So, I’ve been researching and looking around and studying and holy crap is there a lot to do before I can get this going.  (I’m talking about the animal sanctuary.) Now, I knew that it would require a tremendous amount of work and I knew it was going to cost a lot of money, especially in legal fees and ensuring I get permits and zoning is right and the land and buildings....it’s a lot.

I’m just wondering if there are any legal beagles out there or anyone who has any sort of knowledge on my first step.  See, what I was thinking is while some people are generous before it all even starts, I need more generosity that will go towards this whole operation.  Most people will be leery to hand over a check unless they know, for sure, it’s going somewhere legit. 

Therefore, the question is:  Does anyone know if I should apply for my non profit status now and then be able to ask for donations so that I can get the land, get the buildings, get the inspectors, pay all the legal fees, etc. OR am I even able to do that if I don’t have anything right now? 

Also, is anyone out there even willing to help me along in finding out answers to the multitude of questions and problems that will arise while getting this all set up?

In a sense, I’ve done the first step.  I’m in Florida and that is where I want to be.  I think it’s better for a sanctuary because I won’t have such high heating costs in the winter; a savings, really.  Plus, it seems to me that this state does have quite a few rural areas where maybe I am able to buy up some land; lots of agricultural areas that aren’t as strict about how many/type of animals as are other locations near people.  (And that’s key:  I need to be far enough away from people that no one pisses and whines about it but close enough to people that they can get there and adopt or volunteer.)

The second step, in a way, I’ve already been doing.  I’m not going to get too far in to it here on a public site but where I am right now actually is helping me to save money faster than I would otherwise have been able to do.

The third step is getting more money for this.  I need donations and investors.  I don’t know...are they investors if you don’t make money off of it?  But I also know that people will be more likely to donate if they know it’s legit and if they know it’s a tax write off.  Because, to be honest, without that money, I just will not be able to afford the land. 

So what are your opinions or advice on how to go about this?  I’d prefer something based in experience whether by you or someone close to you rather than speculation.  Speculation and assumptions can cause a lot of problems later on.  Anyone know anything about becoming a non profit and if you can apply for that first and get donations or if you have to be on land, with things set up and then become non profit?

IF I am unable to become non profit before I have established myself and have people’s trust...how the hell should I go about raising money?  What is legal?  Can I do contests?  What do I do?

Kids, I really, really want this to work.  And I know I’ll be starting off very small and I know it will take awhile to get going and I know it’s going to be hard but I want this to work.  But sometimes, people cannot do everything on their own and any help you can all provide, I would really, greatly appreciate it.

Ideas, kids, give me your ideas!  Thoughts, suggestions, advice, opinions, anecdotes, whatever.  Give me information!!!!  Please.

By the way, I plan on housing dogs, cats, rabbits, rats, other assorted rodents, birds including chickens and as time goes on and I learn more about different types of animals and their care, (or if I have volunteers who have that knowledge), I’ll also help other animals.  I’m just starting off with the ones I know how to take care of.

Update I found the perfect piece of property!  It’s 116 acres of beautiful and I mean BEAUTIFUL land.  Only $400,000!!!  C’mon guys!  Start donating!

(I’m being facetious...it is gorgeous as all get out but damn, I guess only in my dreams.  Still, want to look at it?  Just to see how wonderful it is?  Click Gorgeous And Out Of Reach...sob!.)

Ok, yah, that’s a little steep...but man...ok, how about this?

A Slice Of Heaven.  Hey, it’s only $345,000!  I’m saving you $55,000!  C’mon!

Update The Second Ok, so as far as I know, 2 acres is just about the size of a football field, a little wider.  Right?  So, I’m thinking, I would need no less than 15-20 acres.  Any of you farmers or people who live in rural areas and know better than I if that would be sufficient?  Should I have more?  I don’t intend on doing horses at any time because while I love them and know that many need rescue, honestly, I’m scared of them.  I’ve been around them, I’ve ridden them and I’ve had good and bad experiences with them.  I just don’t know enough not to be scared of them.  For some of you that may sound silly but there it is.  I’m scared of them because one kick and you’re done.  And they know you’re scared of them.  One thing I do know about horses, they aren’t stupid.  So, I wouldn’t need land for them to run around in but need enough land to be able to potentially house many, many animals and have space between them so they are all comfortable.  Is 15-20 acres enough or am I thinking too small?  I need this kind of information as well so I know what kind of money I’m looking at and what to ask for when the time comes.  I also need land with electricity and water and septic so I’m sure that will drive the price up, yes? 

All the information you can provide, don’t be shy, don’t think I already know it, any information, little or big, bring it.

Also, in terms of acreage...let’s say the seller has 268 acres for sale.  They then state, “available in 11 parcels”.  What is a ‘parcel’?

Update Part Three Ok, let’s say someone is selling 31.5 acres, (not a “lot"), for an insanely reasonable price and at the end of the blurb, they say this:  “Zoning is Agriculture which permits a density of one unit per five acres. “ What does that mean?  Does “unit” mean home?  If I were to buy up all 31 acres for myself, I would have a single home on site but would also want other buildings to house the animals.  Does that mean I can only have one building per 5 acres or are they only considering “unit” to mean “residential dwelling”.  Or does “unit” mean something else entirely?

One of the reasons I have requested to have Mondays and Tuesdays off is because when I do have to go out in to public, most of the public is at work and that helps minimize my asshole quota for the weekend.

So, it was with great reluctance that I pulled myself out of bed this morning to get dressed and prepare myself for the onslaught of shitstupid pricks.  I just hoped that I could get out there, get my stuff and be back within a short period of time to lessen the drama and heartache.

I hopped in my car and pulled out of my neighborhood only to find myself with a pretty clear road ahead.  Nice.  It wasn’t until about the middle of my travels that, naturally, some douche pulled out in front of me.  Scoff, of course!  However, it wasn’t too long before I had to make a turn and they went in the opposite direction so it wasn’t too bad. 

After my turn, I continued on and was again about halfway down the road when yet again, another twit pulled out in front of me.  I hate when people fucking do this especially when there is NO ONE behind me!  You can’t wait 5 fucking seconds for a clear, free turn?  But again, it wasn’t long before I had to make another turn so it wasn’t too bad.

I pulled up in to the parking lot of the grocery store and got out with a sigh and steeled myself to deal with arrogant fucks inside the store who get pissy with me for having the audacity to speak English.  Here.  In America.  The nerve of me.

I did my shopping and for the most part, it was empty so I didn’t have to encounter too many rude snots shoving me to the side of the aisle.  Got everything and proceeded to check out. 

No line.  In fact, a checker saw me looking for an open register and told me to come to his lane and got me started right away.  And he spoke to me in English.  In fact, he spoke English right from the start and did not ask me how I was doing in Spanish.  WHAT!?!  That was surprising, as well as refreshing.

Got done with that, loaded the car and headed off to Home Depot.  Now...kids.  I despise going to this Home Depot because I can never find any help, no one speaks English very well and it typically takes me an hour to do something that should take only 5 minutes.  One time I actually was so pissed off I did call for the manager after waiting a half an hour for someone to show up to help me when they had been paged by another Home Depot employee.  I was NOT looking forward to this.

I walked in the door and was immediately greeted by a lady who, AGAIN, spoke to me in English right off the bat and asked me if I needed any help finding anything.

HOLY SHIT!  Really?!  SERIOUSLY!?!?! 

I informed her of what I needed and she thought for a minute thinking it was on aisle 10 but asked another employee just to make sure.

I almost fell over in a faint. 

The product I needed was actually in aisle 9 and that was confirmed by the other employee she asked just to make sure.  Still, she was only one aisle off and she made sure before I even started looking. 

I went to aisle 9, found just what I needed and proceeded to check out.  This particular Home Depot is pretty notorious for NOT having anyone around in a regular check out stand but pretty much makes everyone do self check out.  For anyone who has read all 7 years of my site, you know how I feel about self check out.  And, usually, I can find no one around to assist when self checkout hell begins.  (The machine starts yelling at me that I’m doing it wrong and mayhem ensues and it’s all rather embarrassing, chaotic, annoying and mentally exhausting.)

However, when I walked up to self checkout hell and placed my items on the ground to get my money ready so that the machine would not start yelling at me to give it my money, NOW, damnit, you snail, you moron, give me your money!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!, someone came over and scanned the items for me!

HOLY SHIT!  ASSISTANCE?  Assistance before the crap starts?

This gave me ample time to get my money and insert the cash in to the slot before I got my ass chewed out by a fucking machine.  I did, apparently, take too long to pick up my items as I was trying to put my wallet back in my bag but again, it wasn’t too bad.

I then proceeded out the door and immediately some man asked if he could help me carry my stuff to my car.

HOLY SHIT!  Kindness?!?!!?  You sure you don’t want to just watch me struggle instead?!  (One time, I actually had someone stop and stare at me and say, “I’m just wondering how you’re going to carry all of that!  I can’t believe you’re going to carry that without any help.  Don’t you have a husband or kid to help you?” as he stood there, NOT helping.)

I told the guy he could help carry one awkward box for me and when we got to my car, I thanked him very much.  All he said was, “No, no, no problem!”

Woah!

I got in to my car and headed for home.

Not one single person pulled out in front of me and most people actually drove the speed limit.

I was done with my errands a half an hour earlier than I was hoping for.

I don’t know what they put in to the water today but I hope to God they keep doing it.  In fact, I’m so pleased with it all that I’m actually going to take the opinion survey for Home Depot and let them know what a great improvement today was over every other time I’ve been there.  Companies need to know when they do something right, too, ya know.

After that, I’m going to continue sitting here in a state of shock that people were actually helpful, considerate and kind today.  I’m not quite sure how to handle that!  I just know that I like it.

First, a little background.  I believe I’ve mentioned this character a time or two on this site.  I have a co-worker who lives in my neighborhood and unfortunately, that means I get to know more about my co-worker’s life than I care to know.  I call him Paris because he is always vying for attention even if it means making himself look stupid.  And I mean, STOO!  PID!  When he tells his stories, he thinks everyone is laughing with him but no, we are all laughing AT him.  Idiot.

Anyhoo....as I was thinking about writing this little story, I thought of another story of another neighbor and thought maybe I should start off with that one.  You know, kind of ease you in to the filth that lives around me.  But no, I think I’ll go right for the throat and deliver the second story as a kicker.  You know, while you’re down?

Last week, PH, (Paris, remember?), was in his house with his son and his son’s girlfriend.  They all live there and you can always hear them blabbering, getting drunk, cranking the shit music too high, you know, typical crap neighbor stuff.  I always thought PH was just a piece of shit, lonely, lacking self esteem and really stupid but I was wrong.  He’s worse than that. 

See, at about 8pm last week, he came flying out of his door, out of his yard and in to the street, yelling and screaming about something.  Naturally, the neighborhood was interested, (or, in some cases, had no choice but to hear), in what was going on.  Slowly, heads poked out of doorways, people wandered in to their yards to watch the latest spectacle.  Oh the fit PH was throwing.  A temper tantrum of incredible magnitude.

He stomped back and forth, practically frothing at the mouth, arms gesturing wildly, beady little eyes growing smaller, face getting darker and darker red, it was something to behold.  Everyone wanted to know what was going on.  Why was PH so mad!  What could they do to help or maybe calm him down?

And then, PH said something that made us all realize, there wasn’t a thing we could do.  Hell, there wasn’t a thing we wanted to do.  In fact, after PH revealed the problem, at the top of his lungs for several blocks to hear, everyone went back inside and tried to pretend they didn’t hear what they just heard.  Or in some cases, some people giggled about it for hours afterwards.  (No, not me.  I was hovering over the toilet waiting for the puke to rise.)

You see, kids, what upset PH so much was something that had happened inside the home.  Apparently, and I don’t know how, nor, frankly, do I WANT to know how, PH caught his son with something PH owns and PH was mighty upset about finding it.  How he found it, again, I just really do not want to know.  But when the item was discovered on the person of his son, PH decided to fly out of his home, through his yard and into the street to bellow, at the top of his lungs for all the neighborhood to hear....

PH:  “Get my buttplug out of your ass!  That is my buttplug!  I cannot believe you are using my buttplug!  Gottdamnit, why are you using my buttplug!?!?”

...........

...........

Yes.  Apparently, at some point, the son found a butt plug sitting around in the house.  Obviously he didn’t buy it.  His girlfriend didn’t buy it.  But he decided to go ahead and insert it in to his ass anyway.  And, apparently, at some point, his father, PH, was staring at his son’s butt and noticed his buttplug in his son’s ass.  And then proceeded to inform the entire neighborhood about it.

...........

...........

...........

Right.  Shall we go on to the next bit now?

The neighbor who lives right next door to me has a little history of his own antics out here.  Thankfully, what happened did not happen while I was here, living next door to him.  DrunkFuck, we shall call him.  Apparently, some time back, DF was also a crack addict.  For all I know, he still is.  I just see him drunk.  All the time.  And he’s one of those drunks who never shuts the fuck up and thinks he’s the authority on everything in the world.  I try to avoid him at all costs and only talk to him if absolutely necessary.  Like, when the stupid fuck puts his BBQ grill right under my bedroom window so that when he BBQs, my house fills up with smoke and carbon monoxide while I and the cats choke.  After two times of this, I had to confront DF. 

Anyway, so, he’s in his house one day, drunk, coked out, all kinds of messed up.  (Such winners in this neighborhood.) As the legend goes, at some point in time he got in a fight with his old lady.  (Different person than who he is with today.) I don’t know what the fight was about or what started it and I don’t care.  I do know that alcohol + drugs + two idiots = fight.  So they were arguing, loudly, and getting in to it physically.  I mean, physically hurting each other.  Somehow, DF ended up in just his underwear.  Again, I wasn’t here, I don’t know, I don’t care.  However, during the altercation with the old lady, she somehow managed to pull his underwear off of him and fling it out the door.

It smacked the window of the neigbhor’s house and stuck there for a minute before sliding down the side.  The neighbor was inside their home, minding their own business when they heard something slap the window they were sitting next to.  They opened the blinds and were greeted by a pair of underwear filled with human shit stuck to their house.  They then, in horror, watched the underwear slide down the house leaving a trail of residue behind. 

Now.  Kids.  Are you getting the full picture?  Are you now understanding how serious this is?  Will you start taking me seriously in what I say from here on out?  When I say something, it’s because I fucking mean it.  It’s not because I can’t handle something small or the things that bother me are petty.  It’s because I fucking mean it.

Are we all on the same page now?

I hope so.  Don’t make me pull out more of these stories because I do have more. 

While it may be intended or not, there are times when I feel patronized by some of the things some people say to me in comments and it bothers me.  I decided that maybe I have not made myself clear for everyone and that I wasn’t illustrating it fully so that you all could/would understand.  I hope this clears any of that business up and that, in the future, you might all give me the benefit of the doubt when I say something is wrong, something is off, something is bad, something isn’t right, something bothers me, etc.

These are my neighbors.  When I say my neighbors suck and I can’t wait to get the fuck out of here, I mean it.  Do you understand now?

I have a story to share that would fully explain my neighbors but I’m just not sure how much “disgusting” you can handle.  What is your tolerance level, kids?  And I mean, gross, disgusting, I really did not need to know that, someone please erase my memory sort of story.

I have to share it with someone.  I cannot go through life with this information kept to myself.  But, I just don’t know what you all can take.  I know I can barely take it...hell, no, I can’t take it and this only drives me on towards getting the fuck out of here.

Nonetheless, I’ll share it only if you all can take it.  If I were Acidman, I’d just throw it out there and you would all have to suck it up and quit your sniveling about it but I’m not Acidman...I’m asking before I scrape your braincells from your head.

Boy I tell you, it’s amazing what a few words can do for a person.  What I really wanted to do is just not going to happen and as I realize this, yes, I harbor some resentment.  Resentment, anger and sorrow.  Fucking assholes...what was their gottdamned problem?

But, after reading the comments, I’ve made a slight change in how I do things.  It’s going to be hard for me but it’s a first step in many of the small steps I’ll have to take to accomplish what I wish to accomplish.

May sound silly to all of you but for me, it’s pretty big.  See, I don’t like to owe money.  I don’t like the feeling of knowing that someone can take something away from me if I don’t outright own it.  And many times in this life I have not done the, “Pay yourself first” business when I’ve been paid but have paid everyone else, leaving me with little.

What has happened as a result is that when shit hits the fan, because I’ve paid everyone else and not myself, I’ve had nothing to fall back on.  Granted, I’ve never been wealthy or anywhere near that playing field...hell, I haven’t even been in the stands as a spectator, and as I wrote, (actually, added to a list that I copied and pasted about what it is to be poor), there is no room for error when you don’t have money.  There just isn’t.  Everything is hard when you are poor.  EVERYthing.  And it’s downright exhausting.

Last night, I decided to count up all of my tips and the four checks I haven’t cashed yet as well as what I have in my bank account.  It’s not a whole lot but it was enough for me to pay off my car, pay my insurance for the year and pay an extra amount on something else; something I’ve been working on to ensure that I’ll have a damn roof over my head always.

And I was very, very, very tempted to do it.  Just plunk it all down and I wouldn’t have to worry about anything.  Just my measly little satellite bills each month.  What a great way to live!

Except...what if something happens?  Or, what if I saved that money and put it towards getting THE HELL OUT OF HERE!?!?!

I was actually unsure what I wanted to do but I held off for the time being while I tried to make up my mind.  Like I said, I hate, hate, hate owing money.

Then I come here and see these comments and while they are all rather encouraging, (God how nice that is to hear), I think it was physics geek’s comment that did it.  Something about “something came along out of the blue and I ran screaming out the door” hit the right nerve.

I will indeed run screaming out the door when I leave here and I will be so fucking happy when I do, (provided I do it on MY terms and on MY initiation), but the only way I’m going to get there is to have some money to do it. 

This isn’t the best time to be looking for something else but I can save up a big, fat chunk of change in the meantime and what I have now is one hell of a good start.

So, while normally it’s better to pay off your bills ahead of time, I think, in this situation, it’s worth it to continue to make the payments I have been making, (still giving them more than the minimum each month to apply it to that principle), and save the rest.

Because if there is one thing I’ve learned in this life, when you are ok financially, you have so many more options than you do when you are not ok financially.  And one of those options is to tell them where to shove it.  Knowing that I’ll have the money to leave when I’m ready will make things easier at work, as well.  I won’t be so worried about getting canned or let go.  I won’t have to worry about being homeless or starving again like I have gone through before in my early 20s. 

That is something I never, ever wish to go through again.  Which, coincidentally did teach me that of course I can make it through anything..I made it out of that shit from sheer will and determination and would not throw in the towel and cry about it.  It sucked total ass but I worked hard to get out of it.  Some of you know the story but I’m just going to do a quick recap for those who don’t.

I was in college.  I had my GI Bill, Pell Grant and a little bit of money saved up to get me through it.  (Money I had saved from serving in the military.) I lived in an apartment with a roommate.  I did not have a car.  I did not have cable television.  We shared a house phone that was just a house phone and had none of the extras.  We ate cheaply.  My money went to rent, electricity, bus fare, food and school supplies.  I was full on college mode because I wanted to do well. 

My roommate and I got along.  Unfortunately, she had some issue with a boyfriend and was advised by her psychiatrist to move away from him, (he lived near us), and perhaps go back home with her parents because I guess the relationship wasn’t healthy.  Well, she did just that.  The problem is, she left me with two days’ notice...meaning, two days before rent and all the bills were due.  I could come up with my half but I sure as hell couldn’t come up with her half.  I just didn’t have the money to do it.  I had planned everything out according to having a roommate.  And two days’ notice is not enough time to find a solution.

I ended up homeless.

But I still went to school.

After school I would knock on every business door in downtown Seattle and ask for a job.  Every fucking one of them whether I was qualified or not.  Very few places would even let me fill out an application.  They just weren’t hiring. 

I also went to every damn apartment building I could to try to find a place to live that I could afford.

After a few hours of doing that every day, I would then try to get my homework done before getting a few hours of sleep and starting all over again the next day.  For three weeks I did this.  Finally, the pieces started to fall in to place.  Yes, of course, a couple of people helped me along the way but that was because they saw how damn hard I was working at it.  They knew I wasn’t just sitting in a corner whining about my situation, they knew I was busting my ass to resolve the situation.

A very, very kind apartment manager helped me out by giving me “half off” my first month’s rent because it was a “summer special”.  There was no fucking summer special.  He just paid the other half of the rent for me.  And he didn’t make me pay last or deposit.  He trusted me.

And that was all I fucking needed.  A break.  Someone to believe in me.

Let me tell you what kind of shits the adoptives were in this situation:  When I told them of the roommate leaving with only two days’ notice and asked for $500 to cover the rent and the electric, they refused.  According to them, the entire situation was my fault.  I chose that roommate, it was my fault.  I didn’t have money saved up, it was my fault.  Nevermind that the money I had saved up went right in to school, tuition, books, bus fare, registration, labs, etc, I was “irresponsible” and they considered me a fuck up.  I had just served three years in the military but I’m a fuck up.  Nice.  I told them I was about to be homeless.  They didn’t care. 

Some years later, the maternal unit told me that she had been feeling guilty about that all these years.  I told her to forget about it because I realized that I could make it through anything.  I made it through that, for crying out loud.  Oh how she thanked me.  What I wanted to tell her was that her guilt didn’t fucking do me any good and that I now knew I could not rely on them to have my back for anything.  If your own family won’t support you, who would, I thought, at the time.

But she was absolved of her guilt because I told her to forget about it, I realized how strong I am.  Goody gumdrops for her.  Whatever makes her happy.  But it’s not something I’ll ever forget.

Anyway, yes, I made it through that but you know what?  That fear of repeating it stays with you.  You are always afraid that someone, somewhere is going to fuck things up for you and you will end up there again.  It’s not a nice way to live.  It’s even worse knowing you can’t ever go home again.  Not that I would want to but to even know that you could has to help a little bit. 

So, as long as I’m here, I’m just going to save.  I’ve been overpaying on my car payments for some time but I think I’m going to slow down on that, not make quadruple payments every month like I have been and just save it.  I may still owe on my car but I’ll have a savings building up so that no matter what happens, I should be ok.  And it will take away some of that fear, when I have enough to live for a good year without work, (that’s the goal), and have an idea of where I’m going next and what I’m going to do.

But just getting the financial part in my favor is a big step.  And then?  Then I’ll start finding my way around this life again. 

I don’t know if I’ll ever have the money to open my own animal sanctuary.  It takes a LOT of money to get them up and running and keep them going.  And since they are non profit, you rely on the public and grants to help you along.  Many have tried, many have failed.  This is why I want to learn as much as I can about every little thing so that if I ever do get the opportunity, I can fix it my damn self and not have to rely on others to help me because, see, the lesson I’ve learned in this life is that while I can count on a few people here and there along the way, most people, as you all said, SUCK and you just can’t rely on them for anything.

But, that is my dream.  A big piece of land, far away from assholes, where I am saving animals, making a difference and helping.  I like animals more than I do people.  I really don’t care who says that’s the wrong thing to say, it’s true.  Animals don’t lie.  They are very honest.  All you need to know is how they operate.  You could say the same thing for humans but humans are far too complex, phony and deceitful for me to ever figure out, in the general sense.

If I had an animal sanctuary, I think I would be a little lonely but I would also be too busy making a difference and be too happy with the beings I work with every day.  And if I don’t like someone’s bullshit attitude?  Guess what?  BYE!

Now, I know some of you might say that I don’t need to know everything, I can hire people to know those things or recruit volunteers to know those things but at the same time that I realize what makes a good leader is one who listens to those who are in the trenches and takes all of their suggestions in to consideration, a good leader also has to have some idea about the topic at hand. 

As an example:  I don’t need to know how to build an airboat from scratch but it would be helpful if I knew the names of the parts, basically how they work, why there are there and simple fixes.  It’s no less than when you own a car.  You should know the basics so that you can do for yourself before taking it to a mechanic to get ripped off.  You don’t have to know, completely, how to fix it but you should know the basics and have a general idea of what is going on when they say, “Your control arms and tie rods are broken.” The last thing you want to do is tilt your head to the side and say, “HUH?”

I want to know what the control arms and tie rods are, how they function and what they mean to the car.  I can have someone else fix them, but I want to know why the hell they are fixing them and know that they actually need to be fixed.

Do you get what I’m saying?

Now, it’s going to be stressful for awhile because it’s not like I’m going to be able to pick up and leave tomorrow.  This may take awhile.  And it’s going to suck every damn day.  And I may not be going straight to an animal sanctuary of my own right after that.  The first step is to get what I can while I’m here and then plan the next step.  Then the next one and the next one and the next one.

And yes, I’m going to be resentful for some time.  I am not stupid, I know life isn’t easy and I know there are no guarantees, but I do know, that a little boost so many years ago would have made this far, far less exhausting, physically and mentally and I wouldn’t have to live in perpetual fear of amounting to nothing. 

It’s sad, really because there is so much I want to do.  But I know I’m in this, basically, on my own so I’m going to have to pick one that I can still do regardless of the fact that I’m older now.  Age does indeed close many doors and eventually, I’ll accept that and move on.

Right now though, I just want to be pissed.

I’ll get over it...just let me be pissed for awhile.

Either I’m going through a mid-life crisis or, in all sincerity, my job is reminding me of everything I have hated and worked against in my life.  Or maybe it’s both.  What I do know is that it’s really starting to eat at me...I guess it could be depression, I am really not sure.

For example, just before I woke up, I was dreaming about myself being much younger.  And as silly as this sounds, I was wearing a pair of dark, burgundy jeans that I used to own.  I loved these pants.  (Stick with me here, kids.) In the dream I was wearing those pants, rolled up at the hem because as with most pants, they were too long.  I had on a black sweater and a black leather jacket, just like I always used to wear.  I don’t recall what the hell I was doing in the dream but I remember as I was waking up, I thought, “What the hell happened to those pants?  Where did they go?  When did I get rid of them?  I don’t remember shit.”

Symbolism, kids, in case you didn’t catch on.  I’m sure you did, you are all pretty damn intelligent but I’m saying it anyway because I’m just kind of understanding some of this as I’m writing this.

Anyway, I woke up feeling...bleh.  Like something was missing.  And then it all kind of hit me.  What the hell happened?  This is not the course I set out for myself.  And this is not the person I thought I would become.

You know, I sit here, often, and think that all I want to do is save up as much money as possible so that I can go buy some land somewhere, far away from people and just be left the fuck alone.  And you know what?  As much as I want that, as much as imagining it makes me happy, it also makes me incredibly sad.  That is not the person I once was.  What I used to be was the type of person who could not wait to get out there, meet as many people as possible, see as many things as I could, go as far as I could, explore the ends of the earth.  I was full of adventure, would try many things, especially with higher risks, and basically embraced the world. 

Now?  Now all I want to do is hide from the world because the world actually pisses me off.  A lot.  Whereas I use to think, “Man, I can’t wait to go here, here and here and meet all those people”, all I can think now is, “You couldn’t pay me enough to visit your country because you are all fucking idiots!” I guess the travelers from those countries haven’t been the greatest ambassadors.

Nonetheless, there’s a feeling of something dying.  Like...maybe my hope?  Maybe my sense of adventure?  Maybe the zest for life I once had?  I’m not sure what it is but again, each time I think how great it would be to get the fuck away from people and not have to deal with them on a daily basis, it makes me feel tremendous loss and I’m not sure really how I would react after about a month of living that way.  Is that really what I want?

Basically, I don’t even know who the fuck I am anymore and what I want.  I’ve always known who I was and what I wanted.  I have no idea how to handle not knowing.

There is also the possibility that what is causing this is where I work.  My co-workers are either dumber than a box of wet Depends or they are abusive.  Verbally abusive, that is.  I really have low tolerance for abusive people and I really do not wish to spend my time around abusive people.  I’ve done enough, more than my share, in this lifetime.  The sperm donor was physically abusive to the point that he was thrown in jail and I was adopted out.  Lots of scars there, kids.  Physical and emotional.  Lots of work getting past that.  A LOT of work getting past that.  (And no, it doesn’t just magically disappear when you become an adult, you still have to work through that shit.)

And frankly, the adoptive units weren’t much better.

My abusive co-workers remind me of both of them; both sets that is.  They care only about themselves, they do not want to see you succeed, they do not care what their actions do to you, if they feel shitty, they want to ensure that you feel shitty, they manipulate, back stab, gossip and do everything in their power to get people fired.  Even their own friends!  They bring in “friends” and then turn around and start talking shit about them to get them fired.  WTF?!?!!?!

The boss....everyone here is a “fucking idiot”.  If you do anything, make a mistake, you are a “fucking idiot”.  And that is everyone here.  Not one person here is immune to it no matter how far their tongue is up the boss’ ass.  I’ve heard, several times in the almost three years I’ve been here, him calling people “fucking idiots” when they call in on the radio with a problem. 

There you are, driving the boat, something mechanical happens while you’re out.  You call in on the radio for assistance.  Immediately the boss wants to know what that “fucking idiot” has done this time.  Or sometimes we get stuck.  We turn wrong, or the boat just plain ass doesn’t fucking turn, the wind pushes us up in to the grass, something.  We are now stuck and need assistance.  Jesus, you should hear this guy when that happens.

“Doesn’t that fucking idiot know how to drive an airboat?”

This past week has been very windy.  VERY windy.  Docking is a bitch in the wind.  Every. single. person. has needed help at the dock.  Every last one of them.  Even the ones who claim that they have driven airboats their entire lives, have needed help.  And every last one of them has completely and totally fucked up their docking in the wind.  But the boss only gets upset with some of the people.

I had a boat last week and was coming in and has just about docked it perfectly despite the wind when a gust came up and fucked that all up for me.  The boss was on the dock loading boats as they came in because there was a long line of people waiting.  The right, front corner of my boat got caught up on the dock.  If I had just a few more inches, maybe only 5 inches, I would have cleared it but again, the wind gusted right at the most inopportune time and I didn’t complete the turn.

But do I get understanding? 

HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

No, what I get is a deep scowl and disgust from the boss.  See, I’m just a fucking idiot who cannot drive an airboat.

All of this reminds me of life growing up.  There was no room for error.  You had to be perfect.  You may think I’m being facetious but I’m really not.  You HAD to be perfect.  And to ensure perfection, there was a gottdamned rule for every little thing you did.  From the time I woke up in the morning to the time I went to bed at night, there was a rule.  Every action had a rule.  And it was stringent, there was no room for artistic license, you would do it this way, every single day, day in, day out or you would pay for it.

And I mean every. little. thing you can think of.

Because you had to be perfect, the house had to be perfect, you had to look perfect and the only way to achieve that perfection is to follow a set of rules stricter than the Chinese government.  At times, friends would come over and feel extremely uncomfortable in my house because of these rules.  They also realized that the place didn’t look lived in at all.  It was too clean, too shiny and there was nothing welcoming about it.  Every room looked like a show room.  And you damn well better keep it that way, right down to the glare of the freshly waxed floors.

If you made a mistake?  It was enormous.  There were no small mistakes.  Every thing was blown out of proportion.  You obviously were not trying very hard, you were being lazy and you were acting stupid.  For that you must pay.

And I think about that every time my boss calls us “fucking idiots” for simple mistakes.  There is no room for error at work.  We must be perfect.

So, you throw all of this together and I’m completely lost.  I do not appreciate being treated this way, I don’t tolerate the abuse and I did not work this fucking hard just to come right back to this sort of environment.  But how the fuck do I get out of this?  Can I actually hold on long enough to save up that money to get the fuck out?  How much more of this shit can I take?  And just how many more times will people try to sabotage my efforts TO get out of here?  (Yes, sabotage...you really have no idea.)

I don’t like feeling like I’m fighting for my very own existence every single day.  I’ve already been homeless once, I’ve already literally starved before, I do not want to go through that again.  I cannot just tell them to fuck off and leave out of here.  To do that would be to fuck myself over.

There is no encouragement here.  There was no encouragement growing up.  I always remember this during Olympic season.  I enjoy watching the games but sometimes I think I shouldn’t watch them because of what they stir up.

I often wonder, while watching, just how far I could have gotten in this life with a little support.  I didn’t ask for much.  I asked for very little.  And even those requests were not fitting with the regime so the answer was always, “no”.  There was so much I wanted to do, learn and take part of when I was younger.  These things were fun for me but the skills I would have gained, the lessons I would have learned, the confidence I would have gained, the leadership skills I would have been taught, the life lessons that I would have developed....all were denied because, you see, there is no future in those things. 

I wanted to act, sing, play piano, take more computer courses, (yes, even that long ago, they were there for kids), ski, do gymnastics, be on the swim team, track, tap...the list was endless.  And while I understand those things take money, that wasn’t the issue.  The issue was, “You are not allowed to have fun, therefore, no.” I got to do some of those things on a small scale but I thirsted for more and was always told, “no”.

What the fuck kind of parent tells their kid, “NO” when they are aching to learn things?  I was a very, very bored child.  I lost myself in books.  That was encouraged, thankfully, and that’s pretty much how I spent my years as a kid.  When I was home, I’d read a book.  What else was there for me to do?  I wasn’t allowed to fucking go anywhere or learn anything or gain a new skill.  I wasn’t allowed to explore and discover new talents.

No, maybe I wouldn’t have ever been a professional skiier, or gymnast or ice skater.  Maybe I would have never been a professional singer, only maybe being a back up.  But why the fuck would you deny someone the opportunity?

Because a) “things like that never happen to people like us” in other words, don’t even bother trying or b) you are too stupid. 

And here we have come, full circle.  I have been begging to learn the ins and outs of the mechanics of the airboat.  Just as I was taught in the military how to fix my own car, I should know how to fix a small, minor problem on a boat.  But we can’t have that because “you would all fuck it up”.  Only certain people are allowed to learn certain things at work and most of us are not allowed to learn shit.

I want to learn how to change the oil.

No.

I want to learn what this part is, that part is, how to fix these things when they go wrong; ie, how to change a starter.

No.

I want to learn how to find the fuse that gets blown at times on rides.

No.

I want to learn how to fix it should the rudder stick break on tour.  (And this HAS happened to people.)

No.

I want to learn how to fix this, that and the other.

No.

And it brings me right back to how I felt as a kid and always being told, “No.”

Who in their right fucking mind keeps someone from learning something?  Especially when that education would only benefit them AND the company or the family?  Who the fuck does that?

I am not a fucking idiot.  I am smart.  I pick things up quickly when I am allowed to learn them.  Sometimes how fast I pick things up pisses people off and makes them feel all threatened but that’s not my problem.  But I continually get held down.

No.  Fucking idiot.  You don’t need to learn these things.  You have nothing to gain by learning these things. 

Stupid girl.

So, you put all of this together and I feel like I’ve done nothing with my life.  I feel like I’ve advanced nowhere.  I feel like I’ve wasted all of these years because I’m right back in the same damn environment I fought so damn hard to get out of.  And it doesn’t matter what the hell I do, doesn’t matter how many times I prove myself, doesn’t matter how many times I prove them wrong, that I am stronger than they think, smarter than they think and more capable than they think and that not every little gottdamned last thing has to be run ONE. CERTAIN. WAY. ONLY!!!!!!!, I am not allowed to grow.

I’m stifled.

And I don’t know how to get out of this right now.....but even bigger, I don’t even know where the fuck I want to go next.  I really am not sure who the fuck I am anymore, as I said, and I am sick and fucking tired of people trying to hold me down, to keep me from being what I can be.

I’m sick and tired of the lack of support.

I’m sick and tired of people and their snotty attitudes.

And all of this really bothers me because this is not who I once was but it’s not because I’ve grown.  It’s because I’ve been held back for so long by so many that I have noticed my drive, my hope, my desires are pretty much flaming out.

And that really, really bothers me.  So much so, that it’s affecting my health.  My eating habits have changed drastically, for the worse, I can’t fucking sleep anymore.  I’m tossing and turning all night long, waking up at all hours, can’t get to sleep at night no matter how fucking tired I am, wake up too early, can’t get back to sleep, I’m exhausted all the time...I don’t even have the energy to do simple tasks.  Even going to the store is something big.  I’m fucking mentally exhausted and now I have to go out there and deal with more assholes?  How about I just don’t have any food at all.  Except I have to take care of the cats.

I have no desire to even go do anything.  Part of that is because I’m trying to save up my money but part of it is also, I just don’t have the energy to deal with people.  As much as I want to be the tourist for a change, I don’t want to deal with tourists.

And frankly, I’ve pretty much alienated my friends not because of anything they have done or I have done...I just don’t have it in me anymore.  I’m that fucking tired.  And I really can’t take one more excuse or one more let down.  And that is much too demanding on them.  It’s not their fault but they are the ones who bear the brunt of it.  It’s not fair to them so I don’t even bother.

How fucked up is that?

Fuck, man, I don’t even know what the hell I want to do anymore.  I don’t even know who I am anymore.

I’m totally and completely lost.

[Edit] If you read this far, thanks for listening.  I don’t expect anyone would have any answers.  I don’t really expect much...I just needed to get that out.

I don’t always want to be the funny one.  I don’t always want to point out the insanity of the general public.  I don’t always want to speak to the peanut gallery.  I don’t always want to talk politics.  I don’t always want to have to point out why someone is an idiot or why their actions are stupid.  I don’t always want to be a voice of reason. 

I do not always say “everything there is to say”.  I hear this a lot.  “You’ve said everything and better than I could.” No, I seriously doubt that.  I think some of you sell yourselves short.

Regardless, sometimes I want to talk about personal shit and I don’t feel like I can do that here.  That is not a good feeling.  I’m always going to alienate someone or some people because they only want a certain type of blog entry.  I’m always going to have those who don’t understand anything and think that when you write about something that bothers you, not venting, writing, not ranting, WRITING, about something that is serious to you that is personal, they view it as whining or that you feel entitled to something or that you have it so good, what the hell are you crying about, why don’t you think about those in this world who don’t even have beds to sleep on! 

I understand that you only get to see glimpses of my personality.  You don’t get to see the whole thing but I also wish people would stop making generalizations about myself or other bloggers based solely on what they see in the blog.  These are not all encompassing pieces.  There is much more to us than what you see.  And I would love nothing more than to feel free, really, truly free, to write some of those things down.  To try to make sense of them.  To try to figure out the path to take because of those things.

But I do not feel that freedom here no matter how many times someone says, “Write what you want to write about , we’ll still read!” because it’s not true.  In the 7 years I’ve been doing this, I’ve heard that several times as well and you know what?  “We’ll always read no matter what you write” is a fucking lie.  I have a different crowd depending on what I’m writing about at the time.

If I write politics, I get a different crowd.

If I write animals, I get a different crowd.

If I write about stupid, every day people and situations, I get a different crowd.

If I write something a little personal, I get a different crowd.

It is RARE that one person will stick around for all of those subjects.  And I hate to lose readers or gain new ones who expect a certain theme.  If I didn’t care about readers, I would be writing in a personal diary that no one would see.  Anybody who puts their words out there on the internets obviously cares about other people reading it.  Those who say they don’t are liars.

But every time I think of writing something serious, all I can question is:  Who am I going to offend today?  Who is going to come here and say some nasty little thing without knowing the full story?  Who is going to come on here and be a dick when I’m exposing some deep feelings?  You may not know this, kids, but I’m actually very sensitive.  I know I don’t come across that way on this blog because I’m passionate about morons, passionate in my disgust over them, that is, but some things, you can cut me pretty easily and deeply.  I’ve had a fair share of pricks in this lifetime who have done just that, some times they were other bloggers, and I really don’t feel...safe, with those kinds of people out there. 

I’m pretty private in real life.  I don’t really like to share much with many in my real life.  I would usually share with one or two people and that would be it.  But sometimes, I just want to write about some of that personal shit because for the most part, I don’t know any of you.  You are strangers to me.  Sure, you come here and comment and we have a blog/reader/writer friendship that way but you wouldn’t know me if you saw me on the street and vice versa.  That makes me feel safe.  It’s much easier to talk to strangers. 

At the same time, that anonymity gives some people license to act like assholes.  Hiding behind a computer screen can make you open up, as I wish to do but it can also bring out the spitfire dick in some people.

And because this is off the cuff, it’s probably coming out wrong and someone, somewhere, is going to get all offended and say, “Well fuck you, too, Serenity.  I don’t need to read your shit anymore.” And there’s not a fucking thing I can do about that. 

At the same time some readers make me feel stifled, it’s those readers who make me come back here and keep this thing up.  I just have to figure out which to care more about right now.  I don’t like feeling censored.  Yah, a strong word but at times it feels that way.  ‘Only talk about this and this and that, nothing else or I’m not coming back!’

“You shouldn’t care about those types of people, Serenity.” Except that’s a large percentage of my readers, as I illustrated earlier.

I am more than just one who vents about stupidity but I don’t feel free to write about it. 

That really sucks.

You are driving a boat, (without brakes or reverse), down a channel in a southern direction.  The wind is blowing hard in a northern direction.  The dock is to your left.  You must turn the boat a complete 180 to parallel park the boat so that the dock will end up on your right when you are finished and ready to offload.  You have minimal room to do this as the channel is not that wide and there are other boats parallel parked to the dock very close to the front and back end of your boat.  Because of this, it is a given that you will need assistance at the dock to park.

With me so far?

You are driving south at about 5mph.  The wind is blowing north at about 25mph.  (At you.) You need to turn your boat 180 degrees so that the dock that is now on your left, will end up on your right.  A person is standing on the dock to assist you with your parallel parking because of the strong winds.  Here is a stick figure illustration of what I mean:

I’d also like to add that you are sitting on the back of the boat, steering, and the steps for you to get off of the boat are also at the back, right below your seat.  You have a rope at the front of the boat and a rope at the back of the boat.  You will eventually tie both ends up to posts on the dock to keep the boat secure to the dock.  (Use props if you have to, kids.)

Ok, you begin your turn.  Keeping in mind that the wind is blowing north and you are changing position from south to north and you want the back end of your boat to hit the dock first so that you can get down and tie your boat, tell me, when the front end of the boat approaches the dock, should the person standing on the dock:

a) grab that front rope and pull the front end of the boat towards the dock

or

b) kick the front end of the boat off the dock

I’m not giving the answer away, kids.  I really want to see if I’m just being too hard on people and that this isn’t common sense.  Or basic science...or basic math.  You don’t have to ever have driven a boat to be able to answer this, is my opinion.  If you take a moment and factor in all the information I gave you, you should arrive at the correct answer.  Like I said, use props if you have to.  Hell, take a pencil and put it in some bathwater and blow on it, if you have to.

I look forward to the answers.  And no cheating! 

Normally.

And when I say, “slammed”, I mean, we don’t get a break.  They toss water bottles at us, sometimes something to eat and we continue, tour after tour after tour after tour until we want to scream.

Last year, around this time, when everyone was hurraying St. Hope and Change’s win, I warned them.  I told them, “Better start saving your money now because you won’t see much next year.” And, as with everything, these pot head alcoholic burn outs think they know more than I do.  They did not listen.  They brushed me off as if I was saying something really stupid.  I mean, they were making money, hand over fist, at the time, no need to pay attention to that.  The money isn’t going to run out, look at all this money!  Pscht.  What do you know, Serenity?

Except...hmm.

Where are all the people?  Where’s all the money?  This is our busy season, is it not?  Why are we sitting around like it’s the summer time?  Why are you all complaining about how little money you’re making?  I thought you all knew better than I did and we would having nothing to worry about.  Didn’t you all “pscht” me last year when I predicted this?  Do any of you assholes remember anything I said?  I’ll remind you:

I said:  “You better hold on to what money you are getting now to see you through the next year because we will not be getting a season like this next year with St. Hope and Change now in office and the Dems running the place.  I’m serious.  Wait until all of those people in the north start getting their heating bills next winter.  They will not be coming down here because they won’t be able to afford it.  Wait a few months after St. Hope and Change gets his way with this ridiculous trillion dollar spending and people end up without a job at all.  Give it a few months, it’ll start.  And they won’t be able to afford to come down here.  The fucking morons of this country have assured that you and I will NOT have a busy season next year.  Watch.”

That’s pretty much verbatim what I said.

And they all ignored me because a) that’s too confusing and too much to think about and/or b) what the hell do I know?  I’m just a girl, I don’t know anything.

So, here we are.  This year, during our “busy season”, not making half the money we should be making, not taking half the boats we should be taking.  And people are starting to get restless.  And complain.  Loudly.  Pissed off they are.

And because it’s necessary, I say, “I told you.” Because while most of the time that is annoying as shit and fucking pisses me off when people say it, this time, these assholes deserve it.  “I told you all this last year.  I told you all that we wouldn’t be making any money this year because everyone voted for that fucking idiot in to office and you all fucking tools believe the Dems have your best interests at heart.  You fucking twits.  THAT is why you’re not making any money, idiots!  The people cannot afford to come here and spend money on a vacation.  I tried to tell you this last year and you all acted like I was stupid.  The people aren’t here.  They don’t have jobs.  They have high heating costs.  They have no fucking money.  YOU all allowed this to happen.  YOU all did this to your fucking selves.  NOW you get to see the results of your own actions or inactions.  If you voted for St. Hope and Change, it’s your own fucking fault you aren’t making shit this year.  If you didn’t vote at all, it’s your own fucking fault that you aren’t making shit this year. 

You fucking tools don’t take politics seriously.  You roll your eyes at me, you tune me out, you don’t know jack fucking shit about your own country, how it runs, WHO is running it, what their agenda IS and you take something that is precious and spit on it.  There are millions of people in this world who would LOVE the opportunity to vote.  You have that and you don’t do it.  Your inaction IS a vote.  You have voted not to take control of your own life, you have voted to let someone else run it for you.  Well guess what?  This is how they choose to run it.  And now you don’t have any fucking money.

That is no one’s fault but your own.  Maybe next time there’s an election, you could actually try to care.  Even if you don’t care about anyone else in the world but yourself, do it for yourself.  If you make that effort and learn and research and pay attention and vote and your guy doesn’t win?  THAT IS WHEN YOU GET TO BITCH!  But now?  Today?  No.  You have no money because you fucked yourself over.  And thanks for fucking me over as well.  Assholes.”

I’m a big hit at work.

None of this sinks in.  They might think about it for 5 minutes but then they go off, smoke another joint, drink another beer and scream, “PISS!” at the top of their lungs while bitching about who did what around these parts today.

I spent a little money this year...got a new laptop, gun, Kindle.  Moved to a new abode.  But for the most part, I’ve been saving what I can.  Some of my co-workers like to talk about how I “never go anywhere or do anything” but I don’t care what they think or say.  They don’t have any money because they spent it all on beer, drugs and partying.  I have money saved up because I saw this coming and laid pretty low.

But hey, as long as we all understand that I’M the idiot here.

See, today, we had a very, very rich person come, by helicopter, with his “handlers” as well, to take a private tour.  As in, so rich, he is one of the top 10 richest people in this country, rich.  That’s not any sort of exaggeration or play on words, he actually IS one of the top 10 richest people in this country.  Yes, that rich.

So GrumpyFuck took him and some lady on a private tour.  When they got back, Mr. Rich did not tip GrumpyFuck.  GrumpyFuck threw a fit.  A big, fat, whiny fit.  He stomped around, muttered shit under his breath, looked, again, like a fool.

What GrumpyFuck doesn’t understand is that people THAT FUCKING RICH typically don’t handle money.  That’s what the “handlers” are for.  People that damn rich just spend their money by doing things like taking jet engine helicopter rides over the Everglades and then landing on the “heli-pad” at an airboat place and taking an expensive private tour.  They then do other things while there and eventually get back on to the jet engine helicopter and fly off, letting the “handlers” do what they do best.  Handle things.

Boss ripped GrumpyFuck a new one today for that little stunt.  He explained to him what I just said and told him, AGAIN, that he cannot be throwing tantrums in front of the customers.  Especially BILLIONAIRE customers.

Because he threw such a hissy fit, he only got $40. 

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHHA!  Way to fuck yourself over, dipshit!  That easily should have been a hundred or two hundred dollar boat. 

Anyway, I didn’t get to see the screaming...which is probably good because I would have been standing there, beaming and, perhaps laughing.  Ok, I would definitely have been laughing.  And I probably would have gotten myself in trouble for doing that.  But, I did hear about it.  And apparently the infamous vein in the boss’ forehead was in full throb so you KNOW GrumpyFuck really, really fucked up today.

Would you like to know how badly he fucked up?

He actually spoke to me after that.

Oh yeah.  You know now, for sure, what very little power you have, GrumpyFuck.  Karma is a glorious bitch and it’s coming back to bite you in the ASS! 

(Like I said, I could tell you all kinds of things but I’m not sure how much you really want to hear.  But I did have to share this one because everyone loves it when an asshole gets his.)

Today was a very good day.