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(no subject) [Dec. 1st, 2009|05:44 am]
Crap. Just deleted an entry that was about how awesome slow-cookers are, and haven`t the time or inclination to rewqrite all of it. AAAAaaaaarrrrrggghhhh!!

It`s also not even 6am, because I`m going to the gym again (Week 6, Day 2...woot!). This time of day should not be permitted.

Okay, in short: slow cooker awesome, has changed my life.

Bah.
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(no subject) [Nov. 26th, 2009|04:53 pm]
In short, the new place is amazing and comfortable and open and makes me feel like I have a proper home. I have more room for books. Wee!

In other news, I'm now working a monda-Friday 8am - 4pm shift instead of the rotating evening shift I had before, and that's also working out well (so far - this is week one of that schedule).

Tomnorrow I will have completed 5 weeks in a row of getting to the gym 4-6 days a week. The goal is to make it to 12 weeks and then set a new goal.

I bought a new laptop for nanowrimo, but I haven't been writing on it, whicvh is why I keep making typos...out of practice I guess. The plan: to start writing more regularly instead of spending hours playing Civilization III and reading pron (okay, I probably won't stop the porn).

Things are going well and I hope to update again soon.
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(no subject) [Oct. 31st, 2009|12:03 am]
Well, tomorrow's the move. If I can just make it through the day, the rest of the weekend will be awesome.

My new place has an indoor pool!!!
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(no subject) [Oct. 29th, 2009|01:09 pm]
Argh. Running late today (as is my wont, I guess). Too much moving stress.

I forgot to mention in my last post some of the other new stuff. The biggy is that my work schedule is changing to a standard mon-fri, 8am-4pm shift, which will be great, because it will free up my evenings for a) rugby next spring and b) continuing eduction cladsses. I'm thinking of taking some business communication courses, along with creativewriting stuff. We'll see.

Okay, I shouldn't be posting anything when I'm about an hour behind schedule....
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(no subject) [Oct. 28th, 2009|01:01 am]
Ugh. I just spent the last 15 minutes sobbing because of a Biggest Loser episode. I have never sunk so low (okay, not true, I'm sure I've been lower).

As a consequence, I figured I ought to spend a couple of moments updating y'all, since stuff is changing, and it's all pretty much good.

This weekend is Move Number 29 (by my reckoning). I'll be moving in with my handsome, funny, etc boyfriend of some 16 or 17 months into an apartment that has rooms, and a kitchen that isn't just a wall with a square foot of counter-space. The move is stressful, I'm pretty much insane right now (but keeping a lid on it, for the most part, I think), and I never want to move again, just because I'm sure I've met and exceeded my lifetime quota.

But, it is time. I've lived in this bachelor/boarding house apartment for 2 months shy of 3 years. I moved here after a series of pretty wretched situations, some of my own doing, some of random craziness, some of anxiety or depression, etc, etc.

The idea (the hope, really) was that I would use this place to help build back my life, to regain some stability. I had been in freefall, I'd been low, I felt like a failure. I needed to be here to lay down some topsoil after feeling like I'd been stripped to the bedrock. When I moved here, I had no furniture, no curtains, no bed. I had, maybe, 3 large cardboard boxes of random stuff. I didn't have a reliable phone, an internet connection, even an alarm clock (I bought a cheap, battery-powered clock-radio that I still use today. It might have been my first purchase here). At the time, I also felt like I'd used up the best of my friends' generosity. My meagre possessions were carted here in the van of the small Asian lady who owned the flop house that I'd stayed at for 3 weeks before finding this place.

Somehow, I've now lived here as long as I've lived anywhere else. I love this neighbourhood, and I'm really going to miss it. I even love this building, in a strange, dysfunctional way.

But it's time. I'm not as fragile as I once was, and it's time for me to live in a real home. I'm too cynical to expect that my life will be smooth sailing from now on, but I feel like I'm ending a very dark, very long chapter of my life. I don't worry (so much) that at any minute my life will slip out from under me, that I'll be depressed and homeless and alone. I feel like I'm whole. The topsoil has been laid down. I'm not recoering anymore. It's time to grow.

*

On a completely unrelated note, I have some Zombie news:

I've seen the movie Zombieland, and I give it 4 out of 5 stars. It is a solid zombie flick with equal parts scares and laughs. There's the occassional uneven scene, and as much as I loved a certain cameo appearance, how they end the appearance seems completely unrealistic and stupid to me, but overall a solid film.

Also, the boyfriend and I have bought our first shared purchase (sort of), a board game called Zombies!!! We've only really played it once, but it was quite fun, and has a lot of possibility. We've bought 2 of the umpteen suppliments, but haven't had a chance to make full use of them. On the zombie scale, I'll give it 4.5 out of 5.

*

Last, Bren, Happy terribly belated birthday. I'm a horrible friend. Once I'm settled in I'll give you a call and we can make awkward small-talk or something. I love you and hope you're doing well.
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(no subject) [Sep. 24th, 2009|02:30 am]
Okay, so, stuff I care about, in no particular order:

My Teenage Sister has told me that she's gay. Which is awesome, I guess, except that I will be completely incapable of having an actual, normal, conversation with her until she is at least 25. She's 16-ish (16 in October), and I totally remember reading porn and having a complete and full world of sex-talk with my friends at that age. Okay, actually putting that in writing helps. But still, I have serious insecurity about being a good big brother to my little sister, while telling her how gay men give awesome blowjobs. Ever since she told me that I don't need to give her books anymore, I've been adrift. Yikes!

My brother is engaged!! My brother is engaged. It's fine. But I (according to what I've been told, and also reality: I am NOT the person to ask to find female strippers...) can't be an effective Best Man. But given that, I have no idea what role I might play in his (years-and-years in the future) wedding. I hate social situations where I don't know what's expected. Also, after my brother announced all this, my mom confessed that she had given up on ever fitting in with her peers, because me and my (younger by 2 years) brother would never give her this kind of thing to talk about (weddings, grandkids, becoming doctors and/or lawyers and/or astronauts). It kind of stung, because I do plan to have a family, but she's kind of written me off.

Okay, so I've got stuff to say about a lot of other stuff, including science vs religion (I'm agnostic, but I'm kind of fed up with atheists who talk about faith like it's an embarassing disease), nanowrimo (what kind of writer am I? I have to buy a laptop! Also, AAAAUUUGHHHH!! Less than 2 months!!!!), and OMG, I'm actually moving again, and this time I will make damn sure that I never have to lift one of my boxes!

It would be awesome if I post some of those details soon....
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(no subject) [Sep. 19th, 2009|02:08 am]
Oh! Also, I'm reading Moby Dick, which is a lot more humourous than I'd been lead to believe. I'm on page 115 and the boat -finally- left the frickin' dock, and we -still- haven't met captain frickin' Ahab, but at least Ishmael has a sense of humour (and Queequeg, too...)
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(no subject) [Sep. 19th, 2009|02:03 am]
I'm not dead or anti-posting, I just happen to lead a lifestyle that is anti-posting. Meaning, I fall asleep before I post.

The big news, me and the boyfriend are moving in together Nov. 1st. We've been approved for a nice appartment, with a rooftop pool, in the gaybourhood, for round about our income level. Woo!

I have, like, a billion thoughts to post, that I won't post, because I'm a lame LJer. Boo!
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(no subject) [Aug. 5th, 2009|12:38 am]
I'm now reading a book about the Acadian expulsion. I'm half Acadian, and I paid attention during school, so I know the basics.

Even so, I had a hard time not showing my emotion on the subway while I read what my ancestors went through 250 years ago.

Incidently, Evangeline would make for an awesome animated film (but probably not Disney, because they ruin everything...)
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(no subject) [Jul. 29th, 2009|01:44 am]
Also, my sis just told me she's gay. I'm 30% suspicious that she's just still rebelling against her parents, and 70% in a bit of shock. Jeez....
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(no subject) [Jul. 29th, 2009|01:17 am]
Mental Note: Give Bren a call.

Other Business:

I'm seriously considering choosing rats as my next pet. My living situation is not yet Dog-ready, and I have a good reason to avoid taking on the responsibility of a cat (also, cats live 15+ years, rats live at best 3 or 4).

I need an animal that is affectionate and always happy to see me...it'll make crappy* days at work like this seem better.



*Keeping things in perspective, 2 years ago I was in the worst work-space I've ever encountered. "Crappy day at work" these days means, at most, "Ugh, work is less fun than fun. Darn."
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(no subject) [Jun. 27th, 2009|04:34 am]
It's my birthday. Yay me! I was born! Whooooo!

So, exciting story:

I finished work at 10pm, got home about 11, had some leftover whisky, played online computer games, watched bad TV...I should have been in bed by 1 or 2, but it was just after 3am.

There's a knock at my door. I call out "Who is it" because a) I never just answer my door no matter what time it is, because it freaks me out, and b) I don't quite dare to pretend I'm asleep, because I'm suddenly, irrationally, panicked that I've been typing on my computer too loud and it's the landlord (who lives next door) come to tell me to keep it down (which is the beginning of another story, which is really to pointless to get into). No one answers so, still afraid it's the landlord, I wrap my bathrobe around me and answer the door.

Instead, it's Mark. Mark who? Mark, the neighbour who tried to help me move my couch out of my apartment a couple of weeks ago (a long and pointless story). He's a scrawny, older guy who I've seen around but never really talked to.

He's wasted, but his first words win me over: "Wanna smoke a joint?"

So I let him in.

My usual good judgement would protest, mainly because I hate people and social situations and once you've invited a neighbour into your house, you're suddenly required to invite them in all the time, and say hi to them when you pass, and ackowledge them and things. But it's been a while since I had pot, it's my birthday, and I've kind of been lonely in a really difficult-to-explain way.

Oh, so he was wearing a speedo and running shoes. And just came from Pride (so, maybe "solidarity" is part of why I let him in) and was smoking a cigarette that had about an inch and a half of ash.

The first few minutes of crazy guy Mark being my guest involved me trying to a) find something he could tap his ash into before it fell on my floor or (worse) my new furniture b) trying to get him to sit on the appropriate new furniture that I don't have to sleep on and c) being polite.

The ash fell on the floor, he sat on the furniture I wanted him to avoid, and I must have failed to be polite, too, because he then asked if I could so kindly provide an ashtray for my guest.

There was about 90 minutes of awkwardness that I'd love to describe in detail, but the basic story is he kept trying to hit on me, kept asking me if I was "married", when I said I had a boyfriend he'd keep asking me how long we've been dating, when I told him how long he would say "Oh, but he's not your HUSBAND! It's not like he's your HUSBAND!" At one point he lft, because I didn't have any cigarettes, and he came back wearing only a jock strap.

He tried to kiss me, to sit on my lap, to "hug" me in that special way. I was able to rebuff him with varying degrees of discomfort, and basically none of that really bothered me much (except for being polite....I hate not knowing how to be polite in a given situation, and it's really fucking uncomfortable to "politely" peel someone off of you when he's all but naked and you've spent the night pulling your bathrobe tighter and tighter around yourself for protection), but what bothered me is that he started to become an angry drunk around one particular issue.

Crazy Mark's points were threefold: 1) I'm not really in love with the boyfriend. 2) The fact that I'm in a long-term relationship shows that I don't love myself and I'm not really happy. 3) I should sleep with him.

I could handle this, but after about 90 minutes of putting up with it, he started to get fixated on how I lived. Why did I live -here-, he kept asking, if I had a HUSBAND? Who lives -here- if they're legitimately in love?

I live in a boarding house, basically, and you don't have to read all that far back here to know that a boarding house is 3 steps up from some of the places I HAVE lived. I've -struggled- to put something like a life together, and while I don't really parade that around these days (maybe a bit on this blog), it's a point that I'm -very- sensitive about.

I am NOT going to defend my living arrangements and my life to some asshole who knocked on my door at 3am and dares to tell me I'm not "happy". Who spent more than an hour telling me that the man I love is an asshole, and NOT EVEN FRICKEN ROLLING THAT JOINT!

So, after he'd started demanding that I "go and stay with your HUSBAND! If you're in love why aren't you with your HUSBAND!" I politely asked him to leave.

I said, "Mark, I think it's time that I ask you to leave."

He pretended not to hear, so I stood up and said "Mark, I am politely asking you to leave." (by putting "politely" into my sentence, I showed how classy I am)

He protested and tried to act hurt. I interrupted and said, "Mark, you came to my door at 3 in the morning, and while I could have shut the door in your face, I instead invited you in and gave you a drink. I am now asking you to leave."

"Can I at least have a drink?"

"I gave you a drink already. Now you have to go."

He fumbled with his lighter and cigarette pack, and then stormed out, as if I'd offended him more than he'd been offended in his life.

-This- is why I prefer to live as a recluse.
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(no subject) [May. 25th, 2009|09:23 am]
So last Tuesday I went clothes shopping, mainly because I'm heading back to Halifax for a week, and it's a proven fact that if I look like I have my act together, my parents are 200% more bearable, and "new, nice clothes" falls under their estimation of "having one's act together."

The attempt, though, was pretty demoralising. I'm back to being my Biggest Size Ever, the waist size that I was at around 8-9 years ago when I first moved to Toronto. That, plus, I'm the heaviest I've ever been in my life.

None of the clothes I tried on would fit, except for an over-sized pair of shorts that made me look like somebody's granddad. There's kind of a threshold in clothes sizes where manufacturers stop making things that look good, and I've passed that threshold.

I don't think I'm being over dramatic when I say that I was pretty crushed. I'm not surprised, really, because with the exception of that boot camp thing in March (I dropped out halfway through April) and some sporadic trips to the gym, this past year has been over-full with couch-sitting, pizza-delivering, and beer-swilling. I've been feeling pretty ugly and gross, on a subliminal level, but the clothing experience brought it home.

So, for this last week I've been on a mission. I've done between 60 and 90 minutes of physical activity every day, and I've been eating healthy food (including making nice salads to take to work). I've quit drinking (I had 2 glasses of wine with the boyfriend saturday night, but that was it). I've been getting to bed early, and getting full nights of sleep.

Short-term, I'm going to take another stab at shopping tomorrow, in the (probably futile) hope that I may have gone down 1 pant size so that I can actually fit into something other than the granddad shorts.

Long-term, my 32nd birthday (and gay pride) are at the end of June. Other than 1 day in Halifax (next friday), I'm off the booze until then. I'm going to keep up the excercise with the goal of getting 90 minutes of activity (any activity) a day. If I can keep it up until the end of the month, maybe I can keep it up to the end of the summer, and maybe the end of the year.

I hope so. I don't really want to be miserable and back to hating my body like I did when I was younger, but I'm kind of there right now. I have to find ways to make a healthy lifestyle sustainable for me, because this unhealthy one isn't working, either.
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(no subject) [Apr. 28th, 2009|12:29 am]
Been fighting that good ol' anxiety again, lately. Primarily it's so far kept me from actually going to a new rugby club practice. I'm fine until two days or so before the practice and then I can feel the anxiety levels rising. So far, I've "napped through" 2 practices. Napping is a great avoidance technique, in case anyone is interested. You get to avoid the event AND you get to be incredibly well-rested. The only down side is that you miss a lot when you sleep the same hours as a cat.

Tomorrow I intend to break the rugby practice cycle and actually go. It's going to suck for a bit, and I'm going to feel awkward and out of shape and ugly and too-gay-for-the-straights, but I've got to do it. I don't grow except through challenge, right?

In infinitely better news, it looks like I'll be going camping again this May. I love camping, even if it is in a very polished gay campground with an actual nightclub and every possible facility you could possibly need. There's just something awesome about sleeping in a tent and waking up at dawn and cooking everything with an open flame. Mmmmm...bonfires....
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(no subject) [Apr. 20th, 2009|12:29 pm]
Happy 420 day everyone!
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(no subject) [Apr. 10th, 2009|02:59 am]
So, I'm up late reading one of the most awesomest awesome books in the history of awesome, Pride and Prejudice and Zombies, by Jane Austin and Seth Grahame-Smith.

A snippet:

"[Elizabeth] said she would amuse herself for the short time she could stay below, with a book. Mr Hurst looked at her with astonishment.

"'Do you prefer reading to cards?' said he; 'that is rather singular.'

"'I prefer a great many things to cards, Mr Hurst,' said Elizabeth; 'Not the least of which is the sensation of a newly sharpened blade as it punctures the round belly of a man.'

"Mr Hurst was silent for the remainder of the evening."
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(no subject) [Apr. 1st, 2009|08:42 am]
Boot camp continues to kick my ass, however I'm pretty sure that this session (my 2nd) is a little bit easier than the first.

In other news, there's been tons of work drama, and I dodged a bullet by not getting fired, although everyone's schedules have changed and at best I'll be able to make only half of any rugby practices, and I -still- can't register for any evening courses becuse my evenings have work in them. I also get to see the bf less frequently, which sucks. Once or twice a week isn't quite enough for me, but we're either working and/or tired so that it's impractical to see each other more than that.

Other than work and boot-camp fatigue, my life is incredibly uneventful, which is a good thing. It's how I like it. I still have bouts of feeling like everything is about to crumble around me, so I need to keep working on building some sort of a safety net (which, at this point, will likely be wiped out when I do my taxes) so that I don't have to worry so much...

I imagine, though, that if things can continue ons they are for another year or so, I might actually be able to have hopes and dreams and goals and things. Yippee.
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(no subject) [Mar. 27th, 2009|08:34 am]
So today was results day at the fitness bootcamp thing I've been doing the last 4 weeks. I've pretty much got better numbers on everything, so here, for your reading pleasre, are my before nd after assessment results:

March 2:

Measurements

Weight: 266.2
Body fat%: 38.5
Biceps, relaxed arm: R: 13.5 L: 14.5
Biceps, flexed arm: R: 15.5 L 15
Chest (at neeples): 15.5, which I assume is the digits transposed, should be 51.5
Waist (under floating rib): 49
Pant size (actually just under belly button): 49.5
Hips (largest part of ass): 50.5
Thighs: R: 22.5 L: 23
Calves: R: 16 L: 16

Fit Test

Pushups in 60 second: 34
V-hold (sit on ass with legs and torso in air): 20 seconds
Plank hold: 1 minute
Squat Hold: 52 seconds
Sprints (time for 4 laps): 40 seconds

Comments: My biggest worry is the fat%, as that's a pretty large number and is probably my biggest concern healthwise. Beyond that, it was kind of depressing to know that I'm barrel-shaped.

And now, the results from today...

March 27

Measurements

Weight: 264 (loss of 2.2)
Body Fat %: 36.1 (loss of 2.4%)
Biceps, relaxed arm: R: 14 (+.5) L: 14.5 (+0)
Biceps, flexed arm: R: 15.5 (+0) L 15.5 (+.5)
Chest (at neeples): 49 (-2.5)
Waist (under floating rib): 48 (-1)
Pant size (actually just under belly button): 49 (-.5)
Hips (largest part of ass): 49.5 (-1)
Thighs: R: 23 (+.5) L: 23.5 (+.5)
Calves: R: 17 (+1) L: 16.5 (+.5)

Fit Test

Pushups in 60 second: 40 (+6)
V-hold (sit on ass with legs and torso in air): 53 seconds (+33s)
Plank hold: 1 minute 27 seconds (+27s)
Squat Hold: 1 minute 13 seconds (+21s)
Sprints (time for 4 laps): 37 seconds (-3s)

Comments: I'm still barrel shaped, but it's a slightly smaller barrel. Over-all I'm happy enough to pay for another 4 weeks of this. This time I'm going to make some minor changes to diet, mainly just by trying to keep a food log and to maybe eat a little bit healthier (I've cut down on delivery food, but I shouldn't be eating as much "boxed" and pre-made dinners as I do). I'm -really- glad to see that the body fat went down, and I think that if I do keep my diet in check, I may be able to get it down another 3 points by the end of April, so that will be my goal.

Now, I'm going to have a nap before going to work.
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(no subject) [Mar. 13th, 2009|11:38 pm]
I just want to commemorate today as the day that I passed the $1000 mark with my savings. This is probably the first time in my life where I had a personal savings amount in the 4 digits.

I'm almost 32 years old, so that's kind of shameful. Most of the people I was friends with in high school now have houses, families, investments....they're probably each worth a few hundred thousand on paper.

So this is kind of a bitter-sweet accomplishment, I guess. On the bitter side, I can look back on my life and, regardless of where stuff beyond my control went wrong, I made choices that I knew better but took the wrong road anyway. According to what I expected when I was 14, I should be a neurosurgeon earning several hundred thousand a year by now. Even more modestly, I could have been a degree-holder, working in a profession, not having spent tens of thousands of dollars on booze*, and having a retirement plan, a savings plan, and who knows what else.

On the sweet side, though...

It's not necessarily "sweet", because I can feel how thin that membrane between "savings" and "screwed up" is, but...for the first time in my adult life I am not living paycheque-to-paycheque. I have, if I live like a monk, an honest month between a last paycheque and having nothing at all.

I am desperate for that level of security. I've lived hand-to-mouth, on the charity of others. I'm not sure if I can do that again. I hated myself. Hated myself.

I don't need millions of dollars or a comfortable life. What I need is financial security. I'm pretty much within the pay-range that I think I could be happy with (well, at the low, low end of such a range). All I need is the assurance that I won't ever need to sleep on friends' couches again.

And today - even though there's no one else I know who will quite understand - I've earned one luxury I haven't had in about 5 or 6 years: a sense of relief, of financial safety. If even for a month.





*It has to be in this area of magnitude. There have been years of my life where I spent $100-$150 a week on alcohol, and, aside from the 14 months where I wasn't drinking, I've probably spent minimum $30 a week on booze even when I was being "good".
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(no subject) [Mar. 8th, 2009|08:32 pm]
This is a part of that whole "time speeding up" thing, I guess. The whole thing with Dave passing...being at his funeral...seeing people who matter so much to me...

It's almost spring now, and the summer will fly by, and it'll be fall again, and who knows where I'll be then.

I want to drink up everything I can about my life. I want to appreciate as much about it as I can.
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