More telemarketers

[kiya]

This one wanted to know if I'd gotten their literature. I said "Damned if I know."

Then they asked me if I'd heard of them. I said "No."

They said they're a singles service, and asked me if I was single.

There are times I so wish I didn't have a penalty to my wits rolls. . . .


Drifting vaguely towards sanity in random moments, though I'm still having depression issues. At least I'm remembering to take my vitamins, and I did some poking around the 'net to stare at niacin and depression as a result of talking to baratron earlier.

I'm pondering, in random bits, some of the weird baggage I have from the person who assaulted me, sort of in response to something posted in polyamory earlier, and otherwise in response to . . . well, other stuff. Dealing with damage in the subject of sex is deeply weird, and I think some of the most incredibly difficult stuff I've ever had to do.

Kevin's tired too. He's getting to a point where the stresses I've been dealing with are driving him to detachment, and running out of energy to prevent it. (Though he knows that going detached will do more harm than good, so he's trying to stay able to connect.) He says that what I should do on the subject is get sane, though, so I'm working on that.

There's frustration stuff I should probably get out of my head somewhere, if I can only dredge it up far enough that it's wordable.

I think there was other stuff, but it's fallen out of my head. Tired. Bed now.

Comments

[mikz.livejournal.com]

I sometimes feel a bit weird when people put light stuff and heavy stuff in one post, especially when I feel like making a comment about the light stuff, and I've not nothing to say about the heavy stuff except that it saddens and disgusts me to hear that you went throught hat, and I'm sorry it happened. There's also the implied "if you ever want to talk about it..." sentence, which is definitely sincere, but I wonder if it feels out of place because I don't know you very well at all.

Anyhow, I definitely can relate to telemarketers, and I've become very good at avoiding them by never giving my number out. I don't even write it on forms, which usually makes the banks, service providers, etc. say "we do need your number", and me ask "under what circumstances do you see your organisation using it" to which they pretty much always say "erm, um...", and I say "okay, my number is 555 1234". I've noticed that banks and whatever never ring you when there's something urgent to say; they just write a letter and you receive it when it's too late. The only time they ever ring is when they're trying to sell you something. So I never give my number out to anyone except trusted friends. It works.

[kiya]

Heh. I noticed that when the bank calls, they get stymied by the nonexistence of "Mrs. Marsh", and it apparently doesn't occur to them to look at the other name on the joint account to figure out who the fuck they're talking to.

It doesn't inspire me to great faith in the existence of intelligent life on Earth.

[mikz.livejournal.com]

Oh, there's plenty of intelligent life on Earth. Telemarketers just come from another planet.

Mrs Marsh? Oh, you've got to be happy that that's not your name! Us Aussies were bombarded with toothpaste commercials featuring a Mrs Marsh who insisted that the fluoride in Colgate "gets right into the enamel, like liquid gets into this chalk". Enter bratty kid, who says "Ooooh! It does get in!"

... and people wonder why I don't watch commercial television...

[kiya]

It's really hard for me to judge these things; I'm from Mars, myself.

Cuuuuute commercial. Heh. "Mrs. Marsh" is my mother-in-law. I think she wants me to call her Marie. I don't know what to call her, so I mostly don't call her anything. ;)

Hey, /there's/ my wallet. I can buy more mice now.

[mikz.livejournal.com]

Ha! I knew that "men are from Mars, women are from Venus" stuff was bullshit!

Mousies! There was a mouse running around the local shopping arcade the other day. I was going to rescue it from this shopkeeper who wanted to squish it, but these British tourists beat me to it.

Of course, you probably just feed 'em to snakes... which somehow seems more natural to me than being squished by a shop keeper. Maybe he should keep snakes.

[kiya]

*sniggers* at the pic. Very appropriate. ;)

Just the one snake. Royal python, he is, and a lovely fellow at that. (Oh how I loves them mousies, mousies what I love to eat. Bite they tiny heads off, nibble on they tiny feet.)

Though a friend of mine in elementary school kept mice. We'd build them massive palaces out of boxes and cardboard tubes.

The mice we get in the house loose tend to get played to death by the furry incompentents, though, which is probably also more natural than being squished.

[mikz.livejournal.com]

Yes, but it's also less nice. =)

I made cardboard palaces for my budgie when I was a kid. He thought it was fun too.

[kiya]

Heh. I wanna parrot. (Kevin wants to know when he signed up for the zoo.)

[baratron.livejournal.com]

Ha! I knew that "men are from Mars, women are from Venus" stuff was bullshit! ... Of course, you probably just feed 'em to snakes... which somehow seems more natural to me than being squished by a shop keeper. Maybe he should keep snakes.

And there I was assuming she meant computer mice. Well, whaddya know?

[kiya]

*giggle*

My pretty snakie:

• Gravity-defying!
  
• Is that a snake in my pocket or am I. . .
  
• Staring. . .
  
• But Mom, this is my favorite program!
  

Also my userpic. ;)