I started this as a response to S*, and then it exploded out of the petrie dish and squidged across the floor, eating a lab assistant on its way out of the reinforced doors. (Don't worry, Larry died bravely.)
To quote;
Well where were you back when I hit puberty? :D
Let me make myself clear; my blog is the place I come to do process. So what you see here is me in transition. I'm not looking for excuses to stay the way I am -- I blog to help myself move forward.
All the "stop pitying yourself and move on" is helping, but not enough. I get it that I need to move on with my life. That's why I'm blogging, because I know that.
What I think would help me a little more is to hear something more specific as to how to move on. That is also why I go to therapy. I need a "how to". It's funny in a not-really kind of way, but if I had a patient who came to me with my problem, I'd be able to think it through better for him than I can for myself. Either that, or I'd refer the guy out to another therapist.
Another thing I want to make clear is that I'm not content to pity myself. Pity is not what I want from anyone or from myself.
What I'm looking for is strength. I want the thing that seems to get inside of most people and propels them into relationships, for better or worse.
To that end, I am using the good examples that have been coming into my life in the form of
heroes. <--This link will take you to my more postive process of acknowledging strength so that I may try to acquire it.
When I have less than stellar days, and when I can't find the mechanism to bridge the gap between what I am and what I see in my heroes, I come here to get it out of my system.
But I will tell you something else I got from my therapist--she said that maybe I should just pretend I have the qualities that I'm looking for until I feel like I actually have them. She also suggested that maybe that was how my heroes got to where they are too.
What do you guys think? Is that a "how to"? I'd really like your responses to this one.
Showing posts with label Blind Hero. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Blind Hero. Show all posts
Monday, June 18, 2007
Tuesday, May 8, 2007
I Shouldn't Be Writing
(Originally 12/25/06, Christmas Day)
Merry Christmass All! The title is a nod to Mur Lafferty, a friend of Evo's who stopped by a few days ago, and a friend of alex's too (they were NaNoWriMo buddies).
I say I shouldn't be writing because it's Christmas and I'm in the city and I should be out enjoying the town.
Well, I have, and I may do so again, but I have nothing specific to do out there. The view from the room is exceptional this time, I must say. I'm on the 37th floor, overlooking the Ziegfeld Theater. Check the link, note the address. I'm in the Hilton on the block south of the theater. In-Room Dining menu tells me that I can get a Turkey Club sandwich for 21.95--I kid you not. I'll pass. I'm not in the mood to fund Paris' new sex tape. Not to mention what kind of tip I would supposed to leave? That would have to be some serious post-coital bliss to prevent me from going downstairs and getting the same sandwich to-go for 8 bucks.
My Blind Hero sent me an e-mail Christmas card but he hasn't called me to hook up with him. I guess he changed his mind, or found another offer. I don't feel particularly saddened by that. I'm happy that I said yes and was open to him coming. That, for me, is progress.
So, yeah, I'm a little lonely, but not overmuch. My Friend The Doctor called earlier when I was downtown eating Coldstone Ice Cream in the Village. He forgot to call me earlier in the week to check up on me, but that was okay too. I owe him a lot already and he's always there when I need him, so he needn't feel bad. If I hadn't any plans, he'd have been sped-dialed.
So, a few blocks north of here is an apartment building and I can see them in their homes. At most I can see about five families at any given time. i swear I wish i had a set of binoculars so I could see details. But more than that, I wish I knew who they were and how they're living in that building. This is between 6th & 7th avenues, 55th st, I estimate. and since I'm on the 37th floor, they have to be living between 35-45th floors of that deluxe highrise. From my time as a real estate agent (its crazy to type that, but I still hold a NY license for real estate. Go figure) I would expect these people to be paying anywhere between $3500-$5000/month rent. And if they own, the units would have gone for millions, easy. And then the monthly "maintenance" would still be a few thou per month.
But may I tell you, my window is crowded with buildings as tall if not taller, than us. And while this Hilton is a narrow little slip of a structure (wasted space really), these residentials are packed out in every nook and cranny with living space. (The more people Mr. Developer can cram into his building, the more money he gets.) So not for the first time I have to ask;
WHO ARE ALL THESE RICH PEOPLE?!!?
I feel like I can never hope to make that kind of money without becoming an actor, singer, or career bestseller author. There aren't that many of them, and if there were, they don't all live here!
So what is going on?
You know that Saturday Night Live skit about what white people do when no one else is around? I swear it must be true. In the banks, when no blacks or Latinos are around. they just be givin' each other money. Don't deny it, white people! You know it's true! On a more serious note, if not less consequential, I saw a commercial on this Hilton Hotel Satellite TV system (flatscreen TVs give off a lot of heat from their screens, BTW!) they keep showing financial planner commercials and all sorts of high-financed based advertizing. They must think every guest is interested in making and keeping a lot of money. And one of these commericals had a bunch of people in different vignettes. One of them was this middle-aged white guy in a suit with a big voice putting his arm around the neck of a younger white man and saying "I want to leave my business to my son!" and I was like "Ah, HAAA!!!! THAT'S how you guys have been doing it for centuries!! Hoard that wealth!!" How many of the Hilton neighbors (Paris being a prime example) are just beneficiaries of their parents and great-grandparents' wealth? Living off trust funds and the bank account interest that pays their monthly housing expenses?
Well, I currently am doing the exact same thing. I'm reaping the benefit of a two-night stay in a posh midtown hotel, overlooking Manhattan, a sliver of the Hudson River to my left and a sliver of a de-leafed Central Park straight ahead, because of My Benefactor's parent's wealth. We none of us deserve it, but I hope the neighbors are at least as half as grateful right now as I am. This is a really nice opportunity and I'm not going to let jealousy and spite take it away from me.
Happy Holidays to the rich people as well as the poor! "God bless us all, every one!"
Merry Christmass All! The title is a nod to Mur Lafferty, a friend of Evo's who stopped by a few days ago, and a friend of alex's too (they were NaNoWriMo buddies).
I say I shouldn't be writing because it's Christmas and I'm in the city and I should be out enjoying the town.
Well, I have, and I may do so again, but I have nothing specific to do out there. The view from the room is exceptional this time, I must say. I'm on the 37th floor, overlooking the Ziegfeld Theater. Check the link, note the address. I'm in the Hilton on the block south of the theater. In-Room Dining menu tells me that I can get a Turkey Club sandwich for 21.95--I kid you not. I'll pass. I'm not in the mood to fund Paris' new sex tape. Not to mention what kind of tip I would supposed to leave? That would have to be some serious post-coital bliss to prevent me from going downstairs and getting the same sandwich to-go for 8 bucks.
My Blind Hero sent me an e-mail Christmas card but he hasn't called me to hook up with him. I guess he changed his mind, or found another offer. I don't feel particularly saddened by that. I'm happy that I said yes and was open to him coming. That, for me, is progress.
So, yeah, I'm a little lonely, but not overmuch. My Friend The Doctor called earlier when I was downtown eating Coldstone Ice Cream in the Village. He forgot to call me earlier in the week to check up on me, but that was okay too. I owe him a lot already and he's always there when I need him, so he needn't feel bad. If I hadn't any plans, he'd have been sped-dialed.
So, a few blocks north of here is an apartment building and I can see them in their homes. At most I can see about five families at any given time. i swear I wish i had a set of binoculars so I could see details. But more than that, I wish I knew who they were and how they're living in that building. This is between 6th & 7th avenues, 55th st, I estimate. and since I'm on the 37th floor, they have to be living between 35-45th floors of that deluxe highrise. From my time as a real estate agent (its crazy to type that, but I still hold a NY license for real estate. Go figure) I would expect these people to be paying anywhere between $3500-$5000/month rent. And if they own, the units would have gone for millions, easy. And then the monthly "maintenance" would still be a few thou per month.
But may I tell you, my window is crowded with buildings as tall if not taller, than us. And while this Hilton is a narrow little slip of a structure (wasted space really), these residentials are packed out in every nook and cranny with living space. (The more people Mr. Developer can cram into his building, the more money he gets.) So not for the first time I have to ask;
WHO ARE ALL THESE RICH PEOPLE?!!?
I feel like I can never hope to make that kind of money without becoming an actor, singer, or career bestseller author. There aren't that many of them, and if there were, they don't all live here!
So what is going on?
You know that Saturday Night Live skit about what white people do when no one else is around? I swear it must be true. In the banks, when no blacks or Latinos are around. they just be givin' each other money. Don't deny it, white people! You know it's true! On a more serious note, if not less consequential, I saw a commercial on this Hilton Hotel Satellite TV system (flatscreen TVs give off a lot of heat from their screens, BTW!) they keep showing financial planner commercials and all sorts of high-financed based advertizing. They must think every guest is interested in making and keeping a lot of money. And one of these commericals had a bunch of people in different vignettes. One of them was this middle-aged white guy in a suit with a big voice putting his arm around the neck of a younger white man and saying "I want to leave my business to my son!" and I was like "Ah, HAAA!!!! THAT'S how you guys have been doing it for centuries!! Hoard that wealth!!" How many of the Hilton neighbors (Paris being a prime example) are just beneficiaries of their parents and great-grandparents' wealth? Living off trust funds and the bank account interest that pays their monthly housing expenses?
Well, I currently am doing the exact same thing. I'm reaping the benefit of a two-night stay in a posh midtown hotel, overlooking Manhattan, a sliver of the Hudson River to my left and a sliver of a de-leafed Central Park straight ahead, because of My Benefactor's parent's wealth. We none of us deserve it, but I hope the neighbors are at least as half as grateful right now as I am. This is a really nice opportunity and I'm not going to let jealousy and spite take it away from me.
Happy Holidays to the rich people as well as the poor! "God bless us all, every one!"
My Date With Grim Jester
(Originally 12/23/06)
Heehee. He'd hate that I was posting this.
But I will say that he took me out today to eat at a pretty nice seafood joint in a part of NYC that I'd say belonged in a Stephen King novel. I expected Colm Feore any moment to appear on the streets and tell us all "Give me want I want, and I'll go away."
He is one of the new rounds of ammunition in my holster that I am using to fight back the holiday blahs. Our relationship is usually adversarial, because he's just that kind of guy, but he's also a major reason why I lost 25 lbs, and why I survived my eviction from NYC. When I let him know that I'm really hurting, even if he's the cause of it, he has always comes through for me. Seeing that part of him makes all the jousting worth it.
Now here's a bit of a surprise -- and I think this happened last year too. My Benefactor gave me two nights in his time share holiday spot in NYC. Christmas Eve and Christmas Night. He didn't want to see the year's allotments go to waste. He also claims he's remained sober these two months and I haven't the heart to call him a liar to his face, or even through the floorboards. I, in fact, hope it's true but I don't think so. Nevertheless, I'm staying in the city over the holiday.
And lastly, my Blind Hero called me up the other night and asked what my plans were for the holiday, and when I told him, he solicited an invite to the holiday spot. His family is all in another country, and he lost his father some months ago, so I know he'd be lonely if I didn't get with him on Christmas. But you know what? So would I. Not to mention My Hero, My Hero The Cop, The Grim Jester, My Freind The Doctor, and My Mentor have been modeling friendship for me like a pantheon from Olympus. Because of them, I didn't feel right turning away my Blind Hero when he needed me.
I hope nobody reading this is alone for Christmas either.
Cheers!
Heehee. He'd hate that I was posting this.
But I will say that he took me out today to eat at a pretty nice seafood joint in a part of NYC that I'd say belonged in a Stephen King novel. I expected Colm Feore any moment to appear on the streets and tell us all "Give me want I want, and I'll go away."
He is one of the new rounds of ammunition in my holster that I am using to fight back the holiday blahs. Our relationship is usually adversarial, because he's just that kind of guy, but he's also a major reason why I lost 25 lbs, and why I survived my eviction from NYC. When I let him know that I'm really hurting, even if he's the cause of it, he has always comes through for me. Seeing that part of him makes all the jousting worth it.
Now here's a bit of a surprise -- and I think this happened last year too. My Benefactor gave me two nights in his time share holiday spot in NYC. Christmas Eve and Christmas Night. He didn't want to see the year's allotments go to waste. He also claims he's remained sober these two months and I haven't the heart to call him a liar to his face, or even through the floorboards. I, in fact, hope it's true but I don't think so. Nevertheless, I'm staying in the city over the holiday.
And lastly, my Blind Hero called me up the other night and asked what my plans were for the holiday, and when I told him, he solicited an invite to the holiday spot. His family is all in another country, and he lost his father some months ago, so I know he'd be lonely if I didn't get with him on Christmas. But you know what? So would I. Not to mention My Hero, My Hero The Cop, The Grim Jester, My Freind The Doctor, and My Mentor have been modeling friendship for me like a pantheon from Olympus. Because of them, I didn't feel right turning away my Blind Hero when he needed me.
I hope nobody reading this is alone for Christmas either.
Cheers!
Monday, May 7, 2007
What. A. Day.
(Originally July 25 2006)
Chain of events;
7/21/06 My car's transmission stops working in Moorestown, NJ, 2 hours south of where I live. A nearby mechanic tells me he saw me struggling with the car and it would take 1695.00 to get a new transmission. He closes on the weekend, so I would have to speak to him on Monday about what I wanted to do with the car. It takes me six hours to get home by a bus, a train, and another bus, with a bunch of walking in between. The trip costs about $60.00.
7/22/06 Decided it was time to get a new car because I wouldn't have enough money to replace the transmission, and that car has no air conditioning anyway. Plus it is a castoff from My Benefactor and I don't like him very much, and I no longer trust the car. I went to a Toyota dealer and made a deal to purchase a new used Toyota, left 600.00 as down payment. They said they had to get me a loan from a bank, and that I would get a call later that day to tell me when I got the loan. At 5:00PM I get a call from the salesman telling me the paperwork was put in and they'd have an answer by Monday.
7/24/06
9:30AM, The salesman calls me to ask me to come in and show them my paystubs from the last few weeks for them to fax to a bank. I get my stubs and leave for the bus.
9:45AM, The Moorestown, NJ Repairman calls me to say the transmission only had some leaks and it will cost about $300.00 to fix. I tell him I'll call him back.
10:00AM While on the bus I put two calls out, one to My Friend The Doctor, and one to My Hero. MFTD calls be back. He talks me down off the ledge of financial commitment and helps me re-realize that I'm impetuous and that I'm acting out, trying to get control in a world that keeps robbing me of it. I decide it is best for me to pay the repairs instead of giving the down payment away and then trying to pay 340.00 a month for the next five years while I'm also trying to repay all my current debts. I'm depressed but I'm determined.
11:00AM I arrive at the dealer and tell them I didn't have to buy a new transmission and that I won't be needing the car. The salesman tells me that the 'loan guy' had gotten me approved and that they really only have to give me my deposit back if they can't get me a loan. The salesman says neither he nor the 'loan guy' can refund my money, but only the Used-Car manager can make that decision and he's not at work yet because he hurt his back in a traffic accident while on his motorcycle, so he'd be in later after he returns from the doctor. I'm still depressed.
12:00PM I get in touch with My Hero and finally tell him what I haven't told him in all the years I've known and loved him. (1992-Present; See contents of previous post to see what I told him. I don't know if I ever told you guys about him, but I'll go into detail at a later date).
1:30PM The salesperson still hasn't called me. It is now too late to go down to Moorestown to retrieve my car, and I don't have enough in my checking accounts to pay the repairman anyway because I gave the bulk of it to the car dealer to buy the new car. I call the salesman. He says the Used-Car manager is at work now, and he'll have to speak to the Owner.
1:45PM, I call my boss and tell him I have to take another day off work because I have to go to Moorestown tomorrow and get my car.
5:30PM I have not heard from anyone at the dealer. I call and get the Used-Car Manager. He asks me why I don't want the car, I tell him the same story I told the salesman. He tells me that because they got me the loan, they really don't have to refund my money, but he would speak to the Owner and have the salesman call me back tomorrow.
7/25/06
6:30AM; I get up to go to NYC, then to Philadelphia, then to Moorestown, NJ to get my fixed car. This costs another $60.00.
9:30AM while on the train to Philly I call the dealership and find that my salesman is off work on Tuesdays. I speak to the Used-Car manager and he says "Exactly, I'll have to speak to the Owner today and find out what he wants to do."
11:00AM I reach the Repairman's garage and he doesn't take checks. I try to run my debit card and it is declined. I cannot pay for my repair, and I cannot take the repaired car home. I call the car dealership to see if the Used-Car manager has spoken to the Owner yet. The Used-car manager sound peturbed. He tells me, "He's not in yet and I told you I'd call you when I spoke to him." I go to the nearby Barnes & Noble to decompress and strategize. I go into a bank along the way and try to get a personal loan. Telling the woman my story makes me feel like a crazy homeless person begging for a quarter. Instant repayment of the loan (read: repayment as soon as I get a paycheck, instead of holding on to the money for anything OTHER THAN the repair) will cost $100.00 extra, besides the interest. The loan is denied anyway. My credit score is too low/high/miserable.
12:00PM I drink a Pomegranate Tea Frappucino sweetened with whatever tart mixture they blend, plus two packets of Equal. It then tastes as good as a Strawberry Coolatta from Dunkin Donuts but I doubt it has the same sugar content. I read The second Legion of Superheroes trade paperback (They got revamped for the 4th or 5th time since the good ol' days of the 70's). I call My Friend The Doctor and give him an update. MFTD calls the repairman's garage to find out if he can pay for me through a credit card. They tell him the boss is out to lunch. MFTD will call back after lunch. I read the comicbook (for free, and thank you B&N for the service).
1:30PM MFTD calls the repairman, then wires me the money through Western Union. The repairman tells him that I need to go "right around the corner from his shop" to pick the money up. I walk back to the shop, then end up going a 1/2 hour up a highway, (across 295) to find out the Western Union dealer (a Greyhound Bus stop) doesn't have enough money to pay out the transfer. But I'm told by the Greyhound woman (whose two front teeth were stained with nicotine) that I could get the money from any Western Union agent, and there's one at the ShopRite in Moorestown. This ShopRite is ACROSS THE STREET from the repairman. I walk another 1/2 hour back and get the money.
Somehow, it's now 4:00PM. I drive my car away. I go back north up 295 then Route One all the way from Trenton to the Garden State Parkway. The sight of the old territory fills me with a strange nostalgia. I used to drive that stretch when I lived in Trenton (just before I started my first blog) and attended Rutgers for the 2 credits to get my New Jersey Counselor's license, where I met my Sightless Friend. Then I drove it to work with my Sightless Friend for money, when he used to live in New Brunswick (back then he was my Sightless Client, but since I've quit, he's my Friend. I have mentioned him several times already).
6:30PM I reach "home". I call the dealership. The Used-Car manager has gone home for the day. He left at 5:00 I'm told. I ask if the Owner is there. They give me a voicemail. I call back to find out if the Owner had been there at all today. I'm told he was there, and that he left around 5:00. I ask what schedule I can expect to use if I want to reach him. I'm told around 9am -5pm. I ask if that's when the Owner was there today. I'm told yes. The Owner was there all day.
8:43PM I finish writing this entry on my blog. I congradulate myself for not committing suicide. I don't know if the dealership will ever give me my money. I will not get angry, but I will file a lawsuit against them. I did not purchase the car so why should they get to keep a down payment for something they did not sell? They strung me along wil a bunch of stall tactics and flat out lies. I think I have a case. I will include whatever court charges it takes to sue them. I will not use a lawyer. If I lose, I lose. I will still not commit suicide.
8:44PM; I click "Send"
Chain of events;
7/21/06 My car's transmission stops working in Moorestown, NJ, 2 hours south of where I live. A nearby mechanic tells me he saw me struggling with the car and it would take 1695.00 to get a new transmission. He closes on the weekend, so I would have to speak to him on Monday about what I wanted to do with the car. It takes me six hours to get home by a bus, a train, and another bus, with a bunch of walking in between. The trip costs about $60.00.
7/22/06 Decided it was time to get a new car because I wouldn't have enough money to replace the transmission, and that car has no air conditioning anyway. Plus it is a castoff from My Benefactor and I don't like him very much, and I no longer trust the car. I went to a Toyota dealer and made a deal to purchase a new used Toyota, left 600.00 as down payment. They said they had to get me a loan from a bank, and that I would get a call later that day to tell me when I got the loan. At 5:00PM I get a call from the salesman telling me the paperwork was put in and they'd have an answer by Monday.
7/24/06
9:30AM, The salesman calls me to ask me to come in and show them my paystubs from the last few weeks for them to fax to a bank. I get my stubs and leave for the bus.
9:45AM, The Moorestown, NJ Repairman calls me to say the transmission only had some leaks and it will cost about $300.00 to fix. I tell him I'll call him back.
10:00AM While on the bus I put two calls out, one to My Friend The Doctor, and one to My Hero. MFTD calls be back. He talks me down off the ledge of financial commitment and helps me re-realize that I'm impetuous and that I'm acting out, trying to get control in a world that keeps robbing me of it. I decide it is best for me to pay the repairs instead of giving the down payment away and then trying to pay 340.00 a month for the next five years while I'm also trying to repay all my current debts. I'm depressed but I'm determined.
11:00AM I arrive at the dealer and tell them I didn't have to buy a new transmission and that I won't be needing the car. The salesman tells me that the 'loan guy' had gotten me approved and that they really only have to give me my deposit back if they can't get me a loan. The salesman says neither he nor the 'loan guy' can refund my money, but only the Used-Car manager can make that decision and he's not at work yet because he hurt his back in a traffic accident while on his motorcycle, so he'd be in later after he returns from the doctor. I'm still depressed.
12:00PM I get in touch with My Hero and finally tell him what I haven't told him in all the years I've known and loved him. (1992-Present; See contents of previous post to see what I told him. I don't know if I ever told you guys about him, but I'll go into detail at a later date).
1:30PM The salesperson still hasn't called me. It is now too late to go down to Moorestown to retrieve my car, and I don't have enough in my checking accounts to pay the repairman anyway because I gave the bulk of it to the car dealer to buy the new car. I call the salesman. He says the Used-Car manager is at work now, and he'll have to speak to the Owner.
1:45PM, I call my boss and tell him I have to take another day off work because I have to go to Moorestown tomorrow and get my car.
5:30PM I have not heard from anyone at the dealer. I call and get the Used-Car Manager. He asks me why I don't want the car, I tell him the same story I told the salesman. He tells me that because they got me the loan, they really don't have to refund my money, but he would speak to the Owner and have the salesman call me back tomorrow.
7/25/06
6:30AM; I get up to go to NYC, then to Philadelphia, then to Moorestown, NJ to get my fixed car. This costs another $60.00.
9:30AM while on the train to Philly I call the dealership and find that my salesman is off work on Tuesdays. I speak to the Used-Car manager and he says "Exactly, I'll have to speak to the Owner today and find out what he wants to do."
11:00AM I reach the Repairman's garage and he doesn't take checks. I try to run my debit card and it is declined. I cannot pay for my repair, and I cannot take the repaired car home. I call the car dealership to see if the Used-Car manager has spoken to the Owner yet. The Used-car manager sound peturbed. He tells me, "He's not in yet and I told you I'd call you when I spoke to him." I go to the nearby Barnes & Noble to decompress and strategize. I go into a bank along the way and try to get a personal loan. Telling the woman my story makes me feel like a crazy homeless person begging for a quarter. Instant repayment of the loan (read: repayment as soon as I get a paycheck, instead of holding on to the money for anything OTHER THAN the repair) will cost $100.00 extra, besides the interest. The loan is denied anyway. My credit score is too low/high/miserable.
12:00PM I drink a Pomegranate Tea Frappucino sweetened with whatever tart mixture they blend, plus two packets of Equal. It then tastes as good as a Strawberry Coolatta from Dunkin Donuts but I doubt it has the same sugar content. I read The second Legion of Superheroes trade paperback (They got revamped for the 4th or 5th time since the good ol' days of the 70's). I call My Friend The Doctor and give him an update. MFTD calls the repairman's garage to find out if he can pay for me through a credit card. They tell him the boss is out to lunch. MFTD will call back after lunch. I read the comicbook (for free, and thank you B&N for the service).
1:30PM MFTD calls the repairman, then wires me the money through Western Union. The repairman tells him that I need to go "right around the corner from his shop" to pick the money up. I walk back to the shop, then end up going a 1/2 hour up a highway, (across 295) to find out the Western Union dealer (a Greyhound Bus stop) doesn't have enough money to pay out the transfer. But I'm told by the Greyhound woman (whose two front teeth were stained with nicotine) that I could get the money from any Western Union agent, and there's one at the ShopRite in Moorestown. This ShopRite is ACROSS THE STREET from the repairman. I walk another 1/2 hour back and get the money.
Somehow, it's now 4:00PM. I drive my car away. I go back north up 295 then Route One all the way from Trenton to the Garden State Parkway. The sight of the old territory fills me with a strange nostalgia. I used to drive that stretch when I lived in Trenton (just before I started my first blog) and attended Rutgers for the 2 credits to get my New Jersey Counselor's license, where I met my Sightless Friend. Then I drove it to work with my Sightless Friend for money, when he used to live in New Brunswick (back then he was my Sightless Client, but since I've quit, he's my Friend. I have mentioned him several times already).
6:30PM I reach "home". I call the dealership. The Used-Car manager has gone home for the day. He left at 5:00 I'm told. I ask if the Owner is there. They give me a voicemail. I call back to find out if the Owner had been there at all today. I'm told he was there, and that he left around 5:00. I ask what schedule I can expect to use if I want to reach him. I'm told around 9am -5pm. I ask if that's when the Owner was there today. I'm told yes. The Owner was there all day.
8:43PM I finish writing this entry on my blog. I congradulate myself for not committing suicide. I don't know if the dealership will ever give me my money. I will not get angry, but I will file a lawsuit against them. I did not purchase the car so why should they get to keep a down payment for something they did not sell? They strung me along wil a bunch of stall tactics and flat out lies. I think I have a case. I will include whatever court charges it takes to sue them. I will not use a lawyer. If I lose, I lose. I will still not commit suicide.
8:44PM; I click "Send"
Next up....
(Originally July 7 2006)
I was recontacted by Valentine's Day Girl. Which I guess would be V-Day of 2003?
It's crazy. Just the kindness of an e-mail, with nothing overt or forward, can feel nice. I'm not sure why my hackles didn't raise and my paranoia didn't launch into orbit. I think the months that followed after that V-Da with tentative contact, then a lunch here or there was nice. The attention was nice. Then I detached as usual and there were no "How Come You Didn't CALL Me"s.
So I think I'll send a reply. It's not like I have anything special to tell her, but since it was nice to receive, so shall I freely give.
Well I'm just having all sorts of a good weekend, huh?
Breakfast--Pineapple Coconut Protein Shake Blended at the gym, One 16 oz. bottle of water.
Lunch--Three Scrambled Eggs, One pat of butter, Three Parks Sausage links
Afternoon Snack--Labrada Hi Protein Honey Almond Bar (protein and controlled-sugary goodness), Cold 16 oz bottle of water.
Dinner--Three sushi rolls (not the small ones but fancy restaurant ones, Tuna, Salmon Skin, and California), Lobster Soup (more like Lobster Cantonese Sauce with bigger chunks of lobster claw meat), a few fried noodles and dips of duck sauce.
Dinner was courtesy of my sightless friend in Woodbridge who lost his father a few weeks ago. He's the guy I used to work for as an aide detailed in my old blog. He wants to fill up with weekend with distractions so he doesn't get depressed, but I'd rather he faced it and processed. So I visit him and take him out and he buys my dinner--and since's he's an hour away, I do my share by paying for the gas. Then I wind up telling him about my experiences with the respective deaths of my parents in hopes to help him get some perspective.
My bottomline with him is, The world SUCKS and God knows it, which is why He died on the cross and indwells with us as the Holy Spirit--to help us survive the trip to Paradise. Meanwhile, people we love will die, others will be sick and afflicted, marriages will continue to break up, etc. If ever someone finds themselves happy in this world, THAT'S the miracle from God and it should be cherished.
Don't worry, I'm a much more objective therapist than I am a theologian. ;-)
I was recontacted by Valentine's Day Girl. Which I guess would be V-Day of 2003?
It's crazy. Just the kindness of an e-mail, with nothing overt or forward, can feel nice. I'm not sure why my hackles didn't raise and my paranoia didn't launch into orbit. I think the months that followed after that V-Da with tentative contact, then a lunch here or there was nice. The attention was nice. Then I detached as usual and there were no "How Come You Didn't CALL Me"s.
So I think I'll send a reply. It's not like I have anything special to tell her, but since it was nice to receive, so shall I freely give.
Well I'm just having all sorts of a good weekend, huh?
Breakfast--Pineapple Coconut Protein Shake Blended at the gym, One 16 oz. bottle of water.
Lunch--Three Scrambled Eggs, One pat of butter, Three Parks Sausage links
Afternoon Snack--Labrada Hi Protein Honey Almond Bar (protein and controlled-sugary goodness), Cold 16 oz bottle of water.
Dinner--Three sushi rolls (not the small ones but fancy restaurant ones, Tuna, Salmon Skin, and California), Lobster Soup (more like Lobster Cantonese Sauce with bigger chunks of lobster claw meat), a few fried noodles and dips of duck sauce.
Dinner was courtesy of my sightless friend in Woodbridge who lost his father a few weeks ago. He's the guy I used to work for as an aide detailed in my old blog. He wants to fill up with weekend with distractions so he doesn't get depressed, but I'd rather he faced it and processed. So I visit him and take him out and he buys my dinner--and since's he's an hour away, I do my share by paying for the gas. Then I wind up telling him about my experiences with the respective deaths of my parents in hopes to help him get some perspective.
My bottomline with him is, The world SUCKS and God knows it, which is why He died on the cross and indwells with us as the Holy Spirit--to help us survive the trip to Paradise. Meanwhile, people we love will die, others will be sick and afflicted, marriages will continue to break up, etc. If ever someone finds themselves happy in this world, THAT'S the miracle from God and it should be cherished.
Don't worry, I'm a much more objective therapist than I am a theologian. ;-)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)