Best posted in the blog.
I seriously hope the NYC office of the DMV burns in hell.
I've been trying to get my NY State ID card. I've been down there numerous times. Showed them a photocopy of my birth cert. No good. Showed them the copy of my birth cert we got in 1970. No good. Fuckers wanted a certified copy of the birth cert. Fine. Took.. two subways, and cabs, to lower Manhattan to get the fucking certified copy of the birth cert. Stood in line today.. for.. an hour.. Got to the window, and showed the bastard my SS card, and the friggin certified copy of the birth cert . No friggin good. The bastard showed me a "points value" of things they need that totals up to six, Mine only counted as "four". This,.,. after they lied to me, on numerous occasions, was quote "Two forms of ID, including SS card, and certified copy of birth certificate". Why lie to me on so many occasions? The fucker showed me a whole list of things that can supposedly add up to six, and now I have to figure out how to go about it.
What pisses me off most is two things. One, they were never straight with me, that I needed a certified copy of the birth cert, until the last time I went there. Two, why the hell tell me that I only needed two forms of ID, including the SS card, and certified copy, if they had this "points system". I wanted to seriously kick the guy who I spoke to today in the balls. One bitch lied to me the last time, and then this fuckface refused to do it again today.
They want "Work ID". Er,.,. Geniuses.., I'm a fucking self employed solo antiques and jewelry sales person. I'm trying to get your NYS ID so I can have an ID that says my address, so I can get a job?
When I calm down, I'm going to figure this out.
Something must be in "Mitch is having everything go wrong mode". As upset as I was last year after my mom died, things were actually better then. I got the Apt I wanted, sold a bunch of stuff, was getting along better with friends and family.
Now.. I've been ignored about my business, Barney is acting horribly.. my dad is behaving worse than ever, and my aunt tells me that I just have to accept the fact that Barney views that everyone else comes first but me. This after me being his sounding board last year when things were crappy for him.
"God helps those who helps themselves". Bullshit. Doesn't apply to me. I did many business. Nothing. Approached sales sources to present my biz. Nothing. Was nice to my father and his family, got shat on. Licked Barney's wounds when he was down, he shits on me now that he's up. Tried many sources to sell my art work to raise cash while I'm job hunting and business setting up.. nothing. Was nice to Maria.. she tells me she wants a rich guy. Lived with my mom in NJ for 3 months to do everything possible to extend her life, almost died myself. Her life wasn't extended. She died anyway.
I'm seriously at my wits end. This isn't an "I'm going to commit suicide post", because I wouldn't do that, to give my uncle and my father the satisfaction of my killing myself.. or to shit on my mom';s memory, after all she put into me.
This is an "I don't believe in God helping those who help themselves post". Bottom line, if there IS A GOD, which I seriously doubt.. he helps slimebags and people who cause pain.
I seriously need about a week on a desert island, no phone, no talking to anyone, just to clear my head and think.
My aunt says this is going to get better. Bullshit. I have no reason to believe that.
Anyhow, that's all. I posted this here, to keep it off the main forum, and ask that any comments not be posted with the idea of shit being rubbed in my face. Bottom line, anyone's whose not in my shoes, doesn't know how this feels. In my mind, I almost feel like this is telling me something. Maybe. .. I was Sheila's son, she';s not here anymore, and no one else in my real life gives a fuck. If something happened to me, none of them would care.
I'm not going to kill myself. As I said, I don't want to give my father the satisfaction of feeling joy if I did that, or to shit on my mom';s memory. I'm just saying.., I want to work on getting all this shit ironed out, catch a couple of breaks, or I do want it to be over. I cant go on like this.
That's all.
I seriously hope the NYC office of the DMV burns in hell.
I've been trying to get my NY State ID card. I've been down there numerous times. Showed them a photocopy of my birth cert. No good. Showed them the copy of my birth cert we got in 1970. No good. Fuckers wanted a certified copy of the birth cert. Fine. Took.. two subways, and cabs, to lower Manhattan to get the fucking certified copy of the birth cert. Stood in line today.. for.. an hour.. Got to the window, and showed the bastard my SS card, and the friggin certified copy of the birth cert . No friggin good. The bastard showed me a "points value" of things they need that totals up to six, Mine only counted as "four". This,.,. after they lied to me, on numerous occasions, was quote "Two forms of ID, including SS card, and certified copy of birth certificate". Why lie to me on so many occasions? The fucker showed me a whole list of things that can supposedly add up to six, and now I have to figure out how to go about it.
What pisses me off most is two things. One, they were never straight with me, that I needed a certified copy of the birth cert, until the last time I went there. Two, why the hell tell me that I only needed two forms of ID, including the SS card, and certified copy, if they had this "points system". I wanted to seriously kick the guy who I spoke to today in the balls. One bitch lied to me the last time, and then this fuckface refused to do it again today.
They want "Work ID". Er,.,. Geniuses.., I'm a fucking self employed solo antiques and jewelry sales person. I'm trying to get your NYS ID so I can have an ID that says my address, so I can get a job?
When I calm down, I'm going to figure this out.
Something must be in "Mitch is having everything go wrong mode". As upset as I was last year after my mom died, things were actually better then. I got the Apt I wanted, sold a bunch of stuff, was getting along better with friends and family.
Now.. I've been ignored about my business, Barney is acting horribly.. my dad is behaving worse than ever, and my aunt tells me that I just have to accept the fact that Barney views that everyone else comes first but me. This after me being his sounding board last year when things were crappy for him.
"God helps those who helps themselves". Bullshit. Doesn't apply to me. I did many business. Nothing. Approached sales sources to present my biz. Nothing. Was nice to my father and his family, got shat on. Licked Barney's wounds when he was down, he shits on me now that he's up. Tried many sources to sell my art work to raise cash while I'm job hunting and business setting up.. nothing. Was nice to Maria.. she tells me she wants a rich guy. Lived with my mom in NJ for 3 months to do everything possible to extend her life, almost died myself. Her life wasn't extended. She died anyway.
I'm seriously at my wits end. This isn't an "I'm going to commit suicide post", because I wouldn't do that, to give my uncle and my father the satisfaction of my killing myself.. or to shit on my mom';s memory, after all she put into me.
This is an "I don't believe in God helping those who help themselves post". Bottom line, if there IS A GOD, which I seriously doubt.. he helps slimebags and people who cause pain.
I seriously need about a week on a desert island, no phone, no talking to anyone, just to clear my head and think.
My aunt says this is going to get better. Bullshit. I have no reason to believe that.
Anyhow, that's all. I posted this here, to keep it off the main forum, and ask that any comments not be posted with the idea of shit being rubbed in my face. Bottom line, anyone's whose not in my shoes, doesn't know how this feels. In my mind, I almost feel like this is telling me something. Maybe. .. I was Sheila's son, she';s not here anymore, and no one else in my real life gives a fuck. If something happened to me, none of them would care.
I'm not going to kill myself. As I said, I don't want to give my father the satisfaction of feeling joy if I did that, or to shit on my mom';s memory. I'm just saying.., I want to work on getting all this shit ironed out, catch a couple of breaks, or I do want it to be over. I cant go on like this.
That's all.
