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|Wednesday, February 19th, 2014|
Does anyone know how to transfer my LJ icons to Facebook?
|Sunday, December 1st, 2013|
My neighbor James is creepy. He's tried to come into my apartment a few times--without my permission. Once I overheard him saying he was going to sodomize a passer-by. I really don't like this guy.
Today, I was standing in my doorway talking to staff when they asked him to clean his room. He refused and started talking, and it was one of his infamous endless pointless monologues. He talked about how white people were being punished for their sins of enslaving black people and killing Native American people. Then he said that Natives had no body hair and that they were really black. Then he said the Holocaust was Jews killing other Jews and that Hitler was half Jewish. Then he talked about how white people raped minority men because they were gay and that God would punish them for that just like the Bible says.
My neighbor/semi-boyfriend and I looked at each other and shrugged. Staff tried to disengage from the discussion by telling him he made no sense, which caused him to insist he made perfect sense.
|Saturday, May 4th, 2013|
Having moderately bad back pain. It never did heal up right from that bus accident and my time at Richmond. Not much I can do but suffer in silence...
|Monday, April 22nd, 2013|
|Angry about West
I used to live in Waco, Texas, so I know West well. It's a friendly town with excellent Czech food, my favorite being the kolaches (sp?). Sadly, the facts coming out about the explosion don't surprise me. According to the AP, the plant had way more volatile stuff than it was allowed to have and it never notified DHS that it had explosive material. Since Texas is a good ol' boy state that doesn't place high priority on code enforcement, I'm not surprised.
That said, I hope to see some criminal charges come out of this. People didn't have to die and this didn't have to happen.
|Monday, April 1st, 2013|
|Drugs in the apartment complex
We had a meeting with staff today about life in this apartment complex. They're doing what they can about the roach infestation. But the major concern was drugs and alcohol.
Today, David announced that he'd tested four people, and they'd all tested positive for marijuana. One tested positive for cocaine. David also said he's smelled pot a few times here, and that on one occasion he thought he smelled crack. Not good.
He announced that if we were seen with a known dealer, we'd be automatically evicted. Since I don't do drugs, that's not a problem for me. However, if we get caught with alcohol in the building, we can be evicted--so I'm going to have to watch it. It's no longer three strikes you're out.
I can understand the drug policy, but not the alcohol policy. That said, I hope I can follow it. I'm doing my best to stay sober.
|Friday, March 29th, 2013|
|Excitement at the bus stop
Some people just seem to attract chaos, and I'm their queen.
I was recently at an IndyGo stop when a woman yelled out "Plead the blood of Jesus! Woo!" I gave her a brief glance, convinced she was mentally ill, and went back to waiting for the bus. Suddenly, someone cried out, and I turned just in time to see her fall to the ground and start convulsing. I pushed my way through the crowd and knelt by her. I asked her if she were all right, fully expecting her to say it was the Holy Ghost, but she didn't respond. I knew then it was a medical emergency.
I told someone in the crowd to call 911 and report a bleeding woman having a seizure. She was bleeding from the mouth, and since mouths bleed a LOT, there was blood everywhere: on the snow, on the concrete, on her white gloves, you get the point. I kept her on her side and prayed as I tried to remember my first aid training, which was back in 1996. I also made a note to take some classes in medicine as this has happened more than once.
A woman then asked if we should try to remove the gum from her mouth. I said no; I'm fond of having all my fingers. The woman then asked if we should sit her upright, and I said no, not until we knew she hadn't injured her neck. There are few feelings in the world more helpless than waiting for the ambulance to arrive, so I was somewhat comforted when I heard the sirens. The EMTs pulled up, recognized the woman, said they get called on her all the time, and took over.
I told the EMTs what I'd seen, and then a man commented that she'd called the right person because Jesus was coming back. Only in Indy. Jesus may be coming back, but I'm still calling the paramedics in a situation like that. Around this time my bus arrived, so I left without seeing what happened. They probably took her to Wishard's ER for observation; she was really out of it when she stopped shaking.
I later talked to a woman who has been a nurse for thirty years. She said I did all the right things and that even nurses get jumpy after an experience like that. It meant a lot to hear that my anxiety was normal.
Never a dull moment on IndyGo!
|Thursday, February 14th, 2013|
|From your Valentine
How did I celebrate Valentine's Day, which reminds me of my single status? Got drunk off my ass. Better happily single than unhappily married. I don't mind being single; my life is my own.
Apartment staff have really been clamping down lately. First, they required us to carry a card with out diagnosis, medications and pyschiatrist's name. Now they're implementing weekly random drug testing. I feel like a prisoner.
Let me say right now that I don't do drugs. A urine test on me would simply prove that my kidneys are working. That said, I feel like I shouldn't have to pee in a cup to prove I'm clean. There's this little thing called "probable cause" that keeps bothering me...
If it's a supervised test, I'm going to raise ten types of hell. Maybe even call the ACLU.
But back to the cards. One guy called them "the mark of the beast". I don't like the rule. I'm still slightly self-conscious about my diagnosis, so I don't like a requirement marking me as a psych patient I understand why staff are requiring this rule, I just don't like it. I feel marked, that's the best word for it. It's one thing for me to divulge my health information; it's quite another to force me to carry it around with me.
Even people with life-threatening illnesses aren't required to carry around emergency cards. Why should we be treated any different?
I'd move if I could afford the rent anywhere else. But I kind of burned my bridges with Section 8, and I don't know what else is open. Just as well, since my check is handled by a payee.
|Sunday, December 9th, 2012|
I've been playing a lot of video games lately, usually Torn.com and the Assassin's Creed series.
Torn: Today I bought a laptop and a gas can, so now I can check my stocks when I'm not in Torn City (a moot point since I usually don't travel), and commit the crime of arson. I sold my remaining points for a few million dollars; I'm saving up for stocks. In addition, I raced in Class B, and am doing okay at it. My bazaar is doing well; I sold all my first-aid kits, my candy and my flowers. I also put some drugs up for sale. I'm thinking of buying property and upgrading it, then turning around and selling it for a profit. Just whatever way makes the money. That's my goal in Torn--to be rich.
Assassin's Creed Brotherhood: Finally rebuilt 100 percent of Rome--take that Borgia scum. Got all 10 feathers and most weapons. I'm on the second level of Thieves' Guild Quests and the second level of Courtesan Quests. I've got the maximum number of Assassin Recruits, although none of them have reached the rank of Assassin. I'm collecting the Borgia flags--I'm at about the halfway point on that--and going around getting treasure. I unlocked Brutus's armor--God I hated the shrines of Romulus! I also completed a couple of shop quests, which I loathe as much as the shrines.
On a side note, I like the historical aspect of the AC series. I'm learning a lot by reading about the buildings and other facts, and reading about the characters on Wikipedia. The Borgia family were some sick fucks, and I mean that in a literal sense. Lucrezia may have had an incesteous relationship with her brother, and in the series it's implied she was unnaturally close to her father and uncle. She also had an affair which may have resulted in pregnancy, which resulted in two papal bulls concerning the child's paternity: one claiming her brother Cesare as the father, one claiming the pope/her father was the father. The child was eventually recognized as her half-brother.
Who needs soap operas when you've got history? I couldn't write something that sick if I tried!
|Tuesday, November 6th, 2012|
|Depressed, no clue why
I'm really dragging today. I'm sad for some reason, but I don't know what the reason is. I just feel like crying.
I could use a stiff drink. But I quit drinking and would like to stay quit. So I don't know how to deal with this.
Used my journalism degree today. Short version: my friend Donna and I have a mutual friend who was arrested and taken to the Hamilton County Jail. Donna didn't know why, and I said I could find out, so she asked me to do so. So I logged on to the 'Net, Googled "Hamilton County Jail Inmate Search", and found out what bail was and what the charges were: public intoxication, resisting law enforcement, disorderly conduct, criminal mischief, total bail $5,000. The arestee's really in deep shit. Getting the info was easy, really, but not everyone knows how to do that. So that's what I'm for, I guess.
Public Records 101, basically. But it's always fun to do these checks. I've been in journalism way too long, I live for scandals and investigations.
|Friday, November 2nd, 2012|
|Kickin' back with a vanilla Coke
Title says it all. One Coca-Cola Classic, with an added shot of vanilla.
Won a race in Torn.com today. Upgraded my car with the resulting points. Now to win more and level up.
|Sunday, September 23rd, 2012|
Started having urges to self-harm earlier in the evening, and didn't have any Ativan to take to help with that. So I called the Midtown crisis line. I was on hold, then got a bad connection that finally started working. I talked to the crisis counselor for about half an hour, then hung up, feeling somewhat better.
The plan is to meet with my therapist in the morning, then go stay with my parents for a few days. Better than spending another birthday in the hospital!
I don't know what we'll do for dinner for my birthday. I'm leaning toward a Japanese steakhouse called Kazan or Outback Steakhouse.
Mom is pet-sitting a chihuahua named Sasha. Sasha is a sweet dog, but it's like having a shadow. Last time I was there, Sasha followed me around everywhere. If I sat down, she sat there and stared at me until I gave in, said "Oh, all right," and picked her up. She sat on my lap frequently and even slept in bed curled up next to me. She's a very people-oriented dog who has had a rough life. She's been over-bred and has a swollen teat as a result, she has few teeth left and she was found abandoned at a construction site (to whoever did that--YOU ARE A SCUMBAG!). She's not yappy unless she's confined, so we let her roam around the house. She generally hangs out with whichever human she happens to see at the time, although she seems to prefer Mom and me.
Got some work done on my book about civil disobedience in the Bible--unfortunately, it wasn't much. It's hard to get the chapters the right length, and since some of the passages are so brief, it's hard to say much. It'll be a miracle if I get that thing finished.
|Monday, September 3rd, 2012|
Sigh... another sleepless night. I hate it when I can't sleep.
I've been on a major taco kick recently. Taco Bell, Moe's Southwestern Grill and homemade tacos have fueled my digestive fires for the past few days. All that's missing is refried beans and a margarita. Mmm, margaritas...
I'm bored out of my skull and stuck at home. And with today being Labor Day, my check for this week will be a day late. That means no new money until Wednesday. Bummer.
I'd like to have enough money to drink and gamble, but life hasn't been that kind to me.
|Sunday, July 29th, 2012|
|Get me out of here
I am so freaking depressed it's not even funny.
Rene, the only real friend I have in this Reason-forsaken town, moved today.
At least I got to say goodbye.
But I really hate it here. I wish I could be in an academic town with an ample liquor budget and some like-minded friends.
But no, I'm stuck here, broke and alone.
|Wednesday, March 28th, 2012|
For some reason I've been fatigued a lot lately. Case in point: on Monday I slept until 5 in the afternoon. I was up briefly for a counseling appointment, and then--THUNK. I was out like a light.
I'm a little tired today, but I've got to perform in the play, so no more nappies. I need to stay awake. Hopefully the coffee will help.
|Saturday, February 25th, 2012|
I thought about registering for Survivor Sprint in June today. Survivor Sprint is a 5K race/obstacle course. Then I saw the fee--$55, but it goes up the closer it gets to the event. I also read the waiver, which released the sponsors from liability EVEN IN THE CASE OF NEGLIGENCE. On top of that, it doesn't even take place in Indy--I've never heard of the town that's hosting it. Anyway, the fee alone was enough to make me reconsider--I don't have that kind of money!--but the waiver sure didn't do much to encourage me either.
I know I need a challenge, but I'm not sure that's the one I need. In fact, running this thing sounds like a really bad idea. To quote Garfield, "You'd better stop trying to improve your health before you remove your health."
|Friday, February 24th, 2012|
|Heart rate high
I tried to donate blood yesterday, but my pulse was too high. It was 130--and yes, that was at rest. Must be the psych meds.
|Thursday, February 23rd, 2012|
|Saturday, February 18th, 2012|
|Today went better
I went to the church retreat today. It was good to get away from the apartment and spend some time with my church family. Good food, good conversation, good time.
I also practiced my sermon in the sanctuary. I'm excited about preaching it tomorrow. I'll admit to being a little nervous, but I think I'll do fine.
Went to the Indy Winter Farmers Market today. Bought some homemade deodorant, homemade hand sanitizer, homemade pasta, honey and Gold Rush apples. The deodorant works much better than the hospital-issued stuff I was using. Now to see how it stands up to my workout...
I'm tired, both from not sleeping well last night and walking to church today. Hopefully I'll sleep well tonight.
|Friday, February 17th, 2012|
|Mental note to self: fuck the world
I tried to go online to chat with a crisis counselor, and a Toshiba ad disabled the conversation. Hey, Toshiba, I've already bought your buggy computer! Cut it out!
When that didn't work, I called a national hotline. That hotline transferred me to a hotline here in Indy. I told the person who answered that I wasn't feeling well, but she said since I'm in counseling and working with a psychiatrist there wasn't much she could do. "I can't sing you a lullaby to help you sleep," she said.
Realizing I was dealing with an idiot, I agreed to her suggestion to call Tanya and Dr. Fretwell on Monday, saying "Sounds like a plan." When she asked if I felt the conversation had helped, I said no. She asked if there was anything else I wanted to talk about, and I said no. No sense wasting my breath. I got the usual "Call back if you need to", which clearly meant "Stop bothering me!"
I'm not sure if I'm mature enough not to gloat. I told Tanya that CIU would blow me off, and she disagreed, and it's tempting to say "I told you so." That said, I didn't expect the crisis and suicide hotline to blow me off. It makes me angry, but what can I do?
At least this call didn't end with the police showing up. Current Mood: distressed
|Thursday, February 16th, 2012|
|Good news, bad news
The play went well. Both of the therapists from my dual diagnosis group were there, and they told me today I did well and that they were proud of me. It made me feel good.
I told the CIU story in group. One member and I agreed--sometimes those crisis counselors just don't think. The crisis counselor told me that I shouldn't self-harm because I wouldn't be able to see my friends--seriously, wtf? She also acted like she didn't believe my story.
So when a concerned reader of the HealthyPlace.com gig contacted me today, I broke with my professionalism and opened up when I e-mailed her back (I'd already responded on the site with a more professional answer, so I didn't have to e-mail her--I wanted to). She thinks a program called REPAIR might help me break with my past. I researched it online--I think it looks good, but I want someone to go through it with me. That's what I pay the therapist and the psychiatrist for.
What's embarrassing is I don't have enough money in my bank account to pay for the book, and it's only $15 on Amazon. I hate being poor! But at least I spent the money on stuff that's good for me--a YMCA membership, for example--and not alcohol.
By the way, Chase Bank, fuck you for charging me $2 to check my balance at a non-chase ATM!