14
June

If You Want to Scam Me, Get My Name Right

This morning there were at least 3 calls that seemed fishy, in nature.  The first was from “Cardholder Services”.  It didn’t seem legit, so it was quickly dismissed.  The second was from someone from “Mega Millions Sweepstakes”.  The third was another “Cardholder Services” call, but this time instead of having a Sacramento area code, it was from New York City–and it came up as a Wireless number.

The first and third were recordings.  These recordings call a few times a day.  If you want to talk to a real person, you can.  Of course, if you talk to a real person, they begin to ask a lot of personal questions.  That is where it should become obvious that these are NOT legit calls.

The second phone call that was made was not just a recording for anyone in the house.  It was specifically for me.  It was a guy with what sounded like a Jamaican accent, even though the number was from Washington.  I’m sure there may be Jamaicans that live in Washington, and I’m sure that most of these people are upstanding citizens.  This one, though, didn’t come across as an upstanding Washingtonian or an upstanding Jamaican guy.  This was a guy that kept calling me, “Juh-net-ee”.  I corrected him.  He still was calling me, “Juh-net”. I was going to let it slide, since I’ve known a lot of people who have called me “Juh-net”.  One of my Social Work professors always called me “Jah-net More-ees”.  So, I’m used to odd pronunciations of my name.  The only ones that really piss me off are when people call me “Janice”.  I have no c in any part of my name, but I digress.

This caller then began to ask me lots of personal questions.  At this time, I told him that I really didn’t think he was calling the right person.  He reverted back to calling me “Juh-net-ee”.  As he continued to try to get me to answer the personal questions, I managed to wake up enough to hang up on him.  (I had taken 4 Flexerils, 1 Zanaflex, and 2 Tramadol about an hour and half before the calls started, which made me extremely drowsy.)  I figure that he’ll probably call back again sometime later this week.  Knowing my luck, this will be a daily thing for a while.  I bet the next time, the area code will be some other place.

For the record, I suspect that the guy was Jamaican, not only because of the accent, but because yesterday a similar call came for me.  That time, the phone call was from the 876 area code.  (876 is an area code for Jamaica.)

I really hate spammy-scammy calls.  I’m not a big fan of talking on the phone, but when I do, I at least want to know that it’s not some ass that’s trying to commit some kind of criminal behavior.

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25
April

10 Day Challenge: Day 1

Okay, it may seem completely ridiculous, but while I finish up the 30 Days of Truth thing, I’m also going to do this 10 Day Challenge that I saw posted on libere’s tumblr. All 10 prompts are posted at the bottom. The topic for the first day is:

Day 1: Ten Things You Wanted/Want to Be When You’re Older

  1. Teacher
  2. Hairstylist
  3. Fashion Designer
  4. Music Producer/Manager
  5. Psychologist/Therapist
  6. Politician
  7. Doctor
  8. Actress/Singer/Artist
  9. Dancer/Dance Teacher
  10. Writer

The first thing I ever remember wanting to be was a teacher.  It kind of made sense.  My dad’s sister and her (late) husband were teachers down in South Alabama.  (Their daughter, my only female first cousin, has since become a teacher.)  My great-grandmother (mom’s dad’s mom) was also a teacher.  Education was something that was always stressed in my family.  So, for years, I planned to be a teacher.  In fifth grade, I would even sit down and make out potential lesson plans.  Nutty, I know, but I just really wanted to teach.  Of course, that changed at some point in middle school.  I think that as I became more and more anxious, depressed, etc., I became more wary of possibly being a teacher.  It may have also come from some strain that I felt with some (bad) teachers and the school system’s punishment of anyone that they thought was a truant.

I also remember wanting to be a hairstylist from early on.  It always seemed like a wonderful way to show off my more creative side.  I decided against it when I realized that if I messed up someone’s hair, they would have to live with it for a long, long time.

I used to sit at my Nana’s house and sketch clothes in this little notebook that I had down there.  I’ve always had ideas for clothes floating in my head, but I’ve never formally studied fashion design or even sewing.  My designs would probably be rubbish, but I always thought it would be cool to make clothes.  I thought that if I became a designer, then there could be fashionable stuff for people who are above average size or below wealthy financial status.

I don’t remember where the urge to become a music producer or manager started.  I had planned on going to Middle Tennessee State University which has (or had–don’t know if they still have a good one) a good program for music industry related degrees.  I’ve always loved music, and I figured that since I didn’t have the right look for the artist side that I could use my ear to find talent.  I think that my anxiety/depression kept me from pursuing this.

As some (long-time) readers might know, I studied Social Work in college.  I almost graduated with a BSW and was planning on getting a Master’s degree in Social Work (MSW).  I thought that my experience with mental health issues (my own and as a friend/family member of folks with them) might help me with the career path.  Of course, my experience ended up being the reason that I couldn’t graduate.  (As I’ve mentioned a few times before, teachers in the program decided that because I was diagnosed at the time with Bipolar Disorder that I couldn’t graduate.  The decision came when I had 2 classes left in the program and after they’d had 3 [almost 4] years of knowledge of my nuttiness.)

In school, I was always running for offices.  I blame some of my family history for the desire to hold power.  I have ancestors who range from royals to local politicians.  I don’t think I could get elected, though, because of my political leanings and the fact that I am open about my mental and medical health statuses.

I was really tempted to study medicine, but my mom told me that I would probably have some issues because of how worn out I get when I miss some sleep.  (I can also get hyper from missing sleep, though.)  So, I never really got to study medicine.

I thought about being a singer and actress for a while.  Though I know that I can actually sing, I’ve been told that my acting skills are a bit on the lackluster side.  (They had been good in high school, but sometime after that, they dwindled.)  I also realized (early on) that I don’t look like someone who would be successful in “the biz”, and (unfortunately) looks are generally more important than talent in show business.

I studied dance from an early age through sixth grade.  I loved it, especially ballet, and I really wanted to teach little kids to dance.  I always felt that dance had the ability to teach children discipline as well as grace and creativity.  After I started spraining joints regularly and was eventually told that I could never dance again, I realized that it would be pretty impossible to teach dance.

I still plan on someday penning novels.  I have a notebook full of ideas, and I really want to write them one day.  I’m always having trouble writing and thinking that its anymore than mindless junk. I’ve always told stories, though.  I used to scribble on paper and read the “stories” to my family, even though nothing was actually written.  I also would write stories on our old Tandy computer when I was in preschool and elementary school.  Some of the stories were printed out and donated to my first elementary school.  They bound them and put them on display in the school’s library for a while when I was there.

The Prompts

Day 1: Ten Things You Wanted/Want To Be When You’re Older

Day 2: Nine Things You Can’t Live Without

Day 3: Eight Places You Want To Visit

Day 4: Seven People Who Inspire You, and Why?

Day 5: Six of Your Favorite Books

Day 6: Five Things You Can Eat Everyday

Day 7: Four Songs That Describe Your Life Right Now

Day 8: Three favorite Cartoon Characters

Day 9: Two Movies You Absolutely Love

Day 10: One Quote That Describes Your Life Right Now

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21
April

30 Days of Truth: Day 9

Wow.  A second day in a row.  I might actually get through a week before disappearing on this meme again.  ;)

So today would be Day 9:

Day 9: Someone you didn’t want to let go, but just drifted.

I’m sure there have been plenty of people that this could apply to, but there are a couple who I can think of right off.  I guess I should go with those, since my brain is having its own “Freudian slip” by me thinking about them.

I didn’t want to let go of Marakie.  She was probably my closest friend while I was at A&M, but I haven’t talked to her in over a year now.  She’s from Ethiopia and, after she graduated from A&M (and then Tulane), she went back there.  We stayed in contact while she was there, but after she moved back to the States, she seemed to disappear off my radar.  I guess that maybe real life got to be too much or something.  I don’t know.  I miss her, but I guess that (for now) our friendship is on hiatus.

I’m not as close with other people from my past, as I had been.  I think for a long time the first person who would have popped into my mind is Stephanie.  Oddly, since we reconnected on Facebook, I don’t feel that drifting feeling anymore.  I guess just knowing that she is still there, and that she still exists, gives me some level of hope that I had lost for so long.

The only other person that I can truly think of right off would be John Allen.  He was my lab partner in Chem I during my sophomore year of high school.  I had a crush on him that lasted quite a while.  I would write him notes every day that year.  If I didn’t, he would make some comment about how I hadn’t written him and he would act depressed.  (He told me at one point that he had the notes stored somewhere at home.)  He was also the only guy that I would willingly let copy my homework in the three classes we shared.  (Everyone else ended up copying off of his copy of my homework.)  I finally told him after the end of his Junior year (right after I took the GED & before I started to college) that I’d had a crush on him.  We lost touch after that until we reconnected on Facebook.  He deactivated his account around the time that our mutual friend was (accidentally) killed, and I haven’t heard from him since.  I miss having the ability to just send him a message, and I miss sometimes getting a message from him.  (He was the only person to tell me happy birthday on my 16th birthday and he was the first one to say it to me on Facebook.)  I miss him teasing me about my lack of driving skills.  I even miss him copying my homework.  So, I definitely think he belongs in this post.

And now I feel completely embarrassed at how reliant I’ve become on Facebook for my interpersonal relationships.

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14
February

Ain’t It Funny

Today, the wonderful school that I attended with the Social Work program that kicked me out for being nutty is having to respond to its accreditation board over the concerns about the relationship the school has with the AAMURI. The school might lose its accreditation, which I think might be kind of funny. It doesn’t surprise me that there might be some fishy stuff going on there. With the always changing board of trustees (whenever any of them show up, they resign or vote other people off the board) and the tendency to get new Presidents almost every other year, the school doesn’t really give off a very stable vibe.

Oh, today, I have to go see the nurse at the Mental Health Center. I scheduled an appointment with one of the nicer ones, though they claim that all of the nurses there are nice. (That’s simply untrue.) I just hope that I don’t get a last minute change to the one that I had the argument last time. I wish that I could see the psychiatrist instead, because nurse appointments tend to be a bit odd. The nurse basically “takes the order” for the prescriptions you need and then has to wait until a doctor is free, which is typically hours after the patient has gotten home, to get them approved, signed, and called in. Sometimes, they forget to call them in or lose them altogether.

I also have to call the family doctor because I’ve had some stomach issues lately. It started with a bruise-type feeling right next to my navel (with no bruise visible), and has turned into a 4-times-a-day removal of pus (and sometimes blood) from my belly button. So, I apparently need to get that checked out.

I hope that, whether you enjoy the symbolism/meaning of it, everyone has a lovely Valentine’s Day. And remember that even if you hate the day, there will be cheaper candy, cupcakes, cookies, and stuffed animals tomorrow. (There’s always a bright side, huh?)

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9
December

Start a Revolution

Today, I have to go see my gynecological for the follow-up of the D&C/hysteroscopy. I will also get to go over whether or not I want to continue having periods, aka do I want (at the age of 26) to have a hysterectomy? The gynecologist kind of suggested to my parents that I really needed to think about that, and I have been trying my hardest not to. I don’t want to have it at the same age as my great-grandmother. I don’t really want to even have it as early as my mom (age 41), but I would rather that than earlier.

So, I’ve seen that there are demonstrations in Britain over tuition fees. (I know that there are ties into the health/education system that some are demonstrating about.) I read that the maximum would be £9,000, or about $14,000. Now, if I were to go back to UAH at full-time status, the tuition cost for me (as a resident) would be about $4,000 per semester or around $8,000 per year. Instead of being in the 3 year system that would accrue £27,000, or around $42.5k, a new student here would face 4 to 5 years which would be up to around $40,000. Of course, if someone from out-of-state tried to go to UAH, they would face $10,000 per semester or $20,000 a year, and almost $100,000 in tuition over their undergraduate program. The UAH costs are prior to the addition of fees/expenses that are subject to change without the student knowing. At Alabama A&M, a resident would pay $6,140-$7,040 per semester if they were staying in a dorm or $3,509 if they were staying outside of one. A non-resident (out-of-state) could anticipate paying up to $10,000 per semester to study.

I just find it weird to think that people are that upset about their fees when they’re actually quite similar to what people here pay for a public higher education. I understand that fees are higher than what you’re used to, but just think, there are kids over here who have very little and they still have to pay these rates, though some of our schools are definitely not anywhere near as high quality as the ones in the British system.

Now, as for some of the proposed cuts that folks might be facing, that I can understand. Maybe it has to do with a difference in the places we’re from?

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7
December

Protected: The Antitrust Case

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23
November

Work All Day, Sleep All Night

The day after the D&C, I was back to cooking dinner again. Mom is still struggling to get around, and his royal highness couldn’t be bothered to quit playing Farmville long enough to cook dinner. Admittedly, a D&C isn’t really major surgery. (Though, when I had what was considered major surgery, I went through the same stuff.) This time he was a little bit perkier since he didn’t have to wake up in the middle of the night to take me for surgery.

I had the sore throat I complained of for a couple of days. My temperature was borderline-high over that weekend, but I figured I just had a cold. I was sleeping as much as I possibly could, because I was completely wiped out and because I just felt really bad.

Then, on Monday, I had to see my new (old) psychiatrist. She was the one that I had seen in 2007 at the infamous appointment. She was really nice, and was asking me some basic questions. She needed to know why I’d left the last psychiatrist. (I said I didn’t feel comfortable with her. I didn’t mention that I didn’t appreciate the old psychiatrist insulting me.) She had a nurse practitioner in on the appointment. She didn’t ask if it was okay, and I guess I could’ve asked the nurse practitioner to please leave. I didn’t, though. The psychiatrist asked what medicines I was on. I told her just the Effexor, but I hinted at some of the older medicines. My mom wanted me to see if I could be put back on anxiety medicines, partially to control my tachycardia episodes. I mentioned being on Klonopin, but didn’t push it. Around the time I mentioned it, I had broken out in a sweat and felt like I was about to fall over. I pretty much struggled to get through the rest of the (brief) appointment and then trudge out to the cart in the cold, wet November rain. We had to go get dog food (because we’d run out and it would’ve inconvenienced my dad to come back) and pick up medicine from the pharmacy (again, so he wouldn’t be inconvenienced). By the time we got home, and I could finally figure out if I had a fever or what, it was about 5:30 (past the time when any doctor around here will answer their phone) and my temperature was 100.1°F (37.8°C). I chugged some ice water, took 2 Tylenol, and rested on ice. Thus began a week of sleeping, Tylenol, and icing myself down. (I kept forgetting to call the doctor.)

I slept a lot. I was sleeping so much that I was waking up with horrible pains in my hip/back area, and I eventually decided that I was going to have to sleep in shorter intervals. So, I slept about 3-4 hours at a time, which helped the pain some. It didn’t help the sickness or the fever.

I was going to call the gynecologist yesterday, but I slept through office hours yesterday, and ended up calling today. When I called today, I was told that it would be sometime in the second week of December before they could see me. So, I’m going back for my re-check then.

I’m hoping the weird sleep and fever will get better. It shouldn’t continue that long, should it? And hopefully, by then, the period, the one that had gone away and has now come back, might be less flow-y and clot-y, except that it’s me and that’s how mine roll. Gotta think positive, right?

Oh, and one last thing, has anyone seen Jonna (aka Jojo from plinsessa/hellfrozenrain/bubblecandy). It’s been around 2 months since I’ve heard anything from her. I was wondering how she’s doing.

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