This is a pet peeve of mine. I'm not really mad at the customers. It's not their fault. They have somehow been led to believe that the drink "comes with" the value meal, and that they are actually getting a "bargain."
In a value meal, the sandwich and fries are together as a unit. You are charged one price for the sandwich and fries together. The price is different depending on whether you get the fries medium, or large. (No, you cannot get small fries as part of a value meal.) This price is slightly lower than the price you would pay to buy a sandwich and fries without getting a value meal. I can't remember how much lower. I would have to go look. It might vary from store to store, too. That is the only thing that is a "bargain" or "value" or whatever you want to call it.
The drink is charged separately from the sandwich-fries price. You are REQUIRED to buy the drink. You do not get any kind of deal, or bargain, or "value," on the drink. The drink is the regular price. It does not "come with" the value meal.
You can get any type of drink. Don't worry about whether you are "substituting" some other drink instead of the drink that "comes with" the meal. There is no specific drink that comes with any meal. For instance, you could get an iced coffee with a Happy Meal if you felt like it, instead of a kids' drink like apple juice. You are expected to "substitute" something, and in fact, we're HOPING that you do. Don't apologize for substituting the "wrong" drink instead of the one you are "supposed" to get. We're glad. It makes us richer.
The only thing you can't do is you can't buy the "value" drinks, the $1.00 drinks, like the small soda, with certain meals. You can with some meals, but not all of them. At my store, if you buy a large sweet tea with a value meal, the sweet tea is a different price than the usual $1.00 price that you get if you buy the sweet tea alone.
Why can't you get the cheap "value" drinks? Because the drink is where the profit comes from in the value meal. We make lots and lots of profit on the drink, and that profit makes up for the small amount that we lose when we give you a lower price for the sandwich and fries. So we want to charge the full price for drinks. The value meal encourages people (or, actually, requires them) to buy a drink, even if they don't really want the drink, and they think they're getting a deal, so they buy a drink they don't really want. Without value meals, we would probably sell a lot fewer drinks, and the drinks are very profitable.
You cannot get a value meal and then say "I don't want the drink." If you do that, the order taker will roll their eyes, delete the value meal that they just entered in the computer, and charge you for a sandwich and a fry separately at their regular price, and they won't be bothered trying to explain this to you. Also, you can't cheat and get a free cup of tap water with a value meal. That will also get an eye roll and a deletion and re-entry on the computer. The computer won't let us do those things. We don't have a choice about it.
When you get the reduced-price sandwich and fries, plus the drink, the total price is higher than, for instance, getting only a sandwich and fries. You are spending more money total. Many, many people have been fooled by this sales tactic, at many different places, not just at McDonald's, but at grocery stores and any other place that says "Buy 10 for $10!" Do you really need 10 gizmos? You are spending more money total than you would have spent if you only got one or two at the regular price. Sometimes, you really don't need 10 gizmos taking up space in your house even though they were a bargain.
There is only one sense in which a particular drink "comes with" a value meal. When you read the prices listed on the sign, and you ask, "How can I get that price?" there is only one particular drink that will give you the price it says on the sign. That's usually what people mean when they ask for the drink that "comes with" the meal. With the dinner value meals, this means a medium soda or a large soda. With the breakfast value meals, it's a small coffee. If you get anything else except a small coffee, you won't get the total price listed on the sign, you'll pay more, because all the other drinks are more expensive than a small coffee.
I have had arguments with customers, I have had customers get totally confused, as they try to tell me that they are being cheated because the total price of their value meal is higher than they think it ought to be, because they ordered some other drink instead of, for instance, the small coffee with their breakfast. I can show them the receipt, I can explain how our prices work, and they will still sit there and argue with me and get confused and annoyed. They have this idea in their head that we are supposed to be doing them a favor by giving them "value," instead of doing what we are really doing, which is, finding a way to make more profits for McDonald's, by requiring people to buy a drink that they might not want.
The Happy Meal is the one that causes the most trouble. I have had people insist that they don't want a drink with their Happy Meal. You don't have a choice about it. There is no way to type it into the computer and take off the drink and reduce the price. If you get a Happy Meal, that is going to have the price of a drink added to it somewhere, and the only thing you have a choice about is getting the cheapest possible drink. I've had to tell customers "We will charge you for a drink, but if you want, we just won't give it to you." They don't want to be handed a drink that will get thrown in the garbage. Again, there is no way that we can get rid of the drink to reduce the price of a meal.
If you don't want a drink with your Happy Meal, and if it's a matter of principle, and you don't want to be charged for an imaginary drink that you will either not receive, or will throw away, then you could order all of the items separately, the sandwich, the fries, and the toy (and you will be charged for the toy), and you could ask us to please put them into a Happy Meal box or bag for you.
By the way, children probably don't love Happy Meal toys as much as you think they do. I remember being a child, and I felt sorry for all the junky toys that I never played with, the toys that got buried in the bottom of the toybox and left there for years and years. Happy Meal toys are exactly that kind of toy. I couldn't bear the thought of throwing a toy in the garbage. (Ever seen Toy Story? I felt that way about my toys. Every toy was alive. It was wasteful to bring home a "live" toy and then bury it in the bottom of the toybox and then feel sorry for it. And I already felt that way when I was a kid.)
So... that was a huge rant. I was going to try to make a long story short, but instead I made a short story long.
Showing posts with label random. Show all posts
Showing posts with label random. Show all posts
Thursday, October 21, 2010
Monday, August 23, 2010
a handwritten note; dreams; random topics; electronic harassment - ultrasonic attacks
8:42 PM 8/23/10
curtis - no phone, nickname, note, dream
new tables?
watching movies - a substitute for socializing
feeling optimistic, which means sjw exposure
not trying to do online dating now
flat tire
new refrigerator
dreadlocks progress
I'm not sure if I have enough mental focus to write a blog today. I have a few different things to say. I could tell the dreams first. The dreams are always fun to write about. There were a couple of sexual dreams. This happened because I gave Curtis a handwritten note. I told him that I had texted him a bunch of times the other day. He was shocked and surprised. He didn't get any of them, and he didn't get the voice mail message I left either. 'Maybe they shut my phone off already,' he said, as though he had been using it up till now and thought it was okay. His phone is being shut off temporarily because he didn't pay the bill this month. He hasn't worked enough hours to make enough money. So that was why I decided to give him a handwritten note. He told me he also doesn't have internet right now, so he's not getting his emails.
I gave him a note which didn't ask him to *do* anything specific. I told him, 'Humor me,' and handed him the note. 'Don't worry about it - it's just a reminder,' I said. In the note, I summed up all of the things which I've said to him again and again, many times, in various notes and text messages and emails that he hasn't gotten. The note's theme was, 'I always say the same things.' I always tell him that someone's blocking my emails and phone calls, so I worry about how I will reach him if he, or I, leave our jobs for any reason. I always tell him that I want to be friends with him away from work, and that I'd like to be friends with him a long time, not just temporarily. Sometimes I tell him that I love him and that I want to touch him but I don't want to make him uncomfortable.
Later that day - after he probably read the note - I walked past him, while he was standing with a bunch of people, and he was watching me with big, big, wide eyes. I don't know whether that emotion was fear, excitement, shock, or whatever, he was just wide-eyed. That is something I love about him, how his face, and his whole body, express his feelings in a dramatic, visible, obvious way.
He has always responded positively to my notes and to my touch. He keeps coming back and calling me pet names. He doesn't avoid me or act grossed out. In fact, several times when I've given him notes in the past, the name-calling started happening even more than ever before. I looked at his girlfriend, and I decided, yes, I'm ugly, but she's ugly too, and he's marrying her. So he's able to tolerate ugly girls.
Well, since I gave him that note, I had dreams that night. In the first dream, I was kissing a very little boy, a prepubescent child. I didn't expect to kiss him. I was just leaning over close to him and he started kissing me, if I remember correctly. Then he started rubbing against me and he had an orgasm. It was sort of unrealistic. He ejaculated a clear liquid and it sprayed up between us. Then a voice said, 'You didn't expect him to get hard.'
Then there was another dream the next day, in the morning sometime. This was a 'symbolic' dream that the voices explained to me after they woke me up. It's complicated, so I'll just tell what happened and then explain the symbolic interpretation. My ex-boyfriend Eric and I went over to 'John's' house (my brother). We were playing video games on his computer because I had a problem with my own computer at home. It was a role-playing game, something like dungeons and dragons. The character in the game was controlling an animal using magic. I couldn't tell what the animal was, from the image, but the voices told me it was a goat. It was standing up on legs and walking, so it didn't look like a normal goat - it must have been an anthropomorphic goat. That's when they woke me up, and then they proudly explained to me the interpretation of their dream.
John (my brother) = I moved into John's apartment because I was kicked out of my parents' house, so John = Carrie, Curtis's girlfriend, because Curtis moved into her house after getting kicked out of his parents' house. John represents Carrie.
Eric represents me. Eric was my 'older' boyfriend. Now I'm the older one.
I was Curtis in the dream.
(Yes, every person was somebody other than themselves, in a different role.)
We were playing a 'role playing game.' Every person was in a new role this time. The game was a sexual game, and the animal was a goat - the goat represents a penis. I had to use this computer at my brother's house, without asking his permission, because I had a computer problem at home - they told me that I would be on Curtis and Carrie's bed (the 'computer'), without Carrie's permission, instead of my own bed, because I don't really have a bed here at my apartment. And we were afraid that 'John' (Carrie) would find out that we were using this 'computer' (the bed) to play 'role-playing games' on. And the voices got even more complicated with their explanation, saying that I was controlling the goat without touching it, by magic. I'm not sure what that meant. I couldn't see what the video game character was doing to magically control the goat, because that's when they woke me up.
It's complicated when I look at what I've written. My brother John was Carrie; I was Curtis; my older-than-me ex-boyfriend Eric was me.
Those dreams weren't quite as cute as the furry black bull dream, but they were okay.
********
I can't stand to do online dating right now. There is this inhibition stopping me.
*******
My life seems to go nowhere, because the attackers constantly prevent me from thinking. I could meditate and get a perspective on my situation and quickly decide what is the best thing to do, and then do it. But I can't do that. I get zapped every time I think. They were doing it the other day, and if it were possible to kill them, I would have done it that day. I was trying to think about finding a REAL husband, not a young guy who's extremely attractive but can't be reached and already has another girlfriend that he'll be marrying. They kept forcing me to fall asleep *EVERY TIME* I tried to think about the real husband. Curtis isn't going to be my husband. He is someone else's husband. The most I could be is an extramarital affair, if that.
****
The nickname: He must have received the BAD text message (but not the good ones), because he acted like he'd gotten the message that I had sent him, telling him not to call me that name anymore. Then again, it might have also been because he called me the name in front of Stan, and I responded by acting hurt and then saying, in a slightly angry voice, 'Yeah, THAT'S ME,' and then walking away. Anyway, he either got the text message or he didn't. Regardless, he changed what he was doing. He started calling EVERYONE the nickname, at least the adjective part of it. (I wrote a blog a week or two ago saying, pretend the nickname was 'my fair-skinned beauty,' and he started calling everyone 'fair-skinned'. It's like that. It's an unusual adjective that you wouldn't use in an everyday sentence.)
He saw me walk into the back room, where I went to write a department transfer, and he was drunk on Dayquil that day, since he had a bad cold. (It was so bad, he went to the hospital the next day. I don't know how exactly he was sick, or why he needed to go to the hospital, but he did, and he said they gave him two shots, in his butt. He was limping the next day. What kind of shots do they give someone who has a cold? I hate mainstream medicine and its placebos.) So he was acting even more talkative and friendly than usual, being drunk on Dayquil, and when I went back to do the transfer, he said, 'Is that my fair-skinned.... Orry? I thought you were fair-skinned Orry.' (Yes, I'm substituting the adjective.) I said, 'Yeah, he's about the same size as me.' (Orry is short and small, but I don't find him attractive merely because of that. He's not a competitor. I'm not helplessly attracted to *ALL* small guys.)
So whatever I did, I got him to start calling everybody the adjective. He might possibly not need to do that anymore. We sat together and talked a bit one day - I already wrote about that. Then he sat next to me again when I was on my lunch break and getting ready to go back in, and I stayed out there five minutes later than I was supposed to, because I decided that spending five extra minutes with him was more important than getting back to work on time. He is still being friendly to me, after all of this. He still acts trusting instead of afraid or 'weirded out.'
I'm not being extremely aggressive or pushy. I'm not putting deadlines on it. I'm not directly asking him to go out with me at a specific time. ('Go out' is the wrong phrase to use. I don't want to 'go out' with him. I want to spend time together with him, doing anything at all.) I'm just reminding him that I exist and that I care about him and that I want to continue being his friend even though I can't reliably get emails or text messages or phone calls to him.
*******
I had an extremely flat tire today. I had noticed it was getting flatter over the past few weeks. Today I checked it. It's supposed to be 32 psi. It was 10! It was 1/3 of the pressure it was supposed to be. It was so flat, the sides were bulging out at the bottom. I'm lucky to be alive. It could have failed while I was driving down the highway and I would have gone straight into the oncoming lane. I refilled it, and I will keep an eye on it. If it keeps getting flat, I will have to get a new tire or something.
New refrigerator? I was talking to the maintenance guy today. He mentioned that an energy efficiency inspector would be coming over, and that we were all going to get new refrigerators for all the apartments, no matter what. That's nice for me, because I still don't feel safe using the fridge after the bone marrow vapors. There's just a tiny bit left, and I don't want to ruin any food or drinks I put in there.
Dreadlocks: I started the no-shampoo experiment in January, 2009. I wrote about it in this blog. My hair gradually formed natural dreadlocks. In the beginning, I had a couple of badly formed monster locks that were too big and in a bad position. They were pulling the hair in a bad way, and it hurt, and it was hard to lie down on that part of my head when I slept. Now, they have gradually moved and mellowed out a little bit, and they're not really pulling anymore. Some of the roots connected to the monster locks have fallen out, so that the lock isn't connected to as many roots as it was in the beginning. The locks are moving to different positions on the scalp, instead of staying in just one place. But I still have a bald spot on the right top side, where there is hardly any hair, and a big empty space in between the locks. It's not 'bald,' it's just thin.
Tables: I got rid of my tables that I had at the other apartment, because they were contaminated along with everything else. I am thinking of getting new ones and putting cardboard on them (so that it's easy to clean up if they get contaminated again), and under them, so that I can set up my computer table and use it more easily to do computer projects and anything else.
Curtis said he's been watching a lot of movies, since he's disconnected from cable TV right now. I've been watching movies too. I rented Twilight - New Moon, and watched it again, and it didn't suck as much, now that I understand what's going on, and now that I've seen the first movie and read some of the first book. Movies are my substitute for socializing. I am not spending time with real people. I am watching imaginary people without having to interact with them, and they're pretty to look at, and people have a real need to look at beautiful people. I think it's natural to need to see beautiful people. That's why I'm interested in Weston Price's studies of the primitive diets and the facial deformities that make us ugly. We don't have to be ugly. An ugly person can have beautiful children if they use the diet. That is what I am hoping to do.
I think I'll post this now.
The murderers are enraging me while I wait for this blog page to load. I have been hit with St. John's Wort recently and so they are able to trigger rage. My elbow is leaning on the cardboard box where my computer keyboard is, and the murderers are shooting sonic bullets, or whatever it is that they use, to slowly make the computer keyboard slip downwards under my elbow, a fraction of a millimeter at a time, over and over, while triggering the feeling of rage. I don't know why they do the slips. It makes me want to kill them. AJH at tiworld.blogspot.com knows about this. He has the same thing happen. Clicking, snapping noises on objects near me, and my body parts 'slipping' down against a surface, without moving at all, or slowly moving, when there is, in reality, enough friction to hold them still, and they shouldn't be moving, and when it slips, it emits an extremely high-pitched, painful noise above the level of human hearing, but it's audible enough to cause me physical pain, and rage. I usually hear voices at the same moment that it slips, or just afterwards. It's like the sonic bullets are being used to 'deliver' the voices. Sometimes I think the sonic bullets are taking snapshots of an image, the image of me sitting here. Sometimes when they do this, I punch something and hurt my hand. I try not to do that, and it mostly happens if I'm having a St. John's Wort reaction.
curtis - no phone, nickname, note, dream
new tables?
watching movies - a substitute for socializing
feeling optimistic, which means sjw exposure
not trying to do online dating now
flat tire
new refrigerator
dreadlocks progress
I'm not sure if I have enough mental focus to write a blog today. I have a few different things to say. I could tell the dreams first. The dreams are always fun to write about. There were a couple of sexual dreams. This happened because I gave Curtis a handwritten note. I told him that I had texted him a bunch of times the other day. He was shocked and surprised. He didn't get any of them, and he didn't get the voice mail message I left either. 'Maybe they shut my phone off already,' he said, as though he had been using it up till now and thought it was okay. His phone is being shut off temporarily because he didn't pay the bill this month. He hasn't worked enough hours to make enough money. So that was why I decided to give him a handwritten note. He told me he also doesn't have internet right now, so he's not getting his emails.
I gave him a note which didn't ask him to *do* anything specific. I told him, 'Humor me,' and handed him the note. 'Don't worry about it - it's just a reminder,' I said. In the note, I summed up all of the things which I've said to him again and again, many times, in various notes and text messages and emails that he hasn't gotten. The note's theme was, 'I always say the same things.' I always tell him that someone's blocking my emails and phone calls, so I worry about how I will reach him if he, or I, leave our jobs for any reason. I always tell him that I want to be friends with him away from work, and that I'd like to be friends with him a long time, not just temporarily. Sometimes I tell him that I love him and that I want to touch him but I don't want to make him uncomfortable.
Later that day - after he probably read the note - I walked past him, while he was standing with a bunch of people, and he was watching me with big, big, wide eyes. I don't know whether that emotion was fear, excitement, shock, or whatever, he was just wide-eyed. That is something I love about him, how his face, and his whole body, express his feelings in a dramatic, visible, obvious way.
He has always responded positively to my notes and to my touch. He keeps coming back and calling me pet names. He doesn't avoid me or act grossed out. In fact, several times when I've given him notes in the past, the name-calling started happening even more than ever before. I looked at his girlfriend, and I decided, yes, I'm ugly, but she's ugly too, and he's marrying her. So he's able to tolerate ugly girls.
Well, since I gave him that note, I had dreams that night. In the first dream, I was kissing a very little boy, a prepubescent child. I didn't expect to kiss him. I was just leaning over close to him and he started kissing me, if I remember correctly. Then he started rubbing against me and he had an orgasm. It was sort of unrealistic. He ejaculated a clear liquid and it sprayed up between us. Then a voice said, 'You didn't expect him to get hard.'
Then there was another dream the next day, in the morning sometime. This was a 'symbolic' dream that the voices explained to me after they woke me up. It's complicated, so I'll just tell what happened and then explain the symbolic interpretation. My ex-boyfriend Eric and I went over to 'John's' house (my brother). We were playing video games on his computer because I had a problem with my own computer at home. It was a role-playing game, something like dungeons and dragons. The character in the game was controlling an animal using magic. I couldn't tell what the animal was, from the image, but the voices told me it was a goat. It was standing up on legs and walking, so it didn't look like a normal goat - it must have been an anthropomorphic goat. That's when they woke me up, and then they proudly explained to me the interpretation of their dream.
John (my brother) = I moved into John's apartment because I was kicked out of my parents' house, so John = Carrie, Curtis's girlfriend, because Curtis moved into her house after getting kicked out of his parents' house. John represents Carrie.
Eric represents me. Eric was my 'older' boyfriend. Now I'm the older one.
I was Curtis in the dream.
(Yes, every person was somebody other than themselves, in a different role.)
We were playing a 'role playing game.' Every person was in a new role this time. The game was a sexual game, and the animal was a goat - the goat represents a penis. I had to use this computer at my brother's house, without asking his permission, because I had a computer problem at home - they told me that I would be on Curtis and Carrie's bed (the 'computer'), without Carrie's permission, instead of my own bed, because I don't really have a bed here at my apartment. And we were afraid that 'John' (Carrie) would find out that we were using this 'computer' (the bed) to play 'role-playing games' on. And the voices got even more complicated with their explanation, saying that I was controlling the goat without touching it, by magic. I'm not sure what that meant. I couldn't see what the video game character was doing to magically control the goat, because that's when they woke me up.
It's complicated when I look at what I've written. My brother John was Carrie; I was Curtis; my older-than-me ex-boyfriend Eric was me.
Those dreams weren't quite as cute as the furry black bull dream, but they were okay.
********
I can't stand to do online dating right now. There is this inhibition stopping me.
*******
My life seems to go nowhere, because the attackers constantly prevent me from thinking. I could meditate and get a perspective on my situation and quickly decide what is the best thing to do, and then do it. But I can't do that. I get zapped every time I think. They were doing it the other day, and if it were possible to kill them, I would have done it that day. I was trying to think about finding a REAL husband, not a young guy who's extremely attractive but can't be reached and already has another girlfriend that he'll be marrying. They kept forcing me to fall asleep *EVERY TIME* I tried to think about the real husband. Curtis isn't going to be my husband. He is someone else's husband. The most I could be is an extramarital affair, if that.
****
The nickname: He must have received the BAD text message (but not the good ones), because he acted like he'd gotten the message that I had sent him, telling him not to call me that name anymore. Then again, it might have also been because he called me the name in front of Stan, and I responded by acting hurt and then saying, in a slightly angry voice, 'Yeah, THAT'S ME,' and then walking away. Anyway, he either got the text message or he didn't. Regardless, he changed what he was doing. He started calling EVERYONE the nickname, at least the adjective part of it. (I wrote a blog a week or two ago saying, pretend the nickname was 'my fair-skinned beauty,' and he started calling everyone 'fair-skinned'. It's like that. It's an unusual adjective that you wouldn't use in an everyday sentence.)
He saw me walk into the back room, where I went to write a department transfer, and he was drunk on Dayquil that day, since he had a bad cold. (It was so bad, he went to the hospital the next day. I don't know how exactly he was sick, or why he needed to go to the hospital, but he did, and he said they gave him two shots, in his butt. He was limping the next day. What kind of shots do they give someone who has a cold? I hate mainstream medicine and its placebos.) So he was acting even more talkative and friendly than usual, being drunk on Dayquil, and when I went back to do the transfer, he said, 'Is that my fair-skinned.... Orry? I thought you were fair-skinned Orry.' (Yes, I'm substituting the adjective.) I said, 'Yeah, he's about the same size as me.' (Orry is short and small, but I don't find him attractive merely because of that. He's not a competitor. I'm not helplessly attracted to *ALL* small guys.)
So whatever I did, I got him to start calling everybody the adjective. He might possibly not need to do that anymore. We sat together and talked a bit one day - I already wrote about that. Then he sat next to me again when I was on my lunch break and getting ready to go back in, and I stayed out there five minutes later than I was supposed to, because I decided that spending five extra minutes with him was more important than getting back to work on time. He is still being friendly to me, after all of this. He still acts trusting instead of afraid or 'weirded out.'
I'm not being extremely aggressive or pushy. I'm not putting deadlines on it. I'm not directly asking him to go out with me at a specific time. ('Go out' is the wrong phrase to use. I don't want to 'go out' with him. I want to spend time together with him, doing anything at all.) I'm just reminding him that I exist and that I care about him and that I want to continue being his friend even though I can't reliably get emails or text messages or phone calls to him.
*******
I had an extremely flat tire today. I had noticed it was getting flatter over the past few weeks. Today I checked it. It's supposed to be 32 psi. It was 10! It was 1/3 of the pressure it was supposed to be. It was so flat, the sides were bulging out at the bottom. I'm lucky to be alive. It could have failed while I was driving down the highway and I would have gone straight into the oncoming lane. I refilled it, and I will keep an eye on it. If it keeps getting flat, I will have to get a new tire or something.
New refrigerator? I was talking to the maintenance guy today. He mentioned that an energy efficiency inspector would be coming over, and that we were all going to get new refrigerators for all the apartments, no matter what. That's nice for me, because I still don't feel safe using the fridge after the bone marrow vapors. There's just a tiny bit left, and I don't want to ruin any food or drinks I put in there.
Dreadlocks: I started the no-shampoo experiment in January, 2009. I wrote about it in this blog. My hair gradually formed natural dreadlocks. In the beginning, I had a couple of badly formed monster locks that were too big and in a bad position. They were pulling the hair in a bad way, and it hurt, and it was hard to lie down on that part of my head when I slept. Now, they have gradually moved and mellowed out a little bit, and they're not really pulling anymore. Some of the roots connected to the monster locks have fallen out, so that the lock isn't connected to as many roots as it was in the beginning. The locks are moving to different positions on the scalp, instead of staying in just one place. But I still have a bald spot on the right top side, where there is hardly any hair, and a big empty space in between the locks. It's not 'bald,' it's just thin.
Tables: I got rid of my tables that I had at the other apartment, because they were contaminated along with everything else. I am thinking of getting new ones and putting cardboard on them (so that it's easy to clean up if they get contaminated again), and under them, so that I can set up my computer table and use it more easily to do computer projects and anything else.
Curtis said he's been watching a lot of movies, since he's disconnected from cable TV right now. I've been watching movies too. I rented Twilight - New Moon, and watched it again, and it didn't suck as much, now that I understand what's going on, and now that I've seen the first movie and read some of the first book. Movies are my substitute for socializing. I am not spending time with real people. I am watching imaginary people without having to interact with them, and they're pretty to look at, and people have a real need to look at beautiful people. I think it's natural to need to see beautiful people. That's why I'm interested in Weston Price's studies of the primitive diets and the facial deformities that make us ugly. We don't have to be ugly. An ugly person can have beautiful children if they use the diet. That is what I am hoping to do.
I think I'll post this now.
The murderers are enraging me while I wait for this blog page to load. I have been hit with St. John's Wort recently and so they are able to trigger rage. My elbow is leaning on the cardboard box where my computer keyboard is, and the murderers are shooting sonic bullets, or whatever it is that they use, to slowly make the computer keyboard slip downwards under my elbow, a fraction of a millimeter at a time, over and over, while triggering the feeling of rage. I don't know why they do the slips. It makes me want to kill them. AJH at tiworld.blogspot.com knows about this. He has the same thing happen. Clicking, snapping noises on objects near me, and my body parts 'slipping' down against a surface, without moving at all, or slowly moving, when there is, in reality, enough friction to hold them still, and they shouldn't be moving, and when it slips, it emits an extremely high-pitched, painful noise above the level of human hearing, but it's audible enough to cause me physical pain, and rage. I usually hear voices at the same moment that it slips, or just afterwards. It's like the sonic bullets are being used to 'deliver' the voices. Sometimes I think the sonic bullets are taking snapshots of an image, the image of me sitting here. Sometimes when they do this, I punch something and hurt my hand. I try not to do that, and it mostly happens if I'm having a St. John's Wort reaction.
Monday, August 16, 2010
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.
(*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.
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