APRIL 30, TUESDAY
(9:05am)
This is what I'm talking about. Toxic men who think speaking to another human being like this is okay. You don't talk to anyone this way especially to a woman you were lucky enough to have sex with.
Trump is the same piece of shit kind of guy. And if people, women, don't call out men for this fucked up behavior, men will think its okay. Toxic parents make toxic children. Toxic children, unless repeatedly checked, grow up to be utter complete a-holes. And that goes for both men and women. Somewhere along the lines a bunch of shitty women decided to make babies. Why? If you hate life so much why would you hazard your body for a year, and then be financially anchored for another 18 years, to do what exactly ? Breed more shitty humans? Is it worth it?
At 55 years of age finally seeking another marriage after 12 years being single, I just have one prerequisite, don't be an a-hole. That it. Just don't be an a-hole. Have opinions, experiences, luggage, but have already learned from them and be wiser for it. Being pretty and well drawn on paper is for cartoon characters, not human beings.
As we exit the month for fools, ladies, young gals, if for a second you question the response of your parents regarding the way someone (anyone) treats you, get a second, third, fourth opinion from someone who has been around some, especially from those who are your grandma's age because honey they (we) have seen and heard it all.
I'm so tired of the way people treat each other. Communication is everything and if people fail you due to their lack of communication - move the F on and find people who can speak like they've had a seventh grade education.
I don't hate Trump because he's a Republican, a failure of a Republican at that, I hate him because he's a horrible human being. Why people praise horrible human beings... I truly don't know. It's a mystery.
APRIL 28, SUNDAY
(4:16pm)
Four days of rain is driving me crazy.
I made a YouTube thingy of some places I walked around last week.
APRIL 27, SATURDAY
(4:32am)
So... the Republican governor of South Dakota, Kristi Noem, wrote a book. And reportedly in this crackerjack piece of literature she casually mentions killing a 14 month old dog for not learning how to hunt. The dog wasn't "trainable" so Noem dragged the dog a gravel pit and shot it dead.
And this is who Trump is supposedly "couch casting" for VP.
She seems nice. 🤮
Yesterday I was in Bloomington for a job interview. I was dressed in my California winter wears, glasses on my head, when two high school aged white girls past by me and made the age old comment about "city sluts".
In Minnesota, you're either from the twin cities or you're a townie. Townie girls pride themselves of their uniforms of pullover sweatshirts, jeans or sweats, sneakers, and the hair must be worn in a ponytail. Whereas "city sluts, skanks, ghetto bitches" etc dress and look like, well...
Townie girls hate fashion and makeup.
You see, I was wearing a raincoat because it was raining. And my hair is blowing in the wind because it was also windy out. I'm a horrible human being, I know. But not as horrible as Kristi Noem. At least I have that going for me.
Also, the fact that high school girls (maybe they were college girls) would even comment about a 55 year old woman, um, that's their mothers teaching them to talk like that. Sooooo good luck with these gals in the future fellas. Just imagine what their mothers are teaching them to say about men.
APRIL 26, FRIDAY
(9:19pm)
Ok whatnow?
Found it. Found it. Thought my medical ID was missing but I found it. Holy shit. I'm supposed to be avoiding things that will stress me out, well guess what, everything that's supposed to make my life easier stresses me the fuck out. I might as well shoot up heroin. What's the difference?
APRIL 25, THURSDAY
(8:44am)
I was going to head off to St Thomas this morning (to see about the 13 gravestones) but the wind is supposed to pick up to 30 MPH in a few hours. Thinking I don't want to deal with that again. Again, as in...
For every "would you live here" social media post of a cottage out in the middle of nowhere - yes, yes, a thousand times yes!
"I fell into a burning ring of fire. I went down down down and the flames went higher. And it burns burns burns the ring of fire. The ring of fire."
If you know, you know. ⚫💍
APRIL 24, WEDNESDAY
(11:50am)
My walk yesterday.
Come walk with me.
(9:47am)
If I have to explain it one more time I'll probably have a brain aneurysm and die right here, right now.
If you can work full time, you won't be awarded disability. How does that not make sense to you?
If you could work full time and be awarded disability everyone would be on disability!
My neurologist only wants me to work 18 hours a week MAX in my industry. The stress on my body working more than that will kill me. I have that in writing even.
Where is my conservationist /lumberjack Prince Charming? Where is he?!
(9:18am)
It's so disgusting that after NINE YEARS not talking to each other suddenly my brothers want to "keep in touch". Go fuck yourselves. Take the money. It's what you want. Take it. Take it, and never contact me again. You want to do something for me, let me die in peace.
I care more about this bird I snapped a pic of yesterday, than I do "keeping in touch" with people who only care about the money. Take the money. Never speak to me again. You don't pay hookers for the sex. You pay them to leave afterwards.
(5:27am)
Pro-tip: You may not be book smart but when someone over-explains, know this, it's a lie.
I'm watching O.J Made In America. I remember the white bronco "chase". I had just moved into my studio apartment on Detroit & Fountain. I was waiting for the cable guy to show up. And I just remember thinking how sad. Just like now with the Trump trial. Both men are guilty (in my opinion) of their accused crimes. That's nothing to joke about or celebrate. It's fucking sad. They could have done such great things but instead turned into - what they turned into. And joking about it, guys like Kimmel who are making it about themselves - it's just sad.
Talking to my brother yesterday who has no idea how the working world is. He's never punched in a time card and he has no clue how social security works. No clue. When I finally applied for disability it was explained to me like this, "In reviewing your application I determined we can give you $1,150 a month in disability/social security pending approval." How am I supposed to live on that I ask. "You can also work but you can't make more than $1,150." Ok great. I can live on $2,300 a month. That's why I'm checking things out here in MN. I could probably live on that in CA in the right roommate situation.
In explaining this to my brother, he just simply was not getting it. He doesn't know the difference between being awarded an inheritance and physically working, because he's never punched in a clock that affects your social security in helping decide if you're awarded disability or not. And so he asks 5,000 questions because he doesn't understand how you can not be awarded disability and still work full time. It's maddening talking to people like this.
"Can't you get a job where you're not killing yourself?"
Gee, why didn't I think of that? 🙄 You mean get a job where I have no experience? Oh sure. Let me grab my magic genie lamp and give it a rub.
I didn't talk to my brothers for years and I was better for it.
What has happened to the men folk? How do they not comprehend how the world works?
APRIL 23, TUESDAY
(3:16pm)
Poopy 💩 roommate strikes again. Ugh. Then I had deal with my brother like:
Fam: "It'll be settled after taxes."
(Tax day comes and goes)
Me: "So how's it looking?"
(No reply. No reply. Still no reply)
Me: "So how's it looking?"
Fam: Well... Your email went into my spam folder."
Me: So how's it looking?'
Fam: "Well... There still a bunch of..."
Me: "So not after taxes."
Fam: "Well...."
Me: "So after taxes 2025?"
(No reply. No reply. No reply.)
Me: "So after taxes 2025?"
Fam: "Well... There's still..."
I'm done. Out. Don't contact me ever again. We didn't talk for years so let's go back to that.
APRIL 22, MONDAY
(3:41pm)
AND ANOTHER THING
While I did have some experimental Catholic years, I never considered myself a Catholic. If anything when I was younger I considered myself protestant. These days I guess I'm agnostic. Just in case. More so, I believe adult humans are responsible for their own actions
(3:30pm)
Holy shit. Times are so evil I agree with Charlie Kirk.😦
Fucked up of Columbia for deactivating that professor's card for speaking up against Hamas. How can ANYONE side with Hamas?! What the fuck is wrong with you people? Treason-much? Every American resident who sides with Hamas should share a jail cell block with Trump.
APRIL 21, SUNDAY
(8:32am)
And because it's Sunday I'm going to post my favorite pics of the week...
Taken yesterday actually. This is a historic water tower here in Minneapolis. It's called the Washburn. You have Google.
(8:27am)
AND ANOTHER THING!
Let that orange moron get up on the stand and testify. What's the worst that could possibly happen? Oh boy.
(8:01am)
Thank you for returning to my blog. It's educational, amusing, frightening at times sure-sure, and the free-iest entertainment on the 'net. No ads, no clickbate (that would be my YouTube channel according to the haters) and you get to see (holy shit) the ten year decline from a fun hot sexy bitch to... Well, this. I'm sorry.
Now I actually look like how my penny-store blog has become. Grey hair, sober, boring. I'm sober by default. I would go out and drink a glass of wine from time to time but A: I'm not a fan of people I don't want to be around, and B: men are dirty little monsters.
EXAMPLE: My airbnb male housemate did this to the bathtub 🛁
On second thought, I'll just explain it to you. He left a dozen little brown goo 💩 splots in the tub. Look, I don't care what your butt play practices are, just don't do it where I'm going to happen upon them FFS. 🤢
Moving on...
How many of you caught 4/20 yesterday? No? Me neither. I'm sadly sober although in my retirement years I might take gummies. They work quickly and I'm too lazy to enjoy a nice of bottle of red wine these days.
Also, once again I'm plagued with conflict. I want to work helping others, it's what old women do, but helping others for work is only done by religions. I own a Bible. I read it sometimes. I have one right now on my bedside table. I grew up Protestant. I don't mind going to church. However, I don't think helping others should have religious undertones. So I'm conflicted. A good Christian helps others without mentioning God or forcing God on others. That said, pro tip, when applying for work in the nonprofit field/Lutheran church, don't add your social media page where you repost occasional foul mouth parody Satan. Not everyone shares your sense of humor.
APRIL 20, SATURDAY
(6:52am)
Thank you for returning to my blog (FBI or whoever is reading this penny-store bullshit). I wrote a 7 page op ed for the American Stroke Association. They were asking people for stroke stories for their stroke awareness campaign. Let me tell you something, I was so horribly ill informed on what to do following my stroke, my only want is for people to understand what happens to a person AFTER they have stroke. Recovery is different for everyone but everyone does go through the same basic stages, not all of them, not at the same time, but you know what they're talking about. The only people who know what you go through after a stroke are other stroke survivors. It's terrifying when doctors talk to you on terms of, "Let's see what happens in the next two weeks." Your life is being monitored in terms of weeks at a time. And when you pass the three months survival time, then it's surviving the the first year. After the first year, it's surviving the next five years. A man on IG who befriended me after my stroke, has died. He got to the five year mark and that was it. He was my age, looked great, seemed to be recovering well, and then at the five year mark he died. No one knows why. They call it "complications after a stroke". It's sad, depressing... Scary. I'm entering year three.
Truth is, doctors don't really know what happens to the body after that part of your brain dies. I'm not the same person as before. I don't see the world the same as before. I now have a permanent visual grey haze, and see everything with 5-15 second delay. They call it "brain fog". It fucks you up. The ASA might not use my story because it's 7 pages long and on occasion I call out certain doctors in it. I don't say names but I do accuse doctors of using us as lab rats without our consent. Because they're doctors we just do what they tell us to do without question even if it doesn't make sense to us. And we can't even use that as a defense or doctors will say, "Well, you have brain damage, why would that make sense to you?" Or they'll do what my last primary did and accuse me of being depressed because I questioned his diagnosis. Always get a second opinion and change doctors. I changed primaries immediately after my stroke when the bitch wouldn't return my phone call after telling her I had a stroke. According to Daddy (Google) every year more than 795,000 people in the US have a stroke. Christ. At 55 years of age I've outlived a half dozen of my childhood friends due to cancer or brain aneurysm.
So anyway, there's that.
And as I spend time in my childhood home state, Minnesota, deciding if I want to (basically) retire and die here, a part of me loves being back, yet another part of me misses California terribly. I spent my entire childhood in MN and my entire adulthood in CA. Be that, since being back in MN these past few weeks I've done more writing than I've done since my stroke in 2021. There's a comfort here that (in my broken brain) makes me feel "better". Healthier.
You look at this photo maybe and see an old train track and debris. But I see and feel so much more just being here. My existence (my being) is from here, was built here. Make sense? I probably could have written 10 books by now had I stayed.
Youth being wasted on the young.
APRIL19, FRIDAY
(2:05pm)
Went out yesterday to be social and the place I choose had A LINE. A line! I don't do lines. This is why I stopped going out to be social and only go to places I want to take pictures of.
A line. 🥸 What is this, Manhattan?
APRIL 18, THURSDAY
(1:31pm)
Watching Showgirls and putting on mascara. Don't know why really. I'm SO not interested in meeting anyone.
APRIL 17, WEDNESDAY
(12:17pm)
It's been raining past two days. April showers, and all that. I've been applying for work, knitting the last ball of yarn for the blue Linus blanket. I'm a few weeks behind schedule. Life stuff. The next blanket will be yellow.
If it doesn't rain I might hit a happy hour somewhere. I'll never meet a man if I never go out.
APRIL 16, TUESDAY
(9:30pm)
7.2K views.
Keep hating! Keep hating! No such thing as bad press! You do know everyone makes money per click.
Does this make me the Charlie Kirk of midwest landscapes? Oh dear.
I have phantom pain in the left side of my jaw. There's nothing there now to cause pain. All this excitement is causing phantom pain.
(7:11pm)
I have no idea what's going on to be honest. It went from 5.1K views this morning to 6.7K views now.
1.6K views in 10 hours? Crazy. I truly think every time someone leaves criticism comments, YouTube flies my short all over YouTube. It has to be. I'm not doing a dancing trend, or the extremely popular "atari fight" trend, it's literally just a bunch of photos of my walk in the woods.
Crazy. It's gotta slow down now, right? 🤯
(9:10am)
This morning YouTube congratulated me. The short I posted last Saturday hit 5.1K views. Every time someone leaves a comment (regardless of what) my short gets another 1K views. All I did was put a 30 second piece together of my walk in the woods. Well, AND added one of the most popular trending background sounds in the country right now. "Everyone wins! Ham sandwich!"
Remember wa-ay back when I blogged about the 13 graves of (St Thomas) MN? The kids on TikTok made their 2024 version of that horror story. In the 2024 version of that story the 12 nuns were raped by a priest who then murdered them all one night, and then killed himself. That's the 2024 version. But in 1984, there was an entirely different version of what happened to those nuns. Maybe I'll take a walk at St Thomas and check those gravestones myself since I'm back in the area.
APRIL 15, MONDAY
(8:07pm)
"If only I understood how creating content on social media and getting paid, works?"
😂
(3:39pm)
I'm writing an Op Ed for the American Stroke Association. I needed to divert my eyes from the screen for a minute so I took out the trash then checked my YouTube channel. It seems my last short is making the rounds. 2K views, a few new followers, a few likes, m'kay cool 👍🏻. AND THEN there are the weird comments from grown men asking me where the children are. 🧐🤨 Look, I'm doing my best not to assume why grown men would want to know where... the children... are. Um. 🤨 The background I use on my short was recommended to my by YouTube because it's a trending sound. You see boys and girls, and by boys and girls I mean the grown ass men who are asking to see... children... 🤨 ... Uh... You see, when you do something social media you use the sounds the social media platform suggests you use. OR you could simply read the description at the top of my page which describes why I have YouTube to begin with. But. Whatever. You do you. But please do you less fucking creepy. Learn how social media works and stop asking me where the children are you goddamn pedophi...
APRIL 14, SUNDAY
(2:40pm)
When you grow up in certain environments things related don't scare you, they don't affect you. For example, I grew up around tall cornfields. It doesn't scare me to walk through them alone at night. It doesn't scare me to walk in the woods alone. It might affect/scare others. Maybe you grew up on a dairy farm. Maybe it doesn't phase you seeing cows hooked up to milking machines. Whereas I absolutely hate seeing it. I think it's torture. Freaks me out. As you know I've been obsessed with these bald eagles in Big Bear, CA, Jackie & Shadow. And while I now know bald eagles do well in very cold temperatures, I was still emotionally affected when I saw mama eagle, Jackie, protect her eggs, via live cam, in horrible blizzard conditions. And I was equally affected when I learned her eggs weren't viable and yet night after night in sometimes awful weather for about a month past pip-date, mama eagle still sat on her eggs, hoping. Broke my heart. Seriously. Broke my goddamn heart. In recent days mama eagle, Jackie, a name given to her by a class of third graders, finally got tired of sitting on eggs she now realizes are not going to hatch. And a few evenings ago, on live cam, she ate her eggs. There were no baby birds, nothing. Just egg whites and yolk.
APRIL 13, SATURDAY
(8:04pm)
Woke up to horrible news that a fellow stroke survivor who befriended me on IG after my stroke three years ago, passed away yesterday due to complications from his stroke. He survived for five years.
Went for a long walk. A very long walk. Clear my head. Took a bunch of pictures. Made a YouTube thingy.
APRIL 11, THURSDAY
(2:50pm)
I'm in hell. Instead of getting another Chromebook, I instead got an HP laptop with windows 11. FUCKING WINDOWS. Who the fuck uses Windows?! But I want to finish my book says I, so for writing I got an HP laptop. Fuck this piece of shit laptop. It's always updating and deleting all my shit.
They tested weather sirens just now. Loud as fuck. And oh look, my computer is updating itself. Yesterday I got a Minneapolis p.o. box and five minutes later my stroked out brain lost the key. Just "lalala where's they box key?" No idea. $5 for a new key. In LA that key would be $25.
I've gone into 18 hours a day hot flashes & nausea. So that's fun 🫤 Yea menopause. I'm being reintroduced to 20-something honkey rednecks who are wa-ay different than 1980 honkey rednecks who just rode Harleys and listened to April Wine. Today's honkey rednecks are 280 pounds of facial hair, long shorts, and "yeeea boy get some" wanna-be Duck Dynasty.
My housemate does a lot of laundry. I hope she gets paid for it. I might throw in a load of laundry every 10-14 days if I can find my dirty clothes that is.
Anyway, time to full blast the ceiling fan. I feel a heat wave coming on.🥵
APRIL 10, WEDNESDAY
(12:06pm)
Humans are wretched things. How dare any vile human decide which animal lives and which animal dies. Nature sorts this kind of thing on their own. Man's filthy unnatural desire to play God is the most disgusting thing I have ever seen.
APRIL 8, MONDAY
(1:05pm)
Ain't nobody seeing the eclipse around here today I'm afraid.
APRIL 7, SUNDAY
(4:00pm)
Rainy wet day. The reward will come next month in May. April showers, and all.
I've been super warm lately. I have the windows open. 40 degrees out and I'm super warm. I've been very warm I think because of the thyroid medication. It's a synthetic thyroid hormone plus I'm menopausal. Additionally I think the heat might be on. Who knows.
I forgot how everything shuts down in MN by 6pm and on the weekends. Everything I want to do has to be done during the days. I think I found a non-profit nearby my next Airbnb I want to invest in, The Ronald McDonald House for children. They need cooks. I can make my own meals in their kitchen or make theirs. I just have to have the meals approved a week before serving. So that could be a thing I get into.
If I like this next house I'm going to I might just stay there a while. I have to admit, it's ten thousand times slower here than I remembered. For sure cats or a dog will be in my future.
APRIL 6, SATURDAY
(11:21am)
Ok welp, the homeowners of the Airbnb say nothing to worry about, so I'll worry about nothing.
I am looking forward to a change in location further investing the twin cities, and of course, I need to spend some time in my hometown alas visit a few graves. Not looking forward to that part. 🫤
(9:26AM)
Weird things a'foot at the Airbnb. I just took out my garbage and noted a strange stain in front of the door. It wasn't there when I got my delivery yesterday evening. And I haven't opened the front door until now. And the mat to the front door is gone. I think it's doggy-pee. I tried pouring water on the stain to see what lifted up with a paper towel but it came up kinda light yellow. I messaged my Airbnb hosts.
Last Thursday I had dinner with friends and when I got back to the Airbnb there was a white car with headlights on just sitting in front of the house. It was there for like an hour after I went inside. And the next day I saw the same white car just sitting in front of another house with it's headlights on a half block away. I thought I was being paranoid but now I'm not so sure.
APRIL 5, FRIDAY
(6:14pm)
"Give me your tired, your poor, Your huddled masses yearning to breathe free, The wretched refuse of your teeming shore. Send these, the homeless, tempest-tossed to me, I lift my lamp beside the golden door! You heard me, motherfuckers!"
(5:59pm)
Wow. Not only did I get almost everything exactly as I ordered - I received a courtesy call from the shopper at the store asking me if a smaller quantity item would be okay as they were out of the size I wanted. Wow. I'm... Just... Wow.
FIRST OF ALL
As you know, I worked in hospitality prior to my stroke. I'm a seasoned (burnt!) restaurant worker. Lastly, being a manager/cook/chef etc. contributed to my high blood pressure, hypertension, stomach problems, and eventual stroke. I get it. Buddy, you have no idea. I get it. Therefore, I tip well. However...
A small observation. A wee tiny small observation. While food and ordering food delivered is waaaay less expensive in MN than CA (a dozen eggs here are under $3), and while I don't want your thanks for my tips (totally not necessary) the people who DO show appreciation for my tips are non-white people. Why is that? I took three timely/lengthy 30 minute Uber trips in the the last 10 days, two white male drivers, one (I think) Somalian driver, each of them received $20 tips for like $25 rides... Example ...
But the only guy who politely sent a "thank you for your tip" text was the non-white guy. Like I said, thank you isn't necessary, but just out of sheer politeness it was the non-white guy who sent one anyway. All while listening to white men scream Trump-Trump-Trump! That fucking moron. Neither white guy sent a text.
And the kid from Uber Eats who courtesy called me regarding my order, who was super polite, an Asian-American kid. All while these old white male politicians are screaming blood about immigration.
Now, in CA, NV, etc, white male Uber drivers have sent me "thank you for your tip" texts for $5 tips for $10/five minute rides, so just how much did those two white male drivers here in MN want for tips? Or rather... just how much did they EXPECT to get, I wonder?
(5:00pm)
AND ANOTHER THING
Didja see the taxes and fees? $6. SIX DOLLARS. In LA those taxes and fees would be about $20.
(4:57pm)
Oh lord jesus, after the dumpster fire experience at Menards yesterday (scroll down), wish me luck!
(7:14am)
Next week I move from NE Minneapolis to just NE of Edina. What is that, south Minneapolis? It's a little more suburban, less urban, more marshes and places to hike. More wildlife. Plus, everyone I know lives on that side of the Mississippi in Edina, Hopkins, Eden Prairie, etc.
(7:04am)
It snowed last Tuesday morning. It's melted now but...
(7:01am)
In a text message to a friend regarding a group photo I text, "I look like a quarterback. 😄"
Nothing. No reply.
The next day I saw what I text and corrected it.
"Meant to say I look like a lumberjack. 😄"
Only this time I think my friend felt sorry for me. Please don't. You'll learn to translate my brain damaged text messages. That's what the 😄 emoji is for.
There's a game I play on my phone called June's Journey. It's a word/photo association picture game. I've been playing it for many years now. Being single in 2024, especially after a stroke, I don't have many conversations with people beyond three or four sentences at a time. It makes writing difficult but now more than ever I want to finish my book. It's in part conversations with people I wish I had.
I have a blog about being back in MN now. Ever seen (film) The Judge? It's amazing. And it's got so many of the same feels I experience every time I come back here.
Anyway, until I get that blog put together here's a photo I took of the bougie north loop/archway area next to the Mississippi.
(3:58pm)
Okay, this makes the Menards bullshit all better.
(2:26pm)
Holy shit. I just got back from Menards. It's the MN version of Walmart only slightly more maddening. Last week in my Airbnb while pulling up the horizontal blinds in the dormer window the blinds fell out of their brackets. Fuck. I put the blinds back in the brackets and continued opening the blinds again, and once again the blinds fell out of their brackets only this time the end of one of the (horizontal) slats broke. Fuck, again. I told my Airbnb hosts about it, profusely apologized and assured them I would replace the blind. They responded it was okay, the blinds are old, and told me not to worry about it, but I'm not a dick. So I took photos and (crude yarn string) measurements of the blinds and went off to Menards.
This particular Menards has two buildings. I walked into the bigger building of the two and the girl working the door was really nice and tape measured out my yarn pieces. However the window shades were in the smaller building next door. "I'm sorry" the young gal said grimacing. Oh it's okay, I replied. I don't mind walking next door. I thanked her for her help and took off to the smaller building... Where I encountered three of the most overpaid humans on the face of the planet.
Long story short, after looking at the blinds in the store, I realized I measured the slats in the blinds, and quickly learned that's not how you measure blinds - because the top bar holding the blinds (that go into the brackets) is longer than the actual blinds. Fuck.
I then get to the windows and blinds "help desk" explain my fuck-up and ask - generally speaking how much longer is the top bar of the blinds from the blind slats? An inch? 1/2 an inch?
The three nitwits huddled together and eventually come up with "About half an inch. What did you measure the slats at?" I replied 27 inches. "So 27 and a 1/2 inches" they reason. Huh. Okay. Thanks. I go back to the blinds isle and of the hundreds of blinds in stock NONE OF THEM measure at a half inch. It's 27 inches, 34 inches, or whatever even number. NONE OF THE HUNDREDS OF BLINDS measure at a half inch. Whatever the fuck you people, all three of you, are getting paid it's too much. Holy shit.
So I ended up getting my Airbnb hosts a $50 gift card. The most expensive blind there was $42. I rounded up. Praying: For the love of God do not talk to anyone there! Just get what you need and go.
Next time, Home-fucking-Depot.
Bring on the automated robots. I'm ready. I get now why the first gal who helped me felt sorry for me. I had to go into the Beavis and Butthead building to get window blinds.