I Ain't Afraid of No Daleks

Instead of playing loud music to cover up your inadequacies as a male, why don't you just spray paint "I have a tiny manhood" on the sides of your car, instead? It'll save you from going deaf in your old age, and the rest of us from the extreme desire to pull you out of your car and slap you upside the head.

I just went back downstairs to try one more time to fix my bike chain--and I did it! Whoo-hoo! hurrah!!!

Mind you, I nearly busted a finger doing it.

Also, a friend did something utterly fantastic, sent me a gift voucher for horseback riding! (Playwrite27 punches the air and does the "I'm going riding" happy dance).

I am chuffed!

Playwrite27 wishes you a good day.

It's Tuesday...nothing special--other than I didn't sleep a wink all night. I am so not a hot weather person. Not that I've ever been thrilled with 15 or 20 below zero F weather, or 5 months of snow, such as we get here in the northeast. Still, not used to hot weather, really.

I'd go up to the lake for a swim, but I didn't get to bed till dawn, and woke at noon, and am far too knackered--and anyway, even if I left right now, I'd only have time to wet a toe, before I'd have to hop the trolley bus again, and come home to dress for work. Working nights has its pluses and minuses. I mean, it leaves me free to do stuff in the day time--but I miss stuff that's going on at night...and sometimes it throws my body clock off a bit.

I didn't eat until 2.00 in the afternoon. I start shift at 5.00 pm, so at least I can relax a bit before I start trying not to feel bad again tonight, as I struggle with the new tasks at work. I hate being learning disabled, not that I'm ashamed of it, but that there's so much I want to do, and I can't--or I can, but not without a tremendous struggle--and that makes me genuinely sad, sometimes...and yes, I admit, a bit envious of "normal" people, who take simple things like simple subtraction/division, multitasking, chemistry/science, learning languages, reading/playing music, etc, for granted.

Gosh, didn't I used to cringe, when some person would say, "Oh, I'm bad at math, too." No, I'm not "bad" at maths. In fact, I sort of like algerbra. It's my brain won't let me do it..it unconsciously "skips" steps in a sequence, and doesn't like to do stuff in reverse...it's not about being "bad" at something, it's about having a mis-firing brain. I try, I really do try, but trying can be a pointless exercise, when you are simply incapable of doing something. That's a horrible realization.

It's just a matter of being on my own, and learning to cope. It's just like my bi-polar bit. I have to make myself very self-aware--which can be a very ugly experience, sometimes. I have to try and be patient with myself, try and make people understand my shortcomings--even tho' it may count against me. Of course, I can't tell them I've a mental illness--not in America! I don't know about over there in Europe, but in the USA, mental illness is the Aids and leporacy of the 21st century. The LAST thing you want to do in this nation, is to tell anyone (close friends excepted, perhaps) that you have a mental disability! NO. NO. NO. Not a good idea.

The media has portrayed us all as a bunch of violent crazies, ready to blow the head off anyone who so much as looks at us wrong. They say the word "mentally ill" like they're talking about a diseased rat carrying the bubonic plauge.

Even telling someone I'm learning disabled, can be a delicate matter. For one thing, people think that means I'm a dummy. And yeah, I'll be the first to admit I can be a bit...slow, soemtimes. But actually, my I.Q. is "about" average, I was told once. Or, they associate "learning disabled" with ADD or dyslexia. While sometimes I can be a tiny bit dyslexic when I write, I can read just about anything you put in front of me--as long as it's in English. I've had people ask me if I read, and when I tell them I own over 150 books at home and that I adore reading, and literally grew up hanging out with mum in her library--and in fact, could technically work as a librarian (except that in New York state, you are required to have a Master of Library Science degree from SUNY), they actually raise an eyebrow. No really, I've seen it a number of times. "Oh. That's nice."

Anyway, telling someone you have an "invisible" disability, is a tricky, tricky thing. Now, people will sympathise with my blindness (I sometimes have to warn people I have trouble seeing in dim light--from total blindness to it simply being like I'm wearing sunglasses indoors). They see me limp, and get that I don't walk well. But...you can't see a damaged brain, you can't see emotional pain. And, the difference between a physical problem and an "invisible" one, it's a huge, huge gaping difference, in the way you are treated, let me tell you.

So, have to dress for work in an hour. Haven't decided what to wear. I'm so angry about my bicycle. If something doesn't belong to you, you leave it alone. It's a simple concept, but one most parents don't seem to teach their children in stinking Glens Falls. It's not a financial loss--it was only $5 and certainly, I got my money's worth out of it, in the two month's I've had it. But, I am so disappointed. I tried to wrangle with the chain this afternoon, to no avail. I'll get that lubricant spray this weekend, and give it another go, see what happens. But, looks like I may have to get my new walking shoes--my Ariat waterproof hiking/paddock boots, out of hock a little earlier than planned. They're on layaway at Tractor Supply. I was going to pay $20 in August, and the other $20 in Sept. But I'm going to try to get them out sooner, if I can budget it in. We'll see. My current walking/riding boots are OK, but getting a bit worn and not as supportive as they were.

It's hard without the bike, I've come to really appreciate it. It got me more places, faster--and farther, than I ever could go, walking. Jeez, and I really was so chuffed to get to work faster and less painfully. Even the ten minute walk to work can be quite uncomfortable--especially when I have to wear my posh shoes, which aren't exactly well suited to walking.

Someone e-mailed me the link to this, so I decided to pass it on. Russell T. Davies and David Tennant being interview by a (very) blonde mall/beach girl...I'm sure it was a novel experience for them, being repeatedly called, "you guys" by a television presenter.

Well, this video should make all his neo-conservative/right-wing Christian American fans, very happy.

Do you lot have ANY idea, how many times a day I get hits on my blog for "David Tennant Gay?" What the HELL is with this obsession as to some bloke's sexual status? Who the hell cares? What business of it is theirs, what gender the man prefers to be with?

I mean, seriously...it's a big universe out there, why waste a night googleing to find out if an actor is gay or straight. Why is that so important to some people? A person is a person is a person, yeah? It's how they behave that counts...what does it matter who they choose to date (or in my case, not date)?

Anyway, I was 'told' by some British DT fan, that she has an inside "scoop" (yeah, right) that the actor is getting hitched sometime in the next year...to his GIRLfriend. So, either they have some very interesting..erm, or he's probably not gay, if he dates women, yeah?

People who know me, are facinated by the fact that I'm a virgin, that I absolutely will not date a guy...so I sort of suppose I can, very loosely, understand this weird fascination with some Skinny Scottish guy's sexual...whatever. Me--hey, as long as the gent keeps working and giving us some more great stuff to watch...that's all that matters to me. But...pfft.

I understand some gays are forced to hide--like my two best friends and neighbours, in our rural very redneck, ultra-conservative mountain community about ten years ago, just so they could live in peace and not be shunned and/or abused by the local intellectually challenged, sexually insecure and cultrually backwards homophobes. But, normally, they don't have sex with women, unless they're....erm.

Anyway, someone e-mailed me and pleaded for me to post this video again because she can't find it--why, I don't know. It's on Youtube--a lot, apparently. Well, whatever. I found it again, but am posting a shorter version, without sound, just to avoid too much repetition.

I get the gay hits quite a lot on my blogs--especially Roasting David...and, of course, also a ton of "Nude/Naked" hits--but tonight, from the country of Spain, someone was looking for (and I swear, I absolutely am not making this up) "David Tennant pee pants."

Pee pants? David dear, do you have something you want to tell us? Or is the BBC doing Dr Who Adult Nappies now? David Tennant's face in grandad's crotch? Oh, sorry, even thinking that is just...so very wrong.

Just in the past few hours, I've gotten hits on my two blogs for David Tennant Gay (?) from:

Dubai
New Hampshire, USA
Georgia, USA
Michigan, USA
San Francisco, Calif.
Illinois, USA
Roseville, Calif.
Tulsa, Oklahoma
Syracuse, NY
Venice, Calif.
Midland, Tx
Bryan, TX
Dallas, Tx
L.A. calif.
Portland, Oregan
British Columbia, Canada
Anchorage, Alaska
Nottingham, UK
Washington, D.C. (maybe Joe Biden is...? Nahh.)
Vancouver, Washington state, USA
Hampshire, UK
Wigan, UK
Leeds, UK
Moscow, Russia
Stoke-on-Trent, UK

If you love an animal, I can say that chances are, he or she will love you back--unconditionally.

Yes, they are a resonsiblity. And yes, they can tie you down, sometimes--and oh yes, losing them can hurt so bad. But---they LOVE you. No matter how bad your day is, you know you'll have someone there, who won't judge you, won't shout or put you down. They will just accept you as you are--something most humans don't know how to do, and want to be with you, no matter what.

Most especially, 6 times out of 10, an abused animal won't hate you, if you love it, if you care for it. 6 times out of 10, an abused animal will love you so very much, for your kindness and care, and will give it back to you, tenfold.

Standardbred harness race horses, when they are no longer wanted for racing at tracks in the US and Canada, and/or for breeding, often end up at the slaughterhouse, or pulling tourists all day on hard pavement in heavily loaded carriages--or the Amish on A and B type roads, or taking out tourists at horse hire places--or even worse--they are simply abandoned by their owners/trainers, to starve or freeze to death.

But, sometimes though, they get lucky, and end up being adopted into private care....like these re-trained standardbred harness race horses in the video. Standardbreds are remarkably gentle (usually) for race horses, and quite intelligent. The standardbred I was petting last night, was a lovely, gentle horse, one I would be proud to own.

This was filmed in Springfield, Mass, at Equitana in November..I've tried to go a few times, but things keep coming of--and of course, now i have no car.

http://www.4thehorses.com/

I was sitting up in bed reading a really bad book before bedtime (meh-it was a one of those one-dollar shop books, "Oh, Play That Thing!" You get what you pay for)....suddenly, I realized that I'd never turned my computer off.

I walked into the front room, and went to turn the 'puter off...when I heard a noise out on my wee balcony. I thought all the cats were inside...even though I look, I have been known to sometimes accidently shut one of them out there, if the cat is hiding under a chair or in a dark corner. Makes for a very unhappy cat--especially if it starts raining...then you see how a cat can panic...especially an indoor one. "What the heck is this stuff...OMG, it's WET! Halp!!!"

Anyway, I thought I'd checked, but just to be safe, I opened the long sliding window and looked. Nothing...but, I heard a noise again. So, I stepped out onto the balcony, and leaned over the railing....

...and a big brown bat came swooping down from the eaves, within inches of my face!

WHOA!!!

Cripes, that scared me out of three year's growth!

Maaan. This sucks. Last week, I got robbed of $75, then had to deal with the "new job" at work, that was literally dropped into our laps at the last possible minute.

Saturday, I'd pedaled to the laundromat with a couple of loads of dirty's, then came home, chained up my bike (I don't have a lock, but I clip it to a post with a dog tie-out chain.) It's only a rusty old $5 bike, I figured it would be fine.

Wrong.

I came out to ride to work tonight, and found the bike unchained. I thought "gee, that was careless of me." Then, when I went to pedal off to work, I found it wouldn't pedal--apparently it was unchained, cos some creep decided to take it for a joy ride, and broke it. Bastard.

It was it's usual squeaky self on Saturday--yes, sometimes the gears slip, but not that much or that often--and sure as shootin' I would have noticed it the chain had slipped off! I have no clue how to slip the chain back on--it's so rusted, I'm not sure I can--but, next weekend I'll try to buy a can of WD-40 lubricant, borrow a screwdriver from someone (too bad the isn't a real Doctor Who or MacGyver in our neighbourhood). Damn. That bike's been a genuine godsend for my bad foot. I mean, the foot doesn't hurt to the point where it's totally unbearable--but, sometimes it gets a bit close to that point. And dang, I hate walking slow. My old walk wasn't pretty, but it used to cover a lot of ground...now...well, let's just say that sometimes I look like I should be in a bath chair, when I'm walking.

Work--meh. I don't know. I'm doing it, but I'm really slow and it's really hard for me to remember stuff--it's a lot of coding to remember (short hand), and a lot of steps to do, and toggling and stuff--all while you're talking to someone. My stinking dyscalculia is NOT liking this...so many people take multi-tasking for granted, but when one has a learning disability...it's so hard. You have to be very patient with yourself, and very self-aware...but it doesn't stop me from feeling stupid and flustered---tho' everyone around me has been so incredibly kind, it's taken me aback a little. Usually, they train us quickly and half-arsed, and then throw us to the wolves.

I had one guy though--what IS it with people from Minnesota that makes them such a bunch up uptight arseholes?

I can't really discuss any details of my job, and would never divulge the name of my employer or their clients. But, what my dept. is doing, is trying to make sure people who are trying to keep their homes, are sending in all the right things to the company. Basically, we're talking to people who went out of their way to ask us to assist them, and we ARE trying to help them.

So, I call this one total jerk in Minnesota, and--as per US Govt. LAW, I have to verify a person's address, before I can tell them why I am calling (because it's part of a debt collection process, even tho' we aren't actually collecting any funds).

Well, this berk refused to give me his address--snarky guy wouldn't speak to me unless I gave him the name of the person at the company he was dealing with. What-an-ass-hole! I'm calling him because he's missing some stuff he needs to keep from being FORECLOSED on, and he's being a total di_khead, and refusing to let me tell him that, all because he's being a big flipping massive mewling infant, and refusing to verify his address?

What DO they put in the water in Minnesota? Anus parts?

God, Americans are STUPID.

Oh, and if that wasn't bad enough, I got accosted by two Morman missionaries outside my flat tonight. I was polite and friendly, but told them I was agnostic. "I don't know what that means." One girl said. Yeah? Well, there's a public library five or six streets down, go look it up. Ditto to what I said above this paragraph.