the blog of a bear

this is where a bear will post stuff.

selfish people

in response to an article I read, and a reminder to the TTC.

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I was scrolling twitter, and ran across
Blog shames TTC riders who take up extra seats
so I scrolled on over to this blog and while I agree with the centament, and the frustration, I don’t agree with some of the language being utalized. But since I can’t figure out the submission form, I’m just gonna post my thoughts here. Your comments in the comments section would rock. I’m blockquoting it because it was originally for that blog, but I couldn’t figure it out.

To those that crowd the front of the bus/streetcar when there’s clearly an entire back of said vehicle available. Kindly do us all a solid and move back and park your rear in an available seat, or hey you can even stand back their to! miracles! Oh, I’m sorry, that would be common curtisy. and some ttc riders are so all and mighty they’d rather not actually be curtius. DO not get me started on huge strolers, treatment of bus/streetcar drivers, etc. because I’d be here all day. Related: To you that think that not giving up a seat to a disabled rider is a good idea. how about you lose the use of your legs for a day and ride the TTC, then we’ll talk, k? thought so. In closing, learn you some common curtisy, you require one seat, put bag in your lap, or *gasp* under the seat, wear your children,leave the huge strollers at home, and use a smaller one. like duh, move to the back of the bus if it’s not crowded, or to prevent overcrowding, and if a disabled rider gets on, for the love of all that’s squeaky get your sighted non disabled bum out of the seat.

That’s all I have to say.
Comment away!

you actually went along with this? You stupid, stupid moron!

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Their are times when I ask myself what the hell is up with people in the world.
You actually
put your service dog
in the back of a taxi cab?
Here’s the article, then my own comments will follow.

Service Dog Forced To Ride In Taxi Trunk
Blind Woman Says Driver Gave Her Ultimatum
Marc Stewart, 7News Reporter
POSTED: 8:38 pm MDT June 6, 2011
UPDATED: 2:10 pm MDT June 7, 2011
DENVER — A blind woman says a driver told her she would have to put her guide dog in the trunk of his taxi if she wanted a ride.
Judie Brown says her black lab named Alberto isn’t just a best friend; he’s been her lifeline for the past four years.
“If something happened to him. I would just die,” said Brown.
About a month ago, Brown called a cab.
When she walked out front with Alberto, the driver from Union Taxi initially refused to transport her with Alberto.
“He said, ‘No dog in my cab,’ ” said Brown.
Brown said the driver told her he was allergic to dogs and would only drive her if Alberto went in the back of his cab.
“I asked him, ‘Where in the back?’ And he said, ‘In the trunk,’ ” said Brown.
Late for an appointment, she reluctantly agreed.
“I never hear my dog whine or cry. Ever. Ever. I knew it was terribly wrong,” said Brown.
Colorado law protects guide dogs and their owners, allowing them to ride together in taxis.
“A service dog is an appliance, similar to a wheelchair. Would you deny them a wheelchair?” said animal law expert Jay Swearingen.
A manager with Union Taxi tells 7NEWS the driver has been suspended and fined by the state.
But Judie is scarred and says she’s been afraid to travel with Alberto ever since.
“I’ve lost my independence. And I do not like it. It makes me angry. And I want it back,” said Brown.
The National Guide Dog Association says they get similar calls, three to 10 times per week.

Regardless of weather you were late for an appointment or not, if said taxi cab driver refuses to transport you make said taxi driver get lost, call your appointment tell them you’ll be late, and make alternate arrangements.
Their was no reason for this service animal to be placed in the trunk of a car.
This is as much her fault as the drivers fault.
The driver got suspended, great, but this individual, should lose her service animal, and never be allowed another one.
Comment away.
Let’s see the discussion roll.

FSU: (fmeeping) stupid university? Yes, actually, it is, thank you for asking.

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The last 4 days have been nothing but a fuck shit stack, with one quick break yesterday that lasted oh, an hour, maybe two? I’ll preface this by stating the obvious. I absolutely despise Fitchburg State University. Nope, not gonna lie. In fact if I still had this perspective legally blind freshman’s email anywhere in my files I’d email her from my personal account and tell her straight not to waste the state’s, or her parents’, money by coming to this hellhole. Someone decided on Monday they didn’t like my attitude. That’d be ok, if they, oh, I don’t know, *SAID SOMETHING TO ME ABOUT IT LIKE AN ADULT?* But nah. They bitch to disability services. Disability services bitches at me. Whatever. That’s over with. I refuse to deal with the individuals in question for a couple days because I was done with being treated differently and I damn near almost quit school right then and there. This causes a minor inconvenience to me, of course, but it’s not like I care, because in my mind I’d rather be inconvenienced than treated like an infant. So, whatever. Tuesday managed to go over without any kerfuckles, mainly because I stayed out of sight and literally only left my room to go to class, to the bathroom, and stepped outside once to pay a delivery guy. So yesterday I woke up feeling sort of like I’d been run over by a large vehicle. Ok, endocrine system, I get it, you suck, you hate me, stop telling me about it. this was quickly squelched with ibuprofen. Everything started out pretty nifty yesterday. I was all happy because Shane had thrown random surprises at me because he could, so I was bouncebouncebounce-ing off the walls for a good 3 hours or so. I sit down to do some homework and Blackboard decides it’d be nifty to pitch a major fit that included me metaphorically pounding my head against it for a good 3 more hours or so before all was said and done. I got out of my night class a whole hour and 15 minutes early, so everything was nifty. Nothing could go to hell from here, right? Of course it can! I walk back into the room… *sniff sniff, “Oh my god, what the fuck is that god awful smell?”* Sit back down and return to TeamTalk, because I’d left shane hangin’ there till I returned to class.
“I’m back, and something fucking stinks in here. A fucking gain.”
“Really? Like what this time?”
“Bad food again, I’m almost sure of it. I remember this particular brand of nasty from last time.”
So a few people walk in to visit the roommate, and I corner them and ask them if they think it smells in here. They of course answer yes, and the roommate tries to blame her boyfriend’s feet. It definitely was not foot odor. It was some kind of food product gone bad. Again. Keep in mind this is the same girl who left eggs in her fridge to rot for 6 weeks, had no clue, and tried to blame Shane, and say that he was unclean and didn’t shower. When that didn’t work she tried to say it was my rugs that stunk. Naturally this didn’t work too well for her either because I had someone come independently verify that there was nothing wrong with the rugs. This went on for 6 weeks, until we got back from spring break and she on a whim decides to clean out her fridge. Sure enough, rotten eggs, rotten food.
I complained to housing, who complained to disability services, nothing got done. Keep in mind this is after Shane and I complained to one of the RA’s while he was here that her belongings, which are spewing onto my side of the room, are creating a tripping hazard. So nothing gets done. Finally Shane busts the flip-a-shit-ometer last night, leaves a very pointed voicemail with the appropriate individuals that the room, once again, is smelly, nasty and disgusting. Little did I realize that he also had pictures that he took when he was here of the disaster that is this room. By this point, Shane’s boss has probably tanked the flip-a-shit-ometer himself. He’s followed us up through this whole disaster. I kinda feel bad for the poor dude, just another poor person that has to deal with this place and it’s rampant stupidity. But of course it doesn’t stop there. That’d be too damn easy. Because apparently somebody’s decided I’m responsible, 14 hours before a test, for them having the appropriate test materials and knowing how to use them. By this time all I wanna do is either strangle somebody or go to bed, which I don’t get to do until 2 AM because somebody decided that staying up till such time with the light on was the order of the day. So I get up this morning and I’m already apprehensive about dealing with disability services. They seem to have this inherent issue wherein, because I am reasonably competent with a computer, I’m supposed to be a walking, talking quick reference guide for any person who uses a screen reader who happens to need help. I stuff my face, I caffeinate, (twice mind you), and head over there. Our stats professor is literally loading the materials, which I had previously taken 15 extra minutes to go rechase and recompile onto a thumb drive for myself, (yes it did take that long, this computer’s a pain in the ass), onto the desktop, of the computer at disability services. I wanted to pound my head against the wall, but decided that sighing and rolling my eyes was a safer reaction and wouldn’t get me taken away in a straightjacket. Since when is it the professor’s responsibility to load the extra test materials onto the computer for us? And frankly, since when is it my responsibility to do Jaws training that I’m not certified, or paid, to do? A quick question here or there, I don’t mind. But a few short hours before a test, the individual in question should have already looked at, and figured out, the material days ago. I’m not a certified trainer, I’m not a notetaker, and I’m not getting paid to do either. So disability services, kindly stop expecting me to do those things. Shane left a very pointed voicemail with them about that, too.
I get out of my test, come back here, and find this wonderful email. You know, I was going to summarize it, but I think I’ll just press some buttons instead. and after that I think I’ll press another button or 3 and show you my response. So here we go.

Subject: MCB
Thu, May 5, 2011 at 11:19 AM
Show original
Hi Krista,
I was speaking with Cindy Hebert today and brought up the fact that you were working with a new counselor named Shane. Cindy let me know that you are in fact still working with her and that to her knowledge there is not a counselor at MCB named Shane. I am not sure who this Shane is that continues to call on your behalf, but I can no longer accept phone calls from him. Because of confidentiality I cannot speak to anyone that I do not have a waiver to speak with.
Thank you,
Julie.

Please keep in mind that I’d had quite enough of disability services’ crap this week already, and had Shane been on the grid I would’ve just whipped the message at his head before reading it. I almost quit on Monday, that’s how angry I was. Related sidenote: I am not 3. I do not need a straw put in my drink, especially if you’re not wearing gloves to do it. Anyway, my main bullshit filter was off the grid so I kinda borrowed James and he became my backup bullshit filter. Trust me, you didn’t want me to read the content of that message directly after a stats test while I was undercaffeinated. Some poor innocent fool may have died as a result. So at around 3:30 this afternoon, it was on. I tried to call her back, got one of the secretaries, said fmeep this noise, I want this in writing. And write, I did. More like beat over the head with a clue by 4, but my strengths are not with speaking, but with calculated writing. I cannot think fast enough to verbalize all I had to say here while processing being spoken to, so email was my happyfriend.

Thu, May 5, 2011 at 4:59 PM
Hi Julie,
Re: my alternate trainer, no, he does not work directly for or with
MCB. He is not being paid by them. He is not taking over Cindy’s job.
He is not a counselor, but an alternate trainer. Cindy Hebert is the
counselor, which essentially means she’s the one who pays the bills. I
send her my grades, MCB does their part. The alternate trainer is
there for the more day-to-day issues, (i.e., the fact that my laptop
charger has managed to die an hour before I finish this email), or, my
living environment is smelly and disgusting and it’s not my side of
the room because my side’s spotless and free of garbage. A similar
issue arose in February, and I later found out that the offending
party had eggs in her fridge for 6 weeks and they’d gone bad.) That
having been said, he does have my permission to contact you, and you
do have my permission to speak with him. If you need an official
looking piece of paper that says as much, one can be created upon
request.
Thank you for your time,
Krista

Needless to say, people have been, and will be, squished. You know what really pisses me off about this though? I can complain, whine, bitch, persist, irritate, annoy, advocate, generally jump down people’s throats while I’m living in a hazardous environment, and nobody does anything to help me. The moment someone whines to disability services that I took attitude with them, I get a slap on the wrist, and am basically told, “Bad child, go to your corner.” So I’m not allowed to be an imperfect human being and snap at somebody for treating me like an infant, yet it’s ok for my roommate, their workstudy student, to leave rotten eggs in her fridge and take over my side of the room. Can we say discrimination? Do we need to have another vocabulary lesson, children? I should hope not.

Petty Thievery, much?

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Some tweets from this morning hit my radar almost 19 hours later, and I feel I need to say something publicly. Over the past few months, Christopher Toth has developed and distributed Hope, a third-party application that allows a Windows user using a screen reader to access the popular Pandora service. He charges $10 US for the program, which, considering he’s a student and is doing this in his spare time, is pretty damn fair. it’s even more so when before he stepped in, this demographic was unable to use Pandora unless they also used a Mac, or an iPod Touch or iPhone. anyone who doesn’t already own one will tell you that spending upwards of $200, so they may have access to Pandora via an iDevice, though it has many other uses, is out of their budget. I’m in a constant state of broke. I get broke, I live broke, I freakin’ electrical taped my laptop charger so I wouldn’t have to blow approximately $100 on a new one. Now, let’s be honest. You may not like the developer. You and he may have had a history in the past, you pissed each other off, had a fucking teenybopper snit, whatever. Maybe you have a hair across your ass because he told you to, oh my god, read the Qwitter Readme, (which, by the way, is common sense. Download software, read the documentation). But there is no excuse as to why you cannot pull $10 out of your tight asses, to buy this program. If I did it, anybody can. Maybe the registration scheme isn’t the niftiest, most awesome and most secure thing ever, yet. I get it. But there’s no reason to be a tool and steal a $10 piece of software. If you’re that much of a spoiled brat and need everything handed to you that badly, then you have some serious entitlement issues.
Yes, I’ve punked (legal) copies of software off Shane before. Four pieces of software on this machine are legally registered to him. They’re either there because I’ll need them eventually, because I needed them on the *BOUNCE*, meaning, I couldn’t wait any longer for the Massachusetts Commission for the Blind to stop scratching their asses long enough to actually do their jobs, because they were put here to help fix the broken that is this computer, or, in one case, because shane thought one particular piece of software would make this thing work a little less like a brick than the other. Also, as some of you know, I share a dropbox with shane. Why? Because he has tons of space and said I could share. The difference, folks, is that most everything he gave me, if not all of it, is way the hell out of my price range! However, everything on here that is his, is legally registered to him, and he knows I have it, because in 3 out of 4 cases, he’s slapped the software on this machine himself. In his words, per my conversation with him as I write, “You have my permission to use it, the company *is* aware that it’s on your system. As I was using your system for a time, and felt it wasn’t to anyone’s bennifit to clean up after myself, you still have access to that software.” In other words, it’s legal, shut up, keep it, and like it. also re: The one thing he didn’t put on here himself that he handed me from 400 miles away, it became a matter of, I need this, because if the university’s networking policies eventually force me to make a certain upgrade, certain stuff of mine will be out of date and quite useless. We made the decision that him handing me a particular authorization for a piece of software was, for now, the best way to put a BandAid on the issue. What else was I going to do, learn a new screen reader in 2 days? Pull money out of my ass? Wait for a moneytree to appear? How about not? Now, if it were $10 software, I could simply go and buy it. However, there are certain pieces of software that cost more than both my parents make in a week put together. if somebody hands me a legal license, because I need that software, I won’t be kickin’ a gift horse in the ass. I will, as Shane’s fond of jokingly telling me to do when he does something major to help me out, “shut up and like it.” But people. Seriously. Hope’s a $10 piece of software. I’ve probably spent $10 in the last 2 weeks on caffeine alone. the developer may not be your favorite person, but that’s no excuse to publicly ask for a free copy of his software on Twitter. Would you like someone to do the same to you? Think about it. A little common sense and courtesy might get some of you a little farther in life.

as if I didn't have enough problems already, we add even more to the pile! roar!

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Oh yes, good morning ladies and gentlemen, and welcome to the stupid.
This is exactly what I wanted to wake up to on a tuesday morning.
As you all know, I’ve been out of work for some time now, and relying on the ontario disability support program to survive, while I find another job.
This is all fine and dandy, until
James
checks the mail, and runs across, this letter, from my case worker, cathy jennings, of the ontario disability support program.

1148 VICTORIA ST APT 1
PETAWAWA ON K8H 2E7
Dear SHANE DAVIDSON:
This letter is about the income support you get from the Ontario Disability Support Program.
Our office has received information that may change the amount of income support that you
receive. We received information that you may be working and not declaring your income. We need to talk to you about this information so that we can make sure that you are getting the correct amount of income support now, and that you received the correct amount in the past.
Please come to the office:
at 77 Mary Street, 3rd Floor, Pembroke, ON on April 4, 2011 at 9:00 am
Please bring the following with you:
• Statements and/or passbooks for all bank accounts for the period of December 1, 2010 to March 31, 2011
If you have difficulty obtaining any of the documents by the date of the meeting, please call the ODSP office.
It is very important that you attend this meeting. If you need to change the time or date, or need to meet in a different place, please call the ODSP office.
You are welcome to bring a friend, a family member, a trustee, an advocate (social worker, case manager) or another person you trust to the meeting with you. If you need an interpreter, please advise the ODSP office in advance so they can help you make the necessary arrangements for the meeting.
If you would like to talk about this meeting, the information we have requested, or your case, please call me at 613-735-1073 Ext. 204.
Sincerely,
Kathy Jennings
Case Worker
for the Director of the Ontario Disability Support Program
Legislative Authority
Sections 5, 45, 46 and 59 of the Ontario Disability Support Program Act Sections 12(1), 23 and 54 of the ODSP Regulation (General)

Here’s where I stand up and go, w….t…f?
It’s right here.

We received information that you may be working and not declaring your income.

I’m gonna remind you that the dates their requesting statements for seen here.

Statements and/or passbooks for all bank accounts for the period of December 1, 2010 to March 31, 2011

Oh dear, I *wasn’t* working, I was attempting to uproute myself from the financial ass raping, that’s still occurring to date.
I have a sneaking suspicion who pulled this, and you low life stupid pompus moron, I’ll remind you of one thing, your shit’s one day gonna come back and bite you square in the ass, and believe me I hope I’m their to watch and laugh.
Karma’s a goddamn bitch, and one day…. one day…. you’ll get yours you fucking moron.
This just makes me feell all warm and fuzzy inside.
Um, actually, it doesn’t.
Have fun on the comment boards.
update 8:34AM: I just called my case worker, and the tip came in annonymously, so now I have all the proof I need. it’s time to play hardball, you stupid son of a bitch.
update 9:00AM: a call to ontario works in hamilton has sparked a complete review of that person’s file, yes, karma’s a bitch.

It's… Cluetime! Again? Really?

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I thought I was done issuing clues to the stupid today? it’s almost 5 PM as I start this. I guess clue issuance doesn’t have office hours. Having said that, I guess stupid doesn’t either. And I take it those who issue clue don’t get sickdays? I could’ve taken one today. somewhere, one of you just asked, “Oh for fuck’s sakes, what could’ve possibly blown up now? Shane’s out of the country for Christ’s sakes!” Yeah, well of course he’s out of the country. but that doesn’t mean my family’s stupid license wasn’t revoked. Of course not. that’d be too easy. I’m digging through email again. Personal email. Translation: the address the family has. this can only end in cursing, right? Well, of course.
Over the past couple days, my mother seemed to have gotten some weed in her system, gotten the bug out of her ass, and started acting like a normal human being. she even cracked a joke in her last message about me buying her an iPhone for her 40th birthday. So you’d think that the stupid was if not gone, at least significantly curtailed, right? Excuse me while I pop your happy little bubble where everything’s perfect… Ah, there, that’s better. Incoming stupid! Duck and cover! (Note that the email address of the guilty party is not provided here for the author’s sanity and safety.)

Mon, Mar 7, 2011 at 4:08 PM
From: (My grandmother)
To: Krista Pennell
Hi Krista
Auntie called me last night and she wants to take you out to lunch for your birthday, I guess this weekend
she wants me to go too. Dad and I are happy you are coming home. Remember you can not bring Shane home
with you. I don;t want what happened for your birthday to happen. Email me back please
Love you

Now, let’s review, children, shall we?
When was Shane supposed to leave? tuesday.
When did he actually leave? Wednesday. We’ll blame Fitchburg State, the MBTA, and Greyhound for that, but that’s his deal not mine.
Who paid, more often than not, whenever we went to do something, whether it was traveling to New Hampshire to hang with friends, grab takeout because cafeteria food is meh, or go out to dinner by ourselves, without people whining they wanna go with us? that’s right, Shane did.
What did I contribute? I was able to pay for his food when his wallet walked off, give him a place to stay, and let him borrow my equipment while we waited for his to get here. (Thanks, asshole in Montreal, that was much appreciated. And asshole who jacked his wallet? Hell. Go there. now. Move). This trip was not under the niftiest of circumstances, as you well know, and as I’ve said before, we thank everyone who was able to pull it off the ground when it did go sideways.
that having been said, what the hell do I have to do to get it through people’s heads that he’s not taking advantage of me? Is my family really that overprotective, stupid, and unwilling to treat me like an adult that they’re hammering it into their own heads that he’s taking advantage of me? And how am I supposed to show them he’s not when they won’t give me the chance to? My mother, for one, complains that I don’t include him in anything. well, how do I do that when you won’t allow me to, you dumb ass? And grandmother, you know better. You of all people, know that I despise when people behave like that. You knew I didn’t want a birthday party, you knew it would’ve been too much for me to deal with. You knew I wanted Shane to meet everyone. I understand mother had a tantrum, oh my god, 2 and a half weeks ago, but that doesn’t give you the right to bring it up and throw it in my face. We’ve spoken of this before. I’ve told you I’m not going to be the old lady with 7000 cats just to make my mother happy and make her not have to, *gasp*, deal with people she may or may not like. the only person I’ve ever dated that she’s liked is cory. God forbid I date anyone else. she’s never liked anyone I’ve dated, with the exception of one guy, and that’s because his parents were filthy motherfucking rich. But he lived all the way out in Boston, and god forbid I be allowed to travel there. Oh, and he wasn’t necessarily college material either, so I guess the only reason she ever liked him was his rich family. Hell, she’s never really even liked any of my blind friends, again, with the notable exception of Cory. I know I referred in my last post to the poor guy whose family originated from Pakistan whom she ragged on so bad behind his back that I took pity on the poor kid and stopped talking to him. she never ragged on any of my other friends that bad, but when I hung around the few sighted people who would tolerate being seen with the blind girl in my early high school days, you could tell she was much happier about that. Take for example my friend Jay, who had one whole side of his face crushed by a jet-ski about 4 years back. He too, was blind. Did she ever rag on him, even if his face was scarred up all to hell? No. Did she rag on my friend who is wheelchair bound and only has partial use of one hand? No. All of these people have one thing in common, including Shane. That is that they all, somehow, look different. Hell, even I do. And we know she’s all over me constantly about my looks. So what the hell is her problem? Shane has done nothing to hurt me, nor has he done anything to her. When he met her, he was nothing but civil to her. And she didn’t give him any hell either. What seems to be the problem, now, and how the hell do I fix it? Given her previous history with friends of mine and people I’ve dated, how was I supposed to know she’d pull this on Shane? And why, suddenly, is my grandmother behaving like this? What’d I do to her? How’s he supposed to meet the rest of the family if they won’t remove their collective cranium from their rectum? Mother says she wants to see him included in things, and so do I, but how is that possible when everyone’s being stupid? How did they go from being accepting of this in November, to this attitude of disgust, now?
End brain vomit. Time to go get actual work done, now. it’s 7:35 and I’m still in an awesome mood because of that one email. Just… Meh. I hate people somedays.

my First post. Also Holy shit, the childishness, It hurts my brain.

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I am not happy, hence why shane has given me the floor, so to speak, as I believe he fears my head may actually explode. Normally, my Twitter account is my happy bitch, but 140 characters was not going to do this justice. I already almost squished some poor guy on my way to get the caffeine Wes told me to go get. Normally, I don’t do the blog thing. I’ve said before in my twitter feed that “It’s too damn time consuming, I’d forget about it and walk the hell off without even thinking. I’ve got way too much going on to worry about a damn blog.” Shane’s solution to the problem, instead of me blowing money on a domain I won’t use, is to give me author priveliges. That’s cool, that’s nifty, I can totally live with it. If something breaks, it won’t be mine to worry about. I just squeak, and it gets fixed. Kinda like I just had to do with my keyboard, actually. Whoops?
My keyboard just tried to do that cool thing wherein it tries to fall apart and Shane tells it, “No, sorry, you’re not dying yet.” oh yeah that was fun. Mostly blind me searching for a tiny plastic thinggy on the floor, wondering just how in the hell it was attached to the damn keyboard in the first place… Ah, yes, but that was just the perfect way to top this evening off, as if what I saw 10 minutes before wasn’t enough. You’re probably thinking “Oh for Christ’s sakes, what blew up now?”
Hell, I’ve got chocolate, I’ve got caffeine, I’ve got Pandora, and I got all night, let’s go. We’ll start from the top, as that’s as good a place as any. Shane, you’ll regret this, or kill me, one of the two…
First it has to be understood that my mother has never liked Shane. She took us both out to dinner, once, and was fine with him. Absolutely fine, didn’t even flip out too badly about him staying here with me. And Christ, my dad? My dad was cool with it! You’d think he’d be the one flipping a shit because some strange dude he didn’t know was living with his daughter for 2.5 weeks, but no. That, however, was in November. Shane left here, mid November, inadvertently leaving behind a prescription medication he was taking for his knee, and a bottle, which he was told was unlabeled, but was actually *inappropriately* labeled with someone else’s name, and looked like a prescription. Said bottle actually contained tylenol, but of course MotherZilla immediately labeled him a drug dealer in her head. Now, come on. anyone can make a mistake, and considering who Shane was living with at the time, it’s little wonder that they gave him a weird-looking bottle and lied to him about how it was labeled. I, for one, wasn’t surprised. A touch peeved at Shane at the time for sticking me in that situation, but I got over it. Anyone can screw up like that, it could’ve just as easily been me, leaving my prescription meds at his place if I went up there. This, however, is the princess. And…well… if you know me at all, you’ll know why I call her the princess. She hit a 20 on the flip-a-shit-ometer, lost her shit, and has never thought the same of him since.
We hit fast forward real quick to last week. I didn’t want a birthday party this year, unless shane could come. I wanted him to meet the family, and that, in my mind, was the primary purpose of a birthday party. Last year’s birthday festivities kinda broke my brain, tossed me on the ground, and ran over me with a truck, as they were sort of mandated by a death in the family. So I was kinda done with the whole OMG looky it’s a birthday, thing, and I told the family as much. Their listening skills are apparently that of a 3 year old child, with severe ADHD, after several sugar cubes and some Mountain Dew thrown in for good measure. So MotherZilla’s about to come pick me up last Friday. I ask her, politely, if shane could come, as I wanted him to meet everyone else. She hits a 50 on the flip-a-shit-ometer. During her tantrum, she also accused shane of playing a “game.” Said game, in her head, may or may not include him intercepting my voicemails and emails. We know he’s good, but he ain’t that good.
And then… tonight, the following happens.
I get back from my night class, grab Shane caffeine because he’s in the middle of a test, and sit down to do the last fly-through of student, (and unfortunately personal), email accounts. I know for a fact shane has posted about my mother’s 39 going on 3 attitude of late, because I commented on one of said posts, explaining it further. My mother’s always been somewhat of… well to borrow some words from one of my twitter followers… “a psychotic, neurotic, and unkind individual.” Some people may call her overprotective, but lately I just call it, “Holy fuck, the crazy, it burns.” and oh, does it ever burn. I’m flipping through mail, and I find… this.

wrote:
> If you need me to complete the FAFSA for next year financial aid, you need to let me know. Usually it is due 2-14 but you didn’t say anything to me and I just remembered, I haven’t even filed my taxes yet. I guess it doesn’t really matter anyhow since you can’t return any emails, texts, or calls from either Nana

My response to the princess’s latest bitchfest was a simple,

Yes Please.

I do not make any income. I do not, as of yet, pay taxes, as I, well, don’t make any income. She needs to fill out the FAFSA whether she feels like being a bitch princess or not, as the government needs to determine that neither she, nor I, can pull money out of our ass to pay for my education.
My grandmother also has it in her head that he’s taking advantage of me. I think not. He took me out to lunch the other day, (and made me late for statistics, thanks, dear). He also bought me dinner Friday night after my mother pitched her childish fit, and has either paid for himself, or we’ve used my university meal plan to pay for his food, the entire time he’s been here, even when his wallet up and fucked off. We went to WalMart the other day and it was, ” What do you want to eat? Speak up, because you need to eat, too, not just Rick and myself. And what do you need? And no, nothing is not the answer, because I’m sure you need *something*.” I mean, hell, even after I ran to get him a drink, and 15 minutes later grabbed myself one before I shot someone, he ran to get chocolate, and brought some back for me on his own dime. Does that sound like he’s taking advantage of me? Absolutely not. Shit, even when his wallet fucked off, the two of us actively pursued the means for him to stay here without anally raping my minimal resources with a spork, and we thank those of you who helped.
anyone have any ideas of what to do about defective family members? Unfortunately, they didn’t come with instruction manuals.

seriously…?

by 2 Comments

so according to vanessa, the twatwaffling hormonal sex deprived asscrack, she’s attempted to call krista multiple times, sent multiple e-mails, etc.
Except that part wherein she sent nothing.
Anyone wanna guess who the fuck she’s blaming this time? Yep, me, again.
I’m supposedly the cause of krista never getting her voicemails or e-mails.
I hate people, just… bleh.

a note to wining dream host customers, get you a clue, or 12.

by Leave a Comment

so this blog, among other things, including e-mail, is now hosted on
dream host
and a couple nights ago, their entire network infristructure went down for scheduled maintenance, and this was posted on their
status
twitter.

DreamHost Status: Network Maintenance: Friday, January 28th – 22:00 through Saturday, January 29th 02:00 PST http://dhurl.org/1io at 2:49:38 PM on 1/28/2011

so being the individual I am, I immediately visit the post, in the event I’m effected, and in
visiting that post
we see it’s tagged for 9:30PM.
Those of you with half an inkling of a clue about the power of
wordpress
will know you can future date a post, and it’ll show up as being posted at that date and time.
This is what dreamhost had done in this case.
The influx of fuckin’ winers after this post went up, supposedly 30 minutes before the network maintenance window, was outstandingly dumb!
These people supposedly have technical nowhow?
These people supposedly run websites and businesses?
You wouldn’t know it, reading the comments after that particular post even today over 48 hours after things went to hell and the maintenance went longer than expected.
People, a few things in list format, because I don’t feel like expanding my ideas right now and I’m undercafeinated and food deprived.

  • dream host
    can’t control if things go straight to hell and the network maintenance window needs to be expanded
  • secondly, dream host has better things to do than to bend to your every beck and call and issue you status e-mails when shit’s gonna fall over. this is why their
    twitter
    and
    status blog
    exist, and ohmygod, the status blog has an rss feed!
  • further to that, you are supposedly technical, and you have time to post comments and wine, follow the rss feed of that status blog, or create a rss feed of their twitter, ok? use that technical knowledge for something else then pissing off dream host. they might shut you down, except not, but the thought was their and needed to be said.

the long and short of this post is this.
You run a website, your supposedly technical, dreamhost has many a way for you to know about this stuff, and their twitters updated hella frequently, so for the love of cheese and bacon, use the resources available to you and quit wining!
I’m done, now.
food calls.
I do like comments, use them.

a small note to hamilton dweebs. wanna try that again?

by 2 Comments

Oh god, the stupid strikes again.
So on a wim I dial up the ODSP IVR, the thing that tells me how much money I’m getting, or not getting, depending on your side of the fence, and get simarily told your file’s currently on hold.
after the appropriate amount of WTF happens, I ping my ODSP worker and go, last time I checked my file was fine, what the hell’s going on.
in list format have these appropriate amount of wtf results.
According to certain individuals I’m supposedly, ready?:

  1. Married to krista.
  2. We have a child on the way because I supposedly had unprotected sex.
  3. I moved down their perminantly and didn’t report that to ODSP.

firstly, how the hell can I be married to krista when we’re not even engaged?
Secondly, a child? seriously? how the hell’d that happen, from 400 miles away? that’d have to be one long ass dick, ok? just… omg.
Thirdly? moved down their? really? except not. Wishful thinking, but sadly, didn’t happen.
So the result of that, kathy, my worker, now has to issue appropriate amounts of clue to get this fixed, and attempt to not die while laughing.
Kathy indicates this little implosion that is the stupid should be fixed by friday at the *latest*.
I was highly amused, in a, are you fuckin’ serious? kinda way.
The lengths some people will go to.
just, jesus christ.
Please do be not trying that again. You’ll fail, again.
unrelated: CNIB? *totally* blind is just that, totally, 0, no, sight, so take your low vision assessment and shove it up your ass. it’s not needed in this apartment. thanks for trying, though.