Category: Uncategorized

Super Tired and Sweaty

Managed to get out and get some pics of Three Lanes, Seven Alleys and Daming Food Street, but I was very uncomfortable. I think I am looking foward to the day when temperatures cool off a bit.

Maybe it was the lack of water. I usually carry a water bottle with me, but I was using a new handbag today. I usually carry a backpack, but that gets tiring. So I went with a handbag a former student got me as a gift. I really like it and it’s the right size to carry the basics around, but not big enough for a water bottle. Maybe if I’d rehydrated, I would have felt better.

Tired as I was, I made it to Campus Kitten today and got her fed and watered. She really attacked the Whiskas dry food, which makes me wonder if I’m her only meal for the day.

She’s not crying as much. So maybe the hunger is going away.

American Graffiti

My mother took me to see this movie when it was in the theaters. I really liked it, even though I was probably too young to enjoy movies like this. But my mother took me to movies that weren’t really aimed towards kids. Like Soylent Green, for example. Or Live and Let Die, which was my first James Bond movie.

The voodoo imagery fascinated and scared me. And it forever turned me into a Roger Moore James Bond fan. Sean who?

I was happy to see American Graffiti on YouTube. But it doesn’t really suit my mood right now, but there isn’t any other movie on the website that does.

Nostalgia and the past are wearing a groove in my brain right now. And I can’t allow that to happen. Some things about me haven’t changed and never will change, no matter how hard I try. And watching movies about high school remind me of the memories that linger; very unpleasant memories, and the feeling that I haven’t moved on, and never will move on.

Seeing Terry the Toad really gets me down. And the fact he disappeared in Vietnam makes me realize he never rose above his high school experience either.

Cozy at Home

After getting my errands done today and a nice, fattening meal at McDonald’s, and walking 12,000+ steps in very hot, sunny weather, I’m home. It’s pouring outside, and lightning and thundering, but I’m cozy here, in a cool, air conditioned room, with some ice cold water.

Sometimes, the best things are the simple things.

The Big Bitter Book: A Review

I hate self-help books. I read enough of them years back when working with a life coach. Never mind that I’d won a contest and the service was free. She had me read nonsense, so it was a revelation when I found a book that poked fun at the self-help genre.

However, I found out about The Big Bitter Book: How to Stay Bitter and Resentful through a group on Facebook, and my inner bitter bitch was screaming “YESSSS, YAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASSSSSSSSSS!” like I’d had the best orgasm of my life.

Because this SPOKE to me like nothing I’d read. I’ve been accused of being negative most of my life, and why the fuck not? It seems like nothing positive I visualize ever happens. The dream man never materializes; if a guy comes along, he introduces himself as a “date rapist,” as if that’s an appropriate ice breaker. Or else he dresses like a chronically homeless person, even though he isn’t. The schooling that I think will lead to better jobs doesn’t. The plan to move to a foreign country to get a better-paying job doesn’t quite materialize. As one of my friends pointed out, “I’ve never known anyone to try as hard as you do only to not have things work out.”

I thanked her for acknowledging that. I was beginning to think I was the only one wondering what the hell was happening. And WHY.

The author, Ian Rader, has been sober since August 28, 2015. So if you are a current or former substance abuse enthusiast/victim/advocate, you’ll get a kick out of the liquid relief references. Even if you never drink, and have a bit of a negative attitude, you’ll love this book.

But if you don’t understand sarcasm, stay away. Rader got his first negative review (and was proud of it) from some woman who not surprisingly, didn’t “get it.” She’s probably one of those types who feel adversity doesn’t kill you, it just makes you stronger. Yes, but all the stress probably will give you a heart attack and you’ll die young anyway.

Rader starts out by saying, “How I got here, and why you’re still the problem,” by noting all the self-help crap we’re being hit with on a daily basis:

“I need to start by saying this: the moment I began writing this godforsaken book, my algorithm completely lost its mind. One click. One accidental search. And suddenly every screen in my life turned into a self-help hostage situation. Facebook suggested I join an author mastermind. Instagram wanted me to “build a brand around my healing.” TikTok started screaming at me to “rewrite my story” through trauma-informed dance reels. Even Amazon was like, “Hey, have you read The 5 A.M. Soul Cleanse?” Every app became a spiritual intervention I didn’t ask for. And the more I looked around, the more I realized I was knee-deep in a digital landfill stacked high with books nobody asked for and advice nobody should follow.”

Rader did, for a while, but admitted it didn’t work. He tells you about what DOES work:

“Being bitter. Staying bitter. Living in the glorious emotional muck of real life and not pretending it’s a Disney redemption arc. Which brings me to recovery. Oh yes, let’s talk about the sacred texts. The 12-step scripture. Those neatly numbered paper cults that start with the idea that your life is “unmanageable” and you are somehow “powerless.” Excuse me? I wasn’t powerless. I was tactical.”

Because he’s been through the 12-step routine. And his book breaks it down for you, and why HIS plan is better.

Rader wrote a book for people like me, who try to be positive about things, but struggle, and struggle, and struggle. His references to streaming services made me chuckle, because for years I’ve been on a YouTube binge. I refuse to buy streaming services because I’m in China and I just can’t get some of them, even with a VPN. They KNOW I’m in a foreign country, so no Netflix or Hulu for me. Alright, YouTube it is. But wait—isn’t YouTube banned in China? Yup.

“So again, I ask, where’s the book for us? The ones who can’t do a vision board without breaking out in sarcasm. The ones who hear “your vibe attracts your tribe” and immediately attract a migraine. The ones who can’t meditate without spiraling and can’t listen to one more story about how someone found God in a gas station and now runs a company called Soul Glow & Co. This book is for the bitter. The emotionally dehydrated. The spiritually exhausted. The ones who wake up already annoyed and think “another day of unsolicited positivity. Fantastic.””

And this really hit me where I live:

“Real peace is driving a car 40 over the limit on an empty highway at 2 a.m., screaming and crying at a “Higher Power” that, let’s be honest, probably isn’t listening.”

So if you are a believer in God, stay away from this book. And from Rader: he probably isn’t interested in being saved anyway.

Rader is not afraid to point out the bullshit that is inescapable in our lives. He also has several little revenge tips that I don’t know if he has tried personally, but whoooooo. He rightly points out that he’s not sure this messy world can be navigated while sober. Which I understand. As I said earlier, I’m not a drinker, but I understand why so many people are on anti-depressants. Or addicted to food. I’ve noticed when I’ve eaten a particularly good meal or snack, things don’t seem as bleak. Or are substance abusers. They want that serotonin release to help us cope.

The book is full of little gems like these:

“As for revenge, well, that’s the most reliable higher power I’ve ever known. It never forgets. It never forgives. And it keeps me warm on cold nights when meditation apps fail me.”

And let’s not forget it’s a dish best served cold. Again, I was screaming, “YESSSSSSSSS, YAAAAAAAAAASSSSS!”

The book has 12 steps on becoming bitter, as well as four testimonials from people who claimed this book saved them.

Quite possibly the best thing about this book? Rader wants YOU to help participate in The Big Bitter Book Volume 2.

If you’re bitter, depressed, a substance abuser, hate self-help books, or just looking for a reason to go on, buy this book. I’m not being funny when I say this. But you’ll probably laugh your ass off at the feelings, descriptions, and situations in this book.

Buy it on Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B0FF44T1MM/ref=kinw_myk_ro_title

Exchange bitterness with the author here: https://www.instagram.com/thebigbitterbook/

Homeless, but Hopefully Not Hungry

I’ve discovered I’m highly sensitive to changes in the barometric pressure. I was so very, very sleepy today. Not surprisingly, we had a thunderstorm in the afternoon. But I was able to finish my walk and check on the kitten.

The food I put down before was gone. I put down fresh water and some wet and dry cat food.

I didn’t see the kitten today, but I arrived a lot earlier than I usually do. I normally walk at night, but I put everything down at the same spot.

Not sure what her future will be. I really don’t want to adopt a kitten right now. I know that seems heartless, but I don’t want the responsibility. I make so little money now. And I vowed that when I couldn’t take my dog to the vet all those years ago, that I would not have another pet unless I was absolutely sure I had the money to pay for one.

Goodbye, England’s Rose

Twenty-eight years.

The Glorious 1990s.

A better time, it seems.

And on this day, in 1997, incomprehensively worse.

If you were around then, you remember. It was a Saturday night, and I was over at my brother’s house, using the internet. My own computer was so ancient, it couldn’t handle the internet, but I could get email, something baffling to my friends. How could you get one without the other? Well, it was happening. I was over at my brother’s house looking for information about Puerto Rico. I’d be going there two days later.

Funny the things you remember. There had been a boil water alert a couple days before, but my brother, being paranoid, was still boiling water. I heard a crash of glass while I was in the computer room. Apparently a glass lid had exploded. Bits of hot glass were gluing themselves to the vinyl floor.

I think the television was on; I vaguely heard bits saying Princess Diana had been in a car crash in Paris.

Shortly after, I went home. Dad was in the recliner, the news also on, watching the coverage. We watched and watched, and then the announcement came she had died.

I don’t think I cried, I remember feeling stunned. I was preoccupied by my trip, and I didn’t watch the funeral either. I was in Puerto Rico at the time, and a friend had unexpectedly joined me down there. I think we were out exploring during the funeral. Either that, or asleep.

I had a fascination with the British Royal Family. So elegant, yet so fucked up. I wondered how Queen Elizabeth felt about it all. She seemed so very hardworking, so dedicated to her position; how could it be her children couldn’t stay married? And got involved in all sorts of crazy shit?

One could argue that she believed her job as queen meant that came first. It’s not a job she had expected to get, but her uncle decided love was better than the throne, and he gave it up. That seems like an incredibly brave choice considering that Wallis Simpson was twice divorced. He couldn’t be sure that his marriage would last, and that he would have given up a throne for nothing.

But the marriage did last.

I had high respect for Queen Elizabeth. For someone who didn’t expect the job but had it foisted on her, I always wondered if she resented her uncle. What would her life had been like if she hadn’t been queen? Would she have been like Princess Margaret, freewheeling and outrageous, but deeply unhappy, as it seems the royals are when it comes to love and marriage?

The only way I felt she put a foot wrong was after Diana died. She had to have known how beloved Diana was. To not acknowledge her death or at least address the nation was incredibly stupid. Yes, she said she was protecting Diana’s sons, but come on now. Just because she was trained to never show emotion in public didn’t mean all of England had to maintain a stiff upper lip too.

I know I couldn’t be in that position and not be emotional. I’m too emotional. A particular song, an amazing floor exercise routine or skating program, all of that chokes me up. A particular scene in a movie. So many things set me off.

So yeah, for Queen Elizabeth, good job. But huge PR blunder when your finest ambassador for royalty died and you wouldn’t speak to your people until the prime minister and your son suggested (or was it demanded?) you do so.

And it’s been 28 years. Strange how fast life goes by.

And it’s also strange how some things never seem to change, for some people.

I hope Diana is resting in peace, knowing that no matter how the royal family felt about her, she was beloved worldwide. I wonder about life. It seemed like it was jam-packed for her, only for it to be over when she was 36.

She’d lived half of her life at age 18.

I was an idiot kid then.

And if she could have done it all over again, would she had given it up to marry someone less well known, who hadn’t had a past lover he couldn’t quite let go of?

Would she have married at all?

Would she be just another nameless, faceless, senior citizen housewife now?

It’s just a shame what happened.

My Second Good Deed of the Day

It was windy earlier today. I saw most of my laundry hanging out to dry over on the very edge of the hanging bars suspended from my balcony ceiling. One of the hangers actually had fallen off one of the bars and was on the very edge of the balcony.

I retrieved it, but looking down at the ground, saw something. Was it one of my shirts? I couldn’t remember what all I’d hung out to dry the night before, so I went down to check.

It was a t-shirt, but wasn’t mine. I guessed that maybe it came from my building, but it was impossible to know. I’ve seen some fierce winds and clothing items carried hundreds of yards from where they came from.

So I went out and got the shirt and hung it on the doorhandle to the entrance of my building.

If it’s still there in a couple days, I might hang it in a busier place.

My second good deed of the day was feeding and watering the stray kitten inside the grounds of the university I couldn’t get into the other night. It is a very noisy kitten. I got to see more of it tonight. A new c-store opened up and I asked if they sold cat food. They ponied up three small tubes of food after I told them the story of the kitten.

I went home and got a takeout container and some water, and brought it back to the spot. I was able to reach through the fence and put a paper plate down with a tube of food, and some water.

The kitten drank for quite a while. I don’t know if she touched the food.

I’m thinking I might find a sympathetic college student who might let me into the entrance with them, then I can go to the kitten’s spot and maybe catch it.

I don’t know why it’s so noisy. It doesn’t look hurt, but it could be full of worms or fleas for all I know. I just feel bad for it. Where’s it’s mom? Is the mom dead?

Anyway, here’s a photo.

Suicide Prevention, Chinese Style

In China’s subway system, they have walls and doors so no one can throw themselves (and no one can push you) in front of a train.

The top photo is what it looks like when there’s no train in the station. There is an ad on the opposite wall, because we can’t waste space. The bottom photo is what it looks like when a train comes into the station.

Both sets of doors open, and there’s only room to step into the train.

It seems weird that in the United States, preventing things isn’t thought about. But China seems to think about these things a bit more.

I think that’s why 9/11 horrified us so much. I wondered if when they were building the Twin Towers, if making it strong enough to withstand commercial airplanes being flown into them was ever brought up.

Probably not.

Americans like to think, “oh, no one would ever be crazy enough to do that.”

But your average American can’t conceive of anyone being so desperate for a cause that they would be willing to DIE for it.

That’s why understanding poverty, hardship, and other cultures is so important. Because what would you be willing to do, when it came down to it.

And what are others capable of?

At least this way, you can’t commit suicide or murder by subway.

Good job, China!