improperlyhuman: (Default)
2017-10-15 11:30 pm
Entry tags:

Angry with My Neighbor

Still washing clothes late at night. It's 11:30 PM and the washing machine has been going since 10:00. I just confronted her and she had the nerve to tell me that she puts in one load. That's a long ass washing cycle then. She also said that this is ok by the landlord! I will be giving him a call tomorrow.

So pissed I don't know what to do. Nowhere I can go to escape the endless NOISE. I am supposed to be working but I can't even concentrate right now. And I couldn't work until late yesterday because of some fishing festival with ALL DAY live music followed by fireworks.

I need to cut down on the amount of work I'm doing so I can devote time to finding a new apartment. Ain't no way in hell imma let this fool dictate when I can go to bed.

I want to kill my neighbor. All she cares about is saving money. She has hearing problems and probably has no idea how loud the washing machine is. And she does laundry insanely often.
improperlyhuman: (thinking)
2017-06-22 07:42 pm
Entry tags:

aint this some bullshit

I was so happy that I was the only passenger on the little shuttle out of town today. Gloriously quiet ride. I tried to get some snacks at the dollar store next to the transportation center before my connecting bus arrived because it was time to eat, but the store literally never has more than two cashiers working and literally always has a bunch of people with baskets full of shit in line, so I had to leave to avoid missing my bus.

I waited forever for the doctor again. He said that my swelling feet and ankles are caused by water retention (!). The results of my vitamin d3 test weren't available (it's been three weeks since I had blood drawn for that!). He said that I didn't look my "normal" happy self. This was the second time he'd ever seen me.

He said that I have two options: a sleep study or medication. Well the sleep study isn't going to help because I can't sleep in strange places. He said that he would try to wrangle it so that I could get a home sleep study. But in the meantime, medication. First he said the medication was for nerve problems or something, so I didn't understand what he was offering.

Then when I started complaining about side-effects, he told me that he was prescribing an SSRI! A goddamned anti-depressant! I kind of lost it a little bit. I told him this was crazy because I'm not depressed. But what else can I do? I can't live my life tired all the time. So I just said ok. I was despondent after I left. I couldn't decide whether I'd take the medication or not.

But I thought of something on my way home (which included missing the bus): I feel a little better now that I'm not exercising. As much as I want to exercise, I'm probably better off toning it down than taking Celexa for a month.

So I took the later bus back to where the shuttle picks up and tried to get some cereal from the dollar store next to the transportation center because I have leftover almond milk from the last time I gave in to buying my beloved Nutty Nuggets and I'm sick of eating the food I have and too tired to cook.

Once again, only two cashiers were available and the people in line ahead of me were unloading a bomb shelter's worth of food. so I put my two boxes of rice crispies on top of the soda machine, got out of line, and left, just as I'd put my back brush, pistachios, and pretzels on top of the soda machine and left four hours earlier.

ha! that motormouth guy who rides the shuttle back into town Thursday evenings didn't show up today despite the driver's waiting nearly a quarter of an hour extra for him. thank goodness! shit, my next appointment is also on a thursday. the rheumatologist only comes on thursdays. and it turned out that I would have had enough time to buy those two boxes of cereal, dammit.
improperlyhuman: (Default)
2017-06-07 10:48 pm

Shut up

You can always tell when whitey wrote a story, can't you? They always gotta mention hair and eye color. Sometimes more than once. I'm like, all your other stories are about white people; just let me have this one where you aren't shoving race in my face.

But no. For some reason we need to know that the main character is a brunette with piercing blue eyes. I'm like, shut up. All your characters have melanin deficiency so who cares how it manifests exactly.

Back in the good ol' days, fiction was about what people did and not what they looked like. Nowadays we got reality TV in book form. And worse. At least reality TV has plots.
improperlyhuman: icon says: Radical Feminism: Females First. Always. (females first)
2017-05-24 04:55 pm
Entry tags:

Blinding Anger

Once again, the mailperson did not deliver my package. Like always, I got the little notice to pick it up at the post office tomorrow despite my being home at the time of "attempted" delivery.

I wanted that package so goddamned badly today, my internal organs are shifting in tortured anticipation.

I went to the post office and complained about it. Wasn't until I arrived back home that I re-noticed the doorbell outside the apartment building. The doorbell that does not work. I think the mailperson has been trying to ring the doorbell, and I, of course don't hear it and don't respond. My neighbor, however, has put a note up on the door indicating that all deliverpersons should knock. I've yet to hear a knock.

I hate the slumlord who refuses to fix my heater and rented me an apartment with a non-functioning doorbell. He didn't even tell me that it didn't work. I hate this apartment so much! WHY are there humongous cockroaches in a residential neighborhood?? Why is it so hot here, right next to the damned water??

Lovely day. Woke up too early again. My head still hurts from crying at therapy today. Couldn't find any good novels to read at the library. As in apparently every other library, someone has decided to categorize fantasy with science fiction. What are they teaching these people at library school.

This Red Bull seems to weaken my appetite.

I feel a sickness and a hopelessness deep inside of me. Womyn are being kicked out of "women's" homeless and DV shelters because they complain about the men who are now legally allowed to stay there. How did this happen?

improperlyhuman: (Default)
2017-02-13 01:21 pm
Entry tags:

Dammit! Missed Package AGAIN

So pissed right now. ONCE AGAIN, UPS didn't deliver my package because the driver thought I wasn't home WHILE I WAS HOME. About 30 minutes after the delivery attempt, I tracked the package and found out that I'd just missed it! I didn't hear any knocking or anything. I NEED that protein powder, dammit.

This is just the 6 millionth perk of living in this shithole. I can never tell when anyone is at the door, although I get plenty of false alarms from the mysterious hammering I hear outside sometimes. I guess I'll ask the landlord to fix the doorbell, but it's been over a month and the heater still hasn't been fixed or replaced, so I won't be holding my breath. I'd rather be out of here before then.

All this because of that trash that burned down my apartment building. The screwup that keeps on giving.

While I was on the phone with UPS a few minutes ago, I got my foot caught in the mouse cord. My laptop (which has been sitting on my music stand) crashed to the floor. I thought I'd lost Debian! Living without a desk is really kind of a pain.
improperlyhuman: (Default)
2016-12-16 09:38 pm
Entry tags:

I Want It, I Want It!

I think I'm going to have to give up on radical politics as a preferred girlfriend trait. It is so hard; it is so important to me. But I see a path to getting over it...

Stupidly, I've just now come to really see that almost no one knows much about anti-civ, radical feminism, even anarchism, even among the vegan and environmentally conscious set.

I hate my life. I can never get what the hell I want, dammit.

What's worse is that there are so few butch lesbians :( Dealing with femininity conformity is worse than statist politics.

Finally went to the hardware store to get another plank of wood to squat on. All they have is two-by-fours and varnished shelves! I hate this town. It exists on the edge of the world. I got turned down for another apartment today.

Struggling to get my life together. Can't concentrate on work because I'm focused on making social connections right now. Finally unpacked most of my stuff, but now there are piles and piles of books all over the floor in both the bedroom and the living room to trip over. My sweet potatoes are molding! Still got two or three flies in here that I cannot get rid of.

Finally going to bed early. Hope to restart my early rising routine as of tomorrow morning.
improperlyhuman: (Default)
2016-11-29 07:12 pm

Mankind Can Die In A Fire and Everybody Needs to Shut Up.

My new Internet service provider completely skipped my installation appointment today, so I still don't have reliable Internet access. The next available appointment wasn't until Friday, which is grocery shopping day, so I had to settle for next Monday, nearly a week from now! The shitty customer service I've so far received bodes poorly.

I found a way out of town, but it goes in the wrong direction, and I didn't have time to explore it because I had to be home in time for the installation appointment that never happened. I'll have to lug my bike up a flight of steps to get to the path.

I am depressed.

My neighbor has visitors all the damned time, and I can hear nearly everything they are doing from my living room, including yelling at grandkids, singing to the dog, booming up the steps, and talking while the T.V. is playing. I tried to escape by moving into the kitchen and could hear from there as well (and I can't get a good wi-fi signal in there)!

The landlord stopped by with some Borax and some sort of natural flea treatment (in case the Borax doesn't work) and asked me whether everything else was ok. Of course I couldn't remember to mention the neighbor's noise because I can never think during a damned conversation! He asked me how I was doing and I stood there staring at him like a moron because I didn't recognize that he'd asked me a question. Actually, I didn't stare, I looked back and forth between his gut and his face because I couldn't look at his face the whole time. Weirdo, that's me.

And what good would that have done anyhow?? I don't know that they are terribly loud; it seems that the walls are just thin.

I have to get out of here ASAP. I just moved in and I already have trouble sleeping at night and getting up in the morning.

I did have time to explore the single bike path in town. Bordered by the road and a rusting, barbed wire fence, it is nothing but an unmarked strip of concrete featuring raised cracks every three or four feet. I doubt that it's even half a mile long.

I called the GI Bill hotline and found out that I'm not eligible for any more educational benefits.

The veteran's service officer who payed my deposit still hasn't gotten back to me about helping me with furniture, which I would like to take care of ASAP so that I can pick up the furniture and get my stuff out of storage on the same day and not have to pay for two different moving trucks on two different days! I couldn't bear being on the phone this afternoon, so I tried to e-mail her before the end of business hours...and that's when the wi-fi went out.

And I couldn't save the e-mail as a draft. So I saved it as a "File," not knowing what that entailed, so that I could reboot the computer (after which the wi-fi inexplicably worked again, but it was already after 5 pm at that point). Then I had to remove all the formatting from the e-mail, which had been saved as an HTML file. What sense it makes to save an e-mail as HTML, I've no idea.

Some idiot used the word "mankind" to refer to all humans. AGAIN. That is irritating even under good circumstances, but I just couldn't deal today. Piece of shit, I hope you die, you and mankind. I don't even care if that sounds horrible; I have no more patience. It's 2016, anyone who isn't aware of a reason for not referring to females as "mankind" is a moron, and the people who do it anyhow are trash.

I'm going to call the housing facilitator tomorrow and ask him to continue searching for housing.

My main laptop won't boot lol!

Taking my bike out the back door is the most inconvenient thing ever because the lock is messed up and we have to keep a stick wedged against the door to keep people out. So I have to take it in and out of the front door without getting crap on the carpets.

So now what am I gonna do with myself? One would think I'd at least be happy to live near the water again. NOPE. It's cold near the water. To cold to go for an angry walk outside. All my movies are on the laptop that won't boot. Maybe I'll try reading a book in the bedroom. With the door closed. I feel like destroying something, honestly.
improperlyhuman: truck tipping over on the highway (tipping truck)
2016-11-15 12:53 pm
Entry tags:

Nothing Can Make Up For This Experience

What an awful day. On the way to the bus station, one of my pedals fell off. I missed the bus twice. I couldn't hold my bladder while locking up my bike outside the grocery store, and I had my worst wetting accident yet. I soaked through a medium-flow pad and my underwear, so now I'm using my shorts as underwear (I had jeans with me to wear over them.)

I missed breakfast, so there were no more breakfast burritos, which is the reason I'd gone to the store. The only available vegan baked item that didn't have chocolate in it was a vanilla blueberry muffin. I don't like vanilla.

Neither I nor the bike shop employees could figure out how to re-attach the pedal, so I had to buy a new pair. As soon as I make money, I have to spend it. One of the employees asked me if I'd been in a crash. Could it have been that crash I was in last week?! She said that bikes were weird in that they didn't show the effects of a crash immediately. Along with the bent basket, I've also recently noticed that the front brake handle thing is bent. I just got this bike three months ago, and it's already a mess: mismatched back wheel, barely usable back brakes, bent wheel well. All this because of living in the big city, constantly coming into contact with the insane number of people here, and all of that because a couple of children masquerading as adults burned down my safe, quiet, isolated home.

I of course have no way to secure my menstrual pads (which clip shut) inside the shorts. On my way from the bike shop, the pad slipped down my leg and would have been bound for the pavement if I hadn't been wearing my velcro biker pants-gatherer thingies.

I checked out the courses that make up UC Berkeley's copyediting program. Seven hundred bucks per course! And they're all taught online, so I wouldn't be able to attend in person. The UC San Diego courses cost $425 each.

It looks like it's about to rain. I'm near the bus line, but I'm out of town without my coat or umbrella.

Did I post about having lost my hoodie? Well, in the meantime, I've lost one of the only three pairs of jeans I owned.

This has been one of the worst experiences of my life. It's been worse than the last time I was homeless even though I had less money then and lived outdoors in the winter. And the reason it is so bad, though my tribulations are relatively mild and easy to solve? It's all someone else's fault.

It burns me up like nothing I've ever felt before to know that all this crap is because of those morons who lived below me. And the difficulty of finding housing, that's someone else's fault too, several someone's. Being prevented from simply pitching a tent somewhere, from being able to safely live outdoors instead of that mad house and pneumonia incubator of a shelter, that's men's fault. I'm so tired of my life being being floated this way and that on an ocean of circumstances created by other people.

And now, the good news: I have an appointment at the veteran's service center tomorrow. Finally! If I qualify, they will pay my deposit.

I had a kidney bean burrito and one of those vanilla blueberry muffins for brunch today. Fretting about the damp underwear in my backpack, I gobbled them down in desperate sorrow, before I'd thought of photographing them. I paid for the burrito with food stamps, but it was hot (a bit too hot, in fact)! A deli employee heated it up for me. So I got around the stupid food stamp rules against purchasing hot food.

I'm kind of struggling today. I feel like I have nothing to look forward to, and I don't know how to stop myself from remembering everything that's gone wrong. Maybe I can lose myself in a book, and maybe the rain (if it starts) will be over by the time I leave.

I saw a bale of hay (or was it straw? what's the difference?) today and decided right there that I want my new bed to be made of hay or something like it. I'll have to figure out a way to keep the hay from making a mess.
improperlyhuman: truck tipping over on the highway (tipping truck)
2016-11-09 02:09 pm

Skipping My Eyeglasses Finally Bit Me In The Ass

Without my eyeglasses, I've narrowly avoided some nasty spills while cycling at night because of my inability to survey the terrain immediately ahead.

Soooooo upset as of this afternoon. The barber didn't give me the haircut I asked for, and I didn't even notice until I was at least a mile away from the barbershop because I didn't wear my glasses! I never wear my glasses anymore; the frames feel strange on my face and looking through the lenses is awkward and irritating if not painful.

Immediately after the haircut was done, the barber handed me the mirror like barbers always do (actually, she did that twice: once after the main haircut was done and again after she'd lined up the hair around my neck) and I looked at my hair the best I could, which is not very well because I can't make out any details at the back of my head without corrective lenses. So I Ieft it to fate like I always do and said that it looked fine.

I've had off haircuts before, but this time was worse somehow. I'd made sure to use proper barber lingo to get the exact haircut I wanted, and that apparently didn't work. I'd used the exact same words with the barber's colleague a few weeks ago, and the haircut he gave me was almost perfect. Her work looks totally different. I asked for a skin fade, and there's no uncovered skin on my scalp, dammit. That's how I know she messed up: I ran my hand over the back of my scalp while I was stopped at a red light and felt all the hair back there. My hair doesn't even feel faded; it feels the same length just about all over my head. It's the easy, basic cut I used to give myself with my cheap department store clippers, and I blew eighteen dollars on it.

Eighteen dollars and all the anxiety it cost me to go to the barber shop at all. Barber shops always have music playing, I swear, at the same volume at which people are talking. So I was just beginning to relax in the chair when another barber started talking to me, and back up went the anxiety. When I have difficulty differentiating voices from background noise, it seems to me that the voice is fading in and out, and the background noise (which isn't exactly in the background if it's at the same volume, is it?) fades out and in. And that's what it sounded like. Of course I had to ask him to repeat himself. 

I don't wanna do this anymore :( Going to the barbershop is one of the things I let my anxiety talk me out of, and I think I'm gonna go back to that, at least for a while, once I get housed. I can't really do that now because I don't have clippers with me, and I really need my own space because I have to set up mirrors to be able to see the back of my head, and I need to be able to get hair all over the floor without having to clean it up immediately. Oh! And I always cut my hair naked so that the hair doesn't get into my clothes because it itches like crazy.

Both times I've seen her, the barber seemed to act extra nice towards me, which I found confusing and unsettling. It's in the way she spoke to me and leaned forward to shake my hand. It wasn't an I-like-you extra nice but a you-seem-troubled sort of extra nice. Maybe that's just her, who knows.

Ever since I got diagnosed with an auditory processing deficit, I've just gotten worse and worse. I worry about it more than I ever did. Before that diagnosis, I had a vague awareness that awkward shit could happen, but, not being able to pin it down, I was more likely to go through with the possibly awkward situation anyhow. Now, my perspective is that something awkward is very likely to happen, which is more acutely stressful. I can't do anything about it but avoid situations in which I have to listen.

My eyesight seems to have stopped improving. :(
I've probably allowed my ocular muscles to atrophy for too many decades.
And I just thought of something a couple of days ago! I'll need to rent a truck to move my stuff from storage and into my new apartment, and I'll have to wear glasses in order to drive safely and legally. I'll probably end up with a migraine.

And if the apartment doesn't pass inspection, I may be homeless long-term again because my voucher expires in less than one month. I've neither the time nor the energy (or more exactly, the wakefulness) to find another unit. My old complex has been renovated, and the rent has been jacked up another four hundred dollars! Crazy. The apartments there aren't worth that even with renovations.

Well. If the apartment does pass inspection, I'll have a month-to-month lease, which frees me to move into one of the complexes out in the country much sooner. I put my name on the waiting list a while ago, and the list covers like four different complexes in different rural towns, all with nice country roads (not deadly highways) and dedicated bike routes. But. I'll have to have neighbors again. I think the voucher rules require me to renounce current housing before they will even begin processing a new apartment, so I'll have to juggle dates to make sure that I'm not homeless in between, or long-term in the case that the new apartment doesn't work out. I'm really over the housing thing in general, and the voucher rules in particular are just ridiculous.

The library is blocking shoe.org. I bet it's because there's a picture of a topless womon on the main page. I have messages that I'm looking forward to reading, and I can't even load the website. I'll probably have to wait until the webmistresses change the main page.

I can't trust even Firefox anymore. Pocket, which is some type of add-on that can upload information to some cloud or other, is now built in to Firefox and enabled by default! I want to get off the Internet, but work is tying me to it. I want to find a way to work with paper, at least to the extent that I needn't rely on shady Internet services...but what about the trees?!

Such are the problems caused by civilization. So much time wasted with other people's bullshit to find housing and make a living. I could be living in a nice (and free!) airy hut and picking fruit off the trees for sustenance, but no, I get this.
improperlyhuman: screenshot of Apocalypse from X-Men: The Animated Series (apocalypse)
2016-10-26 06:21 pm
Entry tags:

100 Years of Pimpin'

Day before yesterday, my back bike wheel (and the attached kickstand) was stolen. The bike was locked up outside of the library. The whole damned point of having two bike locks was to safeguard both wheels. The back bike lock was still on when I found the bike after the theft, which confused me for a bit. I must have forgotten to run it through the spokes of the wheel in a sick/sleepy daze. Dammit to hell.

No security cameras. The security guard's shift didn't start until about a quarter of an hour after I found the bike. Perfect.

One hundred and nineteen dollars to replace the wheel (which is the wrong size and is now rubbing up against the metal frame to which my back brakes should be bolted), tire, inner tube, and tube guard, including labor to put the shit together. The bike tech didn't even tell me they didn't have the correct wheel size, just went through the whole job putting the shit together, then handed me the wrong-sized wheel, and that's when I noticed. But I went with it anyways. He reminded me about all the crap on the roads here in the city, and I agreed that a larger wheel would be beneficial.

Let's not forget the approximately $3.50 total I paid for public transportation back to the shelter from the library. The first bus wouldn't let me put my bike on the rack without the wheel (which scared me because I was relatively far away and the rain started soon thereafter), but the driver of the next bus allowed us aboard. Biggest pain in the ass ever carrying the bike in between transit stops. A pain in the shoulder, actually. The moron who designed the local rail service put stairs on every car except the first car, but bikes aren't allowed on the first car, so everyone has to heft their wheels up the damned stairs to ride the train.

Couldn't get the new wheel on last night and had to walk it back to the bike shop today. The part of my frame that the wheel nut-thingy slides into is bent, so I can no longer use a quick-release wheel. That's probably another favor the thief did me, since the stolen wheel was a quick-release wheel that I'd never had a problem with. Another fifteen dollars to have a different wheel bolted on. Nine dollars for a new kickstand.

I was struggling to attach said kickstand (I think it's missing a bolt) this afternoon when the landlord called and said that something (probably the credit check, couldn't understand the words) was taking too long and that we should move on with the process. So I have to get out there tomorrow to get the housing form filled in so that I can take it to the housing authority and get the inspection scheduled. They have two weeks to schedule it. Forever, basically.

I have no sure way to get out of the little town, so I may have to spring for a taxi. The genius who made up the shuttle schedule decided that the last bus out of town should leave less than an hour after the arrival of the inbound bus.

Great, I have a place (assuming the apartment passes inspection). I'm not even happy. Relieved, but not happy. I called the county highway patrol yesterday and found out that bikes are indeed allowed on the shoulder of the highway, but the officer said that they "don't recommend it." Yikes. I guess I'll invest in a helmet. I'll be a million miles from the co-op, but I can't go back to shopping in crappy regular grocery stores (they don't even have oat bran!), so I'm just going to have to become a hardcore cyclist. I don't want to live in this town; I want my old town back sooooo badly.

One of the shelter residents told me that I was "getting chunky," and that her husband had pointed it out to her. What the hell? Her husband needs to stop paying so much damned attention to my body.

OMG. These crazy ass homeless people. Yesterday, a womon was calling an elderly man a nigger out at the intersection in front of the shelter. He just shook his head. As she was crossing the street, she yelled back over her shoulder to tell him that she had been pimpin since 1913. THE YEAR NINETEEN HUNDRED AND THIRTEEN. ??? This afternoon, the cops came and arrested a womon who had been out on the sidewalk yelling at people all day and apparently exposing her breasts at some point.

I hate my life. I'm not going to tell any of the residents that I'm leaving because they'll all make a big deal out of it, just like they made a big deal out of my stolen back wheel. I didn't tell the first person who asked what happened, then another person asked me and I let it out. Then the whole dorm knew by the next day and I got a bunch of condolences I didn't want. So I'm just going to disappear because I don't want to hear shit from nobody anymore. Just like I wanted to forget about the wheel, I want to forget that I ever stayed in this shelter, forget about all the unwanted contact I've had with people (mainly outside the shelter). Since I've barely been awake during my stay, it'll be slightly easier to pretend that it's been one long bad dream.

That's what I need. To forget, to forget so much.

improperlyhuman: (dark Mulder)
2016-09-27 08:18 pm

Recertification

I have to have my income and related information recertified each year to keep my housing voucher. I found out that my yearly recertification was due the last weekday before I left for Oregon. My appointment was on the sixth of September, so I missed it.

Because my recertification is so late, my housing rep asked me to drop off the paperwork while we are in the process of rescheduling the face-to-face appointment. I asked if I could fax it, but she said the housing authority prefers that I bring it in because of the sensitive information in the documents. So I hopped on the bus to turn it in.

The town in which the housing authority lies is in a neighboring county. I HATE this town. There are SO many streets, so many neighborhoods, that look exactly alike. The town is surrounded by ugly hills with dead brown grass on them. The VA guy assigned to help me find housing has offered my apartments in this town several times despite the fact that I've told him that I don't want to live here. Maybe I'm not the only person who has trouble listening.

On my way from the housing authority, the driver of the local bus had the radio on, and not quietly. I asked him to turn it off because the noise bothered me. He replied that it didn't bother any of the other passengers. I didn't tell him that I have auditory sensitivity because I had no proof on me. This town is actually in the county that granted me disabled transportation status, but there is nothing on my card indication the nature of my disability is.

After I got off the bus, I called the transportation department and asked if his refusal was acceptable behavior. Apparently, someone is sending random buses out with radios playing in them, and the drivers are unable to turn them off (but can turn them down). This didn't used to be the case. Why didn't the driver just tell me that he couldn't turn the radio off? The supervisor kept repeating that the bus service is PUBLIC transportation. What I couldn't think of while we were on the phone is this: if whoever runs the buses is randomly putting on the music, what does the public have to do with that? The other passengers didn't have any control over the radio. Did the community vote to have music on the buses? I call bullshit.

I was very upset and on the verge of tears as we pulled into the bus station. Then I saw my intercity bus leaving. So I was stranded too! I knew that if I didn't get home before curfew, I'd lose my shelter bed and end up on the streets. What a great day. I was also starving despite having eaten a whole pizza for lunch. A pizza whose crust was vegan, according to an employee, but the email response I got from the corporate office indicated that only the gluten-free crust is vegan. The gluten-free crust costs an extra two dollars.

So I was gonna have to wait for the next bus and then bike ten miles in the wind when I remembered the train. So I'm here at the train station. The trait is forty-five minutes late because of a malfunctioning drawbridge. I have plenty of time to make it back to the shelter before curfew, but no time to work. I got a new editing contract today, and I have a short deadline. Tomorrow is the vet meeting and my vet case management, so that's more time wasted instead of working.

I thought that the bus driver's tone of voice was rather stern, and I was especially upset after I found out that he couldn't turn off the radio because his choice to tell me otherwise suggested that he intended to do something other than inform or placate. I shed a few tears sitting there at the hot, empty bus stop. Then I remembered that I supposedly can't really trust my ability to discern tone of voice. That at least made me smile a bit. Maybe the same disability that was aggravated was the thing that prevented a satisfying conversation with management and the same thing that caused me to misread the driver's tone. Lolz what a predicament. I went and had a burrito after that.

I tried calling my sister to ask for a ride, but of course she couldn't help me. If she hadn't been stuck in traffic a zillion miles away, something else would have been the problem. You can't ever rely on poor people, lemme tell ya.

There's never going to be any substantial accommodation of my auditory sensitivity anywhere. This is going to be an issue my whole damned life. Even as a kid I was nearly driven insane because my dad had so many kids and they made such a racket. So I have to just stay the hell away from everything.
improperlyhuman: (dark Mulder)
2016-03-31 06:50 pm
Entry tags:

$21 for A Migraine

I was happy this morning because my headache went away completely, but being out and about brought it back. My paratransit trip to the VA took roughly the same amount of time it would have taken had I used the bus, cost twice as much, and didn't prevent a migraine—the main thing I applied for paratransit to prevent. So I won't be using that service again except for absolutely critical trips one town away. The only pros were the curbside service and the lack of other passengers.

I tried to find the travel dept. to which I'd been directed, but it apparently does not exist. There were forms for travel reimbursement at the reception desk. That's all.

I am so pissed that I can't lift or work on my latest editing test or concentrate on ANYTHING with this pain. The whole day is RUINED. I am DEFINITELY not going to my upcoming medical appointment unless I can get a ride, a SINGLE ride, not a transfer between two shuttles/vans.

The van driver was playing the damned radio up until I asked her to turn it off on the return trip. MAYBE the drivers should be given some sort of information about the specific needs of the passengers. It's ridiculous that I get approved on the basis of auditory sensitivity and have to ask to have the radio off! I know that local paratransit does not have many consumers, so this shouldn't be difficult to implement.

On the bright side, Clif Bars were only a dollar at the medical center convenience store, and I got a tasty and inexpensive lunch of tofu stir fry, egg rolls, and fried rice (it was more like fried orzo) at the cafeteria.

I was the only person in the lab and was served immediately. I was surprised that I had to give up only four vials of blood.

The van driver sounded surprised when I asked her to turn the radio off. I wonder what she would have sounded like to someone else. I remember that one of the voices I listened to during my neuropsych testing sounded surprised, but "surprised" wasn't even one of the answer choices lol.

My employment specialist seems to think that she can't help me much. She found another company that hires remote editors, and I agreed to apply yesterday. I looked up some Glassdoor reviews of the company today. Enough of the remote editors seemed displeased to give me pause. Well, whatever. I can always refuse whatever offer I may get. The job requires Word 2010, so she said that she would request a new computer for me. I don't want a new computer, but I doubt VOR will buy me a refurbished computer, and I'm worried that it'll seem weird for me to even ask for one (which of course is not nearly so big of a deal that I ought to worry about it).

I had a couple bags of Lay's potato chips for the sodium. That seemed to alleviate my migraine before. Not this time, thousand calories worth of junk down the hatch. I lay down for a while, which has ALWAYS been helpful, but I felt worse afterwards this time.
improperlyhuman: truck tipping over on the highway (tipping truck)
2016-03-30 10:25 pm
Entry tags:

Ouch :(

I have a migraine starting up and if it isn't gone by tomorrow morning, it's probably just gonna get worse because I have to fast for my blood work and be out all day because the paratransit trip requires a transfer and is gonna take forever, not to mention cost me a fortune! Over twenty dollars. Never again.

The person who answered the phone at the VA motor pool told me they couldn't give me rides. I don't know what the hell is going on or who my social worker spoke to, but the VA needs to get its shit together. So...I'm paying twenty-one dollars to go get blood work done in preparation for an appointment that I have no way to get to other than spending another twenty-one dollars.

My ass was killing me today. Damned squats, I better have an ass that won't quit after all this.

improperlyhuman: truck tipping over on the highway (tipping truck)
2016-02-26 10:29 pm
Entry tags:

I Hate AT&T

I don't trust wireless internet. Exposure, especially regular exposure, to artificially generated electromagnetic waves cannot be 100% safe. I know there are people who feel ill around wireless.

I finally got around to trying to cancel my wi-fi today. When I cancelled my phone service last December, a promotion was added to my account without my knowledge. My contract was originally going to end next month, but added promotions extend the contract, so now I won't be able to cancel my service before December 2016 without paying a cancellation fee. First, I tried to get my wi-fi uninstalled. I was told that AT&T is phasing out DSL. My choices are limited to keeping my current service or having it completely shut off; I can't get DSL by itself.

So then I decided to cancel altogether. But that cancellation fee. Shady business practices are another reason why I want a completely different ISP, a local company. After dodging lackey customer service reps who tried to talk me out of cancelling, I was fortunate to be connected with a technician that bullshitted significantly less than the others. He offered to suspend my service rather than cancel it, and I jumped at the opportunity.

I then joyously contacted two local ISPs. Employees from both informed me that they cannot provide DSL unless I have an AT&T phone line! AT&T OWNS the phone lines, and other ISPs cannot provide service unless AT&T leases the lines to them, which AT&T will not do unless I use AT&T's phone service. The hell??? Since when does AT&T own the phone lines? I did a bit of Internet research. I'm clearly behind the times. Some kind of deal between government and AT&T, and the latter is planning to phase out wired phone and Internet service completely.

I'm going to call the FCC first thing Monday morning. This is straight-up bullshit, of the monopolistic variety no less. I should be able to contract with any DSL provider I want without interference from AT&T.

My only other option is cable internet, but it's looking like I don't have many options for that because rural area that I thought I wanted to live in so much. This area isn't even a terribly remote, just a bunch of farms in between towns. If I moved to wimmin's land, I'd probably have even fewer options. I can probably get Obamaphone service from AT&T for a few dollars per month, but I'd rather avoid this company altogether.

Squatted 65 lbs. today and benched a measly 10. I have like no upper body strength at all, apparently.

improperlyhuman: (Default)
2016-01-21 06:53 pm
Entry tags:

Downsides of Being Small

I am crazy with frustration. I was planning on ordering my power rack today, but it occurred to me that the one I was about to choose was too wide for my barbell. Customer service confirmed. I've spent all day trying to find a narrow power rack. Well, I learned that most power racks are designed for a "standard" 7ft long barbell.

My barbell is 5ft long. I don't want a 7ft long barbell; aside from the additional expense, that seems huge and maybe even dangerous for my size, what with balancing the length and all. I don't want to waste effort on balancing something long; I want my effort to go towards vertical lifting. I asked about narrow power racks on a fitness forum and multiple posters told me that 7ft should be fine. I can't trust what they say because most lifters are men and probably have no idea what it's like to navigate the world as a 5ft tall womon. One of them asked me if I have room outside of my hands to rack the bar. I have eight inches on each side!

While I wasn't failing to find a power rack, I was failing to find a weight bench that won't leave my legs dangling. I found one that's fifteen inches high. It costs over a hundred bucks.

I hate this. I'm giving up tomorrow. Saving money is no longer worth my sanity, and a narrower power rack apparently doesn't exist anyhow, so I'll give in and order the power rack, buy a longer barbell, hopefully lose the ebay auction for the taller bench I bid on this morning, and spend another hundred bucks on the fifteen-inch travel bench. 

So, back to earning money to pay for all of this stuff. My right arm hurts. I was supposed to be saving up for a trip to Oregon, wasn't I? I really need this weightlifting thing now.

Oh, one good thing happened today. I received a letter from the housing authority about my new rent responsibility. I was worried about having to pay a huge portion of my new income for rent, but it only went up by seven dollars! I laughed. Seventeen bucks for rent! I have it good. I'm glad that I decided not to hide my income. However, the same thing that resulted in such a small increase this year—the fact that Upwork only makes earnings statements available yearly—may result in too large of an increase next year. I hope that I'll be gone by then. Downstairs neighbors kept me awake for hours with revolting sex noises last night, and their TV was loud again.

It occurred to me that I can now afford to travel to the next town for therapy.
improperlyhuman: screenshot of Apocalypse from X-Men: The Animated Series (apocalypse)
2015-11-19 12:06 pm
Entry tags:

Knowing My Craft

Just what the hell is the paleo diet, anyhow? I thought the point was to eat like ancient hunter gatherers ate as much as possible. Why does so much processed paleo food exist? Come to think of it, raw food must have made up a very large proportion of the diet of Paleolithic peoples. They certainly didn't eat domesticated animals doped up on antibiotics and growth hormones. I wonder just how paleo paleo dieters tend to eat.

After calling a bazillion veteran's offices, I finally found out that the same transportation service I've been using will give me a ride to other VA clinics, which doesn't jibe with what I had previously been lead to believe. So the frustration ends. I'd tried calling the advice nurse again, and she kept saying  'get your labs done' again and again, even after I'd told her that I wasn't able to get to the lab.

This morning, the person from the transportation office seemed to speak to me like I was an idiot for not knowing that they would drive me to any clinic, undoubtedly oblivious to the runaround I've been getting. The awkward icing on the awkward cake is that I will have to call back; not expecting to book a ride today and thrown off-kilter by the employee's patronizing tone and my usual phone anxiety, I wasn't able to think enough to coordinate a ride to the lab next week.

I need to know more about my craft. The craft of writing, that is. I finally figured out the miscommunication between my employer and I: he hired me as a proofreader, and I'd been serving as an editor due to the horrific writing quality, but he actually needed an editor and a proof-reader. I knew that I was doing too much work and that his expectations were too high, but I lacked the knowledge to explain that, and, for a while, I feared that I was just seeking to excuse my incompetence. Then I did some searching and came across the difference between editing and proof-reading, and, more importantly, the fact that they are two different jobs. I can't do both.

I will be sure to link that article on my work profile. I've decided to market myself as an editor and avoid proofreading jobs, due in no small part to fears engendered by this work experience that I lack the attention to detail and extensive knowledge of grammar and usage required by the later.

Where's the final draft of my audiology report??? This doctor must be super busy.

A couple of months ago, I came across a review which suggested that Maleficent stood out from standard theatrical fare by focusing on female characters. I was tantalized. I finally watched it last night, in out-of-order bits and chunks because I hadn't expected it to be interesting enough to sit straight through. I was moved! I like self-possessed, stony-faced womyn with bitter, vengeful hearts. Then again, I suppose it's easy to be self-possessed when one has magical powers. And the baby was such a good actress. I wonder how they got her to smile and sneeze on cue.
improperlyhuman: (Default)
2015-11-02 05:44 pm
Entry tags:

What's Going On With Food Stamps?

I woke up disappointed that I wouldn't be able to do my usual grocery shopping because of the rain. Little did I know that a far greater hurdle stood between me and groceries. On my way out to buy bananas for breakfast, I called the EBT hotline to make sure that my card had been loaded with November's food stamp (or as it's now called, Cal-Fresh) benefit. The automated voice informed me that my balance is less than a dollar.

I had no idea what was going on. I thought maybe the electronic transfer system was down. My social worker didn't answer the phone (as usual), so I left a message. I called the the county social services hotline and found out that my case had been discontinued effective the last day of October. No idea why. I haven't received any discontinuance notices. I did some searching around online and ended up down a bunch of dead ends; seems there was some type of mass food stamp discontinuance scare back in 2013. But there was also something about a possible government shutdown that would disrupt benefits this year.

So I finally tried a reliable source: California's state website. It seems there is a rule for "able-bodied adults" that had been waived until recently. Such clients must be working or in training or education programs to receive food stamps if Cal-Fresh is the only benefit they receive. I don't know if that includes me or not. It seems likely since I've recently stopped receiving cash aid; on the other hand, I'm still receiving Medi-Cal. But I'm supposed to receive a notice before benefits are stopped.

So now I have to visit some food pantries :*( I hate relying on food that other people have chosen because it's not vegan, not optimized for hypoglycemia, and, worst of all, ALWAYS of lower quality than what I'm used to eating. Oddly, "lower quality" usually means more ingredients. Eating mainstream food/SAD diet is like being in another universe. Corn syrup in everything, everything way too salty. Tomato sauce shouldn't taste like sugar, dammit. What I like best is when they give out plain, uncooked food like bags of beans, rice, potatoes, and (whole grain) pasta. I can work with those easily. Not so easy to remove all the damned sodium from the canned goods and boxes of over-processed food-like substances. And OMG, peanut butter with salt AND sugar AND oil added to it? That one is a food bank staple. Sickening and unnecessary adulteration of an otherwise great food. Peanuts are enough.

At least I'll be able to get fresh vegetables. Sprayed with all-living-things-icide, but vegetables nonetheless. It feels strange to eat meals without vegetables.

Low food time is culinary creativity time. I don't have much more than some chickpea flour, soy flour, spices, and a jar of pecan butter in my kitchen. I made a loaf of soy/chickpea flour bread. I feared it would be a gooey disaster, but it's quite good, especially with peanut butter. Looks nice, too. Why can't we upload pictures directly from our computers on this site?
improperlyhuman: (Default)
2015-08-10 04:43 pm
Entry tags:

Powerlessness

I'm so angry I don't even know what to do with myself. I called Humane Animal Services to find out what is up with this rooster that is STILL waking me up at 4 A.M. EVERY morning. Well, they sent someone out last week. And that's it. I was told that it's legal to own a rooster in this situation, and they couldn't do anything else, and I'd have to file a petition. So then I spent some time going back and forth between this office and the local police department, the code compliance officer of which re-iterated that the situation is not legal.

I spoke to the director of HAS, who acted like a jerk. I tried to explain that the situation was illegal, and he told me that he wasn't going to "force" the residents to give up the rooster against the law. I was like, what the hell, that is not what I asked you to do. IMMEDIATELY after I said that I got the code information from the police department, he says that he doesn't know where I'm getting my information from. I honestly do not understand why people say stupid shit like this: pretend that one has said things that one doesn't say and so forth. He refused to call the code compliance officer.

Mercifully, said officer called him. Getting back to me, she painted a ridiculously complicated picture. I'm still not sure that I understand it all. Like, the city's relevant code differs from the county's code, and Humane Animal Services operates according to county code or something. In the end, Humane Animal Services will not remove the animal unless he is being kept in inhumane living conditions, OR if it is decided that the creature is a nuisance in a hearing that might be scheduled after I file a petition that must be signed by one or two other neighbors, if HAS deems the petition to be hearing-worthy. I'm sure that's a helluva lot more days or even weeks on half a night's worth of sleep.

But this is the really messed-up part: I didn't get the details of what happened when HAS paid my neighbor a visit, but the code compliance officer did. Apparently, no rooster was found at that dwelling. Only chickens. Why didn't HAS tell me this when I called?! Why the long spiel about the legality of rooster ownership? This shady shit plus the director talking to me like an idiot = I don't trust HAS anymore.

So I have three options:

1. Find the property manager and try to get her to do something about this.
2. Try to find a neighbor with whom to file a petition, hope HAS will act on it, and hope the matter will be decided in my favor.
3. Report the crowing to local PD while it's happening (again!) in the hopes that they can get me the correct unit number (this time), but then it's back to HAS, so, hope they find something against their rules, otherwise, back to step 2.

This crazy shit is one of the reasons why I HATE living around other people. There is ALWAYS some noise bombardment at some point. I looked up the relevant municipal code. A "public nuisance" is defined according to the sensibilities of a "reasonable person" of "normal sensitivity." I guess that's not me, eh? And I guess those of us with "abnormal" sensitivity are expected to simply suffer.

The sad aspect of this situation is that the one thing I specifically asked of my housing coordinator was a quiet neighborhood. My VA social worker asked me if it was quiet here because she's working with some other veterans who are seeking housing. I definitely can't answer in the affirmative any longer.

The last twist in this enraging story is that the residents of the unit HAS visited were apparently in the process of moving. So, if they really are harboring a rooster (that they hid, maybe?), maybe I won't have to listen to him for much longer. Good riddance, disgusting speciesists. Or hell, maybe they'd like to keep humans on their back patio as well.

No, that was the second to last twist. The last twist is where I ended up on my Internet search on roosters, upon which I embarked after I was told that only chickens were found. There is a creature called a frizzle chicken. I haven't been able to find many recordings of her call, but, compared to the rooster recordings, it sounds more like what I've been hearing. The sound isn't any sort of cock-a-doodle-do to my ears. I, of course, am not familiar with either, so I'm not sure, but surely roosters are much more common. But what if they found no rooster because these people have no rooster? What if the HAS officer simply overlooked a frizzle chicken???

I hate this powerlessness, and I hate when simpletons and jerks talk about "freedom in America." Well sure, compared to brutal foreign government that tortures people for petty "crimes." That's a low standard. But I have precious little leeway to get myself out of this situation. I can't afford to move away, and anyone who moves is at the mercy of landlords and realty companies anyhow. Even someone who had money would be hard-pressed to move away from her job. Honestly, I would rather like to go back to living outdoors, but of course that's illegal. That isn't freedom, that's being forced to participate in the housing market. Which of course forces a person to participate in the economy.

The anguishing thing is that people are so identified with their slavery that this kind of stuff doesn't even bother them. No animal should be barred from living in its natural habitat and forced to rely on others to survive. Forced dependence is dis-empowering. Which reminds me of the video we watched at my vocational rehab orientation this morning. People who think that relying on someone else for a job constitutes independence are SO damned brainwashed. Aside from living completely outside of the modern economy, being on benefits is actually a more independent state of living. People who work for pay actually have to produce something; maintaining benefits requires little more than filling out some forms. Outside of government jobs, an employer can fire for damn near any reason, but there are protocols and appeals and hearings for being kicked off of benefits.   

I wonder if I could find a way to use my housing voucher to live on womyn's land.

In more positive news, U.S. sicknesses are reportedly being exported, so perhaps people the world over will just die off from obesity, diabetes, heart disease, etc. epidemics, sadly taking with them untold numbers of other animals via their potbellies and fatally clogged arteries, but, at least there's hope of an end.

improperlyhuman: (Default)
2014-11-28 07:58 pm
Entry tags:

WHYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY???

The lone beacon to be seen from the stormy, malevolent sea of Thanksgiving Day was having my phone service restored. Even better, there's a new state program that gives me unlimited minutes and texts, quite an improvement over the 250 apiece I had before. Wonderful California.

So today I got a call from the psychology student who assessed me. Horror of unspeakable horrors, she wanted to reschedule our session for a week after the previously agreed-upon date (Dec. 2). I agreed, because why should I, with my mountains of free time, insist upon a date with someone who has...whatever it is she has to do (I couldn't understand the reason she gave; story of my life with phones)? There was the briefest hesitation in my mind, knowing that the extended wait would cause me to suffer, but I swallowed it.

So I have eleven days to wait instead of four. What've I to look forward to, now?

I did much better in the food department today. Three bean burritos and a tostada.
improperlyhuman: black and white icon with text "if you identify with gender, you identify with patriarchy." (gender)
2014-11-20 07:40 pm
Entry tags:

Another Shitty Day

Every time I'm ready to leave camp, something happens to delay me. Today, it began to rain just as I finished getting dressed. I have no waterproof anything, so I sat and waited. Finished three sudoku (medium difficulty) and waited some more, considered calling the social worker and asking her to come to this town to pick me up.

Finally, I could wait no more. I put on a second pair of pants and a hoodie to absorb water and set off. Once in town, I stopped at the first bus stop, hoping to avoid the bridge and get out of the rain sooner by transferring from the local bus to the multi-zone bus. I'd arrived at the stop about ten minutes too late, and only had about fifteen minutes to catch the bus I needed. I rushed over the bridge and made it to the stop as the last person waiting boarded the bus. Not wanting to hold everyone up, I left my bag tied to the bike after I loaded the latter onto the rack.

My ear defenders were in the bag; the only ear protection I had were my Howard Leight reusable ear plugs. Of course, someone having a cell phone conversation boarded at the next stop, sat right across from me, and continued that conversation for some fifteen or twenty minutes, right up until the point of disembarkation, at which point an even bigger loudmouth boarded, the sort of person who talks to everyone about nothing.

I disembarked downtown and checked my mail. Still no transportation check, but there was a letter from Social Services informing me that my cash benefits would be discontinued, effective the last day of this month, because my new worker (the old one retired, I assume) hadn't received the monthly income report. That I'd already submitted.

The social worker picked me up in a government vehicle in front of city hall. She was following a GPS device that was giving her the wrong directions. She took my directions up until we got onto the freeway, then decided to take an off-ramp as per the GPS. Thus we embarked upon a ten to fifteen minute detour.

At the Housing Authority, I had to fill out a new application because I'm having my voucher transferred from one area to another. I left the race/ethnicity boxes blank, but was informed that I had to fill in that information. I think I checked Asian/Pacific Islander and Hispanic. I don't understand why Hispanic/Not Hispanic is a separate item from the race question.

During my appointment, I found out, yet again, that the process would take longer than I'd anticipated. Because I haven't yet leased an apartment, I'm not yet considered to be participating in the voucher program, so the new Housing Authority has to run a background check, even though the previous Housing Authority already has.

The printout showing my monthly income was missing from my file, but the social worker agreed to drive me to the Social Services Dept. to get another, and said that she would drop off all of the paperwork for me, thank goodness. I don't know which utilities are included in the rent, so I wasn't even able to find out if the apartment will be approved because the cost of utilities might put me over the 40% of my income that is the maximum I'm allowed to be paying. I'm good if the rent covers all of the utilities except electric. The social worker offered me a ride back to town, but I had my bike with me and so I couldn't accept.

After I got dropped off (in the rain), I rushed to the bus stop, only to find that I'd just missed the bus. I then saw that my backpack was partially opened and that my laptop had probably gotten wet. Indeed, it's acting strangely right now. This adventure ran from noon until nearly six-thirty p.m. (the time at which I got off the bus here at the college. I hadn't eaten since breakfast. My clothes are still wet; I'm sitting here barefoot, hoping that my shoes and socks will dry out a bit.

I didn't have much food on me today, so I might go to Taco Bell later. Yuck.