I always thought the double slit experiment was wrong

March 22, 2019

I’m wondering if the mistaken assumption that the speed of light is constant means the double slit experiment is wrong. You open a gate for a minute, thinking that only one car is driving slowly through the gate, but then a dozen cars got through at high speed while the gate was open, going through both slits and causing an interference pattern, leading millions of people to believe that one car went through both slits.

Variable speed of light in a vacuum

March 22, 2019

I’m too tired to read. There is such a thing as the hypothesis that lightspeed is variable, and, scientists think the speed of light has slowed.



Variable speed of light in a vacuum

March 22, 2019

I’m too tired to read. There is such a thing as the hypothesis that lightspeed is variable, and, scientists think the speed of light has slowed.



Why can’t it just be blue???!!!

March 22, 2019

My brain exploded, and I’m too exhausted to process what I was trying to read. Why is "Doppler Blue" necessary? Why not just light that’s really blue? How is Doppler Blue different from Real Blue? The light isn’t really blue, it just looks blue to an approaching atom, who gets tricked into thinking it’s real blue, and emits a photon. I DON’T UNDERSTAND and I’m too tired to think anymore.

That sounds like the emdrive

March 22, 2019

I need to go to bed.

The emdrive had to overcome a problem involving the Doppler effect. Something inside it created a Doppler effect that was messing up the results.

I wonder if Doppler cooling or laser cooling is used for weather modification?

March 22, 2019

David Wilcock mentioned in a video not long ago that microwaves heated up the atmosphere, causing a high pressure air mass. I remembered my meteorology class said that heated air is lower pressure, not higher. So a warm, low pressure air mass sucks in the surrounding air, which comes from cold, dense masses.

This just now reminded me of my question a few months ago about frequency and wavelength, where the whole wave might move at a faster speed, so that a long wavelength might be the same frequency, to an observer standing still. The observer would see long objects passing by quickly, which results in the same frequency as short objects passing by slowly. This presumes that the speed of the waves is variable, not constant.

Anyway, a google search got an answer about whether there are microwaves able to cool things down. https://www.quora.com/If-a-microwave-can-be-used-to-heat-why-is-there-no-similar-concept-to-cool-a-space-using-wave-emissions

That page won’t let me highlight and copy.

I wonder if Doppler cooling or laser cooling is used for weather modification?

March 22, 2019

David Wilcock mentioned in a video not long ago that microwaves heated up the atmosphere, causing a high pressure air mass. I remembered my meteorology class said that heated air is lower pressure, not higher. So a warm, low pressure air mass sucks in the surrounding air, which comes from cold, dense masses.

This just now reminded me of my question a few months ago about frequency and wavelength, where the whole wave might move at a faster speed, so that a long wavelength might be the same frequency, to an observer standing still. The observer would see long objects passing by quickly, which results in the same frequency as short objects passing by slowly. This presumes that the speed of the waves is variable, not constant.

Anyway, a google search got an answer about whether there are microwaves able to cool things down. https://www.quora.com/If-a-microwave-can-be-used-to-heat-why-is-there-no-similar-concept-to-cool-a-space-using-wave-emissions

That page won’t let me highlight and copy.

Elizabeth Warren’s universal child care

March 22, 2019

For some reason, Elizabeth Warren caught my attention a few months ago, and I’ve been occasionally reading about what she’s doing. She’s an ESTJ running for president.

Holy crap, this URL is huge. This link might not even work.

https://medium.com/@teamwarren/my-plan-for-universal-child-care-762535e6c20a?subsource=GS-67803829336-elizabeth warren 2020-b-335493276631&gclid=CjwKCAjw7MzkBRAGEiwAkOXexJNh9CpWCuQS770mKp8kkzghTX-2OCiX9g_IX8zgKSF_zYcq1o_iZBoC4bwQAvD_BwE&refcode=WFP2019-LB-GS-NY&refcode2=GS-67803829336-elizabeth warren 2020-b-335493276631

Anyway, this interests me – it ties in with my vision of an intentional community and religion. Childcare is so impossible, it’s forcing people to just not have children. This is a manifestation of the depopulation program: devise all of society in such a way that the cost of living is so impossibly high, no one can afford to have children. All of the various factors in society conspire together to make this happen, and they all do it anonymously, from afar, as a group, an oligarchy, with the individual members just being employees who have no personal control over the big picture. Every economic factor ties in with these depopulation forces: the high price of land and rent, the fact that you can no longer deposit money into a savings account and earn interest faster than inflation, economic bubbles resulting in huge money losses and job layoffs, and other things.

This discussion of anxiety is making me laugh

March 22, 2019

I did get some more info filled out.

I’m reading a discussion of someone with anxiety over grant applications – possibly Alpha INTJ.



  • Build up tolerance by repeated attempts – I have gone through the proposal writing process quite a few times, but the experience doesn’t appear to have made it any easier. I feel like even if I had been awarded a thousand grants, I would still say to myself, "Man, you may have had a good run in your day, but this time you’ve lost it – this is the stupidest idea you’ve ever had".

That made me laugh a lot. Then a commenter said:

"The second [method] was to read a few granted proposals in my field. There are an awful lot of funded studies that just don’t appear at all promising. And the feeling of ‘well, I suck, but less than the people who put together grant XYZ’ is strangely empowering."

Again this is hilarious. I have to imagine what kind of ridiculous grant proposals have been written, and the humans who wrote them.

Fear of lying, fear of lack of potential, fear of not telling the whole story

March 22, 2019

I have to write, in about five words or less, why I left each job. But that’s not an explanation! It’s always a long story. The short version of the story results in what amounts to a lie or a coverup. Why did you leave McDonald’s? "Sick." That’s what I wrote. But how did being "sick" NECESSITATE leaving and never going back? Surely, if you’re sick at McD, you’re sick everywhere else, right? Why would "sick" necessitate taking time off, then getting a new job elsewhere instead of going back?

I have to convince these people that I have value, I have potential. "Value" and "potential" sound like they sum up my socionic weak functions – feelings and intuition. I am good, I am worthwhile, I can be useful for something, I won’t have negative potentials to harm you. I have to strongly assert all of that.

Oh, and also, my eventual quitting isn’t inevitable! It’s obvious that I have been through several jobs over the years, and left for random reasons after a period of months. Surely I’ll do that again here, so why even bother hiring me?

A good record would show that I worked at a job for a whole decade, then left it to seek a better job, or something. Surely, some scenario is less frowned upon than mine, which is "I’ve hated almost every shitty, meaningless, low-paying job I’ve ever worked at, and I hated some more or less than others (I liked McD a lot, especially when its previous franchise owners were still there, and their name won’t come to me, but back in, what, 2004? when I started, another family owned it, who then went on to make "Fun Unleashed." The Somebodies. Everyone knew their name.), and inevitably, I will hate your job too, it’s just a question of what exact details I will hate, and when and why."

If I didn’t have chronic fatigue, I might not hate all jobs quite so much. It causes physical pain to work, but it’s not intolerable, and it’s not recognized as a legitimate disability that you can get disability payments for.

I can’t assert my own value to them, nor can I promise I won’t quit from a fatigue attack, or that I won’t hate the job, or that I won’t leave after a few months. I can’t promise anything. And it’s much, much harder to fill out paperwork for the temp agencies, even though a temp job might be ideal for me right now. Temp agency paperwork is always much longer.

How do I explain why I quit? Why can’t we just hire people with no paperwork at first?

March 22, 2019

This is always one of the worst questions. Why did you leave this job? I’m applying for a job where pesticides might be used, the flower nursery. I quit McD because they began using a pesticide indoors that made me so deathly ill I couldn’t even remain standing. How do I explain that the way they use pesticides in a greenhouse is probably different from what happened at McD, and I won’t react as badly? He’s gonna think to himself that the same thing will happen, and he won’t even hire me.

I’m serious about hiring people without paperwork. There could be a walk in hiring method, where new people can work as soon as they’re able to, but we just babyproof the store and don’t let them do anything like use the cash register. What are they afraid of? Thieves? Villains? Murderers? Paperwork can be done eventually, but not before we’ve gotten to know them a little bit.

This is extremely discriminatory against people with this paperwork phobia, who are perfectly good employees.

Waiting, and unable to stop waiting; parasites adding to fatigue

March 22, 2019

I got three people to say yes to being references, but now I have to make sure I have their phone numbers. I might have the right number for one, but not for the other. I’ve got Steve’s number.

Caffeine isn’t working, and I have an annoying parasitic infection, which I’m hoping will go away on its own. I’m not sure where I got it from, but it usually takes a couple weeks, so it might be from the salmon jerky that made me sick on my trip back, or from the other appallingly bad jerky that I never mentioned, which was locally made and sold at a small gas station. It was so bad, I nearly vomited after one bite, so I got rid of it. (I’ve said this before: small local producers aren’t always good quality, sometimes are very bad, and usually aren’t organic or anything special. So I’m not a huge proponent of "Local food, just because it’s local." Local is great – if it’s better quality or more organic or offers alternative varieties.) Either of those could be where I got parasites.

I also drank some of the tap water from my hydrant here, which is brown – it has mud or rust in it. I filtered it, but maybe not well enough. I didn’t boil it. I never drink it, but I was desperate.

The parasites gave me wiggling sensations in my abdomen, which were so bad they could be felt from the outside, if someone else had touched it, like a doctor, who would surely tell me it was imaginary and tell me I was doing that somehow with my muscles. I’m not a person who freaks out over parasites, I just am cautious about not getting the really dangerous ones. But they do cause a problem of making me very tired, and I’m already tired enough.

The wiggling and thumping has calmed down today – maybe they are settling in and behaving, or maybe they’re dying. I just can’t afford to be more exhausted right now. Some parasites sound pretty horrifying – guinea worms, for example. But the mild parasites that I’ve gotten over the years have gone away, or subsided and become unnoticeable.

The one time when I did something and was amazed that it worked was when I got persistent diarrhea after wading around in some water by a dam in a park. I didn’t know if it was giardiasis – it didn’t seem that bad, but it wouldn’t go away. I merely chewed on a small amount of pawpaw twigs, and it went away. I have no strong pawpaw twigs now – I chewed one, but it was many months old and lost its essence. A freshly picked one would work better.

I’m waiting till Monday, the day when I’m dropping off the truck to be looked at. I don’t have a lot of money. The anxiety I feel when filling out applications is totally irrational. I can’t even explain it, if you try to ask why I’m so anxious. Each tiny step, every line, causes unbearable terror. Dad told me I should just go back to Minit Mart. I read someplace recently, "If you want advice, ask for money. If you want money, ask for advice." I asked Dad for money. So he gave me advice. But it’s not even safe to work at Minit Mart until the truck is fixed. That’s a long drive every day. I was trying to get jobs closer to where I am now.

The weather in Yukon isn’t too bad!

March 21, 2019

I have a few odd locations in my weather app now. There’s a limit to how many locations you can add, which happened when I crossed the country and just added a new town every time I wanted to know. I’ve had Seattle, and then Tacoma, for a while. But today, Whitehorse, Yukon, is gonna be nice. In the fifties. That’s warmer than it’ll be in Bellefonte, PA! Whitehorse has fifties scheduled for all this week.

I will, someday, I solemnly swear, if I can survive long enough and get the money, visit the Arctic north and explore up there – even if it’s only a quick trip like my Washington road trip. By god, I will ride a dog sled. You can do that in Minnesota. Jesse and I looked at a "Things To Do" type of magazine at a hotel, and dogsledding was a thing.

Yes, I will also try boats, when I get a chance. That’s a whole new universe. And Dad will go on a boat too. He’s wanted to for a long time.

Personal references

March 21, 2019

One of the biggest obstacles on the job applications was my personal references. They usually ask for three. It is absolute torture for me to try to think of three people I know. I have friends who I hardly ever talk to, and I asked three of them this morning. Steve I talked to on the phone, and the other two I asked on facebook. Eric of the bakery, I didn’t ask you because I don’t want them calling you when you’re sleeping.

I have sometimes used names of my informal landlords and ladies, like Mary Jo, or Mike, but both of those people sort of semi-evicted me. I could use Jody, but she’s out of town right now, although she told me she’s on her way back. Actually, Joe, another previous landlord, also sort of evicted me too. I’ve had horrible experiences with apartments and rentals for years and years, and those people were references on my job applications when we were still on good terms.

I pretty much have no friends, and don’t really want any. It’s hard to explain. I do have a few friends who I hardly ever see or speak to, who live around in State College. But I just don’t enjoy socializing. I might, if I were in a group and we had something interesting to talk about.

I signed up for all these meetup groups, then didn’t go, partly because I tried doing yoga at the house in WV when I could watch a yoga show on youtube in the family room, and I found out what I already knew, and what another blogger reinforced: exercise DOES NOT help chronic fatigue syndrome, it makes it worse. There is a mistaken belief among doctors that all you have to do is some gradual, gentle exercise, and work your way up, but chronic fatigue syndrome doesn’t work that way. That’s like telling a Type 1 diabetic that all they have to do to cure their diabetes is gradually get used to eating a little bit more sugar over time. Their body is destroying the islets of Langerhans, or whatever those things are (I should google it), so they can’t make insulin.

Chronic fatigue syndrome is a real disease, a metabolic disease, not merely a phobic fear of exercise, which some doctors think it is. It is a real, genuine inability to use aerobic respiration. Chronic fatigue sufferers use anaerobic respiration instead. Then, they burn up all the glycogen or whatever it is, and it takes days and days to restore that supply.

Anyway, YOGA IS NOT AN OPTION for me! I tried it. Even gentle yoga made me feel like I had been run over by a truck, for days. So yoga meetup groups are not going to happen.

A couple more small chores done

March 20, 2019

I got four bags of trash out, but I’m not done yet. I have big cardboard boxes that I use as trash cans, and all were overflowing, because I’ve been buying food from fast food places and stuff. I’m buying food with more packaging, like microwave meals. I still have to empty the fridge, which I never finished before going to Washington. I have food that’s months old and inedible. I will compost it outside. It will vanish mysteriously over the hill into the woods, and no one will ever know (unless they see me dumping it).

And! I managed to call the campground and tell them my hydrant is broken. I left a message. I talked to one of the other girls, and I keep forgetting her name, which is very rude of me, and I feel like I’ve asked several times, once to her directly, and once to someone else. I’m gonna have to write it down. Anyway, the other day she talked to me about a piece of mail I got, which was delivered here, long story, not important. She was nice, and I don’t mind dealing with her.

So, if she’s the one I talk to, great.

I just wasn’t able to remove the broken piece from the hydrant. I kept buying new tools, and none of them could do it, and then I ran out of money.

A slight, temporary caffeine reduction

March 20, 2019

I have taken a vivarin, but I postponed it for many hours. I took yesterday’s pot of coffee and mixed it into a gallon jug of water, then drank diluted watercoffee this morning. I’m already noticing the return of pain and fear. But just a brief, slight withdrawal gave my body more rest today. Drinking extremely diluted coffee eases withdrawal, while also hydrating you. Caffeine is very diuretic. The watercoffee still has enough caffeine in it to have very weak caffeine effects, but the water is rehydrating you at the same time.

I cleaned a couple small things in the house. This may depend on having warmer weather, too. I would benefit from going where it’s warm because my whole body is in pain when it’s cold, and somehow, even having the heat cranked up to 85 inside my house doesn’t work. If the outside is cold, I can’t function.

Cleaning the house happens more easily if I get more rest and withdraw from caffeine somewhat.

A few lines have been filled out on one piece of paper; a dream this morning

March 19, 2019

I actually felt that paperwork wasn’t as much of a torture whenever I was fully caffeine free a couple years ago. I was more relaxed while filling it out. I have been constantly using the strongest caffeine so it doesn’t even work anymore. Just this morning, I took a Vivarin to help me get back to sleep, and I’m not even kidding. I woke up (was forced awake), then took a Vivarin to calm my anxiety, and went back to sleep. Caffeine withdrawal causes extreme anxiety, which goes away if only you persist in quitting. My anxiety is worse because I have real things to be anxious about.

I have been coping with anxiety by numbing myself with caffeine, and playing video games all day long. I’m going to get an unknown amount of money from Dad, which I requested to help me fix the car. Just asking for help at all is the biggest barrier for me.

I was able to fill out a few lines of one application on paper. I did the easy stuff, like my name. There are other sections that are much more painful. Every time I lose a job it is extremely painful, and it has to be explained to the next employer.

I had a dream when I went back to sleep. I think I was in college, but it represented the time a few months ago when I was doing things like visiting local wetlands to look for native plants. In 2018, we had huge floods in PA. I forget exactly when I did this, but I was at a park, and I stepped into the edge of a flooded creek to look at something. I slipped and fell in and could’ve drowned, but I got back out. It was terrifying and traumatic and humiliating. Anytime I almost die, it’s humiliating, my stupidity, like the Darwin Award, too stupid to live.

In the dream, I was "in college," as I said, the learning period. There was a huge flood outside the college, just on the college grounds, and hundreds of students were walking near it or through it, like there was a bridge to another section of the college that they had to cross there. But the flood water was still and motionless, not a raging creek.

I waded into it and went swimming, but I was worried about my cell phone and keys in my pants pocket. That actually almost happened in real life, as I did find an area near that same marsh in the park with calm water that I could’ve swum through, but in the dream it was a huge area of water in an open field.

I don’t remember what else happened around that part of the dream. I love swimming, and it’s the only exercise I can do with my two broken hips – my right hip was okay-ish, but it has recently gotten worse because when I slept in my car, I slept in positions that forced my legs into unnatural angles, putting pressure on the hip from the wrong way. My left hip is already pretty bad, and has been for a few years. So both hip joints are gradually becoming dislocated, because of permanent bone loss – just like with tooth cavities, it doesn’t regrow once it’s gone, despite what a lot of Weston Price followers say. Bones can somewhat regrow on the inside in a completely sealed space, but they can’t regenerate a lost portion of the bone if it’s on the outside – hard to explain – although they say lost fingertips can regenerate.

Later in the dream, some people were getting into my house. (That also happened in real life a few months ago – this all comes from what I have on facebook.) In the dream, there was a female scientist wearing a white lab coat. She was experimenting on the cats. Another person was with her, I think a male, but I didn’t notice what he looked like.

In the dream, I "left the door open," and so it was "my fault" that these people came in and messed with things, but in reality, I disagree – no one is entitled to walk into my house even if the door is open, then deliberately mess things up for the purpose of saying "I was here, and I want you to know." A quiet, unoffensive ninja can sneak in and out without having any impact or changing anything, and if ninjas were sneaking into my house and leaving no trace and doing no harm, it wouldn’t be so bad – exactly like me if I go into the woods and see a "no trespassing" sign. I’m not harming the woods and I’m not deliberately harassing or taunting the owners, I’m not throwing garbage down, starting forest fires, throwing parties, or whatever. It was the fact that the intruders traumatized the cat and deliberately moved things around that bothered me more than the mere fact that they were there. Morons who spy on people and invade their houses, then harass the person by saying "I SEE YOU! I’M AWESOME! I WAS HERE!" are retarded and annoying, and they make me angry much more than afraid.

In the dream, I actually *saw* the people in my house. I woke up from sleep, and they were there while I was sleeping. I wasn’t supposed to wake up, and it surprised them. This resembles a scenario that "they" are doing every day, except it seems more like roleplaying than truth – someone writes a fake dream script for me, and then somebody wakes me up and talks to me in my head, and suggests or implies that they rescued me from a bad dream that someone else was giving me.

I have no way to investigate which information came to me from where, because I don’t have scientific instruments able to detect psychotronic weapon attacks and determine the location the signal is coming from, so I cannot know who is who. Anyone who claims to be a certain person or claims to have done a certain thing cannot just simply be believed. When a voice in your head says it’s Jesus, you can’t just assume it really is Jesus. (I’m not very fond of Jesus, as he seems like a real asshole when I actually read the bible.)

The surprised scientist woman looked at me when I sat up in bed and saw her. I think that’s how it happened. I was like, "Ha ha, I caught you doing something bad," and she was ashamed. Except her facial expression was blank. She didn’t outwardly look ashamed. She looked like she thought she was entitled to be in my house, doing what she was doing, and experimenting on my cats. Almost like, "Who are YOU?", like I’m the intruder, not her. I’m the owner of this house! It’s you who doesn’t belong in here! But none of this was said out loud. It was all unsaid as she looked in my eyes.

She left, and I think I tried to chase her, but something slowed me down, like maybe all the floodwaters, which I couldn’t wade through fast enough. I couldn’t track her down, I couldn’t see any footprints, I couldn’t see where she had gone. Sadly, that is all too real – it’s very, very hard to track down exactly who it is that is attacking you with a psychotronic weapon, and hard to get evidence to prove it.

I went back in, and I wasn’t at my trailer, I think I was at the house in WV, because we had stairs. Peeper was on the stairs. I called the kitten "Button," originally (I think it was a suggestion, and it might mean somebody "pushed buttons" to force her to crawl up under a car at the farm in Hardin, Montana, where she was born, then get out at McDonald’s at the exact time when I would be there), and started calling her "Peeper," "Peepers," or "Peeps," because she has some kind of nasal deformity or chronic stuffiness, so she can barely breathe and makes a peeping, wheezing sound. She has minor deformities that are similar to what Weston Price saw, which I believe are more strongly caused by exposure to farm chemicals like pesticides, and less strongly caused by poor nutrition. Her eartips are sort of wrinkled, and the skin there is hard and dry, but they might’ve been frostbitten, and we’ll see if they heal. The very tip of her tail is narrow and has a small lump or bent piece, just a tiny bit. Ear and tail deformities do happen, with various causes, and I usually ignore the possibility of genetic causes because you can’t control that as easily. I focus on preventable, environmental causes.

In the dream, Peeper was on the stairs, and I found her with all these weird plastic collars almost embedded into her neck. I’m offended by the tagging and collaring of wild animals for radio tracking. This reminded me of that. I tried removing this black plastic collar, with plastic lumps pointing into her neck, but it was somehow pasted on, not even going all the way around the neck. It was sort of a moon shaped object on the back of her neck. There were wires and other electronic gadgets hanging off of it somehow. I don’t know if I interrupted them before they were finished installing this thing, or what.

I don’t remember the transition, but then, I was ululating, like Tarzan, "Uyuyuyuyuyuyuy," like crying, or yodeling, singing. I was crying and singing as loudly as I could, in this way, and screaming, but all of it was this ululating sound. I probably didn’t make the noise in real life while sleeping. It felt like I was, but usually the sounds I make are less than they were in the dream. In college, in real life, I tape recorded myself sleeping to see if I snored or talked. I didn’t actually make a whole lot of sounds. (Drinking tea triggered sleep talking, though.) If I screamed out loud as much as I do in my dreams, neighbors would be routinely calling the police.

So then, Jacob the cat walked over to me and chirped, his little "Brr" sound, and I was forced awake, but I’m not even sure if Jacob really did that or not.

I got ONE application filled out yesterday

March 17, 2019

The truck is barely working, but still able to drive, at this point. I’m not in a city, so I absolutely must have a car to go to a job, unless a local farmer hires me.

I got one application done yesterday. It was online. It was for a place where I had personally seen that they desperately needed help. I drove to a nearby truck stop to take a shower, and the girl behind the counter was exhausted and confused because she was doing two shifts in a row, a sign they don’t have enough people, no one to call to replace someone. So I applied at that place.

The website requested a resume along with it, but I’m not making a resume for a truck stop cashier job. So I had barely any lines to fill out, since it expected all the details to be on the resume I didn’t send. If they refuse to call me for that reason, fine. I’m just warming up and practicing.

I found my file on my laptop where I have a record of my past jobs, so I can fill out applications now. It has the dates I worked, the addresses and phone numbers, and the managers’ names.

I also sent Dad a text message where I miserably asked him if he could send me any money, so that I could get the truck looked at while I’m applying for jobs. He didn’t answer, so I don’t even know if he got it.

I read online about the main engine problem I’m having, which is misfiring. It turns out that an entire group of Ford trucks from various years all have this problem! I was right about "blaming Ford," the whole company, and right about remembering how Dad relied on Consumer Reports.

I did a few web searches and I found some lists of cars that still have manual crank windows – I hate electric windows – and manual gearshifts. They exist. I need a truck or other vehicle able to tow my trailer in the future, and I don’t want Fords. Mr. Ford might have done a great job while he was alive, but he’s gone now. The company has his name, but it means nothing, even if his descendents might work there. Toyota being handed over to Toyota’s son wasn’t quite as bad, and also that didn’t happen too long ago.

I have this persistent feeling of misery right now. It will slightly get better when I actually do get a job, when the process of applying for jobs is over, but then, a new misery will begin, the misery of the work itself.

My entire life will be vaporized in an instant, as I will no longer have a single moment of free time, or energy left to do anything, due to chronic fatigue. I also won’t be earning much money, either. Being absolutely miserable at work might be worth it if you’re actually earning tons of money, but no, I’ll be earning a tiny pittance.

Months will go by like this, huge chunks of time will disappear, as I do nothing but work at a job or jobs, while sacrificing everything and everyone else.

I had meant to go back to WV to help Dad clean up the house, but I won’t be able to do that while working. I’ll have to request a limited period of time off. My truck shouldn’t be driven long distances.

I have no idea how I will get to work if my truck catastrophically dies during this moment when I have no money and no job while stranded in a rural area far away from all the businesses I’m working at. I could not tolerate urban life, as every moment in Tacoma was endless, nonstop noise.

I was reading about road noise. While electric cars would get rid of exhaust pollution, which is nice, and they would get rid of the engine noise from slow moving traffic jams, they would not get rid of the swishing noises from tires touching the road, or wind noise blowing over the cars (I don’t know if the wind noise is significant). They distinguished "road noise" from "tire noise," and the way I understand that is, some kinds of road surfaces make all the cars simultaneously noisier or quieter, depending on what material the road is made of, and some kinds of tire tread designs or materials make a specific car’s tires noisier than others. That was explained in the article.

I want an electric car or hybrid, but the only hybrid able to tow a trailer was, unfortunately, a Ford. The others listed were said to be not strong enough to tow. That’s if I recall correctly. I don’t know about converted electric cars done individually, as opposed to the official brands of electric cars, but basically they said electric cars couldn’t tow heavy loads.

I also want a small electric scooter or bike able to drive a long enough distance that I could actually go somewhere from this campground. I have a hastily purchased scooter whose design I don’t like much, which can’t go far enough. Eric from McD made lots of electric bikes and gas powered motorized bikes. I just don’t have a workshop, and my house is too messy to build anything in here. I know I’m perfectly capable of learning what he learned and making my own motorized bikes, but I cannot walk over a bike lying on the floor in my trailer with lots of loose screws rolling into the ventilation shafts and underneath things.

There is too much stuff in here, and none of it is organized. I have a hundred unfinished projects. I’m too desperate for a job right now to be able to spend any time organizing or making room.

I will get a job, soon, and will be able to pay off the credit cards I used to go to Washington, and fix the truck enough that it’s no longer near catastrophic destruction. I don’t want to talk about it, but after I had it looked at by the Ford dealership, it was making a new and different noise, which turned out to be because they had somehow put it together so that this spinning pulley and belt was drilling into a piece of metal. It was the belt that connects to the alternator to produce electricity.

I also don’t want to talk about how horrible it was when it broke down in Morris, IL, and I had it towed off the exit ramp where it stopped, and how I dragged the heavy cat cage out of the truck, in freezing weather, and set it in the grass on a hill with a blanket over it, so that the cats wouldn’t die if a truck hit my truck from behind. I couldn’t restart it and couldn’t move it. I tried putting it in neutral and going backwards downhill, but it wasn’t turning fast enough and was simply putting me closer to danger. Finally when the police came after I called 911, they pushed me uphill in neutral so I’d be out of the way. I was wearing a bright neon yellow jacket with silver reflector lines, which I bought in, I think, Montana, in the spirit of a yellow vest protest. I stood outside and waved at the traffic to go past me. My hazard flashers were covered in road salt, and you could barely see them flashing in the daytime. Inattentive people, including huge trucks, were driving up the ramp JUST ASSUMING I would move, then screeching to a stop and going around me. That’s why I got myself and the cats out of the car, but there were a few shameful, horrible minutes of stupidity where I hadn’t yet decided to do that, I just stupidly sat inside the car, calling 911, and praying no one rear ended me. Fortunately, I was high enough uphill on the exit ramp that people were slowing down by then.

It wouldn’t restart because the battery was dead, and the battery was dead because the spinning pulley was drilling into the metal cover of the engine, thanks to the nice folks at the Ford dealership. So the spinning pulley became unable to recharge the battery. That’s what the mechanic in Morris figured out, and he fixed it enough that I could drive it home. It still stalls, due to the spark plugs being repeatedly destroyed by misfiring (online forums say all of them have the same problem – it’s a massive design flaw or manufacturing flaw in all those Fords), but I can prevent stalling if I push the gas and the brakes at the same time every time I slow down to less than 20 mph. If it does stall, at least the battery works now, and I can restart it, but I’m hearing some noises, and I think the brakes are now destroyed and also stuck on, which has also repeatedly happened – whatever it is about their brake design, it’s prone to getting stuck always on. Japanese cars don’t do this.

Sitting there with my sweater buttoned up crooked the whole time

March 15, 2019

I just got all those silk neckties in bulk, thinking I’ll use them as silk scraps for something patchwork. I decided to read about how to tie a necktie, just for fun – I’ve done it before, but forgot how. And I laughed at all the photos of people with their neckties done wrong, crooked, too short, the back side hanging out, and so on.

So what did I then do? I went and walked in to talk to a manager about a job, and sat there the entire time with my sweater buttoned up crooked. I put it on before getting out of the car, and just casually buttoned the two nearest buttons together, never noticing that one side was higher than the other, and then talked to this guy for like twenty minutes like that.

He was my socionic supervisor, ESFJ, as I’m ISTP. I was tense and anxious and embarrassed, and also fascinated, and admiring, which is how people usually feel with their socionic supervisors. It overloads the circuits. I was overwhelmed and exhausted. I’m a bit anxious, because I remember times when I’ve negatively supervised ENTJs, where I can see every mistake they’re making. Socionic supervisions are usually not a very good relation. You can learn a lot, but it is also stressful.

I was at the plant nursery that I’ve gone to once or twice. I walked in, and felt a feeling of joy and excitement. The air was full of warmth, moisture, and the breath of plants. This manager and I talked for a while. He talked about stuff he’d seen out west, and I actually had a faint clue, because I’ve just been there recently. Before this road trip, I would’ve been 100% clueless, or 99% clueless, because I had been to Boulder, CO once briefly in 1989, and had flown there, not driven. But now, when I hear about Montana, or Wyoming, or the Dakotas, I can actually picture it.

Socionic supervision…. He is Hugo, I am Gabin type. I would love to work there, but scared at the same time. I could learn a lot about plants.

All your silk necktie are belong to us

March 14, 2019

I went to another bag sale.

But I did actually do a couple small semi-productive tasks. I picked up one paper job application from a hardware store, asked about applications at the natural food store, but they couldn’t find them, and they told me to come back when the manager was there, and, I saw that the fabric store has online applications (which I hate – I prefer paper – online applications are usually horribly designed, slow loading, malfunctioning web pages that take hours to complete, and fail to save all your work if you get disconnected or if it crashes your browser).

Okay. Oh, and I got a tool to try to remove the broken thing from the hydrant. That was a task too.

I went to the new location of St. Vincent de Paul thrift store, and they, too, had a bag sale. This time, it was a full size brown paper grocery bag, with as much as you can put in there, for $6. I paid for it with quarters, because that was the only cash I had, and their minimum is $10 for a credit or debit card.

I got silk. I found VERY nice things there, which I skipped – real fur coats, pure wool, many nice things. Today, I got nothing but silk (one had blended cotton with silk, which is okay). For $6, I got:

I can’t even count.

22 silk neckties, usually $3 each if I recall – I think that’s what the sign said, or a label on the tie – yes, the label says $3 – and an unknown amount when they were first bought by the original owners;

4 shirts, one of which was the silk cotton blend;

2 camisole lingerie things;

2 dresses, one of which was a whole solid piece, and the other was a shirt top with a matching skirt bottom, in a tropical parrot print (gaudy, but lovable – if you want to shout "I’m a tourist!" wear this at the beach).

The neckties count as fabric scraps or remnants, which can be used for a crazy quilt type of patterned object, whatever I might make. Sadly, their colors are mostly rather dull, but that’s okay, surely other scraps will contrast with them, and dullness has its place in the color scheme.

I tried on more stuff I bought the other day. One gold silk dress is beautiful, but has a strange sagging loose area in front, and I can’t figure out if it’s supposed to be that way, or if I’m doing it wrong, because it also has all these long strings that have to be tied somehow, and I am completely clueless about how to do it.

I have two paper applications, and have not filled out even my name yet. Just the name, for starters, the easy stuff.