I Ain't Afraid of No Daleks

So, I seem to be upsetting a number of people with my reality...and therefore I will mostly revert back to the same old boring discussons about absolutely nothing important.

I have a few things to say first, and this will be the last comments on my real, true life:

For me, it's not safe or nice or cozy--I live on the edge constantly, from day to day, week to week...never knowing if, or rather when, my world's going to come crashing to a halt. Let me tell you, it's a hell of a way to live.

My life is not in any way secure, is never completely safe, in the sense of having a "normal" everyday existance...and hasn't been for the past year. Often, it may only be worry about having enough food to eat, or money for transport to work, or money to keep the electric and phone on--sometimes, it's much, much worse...from living through the death of someone close, to having to throw away five years of education, to being jobless, to losing my home and most of my few remaining possessions. Repeatedly, I face, major crisises and my worst nightmares on a regular basis--sometimes there's distant friends (whom I never actually physically see), and sometimes--there's no one. My worst nightmare really is being homeless...to me, it actually is more frightening than death.

What happened Tuesday, well, I don't think my reaction was overboard. To find an analogy that most people can relate to: It's like someone who's lives in fear of getting burned alive, being trapped in a burning building. It's like a man who's terrified of drowning, being on the Titanic when it struck the iceburg and started sinking. That was Tuesday night. I can't think of any better way to describe it.

Okay, so Tuesday night (my time) and Wednesday, and part of Friday--I freaked out like a little girl. I'm sorry if my reaction to my real-life wide-awake nightmare--coming true for the second time this year, bothered some people.

Therefore, since no one has come forward to tell me to quit it..I will continue this blog--but will no longer discuss my personal life, in regards to the bad stuff---from now on it will be all fluff and glitter, because God forbid, the general public should have find out that reality is not a TV show or a popular novel.

For my friends who want to keep tabs on the "real" me, if you don't have my other blog address, send me a message and I will provide it for you. I am switching to that blog on Sunday night (my time--five hours behind the U.K.) for daily updates on my present true situation.

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That said, now for the trivial stuff:

Just read the Doctor Who novel (thanks, GS!), Heritage. It was written six years ago--yet found a good many similarities between the Doctor (7th Doctor) in that book, and Russell T. Davies' idea of the "New" Doctor Who. The 7th Doc in Heritage, is very, very dark and brooding...and his thoughts often seem to mirror the present Doctor's (9th and 10th) more darker thoughts--especially in School Reunion, when Tennant's Doctor says, "Everyone died...I lived." I'm wondering if Mr. Davies got some of his ideas from this novel, or if it's just a case of two mind's thinking alike. Guess I'll never know.

Speaking of Series II, there's seems to be quite a few mentions of the weather--namely the drop in temperature. Leaving me to ponder, if this is just to explain the actor's breath being seen in a summer episode, just casual conversation, or is it related to something that's going to happen in Series III? Guess I won't know about that, either, ey?

And, speaking of books, I'm also reading a somewhat amusing story called, "A Mulligan for Bobby Jobe." It's a novel involving southern rednecks and pro-golf. Not bad--quite a few little chuckles in there. I've actually known (not well, mind) guys like the one's in the story. I'm not hugely into golf, myself, other than watching in on tele sometimes, and playing it on Nintendo, when I had one.

One of the things I will miss about not being in Lake George: the arcade...I'm getting rather good at the western gunslinger simulator...on the "deputy" (beginner) level, I got my quick draw down to .57 seconds, on occaision...not bad for a 46 year old, crotchety, arthritic old maid, yeah?

Did well shopping last night---didn't think I could manage meat this week--but found out the grocers near the downtown of the city, on Fridays, discounts nearly-expired meat. Good deals...got 3 "Quebec" seasoned chicken legs for 75 cents, a "Chicken mignon" (basically a itty-bitty little piece of chicken breast, wrapped in bacon) for 50 cents, a large package of turkey meatballs for a bit over a dollar...not bad...thought I'd have to live off the same food all week..spent all of 11 dollars on groceries--tho' I still need milk, margarine, and something for sandwiches to take to work--as I'm out of peanut butter (Thank God!) and the tuna is nearly gone. So I'll try to find some salami or ham or bologna that's cheap. Forgot to get bin bags, as well...and kitty litter. Still, I was hoping to keep the food bill for the week under 20 dollars (ten pounds), so I guess I'm at least going to do that, anyway.

So, still a few snow flurries around today, but that's November for you.

Going to be a cold Thanksgiving holiday, this year, I suspect..well...yours truly is "thankful" that I don't have to wrestle with cooking a turkey anymore. It's such a joy, on Thanksgiving morning, to wake up and realize that the Turkey is still frozen. Or to be invited to a relatives house, and drive there, only to find that said relavtive fell asleep on the couch and burned the turkey to the point where it's ready to explode.

Americans can't use telephones! Every day on this job, I bless my late mum for forcing me to learn telephone etiquite in the second grade! Often, instead of saying "hello" like normal people, the person on the other end will respond, "What?" or "Who is this?" I hate to say this, but cultrually, I find our manners a bit..embarrasing, in America, sometimes. Really, it amazes me. I forgot how many people in this country, can't do a simple thing like answer a phone civially....I'd like to strap them in a chair and make them watch Hyacynth Bucket from Keeping up Appearences..."The bouquet residence, the lady of the house speaking..." that's great...I've been tempted to try that myself, sometimes..."the G______ residence, the lady of the house speaking..." in my best upper crust shrill voice, ha-ha.

..I did have some busy-sounding lady answer her phone today..."grand central station." (an American slang term--when a home or business is busy, we say, "it's like Grand Central (railroad) Station in here!" Anyway, I found that amusing.

Thanks for the words of advice.

I DON'T want to put my cats down!

It's just that NO ONE will take them! No one. I've called, to date, 7 animal shelters--rescue shelters, county shelters, Humane Society, ASPCA, the dog warden, pet shops...NO ONE. The problem is, is that local cities and towns are rounding up ferals and strays, and people are also dropping off unwanted cats, faster than they can be adopted. There's literally no more room at the inn. And, I've run out of shelters to call--I even phoned a shelter in southern Vermont, some 75 miles away!

And even if by some miracle, I do find a place, this time I cannot take them all with me! That's what got me evicted in the first place---the shelters were just as full in March as they are now, and no one would take ANY cats...so I was forced to literally smuggle 5 cats into my flat--and finally, the landlord found out (illegally snooping around while the plumber was here) and he blew a gasket--even tho' they've caused no damage.

I just am at a loss over what to do...one no-kill shelter agreed to take up to five cats---if, they had all their shots and the documents to prove it (no documents) and if I give the shelter 70 dollar donation per cat! (70 dollars = around 35 pounds). Yeah, for that kind of "donation," I don't wonder they're the only one's taking strays. I'm on the waiting list at two shelters--one is 5 weeks, one, 10 weeks or more.

So you see my dilemia?

As for not being "normal," I'm not. I seldom tell anyone this, and hesitate to admit this now--but...I'm bipolar. And believe me--considering all the...stuff I've had--virtully continously--over the lasst year, I don't think suicidal thoughts are all that unusual---I'm trying to avoid thinking like that--but the suicide thing is NOT an attention getter, as you seem to think! It was a sincere natural reaction---how the hell would you like to spend a day at work, thinking things are getting better and everything is actually going back to someplace closer to "normal," only to get off the bus--after a 15 hour day---and be confronted by a pissed off landlord, screamed at to get you and your cats out in 20 days or else--how the hell--and you with only---very, very very--literally 4 dollars (2 pounds) to your name? And no one (locally) to turn to...it's late, no one is up, you are totally alone in the dark of night, confronted with the reality...you have no money. YOu have no car. You have to get rid of your pets. you are about to lose the only roof over your head that you have....

I can't help but wonder, GH, what your reaction would be? You have a home, you have a husband, you have security and likely, family somewhere that cares about you...how can you know what this kind of pain is, or what your reaction would be in these circumstances? I like you, GH, and am sorry to lose your friendship over this.

So maybe I was right, about suffering in silence?

It was never my intent to hurt anyone. I didn't mean to be so thoughtless regarding the feelings of others...but I'm just a tad overwhelmed at the moment, and maybe I'm not thinking right--I'm also still dealing with this blasted PCS, and my head isn't 100% right yet--a lady screamed at the top of her
lungs in my ear today, and I had to disconnect her, because the noise made me dizzy for a moment.

Oksy, now you know world. I'm NOT nomal--reading my blogs should have given you a clue, but hey...so if my having a mental illness, or I'm freaking out over a serious crisis, or just saying something that makes you uncomfortable to know me---okay. Fine. I'm used to that--all the way. I'm sorry that me being me makes people uncomfortable. I would lie if I said it didn't make me sad, but...it's like being alone...it's part of my life, like breathing. So, if you are discomforted by my blog--sorry. This is me. This is my life. I'm not pretty, and it's not always pretty. It is, what...it is.

If more people feel that I should quit this blog stuff...okay, let me know...and I will stop. I have a secondary blog which only a handful of people know about, so no shirt off my back, if I don't use this blog. I don't use this blog for any other purpose than a personal journal/diary...I can drift off to my other, much more obscure blog, no probs, just say the word.