Archive for August, 2016

brute force

August 31, 2016

I at least informed him in advance that I would no longer be working on Monday or Tuesday. I just sent him a text message this morning. It was very brief and blunt. I didn’t give a two week notice before doing this. I’m going to start taking off next Monday. I don’t know what to expect from him when I go in today – he may or may not ask me about the text message.


August 31, 2016

Is hopniss plant fume inhalation giving me diabetes and weight gain (adipose tissue deformity)? The plant toxins – protease inhibitors, if I recall, according to the guy who was studying hopniss at a university – protease inhibitors cause weight gain and high blood sugar. I moved the plant so it’s right in front of the front door. It used to be off in the side yard. I was planning to take all the plants when I moved out, but then never got to move out. I also need to put the avocados indoors for freezing weather. So, I’ve been getting more exposure to hopniss vapors since it’s right near the front sidewalk.

Agustin and Gerber both missing several days

August 31, 2016

This job isn’t worth it without the two of them. Mostly Agustin, since he’s my favorite, but I think Gerber is cool too. I’m starting to wonder if Agustin is quitting his job. They’ve called him on the phone a few times, and also Gerber, I think, trying to find out why they aren’t working.

If Agustin stops showing up, then this job isn’t worth it at all. If this job isn’t worth it, then I might as well do some harsh
negotiations and a brute force refusal to show up except when I want to. I’m going to calculate some numbers and see how many hours I’m really being paid for, and maybe perhaps I’ll show up for that number of hours. I’ll just simply not show up for a couple of days.

Every time I try to find someone to take over some of my hours, it falls through – somebody might be interested or answer the ad, but not show up, or show up once or twice and then not come back. I’ve decided this is not my responsibility, after trying and failing several times. If it’s this hard to find a part time dishwasher, then I need to be getting paid a lot more money. If he refuses to pay me a lot more money, then I’ll just not work for two whole additional days, so I’ll be off Sunday, Monday, and Tuesday. Then I’ll be working approximately 40 hours in the remaining four days. I know he’ll cut my pay to some ridiculously low number, but it won’t matter anymore – if Agustin is quitting or not showing up anymore then there is no reason for me to be there.

I don’t like screwing over the remaining guys who are going to be working on Monday and Tuesday without a dishwasher, but I’ve decided this is not my problem anymore. It’s Freddy’s responsibility. He can even put a sign that says ‘part time dishwasher wanted’ in the window, or else he can pay me a gigantic fuckton of extra money for all the billion hours of overtime.

The outcome that I predict is the MOST LIKELY outcome: I’ll just refuse to show up Monday and Tuesday. Nothing will happen at all, except people will suffer more on those days, and the people (slaves) who are already being fucked over will be getting fucked over even more on Monday and Tuesday. I don’t like that, but it has to be that way. Freddy will then cut my pay to some pathetically low number that isn’t proportional to the 40 hours I’ll still be working. He’s paying me less than minimum wage in addition to not paying overtime.

This isn’t the same as a ‘contract’ job. I have absolutely no control over the number of hours I work. The rationale behind why a ‘contract’ job is awesome is because, according to the theory, the contractor is able to control how long it takes him to do his own job. He gets paid the same amount of money no matter how long it takes. So he can be a lazy slave who takes 40 hours to do barely anything at all, or he can be a productive slave who does that same amount of work in 20 hours and then has all that free time left over. This was always the theory that I was taught. Hey! Total control over how long it takes you to do your job! You can choose to be more productive or less productive during your time on the job!

Well, this job doesn’t work that way. I get paid the same amount of money per week no matter how many hours I work. I’m required to be there at the same time other people are there so that I can cooperate with them, and have no choice about the time. There is nothing I can do to make my job more efficient so that I can get it done quicker while being paid the same amount of money. I can’t afford a robot that will do my job for me, either.

If Freddy wants to fire me for this, then, wow! He’s suddenly able to get the dishes all done by magic, when it was, woe is me, SO HARD to find a dishwasher to help me out, all this time.

Some of the risks that I am taking depend on information that I receive about Agustin. Is he quitting? What is wrong with him? Where is he? If he’s quitting then I might as well take risks because nothing holds me to this job except him. I love the others, in a way, but not like him.

So I’m going to do some calculations and write some stuff down.

This has an unfortunate Romeo-and-Juliet feeling about it now. Agustin and I are unable to communicate with each other in order to make decisions, so we are taking actions on our own that influence the other’s decisions without being able to clarify exactly what is going on. I have no idea what Agustin is thinking or doing and why he’s missing several days of work. I have no idea if he’s ever coming back. His absence is affecting the risks that I am willing to take and causing me to be in a very – a certain kind of mood, a decisive mood, a mood where I realize that nothing matters except him, with regard to this job.

I will probably write a note to Freddy because it’s impossible to explain anything to him without being constantly interrupted. He physically interrupts me the whole time I am trying to talk, which makes it impossible to think, impossible to retain my train of thought, and impossible to even make him hear what I am trying to say. If Agustin is gone then I will just take a brute force approach, take several additional days off until I’m down to about 40 hours a week, and screw over a few other helpless slaves who will be burdened with all the work that I would have been doing, and then get paid a ridiculous amount less than I ought to be paid for the remaining 40 hours that I am actually working. At that point, I can decide again what to do.

The other not very likely scenario, ha ha, is that Freddy will actually agree to give me a much larger sum of money, while still having me here working over 60 hours a week or whatever I am working. The amount may vary. It may vary through a range where it’s a pathetic increase that doesn’t help at all, like, say, $450 a week instead of $400. I am going to calculate the large number it would be if I were paid time and a half. I don’t know offhand what that is. I will use the official minimum wage, estimate my approximate hours – I don’t have to be exact and I don’t really mind getting paid a fixed amount every week as long as that amount is a fair amount that compensates me for all the suffering I experience working overtime.

Note, that’s bullshit – the ‘fair amount’ is actually much, much, much, much, much higher than minimum wage, and the word ‘fair’ has absolutely no meaning in that sentence. If I don’t believe in land ownership, don’t believe in the banking system, and don’t believe in the legitimacy of our government itself, then the word ‘fair’ no longer has any meaning whatsoever. I do not know how to define the word ‘fair’ when I am not even sure if I believe that Freddy should be legally entitled to own a so-called ‘corporation’ – I might not even believe corporations should be legal. I might not believe he is entitled to occupy the space in which this business is run.

I definitely do not believe the cost of living should be as high as it is. I am in a college town. This entire town is fueled directly and indirectly through the college loan system, the very same college loans where they force you to pay it for the rest of your life even if you can’t get a job in your major because our economy is so distorted and there are no real jobs anymore except jobs as a dishwasher or waitress.

They charge infinitely high prices for rent to the students, but it affects all the townspeople who aren’t students as well. This money is imaginary money created within the banks by inventing loans out of thin air. Penn State then says, ‘Hey! I’m a college, and I’m super-rich now after demanding higher and higher tuition fees with infinite imaginary money being printed in a computer from college loans! I’m going to charge super-high prices to all the students to stay in the apartments around town, too.’ I don’t know where these college students get their money, but they seem to have infinite free money to spend in addition to their loans. And football brings in people and money to this town, too. All of the money comes from illegitimate sources.

So, anyway. After all that, I no longer have any meaning to the word ‘fair,’ when the entire system itself is unfair by design. I cannot tell anyone what a fair wage for my job ought to be.

Agustin – if he isn’t showing up anymore then this job isn’t worth going to. I really need to know for sure what he’s doing, or it will be a Romeo-and-Juliet maneuver. Oh, I quit MY job because I mistakenly believed you were quitting YOUR job, only to find out afterwards that you really weren’t quitting your job, you were just gone for a couple days and I panicked.

Agustin really does still desire me, he just can’t show it in front of the other people. He says things and does things to me that show it, in bits of Spanish that I can understand (‘te quiero, mi amor’ means ‘I want you, my love’), he gave me ice cream, and, he fucked me in the bathroom. I think that last one says it all.

So, well, I’m going to do some calculations.

Misheard lyrics in spanish

August 30, 2016

Puedo queso Sancho.

What the fuck? I can cheese, sancho

Cramps, bloating…

August 30, 2016

Probably going to start my period. The cramps are very mild, the kind I get the week before my period.

Something is wrong with both Agustin and Gerber. They’re not showing up.

Messages to Ebi also being blocked

August 30, 2016

More later. Ebi quit and isn’t answering texts. She had a problem with Agustin right before she quit. I told her he liked her and that’s why he was calling her a puta. She tried to talk to him. She may be in school, I don’t know.

Ascorbic acid in juice is giving me a rash again

August 30, 2016

I bought Apple & Eve’s organic apple juice yesterday. I’ve been having juice cravings since I quit coffee, so I wanted a lot of juice that I could drink all day long.

As usual, this apple juice has 100% vitamin C from synthetic ascorbic acid, which causes a skin rash at large doses. I’m covered in hives today, although they are not yet visible. If I keep on drinking it, I will have huge welts covering my entire body, which happened to me before from boxes of lemonade. As it is now, I’m just scratching itches everywhere constantly.

I learned in nutrition class years ago that vitamin C overdose causes a rash. However, there might be more to the story. Just yesterday I read on another alternative medicine web page a comment written by somebody who mentioned that shiitake mushrooms contain a toxin that will cause a rash if you eat them raw. Isn’t ascorbic acid made from mushrooms? Maybe there are more mushrooms that contain toxins that produce a rash, and the rash from ascorbic acid isn’t just from vitamin C overdose, but from mushroom toxin residues.

This is why synthetic vitamins are almost always bad for you.

Now for the next one – conspiring to procure slaves from foreign countries and working them to death

August 30, 2016

But I’m not going to write that one now, not a real article, just some quick thoughts. I have to get ready to go to work earlier than usual today.

Quick thoughts:

I don’t want to keep people out of the country. In fact I love these people and I love foreigners. I wish we had more of them, not less of them.

They do need jobs and they need to earn more money than they can in their home country. Their home country is, invariably (it doesn’t matter which country they came from, this is universally true), destroyed by invaders who ruin their traditional
hunter-gatherer-subsistence farmer-herder-fisher way of life, and replace it with nothing, then fill their country with corporations that exploit local resources. Yummy Guatemalan bananas! I bought bananas the other day and noticed the label saying they were from Guatemala.

They come here to try to earn that money so they can help their families survive in their devastated, war-torn home country.

Somebody gets the idea to go bring these people into the USA, transport them somehow, inform them that this opportunity exists, bring them across the border, sometimes illegally, or they bring themselves illegally. Other times, they might decide on their own to come here, and pay for their own transportation and their own paperwork and cross the borders legally.

However they got here, legally or illegally, bringing themselves or having someone else make an arrangement to bring them – almost always these people are physically and mentally healthier, and work harder and longer hours, than ‘American’ workers do. Americans are unhealthy as a result of many factors which are so well known to the alternative health community that I won’t even go into any detail – vaccinations, Weston Price deformities, malnutrition occurring simultaneously with a high calorie diet so that they don’t die of caloric starvation, but suffer terrible nutrition; prescription drugs being universally prescribed to everyone, and so on. These American workers can never work as hard as the foreigners. The foreigners never get sick, never need sleep, never give up hope, never demand that they be paid what they deserve, and so on.

These people will work their entire lives this way, and actually, their health and lifespan will always be better and longer than the American workers. They live longer and remain a healthy weight for a lifetime, merely because they were born in a foreign country and lived their childhood in a foreign country with either no vaccinations or a different set of vaccinations, no drugs, different foods, and other factors. Once the body is formed a particular way, it remains formed that way for a lifetime. A badly formed body will always tend to be sick and malfunctioning for a lifetime and will have a short lifespan.

The Guatemalans are small people, tiny people, most of them. But is there a benefit to hiring tiny people? These people are actually very nimble and fast moving and they need fewer calories. A large, heavy person moves slowly and needs a lot of calories merely to move their own weight and merely to keep their own cells alive in their body. I don’t normally talk about ‘calories’ because that concept is so horribly misleading, but this is one situation where it’s just easier to say the word ‘calories’ to simplify the idea. Anyway, they are so fast moving they can actually do more work in less time than a large, heavy, slow moving ‘American’ worker.

The downside of hiring small people – none of the equipment is ergonomic for small people. You have to cut things from an
uncomfortable height. I hate the heights of all the tables and places where I have to cut things, and I have always desired a table that was shortened so that I could bend over it in an ergonomic position for my height (5′ 2″) while cutting and chopping things. I feel that my arms and elbows and shoulders are in a bad position while cutting unless I put the cutting board on something lower than a table.

Anyway…. these foreign people will live their long lives never suffering any illnesses that American workers suffer from, while working longer harder hours and producing more per hour. What’s not to love about foreign workers? They are perfect in almost every way.

I know there’s something sinister here, I just can’t quite put my finger on it yet….

Do these people suffer when they are made to work long hours? Are they made aware that it should be optional, that they should have the power to choose and control their schedule? Does anyone advocate on their behalf whenever they desire to reduce their work hours? Does anyone help them seek lower cost housing? Are people taking advantage of them because, maybe, some of them might be illegal, so they fear they might get deported or thrown in prison or have some other bad thing happen to them? Does anybody threaten them or manipulate them to think that they have to do what they’re told or else they’ll be deported?

Maybe foreign slaves who are here legally don’t have that problem, but not all of them are here legally. The illegal ones are the easiest to manipulate. Do every little thing I tell you to do, or else I’ll have the government come here and throw you in prison because you don’t have a green card (or whatever kind of card it is).

The ones who are here legally, who can’t be manipulated by threats of deportation, end up being merely extremely hard working people who never achieve a sane work-life balance. They take it for granted that working 80 or 100 or more hours a week is a normal and perfectly fine thing to do, that there is nothing more to life than this, that nobody should ever expect or demand a better life, that maybe a
hunter-gatherer community actually had better health and greater happiness and better quality of life than this. They will go their entire life that way, and nothing will ever come of it – nothing bad will ever happen to them, and they will never suffer a single illness, and they will live to a very old age. I have seen it before.

Then, some of them, like Nam from Korea who used to work at
McDonald’s, was that exact sort of insanely hard worker, working an undesirable shift (overnight), always reliable, never missed a day, but started living an unhealthy American life after she got here, and as a result, ended up having surgery to get both knees replaced. The surgery on her knees had such horrible results that she could hardly walk afterwards and she quit her job – she was unable to go back to work ever again as a result of having knee replacement surgery. She was no longer a productive slave, so everyone forgot all about her and she vanished from the universe. Nobody cares about you unless you are a profitable slave. I don’t know where Nam is now. Somewhere. I hope she’s doing okay.

I have to get ready for work soon. I actually don’t fully understand this particular conspiracy yet, and have no real insight into it, nor any factual data about it.

The Conspiracy To Avoid Paying Overtime

August 30, 2016

I’m actually writing this quickly and practicing sending post tags by email. So it’s not as good of an article as it deserves to be. I’m also not using caffeine or ginseng or any other herbal drugs so I am not very mentally focused right now.

How the conspiracy to avoid paying overtime works:

A huge number of companies are engaged in this collusion, even if they don’t directly discuss it or plan it with each other. It’s a conspiracy-by-result. The result is conspiracy, even if you can’t point your finger to this individual or that individual who
deliberately engaged in the conspiracy. It results in a lack of available options and alternatives for everybody everywhere at the same time.

One business decides that it will never pay anybody overtime, because overtime costs too much. You’re supposed to pay ‘time and a half’ for all the hours worked over 40 hours. So if you worked 60 hours, that’s 20 hours of overtime. If you normally get $8 an hour, you would get $8 x 20 hours x 1.5 (time and a half) = whatever, $240, plus $8 x 40 = $320.

Businesses prefer not to do that. They would rather forbid all their employees from working more than 40 hours (or, alternatively, work them more than 40 hours, don’t bother paying them overtime, and then bribe local officials who are supposed to regulate this kind of thing, because bribery is cheaper than paying higher wages).

But since the cost of living is so high, people absolutely must have higher wages, or else must get a second job, and must work more than 40 hours a week. The 40 hour week cuts people off at a particular maximum weekly pay. When employers forbid you to work more than that, you’re stuck with that maximum number which is never enough to live on. You either get a second job, or get some kind of government welfare payments.

All of the businesses in the entire town will simultaneously refuse to give anybody overtime pay. All employees are forced to go get a second job somewhere else, or tolerate working extra hours without getting overtime pay (at jobs that bribe local officials so they can avoid complying with the law). If every single employer does this, nobody has to pay overtime, and they also don’t have to bribe anybody. Every employer just hires the people who are looking for second jobs in addition to their job at some other local employer who is refusing to give them overtime.

The result of this is that nobody anywhere can find any jobs that actually pay overtime. It is only a small minority of jobs that do. Everyone has to continue working 80 hours a week at the same minimum wage without getting overtime pay, and there are no other options available because all the businesses in the entire town are doing the same thing. The businesses that do pay high wages and overtime have a tendency to be startup companies operating on borrowed money and venture capital, and they quickly bankrupt themselves and shut down.

The other businesses that pay high wages are mega-companies that I won’t talk about now – they can afford almost anything, and they can pay dozens of people to sit around all day doing nothing (I’ve been there, I worked at temp jobs where this happened, where I was the only person doing any actual work, while all the other people, usually women, sat around doing nothing and chit-chatting).

Conspiracy by result. Even if nobody got together and discussed this, it just so happens that the entire town, or the entire country, has all agreed to do the same thing, without allowing people to find any alternatives.

Why is overtime so important?

Because when you are working 80 hours a week, you totally lose the ability to take care of yourself or control your life. You have to do things like eat restaurant food for every single meal all day long, take taxicabs to get to work if you don’t have transportation, and so on. The *cost* of working goes up. It starts to cost you so much money just to go to work every day that you would actually profit more by working fewer hours and doing things to reduce your costs, like cooking at home. No one cooks at home when they are working 80 or 100 hours a week. The cost to your health of not getting any sleep is much worse than people realize – it prevents your brain from functioning, it prevents you from having any insight into your own life, it prevents you from self-growth and self-development, it keeps you stuck in stagnation, in a rigid life where nothing gets fixed. You have no time to run any errands, no time to rest, no time to have fun, no time to do any hobbies, no time to learn or study. If you are going to sacrifice your entire life just for your job, then you had better be making an extra-high wage to compensate for it.

At my current job, my underpaid overtime isn’t even optional, it’s mandatory – there is no one else who can take my hours if I need time off. In addition to the hours that I spend working, there are also the hours that I spend away from work doing work-related things, such as riding the bus or getting ready for work in the morning. All my work-related activities go from about 8am till 11pm (15 hours), 6 days a week. Sometimes I can get done earlier than that in the evening. It takes a while to ride the bus to and from work, which is a work-related cost of time, and also money for the bus pass.

No me gusta la raita

August 29, 2016

It took an hour and a half to make raita. I had to stop for a while to wash dishes. A machine must do this. A fucking food processor and some kind of press. I have more to say on this later. We wring it in towels by hand. I don’t care if wringing it in towels is traditional and they’ve done it that way for thousands of years.

sausage party

August 29, 2016

I knew that would be a good movie. It took a lot of struggle to watch it, as the web page kept malfunctioning (I have absolute zero chance of watching a movie in a theater right now). I’m just going to tell spoilers. The ending – going into another dimension, through a stargate, to see the real world where the puppetmasters are
controlling us – Yes, I sort of agree and sort of disagree. I don’t like to take it too literally the idea that we are living in a simulation, because I don’t want to encourage people to think it’s okay to die. Eventually it will be, I just don’t want people to die sooner than they absolutely have to. I prefer to assume that whatever is controlling us, it’s here in the ‘same dimension,’ whatever a ‘dimension’ even is, and for the time being, we can only fight back against it within this dimension, no matter how small and powerless we are. I assume we have to find out where it’s coming from, research it, understand it, use technology to understand it to the best of our ability, before we even assume we know what it is that’s controlling us, or who it is, or where it’s coming from. The movie is actually pretty deep, but I’d have to watch it without the web page
malfunctioning every few minutes, and also, I couldn’t hear a lot of what they were saying because the headphone jack no longer works on this computer – it got hacked. I wrote a blog about how I loved a piece of music I was listening to, and that day, the headphone jack stopped working and never worked again. You’re not allowed to love music because it leads you to your socionic duals. They don’t want us to dualize. So I can’t hear anything on this computer and have to watch it with subtitles, and they don’t have those yet for this movie. I’ll watch it again someday when I feel like it and when I have free time.

quality bonding time with Jesse’s girlfriend

August 28, 2016

I’m totally not being sarcastic, I’m being serious. Jesse called on the phone and I talked to Anastasia again as well. This time she didn’t seem like an ENTj, she seemed more like a perceiving type. I can’t type her, but usually when there’s someone who I really can’t type, they turn out to be a Gamma NT. I honestly don’t know what type she is. ‘The voices’ sometimes try to type people for me. It’s really hard to type people beyond just figuring out if they are a perceiver or judger. This is also one of the most visible things in Dario Nardi’s brain scans, although he fucks everything up by doing the J/P switch for introverts, which is so fucking technical and so fucking wrong I don’t even want to explain it. Suffice it to say that in his books you have to change the J to a P and P to J for every introvert. aglasjg;aslgkjpqrtu s . That’s how I feel. Anyway, you can actually see judging and perceiving by looking at the brain scans.

So, she’s cool and I like her. We actually talked for a while, sometimes Jesse and sometimes her. She reminds me a bit of Eric’s girlfriend, Eric my housemate, and ‘the voices’ said she was an ILI-INTp, but I don’t know if that’s right or not. She is quite different from me, but at the same time, a ‘lookalike,’ so that it’s hard to decide whether she is an INTp or ISTp. It is actually hard to tell lookalikes apart unless you are very experienced at typing people. The tests give you lots of wrong answers, so for instance, I bet you some money that if Agustin took an online personality type test he might get ‘ENFP’ as the answer, and that’s wrong, he’s definitely a sensor. I got INTP on those tests, and that’s wrong.

Anyway, this is an example of how I believe in polyamory. I don’t just permanently break up with a boyfriend for cheating on me, and I don’t like to use the word ‘cheating.’ This is a harsh world that we live in, full of evil, full of slavery, making it impossible to survive. The more we can group together and help each other, the better off we all are. If we can have love relationships with multiple partners who all get along with each other and all contribute to the household and all help raise the children, that is stronger and better than a ‘nuclear family’ with only one husband, only one wife, and their children. It also helps with the problem of imperfect relationships, where people love each other but can’t completely give each other everything they need. One partner gives one kind of thing, and another partner gives another type of thing. If I need gentle hugs I go to one person, if I need hot sex I go to another person, and so on.

However, when you’re first developing a new relationship, it’s a bad idea to try to bring in a whole bunch of new people all at one time. You do have to invest in making one relationship secure first. I still feel very insecure with Agustin, so I’m jealous when he looks at other women or talks to them or about them. However, I’m not so jealous or threatened with Jesse. It causes me some pain, but yet, he is so far away and I want him to be happy and to have friends and love and be comforted, because I care about him, so I accept his other girlfriend because I love him. Would I rather have Jesse out there abandoned and alone with no comfort?

The cat is meowing. I don’t know what he wants.

The process of doing everything takes forever.

August 28, 2016

It took forever to wake up and get out of bed. I just wanted to sleep forever. Then I took a shower, which took forever. Then I combed my hair, which took forever, while simultaneously doing a load of laundry, thank god, which took forever. Now the laundry is done. I had to order food, which took forever, partly because fucking Red Lobster doesn’t deliver to where I am! I had to figure out how to use the OrderUp web page, and got frustrated and just ordered Edible Shit from Domino’s, just because it was faster and easier to use their web page. I can still try again to use OrderUp but I didn’t want the particular restaurants that delivered to where I am. Now I have to Comer Mierda again. I am so so sick of eating horrible, horrible garbage. I’m supposed to be deciding what to do tonight. Decide where to live, how to get a reasonable work schedule, how to survive, how to maintain my sanity, how to change my life to accommodate my permanently destroyed hips, my permanent physical disability.

I do recall that my hips improved when I was able to eat vitamin K2. I was trying sauerkraut. I also had to get sunlight. You can’t take vitamins – all the pills just don’t work and contain toxic substances. You have to get it from food. I need my healthy foods and I need them right now. I need grassfed butter and the other stuff that I know about from Weston Price and all that.

I am sick of all the pro-caffeine TROLLS!

August 28, 2016

Caffeine is NOT OKAY! Not even one cup! I’m doing google searches and all the paid pro-caffeine trolls are on top. How is ONE CUP okay, but NOT TWO CUPS!!! Is there this fine dividing line between the EXACT AMOUNT of caffeine in one cup of coffee, and the EXACT AMOUNT of caffeine in TWO CUPS of coffee? Do you see how infinitesimally small that difference is? 90 milligrams, versus 91 milligrams – one is good, one is bad? The exact dosage is so specific and so precise that we are able to know within a single milligram how much caffeine is needed to harm the baby. It’s either ON OR OFF. You are either NOT HARMING the baby AT ALL with ONE CUP, or else you are DOING SOMETHING HORRIBLE to the baby with TWO CUPS. Seriously people wake the fuck up!!!! This is fucking TROLL TERRITORY!! These people are all being paid by the coffee companies, all of whom profit from getting you to continue drinking ONE CUP A DAY and thinking that one cup a day is fine, but not two cups! One, but not two! 90 milligrams, but not 91 milligrams! A sharp dividing line between one and two!!! Can’t you people SEE that we don’t have THAT MUCH PRECISION IN OUR
MEASUREMENTS????? can’t you people see that people are being PAID to convince everyone to continue drinking coffee, as long as it’s only ‘one cup a day,’ because that keeps you addicted forever, and you will keep buying it, and as long as you’re drinking one cup, you’ll have cravings for more, always, always, craving more coffee, because ONE CUP ALWAYS TRIGGERS CRAVINGS. ALWAYS. THEY WANT YOU TO KEEP CRAVING IT. AAARRRRRGGGGHHHH!!!!!

I’m trying to order decent food, but OrderUp tells me they don’t deliver to my address! I thought there was hope! I thought I could order food that wasn’t garbage! There I was trying to order healthy food delivered to my home, only to be told they don’t deliver here? What the fuck!!! Now I have to eat shit again! I’m ordering Domino’s because at least they deliver here and I’m so impatient now that I don’t want to mess around with looking for alternatives. I just need someone, anyone, who will deliver here. Why can’t some restaurants deliver to some places? That makes no sense. It’s all delivered by OrderUp! Now I can’t get healthy food and I have to eat garbage for the 500th week in a row!

No, don’t plan a fake fight.

August 28, 2016

Just because I did that this one time doesn’t mean I will do it every single time a fight is going on. Gerber and Carlos were fighting one day and I was tempted to break it up, but decided there was no real threat and just ignored it, though I was irritated and it went on for quite a long time and it was also disturbing Arturo. Don’t try to plan some way that you can fake-fight and make me get involved in it and try to break it up. I already know you people are reading my blog. You better not have any REAL fights either because I will just ignore them too. This was a rare and unusual event that is not going to just happen every day.

Circus peanuts, rancid milk, and breaking up a fistfight with a Jesse lookalike

August 28, 2016

I bought these ‘circus peanuts’ at Sheetz because I remembered them from my childhood and wanted to taste them again, for nostalgia. It’s these big, weird, bright orange candies made out of some kind of soft, squishy material, sort of like a marshmallow. I tasted one of them, and I was like, ‘Eww! These are disgusting!’ I used to LOVE those things. Now, they taste like chemicals. I am used to eating an all natural healthy diet with no artificial flavors or colors, and often, organic food. I can probably live without that particular piece of nostalgia. I’m not missing out on much.

I think I found out where the rancid fat came from which is giving me charlie horses. I am occasionally buying small red bottles of whole milk at the store, and it’s factory farm milk, because there aren’t any organic milks or grassfed milks in small single serving bottles at these particular stores. Horizon Organic makes single serving milks but they are not here. I brought one home and drank it this morning, then took a nap and woke up with charlie horses. I’m drinking bottles of milk to help me quit coffee, because part of the craving for coffee is also a craving for milk products.

Amazingly, I am still caffeine free and I haven’t been taunted by cravings yet, not very badly. I think sometimes I have been mind controlled in the past to decide to get coffee after several days without it. But maybe this time was different because I thought I was pregnant, so I had a really good reason not to drink the slightest bit of caffeine. Even a single cup of coffee each day will make your baby extremely underweight, so it is malformed.

I’m still at risk, though. Now that I’m pretty sure I’m not pregnant, I might not care about drinking caffeine, especially if I start to believe that I will never have sex with him again in the future. I wasn’t able to stop drinking caffeine even though I knew it was contributing to bone loss in my hips. I couldn’t stop it if only for myself.

It was last night after work. I was sitting and waiting for the VN bus. Across the street, some people started fighting. A few more people joined in trying to break them apart, but couldn’t. Someone said, ‘He won’t let go of him!’ It went on for several seconds as I watched, and it wasn’t stopping. ‘Come on! We’re leaving! We’re going home!’ some of the friends shouted, but the guys kept fighting.

I have this fascination with breaking up fights. I did it in the workplace many years ago at Kentucky Fried Chicken. One coworker was scheduled to take his lunch break, but then another guy jumped in and said he was going to take his break at that time instead. It was some kind of misunderstanding – the other guy didn’t know the one guy was supposed to go on break, or something. The one guy was hungry, irritable, and wanted a cigarette, if I recall correctly, and he started pushing the other guy around and shouting at him. I physically walked in between them and put my hand on each of their chests, which stopped them from fighting. One guy walked away, and then I had a talk with the other guy to ask him what the problem was.

People almost always don’t want to hit a girl. The only men who will punch a girl are people who are on so many drugs that they just don’t know what’s happening anymore, like people using bath salts, or else a man who is angry at that particular woman because he is having a fight that directly is with her. In other countries, people throw acid onto women’s faces, which is something different. There are places where violence against women is much more common. (Electronic weapon attacks against women are very common here, however.)

So, I suddenly walked across the street into this group of people who were all grabbing the guys and trying to pull them apart. One guy had his arms around the other guy and was holding him in place and not letting him run away. His arms were around the guy’s neck, but the guy was able to talk so he wasn’t quite strangling him yet. All these people reaching in and grabbing them were not able to wrench his arms open to make him let the guy go.

I had no idea what happened and no idea who was at fault. I crouched down and started gently petting the guy who was holding onto the other guy and I said quietly, ‘hey, hey, hey, hey, it’s okay, it’s all right, it’s okay,’ while petting him. His eyes were staring blankly up into space with an expression of shock, not because of me but because of the fight, and he had blood in his mouth and a broken tooth. His facial expression, I cannot describe. He looked lost and confused somehow, badly shaken, traumatized.

I suddenly realized that his face looked exactly like my boyfriend Jesse in the army. I felt like I was comforting a fallen soldier. He looked like Jesse, except he was much larger and much heavier, a very big, tall, muscular guy. The face was distorted but still
recognizable as Jesse.

I kept on petting him and quietly muttering to him, just comforting nonsense, it’s okay, it’s okay. Some guy in the group said, ‘Who are you?’ and pushed on me a little bit. He sounded like, this is not supposed to be happening, where does this fit in, you’re not allowed to be doing this, this is breaking the rules. But he didn’t push me away, and I didn’t answer him, I just went back to petting the guy, and if I recall the guy said, ‘Yeah, who are you???’

He was starting to notice that something else existed other than this guy he was grabbing onto. I continued petting him, which was causing a lot of confusion. He let go of the guy, who dashed off across the street into the darkness. At that moment, I stood up, clapped my hands together once and said, ‘Okay,’ and then I walked back across the street to where I had been sitting before, picked up my apple juice, and started drinking it.

The crowd of people drifted away. I heard one of the friends say, ‘SOmebody’s lost a tooth!’ Then some guy was explaining to somebody else what happened. I think he was explaining it to a manager of the bar that they were in front of, or something. It wasn’t a police officer. A few minutes later an ambulance came and I think a police car came. The ambulance parked in a nearby lot and I don’t know who actually went into the ambulance.

I got on the bus and went home, but started crying when the bus was almost at my stop. I then started crying and crying, bawling my eyes out, as I rode my bike home and as I walked the bike up the last hill to my house. I go through a little neighborhood because there is a curve in the road there that is extremely dangerous and a bike rider got killed there – people come around the curve and they can’t see someone walking or biking on the side of the road there, and they come in really close to the edge of the road. So I go through ‘Hemlock Hill’ or something like that, I forget, the little neighborhood, just before that curve.

I was crying the whole time after I got off the bus, crying really hard, because that guy’s face looked exactly like Jesse. It wasn’t merely because I saw someone who looked like Jesse, it was Jesse in a state of shock, injured, beaten up, confused, lying on the ground staring up into space with blood in his mouth. I tried to remember if I had ever seen such an expression on Jesse’s face. I was with Jesse during a few times when he was traumatized, but I don’t remember him ever looking like that.

Then I started wondering about the consequences of what had happened. I had no idea about the fight. The voices in my head started suggesting that maybe I had made things worse, maybe I should have let him kill the guy. He really hadn’t seemed like he was killing the guy, he seemed like he was holding onto him and not letting him go, maybe for a purpose. The voices said, maybe he wanted to hold onto the guy and not let him escape, so that he could get the police to arrest the guy for breaking his tooth. Maybe I ruined that by distracting him so that he would let go.

Then the voices were portraying the guy and acting like he said, ‘an angel saved me from killing someone.’ I don’t know if that’s what he really thought or not – the guy wasn’t being strangled, just firmly held around the neck and body so he couldn’t get away. He actually said something, he said, ‘I’m still able to talk,’ right when I was first arriving over there.

I wondered if they went someplace else, if they got away, if any of them got arrested. Maybe I gave them a chance to escape so that nobody got arrested and nobody got in trouble with the police. But I wonder who went to the ambulance?

I don’t know the consequences of what I did, and I don’t know what would have happened if I had just watched it and ignored it like all the hundreds of other people walking down the sidewalk. Some girls had shouted at them to stop fighting, but then kept on walking. I think the police would have come to them while they were fighting and maybe he would have successfully gotten the other guy arrested for breaking his tooth. I probably really did ruin that plan by distracting him.

My fascination with fights: doing strange things that nobody else will do makes me feel like I am a special person, a ‘larger-than-life’ character or some kind of a saint. I actually enjoy doing strange things that violate social norms, and this was DEFINITELY violating a social norm. It’s kind of like when you’re a teenager and you have a crush on someone and you fantasize that it’s the apocalypse so that you have some method of getting you and that person together holding each other and comforting each other. I had that kind of fantasy – something I was too scared to do in normal life, I will do in an emergency when social norms are no longer important.

Jesse called me on the phone while I was walking home crying. He doesn’t call very often, and we don’t usually have a lot to say on the phone. He was calling from in the car with his girlfriend. She was talking too, on the speakerphone, but I couldn’t hear much of what she said. At one point she got on the phone so I could hear her. The dynamic of the conversation was slightly difficult and awkward, not merely because ‘she’s Jesse’s girlfriend so therefore I hate her,’ which is not true, but rather, because of her personality type. I decided she must be an LIE-ENTj, my supervisee and Jesse’s activator. She said things that I just had no answer to, things that were surprising and odd. She said a bunch of insults about Jesse, like he was a wombat-looking something something something. How do they even think of this stuff? A wombat? What is a wombat, even? I tried to talk to her for a few seconds. She wasn’t on for very long. It’s possible she’s his dual, too (ILI-INTp). I’m not sure.

Jesse was talking to me and I told him the story of what happened. The girlfriend – did he say her name was ‘Anastasia’ or something? was telling him to be nice to me because I was such a sweet person. He said maybe that guy was really him, from the future, which made me laugh – time traveling. Jesse gets really big, heavy, and muscular in the future.

At the end of the conversation he asked me if anything was happening with me. At that moment, I realized, something very odd had indeed happened to me recently – I had unplanned, unprotected sex with an underage Guatemalan short guy and thought I was pregnant for a day or two but then realized the ovum was too many days old and it was dead. But I didn’t mention any of that to him.

Today, I have decide what I am going to do. I will try to write it down so that I don’t forget it. I have to think of various scenarios about where I will live.

The voices in my head are PUSHING AND PUSHING AND PUSHING ME and nagging me constantly to write paper notes to GERBER, not just Agustin. They insist over and over again that I have to do something with Gerber. I like Gerber as a friend. He makes me laugh and I learn things from him. I learn words from him sometimes and I watch what he’s doing. I don’t feel sexually attracted to him, just fondness, warmth, and affection. The voices in my head have REALLY been pestering me about him lately.

There is something about the Guatemalans where the voices in my head have an opinion about it, and I agree with the voices. The voices are telling me that the Guatemalans, and other similar people from foreign countries, are all entering the United States and getting jobs here, only to find that they become these small, undervalued slaves who cannot find wives, cannot fall in love, cannot even easily find prostitutes, and they become slaves to money, always earning money forever but never finding love, and being neglected, abused, ignored, and isolated in a cold society where no one touches anyone and no one reaches out to them to make friends with them or learn their language.

I agree that this is happening. It is indeed a tragedy. I feel terrible for all of the people that this is happening to. They are so far from home, and they came from a world where people touch each other, people fall in love, people marry each other, people have kids, people socialize and have friends. Then, they come to this slave country, where you have no choice but to work, and work, and work, and work, with no time to socialize, no one who cares about you, no one who touches you, no one who even knows you exist, no one who speaks your language, no one wanting to marry you, no one wanting to have sex, no one wanting to have children, forever and ever to be alone working as a slave.

Are they earning enough money for it to be worthwhile? Are they able to send even a couple dollars home to Guatemala once in a while? It costs so much to live here that almost every penny they earn has to pay the rent. They don’t even have enough time to spend studying and learning how to speak the language. I know that it’s really hard for me to try to learn Spanish while also working at this job and having no free time and no sleep. It’s hard for them to learn English. And English is weird – it’s never pronounced the way it’s spelled, so if you hear a word, you can’t look it up to figure out what it is, because if you look up what it sounds like, you won’t find it (sort of like me being fascinated with the mysterious word, ‘werwu’ and ‘werwos’ and other variations, which must not be spelled the way it sounds, but which I think is something egg-related, huevo, based on what a web page said about South American slang). So I imagine they can’t spend a lot of time learning English.

I get the impression that all of them are able to speak a little bit of English, and are also able to understand it, but maybe not if the person is speaking really fast, and not if someone is impatiently rushing them to hurry up and say what they have to say. I’m able to speak a little Spanish but haven’t felt like there is a NEED for me to speak it. If I absolutely had to speak it for a life-or-death purpose I might be able to start learning quickly.

I do hear them speaking bits and pieces of English and it always surprises me and catches my attention. They say random things out of nowhere, sort of like the way I wander around quietly mumbling Spanish to myself (last night I was singing ‘Cerramos, cerramos, te amo, cerramos, you’re only una hora away,’ to the tune of ‘Tomorrow’ from the movie Annie – we’re closing, we’re closing, I love you [the fact that] we’re closing. I was really, really tired and couldn’t wait to close down the store and go home. Surely I sound weird wandering around quietly mumbling ‘cerramos’ in a monotone, over and over, to practice the word, and mumbling ‘cerrar’ when I’m closing the door on the dishwasher, and so on.

I’ll finish this up. I need to do my thinking and planning and I don’t think it will be easy. I have to decide where I will live and what schedule I will work, if I change my schedule, and decide what I will do about money.

Not bad

August 27, 2016

It became not too bad of a night. I’m tired and slowing down and craving fruit juice.


August 27, 2016

The human body is like a radio antenna. It receives radio waves that travel through the air. The radio waves cause the nerves to transmit signals exactly like an antenna.

Last couple days, siesta was too short

August 27, 2016

When I withdraw from caffeine I need more and more sleep. I will stay in bed all day. I need to sleep right now. I’m not done with dishes but I might just quit now and take my break. There is smoke blowing around because we have a fan. I know we need a fan, but it somehow causes the smoke to go everywhere except up the hood vents where it is supposed to go. I am just going to ignore it since it will be freezing soon and we won’t need a fan. I think the smoke is making me tired too, but I am already tired and it will only get worse with every day of withdrawal. I have weeks and weeks to go before I stabilize.

I’m having a bad day

August 27, 2016

I can’t get to Agustin when Arturo is constantly talking to him, and Arturo is jealous, watching him like a hawk, and not stopping talking to him for even an instant. I’m probably being unfair because I’m in a bad mood and can’t talk to Agustin anyway. I need to hear what they are saying and then be able to participate in the conversation or mention something that was said, to just repeat back something. It’s just because of being unable to speak.