Merry Fooking Christmas...

So, it's Christmas again. It's been tough this last year. Nothing is really resolved, nothing majorly interesting is happening, or happened. I've just been trying to ignore the impending depression that always sets in during these times.

Work has been playing Christmas tunes over the intercom since November 12th, and people around me are all happy and cheerful concerning Christmas. They tell me of their family get-togethers, presents they got for children or grandchildren. And I kind of want to beat them for it. Well, not really. On a good day, I enjoy hearing about this stuff. I guess I'm just jealous. I want to feel that..."thing" that they feel. I have no one keeping me warm at night, no family gatherings to go to, no tree, no presents. Some of that is deliberate, some not. I just want to pretend that it's simply another day, in a long (or short) line of more days unravelling to the future.

I've been trying to focus on what I DO have. I have peace and quiet, some music I like, food in my fridge, and a roof over my head. I also gots me internet, otherwise I'd be doing this as smoke signals or something. Heh.

I just wish I had something important to do, or look forward to. I feel lost. I work, come home, eat, sleep, poop. Lather, rinse, repeat. I kill time by watching movies, and occasionally playing games and surfing the 'net. I try to connect to the world, but it just feels like a weird, alien place. I feel almost like I'm waiting for something. I've got to stop that. Sitting here on my ass is getting tedious, and nets me nothing.

When this new year starts, I think I'm going to be quitting this shit. This isn't living. I'll be moving soon, and from there, maybe I can make a new start.

Movin' on up...to the east si-ide!

Well, in an unusual turn of events (as in, some "good luck"), I got invited to move into a penthouse apartment, along with some friends. Given that in the 6-months I had an erstwhile (and semi-deadbeat) roomie/girlfriend, I didn't really get ahead financially as I'd hoped to. The cool thing is, the penthouse is already in the building I live in!!!

*squeals in girlish glee*

So me, a co-worker (and good friend), his wife, and another mutual friend, could all be living in this swanky (and very roomy) penthouse. And the best part is, my room there, is almost bigger than my whole apartment!! Actually, the better part is, split 4-ways, it's $320+ less rent than I pay now. And the patio is SWEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEET! Too bad it's winter.

Now I've got to do up the damned paperwork.

"Oh, Lord...I'm Still Alive..."

Yes, that's a Pearl Jam song reference, deal with it.

Hello, my long-neglected blog. Oh, how I missed you!

*spends several minutes just nuzzling the blog affectionately*

Ahhhhh. Much better.

Some might wonder why I've been away for so long. The answer to that question is simple. I got caught up in a relationship. I met me a girl, she seemed good (and was good) for a brief period of time. We went out for about 2 months, and I foolishly brought her into my sanctum sanctorum, my fancy way of saying "my apartment" and also "my life". I won't delve into the details as to why I did this, save to say that it was a combination of "poor judgement" and "it-seemed-like-the-right-thing-to-do-at-the-time". From there on out, 4-ish months, it was like living with a psychotic, issue-ridden, guilt-powered, cyborg sent back from the future to destroy John Connor. And by "John Connor" I mean "me".

And she was crazy, too. Never have I seen someone so full of issues that they literally went batshit insane whenever you brushed the raw, exposed nerves left unhealed from the years of...er...being her, I guess. She could literally go from saying "I was the best thing that ever happened to her", one minute, and begin hurling obscenities at me, the next. It got to a point where there was nothing I could do or say that wouldn't set her off, so I simply stopped doing anything at all concerning her. Which, ironically, set her off some more. I should probably mention that throughout all this, she maintains that I was abusing her! She also wrote about it on Facebook, and told her friends about it. That dog won't hunt, monsignor!!

For the record, I'd like to state that I have never hit a woman (or a man, for that matter), nor do I come from the school of he/she-who-yells-loudest-wins-the-argument. Hell, When I get mad, I go quiet. But there was no abuse whatsoever going on. But it's nice that she told a bunch of people I don't know alllll about it. Never mind that it's from her extremely-flawed perspective.

Thankfully, she decided to go live with her sister (who is also an annoying bitch, in her own right), leaving me with the remainders of her stuff until she can pick it up. In the meantime, I've been enjoying a kind of bliss the likes of which I can't recall knowing. The absence of a super-crazy bitch.

I remember cracking open some terrible noname-style root beer from in the fridge after she left. She had taken all the food she'd recently purchased (for a change, she was kind of a deadbeat), including cases of pop from the fridge, but left the gross stuff for me. After she left, I remember cracking one of those open, taking a swig, and remarking at how much it tasted like freedom. Well, if "freedom" was a shitty-tasting imitation root beer. But I digress...

All-in-all, I have to admit that it's been very satisfying to not have her around. Much of why I neglected this l'il blog for so long, was because I was wrapped up in taking care of her extra-needy ass. Not to mention that I don't like the idea of her being able to read shit over my shoulder. Simply put, for what she offered, what she required from me was much, much more. I think I'll refer to it as relationship economics.

My next relationship co-conspirator must meet the following criteria:

#1: Have a job. And be able to pay their own bills, and buy their own junk.

#2: Not Be Crazy. Will not abuse the shit out me for issues and baggage that pre-date me and our potential relationship.

I am a bit bummed, though. I miss her cat. He was a cute, agreeable l'il rascal. Not unlike Puss In Boots from Shrek 2. Maybe I should've started dating him. He was way saner.

Ramble-rant over.

Cuckoo for Cocoa Puffs?

I just re-read the post I made last night.

Yeah, I don't sound crazy at all.

*rolls eyes*

Fear and Loathing in Las V...erm...Edmonton?

Today's topic is fear, with a heaping side-order of self-loathing. And in no small way I'm a pretty frightened individual. I've been waiting for some kind of word from the doctor I saw last week. So far, no response. I know that lab tests take around a week or so to be processed, but I'm literally climbing the walls in agitation. Patience is not my strong suit.

Erm, back on topic. I'm not fearful about the test results, I'm pretty positive that they'll be ridiculously normal. I'm fearful about my future. Hell, I'm fearful for my present. As the time has passed since my psychological hiccup, I'm starting to remember things. I've been lying awake and alone in my apartment, psychoanalyzing myself. I'm starting to remember hate, and hate of myself in particular. I feel saturated with it. It taints everything, every perception, every other emotion. I feel as if I'm slipping away, with waves of it crashing over me. Why do I hate myself? I'm not completely sure. But I have ideas about it, sensations. I hate the way I look. At times I can barely gaze at myself in the mirror. Sometimes, when I can bear it, I look at myself and sometimes I catch a glimmer of myself beneath the flesh. I almost feel tempted to find something sharp and cut away the things that hide me underneath. But I don't. At least not yet. I remember this feeling well. The feeling of being buried alive, inside myself. It's haunted me since I was at least 16. And now it's back. And I keep trying to find some kind of help, but all I find are dead ends. This will kill me, if I can't get help soon. I'm very afraid and very angry.

This week in review...

I've been pretty busy this last week. I totally forgot to mention that last Saturday, I had the most awesomest Easter dinner I have ever had. It was so awesome that anything I've eaten since then gets compared to that day, and doesn't measure up. Really. I'm eating good food now, and at best, I feel "meh" about it.

Also within the last few days, I've been clamoring to re-acquire my Alberta Health Care.

It only took 2 back-to-back days (after work) of trying to find the damn registry office, wandering downtown like a super-retarded GPS, and getting hit up for spare change or cigarettes by a plethora of hobos. It turns out that the weird address I was trying to find was in the bloody Edmonton City Centre mall! A place I went to get my picture I.D. a year-or-two ago. I felt seriously retarded while waiting my turn in line. I even think I smacked my head as I saw the poster on the wall encouraging re-registration for AHC. It literally took 2 minutes for the very animated clerk-lady to punch in my data and hook me back up with the joys of health care. And then I felt only slightly less retarded on the way home. I got some subs from Subway to celebrate my triumph. Yes, my life is very sad.

Finally feeling some momentum building, I decided to go see the doctor for some advice concerning the weird panic attacks I've been getting recently. After work today, I trundled off to the nearest medi-centre and ended up sitting for an hour right next to a mother and her spawn, who for sickies, seemed to have no problem being little hyper-active dildos. When I finally got to see a doctor, I tried to explain and elaborate on my weird mental state, but he seemed to focus mostly on the panic issues. I found myself unable to bring the topic back to the fact that they are but a symptom tied to a larger issue. An issue for which I'd like to seek psychiatric assessment. So what ended up happening was me getting sporked with needles, getting my heart checked with an EKG, and pissing in a test tube. All-in-all, a far cry from what I went there for in the first place. I can appreciate that the doctor wanted to be thorough, and check for a physiological cause. But I'm fairly certain that any tests done are going to come back pretty normal. Overall, I am very not amused.

I got more subs on the way home, but was much less triumphant about acquiring them. Probably because I think today kind of sucked ass. And by "kind of" I mean "really".

At least I have the next 3 days off, maybe something awesome will happen. Might have H over, and we'll scarf some Edo and watch movies.

Good Friday?

Had a fun day with H, the girl I went out-and-about with, yesterday. She was cute, funny, a bit weird, but quite engaging. It's nice to be around someone who isn't just a plank of wood in terms of personality. I think I now understand what witty repartee means. It's like verbal fencing, or perhaps verbal chess. You make a move, and there's a counter-move. Give-and-take during conversation. It's been a good, long while since I've experienced this. I'd like to hang out with her again, but like with most women, I can't really tell if she likes me in that kind of way. My guess is "no", but we'll see. I did confide in her the weird mental things I've been dealing with lately, and she seemed pretty open and understanding about it. She even gave some good suggestions. At the end of the evening, she was back here in my apartment, being introduced to Rock Band (which was at her request, not mine).

As for today, I'm feeling kind of sick. Not physically, mind you, just sort of...out of synch. I've been pacing my apartment, and coping with the feeling like I need to be moving somehow. Kind of like every minute spent not doing something is driving me batty. Like things can't be moving fast enough. I guess I'm annoyed that I have to wait until next week to hit the registry offices (to re-apply for the card), and then wait 2 weeks to get the AHC card. Just to seek some psychiatric aid.

A Good Friday, my ass.

Bleh.

Out-and-about

I have the day off today. And I have someone to spend it with, too. A girl I met online, moons ago, suddenly came back into my so-called life. We've been chatting for about a week, off and on, and eventually made plans to hang out. So hang out we shall. I have no clue what I'm going to be doing over the course of the day, but I hope it's fun.

I would like to know why the Hell I'm awake at 7:30 AM on a day off, though. Ever since I had that funky "mental hiccup", awhile back, I've been waking up at the crack of dawn. I've never been much of a morning person, but it looks like there might be some evidence to back up the idea that I'm not quite myself anymore.

On the psychiatric front, I'm re-applying for Alberta Health Care this week (probably tomorrow), so I can ease myself into some kind of official therapy. I haven't had functioning health care for at least a decade. Hopefully there won't be any unexpected fees, or leftovers from the old defunct account.

What's going on(?)

I'm pretty pleased with the slick name of this particular entry. And though I can't say I know exactly what a double-entendre is, it's got to be darned close.

Where to begin? I guess I should mention what jump-started this blog. Recently, I had some kind of attack. Not a literal attack (like, by ninjas, or pirates, etc.), but an attack very similar to the 3AM, no ninjas, possible date entry, I posted earlier. I literally "woke up" in the sense that it felt like I was just born (or perhaps re-born).

Over the last few weeks I've been exploring the feeling, which has in no way diminished. To explain it simply, it feels kind of like someone changed the prescription of my glasses, only it affects everything. Not just my vision, but my perceptions. The world feels different, every aspect of it. Things seem both familiar, yet new (and sometimes strange). You have to understand that everything leading up to this point had no substance. My old self was ambivalent and apathetic. And to be him was torture, as he felt nothing. As him, I could actually feel the lack of functionality. Like a partially burned-out circuit. The juice just wasn't flowing. I'd liken it to being alone in a huge movie theater, sitting in the back row, watching the movie of your life play out on-screen and not be able to affect it. Now, I feel awake and aware. All the gears are turning. The things that vexed, or frustrated me, seem to have so much less weight. I feel things, and about everything. Long story short, I feel GREAT. But I also feel wrong. Yes, wrong.

Perhaps "wrong" isn't the right word. But for all the greatness of my recent experiences, I feel weird. A not-myself kind of weird. Which raises some issues. Issues that I'm now in the process of seeking psychiatric help with. Oddly enough, I sort of feel like I'm wearing someone else. That in some ways I am me, more me than I've ever been. But also very not me.

Yeah, this attempt at explanation isn't going too well. I think I might need a part 2, 3, or (God forbid) a Part 4.

NetFile is lame. Or too cool to do my taxes. I'm not sure which.

I basically passed out as soon as I got home, yesterday. Woke up at 1AM this morning, and have been up since then, thinking. Trying to plan ahead for some kind of amorphous future. That, and pissing around on YouTube and listening to music on my 'puter. Sang some, too. I bet that annoyed the neighbors.

Yesterday's shift was excrutiating. Having to carry a co-worker who can not only not do their job well, but moves at less than the speed of smell. Even with some of the front-end people helping me do my job, while I helped my tool of a co-worker, I still ended up staying 30 minutes past the end of my shift. I don't mind working hard, but being brought down by the retard antics of someone else is really, really frustrating. I basically spent the whole shift gritting my teeth and resisting the urge to strangle him. Ultimately, though, I chalk up my irritation with having been up for most of the night before.

No sleep make Homer go something-something.

"Go crazy?"

Don't mind if I do!

Yeah. Anyways, the icing on the cake of that particular day was going to see if that April Fool Girl got my messages on POF (note the lack of link to that shit site). The bitch deleted her account. So not only did she not call me, she deleted her account to avoid dealing with me. How lame. I hope someone rapes her with a broken bottle. Okay, I don't really mean that. Mostly.

Since I've been up, stewing in the residue of my own irritation, I was struck by a moment of pseudo-ambition to do my taxes online. I blame the box of QuickTax (also note the lack of linkage to this program) that's been sitting on my desk for the last week.

*shakes fist at the evil QuickTax box*

Spent an hour fiddling with the program, which was relatively easy to use. The real fun came when the program then hands off to NetFile, to tranfer the actual files through to the appropriate channels. And it couldn't. Apparently, there's some kind of code that should be on my T4 slip, but isn't. A magical code that is required by NetFile. Not only that, I apparently have to confirm my identity by writing what is in box 150 on my 2007 tax return, which I don't even have, much less remember doing. I probably went to H&R Block that year. So now I have to drag my ass out this week and get my taxes done, because NetFile is useless without certain kinds of information.

Note to self: Either keep better records, or don't buy QuickTax-type shit.

*sigh*

A late April fool...?

It looks like it was a joke. On me, as usual. She didn't call, and we didn't go out. In all honesty, I can't say I'm particularly surprised. This sort of thing happens to me 99% of the time. Still, it's disappointing to be stood up. She could have at least phoned me to tell me that something came up. Like, maybe she had to go save the world or something. I really don't like that kind of inconsiderate behavior. To some people time is money, though not necessarily in my case. I do value my time (and that of others) very highly. After all, since you or I could very well drop dead tomorrow, wouldn't that make whatever time we set aside for someone extremely valuable?

Hmph!

At least I had the sense to listen to my body's urge to nap, after all, I was up since 3AM, and worked the day. I simply curled up with my phone and snoozed, figuring that if she did call, I'd be able to grab it. Unfortunately, I just got woken up by some jackasses who were hitting my apartment buzzer. Oh, well. At least I had a good power-nap.

Bleh.

3 AM, no ninjas, possible date

Argh! I woke up at 3 Am this morning (and I had to get up for work at 7, bleh). Not just woke up, woke up. I literally sprang awake, ready to kung-fu fight me some ninjas. I'm talking woke up standing, ready to kick so much ass that Chuck Norris would feel a great disturbance in the Force. And let me tell you, I was very disappointed that there weren't any ninjas to be had. Very disappointed, indeed. I ended up staying up, getting ready, and then stumbling off to work to do the work-thing.

I have/had a profile on a dating website called Plenty of Fish, and my dealings on that site were less than stellar. Out of frustration I eventually deleted the profile text, and replaced it with an expertly-written diatribe (as only I can do) about how women suck. And not the kind of sucking, most guys (or some girls, for that matter) want. I also included a synopsis on how sites like that are basically chock-full of social sub-retards who should probably be put to sleep for the sake of humanity, or at least my own amusement and well-being. Just thinking about it makes Hulk mad and want to smash puny humans. But I digress.

Just a few days ago, I got a strange message from my POF account. The mysterious message was from a rather foxy and quirky woman, who was apparently amused by my derisive profile entry and wanted to meet me and go out. I've replied to the message, and another she sent me. Now, she has the dubious honor of having my phone number, and I wonder if I'm participating in a seriously prolonged April Fool's joke. I totally hope not, 'cause that would suck.

*crosses fingers*

Go-go Gadjet BLOG!

Hmm. Just setting up my very first blog. Also just set up a YouTube account, too (for when I snag me a swanky camera). I've been feeling a bit weird these last few days, like some kind of invisible fire was suddenly lit under my ass. I've been agitated and twitchy. Not going into too much detail, but I've been extremely apathetic/complacent for the last few years, and left some life issues completely unattended or ignored. But no longer. It's time to set some things in motion that should've been going years ago. I guess you could say I was inspired, so now I need to build me up some momentum and start making some useful, positive changes in my life. Gah, what a lame first blog post!