Potentially controversial post. Be warned.

I'm well aware that not everyone is going to agree with me on the issue that I'm about to speak of; indeed, I expect some vehement anger to come forth, actually. But if there's one thing I have learned in the last year and a half, it's that I'm not going to be silenced just because my opinion is unpopular. So, with that said, I shall now continue my original train of thought.

On my Facebook feed today, I've noticed that everyone and sundry is recognizing Veteran's Day. "Thanks to everyone that's served, that continues to serve, we wouldn't have the freedoms we do without you, etc., etc., etc."

I know that I'm going to seem horribly anti-American for my sentiment here, and if you feel that way, I'm sorry that you're going to take it the wrong way. And you WILL take it the wrong way.

But... somehow I just can't seem to feel thankful for the fact that thousands of American soldiers have died overseas - for what? Seriously, for what? The right for our corrupted, greedy government to rape the Middle East of oil in the name of profit? So that we can fill our gas-guzzling cars and pollute the air even more than it already is? So that thousands, millions, of citizens in countries far away from Japan to Iraq could die in the name of an ideal, an ideal that in the end means nothing at all?

How about the soldiers in the armed forces that make little to nothing for their families? While the very people that they serve, their fat-cat bosses in the United States Congress, sit on their over-privileged asses and make six-figure salaries for their rest of their useless lives? Is THIS something to be thankful for?

Let's talk about the people coming home from Vietnam, in their wheelchairs, with their arms and legs blown off, now sitting on street corners homeless with cardboard signs begging for food, or going insane in mental hospitals because they have endless recurring nightmares of the innocent women and children they shot - "in the name of freedom". Yeah, how about that for a celebration?

Maybe before we toot our proverbial horns about being thankful on Veteran's Day for the people that have served this greedy, selfish country, we need to consider that these same people need decent food, housing, medical care and a standard of living that's just a bit more than a cardboard box under a highway.

How about THAT for thanking veterans, America? Think you can manage that?

Didn't think so.

A rocky start to the new year.

I won't beat around the bush with this entry - there's no point to it. Basically, I got into a rather violent confrontation with my mother this evening. What about, right? She started in again about how my brother was having monetary problems and she was sending him money, lalala. Now, I don't care that he's having money problems - aren't we all - but what I DID care about is that she just starts talking about him again. I don't care, I don't give a fuck, I don't want to know. This is what she always does. Every time I talk to her, she mentions him, and she always makes excuses for him no matter what bone-headed thing he does. So I told her what I thought, that he'd made some pretty bad decisions and maybe that was why he was having money problems. Like, say, having 9 cats. Having 9 cats equals a big fucking money drain! "Oh, they've had those cats. They were doing well once, would you get rid of those cats if you fell onto hard times?" Yes, I would, because that's a money drain. "Oh, no, you wouldn't!"

Uhh.... DON'T tell me what I would do. You obviously don't know me.

Then I proceeded to tell her that I wouldn't be so damned foolish as to have 9 cats in the first place. So then the huge question pops up... "Are you jealous of your brother?"

I said no, but you know what? Yeah, I fucking am. I'm jealous that he's gotten all of your love and attention and happiness over the years. I'm jealous that I've suffered from goddamn emotional abuse all of my life while apparently he gets off scot-free. Yeah, I'm fucking jealous. Sue me. Then she said that she's helped me out plenty (she has, I never fucking said she didn't) and that "he's had it hard, and I don't appreciate you criticizing my parenting decisions".

Anyway, that question prompted a furious lecture, to which I laid out everything I was thinking and everything that I'd told my therapist, including how his bullshit girlfriend fucking abused me while she was busy going out marching for peace and love and all of that crap. It was not a pleasant end to the conversation at all. I ended up hanging up on her, something that I have NEVER done. I screamed into the phone that I was busy, that I DIDN'T want to have this conversation (which I had actually warned her earlier not to pursue, which she didn't listen), and that I'm sick of hearing about my brother and don't want to hear anymore. Click.

And then I couldn't stop crying. I just couldn't stop crying, even through a warm shower and huddling up on the sofa in a fetal position. Happy new year to me, indeed.

I'm awake several hours later. I'm sitting here now and while I still feel raw, while there are still tears coming out of my eyes, I won't take it back. For once in my life, I was honest about how I feel. For once in my life, I told it like it is. If that means that she's mad, too bad. Let WonderSon come up here and take care of her for a change - not that he will, trust me. In that, he's like my father, not giving a fuck what his actions wrought, even if it's emotional destruction.

The really ironic thing about the whole situation is that I'm the one that made good. I'm the one that works their ass off at an odious, emotionally-draining job and doesn't ask for a goddamn thing. He's chronically unemployed and living in fucking "paradise" - only his paradise has now soured because my sister-in-law is in a wheelchair and can no longer work so "he's depressed". Awwww. So sorry, but you know what? It's an excuse. He has a goddamn degree from a culinary school, he can go to work at a restaurant somewhere - fuck, he could OPEN a restaurant. The excuse I got from my mother? "He's too old to do that, he can't stand long hours on his feet anymore."

AND I CAN??? I can stand on MY feet for 8 hours a day serving angry, drug-addicted criminals screaming epithets at me, but he can't stand on his feet for a little while cooking food? EXCUSE!!!!!

Yeah, look, I'm sorry for my sister-in-law, being disabled is hard and especially the way she is, but you know what? You take what you're given in life, no matter how little that is, and you do the best with what you have! You get out there and you WORK IT. My sister-in-law is in a wheelchair and has no control over her limbs - so fine, yeah, she's got an excuse. My brother has NO EXCUSE. NONE.

And I'm blue fucking pissed at my mother because she assumes that I'm ungrateful for the help she's given me. Yeah? I'm ungrateful? So how come I just bought her a fucking television set yesterday for Christmas/New Year's? After I had lunch with her the other day? We went to fucking Best Buy and I bought her a television, a nice flat-screen TV. I offered her a larger size TV than the one she bought, as a matter of fact. "I have the money, don't worry about it." Does this sound like I'm ungrateful for the help she's given me? DOES IT? Does my brother, Saint Kelly, have the wherewithal to buy her a TV set for the asking? Huh? I don't hear any fucking answer from the peanut gallery, so I guess the answer is no!

I am not going to put up with any more abuse. If this means she's mad at me and doesn't talk to me for a few days, so be it. She knows there isn't anyone else up here to take care of her needs and get to her instantly, so she's going to have to make it up to me somehow. And even if she doesn't - so what? It's a weight off of my shoulders.

It's time to start living for myself. I am DONE with this fucking guilt-trip bullshit. FUCKING. DONE.

An open letter to the people I serve at work.

I know that one of the conditions of your probation or parole is to give a urine sample for drugs. I also know that this is the last thing you want to be doing - I totally get that. Did you know that in the course of a day, I do little things for you all that help the process go by easier for you? I have an idea.. let's work together so that the process goes easier for both of us. Want to know how you can do that? Great.

Have a look at the following suggestions. Feel free to use one or all of them. I won't mind a bit.

1. Come in on time. That's right, it helps greatly when you all don't bum-rush us starting at 6:30 at night all the way up to closing time. We're open for 12 hours a day. Some of you don't have employment - so in truth you have no excuse whatsoever. We work hard and we like to go home to our families and friends at night, just like you do. If you do, however, decide to be rude and come in during the last 15 to 20 minutes we're open - don't expect a warm welcome or a big smile, because you won't get it. We're tired, and we want to leave. That leads us to suggestion #2...

2. Give your sample and leave. Don't engage us in conversation in the bathrooms. You're not supposed to be talking in there anyway, it's considered a distraction. And to be frank, we're not interested in what a bitch you think your parole officer is, or your complaints about how you have to do this every week/month. We didn't put you in the position you're in - you did. Don't blame us for your stupid actions. We also know you have friends out there in the waiting room - a sad thing in itself - but we don't appreciate the loud music or the cell phones blaring the latest 'gangsta' hit or the gossiping that you all seem to do while you're there. Your requirement is to pee and leave - that's it, thanks, no more is necessary.

3. Have some pride. Seriously, folks, this one isn't hard. When you're a child, you're taught to flush the toilet. Please do so. I take back over 200 people per day - that's a lot of urine. No one wants to see your offerings in the toilet when we come in there, okay? That's just trifling, if you want to put it bluntly. I don't want to see your piss, or your used tampons floating in the water, I don't want to see crumpled paper towels on the floor, I don't want to have to apologize to the next customer that comes in there with me because you couldn't clean up after your nasty self. Hygiene is a fucking basic - I don't care how many drugs you've done, you know better than to do that shit in your home, at least I hope you do. Don't do it here either.

4. Don't argue with me; you'll lose.
This one is simple. You're there because you're on probation or parole. You're there to serve your time and to pay for what you've done wrong. Therefore if I tell you that you need to do something - you do it. Period. No arguments, no whining, no bitching. I run the show here, not you. If I have people waiting in line to submit their samples, you don't get moved to the front of the line on a whim. If I need a new picture of you, you're going to do it - if you don't, you don't test, and you can explain that to your parole officer when you're sanctioned for not doing what you're supposed to. If you need paperwork for me to process you, you'll get that paper before I do one thing to your record. You don't get it? You don't test. That's it - no argument. This is your life I'm handling here - if you don't have enough respect for your own life, that's not my problem, but I'll be damned if I'm going to get into trouble for your stupidity.

5. Do something with your life. I see too many of you on a daily basis wasting away. Get out there and do something. Can't find a job? Go back to school, they're offering financial aid and Christ knows that you all qualify, I work for a living and can't get shit so you sure have no excuse. Take advantage of the help that we're offering you. Don't sit on your ass and do nothing all day, because that's called being a parasite - and I'll be damned if you're going to feed off of me. The drugs might be tempting, but look where it got your dumb ass - in here, giving me a urine sample in a filthy bathroom. How's that working for you?

Like I said... feel free to follow these suggestions. You might find that your life will improve greatly if you do. And for those that would ignore my advice... fine by me, but you'll be in my unit year after year after year giving me urine, so get comfy, you'll be in the system a long, long time.

'nuff said.

The hot weather has arrived... bleaugh.

I hate summer. Did I mention that last year? No? Then allow me to rectify my mistake, heh. I not only hate summer, I despise it. Disgusting humidity, stifling temperatures, stickiness and sweat. Blech.

Bill Hicks said it best in his routine on the 'Arizona Bay' album: "What are you, a fuckin' lizard?" Heh.

I've been doing a bit more planning for this cruise, and I can't deny that I'm honestly excited about taking the trip. I'm in the middle of planning land excursions - so far it looks like I'll be doing the Titanic graveyard/museum in Halifax, and the Salem Witch Museum in Boston, those ought to be really good. But mainly, I'm just interested in getting away from Baltimore and urine and stress, heh. It's not Sydney - I'd love to go back to Sydney - but it'll do. I'm happy with it. (Though as much as my mother's spending on this, I could have bought two plane tickets to Sydney. Jeee-sus.)

I'm losing weight like crazy. Most of my casual jeans don't fit anymore, and I've been hitching them up all week, heh. My T-shirts are getting baggier, too. I don't know what this Wellbutrin's doing to me, but I'm melting away, lol. I should be happy about that, but I'm curiously... apathetic. I guess it is a way to hide myself away from the world, and now that it's going away, I'm growing increasingly nervous. In any case, I need new clothes desperately, heh.

In time. Financial picture is not good at the moment. But I'll get through, I've always managed before and will do so again.

Otherwise, it's business as usual. I'm in a good mood, albeit kind of tired. I had a false alarm involving my mother's cat this morning - we thought she was very sick and needed to go to the vet - but it turned out that there was just another cat in the window and she was having a hissy fit. Eeesh - cats.

Until next time, cheers.

Things have picked up in the last couple of days, ack.

First of all, I will reiterate - Thursdays at the drug collection unit suck, bar none. Everyone in the place today either was screamed at by nearly incoherent, uneducated D.C. drug users, or were totally grossed out by their horribly nasty hygiene (or lack of!) habits. I was in the latter camp today, heh, and I'm not even sure if this could be considered a "good" thing.

WARNING: Do not read the next few sentences if you get ill easily or if you're eating. You've been warned.

One of the women I escorted today was ill with... let's say a little bit of a diarrhea problem. So what happens? Yes, ladies and gentlemen, you guessed it right - when she puts the cup between her thighs and lets go... a little of some very watery and NASTY smelling #2 went right into the cup with the #1. And guess who has to carry this foul concoction back to the storage area, sloshing about in the opaque plastic cup? If you guessed yours truly... you win the brand-new car.

Ugh, ugh, ugh, ugh. My federal job is not as "glamorous" as everyone thinks it is, heh.

END OF DISCLAIMER: You may now start reading/eating again, the rest of this post is safe, heh.

Anyhow, there's some good news on the horizon.

a.) I got a cost of living raise - while everyone else is struggling to hold on to their jobs or they're being laid off left and right... I'm actually making more money now than I ever have in my life. It's not much, but let me tell you what - it's a fuckload next to the guy that doesn't have a job anymore, so... my job might not be "glamorous", but Goddamn if I don't have a good-paying job... hell, a job, heh. I can't complain. Even if the above-mentioned scenario happens.

b.) I kin haf kitteh! Basically I'm one step from adopting a fabulous cat from the Feline Rescue Assocation - her picture is here. Her name's Dandy Lion, and I think I'm honestly going to keep the name - it smacks of slight cleverness. Lizzie from the FRA has been so lovely and gracious to me during this whole process. If you live in Maryland or thereabouts and you need a cat to warm your heart, feet and bed (and shouldn't everyone?), you should most definitely give the FRA a call - these are people that truly care about cats and their welfare and well-being. I can't wait to see her. :D

c.) I gave blood today, and let me tell you... my arm hurts like hell. But it's for a good cause. I have a rare blood type (antigen A, Rhesus negative, about 6-7% of the U.S. population has it) that's needed quite a bit, so that's more cause for "celebration", I suppose. Anyway, I got a thermal blanket and a couple of brownies out of the whole endeavor, heh, but I'd have done it for free. I know if I ever need a transfusion, it'll come back to me, you know what I mean?

d.) My computer is fixed once again - thanks so much, Ben (again, lol). Music stea... errr, acquiring shall be done this weekend.

e.) Tomorrow starts the weekend. Isn't that always a cause for celebration?

Things are beginning to pick up, for which I'm profoundly glad. We shall see what happens from here.

One note: my friend Kimberley's blog is now in the blogroll - read and enjoy. She has a fabulous layout. I wish I was that good. And more improvements are coming shortly.

Cheers.

Uhhh.....

....someone has way too much time on their hands.

WAY too much.

We're covering a few subjects tonight, boys and girls. Get ready!

'kay, first news of the day - my computer blew up. Let me explain, though - I have a little home network in my place of about... oh, I'll say three computers, my old desktop and two notebooks (soon to be three). Well, the desktop went kablooey - I lost power in the apartment yesterday afternoon sometime, and apparently the hard drive was in the process of writing a file - I think. In any case, it was off when I got home, and when I tried to boot it up this morning, it went to the XP screen... then rebooted. Over and over. A constant process. Whoo, am I pissed off - all of my music's on that computer, and if I have to start over yet again... grrrrr!!!....
Thankfully I have the notebooks, so I've not lost Internet access. But this came at a time where I just didn't need more complications. I could afford a new computer, but it would be a struggle right now, financially. We'll see. I'm currently attempting to 'repair' it, but whether it works or not, who can say.

Second news of the day - WARNING: this is nasty - if you're eating, you may want to skip this part of the entry, because you will get sick, I guarantee it - I made a caustic comment on my Facebook about how some people that I serve at work need to learn what a shower is, heh. I promised that I would explain that in detail - some of you know the story already, but this is so bad that I think I need to reiterate it.

Yesterday was Thursday, our 'busiest' day of the week, and I was escorting females back and forth to get their samples. So I take this one lady back, and there was nothing, nothing, nothing to indicate that there was anything 'wrong', okay. I take her back and do my usual routine, stand in the corner and wait with the cup, blah blah.... so she lifts her dress up, right... I hand her the cup....

Here it comes...

... I swear to Christ, ladies and gentlemen, the smell that came from between this woman's legs was enough to nearly make me faint. Imagine the smell of rotten fish... now imagine it magnified 100 times. That's what I smelled. I swear... it took everything I had not to vomit then and there.

Look, my job is simple - take urine. I understand that it's not glamorous, the clientele that I deal with aren't the most educated or the most lucky people in the world - and I know they've had it rough, fighting drug addiction. But for fuck's sake, if you let yourself get THAT bad that you can't learn simple hygiene - soap and water and a washcloth between your legs... well, fuck me running, but that's just nasty as shit. It really is.

That's Thursday at the drug sample collection department, heh. Lucky me, huh?

Third news of the day, I work tomorrow. First Saturday of my 4 a year. I have no idea of what it's going to be like, heh. I do know that I have to be up at 4:30 in the morning, though, and that's going to suck royally. I just hope it's not busy. I'm also working with people I've never seen before, so who knows what it'll be like, meh. We'll see.

Other than this, there's not really much going on. I had today off because I work tomorrow... that was sort of nice. I overslept until 3pm, though, which isn't cool... means I won't get shit for sleep tonight. But, eh.

Probably another post in a bit, I'm going to start doing those memes again. I've been slacking off on those but I've honestly had no time.

End of rambling thoughts. :p