Plot Hole: Why does the Marauder's Map keep crashing?

I was listening to the scene where Harry and Hermione are hiding in a broom closet after going three hours back in time. (I've been listening to the audiobook CDs for hours and hours and hours...) Hermione was saying that she could hear the three of them, themselves, walking out in the hallway under the invisibility cloak. It suddenly occurred to me: What would they have seen on the Marauder's Map at that moment? Were they looking at the map while they were under the cloak? I couldn't remember if they had it or not.

It doesn't matter if they were. They could have been. Somebody, anybody at all, could have been looking at the Marauder's Map. Not only does it show Ron's rat as 'Peter Pettigrew...' but it also would have shown Harry and Hermione hiding in the broom closet while Harry, Hermione, and Ron were also walking by in the hallway under the cloak!

On other days, Harry would have seen two or three Hermiones in several different classrooms at once, as she was using the Time Turner to go to her classes!

If the Marauder's Map were a computer program, it would have 'crashed' every time Hermione went back in time and appeared in a different room while another one of her was somewhere else. The Marauder's Map would go to the 'Beige Screen of Death' (BSOD) and blanked itself out every time this happened, because it wouldn't have known how to deal with showing more than one Hermione, or more than one of anybody, every time they traveled in time. If it was able to display them, somebody would have found out the secret much sooner, and would have noticed that Hermione was in several places at once.

It's not really a 'plot hole,' it's more like a 'vulnerability.' It COULD have happened. Maybe they were just lucky enough that Harry never glanced at the map, and neither did anyone else, during the moments when Hermione was time traveling. Still... I was laughing when I thought of it. It could've happened....

Employee evaluations; my arts and crafts business fantasy

1:51 PM 1/6/11

I'm not sure yet what time I should leave, because I have to go someplace else before I go to work. I have to go meet the manager at a hotel, so that I can get my employee evaluation. They do this every year. I know, it sounds very exciting to meet the manager at a hotel and get evaluated. But it will be done in a large, open room with other people there, so it's not quite how it sounds.

I'm just glad to get an evaluation. There have been particular managers, during particular time periods, who didn't give evaluations like they were supposed to, and we never got raises, not even small ones. And when they sent Peter to Milesburg, back when he was still working, he said he never got any evaluations at all, and no raises at all. Milesburg is one of the lowest-wage McDs around here, from what I'm told. My way of looking at it, after years of reading books and websites about Libertarianism and anarchism, is that I don't expect to be entitled to getting a raise or having a high-paying job. I believe that the government has made it so expensive and hard to run a business that they can't afford to pay high wages or overtime pay.

I have a horrible cold. I guess it's not horrible compared to some people's, and I'm getting over it now.

I'm having trouble emailing Carrie, but we have gotten a few messages through. I'm just not sure if ALL of them are getting through. She sometimes stops answering and then a few weeks later I get a message saying 'What's going on? I've been emailing you and you haven't been answering,' which is typical for me in the past few years, with my email harassment.

She and I have been talking about Curtis and trying to set a boundary of what would be appropriate behavior for me, since she is his fiancee. And I am very glad to be talking about setting boundaries. This is what I was afraid of all along. I get 'urged' to do something that I don't really approve of, but I agree to it, and I put myself at risk. If I scare them or give them the creeps somehow, or if I make them feel like they're in danger, or if they get sick of my inappropriate behavior, then they might call the police or get me thrown in a mental hospital. So I wanted to talk to them about boundaries all this time. I feel humiliated to talk about it, but it's necessary.

She said that I was telling him I loved him, in the notes, and that was making her uncomfortable, so I was trying to tell her that I would stop giving notes to him, but I don't know if my emails are getting to her or not. I tried to tell the truth: I said that I could stop writing to him, but if I felt like he was in danger again, like signing up for the army or something like he did before, then I would panic and I would be trying desperately to reach him again, and so I would probably start trying to find him and give him notes, assuming email wasn't working.

The feeling of humiliation: I can postpone the direct conflicts and direct confrontations, I can avoid them for a while, but sooner or later, somebody will always say, 'Hey, you're sending these emails or writing these letters, this isn't right,' and so on. That is what happens inevitably when 'they' urge me to do things that I think I shouldn't be doing. It's humiliating whenever the confrontation finally occurs. A false sense of security collapses. There is this feeling, whenever 'the voices' tell me to do something, a false sense of security, a feeling that if the voices are telling me to do this, then I can't possibly be in danger from doing it - only to find that yes, I am in danger.

So I'll see if she gets my message or not; I'll give it a couple days.

****
I need to get another second job, and I did put out one application and I'm going to try to go talk to them again, talk to a manager. But meanwhile, I've been fantasizing about starting my own business. I've fantasized about this for many years now. I would be happy with something arts-and-crafts related. I've always been artistic. I drew pictures when I was young, and as an adult, I decided that writing music was more important to me than drawing pictures, so I've neglected drawing for a few years now and instead have wanted to write music, and I have some partial song fragments on the computer, but that is all. I've also done some crafts like sewing, and when I was little, I hand-sewed a lion out of old scrap fabric, and I stuffed him with shedded dog hair from brushing our white Samoyed dog, Crystal. I didn't use fake stuffing. I think it's kind of funny that I used her real natural hair instead of that synthetic stuffing. The lion always had kind of a sour, wet-dog smell, forever. I like the idea of using natural animal hair for stuffing.

So anyway I've been fantasizing about starting a business, and imagining how I would calculate the prices and the profits and the hours of time spent, and all that. I would pay myself an hourly wage because I have to compare it to what I would make doing a 'real' job. Now that I think about it, I ought to pay myself the BEFORE tax wage. I've been imagining the AFTER tax wage. But in reality, the employer has to pay the full amount and pay the taxes. I should use that amount.

Sales of an arts and crafts item, like stuffed animals, would be slow. Only a very small number of people would buy one, and it would only happen once in a while. Months might go by without someone buying one. People will buy essential things like food because they can't stop buying them, but they are able to survive without buying arts and crafts.

But arts and crafts are the WHOLE POINT of starting my own business. I want to do something that I enjoy, instead of just making food. And it would be something that doesn't require a huge investment in technology - for instance, I've thought that there is a need for building shielded boxes for targeted individuals, to block against both electromagnetic and sonic attacks. But that is a 'scientific' project and I would have to do lots of research and hire engineers to work with me and it would require a lot of money, and it wouldn't necessarily be something that I would 'enjoy' doing. I could do it, but it wouldn't be happy work. Arts and crafts, however, is happy work. I do it because it's fun. It isn't necessary, and people will survive without it, but I'd enjoy it.

I'm categorizing these things as 'nonessential durable goods.' My fantasies all fall into that category. Stuffed animals are nonessential durable goods, and so are music CDs, which I could sell. Music CDs might sell better than stuffed animals. I could make a video game, too, although I would need help from people who know how to program, because I have only a few tiny bits of programming knowledge, and it's been years so I've forgotten it all. But a video game is a nonessential durable good too. And I could write books, and they are in that same category. Sales will be slow and occasional. Only a few people will buy one now and then. You have to advertise in a lot of places to let people know you exist. You have to sell it someplace where it can sit on a shelf without you watching over it. I've thought about consignment stores, where you give it to them, and it sits on the shelf, and if it sells, then they pay you for it. That's my understanding of what a consignment store is. The idea is that you can't be in a hundred places at once, so you will have to pay somebody to sit there with the item, and take money from people who buy it, at a flea market or wherever, and it's cheaper if you can just let it sit on the shelf and let somebody else take the money for it.

At Wal-Mart, a million different businesses make 'stuff' and then they sell it to Wal-Mart and they let it sit on the shelves, at hundreds of different stores around the country. They don't have to sit there guarding their own 'stall' and taking the money whenever people want to buy that particular item. Instead, Wal-Mart shoppers buy things from lots and lots of different 'craftsmen' and take them all up to the cashiers. It isn't like an arts and crafts fair where you have your own stall and you spend hours sitting there waiting for someone to buy something. All of that time sitting there is a 'cost of sales.' You're 'selling' the product by sitting there at that table waiting for customers. You could've spent those hours working at a minimum-wage job, so you have to calculate how much money you're missing out on by sitting at that table 'selling' your crafts.

(Yes, I've had a caffeine pill this morning. I noticed that I repeated myself several times in several different ways in that paragraph. Writing a lot without saying anything is one of my caffeine symptoms.)

I like the idea of a big building, like Wal-Mart, except it's a flea market, and local people bring in their 'stuff' and they can leave it unattended on the shelves. They could even bring local food products, too. Actually, at the antique store where I buy my bullion coins, it works that way - lots of different antique dealers leave their stuff there in the building, but only a couple of people actually sit there guarding it and selling it. The cost of the building would be a lot less if we were allowed to do it outdoors in an open air market, but it would be less guarded against theft, and more people would have to sit at each individual stall.

Anyway, this is all just a fantasy, because in reality, I need to start earning money RIGHT NOW. I need to fix my car's bumper, and I got the insurance money and then used some of it to pay my bills and my rent instead of fixing the car, because I lost my second job at Weis. Any arts and crafts work will be a slow-growing project, and I MIGHT POSSIBLY start making a profit, maybe a year or two in the future, after investing a lot of work into it.

That is how it is when you start your own business. It takes a couple years before you actually earn anything back. Don't quit your day job. That is always my advice. Don't quit your day job, and also, don't borrow money. I know, if nobody ever borrowed any money or took any risks, nothing would ever get done. But I think with the economy the way it is, and the banking system the way it is, that it's not safe to try to start a business on borrowed money anymore. This is a complicated subject and I don't have time to write about it. It's just my personal opinion, that it's not safe to borrow money for starting up a business.

Anyway, I like how it feels, trying to calculate my expenses and profits on 'nonessential durable goods' like my music CDs with songs I wrote by myself. It's amazing and unthinkable to imagine that yes, somebody somewhere WOULD buy one, at least one, once in a while. Somebody would. It might not be tons of people, and I couldn't quit my day job right away, but a teeny, tiny number of people would buy something for real. There would be the satisfaction of selling something I made, even though it wasn't profitable and I couldn't sell it FAST enough to pay the bills - I'd have to sell lots and lots and lots of them, whatever they were, stuffed animals or music CDs or clothing items or books, every month, every week, over and over and over, forever, to earn enough to pay the bills. Or I'd have to charge a huge amount of money, and have only one sale once in a while, but it's so profitable that I can pay the bills for a month on only one sale. Whichever scenario I chose, I'd feel good selling something that I made by myself.

I'm reluctantly going to start getting ready for work. I still haven't decided what time I'll go to the evaluation.

Still can't sync my iPod to iTunes!

Update: I solved this problem. Look here: http://retmeishka.wordpress.com/2010/12/28/my-ipod-synced/. I had to do this:

1. Get your computer online. I had to go to a wi-fi place to connect my laptop, but you might use cable internet or whatever.
2. Open iTunes. Go to the iTunes store online.
3. Log in to iTunes.
4. THEN connect your iPod to the computer.
5. A user agreement should appear automatically. This can only happen if your computer is connected to iTunes and logged in.
6. Say yes to whatever on the user agreement and do whatever they tell you to do, and after that, you should be able to connect the iPod and open it without any problems... hopefully.


***************
ARRGGGHHH! The F-Word was used. I STILL can't sync my iPod to iTunes.

Here is what I do.

I've shut my iPod all the way off and I've restarted it.
I've shut my netbook all the way off and I've restarted it.

ITunes is open on the netbook. I connect the iPod (which is turned on) to the cord. 'Devices' appears in the list in iTunes, and 'iPod Touch' is listed.

(*I learned that I was making it disappear completely because I was pressing the 'eject' button. There is a little triangle with a line under it, to the right of 'iPod Touch,' and I didn't know it meant 'eject.' There's no way of knowing, because in this non-user-friendly computer program, it doesn't show a little popup explanation for a meaningless symbol when you mouse over it. (I found this out by right-clicking.) I thought it meant 'show the contents of this device,' or something like that. So all you see is a meaningless triangle with a line under it, and you have no way of knowing that means 'eject.' Especially since it doesn't make sense to eject an iPod which is connected to a physical cable, and nothing actually happens physically to the iPod when you push 'eject.' It just disappears from the list and is gone forever... unless you unplug the iPod and plug it back in. Then it reappears in the list! That's the first time I was able to make it reappear without totally restarting iTunes.*)

Edit/Preferences/Devices/'Prevent devices from syncing automatically' is NOT checked.

File/'Sync songs on iPod' is grayed out. File/'Transfer purchases from iPod' is grayed out. I cannot click on either of those at all.

Well, here is something suspicious that happens, which gives me a clue to what I need to do. When I connect the iPod, and it appears under 'devices,' a message appears. It says 'iTunes could not connect to the iTunes Store.'

That's why I suspected I might need to authorize my laptop. I figured it might be looking to find my account online at the iTunes Store so that it could try to authorize the computer. But today, I did that, and it still didn't make that message go away. For some reason, it still tries to look at the iTunes Store every time I connect my iPod. And since I don't have wi-fi at home, and since I didn't think to bring my iPod with me when I took my netbook to Barnes & Noble to use their wi-fi... AND since I only have dialup at home, and no dialup modem in my netbook... then I can't connect to the net unless I get in my car and go back out. And it's the Sunday after Christmas, so the library isn't open in Bellefonte, which is why I was doing it all the way in State College at B&N. I don't want to drive all the way back there again, just to see what happens when the netbook is able to reach the iTunes store after I connect my iPod touch to it.

Pet peeve. I *HATE* things that only work when you're online, things that constantly need to download something, things that can't be read offline, and so on. Most of the time, I'm not connected to the internet. I want everything to work independently, all by itself, when I'm not connected to anything. The iPod touch's user guide requires you to go to apple.com to view it - it has no help file saved on the iPod at all. Supposedly this is to save space... but how much space would it really use?

All of this trouble to protect songs from being shared for free... when almost all of the songs that I want to play are FREE electronic songs I downloaded from mp3.com (when it still existed) and soundclick.com, songs that their composers said you were ALLOWED to download for free.

Well... so the next test is, take it to a wi-fi place, both the netbook and the iPod and the connector cable. I won't forget next time. I can't believe it still won't sync. The instructions make it sound like it should be perfectly easy to sync to your iPod. It doesn't say ANYTHING about requiring an internet connection to do this. Apparently they just assume that, of course, EVERYONE is always connected to an always-on cable connection, and NOBODY would ever be using their netbook in a situation where they can't connect to the net.

anarchism, second job, visiting curtis, resting on thanksgiving day

3:27 PM 11/25/10

I am home from work because it's Thanksgiving, but I am not going anywhere to eat dinner. I'm invited to go with my aunts and cousins, and also Peter and Tammy invited me, but I'm going to just stay home and rest. Rest is what I want more than anything else. Trying to have fun on a holiday isn't usually much fun for me. Sometime in the future, it might be, but right now no.

The air is fresh and sweet outside today. I went out to get some bottled water out of my car and the sweetness of the air surprised me. It was cold and silent and full of rainfall. It often feels that way on holidays. I think maybe there aren't as many cars driving on holidays, and that's why the air is sweet.

I saw Curtis yesterday. I went looking for him, when I was finally able to get up and out of bed. I didn't see him in the store, so I bought a couple of small things and left. As I was walking towards the door, he came out of a small room nearby and looked right at me. So we walked outside together and sat on the bench where he had a cigarette. He said he was off work and waiting for his ride to pick him up.

I didn't have a panic attack, and I didn't start crying either. I was only a little nervous at first. I hope that I can get used to visiting him. It was something that I did on purpose, as a duty, an obligation.

I sat, like, three feet away from him on the bench, leaving him plenty of space. I didn't touch him at all. We talked for a few minutes about Christmas and some other things and then he finished his cigarette. I let him go back inside, and I said goodbye and went to my car.

I am glad I got to see him. And he mentioned again that I hadn't written much on facebook. It's true, I didn't bombard him with letters, because I was trying to take it easy after he and I had a couple days of big, long letters back and forth to each other, and I thought, he can't possibly like this, and I thought that I talk too much. But no, he wanted me to write to him again. I thought I had to give him a break for a couple of days, and I didn't want to push my luck. So after I got home I sent him another letter and I showed him two photos where he and his son Caden were in the same position and making the same face and they looked exactly alike. He even has Curtis's ears. They are the same shape and they stick out at exactly the same angle. I love his ears, so this is a good thing. He has both ears double pierced and I always stare at them when we're talking.

As of right now, it's my official duty to try to see him once every other week. If I could, I'd see him like three times a week or something, and I would be all over him hugging and kissing and snuggling, but instead I am going to give him a lot of space and try to act like an ordinary friend instead of the 'friend who adores you and wants to have sex with you even though you have a girlfriend and you guys are getting married sometime.' So I have to be an ordinary friend. I'm not even touching him yet, not even a little bit. I'm not sure when I will feel comfortable enough to do that. But like I said, I didn't cry or have a panic attack, so I am feeling a little more trusting and comfortable now.

In case you are a new reader who doesn't know what's going on, Curtis and I used to work together, but he lost his job, and I wanted to keep visiting him at his new job, and I was devastated that I couldn't see him at work anymore. So every time I went looking for him, I was crying and upset because I missed him and he was gone from my life. That's making a long story short. It took a while before I could actually FIND him at his new job, and I spent a few weeks sending letters to him begging him to tell me to quit stalking him, because I was scared that he didn't want to see me and that sooner or later he would have me arrested for stalking. But actually he wants to see me, or at least, he is able to tolerate it.

****
'They' think that the reason the Harry Potter and Hermione dance scene affected me so strongly was because I myself am in a position of being attracted to someone who is loyal to his real girlfriend. Every time I saw that scene in the movie, the voice whispered the word 'letdown' after it was over, and now they said 'letdown' after I walked away from Curtis without touching him. I checked the book when I was at Barnes & Noble. It wasn't in the book. It was added to the movie. The scene does resemble how he and I are together: we've been friends for a long time, I've always been attracted to him, and we've enjoyed being together, and we have had fun together, but he is loyal to his girlfriend and he probably would stop me if I tried to do anything that went beyond being friendly. I don't know. He always tolerated it when I touched him, but I was doing things like patting him on the back. And he wasn't always with his girlfriend during the time when we worked together, and he was more open to me when he wasn't dating anybody.

Anyway, I saw him, and I plan to see him again.

Another good thing: I am going to try again to get a second job. My bank account has been quickly draining down, which always happens when I have only one job. My rent is too high, and I need a roommate, but I can't have one unless I clean up the drug residue on the carpet, and I've already talked about that too much in my blog. I need to get that fixed. But I want to have a secure income first before I do anything else. I had tons of money when I was working at Weis and McDonald's, and then I quit Weis and I quickly used up the money I had. I'm ready to fill out job applications again, and so, yesterday, I picked up a couple when I was in town, when I went to visit Curtis.

I feel like everybody already knows this, but, I am an anarchist, and before I called myself an anarchist, I started out as a Libertarian and Objectivist, after reading the books of Ayn Rand. I decided to go all the way to 'anarchist' after I learned that the hackers are controlling the computers where they record the numbers of our votes. It isn't the electronic voting machines that we have to worry about, although there are some problems with those too. But they are a red herring, a distraction from the real problem. The real problem is that our votes get counted, and then the numbers get sent to an ordinary, insecure, internet-connected computer with a plain old Excel spreadsheet on it, and then, the hackers change the numbers in the cells on the spreadsheet. It's so easy to do, a script kiddie could do it. You don't even have to be an expert hacker. You don't have to do anything that requires a lot of knowledge or expertise. So our votes don't matter at all. It's all fake. So I am an anarchist, because our votes have no connection to the results of the election.

After the election of George Bush Jr., there was an article written called 'Evidence Mounts that the Vote Was Hacked.' Or it might have been called 'Evidence Mounts that the Vote Has Been Hacked.' It's on the internet. It's the only article that I ever saw that was written about this, but I knew it was the truth. I had been getting harassed by computer hackers since about the year 2000, so I already knew that they were everywhere. Reading that article was the last straw. I decided that voting was completely and totally hopeless. At first I had thought that voting was just difficult, but not impossible. I thought that there might be SOME hope of changing the government by voting. But now I don't think so anymore. The entire voting system is completely and totally corrupt and fake, and there is no connection at all between our votes and who gets elected - NONE.

Oh... why was I talking about anarchism? Because I was going to say, I hate the labor laws. I shouldn't have to get a second job if I want to work more than forty hours a week. But employers can't afford to pay overtime pay. If you work more than 40 hours, then they have to pay you 1.5 times your usual wage for every hour over 40. So if I work 50 hours, then 10 of those hours are overtime. If I usually made $5 an hour, then I would be making $7.50 an hour during those 10 hours of overtime. Instead of doing that, businesses always just hire extra people, and they make sure that nobody ever works more than 40 hours a week. The end.

So nobody can make enough money. There is an upper limit on how much money you are allowed to make in one week. If you are only allowed to work 40 hours, and you make $5 an hour, then $200 is the maximum amount of money that you are allowed to make in one week. This law is insanely stupid and it needs to be repealed. But the best we can hope for is that maybe, someday, the government will allow you to voluntarily opt out of the law - that you might be allowed to say to your employer, 'I don't want to get paid overtime pay. I want to work at my normal wage even if I'm working 50 hours a week.' Then, of course, all of the other ignorant people will get mad at you, because they believe they're ENTITLED to get overtime pay, and they believe it's bad and evil and wrong to NOT get paid overtime pay, and they'll be jealous of you and they'll say they wish they could do that too, but at the same time they don't think it's right. So you'll have conflicts with your co-workers if you have any co-workers who are brainwashed more than most people. (Usually, when I talk about this, some of the people kind of agree with me, but there's always some brainwashed person who insists that overtime pay is a good thing, and they're always mad at the employers when the employers refuse to let them work more than 40 hours a week and get overtime pay.)

The only way to get more than that 'upper limit' of money is to get a second job. It's pointless, inconvenient, harmful, and stupid. This law is the #1 most stupid and most obvious law that I would change immediately if I had the power to change a law. It would make so many people's lives easier if they could simply keep working extra hours at one job to go above the 'upper limit' that they can get if they work 40 hours.

They might think that it's easy to get a second job. But it's hard to schedule it. At least one of your jobs has to have flexible scheduling. McDonald's is well known for having flexible scheduling, and I read in a magazine that McDonald's was listed as one of the top ten best places to work, partly because of their flexible schedules, and I agree with that - I like this job for a lot of reasons, and I like it a lot more than other places I've worked, and I can work whatever hours I need to work, at whatever time I want. When you get two jobs, at least one of them needs to let you start work after your other job ends. And you have to be able to limit your availability at both jobs. You have to work in the morning at one, and the evening at the other. Or work overnight at one, and evening at the other. And so on. You can't have one of your jobs say, 'Your schedule has to be totally open, and you have to be available anytime we want you to come in.' If they say that to you, then you're screwed. It means you can't get a second job, because you are going to have unpredictable scheduling, and so you're stuck making that 'upper limit' amount of money for only 40 hours a week at your one job, unless they let you work overtime, which is unusual.

I HATE THIS LAW.

There are other laws that the libertarians and anarchists hate, but a lot of those laws affect other people, so we can't see them directly. But we have direct personal experience with the overtime pay law. I can see it and I can see how it directly affects my life. I can see how much easier and simpler my life would be without that law. This law is visible to millions of ordinary people, and LOTS of those people believe that the law is stupid and harmful.

There are lots of other laws I hate. I hate paying income taxes. I hate fiat money. I hate the banking system. I can't list all the laws I hate.

There are some laws that I disagree with, but it's not a big issue for me, although it is for some people. For instance, I don't think it should be illegal to go outside naked. You shouldn't get arrested for nudity. However, I really don't care that much about that law, most of the time. My quality of life isn't that badly affected by this. I can tolerate this law. But the income taxes, THEY have a big effect on my life. Because of the taxes, I have to work thousands and thousands of extra hours, to pay for *NOTHING*. Or pay for things I don't want, like, pay the soldiers to go kill people in other countries, which I don't want them to do. My money is used for that.

This is why I'm interested in intentional communities. I can't control the government at all because of the vote hackers. The only thing I can do is join with like-minded people to work together and build a new culture.

I don't usually talk about this subject (anarchism), because so many other authors have already written about it, and they've explained it so much better than I can. I'm just agreeing with them.

I called myself a 'minarchist' for a couple of years while I still believed in voting. It means that I believed in SMALL government, minimal, as little as possible. But now I am totally disconnected from the government, and I call myself an anarchist, and I only obey them so that I don't get thrown in jail. (I'm thinking of Curtis, who drove his car without a license, after he lost his license for drunk driving, and he got arrested again and lost his license again for another whole year. Originally it was nine months. So he will have gone 21 months without a license.)

Anyway... I'll just post this for now.

Amish milk, and a fistful of glitter, and my butt's fat again

7:19 PM 8/16/10

(*This is a very disorganized post, with several different subjects.  I'm probably already suffering from ADD from drinking milk, and from quitting coffee.  I started on a couple subjects, wandered to something else, and never really finished all the things I had meant to talk about... and by the time I was done, I didn't care whether I wrote about all those things or not.  So if you feel like I went on a tangent and never came back, you're right.*)

Why did my butt get fat this month?

changes in drug residues
one tiny sip of milk wasn't enough? maybe it is. maybe one tiny sip causes ovulation later on
but i'm drinking amish milk today and it goes to my butt and breasts instantly; i'll look like i looked in college; i lost my college weight by quitting whole milk
milk is addictive; as soon as i've had one glass, i start craving more later on
i ovulated much more than usual this month for unknown reasons
peter's wellbutrin - maybe wellbutrin triggers ovulation
peter's other new drugs
put vinyl on my car seat, which means i withdrew from sjw; the withdrawal can cause weight gain

I had been wondering where I could buy raw milk.

The milk I get at the grocery stores usually is sour when I buy it. I think it's held at warm temperatures during shipping and handling. It usually makes me sick at my stomach. Even the Meyer Dairy milk made me sick, although it tasted fresh. So I wanted to try fresh raw milk.

I saw a sign near the town of Howard when I was out driving my car. It was next to a little farm, and at the time, I didn't know it was an Amish farm. It said they had fresh raw milk for sale.

A couple weeks ago I finally went there. I drove up the gravel road and saw an Amish man working on fixing something next to the driveway, some wooden thing. I stopped my car and asked him where I could buy the milk, and whether this was a bad time. He told me it was up the hill at the barn, right where they were milking, and he said it was a good time.

After I drove up, a little boy opened the door of the barn. He might have been about seven years old - I'm not sure if I can guess someone's age very well. He asked me if he could help me with anything. We'd never seen each other before, so it was awkward and anxious for both of us. I was on drugs at the time, I think, so I might have had more intense feelings than usual.

I bought a half gallon of milk for $1.50, and got a free little pint of mint tea, which was very good. A half gallon is too much for me, but that was the smallest size.

When he said goodbye to me, he gave me a polite smile that wasn't really a smile.

I only tried a small sip of it. I wasn't sure if it would agree with my stomach. I haven't had milk to drink in years, although I eat cheese and I drink milkshakes. I had some problems with milk a few years ago and stopped drinking it. But if it's very fresh, I might be able to - that was the idea. I tried only a sip, and never finished the half gallon, and I left it in the fridge for days and days and it spoiled.

This time when I drove up and he asked if he could help me, and I wondered if I could buy some milk, he smiled and he was more relaxed and genuine. He recognized me from the last time I was there. He opened the door and he was barefoot. 'We have cheese now,' he said. They had made all different kinds of cheese. I kneeled down and got in the fridge, which was right in the doorway of the barn, while he held the door open. I got a block of Swiss cheese along with my milk and my jug of tea. I thanked him and said I had enjoyed the mint tea last time. He told me they have a concentrate of it, and he opened the freezer door - all you have to do is mix it with water. I didn't buy that, because I don't have a container to put it in, but I might next time I'm there.

I thanked him again.

The feeling I had for this little boy was, 'I love you. I would do anything for you. I'll stay with you and I won't ever leave you.'

I don't have any children. I'm not used to the feelings that children can give you. Children are supposed to make you feel that way.

I've seen hyperactive children, tortured by the poisons of modern society. I was one of them before I got on the Feingold Diet. I see them at McDonald's. A mother was fighting with her son who was having a tantrum as they were leaving. He was screaming and crying. I felt a terrible feeling: 'I hate you. I loathe you. You disgust me.' I know it's not really me that feels that way. I felt sorry for the kid. It was the way he was crying, screaming, and begging his mom to let him keep playing, to not punish him, he promised he wouldn't do it again, PLEASE, I PROMISE, crying and screaming - he HATED himself, I could feel it by listening to him. He hated himself, he loathed himself.

I feel like I would almost marry an Amish man. I am close to being Amish myself in many ways. There are some differences. But I would like to learn how they work. I want to learn how to make a profit on a farm when you aren't using motor-driven tractors or electricity. (They use gas-powered appliances, though - the refrigerator had to be. I'd like to avoid using fossil fuel appliances because I get sick from their fumes.)

I'm different from the Amish because I'm not Christian and I don't think I ever could be. That is the reason for the order of retmeishka.

But I feel that Amish society is closer to being a healthy society than 'English' society. It gives me a model of how things can be, of how a religion can be. I have more respect for the Amish than I do for most English people.

I might find out that I'm too allergic to milk to keep on drinking it; this is only an experiment. I might find that it makes me too fat too quickly, and I'm not exercising enough to burn off the fat. I might find that I'm getting rashes or having other problems. I might find that it's making me hyperactive or ADD. I'm not sure yet how I'll react to drinking a lot of it. I don't have a scale in my bathroom right now, so I can't watch the changes in my weight.

I got a fat butt this month, out of nowhere, for no reason. I wasn't aware of changing my diet. I just suddenly got a very fat butt. I ate McDonald's food a few more times than usual. I was exposed to Peter's Wellbutrin and have been contaminated with it several times. I patched up something that was toxic and was exposing me to St. John's Wort residues, my car seat. All of those things have caused me to have weight changes in the past, and it's always my big butt that I notice first.

It might go away next month, or it might not. If I'm successful at drinking milk, I will probably gain ten or fifteen more pounds, and I'm not used to that. I weighed 145 in college, when I was eating in the cafeteria and drinking several glasses of whole milk every day. I stopped drinking the whole milk, switched to skim, and immediately lost the weight very quickly. I also started taking walks, but I was always taking walks, so that probably didn't explain it - I can't remember when I was walking more and when I was walking less.

So whole milk makes you get fat very quickly. That's all I know. I'm drinking it because of the Weston Price diet, wondering if it will affect my teeth. I've had painful teeth for the past few weeks. Bruxism from St. John's Wort exposure and Wellbutrin exposure - those drugs both make me clench my teeth. I think that's why they're hurting more than usual.

I can't believe this - I just drank a small glass of milk, then another one, and now I'm craving another one. I can't believe how much of it I want to drink. It's really addictive. Now, these are small glasses - less than eight ounces, I think - I'm not sure. Little plastic cups. I'll just drink as much as I crave, and this will be an experiment. I will probably get very fat very quickly. I'll have to buy a scale at Wal-Mart.

There is a sarcastic voice in my head, and I know it's not me, but it says, maybe if I get fat, Curtis will love me. Ha ha. He's dating a girl who looks so much like his mother, from a distance, that the first time I saw her, I thought that's who she was. She is about the same height and weight. 'Pleasantly plump,' and insecure about her weight, as some people have made fun of her and called her 'hippo,' even though she's not really that fat. She will probably lose weight as I think she's moved out of her parents' house - that usually makes people lose weight. Her diet will change and so will her environmental illnesses, whatever drug residues, mold, and anything else might be making people sick in her family's house, if anything is there. She will probably be thin after a while. She's going to be a nurse, a CNA, she said on facebook. She's not using facebook at all anymore, and neither is Curtis - I'm thinking maybe they moved into their own place and they don't have an internet connection at all right now. They don't need to socialize - they have each other. They're getting married.

I talked to him Sunday afternoon when we were both leaving, but we didn't get deep enough into our conversation. I haven't been able to look at him for several weeks, or just barely. I haven't been able to talk to him either, and have had few opportunities. He called out to me as I was walking to my car to leave, and I couldn't really hear him, so I said, 'what?' and looked past the bushes that were blocking my view, and I could see him sitting on the sidewalk waiting for Carrie to pick him up. I walked over to him because I couldn't hear if he was calling for me to come over, or what. I got there, and sat down next to him, and he said, 'I was just saying goodbye.' But I sat there while he smoked. I didn't leave. I felt that I probably should leave.

I had asked him earlier that day, 'Do you remember telling me to leave you alone?' (In a text message, after I had sent him a very long text message.) He said, 'Yes - as friends?' I didn't really understand that, and I started to cry, so I quickly walked away and I said, 'I had to find out whether it was really from you. You know why.' (Because of the hackers and the possibility that someone would be writing things to hurt me that weren't really from him.) I walked away, made it into the deli without crying, and then tried to go back to doing my job, but I couldn't, not for a minute, so I went into the back room of the deli, and I suppressed the sobbing in my throat, and then the tears started coming out. I cried for a minute, but not long, and then I was able to get back to work. I felt depressed and sick for several hours. I was affected by drug residues, but for right now, I will probably keep on being affected by various drugs, because I can't get away from them at the moment, so my feelings will be more intense and they will vary from day to day, with my mood swings.

When I sat next to him on the sidewalk I still remembered that I was leaving him alone. I wouldn't look directly at him, because looking at him is too intense. He is beautiful to me. I love to look into his eyes. I would love to touch him. So I looked at anything but him, and I sat there, cold and serious, talking to him like a 'friend.' We mostly talked about my work schedule, about how many hours I was getting at my two jobs right now. And he said that his life sucked, and every time it seemed like things were going okay, something else bad would happen and mess things up even more. I wanted to know what was going on, but there wasn't enough time to talk deeply. Carrie was on the way. And he asked me how I was doing, and I said, 'It's a long story.' 'I've got time,' he said, and I made a bitter smile, but said nothing. You don't have THIS MUCH time. I would love to tell you. But it's boring and depressing, and nobody understands it but me. For a chronic-fatigued person, most of my life is what happens in the world of my reading and writing on the computer, and the thoughts that I'm thinking while I lie in bed talking to the voices. That is my life. Nothing is really 'happening.' But I would tell you if I had a moment or two to relax. I would tell you a little bit of it. If I could find one tiny bit of hopefulness or something positive in it, I would tell you. I don't want to tell it to you while it's still hopeless and going nowhere. There's nothing you can do.

He told me that the store manager was bullying him - and I use the word 'bullying' because I read an online article about bullying today. Curtis himself didn't use that word. He just said that the store manager was talking to him and doing things to him that made him angry and he was sick of it. I've heard the way he talks to him. Curtis said that the store manager asked Brandon, 'Is Curtis texting?' right after Brandon himself had been texting. Curtis got in trouble for doing something that the department manager had been doing. He was walking around with him telling him what to do and talking to him like a child - I heard him. He said, 'CURTIIIIS.....' in a threatening tone the way you threaten a dog or a child with your voice. He isn't a child. He's a nineteen year old who looks like a young teenager because he has fetal alcohol syndrome, which causes him to be very small. (And that is why a hebephile like myself is so attracted to him.) So you have to talk to him with respect.

It wasn't long, only a couple minutes, that we sat coldly next to each other with a space in between us, not looking directly at each other, talking about things that weren't really deep.

I asked him, 'How did you and Carrie meet each other?' This was something I had wondered for a long time. 'At a party,' he said, and he said nothing else about that.

There are things I want to know. The voices in my head were wondering these things when I was bored at work that day, when I had nothing to do because I was working in the front part of the deli department and we had no customers, so we just stood there, and I stared at things, while standing next to Mary. I had asked Mary how she met her husband. And I wanted to ask, 'What do you think about when you have nothing to do?' Do you stare at the images? Do you contemplate them? Are they beautiful when you contemplate them?  I can't meditate or contemplate because of the zapping - every few seconds, my brain and body get a jolt that wakes me up. I can't focus my mind in the special way that makes you feel flow, the feeling of enjoyment you get from focusing deeply on something. But I didn't ask her that.

And the voices wanted me to ask her if she had ever had a broken heart. I didn't ask that either.

And I wondered if I was the only person who had ever felt this way, because it felt like I was alone in pain. Having a broken heart - it seems like I'm the only one who's ever experienced this. My broken heart is mine and only mine, and no one else knows what it's like. There are universal feelings that other people feel, even people you dislike, people who have nothing in common with you. They get broken hearts too and it hurts them the same way. So I wondered if anyone else on earth had ever had a broken heart.

I heard 'glitter in the air' on the way home. That might have been a puppet incident, I don't know, but it was an appropriate song. Have you ever...? Have you ever done this, or felt this way? Have you ever experienced this?

I didn't get to ask Curtis those questions. We talked about my work schedule. He said he would have a couple days off. Then Carrie showed up and he left.

He said, 'It was nice talking to you.'

Then I went to my car and got ready to go to work at McDonald's.

I'm working in the mornings. I'll see him more often. Just having him there near me makes me feel good, even if we don't get to talk. It's not like it used to be, when he worked evenings, alone, and he often came over and chatted for many minutes (when he wasn't supposed to). Or he'd ask for my help. It didn't matter what we did, we were spending time together, and sometimes I was able to open up and tell him things. He doesn't work evenings anymore. That's probably best. It's hard for him to get all the work done when he's alone in the evenings, but in the day, he has other people there, and they can make sure he gets his work done. It's easier when other people are around. I don't want him to lose his job. And the way the store manager has been bugging him lately, he is at risk, especially if something happens, like an unexcused call-off. If he leaves, it will break my heart - I will grieve, I will get over it - but I will feel like there's no reason for me to work there anymore. I don't love anyone there the way I love him. I don't look forward to anything but him.

Bad feelings. Making jewelry. Forcing myself to 'date' people. Modem hacking.

9:48 AM 8/5/10

This blog will offend some people, because I talked about sexual attractiveness. I get voices telling me 'you alienated your readers' anytime I say anything judgmental about people's appearance in my blog.

I have Peter's Wellbutrin on me. This past week, several times, I have had... 'bad feelings.' That is all the description that I will give to them. I recognized them. Also, the vinyl cover on my car seat came apart and moved into the wrong place, and I've been getting St. John's Wort on me from the car seat underneath the vinyl.

The antidepressants have enabled me to do some things that I don't usually do. If I suddenly am able to do some simple thing that I've wanted to do for months, that means I've had an exposure to antidepressants. I suddenly went shopping at Michael's Arts and Crafts and bought beads because I had been fantasizing about making a necklace for Curtis. In reality, it was 'their' idea to actually do it. They pushed the 'go' button on that idea. I am not, in reality, giving him any gifts, because I still feel that the 'Curtis is in love with me' idea is delusional. It's a fake idea and a fake obsession that they have put into my head. I am always fighting against that.

I made a little necklace, but it's only experimental. I wanted to make it a certain way, but I couldn't. I wanted the string to be a piece of leather string. Actually, I have a bunch of concepts for my jewelry and I wanted to meet all those criteria. I want jewelry without metallic objects touching the skin, because I am metal sensitive and I can feel the metal giving me a painful tickly sensation, and if it's the wrong metal, I will get a rash. So that's why I wanted a leather string for the necklace. And Curtis wears a necklace that actually resembles one that I used to have (I still have it - it's in a box in storage) with a leather string and a shamrock pendant - it happens to be exactly like that, except his looks different - on his, the shamrock is made of metal, but on mine, the shamrock was an image pressed and burned onto a little round piece of leather. I wore it for good luck. So anyway I wanted a leather string, but I couldn't get the beads to go directly onto the leather string, because it's too thick. So I got a thin string made of waxed cotton, but it's flimsy and weak, and I don't trust it for durability. The beads fit onto that though.

I have been wearing it a few times and testing it. I'm having a reaction to the hematite. I love the way hematite looks. I have little cubical hematite blocks. They reflect the light in a dull metallic flash. But apparently they are metallic enough to still give me a metal reaction. I know hematite contains some iron, but I don't know much more about it. The reaction that I have is a strange tickly feeling in my skin where it touches, and also, sometimes, a dopey, stupid feeling inside my brain, where I start to feel like I can't think, and like I'm going to have a seizure (but I don't).

So I designed a necklace that I imagined a guy could wear. And I followed the 'goth'/'vampire'/'blood' type themes that I've seen in his web pages, so I chose colors based on that. It's a small, simple necklace, with only a few little beads on it. The main problem is that it's wayyy too flimsy and weak. I wouldn't ever sell this to anybody and I would hesitate to even give it away as a gift, because it would easily break and fall apart. And if it broke the beads could slide off and get lost. I don't have them knotted down. It was made in haste, just as a test.

I don't usually do projects like that, not easily, which indicates that I am indeed on drugs. The vinyl car seat has been out of place for several days and I've definitely had some St. John's Wort reactions.

Also, the feeling that 'I hate my job and I *can't stand* to go in today' is how I feel whenever I've been exposed to St. John's Wort. That seems strange because it's an antidepressant and it's supposed to make you feel better, but I observed many times back when I was using the drug (on purpose) and when I was having accidental reactions to it that it also gave me the 'this is unbearable' feeling, especially about going to work. On a normal day, I don't necessarily *like* going in to work, but I don't have the 'this is unbearable, time is passing too slowly, I hate every minute' feeling. That feeling is caused by drugs.

I have been fighting with the voices, who keep wanting to insist that I am a Sexual Instinct person instead of a Self-Preservation instinct person. I had been working on self-improvement for *years* before the murderers got into my brain and started destroying all of my self-observation, self-control processes and preventing me from doing the things that were important to me.

Another 'rule' in my jewelry is that I'm opposed to using *dyed* stones. This happened to me a long time ago. My parents used to get a little catalog in the mail called 'Nature's Jewelry.' They had nature-themed jewelry and I bought a lot of stuff from them over the years. But there was this one necklace that I was looking at for a long time before I finally bought it. It was made of blue stones. I always love semiprecious stones - I don't usually wear things with precious stones like diamonds, emeralds, rubies, and sapphires - but I like multicolored stones and other semiprecious stones. This necklace was made of several things - turquoise, lapis lazuli (I think, but I'm not sure) and other blue stones. Maybe not lapis lazuli - I think that's more rare and more expensive.

Well, I bought it, after seeing the picture in the catalog for months, only to find that some (maybe not all) of the stones were artificially dyed blue. They might have originally been bluish-colored stones, but not the bright blue that they were dyed. I forget how I found out. I might have looked at them closely and noticed it, but also, I think it happened when I got the necklace wet, and it left a blue dye stain on something it touched. I don't like things that are fake. If the stones are only a little bit pale blue originally, that is fine with me. They are unique.

I could go out in my backyard and find a bunch of stones, carve them into beads, and then dye them blue if I wanted to.

So I check the labels to make sure the stones aren't dyed.

I haven't done any arts and crafts projects for years, so I was suspicious about doing one all of a sudden this week. I am sure it's a reaction to the antidepressants.

When I got up today I had a voice that was making sarcastic comments, which sort of supported me, and went against me at the same time, whenever they 'pushed the button' to make me get up and do something I've thought about doing for a while: bleaching out the refrigerator. I don't believe that bleach will do anything for the bone marrow vapors. I don't know what the chemical is and I don't know whether it can be broken down with bleach. I don't know whether it's a small, simple molecule, or a large, complex molecule. I know nothing about it at all. So I thought bleach would probably have no effect.

I opened the fridge door and didn't have a bad reaction right away. I didn't smell anything. The last time I worked on it, I nearly passed out when I opened the fridge door. That didn't happen this time. I started spraying bleach bathroom cleaner all over the inside of the fridge. It says that you're not supposed to use that stuff on plastic or other fragile surfaces that could be damaged by bleach. So the voices were saying, 'Today's project: destroy something expensive that doesn't belong to you.' (Sort of like Fight Club.) And I agreed. I was actually concerned about destroying the fridge with a bleach spray on the plastic. Then I shut the door and turned the fridge back on to get the bleach-filled air circulating in it. The bone marrow vapors circulated back through the fan, so it's all inside of places I can't reach. The air has to circulate. For a while, I had it turned on with the doors open, and a big fan blowing directly into the fridge to blow out the vapors, but even that wasn't enough. There are tiny traces in there still.

After I did this, I still felt fine for a few minutes. But it doesn't hit right away. It's five or ten minutes afterwards. And that happened. As I was walking around outside going to my car, I suddenly felt the vomit urge, a movement in my stomach, and my salivary glands started flooding saliva. It wasn't that bad though. It only lasted a couple minutes and went away. That happens, I think, because you inhale the vapors, they settle in your nose and throat, and then they get swallowed into the stomach.

I am going to cover up the car seat with vinyl again - I bought more vinyl. But I will still have some exposure's to Peter's Wellbutrin when I go visit him. And Wellbutrin is the last thing on earth that I want to have on me. Peter told me that, when he and I first met, he was on it, and I didn't know. But back then, I was growing, and using, St. John's Wort, and I was contaminated with it all the time, so I wouldn't have known it or noticed anything. I didn't notice contamination and drug residues back then.

My brother John is visiting Aunt Jeannie today, and I'm going over there to meet them. I guess we're just going to her house. I should check my email.

They were bombarding me with 'delusion support' material last night about Curtis. Anytime I start to change my mind about him, anytime I start to let go, or I start to get over him and move on, if I start to believe that he will be okay without me, that he doesn't need me, that he isn't secretly in love with me, anytime I start to believe those things, the voices start bombing me with fake beliefs again to re-train me to believe what I'm supposed to believe about him. One of their favorite beliefs to bombard me with is the idea that he's suicidal, and that he needs my support so that he will continue to choose life. But then sometimes the voices tell me that they're telling *him* the same thing about *me*.

Last night they 'pulled out all the stops,' and that's a phrase I don't use, because I don't like to carelessly use phrases that I don't know the meaning of. But they did. They did everything possible to re-connect me to him, to convince me that I was all-important to him and I must not let go of him no matter what. They told me, just like they did with Martin, that he was hacking my computer, that he had been reading everything I wrote, that he had been watching me for years and years, that he had known who I was ever since he was a little kid because he had already been hacking and spying on computers long ago, and that I was some kind of a 'hero' to the computer hacker underground, like a role model. They used that whole same speech back when they were trying to get me to be with Martin too - they made it seem like all these guys had been hacking and messing with computers for years and they all knew me, and Curtis knew me before he ever met me, and so did Martin, and it's all a big secret.

Back when it was 'only hackers' and not 'electronic mind control', I used to talk to the keyloggers and entertain them. I didn't know who was reading my keystrokes and messing with my computers, but I imagined that it was a cute little teenage boy who was hacking and exploring and going around claiming territory. I had this mental image of who he was. That's why they are telling me all about that now.

One of the ways I fought back: There was a time when I decided I would stop writing to the keyloggers, I would break the habit. But I didn't know that I was being given fake, forced urges. I tried to stop... and then I would feel this sensation, and I decided that I was 'psychic' - I felt this sensation of pain and grief and loneliness, whenever I stopped talking to the keyloggers, and it was an intense physical urge to start writing to them again because I felt sorry for them. They convinced me, back then, that I had a psychic, telepathic connection to some faraway person who was desperate to read every word I wrote because he was in love with me.

So I fought back by turning my mental image of him into something I didn't like. First I said that he probably WASN'T a cute little teenage boy, he was probably a (please forgive me for saying this) an old, fat, ugly old man who I would find very unattractive. And again, I'm sorry for saying that. But that is how I protected myself, by imagining that he was somebody I didn't want to be talking to.

Then I made it even worse, as I felt hatred and rage and anger - when I stopped writing to them, they 'did things', like turning off the electricity, giving us dozens of hangup calls and prank calls, and so on - so I was very angry. So I decided that I wasn't even talking to a man - I must be talking to a female, a lesbian. And not only that, but it was a stupid, mentally retarded lesbian. So for a while there, when I was hate-filled and fighting back against them (and I was on drugs at the time, I'm sure - I had started using St. John's Wort several years ago and I'm pretty sure that's when this was happening), I was referring to the hacker as the 'retarded lesbian.'

St. John's Wort helped me do certain kinds of things, but it also made me rage at the hackers and, later on, at the voices. Rage was a side effect. My ex-boyfriend Eric and I both tried a bunch of alternative medicine pills that we bought at Wal-Mart, and we tried them at the same time. We tried St. John's Wort, Ginkgo Biloba, and Ginseng, all at the same time. (Back then, I didn't know to be cautious!) And as soon as we did this, we had the *biggest most pointless argument ever* over nothing at all. I have a photograph of myself giving Eric the middle finger. I think I'm sitting on a tree branch in that photo. Eric and I were out back behind my apartment taking pictures of ourselves trying to climb the big tree before they cut off the lowest branch (because it might hit the roof of the house). We had a huge argument over nothing, and I really mean it was over nothing - I can't remember what we said, I can't remember what we did or why. Eric seemed to be acting like an asshole for no reason, and I think I was too, because I overreacted to him and fought back. This was all because of our drugs, and I didn't know it at the time.

I used to say the most horrible things to the keyloggers during that time period. That was the time when I was 'Kreacher' from Harry Potter. Kreacher said horrible things because he thought nobody could hear him. He did that because the painting of his mistress was the only thing left after she died, and the painting was crazy and it wouldn't really talk back to him the way a real person would, because those magical paintings in Harry Potter aren't really conscious or alive in quite the same way a human is. When you're talking to somebody who doesn't talk back to you, you start to attack them and say horrible, hurtful things, just desperately trying to get a response. You do this when a loved one dies. You might rage and scream at the dead person, saying things you never said before, telling them how you hate them, trying to wake them back up again, and they don't wake up. I felt that way about the hackers on the keylogger. I used to talk to Nerdman in the chatroom, and he was at least a real person who responded back to me. He wrote sentences and expressed himself. After he started ignoring my emails, the computer harassment began. And the hackers didn't talk to me. They never spoke. They just did things to the computers. I wanted a real person who would respond, someone who would give me a reality check. I didn't want just cold, faraway, online interactions with computers. I wanted warm, close, real people to touch. So it hurt me when they tried to force me to keep giving attention to the hacker, whoever it was, some imaginary person who probably, in reality, was unattractive and somebody I would never want to be with. It probably really wasn't just some cute little teenage boy like I imagined.

So that's the story behind why, last night, they decided to start up the 'Curtis is the hacker' story again. And I have to give a disclaimer when I talk about this. *ANYBODY* who wants to spy on someone else's computer or break into their email is able to read online about how to do this, go to forums where people will walk them through it and show them how, and download software designed to do this. All of it is on the internet. So for all I know, he really could be hacking my computer, and there would be nothing unusual about that. But I am not claiming that he *is*. I am just saying that he *can*, like everyone else. I myself haven't taught myself that particular skill, and, since I was a victim of it in the beginning, when I was being hurt and harassed and manipulated - I feel opposed to even learning how to do it. I might still do it someday, so that I can stop feeling like a victim. But I don't even have time to learn *anything* lately or do any projects, especially with chronic fatigue and me not using antidepressants anymore.

They gave me that story because I was getting ready to give up on him and move on to real people who actually wanted to be with me. They were telling me that he lied about his feelings for me, that I didn't actually give him the creeps, that he actually was attracted to me but he couldn't tell me. Again, those things are *possible*, but I don't want to assume them. I usually assume they're not true. So the voices were going over this with me, asking why not, and they said it must mean it's 'too good to be true.'

Usually, the only guys who like me are unattractive guys - that's been my experience. They wanted me to go to the dating website so I could be convinced that ordinary, attractive guys were able to be attracted to me. But I'm not convinced, because I won't be convinced until the young teenage guys with long hair, that category that I like the most, is going after me. Those are the ones who I believe don't like me. I already *know* that middle-aged men are attracted to me, and short-haired men, and fat men, and average-looking men, and men who have nothing in common with me and don't understand me at all, and men who don't share any of my beliefs or values. I already know *those* people are attracted to me, dozens and dozens and dozens of them. Men who I find unattractive are always attracted to me. I already know this. Men who I can't stand to be with are attracted to me all the time. There are some exceptions, some people who are moderately attractive, and if I kept on looking for them and reaching out to them, I would get some results. But the voices are trying to stop me from actually *using* the dating websites or using MySpace for real to actually meet new people and to go after the category that I find attractive - the puma/cub relationship or the MILF/SILF relationship :) - that is what I am trying to do. (I don't know if 'SILF' is a word but you can figure it out from MILF.)  (Hey - I didn't know Wordpress inserts a smiley image!)

That was the reason why I cried after I talked on the phone to the guy from the dating site. I wasn't crying because, woe is me, one of the people on the website offered me money and I was a whore. I was crying because, to me, the definition of 'dating' is: 'Spending lots of time with people you can't stand to be with, hoping that, after a while, it will get better.' That is my experience of dating. And I was also crying because if I'm really doing that, it means I'm letting go of Curtis, while still feeling very attached to him.

It reminds me of something Curtis did. I had my own explanation for why he was doing this. Whenever he first met Carrie he was talking about how he was going to start drinking alcohol the moment he left work and got in his car before going over to her house. (Actually, I have reason to believe they knew each other for a while, maybe through friends-of-a-friend, that kind of thing, before they dated - she made a comment on MySpace about how 'I was there for you even back when you didn't want me.')  I started imagining that he had to get himself really, really drunk so that he could force himself to get used to her, because he really didn't want to be with her. He could only stand to be with her if he was really drunk. I don't drink alcohol, but that's the way I feel about dating. I can't stand to spend time with most people. I don't like anybody. Nobody understands me, nobody is sexually attractive, nobody does their hair the way I want, nobody is interested in anything I have to say, nobody says anything that I find interested enough to listen to... That is my mental image of dating. In reality it might turn out to be better than that.

But I have to say 'no' to people *instantly* without even giving them a chance. How could I know merely from listening to them on the phone that I would be disgusted with them? How could I know instantly that there will never be any sexual attraction towards this person? I can know it from one single glance at their photo. I can know it from five seconds of listening to their voice on the phone. *I KNOW IT*. I know it instantly. How do I know it? I'm not exaggerating. Five seconds on the phone, and I already know that this relationship has no future. (You should have seen my face while I was listening to Martin talking to me on the phone, in our one conversation that we were actually able to have, before the interrogations and manipulations and mind control and interventions and intercepted emails and everything else. I listened to his voice with an expression of ecstatic joy on my face. I was hypnotized as he spoke, carried away with the images he described, seeing what he saw. I loved Martin's voice. I can tell instantly if there is any chance at all that I will feel sexually attracted to somebody.)

But the rest of my mind says, 'That's unfair. You have to give them a chance. You have to FORCE yourself to spend time with them and see whether you can get used to them.' So I would go on a date, and sit there, with every inch of my skin and every bone in my body wanting to run away and never come back. Maybe some of that is because I'm being burned by the murderers zapping me with something so that I can't relax. I don't know. Burning attacks *do* make you feel like you have to get up and leave. They do prevent you from relaxing and focusing. So I don't know if my attempts to date people in the past were ruined by the murderers making sure that I could never get to know anybody or get close to anybody. But at least *some* of the feeling is real, from within.

I don't like the unfairness of dating. How unfair is it that I only want to look for cute teenage boys? The voices were telling me that Curtis is a hebephile, that he only wants to have sex with twelve-year-old virgins, and there is some truth to this, because his ex-girlfriend Kayla, the mother of his child, he got her pregnant when she was very young, and I don't know how old she is now, but when they were having sex, she had to be younger than 15, I think. And he asked me if I was a virgin. I would be the 'petite, small-breasted virgins' category, if you are talking about an adult who is of legal age, that the other guy described in his hebephilia blog. But I'm not a virgin, and I can't help it that I'm not a virgin, and I can't do anything to go back to being one. It's like rejecting a guy because he's circumcised. Yes, I want to have sex with guys who have intact penises. But how unfair is it to reject someone for something he had no control over and no choice about, that happened a long time ago? How unfair is it that I'm a 35-year-old who wants to date teenagers, but what about the 50-year-old men who want to date *me*? Because there are dozens of those. If all I wanted was a sugar daddy who would pay me money to go out with him, an older man giving me gifts, I can find dozens of those. But I want to be physically attracted to his body, and for that, I am looking for teenage boys.

Every rule that I use to judge who I will and won't go out with, that rule can be turned against *me* so that *I* am the one being rejected. And I don't know what to do about that. I could be on the opposite end of that rule, on the other end of the phone line hearing the word 'no,' no matter what rule I use to decide who I won't go out with and who I will consider.

But I have played the opposite side. I dated older men for years. I've been seeing 'sugar daddies' since I was in my early twenties. I was with a 41-year old married man for a while when I was 23. Eric was several years older than me, though I can't remember how old now - I thought it was seven years? And Peter is also older than me. He's 43 now, I think. I keep forgetting how old he is.

Fair and unfair - those are concepts in my brain. But my body, my ears listening to the voice on the phone - it knows instantly within a couple seconds whether there is any chance at all, and I can't get around that snap judgment. It knows.

I need people who will talk with me about subjects that other people won't talk about. Those will be real friends. I want to be believed. That would mean that I should look for 1. computer hackers who believe me when I say that somebody is stalking me and harassing me over the computer, 2. people who believe in mind control, or, at least, people who believe in psychic power, telepathy, mind reading, paranormal experiences, and so on, 3. chemical sensitive people - although I have some trouble with them, they're hard to deal with. I don't really WANT to focus on chemical sensitivity forever and ever just because. I'm only focused on it now out of necessity. I want it to be over and done with.

I talked with a lady at work who once dated an Objectivist (if I recall correctly), and her daughter is named Dagny, which is how I found out she knew about Objectivism. She knew about the Weston Price diet and she worked for one of the stores that sells raw milk. She knew some of the things that I'm interested in. When I talked with her, when she worked there (she's in the pharmacy now, not the deli anymore), I felt as though she was on drugs or drug residues, and I felt somehow that she was too constantly cheerful. She was always positive and always cheerful. It's like a fake person on drugs. I don't like myself when I'm that way. I got that impression from her. Now that I've mentioned her, I'm afraid that the murderers are going to arrange a 'puppet' incident that would force me to talk to her, and I don't want to. I didn't like that constant drugged cheerfulness feeling. I want to be drug-free, and I want to be friends with other people who are drug-free. (The voices were saying that Curtis is on drugs, but I don't know whether they are telling the truth, or being metaphorical, or talking about secondhand drug residues. They say he's on something for ADHD, and an anti-anxiety drug, if I recall. This is one of those things that would be relatively easy to do a reality check about. They might be referring to tobacco and alcohol, though, because both of those drugs have useful purposes as 'self-medication.' Tobacco does help ADHD, and alcohol is obviously an anti-anxiety drug.) Anyway I don't want them to force me to have a puppet incident with that lady. I'm not looking for female friends.

I want to *choose* who *I* reach out to, for once, instead of passively letting people respond to my dating profile. I want to be the one who *asks* someone to go with me instead of being asked by him. I want to be the first one to write the first letter saying hello. Hello, I read your profile and I'd like to meet you.

And I don't want 'puppet' incidents where the murderers are 'trying to be helpful' by bringing me somebody that they think I would like, somebody they approve of.

I need to check my email, and time is passing... I should get online and post this now.

****
This is one of those stupid, petty things that the hackers/murderers do, something so petty and so stupid and so trivial, nobody would ever believe it, except for my fellow sufferers who are also being harassed. I know AJH at tiworld.blogspot.com would believe it - he knows about their petty stupidity. My modem - they did something to my dialup modem a long time ago, and it's been this way for ages now. They made it so that it has a 'whisper' in the sound it makes while it's dialing up. There's an ultrasonic, what's the word I'm looking for? It's like a subliminal message, in the noises made by the modem dialing up. It says 'What in the world is wrong with my computer?' and they think that's funny. Then another voice, later on, was written over that one, and it says, 'Leave her the hell alone.' Well, just recently, somebody 'cut out' that part of the dialup sequence on my modem, so it makes no sound at all during that moment, and then a second later continues to play the little dialup song. And somehow it still manages to connect to the internet even with that little piece of the dialup song missing from the modem.

found more computer stuff; religious order continued

Today I found the monitor, the laptop, a few accessories like the mouse and the cords and the speakers, and the data disks. I'm not sure if the other hard disk is in one of those boxes, but I have a vague idea where it could be if it isn't. That disk malfunctioned (when I still lived at the other apartment) and I was going to try to salvage it - it looks like it was going to cost a lot of money to do that.

I haven't tested any of them yet. I'm dreading that project. I know it's possible to freeze electronic devices and they will still work, but I don't know the details, and I'm afraid it's not good to freeze and thaw them over and over again.

However, I'm happy I found them. That project is one of the important things I wanted to get done during my vacation, and I did it.

***

The Order: I said it was vaporware. It's actually paperware. I've written more of the details in a notebook. It's a collection of things that I think are so important, everybody should be doing them - or at least, that's how I was looking at it to help me focus on what should be included in the rules, and what shouldn't.

Because I've been studying the Ichazo's Instincts recently, I noticed that the 'belief clusters' could be grouped by instincts: self-preservation, social, and sexual. My strongest area was self-preservation. I had the largest number of specific beliefs in that area, beliefs about what type of food is good for you and what's healthy for the body. I'm still not sure whether my second strongest instinct is sexual or social - and no matter how much I think about it, I'm still not sure of the answer yet. 'They' keep wanting to insist that it's the sexual instinct, and I'm inclined to agree with that, but I'm not sure.

From the Riso and Hudson enneagram book (which is still in storage somewhere, and I can't look at it) I remember that later in the book, they showed connections between the enneagram and things that other authors had written. Each enneagram type has some kind of relationship with either the protective figure or the nurturing figure. I don't remember the name of the theory this was connected with.

Anyway, I categorized the 'rules' (I can barely write right now because I am being bombarded with some kind of garbage and they're messing up all of my sentences) into six groups, by the three instincts and then by 'positive' or 'negative' for each one - which was similar to 'nurturing' or 'protective.' Let me explain it differently. You can talk about 'good things to do' or 'bad things to avoid / problems to solve'. I was vaguely thinking of 'nurturing' or 'protecting', but also thinking in terms of 'positive' or 'negative' for each one. Was the rule warning someone about a danger or problem that should be avoided, or was it talking about the 'right things to do' or 'healthy things' in that category?

I'm running out of time, but I'll log in again - I have another hour.

Back again... So, I noticed that the needs of different instincts can be in conflict with each other. Depending on which instinct is your strongest one, you choose what to do to serve that instinct (I am still having a lot of trouble writing: this is all a bunch of puppet-words crap and I can't write it in my own words. Every word is a battle and they are blanking me out and just putting words in my mouth.). An example is when the sexual types are seeking 'intense experiences,' they might use recreational drugs, which is in conflict with self-preservation, since it can be dangerous to their health.

The idea was that the religion is supposed to support all three of the instincts, so that they can avoid common dangers and can get what they need. There are big, obvious problems going on in society that are preventable and avoidable - it's possible to prevent children from ever becoming overweight, if you follow a few simple rules during pregnancy and early childhood (DON'T GIVE THEM BABY FORMULA! BREASTFEED THEM! THE END!). And yes, the all caps thing is kind of a joke, because it might not be that simple. Anyway, prevent the big obvious problems going on in the modern world, and make sure people have what they need and feel more fulfilled in life.

There will always be people who don't like the lifestyle of a particular religious community, and decide they want to leave it. If they grew up in a family that followed these rules, they would still be better off, for the rest of their lives, because they were protected during their early childhood, the most vulnerable time when the most permanent damage can be done to a person.

If the computer works and I get it up and running again, it might not be a good thing. It's possible to waste huge amounts of time just passively surfing the internet and reading one random thing after another. I kind of liked it that I had to stay focused on my minimal number of books that I had, and I was studying bookkeeping and doing the Schaum's Outline exercises. Still, I had to get the computer stuff out of storage so that I wouldn't be worried about it freezing (even though it's already too late and they've already frozen many times).

There are unsettled issues and unanswered questions, and I wrote down those topics. Should the order require people to do X? Should it forbid them to do Y? Compliance is a gradual process that takes years. I myself am NOT compliant with many or most of the rules I was writing. It took several decades for me to learn the things I know now, and believe the things I believe now.

So I see compliance as something that you do as a series of achievements, and, while it won't be exactly like this, I'm thinking of the Boy Scouts and their merit badges. You gradually get one merit badge after another. You don't just jump into it and comply perfectly with all of the rules from the very first day. It's a lifestyle change and it takes a long time, and it is greatly helped by having social support - for instance, it's very hard to cook healthy foods every day, so it would be helpful to have a group of people who shared cooking duties, or a store where all of the 'approved' foods were sold, or something like that. I don't want to command people to do something, but then it's impossible for them to actually do it. I want it to be possible and I want it to be easier for them to do it, so it's more likely to actually happen. I want to have realistic expectations. That's why it will be a gradual process of achieving compliance with the various rules over time.

I'll explain more about it later.

Haldir of Lorien goes 'ick', then dies shortly afterwards

i'm going to warn everyone, this is a VERY negative blog today. i might have been drugged, or i might just be sick and in a bad mood. i might have a contaminant on me from something.

eric and i used to joke about how, in the movies, you can sometimes predict which characters are going to die. in horror movies, the characters usually commit some kind of 'sin' before dying. that way, you don't feel as bad about seeing them die. but you don't like to see the really good, likeable characters die. it even happened in the matrix, when mouse got killed shortly after he was seen looking at the picture of the woman in the red dress. in horror movies, 'sinful sex' is often the thing happening shortly before a character is killed. if anybody does anything 'wrong' or dislikeable, you can predict that they are about to die in the movie. 'oh well, they were a jerk anyway,' you say when the character dies.

it happened in the lord of the rings, which i watched recently. i don't know what happened in the book (it's been a while since i read it), but i have a feeling that the movie added a little bit of artistic interpretation when they portrayed haldir of lorien. (i think it's haldir and not 'haldor' - i might check the spelling first.)

aragorn said 'you are most welcome' and hugged haldir with gratitude for coming to helm's deep. and haldir's hands were stiff and he seemed shocked or distasteful about being hugged by aragorn. shortly after that, he died. most people watching the movie would say something like, 'oh, come on, loosen up and relax a little.' by that time, everyone is fond of aragorn, and they think haldir is just being snooty and snobby.

i have sympathy for haldir having an involuntary 'ick' response to hugging someone. i've experienced 1. mange, and 2. transdermal chemical or drug contamination, from hugging people. (they called it 'cooties' when we were children, and people interpreted cooties as 'lice', but i interpret them as mange or scabies.)  mange is not just a nuisance to me, not just a discomfort - it actually causes big, infected scratches and scars all over my skin.

i've been forced awake, a couple hours ago, and people are asking me questions about dennis. about what's wrong with him, about why i have very negative feelings about him.

he came into work yesterday and asked me why i wasn't using the laptop he sold me (for a low price). he didn't SAY this out loud, but, i draw the conclusion that this is because i went to the library to upload videos, instead of using the laptop at a wireless connection, which is what i told him i intended to do with it.

my reaction to this is a feeling of ever-increasing irritation and annoyance. why the hell do i need to be 'secretive and sneaky' right now? why do i need to be 'secretive and sneaky' about uploading a couple of videos? i'm putting negative words on that - i usually describe it as, wanting to be anonymous. the laptop and wireless connection is for sometime in the future if and when i need to be online anonymously. i am nowhere near ready for that project, and i have much more urgent things to worry about right now.

i would want to be online anonymously if i wanted to avoid: people who AREN'T surveilling and following me physically as i go places, but who are still capable of hacking or observing what computer i'm using. that is a specific group of people. people who are ONLY hacking some computers, but aren't yet able to follow me everywhere i go, hacking into videocameras or whatever else they would need to do, or using an unknown method to follow me.

it's not only that, it's also, if i want to use a computer that doesn't have the particular viruses on it that mine inevitably has. the wireless laptop will get 'mostly anonymous and unconscious' viruses instead of spyware directed at me personally. it will get whatever spyware is sent to me from the people who follow me around physically. those things are 'slightly more difficult' to do. it is slightly more difficult to watch where i drive my car, and then send some spyware to the wireless connection i use at some public place. (or force me to get the idea to go to a particular location which has been chosen for me in advance.)

i was impatient and annoyed about the whole idea of that. why on earth would i NEED to use the laptop and wireless connection right now? i have an urgent need to move out of this apartment, and that's all i'm worried about. 'being secretive and sneaky' is very, very low on my priority list. using the library computers is sufficient. uploading the videos is 'entertainment only' and doesn't require being sneaky.

i mentioned a few days ago about how i got contaminated with an unknown drug or chemical when dennis hugged me while i was wearing my brand new uniform. it was a very brief hug. because of that, i am going to have to avoid hugging him AT ALL even though i originally believed it ought to be okay to give someone a friendly hug. i was trying to convince myself that maybe it would be okay, as long as i wasn't in uniform. but i am starting to think it isn't even okay when i am wearing my normal clothes. his contaminant is so bad, it affects my mood, it makes me depressed, it makes me angry and irritable, it makes me nauseated, and based on past experience, i know that contaminants do not wash out in the laundry, but instead spread around to the entire clothing instead of being removed.

i am having intense negative reactions merely at the sight of him or the thought of him. when i see him walking into the store, i get annoyed and irritated about his slow movement and his zombielike stare. i get irritated at the sight of him and everything about him. when he was talking to me, i started to get nauseated (faintly) even though i was a few feet away from him - probably because he had been chewing tobacco.

i am not even trying to 'boss him around' and tell him what he needs to do. this is because i ALREADY KNOW that he will NEVER do the things that i believe he needs to do. i am going to be very harsh and very blunt. it is cruel, and cold, and that's why i don't want to say it to him.

he can choose to follow MY standards, or he can choose to follow the 'mainstream USA' standard of dress and appearance, in order to attract mainstream women (or he can choose some other standard, neither of the above).

for the mainstream standard, it means he will have to shave his beard, lose weight, take showers every day, stop smelling like kerosene and tobacco, choose different clothing, and get rid of his camouflage baseball cap. (*Note. 'Losing Weight' is not at all easy to do. I do not know how to do it. When I have more time, I am interested in researching obesity, what causes it, and how to reduce it. I've already done a little bit of reading on this subject, but I still do not know of a reliable way to lose weight. I view obesity as the result of some other health problem, something complicated, and I say that it is not the person's fault. However, I mention it here because 'lose weight' is part of the mainstream USA recommendations, regardless of whether I agree or disagree.*)

i *HATE HATE HATE HATE HATE* baseball caps. i am so sick of seeing gaudy, ugly, multi-colored, patterned, or ugly-colored baseball caps ON EVERYBODY EVERYWHERE I GO. i can't stand them. and it's not only the color, it's also the shape. i can't stand the shape either, even if the colors aren't bad. i have said this before in my blog.

i understand that people want to wear hats to prevent their baldness from sunburning. this is a legitimate thing to be doing. pale-skinned people will burn on top of their heads, sometimes even if they still have hair. dennis is bald on top of his head, so i can understand that maybe he wants to wear some kind of hat to prevent sunburn.

however, he wears his baseball cap pulled down low over his face, over his eyes, in the 'i'm hiding my face deliberately' style. he's following the 'i don't want anyone to see me' standard of dress. this is something that mainstream USA disapproves of, if you are interested in attracting women. he also has a thick beard, which, once again, in the mainstream world, represents the 'i'm hiding from everyone and i don't want anyone to see my face' standard of dress. (in my natural grooming standards, a long beard is required (for ethnic groups that grow beards), and it does not indicate hiding or secrecy.)

he also wears glasses, which hide the emotions expressed by the eyes. i don't feel quite comfortable about contact lenses, so i accept that people need to wear glasses in order to see. (*note: 'energy saver' light bulbs destroy your eyes. they are extremely bad for you. some of them are better than others. but i, and other people, notice my eyes burning very badly after i have spent some time near energy saver bulbs. i can't read a book while sitting in barnes and noble, or in many other public restaurants and stores, if they're brightly lit with energy saving fluorescents. when i walk away, my vision is blurry for hours. if you want to make your eyesight worse, use those bulbs.*) however, wearing glasses, in combination with a baseball cap pulled low over your eyes, and a thick beard, is all about hiding your face from everybody, according to the mainstream point of view.

i actually prefer an amish straw hat over a mainstream USA baseball cap. i prefer hats that do not have patterns or mixed colors on them. something simple. i tend to like hats that have a brim all the way around, not just in the front. i tolerate fedora-type hats better than baseball caps. fedoras were a fashion fad not too long ago, but they didn't catch on, and baseball caps still rule.

i don't know why i dislike those things, but i do. i would prefer no hats at all. (this is all from the voices interrogating me about what i like or dislike about people's appearance.) but whenever i am forced to tolerate people wearing hats at all, there are some things i like more than others.

avoiding gaudy patterns: this is one reason why the amish chose to have all of their clothing simple and plain, because whenever you allow people to choose patterns and colors, they will always go down the 'slippery slope' and eventually you will live in a society full of people choosing the ugliest, most gaudy colors and patterns imaginable, which is what we have now. foreign people complain about the stereotypical badly-dressed american tourists. bad taste in clothing is something which is being frequently complained about, with regard to americans. i think this is a legitimate grievance. the stereotype is true.

in the usa, people think that having the right to choose gaudy, hideous clothing is a way of 'having more freedom.' and if they are asked to obey any standards at all, they see it as an infringement of their freedom. the freedom to dress really, really badly, all of the time, is a freedom that americans seem to value a lot. (yes, i have been interrogated about why i am so disgusted with mainstream society, why i hate television and fashion and all that.) they become indignant if you talk about possibly expecting them to dress better, or dress a certain way, or obey a standard, in their daily life (not just at the workplace).

i look at the amish people, and when i see them, i am never offended by their appearance. i don't want to be amish, nor am i creating a community based on the amish, but instead it is an intentional community that might be described as a 'reform' of various groups and beliefs, taking the good things from them, and getting rid of the bad things. not throwing the baby out with the bathwater. and not necessarily 'good or bad,' but rather, things that i like or dislike. some of it is subjective opinion and personal preference. i say that i am 'not offended' by the amish appearance - they don't look gaudy and awful to me - but i would ask that my community will disobey the bible with regard to long-haired men. the amish still keep men's hair short.

so, that is what dennis needs to do for his mainstream makeover. i am not asking him to do that.

MY makeover is much more difficult. it is a chemical-sensitivity, decontamination, health-improvement, natural grooming, changing-your-belief-systems makeover. and i *KNOW* that he will never, ever, in a million years, even BEGIN to do such a makeover. i am definitely not asking him to do my kind of makeover.

my so-called makeover requires dennis to do these things:

decontaminate himself. he, and everything he owns, is covered with unknown chemicals, including kerosene, tobacco, and possibly colloidal silver, and possibly something else unknown. these chemicals go through the skin, causing me to feel depressed, irritated, angry, nauseated, hopeless, tired, and slow-moving. dennis himself is slow-moving, zombielike, and apathetic about achievement and self-improvement, and i am guessing that he, too, is sick from his own chemicals, whatever they are, whether he knows it or not.

to decontaminate, he will have to do the same impossible, awful, traumatic, expensive things that i myself have done. i already know about contamination, but with me, it was a life-threatening poison that could not be removed, and i was willing to do drastic things to get rid of it. you CAN'T clean poisonous chemicals off of clothing. dennis must throw in the garbage every item of clothing he owns, because ALL of it is covered with tobacco and the smell of kerosene, and something unknown.

he must leave his trailer. it uses kerosene fuel for heating, and propane gas for the stove. to be healthy, and to avoid inhaling fumes, and to avoid smelling horrible, you cannot live in a house that uses fossil fuels. he has to go someplace that doesn't use those things. can you imagine me asking dennis to move out of his trailer? do you see why i don't even bother asking him to do the things i wish he would do?

he will have to get rid of a lot of his belongings. even things like his computers are covered with an unknown chemical, and the kerosene smell. i know it because it's on all of the computer equipment he's given me, including the laptop. all of those things smell like kerosene, and when i touch them, i get hit with some drug or chemical through the skin. he would have to wash every inch of every object thoroughly, and avoid recontaminating them afterwards, which means they could not stay in the kerosene-smelling trailer. again, do you see why i don't bother asking him to do this?

(i am adding this paragraph because 'the voices told me to.' they wanted me to talk more about the subject of weight loss. i actually wasn't even going to say this, originally.) i do not know how to advise him how to lose weight, because as i said above, weight loss is extremely difficult. it's something i've been interested in for a long time, and i've done some reading, but i can't advise anybody about it. so i don't necessarily ask him to lose weight. however, i'd ask him to change his diet, because there might be food sensitivities or other nutritional problems. so i would ask him to improve his nutrition, and his overall health. his food wasn't that bad, when i ate over there - what i mean is, i don't have a lot to complain about with how he eats. i liked his food and it was a good meal, and i appreciated it (i apologized to him several times about the fact that i can't stand to be in his trailer with the sickening fumes). i don't see any connection between the food he eats, versus how much he weighs. he doesn't overeat. he doesn't eat a lot. he didn't eat significantly more than i do. therefore, i say that his being overweight is caused by an unknown health problem that i cannot explain.

to follow my natural grooming standards, he would have to do the things i describe on the page about growing long hair. those are extreme and unusual things to do, and they are not for everyone. i am not asking him to do that. that is only for people who are joining my intentional community, which doesn't exist yet.

and this is where my 'being blunt' becomes 'being EVEN MORE blunt.' after doing all of those things, I STILL won't have sex with him! he could do all of the things i tell him to do, but i still don't want to have sex with him. he would have to obey all of those rules, only to find that after all of that effort, he still wasn't getting any sex. instead, i would be hoping that SOME OTHER woman would love him, marry him, and have sex with him - BUT *NOT ME*.

that is why i said he could choose the mainstream usa standard, instead of my standards. mainstream usa won't ask him to throw away all of his belongings and his clothing. most normal women won't realize that there is any chemical or drug contaminating all of his belongings - only a minority of people will notice that. so he can get away with maybe just cleaning up and not smelling like kerosene anymore and not chewing tobacco. and he can also get away with not losing weight, especially because he isn't severely overweight. however, he will have to (being even more blunt, here) go find a woman who would be viewed as un-attractive. not me. somebody else.

and again, i have been awakened at three in the morning and interrogated by voices, at a time when my stomach is burning and i feel very sick and i am in a very bad mood. and i've been getting more and more annoyed with dennis, over the past few weeks, because i KNOW that he will NOT do the things that i wish he would do to improve his health, improve his life, and improve his chances of finding a woman to marry, or to at least have sex with. i TRIED to give him what i thought was a basic level of human kindness, i tried to make myself willing to just give him a hug, just a minimum of human contact, but it turns out that i cannot even stand to touch him, and cannot even stand close to him without becoming nauseated and affected by his unknown chemicals. and when those chemicals contaminate my brand-new work uniform, and my other clothes, i don't even want to try that anymore at all. and i know i can't ask him to clean up, because decontamination is a HUGE project, and i know it from my own experience. it involves a huge expense, throwing a huge amount of your belongings and your clothing in the garbage, and it is extremely traumatic. i cried, and cried when i threw away my ephedra-contaminated clothing that gave me heart attacks every time i wore it.

and meanwhile, not just his toxic chemicals, but his behavior - about coming in to the place where i work, and then walking back and forth, and back and forth, and back and forth, six or seven times around the area where i work, hoping to catch my eye and start up another twenty-minute conversation about his computer gadgets or about his geneology project. while i'm on the clock! while my manager is right nearby watching me! while i'm being paid by the hour! while i'm getting yelled at about how i'm leaving work past nine o'clock when i'm scheduled to leave!

and so, merely at the sight of him, i am already very annoyed and irritated, every time i see him. there's nothing i can do for him - i don't think he's willing to go to the huge expense of doing the things that i think he needs to do, in order to help himself, and improve his health, and improve his social life (i'd tell him to go join a church, if he wasn't offended by religion). and even then, i can't guarantee that it will help! i'd like to learn more about medicine and alternative medicine, but i haven't had time for it. so, i still don't know how to solve his health problems. (the health problems he doesn't know he has! slow robotic movement, zombielike stare.) and after doing all of the things i would ask him to do, i would be hoping that some other woman would be with him, *not me*. so what motivation does he have to do it?

i can't even say, 'if you do these things, i'll have sex with you.' i can only say, 'if you do these things, your health might improve somewhat, and your mood and behavior and attitude and psychological health might improve, and you might get another job, and some other woman, not me, might date you or marry you, but i can't promise anything for sure.'

***

why did i give dennis my phone number and email address in the first place? this was a suspicious incident which fits in with all of the other things that i have been doing over the past year, and some of it was unnatural and forced. some of it was intended to be helpful to me because i have no friendships in state college, or at least i didn't before. when i got evicted from my apartment a few years ago, i had to go live in my ex-boyfriend's house, and we had huge arguments every day, and he became a puppet, and the beloved cats also became puppets, and eric was forced to initiate an argument (frequently, about nothing in particular, or about subjects we had already argued about) while i was in the middle of trying to sleep in between working two jobs, and the cats were forced to come scratch on my door loudly and repeatedly the instant i fell asleep. and if i let them in, they would walk around the room, knocking things over, climbing up on the table and the windowsill and the bed, meowing and acting obnoxious, making noises and keeping me awake, and then walking back out of the room again after having done nothing but make noises, and if i shut the door again, they would demand to come back in (as soon as i fell asleep), and do the same thing. it wasn't like the cats wanted to come into the room and would then snuggle up and fall asleep on the bed beside me. they would just go in there and do annoying things. i knew they were puppets - i already knew about people and animals being forced to do things, at the time when this happened - so i forgave them and i didn't rage at them, because they couldn't help it. they were being controlled. all i could do, when this happened, was pick up the cat and put him outdoors.

this is why i had to find some new friends in state college in case i had any more problems like being evicted.

so that was part of the overall idea of trying to make contacts with people, so that i would have somebody, anybody at all, in case of an emergency. that was part of the reason why i decided to give dennis my contact information and try to make friends with him. i was expecting that we might email each other from time to time and just stay in casual contact.

i had already had a problem with dennis before that. in the beginning, i met him because i made a pizza for him sometimes, and i often griped about not being able to find the ingredients, and that type of thing. so that was how we started chatting. but at one point, i decided to start avoiding him, and i'm not sure why. i am not sure what prompted that to happen. i suddenly, completely stopped talking to him, avoided eye contact, and would go someplace else if i saw him walking around. maybe i had already felt as though his conversations were taking too long, while i was on the clock? i don't remember for sure. so i was probably trying to stop having too-long conversations while i was on the clock - but again, that might not have really happened yet. i can't remember the reason why i started avoiding him.

i went a while avoiding him. then i suddenly changed my mind, and gave him my phone number and email address. i was hoping that we could be casual friends, and i was hoping that maybe, if he had my email address, he could *EMAIL* me instead of trying to talk to me for twenty minutes at a time, in the workplace. i was HOPING he would do THAT. but that didn't happen. he didn't save up his conversations and write them in letters. he always had to go have that twenty-minute conversation about computer gadgets or geneology with somebody who's paid by the hour. so, that didn't work.

it was always an uncomfortable strain to spend a lot of time talking about computers and technical stuff. i learned a little bit about computers, because i HAD to, because i was being harassed by hackers. it wasn't because i love computers for the sheer joy of working with computers and thinking about them and talking about them. it was necessity and maybe a little bit of interest, but not a lot. i could fake my way through a technical conversation, but like i said, it was an uncomfortable strain, not a conversation that i really enjoyed. and i was always thinking, 'i have to go wash the dishes, i have to go get the trash out, i have to go do this... what was i thinking? i forgot what i had to go do, oh no, let me think for a minute about what it was i was trying to remember... i can't think, this guy is here talking to me, i can't think, i can't remember what i had to do...' as soon as he started monopolizing my brain with his computer-gadget conversations, i couldn't remember all the tasks that i had to do, or how long it would take to do them. those are fragile thoughts, which are vulnerable to attack. i already have difficulty switching from one task to another, because it requires a form of hypnosis which is frequently zapped by the attackers and disrupted by voices and other events. (there's a book i bought years ago, called 'flow', by some author whose name i can't spell or pronounce - he's russian, or something, and it's mihaely michochenevsky or something, i'm just inventing that name. i would have to go look it up - the book is buried in a pile and i might not even have it here in pennsylvania, it could be in my book pile in west virginia. it talks about all the wonderful things i would be able to do if my brain were permitted to enter the mind-state known as 'flow' without being zapped by criminals, or slowed down and weakened by drugs and chemicals.)

okay.... this blog was a huge gripe. i warned you all that it would be extremely negative. and i still don't know what to do about dennis.

oh. and also, on another topic, i had a dream-vision that one of my friends from west virginia was talking to martin and asking him why he won't talk to me. and martin said, 'i don't feel like it.'