I thought they had left me, but I was wrong. I'm still surrounded by whackadoodles!!
First, there was the bus driver who was convinced I didn't know what bus I was on and it was the wrong one in any case. No, really, I know my bus lines. I know that the 162 swings by the hospital AND the library and I got on it for a reason.
While on the bus, there was a woman who thought it was all about her. The bus driver points out to me that this is the library (no, really?), just as I'm reaching up to request the stop. Another person flips out that he's talking and she doesn't want to go to the library and why is he telling her that this is the library, because she wants to go to the hospital and this is the bus that goes to the hospital, right? Ummm, it isn't all about you. There are other people on the bus.
Then, when I left the library and went to get off at my next stop, there was the woman who decided she had to block the door otherwise the bus would run off without her and the people who were running to reach the bus. I said "excuse me" twice, she didn't budge and I knew I could win that game. So I stood there, blocking progress, until she moved and let me off the bus. That was fun.
G and I went into Old Towne on Wednesday, via the REX because it's a really easy ride. A woman who's been on the bus for a while leans over when we're at Huntington and asks someone if this is the bus to King Street. Well, gee, it only says that its destination is King Street Station on the front and why didn't you look before you got on, you twit? Then, on our way back, the same woman walks over and asks if this is the stop for the REX to Huntington. Not that she's going to Huntington, but, really, the bus from King Street only goes one way (south). We waited to see if she asked at Huntington if this was the bus to Fort Belvoir. Thank heavens that didn't happen.
And, of course, there are always the people at AccessFairfax who sit by the printer and look at you like you have a third eye in the middle of your forehead when you have the nerve to go over and pick up your printouts. It's there for all of us and we can share and we'd also appreciate it if you didn't flip your nasty hair and hit us with it. Twice. (And then there was the guy who freaked out because I had something in the middle of his stuff and what in the world was that. Yeesh. Again, it isn't all about you.)
But the best whackadoodles are the insidious ones. You know, the ones just stop speaking to you and make the massive mistake of leaving an unfinished project in your possession that you were working on for them. Now I get to wonder when or if she's going to grow balls enough to ask for it back. (Yes, it's been frogged because I'm not a saint.)
Friday, June 14, 2013
Monday, June 3, 2013
Just the same old whackadoodle
You gotta love it... I appear to have acquired a permanent whackadoodle in my life. Goodness knows every time I hear his name, I get brand new blog fodder.
First, he has a court date because he was arrested on a marijuana possession charge. Except it's the same day as the first day of the Allgood music festival, so he's decided to blow off the court date. The man is facing jail time but it's more important that he not miss his music festival so there you go. Is this where I mention that he's also refusing to spend money on an attorney? He's decided to go pro se. And that's all that needs to be said on that incident.
And then there's the next one, which also happens to be one of my pet peeves. If I ask you to do something, then I owe you for that. If you do something for me that I don't ask you to do for your own reasons, especially if it doesn't specifically benefit me, then I don't owe you squat. Guess what my whackadoodle does on a regular basis.
Seems JTMA (why, yes, JTA has received an upgrade) isn't fond of the person he's staying with at the moment so he tries to find other things to do that don't involve being at home. (The person isn't any happier with JTMA than JTMA is with him, but it's his house so it's his rules.) The other day, he decided he was 17 years old and went to G's place of work to hang with him. And, yes, we know that that's something teenagers do which is why G kind of chased him off since G is most definitely not a teenager and doesn't want to lose his job. Now, JTMA came there of his own free will to pick G up and possibly hang with him in order to avoid going home. First, G comes out with a chicken salad sandwich that was provided by the boss and JTMA wants a bite and whines when G points out how small the sandwich is about why he can't just have one bite. (This is also an old story where JTMA is concerned; whatever you have he always wants just one little bite.)
G needed to make a couple stops which he would have done on his own had JTMA not been there. The punchline here is that when G wanted to go home, JTMA pitched a fit, informed him that gas isn't free, and told him to go buy him a six-pack of Natural Light (yes, it's beer, and not one I'd ever heard of before meeting JTMA.) G demurs, JTMA insists, and G goes back into the store and buys him a six-pack. G then spends the next couple days going to meetings because the last thing he needed to do was buy beer. And, of course, when G told me what had happened, I was pissed. I was so pissed if JTMA had shown up at the front door, he'd have gotten ripped up one side, down the other, and through the middle because Ms. Protective would have shown up and informed JTMA just what a Massive Asshole he is. Really and truly off-pissing.
JTMA is a control freak who doesn't really think of anyone else, or should I say he appears to do something out of the kindness of his own heart but he's really holding a chip which he cashes in when he decided he wants something or he's mad at you or something. Oh, and did I mention he's an alcoholic which is the last thing G needs to have in his life right now, but I know how hard it is to cut ties even though you know you should. I knew that I needed to cut ties (with an exception or two) because of my depression but I didn't and now I'm paying the price. As someone I know once said, "You're depressed? Depression is a debilitating illness? But it doesn't look like your leg is broken." And, yes, he understood exactly how debilitating depression is. So G needs to make new friends who aren't alcoholics or druggies and I know exactly how difficult that is.
First, he has a court date because he was arrested on a marijuana possession charge. Except it's the same day as the first day of the Allgood music festival, so he's decided to blow off the court date. The man is facing jail time but it's more important that he not miss his music festival so there you go. Is this where I mention that he's also refusing to spend money on an attorney? He's decided to go pro se. And that's all that needs to be said on that incident.
And then there's the next one, which also happens to be one of my pet peeves. If I ask you to do something, then I owe you for that. If you do something for me that I don't ask you to do for your own reasons, especially if it doesn't specifically benefit me, then I don't owe you squat. Guess what my whackadoodle does on a regular basis.
Seems JTMA (why, yes, JTA has received an upgrade) isn't fond of the person he's staying with at the moment so he tries to find other things to do that don't involve being at home. (The person isn't any happier with JTMA than JTMA is with him, but it's his house so it's his rules.) The other day, he decided he was 17 years old and went to G's place of work to hang with him. And, yes, we know that that's something teenagers do which is why G kind of chased him off since G is most definitely not a teenager and doesn't want to lose his job. Now, JTMA came there of his own free will to pick G up and possibly hang with him in order to avoid going home. First, G comes out with a chicken salad sandwich that was provided by the boss and JTMA wants a bite and whines when G points out how small the sandwich is about why he can't just have one bite. (This is also an old story where JTMA is concerned; whatever you have he always wants just one little bite.)
G needed to make a couple stops which he would have done on his own had JTMA not been there. The punchline here is that when G wanted to go home, JTMA pitched a fit, informed him that gas isn't free, and told him to go buy him a six-pack of Natural Light (yes, it's beer, and not one I'd ever heard of before meeting JTMA.) G demurs, JTMA insists, and G goes back into the store and buys him a six-pack. G then spends the next couple days going to meetings because the last thing he needed to do was buy beer. And, of course, when G told me what had happened, I was pissed. I was so pissed if JTMA had shown up at the front door, he'd have gotten ripped up one side, down the other, and through the middle because Ms. Protective would have shown up and informed JTMA just what a Massive Asshole he is. Really and truly off-pissing.
JTMA is a control freak who doesn't really think of anyone else, or should I say he appears to do something out of the kindness of his own heart but he's really holding a chip which he cashes in when he decided he wants something or he's mad at you or something. Oh, and did I mention he's an alcoholic which is the last thing G needs to have in his life right now, but I know how hard it is to cut ties even though you know you should. I knew that I needed to cut ties (with an exception or two) because of my depression but I didn't and now I'm paying the price. As someone I know once said, "You're depressed? Depression is a debilitating illness? But it doesn't look like your leg is broken." And, yes, he understood exactly how debilitating depression is. So G needs to make new friends who aren't alcoholics or druggies and I know exactly how difficult that is.
Wednesday, April 24, 2013
Hockey, forever and ever
When the score was 1-0 last night in the Capitals game against Winnipeg, I stated that it was over and the Capitals had won the Southeast Division. The next thing I heard was a snort at my early call of the game, only to have someone eat his snort later in the evening when the score was a 5-3 final. Someone should really learn to have more faith in me, shouldn't he?
And I have an annoyance with some of the professional hockey analysts. I saw a goal breakdown between Steven Stamkos and Alex Ovechkin, with Ovechkin being criticized for most of his goals coming against the Southeast Division, which is apparently filled with pansy teams. (Of course, they fight hard against the pansy designation, but they should all realize now that they're pansies and roll over and play dead. Besides, it isn't like the Southeast has ever produced one Stanley Cup winner, let alone two, right? Oops, forgot about Carolina and Tampa Bay.) Stamkos was praised for the majority of his goals coming against the remainder of the Eastern Conference while, once again, Ovechkin is a pansy goal-scorer.
My curiosity is this: Stamkos and Ovechkin are both in the Southeast Division. If the Southeast Division is such a cakewalk (yeah, try playing Carolina and Tampa six times a year), why doesn't Stamkos have even more goals than he does. After all, if Ovechkin scores 56% (or whatever his percentage is) of his goals against the Southeast, shouldn't Stamkos have a similar, if not higher percentage? Since scoring against the Southeast is such a piece of cake, after all, and Stamkos is far superior to Ovechkin, why is Ovechkin's percentage of Southeast goals higher than Stamkos? I love it how the analysts like to compare apples and oranges and actually occasionally make it sound reasonable to someone who isn't able to think for him or herself.
Okay, 'nuf said. I'm done whining now.
And I have an annoyance with some of the professional hockey analysts. I saw a goal breakdown between Steven Stamkos and Alex Ovechkin, with Ovechkin being criticized for most of his goals coming against the Southeast Division, which is apparently filled with pansy teams. (Of course, they fight hard against the pansy designation, but they should all realize now that they're pansies and roll over and play dead. Besides, it isn't like the Southeast has ever produced one Stanley Cup winner, let alone two, right? Oops, forgot about Carolina and Tampa Bay.) Stamkos was praised for the majority of his goals coming against the remainder of the Eastern Conference while, once again, Ovechkin is a pansy goal-scorer.
My curiosity is this: Stamkos and Ovechkin are both in the Southeast Division. If the Southeast Division is such a cakewalk (yeah, try playing Carolina and Tampa six times a year), why doesn't Stamkos have even more goals than he does. After all, if Ovechkin scores 56% (or whatever his percentage is) of his goals against the Southeast, shouldn't Stamkos have a similar, if not higher percentage? Since scoring against the Southeast is such a piece of cake, after all, and Stamkos is far superior to Ovechkin, why is Ovechkin's percentage of Southeast goals higher than Stamkos? I love it how the analysts like to compare apples and oranges and actually occasionally make it sound reasonable to someone who isn't able to think for him or herself.
Okay, 'nuf said. I'm done whining now.
Tuesday, April 16, 2013
Expiration Dates
Okay, if you know me, you probably know about me and the expiration date. If you don't, then it goes something like this: 90 days, out the door. So if I'm seeing someone, they get 90 days and then I'm bored and they are out the door and it's over. It's worked for me without fail with one exception.
I haven't shared the expiration date with G because, well, I just didn't. By the time I thought maybe I should, I decided that maybe I shouldn't. If you'd seen the reaction to my April Fool's joke on him (not the one from FB, where I told the world that we'd gotten married), you'd understand.
G's 90 days are about up.
I've been fretting about it because I don't want him to have an expiration date. And, yes, I know what that means. If I don't want him to have an expiration date, then he won't have one. Except that lack of an expiration date puts him in that rarified air that currently only contains one resident. And if you know who that resident is, you know how serious this is.
This is truly serious.
And, as an aside, how 'bout them Caps??? I know I'm prolly going to be wearing my jersey tonight while we don't listen to the radio because 1500AM has entirely too much static and they aren't on 106.7 any longer. (Rotten strike, I hate you.)
Amusing anecdote: There's a homeless colony (for lack of a better word) down on Route 1 just before the Burger King that now has a mailbox. I know about this colony because a friend of mine tried to join it because they were homeless and she was homeless, except they ran her off. Right fast. The other day, G showed the location to JTA, telling him it was a homeless colony. JTA declared that it wasn't a homeless colony, but instead some sort of government conspiracy. Before you roll your eyes at that one, you should also know that JTA also calls the jet trails you see behind airplanes "chem trails" because there's a government conspiracy to poison and kill everyone by spewing chemicals out of the engines of those big planes. Yeah, really. No, it isn't always possible to be around him, but I will tell you that it's kind of interesting having your own personal whackadoodle around.
I haven't shared the expiration date with G because, well, I just didn't. By the time I thought maybe I should, I decided that maybe I shouldn't. If you'd seen the reaction to my April Fool's joke on him (not the one from FB, where I told the world that we'd gotten married), you'd understand.
G's 90 days are about up.
I've been fretting about it because I don't want him to have an expiration date. And, yes, I know what that means. If I don't want him to have an expiration date, then he won't have one. Except that lack of an expiration date puts him in that rarified air that currently only contains one resident. And if you know who that resident is, you know how serious this is.
This is truly serious.
And, as an aside, how 'bout them Caps??? I know I'm prolly going to be wearing my jersey tonight while we don't listen to the radio because 1500AM has entirely too much static and they aren't on 106.7 any longer. (Rotten strike, I hate you.)
Amusing anecdote: There's a homeless colony (for lack of a better word) down on Route 1 just before the Burger King that now has a mailbox. I know about this colony because a friend of mine tried to join it because they were homeless and she was homeless, except they ran her off. Right fast. The other day, G showed the location to JTA, telling him it was a homeless colony. JTA declared that it wasn't a homeless colony, but instead some sort of government conspiracy. Before you roll your eyes at that one, you should also know that JTA also calls the jet trails you see behind airplanes "chem trails" because there's a government conspiracy to poison and kill everyone by spewing chemicals out of the engines of those big planes. Yeah, really. No, it isn't always possible to be around him, but I will tell you that it's kind of interesting having your own personal whackadoodle around.
Saturday, April 13, 2013
Annoyances
So I've been, essentially, kicked out of Gartlan because I'm not sick enough. Yeah, sure, whatever. It really annoys me sometimes that people don't believe I am mentally ill just because I don't look like I am. Seriously, we look like everyone else until we start talking to walls (and we only talk to the walls because the walls talk to us). For those of us who don't talk to walls, this is really irritating because I cover extremely well so people see what they want to see and don't see the me who might be having a horrible day.
Or because my hospitalizations didn't start until this past August, so I'm not really depressed, right? Wrong. I was having severe panic attacks at the age of six. Go ahead, tell me I didn't learn to cope with the depression until Mark's illness made it so that I couldn't cope any longer.
It is truly off-pissing.
Or because my hospitalizations didn't start until this past August, so I'm not really depressed, right? Wrong. I was having severe panic attacks at the age of six. Go ahead, tell me I didn't learn to cope with the depression until Mark's illness made it so that I couldn't cope any longer.
It is truly off-pissing.
Thursday, April 4, 2013
You have to wonder...
I was told a couple months ago that someone wanted to be friends with me until one of us died. And said person hasn't spoken to me, or has barely acknowledged my existence, for the last couple of months. In fact, he has barely spoken to me since the last time I saw him at the end of January. Sometimes I feel as though I shouldn't be nearly as trusting as I am. Gee, I wonder why.
And I had a whackadoodle moment today!!!
It wasn't directed at me personally, but instead affected an entire bus full of people. I got on the bus at my stop, like I usually do. Paid my fare, sat down and hoped we'd be at Ladson Lane before the next bus I needed to catch (we were, so that's all good). This woman gets up from her seat and pulls the cord to request the next stop. We get there and she says, "oh no, not this one, the next one." Ummm... okay. We get to the next stop and she doesn't get off. She had to be informed a couple of times that this was the last stop before Ladson Lane. The bus driver closes the doors, opens the doors, closes the doors and the woman finally says that she's going to WalMart. Ummm... that's two more stops, not a total of one, or two, but a minimum of four. I wish people would learn to count or at least have a clue where they're going instead of making us stop needlessly at every single stop while they figure it out.
And I had a whackadoodle moment today!!!
It wasn't directed at me personally, but instead affected an entire bus full of people. I got on the bus at my stop, like I usually do. Paid my fare, sat down and hoped we'd be at Ladson Lane before the next bus I needed to catch (we were, so that's all good). This woman gets up from her seat and pulls the cord to request the next stop. We get there and she says, "oh no, not this one, the next one." Ummm... okay. We get to the next stop and she doesn't get off. She had to be informed a couple of times that this was the last stop before Ladson Lane. The bus driver closes the doors, opens the doors, closes the doors and the woman finally says that she's going to WalMart. Ummm... that's two more stops, not a total of one, or two, but a minimum of four. I wish people would learn to count or at least have a clue where they're going instead of making us stop needlessly at every single stop while they figure it out.
Monday, April 1, 2013
Been a while...
Why, yes, it has been a while...
What can I say, I've been a tad preoccupied with my real life, such as it is.
However, I went to Old Towne with G on Friday and we stopped in at fibre space and it turned into old home week. G was an incredibly good sport about that and I really appreciate it. I was also informed that I have to keep blogging because not blogging makes people worry. So very sorry about that. Really don't make people worry on purpose. It's purely accidental.
And I had a lovely birthday this weekend, brought to me by G himself. I don't know what I'd do without that man.
Even JTA may have redeemed himself by buying me three (yes, three) balls of Rowan Lima in the colorway Chile. Now that is some serious scrumptiousness on my fingers and I adore the braided construction. And it's so much better than the novelty stuff he got me at the thrift store. However, I may have to explain the concept of aging in stash to him because he feels I should have already started knitting with it.
Now I'm off to look up baby sweaters because my wonderful cousin has requested one for her granddaughter's soon-to-be son. Plus I need to finish up my Heart Quilt baby blanket and that is a pain because the instructions aren't quite right. Darned good thing I know how to re-interpret these things, huh?
Have I mentioned that I don't know what I'd do without G? Yeah, because I really don't.
What can I say, I've been a tad preoccupied with my real life, such as it is.
However, I went to Old Towne with G on Friday and we stopped in at fibre space and it turned into old home week. G was an incredibly good sport about that and I really appreciate it. I was also informed that I have to keep blogging because not blogging makes people worry. So very sorry about that. Really don't make people worry on purpose. It's purely accidental.
And I had a lovely birthday this weekend, brought to me by G himself. I don't know what I'd do without that man.
Even JTA may have redeemed himself by buying me three (yes, three) balls of Rowan Lima in the colorway Chile. Now that is some serious scrumptiousness on my fingers and I adore the braided construction. And it's so much better than the novelty stuff he got me at the thrift store. However, I may have to explain the concept of aging in stash to him because he feels I should have already started knitting with it.
Now I'm off to look up baby sweaters because my wonderful cousin has requested one for her granddaughter's soon-to-be son. Plus I need to finish up my Heart Quilt baby blanket and that is a pain because the instructions aren't quite right. Darned good thing I know how to re-interpret these things, huh?
Have I mentioned that I don't know what I'd do without G? Yeah, because I really don't.
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