Thursday, June 11, 2009

I just joined writers.com write your own blog for free, and guess where they sent me. Here! Of course like all internet scams, they wanted me to "upgrade" my blog by paying so much per month. I have two blogs, I don't need to add another one. I rarely blog on my Myspace blog anymore. The one thing I like about my Myspace blog is it tells you how many people read your blog daily. Here on blogger you have no idea. I guess on Blogger I can tell myself that thousands if not millions of people read my blog a day. LOL!

Not much new in my life. Yesterday and Today I made two big buys of benzo's. Valium, nobody has Xanax right now. Of course they don't, we all just got our wellfare finacial aid, food stamps, and Social Security checks came in. I spent over 200 dollars on benzo's. WTF is wrong with me. I keep telling myself that I need that many to ween myself off. I also rationalize the purchase by telling myself its only 10mg Valium, not 2mg Xanax. The Xanax is much stonger. It takes ten 10mg valium for me to even start nodding. Of course this could be because I have been on a binge with Xanax and Valium, and my tolerance is high. Which means I should go for a week takeing only one or two a day, and get my tolerance back down. It would save me alot of money.

I also wanted to tell everyone who reads this blog my new plan. I bought a ticket to Seattle Washington for 211 dollars. I leave mid July. I haven't even bothered to tell my parents about my purchase, nor have I told them that I will not be flying back to Wisconsin with them. So they wasted how ever much it costed them to buy my ticket to Wisconsin without even talking to me about it. Now my mom finds out that the airline my parents will be flying out of Hawaii on doesn't allow dogs. Their tickets are non refundable. Since Eleanor is a medically necassary dog, and is considered a service dog to me, for my Bi Polar diagnosis. So my parents need me to be on that plane with them to get Eleanor off this island. The company I'm flying out of Hawaii on allows dogs on board without all the rigamaroll their company has. I wanted Eleanor to fly back with my parents, and then when I was ready to tell my parents where I am, be it a week, or year, I would have Eleanor flew over to Washington along with my parents so I can take care of her. Although if I wait too long Eleanor will have to suffer yet another abondment. Elle loves my mom and dad. She also loves me, aergo she wants all three of us to be with her at all times.

The thing is I need to cut the amilical cord, my parents are not willing to let me go, and cause me to go on a guilt trip every time I say I do not want to move back to Wisconsin with you. So I'm going to have to be a 26 year old runaway. I don't have much money saved. Now that I've spent it all buying benzo's. (God I'm an idiot) so all you anon's out their I already know this, there is no need to reiderate what I just said.

When I get to Washington I have no idea where I'm going to stay. Most likely I'll find a homeless shelter and hope that they have an open bed. Then I must go out and get myself a job, probably as a waitress or bartender since those are the two things I've done most my life. That and taking incomming phone calls for a catologe, and for an insurance company. I once was a CNA at a nursing home in my home town of Zero Falls. I was 16, and I was fired for sexual harassment at that job also. I just cannot keep my mouth shut when it comes to inappriate things to say, and approiate things to say and do.

The reason I was fired from my job as a CNA at the Nursing Home in Oconto Falls, was because I worked with this guy, probably two years older than myself. At this job we were not allowed to wear jeans, and we had to wear these really ugly cloth pants. Mind you I was sixteen, and to wear something that made me look like fat old blob...like I am now was a big NO, NO in my eyes. God I hate consumerism, and fashion magazines with models stick thin, making all of us normal sized 16 year old think we are fat when we weigh 135lbs and are 5'8. If only I was 135lbs now, I'd be wearing a bikini everywhere I went.
There was this other CNA, and of course he was a male CNA. Something you don't see alot of in the midwest, where women do women's jobs, and men do men's jobs. I don't remember his name, but I remember that he got to wear jeans to work evey day, and I brought this issue up ever evening I woked with him, and every weekend morning I worked with him. Why did this 18 year old CNA get to defy the dress code, and when I did so I was sent home to change into appropiate clothes, and writen up? Sexist...right? I thought so.
One day me and dress code violater were on lunch together, and we both happened to be spending our lunch outside because it was a warm spring day. He and I started a conversation. I didn't hate him or anything, I was just pissed off at the supervisor about the fact he got to wear jeans to work.
I told Mr. jeans that I felt like shit that particular day, because I had been drinking the night before. It was a Saturday, and Friday the night before I went to a beer party, and ended up blacking out. Without warning, Mr. jeans said to me, " I feel awsome this morning, I gave myself a coffee enema before I left for work, and it gave me the juice I needed to get in the mood to help the elderly." He then began to tell me about how Jesus Christ saved him, and his family. He doesn't drink cofee, but he can put it up his ass in an enema. He went on and on about how he doesn't use deoderant, or any such thing, just some baby poweder under his arms and that does the trick. Mind you this Mr. jeans always had BO! I mean major BO, even the patients in the nursing home would talk about it during arts and crafts.
After Mr. Jeans stopped telling me about his live as a born again christan, and all the positive that comes from being a good christan person, I said, " So Mr. Jeans why do you have a woman's job? Are you gay, I mean I know you like to stick things up your ass every morning, and you are a CNA the only male CNA at the nursing home."
Suddenly he got all huffy puffy, and while walking away from me, he was saying something about gay people being an abomination, and God doesn't make me gay for giving myself a coffee enema every morning. I followed him in and apoligized over and over, told him I didn't mean anything by it. It was just a question.
The next morning my supervisor calls me into her office after my shift is over, and tells me that Mr. Jeans came to her and told her that I ask his what his sexual oriantaion was, and that I implyed that he was homosexual. I was then told that this is considered Sexual Harrassment, and my position at the nursing home was terminated, and that I needed to give back my scrub tops, and my name tag, and I won't get my check until I have returned all these items.
I remeber I cried while she was fireing me. That job paid good money, and it was easy. You just talk to and play with the elderly, and wash them, and get them in bed by 10, and after 10 it was bed checks every 20 to 30 minutes. The rest of the time I spent reading and getting paid for it.
I was also worried that my parents were going to give me whooping with the belt. I haden't gotten a whippen since I was 13, and that was for running away. I was gone for at most 10 hours. Now here I am 16 with a boyfreind who was as redneck as they come, and a drunk to boot. Yet my parents liked him, because he worked in construction, and he bought me nice things, and when he came over for family gatherings he was queit.
When I got home, my dad was still at work, working the night shift. My entire middle school, and highschool life my dad worked swing shift at a papermill. So I told my mom that I got fired from my job for sexual harassment. Mom took it like a champ. She knew me, and knew that I don't have that natural sensor most people have where they think before they speak.
When my dad found out, he wasn't mad at me at all, he was mad at the(and these were his exact words) "Queer for complaining to our supervisor, when I asked a completly legimit question".
My dad is a bigot with a very thick skull. Nothing gets in or out anyore. Everytime I hear him say some kind of derogitory remark I cringe, and I try to get him to look at the situation from a diffrent perspective. He will sit and listen, but it son't dv'///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////c

7 comments:

Boston Joe said...

that is a great story!! totally something I would have said. I really don't see how that is "harasment", you didn't really harass him, you just called him on his shit and it he was such an upstanding Born Again, then why the fuck what he sticking shit up his ass?? That is too funny!! anyway.. You better be carefull wiht the Benzo thing cause you may not be able to score right away in Sea. and you can have some really bad withdrawals from Benzos including seizures. When I was in my one and only rehab/detox facility, I remeber the guy saying he would rather have 10 H withdrawals than 1 benzo one cause they are so bad.. be careful and good luck!

AnnaGrace said...

Boston Joe,

I wonder were Mr. Jeans is nowdays?

As for the benzo addiction...I'm totally afraid of benzo sickness. That's why I never let myself get lower than 2 benzo's. I need to be real carefull. Thanks for the reminder. Glad to know people give warnings such as yours.

Your sweet Mr. Boston Joe
All my love,
Anna Grace
XXX

PS. I nodded out while writing this blog, my finger was sitting on a key, and left the beautiful ending. LOL!

Anonymous said...

Ana, this plan sounds dumb! No money and a homeless shelter? No benzos? No MMT? No job? Your parents worried sick? I guess the Bi Polar is kicking in because your 'great plan' changes every five minutes!

Anonymous said...

Who do you think is going to hire you to serve the public?

AnnaGrace said...

Anon numeral uno,

Your right, I do need to find to get off the benzos. As far as MMT, in Seattle they have an emerancy insurance for IV heroin users. All I have to is show them my track marks on my hands arms, and feet, and I'm on the emerancy insurance. Which means free MMT, until I can get insurance. Or I could cross the boarder up to Vancover, and use their Universal health care. I'd have to look into that more, because I believe I have to apply for citizenship.
As for my parents, thanks for guilting me yet again into feeling bad for them. I'm 26 years old, I can go where the fuck I want, and I don't have to tell anyone where I am going.
Who knows, once I'm there I'll call them, and there is nothing they can do to get me back. Plus homeless shelters are not that bad, I lived in one before, and had zero problems.
I'm sure you'll find a flaw any plan I make, unless its to do what I don't want to do.
Sorry I'm not who you want me to be.

AnnaGrace said...

Anon 2,

Who knows who will hire me? You've never met me, and have no idea how charming I can be. I never give out my social security number until I'm hired.
When I get hired I will bathe in the sinks of the fast food resturants I'll be working at.
IF you can get a job, then so can I.
Shame on you. Shame on you. Read someone else's blog. Stay the fuck away from mine.
I bet your have never sinned in your life. I guess that means you get cast the first stone. Fuck off now.
All my love,
Anna Grace
XXX

Ifyoudonthearfrommeivebeenmurded said...

hi, anna, i can't get ahold of boston joe so im using your profile....

hey its beautifulthings...april... I have a new blog!