now the other one is leaving. And our slumlord has illegally allowed someone to move into the building, who wants her unit. This squatter has been talking to the other tenants, who want her to "break in and take it" because Neighbor is well within her rights to stay until October.

      Neighbor needs Lawyer, that's what she needs. The reason I'm pissed is because the other neighbors have no lives, so they're constantly poking their noses into ours. "How did you sleep last night? What did you buy today? Got any plans? What's for dinner? Have you lost weight?" That would be annoying enough, but I recently learned that they talk sh!t about us behind our backs, and now they're slandering us to Squatter, turning her against us before she's even a legal tenant.... It's so frustrating. They even have her convinced that one of the neighbors, Bob (I don't care about him enough to protect his privacy), is the property manager who oversees everything and gives orders to the rest of us.

      No, dear. The landlord is the property manager.

      They have her thinking my brother is useless, when he plows the driveway so well, everybody gives praise. Well, she'll see for herself when he's out there working his ass off and everybody she trusts are useless. That is, if he still does them the favor after how they've treated him; I say snow them in.

      I am so tired of douchebags like these. 2018 or whatever, Bob seemed like a decent human being. When we went to court fighting another neighbor, he was there. He was frustrated and fed up, too; now he's part of the problem and behaving just like him. I don't know if he drank too much and his last lonely brain cell drowned, but he changed.

      The neighbor that's moving away, they had her turned against us too, in the beginning. Then she regretted ever listening to them and started hanging around us, even showing me the respect of using my full name, the first person in history to be stubborn about granting my super simple wish. Didn't think much of her at first, and now she's someone we can wish was still here. I just hope it's not too late by the time Squatter realizes she has it all backwards.

      This is what happens when you fly blind. Even as I write this, more damn drama is happening. Why can't these so-called grownups shut up and just observe, and maybe learn something? It's fine to get a second opinion at the hospital; God forbid you do it anywhere else....

...

       I have to go to a birthday dinner tomorrow. It'll be the first time I'm at a restaurant in months, and a fancy one with menus in over a decade. I'm really not looking forward to it; I wonder if I can stay home; unfortunately people have this weird inclination to celebrate being another year closer to death. Don't worry, I didn't put that on the card; although there are cards like that. Blame Hallmark.

     I hate this guy. I mean I really hate him. I also hate the miscon-ception that you can't hate someone without loving them. Makes no sense. Love is love, and hate is hate. You can hate someone you used to love. You can be angry at someone you still love. But you can't hate and love someone at the same time. You can't go from, "I wish you'd die" to "I still love you" in five seconds. It's just not possible, unless you're mentally unstable.

     And what's the deal with "Money can't buy happiness"? That person was clearly spoiled rotten; no bills to pay, no shelves to stock, Mommy and Daddy took care of everything. Sleep on the floor and share half a package of stale crackers and then tell me money can't buy happiness. Douche.

      I think people who come up with sayings need to stop playing philosopher and take some pills. Life isn't a poem, it's not a river, it's not a highway, not a bowl of cherries or a box of chocolates. It's a race to the finish line. Or, as Cain so eloquently said, it's an "eternal wasteland of meaningless existence. A dark void staring down at you like a beaten dog scrounging on the side of the road just waiting to get mowed down by the next tsunami of crap."

      Not Shakespeare, but eloquent all the more.

    F**k. I hate birthdays. Maybe if I didn't get a migraine on mine every year. Always punctuated, of course, by "Happy birthday to you," which oddly enough, sounds miserable. Lucifer, The Big Bang Theory. They all sound so...dead. Isn't it supposed to be a celebration? Instead it sounds like the song you hear as you walk to your empty grave. Seriously, Google it if you don't know the scenes. At least in Liar Liar, they sound alright; some people actually hit that high note.

      Life certainly seems like it was better 30+ years ago. I often hear these wild, crazy tales of when music and dance flooded the streets...

Weird

       I don't even know why I'm bothering coming back here. I'm not very active on any of my social medias, so I guess I just need a place to talk freely. I know nobody reads this, so it feels safe. Sure, a thread got (randomly, unjustifiably) censored, but that just means one person encountered my profile once since 2007. Anyway, anyone who can't handle free speech can go watch Teletubbies and leave the grownups alone.

      I don't have much of anything constructive to say. But I am thinking about something weird that happened earlier tonight. I went for a walk, and when I got home, my brother and I spoke. Then he stepped out of the room for a minute. Came back and said, "Oh, when did you get home?"

      I really thought he was bullshorting me, but no. He insisted he didn't remember at all.

      It's weird. It's worrying. I'm supposed to be the forgetful one; he's supposed to be the strong, damn near invincible one. Bouncing back from, I think seven (???), strokes. Coming back, and coming back, no matter what. Bad luck with his health, bad luck with people, and just coming back again and again. Not immortal, not invincible, but close to that.

      I know I'm forgettable, but it's weird to see someone so smart, someone who can remember being a baby, forget something so recent.

      Anyway. That's that. I'm going to talk about something else now; games. Not fun and games, but the absurd ones I came across in my local Wal-Mart. I'd share pictures or videos if I could, but you'll have to Google them yourself, if you're even reading. And dear children-at-heart, you may want to click away now.

      I went to Wal-Mart twice recently, with my mother. She wanted Yahtzee sheets, so into the games aisle we went. She didn't find them, the employee didn't find them, but something caught my eye; a game called Exploding Kittens. Yes, really, look it up. Now...as someone who lost her kitten when it was hiding in a T-shirt on laundry day, that's not funny. If I hadn't lost my kitten, guess what? Not funny.

      A few days later, we went back to Wal-Mart (I wouldn't have, but I worry about her being out in this craptown by herself, so I go to keep an eye on her). Back to the games aisle for her precious Yahtzee sheets, and again, no luck. But something else caught my eye. It was a big face in a box, with a vertical line where its mouth would be. Or what I thought was a line. As I got closer, I realized it was butt cheeks. The toy is called Chester Cheeks. Turns out when you interact with this toy, it farts! Well, I didn't know that, and really should have read the box. At least waited until all those people were gone.

      Well, that's about it, I guess. Thinking about forgetfulness and a stupid fascination with flatulence. Pardon the alliteration. I'm off... but not off my rocker, like certain toy companies.

Pretty Much Dead Already

       I guess I can relax for awhile. Made it to my appointment yesterday and spent 5 minutes in her office, so most of that whole adventure was being on hold with the taxi service. Fun, right? But I got to have the weirdest coincidence, twice. Before that, I was watching a Scrabble show on TV, and the first two contestants I see are named Dan and Roseanne. Then I start this whole attempt at finding work, and my case managers are Kelly and Darcy. It's like all my least favorite shows are coming to life.

      I also caught some episodes of Little House, and within a few seconds, there were a Henry and Eva (my aunt and uncle), and a Joe and Betty (my stepfather and mother). And a Mary of course (grandma). So that was interesting. Then I caught the episode where Mary goes to the blind school, and Adam tells her to unpack, and she finds the mirror. What the hell is a mirror doing in a blind person's room? That makes as much sense as a stereo in a deaf person's room.

      Well, anyway, my entire blog has been one pointless journal entry after another, and as Dr. Jenner says, "I bet there isn't a single son of bitch out there still listening." So I think I might as well quit, too. Wish I could say it's been fun. But who knows? Maybe I'll come back one day.

ALRIGHT!!

      I am so freaking excited. Finally, finally, I got back into my Avakin Life account. It's been 5 years because they wanted me to take these impossible steps, but they finally made it easy and they kept my account. I'm a level 41 again! I don't have to start over this time! Last I tried, I was a level 0, whoo, I was mad!
      But they actually improved everything. The graphics are better, I can zoom in again, there's even reflections and ripples in water that used to be dark and still. They removed all of the ads. And I'm fricken BACK, BABY! For the first time since 2021. I look forward to doing my Egypt adventure again.

      Hopefully this time they just leave it alone...

...

       Okay, so I just got back from applying for my first job. If I ever do that again, I'll try to remember to use a different computer; the one she assigned me to was nothing but trouble! I spent so long moving that slow cursor, I was surprised by how fast mine is! I keep missing my target, I have to get used to it again. If I had a computer that cooperated, I'd have been done two hours ago.

      I spent so long sitting there, doing nothing. The employee helping me kept alternating "my" desk and her own, answering the phone, talking to other employees, and asking how far along I was (in the application process). I hit a few trouble spots, but was able to sort them myself, until the very end. Then she tried helping me and even she, a worker, was getting frustrated by the equipment she relies on. Apparently it had never been so problematic before, so I guess I am special after all. But finally, after taking the damn thing out of air-plane mode and accidentally shutting the computer down, she fixed it somehow, allowing me to finally skip an unskippable part that wasn't working. And I finished.

      I am now awaiting an interview. I just hope she can forgive me if I have to do that all again! But she said my patience was "amazing." Not gonna lie, felt pretty good. I haven't received many compliments since my nurse said my blood pressure was "stellar," and it usually is sky-high. I guess being in a hospital surrounded by blood and vomit, death and disease, germs and tragedy really brought me peace.

      "That, by the way, was sarcasm! I in fact believe it is a big deal."

    Anyway, following that spectacle, we opened the door on a junkie's foot; then my ride bought surprise fast food to celebrate. It's so good. What is it about this killer concoction that's so delicious? All my problems can wait until the last bite.

      Shit, I still can't keep up with this cursor. Well, I'm off, and in five days' time I could join the working class, ladies and gents. We'll see!

YESSS!!! (3)

       Tomorrow I apply. Much as I want things to change, I do not want to take that long-ass drive. I get nauseated in the taxi before it's even out of the parking lot... Of course it's a big-ass parking lot.

      As expected, I am continuing to have doubts. I guess I want and fear change. I just wish I knew how flexible this whole thing was. You know, on a scale of elastic band to brick wall. Or even a stuntman, pushing himself to work through broken bones. If I want to back out, I want the freedom to back out. And I should, if it is just cleaning rooms or taking a desk job; it's not like I'm interviewing to cook meth or join the mafia.

      At least applying will be easy and local. Short drive, application process, less than an hour I think. But going to the resort... Hell, staying there for a month. I'm not sure. This may not be the furthest I'll have ever been from home, but the longest. As pathetically boring as my life is, it's safe. It's easy.

      I think my night will be spent researching this place and looking at photos. Hopefully for once, the pros will outweigh the cons.

      ETA: I was unintentionally misinformed. The job is not exclusive to a strange, cold place; I can work anywhere. I thought it was an opportunity to go to a resort, and I didn't inquire; she assumed I knew and didn't explain. But it's a regular job search that can still let me sleep in my own bed at night. Yay!