October 25, 2004

Ugh. It's dreary Monday morning, the kind of morning that were I working, I would be hard-pressed to drag my weary carcass out of bed and out into the drizzly grey world that is Vancouver in the fall. Luckily for me, one of the many benefits unemployment bestows is a reprieve from having to face Monday until I'm good and ready. I did get out of bed, though. That was pretty tough.

Next on the list (after I've finished rambling on for a little while, of course) is to remove the infernal time-wasting solitaire and minesweeper games from my hard drive. It's a radical step, I know, but I believe it is for the best. I confess it is a little bit sad that such drastic steps must be taken - but we all have tics like these that we are ashamed of, I just choose to advertise mine to the world.

More to come.

October 22, 2004

Nope. Still feeling pretty much the same this morning. Damn.

October 21, 2004

I have finally gotten around to fixing the Saga Dialect link on the left-hand side there. Well, truth be told, I also have finally finished converting the file into HTML, something I probably should've done before I posted the link... yet another shining example of my tendencies towards the ass-backwards in life.

* * *

Ok. I think I've been unemployed long enough. Not only have the days become more difficult to fill (to say nothing of having any sense of accomplishment at the end of the day), but I've been playing with my budget and have calculated that after rent and car insurance, EI leaves me with a whopping $16.54 a day to work with. This irks me somewhat.

Although I would yet love to hold out and wait for replies from jobs that I've already applied for, I'm not so sure that I can. As much as I would like to keep on keeping on until that dream job/easy career change comes along, there's a part of me that keeps screaming at me to wake up and stop kidding myself. There is simply no way I can sustain myself at this rate - my free food ticket expires tomorrow and sixteen dollars a day might just barely buy me enough groceries to survive. Damn high metabolism.

To cap it all off, I've got that failure feeling at the moment, and it's pissing me off. After three years of working and essentially getting nowhere, tonight it feels like I've taken one giant step backwards. It could be worse, mind you - the school is closed for good, so I would've been out of work anyway... and minus a few weeks wages to boot. The CBC has been talking about how great the Canadian economy is these days, and how unemployment is at an all-time low. Could've fooled me. Seems everyday I hear about someone else getting laid off or a business going under - the number of people looking for work I've met over the last few weeks is staggering. The only jobs available seem to be the minimum-wage eight bucks an hour service jobs. You know, the shitty ones that even if you work fifty hours a week you still hardly manage to scrape by?

I've also been talking with friends and we've noticed that there are a disproportionate amount of seemingly wealthy people in this city. What the hell kind of jobs do they have, anyway? Even jobs requiring vast amounts of knowledge, training and/or experience only pay some $35k a year... I made that at Rainbow and barely broke even. I feel there is some secret that I haven't been let in on. I am aware that most of these folks are likely carrying vast amounts of debt, but that really doesn't make me feel any better.

But enough of this. No sense in whining. Think I'll go do something else for a while.

October 19, 2004

So I'm hanging out on my balcony, reading a book. This fella comes walking up to the dumpster, performs the standard root-through, checks the recycling bins, looks up and notices me, waltzes over and says: "Hey, dude. Spare some change?" I look at him and give him the usual and he responds with: "Well, how about a cigarette?"

I stared at him for a full minute and said no. "Fuck you then, buddy," he said and then walked off.

I mean, I'm in my home and I'm getting harrassed. Talk about ridiculous. What is a body to do? Things have got to be out of hand when you're taking abuse from people in your own home. Sure, I sympathize with his plight, but I've already developed some pretty serious panhandler calluses - I wasn't prepared for this, however. It's times like this when I feel the city's agressive panhandling bylaws might not be so draconian after all.

I don't know - there is obviously an ever-increasing dichotomy between rich and poor in this city, and I often wonder which side I'm on. I guess that is the reason I am upset by situations like this. How far am I from the same? It's disconcerting to think how close I live to the official poverty line - and is it a shove or just a nudge that will put me over? Regardless, I know that I'd sooner work a fifty hours a week doing labour than hit people up for money. This kind of pride I do not consider a sin.

It would appear (reading over this, anyway) that there is a part of me that considers this a flaw in others, but I would be hard pressed to admit that this is the case. Lord knows that the unforseeable always comes to pass, and that all most can do is react to the situation at hand. I am more than aware that the individual is compelled to act in a manner that best benefits the self (myself included, though I am loathe to admit it), and that this is basic human nature, but at the same time I feel that one should at the very least be considerate towards others - particularly those that acknowledge the individual in a difficult situation.

All apologies. There was a long interruption, during which time I got drunk and subsequently lost all train of thought. These things happen... at least to folks like myself. I'm fairly sure I had a point to make, or at least a train of thought to follow, but I've lost it. Good thing I've never allowed these writings to be anything but incoherent.

* * *

And so, in the drunken thrall to the muse that I am, I continue. Thanks be to old friends, those that continue on in their merry ways, yet still remember the promise of a tropical summer eve - you, who were there for the experiences and moments incomprehensible, I greet you. You were, and yet remain, those that I value most in this the random collection of moments that is my life.

Today I was faced with that which is to come. I saw my father, laid out upon a hospital bed, still eager to continue on with his life and unashamed of that which had befallen him. I found myself wondering if I was possessed of the strength I saw this afternoon, the ability to still crack jokes in the face of adversity and realized that in this moment, all that I had valued and all that I had experienced had been rendered inconsequential.

I'd like to take this moment to acknowledge my parents and all that they have done for me. Without them, I would not be the person I am today and can only hope that in the future I can meet adversity with the same courage and stoicism that I witnessed this day. The ease with which they dealt with the situation at hand made me realize that I am (in a great many aspects) still unformed and unprepared to cope with difficult turns of fate. I can only hope that in the future, when strife comes knocking at my door, that I am as poised and resolute as they were today.

So let it be said: here and in any other situation; Mom and Dad, I love and honour you more than I ever felt possible. I can only dream of being the individual that you have shown me it is possible to be.

October 14, 2004

I might just be thoroughly inattentive, but I've noticed the verb to hector has recently made a resurgence. I've heard it used at least four times over the past three days. The first time I heard it, I thought I simply misheard what was actually said; the second, that the speaker had made a mistake and meant to say 'heckle'; the third, I grabbed my dictionary; and this morning, well... here we are. You all should know what that means.

hector (1) n [Latin, from the Greek Hektor]

1. cap: a son of Priam, husband of Andromache, and Trojan champion slain by Achilles
2. bully, braggart

hector (2) vb hectored; hectoring

• vi: to play the bully: swagger
• vt: to intimidate by bluster or personal pressure

Synonym: BAIT - hectoringly adv

Interesting, no? I didn't think I'd heard the expression before. So now I can use "to heckle and hector" in a sentence. I'm so excited. I realize that although I have only recently become aware of the term, I state above that it has made a resurgence - obviously the Romans used it (disparagingly, no doubt) - because it is in my trusty dictionary (printed in 1977) and I don't think there are too many common words that have been in constant use since my birth that I haven't heard. And to cut y'all off at Comment Pass, any word I hear more than once a day, I consider to be common.

October 13, 2004

I've discovered a problem. It seems my addictive personality has reared it's ugly head yet again. I've fallen into something of a distrubing morning routine: for the last week or so, I've rolled out of bed, brewed a pot of coffee and played solitaire or minesweeper for a minimum of three hours. I'm so ashamed. I mean, could there be a greater waste of time?

I don't know how I got started on this kick - obviously it's another facet of my predilection towards distraction, yet despite the guilt I feel when I realize I've wasted the better part of the day clicking mindlessly instead of writing or otherwise being productive, I still repeat the performance every day. Granted, I listen to the CBC as I play, which is never a waste of time, but I reckon I could listen to the radio and still do something worthwhile. What is it that spurs me to spend my energies on frivolous endeavours? I have dreams, I have goals, I have things that I need to do - and I'm pretty damn sure that getting a high score on either of these games does not fall into any of these categories.

It's also safe to say that I am going to find neither gainful employment nor meaningful relationships in this manner. I'm beginning to wonder if perhaps I've lived alone for too long - isn't this the kind of thing that shut-ins or recluses engage in? I'd like to quote Sam Roberts (who I heard for the first time on the radio this morning) and say I feel my life is passing me by, but really, am I not letting it slip past? Have I not done so for basically the last two years? Is this not the refrain I have been singing for so long? Friends and family have told me that I've been depressed, but I don't feel particularly blue - apathetic, to be sure - at least not what I consider feeling 'depressed' to be.

Well, that might not be entirely true. Loneliness is a constant companion these days. I realize that solitude is very important to me and that I need to get away from people on a regular basis (I mean, I do hate everybody after all - it's part of being a misanthrophile), but it is conceivable that I have become a little too withdrawn. I don't know, living alone for 7 years might do that to anyone. It's a dichotomy that I've struggled to communicate for years; even the term "misanthrophile" that I came up with (or so I like to claim... no proof, though) is still somewhat lacking. It's funny, it's a feeling that I think is shared by a great many people, yet no one seems to be willing or able to describe it. What the hell, let's give it another shot:

I like to meet people, I really do. I'm always eager to engage in conversation and I like having people around. I believe myself to be a social creature and something of an entertainer - there's no denying it, I love the attention. Yet there exists a simultaneous dislike or disdain for the general population.

It is this that I have the most difficulty explaining. It's not an outright hatred or feeling of superiority, it's just that... well, not to put too fine a point on it, but people piss me off. Simply put, they're either always in my way or are engaged in an obviously idiotic endeavour. These are things that I just cannot abide - which, in all fairness, might be a character flaw on my part, but there isn't a day that goes by that I don't wish them all dead. Truly.

So I both love and hate people - that's nothing new. Looking back over these two paragraphs, I note that my words have failed me yet again. This reads as if I hate people until I get to know them, which is only partially true. Yes, I am much more patient with those I am familiar with, yet there are very few that survive my imagined armageddon.

Perhaps I am unwell. Not to frighten anyone, but daily do I dream of destruction. I'm not saying that I am planning the demise of mankind, it's just I fantasize of the end of society as we know it. That's not too bad, is it? I can already imagine the emails I'm going to get. Friends that frequent this page are going to be raising eyebrows and regarding me with a wary eye the next time we meet, wondering if I'm visualizing their untimely demise. It's not like that at all. I never wish death or misfortune on anyone, I just like to imagine a post-apocalyptic (I suppose) world where I I no longer have to worry about assholes in SUVs.

Ok. I think I'm officially rambling. Let's call it a day, shall we?