Microfleece Cape; Avatar Braids; Puppet-Operator Conflict

Not much time today. The library is closing early because we're still in the holidays. I'm just writing random small things for now.

I tried making my own coat. I hate synthetic microfleece. So it was the perfect material to use for making my own coat, if it's going to become contaminated and I'll have to get rid of it and it's only experimental. I bought two yards of charcoal gray microfleece and wrapped it over my head like a hood and wore it like a cape. It sort of worked but the cape wasn't closed enough and the wind kept blowing it open. I pinned it shut with a safety pin. It was a minimal labor coat - no sewing needed, just a big rectangular piece of fabric, no sleeves.

I didn't wear it much - I wore it while walking from my car to the door of Wal-Mart, where I took it off and put it into my shopping cart. I felt embarrassed wearing it. It was basically like wrapping a blanket around myself and walking around outside. Then, I wore it into Barnes & Noble, and I actually wore it indoors. A little girl, maybe 8 or 9 years old, grinned at me, probably because I looked like I was coming from a Harry Potter costume party or something. It blew back in the wind when I walked and it was kind of like Professor Snape's cloak. It looked dramatic and it was attention-getting. I felt self-conscious and I had to tell myself to relax, slow down, look people in the eye, and act like everything was normal. Yes, I felt like an idiot, but I sensed that this cape thing had potential, if I could improve the design.

A coat has to be practical - it has to actually give warmth. So when it's blowing open in the wind, that's a problem that has to be fixed. I needed some way to keep it shut, and I only pinned it at the neck with a single safety pin, after making a little bit of a hood to pull over my head. It either needs more pins in the right places, or a belt, or strings, or something. Also, you don't want to walk around delicate, breakable objects, or lit candles or anything that's on fire, if you have a long loose piece of fabric hanging and blowing around while you walk.

I'd like to have a group of friends walking around with me wearing our cloaks or capes or whatever they would be called, and they would be well designed and practical and durable, while also being dramatic and noticeable. If they're designed well enough to be practical and functional, you don't feel like as much of an idiot.

I saw Avatar. I arrived too late to see the 2D version so I went to the 3D version even though I didn't want to. I didn't want to see the 3D version because I thought that it would be so disorienting and disturbing that I wouldn't be able to pay attention to the movie. But after I got used to it, I was able to relax and it wasn't so bad.

I was at the Premiere Theatre by the mall, and in that one, I get some kind of dizziness in my head which is very uncomfortable and numbing. It is radio or subsonics, or something, and whatever it is, it ruins my enjoyment of the movie and it nauseates me. So I avoid that theatre and I usually try to go to the one on North Atherton Street.

When I read about the 3D glasses, it said that they electronically interact with some kind of system in the theatre. That might explain why there is a radio field or something that disturbs me - it's there to interact with the 3D glasses.

Of course I liked the very long braids on the aliens - I don't even need to mention it. My braid is not quite that long. I also liked the idea of primitive people living in a forested area - I am always reading about primitive tribes and other cultures. I don't have time to talk in any detail about the movie, but I have to mention one thing that was missing.

They didn't get into the conflict between the puppets and their operators. If you have a real animal with a fully functioning brain, and this animal is alive, and you're going to control it by going into its brain and seeing out through its eyes, it's still something that's alive all by itself. It shouldn't just drop down and fall asleep and not be able to wake up. It has its own consciousness, its own feelings, desires, knowledge, thoughts, everything. It has its own soul.

The movie was about a conflict of humans trying to invade and steal the land from a bunch of people, but they didn't even mention how it feels to have your brain invaded and somebody is stealing your body and controlling you from within and suppressing your own soul, taking away the hours of your life. You only got to see the conflict of the external world in that movie and they just didn't even mention a single word about what the avatars might feel like or how they could be somehow fully functional but not have any consciousness of their own. Those questions weren't answered, yet they seem very important to me.

I put up an advertisement asking for housecleaning help. I got attacked by voices afterwards and they told me that I was going to get stalkers. Still, whatever happens, I absolutely have to get help. I can't do all these things by myself, and it starts with housecleaning and other small chores. So there is right now a piece of paper, out there in the real world, with an ad on it asking someone to help me (and get paid).

There has been a recent outbreak of ephedra contamination in my apartment and I knew it would be a couple weeks before I could patch it up. I have to put down some papers to walk on and things like that. I am sure: somebody walked up my steps without taking off their shoes. That is the only way ephedra could have gotten all over my clean papers on the floor.

Ephedra affects me so badly that I start doing unusual things like saying prayers, which I don't usually do. Prayers are something that can happen naturally, even to an atheist, in a moment of terrible stress and fear. It is a 'naturally occurring phenomenon,' a type of meditation, a mind state - even for atheists. So I was lying there trying to sleep, unable to sleep, and saying prayers - I prayed for everyone who has fallen while I struggle to survive - everybody I couldn't help, because I was too overwhelmed by my own problems.

I have phone calls that I never returned, people I let down, people who were 'acquired' during my 'friend acquisition manias' when I'm on drugs and 'THEY' make me believe that I can, and should, acquire lots and lots of new friends that I don't actually have time for, in an unfocused way, so that they want to call me on the phone and want to spend time alone with me and they mistakenly believe that we're going to have sex when that absolutely will never happen, or else female friends who aren't trying to have sex but still they are asking me for my time and my mental energy, while I'm barely surviving. I can think of a long list of people who were 'acquired' because THEY switched me to a 'yes man' type of mania, where I have to say yes to everybody even if I don't actually want to, and I'd rather be conservative and not waste time listening to dozens of other people's problems when I can't help them because I have no resources and I am, once again, barely surviving as it is. They portray me as a superhero who can help everybody and I am NOWHERE NEAR being anything like that (not even when I'm wearing my cape). So I was saying prayers for people who I let down or people whose problems happened while I was struggling to survive and I couldn't help them. This was a drug-induced prayer session but it was still sincere.

Meanwhile, I have one particular person that I really would like to try to be friends with, and it's going very slowly and I'm not writing about it here, but I wrote it in my paper notebook at home. So I am even more reluctant to be talking on the phone to people who I don't want to talk to and helping people who I can't afford to help while I myself am drowning, and I haven't solidified a fragile friendship that could be lost at any second because I have no socially acceptable way to contact this person, yet.

The library is closing...

My life outside of work

Everyone just left the library. I thought it closes at 8:00 tonight? Oh, wait, I hear somebody moving around. It was creepy when everyone just walked out. There's only one person left and it's the librarian, and me.

I only have fifteen minutes, because I spent the first 45 minutes surfing. I could get on again and go another hour.

I had been thinking of writing a post about my life outside the workplace. What happens to me when I leave work? Do I disappear and cease to exist? I feel like most of my time is spent at work and not at home.

The drug contamination problem is the central problem of my outside-work life. It has changed everything I do and it is the reason for all of my strange behaviors. I can describe what it's done.

I moved to my new apartment in Bellefonte. I didn't unpack all my belongings. They are in storage. Why? Because most of them are contaminated with some amount of the drug residue. I have only a few belongings in my apartment, just a couple of basic things needed for survival.

There are some books, papers, and my calculator on the floor. I am having a problem with the calculator. I returned the first one, because the add button was sticking. Now, on my new one, the add button is doing the same thing again. Sometimes I hear voices at the exact moment when the add button sticks, so they could be making it happen, but other times, it happens without hearing voices. I don't want to keep returning and re-buying calculators forever when it's actually caused by an attacker instead of being a fault of the calculator. But I will buy a different brand this time when I return it, and see if it has the same problem. They used to make buttons stick on my Oxygen-8 keyboard when I was playing with Propellerheads Reason, and they would trigger the 'rage' emotion at the same moment that they did this, making me want to kill somebody to stop them from attacking me. They would also make the song I was writing play over and over and over in my head so I couldn't think while trying to write music. So again, the calculator problem might be entirely an attack, or it might be a badly made calculator, and I don't know yet.

But anyway, the calculator, books, and papers are my most visible, obvious possessions, and they are sitting on the floor, not on a table.

I also sleep in a sleeping bag, and not in the bedroom, but in the living room, on the floor. The bedroom is more noisy because it's next to the road, and also, it has a tiny bit of moldy air coming out of an access panel in the closet (don't worry, the mold level is very, very low, and I keep that door closed, so it doesn't get into the rest of the house). I don't have a pillow, because I have thrown so many pillows in the garbage, just like I have to throw blankets and clothing in the garbage when it gets contaminated and won't wash out.

I was trying to explain to someone recently that my life is really strange and it would be hard for me to live with a roommate even though I would love to save $200 a month on my rent by sharing it with someone. I would have to explain all the rules of contamination prevention, and trust my roommate to follow the rules. My car is still contaminated, so my shoes get contaminated, so shoes have to be taken off and left at the bottom of the stairs, for instance.

I have paper covering large areas of the floor. There have been a few tracking incidents where contaminated footprints have gotten on my carpet. I also have lots of garbage bags sitting in the kitchen, because I can't bear to take out the trash when it's this cold outside and I don't have a coat. Why don't I have a coat? Because they're expensive and I keep throwing them in the garbage. They're expensive even from Goodwill. They inevitably get contaminated in my car or when I handle other contaminated belongings.

There is another weird behavior which I could laugh about, because it would seem like a benefit, a good thing instead of a bad thing, about living with me. But it isn't done intentionally to be - I am going to have to wait until I log in again, I have only a minute left here.

Anyway, there is this thing I have tended to do for several years now, for various reasons, and it's not meant to be entertaining or seductive, but other people would think that it was. I usually go around naked all of the time. I am a nudist and I believe that nudity should be no big deal and it shouldn't be seen as explicitly sexual, but people are brainwashed to believe that nakedness is always sexual and this is a BIG DEAL and it's something to get freaked out about.

When I lived at the other apartment, there was a peeping tom who started sending me emails with pictures of naked women in exactly the same position I was in, doing exactly the same thing I had been doing. There were woods behind the house and this person was up in the woods looking in my window. This was someone who thought that naked women were a 'big deal' instead of something normal to take for granted. I hate that attitude. I hated the person who was doing that, and no, they were never arrested, and instead, I got sent to a mental hospital because of that person. This person was freaking out merely because I was naked.

Everybody should be 'allowed,' quote unquote (I don't use the word 'allowed' - it implies that there is some authority figure giving permission, and it implies that their authority is legitimate authority that I respect, instead of a NOT-legitimate authority that I DO NOT respect or accept. The so-called authorities who 'allow' or 'forbid' people to do things are actually murderers, and I do not accept their authority, their use of force, their electronic mind control and other tactics, and yes, it isn't only 'government' doing it, it is also individual murderers, and groups of murderers, and 'official' government murderers - it's not the same people all the time, but a variety of people.) to walk around naked whenever and wherever they want to, outdoors or indoors, in public or in private. It shouldn't be illegal. It shouldn't be shocking, or exciting, or arousing, because people would take it for granted that everybody was naked and it didn't mean anything.

So anyway, I now have more reasons to walk around my apartment naked. When you have to throw clothes in the garbage after they get contaminated, that's even more of an incentive not to wear clothes. I wear them when I leave the house. Contaminated clothes would make me have drug effects all day long, which I don't want to have happening. Also, clothes from Goodwill - and I love Goodwill - but, when you first buy them, they have cooties. Cooties, mange, scabies, the same thing. Itch mites, microscopic, too small to see. They burrow into the skin and cause scratch marks and dots on the skin. The clothes have to be washed before you can wear them. It's not lice. Lice are 'macroscopic.' You can see them. These mites are too small to see. They are also on toilet seats, and all public seats that other people are sitting on, and they are on coats and jackets shared by people at work. (This was funny, I agreed with Britney at Weis when somebody told her she should just use one of the Weis coats when she was taking out the trash with us, and she said, 'Ew!' 'Ew' is because the coats are all dirty, they're used by everybody, and they DO have cooties. I get itch mites on me every time I wear the coats, because everybody shares them.) On public toilets, I either use the toilet seat covers, or I put toilet paper down, or I just crouch above the seat without touching it. The mites get all over the back of your legs and your butt, and then you have to scratch yourself, which is awkward and embarrassing. I am so allergic to them that I will get big red scratches and scars all over the back of my thighs. It's gross and I would not want people seeing all the scratches all over my skin.

Everybody has mange, but only some people are extremely allergic to it. I am one of the people who reacts very badly to mange, and my cuts don't heal, and they get red and infected and turn into scars. So people wouldn't 'catch' mange by touching me, because everyone already has it and it's everywhere. I'm not the only person who has it. But I'm one of the people who breaks out into horrible bleeding cuts and scratches all over my skin because of the allergy and being unable to heal properly.

So this is another reason why I avoid wearing clothes at home. It means I would have to wash all of my Goodwill clothes, and doing laundry is one of the small household chores that I can't bring myself to do when it's ice cold outside, and I don't have a coat, and I'm working five days a week during my temporary-Wednesdays month, December, right now, to prepare for the time off I'm taking in January.

Some of the unconventional or gross behaviors are things that I am doing consciously and deliberately, on purpose. I don't wash or brush my hair anymore, and that's done intentionally. I haven't talked about the experiment that I'm doing with my teeth, because I'm kind of embarrassed about it, but I am doing a grooming experiment that involves teeth. This is based on the assumption: Plaque DOES NOT cause cavities. I am assuming, or testing, the belief that cavities are caused by odontoporosis, the destruction of teeth from within, which is exactly like osteoporosis.

Osteoporosis is caused by synthetic vitamin D which is required by government to be added to all milk products. Synthetic vitamin D is extremely toxic and it should be illegal (if I weren't a libertarian-anarchist and if I went around saying this or that should be illegal). But the government requires this toxic, poisonous substance to be added to our milk. It causes a wide range of health problems that resemble Vitamin D deficiency, when it is actually caused by TOO MUCH of the synthetic type of Vitamin D.

DO NOT EAT SYNTHETIC VITAMINS. 'The Order,' my religion, which doesn't exist yet, and which is temporarily called The Order Retmeishka because it's being described in my blog by that name, but that isn't the permanent name - the Order forbids the use of all synthetic vitamins and minerals added to food or taken in pills. All synthetic vitamins and minerals are forbidden. Yes, the Order is a real religion, and it has only one member, and that is me, and I am not yet compliant with the dietary rules because I don't have help with cooking for myself.

Another problem I'm seeing is iodine in salt. I have a reaction to touching the french fries at McDonald's. It gives me 'thyroid eyes.' My eyes become puffy and swollen in a particular way which is typical for hypothyroid disorders. If you touch french fries a lot, they are covered in iodized salt, and the iodine goes through your skin and messes up your thyroid, causing symptoms resembling hypothyroid disorders. I only eat non-iodized salts like sea salt or kosher salt. People need to know if their local soil contains iodine or not, and if you live in an iodine-poor area, you need to know whether you should CHOOSE to look for foods that contain extra iodine, but iodine SHOULD NOT be UNIVERSALLY added to everybody's salt everywhere, because too much iodine causes thyroid problems. When I work with the french fries for long periods of time at McDonald's - and I'm NOT eating them, I'm only touching them and the equipment, so it's going through my skin - I wake up the next morning with severely puffy eyes. It's not just the salt, it's the iodine also. Some might argue that the salt is going through my skin, and it's only the salt. But I am exhausted and all I do is sleep, which indicates a thyroid problem, and the SHAPE of the puffy eyes resembles myxedema, a thyroid symptom. They get puffy up above the upper lid, and you can push down on the puffiness and leave dents in it which stay dented after you push them (yes, it's disgusting). This thyroid problem is temporary and it only lasts a short time after I have been handling large amounts of salted french fries, like when I work at College Avenue and I am doing nothing but french fries all night long.

Peter's wife has those myxedema thyroid eyes, and my eyes temporarily become shaped exactly like hers. Her thyroid problem is POSSIBLY caused by transdermal exposure to Peter's thyroid drug, Synthroid, a synthetic thyroid hormone which probably causes symptoms of thyroid deficiency (it's only my theory). His son also has the thyroid eyes. According to this theory, their thyroid problems would disappear if she moved to a temporary decontamination house, wearing all new clothing that had never contacted Synthroid, with no carpets and no furniture that had ever touched Synthroid, and if she stopped touching french fries, iodized salt, or anything else that goes through the skin and affects the thyroid. This is only my theory, and if I were able to convince people that this was plausible, it would be so easy to test. All you have to do is test it yourself, for free, and observe the results. Does the thyroid problem disappear when you move to a clean, uncontaminated location and wear all new clothing? Does the myxedema go away and the eyes become less swollen?

With me, it's only the right eye. The left eye is less affected. This is because the right side of my face and the right side of my sinuses are affected by the bisphenol-A plastic dental fillings, which I am going to remove whenever I get some help preparing my own food, so I can eat a diet that won't hurt my cavities. My right sinus became permanently swollen after I got the plastic dental fillings, and my right eye is also now permanently swollen a little bit. It's the one that has the most noticeable myxedema when I get this problem. I also had something like a sty on that eyelid, but I don't know what a sty is and I forgot to research it. It went away on its own. Anyway, whenever I breathe, there is swelling in the sinus that I can hear and feel, above the plastic-fillings teeth. The Order - and yes, it isn't a joke, it's a real religion - is designed to prevent people from ever needing to get dental fillings of any kind at all, and it's designed to support you if you choose to remove your dental fillings or choose not to fill your existing cavities, but instead you choose to modify your diet so that you can tolerate the pain of the cavities and just leave them alone. It assumes that cavities are caused by breakdown from within, which is caused by poisons and malnutrition, although I still wonder about this because certain foods make my cavities get worse temporarily - orange juice, for instance - and then they gradually get better if I stop drinking the orange juice.

I don't know all there is to know about this yet, about how much is caused by destruction from outside versus destruction from inside. I am very, very grateful to Weston Price for observing that facial deformities and jaw deformities are caused by particular types of malnutrition and poisons. I want to prevent the jaw deformity in my children, if possible. It might work, and it might not, but I will try.

Well, that all came from talking about clothing, somehow. I have to read back and see where I got angry and started ranting, because I forget what I was talking about. Oh - I was talking about how strange it is to be my roommate, when you see my unconventional grooming, and how I am not brushing my teeth right now, and seeing what happens to them.

They wanted me to mention something that a co-worker at McDonald's was talking about, but I don't really think I should. It had to do with somebody not taking showers, and it wasn't about me, but someone else. Every time she talks about this, I am thinking to myself how horrified she would be if she knew about my grooming experiments and all the subjects that 'they,' the voices, had been interviewing me about in the past couple years having to do with grooming. Yes, I take showers, but that is because I get covered in transdermal drugs that make me sick or exhausted or affect my moods in various ways.

I am so used to living by a strange set of rules that it would be very hard to explicitly remember what all the rules are. You can't touch contaminated objects and then touch other objects, or the contamination will spread. That's something that I'm so used to by now that I am not even really aware of doing it. I just know that I can't touch my shoes to the carpet in the car, and then go walking around on the carpet in my house, because it will spread the drugs from place to place. That's only one example.

Anyway... My life outside work is very strange, very difficult, and very sad. It's not much fun. I don't watch television, either, and I don't do lots of fun things. I mostly work and save money and then I go read things and write on the internet. Sometimes I drive my car long distances because I love looking at the scenery and exploring places. Trying to explain how depressing and sad my life is, explain it to somebody who would be my roommate, is something that I haven't felt ready to do yet.

'I don't care.' Tommy Lee Jones said 'I don't care' to Harrison Ford just before HF jumped off the dam and fell to the river below, in The Fugitive, when Harrison Ford said 'I didn't kill my wife.' 'I don't care!' he says, and it turns out that he actually does care, and he ends up helping HF find the real killer in the end. (I can't remember the characters' names - it's been a while since I saw that movie.) I loved that 'I don't care,' because it sounds like the exact opposite of what it says.

I am still badly blocked about expressing my feelings.

drug outbreak; bad day

It's 4:10 PM and I am supposed to be asleep. I am not asleep, because there has been an outbreak of ephedra, the worst of all the drugs, at my apartment. I am still trying to understand how it got there. I have two theories: 1. I had some grocery bags sitting on the passenger seat of my car, and I brought them in and set them on some brown paper that I have covering the floor. The passenger seat has some drugs on it, but it didn't usually seem like ephedra - it usually seemed more like St. John's Wort. So this is strange. 2. The handyman came in my house after all, even though I told him I hadn't seen any bugs. He had been walking around ringing doorbells asking to come in and spray for bugs. I had noticed a couple of harmless, benign bugs, and didn't even care, and forgot that I had seen them, so when he asked if I had seen any, I said no, meaning I haven't seen any to speak of, or any worth worrying about. So he didn't come in. But he might have come in later when I was out, and sprayed for bugs. That would mean he walked up the stairs without taking off his shoes at the bottom of the stairs. The bottom of the stairs is contaminated, and you absolutely have to leave your shoes off down there or you will track drugs up the stairs. So that could have happened.

So there is ephedra on the paper that I walk on, in several places, and it is making it impossible for me to sleep. I drove to town to go to Wal-Mart and get some more brown paper because I'm out of it, and I need a few other things to deal with the contamination. But 'they' wanted me to blog about it, and 'they' wanted to demonstrate that 'self-preservation is the weakest of her instincts,' since I would rather blog about something than go get the paper and supplies I need at the store.

The outbreak began yesterday, and it turned up the volume all the way on my feelings and emotions. So instead of having a mild or neutral response, I had an 'extremely intolerable, excruciating agony' response to a particular thing that was bothering me, and it made me want to cry, so I spent a few minutes trying not to cry while this particular thing was going on. Normally I would not be so intense, but I had already been hit with the drugs yesterday.

I hate 'them' for being so stupid and unrealistic. I have always been able to see things realistically, but 'they' want to force people to do things against their will, and 'they' are not able to let go of people, and they've been telling me 'you have to include him in your plans' and other stupid things like that. Yeah, that is what 'they' would do - force people to do things that they don't want to do, and write them into your plans whether they want to be in your plans or not. I have always planned things that I actually have control over, which means I DON'T 'include people in my plans' when those people do not consent to be in my plans. Instead I plan things that I control directly, such as my money, and my jobs, and my projects, and the things that I'm learning and studying, and other things that I have direct control over.

This 'problem' began immediately when Martin left. It was like he went out through a revolving door, put on a new mask, and walked right back in the door. For a very long time, I ignored people, I did not look at them, I did not bond with them, and I stayed detached and separated from people, and I ESPECIALLY did not try to start relationships with attractive young guys. But 'they' started doing something new when I met Martin, and they decided to try forcing me to start going after young guys who I would have normally ignored or been neutral about or closed off and protected against. I think most people would interpret this as me deciding it myself, but no, it was definitely something I was protected against - I had protective beliefs, I had rules that I followed, I had a certain attitude and a way of looking at things, I had assumptions - and 'they' really did attack and destroy all of those things that I was using to protect myself. They decided that it was 'possible' and 'desirable' and all that, to go after younger guys like Martin, and they forced me to do and say a lot of things I would not have done otherwise, especially since I was always having drug reactions.

So, as soon as he left, I should have gone back to my earlier assumptions and beliefs and ways of looking at things. However, there is a problem with my job. The job that I do is boring and lonely and I am by myself most of the time there (at the grocery store, not at McD's. McD's is sociable and I am usually with several different people most of the time). So I USED to spend the time planning about THINGS I HAD CONTROL OVER. But 'they' forced me, instead, to obsess about guys, something I DO NOT have control over. Why obsess about something that you can't do anything about? I have to think about something through the hours when it's boring and lonely and there's nothing to do except think. I used to think about my money, about where I would live, where I was going to move to, how I would build my shield, how much money I would need to save in order to do this or that, how I was going to solve some particular problem. But that's too PRODUCTIVE for THEM. They instead force me to worry about things that are harmful, self-destructive diversions that I can't do anything about. Any other targeted individual would agree with me that they force you to obsess about things that you have no control over, instead of thinking and planning productively to prepare for action on things you DO have control over.

I should be sleeping right now, but the ephedra on the floor (it's actually on some brown paper I put down) has made me too uncomfortable and it causes the worst insomnia that you will ever experience. 'YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED,' one of the voices said to me yesterday, and I don't know what they were referring to. I think they were trying to take credit for the ephedra outbreak, claiming that they put it there, or something.

There are also, as always, several different personas competing to control me. Some of them are doing the stupid, idiotic 'Cling to him and include him in your plans' belief system, which is NOT ME and that is NOT how I behave, that is NOT how I treat people. Another persona, who seems to be more realistic, is encouraging me to have the 'grief response,' ('We're getting a grief response,' they said, when they were pointing out to me that he has a girlfriend and there's nothing wrong with her) which I how I myself think I should be responding - grief is something I should do quickly and efficiently and realistically - and in the REAL WORLD, I would - but the other personas, the stupid and unrealistic ones, zap me whenever I try to process grief and be realistic. They actually zap me no matter what feelings and emotions I'm trying to process.

I am not looking forward to how I will feel when I go to work after writing another blog like this. I had this blog anonymous for a reason, but they wanted me to connect it to my non-anonymous blogs so that everybody could find it, and I would have to go to work the next day wondering, 'Do these people have nothing better to do than read my blog? Or, are they puppets being forced to say something?' I can't tell when people are puppets and when they're actually reading. I assume there are a lot of people being forced to say particular things and they can't help saying those things. As soon as I learned about the puppet phenomenon I was able to argue against the 'Truman Show Theory,' which believes 'everybody's in on it.' I out-argued that theory years and years ago and I say instead that people are forced to say and do things without understanding why, and hardly anybody at all is actually 'in on it.' (*note, by the way, reading the blog doesn't mean someone's 'in on it.' It sounded that way, but that's not what I mean.*)

The competing personas giving me false beliefs all the time - they responded with a bunch of crap after yesterday's 'trying not to cry' incident. The stuff that 'they' said to me about the incident was stupider and more ridiculous than anything I myself would have ever believed. For instance, he was 'just testing me to find out how I feel' and other idiotic ideas like that, which I myself KNOW are NOT TRUE because I am REALISTIC. Do you know how much I HATE having these stupid people putting stupid ideas in my head that would have never even occurred to me? I don't go around having paranoid beliefs about how somebody is just testing me to find out how I feel. I assume people are just doing whatever they want to do, and the world DOES NOT revolve around me with everybody 'testing me to find out how I feel.'

The other phrase they started using was 'approval junkie.' This is a new phrase that they have never said to me before, and they started saying it when they woke me up this morning. They started calling him an 'approval junkie.' I would not have used that phrase myself. I actually understand why he does what he does, because I do it myself: you try to give everybody what they want, all of the time, especially people who seem like undervalued, under-appreciated outcasts who need to be loved and accepted. I am a stray cat collector (when I used to live in the trailer, and stray cats were around) and there is always an infinite supply of stray cats to collect. 'Approval' isn't the right word, either, because when I do it, I am not trying to 'win approval' or anything resembling that. The 'approval junkie' bullcrap that they started saying to me this morning was an unrealistic, delusional belief system that I myself recognize as crap: they were telling me all this stuff like 'he's just testing you' and they're trying to convince me that actually, I'm the center of his universe and everything he's doing revolves around me - which again, I DO NOT believe that, myself. I NEVER assume that I'm the center of the universe and what somebody's doing is revolving around me.

So, waking up to a bunch of crap this morning, and trying to get back to sleep while getting hit with ephedra that got on my brown paper from an unknown location - I don't understand how so much of it could have come from the passenger seat when it usually seemed more like SJW was there instead of ephedra. But it happened and now I have to deal with the contamination. I'm going to own a trailer and it won't have carpets. Carpets are the root of all evil, with regard to contamination outbreaks. I only have eleven minutes left, so I should publish this and then go to Wal-Mart and get my supplies. Meanwhile, I also have to deal with this 'other problem' and all their bullcrap beliefs and assumptions about me being the center of the universe and all that garbage, so I have to fight against all those ideas and waste my mental efforts doing something I don't even need to do.

I'm not giving this the title that they wanted me to give it

There's a problem with the width of this box that I'm typing in. I'm trying to squeeze it down to the smallest possible size, because I'm in the Bellefonte Library in an exposed, open area where I feel as though I have 'shoulder surfers' standing behind me. And if I make the box too small, the words I'm typing don't show up on the right side of the box.

I never knew about the Bellefonte Library because I mistakenly thought they only had a small library of genealogical data, but actually they have two libraries across the street from each other, and one of them is a regular library with books that have nothing to do with genealogy, and also computers to use for internet access. I learned about it by reading an article in a little free local newspaper called The Gazette.

That newspaper had an article a few weeks ago about dairy farmers and how the price of milk was too low. If I could mention a book by Garet Garrett (I can't remember how many R's and T's are in his name - I have to look it up) called 'Satan's Bushel,' it talks about people using the Chicago Mercantile Exchange - actually, that might not have existed in the book, but there was something very similar to it - using that to make prices really low by speculating. The same thing is going on today. Prices get distorted because people are able to borrow lots of money and use it for speculating and controlling the prices of things.

I haven't had a chance to write about gold and silver recently - that's usually on eagledove9 - but Barrick Gold has changed its policies and they're now allowing the price of gold to go up, and the last time I looked at it, it was somewhere around $1200 a few days ago. And yes I'm still interested in gold and silver but haven't written much lately.

I also didn't write about how I recently finished my Schaum's Outline of Bookkeeping and Accounting. I am now changing my own record keeping over to the official double-entry bookkeeping system, for my mundane expenses like food and gasoline and rent. I'm using it as though I am a business instead of just an individual person, and that's how I'm practicing.

The cell phone hackers will have noticed that I stopped using my cell phone calculator to add up all my money, because a few days ago I just bought myself a printing calculator that I can type really fast on. It was very hard to thumb-type all those numbers into the cell phone. Even if my other calculators weren't in a box in storage, they're too small, too. And my computer calculator still isn't as nice as the printing calculator, or adding machine, or whatever it's called. I love it.

I love double-entry bookkeeping too. It's making me very conscious of my money and it makes me feel like I would be able to run a business, any kind of business, if only I learned more about accounting. I think bookkeeping should be taught to young children as soon as possible, and it should be a universal thing, like "readin', writin', and 'rithmetic," or whatever. I think there should be some more apostrophes in there. Maybe not.

But bookkeeping, and money, is essential and universal. It's everywhere. It's not just some useless knowledge that you have to memorize and you'll never use. As soon as you start using it, you feel more empowered and more in control of your life and less afraid of money. I read 'Your Money or Your Life' a few years ago and I wanted to do the things they were talking about, and I'm doing something very similar now. I like the phrase 'no shame, no blame,' because whenever you decide you're spending too much money on something, and you decide what to do about it - well, I had problems in the beginning of the attacks, years ago, where 'they' were constantly attacking me because I spent a lot of money buying fast food and food from Sheetz - they used the 'Shame And Blame' technique instead of the 'No Shame, No Blame' technique. They'd still be doing that to me if I were buying food on my bank debit card, which the hackers can see. But I can't, because my bank won't let me buy point-of-sale purchases on my debit card anymore, because I overdrew it too many times. I have to withdraw cash instead. The most common thing that they used to do to me was give me nightmares about 'shit' if I ever purchased anything from 'Sheetz.' I'd be angry about that, but I'm not in the mood to get angry right now.

My hours have been temporarily reduced at Weis. This is just one of those ups and downs. They've hired new people and they have enough people to cover the evening shift, so I'm not needed as badly as I usually was before. Plus, football season is over, and we have less business.

This is exactly the reason why I have a second job. I will be working a few more hours at McDonald's - in fact, I already told them that I will temporarily be available on Wednesdays. I'm going to call them tonight and offer to come in. Their response will be something like, 'YES, PLEASE, YES, OH GOD YES,' because they never have enough help on Wednesdays, since a lot of people aren't available on that day. So I will go to work tonight.

Another reason why I'm temporarily available on Wednesdays is because I requested a four-day unpaid vacation in January from both jobs, and I think I would like to make up that lost revenue ahead of time by working extra hours. I'd like to do it again, too, in a couple months - I could do another four-day unpaid vacation in March.

When you're just moving out on your own, or when you're still young, or when you're still in 'rumspringa,' that's a time when you still want to buy stuff. You want to spend money on things your family never had, fun things. I was looking at a catalog that I got in the mail - I got some catalogs from Fingerhut (Finger Hat, or thimble, in German) and Bed, Bath and Beyond, and I was wondering, who would ever need these things, who would ever want to buy these things, and why? But people do buy them, people who've never had them before, people who are moving into their own homes or apartments and they've never seen bedsheets like this at Wal-Mart, these sheets and blankets with dragons all over them, and they decide they want to buy the whole dragon bedspread set and make their whole room into a dragon theme (yes, that was the only thing I really liked in the catalog and thought that I might have wanted to buy sometime, except I don't have a bed right now, but that's a long story). I forget which catalog it was - I'm assuming Bed, Bath and Beyond, but I'm not sure.

But anyway, now that I'm in my thirties, I discovered that 'Time Off' is all that I ever really wanted, and it's all that I care about. When you've been working at pointless, going-nowhere jobs for years and years, and you don't want to do that for the rest of your life, you start to feel that you want to save your money so that you can take time off and still pay your rent. (Also, another reason why I don't want to buy stuff is because I contaminated all my belongings and have had to throw so much away. But 'time off' is the other main reason why I don't want to spend money on stuff.)

So I'm excited about my unpaid vacation in January. It will be ten days: from my Monday off until the Thursday of the next week. Maybe that's eleven days. Oh well. It's a lot of days. No, ten. Thursday I would go to work. Anyway, that's confusing, but it's because I usually have off Mon-Wed, and I only go in from Thurs-Sun, which I've talked about before.

I did actually reduce my exposure to the drug residues recently, and it made me a little bit less cheerful and friendly, and somewhat more formal and cold, but not too badly. I have stronger inhibitions now. 'Low inhibitions' is one of the things the drugs do to me. I'm talking kind of indirectly about this, but let's say that there's something I always want to do, but I stop myself from doing it. It would be something that I always want to do, very frequently, but I don't do it. If I am on the drugs I get enough courage or have low inhibitions, and I do this thing more often than usual. It's something that takes courage and it causes a lot of anxiety. So I have stopped doing that particular thing, or have done it a lot less often, but it is still something I wish I could do. I don't want to cause problems by writing a blog about this, because it's very easy to google my name and find all the blogs that I write, in a few seconds, and I never really know who's reading my blog. But anyway, that's why I have more inhibitions lately - it's drug-related and I was able to get rid of some of the residue contamination on my car seat and my clothing (I have a vinyl cover on my car seat now).

They just now reminded me of an incident which was relevant and I can mention it. A few months ago at McDonald's, I think on a Sunday morning, when I was getting ready to leave and the morning people were coming in to start breakfast, there was a very young girl who I had never seen before. It turns out that she is seventeen, if I recall. I was doing things around the kitchen, putting some stuff into the cooler, and getting ready to leave. She said, 'Are you here to help me?'

I am NOT making fun of her, but, her tone of voice was trusting, almost awed, and when I thought about it later on, it was like she said, 'Are you my guardian angel?' or 'Are you my fairy godmother?' I know it sounds funny, but I am not making fun of her. I thought about what it would be like to be young and trusting - I was always very, very socially restrained, inhibited, shy, afraid of people, and I was never very friendly or trusting even when I was young - I had only a couple of friends and I avoided almost everyone else.

So I helped her a little bit before I went home. The next week, when she saw me, she reached out her arm as I approached, and she gave me a hug. How do you hug a complete stranger after only meeting them one time? How did she know that I liked her, and she liked me, after only spending a few minutes together? I've never been able to touch people, not men, not women, in a friendly way.

I talked to her a couple days ago. She told me that she was having insomnia and it had only started a couple months ago. She said she was waking up after sleeping only an hour or so, and then, she would be awake for a few hours, and she would want to go get on the computer, before going to take another nap. Her sleep is now disturbed and it only began recently. It's not really insomnia, but just interrupted sleep and irregular sleep at the wrong times. She used to sleep just fine, up until just recently.

Why?

I don't have much time left on this login - only four minutes - I'll save a draft and start over, because I can log in again for another hour.

Okay, good - my saved draft survived the logout and login. I'm back for another hour. I'm afraid I'll lose something, so I even took precautions and emailed it to myself, too, in addition to saving it in a draft.

Here's another thing that I didn't mention that happened recently. I had just left work at Weis and was going over to McDonald's, but I had a little bit of time in between to sit down, get off my feet, eat something, and listen to the radio in the car. There was something playing on public radio, something orchestral, music without words.

This was probably November 15th, because I looked it up on the internet, where they have playlists written down for what was on the radio at a particular time, and I found a playlist that mentioned it for that day. I think that was the date. It doesn't matter. So I heard this orchestra playing, and it did something strange. Maybe it was just the mood I was in. Sometimes I am able to cry, and other times, my feelings are not very responsive to music. But this song did something strange with its chords and its intervals. It was not like the music I hear all the time, doing the same predictable chord progressions and the same predictable intervals between the notes. It didn't do it just once, it did it again and again and again. I started crying. Not only that, but it was violins and cellos, and I love those. The cello that resonates in my chest and in my throat. I would sing with it, but it's too low, and I have to sing an octave higher. It was like the music I'd be writing, if I were free, and if I had free time, and if my brain didn't get interrupted when I write music, and if I weren't getting zapped, and if I didn't have a million other things to do.

I waited for the name. It was 'Alan Hovanis.' I didn't know how to spell it. I found out it's 'Hovhaness.' The song was 'Concerto for harp and string orchestra.' But I wasn't sure I found the right thing, because it turns out that this guy wrote millions of songs, and it could be 'Opus 3,478,298' or it could be 'Opus 1,289,996,' or something. But I bought the CD and it was the right one.

I don't cry every time I hear it. I only cried that first time. But it's my favorite song on the CD and I listen to it again and again. There are non-European influences in his music. I forget which country - it might have been India or Arabia. A lot of his music sounds like it came from there. I have been interested in the less familiar chords and scales from other countries, and I always wanted to learn them and use them in my music so that it won't sound like the same old stuff we hear every day.

I have to mention William Russo and Jeffrey Ainis's book, 'Composing Music: A New Approach,' which gives you music composition exercises to do. I was going through that book doing the exercises on Propellerheads' Reason program, but I haven't had time lately to do that. That book talks about scales and intervals and chord progressions.

Anyway, I don't necessarily LIKE the extremely unfamiliar, foreign-sounding scales. They don't make me cry or move my emotions as intensely as the chord progressions that are more familiar. It has to be mostly familiar, with just a little bit of strangeness and unexpectedness. If it's totally unfamiliar, I don't know how to respond to it. I don't know whether my response to music is 'objective' or whether it's 'cultural.' If I'd grown up hearing nothing but Arabian scales, would I recognize them enough to cry when I hear a song written in Arabian scales? Musical scales and emotions are connected because whenever we talk, whenever we are speaking a sentence, our voices go up and down in pitch and rhythm. Every sentence is a line of music. This is why our brain is able to understand music even if it doesn't have any words in it. We read people's feelings in their tone of voice. We understand feelings of safety, or feelings of danger and emergency, if someone is talking in a calm voice, or a panicky voice. We recognize happiness and excitement, or sadness and despair.

I have about fifteen minutes left. There's a whole subject that I want to write about. I won't be writing about it today. It's better to DO things than it is to write about them.

the most recent herbal residue outbreak

I tried to get my car inspected a few weeks ago.  But I have these plastic trash bags covering my car seats.  So I took them off for the inspection.  I failed the inspection for a couple of reasons, so I will have to do it again.

 

I didn't get around to putting trash bags back on the seats.  So I drove around without them for a while, a week or two, I forget.  And I think I was probably starting to get sick around that time, so even a small easy project like putting trash bags back on my seats was too hard for me to do.  So... the herbal residue contamination gradually got onto the clothes I was wearing.  Then I tried to wash them, which, as always, just spread it around to the entire piece of clothing and the whole batch of laundry.

 

So I've been wearing these contaminated clothes now for several weeks, and it has altered my moods and emotions.  I have had the 'excessive friendliness' or 'excessive cheerfulness' phenomenon several times, and some people at McDonald's jokingly asked me what drug I was using and whether they could have some, because when I am that cheerful it seems like I'm smoking pot, which I am not.

 

What bothers me about this is that it is unreliable and inconsistent.  As soon as I put clean clothes on again, my mood will go back to being, well, whatever I am when I am not on drugs.  I am much more serious and not as friendly and cheerful, and I am more antisocial.  People will always wonder why my moods seem to swing and to change so much and they might even think that I am 'bipolar' or something.

 

Today I bought some car seat covers.  I didn't want to get them - I had looked at them a few months ago, and decided that I wanted something made of vinyl, and they only had fabric ones.  But today I bought them anyway.  I had been trying to get myself to go to the fabric store, and buy some of the clear vinyl that I was imagining - I already went to the fabric store and found exactly what I wanted, but I didn't buy it - the smallest project, no matter how trivial, has been too difficult for me, if it requires thought and effort.

 

To be realistic, I decided:  yes, it would be nice to have the vinyl, yes, it would be cheaper, yes it would be an easy and simple project and I could even use a stapler or something if I didn't want to stitch the vinyl - but even that simple project was too hard for me to do, and if I had unrealistic expectations of being able to do something I couldn't do, then it would never happen.  So I bought the seat covers, even though they were more expensive and not made of vinyl.

 

I've been having hypersomnia too - sleeping for a really long time, and having a hard time waking up.  That tells me that one of the drug residues is St. John's Wort, which I already knew.

 

I will probably have to buy new seat covers eventually, and spend more money.  In the long run, I would like to reupholster the car, but that will be after all of my contaminated belongings in storage have been moved around, cleaned off, or thrown away, which will require me to drive them around in the car.  Not until after that's all done will I reupholster it.

 

I think there were a few other things I wanted to say, but I don't remember them right now.

 

Hopefully, since I got the car seat covers, and some new clothes, my moods should go back to the non-drugged version of me.  I wish I could explain it to people, I wish that they could accept it and understand it and forgive me for having strange moods for weeks at a time, and of course, sooner or later, I will want somebody to help me, but I am reluctant to ask for that right now - I think I would actually pay somebody money to help me clean up and throw away and sort through my stuff - mostly, I just need moral support.

 

I don't need somebody to agree with every word I say, or believe everything I tell them without question.  I just want somebody who will at least listen to it, take it seriously, and possibly disagree, but at least talk about it without this angry rage explosion like what used to happen when I would talk about certain subjects with my ex-boyfriend.  When we tried to talk about certain things, he just couldn't talk about them at all without some gigantic outburst and a fight.  People don't have to just passively accept everything I say, but I want them to listen and talk about it and ask questions, without dismissing the whole subject as 'crazy' or shouting and screaming about it.  I'm mentioning that because yesterday I wrote about how I want people to respect my ideas, but that doesn't mean that everybody is required to agree with every word I say.  The herbal residue contamination phenomenon is so strange and obscure, most people don't know that it can happen.  They don't know that it's possible.  They don't know how severe and life-ruining it is.  They don't know that the strange things I'm doing are done for a reason, like throwing in the garbage a lot of my belongings because they can't be cleaned well enough.  They wouldn't believe how hard it is to clean something, and how tiny a quantity of residue is still enough to cause a severe reaction.

 

It's just like a stain or an odor that you can't get out of fabric.  If you've ever washed a red shirt with white shirts, and saw all of your white shirts turn pink, and they stayed that way forever until you bleached them - it's just like that.  But you can't bleach everything, and bleach doesn't break down an active drug compound.  It might change the drug into some other drug, but it is still a drug that will cause a reaction.  I already tried to break down the drugs using bleach and chemicals, and often, it made them into something EVEN WORSE.  I can't explain why it's able to stay in the fabric, but it's also able to let go of the fabric and pass through the skin.  That would imply that it's able to come out if you only wash it a thousand times.  I would agree with that, but I already tried washing my laundry a thousand times - I remember, I went to the laundromat and I washed the same batch of laundry maybe five or six times in a row.  I sat there for hours and hours and hours.  When it was all dry, I touched it and I wore it, and I still had a very severe reaction.  I don't know how many hundreds of times it would have to be washed.

 

I have to go - the library is closing....

Sx/So?

I'm still working on this, trying to decide my instinctual type.  After a conversation on the phone with Peter, they urged me to call myself sx/so instead of sx/sp.  It was because he likes to use sexual symbolism, and I don't, and I find sexual symbolism to be annoying and irritating.  I only do it if I feel pressured to do it, to please the other person, but it's not natural to me.  The sx/sp is supposedly one that enjoys, or tends to use, sexual symbols.  The particular symbol was 'sucking on a lollipop.'  I get impatient with using symbols to refer to sexual acts.

 

I also remember having a lot of forced-hypnosis nightmares where they use symbols to refer to sexual acts, and then they force me awake, and then they remind me about the dream while I'm lying there half-awake, to explain to me that symbols were used in the dream, and to explain what the symbols meant, and then they force me to feel angry about it, even though I am physically incapable of feeling angry on my own, because I'm in a half-asleep hypnotized state where I can't question anything or defend myself.

 

I watched Twilight - New Moon, without having read any of the books, and without seeing the first movie either.  I decided Bella is sx/sp.  She's interested in bonding with ONE person, and she strongly values feeling part of a family.  Themes of family bonds are in that movie.

 

She also has the 'extreme sports' behavior that they said will happen with sx/sp.  It's not limited to just that type, though, because I loved skiing and if I had infinite money, I'd do more sports (although my old bones might be developing osteoporosis, because of a variety of factors, such as the drug contamination, which are bad for my health).

 

Another theme was 'my lover will physically protect me.'  I can understand that, but it wasn't a big issue for me.  I don't really like 'big muscles' type guys and I never really fantasized much about being rescued or protected by the guy.  Instead, I am more focused on whether the guy respects my intelligence, my competence, my knowledge, my decision-making (social respect) because most of the time in my life I feel as though nobody takes me seriously (Nicole couldn't possibly know anything about medicine - she's not a doctor - I'll only listen to the doctor's advice and I'll dismiss everything that Nicole says I should/shouldn't be doing.  She has these crazy, delusional ideas that she got off the internet.).  It's more important to me that the guy sees me as somebody socially respected - not socially inferior - not somebody to dismiss and ignore all of my radical ideas and things I found on the internet.  'Take me seriously' is the issue, instead of 'protect me from physical danger.'

 

For the sx/so, my feeling is more like, 'All of society needs to be drastically changed.'  To solve every problem, no matter how trivial, you have to ***CHANGE THE ENTIRE WORLD!!!!!***  This is like reading Ayn Rand's objectivist books, or like the feminist belief system, or environmentalism.  Radical ideas, with '-ism' at the end, are what sx/so's are interested in.

 

Here, in my mid-thirties, when I want to start a family, and I want to avoid getting a divorce, and I want to have children before I lose the opportunity forever - I now have to teach myself to accept family values, when this didn't come naturally to me.  Family values - marry one person, and only one person, and stay with them forever - trust that person not to beat you up and abuse you, not to trap you financially and make you dependent, not to be boring and unattractive and sexually unsatisfying - I have to think about all of those things.  I am asking questions about polyfidelity - can it be possible, or desirable, to be bonded for a long time with more than one person?  Is there a real need to do that, or does it mean that your relationship has something wrong with it, something missing, which you are trying to find someplace else?  Why would my husband 'pay me to stay home' if I were having sexual relationships with more than one person?  What is he paying for, if not monogamy?  Why would one person have to pay, and another person doesn't?  Because that's what you're doing, when you marry someone and make her a housewife.  She's receiving food and shelter, which is money in the form of barter.

 

(With farming, the work is done at home, and so I agree with the Amish that the farm lifestyle is ideal for families.  The husband doesn't go away - he stays home to do his work.  The children can be with their father and their mother both, all day long, while the farm work is done.  Children are legally allowed to work on the farm, whereas the child labor laws forbid them to work anyplace else (solution... you guessed it, 'change society,' change the rules, it shouldn't be illegal for children to work).)

 

And the person also has to be willing to 'pay me to stay home.'  Because it's usually illegal or socially unacceptable or just a rule in a particular corporation, we're not allowed to carry our infant babies to work and breastfeed them in the workplace while we do our job.  (To fix this problem, we have to ***CHANGE ALL OF SOCIETY!!!***)  It shouldn't be illegal, against company policy, or socially unacceptable to bring your baby to work and breastfeed it in the workplace.  This type of belief is more like an sx/so, because it's focused on problems with the social system, with the large-scale social environment.  I'm just trying to pinpoint which type I am and I haven't yet gone on a forum and asked other people for their opinions.

 

So anyhow, as I've been trying to figure out my instinctual type, I decided that the 'change society' attitude probably means I'm an sx/so.
I haven't talked much about this for a while, but 'they' have encouraged me to create a new religion, and I accepted this as something I would agree to do.  It can't be done instantly, and it is more like a life mission, something that will take a long time.  My religion REQUIRES breastfeeding, and to not breastfeed is against the religion.  It is an explicit rule.  You must find a wet nurse if for any reason you cannot breastfeed.  So I have to plan a way that I will be able to do this, and either work on the farm, or get paid to stay home, or break rules, or find a corporation that will allow me to literally carry my baby around with me all day.  This is something I have to plan out before I can marry someone - he has to agree to it.

 

I just keep thinking, I wouldn't want to do that if I were a man.  I've read Warren Farrell.  Because of that, I try to see things from the man's point of view.  He becomes a slave, especially if he hates his job.  I can understand how it feels to hate your job, because I've never really loved any job that I ever worked at, except I sincerely enjoy McDonald's, especially College Avenue during a football game, when it's total insanity that goes on for hours and hours.  Working at College Avenue McDonald's during a football game weekend is an extreme sport.

 

And I bonded with the people there and I don't want to leave them.  Not only that, but on the last night when I expected to work there, my own store asked me to stay instead of going to College Avenue, so I unexpectedly didn't get to go to College Avenue, so I didn't say goodbye to anybody, and I just didn't show up.  That sucked.  So then I went there a few days ago to pick up some Angus buns for our store because we ran out of them, and I had to see the people again, the familiar faces, and I saw grief and pain and sadness.  I don't want to separate from these people.  They liked me and I liked them.

 

But football season is over and I have no excuse to go work at that store.  I would have to deliberately ask for a special arrangement to just go work there for the heck of it, or transfer there and disconnect from all  the people I've bonded with at my OWN store, which I also don't want to do.  To 'Have it all,' to stay connected with all the people I know at all the different McDonald's, would mean that I would have to work at the Nittany Mall, North Atherton, Hills, and College Avenue, because they are scattered to all of those places.

 

But anyway, about being a financial slave, paying your wife to stay home and watch soap operas - I know about that because of Warren Farrell.  So in order to avoid a bad marriage, I need to plan out what kind of arrangement my husband would be willing, and happy, to do.  I would like to earn money somehow myself while being married, so it would have to be a home business, or whatever.

 

I don't have time now to get into it, because I'm on the library computer and I'm running out of time.  I drank coffee a while ago, and haven't eaten, and I know from past experience that if I do that, it causes me to write blogs that go on for hours and hours and hours, because writing is a substitute for eating, for taking care of myself.  Talking too much usually means that you have some kind of physical problem, like drug use, drug withdrawal (usually tobacco), hunger, low blood sugar, or a 'chemical problem' - artificial flavors, salicylates, etc - like the Feingold diet talks about.  Tobacco in particular I'm familiar with, because over the years I've known so many people who either smoke or chew tobacco, and I've seen how their tobacco ups and downs, their uses and withdrawals, affect their moods and behavior.

 

I'm sure I'll think of more stuff I didn't get to write.  And I haven't even done all the other things I need to do on the internet and I won't have time.  More later then.

Thank you for all your helpful information about Viagra!

I haven't blogged in a long time because I left all my computer passwords in a cardboard box somewhere when I moved to my new apartment. I finally changed my passwords online so I could get back in. Now I'm seeing nothing but spam comments about Viagra.

However, back before I changed my password, I wasn't even getting notifications about spam-Viagra comments, and now I am.

Now that I've written a blog with Viagra in the title, I should get even more spam comments about Viagra.

anorexic for about six weeks now

this is just like last winter. i am getting the stomach flu over and over again almost every week. i don't have my scale - it's packed in storage somewhere - but i think i have lost ten or fifteen pounds. my ribs and my hipbones are visible through the skin, and i can fit into pants that were originally too small.

i might soon be able to have my computer at my house again and get online there, which means i will be getting online more often. there is still herbal residue all over most of my belongings, and when i go through the stuff in storage, i have a drug reaction, and i do things which i call 'drug-facilitated externally controlled behaviors.' or something like that. it's not just 'drug-induced behaviors,' because what's really happening is the drugs make me more easily controlled and i do whatever 'they' make me do. not having a computer in the house, and not unpacking any of my belongings, was protecting me against doing things online that i didn't want to do, such as trying over and over again to contact a particular person.

one good thing that's been going on is that i am finally finishing up the schaum's outline of bookkeeping and accounting. i am at almost the last chapter now. technically, it's the last chapter, but i'm also going to do the exercises in the appendix too, so that's like one more chapter.

i decided a couple years ago that i would study bookkeeping because it would be important for me to know if i wanted to start my own business.

'they' have continued paying attention to ichazo's three instincts: self-preservation, social, and sexual. they decided i am probably not sp/sx, but instead i am sx/sp. the primary motive for that type, according to the 'info from the underground' page, ocean-moonshine.net (if you type in that url, you get an error - you have to google that url instead) anyway, according to that page, the primary motive for the sx/sp is 'to form a secure union.'

avoiding insecure unions, and forming a secure one, has indeed been a central theme that i have noticed over these years. when i get laid off from jobs, most of the pain is from being separated from the people i got to know, and not so much because i had to take lower income jobs (although that was a problem too). the thing that bothers me most about unstable jobs is that i keep losing people over and over again after bonding with them. and i hate employee turnover at these low-wage jobs, and it bothers me a lot whenever new people get hired and then quit or get fired a few weeks later.

there's a lot more to it but i have limited time because i'm at the library.

'attracted to radical ideas' is another attribute of the sx-first group, and that fits me.

i was also going to comment about my dreadlocks. they don't look as good as they look on someone who has thicker hair. my hair is so thin that there aren't many locks, and there are big spaces between them. but i'm getting attached to having dreadlocks, anyway. i want to see whether they really will allow my hair to grow beyond 'classic length,' hip length, which is where it finally stopped growing.

dreadlocks start at the roots. i never knew how they started. i had the idea that they would start at the ends, and you would have to manually keep doing something to make the roots lock up. but you don't have to do anything. i stopped washing with shampoo, and the grease causes the hair to tangle together. i gave up on trying to comb it, and it started to form dreadlocks, but only at the roots. the ends are still loose, and i could comb them if i wanted to. they only have a few tangles. so almost all of my hair is still loose, with only a few inches of locks developing at the roots.

it reminds me of the matted dog hair on crystal, our old samoyed we used to have. i combed out some of those mats and it took a long time but it could be done. if i combed out my mats, there would be a huge amount of loose hair that would disconnect while i was combing it. hair disconnects at the roots and starts over again, which is why it only reaches a certain length and then stops. the locks prevent the disconnected hairs from falling off. so according to that theory, my hair should grow longer than its maximum length.

i have seen one guy who has, like, one big dreadlock on his head. he's someone who i see around town, who might be homeless, i don't know. i am wondering if my hair will gradually become all one single large mat, because the mats tend to interconnect with each other. i don't think i will really like it if that happens, but i can always fix it if i want to. so i am starting with lots of small strings and small mats which are gradually connecting into larger ones.

i haven't gotten into the box of papers in storage, but i just requested a password change so i could get back into my blogs again.

Precarious Packing Positions?

(that title doesn't really sound quite right. LOL)

Dad and I are getting along, so far. It was actually fun, both of us carrying the dishwasher down the steps on a dolly, in the rain, on slippery wooden steps. If I could have somehow videotaped this, I would have. (I may have confused 'fun' with 'terrifying.' It's not something I do every day.)

Then, I should have also videotaped myself standing on top of a shaky metal file cabinet a foot and a half wide, which was on top of a plastic foot locker, while I piled boxes and musical keyboards and other stuff on top of, and behind, other stacks of boxes, while Dad handed things up to me.

Or then again, there was me standing on top of the dishwasher, doing that same thing as before, piling things onto stacks, except the dishwasher started to roll away on its wheels while I was straddled with one foot on a nearly-empty box sticking out of one of the stacks, which was slowly crushing under my foot, with my other foot on the dishwasher. So I had to get Dad to catch the dishwasher and push it back, or I would have had to jump off and probably knocked a bunch of boxes over.

And of course it's pouring rain today! We get to go up and down the steps in the rain. I don't mind that too much, it's refreshing, not too hot outside.

So again, kind of stressful but also fun, and we're not arguing. We seem to understand each other. As long as I don't talk about any controversial subjects it won't be a problem.

Dad is thinking ahead about where we might put the last of my stuff if we absolutely can't fit it into the storage unit. I can keep some of it in my car, and he said that maybe Aunt Jean would let me temporarily put a few things there if I had to. And he also suggested that I might go to the homeless shelter if I absolutely had to, if I could not get in to the apartment. (I am having a problem which I won't get into right now, but I expect it to be resolved. But I might not get the apartment or it might be delayed.) A couple years ago I had asked Aunt Jean if I could stay at their place but they were not really comfortable with that, especially because both of them have serious health problems now. So I'm not going there. I'm not that worried about it yet.

Anyway, it really is fun to do work with somebody else instead of alone.

That's it for now.

My storage unit looks like a badly played game of Tetris.

I used to play Tetris on Nintendo back in the 1990s. There were times when you would have a hole, a missing space, a few rows down, and you're trying really hard to get to it so that you can fix it, but every time you reach it, something goes wrong, and you add another piece that doesn't really fit and it only makes the situation worse, or it has a piece that juts outwards with another hole underneath it, which causes another bad row, and it piles up higher and higher because you can't make any rows disappear.

So my storage unit is like that. I have my bookshelves set up, but for some reason, didn't put anything ON them, which would have actually USED the shelves. Instead, I just piled things in front of them. After doing that for a bit, I decided to try putting a few things on the highest shelves, but not the lower ones, so it's in danger of falling forwards. The lower shelves are empty, but blocked behind a bunch of stuff. It's too exhausting to think about pulling everything out just to get to the lower bookshelves, so I am leaving it that way.

Then, I have the recliner. It has boxes piled up in its lap. But since the recliner is soft and squishy and not flat, the boxes are tilted, leaning at a slight angle. To fix this, I added a few boxes in between other stacks of boxes, up at a high place with nothing underneath them, boxes that are supported by nothing except the leaning stacks of boxes around them, just hanging in midair that way.

A lot of my boxes are almost empty, with only one or two lightweight objects in them. This is because I kept a few contaminated items that I wanted to keep separate from other items. So there are quite a few boxes that are full of air, which ought to have been compressed into less space if I could. But I am leaving them that way too.

I went there to move things around and make room for my dishwasher. That worked out fine, so I will be able to get the dishwasher in there today.

My dad drove up here anyway, because it turns out that my uncle Eugene in Bellefonte was having heart problems and thought he might die. I was shocked to hear this, because nobody mentioned it to me until after everyone else had already known about it for several days. However, I got to see him today and I will try to go visit them maybe later today after Dad and I get the dishwasher put away.

I used St. John's Wort yesterday to give myself the endurance I need to do unpleasant work. I was having days where I would get maybe one box of stuff packed, and then I couldn't bring myself to do any more work than that. The sjw worked well - I got a lot more boxes packed yesterday than any other days.

Anyway I thought it was funny how it reminded me of Tetris - playing Nintendo all the time, those were the days. (Nothing in my life reminds me of Super Mario Brothers right now, but I'll let you know if that happens. Maybe I'm a princess 'moving to another castle?')

OMG!!! THE UNIVERSE IS ENDING!!! RIGHT NOW!!! ALL LIFE AS WE KNOW IT WILL BE DESTROYED!!!

My mom is freaking out about me trying to move out of my apartment. She said again that she is going to send Dad up here to 'help' me get out of the apartment. I am moving out very slowly because of recurring illnesses, chemical sensitivities, and fatigue, which makes it very hard to pack all my stuff into boxes and go up and down the steps a hundred times.

There are a few reasons why I don't want Dad to come up here and 'help.' Dad and Mom both believe that all of my herbal residue contamination is imaginary (and also the moldy air, and my chronic fatigue). So if Dad is packing things for me, he will throw contaminated objects randomly with other things that are not contaminated - unless I fight and argue, constantly, which I can already imagine. This means that sentimental, irreplaceable objects will be ruined, destroyed, and made permanently untouchable and unusable. I'm expecting also that there will be fighting over random things, lectures about what a failure I am and how I'm 34 years old and yet they're still helping me financially, and how I need to get my life together, blah blah blah.

Mom and Dad are co-signed on my lease with me. And I would never have wanted that. But over the past few years, it's been frequent job losses, unusual disasters, electronic harassment, and chronic illnesses, one after another, and my life has not been stable enough to earn enough income to pay my own rent for long periods of time. (My parents believe that all of these things are either imaginary, or else they're my fault.) I've been able to do it for brief periods, but not permanently.

It has been years since I've fought with them this much. I feel like I'm living with them again. I am actually yelling and raising my voice in an argument, which, again, I almost never need to do. I have been shouting at Mom on the phone telling her *NOT* to send Dad up here.

I tried explaining to her the reasons why the universe ISN'T going to collapse and destroy all life as we know it. But she believes that since their name is co-signed on the lease, it IS going to destroy the universe and all life as we know it.

I am not happy about this either, but I know for sure that the universe isn't ending, and that it will be okay. I can survive this even if it doesn't go perfectly. Mom is freaking out because I don't have all my belongings out of here yet. The worst thing that can happen with that is that 1. I will have to pile stuff on the porch, and 2. the carpet won't get cleaned in time. If the carpet wasn't ready, the new people might be briefly delayed getting in (oh no! I can see the dead bodies piling up now! I can hear the screaming! blood and guts everywhere!).

I can't move things into the new apartment, because it hasn't been settled yet. I wasn't getting enough hours at my job, and the new landlady was hesitant to let me move in, because it seems like I'm not making enough money. In reality, in the long term, I am either going to become a nomad and live in my car, an RV, or something similar, or else I am going to be living with housemates, or a group, or a spouse.

All these years, I have not married, because I was sure there would be a divorce, and if we didn't divorce, there would be physical and psychological abuse. So I refused to marry. I don't know why I expect physical and psychological abuse as being extremely likely to happen in my marriage, but it might be because my first 'real' boyfriend (somebody more than just a brief kiss or whatever) was... a little bit messed up... very unpredictable, and probably a victim of some of the same things that are causing so many problems in MY life right now.

I actually see two possible scenarios for my marriage. The first scenario: 1. I find the guy sexually attractive. The marriage relationship is psychologically abusive. Life is unstable. It ends with a divorce. This is a bad environment to try to raise children in. 2. A 'practical' marriage. I find the guy sexually and psychologically boring, or possibly even disgusting, repulsive, or loathsome. Not at all attractive. However, he is down-to-earth enough to earn money in a reliable way, and nonviolent enough that he doesn't abuse me or the children. For sexual, psychological, and mental excitement, I look outside the marriage. This is an infidelity or non-monogamous scenario. Again, I would rather not feel that I had to do that.

It's normal for people to have friends outside the marriage, and it's normal that spouses do not meet each other's every social need, and they have to go to other people to share their interests and their goals and their activities. A typical marriage might have a wife who rolls her eyes whenever the husband wants to go watch football or NASCAR racing on TV, and the husband rolls his eyes whenever the wife wants to go shopping at yard sales, or whatever wives do that annoys their husbands. (I don't relate to other women very well. I never have.) And it seems to be common for women to fantasize about other men, celebrities, movie stars, etc. who are 1. not their husband, 2. not interested in them, 3. not available, 4. not reliable or stable enough to marry, 5. drug users who are physically and psychologically dangerous, having fights and mood swings and unpredictable things (that describes my high school boyfriend).

So my imagined likely scenarios for the marriage are very negative, and I avoided it all this time.

I don't know where this fits in, but I also have to mention: I expect that, of course, my husband will not respect my knowledge, my intelligence, my competence, the things that I believe and the things that I want, and the goals I want to achieve. That would probably be true in both scenarios. In all of my life, nobody ever respected me or cared what I wanted or what I believed. (That's one of those fake sentences which is not true: those are somebody else's words, not mine. In reality, I can name a few people who HAVE respected me and cared what I wanted. But would you believe me if I told you that somebody is forcing me to write fake sentences, and that I need a physical shield that can block out electronic mind control attacks, and that somebody needs to do research to find out how the attacks are being done so that we will know what the shield needs to be made of, and also the sources of the attacks needs to be found so that the people doing them can be stopped? I would need a husband who can at least *tolerate* this, even though I would probably have to work on those projects with other people, not necessarily my husband.)

Fighting with Mom and Dad again is bringing all of this out. (So far, I have only talked on the phone to Mom. Dad and I don't talk much. He and I only get in fights if we live together in the same house.) I don't want to marry somebody only to find that they are just as disbelieving as Mom and Dad, calling me a hypochondriac, crazy, lazy, and all the other things that they think I am.

In my opinion, there isn't much reason to marry someone unless you are planning to have children. If you're not having children, then you can just have monogamous boyfriend-girlfriend relationships, which is what I have been doing all these years. People do it for 'tax reasons,' but that's just... I don't know. A stupid reason. There have to be better reasons to marry someone than that.

I forgot to mention something earlier. I read someplace the names of the generations. Mine is called Generation X, which most of us have heard of, but they also started calling it 'The Boomerang Generation.' I wrote that a few months ago in my blog somewhere, I vaguely remember. Boomerangs, because we move out, and then come back home because we can't afford to live on our own - the rent is too high, the job market is too unstable, businesses go bankrupt one after another after another to infinity, the property taxes are too high, the housing and land prices are too high, and even after going to college and getting several degrees, people still can't get a stable job without getting laid off after a year or two, because there are NO BUSINESSES that can profit in a collapsing economy.

I know I'm not the only person having these problems. I make myself feel better by remembering that people were writing about chronic health problems a long time ago, that some of the famous poets and authors were 'sickly,' although back then it was because of air pollution, tuberculosis, and things like that. I also know that the unstable economy is everywhere, and that lots of other people can't keep a job for long, and it's been that way for years now. And after reading my books for the past few years, I have some understanding of how and why the economy and the money system are being destroyed.

So I know that I am not alone; and I also know that this is nowhere near as bad of a disaster as a lot of other things I have experienced. My life is not in immediate danger. I am going to fight and argue with my family for the next few days, and maybe the next few weeks, but it is going to settle down, and I am going to continue doing the things that I have been trying to do.

I got a good fortune cookie a couple weeks ago. It said, 'Notice the dream that keeps coming back. It is your destiny.' There are lots of things that I have been thinking about for years now, and some things that I have been thinking about since childhood, things that I have wanted to do, things that I thought were important - the dreams that keep coming back. I am still going to try to do those things.

sick day

spent the day lying around resting, feeling like a truck ran over me. don't know what the problem is. my muscles feel weak and sore and exhausted. i have no energy. my head hurts. barely able to move or hold my head up or walk around.

wasted day. didn't get anything done at all.

Tweet: I'm feeling much better now

i got a little bit of rest. i even have a sense of humor again.

a long time ago there was a show called 'night court.' there was a tinfoil hat guy (if i'm remembering the right show) who used to say that he was in the mental hospital, but he'd say 'i'm feeling muuuuch better now,' in a scary, creepy way. it might have been 'newhart' and it might have been 'cheers.' i remember back in the days when i used to watch television, i watched those shows with my parents. that was a pleasant memory.

i drove across town, and parked at tudek park. i rested in the car. i didn't fall asleep, except for a few seconds when i was hypnotized, but the rest of the time, i just laid there awake but resting. i've done this before, just go sit in the car at the park, and it made me feel better. it worked this time too.

at first, i could still hear some voices. there are unavoidable, quiet voices that seem to happen everywhere. but the leg torture wasn't happening. my legs felt just fine when i went across town and tried to sleep there.

after lying there about 15 minutes, somebody starting 'slipping' or 'buzzing' the place where my leg was pressed against the steering wheel. if you press part of your body against a hard surface, they will buzz the spot until it slips and gradually moves into a slightly different position. if you don't know you're being attacked, it seems as though it's just ordinary friction. but they will also make the muscles twitch around that location, and they also give it a recognizable tickling sensation just before the slip happens. i believe this particular attack is an ultrasonic attack, but i'm not sure. anything 'physical,' such as objects moving or making clicking noises, is probably sonic. (it's easier to imagine sound waves being able to vibrate things and move them.)

i adjusted the steering wheel so it was no longer against my leg. so that stopped happening.

they banged on my window a bunch of times, making a clicking noise as though an acorn or something fell from a tree, but there's nothing there. after doing that a few times, they quit for some reason, instead of doing it continuously.

after a while, most of the attacks seemed to stop. i still couldn't sleep, but i was able to rest. and i was getting a little bit of sunlight, which cheered me up. it's good to get a little bit of sun on your skin and in your eyes. the air was fresher, too - not moldy like in my house.

there were people at the park, people with kids, talking and laughing and playing around. it also cheered me up to be around people.

so... i'm watching a harry potter movie for the 621st time, for comfort, and i will start working again on the house. i play the movies whenever i have to do unpleasant housework.

i figured i would let everyone know that i was somewhat cheerful again.

rage incidents

i keep writing more blogs because i am getting hit with various drugs while going through stuff; and i tried to take a nap, which sjw makes me do, but i napped for only a few minutes (when one of the murderers forced me asleep) and then woke up very quickly afterwards (when a murderer forced me awake). then they were continually torturing my legs, making me wiggle my feet, and buzzing the air bubbles in my stomach.

since i have been hit with drugs several times, these things are triggering rage much more than usual. it hasn't yet been enough rage to make me punch the wall with my hand, or scream out loud, or throw something across the room, all of which i have done before.

i need to sleep, because if i slept really well, i would wake up happy and refreshed, and i would probably be able to pack up the rest of my belongings pretty quickly, and actually be cheerful about it too.

also, all day they've been bugging me because 'glow' is a weak translation of 'albright,' and they wanted me to find a better translation. 'lex' is fine with me if you think of 'lex luthor,' which is what i was getting at. i had seen something on the web mentioning a person by that name (m. luther) who was in iowa, and it was an older person, from the early part of the 1900s. i forget where i saw that reference or what it had to do with.

albright could be 'all right,' which is 'okay,' 'fine,' 'good,' etc. or it could be something else that means 'all,' like 'omni' or something, with a synonym for 'bright.' i do agree that glow is a sloppy, hasty translation.

they were pestering me about the weak translation, and since i was enraged, i was fighting back against them, because i am trying to block him out of my mind, and they keep reminding me of him, every day, over and over again. so every time they were saying the words 'lex glow' to me, i was responding to them by threatening to kill them, even though i don't know who they are or where they are and have no way of finding out where the voices are coming from. they were saying those words, while simultaneously triggering a fake, induced emotion of shame and humiliation.

anytime i do anything which is the slightest bit imperfect, dorky, or whatever, they remind me about it again and again all day long - this includes things like minor typographical errors sometimes - and they trigger the fake shame. so they were doing that to me all morning.

then they were saying 'you crossed the second line' because i put his real name up. supposedly i have to perform a series of tests in order to 'win' the 'game.' they also are hinting that i have to say something to one of his family members, and i am not looking forward to that. obviously, it will be another forced incident just like all the other ones.

Nonliving objects have feelings

i sometimes hate being 'thin-skinned'...

i am throwing away some clothes which are contaminated. i know from experience that when i would try to wear them, the drugs would go through my skin, and i would be uncomfortable for hours, and it wouldn't go away, and i could wash them dozens of times - i tried - and it won't wash out. i'm handling stuff that has a more benign residue, something like st. john's wort possibly, not ephedra. most of the really bad ephedra stuff is already long gone.

however, even though i know that i have to get rid of this stuff, it is heartbreaking to throw it away.

this has happened ever since i was a young child. i project feelings onto physical objects as though they are alive. i threw away a pair of old moldy shoes that had been soaked with water. they were sitting in a plastic bag alongside an empty bottle of starbucks frappucino.

i took out the bottle of frappucino and put it into my kitchen trash. then, i took the shoes down separately to the dumpster.

right away, i started thinking, the shoes had sat there with the starbucks bottle for so long, that they were friends and they would miss each other now that they were separated. it actually hurt me to put the starbucks bottle into a separate trash can than i was putting the moldy old shoes into. i guess i could bring the kitchen trash down and put it in the dumpster right now if i really wanted to.

but when this happens, when objects have feelings, i have to tell myself, these are not people, these are not animals, these are not my friends, family, children, they are not alive. material objects are nothing.

when i was a little kid, i never threw away an old toothbrush whenever the dentist gave me a new one. i kept all the old toothbrushes under the bathroom sink in the cabinet. i kept them there for years and didn't do anything with them. one time, my mom found this hoard and threw most of it away. i had several incidents like that, of hoarding things because objects had feelings and they didn't want to get thrown in the trash.

i was reading about scientology. scientology has a purification protocol. it's different from mine. in theirs, you take large amounts of vitamins. in mine, i avoid using vitamins because the vitamins themselves can be dangerous and cause more problems. anyway, i haven't read the detailed instructions on how to do scientology's 'purification rundown,' but i wonder if they have any knowledge about contaminated clothing with drug residues that go through the skin. they did mention something about using that purification rundown to help people who were working on cleaning up meth labs. meth labs are similar to my ephedra residues, in fact, ephedra is often used in meth labs, and it would be one of the residues that they are cleaning out of the area. they would have exactly the same experience with an extremely toxic, heart-attack-and-stroke inducing drug going directly through the skin and contaminating the clothing. so i wonder whether they (scientology) know about that phenomenon or not. i haven't read about this anywhere else, not in quite the level of detail that i have observed it.

anyway i wish that i had support, from somebody somewhere on earth, who could say to me, 'yes, you're right - there really are drug and chemical residues on those clothes you're throwing away, and yes, you're right, they won't wash out in the laundry.'

i hate throwing things away. i wish i didn't have to do it.

but i am reminding myself that the goal is to prepare for having children. the children cannot touch these residues. and i cannot touch them either, or it will be hard to get pregnant and not miscarry. not only that, it triggers incidents of 'unpredictable behavior' which put me at risk of people calling the police on me.

i was already 'anti-gift' before this contamination incident. now i am even MORE anti-gift. i HATE receiving gifts. it's more junk and clutter that will have to be moved from one apartment to the next. if you give me a gift, then you must be responsible for lifting it and carrying it up and down the stairs and renting out extra storage space to put it in, and cleaning it off when it gets contaminated.

it's possible to find a gift that i would enjoy receiving, but even i myself can't describe what type of gift that would be, i mean a nonliving physical object type of gift.

it's easier to throw things away whenever they are plain and not unique, when they are practical and functional instead of decorative, whenever they don't have any faces or images of animals or people or living things on them. i get the creeps from amish dolls that don't have any faces, but at the same time, i feel that way too - that it's even more painful when a toy or doll gets destroyed or thrown away, if it has a cute face or a sad face and you can project feelings onto it. if something is blank and faceless it's easier to get rid of it or accept that it gets destroyed.

so, for instance, it's easier for me to throw away my plain white socks, which tend to get the most contaminated because of being in my shoes which touch the carpet - anything which gets near or on the carpet gets contaminated.

i am buying really cheap clothes at goodwill, and avoiding anything that's unique. it has to be generic and something that i don't like all that much, yet i have to be able to tolerate wearing it for a while.

i was really excited because i found a pair of pants that were made out of tencel. and i think they were $0.29 (for some reason, they changed it to 29 instead of 25). tencel is a fabric that i really like - it's like cotton, except it's manmade - and a few years ago, i had a couple of shirts that were... inappropriate to be worn in public, i should say, which were tencel and very soft and very thin. the fabric is drastically different from polyester - i loathe polyester, i can't stand it, i can't stand how it feels. but tencel feels just like cotton, but even softer and more rippling. it breathes, and it doesn't get staticky. i cannot wear staticky fabrics, especially with long hair.

anyway, i found those tencel pants, and right away i said no, i refuse to buy these. i could not bear to throw away something so nice as a 29 cent pair of tencel pants when that was such a wonderful find. every time i get ready to buy something, i ask myself if i can imagine throwing it away.

after i go to the new place, the carpet won't be contaminated. but my car seat will still be, and also the car floor. but i expect that my clothing will be reusable - i am praying that i will work, that i won't have the contamination problem anymore, when i no longer have pants leg cuffs dragging on the carpet. it will be greatly reduced, but not completely gone, with the little bit still in the car.

well... back to cleaning up.