Misfits & Bad Moods

I realized something significant on the weekend. When I cook and I bake, I think I put too much stock into these activities as being something good to do. While I do end up gaining better cooking and baking skills, ultimately, cooking is the same as reading a book, going for a walk or painting.  It seems more justifiable at the time, because let’s face it, cooking is damn practical in the long run, especially if you’re doing it in all available spare time.

The problem is all the shit that goes with cooking. If I give the appearance of being that domestic, it seems like all these other expectations seem to rear their ugly heads– that I’m boring, settled, and love being a lonely homebody. Even better, I can’t wait to be someone’s wife, I love home renos, and that’s all I want to talk about.

My party, while it was wonderful to see everyone that visited me, was not so great. It isn’t the first time I’ve thrown a shindig and basically botched the whole hostess thing. I think basically I can do everything to throw a party together very well, except for the “life” of the party. Part of this I think is because my social skills are possibly degrading– I’m very out of touch with my friends and who they’ve become. None of us are ever out of touch with the world, it’s a generational trait that we are always in the know (actually to the point of being a cliche), but it’s easier to relate to world events and things outside of ourselves, than to who we are changing into as adults.  An easier way of putting it, is that we no longer have the intimacy in our “group” that we used to– I’m fairly certain it’s a natural thing, but I’m also pretty sure that I’ve shot all my friendships in the foot by living out here. That said, I don’t think moving back to the city is a solution to that either.

Ultimately, I think I just have to fix my brain. I feel like I am no longer a compelling person to know, like I don’t really offer much in the way of anything to anyone. I don’t know how I’ve gotten to this point, but it feels like everything I’ve ever accomplished has had some aspect of snake oil to it.  One thing I will give the countryside is there is much more purity in my actions. I’m less inclined to do stupid things, get into stupid trouble, have stupid drama, and more inclined to just putter away and do productive quiet and creative things, but this is making me a dullard. I don’t regret moving here, and I don’t regret that I can’t do foolish or impulsive things as much, but I do feel like I am compelling no one in any way, affecting no one at all by my presence or my absence. It’s kind of weird.

I think possibly the thing about it is that I don’t know where I’m at as far as self importance. You know the phrase, “get over yourself?” I used to know lots of people who could not ever get over themselves, and always tried to stay away from it, but I have to say that I think by constantly being cognizant of this I can’t help but wonder if I am still just incredibly self-absorbed.

Oh Livejournal….blah blah blah.

John is not getting me a Christmas present. But Chris will. Ain’t that a kick in the head?  I feel like my life is doomed as far as personal relationships go. Everything is wrapped up in John though, for a few reasons. He is my best friend, he understands me (when he cares to, and tries to), he’s very smart, good looking, and he makes me laugh.  My hopes and my goals are all wrapped up in him, which seems dangerous, because I can’t say I’ve truly done that before, but I’m so tired of fighting through relationship bullshit. On the same note, I’m tired of the crap too. I know I’m subpar as a woman at best, that I can’t afford to be picky (it has taken me a long time to realize this important fact, admittedly), but I still know I don’t deserve to be treated like shit. John though, I can get mad at, at least. He sees the err of his way, we talk about it, and he’s good…for a little while, before he slips on back into doing the thing that upsets me (i.e. treating it like  a chore to do nice things for me, that I ask him to do, because he wouldn’t think of them otherwise). If I’m lucky he doesn’t fall back into being a jerk, but both of us still have immature aspects of our natures that rear their ugly heads.

All this said, I feel like I’m wasting my life. Every day I feel like I just have to pass the time, like I’m waiting for something, and that something I’m waiting for might blow up in my face (and have ended up taking nearly five years of my life to do so). I think if I had more money I wouldn’t feel this way, because I could do other  things, but nope…saddled with home, saddled with debt.

I’m going to need a change soon, because I don’t like this path. I think I could rent the house out and travel, perhaps, but I’d still need the lump sum, fight with my parents (and John) about travelling alone, animal care, and time off. Time off is easy (and soon to be easier) to get though. I also get a raise in February, so that might do some damage. That said, there’s all this shit that needs to be done with the house that I know I ought to get out of the way first. And I do enjoy the house, but it is a lot of empty and alone sometimes.  It might be better to make improvements on it and just sell it and find something smaller. It is ideal for raising a family in, but I’m starting to give up on that silly notion too.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Bring on the Suck

I have to mention, because it really needs to be said: What the fuck was Weezer thinking when they came out with “Raditude”???

This album sucks for a number of reasons that I hope someone reads. Firstly, it’s so cliched in so many ways. Reach for the top? Love is the answer? I’m so used to slightly mischievous and slightly bad ass nerd rock from times of olde, so when I actually listened to this album, I was really disheartened at just how bad it was. Not only was it cliched, but they used terrible folky chant rhythms for some of it, trite lyrics (as mentioned) and horrible slang that did nothing but to prove that a whole bunch of white guys can sound actually really ridiculous, and somehow make money from it. I don’t venture a guess that they made a lot of money from a song about ‘hanging with their homies’ or ‘when I used to play b-ball.’

What the album does serve to do is date them. Quite badly, actually. It made me feel embarrassed for my age bracket, and it made me embarrassed for them, because they’re older than me, and obviously striving to achieve a “cougar-esque” sound. That’s exactly what it made me think of, “cougars”, or stale M.I.L.F.’s that still dress like Brittany Spears.

This is terribly degrading, but there are only two songs that I find redeemable on the whole album. The first one, “If you’re wondering if I want you to”, is awesome. I love it. The other one was “Love is the Answer”. Completely trite message, but they managed to get some scimitar (??) and some Indian music into the mix that I thought was more their usual creative pace. The rest of it is just a lot of hot garbage though, unfortunately, which I find really really upsetting. This album could be their absolute demise. The absolute only thing I could think of to rationalize some of the choices they made is that they have smoked a little too much weed, and this is the product of some super fried times, reminiscent of that trippy album that nobody liked that the Beatles came out with (mid-Yoko, but I could be wrong). The other thing I thought of, was maybe this was a satire about how music that is somewhat reminiscent of the Beatles would no longer fly in our time with the ‘youth of today’, specifically my generation of Weezer fans. I think this is altogether too optimistic though. If meant to be ironic, it would be  hilarious, but if it was, it also falls flat on its fucking face, quicker than a fat kid with untied shoelaces. You idiots!

Tomorrow I’m going to listen to the Red Album for the first time. Hopefully that goes better.

Congratulations, you aren’t a failing sector. Yet

That felt good. The whole day felt good. I feel like I’m uncomfortably garnered inside of an ice fishing tent surrounded by heavy traffic, but I guess that’s just what life is all about, and my stupid realizations are really just mundane fodder for most other people.

I purchased an RRSP portfolio today, and now, I don’t have to pay the tax man barely anything, and if I ever do, it will be scant amounts.  All I had to do was compromise my ethical sense of well-being a little bit.

Here’s how it works. You get a *comfort* plan from an unnamed financial institution that is basically a mutual fund (a mix of bonds and index stocks, in this case, 5 in total). You have four stocks (I have three high risk stocks, and one very safe stock, because this is a long term investment), and one bond. Bonds are reliable, stocks are not. The trick is to balance them all out so that the bond could potentially act as a little bit of a hedge for the stocks/indexes.

Here’s my conundrum: I would like specific details on who is somehow a corporate non-bank entity attached to my stock interests please…. (some stocks are nationally affiliated sector stocks– some of these are steady as hell, some are not).

*scan to the booklet*

EnCana, SunCor, the Oil Sands Trust Fund? Enbridge?

I realize that inevitably, if looking for a tiny investment in the energy sector, that oil industry will be present there, but it gave me a dirty feeling. I had to make a choice between two diversity stocks, one that had specific oil company names on it, and one that just had the OSTF on it, or my whole RRSP would have been a no-go.  The woman I was dealing with looked at me like I was on crack when I looked up at her in disbelief as my finger rested on “EnCana,”  and mentioned that I was not happy about that.

I understand, energy sector, energy sector…blah blah, inevitably oil industry will be a part of this– I get it! But it was still irritating. In the long run, I didn’t even take “safety” into account, but rather, chose the one affiliated with the OSTF (which, coincidentally was the safest out of the two).  This means that my investments are at a hilariously optimistic level of “safe”, and that my finances will be part of the oil sands barometer “o’ demise”. At the very least, I have catastrophized in my head that they might be.  I’m going to lie to myself about my incrimental amount of money every day.

“It is saving ducks. It is saving ducks. It is saving ducks.”

To stop goofing around– it was funny how uncomfortable I felt about investing my money into specific oil companies. For the last three years, when I think about the success of oil companies, it’s felt like we’re all just sitting in a waiting room waiting for the death of a loved one, when the end becomes a question of not if, but when.   The young intern who tried her darndest to snow-job me through the whole thing (I think she assumed I didn’t know anything), was completely astounded that I would even question any of her recommendations based on the very loose sense of ethics I have about stuff like this.  This same intern wouldn’t give me any sound explanation for global diversification, other than saying, “well Canada sucks, we just have wood and metal. We don’t have…. *frantic glance* Lexmark, or *another frantic glance* Dell computers, or…. like, Starbucks…”

Hot damn! I should have wrapped up all of my RRSPs in Starbucks…I would be a rich lady-type then.

Nullibicity

[fr. L. nullibi, nowhere]  (or nullibiety, or nullibility)
the condition or attribute of being nowhere; non-existence

Here’s an interesting and somewhat negative point to ponder:

I was wondering the other day, as per the proximity of Valentines day, whether holidays are really only significant because no matter who you are, if you’re celebrating it, obviously you have not completely fucked up your life.  Is any celebration, when you break it down, a way to merely reflect on your life and a small measure of success that you’ve achieved, simply by virtue of being able to celebrate? I mean, sure holidays have “themes”, like love, or the birth of Christ consumerism, or the rising of Christ the Easter bunny (???) [2], but what do we do? We gather around our family and loved ones, we eat junk food, and we generally deviate from the normal everyday existence we led up until that point, even if only for a few days. Really, though most holidays have the pretext of us being unselfish and caring towards others, what is happening is, “I can do this and be like this at this time, because I’m at least a little bit awesome in one form or another.”

For instance, take Valentines day. We celebrate our loved ones [1] and what they represent to us, but really we’re also subliminally thinking, “thank god I am not cold and alone, because I’m awesome.”

My proposal, based on the underlying context of all holidays that I have discovered, is to possibly abstain. It seems logical to deviate from yet another type of societal conformity that says, “if you don’t do this, you suck at life. We must all strive to not suck at life!”

[1] that we do naughty things with behind closed doors or in elevators

[2] is it just me, or is the leap from the resurrection of Christ to the concept of the Easter bunny just completely nonsensical? How did that happen? What is the transition from sacred Christian holiday to chocolate eggs, easter egg hunts, and a proliferation of things with rabbits decorating them? On the one hand, I’m glad I’m not a Christian, but on the other hand, if I’m celebrating rabbits and chocolate for no reason once a year, I’d like a goddamn explanation.

Anal probe club

There is some seriously trippy stuff going on near Niagara Falls it seems. I’m not one to believe in UFOs, but I still have uncomfortable feelings about the light I see every night that doesn’t correspond with how stars or planets “travel” the night sky. The light itself is unblinking, although it will sometimes flare and grow extremely bright. As well, it moves. It either sways, moves up and down small amounts, or from side to side.  It doesn’t cover long distances when it moves, but when it does move, it’s clearly discernable.

A few things:

a) I told my father (a renowned astronomy nerd) about this, and he thinks it must be Jupiter, and that my eyes are playing tricks on me because of the two moons (two or three?) that Jupiter has. This is apparently a prime year for Jupiter sightings, and he thinks it would appear fairly low on the horizon in about the same part of the sky where I’m seeing mystery light.

b) I saw the same phenomenon in BC, only the movement was much more noticeable and quicker. As well, in BC, there was more than one moving light at the same altitude that I was able to observe over the span of two hours. One light would move  around in small gestures, and the other got closer and closer to it. When they were about a hands-breadth (if I hold my hand up and…) away, there was a lot of movement between the two, and one light dissappeared.

c) I would like to think that I’m not crazy, but every night I see it I try to discern if it has a definite path that it follows in the sky. So far, if I check on it at the same time on two nights in a row, the locations I will find it at are not remotely related in a logical sense.

d) while I don’t have the steadiest hands on the planet, when one looks at stars say, through a binocular, there is a certain visual impression made by them. When I look at the notorious light, all I see is spinning crap. It boggles my mind that I can look at a star and think, “yep, that’s a star all right,” and look at the other thing, and not be able to make sense of what I’m seeing at all. You’d think that if it was a planet, it would be even easier to make sense of, visually magnified (however small), than a star.

I really need to borrow a telescope and get to the bottom of the Intergalactic Stalker.