Internutz and real life....

I had my profile on Facebook deleted. I'm not entirely sure why, but suspect it was nothing more than being a "fake" profile. Some sort of way to eliminate cyber bullying is the official reason given for these types of deletions. Sadly the reasoning is lost on me as well as deletions to others for things that amount to freedom of speech or expression.

To set up a new profile more hoops had to be jumped through but it has kept me busy to a degree.

Of course the hoops only provide more ways to keep track of us who may have multiple profiles for family, friends and neighbors, as well as having an outlet for amusement purposes. Some may look at it as an alter ego that can do things that you can only do in cyber spaces.

Let your imagination run wild and you can do it online where no-tell motels are more numerous than Mickey D's.

The reason this is mentioned is that a good percentage of my time is spent online. Erie Crackered, formally Erie Cracker on FB is a way of venting at times what is real. As mentioned in previous posts, my mask is wearing thin, but there is still a certain amount of protection in that guise. Those who know me have been great in keeping me...safe?

But I have some fun, try not to be too savage in my trollishness and friends have been made. The thing though, the fact is it is the internutz and isn't really real. It's just the people playing that are real. Sometimes that comes out humorously. Not to say that real facts and bits of lives are not shared. And that is how some have become friends beyond the names on the list.

It's also how a lot of hours get burned up that should be used for something more productive.

Like house cleaning.

Real life has been interesting lately as I have more company on a daily basis. Don, who happily is not drinking, has been an almost daily visitor for coffee. So much so that I'm thinking he needs a coffee pot as well. Not so he won't stop for coffee, but so I can go someplace in the morning for a change in scenery. It might also cut down on my coffee and creamer expenses.

Hey, have you checked the price of that stuff recently?

A side benefit is he is also getting me out of the house more often. A walk downtown for supplies. A stop by to talk with a few friends and to get some sunshine and fresh air. Winter will be soon enough, so for now the more often the better from my point of view. A way to keep my world broader than just a keyboard and a monitor.

I can make a pile of excuses to avoid those safaris, but more often or not I do get outside.

At the same time it has had an effect on my hitting the pipe. While not eliminated, my using has been curtailed in a fashion. Don's not drunk and throwing money at me. He actually is doing something I wish I could at times. He's using his cash to do things that make him happy. I'm less inclined to ask for money as well when he's sober.

So what is owed to him is considerably less than in the past. As in almost nothing.

Almost nothing.

This also lessens the chances of me taking a front from the Dude. My back up is not as sure as it was in the past. The benefits of another sobriety has had a ripple effect. I'm not complaining as it helps me do what at times I cannot do myself.

On a different note, Don and I went to Dollar General. He asked if I needed anything and I really didn't but as soon as I looked at anything to hard he was offering to purchase it for me. I relented and had him buy me a dictionary and a Diet Coke. I put it on the tab I owe him, but I'm certain he'll refuse to be repaid.

That does make me uncomfortable but...

I guess it makes him feel better and I'm all for that. Again, there's a ripple effect.

But what spoiled the trip was my needing to use a rest room. Dollar General doesn't allow customers to use theirs and frankly few places downtown allow "us" to use their facilities. When informed of their not having public restrooms I mischievously replied that I hoped I didn't end up pissing myself in the store.

But that's me. I just can't pass the chance to make a smart ass remark when it presents itself. Sometimes my outbursts aren't in good taste, whatever that is...

After all, you are reading this on the internutz, where anything can happen.

Wasting time and getting wasted.

Both are a waste but it helps to pass the time.

Seemingly having a lot of time on one's hands is an illusion. Things still need to be accomplished. Errands to be run, cleaning to do and laundry that is sitting in the corner are all hollering at me. Do this, do that and get it done so you can do something else.

Yesterday was a complete waste to add to all of this situation. Don was called to have a cup of coffee and he showed up at a little past 9 A.M. with his plastic bottle of liquid stupidity. I was going to not have any at that early hour, but eventually caved in to a few sips.

A few sips turned into a few gulps and a few gulps were enough to get me donkey faced drunk.

Yeah, yeah, I know. Twelve steppers, drug and alcohol professionals and a few self righteous folks will have a field day on the fact that I got stewed in an unplanned fashion. The fact is that while there were other plans for the day, nothing important was really missed. A few things were just put on the back burner for awhile.

Again.

It's not all bleak or dark or depressing. Some good things did happened, or perhaps more correctly, nothing really bad happened. As in Don didn't give me any money. Actually, no money was taken from Don even though an offer was made. More vodka was also put in reserve for the day when Don is shaking just a bit too much.

That does not make me any kind of hero.

I have said no or ignored his offers in the past. The fact is that there is always a price to be paid when taking his money beyond the simple fact that he needs to be repaid. Those costs range from the temporary insanity that goes hand in hand with smoking crack to the depression that always seems to follow using that stuff.

So, mood is better, resolve is being strengthened and maybe today will result in some accomplishments that will make life a bit more comfortable.

Sitting here is not getting anything done, though..

It's been a mixed bag.

Tuesday and Thursday had me taking a few hits and drinking a few beers and doing a few tokes. Monday and Wednesday just had me taking a few tokes of medicine.

Both days when some crack was in the picture, as for the most days when I do that, were unplanned. Some money was had from Don and some was cash tucked away for a rainy day.

It was raining yesterday.

That's not entirely correct. I'm talking about the planned use, not the rain. When check time comes, I have planned what will be spent and how I'll spread that using out over several days. I have found that calling the Dude just once daily has facilitated getting a buzz over more days. This is in contrast to calling many times a day and being without in a very short period of time.

That is an improvement in regards to what might be called wasting it all at once. Budgeting and those lists have helped in that regard. It might also be pointed out that smoking weed afterwards has helped to lower the amount smoked in one particular day. I am disinclined to make that second call when stoned on weed and makes coming down a bit less frantic.

Less frantic in that the cravings for more are considerably lessened by the weed.

When one considers that I would smoke in one day what now is my monthly consumption, it is a big deal. It is to me anyway and that's what is most important.

Now I have to talk about Don.

To blame Don for my unplanned using is wrong. But I have ceased encouraging him to lend me money. When he has an excess of cash on hand though, invariably he will make an offer to slide a few bucks my way. Especially if he is under the influence. That condition is almost constant now, as his financial picture is improving, even though his health is rapidly going down the toilet.

He hasn't been here as often as he has in the past. In part this might be his discovery of my pouring off some of his vodka to reserve for him later. Like to stave off full blown DTs or at least to keep him from shaking himself out of a chair. The other factor is that he has increasingly been less capable of even getting out of his bed.

Tuesday had him calling early in the evening. I thought he might be calling to see what was cooking for dinner. He eats here occasionally, and as mentioned before is welcome company at times. This call was straight to the point though. He asks if I need a couple of bucks "to do your thing." He was already three sheets to the wind.

Did I say no?

Of course I said OK! At the same time I did one thing never done in the past. I asked if he could bring it by here. I thought he sounded incapable of getting out of his door, so if he did show up at all it would be several hours later or even a few days later. Contrary to what should have happened though, he agreed to stop by and said he would be here in 5 minutes. One hope in that was when really drunk five minutes has turned into 2 days.

My other hope was that he say if you want some cash you have to come get it yourself. There were a handful of excuses at hand that could have been used to keep me from tromping to his door. While the excuses were handy, it must be noted that the twisting of my stomach may well have taken me right to his door.

As a matter of fact, I would put money on my traveling for that money.

Five minutes later though, the doorbell rings and there he was. A little unstable on his feet, but standing there all the same. After being invited in, we shot the shit for a bit about things other than his temporary abundance in cash. After a bit though, he digs into his pocket and pulls out a wad of cash. He peels off what he thought was the agreed to amount and lays it on the table.

I didn't take it, but let the money sit on the table.

That was a good move on my part,because as it turns out there was more money there than he wanted to loan. There was also more money there than I wanted to have to repay. After a few minutes he does flip through the cash and discovers his mistake. Happily he puts the excess money back in his pocket.

Happily because he took that burden off of my shoulders. While I would have and will happily pay him what was agreed to, I am not sure that he would have been repaid what was originally laid out on my table. While thinking that all of his money would have been repaid, regardless of the amount, part of me doubts that fact. Just being honest about how a crackhead mind works.

And just pointing out the various ways we lose the word no from our vocabulary.

You have to have a plan.

Yeah, it's that time again. Time to plan, make lists of what is needed and what should get paid.

What should get paid?

Well, everything that will ensure that my roof is over my head for another month for starters. Making sure that there are lights in my home is another. Also paying medical bills so the Docs, techs and others will be willing to do what needs to be done.

Also Don needs to be repaid. That's important for more than selfish reasons as this guy does watch my back as I watch out for him. It's a two way street, but that is not to say I'm not getting the better part of the deal. This also is to make sure when he is in one of those moods things will go my way.

Hey, I'm a crackhead, remember?

An inventory of the pantry as well as the refrigerator needs to be done. Grocery shopping is now a twice monthly chore. While I have enough canned foods of various types, some fresh meat and veggies is always a welcome addition to my diet. One cannot live on Spam alone.

Chore is too cold of a word to use for those excursions to the market or WallyWorld. It is a welcome experience from being cooped up in this place. Seeing and being around nearly normal people gives me some perspective of what life might be like without a pipe in my mouth. I also get a glimpse of what I don't want to be as well.

If you're wondering what I'm talking about, go to one of many sites dedicated to photos of typical, or not so typical WalMart shoppers. I don't think I fit that mold, but that is a judgement best left to others.

Oh! Those of you who might have an opinion on that can keep it to yourself.

Anyway, with enough money set aside and out of reach, getting enough food so leaning to much on the food banks is a possibility. No, actually it is a reality. So is the promise of reintroducing some material comforts and items back into my life. Besides, money spent there is not getting smoked up.

Now, I had better get my ass in gear. Sitting here, banging on the keyboard is not getting it done. Planning needs to be finished and even more importantly it needs to be executed. Just talking about it just doesn't cut the mustard.

If I don't follow through even I don't want to see that train wreck.

Oh, hell no!

I'm sitting in the library.

And the change of scenery is wonderful. Sitting in my apartment is depressing at times, even with all the distractions which I have to occupy myself.

Yesterday my neighbor came by with his bottle and a few bucks. He asks me if I want to borrow some money so I can get some crack. I do what all crackheads do when faced with that offer. I took his money.

Now, let's get one thing completely straight here. I am going to pay my friend back every nickle. Besides he has a mind for money, how much he's owed, how much he owes and everyone involved in those transactions. That ability has proven itself regardless of how fucked up drunk he is. I mean the guy has handed me $20.00 then immediately passed out on my kitchen floor, and pisses his pants, wakes up after I've smoked all my crack and stagger to his apartment.

He'll ask a few days later if I was paying him back that twenty on Saturday or Monday. Money is coming Saturday, Don. Not that I would cheat him for the few dollars he lends. It just isn't enough to create problems over.

On the other hand I know crackheads that would beat you for your last 5 bucks if they could. That's how stupid their mind gets when things get rolling and they are crazy craving just one more hit. Then that one more hit turns into another just one more hit and that shit can last for days.

It's amazing how far a crackhead can go with little resources and a jones to keep them running. Many years ago, when I was in Florida to "recover" I went out with $47.00 and managed to stay high for 3 days. I had help with that, a vehicle to get around in and other crackheads who knew people who knew people who...

And the most I'm going to say about that is at least one crack dealer got beat for more than a few bucks worth of shit.

But today is the first nice, sunny, almost warm day we have had in Erie for it seems nearly a week. I'm out amongst people, getting some fresh air and not really caring a wit at the moment for a hit.

Things change, but at the moment things are good...

Or as my friend says, Better is Better. And it certainly is today!

A little disappointed in myself

Why? Oh why?

Well with the best of intentions I had planned to go to the Erie Art Museum's Blues and Jazz Fest. It didn't happen and the only one to blame is me. I could have gotten a ride from a friend who had even offered to take me. But it was early and I didn't want to spend the whole day at the park.

Besides, the better groups were going to be playing later in the day.

The way a crackhead's mind works is even a mystery to me at times. But this much is clear. I had money in my pocket. I did have enough money to pay off Don, my vodka swilling neighbor. So I did pay him, as he was in a position of needing the cash right when it showed up.

I did have enough money to go to the fest and buy a T-shirt, which I thought were cool this year. I also had enough money to buy some food from the vendors and have something to drink as well. I even had enough money to have taken a cab home after everything was all said and done.

As usual though the money went to the Crack Man.

I didn't even sip Don's rot gut to get the ball rolling. It's as though an automatic reaction to having cash on hand is to call the Dude. Not a good thing to be certain, but it's a characteristic of mine that really needs work.

To add insult to this all, the twenty I paid back to Don was re-borrowed yesterday.

One other thing. This is a biggy to boot. The dryer in my building isn't working.

Now I have a machine full of wet clothes, and that mean I'm going to have to turn my boxers inside out yet again.

Well, they're not sticky yet.

Vodka, Drunken Neighbors, and Cash Equals

Crack.

Well, I am going to have to re-examine my motives for being nice when my neighbor shows up with his bottle. It seems a few sips and my crackhead brain starts working on getting Don to throw a few bucks my way for crack. He knows what I'm using the cash for and really doesn't care all that much. He knows he'll be repaid in a reasonable period of time and like he says, for him it's like "money in the bank."

But working him the way I do is just a variation on a theme. I have promised myself not to get involved with buying or getting crack on credit. Using Don and his loaned cash is the same thing as getting something from the Dude until next check time. This has gotten me into big, serious and possibly dangerous trouble in the past.

So, it's time to stop that little diversion of my neighbors funds from his pocket to mine.

Twenty bucks here and twenty bucks there can amount to my whole months income if this is let to continue in any way shape or form. Buying crack on credit, regardless of the source of that credit is not a good thing. That is a slippery slope to be avoided.

If it seems I'm repeating myself here, it's all for the good. To impress upon myself and anyone who is in a similar situation about what not to do. Lessons learned from the past that need to be taken to heart today.

Am I in deep debt with Don or anyone else?

No.

That's the point though, and that is the direction I should be striving to be headed. If I do cave in to that temptation it will be counter productive to my goals.

If you don't have the cash, just don't do it.

This ain't a Nike commercial.

Not quite out the other side.

No sense laying blame on Don.

But his being drunk with money in his pocket does fire up my crackhead thinking. It works way faster than the fastest working Cray Super Computer. I can go from a spark of an idea to a formulated plan in the time it takes to get out of my chair. When it comes to getting money for a few hits, it's incredibly frightening how it all works out. It's almost like a reflex reaction rather than a thought out process.

Sharing a few shots of that nasty vodka doesn't slow down the process in the least. As a matter of fact, it does seem to increase the speed of the particular processes in my rewired mind.

So I get $50.00 in no time at all. It's a loan, not a gift from Don. I don't want gifts, or grants or any other form of subsidized funds for my crack research. Besides, it's not a legitimate research project by anyones stretch of the imagination.

So the call is made and the crack is delivered and I close my doors. Shutting out the rest of the world while engaging in a few hours of a chemical vacation.

Things are OK this morning, as plans to do productive things to improve my life are in the cards today.

Probably tomorrow as well.

Well, that's the plan anyway.

Another Weekend Has Passed.

And nothing of much consequence occurred.

Well, almost nothing.

I had to laugh, because this is so crackhead. About 6 or 8 weeks ago I was ripped off by someone who was supposed to be getting me some crack. In some circles it would have been enough to get the shit kicked out of you. Actually, I have seen people beaten up for much less.

At the time I left an voice mail for this clown telling them to lose my number. I erased them from my phone's contact list as well. Good riddance, I thought as this person was just your typical, stereotypical crackhead type character and I was no longer comfortable with them in my house.

Yes, I broke one of my own rules about allowing crack smokers in my house.

Well, what was done was done and I thought I wouldn't hear from them again. At least part of me thought I wouldn't hear from them again. The crackhead in me knew that at some time in the future, when they needed money or something other from me they would call or show up.

Crackheads are so predictable.

So the phone rings and after answering this person says, "Hi! This is H_____, my guy from Ohio is in town and he has FIRE!" It was a call designed to plant a seed or strike a spark to get me on a roll. This is also a ploy used by some dealers to get some business going.

It's also a tried and true tactic of mainstream sales people to get sales.

To get action you have to make something happen. Create some excitement, generate some interest, catch a crackhead jonesing and let word of mouth do the rest. Merchandising, marketing and salesmanship cuts through all segments of society and all goods, whether they are illegal or not.

My response was "I'm broke for two more weeks." The call was terminated before I could flip my phone shut. I had to laugh, because the caller never even acknowledged the previous rip-off. To them it was like the past was forgotten because we have got fire today.

It also showed the desperation they felt, as the stuff, where ever it came from had to be good and they wanted to get more. They had no more money so they wanted me, or you or whoever had some cash to buy them more crack.

While the "beast" had some regrets that no money was available, I on the whole am happier today for that fact.

I think...

One other thing. I watched a movie online that shook me to the core. The movie's title is "Cracked Not Broken." It's what they might have called a trigger movie in one of the numerous rehabs I attended. The film is about young woman who was in the crack trap. She threw away her good job and white picket fence existence for this drug.

The film portrays a happy ending, with her being clean and normalcy restored to her life. The part of me that knows how that shit works doubts she is still clean.

I pray I'm wrong.

The part of the film that disturbed me was the fact that I knew that girl. Not that individual in particular, but that woman and the lifestyle she was pursuing in general. The hotel rooms, even in Toronto, were typical crack smoker's dens. I've partied with these women, gotten to know some pretty well and we have exchanged our little stories with each other.

After checking our cash, our stash of dope and all of our valuables, we've parted in most cases friends. There have been exceptions to that, but those instances have been a small percentage.

The other part of the film that disturbed me was her manner of ingestion. She was an IV crack user. Some of you are going, "Huh?" The fact is that there are some who go through the process of converting the crack back into cocaine so it can be injected.

Yes, I know the process, but it will not be described here.

Watching that movie and her poking and digging to find a good vein had my stomach in a knot. Not that I was triggered to use from that, but from having witnessed first hand that continual jabbing and stabbing to find a spot to get a hit dredged up memories I would rather have forgotten.

I have good veins and plan to keep it that way. That needle shit is too much work and creates too much damage. And all those tissues with all that blood is beyond unsanitary.

Just put the fuckin' rock on the pipe and hit it. Done!

If you want to see an example of the happy, carefree lives of crackheads just click the title to this post. It should be noted that Harm Reduction programs are alive and well in Toronto.

For me, that's not my life today and better is better.

What does a crackhead know anyway?

Things started out well enough Friday night.

A friend stopped by with a little weed and shared some with me. We had a senseless, but fun conversation about 2012 and other nonsensical things that people often do after smoking some herb. I was happy for the company and thankful for that gentle buzz.

Saturday morning started out pleasantly enough, with the temperature and humidity moderating a bit with sunny skies. Then I tried to log onto the Internet to discover my connection was gone, gone, gone. A repairman came yesterday to fix the problem, a broken or poorly spliced cable.

A little later in the day my friend who keeps money stopped by with a case of beer, which I requested and a few dollars.

Well, forty dollars.

So i did what I usually do when some cash crosses my palm. I called the Dude and he delivered a forty piece to me. It was the same old, same old with the IBI and the other accompanying insanity that goes along with smoking that crap. But that little switch has again been turned off and rational thought returned.

I laugh at my thoughts and actions after all is over, but....

With no Internet to occupy my time on Sunday, I watched some DVDs picked up from the library. I also did a little chef stuff. I made some pulled BBQ pork. It turned out pretty good thanks to my new crock pot. It's almost like not cooking at all.

I shared some with my other neighbor, who does not have his jaw wired shut. Hopefully he and his lady friend enjoyed those sandwiches. I thought the stuff was dynamite! No complaints were heard, so all must have been well with my recipe.

My recipe consists of adding appropriate spices and such that are at hand.

Monday had me traveling to the library to beat on the keys of their computer. I had a pile of emails to sort through and some replies were made to some. I was going to post to this blog but time ran out. Just as well, as my original posting idea was blown out of the window by another little development. Besides the repairman's appointment had me hustling back to my home.

It's just as well that no post was made on Monday, as I had time to consider the results of a suggestion made to an online friend. At the time that suggestion was made concerning dynamics at a family gathering. It was simple advice on how to act or react to an ex-spouse who was or is in the throes of addiction. This ex is a loony tunes type according to my friend. Also included in that suggestion was a reminder of for who and why the celebration was taking place.

According to my online friend, the suggestion was taken to heart and helped them enjoy that day. At the time they were not aware of my addiction or life experiences or the hundreds of hours spent with counselors and therapists. When a "thank you" was written regarding that advice I took a risk and revealed a bit of my background and the existence of this blog.

Many of you regular readers know how cautious the Erie Crackhead is about this blog.

So, I started to wonder about how this person may have reacted or heeded my advice had they known ahead of time about what and who I was. My experience in the past has been that any suggestion or contribution made by me to people who knew my background was invalidated or highly discounted.

Besides, what does a fuckin' crackhead know?

More than he wants to at times...

This is a Only a Test

"This is a test of the Emergency Blogcast System. The author of this blog in voluntary cooperation with no one but himself has developed this system to keep you informed in the event of an emergency. If this had been an actual emergency, the Attention Signal you just heard would have been followed by official information, news or instructions. This blog serves the Erie Crackhead's local area. This concludes this test of the Emergency Blogcast System."

Well, I am facing a test of sorts. I have money in my pocket and I have to make up my mind about something. It's the do I stay or do I go conundrum. To the Rib Fest or call the Dude. To hang out with people or shut myself up in the apartment and geek for a few hours.

I shouldn't say hangout with people I know, because those I might run into may want nothing to with me anyway. They might feel that being seen chatting with me would put them in an uncomfortable situation with others they might know.

Erie is a small town. Everybody know everybody. Well alomost. The six degrees of separation is cut to about three. What am I worrying about anyway. Do I care at this point what anyone thinks of me. Damage is done and now I'm crawling out of my hole to see the world, Kinda', sorta' anyway.

But there is enough money in my pocket to go one way or the other. If I buy crack I certainly don't want to wander down to the fest without any money. Just to watch other people eat. Get real.

But this is a test. and there is no pass or fail. There just the choice to go one way or another. Is it good choice or bad choice? Or is it just a choice? Like the Lovin' Spoonful tune, "Did you ever have to make up your mind"

So any of you out there who wonder what a Crackhead goes through when they have a few bucks in their pocket, can now see what's up.

I'll let you know how this all plays out.

Fuck, I hate tests !

Better is Better

Despite my whining, and doubts and a lot of negative thinking I am making progress.

Money, not a great deal but nonetheless a positive balance is in the bank. My checking account has usually been in the range of $200 to $300 in the hole at this time of the month. Debts for loans from my neighbor are only $30. I owe no one else a nickel. In past months I would have owed, at a minimum, $250 to others. I have money put aside, out of my reach. It'll work out to about $100 by my next check. Right now it's $150, but I know that at least $40 will get smoked up.

But looking at the numbers, I've smoked about $400 less than in previous months.

Yeah, there was still about or will be about $500.00 puffed away, but consumption has been cut almost in half.

Better is better.

Doing things, not to get through cravings, but to stave them off in the first place have helped. This silly blog has refocused me, even with the negative shit in it at times. Not dwelling on getting high, but talking about what's been happening. Also exposing myself to the thoughts of people way smarter than me. And to thoughts of people who are walking in the same shoes as me.

Yeah, better is better.

It's Getting Close.

Yep, it's getting close to payday.

I have plans in place to insure all my bills are paid. Rent, electric, doctor and pharmacy. Things that most definitely need to be covered. Without those financial commitments covered, any semblance of a normal life will evaporate.

Buying enough smokes to get me through until my next check is something that should be done as well. There are friends that will spot me a carton here and there. That doesn't make me feel any better knowing full well that I could have covered those costs before squandering that money on maintaining a buzz.

So again the lists are made.

Groceries to carry me through. Planning in that regard, as well as an occasional visit to a food bank keep me fed. Getting money squirreled away for things and normal life activities beyond the bare necessities has been a problem. It also has been the reason that borrowing for odds and ends, like cigarettes, through the course of a month has been pretty constant.

I don't like owing anyone money. Naturally, even if my bank account isn't overdrawn, those repayments put me behind. Not a lot, but enough.

This month is also complicated by the fact that I may have to return to Dallas this coming month. I really don't want to go. Not going though would mean that some really rotten MFer would get away with doing a serious wrong. This jerk needs to go to prison. I hope to help make that happen.

Another thing to think about while I make my budget.

Another thing to think about before calling my Dude.