flagrant disregard

for pete's sake, it's midnight on new year's eve and most of the world is drunk
me? i am working on: 2004 taxes schedule d- capital gains and losses.

i resolve to have fun, initiate sex more often, and spend more money in 2005.

pie in the sky. the only agony in buying my neighbor's condo was originally having to let her think that *she* was taking *me* for an additional $15,000. the excuse? her property lacked an upgraded granite kitchen and stainless steel appliances.

with the way property values are soaring, who can care about $15,000? the value can increase that fast over the course of a normal mortgage process.

i thought about how much this money meant to her, and how she would act if she were in my position. basically, i needed to suck it up and let her think this $15,000 was truly an agonizing decision for me. considering i just silently raped her for $180,000, the actress in me revealed quasi-despair, but the transaction was relatively easy.

that's right, as of tonight, there are three units identical to the one i just purchased listed on realtor.com. the lowest priced unit is priced $180,000 more than the amount i just paid *and* is situated in a less desirable area on the property. that cheap, erm, budget unit sits to catch the blistering afternoon sun, garners too much noise from the community swimming pool, plus it would see excessive foot traffic right outside its door. my sarcasm might whine about my new "functional" kitchen, with those less than aesthetic appliances, but that's alright. this unit will soon be put up for lease.

i worried over the course of one night whether or not the owner would blindly sign and return the documents to me the next morning. the mental struggle was in locating the fatal error-- how could i lose? what massive financial mistake was i about to miss? certainly there must have been one real estate loophole or property law which i didn't catch.

it came down to these two things:
1) buying a home is a process in paperwork. i may not be a realtor, but diligently researched information and then followed the process. i know how i operate and that my biggest 'mistake' is the waste of time spent perpetually obsessing-- even when safety in a decision has been confirmed multiple times. if a mistake had been made in this purchase, i might have let it, but know it would not be worth crushing my esteem.

2) if the owner backed out of the sale, so what? easy come, easy go. what was i doing spontaneously spending over $100K? this is unlike me. i am uncomfortable and nervous to spend down even though, given the current market, this will not be a loss. if there was a wrinkle in the works relating to this condo, big deal.

these truths allowed no relief and i remained awake. additional insomnia alone could never dent my week-- always, it's something. anxiety fretted about taxes, property taxes, future capital gains taxes, all sorts of uninvented taxes, and the decision to forgo applying for a mortgage. greed needed the transaction completed now, not next month.

"before she finds out how much money she is losing," greed said. "there is no time for financing. the application process for a mortgage could take over a month. within a month, chances are the owner will come to understand the phenomenal deal you are getting and pull out."

i woke my rep up in the middle of the night to ask his opinion on the definition of morning. he had just returned home, jovial and somewhat tipsy from the endless hollywood party. we joked back and forth about what inconceivable situation would happen in just a few hours. i then kept poking myself into reality, forcing obsession and worry in an attempt to find the big mistake in this purchase but it wasn't there.

of course, there was the guilt factor. as a buyer, was i supposed to tell the seller that she could get substantially more money for her home than the asking price? was it my responsibility to suggest that she might like to price the condo unit based on something other than a for sale notice hanging in the community clubhouse? what about handing her the real estate section of the los angeles times to show how homes in this particular zip code have appreciated over 30% each year since 2001?

in the case of the owner, what originally came through as "dumb and well dressed" actually turned out to be "too scared of responsibility to really care about losing money." oh, what a relief! it's much better to be lucky than feel like a thief.

after the process ended, i found myself chatting with a property manager who had originally owned this unit. he had actually sold it to the woman who just sold it to me. what's terrible-- he mentioned that she overpaid him for the unit just a few years ago.

depressed, lonely, and wishing there were food additives to blame it on, for a few minutes sadness considered buying a gun. sick. list-making ranking all impossible decisions was finally initiated and now that i am proactive rather than slumped, it seems this strange week may be warped into another windfall.

my lease was signed for another year and mailed out yesterday. the intention is to sublet this place for $600 more per month than i pay and drop that $7200 gain directly into savings. no problem. my landlord and owner could care less.

now the interesting part: two weeks ago a woman knocked on my door and in a weird weenie way, apologized profusely for bothering me, but she needed information or opinion on how to deal with this property's homeowners association. she discussed the plans to rent out her unit, but only after maintenance work is done, and had no idea where to call [or who takes responsibility for certain situations, legal issues, etc...] the hoa is responsible for scheduling and paying for the particular work her unit needs but has yet to respond. my unit is identical to hers, and so when questioned about current monthly rent, i replied with an amount $50 less per month than i actually pay. the plan with naming a lower amount was to potentially rent it for myself at around the same rate or sublet that unit also and dump a second $7200 into savings next year-- but when her clueless eyes didn't flinch at my answer, i decided i could buy her place at a substantially discounted rate.

note: not that it was for sale.

[skip ahead]

she immediately agreed to rent to me, and returned to my door to tell of plumbing frustrations on two more occasions, but my agenda did its best to prey upon her financial fears. "whenever my unit has water problems, which is like every few months," i lied, "it's totally the owner's responsibility for all of those costs and damages to other units. if your water problem ruins someone's carpet or warps their wall it could be a big deal. unless you're really handy, the maintenance definitely adds up."

[skip ahead]

after checking realtor.com to ensure no similar units in this complex were on the market, i constructed one "for sale by owner" and two "for rent" flyers and posted them in the commons area. the fake rental ads listed the same rent i told the neighbor but the fsbo advertised an identical unit with an upgraded granite kitchen and marble bath for considerably lower than market price. for over a week i actively checked and removed other fsbo or for rent flyers, even going so far as to create xeroxed "hoa letterhead" and posting a note that said "all flyers must be approved and dated by the association prior to posting or they will be removed!"

[skip ahead]

"i think i might sell," she says and mentions the [ridiculously low] price [she thinks] these units sell for in this complex.

[note: when available they list for almost double that price.]

"that might be a good thing for you, since you're all alone," i said. "a mental patient broke into my unit on christmas morning and then spent the day undressed in my bed. we had to corner him in the bedroom until the police arrived." i commented on the nice profit she will make since purchasing a few years back, but additional persuasion did not matter as the break-in appeared to cinch her decision to sell.

[skip ahead]

steal little? steal big? i could not and would never steal a candy bar at a convenience store on a $50 dare but now having sent a deposit and signed an intent to purchase agreement for the neighbor's property, i am about to take this lady for at least $180,000.

"oh, big deal. the mental patient did not break into your home with the intention to hurt you! this wasn't a situation where someone was crouched in the dark of the kitchen holding a knife while waiting for you to come home so... so, just stop it."

my brain is probably right. a recent situation with a "scary man" was uncomfortable, but not a topic to spin into a cause to facilitate sickness.

the landlord said not to worry about the lease. whatever i want to do, stay here or go-- in this case, it's no problem if i want to break the lease. what do i want? i want the impossible. i want to know what is expected of me. if it would look weird for me NOT to break the lease, then i will choose to move.

all i can think about is trying to read both sides of the landlord's statement.
"you have complete flexibility with the lease contract and i will give you no grief should you decide it is unsafe and decide to vacate." that is all he meant but yet, i can't believe it's true. which choice is the expectation?

[it is difficult to stop obsessing.]

perhaps i am expected to move immediately whether wanting to or not. [??]
perhaps i will appear odd if i remain in the residence. [??]
perhaps this is not a big deal. [??]
perhaps it truly is. [??]

random fact: the running joke is that strange man couldn't even be bothered to steal chuck's christmas gift cards and they were all noticeably scattered on the dining room table.

if this were a biography instead of a blog, i could write about returning home late last night to discover flickering light from the television illuminating what appeared to be a strange man asleep in my bed- i might even use the term break-in. checking into an overpriced hotel in one's own city on christmas would become my 64th definition of sick. but you know me, bemused at the situation yet bitching about the price of hotel parking, the black comedy would laugh off the fact that nothing was stolen- that i still successfully appear to have neither inventory nor worth.

time spent on hold after dialing for a 911 operator: 11 minutes
los angeles police department response time: 6 minutes

meh.

my rep bought his assistant a porsche cayenne for giftmas.
[note: automotive turkey. most recalls of any vehicle in 2004.]
he doesn't screw her, but he does yell at her a lot.
i was starting to think he had half of a brain until this happened.

it continues to be the most horrifying time of the year. a holiday package arrived from fedex today to be delivered to invalid friend chuck. no problem. annually, his mother sends out a confounding christmas box filled with ill-fitting shirts in various day glow colors or appalling stripes. where, other than sears or kohl's, does one find this type of unfortunate crap? we usually donate the contents to local collection centers before the 25th-- blame us for the way the homeless dress.

why do we worry about his family's finances? why do we try to get his parents to stop this annual process? chuck's family exhibits the same ignorant behavior as motherfigure but chooses the clothing rather than food domain. since it will never change, i didn't even threaten to write "refused" on the parcel this year for return delivery. it has been suggested that holiday packages stop, and on more than two occasions it was explained how we no longer subject ourselves to the american style giftmas chaos, but his family has yet to understand or listen. we do celebrate in some way or another and make a sizeable donation to a local program, but have also taken the lunacy and obligation out of our holiday.

we cannot comprehend why anyone would think it is a good idea to visit a store and pick out a shirt for someone they had not interacted with in years. it's the thought that counts. we appreciate being thought of, and that is all it takes. a token need not accompany it.

it turned out the shoebox-sized package contained over $1000 worth of gift cards valid at stores which lack locations in california, a $400 money order drawn on an out-of-state bank, a full screen edition of the star wars trilogy on dvd, and a red t-shirt from american eagle or abercrombie with white iron-on letters spelling out "snowball fight '86." this year i am flabbergasted as usual, but there is a slight twinge of fascination. while blogging on this computer last week, i overheard chuck chatting on the phone with his mom. he clearly used the phrases widescreen not full screen, you really do not have to send anything, and whatever you do, do not send any store specific gift cards. i bet we sound sour rather than simply not wanting to be immersed in madness.

[this year, motherfigure only wasted $16 on postage to send a tube of "mary-kate and ashley olsen juicy shine lip gloss" and a box of sugar free "drugstore brand" chocolate covered caramels. no crafts. no potholders for an oven which only stores pots and pans. no boxes of high calorie betty crocker 'seven layer bars' dessert mix sent deep into this anorexic lair.]

chuck is ticked off. he sees these gift cards as either an exceptional waste of money or $1400 that should have been loaded to a visa gift card and not dispersed between the likes of several second-rate department stores in the midwest. shucks, it's sad but funny, but really sad and familiar, but-- just sad. he ranted in disbelief for ten minutes and then began ragging how even though other people's boxed up, tacky, discount store versions of christmas always seem to wind up at our doorstep, we end up looking ungrateful after prophylactically requesting to not be involved.

has he come to understand my holiday rants and is now suddenly incorporating them into his own philosophy? no, he feels bad for his parents, angry at the situation because no one listened to him, yet at the same time almost slighted. chuck knows that had he handed me that $1400 on a visa gift card, i would have finally broke down and paid the difference to replace the inferior plasmavision with a sony flat panel lcd hdtv.]

in frustration he opened up the last remaining envelope from them, which was addressed to me, and produced a $100 gift card to michael's arts and crafts store. all he can seem to do is wince. one hundred dollars in credit at a craft store? usually his family opts for a border's books and music gift card and sends a ridiculously heavy wool sweater. what were they thinking? why so much money?

perhaps this is an example of how my struggle between wanting and needing is skewing perception, but is this horrendous waste frightening to anyone else? very strange. some people buy automobiles and big ticket items for christmas, but his parents have two other children, are both working adults, and constantly complain about soaring property values. they have additional winter propane fuel bills and also are almost being taxed out of their lakefront home due to the housing boom. granted they are entrenched in tradition, but we ask to be excluded (and never reciprocate in the same fashion) but yet always hear about their holiday stress and credit card debt.

dinner.
disaster.
the illusion of perfection
but lighthearted playfulness makes me angry
and i forgot to tivo jeopardy.

they looked good.
i looked at them.

they entertained [gustable] menu choices.
i calculated osetra caviar to be $1500 per pound.

[shudder]

on a ragu of grilled marinated squid...
flagrant says: "what is yuck?!"

mussels and manila clams...
flagrant says: "what are prone to sewage pollution, viruses, contamination by pathogenic bacteria, and are a significant source of food poisoning by aforementioned intoxication?!"

[grumble]

cuisse de poulet farcie et pochee...
flagrant says: "what is mmmm, just like mom used to make?!"

the world can go to hell. [default statement.] previously, the idiot almost got decked, but this time the fedex delivery guy may become a victim of murder. [how confusing is "meet me at the front gate, i will let you in?"] chuck the buffoon is lounging on my floor trying to persuade me to buy an enormous sony lcd hdtv. [i exhibit a visual pauperism in an effort to protect the home from getting robbed. see how that works?] doctor #2 is eventually going to ring the phone so i am somewhat on edge. [he cannot seem to follow directions and continually calls line #2 on cell #1 rather than cell #2.] chuck's brother, a computer science major who graduated with honors, never surfs the web [?] is just now getting internet access [?] and keeps calling because he needs to be accompanied through the setup process. [god, what a loaf of lunchmeat!] motherfigure wants to know if i received the [deadly] cheese and venison sausage box and has another package almost ready to ship out. [the duty of right intention does not replace or supersede the duty of consideration.] a neighbor delivered a stack of mail she has been accidentally receiving which included a newly issued atm card and yearly visa card replacement. [...and on the same day i caught her "hanging around" the mailboxes.]

i don't know how to deal with frustration.

i know better to blog after a wonked-out late night session with the drain but since that was the last time ever© this post-vomiting entry should be a valid exception.

unanswered questions: why the hell do i have to adapt? what form does that adaptation look like? who made the original rule? well, how fat is he? is he who made the rule a he? why did motherfigure send me the equivalent of drugs? is she trying to kill me?

1) worry about rescheduling an appointment with doctor #2 because i will probably reach voicemail rather than him directly and that would suck but not as much as the terror involved if he actually answered the phone.

note: it turns out that doctor #2 actually holds a master's degree/mfcc and not a phd [you'd think this fact would have been noticed before last week but stress has been tremendously high.] this reinforces an obsession that he is possibly younger than me. when i was in doctor #2's office two weeks ago, he had asked my age and then gave a quizzical but then almost immediately interested look before leaning in to eye me up and down. definitely. tried not to notice. yep, age is exactly what that look meant. stab me. old and useless. think about it... imagine me having to sit there in full throttle loser mode unable to mention that i have an inner superhero who is vastly independent for a few third-world weeks at a time.


2) worry about more phone calls since i didn't bother to show up at the job in berlin.

note: if i never cared then, why worry now? [-deleted-] also the german producer [who should be angry aber das machts nichts] is going to call to reschedule, gather my flight/hotel preferences, and do his best not to offend me. question: why will they tolerate this?


3) prepare caribbean trip date and flight preferences for when [-deleted-] calls today.

note: this will happen only if i can arrange to fit an independent [and illegal] visit to cuba around those days. weekend blogging mostly contemplated whether or not to publish posts referencing my arranging of flights to havana. the only thing which will ever trip me up is this blog and so when it happens suddenly you'll be reading a lot of photographed handwritten posts.


4) worry and joke about possibly being psychotic since there is such a dramatic split between anxiety ridden situations. screwing over a big company and costing them more money? so what? as long as i refrain from treading into potential lawsuit territory it never feels like a big deal, but talking with doctor #2 on a personal level about missing an appointment and having to tell him that i refuse to afford his price for treatment is very intimidating!


5) i cannot stop obsessing over the fact resident doctor #4 wrote out a prescription without researching its inactive ingredients. this is killing me. it does not infuriate so much that my statement about having allergies was ignored, rather, the anger is directed at how i accepted being ignored. i don't do that anymore, am always more than happy to tell people to their face they have bad breath and ugly shoes, and am enraged that i must have let his supervisor's surveillance mirror intimidate me. aarrgghhh!!! the plan was to get a prescription for the insurance review and go home, but now i am still kicking myself for not treating doctor #4 as a business and getting everything included. this next appointment is going to be a trip because "i" am going to be "me."


6) wednesday was supposed to involve a "boring dinner" in [fun] miami but instead i have to attend a different [celebratory] "boring dinner" at the water grill with my rep.

note: i might be so incredibly nervous right now that it has erased all symptoms of fear.


7) should i sign the lease and get stuck in southern california or not? if it doesn't get signed i will panic when looking at apartment or housing costs, get stressed out, fall into another state of indecisiveness, possibly become homeless, eventually return to earth with a great manic personality, decide to buy a fixer-upper starter home, be in debt over a million bucks and only own an uninhabitable shack, have to get a real job, live in flea bag motel until repairs can be made, refuse to afford acceptable food and therefore starve or throw up every night under horrible hotel fluorescent lighting, get more depressed, wonk out the electrolytes, and die.

note: so that is exactly what it comes down to [die or live here] but i neither want to choke up cheapo ramen in a bathroom nor buy a disgusting starter home in southern california.

fact: that technorati.com garbage is meaningless to me.
note: offline maniacal egotism is at level ten today.
consider: anxiety? no, not on a sunday.

two weeks ago i placed a girly stuff order from sephora.com consisting mostly of cosmeceuticals but it also included comptoir sud pacifique vanille fragrances and a tube of l'occitane shea butter hand cream for motherfigure. the intention was solely for christmas distribution. days passed, and i never even worked myself up about answering the inevitable knock at the door, but nothing happened. aside from the cheesy cholesterol carton a few days back, SPEEDY DELIVERY GUY was a no show.

well something did happen last week, if not to the package, then to my own psychological makeup. feeling like a little old busybody, i went to the post office to locate my box of junk and while queuing at the counter, watched GUY SMILEY fuss with something behind his computer. it was an obvious attempt to ensure my turn in line ended up at his booth. when the man standing in front of me was called over to a different postal station, GUY SMILEY was suddenly ready, held out his arm and said, "tristan!"

stop right there. once upon a time i would have died after hearing my name called out to an entire room but nowadays just silently suck in my breath and try to not make an embarrassed high pitched squeak. what was i doing at the encino post office? this was an easy situation to avoid and could have been done by disputing the credit card bill in my own home and ignoring the lost order. as noted before, GUY SMILEY the mail clerk has a secret but strange relationship with me and it is well rooted in our habitual reciting of movie quotes from the film legends of the fall. oh, i don't know. apparently tristan is his favorite name. it seems he has no intention of ever adapting to being a normally disgruntled postal employee, and this means a basic trip to the post office for me involves online research and script memorization since i have yet to see the film.

[usps confirmation of delivery printout and a conversation... skip ahead:]

"i know this box. i know this name. oh, this name is you. i remember this box. are you sure you didn't already pick this up?" he looks at me. "okay, right," he continues. "you're here. you're standing right here. okay."

"i haven't been here since... hmm... 'samuel was a soldier and soldiers die.'" why did i initiate that? it is common for me to set the stage for another person's hilarity but who am i to ever instigate the sexual tension? i never do things like that. GUY SMILEY retorted with several wistful long grass lyrics that ended with a truly heartfelt sigh. man, one of these days i am going to bust out laughing and ruin it all.

[skip ahead again:]

"i remember this box. this morning. sephora. mm-hmm, this name lillesomething. that's you. well, how did i miss that? i think i gave it to SOMEONE ELSE--," but i interrupted and questioned while neither using a condescending tone nor the word thief, why SOMEONE ELSE would have actually accepted the delivery. GUY SMILEY hmmmmm-ed.

fact: GUY SMILEY actually knows SOMEONE ELSE.
fact: SOMEONE ELSE is a semi truck driver.
fact: SOMEONE ELSE has the exact same address as me except for one number.
fact: GUY SMILEY whipped out his cell phone and left a message for SOMEONE ELSE.

fact: this was the perfect opportunity for GUY SMILEY to get my phone number.
consider: oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

problem #11: here sits an invitation for a comped vacation. the corporation which sent the card requests that i spend a few days in the caribbean, at an all-inclusive resort-- all expenses paid. this corporation would like to hire me, but i do not want to holiday on a 'controlled private island' or variety of 'glossy ocean club.' this, you sarcastically suggest, poses a problem? yes, though it could be worse-- this could be an invitation to enjoy the atlantis paradise island harbour resort. actually, it would be highly insulting to decline. how would anyone honestly go about bowing out without feeling disgustingly affluent or arrogant?

problem #12: the other half of a split-ticket mileage run to london is coming up. split-ticketing, in this particular case, is an airline ticketing strategy used to avoid both high costs and a saturday night stay requirement. if refusing to board the initial flight, earning 1K elite status with united airlines this year will be impossible. not that it really matters, as i requalified for platinum status with northwest airlines way back in the spring, and would still hold mid-tier executive frequent flyer status with united if refusing to fly. the problem is that just thinking about sitting through these flights sounds exhausting-- and what if i am feeling shy that day? i really want to stay home.

problem #13: a 30 day lease renewal notice for this condo arrived in the mail today. should i sign on for another year, or go? it is essential to remain here for more than 30 days, but certainly not for another year. this unit is safe, more than adequate, has curb appeal, and the rent is laughably low. an identical unit in this complex is vacant and a flyer posted in the commons area states its monthly rent is $600 higher. i really should consider padding my accounts with an extra $600 a month as not to become complacent in this living situation.

depression isn't quite as bad as web hit monitoring sickness.

problem #1: resident doctor #4 told chuck he would call and leave a voicemail stating a list of different medicine options for me to choose from, but i do not listen to voicemail [ever]. no one is around to retrieve the message and write down the names of the drugs.

problem #2: i never called doctor #2 and rescheduled the appointment which was missed on tuesday and now his number is flashing in my caller id window. i will neither answer this call nor return it due to sudden unexplained anxiety.

problem #3: a gift of mild cheddar cheese.
note: from the keen and montgomery english farmhouse.

problem #4: a gift of sharp cheddar cheese wedges.
note: zingerman's 4-year aged.

problem #5: a gift of almond and bacon flavored cheddar cheese spread.
note: contraband!

problem #6: a gift of smooth colby jack cheese wedges.
note: perfect for the pinot noir addict.

problem #7: this new camera phone was never set up with password, so why does it require a password for aim and text messaging when there is none?

problem #8: a gift of white cheddar cheese curds.
note: squeaky cheese from wisconsin.

problem #9: 51 uncollected text messages.
note: $51 more charged to the telephone bill.

problem #10: a gift of antique swiss gruyere mountain cheese wedges.

problem #11: god! a piave mountain cheese wheel.
note: from northern italy.

i bet doctor #4 [who is a resident] never got a verbal ass kicking in front of his supervisors before yesterday afternoon. no, i wasn't rude. will i get fired as a patient for being honest? fun words like inferior and naive tend to piss people off but when prescribed a noted allergen, i believe the word negligent does apply.

a working class suburb of southwest chicago.
four years old.
my cousin's front yard.
summertime.

the plan was for our families to go together to the adventureland amusement park that day- an extremely rare treat. there was some type of process to get all of "us kids" ready to leave and by doing this, the ready ones were made to wait outside by the chain link fence along the driveway. though we never had anything to prepare, blame from any direction landed in our space, and suddenly gigantic and rambunctious pets were our fault, too. really, what was our job as children except for climbing into the van and running our hands along its orange shag carpeting while complaining we never got to go to burger king?

mickey, the neighbor kid continued to cross the street in our direction but while grasping and somewhat tugging the metal fence, we yelled at her to stay away. mickey was a liar, not well liked, and though that fact never stopped any visits, she was suddenly a potential threat to our departure. we tormented her enough to keep her out of the yard. the previous time she was over, mickey drank all of my yoohoo chocolate soda, using the excuse that she really couldn't taste it and by saying that kept having to taste more. third grade and dumb worked too but i was sure mickey was hated by her name alone. she had stopped by to brag that her family had collected all five different looney toon's cartoon character novelty glasses from arby's, and wasn't that great, and, well... well, big deal because we had them too, except our glasses were all of the road runner variety since my dad had ocd and insisted they needed to match. mickey had brown hair and the zeitgeist automatically made her a dog. my uncle woofed at her on occasion.

an old greeny-greyish car pulled up and stopped in front of the house. we sensed the day was ruined- all ready to go and how dare friends of our parents show up to postpone our trip! as six kids yelled towards the house for taller people, the front yard became our only centrifugal carnival ride. that rusty car door opened. two dogs bound around and protected the yard. it was going to rain. kids were screaming. WLS 89fm "musicradio" was touting fantastic plastic listener cards. mickey crossed the street to return home. the man was carrying a large pair of tree shears. the dogs barked fiercely. chimes rang as a few kids rode by on bikes. a bag ripped open, spilling tootsie roll pops to the grass. the predictable slam and metallic clank sounded from the gate as the man entered the yard. yelling came from inside of the house. a panic. a blur. a car horn honked. a cat started to scream but immediately stopped when it lost its head with the thunk of the chop.

silence. the man slammed the dead cat's body into the garbage can and then took the time to precisely return the cover. the shrill of the latch screeched as he left. the clanking slam came from the gate as it closed. the stranger drove away.

i drove back to ucla and set doctor #4 straight [and feel much better] but then invalid friend called him on the telephone on our drive home. chuck was nervous, used the word "basically" too many times, and "basically" asked him very loudly if he was trying to kill me [... since i "basically" do not need to be put on a medication that will increase carbohydrate cravings no matter how thin i am, "basically" eating disorder is 1000% worse than anxiety disorder but should not be messed with, and "basically" anxiety disorder is only showing due to the damn insurance review.] doctor #4 replied that he thought my body weight was very important. [why didn't he just say that originally rather than showing it no attention?] well, i feel better now but everyone else is upset.

oh my god, ups just delivered a package from motherfigure consisting of 20 pounds of cheese.

what do you call catatonic unresponsiveness if occasionally releasing a minor motoric twitch by finger? i do not refer to a catatonia, rather, a case of tremendous mental frustration where extreme negativity completely influences physical posture. for a few hours this afternoon, i was too sunk to move.

invalid friend chuck and i drove to the ucla medical center this morning for a final medication evaluation. afterward, we walked around westwood village and investigated a local bicycle store. since i have driven around the westside numerous times over the last two weeks, all parking nervousness and traffic issues were released. i knew exactly where to go, had intended the most efficient route, and was prepared to take the first, second, and third options for parking the car.

there were no problems. my mood was elevated enough to drive via surface streets over to supergo bike shop in santa monica (now "performance bike"). we hate that place. years ago it was an interesting presence, but now the shop is about to be bought out by 'performance bike' and an inevitable generic experience looms. stocked with specialized, weighless, and their own 'access' brand, supergo used to be a nice shop about ten years ago but now the only fun involves colorful customers from the diverse santa monica population.

[sigh]

everything is done for the insurance review, right? after this morning's appointment, i now have a prescription and am technically under a doctor's care so facilitating more papers or proof for the insurance review should not be an issue. over. why can i still not relax? i neither need to do anything else nor fret. [unfortunately "the review" is and will continue to be an issue until a letter is received from the insurance company stating that my problem is continuing. this is a logical, and therefore acceptable, anxiety.]

after a decent day of being out and about, i returned to chuck's house and googled the specifics relevant to my new prescription, and... and... mannitol is listed as one of its inactive ingredients.

now wait just a minute. how can this be? mannitol is a derivative of corn and i told doctor #1, #2, #3, and #4 that i am allergic to corn, wheat, egg, soy, and latex.
note: doctor #4 wrote down: allergic to paxil and zoloft.

i feel i have been ignored.
i have no voice.
what i say is inconsequential.
i am inconsequential.
anorexia is a very loud reaction to those feelings.

why does doctor #4 think i am allergic to zoloft? do we really know? i tell everyone how there were no spectrum considerations years ago when i tried zoloft but the medicine's *base* definitely made me itch. how does this make me allergic to the zoloft? it doesn't-- that part remains unclear. allergic to the pharmaceutical excipients (inactive ingredients) in zoloft's tablet form? yes. allergic to zoloft alone? perhaps not.

so what if there are numerous anti-anxiety preparations and combinations of medicinal compounds to try? why move on to another drug, or, as is the case of this new prescription, another drug class? wouldn't you think if a patient who had limited success on various infant-sized dosages of antidepressants said "what about zoloft oral concentrate" a doctor would consider the liquid or at least research the possibility? hasn't doctor #4 been taught that doctors are to run with all itsy bitsy positive things a difficult patient says?

consider: perhaps i didn't seem difficult.
consider: but i "said" i was obstinate.
consider: i did offer one arrogant answer.

after too much thought at the computer, i got upset and considered driving back to the clinic just to poke my anger into this new doctor's chest. at the very least i would be the opposite of the shy mumbler he saw this morning.

brain says: "this prescription was written out basically for the insurance review. it's over. shut up. you don't have to buy or take these pills! you don't have to go back to that doctor. leave it alone."

okay, so what? calm down!
it was only for the review.
who cares?

i will pay for these recent doctor appointments and think i should get something out of them-- whether or not i intend to use the information or treatment now isn't the issue. after all of the negative things i have written about trying another pill, i would try this medicine if there was no obvious reason or allergen to avoid. why not? due to my sensitivity, any benefit from the drug would be noticeable almost immediately.

knowing my medicine evaluation was related to the insurance review, doctor #4 assumed i had 'medi-cal' [a low income state-funded medical program in california] and therefore, all medicine he prescribed for me would be free. i do not qualify for the 'medi-cal' program (disqualified by my car's value alone) and, if choosing to fill the prescription, would pay for the medicine at a regular pharmacy. this attitude of his bites my ass because if i test it out, only a quarter of one pill per day would be needed. a prescription for five pills (or less) would be in order due to history of intolerance. since he thought i would get the medicine for free, doctor #4 wrote out the prescription for way too many pills. annoyed with this, i mumbled something about "owning too many stocks to consider applying for a state program or services." "i think 'medicare' pays for it then," he said, and signed the prescription. wrong again. i do not have 'medicare' either but know the original medicare plan will only pay for the costs of prescription drugs when a member is admitted into an inpatient hospital setting. is this doctor 'a sickening and contributing waste to everything wrong with the system' or was he 'the accommodating and good guy' who was trying to hand me a break?

why do i write that-- sickening, contributing to waste. is it just because he signed a huge prescription and doesn't know off the top of his head that mannitol is corn? well, yes. i wonder if his action could be seen as a physician also trying to alleviate anxiety? in using the large prescription, i would make one trip to a pharmacy rather than having to return soon thereafter. perhaps, looking in one direction doctor #4 is a jerk. perhaps in the other perspective, he is simply a nice guy.

another grip with this prescription: results of clinical studies and drug trials. more people on this new medicine reported weight gain than people who were taking a placebo. [i am about to choke someone. seriously, let me wrap my hands around a neck and shake---]

what?? is this guy new?? is he a resident? why would he prescribe anything on an outpatient basis which may increase or change appetite unless the patient is somewhat [--deleted--].

earlier this morning, i had whispered the word 'grave' when referring to anorexia and stopped, waving off the unfinished sentence. there is no other way to refer to it. suddenly, three out of the four doctors grabbed their pens when i whispered that word-- the fourth had no pen.

we were sitting in front of a surveillance mirror.
possibly being recorded?
oh, who the hell knows?
i feel so sick right now.

yesterday: i was a no show at appointment #1 with original unlicensed doctor #2 and this is my fault for not knowing the sepulveda pass traffic dynamics. then: doctor #3 at appointment #2 was three hours late so appointment #1 would have been fine had i showed up. note: doctor #3 is a 60 year-old eastern european female, was wearing some type of itchy looking plaid upholstery suitable for a severely unattractive sofa, and kept sitting so that whenever i looked at her i could not help but see down four inches of loose cleavage. today: appointment #1 has been scheduled with doctor #4. interesting idea: doctor #3 thinks that doctor #4 can work with ucla and formulate a personalized medicine for me. too bad i neither care nor have buckets of money to spend on research.

anxiety. one hundred problems. hair is still wet from washing it in the shower. car is filthy-- covered with pollen and fallen leaves from the rainstorm. i need to check on the tire at the service station because its pressure is low. must also pump gasoline. how am i to go about finding a parking space in westwood village for three or so hours without paying $8 at the ucla medical center lot? what about the problem of walking to appointment #1 in these loose shoes? how do i tell the doctor at appointment #1 that appointment #2 is scheduled within the hour and therefore i need to leave early? how do i tell doctor #2 that appointments with him are going to price me right out of dying a billionaire? where can i break a $100 bill for appointment #1 on the way there or should i bring a checkbook or what? do you think the doctor at appointment #1 takes visa? how much will appointment #2 cost? will the ucla anxiety disorders clinic charge me today or will they send me a bill? is this nail polish dry enough yet that i can dry my hair? should i wear a pair of yoga pants under these jeans so no one knows i have skinny legs? should i ask for a topamax anticonvulsant prescription for a mood stabilizer? [so what if it failed to produce a profound weight loss in multiple 'vanity dieting' clinical trials-- i would love to try it.] how am i going to pay for the prescription if i do obtain it? isn't topamax priced at $1000 a month for a full dosage? how much am i spending on the eating disorder per month? only a little over half of that. hold on, am i serious? even spending/wasting $600 a month should be looked upon as equal a nice car payment. what if i go to appointment #2 and that doctor #3 asks me if i am on any medication three times within the hour like the last doctor did? would this mean i am stammering to get the words out and he must confirm? does that mean my affect is exceptionally flat? does that mean i am inside myself? would it mean he was not listening? will that mean depression is worse than previously thought? why am i shaking? why am i nervous? why is my phone vibrating so much lately? who keeps instant messaging me? why does---

oh no, the clock. here it goes. i have to leave.

thank you for the online birthday cards. it was so nice to be thought of[and for you to spam my gmail address, basically rendering that tool useless, since now, clenched with frustration, bothering to look at the damn e-mail account doesn't even compute.] it has been incredible to see that blog readers will obsessively follow these posts, to the point of locating a physical encino mailing address [but then they send me letters on latex based papers apparently ignoring anything i have written about experiencing allergic reactions.] i think i might be teasing [but socialization certainly is dangerous.]

textbooks... online drug web sites... pharmacokinetics, pharmacodynamics, pse... to research and define inactive excipient ingredients in medications... gels, fillers... is this tablet gluten free? soy? will it excite a corn allergy? i feel the need to memorize every fact of any anticonvulsant or antidepressant drug that may possibly be prescribed *in case* this morning's appointment is kept. nervous. should have done laundry. why am i stressed out or even bothering? will i even take the medicine? perhaps. if i can find no reason to eliminate a preparation in advance, then yes, i will try the prescription.

daily life is such a waste of time. yesterday i took less than half of a six year old over-the-counter diphenhydramine caplet to counter an itchy reaction to soy and was out cold for most of the day.

the left side of my life evaporated a few days ago, but this time the white jolt woke me up in time to swear and breathe. i propped my head up, too late, but the next evening was calm and now tonight is one big vision disturbance. what? i said i have been experiencing localized neurological problems and am dehydrated.

tomorrow there are two doctor appointments scheduled for me at the same time and this is immobilizing seeing as 1) the meetings are of a similar importance, 2) i cannot decide which one to eliminate, 3) new appointments cannot be had for many weeks, 4) by now it is late enough to receive a cancellation fee on whichever appointment gets changed or missed, and 5) i do not really want to go to either of them.

[??]

ocd says that since i didn't improperly set up these appointments, then i will not be the one to unwind them [even though this might cost $50 each since i may miss both meetings, not being able to choose between the two]-- and i do not know how to break out from that thought.

today was supposed to be traditional wet bread at zoo station but instead it's been straight genisoy protein powder scooped out of an m&m mug and licked off of a plastic knife-- in los angeles. my ich liebe dich relationship with berlin and the grim zoologischer garten was ignored, an obligation ditched, but they are welcome to fire me. be my guest. i would love to get lost. people are careful. no one ever dares to confront. they continue to only bestow gifts and kiss up.

angry yet composed
frustrated at everything
at myself
guilt
- should not be home
lacking definitive words

consider: gave in to agoraphobia? relaxation?
anorexia says: "sloth."

note: stop waiting for other people and their job-tethered lives.
note: go, do.

consider: it is proven that i can travel alone!
consider: automatically, every time, i think it's impossible.

- i did not board the flight to europe.
- there was an allowance to miss, to skip out.

consider: this guilt.
consider: deflect this depression.

sick of the sexual nightmares and thanks to the crack smokers at last night's show, around two in the afternoon i dragged my ass out of bed. gotta pay the rent. this pounding headache, and its never ending sounds of train derailment are still bleeding on the select comfort mattress, but i have a transatlantic weekend to endure and probably should pack.

consider: give in to agoraphobia and not leave the house.

why does chuck try to tear his vip wristband off of his arm, going so far as to use his teeth to chew through the virtually indestructible paper, within seconds of exiting a concert venue? why doesn't he wait until arriving home so he can carefully use scissors at the flap and then flatten the wristband into the page of a heavy book? if not a souvenir, why would he choose to toss this potential gauge of obesity? doesn't he know it was meant to slide off of its own? never snackless, he could wear it forever, or at least leave it linger for the night. if not used as an instrument or reminder of size, a concert wristband belonging to the clinically squishy should then have the same expiration date as a greeting card.

speaking of which, the annual card from my grandmother arrived last week and is sitting on the shelf behind this desk. why i never open them, and instead eventually stash all obvious cards in my safe, is unclear. should i read it... and feel dragged down or embarrassed to think about innocent years? prior to rigid, i now shudder to construct the imaginary la-dee-dah. the obligatory card tells me i am nothing but a jerk since other people can effectively communicate with stoic octogenarians but here i am trying to convince myself to care.

i do care.
i am either keeping the person or the ritual safe.

if the mail is tossed out unopened... something bad will happen. obsessive compulsive disorder suggests my grandmother might die. what if that card, which probably has an illustrated cat on the front and only details cloudy weather, was her last contact with me? if i avoid forever, it will inevitably happen, and ocd can score. when ocd connects two unrelated situations together, other nonsensical concerns immediately gain weight. if i throw out the greeting card and my grandmother dies this week, how could i ever avert the next compulsion?

a few hours tonight were spent elbowing another blogger in the dark. i had assumed that when the opening act left the stage, we would have a chance to stretch for a few minutes, or at least unlock, but the surge from behind placed us closer together in the crowd. next time the main attraction will be a distraction. what if i lost my balance? what if i passed out? those aren't irrational fears. manchester sickness came to claim the third show in a row, but i forced myself to finish out the round.

it was tough, standing too near to steal glances, but there were only some small bits of nervous laughter. who was i to judge another person's reception- but it wasn't the right time.

flagrant says:
"i'd like to make an appointment for a medication evaluation."
receptionist says:
"okay! have you been evaluated?"

everything stops.
does not compute.
try again later.

[pardon me: blackouts, head-rushes, and wonky word omissions today.]

screw this. doctor appointment #2 with referral #1 was scheduled for 1:30pm, meaning it ended before 3:00pm this afternoon, and here i have just arrived home at 6:30pm. it's dark outside! taking three and a half hours to fight traffic (when filling up the car with gas in brentwood was the only after appointment distraction) is not only impractical but insane. it only took 19 minutes to travel door to door on the initial way down to ucla and that included time spent trapped in a locked parking garage concrete stairwell. it would have been funny on any other occasion, but i am glad it triggered fear and anxiety. what would have been the point of seeing a doctor if i was wearing an unaffected demeanor?

seven blocks of walking under the sun and skinny shadows were diagnosed with scoliosis, but i was preoccupied with moving bored hands around and changing my car keys from pocket to pocket. who knows what that was all about but it always happens. a live electric wire, sack of stress, a bag of nerves- don't you hate it when your body suddenly has all of these extra limbs and you don't know what to do with them? arms without a use can be such a preoccupation to neurotic types when in uncomfortable situations. they should be holding an object, or moving, or doing something besides just hanging there at one's side. when my arms get thought of too much they begin to expand, growing to gigantic in-the-way proportions... but if you don't even consider your arms at all, how can you keep track of what they are doing? that was the whole problem- having to pay attention without watching when not really in the mood to spy. seven university blocks at lunchtime- there must have been numerous students and three people did turn around to look at me, but with the constant scanning and mind racing i saw no one directly.

going somewhere alone to begin fixing on why i can never go anywhere alone, what the hell, but therapists understand and supposedly it's common... yet i don't go for it at all. that sentence is basic math and an agoraphobic arriving to an appointment cancels the equation. it smells like lies, sounds like fraud, chattering shelved so i must be well. apparently there is this thing called leeway interrupting my yes no black white all none true false win lose world but i prefer to follow THE RULES. never break THE RULES. THE RULES are a result of anorexia gone mad, having seeped into all aspects of DAILY LIFE to keep a pace. body weight, nutrients, exercise, financials, endurance, education, philanthropy, accomplishments- regulations of life force. who breaks THE RULES? cheaters. lazy bones. your common fatso. what if i've been so stressed out that the word "never" has just been erased from my vocabulary?

i'd cry.
never is the thinnest word.
never is even slanker than no.

i arrived to the appointment late.
[- having been locked in the concrete dungeon.]
the doctor arrived after me.
he didn't notice.
i win.

what was i supposed to do there?
tell this guy my life story in 50 minutes?
i'm much more interesting than that.

these doctor appointments are so expensive that finances are all i think about while gazing at their laces. today's referral #1 was the "cheaper option." doctor #1 wanted a $460 co-payment per session in addition to health insurance co-payment and to see me for two sessions a week. the frozen expression was perfected long ago and i didn't even cough as he recited his hysterical $4000 a month fairy tale. referral #1 charges $160 an hour on a two hour a week schedule [like that's going to happen] and it turns out since he is not yet fully licensed the insurance i am struggling to keep will not pay for any of it.

there was an instant rapport with both doctor #1 and referral #1. i found myself considering whether or not they could be occasional safety nets after the insurance has finalized, but absolutely refuse to pay those inflated fees. [they are neither specialists nor established.] certainly i am in no position to shoulder the costs of a new private practice let alone will i ever pay a dollar more than scale for a recent graduate who is only temporarily licensed under the supervision of another doctor.