Author: Dana Seilhan

Had a much better day today delivering. Really wondering why I couldn’t have had days like this all week. I’d be almost there. As it is, unless a miracle happens, I’m definitely giving myself until the third to get sorted. And it’ll probably be squeaky-bum time. God bless the UK and all their wonderful metaphors.

…

I’ve been gradually adding on apps to my new phone here and there. Yesterday it was one of my old gig apps. I’ve burnt some bridges with some of the others but had been trying to sort this one out because somebody fucked up. (Again. They have been fucking up almost since day one. I have made net pay of six dollars and some change in the more than a year, closer to two, since I signed on with this fucking thing.) They had it asking for my I-9 (citizenship/immigration status form) when you normally only need that once per employer (and I’m technically a temp so I’m the employee of whatever agency is running this thing). Kept going back and forth and getting piss-poor communication about getting it fixed so had written it off. But yesterday I got curious, and saw there were jobs listed. And tonight I looked into my profile details and holy shit, they fixed it. All my documentation’s there. Thank fuck.

The other cool thing is that used to be you got paid every week like with normal temp jobs, but now they let you withdraw up to 50% of your pay after you complete a shift.

Sooooo let me see how this week goes. If it’s looking really bleak I’ll give Elizabeth a status update and then start pulling shifts at Job Site. (Never mind the name of the job site. I don’t need you bastards hunting me down.) She’ll be happy to hear I have a job and possibly be willing to work with me. I’ll be happy to not have to cope with an extended-stay motel during the holidays. Job Site will be happy for the extra help. EVERYBODY WINS

I will also be one sore motherfucker. But this time I need to push through. Enough with the fucking whining.

I’ll very likely work there regardless. It’s 11 miles away from where I live, but I drive 100 miles on a good day with Uber. A 22-mile round trip is nothing. If I’d stayed with Dad it’d have been the same there. [checks] Fuck. It’s worse there. Between 37 and 38 miles in one direction between Iota and Lafayette. And Lafayette’s likely where I would have ended up working. Dear god. No. This is better. It’s actually comparable to the distance Matt drove in one direction when I lived with him and he worked at Northwoods. Assuming you don’t take the Henderson Road route. But that’s only three miles shorter distance.

…

Got the store set up finally. As you look at the prices I want you to keep in mind that typically, Etsy shops selling seed-bead stretch bracelets charge anywhere from $3 to $6 per individual bracelet. Also factor in the shipping because between the actual postage and then the tracking for first class, it’s gonna wind up around five dollars for the whole shebang. And that assumes one shipment per listing and that someone doesn’t combine a few together. I actually think I’m being more than fair. You can think whatever the fuck you want. Not relevant.

I mainly set it up because I wanted to stop worrying about whether I would have been able to sell anything. At least now if no one bites, I’ll know. But if they do, I would have felt awful never finding that out. Wibbly-wobbly, timey-wimey.

…

Missed the 60th anniversary. Gender bullshit has ruined most of what my girl and I loved together. This is just the latest thing. I’ve actually met David Tennant and I wish I’d punched him in his gendergoon face. I’d have broken my hand as I can’t hit for shit and likely been knocked flat for my trouble ’cause he’s a Paisley boy, but. Worth it. The absolute fucking betrayal. And that reminds me, speaking of selling shit: I need to ditch the last of my Doctor Who stuff. Someone will go for it if I price it cheaply enough. I just want it gone. Enjoy, ya lunatics.

…

If you’ve ever seen the newer Doctor Who you know why I went off on that tangent. Anyway. Store’s open, stuff’s there, now I have every excuse in the world to add more. So I need to keep doing that. This shit with Job Site is a stopgap and only contemplated because I need to pay rent. It’s not what I want to do with my life. Art and words, y’all. Art and words. That’s where my head is. That’s where I want to go. We’ll see.

…

People are still trying to get a hold of me about Dead Guy Money (someday… possibly he is still alive now). You know, he could have saved himself this bother by not driving me off. Bit late now. Send it to Doug.

Don’t think that it doesn’t bother me that I isolated myself like this. But honestly. How many more times do I have to want to bang my head against the wall because someone’s being fucking thick about basically nothing? No matter what I do, some shithead’s got a problem with it. Does not matter what it is. Could be entirely harmless/good, someone’s going to talk shit. I’m so fucking done. Take the shit-talking elsewhere. I mean, keep it up if that’s your fucking identity or something but it’s not like you ever pay attention to anything I’ve got to say, so… I would say “explain to me why I should listen to you” but, unfortunately for you, I’m done listening to you. Moving on now.

…

It’s late at night and someone is making noise in the parking area outside. This has happened before or I might worry more. I’m glad she extended me to January but I’ll be glad to let this place see my back end exiting when I move out. A little sad, too. I like the location and I like the place. There are a few things I would change if I could. Nothing catastrophic. I am just tired of people being fucking weirdoes and then expecting better from me. And tired of people being fucking weirdoes in general. I know it’ll never end. I don’t have to constantly put myself in its path, though.

…

Knees are feeling better. Not done hurting but like I said before, just surface pain. And what I thought was a cold coming on several days ago, I have no idea what that was. My guess is late allergies. Possibly fungal. The weather was certainly conducive. Fine by me.

Well, I didn’t go out yesterday because I had a strange sense that things might not be as busy as Uber was claiming they’d be, plus everything that was even open for Thanksgiving would have closed early and so it was likely to be a lot of drivers competing for very little payout. No thank you.

So today I resolved to start earlyish and get in a good day, thinking there would be people who’d want to stay the fuck home out of the Black Friday madness. Plus there was a quest.

Nah. It was still stupid. I didn’t even make half what I did Tuesday.

To be fair, I quit early. But my car’s also making me nervous. It needs an oil change, for starters; I’m likely going to put that other quart into it tomorrow just to be on the safe side. I figure if I could go two changes with the same filter because someone fucked up an oil change last year, I can go a little longer than 5000 miles adding in — this car’s an oil burner, apparently. But that’s not the worst thing. I’m hearing a squealing sometimes when I turn corners in parking lots. It’s not all the time, so I’m suspecting it needs topped up on power-steering fluid or perhaps even a flush and refill of same. I feel like if it were the belt or something else solid and mechanical I’d be hearing it all the time. But of course I can’t know for sure til a mechanic looks at it. I probably have the money for that but I still have to pay rent.

(Elizabeth has told me she knows a good mechanic who works for cheaper. I’ve heard nothing more about it and hadn’t wanted to pester — this was back when Pat was still alive, but he was taking his turn for the worse.)

I still have to drive it but I can’t see the point when things aren’t being very productive. If things had been bangin’, I’d have kept going and taken the risk. And they wanted me to do stupid shit like run to Marysville for ten dollars. I can’t wholly blame Uber either. This is assholes not wanting to tip. Again. Probably taking a fucking coupon discount too — Uber offers those, yes, but customers have to choose to use them.

Forgot to mention. The other thing that happens is I see active restaurants all around me on the fucking map but get trash calls and not nearly often enough for the amount of activity. It’s got to be heated competition with other drivers. I cannot fathom what else it could be unless Uber itself is throttling me. What the fuck?

And this was all following my fun little adventure this morning when I was getting myself sorted to leave and took out the trash. I then stepped over toward my car to get a bottle to fill for drinks on the go — and somehow I stepped wrong and fell again. At least this time I caught myself. No more nose mishaps and frankly, I can’t afford to have any more. I could have afforded the urgent care too, but (1) I have to pay my rent and (2) there would have been more of a bill because I’d have insisted on an x-ray. Bad juju, B’wana. But meanwhile, nose is fine but knees are very unhappy, particularly the left one which got the brunt of it. I got around okay, including a second-floor apartment, but I’m gonna be a little ouchy for a few days. Surface pain, thank fuck, not structural.

I wonder how many more times I can fall on these knees without breaking something important. I used to trip on sidewalks while running quite frequently when I was little. I’ve had a few falls on concrete floors and the like between then and now. I’m sure they’re not made of titanium naturally. I’m just thinking at some point I may need some titanium ones.

Sigh.

Every time something like this happens I’m reminded that if something really bad happens no one’s going to give a shit, that the only reason I ever hear from anyone is because they want something from me, that I need to be very very careful because I am all on my own. But I can’t predict or prevent everything.

It reminds me of Sandy, too, and how she had a massive heart attack and they found her in her mother’s house. No one said how long she’d been there but I can’t imagine it was pleasant. She had ended up split from her husband and their son had stayed with him. I think she and the kiddo were on better terms than Thea and I are (or Sean and I for that matter) but maybe that’s not saying much.

These men, they knock us up and then parade themselves around like fifteen seconds and squirt is landing on the fucking moon and then when they don’t want to look at us anymore they take the kid and run, or in this case hold on to the kid and watch us go. We’re nothing. They even convince the kids we’re nothing.

I wish I had an easy answer. I’m tapped, I’m afraid. As long as young women do the same fucking thing I did and think to themselves, Oh, MY man’s not LIKE that! He’s special! He gets me, and don’t listen to older women warning them what’s ahead, we’re gonna keep on going with this fucking fail spiral. And keep falling behind.

…

I’m fighting myself so hard and I don’t know which way to go. Every possibility is terrifying, I can’t trust myself to maintain even if I do improve my fortunes, and I don’t even know what I’m doing it all for. I go with an option, I fuck it up, and then I wind up worse off.

…

People pretending I don’t exist except when they want me to entertain them in some way isn’t exactly helping.

Nothing I can do about it though. Not and keep what’s left of my integrity. It’s all I’ve got ’cause God only knows the rest of you bail at the bat of an eyelash. Fuckers.

I went out today, even started kind of early, but then things tapered off. To be fair, people were getting ready for Thanksgiving tomorrow. The problem is that I needed at least another $40 and it just wasn’t coming. I can’t justify going to Upper Arlington from here for $4; I can’t justify going to Groveport for $10 or even $15. I would not go to Groveport at this point anyway. This is insane. And Uber keeps offering coupons. I want to go find their headquarters and burn it down. If I’m in a good mood I may let them all escape first.

[KIDDING I AM KIDDING FUCK OFF]

Seriously, though, at what point do we decide we’ve had enough of corporate douchetards who think it’s funny to discount our income right at the start of the holidays?

I’m flailing. I’ve made all these bracelets to list in my Etsy shop. They’re really quite lovely, but I’m hitting a mental block. I am terrified they won’t sell. Why on earth I haven’t been trying anyway because at least I’d know for sure they weren’t going to sell as opposed to having to wonder forever, I have no idea; the end result would be the same except I could tell myself that at least I tried. I need to get up early enough tomorrow to actually do it. The light will be good because I tried photographing these things already but they just didn’t look good under artificial light and I don’t have a photography setup. Natural light and I get along great anyway. Needs to be done. Enough.

I did get food sufficient to get me through the day tomorrow. I kind of want to try a bit more driving because allegedly Uber gets a lot of order & pay requests, and if I did four I’d get a $15 bonus, but it’s Thanksgiving. It’ll be huge orders, probably heavy shit to lug up to third-floor apartments because people are fucking assholes, and plowing through crowds of people, and then everything closes at 5pm or earlier. I really don’t know.

I guess this is where I admit I don’t even have $400 right now and we’re past the 20th of the month. And I only have as much as I do because I got that $250 from Columbus State. If I tack on that three-day grace period I still have ten days, but it isn’t ideal. I’ve taken too many days off this month, or had too many short days. Probably both.

“Bet you regret quitting Quantum NOW, huh?”

Even with this all hanging over my head? No. I only mourn the loss of the money and perhaps the medical coverage. None of the rest of that shit made it worth it.

Which is insane! But I’ve just never made a good domesticated beastie, I’m afraid. And there’s always something about some work sector or some specific employer that makes me want to run screaming for the hills. I should sit down soon and write out my thoughts on the matter. You think I’m exasperating now? Just you wait.

There are so many different things people can do to make money and/or contribute to society. I don’t understand why all the good stuff disappeared and we are left with only the shit. Whose bright idea was this? Lemme go burn down his headquarters. It’s guaranteed to be a him. Men ruin fucking everything.

Meanwhile, I have steak and some cream of mushroom soup for those green beans in the pantry and also a PUMPKIN FUCKING PIE BECAUSE FUCK YOU. There was ONE can of Reddi-Whip left in the dairy case, and it was a sugar-free variation. Did not care. I hate fake whipped cream. I have some breakfast fixings too. I’m kind of set.

Okay. Bed, soonish. Because I don’t need to make things worse for myself tomorrow.

Absolute solidarity with the women of Women’s Declaration International USA, who were brutally assaulted in Portland, Oregon today.

In case my brother peeks in, which I’m not sure he does as I don’t think I’ve seen him trigger the visitor counter, one of the women they attacked is Facebook friends with me, so there’s your odd little family connection. I support her 100% unreservedly in this matter. She speaks for me.

Everything the trans goons say about us is what they’re guilty of.

“They’re trying to erase us” When you add men to the definition of woman, “woman” doesn’t mean anything anymore. Every time women try to come up with an alternative word for ourselves, these fucks take that word too. We’ve been erased out of the educational literature published by major medical regulating bodies and advocacy organizations in favor of the too-vague word people. Please do note these assholes never believed we were people until they didn’t want to call us women anymore.

“They want us dead” Please do take note of their signs that say KILL ALL TERFS. That’s us. They want to kill us.

“They got Roe overturned” If you look at the text of the Supreme Court decision overturning Roe vs. Wade you find a curious little gem about how there is legal precedent that a state’s regulation of abortion “is not a sex-based classification” (go to that link, hit ctrl and F at the same time, type in “sex” and hit Enter and you’ll see it), essentially claiming that somehow a state can ban abortion without discriminating against a specific sex. The only way you can decide that regulation of abortion is not a sex-based classification is if you think that people of either sex can get pregnant. Now I wonder who signs on to THAT idea. Could it be… the morons who claim that men can get pregnant?

“They subscribe to conservative gender norms” Who’s going around saying that people who love spinny skirts, pink, and sparkles are women? Not us.

“They’re homophobic” Who’s going around calling gay men and lesbian women “genital fetishists“? Can someone please ask these assholes why they don’t plaster straight people with that label? I keep getting blocked.

I’m so fed up with this shit. I don’t care what happens to them anymore. I just want something done about them. They destroyed my daughter and they destroyed my life and they’ve fucked up everything I’ve ever valued or loved. Be as nice as you like, just fucking stop them. I can’t by myself. Grow a goddamn spine. Show some fucking principle. You all know perfectly fucking well what a woman is. We’re the ones you keep shitting on so you can simp for the men you call women because you know they’re fucking men and you ALWAYS simp for fucking men. We see you. You know we see you. It’s why you want to shut us up.

“That’s what you get for hating men.” No, darlin’, that’s WHY we hate men.

…I dunno. Even now, even with all this shit going on? I can’t say I hate all men. I WILL say those of you I don’t hate are on extreme probation: one wrong move and you go on the permanent shit list. The stakes are too high. I’m done with your fucking clowning. Shape the fuck up or fuck the fuck off. You will NOT be missed.

…

I want to start some shit here to fight this insanity. I don’t even know where to begin. One of the ways this movement has ruined my life is that I’ve been talking about this issue for many, many years (since 2009 or earlier!) and, over the same intervening years, have watched nearly all my so-called “friends” fall away, quietly for the most part, and pretty much to a person they’ve pulled off their disappearances after I’ve gone on at length about gender identity again. One memorable and recent exception not only took me to task but made it crystal fucking clear that she hadn’t understood a word I’d said on the subject. Every argument she had I’d already addressed, every logical failure of the gender identity movement I’d already skewered and disproven. WHOOSH right over her head. She didn’t understand or she didn’t want to. It should be noted she is also a highly stereotypically-feminine woman, so my theory is that her identity is all tangled up in this stupidity and if she had to concede it was all made-up bullshit, she’d have to reconstruct her identity. Got that? The fact we’re poisoning kids and mutilating young girls is less important than Vicki’s possibly having to think of herself differently. Holy shit. They’re all like this. It’s insane. What fucking planet did I wake up on? This is not my home world. This is some fruit-loops alternative dimension straight out of The Twilight Zone. Thanks, I hate it. Can I go home now, please?

I digressed a bit. Point is, now that I’ve been abandoned, where do I find like minds here? I know of a couple women, but they are constantly out of town and we’ve never met in person, anyway. It may be I’ll have to start off sneaky. I can make stickers. I might just do that for a while, see what happens. I won’t need a printing service and my printer can’t be traced to me (I didn’t buy it, I never registered it, and it’s an older model), so that’s one obstacle down.

We’ll see. If you start hearing about me on the news, change the channel, you fucking cowards. Don’t you fucking dare claim you were with us all along when we win, either. Nothing short of “we’re sorry, you were right all along,” paying for our children’s detransition and therapy, paying our legal fees, and kissing our asses for the rest of your miserable lives will do.

You put yourselves into this shit by being chickenshit. Don’t cry to me. I don’t fucking care anymore. I see what you are, and have nothing but contempt for you.

…

I got another day in. Didn’t start as early, but I suppose I did all right. I need to get into the habit, when I accept calls, of checking whether the dollars and miles match. If the entire trip is more miles than I’m earning in dollars then I need to reject the offer. I would have some wiggle room if I’ve had some good runs and then get a stinker because it will all average out, but I have to be careful with that. It’s not worth going 100 miles a day — which I do, routinely, more often than not — if I’m not also earning $100 or more a day.

You people barely tipping for big shopping trips or whatever need to get off your fat asses and go get it yourself. I am fat and I’m running circles around you. But they have motorized scooters in those places and disabled seating. So you don’t even have that obstacle.

I was saying a while back on Facebook that while there are definitely issues with the wealthy and how they treat the poor and the working class, at the end of the day it’s the wealthy being willing to shell out more money, while the middle class think they’re entitled to luxuries at Walmart prices. Worse than nouveaux riches. Totally without class in every way that counts. I’m not going to cry when the middle class disappears any more than I’ll cry when the gender-identity simpers are finally discredited and publicly shamed. You’re fucking asking for this, so sit the fuck down and take your medicine. You cannot have a middle class when the poor have no hope of climbing out of poverty. Where the fuck do you think the middle class comes from?

…

I need to double-check but I’m pretty sure I can get on the VSP vision plan, and I should. I haven’t said anything all along but I think my eyesight is going to shit, and not just my close vision, either. I’m hoping it’s just blue-light damage or something. I would not be ashamed to wear bifocals; in fact, I’d rather have those than have to do this constant song and dance of taking my glasses off to drive and so on. But if it’s something worse than that, I don’t know what I’ll do. I’m extremely visually oriented. It’d be as bad as losing my right hand. But will I get on the plan anytime soon? Dunno. I am not my own best friend, I suppose.

Which reminds me. I meant to ask on Facebook about this and whether anyone’s noticed it, but I’ve begun wondering if the reason everything looks duller is just my eyes getting older. And what do you know. Goddamn it. I suppose I’ll be getting cateracts removed when I’m a bit older, too — Dad did.

But the thing I originally was talking about here wasn’t colors looking duller. I’ve been 20/20 my whole life, but now stuff farther off is starting to blur. Meh.

…

Have not heard back from that cleaning outfit. Not at all surprised. I have to say this is probably another way the gender identity movement is ruining my life because while I’m being much more of an asshole about it lately, you can’t even NICELY object to being politically misdefined and erased without employers looking at you going “nope…” They can tell themselves they’re still hiring women even though it’s cocks in frocks, and the feds back them up. You people who think this is all our fault for Not Being Nice actually thought society was mostly over with men oppressing women. Holy shit. I TOLD you. Even before this became an issue. When you cannot even object to your own erasure and to others’ sexual harassment and oppression of you, you are NOT liberated.

I should have started figuring out an alternative path back in August. I just feel so stuck. Like I have all along.