understanding social problems

A second ago, I glanced at one of my book cases and of course this old text book, above named, caught my attention. Should I read it again? It's probably outdated and I'm quite sure none of those authors understand my problems.

Problem #1: I am so sick of my job. No longer do I find it fulfilling. In fact, everybody irks me to no end. I find myself making cynical "jokes" that even I don't bother laughing at. I'm not trying to be funny anymore.

Problem #2: Not that I'm desperate for a relationship or anything, but it just occurred to me that my main man happens to be Merriweather Lewis, as characterized by that most romantic of all writers, Stephen Ambrose. Talk about steamy.

Problem #3: I'm also sick of my job because I seem to do nothing but work. How about a vacation? Well, let's see here. I can afford to go maybe thirty miles. In that case, I could make it to one of our friendly local casinos, where I would promptly be relieved of my $20 "spending money." I'd be back to work within a day.

Problem #4: I suspect Merriweather Lewis has some sort of opium addiction, but we'll have to see about that.

Problem #5: FRANK loaned the Merriweather book to me. He thought I'd like it.

THE NERVE! USA Gas cashier fired after being robbed at gunpoint.

Time to boycott all USA Gas and anything remotely related to Tesoro Corp ( send the a-holes a nasty message here or call them! +1-210-828-8484 ). The most descriptive article I could find is at:
lodinews.com

excerpt:

Lodi gas station clerks fired after helping catch robbery suspects

By Layla Bohm
News-Sentinel Staff Writer

Cynthia Lopez, 31, had only been working at the USA Gas station for three weeks — her first foray back into the working world after staying home to raise her three children while her husband worked.

After the robber left, her first thought was to see if she could spot a get-away vehicle. Lopez did see a vehicle, as well as a license plate, which led Lodi police to arrest two convicted felons.

Lopez was shaken, but she went back to work the next day. She was listed as both a victim and a witness in the police report, and she knew she'd probably be called to testify in court at some point.

And then Lopez was fired from her job.

The reason: Her drawer, which was supposed to have no more than $50 in cash in it, was over by $16.

I hope everyone takes a minute to bug the hell out of them.

More bitching about people with kids

Lately I have noticed that I do not have the time to be everything to everyone. I am expected to do things for friends and family, but I wouldn't DARE try to tear someone away from their family to help me out.

The most irksome expectation by far, has got to be birthday and holiday gifts for friends' and family members' kids. WHY do they do this to those of us who are single? Do they think we don't have anything better to spend our time and money on? Surely some of this is my fault. I love babies, and of course would love to have one myself. If there were any suitable candidates for role as the father... but that doesn't mean I am IN LOVE with the baby. I suspect that some feel almost benevolent when they recount the story about how their kid pooped on the floor or how the kid ate dog food and they got a HILARIOUS picture of it, haven't I checked my email?

Speaking of email. Every week I receive five or six emails with photos attached. I never open them. I wait until someone asks me if I've seen the pictures, and say, "Oh, I haven't had a chance to look, are they cute? Tell me all about them." That way, I don't have to bother.

I am completely sick of spending money on other people's kids. I can't find a good way to break it to people that I no longer want to buy gifts for them. I'm the youngest, so I grew up expecting that my birthday would be celebrated on a large scale. But as my siblings had kids, all that went away. My friends, one by one, stopped recognizing my birthday once they had kids too. I just don't get it. I still recognize their birthdays. Why doesn't anyone recognize mine? I know that sounds bratty. Too bad. I know I'm not the only one who gets annoyed by this selfishness on behalf of one's offspring.

It sounds mean but it never ceases to amaze me how drastically someone changes when their first child is born. In the blink of an eye, they forget that they were merciless they were in their ridicule of other people who were deluded about how cute, intelligent, talented or well-behaved their children were. I find that I have nobody to chuckle with anymore. Most or all of my friends have become this parent-zombie.

Another PITA is when friends bring their kids along on shopping days. The husbands are never doing a damn thing except sitting around, fiddling in the garage. But oh no, can't leave the kids home with him! So we spend half the time bribing the kid to be good. Usually the idiotic mother (yes, my friend) plies the kid with sugary treats, which makes the kid act even worse. So the other half of the time is spent in the restroom going deaf while the kid screams bloody murder because he was asked not to play inside the racks of clothes with his sticky fingers and snot-drenched face.

I need to make new friends or have a kid. And from now on, I'm only going to buy gifts for single people with no kids.

New DNA evidence discovered in WM3 West Memphis Three case

From Channel K8 Jonesboro,West Memphis, AR - Will Carter Reports July 20
Mother of West Memphis 3 Victim Speaks About New DNA Evidence

"Back before anybody was a suspect in the case or anything, my first thought and theory was Terry Hobb, Tom Moore, and Mark Myers did it," said Pam Hobbs.

When Terry Hobbs was asked if he committed the murders he paused and then replied "I'd have to laugh at that and say there's something wrong with someone who would think that."

"When you watched his response, what did you read on his face when he answered that question," I asked Pam Hobbs. "What are you hiding? Why didn't you laugh if you wanted to. That was my thought when I first saw it," she replied.

Now only time can tell if the DNA evidence will lead to a new trial and a change in a case that's never seemed to completely close.

"It's still in God's hands. It's been there since May 5, 1993. I just continue to pray for the strength to accept what comes out of this," said Pam Hobbs.

With the new report out regarding the WM3 case, I just have to post my favorite clip of the documentary. Found it where else? On YouTube, thanks to mrprwac for posting it.

Byers is more comical than scary to me. I didn't know much of anything about the other stepfather, Terry Hobbs. Hopefully someone will pick the story up and investigate a bit more. But now, I give you the entertainment:

Clinton and Edwards are petrified of another debate with Kucinich

Dennis Kucinich better not put up with John Edwards and Hillary Clinton trying to muscle him out of presidential debates, as reported by Beth Fouhy of the Associated Press. See article at Breitbart

Kuchinich Lashes Out at Limiting Debates

...In an exchange captured on camera and open microphone by broadcasters after an NAACP forum in Detroit, Edwards approached Clinton onstage and whispered in her ear.

"We should try to have a more serious and a smaller group," Edwards said, and Clinton agreed.

"Our guys should talk," Clinton said, complaining the format had "trivialized" the discussion...

Wow, doesn't surprise me one bit.

Cooked and Basted! Timothy Armstead Throttles Dirtbag Bank Robber

My new superhero. Le Sigh!

As reported internationally, a would-be bank robber received a rather unpleasant surprise as he tried to make off with some stolen cash. Article everywhere but here's a link to the IHT report, Former US Marine waiting in bank nabe fire-extinguisher-wielding robbery suspect.

When the man then tried to walk out with the money, Armstead, 27, knocked him to the ground. He held the man down — lecturing him — until authorities arrived.

"I just told him it was a very stupid decision and now you get to spend 20 years of your life just for taking some money," Armstead told WSB-TV.

The man was taken to jail on suspicion of armed robbery.

Who knew Staples had cute guys?

I must be getting over the divorce. Today at Staples, a guy followed me around for awhile and struck up a conversation in the planners aisle. We chatted politely until he - gasp - asked me if I wanted to have lunch tomorrow!

I know why it all happened. First, I was high on life because my meeting a couple hours prior was such a smashing success, and Hindley (my nemesis) will be extremely disappointed to find out that she is no match for me. One of my pet projects is showing more promise than ever, and it is due to my hard work. AND it is despite what she and a couple others have done to sabotage it. Very immature, I know. In fact, someone stole my planner off my desk last week, but did it have any impact? No way. They don't know I write everything down in my desk planner, type it out in Google Calendar, then print it out at A5 size and pop it into my Franklin. So there, Hindley, take that too.

Anyway, I was probably smiling about all of it, so there's a chance I wasn't projecting myself to be a bitter spinster-type. Plus, I had on my favorite necklace. My lucky necklace. Also, when I sensed the cute guy looking at me, I didn't meet his gaze with a scowl, which I would usually do. I just had good feelings about most of the people there in the store with me. I was upset that I couldn't find the ink cartridge for my stupid printer, and spent forever over there looking for it. I saw Cute Guy walking past the ink aisle a couple times, with seemingly little direction.

After mulling over my choices at the planner section, I noticed Cute Guy stroll casually by. Then he backed up and picked a Dayrunner planner off the shelf. Hm. Leather and Dayrunner, I thought. Wouldn't work out. But Cute Guy replaced the Dayrunner. I continued to compare desk calendars, but Cute Guy just started talking. It was the most natural thing ever. He wasn't acting like a scared little 9th grader; he was confident and very laid-back. The opposite of me. So I thought that was great.

We stood around engrossed in conversation for an absurd amount of time. My phone rang. It was the office. I really did have to go. He suggested we talk more about South Mountain (and how people are trashing it) over lunch! I hesitated, and he said, "Well, at least give me your number?" I asked for his.

I don't know if I'll call him or not. But this is definitely progress for me.

Cute Guy was just my type, too, if I have one. Dark eyes and fair skin. Dark hair, although I don't mind light brown hair. Dressed casually. Don't know what he drives, but I'll bet it's a Jeep. Probably a couple years younger than me.

Want cheap, extensive health care coverage? Run for Congress.

These elected officials are enjoying yet one more perk that they deem unnecessary for many of their constituents. Check out this excerpt at AlterNet of Practicing Medicine Without a License, a new book by Don Sloan, M.D.

There is an employee/insurance deal in the U.S. that includes unlimited doctor office visits of your choosing; covers all accidents, routine exams, physical therapy, labs and X-rays; and the like; unlimited hospital visits and stays; certain chronic care and rehab; full prescription coverage; and unlimited specialty consultations. For the employee and the entire family. There are no deductibles, no co-pays, and only a $35 monthly fee taken from an annual salary of $158 though. Thirty-five dollars!

The group awarded this insurance looks forward to a full pension and continued coverage until their deaths. Quite a few, most in fact, were millionaires before they took on their jobs that got them such a perk. Who gets this coverage? It would be nice if it were the underprivileged or the chronically ill and debilitated or our veterans.

But no. For starters, the 535 members of the U.S. Congress, and add to that the few hundred in the upper executive and judicial branches of government. They are also members of a demographic group where seven were arrested for shoplifting, nineteen for writing bad checks, and eighty-four for drunk driving. This bunch also has an overrepresentation of felony indictments, and a few ended up serving time.

I'm off to find my own copy of this intriguing read.

Is therapy the key to true mental hygiene?

As I have mentioned before, but of course I wouldn't expect would be remembered, I have started to see a therapist. It all started when I seemed to have some rather serious memory problems at the job. My boss, being kindly and also responsible, gently suggested I "talk to someone" about my divorce. She thought for sure that I wasn't dealing with my divorce emotionally, since I didn't talk about it at work, I never took any time off, and I never had any of those midday breakdowns I've seen so many others succumb to.

I said, "Sorry, I'm fine, what can I say? You WANT me to have a nervous breakdown and try to get a month off work because my personal life isn't perfect? No thanks, I'm just handling it better than most people." I said. I really believed it, too. I thought I didn't need any therapy, and frankly, I still believe that people in general don't NEED it. But I guess she did have a point.

Anyway, my memory/concentration problems have plagued me for a couple of years and I know it is directly related to my reaction to stress. In particular, the stress that I put on myself for no good reason at all. I've done it my whole life, but the second I started having more stress than I could handle, my poor little pea brain most likely went into meltdown mode. Poor little pea brain!

So therapy. I started with some lady who diagnosed me with PTSD after 45 minutes of hearing my life's adventures. I knew for certain that
I would roll my eyes for an hour straight every week if I had to keep going there. So I decided that this therapy crap was not for me. Then I received my last employee review, which I found to be a very disagreeable experience. I don't want to spend one more hour of my life being a disappointment in any way to my boss, so I decided FINE, I'll find another stupid therapist. I feel so immature putting it that way, but it's the truth. I said to the referral service, "I don't care, just give me anybody."

Enter my new therapist, Marty. Marty has been a tremendous help. He makes me see things about myself that I never knew. For example, I strive to be perfect because I feel guilty. I'm a tree which does not get any nourishment. Or rather, I'm a tree whose roots are fed with the waters of guilt! I liked his metaphor, and elaborated, exclaiming, "A cesspool of guilt!"

"So, MH," purrs Marty. "What have you been feeling guilty about all these years?" I thought and thought. I came up with an answer, a pretty good one. Marty came up with a splendid personal affirmation in order for me to "give myself a break." And I tried for weeks to meditate. First I didn't do it correctly. I was not "meditating," according to Marty. I was "visualizing." Fine. Still, I have not been able to quiet my mind. It's always talking about something. Usually, I'm poking fun at myself. I find the state of myself hilarious, usually because I think of myself not as a person, but as a cartoon character like Wile E Coyote. Always jumping off the cliff with a damn stick of ACME dynamite in my hand and blinking confusedly after the explosion.

Then yesterday, I tried it all again. I had a breakthrough. I was actually able to pull off that meditation thing, and then I immediately remembered to dutifully pontificate about what a wonderful being I am. Sigh. It was great.

I began my day this morning in much the same manner. Slowly, I found myself saying the most out of character things. Instead of calling a collectively despised client a "F-er," I heard myself blurt, "Troubled young man we have here!" when a colleague came to me to confide that she was ready to rip his head off. My colleague blinked confusedly and was rendered speechless.

When I got home from work today, I was still on my little psychosomatic high. I thought I'd jot down a few words in my written journal, as directed by Marty to do. I had nothing. I realized that I didn't want to write anything because I didn't have anything inspirational or kind, or loving to say. I thumbed through the pages and pages from over the past year or so. A jeremiad of self disparagement and slanderous gossip, much like what is written in this online journal. I loved it all. I began to giggle and blush at my foibles and public humiliations, which have been many and varied.

What do I feel guilty about? I don't know. But I don't want to lose my ability to laugh or at least snort (silently, of course) at myself. Marty will not be pleased with this recent regression. We have hit a brick wall, perhaps. I am positive there was something very serious that he must have said, which presumably would have assisted me in averting this setback. If I could just remember what it was.

Dennis Kucinich nails Hillary Clinton's disingenuous attitude towards steelworkers

Sen. Hillary Clinton's Refusal to Answer Steelworkers' Questions Both Troubling and Revealing, Says Kucinich Campaign

What's up with this? Does Hillary Clinton think she has the nomination in the bag? Perhaps she thinks she doesn't need union support. Perhaps she finds it uncomfortable to discuss what a miserable hand NAFTA has dealt to the American worker.

And you thought only women knew how to use the back burner

No, dear reader. I have not been obsessing about or stalking Frank, who is referred to around here a little bit, admittedly. I have used him as a character to my friends who do not work with me, and yes, I have spent many hours thinking about how wonderful life would be *if* he weren't such a nerd, if he had more spine, if he had a better sense of humor, were a *tad* bit wicked (not in an unhygienic perverted way), if he were more enjoyable to be around. But alas, he is none of the above.

Around about March, Frank returned some books to me. He left them on my desk. I asked my brother what that's supposed to mean. He said, quite matter-of-factly, that Frank must have a new lady in his life. I laughed it off. Please. Nobody could put up with him. Right?

Fast Forward to several weeks ago, when Frank slyly mentioned his "friend," who he referred to as "her" and "she," leading me to suspect that he did, in fact have a lady friend. But, it's just his FRIEND, I reasoned. Otherwise he would have said, my GIRLFRIEND. Right?

Fast forward again to my birthday, which I hardly enjoy discussing, especially when I am charged with the unpleasant business of exposing one man's scheme. For weeks, I had plans with a good friend from the office (Agnes) to have dinner and a couple drinks after work that night. Day of, Frank approached me and wished me a happy day. I thanked him kindly and continued with my work, as I would be expected to do, since Frank has taken to largely ignoring poor old aging MH lately. But no, not this time. Frank said, "Have you decided where Agnes and I are going to take you for dinner tonight?" Of course I was dumbfounded. I replied that I wasn't aware that Frank wanted to come along, but he was absolutely welcome to do so, provided nobody try to "take me out." Frank chuckled. "Alright, then, we'll see you at 6:30."

Why, I wondered, was Frank suddenly being nice to me again? Did he finally forgive the New Years Eve disaster? Was he planning on introducing me to his "lady friend?" Why the hell would he invite her along? As per my new therapist's advice, I decided not to obsess about questions I couldn't possibly answer, and forgot about the whole thing.

Dinner time rolled around, and Agnes arrived. We all decided to try out a new Japanese restaurant, since Frank had already, as he put it- scoped it out- and there were "probably" some vegan selections. All I wanted was a beer, and thankfully it turns out that's exactly what I got! Over the course of our interesting dinner conversation, Agnes innocently questioned Frank about what he has been up to lately. He ho-hummed around while I sipped my beer and disinterestedly inspected the light fixture above the beer cooler. After getting nowhere, Agnes coyly said, "Oh. Frank! Oops! Didn't MH know about Erica? MH; didn't you know Frank had a girlfriend?" I smiled ever so nicely, and responded that I was happy to hear his good news. "Tell me all about her," I said, as politely as I could manage. Why not tell me? I'm only one year OLDER today, you know, one year CLOSER to barrenness and all. Just go ahead and tell me all about how you have found your perfect mate and you are planning a fall wedding because she's knocked up. Go for it.

But it turned out that Frank had news that was not so wonderful. His new love, it seemed, was not meant to be. Erica's dog peed on Frank's foot and Erica (being a psychologist) did not like his response. She thinks his communication style is all wrong.

Erica may have a point, there. And I like her dog, too.

Who needs friends when the money's good...

A new report from the Pew Global Attitudes Project seems to find that the world has little patience for our shenanigans.

Anti-Americanism: Deeper But Not Wider

It might have something to do with stuff like a series referred to in this post at Newscat's blog:Cheney Loves Fishing To Death.

Thought I'd post a little tribute to our future, thanks to stevemarxen07. Nobody Loves You When You're Down and Out.







So anyway.