I shot an arrow into the air...

Every so often I throw out a line to the universe, and see who (if anyone) really responds.  It kind of keeps me in touch with my basic humanity.  Think of it like being at a cocktail party or bar... where you just chat up random strangers; except for the preconceived notions of who they are and what they look like.



Some of my best conversations started this way; but they are rare and treasured. 



The gal who I was complaining about, another lost soul in the madness that is this city; visited last night and we had a pleasant time.  She bought/cooked dinner; which was her trade for sleeping on my couch I suppose.... and no karmic debt was incurred.  However, I did detect the occasional edge of what-in-the-past has created great drama; and just avoided it.  She did so, kinda automatically as well.  And off again... for whatever goal she's chasing...  but I did get a salmon dinner and some decent conversation.   And no-one was harmed in the exchange.  I just have to reprogram my brain...



One of my other roommates got to vent about searching for a replacement car to her... since I'm very done with his extended search... (he totalled his a month ago) and she was interested and helpful... and I didn't have to "help".



meanwhile I stave of the madness in little ways...  



Oh the humanity...Snap.

Implicit Bias

An implicit bias, or implicit stereotype, is the unconscious attribution of particular qualities to a member of a certain social group.

I'm an older (duh) white male living in a Los Angeles suburb.  In a  condominium.

I also face the pool in the complex, and (because I am on the board of the association) occasionally face the task of trying to get people to *play nice*.

If they are playing music too loud (yes, it is subjective), or creating havoc or destruction, then I am prone to go in and point out that they are being inconsiderate; specifically, since we have rather warm evenings and nights, being in the pool area after hours; which would be 10 pm on a weeknight or Sunday. 

I am also mindful that being an older white guy, I exactly match the stereotype of the oppressor vis-a-vis black and Hispanic young men.  I'm as uncomfortable confronting teenagers as they are at being accosted or challenged.  Just because someone is being loud and having a good time is not a good reason to tell them that they cannot do so. 

It is a difficult situation for all concerned, the kids  (ladies and young men) are just having fun; high spirits and playful... and I do not want to discourage or ruin that.  On the other hand, feedback on manners is appropriate; but I am pretty sure that anything I say in that regard will be colored by the toxic climate in our society today. 

It is a dilemma; and I have no good answer.  Somehow, we have to all get along.
Just because I or others may not appreciate the music played or the volume; does not give me the right to deny it.  I remember when "over 30" was a catchphrase for judgmentally deficient and hidebound conservatism.  I do NOT want to be that.... oh wait.  Snap.

Alcohol + rage + frustration = shitty outcome (Does it matter?)

Once again, I make the mistake of trusting someone with a drinking and anger problem. And no, I'm not clean here, I'm equally to blame.  Because I know better.
So when I tell the truth (ungarded -- which I agree I should not have done), she flips out.

So I wanted a relationship.  That isn't going to happen.  Oh, I'll get screwed all right, just not in a way I'd like.  I just blocked everybody.  They can go sod off for a day or week or so...

And yes, I can be a  jerk

Hey Doctor... it hurts when I do this...

So, got a call today from the former roommate.  She was pretty wound up, and asked me to come get her.  OK... once more into the breech.  Oh wait, (long irrelevant story here)...  but basically she's protecting a kid from his parents, who maybe are abusing drugs, and some issue came up.
The house has 5 to 7 cats in it, and is a shithole, and it's cleaner because of her than it was.

So we go to the park for a bit and meet up with some official type folk about the story, and then she decides that she needs to go home to pack, and will be ready in an hour because she's really pissed about how it turns out.  And... just before I go to fetch her (prearrainged), social services drops the kid off with her.
And... oh wait... the two broken parental units reappear.  Not incarcerated, and no mission accomplished.  Just...
So she bolts; goes to deal with her issues her way... and promises to call me at a particular time, which comes and goes.  No surprise.  That way she doesn't hurt me.

Doctor it hurts when I do this...

Can I make someone else hurt instead?  Please....  I don't know whether to be madder at the fake parental units who caused this mess, or the DCFS office that can't get their act together.

So, another interview, another chance to prove I'm right... (they don't care)

Yet another agency wanted me to come in for a face-to-face.

As if they couldn't do the entire thing via Skype.  I got lucky this time and was able to park for free for two hours (not that I  am going to take that long).

It is amazing how young they are.  I guess from my perspective.... they are all children.  Even the manager, whom I spoke with for maybe three minutes; trying like hell to not get mad because she has already dismissed me as not useful to her.

They have a process, and it's probably about the best you can hope for; because someone figured out that if they keep asking questions, they may eventually hear something that they like.  Or, perhaps not...

I'm a Information Technology person who used to be a developer; and I miss it more than you know.  Where you actually *did* something useful, and created from scratch...

Now I'm just another short-order cook on the information highway.

Pain causes poetry

 whores come and whores go
Where they live, nobody knows.
damaged goods, broken souls
lying faking surviving
barely shows.
It doesn't matter to me.
They're worthless trash it's said
family hates
no friends no hope
just endless "dates".
Broken and angry
thief in the night
justify yourself in the neon light.
Rob and steal, inject and lie dazed
from families broken
unhinged and unmade.
Worthless
dangerous
evil
and gone
you accept this
because you are done.
So they do these things showing disrespect for the whole human race.
Armenian. Mexican, black and I'm white, not right.
Race matters not,
it's entirely for spite.
You made your bed,
it stinks of risk.
you fulfilled your destiny
it is reduced to this.
I would weep for you now dears
if I had any left to give.
Instead feel my (metaphorical) knife
the only role I live.
You say you are worthless, and make it so.
It's up to you now, to change and to go.
Decisions...

So, what the fuck?

I got a call from my ex-roommate.  She told me that she talked to the detective, and said the entire allegation was based upon her being drunk and that she didn't hold to the accusation *after* sobering up.  That we were friends.

Now I wait.  And see what the detective makes of it.  Because, I still could get charged, and at very least for assault...

In AA they talk about amends.  As in ... doing something to apologize and *fix* the damage done prior.  As if that would remove the damages.

News flash, amends are only worthwhile if the person responsible actually feels remorse for the actions taken while out of control. If the person responsible doesn't own it, any apologies are worthless.