Frustrated

Days like today sometimes make me wonder why I got out of the comfort of my bed. I know I have alluded to the "Beautiful Struggle" and the overly used cliches, but right now I'm just sitting here still mad at the day.

I guess it started last night, I had one of the sleepless nights. It wasn't because I was in Seattle, but because I have just been going to bed at so many different times that my body doesn't quite have any rythem to it right now. I woke up every hour on the hour until about 6, at which point I got 3 solid hours of sleep before getting up. When I got up the sun was shining and the birds were chirping. It was hot already and I had high hopes for the rest of the day. The plan: Work out, go for lunch with Keller and Gaye, play hockey with the guys until 6 and then wait and go to our friends concert.

I went to the gym that I used to work at and ran into new people who think that they run the joint. I was refused entry because I didn't have my card with me and told that I would not be allowed back in without it. While fuming in the car on the way home I got a call and was told that Gaye wouldn't be able to make it to lunch because she had to pack and that Keller was still sleeping. Good start.

2 o'clock rolls around and I have just finished my lunch. At home. I have called my buddies and each and phone call ended with the words "leave a message after the beep." I think thats fine and remind myself that I still have four hours to play hockey.

3 o'clock: First call back. It's Lunchbox and he has just woken up. He say's that he needs to eat and get ready, but he will meet me at the hockey box with the rest of the guys by 4 at the latest. Sounds good to me. My only worry is that we won't have a goalie. I sit in the sun and wait until I have to leave.

4:30 and no sign of anyone. I leave.

5:00 I get a phone call asking me where I am and told that they are all now at the hockey box and sorry that they are late, but now there are lacross players playing so our game is off. I respond with a combination of obsenities I don't think I have used before. After telling them how I feel about whats going on, I agree to meet them at my buddies apartment around 7.

7 o'clock and I'm ringing the buzzer at an apartment building on 17th and Londsdale. I go up and have a few drinks and a good laugh. We carried on without a worry in the world. We talked and joked for a couple of hours as if we were kids sitting on a field during lunch on the last day of school. I feel good again.

9:45 : Now kinda tipsy, not drunk. We get a phone call saying to come down the hill now, because we already missed one of our friends sets. I hope in a car and my buddy drives us the 15 blocks to the bar. We get there and almost immedietly run into problems. My friend is the head bouncer there and usually just lets me in, but because tonight was "special" he decided to make me pay. Two of my friends are playing tonight so I decide that I don't have a problem paying, but the problem is I don't have cash. I run down the street to an ATM and run back up the hill to the bar and find that my buddy doesn't have ID on him. Fuck. I decide that I'll be a good friend and forsake the bar and the concert to go get some grub.

10:20 we get to Boston Pizza. We order some drinks and a couple appies and sit down. After a 15 minute wait (yes I said 15 minutes) I see the waitress comming back with our drinks. As I'm watching her I notice that she is kind of struggling with the drink tray. As if in slow motion I sit and watch as she struggles and struggles and finally drops all 4 drinks onto my face, chest, arms and lap. Oh, I'm happy again. She apologizes and apologizes. I'm not mad at her. I kind of half expected something to go wrong. I'm just pissed when 45 minutes later I'm paying for my food with damp money, that I pulled out of my soaking wet pockets.

After this debacle, I just decided to come home. I was fed up. I came home and fully expected to write about my birthday. Actualy I DID write about it. I spent the better part of an hour writing it all up and when I went to spell check it, the page refreshed and I lost everything. It was the cherry on top. You see, nothing majorly went wrong, it was just one of those days where almost everything little did. Those of you that know me, know that being stood up or having plans cancelled at the last minute for no reason are one of my biggest pet peeves. The other problems like the sleep and the drink spilling are just things that compound and end up frustrating me. I know I'll wake up tomorrow and have a brilliant day, but for now I sit here wanting the day to end.

Random

That is the best description of me right now. My past few days have been filled with nothing but random activities and spur of the moment decisions that have involved little thought or planning.

I woke up Sunday afternoon with a pretty mean hangover (a story that I'll go into in my next post) and an even worse feeling that I might have done something horribly wrong the night before. After a couple phone calls and everyone's reassurance that I had done nothing wrong, I went about sitting on my ass trying to rehydrate myself. At about 4pm I was shocked to see a couple of my friends at my door in a truck filled with beer and no information except "come with us... you don't need anything." Within 30 minutes we are at the US border having the truck searched by US customs, only to be let through with really no major problems. 2 hours later we are at some house party in Seattle and no idea who any of the people around us are. After a long night, no sleep and a brilliant idea to drive home at 6 in the morning, I found myself back in the comfort of my bed.

Monday afternoon I wake up to the sounds of a car crash outside my window. I roll over get up and spend a portion of the day doing work for my dad. At 6 with the idea that I'm going to do nothing but sit and watch a movie, I decide that I'd go to my friends apartment and watch the movie there. About half way through the movie I find myself walking out the door and hoping in a car to go to Whistler. We get to whistler go to a pub have a pitcher, go to to another restaurant for some food and more beer and then hop in the car and come home. We get to North Van around 1:45am and then realize that we are hungry again. 15 minutes later I found myself in the Knight & Day off of boundary road in Burnaby.

I don't know what country or city I'm going to end up in tonight, but I'm heading out with a toothbrush this time.

It's A Celebration Bitches

For those that know me and reside in the Greater Vancouver area or feel like making a trip to come see me, I turn... well, really old tomorrow. The plan is three fold:

1. Drink at the downtown apartment.
2. Go to the Bourbon around 10ish.
3. Go to No.5 at some point.

Feel free to pop in at any one of the above three locations. Like the title says, its a celebration. Come.

Blah Blah Blah...

What to say... What to say? That is the question. After 7 days without a post, I still find myself sitting here without even the most basic idea of what to say. So for now I'm just banking on the hope that if I start writing something, maybe something will come out of it.

Lately, more than usual, I've been looking back at what I've done so far. Looking back on the race I've run. These past few days, weeks, months and years, I look back on them all with a complete sense of disbelief. Did I do that!? Why didn't I do that more? Why couldn't I have said this? Or not said that? However, with all of the questions you can raise and second guessing you can do after the fact, I wouldn't have changed a thing. My little personal motto has always been, if you look back on your life and never regret anything, well then you've never really lived.

I don't know why I've been looking back so much. I had thought that I was done reminiscing for a while, but alas. Maybe, it's that my birthday has ever so slowly reared its head around the corner and now stands at my doorstep. About that, still don't know what I'm going to be doing. If you know me, you can pretty much narrow the list of places down to one or two. When I know more I'll pop it up here.

Now look at that, I just wrote an entire post and didn't say shit.

The Definition

"Infatuation: A foolish, unreasoning, or extravagant passion or attraction"

Sounds about right.

When All Is Said And Done

Well thats it. It's over. After what seemed like, well, like seven and a half months; school is over. Ring the bells, sound the horns and jump up and yell for joy. It's finally over.

Even as late as last night, when talking to Emma, I figured I'd be overjoyed. I figured that I would just want to drop everything and get drunk at the drop of my pencil. Now I sit here and it is over. What am I going to do tomorrow? I don't know. I'm not as happy as I thought I'd be and I'm certainly not as ready as I figured. That question that I just asked, "What am I going to do tomorrow?" It hangs over my head like this black cloud. I need to figure it all out. I have four months ahead of me and how the hell am I going to spend it?

Oh don't get me wrong, I am more than happy that I'm off school. I am more than happy that as of right now I don't know what I'm going to do from one day to the next. I just know that I've been down this road before and the novelty wear's off. I just hope that I'll get out and enjoy this time with the people that I enjoy being with. That is, if they still want to hang out...

Fuck it, who cares... Pass the beers and JD, it's time to party.

Making It Up As I Go

That is pretty much what this post is going to consist of. I really have no idea where I'm going to go with it, but I can say this much... it will probably be interesting.

So where to start? I guess here is a better place than any. I'm usually a pretty private person. I'll answer pretty much any question that people ask me, but I don't really offer that much up without prompting. For 21 years I struggled with this problem and put more than a few people through long periods of agony because of my refusal to express my feelings. All that has really started to change though. I don't know if it's like a flood gate that cannot be closed or like a car spinning out of control on an icefield, but it sure is open.

Like I've alluded to a couple times, I have been having these absolutely amazing conversations every day for over a week. For at least a couple hours a day, usually on msn, there has just been this free-flowing exchange of information and personalities. I've been pretty dumbfounded really and like the title of this post, I've been pretty much making it up as I go along. I have had zero idea how to even handle this situation, mostly because I have never EVER been in this situation before. I have just been so open, so fast. Pretty much everything has been thrown on the table, and I have no cards up my sleeve. The weird thing is that it doesn't even feel wrong. At all. Actually, it feels odly right to be giving up all this pesonal information. Scary, but right. Like I said, I'm dumbfounded.

Well other than that, I have one exam left. One exam stands between me and a summer filled with... I have no idea what. Really, I need to get a normal job and start going out more. I might edit and add more later so stay tuned.

Today Was...

In the early 90's Ice Cube had a song called "It Was A Good Day." I wouldn't go so far as to call my day today good, but it sure was interesting. I woke up feeling like a complete ass... In a completely selfish and childish manner, I fell into all of the little traps I always said I wouldn't. I always hated it when people made me feel guilty, or jealous or just bad for doing something I didn't really have control over. Last night I epitomized THAT person. I was sitting here looking back on what I've said and done in the past 24 hours and I burst out laughing. Why was I so upset?! I don't have any excuses, but I really wasn't myself for a while. For all of that, I owe someone an apology and if you are reading this... I really truly am sorry. I can only hope that I'll be able to make it up at some point.

Besides feeling like a 'Grade A Jackass,' my day was not productive at all. I seriously spent the entire day thinking about studying. Knowing that I should be studying. I sat in my room staring at my books for hours. I just sat there and tried my best to realize that a single day isn't really that long and before I knew it I would be in class cursing myself for not studying more. It really is funny that no matter how self-aware you are, sometimes there is just nothing you can do to change how you feel.

In a break form 'thinking about studying' and waiting for the day to end, I went and worked out. One foolproof activity to take my mind off of anything is working out, so the plan seemed perfect. At about 8pm I drove to North Van and hit Fitness World. Man its funny the shit that goes on there. Sometimes I sit and think that it would be great to work there again and then I show up and thank god I don't. I hate games, gossiping and backstabbing and that is all that FW is all about. I wasn't more than 4 steps through the front door before I was bombarded with 5 different "major" rumors. It eventually took me 2+ hours to do a workout that usually takes me just over 1.

Now I'm pretty much right back where I started really. I sit here thinking about all that childish bullshit I pulled, and the procrastinating I was doing when I should have been studying. Man, today was an interesting day.

The Morning

So after a good half nights sleep, I sit here pondering what the hell happened last night. I know what literally happened, but what the hell really happened. This past week and a bit has been like the biggest hurricane that has swept through my life in a long time. The same themes keep recurring over and over. The same symbols and signs keep recurring over and over. Usually this wouldn't bother me too much because I'm not one for looking at signs. However, this time I've been reading every one and every single one is contradictory. One step forward... One step back. Im stuck in the perpetual limbo of not knowing what to do next.

Things go great and then I stick my foot in my mouth. I recover, remove said foot from mouth and makes some forward strides, only to be knocked down and have others pass me by in the race to the finish line. I got through a horrible portion of my life rather unscathed and feeling quite happy with my situation, only to walk into a wall that I have no idea how to open. I sit here typing all of this after blatantly lying to a couple people, saying that I couldn't talk anymore and I had to go. I guess it wasn't a blatant lie, I really could not talk anymore. I just didn't have anywhere to go. Literally and figuratively.

Bar None

The lamest/worst night ever, has to go to my night tonight. I spent the first half of the evening studying for two exams that I have this week and then the second half of the evening standing out front of The Royal, only to have the person I came to see treat me like the bouncer. I find it funny really, I'm not mad at anyone or anything but myself right now. Expectations are a very dangerous thing to have set. A wise woman once told me in one of our very first conversations that, she never has expectations because "you can never be let down without them." I used to laugh at those words the same way I would look at the saying, "whatever doesn't kill you makes you stronger" as being cliche. Expectations are a beautiful thing, hopes and dreams are beautiful. However, one thing I learned tonight is that there is no such thing as perfection.

The Guy On Your Shoulder...

Oh no....
Say something;
Those eyes, their looking at you;
Stop crossing your arms;
Wait,
Look up... Look Up dammit!
Say something nice...
Yeah do that... be nice.
People love nice.
Stop crossing your arms!
You want to do something?
Stop fidgeting.
Put your hands in your pockets...
Why are you kicking the dirt?
Why are you looking at your feet!?
Look up dammit!
Fuck, why are your arms crossed again!?
Stop saying ummm;
There you go again!
I give up...
Do you want to do this on your own?
I'll pack up and walk out right now!
Then stop crossing your fucking arms...
Look up...
stand tall...
and for the love of god open your damn mouth!

The Beautiful Struggle

Life is a beautiful struggle. You wake up one day and its raining, no its pouring. Still you wake up and open your eyes, you roll over and you open the blinds. You sit up, get dressed and march into the storm. Head on you march. Through snow, wind, Rain, Hurricanes, forests, over hills and over walls. Obstacles all there to try and turn you around. Trying to get you to go back home, to retreat to the comfort of your bed. To give up and give in.

Yet, through all of it, you march forward. Through the snow and the rain. Over the mountains and walls. You fight through it all. You struggle. For what? To get to the otherside. To the sun and the warmth. Everyday people are faced with decisions or challenges. To say yes or say no? To go left or to go right? You may make the wrong choices in life, but the beauty is in the struggle. Through perseverance. I used to think that it was cliche' when people said what doesn't kill you makes you stronger. How wrong is that. Life, like love, is a mother fucker. It turns you around and bends you over sometimes. Yet, at the end of the day the struggle makes you stronger and wealthier. Its scary, but one hell of a ride. Life, it's a beautiful struggle.

Go Fuck Yourself!

That's what Im telling my brain right now. For two days, I have had zero brain activity and it's killing me. I feel like Terri Schiavo. I cannot fathom a single intellectual thing to write on here so now im simply writing for the sake of writing.

I've been sitting in front of this... this thing, for hours upon hours. It has sucked me dry. I've written about 10 drafts, but have failed to produce anything of substance. For a second I thought, "HEY! I can write about the Pope dying!", but then I realized that I already used up my one "copy everyone else" post on the Terri Shiavo case. I really don't know what it is either. Maybe it's that the end of the school year is upon us and my brain decided to take an early leave of absence. Maybe the consistent amount of Jack Daniels I consumed for two years has finally caught up to me since I decided to stop drinking. Maybe it's that I haven't been drinking.

I've had some of the best conversations, ever, over the past few days. Yet, when I sit down and want to write something meaningful, it comes out as mindless dribble. Fuck, I even responded to posts on other blogs with at least some sort of intellectual prowess. So for now, I give up. I concede defeat. However, I do so with little sportsmanship or honor. As I lay down to sleep tonight, I will curse my brain and its failure to think as I want it to think. Tomorrow, hopefully I'll wake up and find my inner Tonya Harding. Then go and just hit the shit out of my brain. Even Nancy Karrigan got up and won the silver medal, right?