I hate people
Not individuals. I’ve met many individuals that are mighty fine. As a group, however, as people, a herd, whatever, I hate ‘em more all the time.
This was re-confirmed by some things I read in journals of friends.
Much as I dislike Rush Limbaugh, this is dead-on. (stolen from )
Or, for those who’d rather be disgusted by what’s actually happening in Iraq, as opposed to the administration that lied its way into the war in the first place, you can try here. (via )
Or, if you’d rather be angry about something right here in the US, and look in disbelief at prejudice, bigotry, and the creation of second-class citizens right in one of our own states, you can always go here. (from and )
I hate people.
Mr. Sandman
WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU???
If someone spots Sleep, please remind him that I moved. Direct him to find me in Hellano. He appears to have forgotten.
I’ve been having problems with sleep for something like two weeks now.
I haven’t beaten my old record of ten days with no sleep whatsoever as of yet, but the sleep disorders are kicking up a storm.
In the last couple of weeks, I’ve had one bout where I went four days without sleep. Those times I have been able to sleep, it’s only after being awake for more than 20 hours at a stretch, and then I only sleep for two to five hours, and am awake again.
Couldn’t sleep last night, either. And wide awake now. The last time I slept was from noon to 3 pm yesterday.
I’m more tired than you could possibly believe. And can tell that I still wouldn’t be able to sleep even if I got into bed right this minute. I’ve got that exhausted, no energy to do anything much, but still wired feeling that often comes with these sieges.
I’m wondering if some booze-a-hol tonight will break this round and let me crash and catch up. I need it. I’m starting to get less functional.
And don’t be fooled. I’ve been told that my exhaustion is nothing because I’m an insomniac and “used to it.” The truth is that you never get used to being exhausted. Lack of sleep is lack of sleep. What makes people think that someone like me is used to it, and so have no room to say that they feel miserable, is that insomniacs like me learn to cope. It takes a lot for us to reach the point that we are exhibiting classic sleep deprivation behaviours, because we have learned how to be functional even in the face of extreme deprivation. It doesn’t, however, mean sleep deprivation is less uncomfortable and painful for us.
The next person who tells me to my face in their best get-the-hell-over-it voice that I’m an insomniac so I’m used to it, and I have no reason to claim I’m miserable because I couldn’t possibly be, will find out how sick I am of that. I’m likely to make a quite serious attempt to kick their teeth down their throat.
Pet Peeve
I admit it. I’m a word/grammar/spelling Nazi. Sure, I’m not perfect on the written word, and get more imperfect when I’m writing about something I feel strongly about, or am trying to rush to keep up with my thoughts. I have blind spots, words that I can never seem to remember the correct spelling for, though I study them. Grammar rules that feel slippery to me. Sure, I’m a better “technician” when it comes to writing than most. I’m most definitely not perfection at it, however.
I also know how much it drives anyone crazy to be constantly corrected. I keep my lip buttoned most of the time, though my offended sensibilities will scream to give a “friendly” correction. I know this because of my technical abilities with spelling and grammar. I was constantly corrected when I was growing up. And I do mean constantly. Mom’s a word/grammar/spelling Nazi herself. I usually characterize the process then as being “beaten into my head.”
Then I acquired a friend (no longer a friend now) who has aspirations to be a writer. His choice of words had some promise, his abilities with description, exposition, and prose were decent, and would probably have improved with use. His spelling, on the other hand, was purely atrocious. His grammar was even worse. His writing was nigh unreadable.
One of the things that ended the friendship was an attempt to give constructive criticism. After all, words and grammar are a writer’s tools of the trade. No publishing house is going to want a manuscript where those things are improperly used. It shows a distinct lack of professionalism.
My ex-friend seemed to feel that his poor spelling and grammar should just be ignored. After all, he’s a genius at writing, and anyone with any brains should be able to see that despite his semi-literate way of writing. It’s the excuse he hides behind to get around the laziness of not learning to use the tools necessary to the profession he desires.
Before anyone calls foul on that statement, let me tell you right now that he has no learning disability, no dyslexia, none of that. He doesn’t know it because he didn’t pay much attention in school, and doesn’t think that he needs to study it on his own. That would be a waste of his time. After all, the sheer quality of his writing should shine through despite these “minor” problems, he feels.
How likely would a hospital be to hire a doctor who not only didn’t learn everything he needed for his practice, but proved that lack of professional skills every day? And who, when called on it, told everyone that his failings should just be ignored because his special genius should shine through regardless? How often would you be likely to go to a restaurant where the chef had learned only the faint edges of how to cook, and so served up everything either burned or raw, with all the wrong seasonings? Who then, when you sent it back, came out to tell you that if you had any brain, you would see how naturally talented he is, and ignore his minor problems?
Not bloody likely.
It doesn’t take much to make a reader feel that something is unreadable. And if a reader would find it unreadable, it’s even more so at a publishing house. Editors get massive amounts of manuscripts, both solicited ones and unsolicited (which wind up in the “slush” pile, to be sorted through eventually by minor assistants, or else ignored.) Considering the sheer amount of wordage they need to read through in order to find something they think is marketable, it’s not likely that they will read past the first few lines of anything that is page after page of bad spelling, poor grammar, or ridiculous formatting. The less professional the presentation, the sooner it’s going to be rejected. Where’s all that “genius” then? What good does it do? It’s in the reject pile early, and buried by the works that at least were professional enough to be read and then discovered lacking in some other aspect.
Something as simple as forgetting that there is a space after punctuation can turn off a reader, and even more so an editor. Commas seem to be a particular blind spot I’ve seen again and again. Less often with a period, though I’ve seen it done. I’ve stopped reading journals of people who I thought were otherwise interesting simply because of the lack of spaces after commas.
My current pet peeve is the abuse of the apostrophe. I see it all the time, infecting more and more people. I can’t seem to get away from the growing number of people who use an apostrophe in almost any case where they are making something plural.
To quote the basic rules:
Apostrophes: Use and Abuse
Apostrophes are used for showing possession and for contractions; they are not used to pluralize.
All the judges met to discuss one judge’s complaint that her caseload was too heavy. The judges’ decision was that the complaining judge was out of line.
This rule holds even if you are pluralizing or showing posession with an acronym. If you’re having trouble figuring out whether an acronym needs an apostrophe or not, a good rule of thumb is to decide whether the last word of the acronym would need an apostrophe if it were written out, and make your decision based on that. (In other words, if you’re struggling with whether you should write ADAs or ADA’s, decide whether “Assistant District Attorneys” or “Assistant District Attorney’s” would be correct.)
The two ADAs glanced across the aisle. Defense counsel had somehow gotten hold of the ADAs’ case strategy. The first ADA groaned; the second ADA’s shoulders slumped.
Plural possessive versus singular possessive is another situation of abuse. A singular noun or proper name has an apostrophe before the s. A plural noun or proper name has the apostrophe after the s. A singular noun or proper noun that ends in s is followed by an apostrophe s.
The kids’ toys were scattered on the floor. Grace noticed one girl still in the playroom, a broken doll cradled in the kid’s little hands. Grace wondered how Kate’s favorite doll had gotten so thoroughly destroyed, but she suspected it was Travis’s work.
The it’s/its distinction is particularly prone to abuse. “It’s” is a contraction meaning “it is”; “its” is possessive, meaning “belonging to it.”
“It’s going to be a long night,” Jack grumbled. “The coffee machine seems to be running on its own.”
Another common apostrophe error is you’re/your. “You’re” is a contraction; use it when “you are” in its place would not alter the meaning of the sentence. “Your” means “belonging to you.”
“You’re wrong,” Jamie retorted. “It’s all in your mind.”
I spent a large part of the evening surfing around, looking for research material on a project (just one of the many.) And I found more and more of these. It’s been a slowly growing phenomenon. I can remember the first time I ran into it, back in the 70’s. I was reading Alien at the time, and the captain of the ship was Dallas (as anyone would know from either the book or the movie.) However, every time it was used in the possessive form, it was Dallas’ instead of Dallas’s. It knocked me out of my absorption in the story every time I encountered it. I remember thinking, even then, that the implication was there that there were two (or more) captains that did everything in unison, that Dallas was plural, and that they were both actually named Dalla if ever encountered in the singular.
All of which got me to the point of needing to rant about this. It has become one of my major pet peeves in writing. I let it slide when I see it, usually. As I said, I remember how obnoxious it is to be constantly corrected. I’m hoping that this will effectively be a little bloodletting on the growing frustration every time I try to read something, so I don’t suddenly go psychotic on someone because they put a punctuation mark in the wrong place.
In other news…
…quiz result. Taken mostly because it was a chance to think about something else, even for a minute.
| Which Medieval Language Are You?!
16th Century Italian Mozart wrote in you, and you sound evil. /// Oh, maladeto, an dia mo via di qua. (Curses be upon you, you better run.) |
| Click Here to Take This Quiz Brought to you by YouThink.com quizzes and personality tests. |
Poultry in motion
Lovely. I think I succeeded in breaking one of my toes last night on a leg of the coffee table. Six hours later, it still hurts, it’s swollen, I can’t move it, and it’s a lovely shade of blue.
Ugh. What I get for paying more attention to what my lunatic of a cat was doing than where I was going.
The evilness meter reminds me… one of my favorite sites for several years now, EvilPeople, Inc. is no more. I guess I lost that “job” in the Division of Vindictive Bitchiness and Manipulation.
However, in memory of EvilPeople, Inc, the vindictive bitchiness will continue. It’ll just be unpaid, done on my own time. :p
Protected: Only for some: The Sixth Sign of the Apocolypse
Permalink Enter your password to view comments
At last!
Night reg is fully staffed. If it doesn’t manage to stay fully staffed this time, I think I’m going to blow my brains out or something.
Since is now a Kinkajou, does that make her a Kinkashandra?
The obsession continues
For years I’ve wanted to do this, but most everyone I know is too embarrassed by the idea to join me, and it’d be better as a group.
So, I’ve talked about it, and never done it.
I still think about it, and if I ever find companion lunatics, I fully intend to do it.
I want to go barhopping dressed as a nun.
Among other things, I’ll have something to say the next time I’m told I’ve never done a religious thing in my life. :p
Edit, 3:30AM: Hmmmmm… Thinking about it, maybe we should wait for to get back from Japan. He can come along dressed as a geisha. I’ve already seen him (well, half his face, anyway) in geisha makeup. Hehehe
Dear Mr. InTheElevator
My email address book is gone along with the old computer. The one thing I forgot to do was to transfer my email and address book when doing the changeover, so I don’t have an email address for you now. I did lift one from your lj, but I figured a message here in addition would, at the least, reassure me that you’ve gotten the message. Sorry for the repetition if you already got the email.
It’s been a while since I last heard about whether you were in need of a theme song, and I know I’m not the only one who said that they’d try to come up with something. However, at long last, I do have three possibles for if you’d like to give them a test listen.
They’re in mp3 format, and I can either email them to you or burn them to a CD and snailmail it.
Of course, if you’ve already got a theme song, then none of that matters, and I’ll just leave ‘em on my machine for my own listening pleasure. ;)
Regards,
The Nut Who Mentioned Elephant-Shaped G-Strings on the Show
Public silliness
I haven’t had any in far too long. There are no 24-hour groceries around for me to go do slow-mo aerobics in the frozen food section to the Muzak.
Maybe I should hit the closest Denny’s and buy Jell-O anonymously for someone I don’t know.
Or hit Walmart or K-Mart to find a pair of bunny ears. Not as great as the antlers that got destroyed, but more appropriate for this time of year. And then wear them everyplace I go for a while. While singing “Bunny Boogie.”
The family is too accustomed to my silliness. They just shrug with a “there she goes again” attitude.
Though the giant dragonfly baloon in my mother’s bedroom did, at least, get a few comments.
Fun with venom
Shortly after I moved here, we had an infestation of black widow spiders all over the house. Seven or eight in the main house, two out in the converted garage that is my bedroom. We killed every one we found, and searched for others that might have been hidden in dark corners. We thought we got them all before they could start laying eggs.
Apparently, at least one escaped us. In the last week, I’ve found and killed five black widows in my room. One had built its web right beside my bed, in the space between my nightstand and the wall. Two of those were today, and I had quite an allergic reaction to the insecticide I then proceeded to spray into every dark space that might hide another spider.
I spent most of the rest of the day curled up in my mom’s room, on her bed, with my nose itching, burning, and swollen nearly shut from the allergic reaction. The swelling got up into my sinuses and gave me a roaring headache as well.
Tonight I crash in my Mom’s room as my room continues to air out, and tomorrow we go on another widow hunt out in my room to make sure there are no more.
If widows didn’t have venom capable of killing either a human or one of the household felines, I’d leave them alone. They’re rather fashionable, after all, with their black patent leather bodies and bright red hourglass mark. And I’ve always been rather fond of spiders. But the last thing I need is to get bitten by one, or to have my mom or one of the cats bitten.
If, on the other hand, they all moved into my cousin’s room and pumped him full of venom, that I’d like.
Unfortunately, my room with its dark wood panelling and slight dampness seems to be their preference. And the ones I’ve been finding have been huge. Far larger than the ones we found last year.
Hopefully, we’ll find them all this time.
Alrighty then
I just got the word that there are problems with one of my staff members being able to afford the trip down for BayCon. While she and her SO are trying to find a way for them both to make it down (since both are on my staff) I figured it would be a good idea to find an alternate in case their plans fall through.
I wasn’t going to do it this way, but I’m running out of time fast and I’m getting desperate.
Would any of you among my friends be interested in possibly working BayCon as a Kinkajou and sharing a room with the three of us who will definitely be there? Bearing in mind, however, that is the primary choice, and if she is able to make it, then the position is hers? In other words, would someone be willing to be an alternate in case this falls through completely?
Life in Hell(ano)
Today was really psychotic
I got out of bed because I had to throw up. I’m really sick. I mean REALLY sick.
I feel good because today I getting my lip pierced! Finally! Mom said I could and she’s signed the forms and EVERYTHING!
I’m so stoned.
Last night I had to shave my entire body. Apparently, the lice that I caught from Amanda’s friend are really hard to get rid of. I look quite strange with no hair and eyebrows. I’d post pictures, but my webcam is broken.
I want to tell the world that my girlfriend Amy is the bomb! She made pizza last night, and even though I burnt my lips on the cheese, it was awesome!!!
I am sharpening my knives before I go to work today, because I’m going to cut out Robert’s heart and feed it to him for losing my mail.
Today, I got a digital camera! Yes! Here’s ten thousand photographs of my cat.
I want to say thanks to the world for absolutely fucking nothing! You all suck. I feel so alone, no one ever reads this journal, or even comments to let me know that I’m not suffering alone. It’s cold here, and I want to die, but I cannot figure out how many of you to take with me when I go.
I went to the doctor yesterday, and he said I have bipolar disorder, which makes me different enough to be interesting, but the same as all the other cool people with bipolar disorder.
You should all do this quiz! It’s amazingly accurate. You just put in your name and birthday, and it will tell you you’re a moron.
That’s enough for now. But I’ll leave you with some naked photos of myself. (Not safe for work – teehee).
Created with the Gregors’s Semi-Automatic LiveJournal Updater™. Update your journal today!
Removing random commas from the list of interests has a bunch of duds, but there were a few that I did like:
anarcy anime
cuddling cyberpunk david bowie
discordian doctor who
jackie chan karaoke
my pet fag mythology
oceans on the town (would that mean Atlantis? That’s what I want to know.)
Other than silly memes, not a whole lot to say. Even I am getting tired of hearing myself whine about life in Hellano with the psycho cousin. So if I am tired of it, I’ll certainly give everyone else a break from it for now.

