Archive for May, 2012

Seeing a movie tonight; I’ll be able to read books again

May 31, 2012

7:00 PM 5/31/2012

I’m riding the buses around, making mistakes, getting on the one that goes the wrong direction, and riding it the whole way around its loop so that I can get back in the direction I was trying to go. You can’t predict which way the buses go based on which side of the street they’re on, in some places. I don’t know the routes. I never had the experience of riding the buses. I’ve lived here all this time, and everybody else always rode the buses, not me.

I’m going to the ‘special’ movie theatre in the middle of town, the one that I never went to because I didn’t like to park in town and pay for parking.

The camaraderie with the bike riders probably won’t last long. I had an anti-camaraderie experience while I was sitting at one of the bus stops with some other people. They were bus riders, not bikers, but it made me think about the bikers too, and it might apply to them. These people sitting at the bus stop were going a different direction in life than I was. They were Indians, speaking English with a thick accent. We have a very large number of foreign people going to Penn State – I noticed this because as a Caucasian I was actually a minority on the bus. They were sitting there having a discussion about which color of car they liked the most. The one lady said she might like a yellow Beetle, or she might like an eggplant purple Honda, or she might like black in some other kind of car. They spent several minutes obsessing about which kind of car and which color was the best. They wanted to go down the pathway that I myself had just gotten off of. But when they go down that pathway, they probably will never leave it, and will continue in that direction for the rest of their lives, and they will probably succeed. Most of the people who go that direction actually do okay. Only a few people suffer multiple disasters that wipe them out the way I did. Those Indians talking about which color of car they wanted will probably get what they want and have a secure, easy life, with one successful achievement after another.

So I thought that I’d probably find some reason to feel like I’m different from the other bike riders, too. I’ll feel as though they’re riding bikes for different reasons than I am, or they feel differently about it than I do, or their plans for the future are different from mine.

I’ll have to find people with a combination of several different interests at once. There are a whole bunch of belief systems that interact with each other that cause me to do the things that I do, to choose the things that I choose.

I went to the library to wait for the movie, and, seeing all these books, I just realized: I’ll be able to read books again. I stopped reading books because I contaminated several nice, expensive books, including one that came from the library, when the carpet of my apartment was covered with ephedra residue. Books? I used to read books! A very long time ago, I used to read books.

I just sold my car. It’s gone.

May 31, 2012

4:45 PM 5/31/2012

I just sold my car for $300. They are going to sell it for salvage. It would cost so much to fix that the repairs would cost more than the car itself.

There’s a difference between not being able to get any more use out of something, versus not being able to sell it for very much according to the official prices. In reality, I feel that my car was still worth thousands and thousands of dollars, because it still runs. I would have kept on repairing it and repairing it over years and years, and I would have kept it for another couple decades, if it hadn’t been contaminated by the drug residues. I never wanted a car with a trunk – I wanted one with a hatchback – and yeah, there were other things about the car that were not ideal, not what I really wanted, and I got it because I was inexperienced at car buying and didn’t know how to shop around to get exactly, precisely what I wanted, and I didn’t know how to avoid the things I didn’t want, because I didn’t know what they were yet, since I had never bought a car before, not on my own anyway. So, the car was not ideal, but I felt affectionately attached to it like a pet.

When I walked away I said, ‘Goodbye Peppy. Thank you for everything.’ I cried a little bit, and I still feel like crying, but I’m in a public place, at McDonald’s using the wifi.

I will now have to get used to being on my own, feeling vulnerable and exposed. I will be one of those ‘celebrity pedestrians’ or ‘celebrity bikers,’ one of those people where you say, ‘Hey, I see you all the time walking down the road at this particular place,’ or ‘I always see that person waiting at the bus stop when I drive by in the morning,’ or ‘That’s the lady who’s always riding her bike around here.’ For many months now, I’ve been the scary creepy homeless lady sleeping in her car in the parking lot at Wal-Mart, and I won’t be that person anymore.

I will have to get a different pair of shoes because these flip-flops are terrible for walking in. What on earth are flip-flops supposed to be good for, anyway? When I was a kid, we only used flip-flops whenever we went to the beach, and nowhere else. Am I the only person who calls them ‘flip-flops?’ Is that their official name? Is this regional? Is it only the people in this area who know what flip-flops are?

I haven’t really accepted it yet – it hasn’t sunk in – but selling the car means that my drug residue contamination has officially ended. I still actually have a couple pairs of contaminated shoes, and a couple items of contaminated clothing, but that’s nothing – I can just get rid of them and get new ones. And I won’t have to keep getting new things over and over again. I don’t understand it yet, but this is officially the end of the drug residue contamination.

I now have a feeling of camaraderie with the other bikers and backpack wearers and bus riders. There have always been people riding bikes around me, and I always sort of envied them somehow, but couldn’t explain why. I felt like they were experiencing something that I wasn’t experiencing. I admired their toughness, riding bikes instead of driving a car. I was always given cars, from my parents. All I had to do was blink my eyes the wrong way and a new car would magically appear every time I needed one without my even having to ask for it. It’s been a very, very long time since I lived without a car. I had my parents’ old cars even when I was in college.

It’s hard to explain how this makes me feel. It makes other people envy me for being wealthy. But I don’t like the feeling. I don’t like it that I haven’t ever had to work hard or earn anything that I had. I never experienced difficulties that ever lasted a long time. The past few years have been an unimaginable hell, but that’s different. That was other stuff. I still knew that all I had to do was wave a magic wand and I would instantly receive anything I wanted without the slightest effort. I never had to plan anything. I never had to think about anything. I never had to be careful. I never had to ask myself, ‘What are you going to do if you don’t have X?’ How are you going to pay for that? Oh, don’t worry, somebody somewhere will take care of it.

I haven’t understood it yet, but I really don’t have a car. I’m going to feel like it’s right out there sitting in the parking lot.

I could have kept on living in an apartment. I could have spent more money to fix the car. I could have reupholstered the car so that I would get rid of all the contaminated fabrics. But that would have been an extremely complicated and hugely expensive project. I would have spent thousands and thousands more dollars. I would have had to work two jobs. It would have taken a very long time to pay it off. In fact, I wouldn’t have been able to borrow money to do it, because I’ve defaulted on all my debts, and so I probably cannot get new credit cards (although, ha ha, THAT’S wishful thinking – they probably would still give me new ones even though I’ve defaulted on everything). So I would have had to save up the money in advance to pay for all that. And how would I have saved the money, while continuing to live in an apartment, and pay the rent, and buy new clothes and throw them in the garbage because they’re contaminated, over and over again, and all the other things that I have been doing to survive in this hell?

I’m another one of those bikers now. There are those mysterious people who ride around, wearing helmets and backpacks. I’m going to be one of them. Whatever mysterious things that they are doing, whatever mysterious places they are seeing, I’m going to see those things and do those things too. Why do they ride bikes instead of cars? What are their reasons? How did they get to where they are now? They can disappear off the road and down a path somewhere, someplace where you can’t see them, and I used to drive down the big roads with all the other cars, and I couldn’t go off the side and down all the secret shortcuts. Now I can do that. When I see another biker, I’m not going to be envying them from a distance anymore while I live in my safe, enclosed, sheltered little world where everything is easy. I’m going to see other bikers and I will know how they feel because I am one of them. I’ll know why they’re doing it.

I’m not on my bike right now. I’m going to have to start learning how to ride the buses.

I have to go to work tomorrow. It will be the first time that I go to work riding either a bike or the bus. I’ll have to think carefully about how I’m going to do it so that I can get there on time.

I will get used to this, and then, it will be time to start some new project. What is the next project?

The UMP ended today

May 31, 2012

Today was the day when I suddenly decided (as predicted) that I would say, ‘What the hell was I thinking? I can’t do this!’ and ended the Unsustainable Manic Project. I think it happened because I was becoming reluctant to answer the emails that I was receiving. I just didn’t feel like it anymore. It’s partly because I’m no longer wearing the item of contaminated clothing that was triggering the mania.

How on earth am I ever going to seek out friendships if searching for friends is something that I never attempt to do except when I’m on drugs and manic? Will I ever try to seek out anybody whenever I’m clean and non-manic? I just started feeling re-bonded with Rick again and stopped wanting to meet anybody else, but that’s not a good thing. I’m assuming that lady in the photos was his girlfriend. He went on another hike and I didn’t see her in the photos, but then, I wouldn’t really be able to recognize her if I did see her, because I haven’t seen her face very well. But anyway, that’s making me say, ‘Hey! They’re not hiking together anymore! That means they’re not actually together! Yay! He’s single!’ And I know this is probably not true.

I just have to do this one very difficult thing today, and that’s all I can focus on. I don’t know how I will seek out companionship after I’m clean, but it will have to be done somehow. And I have to do something realistic. I wonder how I’m going to feel about Rick. I will probably still just keep looking at his web pages forever, hoping to see anything interesting.

‘Oh my god, what is that THING?’

May 31, 2012

That’s what I said when I saw the huge bull with the weird blotchy coloring standing behind this falling-over fence that looks like it would not be able to hold back the bull if the bull decided to try to break free. I didn’t know there were new pictures, because for some reason they didn’t show up where I normally see them. That bull looks extremely scary.

‘What are all those towers?’  They almost look like windcatchers.  Windcatchers are a  building designed to use the flow of wind to provide ventilation and coolness.  Wikipedia explains it: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Windcatcher.  Qanats are also interesting – they’re an underground canal that can keep blocks of ice frozen for long periods of time without electricity in desert environments.  Yakhchals are amazing also.  I remember reading about all those things a few years ago when I was on Wikipedia.  So I’m wondering if all those towers might be something similar to windcatchers.

Sandy Ridge Wind Farm near Bald Eagle, PA

May 30, 2012

7:26 PM 5/30/2012

I got in the car and got on the highway, not knowing where I was going to go. I got on I-99. When I saw the windmills, I decided that my goal would be to drive up to see them up close. I had always wanted to go find them. You can see them from the highway. There are a bunch of windmills on the mountain. One of my coworkers had a picture of them up close, on her facebook page.

I didn’t use a map. I just got off the road and tried to drive towards them. I found some back roads that got pretty close to them. I tried to take pictures, but there was no place where I could get really close and park and get out of my car, except on a place that said it was private property and no trespassing. So I took some videos of them while I was driving, but the videos are not really good. I was very excited to see them. They are huge, awesome, fearful, beautiful. I might not like living next to them, because they probably make a noise. But it was very exciting to drive by them trying to get a good look.

I didn’t know the name of them, so I did some google research when I got home. If I understand correctly, they are the Sandy Ridge Wind Farm on Ice Mountain near Tyrone, PA, in Taylor Township, in Centre County, and the windmills are made by a company called Gamesa USA. They’re near Bald Eagle, which is the exit that I got off on from I-99. The windmills look exactly like all the pictures on the Gamesa website. I’m having a hard time finding out whether it’s technically in Tyrone or not, and I don’t really care enough to bother finding out, because it isn’t that important. I found out enough that I have a name for it now, when I didn’t have a name for it before.

I think I should have gone down Firetower Road. Somebody else mentioned that road on one of these web pages, and I saw it, but I wasn’t sure if it was a private road or not, and I didn’t go down it.

I think this feeling, this conviction that I have, might have been inspired by reading Rick’s web pages. I just have this feeling that whenever I get rid of my car, I will still be able to go anywhere that I want to go, without a car. If I ever want to go somewhere, I can get there by bike, bus, car pool, taxi, train, plane, walking, boats, hitchhiking, or by some other method. I feel as though I will actually do *more* exploring and have *more* adventures, not less, when I get on a bike. I will do more than I’ve been doing while driving a car.

In reality, it’s probably Rick’s passive income that enables him to do all of the things that he’s doing. He gets income from advertising on his web pages, and also from other unknown sources, unknown because I never had a chance to ask him about it before I was forced to harass him and make him refuse to talk to me ever again. I wanted to know more details about how he earns an income as a writer, translator, and website designer. I wanted to know about the passive income in particular. I myself have been trying, all this time, to find other ways to earn an income, and I learned about the idea of ‘passive income’ many years ago, and wanted to do it.

I still don’t have a passive income. But I feel that I will be able to save enough money that I will be able to have more adventures, once I’m riding a bike, and living in the tent, and buying food from the grocery store, and saving money in all the ways I can.

The drug residues and the various disasters have been what prevented me from having any adventures for the past few years. An entire fifteen years of my life has vanished. I came to State College in 1997 and I struggled and floundered for years and years and years, and I was simultaneously attacked by malicious people through no fault of my own, which made it even harder for me to liberate myself. It’s like I’ve been in jail for 15 years. It’s all been for nothing. I’ve learned a lot of knowledge from it. That knowledge is all that I have.

Tomorrow, I must find the title to the car, the piece of paper that says I own it. I brought that paper with me, after I sorted through all the papers that I had in the storage unit.

The sun is setting, and my loneliness and sadness are creeping up on me. It will be cold and dark tonight in the tent. This is temporary, though. I will gradually rejoin the human race, once my drug residues are gone, when I no longer have to worry about that particular disaster. I still won’t be able to get very close to people emotionally, for many reasons, and I still will feel as though the world doesn’t understand me or value the same things I value, but I will be able to get slightly closer to people than I have been.

I know that it’s only a fantasy relationship, but I am thinking of Rick. I don’t like trying to meet new guys and start all over. I still feel attached to him as though he is special. I don’t *want* to fall in love with somebody else. I don’t know how I’m going to get through this, how I’m going to fall in love with a real person instead of being infatuated with somebody merely because I admire his writing style. Rick and I would probably not get along well in person, for a lot of reasons. At one point, before he stopped speaking to me, he said that I should buy a plane ticket and go visit him for the purpose of getting a reality check, so that I would no longer have a fantasy image of him, and would instead have the image of a real person. I still feel as though I can do that. But he has divorced his wife – I don’t know who divorced from whom, or why – and he has a new girlfriend now, and he is going on his honeymoon hike with her, hiking long distances together, and I don’t know if he’s going with her for all of his hikes this summer, or just for a few small hikes with her – I don’t know. He will go hiking for many months, over many places, and he could be anywhere. I don’t know where he is, and I don’t know what country to look for in my blog stats, so I haven’t been able to see if he’s visiting me or not. I haven’t accepted it, the idea that I have to forget about him and go look for somebody else. Tonight, I don’t know why, he still seems special and amazing and mysterious and different from other people somehow. I know that he is just another human, just like the people responding to my ads, and that we would probably have no feelings at all for each other if we met in person.

I am getting rid of my car and changing my lifestyle. I can’t see Rick right now. I can’t even talk to him online. I can’t know what he’s doing or where he is. I can only do my own thing and finish my transition.

The Goodbye Peppy Road Trip

May 30, 2012

5:01 PM 5/30/2012

I just made an appointment to go talk to the garage tomorrow afternoon about selling my car to them.

I’ve started crying. I’m going to go on a Goodbye Peppy Road Trip. I’ll spend the money on gas and just go somewhere random, wherever I feel like going, for no reason, and it doesn’t matter where I go. It won’t be a huge road trip, just a little ways out of town, just driving around for fun.

I feel attached to this car like it’s a pet. I named it Peppy when I first bought it, because I had been driving a really old car for a long time, and when I pressed the accelerator in the old car, it was slow to respond. But when I pressed the accelerator in my new car, it jumped instantly to a higher speed, and it was very responsive, full of energy, peppy.

I had so many feelings about buying a car, about what it meant. A long time ago, I still felt like buying material objects was a form of progress. I would buy some new big thing, some appliance, a car, a computer, things like that, things that usually require borrowed money, and I felt like I was getting settled into my life and becoming independent and becoming an adult. I would have all my own stuff. Now, the opposite is true. I’m getting rid of things, and every thing that I get rid of is an achievement. I’m going to spend less money on things. Every thing that I’m not spending money on is another hour of freedom that I gain.

But in the past I had that irrational exuberance. It was Alan Greenspan who used that phrase to describe the feeling people used to have about the economy, about all the possibilities in the future, all the potential, especially the potential associated with the internet, before the bubble burst and before people lost a lot of money. I used to feel that way too. I thought that the future would be better than the past, and I thought that I only needed to do a couple of things, buy a couple of things, and everything would keep getting better and better, and I would become wealthier and more successful and more secure.

But I kept having disasters, one after another. Maybe that doesn’t happen to everybody. There are people who aren’t destroyed by multiple disasters. There are people who really do become wealthy and successful. But that wasn’t me. I lost one thing after another over many years.

The car is from that time period when I thought that I would buy more things for myself and the future would be brighter than the past. I still associate the irrational exuberance feeling with this car, that hopefulness. There are songs that have that feeling, too, that feeling of hope about the future, a feeling of energy and optimism, a feeling of power, of needing to do something big and important and meaningful, but what will it be? I heard the song ‘St. Elmo’s Fire’ on the radio a few weeks ago, and I remember I loved that song when I was a young child, and my brother bought me that record for my birthday. That song gave me that feeling.

I’m not saying that the feeling has died. It is still inside me. But I am going to direct it in different ways than I used to. I want to bring that feeling to life again, but I want to do it effectively. That feeling of hope will never die until I myself die. Nothing can kill my hope while I am alive.

I feel like my car is a pet, like it’s a living creature, like it has feelings. I gave it a name. I bonded with it. But a lot of terrible things happened, and I can’t take care of the car anymore. And I am 37 years old. I know that the car really doesn’t have feelings. It’s just pretend. It will break my heart to get rid of it. But I remind myself that somebody else is alive and does have feelings: my unborn children. They are alive, they have feelings, and they have been waiting for me for a long time.

So I am going to go for a ride in the car, because it’s almost the last time that I will use it. I don’t care about the gas. I don’t care how much it costs. It doesn’t matter. I’m going to change my life and it’s happening right now.

Headache caused by MSG, monosodium glutamate

May 30, 2012

4:23 PM 5/30/2012

I realized that my headache is being caused by monosodium glutamate, MSG, a flavor enhancer, probably in the Slim Jims. I didn’t look at the ingredient list yet to verify that it’s in there, but it very likely is. That’s the reason why these foods are on my forbidden foods list. I’m only eating them temporarily because it’s an emergency, but in the long run, ideally I will not be eating processed meats filled with flavorings and chemicals. My headache started in the middle of the night last night, and that’s too soon to be a caffeine withdrawal headache. Normally, I get a caffeine withdrawal headache at least 24 hours after quitting caffeine. But last night, it had only been maybe 12 hours or so since my last cup of coffee, maybe 15 hours. And today, I’ve had three cups of coffee so far, and I STILL have a headache that won’t go away. This is obviously not being caused by caffeine withdrawal! Monosodium glutamate gives me headaches every time I eat it, and I didn’t think of it when I bought the Slim Jims (I still need to verify that that’s what it’s in, but I’m guessing), I just knew that of course the Slim Jims were on the forbidden foods list and that they are filled with chemicals; I just wasn’t specific about which chemicals were in them or what symptoms they would cause.

The future be damned. Just get this project done.

May 30, 2012

12:46 PM 5/30/2012

I slept in the tent last night. I left my car in the parking lot at Wal-Mart. This morning I walked partway back to Wal-Mart, and rode the bus the last bit of the way.

Yesterday I left the library sometime around 6:00 PM, when it was still light outside. I went to Wal-Mart and parked my car. Then I walked all the way from Wal-Mart to the camp in Lemont. I don’t know exactly how long it took or how far the walk was. It’s a couple of miles, but not really far. It might be up to three miles. I looked at it on the odometer on the car and got a rough estimate. I got there before the sun set, but the sun was getting low and it was getting darker in the woods.

I went up to the camp with a feeling of sadness, loneliness, and depression. In the evening, I instinctively want to rejoin my tribe. I think of the bonobos, who have a fission-fusion group. They all live together in one big group, but during the day, when they go out hunting and foraging, they break up and go separately in their little small groups, and then rejoin in the evening. I feel like I need to do that. I want to come home to warm lights and voices and food and people who are waiting for me. But I went into the darkness alone to a cold, damp tent.

It was almost impossible for me to fall asleep. The air circulation in the tent was as bad as I said it would be. Every time I’ve tried to sleep in there, the carbon dioxide seems to build up on the floor, since the only vents are up high. There also might be some kind of fumes offgassing from the fabric of the tent. So in the beginning of the night, while it was still hot both inside and outside the tent, there was no circulation, and I would occasionally open the door and wave my sleeping bag around to move the air. The floor was comfortable enough, though, although it has a lump in the wrong place which needs to be removed, but I was able to move around to the sides of the lump.

I wasn’t that scared of wild animals in the nighttime. It was raining. I could hear the raindrops falling, and didn’t know for sure if I was hearing footsteps or not. I kept my cooking knives on the floor of the tent next to the door, and several bear sticks were lying on the ground just outside the door so that I would have spears if I needed to grab them. I pictured a cougar leaping onto the tent and ripping it to shreds while I was in it, and I had a dream (obviously a fake dream) later on that a giant bear was pushing down on the tent from outside and crushing it with me in it.

In reality, I had been thinking about falling trees crushing me in the tent. I deliberately put my tents in a place where they were out of reach of the dead pine trees that are about to fall. All of the dead pine trees nearby have several large live trees between me and them. I also tried to put myself more than a tree’s-length away from them, so that if they did fall, I would be beyond their reach. In the long run, I might actually chop down some of the dead pine trees if I see any that might be a threat. But I will not necessariliy be staying in this particular location forever. It’s too much trouble to go moving around and looking for a new location right now, but sometime after I’m settled, I might try to find something more ideal.

Even though it was hard to breathe in the stuffy tent, I wasn’t that uncomfortable. I watched the sun set and I watched the light slowly fade. I wasn’t surrounded by bright streetlights the way I am when I sleep in my car in the Wal-Mart parking lot. The fall of darkness was slow and unstoppable and inexorable. Whether you like it or not, it’s going to become nighttime, and there’s nothing you can do about it. I was glad that I was safely in a tent and that I knew where I was, instead of being lost in the woods alone faraway.

I was thinking of a bit of a movie that I had watched. The first guy who responded to my ad, the one who I knew immediately was an IEE, had mentioned a couple of movies, one of which was called Melancholia. It’s one of the movies that I’ve missed because I’ve been going to the ‘normal’ movie theaters instead of the ‘special’ theater in the middle of town, where they show unusual movies. I haven’t gone to that theater much, mostly because I don’t like parking my car in town. I watched a little bit of that movie yesterday at the library, but I was already depressed and didn’t want to watch more things that were depressing. So I only watched a little bit. In the beginning of that movie, they show strange images where the people are moving really, really slowly, so that you can barely see any movement at all.

I don’t know if I had this realization myself, or if ‘they’ explained and interpreted it for me, but I realized, as I was lying in the tent, watching the sunlight slowly fade, that the reason the people were moving really slowly in the beginning of that movie was because it was meant to resemble the movements of celestial bodies (because the movie is about another planet crashing into the earth). When you watch the moon, you can see it moving slowly through the sky, but the motion is barely perceptible, and you have to watch it for several minutes. If you keep your head in the same place, and watch the moon, you can see it as it slowly goes behind a tree branch or beyond the edge of a building or past the edge of your window pane. The people in the beginning of the Melancholia movie were moving exactly like that, as slowly and imperceptibly as celestial objects. Lars von Trier is probably a Delta NF, maybe an IEE. People with Intuition as their base function have a way of talking in symbolic secret code, and they want you to interpret what they’re saying.

It started pouring rain in the middle of the night, and I had to close the vent on the door partway so that the rain wouldn’t come in. I still left it open a bit. It finally got cold after it rained, though, and so the ‘heat rises’ theory of air circulation started to work the way it was supposed to work in my tent, and finally, I had slightly fresher air moving through the door vent and the ceiling vent. That doesn’t work at all whenever the heat outside is as hot as the heat inside the tent.

Some large dark object was clinging to the door of the tent. I wondered if it was a spider. I looked at it more closely. It was a big snail. I had seen several of these big snails yesterday. They had the ‘traditional’ snail shell, the one you see on cartoons, the one that is used symbolically to represent a snail shell, the one that is a flattened spiral. The other snails have the elongated spiral that has sort of a football shape, and that particular shape isn’t represented symbolically as the typical ‘snail shell’ shape as often as the flattened spiral. In the elongated spiral, the shell stretches out sideways while unwinding. It’s like if you had a piece of coiled rope, and you pulled on the end of the rope in the middle, so that the whole coil of rope became sort of a cone shape. The ‘traditional’ shape is just like the original coil of rope before you pulled out the center.

I fell asleep at some point. I had only had one cup of coffee yesterday, since I didn’t have any money left. I went into caffeine withdrawal and I started to notice a headache, but I wondered if I was getting a headache from breathing stale air in the tent all night long. I was okay, though. I had the dream about the bear crushing the tent. And then I woke up, and I have no idea how long I slept. It wasn’t very long at all. I never sleep normally, ever since the attacks began.

The sun rose, but my side of the mountain was still cold and shady. I knew that at this time, my car in the Wal-Mart parking lot would have been unbearably baking hot. I haven’t been able to sleep in late, in my car, for quite a few weeks now, because of the unbearable heat in the morning. But it was nice and cool in the tent, and I stayed there for a long time, until maybe 11:00 AM or so, I forget. I was under the trees, and could not really see what the clouds in the sky looked like. That’s one thing I can’t do when I’m in the forest – I can’t look at the clouds and see what’s going on.

So I got up, washed off a bit in some rainwater that had pooled on one of my tarps, and got dressed. I was thinking that I’d like to set up a tarp to collect rainwater deliberately, but I would want to prevent it from collecting mosquito larvae and other insects. Then I put on my backpack and started walking.

I went to Sheetz and did a MAC withdrawal and got myself some orange juice and coffee. I knew I would be craving fruit juice. Then I continued walking and stopped at a bus stop. I wasn’t that far from Wal-Mart, but I didn’t feel like walking, and also, I’d like to get used to riding the bus, because I’m still not very familiar with it. So I rode the bus the rest of the way.

I decided that I can spend my money as wastefully as I want to, with no thought of the future, as long as I accomplish one task: get rid of the car. I have to talk to the people I’d like to give it to. I had mentioned it to the mechanic at the garage where I got my brakes fixed. I’ve gone to that particular garage ever since I came to State College, when my brother recommended those people to me. I’ll talk to them again and negotiate something. In order to fix the bumper and the rest of the crash damage, it would cost a couple thousdand dollars. The cost of repairs might be greater than the value of the car itself, the OFFICIAL value, which is less than the value I have on it in my mind – I think that this car has actually increased in value since I bought it, and it was something like $6500 when I bought it, but it’s a Honda, which means that it is extremely good quality and will last forever, and it’s old, which means it doesn’t have as much unnecessary electronic garbage and crap in it, like special electronic sensors that automatically read this and detect that and anticipate your every need and do everything for you electronically instead of mechanically, and therefore, the car is better quality than the cars being made nowadays. Every old machine is better quality than every new machine, in my mind – anything mechanical is better than something electronic. If you have to push or pull something that mechanically pushes or pulls something else and uses physical force to move things around, then the machine is better than a machine where you push a button that triggers an electrical signal to move things around.

Electronics are unreliable, low-quality garbage, and there are reasons why they are that way. They are all being made in China, which is in the middle of a huge borrowed-money bubble, and the companies are all competing against millions of other borrowed-money fly-by-night companies producing the low-quality garbage even more cheaply than they themselves are. Sooner or later, there will probably be a huge economic collapse in China, and a whole bunch of factories will go bankrupt, and the financial parasites will move to some other country which is even poorer than China and has even lower wages. They like China because China has a combination of good infrastructure, roads to transport materials on, and low wages. They don’t like someplace like Indonesia, which has very low wages, but little infrastructure, so that it’s hard to transport their materials. But they will find some other victim somewhere in the world, some country that has low wages and good infrastructure, and they will move all of their borrowed-money junk-producing factories there, and that new country will have a financial boom and they will get rich quick, just like China.

So anyway, I think my car is still extremely valuable, but the official value might be lower than the amount of money needed to fix it. And, as I’ve said several times before, if only the buyers understood the terrible danger that they are in from the drug residues on the floor, they would actually want to sue me for tens of thousands of dollars because I knowingly caused all of their belongings to become contaminated. So in that way, my car is worth a very large amount of negative money, like -$20,000 or something.

Anyway, I was saying that I am free to waste money and do things inefficiently, with poor planning, in a messy way, as long as I accomplish only one goal, the goal of getting rid of the car.

I become incapacitated whenever the voices attempt to force me to plan things in detail. How much money are you going to spend on X? If you divide that by the number of days till your next paycheck, how much money will you spend each day? What will you do when you run out of money? Those questions are unthinkable and unanswerable, and I will be incapacitated with anxiety if I think too much about them, because I am only earning something like just over $100 a week, since I’ve only been working two days a week at McDonald’s during this transition. $100/7 is something like $14 a day. I cannot spend less than $14 a day at this particular time in my life, because I haven’t completed my transition to the new lifestyle. In the future, when I have settled in my new lifestyle, it will be easier for me to do things like cook over a fire and ride a bike and stop paying for gasoline. But right now I cannot easily do all of those things reliably and efficiently. I am still pre-transition, still living in an inefficient and messy way. And I will be working only two days this week – actually, three, since I worked Sunday to cover for somebody – and next week I will go back to the full time schedule, but it will take two more paychecks for the paychecks to catch up with me, so I will still have two or three more weeks where I only receive a tiny paycheck of about $100. The answer to the questions, ‘How much will you spend on X, blah blah, what are you going to do,’ is ‘I can’t. It’s impossible.’

So I know that this simply cannot be done. I will not be able to do the things I need to do to spend less than X dollars per day for the next two or three weeks until my big paychecks start to come in. If I think too much about this, I will freeze up and become unable to take action.

I actually know that I am going to be safe, and I know that I am living in a civilized area, surrounded by people, and that all I have to do is press the ’emergency help’ button, and hundreds of dollars, and dozens of people, will magically appear out of thin air, by my side, the very instant that I ask for help. I know this from experience and I know it from secondhand knowledge. I know that there are dozens of churches, co-workers, friends, family members, homeless shelters, government agencies, and other sources that will instantly and immediately give me whatever I need if I am desperate and in trouble. I am not alone in the wilderness hundreds of miles away from civilization. If I were in such a place, then I would greatly value the help of somebody like Rick, who specializes in planning ahead and preparing in advance for situations that could occur in places where nobody is there to help you. He goes on long hikes and calculates how many days it will take to get from one location to the next location. He knows how many calories he needs to eat each day.

Yesterday I put my bag of newly bought groceries into my icebox, which has no ice in it right now. I closed the icebox, thinking that these groceries would stay dry in the rain. The groceries were still in their plastic bag. Later when I came back and opened the icebox, there was a pool of water in the bottom of the icebox. It had rained, and rainwater had leaked into the icebox around the edges of the lid. I hadn’t known that was happening. My food is not safe from contamination if rainwater is leaking into there and getting into my ice, and I need to be more careful to protect the food. And there was a big pool of water in the bottom of the plastic grocery bag. The cardboard boxes of granola bars and Slim Jims were soaked on the bottom. I thought that this was okay, since the bars were all individually packaged in plastic. But later on that night, I opened up a granola bar only to find that the granola bar was soaked inside its wrapper. The wrapper had had a hole in it, and the water soaked in to the granola bar. I checked the other granola bars. It seemed that that was the only one that had gotten soaked. I threw away that particular bar, because I haven’t cleaned the icebox out yet, and the water in there is dirty – it still has bits of dirt and mud, and leftover rotten chicken grease from the leaky bags of chicken soup that I made originally when I first started cooking. I don’t want to eat a granola bar that has been soaked with water that has spoiled chicken grease and dirt and mud (and possibly parasites) in it.

What if something like that had happened when I was a long distance away from civilization? Right now, I only need to walk a short distance down the hill and I can knock on the doors of two nearby houses, if there is some kind of emergency. But if all my food had gotten soaked and ruined when I was on a long hike, what would I have done? Imagine if I had carefully calculated how many calories I would need to eat each day while walking, but suddenly, a large amount of my food was destroyed, and I couldn’t get any more food until I reached a town. I would have needed to protect my food carefully before I ever left home.

Anyway, the point was that I cannot possibly spend less than the daily required amount of money while making only $100 a week, but I’m not going to get all upset and worried about it. I will do *something*, and I don’t particularly care what it is that I do. I will do whatever I feel like doing at the time when it happens, when I run out of money. I could just go without eating any food for several days. That wouldn’t be the end of the world. I really only need to provide my own food during the days when I’m off work, because I get free meals when I work at McDonald’s, so really, I’d only be starving or fasting on my days off, and I could just go to McDonald’s and say, ‘:(, I’m all out of money, can you guys give me a free manager meal? :(‘ and they will do it. There are thousands of people around me who will respond to a frownie face and a Poor Little Me, I’m Hungry, by giving me free food, if it’s an emergency and if I need to do that. I’m trying not to take advantage of that, but right now, I’m doing a transition, and I will be more efficient and more independent afterwards, but I’m still stuck in the wasteful and inefficient stage right now. Transitions are expensive. You have to spend money in order to stop spending money!

That’s a weird concept. You have to spend money in order to stop spending so much money. But what if you have no money in the beginning? I’m thinking of all the governments that now have to implement ‘austerity measures’ because they are bankrupt. Millions of people in countries around the world have to make transitions to a cheaper lifestyle because of the global economic collapse, but they can’t do it because they are already broke and cannot buy the things they need to make the transition. They can’t, for instance, spend $50 to go out and buy themselves a tent so that they can stop living in an apartment and paying rent. I had to spend a lot of money to set up my camp. It’s going to be cheaper in the long run, but it’s temporarily expensive to do the transition and set up the new lifestyle.

It reminds me of a book I loved as a child, called ‘The Secret of Nimh,’ or ‘Mrs. Frisby and the Rats of Nimh.’ The rats wanted to stop living as thieves, and so they made a plan to move into the woods and grow their own food. But in the beginning, they had to steal more than ever. During the transition, they had to steal even more food from the farmer, so that they would have seeds that they would plant whenever they went to their new home, in addition to the seeds they were already eating on a daily basis. My transition feels like that. I have to waste even more money right now, but the goal is to eventually set up a lifestyle that will cost less money.

Thinking about the future, versus just taking action and using up your resources right now, is partly related to personality type. But it’s also related to past experience. I grew up with wealthy parents who would give me money anytime I needed it, and I always feel as though they are there in the background as a last resort. Not everybody feels that way, that awareness that there is always somebody in the background who will help you no matter what happens. I myself have that knowledge that I can get help, but I also sort of don’t respect that or don’t believe it’s a good thing. I value self-reliance very strongly, and I also value trade rather than gifts. I feel as though I would like to avoid asking for help and asking for free gifts. I believe it’s wrong, partly because of all the books that I’ve read, Ayn Rand, the libertarians, all the other books that talk about trade and economics and why we must pay for the things we receive. So I know that I can do something to get help if I need it, but I also know that I will lose self-respect if I do something that I believe is wrong. I won’t let myself die or starve to death, and so, I will instead do things that violate my self-respect and my beliefs about what’s good and bad, but only within certain limits.

But I gave myself permission to mess around and be wasteful, as long as I achieve the goal of getting rid of my car. That is the only thing that matters. Getting rid of the car will force me to do the transition. I simply won’t be able to run around inefficiently and wastefully anymore. I will *have to* plan what I’m doing and prepare in advance. I’ll have to carry a backpack with everything I need in it, before I get on my bicycle and ride away from the camp. If I don’t have that backpack with everything I need, then I will be miles away from my camp and I will be very annoyed with myself for accidentally leaving something behind that I need right now. I can’t just turn around and drive home.

Using the car allowed me to be inefficient and careless. No matter where you are, it’s no trouble at all to just turn the car around and drive home to get something you forgot. You can just run out the door and carelessly leave behind things that you desperately need, drive twenty miles down the road, say, ‘Oh, crap! I forgot to bring X and I really, really need it!’ and turn around and drive twenty miles back to your house to go get X. You’ll be mad at yourself, and you’ll waste a few minutes of time, but it’s still almost effortless. You can spend many hours driving back and forth down the road without feeling any pain or fatigue or hunger or thirst.

The pain comes whenever you are at your job earning the dollars to pay for your gas. You’re standing on your feet and running around the grill area at McDonald’s for eight hours a day and you’re tired and you want to sit down. But it’s hard to connect that pain to the moment when the cost was incurred. Your body can’t understand that the reason why you are feeling pain and exhaustion while working at McD is because you wasted a lot of money on gas last week, and now you have to work at McD to earn more money.

But if you’re riding a bicycle to get around everywhere, you instantly know that you’ve done something wrong. Your body is exhausted because you were stupid enough to walk out the door without bringing X, which you now desperately need, and you have to either turn around and go back home to get it, or somehow do without X, or spend money to buy another X someplace else because you need it right this instant.

Riding a bike will force me to think about what I’m doing, plan ahead, and calculate how much everything is going to cost, and think about what I am going to need, and think about how long something is going to take. I will become more conservative and more efficient in every way about everything I do. And so, I will be able to spend fewer hours running around the grill area at McDonald’s. As much as I do enjoy that job, and I sincerely do enjoy it, and I like it more than any other fast-food place or any other store that I’ve worked at, and I like it more than any other minimum wage job that I’ve ever had, still, I’d rather not have to work so much. And no offense to them that I feel that way.

So my motto for the next couple weeks is, the future be damned, just do whatever I feel like doing until the money runs out, because it will run out, again and again, for the next few weeks, until this phase is over. I’m going to do what I have to do to finish this transition, and I’m going to succeed.

OMG, Slim Jims, Granola Bars, and Nut Mix

May 29, 2012

Slim Jims, Granola Bars, and Nut Mix
Slim Jims, Granola Bars, and Nut Mix
Slim Jims, Granola Bars, and Nut Mix
Slim Jims, Granola Bars, and Nut Mix

sigh…… Not long till I get my direct deposit tomorrow.

I think I’m going to watch a movie online. A while back, I was able to find a couple full length movies on YouTube, but they were in their untranslated foreign languages. I found ‘Antonia’s Line’ and ‘The Polar Bear King’ both in foreign languages. Anything in English gets removed for copyright violation, but they aren’t as quick about removing the ones in foreign languages.

The car is emptied out and ready to go. I will try to sleep in the tent tonight.

May 29, 2012

3:54 PM 5/29/2012

When I got up, I was arguing with ‘them’ about what I was going to do today and how I was going to do it. They finally said something which had to be interpreted as not referring to me, because it wasn’t possible. They said, ‘overdraw the account,’ and when I tried to do that, it wouldn’t let me.

I started my period early this morning, and so I thought it was going to be an extremely terrible day. But I was able to take ibuprofen before the cramps started, so I hardly cramped at all.

They said that today would be a normal day just like any other day. I was going to go to the MAC machine and take out as much money as I wanted. Then I would fill the gas tank and drive around town randomly, eating fast food the way I always do, and I’d make it till tomorrow, when I would get my paycheck. They said that I would just overdraw the account and not worry about the fee that I would be charged, because I would be required to get every single thing out of my car today once and for all, and move it up to the tent, so that I would be ready to sleep in the tent tonight. I could do whatever I wanted, as long as I succeeded in getting every last thing out of the car. I was feeling emotionally reactive because of my period and because I had just taken ibuprofen without eating anything, so I started crying and found it hard to stop crying, because I was so relieved and grateful to be getting out of the car today and that I wasn’t going to be stopped or prevented from doing that. I don’t know if those emotions came from within me or if they were something that was artificially being done to me.

I first went to the gas station and I put in only $5.00 of gas, so that I would be slightly above empty. I was still very low, but it was no longer an emergency. Then I went to McDonald’s and I got a sausage muffin and a small orange juice, so I spent just a couple more dollars, and I paid him $2.64 in dimes and pennies out of my change can. I said, ‘I’m so sorry, Mike, you’re going to hate me – I’m totally broke,’ and when he took the dimes and pennies he said, in a surly voice, ‘*I* don’t have to count them,’ and he just dropped them in the drawer. I drove away laughing my ass off because of that. I never thought of it that way, but yeah, I guess he could just do it like that.

So then I went to the MAC machine and attempted to take out more money than I had. It wouldn’t let me. So I just drove away.

I went to the park, and I threw away some things into the dumpster. Then I went up to the camp. It was still early in the morning, and hardly anyone was there. I took all my boxes out of my car and up the hill. Nobody saw me doing this. It was a good time to go there. I took out everything that I could find. I didn’t organize it. I set it on the ground near the tent. It was still bright and sunny and cloudless, so I left it all sitting there and didn’t put it away. I was very tired.

Then I went to the grocery store with my checkbook, knowing that I could write a check for approximately $19 or less.

I bought a box of granola bars, a box of regular Slim Jims, a couple of the beef-and-cheese stick Slim Jims, and a bag of mixed nuts, fruit, and chocolate chips. That was less than $19. I figure it will get me through till Wednesday at noon when I get my deposit, but I am going to be so sick of those foods by then. They are satisfying enough, but I just don’t like eating the same things over and over, and I’m going to be craving juice and other things by tomorrow at noon. It’s enough that I won’t starve. It violates all my dietary rules – they all have artificial preservatives and stuff in them (although I chose a brand of granola bars that doesn’t have too much of that stuff in them).

I went to McDonald’s, the one where I work. It could not have been a better day to get cardboard. They had so much cardboard that it wasn’t able to fit in the dumpster. Huge boxes filled with folded boxes were sitting down on the ground next to the dumpster. I picked up an entire box, and took the whole thing with me. I would have been visible on the cameras inside, and I wondered if anyone saw me. Then I left.

I took the box of cardboard up to the camp. I had to carry it up in several trips. I wanted cardboard boxes to put my stuff in, because right now it’s in a bunch of bags and it’s disorganized and hard to find anything. I didn’t try to organize anything yet. I just set the cardboard down and I rested.

I ate some of my foods. I took off all my clothes. I’ve been sometimes going around naked up at the camp. The bugs were bothering me like crazy. I’m going to have to get some kind of all natural herbal bug repellant. I just rested for a while. I had carried a whole lot of heavy stuff, and I had gone up and down the hill quite a few times. I put all the cardboard into the storage tent without organizing anything, because I wanted to make sure it was protected from rain before I did anything else. I didn’t know whether it would rain today or not. I just assumed that it would rain sooner or later.

After a while, I heard thunder, and finally, it did start to rain, and it’s still raining now. I curled up in the tent with my sleeping bags. After a while, after I got warm, after it stopped raining so hard, I got up and got some things out of the storage tent. I got my backpack and my laptop and my phone and a few granola bars and slim jims. Then I got in the car and came to the library, where I am now, charging my batteries.

I have enough gas that I’ll be able to go back to the Wal-Mart parking lot and leave the car sitting there overnight. I don’t want to go the camp and leave the car sitting there overnight, because we’re not allowed to camp on the mountain overnight. I’ll ride the bus back to the tent, if I can find $1.50 in my change can. If not, I’ll either just sleep in the car tonight or else I’ll walk to the camp. I forgot to check the mileage. I had been trying to find out how far it was from Wal-Mart to the camp, and I reset the trip odometer before I started, but then forgot to read what it said afterwards.

So if all goes well I’m going to try to sleep in the tent tonight. My car is emptied out. I have a couple things in there, such as the seat cover for the driver’s seat, but other than that, basically nothing. That means that I’m ready to start getting rid of the car. And I mean it’s really ready for real this time. The car is empty and all the stuff is up at the tent. I did that all today.

It gives me a feeling of increasing relief and security.  I will be rid of the drug residues, and also I will no longer have to pay thousands of dollars for repairs.

out of money

May 28, 2012

7:07 PM 5/28/2012

My browser seems to have a virus, and it’s annoying. It’s making all of my web pages go onto the net to look for something every couple seconds. Something will download, even though the page has finished downloading and it’s only just supposed to be sitting there. I need to fix it but I’m postponing that for now.

I’m out of money, and it’s Monday, and the direct deposit comes on Wednesday. I’m also out of gas in the car. I have a few dollars left in my wallet, a little bit of change in my change can, and I have a checkbook which can write a check for less than $20, but I can’t get that money out with the MAC machine unless I overdraw, because you have to take it out in increments of $20, and I have $19 something.

So, I’m going to keep my car here in the parking lot at Wal-Mart, and tomorrow, I’m probably going to be walking someplace or possibly riding the bus, and I may go to the tent and get on the bicycle and go riding around town on my bike. I’m not sure if I’ll have my netbook with me at first, because I don’t have a backpack to put it in – the backpack is in the tent right now. I can use my last few dollars to get food. I had to get rid of the food in the icebox for a couple of reasons. I had something in there that I think was giving me diarrhea. I need to clean the icebox out. I also need to do something about the smoke when I cook, and I might try just wrapping a wet towel over my mouth and nose. That won’t work very well though. It will quickly become saturated with smoke.

I’ve been getting more stuff out of the car, little by little, and putting it up at the tent. I’m not sleeping in the tent yet. Every time I’ve tried to sleep there, I’ve been too uncomfortable for a couple of reasons. The air in the tent is bad. The air vents are up high when they need to be down low. The people who designed the tent thought that ‘heat’ was the only problem in a tent, and they thought ‘heat rises,’ therefore the vents should be up high. It didn’t occur to them that ‘carbon dioxide sinks, therefore it needs a vent down at the bottom too.’ On a hot day, my tent can be filled with carbon dioxide all below the level of the vent, and there’s not enough of a difference between the heat inside the tent and the heat outside the tent, so the heat isn’t really going to rise up and go through the vents at all. It’s just going to be a bunch of stagnant carbon dioxide in there, which makes me very uncomfortable and unable to sleep. Not only that, but there seems to be some kind of chemical vaporizing from the tent fabric itself. I think that won’t be a problem forever, but it is right now.

So I will need to cut my own vent in the tent, and I’m imagining how I will do it. It is not going to be a neat and tidy cut where I take it home and do it on the sewing machine. It’s going to be something crudely done and messy and not very durable.

Theoretically, I could sleep in the sleeping bag with a mosquito net over me, which is one of the ultralight hiking methods of doing it. I tried sleeping with the tent door open one day in the afternoon, and I had been there only a minute or two when I heard ‘Neeeeeerrrrrrrr, nnnneeeeeeeeeeeerrrrrrrr, neeeeer neeeer neeeeeeeer,’ a mosquito flying around next to my ear. I also have Eyeball Gnats, the ones that dive directly into your eye and kill themselves. There are infinity spiders, too. You can’t just chase away one spider and then hope for the best. You will be doing nothing but chasing spiders away and killing spiders all day long. I don’t kill them unless I have to. I would only kill one if it was inside my sleeping bag (while I was in it) or something, if I was panicking. I just brush them away and try to keep them out of the tent. So I have to keep the door closed and use the screen vent on the door.

Every change that I make will cost a little bit of money, so I can’t do it right this instant. I will have to tolerate the tent being the way it is right now.

My netbook battery is going to die pretty soon. And, as I said, it might be a while before I get everything settled tomorrow, and I might be walking around on foot for a few hours without anything except my wallet. I don’t really want to spend $1.50 on the bus. I just have to wait through tomorrow until I get the deposit on Tuesday.

This is hard, but it could be a good thing, if it forces me to start trying to use the bike. I can’t put gas in the car, and I can’t do all the things that I normally do. I normally drive around town freely and randomly and inefficiently, going from place to place and fooling around and getting fast food.

I’ll post this so that I don’t use up all the netbook battery.

Actually, no joke:

May 27, 2012

Years and years ago when I was reading those books by John Douglas, I remember reading that the panty-sniffers tended to be serial killers. He said you should take them seriously. But I find it sort of difficult to take seriously. He was referring to the people who actually broke into someone’s house to steal a pair of panties, and that kind of thing. The people who do that feel that they cannot be with a real woman. They tended to have a lot of problems.

What I don’t understand is how people can be sexually excited by someone whose personality they are totally incompatible with. I have to actually care about someone and feel comfortable with them in order to feel sexually excited by them. There was some word for this, but I forget what it is.

Some guy wants to purchase some of my… used clothing.

May 27, 2012

I told him it would be $200. Let’s see what he says.

answered a letter

May 27, 2012

9:13 AM 5/27/2012

I was able to write the letter without being manic. When I write a letter to someone, it’s like firing a nuclear bomb at them and expecting them to catch it with their bare hands. It was wonderful to do that with Rick, because he is able to catch it and throw it back at me, instantly. Rick has that high-density writing style, where it’s a very long letter and every sentence is filled with dozens of important words and concepts that can all be extrapolated. When I’m not manic, I don’t extrapolate quite so much, and in the future, I will, once again, be off caffeine, and no longer manic, and I will have to see how I communicate when that happens.

I don’t know about this person yet. I don’t know if he’s able to do it. I have to hold back a little bit and save some of it for later, which requires me to have faith that this person is going to come back again in the future.

He brought up the subject of God and free will and evil.

I still do not want to let go of Rick, even though he’s honeymooning with his new girlfriend. But I don’t have time to write about it now.

I’m okay this morning.

May 27, 2012

I just have to catch up on answering the baldness emails and the Indian guy’s email. And I agreed to cover for somebody at McDonald’s who wasn’t going to be able to come in to work today. So I’m going in to work at 10:00.

I’m going home now.

May 26, 2012

I’m not feeling as weird as I felt a while ago. I’ve talked to the doctor. He doesn’t understand the distinction between chemical sensitivity and allergy. I will probably catch a horrible disease from the hospital itself. But oh well, I’m leaving.

I checked in

May 26, 2012

right around the time when I sort of started feeling better. Now I get to sit here in a room wasting everyone’s time. I hate when this happens. This isn’t the first time.

I suspect that tiny traces of mountain laurel poison got into my mouth while I was eating.

May 26, 2012

i got sick after eating

i had walked barefoot on the mountain

this evening i took off my sock and touched the broken toe with my fingers

then i ate the strawberry pie with my bare hands and i didn’t wash my hands first

i have mountain laurel poison on my hands. i touched the food and i put the food into my mouth. i felt like i was going to pass out and vomit. now i have low blood pressure.

********************
I went walking on Nittany Mountain barefoot today. I walked past a lot of mountain laurel. I know from past experience that rhododendron poison gets all over the ground beneath the plants, and it’s the same with mountain laurel. I came down from the mountain and went to work, but I didn’t wash off my feet because I didn’t have time. I had been hiking just before work.

I was fine all day at work. The poison didn’t seem to be going through the skin of my feet.

But then, later in the evening, I took off my shoe and sock to look at the toe that I think is broken. I stubbed it badly on a rock. It’s all black and purple and swollen. I touched the toe with my fingers.

I didn’t wash my hands after touching my toe. Then I ate one of the pies at McDonald’s. I was holding it in my hands. I must have spread the poison from my toe to my hands to the pie that I was eating. I almost finished eating the pie, but felt like I was going to throw up. I spit out the last bite. But I had already swallowed some of it.

I thought I just had an upset stomach for some reason. That’s not all that unusual. But over the next hour or so I started to feel weak and lightheaded like I was going to pass out. The lightheadedness didn’t go away. It got worse. It’s still persisting.

I’ve driven myself to the hospital and I’m sitting in the waiting room, but I didn’t check in. I just told the lady I was here and that I was going to sit here for a little bit to see if it got better on its own. I told her I felt like I was going to pass out.

It turns out that the emergency room has a wi-fi and I can get on it.

I’ve had a bad day.

I was reading about grayanotoxin poisoning. They said it was rarely fatal if it was a small dose. I definitely got a small dose. I didn’t actually eat a leaf. I just had a few molecules that got on my hands and got into my mouth while I was eating. This would be the very definition of a ‘small dose.’ They probably would not even be able to detect any traces of it in my system.

I usually feel a little bit lightheaded whenever I walk through the groves of the mountain laurel. I’ve known about rhododendron poisoning for several years now, because I walked next to those flowers to take photos of them, and I spread the poison from my shoes to the carpet of my apartment. Every time I touched that poison, I would get chest pains, angina.

So, now I can sit in the emergency room for a while and enjoy the wi-fi and see if I start to feel better soon. There are lots of people around me and I feel comfortable. I just feel lightheaded.

I will have to answer these emails later.

May 26, 2012

4:28 PM 5/26/2012

I don’t know whether I am evil or whether I’m just being controlled and I’m totally innocent and didn’t know what I was doing. I didn’t really think very hard about it. I’ve put my UMP baldness ad in the same place where I found the two guys. I didn’t email either of the guys for the past couple days. I just kind of said ‘oh well.’ The Indian math teacher guy is behaving like a dual, not a semi-dual. Now he’s sent me an email and is negging me about my facial hair, in that kindly and helpful sort of way. When I saw his email, I smiled involuntarily for the first time, and it was an evil smile. Meanwhile, I am getting large numbers of replies from curious guys who want to know what on earth I’m doing with some kind of baldness photography project. I had been hearing voices saying ‘She went lower – urgent action needed,’ referring to my baldness ad.

The content of this email was something to the effect of, if you want any guy to ever be attracted to you, you will have to shave off your facial hair.

It’s dangerous for me to try to communicate about serious topics while manic, because I am feeling this temptation to send a response that says, ‘If you ever want me to feel sexually attracted to you, you are going to have to grow your hair and your beard longer.’ I’m not going to send a response right this instant, because it requires thinking, and I’m at work, on my lunch break, with limited time, and the radio playing loudly upstairs.

Meanwhile, I might have broken my right baby toe. And I’m ashamed of how I broke it. It could not be described as an accident. Instead it would be better described as a foreseeble and inevitable consequence of doing something which is usually viewed as a dumb thing to do. I went barefoot hiking on Mt. Nittany, all the way to the top, and back down again, still barefoot, and I stubbed the little pinky toe on a rock. I stub my feet and toes frequently on the rocks while barefoot, and that wouldn’t be a problem if I were going only on my own little private paths. But I am going on the main paths, which are deeply eroded and all the rocks are exposed. Now my toe is swollen and it hurts badly enough that I’m limping around at work. But it isn’t agonizing pain. And it’s not bleeding. It’s a closed wound. I think I’ve broken toes in the past and not even really been sure that I broke them, and I’ve just let them heal on their own, and I will try to do that again. But I’m older now, and I don’t heal as easily as I did when I was younger, and my nutrition is still inconsistent and usually still not good.

I would need to be non-manic to answer this email, because it would be best if I took it seriously instead of interpreting it the way that I’m interpreting it now. I just have this sort of all-powerful I-can-do-no-wrong feeling which comes from the mania, and that’s dangerous when you are trying to make decisions that affect people’s feelings. In order to answer this email properly, I have to take it dead seriously and I need to feel hurt and insecure and all the other things that I am supposed to feel, instead of this evil smile and this overconfidence. Because it’s theoretically possible that I could locate dozens and dozens of duals with my various advertisements, and yet each and every one of them would reject me one after another, with not one ever saying yes.

I should go to one of the hair fetish websites. I’ve seen people there writing about how much they love female mustaches, in addition to all other types of female hair. That was a few years ago. That was what informed me that this niche market existed. Once I knew that the niche market existed, I was never able to feel completely insecure ever again. I knew that I could just find a so-called fetishist, which was what I was always looking for.

It would be most difficult for me to find a ‘fetishist’ who not only loved and accepted my appearance, but who was also willing to do the things that I want him to do for MY so-called fetish as well. All the guys who I see looking at hair fetish websites are, themselves, normal looking guys with short hair. Do unto others as you’d have done to you.

The Classic Unsustainable Manic Project (UMP)

May 26, 2012

7:15 AM 5/26/2012

This is a classic Unsustainable Manic Project (UMP), and it’s totally caused by the reaction I’m having to my shoes. I need to get new shoes, but I will wait a couple days till I get my paycheck. Until then, I need something to rant about for hours and hours, so I will rant about one of my favorite topics.

A UMP is usually something that I do not profit from financially, although I sometimes try to do things like start my own business during a UMP. Sooner or later, I’m going to say, ‘This is a huge waste of time, and I’m gaining nothing from it. I can’t believe I did this.’ It always involves other people, so that a whole bunch of other people are expecting something from me, and I have a duty to fulfill to them. It’s always something crazy and radical and extreme. It’s always based on grains of truth, always something that I wish I could do if only I had enough resources and enough time, but I never try to do it because I know that I just can’t follow through.

I just need to entertain myself by talking to some people for a few days so that I can survive this manic attack without bothering other people like Rick. Rick is on his honeymoon, on a long hike with his new girlfriend (he didn’t say it was a honeymoon, that’s just what I’m calling it). This would be a bad time to start emailing him and harassing him. I haven’t seen his country in my stats at all now that he’s gone hiking – Georgia has been completely absent from the stats, it just vanished as soon as he started his hike-honeymoon, and the only thing that might possibly have been him was a few hits from Russia, even though I don’t think he was technically in Russia at the time, just near the edge of it. He goes online when he gets to a town, but he would not be online for long, and he’s with his girlfriend, so he will probably not be doing things like reading my blog and getting whatever it is that he gets out of reading it. He gets something from it, I don’t know what, but he is a regular reader. I still feel attached to him and I still have this fantasy relationship with him. But I have to leave him alone. I need something else to do that is entertaining enough to occupy my mania until I can fix my shoe problem.

The UMP has barely begun. I don’t know how many responses I will get. I’ve gotten two responses so far. I don’t know how many people will agree to do what I’m asking. I assume that it will be an extremely small number of people, near zero, who will actually agree to go through with it. I put up an ad asking for bald men to participate in a photo project, and I said that I was doing something unusual that went against the stereotypical perceptions of baldness. I didn’t say in detail what I was doing in the ad, because I’ve had experiences where trolls flagged and deleted my ads just because they were strange and unusual. So I asked people to email me if they were curious about it and I would tell them. I’m telling them that I would like them to grow their remaining hair and beards long even though they’re balding, and I would photograph their progress over time, and it would take a long time.

There will be maybe a lot of people who email me for more information, but I don’t think many of them will be able to do the project. I’d pay them, but I can’t. I can only find people who will do it willingly on their own.

This would be an extreme ‘niche market.’ It’s almost impossible to find this perspective on the internet. I’ve found a few pages that talk openly about the phenomenon of having long hair while balding. They sometimes call it a ‘skullet,’ a mullet where you can see your ‘skull’ (actually the scalp) because of the baldness. Most mullets are done on a full head of hair, so the hair on top would still be there, it would just be cut short. The balding mullet is a naturally occurring mullet, and so I do not describe it as a ‘faux pas’ or bad hairstyle the way the mullet is described – I don’t like to define a natural, normal phenomenon as bad. I agree that (non-balding) mullets are bad, but my solution to a mullet is to grow the rest of the hair and stop cutting any of it, and many other people say that a mullet should be fixed by cutting off the long parts. A mullet is bad the same way that ordinary short hair is bad, in my opinion.

Anyway, this is extremely niche. I haven’t seen people who openly advocate it as a good thing. I’ve seen a couple pages with collections of people, like the ‘Top Ten Skullets In Rock’ page, which shows musicians who have this hairstyle, but they take a sort of neutral position, or a sort of humorous position, like, this isn’t necessarily a good thing, it’s just something that happens. I would be one of a tiny number of people who strongly advocate it as being a good thing.

All of this ranting will stop as soon as I get the mania fixed. Then I will be all shy and timid again, and I will still have to talk to people who are emailing me about this, and all my manic energy will be gone, and I’ll be talking in a normal, sane, non-ranting way again. I’ll stop caring about it and I won’t want to try very hard to explain anything or convince anyone. I’ll probably be all mortified about it and I’ll delete the ad the very instant that the mania is gone. I’ll tell myself that I have lots of things to do that are much more urgent and important than this. I know all this from past experience.