wakko101's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- old maid ain't just a card game I often tell people that I am probably going be to single for the rest of my life. This attitude is part depressive personality, part "hope for the best, expect the worst" mentality and part pragmatism. I'm not ignorant, I know it sounds like a simple case of low self-esteem (which I don't deny I'm a victim of), but I'm tired of the scene that plays out every time the issue comes up. Whenever someone hears this, their inevitable reaction is to uplift me with some tale of an ugly/fat/bad personality "friend" of theirs who never thought it would happen to them but is happily getting married next month/last year/eventually. Now, let's put aside the warm fuzzies I get from being likened to the lowest common denominator of humankind, I'm fed up with everyone's assumption that it will "just happen" when I'm least expecting it. Why is this true? What fundamental law of science or philosophy or attraction says that every person will meet and match up with their soul mate? Life is not a movie, True Love as experienced by characters played by Meg Ryan and Hugh Grant just doesn't happen. There are plenty of people out there for which it just hasn't happened and probably won't ever happen. There are old hags with lots of cats and 60 year old bachelors who chase after young girls in this world. These are the "friends" that no one ever mentions because they blow big bullet wholes in the "someone for everyone" theory. But I see these people. I know they exist. And one day I will be one of them. I may not have loads of cats or chase after 20 year old tail, but something not too distant from that scenario is out there in the ether for me. My belief in this theory is rooted in the psychological muck that is my psyche. I'm a fucked up individual, people, with too many issues about relationships/friendships/sex/trust/etc. to ever really be able to bond with someone. I know I need to seek professional help, an endeavour that I'm going to undertake very soon, but until then, trust me when I say... I AM going to single for the rest of my life. Bring on the cats. 2:52 a.m. - 2006-08-06 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- f(x)=alcoholic So, let's talk about my alcoholism. I would have to say that I'm definitely a functioning alcoholic. I don't let the booze affect my working life (as long as you don't count the occasional hangover and general fatigue...then it's a different story). Personally, I like to describe it as borderline alcoholism. It sounds more manageable that way (she types while polishing off the night's bottle of chardonnay). A few years back, I went to a psychologist for a couple of sessions. My dad set it up for me, because he thought that my major problem in life was that I didn't know what I wanted to be when I grow up. Little did he realize the depthes of my psychological chaos. The woman I saw was a psyghiatrist who also specialized in career counselling. I think, anyway, it was a while ago. In any event, I went and chatted with this woman twice. I wasn't entirely comfortable and we discussed various things, I don't remember a lot, because I didn't find it particularly helpful. I do remember two things quite distinctly, however. One being that her diagnosis of my problem was that I simply didn't have a direction in life, but I was, for all intense purposes, a fairly well adjusted person. It was this observation of hers that made me cancel my next appointment...if she couldn't see how fucked in the head I really was, then I what hope did she have of helping me? The second thing she observed was that I was a fairly anxious person, and that I tended to use alcohol to calm my nerves (oddly enough, despite my apparent "good mental health", she mentioned that she could prescribe me something to take the edge off. Yay drugs!). It's funny, I never really thought of myself as Anxious, per se, until she pointed it out to me. The thing is, she was right on the money. I am an anxious person...I worry a lot, I'm always expecting the worst of people, situations, etc. and consequently preparing to defend myself against attack. I'm not so good at relaxing or letting go. I am defintely an anxious person. And I do tend to get drunk to alleviate that anxiousness. I've just drank most of a bottle of wine and, I have to say, I'm feeling pretty good. Sometimes, drunkeness leads to depression, but most of the time, it sets my mind free. I have epiphanies, sort things out, enjoy whatever I'm doing a little bit more. My inhabitions definitely fly out the window when I've had a few, which isn't always a good thing, but it does allow me to have conversations with people that aren't about the weather. Driking takes my worry away...and that's why I find it hard to go a night without it, whether I'm alone or not. It gets a little scary at times...I've blacked out a few nights, and I've certainly gotten myself into situations that probably weren't exactly healthy. I've gone days without being sober when I go to bed. I worry sometimes that my liver is going to start protesting wildly. It's not necessarily a good situation. But it's not exaclty a horrible one, either. Like I said, I'm functioning, I get by. I'm not running myself into the poor house (in fact, the frequency with which I drink alone is probably saving my hundreds in bar tabs). I'm still able to maintain relationships (no boyfriends, though, but we can discuss the status and lack of my love life another time). My biggest health concern is being tired all the time, but I've always been a tired sort of person. It's my reaction to unpleasant situations in life, which I have a lot of. At the end of the day, my alcoholism is probably real, but it's not something that anyone else is going to recognize. There will be no interventions for me. I need to take responsibility for my life, I need to get help. And I will. Unfortunately, I'm also a chronic procrastinator, so it's not likely to happen any time soon. Cheers. 12:49 a.m. - 2006-08-04 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- writing pool Honestly... So many thoughts and opinions. So little time. The problem with wine is that it makes me epiphanous. I don't know that epiphanous is actually a word, but if it isn't, it should be. Because that's what I am. With wine, anyway. I used to keep journals when I was younger. But it always ended up being the same old tired, depressing crap every day. In 100 years, I would be ashamed for someone to come across them and think that it was an indication of teen angst at the time. I even wrote poetry. I shudder to think of it now... But, when I've got an audience, I've got shit to say. And, if I can toot my own horn for a moment, it's not always half bad. I've been clicking on the "random entry" button on my website, and I don't think I suck at this whole writing thing. I'm no shakespeare or even Dave Barry, but I manage to get my thoughts out there in a slightly entertaining manner. I'm better when I'm drunk, though, and that I know. Not blind, silly, falling down drunk, but that kind of drunk you get when you've had just enough to drink and the mind flows. Kind of like the Optimal Pool Playing Drunk. You know what I mean. I like to play pool, and I'm certainly no girly-girl when it comes down to it, but I'm not exaclty a shark, either. The best pool playing I ever do are in two situations. The first being at my folks' place, because their table is pretty pristine. The second is when I've had enough to drink that I don't really care if I sink the ball, but not enough to make my coordination a moot point. It's like that. Unfortunately, one side effect of drunkeness is sleepiness. And, being the old fart of 27 that I am, it tends to creep up on my sooner than I expect. Good night. =) 1:00 a.m. - 2006-08-03 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- shitty movie selections Thanks dullstar for the tip on Netflix. Unfortunately, being canadian, I'm not eligible. Your suggestion, however, did inspire me to join zip.ca, which is basically the same thing in Canada. But come on, She's the man? Really... I've already spent about three hours today adding movies to my "ziplist" so I can assure you it's been a productive day. Well, sort of...I only managed to find 32 movies in that time that I want to rent. What can I say, I'm picky. I will say, I am very excited to start recieving movies in the mail. The best part of it is that it solves a curious problem I've been experiencing lately with Blockbuster. It's the oddest phenomenom, but every time I go to my local blockbuster, within about 15 minutes of browsing the favorites section, I inevitably have to take a dump. Every time, no exception. The other day, I was about to leave for the BB when I decided that it might be a thought to try my luck on the loo before I go. Nothing. Not even an inkling. But sure enough, 10 minutes into looking at the drama section, I need to poo like you wouldn't believe. My brother had the same problem with Canadian Tire. Maybe it runs in the family. In any event, searching online will certainly make my life easier. Blockbuster doesn't have public washrooms, so I have, on more than one occasion while looking for my three favorites for $8.99, made my final selection of film a hasty one just to get home that much sooner. 12:35 a.m. - 2006-08-03 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- the philisophical dillemas of a nerd I watch a lot of movies. A week ago, I went into my local blockbuster and was informed by the cashier that in the past two months, I had rented 18 movies. Let's not dwell on what this implies about my social life, shall we? Let's just say that I don't have cable, and I like watching something when I get home from work, so I tend to rent a lot of movies. Thing is, whenever I plan on spending an evening han solo, I usually bring along a bottle of wine for the ride. Maybe a few bottles of beer from time to time, but I prefer the bubbly. It makes me feel more sophisticated. Anyhoo...the problem I experience is thus: am I enjoying the movie I'm watching because it's good, or because the wine is good? I'm not so sure. Take "Boondock Saints". I liked this movie. When it was done, I had a whole warm fuzzy feeling that I get when I see a movie that I thought interesting. However, as I usually do, when the film is done (and my wine is not) I tend to look up info about the movie online. This particular movie has quite the history, particularly when it comes to the director, who was, from what I understand, a talentless, egotistical hack. I thought about what I had read about the movie and it's director, and some of it rang true. Upon closer reflecting, there were certain aspects of the movie that didn't quite gel. It was fairly amaturish, not so much in the production value as in the realization, but still. I really liked the story, but, at the end of the day, had it been executed to a worhty degree? The problem that I am contending with at the moment is...did I like because I was drunk, or did I like it because it was different. I really don't know. I suppose the only way to determine this is to watch it again sober and make an enlightened opinion. Which then leads me to a completely different can of worms. But I'll discuss that later. I wouldn't want to overwhelm you. 4:05 p.m. - 2006-08-01 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Screw life insurance, how about some acting lessons! Random thought for the day: Day by day, I am becoming more and more convinced that there is some sort of talent agency out there that supplies bad actors to low-budget commercials. They must specialize because, considering the mind-boggling amount of talentless losers that you see on tv today, the demand for such a commodity must be astronomical. I understand that these poor, unknowing souls aren't exactly given pulitzer prize winning dialogue to work with. I mean, it's hard to breathe life into "It's Patrick. He got life insurance" without sounding a little wooden. But, come on, I'm afraid the lack of a strong script just can't explain away the utter....what's the word I'm looking for....SHIT acting that makes the airwaves these days. It honestly makes me shudder. [shudder] 4:54 p.m. - 2006-02-24 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Me bad at math? That's un-possible... You know, I'm not generally one to brag but, damnit, I'm smart. S-M-R-bloody-T! I recieved my marks for three quizzes that I completed for this (&#$*!$!!!) calculus course I'm trying desparately to finish. Each one is worth 10% of my final mark. I'm going to tell you now that those babies put a whopping 29.5% towards the whole shebang. I so rock. Which is good because, as is usually the case, this shit is getting harder by the minute and my confidence is waning. However, having done very well so far, and with a pretty good feeling about my midterm exam, I figure I only need to barely pass the final to get an overall decent mark. (This is assuming I do well on the last quiz and the "project" I've been assigned. Both of which I'm not too concerned about. The quiz doesn't look too bad and the project's a joke. When I asked my tutor about it, he suggested I get my material out of the book and, I quote, "change them by say, adding 7." Now there's a real evaluation of my mathmetical prowess, don't you think?) So, thanks to having a non-life for the month of February, and the under-achieving attitude of Athabasca U's teaching assistants, I think I'm gonna do pretty well overall. That and I'm smart. S-M-R-bloody-T! 10:52 p.m. - 2006-02-20 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- f(x) = save me.... Well, holy crap on a stick, has it really been more than three months since I last had anything interesting to say? Yeah, that sounds about right. To begin with, status update: I've moved back to Canada. Currenly staying with my parents but I can't even begin to explain how temporary that situation is. I love them, they're great, but I have tasted freedom and I liked it. Unfortunately, I have two hurdles to leap before my housing situation changes. One: must finish calculus course. Remeber about a year ago when I innocently said that I was taking a maths course by correspondence? Well, 11 months, two weeks later and I'm still at it. Problem is I only have until the end of February to finish it and I hadn't completed quite as much during the first 11 months as I had planned. Ever try to cram 5 months worth of limits, derivatives and intregals into your brain in the space of four weeks? It's not recommended. I have done virtually nothing but math for the past two weeks and the forecast isn't looking to change anytime soon. My life is, to say the least, not very exciting at the moment. Hurdle two: money. I'm basically broke and have no job. `Nuf said. On a brighter note, I'm in the process of trying to quit smoking. Two weeks and going strong. The patch is helping me not be a total horror to be around and the kitchen is stocked with munchie foods. So, to recap - stopped smoking, eating lots AND sitting on my ass all day doing math. I wonder if there's an equation that could compare the exponential growth of my waistline with respect to the deterioration of my sanity? You would think I'd know... And that's the long and short of it for the time being. I suspect I'll write again within the next three months. But don't hold your breath. 9:45 p.m. - 2006-02-12 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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