Save the Apostrophe

So what do you guys all think, to apostrophe or not to apostrophe, eh? That is a question some are grappling with across the country. Apparently, apostrophes are disappearing from names and places all over the nation. The feds discourage the use of the punctuation in place names and the U.S. Geological Survey's Board on Geographical Names has held a non-use policy for over one hundred years according to my local, and not very accurate, newspaper. I did not bother to pursue additional sources.
However, I think it's kind of silly to have apostrophes and not use them. There is a clear difference in meaning, in the English language, between a word ending in S with an apostrophe and one without. Leaving out the apostrophe changes the whole meaning behind a place. The examples given in my paper were Pike's Peak in NH and Henry's Fork in CO. Both of these places were named after people. Hence the possessive apostrophe. Take it away and the meaning is lost and it's just a word for a place now. I suppose one could argue that Pike and Henry "discovered" areas which were already inhabited and had names and therefore why should they be honored at all? I agree, but since the names aren't changing altogether shouldn't we just use the crappy name correctly?
Is the government lazy, stupid, cheap? All of the aforementioned? Doesn't such a policy set a precedent of laziness and a blase attitude regarding punctuation? How can we require our children to adhere to the expectations of standardized testing if our own government can't even uphold those standards?
I think the loss of the apostrophe is a great analogy for the general loss of thoughtfulness and integrity in the United States. It's all about what is easy, less expensive, and fast. It has nothing to do with quality, attention to detail, or what's right. Don't get me wrong, there are a lot of awesome things that have come with the advent of technology and the expectation of speed which arrives beside it. I just don't think we need to sacrifice quality in exchange for profits. It will come back to haunt us.

I don't want to fuck up my reputation with all those Anons who scroll these pages and rely on my obsession with drugs and nothing else, so........Drugs, drugs, drugs, I love em'.

"If you want your tree to produce plenty of fruit, you've got to cut it back from time to time. Same thing with your neural cells. Some people may call it brain damage. I call it prunin'."

- Tom Robbins
Jitterbug Perfume

I Hate Bank of America

I just want to be very clear about the following: Bank of America is a terrible, horrible, no good, very shitty bank.
This is why: They are crazy about thinking people are out to scam their money from them. If you do not have an account there, which, needless to say I do not, they fingerprint you to cash a check. Oh yes, you read that correctly. Fingerprint, like in jail. I admit, they ask for only one fingers worth, but for real? And to add one insult to another, they don't even have a box of tissues to wipe off the black crap it leaves on your fingertip. What the hell? And then the teller all sickly-sweet tells you it comes right off. Yeah? On what? My sort of clean shirt? How rude.
So of course I blatantly wiped my finger on some little pad of advertisement paper that was attached to her little whatever that is called that bank people look out of. It's not a regular counter because it has those little square cut outs where their faces are. But they are not windows because there is no top. You know how it is.
I have to make it clear, as well, that the check I was cashing was drawn on their bank. It was a $200 check from my mom. As an aside, I hate admitting that I accepted money from my mom. Writing it makes me sick. If Mikey weren't up my ass about it I would never have asked. I hardly ever ask her for anything. I feel I need to explain that she doesn't work. She lives off my dad's alimony and her family real estate business out of Boston. She lives pretty fat. She has a nice house, she has everything she needs and more, so $200 is no hardship for her to part with. That does not make it okay to ask for money though, I feel I should be able to get what I need myself. All three of my siblings still live at home and the youngest is 19. My sister doesn't work, just lives off my mom. My one brother has a job and makes good money but he doesn't contribute rent or food money, she even pays his car bills. All he has to spend his money on is weed and H. So although it's no justification, me asking for 2 bills is, like, nothing. Especially since I can count the times I've asked her for anything since I moved out at 17. I know I sound crazy. I obviously have a complex over my mother and being self-sufficient. That's clear. But all aside from the main point that Bank of America sucks!
So the check is drawn on their account, I have to show them my passport, a fucking US federal document I needed, like, eight forms of ID to obtain in the first place, my mom has an account there they could check if they needed, there's cameras everywhere, and they need fingerprints?
Way to have trust in the American people, Bank of AMERICA! So everyone's a scamming criminal if they don't have an account with you? See, if I had an account as well as my mother, they may forgo they fingerprint process. Okay, Big Brother.
I was pissed I had to go home and sleep for two hours before the bank even opened therefore causing me to be awakened just as it was getting good. So before I knew the words were out in the world I was telling this lady that she should inform her superiors that this fingerprint practice is insulting and I would never, ever even enter the door of their bank if my family, against my advice, did not insist upon using their services. And of course, she sickly-sweetly had to defend their stupid corporate asses. Which only angered me further. So I interrupted her speech to tell her I was aware of their angle but the bank still sucked and I turned on my heels and walked away. Call me crazy, I'd rather be crazy in the eyes of the Bankers of America than be a Winston Smith.

"I've acquired quite a taste for a well-made mistake"

I think Fiona Apple is the shit. I know she's considered a crazy bitch, and probably she is. But so am I, so it's no wonder I can relate to her music. If I could sing, which I totally can't, I'd want her voice. Or something between hers, Zooey Deschanel, and Regina Spektor. I can't hear stuff right or something. I think my inner ear is fucked up and that's why I feel sick, like, all the time. That's why Dramamine helps me when I'm not even on a boat or in a car, I think. Note this does not stop me from trying to sing, but no one would ever pay me for it or even listen for free.

You know what I hate about people? When they go out of their way to go see live music and then they just all stand there like a frickin can of sardines, sweating on each other. I can't be hearing music without dancing. Seriously, I was like one of three people flailing around at the show this weekend. People always start dancing once I do, but they look so stiff and self-conscious. I am too a lot of the time, mostly when I have to interact with people who I think may be really stuffy. But when I dance, fuck it, who cares what people think? Maybe it's cus I grew up doing the whole Phish tour/jam band bullshit where it is encouraged to flail around. People need to loosen up.


I put the lyrics to a FA song below because I really like them. I wish I could write like her, maybe then I wouldn't feel so stuck inside my skin. I need an outlet for all my craziness. I really want to join the gun club in my town so I can just go and target shoot. I think it will make me feel better to watch bullets make holes. It's always a relief to break something. If I had the means and space I would have a wall I could just throw dishes against when I felt like tearing up the world. I don't want to kill people, just their anger, judgement, and stupidity. And I would never kill an animal unless I planned on eating it, or it was going to kill me. I hate even squishing a mosquito but I'll smack a person real quick.


I let the beast in too soon, I don't know how to live
Without my hand on his throat; I fight him always and still
Oh, darling, it's so sweet, you think you know how crazy
how crazy I am
You say you don't spook easy, you won't go, but I know
and pray that you will
Fast as you can, baby run free yourself of me
fast as you can
I may be soft in you palm but I'll soon grow
hungry for a fight, and I will not let you win
My pretty mouth will frame the phrases that will
disprove your faith in man
So if you catch me trying to find a way into your
heart from under your skin
Fast as you can, baby scratch me out, free yourself
fast as you can
Sometimes my mind don't shake and shift
but most of the time, it does
And I get to a place where I'm begging for a lift
or I'll drown in the wonders and the was
And I'll be your girl, if you say it's a gift
and give me some more of your drugs
Yeah, I'll be your pet, if you just tell me it's a gift
'Cause I'm tired of whys, choking on whys
Just need a little because, because
I let the beast in and then;
I even tried forgiving him, but it's too soon
So I'll fight again, again, again, again, again
And for a little while more, I'll soar the
uneven wind, complain and blame
the sterile land
But if you're getting any bright ideas, quiet dear
I'm blooming within
Fast as you can, baby watch me, I'll be out
fast as I can, maybe late but at least about
fast as you can leave me, let this thing
run its route

The part about her mind shifting and shaking, that's so right on for me. My mind is never still. I can feel what people are talking about when they say a screw is lose. It's seriously like your mind is not secured and you can't find your way because it's so hard to keep hold of where you're going. It's like your thoughts are the silver ball in one of those palm games where you tilt it this way and that trying to get the ball to the destination. And then the part where she gets to a point where all she wants is relief. For me, and I suspect her too, heroin works great.

I'm also one of those people who will fight and fight and fight some more because it feels normal for me. I spent so much of my life in a constant state of distress that anything other than that feels boring and weird. So I start fights for something to do I think. And you know how some people just have a knack for finding a person's weakness and exploiting it? That's me. That pain in a person's face is as satisfying as blood on my hand. Now, mind you, it takes some pushing for me to do this to a stranger. It's mostly those I love and the ones I know won't leave that take most of the abuse. Not to say they are innocent of similar behavior themselves. Mike's good at stabbing the open wounds as well. And no one can top my sister. I've seen my sister Lily reduce teachers, counselors, even police to tears.

I can't imagine having a brain that was tidy and easy to maneuver about. I feel as if it is like being born blind and trying to imagine what it's like to see. Is it possible?

Live, and let Live, People

I'm always writing shit and then erasing it because I know that even when I write silly, frivolous posts people don't read them thoroughly and start bitching about shit I didn't even write; so what will be the reaction to a rambling, half-baked gripe regarding the flaws of humanity? I really don't want to know.

When I'm out here reading other people's posts and writing my own, I'm mostly looking for some kind of outlet for whatever I'm feeling and after that I'm hoping I'll find other people who feel the same way. If I accomplish that, I generally feel better. I really don't understand the people out there who surf around looking for anything they disagree with and then proceed to lecture or, better yet, humiliate and degrade the target they have found. I think this web behavior models that which we find in society at large. There are people who want to go about their business trying to be happy and do the best they can, and then there are those who just can't mind their own business and feel the need to go out looking for issues to argue. I guess this wouldn't be so bad if these people fought child slavery, decimation of entire populations and/or species, inequality of women, government corruption and other things in the realm of fucked. But no, they'll fight you over music, hairstyle, sexual orientation, what you do on your free time, I'm honestly not sure if there is anything that is off limits for some folks.
Okay, so I think that white supremacist, misogynistic, power hungry, gun-toting angry men are really scary and not really necessary to have on the planet. But still I'm not so sure we should systematically kill, imprison, or attempt to convert them all. What good would that do? It wouldn't get rid of them probably and good people would die in the process. Why can't they just live life their way and we live it ours. They don't have to live with any non-white people or women, and they can achieve power without overpowering others. But it's like they just can't stand the thought of anyone anywhere living as these things. They don't want to see, say, a black person in the whole restaurant, not just their table. I don't get it. I can enjoy my meal if a table of police is sitting next to me....well, I might be a little wary and anxious...but isn't that my problem (maybe not in the instance of police, because that is basically corrupt government) but you know what I mean. If there were a table of hardcore vegans across from me, I can still eat my bacon while they eat their, whatever, tofu I guess. Why do we need to convince the other side that we are right? Can't we just be right for ourselves and let other people decide what is right for them?
Like my mom, I love her, she's my mom. But when I still lived with her she drove me crazy because she takes such bad care of herself (this is sort of similar to how relatives of drug addicts must feel). She has terrible ulcers that bleed and she was hospitalized all the time and then I had to take care of my three younger siblings while she was in the hospital or on a couple occasions institutionalized. But she wouldn't take any advice of any doctors and I used to buy her all this shit at health food stores, like aloe vera juice, and supplements, tea, what have you and try to get her to take better care of herself so we all didn't have to worry so much. But eventually I just stopped. I guess I realized that I've given her all the info I have about what I think, she knows, it's up to her. All I can really do is try to interact with her as best as possible without going nuts myself. I can make helpful suggestions but I can't let it consume me. All we really have is ourselves - which makes up the whole, sure - but we can only be responsible for making our own part work. I think if people concentrated more on themselves, they wouldn't have to worry about others so much.

So whatever, bring on the shit storm. I know there are all the people that will get all righteously what-iffing on me. Save your time. I don't care, you won't change my outlook, it's you I'm thinking of while writing this post

People in NY are Rude and I hate them, sorry if you are one.

We ended up renting a car to go to NY because it was cheaper than taking the train. But that means we had to drive into the city which kind of sucked. If you don't drive there regularly and know your way around, man, that place is a maze. All the one ways and shit, people running into the road and then screaming at you when you almost hit them. Actually, and maybe I've been in the country for too long, but people are mean, nasty, rude assholes in that city. Sorry NY, you guys have awesome food though.
We decided to leave on Thursday night, we stopped in Holyoke and then rented a cheap room for the night. We got some dope that was really good and I must have overdone it for my first shot because I was puking my brains out all night and into the next day. Now, mind you, as far as opiates goes, for me anyhow, puking is a good thing. I equate barfing hard with the dope being good. But usually I puke a few times and then it's smooth sailing, or nodding, for the night. But I could hardly enjoy myself I was so sick. I puked in the room, on the walk to the store, in the store, on the way back from the store, in Denny's the next day, out the side of the car, in the Bronx... at McDonalds, and then I bought some Dramamine and wish I'd thought of that a lot sooner. I got used to it by Saturday but I was so faded by then that we decided to just go home and sleep and skipped Boston. Lame, I know. We were pretty much out of money by then anyhow. If I hadn't had to work tonight I would have gone. So we drove home, got high and cleaned our place up a bit.
I read some bad reviews about Terminal 5 before we left. I figured people were just being people, loving to bitch, but the place does kind of suck. It's just really hard to see anything or move around. And they could only play till midnight, and we got there late to begin with. Oh well, at least we got to do something outside of our town. Having grown up in and around Boston, you'd think I would like being in the city. I do like it most of the time and think about moving back all the time, maybe we were just in a crappy part. It was slammed with tourists and all the shit that goes with that.

I've noticed that police activity has waned recently. maybe it's because Bush isn't our pres anymore and not as much money is going to the Drug War. When I stopped using illicit opiates and switched to the legal type about five years back the whole place was swarming with police. It's a lot more like the good ol days again lately. Right to the spot, no problems and we're out. For a few years the cops were just so bad, they were everywhere and mean, and quick to pull out a gun. Now people are all out walking around again instead of staying in houses as much. Oh, and holy shit, get this. In Mass. it's illegal to buy needles w/out a script, EXCEPT in Chicopee County where Springfield and Holyoke are. I guess too many people were getting sick from used needles, so now you can buy ten a day at any pharmacy and you can exchange them at any fire department. How cool is that? Awesome, it's about time people make some reasonable laws. People are going to use a needle if that's what they want to do. Isn't it better to use a clean one? I wish I knew that before using a dull ass point all weekend. I'd use a new needle every time a shoot if I could get them that easy up here. Used to be you could. We used to buy them from Wal-Mart Pharm until they stopped selling them. I think poor habits and dirty needles is what causes a lot of problems which plague addicts. I use and have used needles a ton and have hardly any scarring. Unless I point it out, you really wouldn't notice. But sharp points make all the difference. Massachusetts is looking like a good place to move to. What with the decriminalization of marijuana and new needle laws. I may just move there.
I don't know if I'm lucky or fucked. I met a kid who will drive to meet me with wicked cheap bundles. I could make some good money if, of course, I didn't just use it all. That's another sign of good times. You know there's mad dope out there when people selling weight are recruiting customers. Where we go, if you have VT or NH plates people know you're probably buying a lot at a time and taking it back up north, same reason the cops target us. I don't know, only time will tell.
Thank God for methadone or I'd feel super shitty today. Although all I wish I could do is go home and sleep, sleep, sleep forever.

I'm pretty sure Reggie's(the cat) not coming back. I really hate just not knowing what happened to him. He's been an indoor cat for his whole life but when we moved to this new place him and the other cat just sort of decided that they weren't staying in anymore. We have always lived in town since we got the cats and they never tried to get out. But with the only exit opening up right into a field it's impossible to keep them in. I would literally have to lock them in a cage. I open the door and they bolt through my legs; and try, just try to catch a cat outside who doesn't want to be caught. If I succeed in not letting them out, they climb up the blinds and the curtains and screens. They even knocked down the coat hook thingy one night. They never did stuff like this before. My reasoning in letting him out was that it's better to live a short, happy life rather than a long, miserable one. The other cat, Sugar, still wants to go out, I figure it's his decision.
I'm sad Reggie's gone but he wasn't that young either. We adopted him when he was six from the Humane Society and we've had him for over five years, so he was at least ten I hope. Death just sucks for the people who are left standing. Logically, and maybe instinctually too, I know death is not a bad thing. It just always leaves me with a sick feeling that I didn't give enough love to the one who is gone now.

Anyway. There's not much I can do to change what has already happened.

Take your broken wings and fuckin fly anyhow

I'm having a not so great day/night, whatever - for me there's only asleep or awake, day and night bleed into one another. My big, old, fat cat Reggie is missing. He's the greatest cat ever, so cuddly and serene. He's just such a loving and grounding force in my life. I don't have very much of that so his loss will be devastating for me. I feel like such an idiot because it makes me cry just to write it down. I just keep thinking of all these reasons why he isn't coming back, that he's okay and will be home soon. But I'm not so sure, he's older and there's fox and fischer cats out here. I'll just be so, so sad if he doesn't come home. It just sucks.


And my two younger brothers came to visit for the weekend. I suppose visit would be to use the term loosely because they wouldn't have bothered if there hadn't been a reason. Just to see me would never be reason enough for anyone in my family. There would have to be drugs or some form of escape from one situation or another. I can't say I'm any different with them. I go to their place for holidays or tragedy only.


The older of the two came up to get buds, he dragged the younger of the two along for company. It was okay for the the evening. We made some food, and s'mores and lit off firecrackers in the field out back. Smoked a bunch, watched a movie, basic stuff. As anyone who stops by here is aware, I am an opiate user, so is my brother, sister, cousins, friends, boyfriend, pretty much everyone in my life. If they're not into opiates (mother, father, older generation) they are pill heads or winos. So my brother shows up wicked high and doesn't want to share what he's got, he won't come off any even for cash. As anyone who uses opiates knows, even if you're trying to be cool, this is a situation which causes tension whether you want it to or not. Unless there is plenty for everyone who wants some - like if everyone present has their own. He finally gave me a little chip but asked me to hide it from the others which just sucks and is hard when everyone is a user - takes one to know one, you know? Now also, this wouldn't have been such an issue if he could have just kept it to himself. He likes to fancy himself discreet, but he's anything but. I think we all like to believe that we handle our shit better than we do. But anyway, it's really obvious when he's using. He just doesn't quit until he's comatose. Everyone knew. But we had our methadone and didn't really say anything.


I woke up this morning and I went into my bathroom. Right away I was like "what the fuck?". There were burn marks on my bath mat from where he had nodded out while sitting on the toilet and must have fallen over so far his hand, holding a lit cigarette, fell to the rug. There were little tea candles all along the sink which he obviously used to cook with, black spoon smudges everywhere, it looked like a heroin paraphernalia bomb went off. Honestly I didn't really care about that, Mikey hadn't seen it and I would have just cleaned it up. I did my thing and went to grab my hat which was sitting on the back of the toilet and as I pulled it towards me I noticed a spoon go flying into the toilet bowl beneath. I knew it was his and my first thought was "oh, fuck, I just threw all his shit in the toilet". But let me just state here, who the hell hides something important like that under a baseball hat on the back of a toilet? Anyone who owns a toilet should know that shit ALWAYS falls off that slippery little cap of porcelain.


So I went out to the living room where my brothers were sitting and I asked, "Uh, man, was that your spoon in there cuz I just flung it in the toilet by accident, I'm really sorry." But I didn't get the reaction I thought. He responded angrily, "thanks a lot, Nellie", all rolling his eyes and shit because our younger brother was there. He's not that young and he's been watching us boot dope for way too long, he's not an idiot. So the older one is all slamming his shit around, yelling at me and then stomps outside. My younger brother told me he already knew and just to ignore him. But I really hate it when people try to take shit out on me when it is their own reckless behavior which got them there to begin with. I wasn't about to pretend that I was the asshole. So I let him sit out there stewing while I put together a new sack of weed to make up for what he lost by leaving the original one sitting on the floor where my dogs proceeded to eat it (he was 100% forewarned about such a possibility). So I was already taking the fall for that mistake, he used up his credit. Then he comes in and says that my younger brother wants to leave. So now I'm just thinking "Fuck them both". So I just laid it out for him, told him to take responsibility for what he does. If you're gonna get high, fine, but don't fuckin pretend you're not. Especially in front of people who have been getting high as much for as long and know you're high. I told him our younger brother already knew and to get a fucking clue. Obviously this did not go over well. After that i threw his sack at him. Aside from an apology from him there was really nothing at that point that would have fixed the morning. Once my feeling are hurt and I'm angry and hungry, there's not much left to do but beg, plead or run. My youngest brother tried to deny that he said he wanted to leave, which is probably partially true.



Things seem so petty when you look at them on paper. I shouldn't have let it upset me. I shouldn't have taken it out on Sam, the youngest. He's almost never to blame for anything, I feel bad about that. I just felt like he was siding with the other one, preferring to appease him rather than lay out the truth which is the way I prefer things to be, out in the open.



I did try to shake it off at first. Once I realized that he hadn't lost anything but a small amount of spoon residue and was mad only because he felt like he had been outed, I laughed because I figured he couldn't possibly be serious. I couldn't believe he thought anyone didn't know what he was doing in the bathroom for hours at a time. Like we didn't notice he was up all night. Which by the way is a habit unique to my brother as far as I know. When he has a lot of H he does it all. He gets as high as he can without dying, waits a little bit and does it again. I like to get to where I'm nauseous, itchy, and nodding and then save the rest until it I can't feel it anymore (not sick, but either when I get home from work or wake up), then repeat. It's like he doesn't even give himself a moment to enjoy being high because he'd rather spend all his energy becoming high. I don't know...he was just so angry at this imagined affront. When things were cool. Mike and I bought all this stuff for breakfast for before they left. I just felt like he slapped us, I don't know why.



I hate how something so small and stupid can turn into this whole big thing. I am as guilty of such a thing as anyone can be. I get to a point where there is just no reasoning with me. Nothing but time can get me out.

I really don't understand people who claim that they wouldn't know what to do with themselves if they didn't have a job to go to. Seriously? They must be really boring people. If I didn't have to work, whether I had many resources or not, I would never be at a loss for something to do which was more enjoyable than sitting at work. Perhaps part of what contributes to such a feeling is the fact that I do not like my job, or any job I've ever had. Maybe if my work was also something which I loved and believed in I would not mind spending so much time at it, can't say. However, even if that were the case I'd still prefer to work from home or something.
Actually, there was one job I liked. It was at a little, family run health food store in Bennington, Vermont. I worked there part-time while I was in school and I never dreaded having to go there even when I was tired or had a crap load of work to do. It was so calm and relaxing to be there. The owner had us all sit down everyday at ten thirty for tea and snacks. But big, corporate monsters will probably put them out of business w/in a few years time.

It's so beautiful out right now. It's raining and the sky is practically lavender with pink and blue clouds with a rim of dark green mountains. That's the one thing that's amazing about living in Vermont, the reason I moved here to begin with, it's always so beautiful and serene. There are very few places in this state one can go and not see the mountains or at least fields, trees, and cows.

Okay, I'm trying to do too many things at once. Gonna call it a night. Hope all is well with the blogosphere. See ya.

Wow, I have such a hard time doing so many things when I have no weed to speak of. Eating and sleeping are my main concerns. I'm hungry, I'm tired, but for the life of me I cannot enjoy either. My mind is consumed by the thought of wanting to smoke. Even shitty weed would be better than nothing. I'm kicking myself for not bringing those roaches w/me. What was I thinking? I guess I thought all the m-done I took would be a proper substitute for the night. I thought I took enough to be slightly blasted for the night, but apparently not. That's the tricky thing about that stuff, it's easy to get accustomed to. I mean, I'm fine, good enough, not sick but it's hardly the place in which I am content.

It's bullshit that it's legal to smoke cigs but not weed. Seriously. I get so angry at times like this when I should be able to go to the store and buy buds for a reasonable price. If I had to buy my bud like most people I think I would go crazy. Luckily it is rare for me to be out. People would be in danger if I had to go through this regularly. Not cuz I would steal or hurt people, I'd just be a nasty bitch all the time instead of just sometimes.

I work at a trucking company and probably needless to say, we (me and the girl who works opposite me) get hit on all the time. And although it is always flattering to receive a compliment, most of these guys are much older than me and not generally the most attractive dudes. Of course, I'm always polite but it makes me really anxious and I start to blush and perspire, really, no matter what they say or who it is. I don't know what's wrong w/me. There's one guy who is attractive but older than me and he's always inviting me to go live w/him. He's really nice but it's kind of weird. And he was just here and I was trying to do my job and spilled my coffee all over all my paperwork. Awesome.

Gone and nothing's gonna bring em' back........

This is me, a few weeks ago with all my hair and then recently with it gone. I think it looks pretty cool considering I cut it myself and took the pitures from, like, a foot and a half in front of my face. My plan is to just grow it out. Luckily, my hair grows rather quickly.

better days

Feeling pretty good for a change. I'm used to being one of those people for which things just seem to go wrong, no matter what. It feels good when things work out without having to go through hell and back first.

Like a lot of people these days, our cell phone is our only phone. It just doesn't make sense to have a land line too. The cell works at home and then we can take it with us too. But our phone just decided it had enough and killed itself, we can't even turn it on to retrieve saved numbers and whatnot. We had Unicel and went to the store to see if it could be replaced, turns out they were bought out by at&t and claim they no longer have Unicel stuff. So we had no choice but to switch to them. But surprisingly it worked out awesome for us. They bought out our old contract and then we got a discount from our work and ended up with an iPhone for wicked cheap. If we just had walked in it would have been, like, seven hundred bucks with a deposit and shit. But we ended up having to pay less than a third of that and the thing is pretty cool. I can get Internet access more or less anywhere. It's only a little bit slower than my laptop. I'm pretty psyched, I just have to figure out how to use it now.

There have been a couple defining moments for me in the past week. For one, I'm done with the clinic for now. We found a kid who can get us methadone, liquid and pills, for way cheaper than going to the clinic. So we've been taking that instead. Now we can go right home after work and it gives us more time to sleep and saves a crap load on gas. And we can take as little as possible for a week or so and then just a few pills taken at once provides a decent high. Not a perfect substitute for the real thing but nothing to scoff at either. Second best part (aside from ability to get high) is, we don't have to be at the clinic every morning which provides a certain sense of freedom I haven't felt in several years.

Aside from those to the clinic, other ties were severed recently as well. I'm not sure which has given me a greater sense of freedom, cutting the clinic or cutting my hair. I had dreads for over ten years, and I loved them but they started to feel so heavy and saturated with bullshit and sweat. I felt in my gut that it was time for them to go, I felt this way for many months but I ignored it. Hair grows but dreads are difficult to replace. I'll probably never have them again. They've been such a major aspect of my identity for so long, I feel like a different person without them. It was hard to make the final decision and to follow it through, but I'm glad I did. In some ways I feel like I'm succumbing to the expectations of mainstream society. I have to tell myself that it's better without them, I can still do what I do only now I can do it under the radar. Having dreads is like broadcasting to all ones affinity for deviant behavior. Without em I can appear relatively non-threatening and still be bad, bad, bad on the inside.

Hopefully this feeling of forward momentum will stay with me, become a catalyst for change in my life.