More Than This

Well, it took something specific to happen to me today, in order for me to realize that I should start preparing myself for the worst.

I'm speaking of what will happen after I give those tickets away.

There's a part of me that is keeping hope all squeezed up in a tight fist, and there is also another part, that is telling me to open my hands. And to let go.

Just in case.

The worst happens.

...The Blower's Daughter by Damien Rice is playing right now, and I'm in my office, taking a break from cleaning the bathrooms.

It's hard thinking of what to say in this post.

Just that I needed to.. write, and.. let myself be reminded and prepared against... the worst.

I still remember our last conversation. The hostility in her voice. Those dead eyes I saw in her the last time she was over, carried itself over and shook me as I struggled to find courage enough to say what needed to be said.

And, as you know Gina, I failed.

(sighs) I said I wasn't going to be writing about you anymore, but this one hit me hard. And this song that's playing right now, isn't helping matters.

Taking off my headphones.. looking out the office window and hearing the traffic go by.

I don't know what needs to be said here.

I have to prepare myself. Clearly, I have feelings for someone, for you, and you don't share them. And I don't know if you can reawaken them either. That's where my hope is placed. That maybe, there is still that chance of a spark that hasn't completely extinguished, that I can bring back to life.

Of course there is a chance of that. There always is a chance. Even if they are small, the possibility still exists, no matter how immeasurable the odds are.

I know for sure, that I will have to walk away once I give those tickets, and not look back. I can't keep hoping like this. Dreaming. Wishing. Praying.

Sometimes even, scheming.

So, I have to be prepared. That when I give you those tickets Gina, that you will be upset. That you will.. react strongly, and.. I don't know what. As imaginative as I can be, I can't... picture the worst that might happen.

But I will prepare myself as best as I can.

...I've been through much worse in life, and it's not.. any kind of fear that is motivating me to write all this.

It's.. sadness.. I guess. I know I can move on, I know I will be moving on, I know I can handle you not speaking to me again, or not consider giving me a second chance to make things right.

But.. I'm still going to keep my hand closed, and stop hope from escaping. At least until the end of September, when I plan on making my blog private again.

There's a part of me that is angry with myself, for believing.. well, wanting to believe that us getting back together is a possibility. Of course it is, but...

I don't know anymore.

I don't even want to publish this post. I'm already embarrassed by it. I might not even bother.. I don't know yet.

I think I'll save it as a draft. And maybe re-post it once I make my blog private again.

Yeah.. let's do that.

Or, not.

On a lighter note, check out this wind chime I picked up today for $12 at the flea market. Yes, I did use Jedi mind tricks to get it at that price.

Wish you could've been there with me.

\o/

My place is a zoo.

"We Come From Mud, On The Way To God." - Arigo

Found another one of my old poems, from 1997.

======================================

Where the mud lies, you found a jewel

and the remnants of an egg thus treated cruel

in a former time, where love was not so grand

and when I was just a speck in the sand

came forth you, resplendent in all your beauty

then the darkness lifted from my eyes, and I could see

that love alone is all we really need

that hate, suffering, pain and greed

could never exist if we all had love just like the leaves in the beak of a dove

can come peace, hope and the dawn of eternity

blessing all souls like waves from a great big sea.

======================================

I like it. It's prescient.

Woof

Tigre came by, and helped cheer me up.

But when he left, I felt like shit.

I want a dog.

I hate being single.

I hate having renters next to me who I can't figure out who the owners are, so I can build a fence in my backyard to at least hold a dog.

I don't feel like posting much today.

One Step Closer...

...to catching this wabbit.

I figured out what Roger has been eating around here. No, not that leafy weed I'm holding. But, plants! Dear God, plants! Uhm.. Sure, I suppose that makes sense. As I was walking along the side of my house this morning to get my garden hose, this gentleman was chewing quite happily on a plant.

Hmm. I don't get it. I thought rabbits are supposed to be eating vegetables? But here's the proof, Roger munching on my neighbors weeds.

And geez, are those weeds or what? My neighbor hasn't cut his grass in like.. Two months it looks like.

Anyways... I'm feeling lazy and uninspired as far as writing a blog entry goes, but I'll try and throw a few things in here.

Had a family come by this morning to look at the Ford I'm selling, for the low, LOW price of $2,880. I did a pretty good job wording the ad, and have had a few bites here and there, but this was the first time someone actually came to look at it.

It was for a sixteen year old girl, and.. hmm. Seeing this family get out of their car and come towards me, it felt..

I'm trying to figure out the right words to describe this.. but it felt like love, really. The mom was cheery and sensitive; the dad was skeptical and investigated my car inside and out, and the daughter was shy, wore braces and had a beautiful smile as I made the ladies laugh while watching dad go over everything with a fine-toothed comb (cliche alert!).

It did feel like love. There was something I felt briefly in the presence of, and this family made me think of how much I would enjoy being in the same dynamic as they were. I could see myself being the skeptical dad kicking at the tires, while my wife made conversation and my daughter (or son) is there with his hands in his pocket, being shy.

Pretty cheesy of me to be describing such a trivial event like this, and to attach some kind of profound realization, but.. hmph. I'm the type of person who is aware of stuff like this. I can sense things, sometimes. And it's not even sensing, really.. but more like reading.. reading into people and being able to figure out what makes them tick. I'm not always successful, and my poor track record with women speaks for that, but I can make sharp observations whenever something simple presents itself.

Anyways, they didn't buy the car, and I told them I appreciated their interest and wished them luck in finding something for the daughter. It was a nice 20 minute conversation with the ladies, telling them about my first car (a $500 Ford Tempo) and swapping stories, jokes, etc.

Later on, I figured I needed a birdhouse to attach to my tree, and possibly some wind chimes to spruce up the front entrance of the house. So, I headed over to Greenland, which is a massive greenhouse-ery place. Didn't see anything I liked, except for this:

A disgustingly cute little cat, who was waiting for me by my Jeep as I was about to leave. I really, REALLY wished I could have taken him home, put a bottle in his mouth and cradle him in my arms as I make cooing sounds. It was a really cute cat, who had this Ying-Yang sort of look with half his face a Tabby sort of color, and the other half black.

Petted him for a few minutes and made sure not to run him over as I reversed on the way out.

Mm, and later in the day, I was supposed to be meeting with this girl here, named Stephanie:

Hmm. That's not her, but it's a funny picture right? I'm too lazy to go through the motions of taking a screenshot. That picture will have to do. For now.

So, yeah.. Stephanie was supposed to come to the Fort (for the first time ever), and I suggested we could do the Downtown Diner and then give her a tour of some of the stuff around here. She said she was excited and couldn't wait to see me, and at around 530, I started getting myself ready.

Then she texts and says she's chickening out.

I was curious, I mean.. why? Seems like she was nervous. REALLY nervous. Which was odd, since talking on the phone with her earlier on, didn't seem to indicate anything was wrong. Plus, she swore like a sailor, dropping F-bombs in all of her sentences. Hrmph. There was some revealing photos of herself she sent me, and...

Eh, it doesn't matter. She said she was nervous and wasn't going to come. Upon further questioning, I began to figure out what she was so concerned about.

Apparently, I'm too handsome and smart and kind, and whatever.

Yeah. Me, this big dork, with the big nose, and a bit of a speech impediment, is TOO handsome and good for her.

Looking at her photos, she's really kind of attractive. Blond, green eyes, long hair, nice curvy figure. But she thinks she's "fat" and that I'm going to "run away" when I see her.

I tried everything to put her at ease. Made every suggestion I could think of, nothing worked. The last message I got from her was, "I'm hiding under the covers!" and there was these four scared looking emoticon faces following it.

At first, I thought her nervousness was just an act, and so was that statement about how handsome I apparently was. So, I didn't believe her. But the more I pressed on, the more it seemed like she was telling me the truth.

I don't get it. I AM NOT some kind of heartthrob. I play video games for fucks sake. I have teddy bears in my office. There's a rubber duck in my bathtub. I spent forty dollars on an E.T. figurine at the flea market. If anything, I'm worse than a dork. I'm a geek. A dorky geek.

But, whatever. I texted her advice on.. eh, it doesn't matter. Date didn't happen. And I don't know if it ever will. She's not writing me back and I think she fell asleep while under those covers.

Anyways, not much of a blog post today. I'd rather not be discussing my day-to-day life all the time, and I really should go back to doing essays on topics that I'm interested in. But I haven't had a whole lot of time to really think and ponder the big philosophical questions that I usually busy myself with. I've been pretty busy doing stuff around the house, hanging out with Justin or with my mom, doing shopping, writing blog entries, cooking, cleaning, etc. etc.

And yeah, that too.

Thinking about.

Yep.

Yeah.

New day, same old thoughts.

Oh Well.

Now that I have decided to include this blog along with the tickets I plan to send to Gina, I'm conscious of my posts on here. I went back to look at some of the earlier ones, and I can't help but imagine what effect reading those entries are going to have on her.

I was reading the one about Amy, when it struck me that I'm going to end up being pitied. My chances of us getting back together is going to shrink, with every post Gina will read. But only if she does.. and I'm not sure if she will. Even if I send her the link.

I hope Gina realizes that most of the entries I've written about in the past seven years, have all been a cheap form of therapy for myself. Whenever something negative happens, or whenever I need to vent, or work out a thought or feeling, I usually turn to the blog. I have not written much, if anything, about the positive stuff that has happened to me over the years. I hope she understands that as much as I am revealing of myself to her on here, it is still not the complete picture of who I am and what I have to offer her.

And.. (sighs).. Like I said, I feel with every keystroke, my chances are getting slimmer and slimmer.

I don't think she can respect me after reading all this. I think she's going to consider me as a freak. Someone overly sensitive, easily hurt, weak-willed, pathetic..

Not someone she would want to devote her life to being with.

And I think about what it would be like if we got together.. and I actually just remembered what caused me to break down in dry sobs last night. It wasn't her in the doorframe that did it, but it was me imagining us back together. Our first meeting since the breakup.

It was us, sitting on a park bench, me slouching with my eyes at my feet, completely and totally at her mercy. Telling her... (sighs) .. I don't really want to revisit this memory..

I guess I won't. If we do get back together, I think.. I think it could play out the way I imagined it. I don't know.. And I don't want to spoil it either, by writing about it.

Now that I know that she may eventually be reading these words. In a few more weeks, I've decided. The week before Dolly performs.

Such a long time away.

I'm also very conscious of how much I talked about Gina on here, and how raw some of the feelings I've been expressing have been. I'm going to try and stop that, from now on. Partly because I need to.. I should focus my attentions elsewhere. I'm probably still going to have moments like I've already written about, and I'm definitely still going to be thinking of her each day, but I'm not going to write about her. At least, I'm going to try and limit myself from doing so.

I know that once she gets past reading this post, she's going to see how my dating has been going and what I have been up to. She's going to see the pains I've suffered in the past, and how they have haunted me to this day. She's going to read those early posts of mine, and see how immature and dumb I once was.

She's.. Well.. (sighs) .. I don't know where I'm going with this post.

I can't really pretend that I'm writing to myself now, that I've made this decision. If she's going to read my posts, I'm going to be writing new ones with the thought of her in mind. The only person I've allowed to read my blog, in over seven years.. I think.

It's a big deal for me. But.. I'm afraid to wonder about what she will think. I don't think it...

I don't know.

My life.. is.. it feels.. like its out of my hands.. in a way. I'm not going to attach myself to a specific outcome. If she never reads this blog, or if she tells me off and doesn't use those tickets and I never see her again.. or if she does read this blog, and is completely repulsed by me..

Then, I'm not going to .. well, I..

Shit.

I don't know what's going to happen. I really don't. I don't even know what I *want* to have happen.

I know that I still love you, Carolyn. And I know that these are only words on a screen that you are reading from.

But that's all I can offer you right now.

I'm sorry baby doll.

I really miss you.

And these .. this.. these tickets and this blog...

Is all I have left .. no. Well..

Yes. These tickets and this blog is all I have left to win you back with.

It won't be easy if we do get back together, Gina, it's going to be a little awkward at first as we start again from square one.

But, I think it will be worth it.

I know it will be worth it.

I'm pretty much your man, baby doll. I'm sorry I took you for granted. I'm sorry you thought it was just infatuation between us.

But..

(sighs)

Again, I'm not going to hold my breath. I have already decided what I want.

And now.

It's your turn.

I Miss You

Last night, something unexpected happened.

I cried.

Laying in bed, my mind started churning and thoughts turned towards.. well, her.

I pulled out my phone, and started looking at pictures.

And.. Though a few tears were coming down, I didn't fight them, I just.. kept looking.

Something happened, though, where I think it was when I looked towards my doorframe and imagined her standing there, dressed in black lingerie and looking at me with that smile of hers.

That's when I lost it. I could feel deep, shuddering sobs coming out of my chest. It didn't last for too long, fortunately, but I had to acknowledge what an idiot I am for not being able to keep myself in check.

I also felt a compulsion to look at some of our emails, I couldn't look at more than two, so here are a few excerpts from what we exchanged back together in May, two months after our relationship started.

You know, I'm not quite the person I want to be, when I'm with you. Not yet. I actually feel a bit out of sorts, I'm not usually hesitant or the quiet type (especially at work, or in public) and I'm struggling to try and break free of this weird feeling. I think I mentioned to you before how I sort of conform to specific personality types, and certain people bring out certain qualities in me. And with you, I'm not yet sure what's being brought out, only that I can feel my mask slipping a bit, and I'm going to have to try and get comfortable with our situation, because I'm not completely all the way there yet. No offense to you or anything, you're a terrific human being and I think that's really what it is. Terrific human beings have been in short supply for most of my life. Seeing one, much less dating one, makes me feel a little unsure about how I should behave around them :) I know how weird that must sound. Guess that's the baggage I bring along to all this.

I feel lucky to have met you too, Carolyn :)

and, an excerpt from hers:

I am wondering, by your comments about yourself, if you will be able to be comfortable enough with me to be able to be who you want to be. I hope so. Do you know what that is or what that looks like to you?  It seems like there is this hesitation while you feel out new territory and test the water, so to speak... Maybe I have that wrong, but it seems more like quiet observation and some uncertainty and hesitation.  Not that this is a bad thing, I hope you don't take it that way, just my observation of you. You give me these looks sometimes that say more than words and it's almost like you don't quite know what to do with me or wonder where I came from.  And as if you want to say more to me, but are unsure of how it will be perceived or how I will respond. That might sound silly, but it's how I feel. 

She was right. I was hesitant. I wasn't completely comfortable. She was too good, too.. unreal, that I couldn't.. I expected another Lauren, another Leah, Amy, Cassandra..  Girls who start off like this, all into me and promising me the world and doing nice things and smiles and giggles and sex and hugs and kisses and bright futures.

Until their mask slips, and I see them for what they really are. And were. And always shall be.

But, it ... hasn't really happened with her. I mean, she broke up through text and I didn't see that coming. I didn't see her giving up like that without at least us having a face to face conversation about it. But I think she just felt like I couldn't change. Or wouldn't change. And that she wouldn't want to be the one to ask me to change.

Though I have.

Tremendously.

I have decided at this point, that she is going to have to read my blog when I give her those tickets. I want her to understand who I actually am. That I was never full of shit in the early times of us being together. I meant every word I said. I am the same man she became "infatuated" with. 

That word.. ugh. Infatuation basically means, "I used to have strong feelings for you, but they were obviously wrong ones to have, and they're gone now."

Such a stab in the heart.

But, I can't fault her for anything except the lack of communicating her feelings to me about how things were going in our last month. It bothers me, a lot, to know that she spent years being with abusive and emotionally neglectful men, and yet, she could only barely make it to the six-month mark with me.

I have, and still do, feel like complete shit.

I must have really been an asshole, without realizing it.

It's a new day, morning right now, sun is coming through the windows and I just finished having a chi tea latte as I'm typing. Listening to 80s music. My phone is blinking blue, which means there's a text or message waiting for me to respond towards. Could be Justin, or one of the girls I've dated, or it could be Jennifer from eHarmony, a kindergarden teacher around my age who doesn't have children and sent me questions yesterday.

I don't know what's in store for me as I sit here. It's an uncertain future. But...

I'm not too scared of it.

And I think...

That's all I can ask for right now.

Off I go.

Worn

I'm tired. Somewhat sad, too.

It doesn't make much sense, but I had a great day and in the evening, I could feel this.. tiredness creep into me. Not the kind that you'd want to go to bed early over, but the sort that follows a tattered and worn heart.

I don't feel much like writing on this blog tonight, but I feel like I have to. This is what I was telling myself that I needed to do. To persevere when the going gets rough, and to push forward and through whatever is in my way.

Whenever I can. Like I said I would.

For total randomness, here is a picture.

I think I did a pretty good job of finding the right place to put the Mickey Mouse cap a co-worker bought for me years ago on his trip to Disneyland. Skeletor approves, as you can see.

Well.. (sighs) .. as I said, great day. Started off with a coffee and a trip to River City, where I had a fun conversation with the lady there for about 20 minutes. We covered Doctor Who, superpowers, time travel, the paparazzi and the trouble that fame brings. I'm kind of disappointed the lady is 3 months pregnant and married to a military guy. She was dorky in the most entertaining way I've seen in a girl yet.

After I left there, Justin shot me a text asking if I wanted to go for a swim. "That doesn't sound gay at all." I replied, and agreed to meet him at the new Clareview arena, which is absolutely gigantic.

Great time in there, we spent two hours chilling in the hot tub, doing a few laps, going down the waterside, enjoying the hot drops of water falling from the ceiling inside the sauna. Plus I got to see his butt while we were changing. Not that I care, just sayin'.

Lunch was at this Italian place called "Life" in Sherwood Park, and the waiter was this creepy young Italian guy with long curly hair. His over-attentiveness, and his, "hey, where you guys are from? what's that band from? (the arena band I had on my wrist from swimming) what's your name?" and as I was heading outside for a smoke, "hey man, need a lighter?" sheesh. I was so annoyed, that I tipped him 5% of my 30$ bill. So, like, a buck fifty. Wish I could reverse it somehow and have him paying us for the hassling he did. I'm sure he meant well, but a good waiter is attentive in the most discreet way possible. Maybe he thought we were cool, or something, I don't know. Or maybe he really wanted that huge tip I left him.

I had the Atlantic Salmon with Minestrone soup, Justin went with the lasagna and meatballs. Both were pretty good. Worth going again, we figured. Even if we have to put up with that waiter, who forgotten our names the last time we went and didn't seem to recognize us when I brought it up.

I checked out Bed, Bath & Beyond after and used my 20% off coupon on a cool handheld vacuum. Checking out the brand later on Amazon, I find that it was actually 80$ instead of a hundred, and was disappointed that my coupon basically matched that price, even though they do price matching in store.

And.. see, this is where things shifted on me. I don't think it was Bed, Bath & Beyond, but it was the drive home that had me feeling sad. Just sad, with no real rhyme or reason to it. I sat on my front porch for a bit, unpacking some of the things I got, read the manual for the vacuum, played with my phone for a bit, and..

And I realized how lonely I truly was.

I don't mean to elicit any sympathy with this post, though no one is reading it anyways, I just wanted to put it out there.

I am lonely. In the past, I used to kill this kind of feeling by watching a movie, reading a book, or playing a video game, but now that I haven't watched a movie since Fifth Element, and haven't really read a book in a while, and have no desire to fire up the Xbox; I'm just.. left to my own devices. I have no choice but to acknowledge the way I am feeling, and I also realize, it's very much necessary for me to do so. To give it that curt nod and say, "yep. I know."

A lot of people don't like to do that, I find. They do what I used to do, and distract themselves. Either by entertainment, socialization, drugs, sex, whatever they normally do to take their mind off such things.

Not me. I'm letting myself be swallowed up whole, and I'm happy to have the courage to be able to do so. Because I know that what I feel today, will not necessarily be what I will feel tomorrow. Or the next week. I know that being sad, is a part of human nature and I also know, that I have reasons good enough to merit these feelings.

I deserve to be sad, pretty much. I'm allowing it, because repression and distraction is only going to have it come back even stronger and more insistent, and I'm not interested in fighting that kind of battle within myself.

It's okay to be sad. Life isn't always going to be about puppy dogs sliding down rainbows in the sky, it's going to have its tough moments. Moments of pain, loneliness, heartache, despair, unrequited desire, self-loathing sometimes.. It's not ever easy being human in a world like this. Where the newspapers are all about the latest murder, corruption in politics, animal and child abuse, and all such things. Yes, they are a part of our reality, but the media nowadays.. it's so.. cynical and bleak, for the most part. And whatever that is positive and good out there, is oftentimes promoted and used as a way to generate money somehow. Basically, it becomes packaged and distributed. Take a funny or heartwarming commercial on TV for instance. I'll use the Heinz one, where a pack of Chihuahuas are bounding down a hill wearing hot dog costumes, running towards a group of people dressed up in condiment bottles. Ketchup, mustard, and so forth. I thought it was cute, I smiled. But damn it, it's marketing, it's just a way for a big corporation to promote their products. It's not authentic. It's not real. It's manufactured. Calculated and designed by a committee of people who's job it is to think of these kind of ideas.

I hate commercials that prey upon the emotions of those that are watching. Hate them with a passion. Or worse yet, they become so indulgent and pretentious that they don't even talk about the product itself. Brad Pitt selling perfume, and Matthew McCouganey (whatever, can't remember how to spell it) going around driving his.. sheesh, I don't even remember the type of car.. Mercedes? Oh, Lincoln I think.. And there's nothing in that commercial about why anyone should buy the car, just an overpaid actor drawling in his southern accent over how he "feels" while riding around. It's so dumb. So...

Ugh.

Everything is always about money. That's why I'm so hesitant about my novel. Because I genuinely want to write from a place of sincerity, of wanting to tell a good story. But this world.. this world is run off of money, and any product released out there, is going to be met with skepticism as far as authenticity goes. That includes my book. People are going to think I was motivated by money, more so than the urge to contribute something of value to this planet. At least those who are older, and have been affected by advertising, would think so. There's just too much of it out there. It's too easy to grow cynical and jaded because of it.

I wish it didn't have to be this way. I would love it if there was a world, where everyone had a guaranteed basic income, and are assured of having food, shelter, clothing and the necessities of life provided for them without the need of having money to pay for it. Then you will see art emerge. REAL art that doesn't put out its hand and expect some form of payment in exchange.

I feel so inarticulate tonight. My creativity just isn't with me right now. This post barely has anything funny or insightful. At least, I don't think.

But I do want to write all this regardless. This is me at a low point, and to only write whenever I'm "in the mood" is not a good thing to allow to happen. I need to push through those feelings. I need to find the confidence in myself to just turn the lights off outside, sigh, and accept that the "muse" isn't going to be showing up tonight and that I'm on my own. And that being on my own, with or without inspiration, is going to mean I'm writing anyways. No muse required. No matter how ugly and boring my writing gets.

I'm a good writer. Sometimes. But.. well, not tonight I guess. And that's okay.

I accept that.

It doesn't hurt me, like it used to.

I'm just going to write.

I am not going to surrender.

The highlight of my day, were the many smiles I saw on the faces of people in the pool.

I still believe in the goodness of humanity.

That is why I am still here.

That is why I write.

Why, hello Clarice

Da, da dahhhh! Date with Vanesa (one s) went well! Initially I arrived at the coffee shop about 20 minutes early, and she pulled up a few minutes after I did. Saw her grab a couple of bags and went inside. Way prettier than her pictures. She's quite smart, too.

And short. Like, five feet tall. Practically a Munchkin. I was teasing her through text about how "flingable" I found her to be. Heh.

Athletic. With a cute little four-year old girl. Works as a psychologist at the Max. Divorced two years. Only been out on six dates since February.

Hmm. Although *I* thought the date went well, I never know for sure until the after-date texts come in and so far, we've exchanged two. One that said, "it was so nice to finally meet you! :)" that brought a smile to my face. I answered with, "I hope I met your (high) expectations!" and a grinning emoticon right after that. Still waiting on her response, as we have this slow texting thing going on, and she's pretty busy.

We talked about a bunch of different things. I managed to crank out a few insights on psychology and what I observed from people, and learned a few things about what it's like working at a prison. Pretty fun date. Spent an hour and a half on the patio outside of Starbucks before she had to leave to pick up Parker (her daughter) from daycare.

I don't know. I know I'm not smitten, or deeply impressed by her, or anything really, I just know it was a good time and I was myself, so, that meant jokes and insightful banter. She smiled and laughed more than a few times to let me know I was keeping on track. The hug we exchanged at the end felt really nice, too. I could feel her melting in my arms like a warm chocolate bar left out in the sun.

Thing is though, she's the epitome of the Strong Empowered Independent Woman (SEIW) (TM) that I kind of have a little contempt for. Not because she is strong and empowered, but because society (media) has been cramming SEIWs down our throats through just about every medium, from movies to video games. I'm pretty well sick of it, and had that conversation with Vanesa as well, using Fifty Shades of Grey as a focal point for some of my opinions.

The reason why I said, "thing is.." is not because I'm intimidated by her, rather the opposite, I'm very much not. The "thing" is, is that she really doesn't seem to have much of a desire or a place for a man in her life. When I asked her what her expectations were as far as having a boyfriend goes, all she said was she wanted someone to go out and have fun with. Yeah, "fun" is quite the subjective word to be using, and it can mean anything from crashing into each other inside of bumper cars, or having hot monkey sex with her slim, athletic body pressed up against the wall as I lift her up and...

Wait, where was I? Oh. Huh. Women.

No, really. Where was I? haha... Oh yeah, she doesn't place much of a priority on finding a guy to fit in her life. And upon further conversation, I began thinking that she wouldn't be the sort to do anything like this:

Changing my avatar name in Exploding Kittens from "SHEEEIT" to "TIEEEHS", or this:

I call that, the "Carolyn Special". An apple, a knife and fork, flowers, and two gift cards. 

I wish I could use emoticons on this blog, because that picture/gesture deserved a laughing smiley face. I suppose typing, "fucking LOL", will have to suffice.

Going back to what I was saying, yeah, I don't think Vanesa is the sort to do things like that. She's an SEIW, meaning that I'm lucky to be getting an apple for breakfast, never mind a nicely decorated tray with gift cards on it. Just don't see stuff like that in her genetic makeup, and I'd really like to.

I'm not sure how goofing around with Vanesa would be. I teased and joked with her, and she laughed, but she didn't really reciprocate with teasing and joking on her own. I'm not even sure if she's capable of it.

I'd like that. I miss... that. I'd like to have it again. 

I'd like for her to come back.

But.. that's not the way the cookie is crumbling, I suppose.

Or has crumbled. I still need to give her those tickets, eventually, before I'm out of her life for good.

After that, I got myself one of those wood fired pizzas (no, I didn't learn my lesson) from Blaze, which is this new place that allows you to put unlimited toppings on your pizza for around ten bucks. 

It was good. Not drop-down foaming at the mouth awesome; but still pretty good. I assembled this all veggie pizza with not one, not two or even three– but four different types of cheeses. Mozzarella, parmesan, goat cheese and some other kind of mozzarella. Spinach, basil, olive oil, garlic, mushrooms. Pretty much what I thought the *perfect* veggie pizza would be.

Oh, and prior to the date, I had a great conversation with the lady working at River City Cigars when I went to buy my smokes this morning. She's three months pregnant, with a ring on her finger, but we had a fun discussion regarding one of our favourite vices. Smoking. 

Eh, not really sure how much of it I want to be writing about in this post, but our 15 minute chat inspired me to do a little research into whoever it is that is responsible for the regulation of tobacco in this province. Did you know they BANNED flavoured cigarettes/cigarillos in Alberta? That includes menthol. I mean, holy shit, I had no idea. I later was composing this letter in my head that I planned on sending to whoever is responsible for this sort of decision (including putting a ridiculously HUGE warning label on the pack itself) and I was going to detail, from a smoker's perspective, how badly this governing body has been fucking up in regards to getting people to quit smoking. Warning labels aren't going to do anything. Banning flavored cigarettes aren't going to do anything. REMOVING the nicotine content listing from cigarettes, is a completely bone-headed thing to do. So is making all cigarette packs all of one color (which eventually is going to happen). I started compiling a list of "suggestions" in my head about how best to reduce the population of smokers, and encouraging them to quit. I should know, I'm a smoker, dammit. I'd like to quit, but I also enjoy the nicotine off of it. So provide me with an all natural, additive-free tobacco alternative to get my nicotine fix AND enjoy the feel of stepping outside for a few minutes to puff one down in silent contemplation. You can start by promoting organic cigarettes, and by pumping more money into subsidizing products that aid in quitting. Not making things confusing for those who smoke, and making them out to feel like a bunch of retarded children who have no idea which way is up or down.

Also, Roger came by this morning, looking extra-mischevious. I actually didn't see him as I walked by the side of the house, and came within inches of stepping on him, before he bounded away a short distance to safety.

(CSI voice) "Enhance..."

Roger is one cute bunny I tells ya. If you look closely at the photo (or enlarge it via clicking) you can see that smile on his face. As if he's trying to tell me that he has it good, and that my life sucks.

Maybe he's right, maybe not. But we'll see Roger, (shakes fist) we'll see.

I still have a few years left in me to turn things around.

I hope.

Nobody ever knows these things.

Just Another Day... Ohhhh

Yesterday.. all my troubles seem so farrrrr awayyyy...

Yep, yep. Yesterday. Pretty eventful day, actually. First thing in the morning as I opened up my garden storage bench thing, I felt something squishy and looked inside.

This thing was.. uhm, not really looking at me since I couldn't see its head, but..

You be the judge. What the heck is that?

Anyways, took a photo, did some yard work, and went off with my mom for lunch at Chilis. Great place. The waiter earned himself a ten dollar tip. Really nice guy. Congratulated him on being able to retire early, and scored myself a chocolate chip cookie on a skillet with ice cream for desert.

It was a great start.

After all that was done, my impromptu trip to Jasper commenced. Took about four and a half hours to get there, good thing I had a few three-hour long podcasts on my phone to listen to.

Had to take a picture of this mountain here.

And fought off the strong urge to sculpt something similar out of a plate of mashed potatoes. That's Close Encounters, in case you didn't know.

Then, I saw this guy on the side of the road.

Coyote, right? I was tempted to open the door and give him a lift, but I didn't see a raised thumb, so.. (shrugs) plus, he might have been up to something sneaky. I've watched enough Looney Toons cartoons to know how coyotes can get.

As I pulled into town, I kind of chuckled to myself at all the NO VACANCY signs over the place. Why? Because I had an ace up my sleeve...

That's Tracy. She's from Nova Scotia, and works as a housekeeper in a cabin resort ten minutes from town. She was this random girl who messaged me a few days earlier on POF, and when I noticed she was in Jasper, I mentioned having thought about taking a trip there, to which she made the offer of giving me a place to stay overnight. I thought about it for all of six minutes, and told her I'd take her up on it.

So, we went to what was really the only reason why I'd want to go to Jasper in the first place. For the first time in six years.

Wood fired pizza courtesy of Jasper Pizza (TM). I got some modified monstrosity, where I took out the asparagus, replaced it with pepperoni and left the spinach and garlic.

It was.. okay. Nothing special. Until about twenty minutes later, where it felt like a curtain rod was traveling sideways through my intestines. Ugh! I don't get it. Am I just sensitive to gluten? Ot was it the meat? Whatever it was, I had to take frequent stops at park benches and openly groan out loud at passerby as if I was auditioning for the next Mummy movie.

Tracy and I wandered around town, checking out everything, and I was pretty disappointed at what has changed in the six years since I've last been here.

Pretty much nothing. All the prices were marked up higher than usual, and there was a ton of franchises there like Subway, A&W, Tim Horton's, KFC, Pizza Hut, etc.. There was a decent number of independent places, but man, why spoil a tourism area with businesses that already exist all over the world? What would be the appeal of going for a Chubby Chicken burger at A&W while on vacation? Isn't the point of going to new places, to experience something new? I noticed a lot of Asian tourists going around, and I'm pretty darn sure they're looking at these stores and not feeling enough of the "uniqueness" of being in one of the most beautiful parts of Alberta. Or even Canada. 

And the gift shops.. Bleh. Over-priced trinkets. Mostly Native American stuff that I find kind of boring to look at (except for the Tomahawks) and the rest were fridge magnets and hoodies that said "Jasper, Alberta" on them. I was really disappointed in the creativity of the merchants who choose to stock these particular items. I struggled to find anything worth buying, other than a fridge magnet with a bear getting kicked in the nuts. And I didn't even bother getting that.

We wandered around all night, and I got to hear Tracy talk about sports, the locals, the tourist attractions, life back home, her past relationships, etc. It was alright. She was a good conversationalist and I had an easy rapport going. Especially since she liked horror films, and we got to discussing Cabin in the Woods, It Follows and the VVitch. Heh.

At night, was when the uhm.. fun started. We go to her cabin, and I expected something completely different than what I saw.

All she had was a single, twin-sized mattress, in a room shared by another girl, in a cabin holding over ten people.

*THIS* is where she expected me to crash overnight? Hrmph. I'm no prima donna, and I had no intention of getting into a relationship with her, but she seemed to want me to sleep with her. On that small mattress.

So, I did. Well, I tried.. and..

(sighs) .. I wasn't happy about it. I mean.. she was, but I wasn't. And although she knew that I wasn't interested in her.. it didn't matter. She went down on me anyways.

Yep. Not that I couldn't have seen this from a mile away.

All I could think of while this was happening, was someone who's name rhymes with Argentina. There was a song, too, that played inside my head that I forgot the name of, but remember it was significant enough to be worth reporting on. Wish I could recall what it was.

I ended up sleeping in her roommate bed that night. I should put "sleeping" in quotes, because I wasn't able to. At 430 in the morning, as I could hear Tracy snoring, and some other guy upstairs snoring (thin walls), and doors being opened and closed, with her roommate coming inside at one point, and not having any pillows to sleep on, and ... there was change on the bed, and some kind of makeup bottle and.. I dunno, but somehow a Peppermint tea bag found its way into my pocket. Plus, the mattress smelled weird. As in borderline, gross, "did someone just ovulate over this?" kind of weird. 

It sucked. I... wasn't ashamed of myself, I suppose. I saw this coming. I treated Tracy well, and with respect, as I vowed to. I didn't give her any false hopes about us being in a relationship, and I made her laugh and helped her feel good about herself. She was down in the dumps, after breaking up with her boyfriend of six years. I don't think she even read my profile on POF, all she said was that she liked my eyes and this one photo of mine. Our conversation through text, was really lame. Luckily, it went much better in person.

I don't know. This experience taught me to stop meeting with strange women that I'm not attracted towards. But, I appreciated having her company, and she was really nice.. so, where's the harm, right? Plus I got a little extra something, so that was good. Not that I wanted to be getting it from her. But it's been two months since I last had sex, and so...

Whatever.

Tracy had to go to work at 9, so I was on my own. I left her a message thanking her for her company, and filled up with gas and left for home. Because I was so tired, I ended up taking short naps in various road stops over the day.

I planned on making a day out of being at Jasper, but after this experience.. and being so tired..

I didn't bother.

Even though I was seeing some really nice stuff.

Just couldn't get into it as much as I wanted to. Jasper felt like.. well, it felt like an overproduced movie is what it felt like. All these tourists. All these overpriced gift stores, and bad pizza, and young kids getting hammered and stumbling around the street. It didn't leave me with a good impression. Matter of fact, the best thing I saw there, was the sky. 

The stars. I could SEE them. As I constantly left Tracy's room to go outside for a smoke, I was hypnotized by how beautiful the sky was. Who cares about the mountain, or rainbows, or geeses.

The sky, man... that's the real shit right there. Excuse my Espanol.

Since I still have a few weeks left before going back to work, I'm going to consider checking out this one park about five hours away that a co-worker friend of mine was telling me about. He's in his late 50s and something of an amateur photographer and his thing is the sky, too. Plus he and I are equally as fascinated by shows like Ancient Aliens, and are pretty much on each other's wavelength.

On the way back, I had more fun than being in an over-populated tourist trap. I made a few detours. This place was one of them.

Water so clear, that you could drink it. And then die a terrible, agonizing death by way of some microbic lifeform that liquifies your innards and has you pooping out all of your organs, but I digress.

I had so much more fun here than being in Jasper. I only saw two people on that beach, and one of them was a well-endowed young woman in a black bikini catching tadpoles with her two year old son.

I brought science to these primitive waters...

And there was even a rhino, much to my surprise. I have no idea how he ended up here or why he was motionless. Maybe he washed up on shore all the way from Africa.

No complaints. Quiet. Warm weather. The sun beating down on my back as I stood in the water, feeling the waves lap at my knees. Tadpoles swimming around my feet.

And songs like, Just Another Day by Jon Secada playing on my headphones.

It was perfect. Blissful. 

Majestic.

And, it's funny, because it's so simple. Warm weather, solitude and water. That's it. That's all it took to make me forget about how tired I was, or how lonely I felt.

The world revealed itself to me, it felt like. Not through people, but through myself. Through the way it made me feel.

Alive. 

And still kicking.

Date with Vanesa tomorrow. The psychologist with the four year old daughter. 

We'll see how it goes.

But I have a feeling, it'll be just another day.

A Passing Glance

I had a decent day spent downtown. Went over to Burger Priest, walked around a while, saw a lot of good looking women on the street. Had a nice conversation with the owner of Wee Book Inn about books and the cat he had there. Uhm, you know... I don't really feel like writing a big post about everything I've done today. I have a few interesting things to discuss, and pictures to share, but..

Okay, I'll fess up.

I think on the way back home, I saw Gina drive by.

It was around 3pm, on Highway 21. She was going the opposite way, and when I saw her car to my left, I turned my head like usual, and noticed the brunette lady inside, turning to do the same.

We moved by too fast for me to really know for sure if it was her.

But I think it was. It was a red Nissan Rogue. It was the same car. And it was a woman. A brunette. And she turned her head as well...

Yeah.. so.. I don't much feel like discussing my day.

Seeing what I thought was Gina, for all of three seconds...

Well.

That's my highlight.

She turned her head, and it did look like her.

I'm such a loser.

ZzzZzzzz....

(sighs) I can't sleep. It's after midnight, and I'm laying in bed with a head full of thoughts.

I got up, went to have a smoke, and got back in. Still, those thoughts returned.

Tried again, still there.

So now I'm getting the message. Maybe I need to write them down so that I can unburden myself.

Here goes.

For some strange reason, the email I want to eventually write Gina, started coming to mind. I was dictating my feelings to her, and describing exactly everything that I want to say. I wanted it to be perfect, this perfect letter, but my mind kept jumping all over the place with different ideas and possible things to say; that it started to feel like torture, almost. This kind of circus, where something comes onto the stage, does its thing, and then the next act arrives.

So then my mind decided to move onto something else. I don't know why, but it started thinking about Cash. Gina's six-year old son.

I was imagining being in bed with Gina, at a time like now, when Cash barges into the room, just like she described it to me, by slamming open the door and waking us both up.

In my head, I'm imagining this scenario quite vividly. I bolt upright in bed, and I look at Cash with tired, surprised eyes. I look over at Gina, and she is about to get out of bed to take care of him.

Instead, I give her a look, and shake my head.

"I've got this." I tell her, and I lead Cash by the hand out of the room, and into the hallway.

"What's up little man, why are you waking us up so late?"

"I have to pee," Cash says.

"Then let's go pee." And I stand outside the bathroom as he finishes his business and leaves.

We go into his bedroom.

"Feeling better now?" I ask.

"Yes David."

"Cash, please stop waking your mom and I up when you have to pee. We need to sleep. And it's scary when you slam the door like that. Your mom and I love you, and we always want to see you, but not when we are sleeping. Understand?"

"Yes David."

And in my head, the conversation kind of goes on for a bit. It's me doing my fatherly voice, and my fatherly routine. I sit next to Cash, watching him fall asleep, and maybe stroking his hair a bit. He then falls asleep, and I turn off the lights and tip-toe out of the room. I get back under the covers, and Gina is still awake. I feel her legs brushing up against mine.

"How did it go?" she asks. And I tell her, and say that there's nothing to worry about and that she should go back to sleep. I give her a kiss, maybe squeeze her boob (or butt, both are equally as enticing) and then we wake up in the morning, at our usual times, and a new day begins.

I don't know why I'm thinking of this. But maybe, there's a part of me inside that wants to be prepared for these kind of scenarios involving children. And thinking of them like I am now, is giving me a rough idea of what it is I have to say and do when the moment arises.

I'm kind of a control freak, I admit. I like to know exactly when and where and all of the details, so that I have as few variables as possible, to have to worry about managing.

I don't like being in a corner, wondering what to do.

I know I'm well equipped to handle just about anything, as long as I can picture it with my imagination and play out the outcome. As if I was actually there. I also know that there's really nothing for me to worry about, when it comes to my control issues. I know that the best way to handle anything, is to trust my own judgement. And that's not always easy, given how it has failed me a few times in the past. But I have much better odds of being successful in life, if I simply stand by the essence of who I am, and not be casting a suspicious eye towards it.

I basically need to trust myself more. But I also need to be rational, because intuition on it's own, is not a smart way of being. I've learned that particular lesson many years before, as I was driving across Canada, shortly after Tina attempted for the second time, to get me into a threesome with her husband.

I'm a complicated and damaged man, I admit. But I'm also simple, and complete.

Complete. I do feel that way. I do feel like I have enough intelligence, enough compassion, enough wisdom, soul, spirit, humor, strength, courage.. whatever attributes are necessary, I already have them. In good amounts too.

I'm not sure if I'm making much sense with this post. But it feels good writing my thoughts down. I know that I have to chronicle this sort of thing, so that I can look back and be reminded of it.

I'm in my office right now, having a bottle of water and looking at the Darth Vader figure I moved from the bedroom into here. He's holding a necklace of mine up, that I hardly ever wear, in place of where Gina's panties once were.

I miss that. I don't know what compelled me that day, that last day she was over, to take the panties off Darth and place them in the bathroom. I think a part of me was tired of looking at them, and wanted her to have it back.

It kind of makes me sick to think I was feeling that way. And it makes me sicker, still, to know that she took them with her. Never to be seen by me again.

I.. have an idea of why she left them here to begin with. Well.. She.. wanted to keep me reminded. Of her. Of us. Of sex. Of her, mainly.. and...

God.. I co..

Sometimes writing is hard. Especially when it's so personal. But.. it feels like something I have to do. To let out. Otherwise keeping it all inside is going to ruin me.

I think too much sometimes. About everything. My mind has a hard time standing still. But I do have my moments, like earlier today, where I could sit in a chair outside for two hours and listen to music without having to think. Just to be in the moment, to enjoy the sun on my face, the wind on my skin. To see insects flying about, and.. yeah, that bunny was here again too. It did something different this time. When I came up to Roger, he did this jump, straight up into the air like two feet, and scampered off. Again, he did that jump as I was watching, and left.

What was the point of jumping straight up into the air? Why would the bunny do that?

Whenever I can't make sense of the world, I try and use my imagination. I try to use empathy. But it doesn't work very well with animals, obviously, as I can't get inside their heads and imagine what is going on. At least not with accuracy, I don't think.

There were times in my life when I did have this profound sense of empathy towards animals, and one of the moments that really resonated with me, was when I visited a Pet Smart a few years ago and went to look at the fishes.

I came across this one particular tank that held maybe two dozen of what looked like goldfish. Some with big eyes, some with small ones and the one that caught my attention looked a lot like this picture here.

(but with a happier looking face)

So this one fish floated at the front of the tank, unmoving, apart from the rest of his tank mates, and was staring through the glass.

Staring at me.

And I stared right back at him. I cleared my mind. I became empathic, and "one" with the fish.

And.. I was. I became. And in that empty mind of mine, I felt what it was like to live in that tank. To blow little air bubbles. To stare at strangers from behind the glass.

This fish kept looking at me. I was there for maybe five minutes. A long time. Locked in this kind of trance. This communal awareness that passed between us.

It felt really good. I honestly felt like I learned from that fish. That I experienced it's reality, and that sort of epiphany somehow carried over into my soul, and made me more appreciative of the other life forms we share this planet with. It's not just humanity. It's everything. The bugs. The birds. The lizards. The horses. Dogs. Cats. Fishes. They all inhabited this "bubble" that we humans kind of separated ourselves from wanting to know.

I think I'm about ready for bed now.

Hopefully once I'm in there, I'll be thinking about fishes.

Instead of her.

(sighs)

Post Consumerism

'Twas a fun day today. Justin ringed me up early in the morning and suggested we go out for lunch. We went to WEM, did a bit of shopping, where I picked all these bad boys up:

1 hat, 2 shirts, 1 pair of jeans, 1 belt, 1 pair of swimming trunks, 4 underwear (one of which has pizza slices all over!) and Justin got himself this $400 watch that actually operates off of body movement and doesn't need a battery. I was a bit jelly, but hey, I'm not spending that much on a damn watch. Not when my Mickey Mouse one still works.

After all that, we thought it would be fun to go someplace classy and have ourselves a couple of beers. So, yeah. That meant Saint Pete's.

We stayed for three dances, and the place was pathetically empty. At the most, there was maybe four other people there. 

This stripper named "Antonia" hit the stage, and I believe my old buddy was smitten by her, but too shy to toss any loonies. I didn't want to toss any myself, but he handed over ten bucks worth and told me to give it a shot.

It was easy. I got all of them except for two. It certainly helped that I was only about five feet away from the target. Justin dared me to get her phone number, so as she was handing over the poster and fridge magnet that I "won", I asked her to come by our table for an autograph.

Justin thought what she wrote on there was hilarious, since earlier in our shopping excursion, I dared him to go up to a girl that he was drooling over, and asked if she would sit on his face. I even offered up a hundred bucks for him to do it. Nope. Didn't happen. Apparently he would do it for $500, but I'm not that much of an idiot. Haha.

So, "Antonia" comes to our table, and I asked her to sign the poster with her phone number, like Justin dared, and it didn't happen either. Oh well. I suppose the reason he dared me was because the last time we went to see strippers a few years ago, I managed to get one of their numbers, and he was suitably impressed. Sadly, my enthusiasm in getting digits, had me texting her as soon as I left the place, and she  probably thought I was a weirdo, since several texts later had me being ignored. I still kick myself for that sometimes. 

Antonia sat down and chatted with us for a while. I drilled her with questions, and found out she was 36 (wow), from Romania, has been having a hard time lately with finding work. I managed to get out the details of how much she gets paid, and it wasn't as much as I thought it would be. Seems that these girls get paid around fifty bucks per dance (on stage), gets to keep their tips (she got a whopping 12 bucks from us), and gets 60% from private dances which are $30 each per "song" which she confessed, was only for around a minute in length. Kinda sad.

I didn't find her physically attractive, but there was something about this girl that made her interesting. For one, she didn't have any tattoos on her, which I appreciate seeing, and two, she had this kind of inner confidence that radiated out which covered up her imperfections.

So, she left, and I started asking Justin about Nicole, his girlfriend of around ten years. 

It was depressing to find out the details of their sex life. She wasn't adventurous or eager to please, and Justin started telling me about how badly he wants to hook up with random girls. After hearing all the details (I always know the right questions to ask), I began to sympathize with him. A lot. I don't condone cheating, and all the advice I'd given him had no effect on their relationship, so I was left with nothing really to say, except for him to do what he thinks is best.

But, not cheating.. I mean, maybe he should break up with her if he's that depressed. Still though, ten years is a long time, that is a hard thing for anyone to do. They live together, and for years she's hinted at him to get married, but he doesn't want to. He really does not want to. He once told me how they both went to Ottawa to visit her family, and during a moment while he was alone with the guys; Nicole's brother asked him why he hasn't proposed, and there was a shitstorm that resulted in Justin tossing a beer bottle at his head.

I feel so bad for the guy. He's a really nice person. Nicole is really nice, too. He admits to loving her, but their sex life.. man.. I have no suggestions left, for how to fix any of what he told me about.

Poor guy.

I hope the magnetic bumper sticker I left on his Jeep will help cheer him up.

Oops, there it is!

I think my canceling on Jen didn't quite go as I expected. She texted back telling me to not be so pessimistic, despite my telling her about the string of disappointing dates I've been on lately.

Guess I might look like something of a wounded knight/puppy in need of rescue by some fair, hoping damsel. Hope that won't be the case. Told her she could call me tomorrow if she'd like, but I'm not in the mood for anything right now. Don't know if I can even care if she calls me tomorrow.

Just find myself a comfy chair, a quiet place, a good pair of headphones and the cd I made for Gina.

That's all I need.

Happiness from sound.

I love music.

"Adagio For Square" by Worakls is on right now, helping keep me calm and collected throughout all the bullshit of this month.

Hmm.

Guess that's all for now.

(several songs later)

Got my novel going. It feels great reading the stuff I'd written so far. I wonder what an editor will think once the manuscript is done.

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Jake was familiar with the relationship his ego had with the abyss. It made every attempt to avoid it. When the abyss asserted itself, the ego shrank away like a vampire in the sunlight, too afraid to confront an enemy that seemed impossible to defeat.

He knew who the true ruler of his mind really was, and it knew it too. But it was always silent. Always still. And moments like this, was where its influence was felt most.

As the abyss awakened itself from its slumber, Jake returned his gaze to the phone. Waiting with expectation for Hohman to call.

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