Dependencies

Talking of my detox, got me to thinking about dependencies. We really do brainwash ourselves into thinking we need something, when we could live perfectly well without it. Honestly, giving up anything you love, or even, have grown accustomed to, is a challenge; but eventually, you need to challenge yourself "just cuz" and when you do, why would you cheat, if you'd only be disappointing yourself?

I think it's funny what you realize you're addicted to something. Alcohol, drugs, assholes. Those are the main ones. But even the little things like lying, driving, routine...

It just makes me think about how easy it is to change things, but no one feels it necessary until it's borderline too late. You don't remember what it's like to wake up not-hungover. You think working an 8hr day without a joint is impossible. You don't know why you feel guilty cuz of him, but you do. You bury yourself in your lies, hoping to not get found out. ect ect.

But hey, I've acknowledged that I don't need Jack. But I'll still go out and drink, so maybe I'm a hypocrite for even writing these thoughts.

Catching up.

Hey all. It's been another few weeks of hectic bullshit work stuff, with a splash of family coming to visit; and in my stress-filled-state, blogging just wasn't a priority. Go figure.

When hanging out in my bed and getting my shit together the next few days, chances are I'll vent about life as a whole and the little things that irritate me, and give some updates in general.

A little bit of what's been going on: About 6 of 7 weeks ago after a trip-went-wrong to Fort Mac for a promo, where I had officially out-drank myself, I came back to Calgary vowing to do a detox. No booze, minimal pop & energy drinks until Stampede. Considering I've only consumed whiskey, diet cola and red rain the last 3 years or so of my life, (seriously, no water, no juice, no milk) this seemed like a valid challenge.

The detox went well, other then putting an even bigger halt to my "numbers game". The game which is now pretty much non-existent as personal crisis' and a non-buzzed state made me completely disinterested. Note to self: start it back up again.

I followed my rules of staying sober through the "hardships" (*rolls eyes*) of my life, with the exception of shot, on Canada Day, after a stressful day at work and dealing with drunk-ards on Stephen Ave. I walked into a bar, got a shot of JD with a side of coke, then promptly walked out. The shot went down into my stomach with a mocking tone, reminding me the whole time as to the reason I went onto detox. It sat in my throat through half the ctrain ride tone, with the chase barely helping. And as I walked home, I was a bit content with the way it had gone down. I had began to wonder if I missed drinking as much as I had brainwashed myself to think. If, when I started drinking again, I would just fall back into my old ways, as if denying my body what it so desperately wanted. But my body didn't miss alcohol as much as my mind. I didn't want to do another shot, I was happy detox would last one week after that, and I was happy with my having accomplished it.

But detox is over now. Let's be honest: I'm nowhere near as hardcore as I was previous to it. I'm a full out lightweight when I go out these days, which may cause some problems for the upcoming wedding, cuz... who wants to see that sober! So... detox... check.

Next?

Psycho

A few months back, the roomie posted the definition of "psycho" on her fb page, and we all laughed at the fact that a friend of mine was dating a guy who matched this description. Since some time has gone back and she is no longer "with" him, I thought I'd share the insanity that surrounds the outside of my social circle on a semi-regular basis. I'm not one to get into anyone else's business, unless it's for random gossiping around a round table full of booze. That, I do indulge in. I'm straight up a self-absorbed person and I'd rather talk about myself than anyone else. Hence this blog. It all makes sense now, doesn't it?

So, a couple weeks ago, while hanging out in my bedroom late at night, I get a phone call from The Magician (my friends ex). I instinctively put it on "silent" as it was midnight, he's not a friend of mine, and I wasn't in the mood to chitchat. (What you don't know about "The Magician", is that he is the possessive-jealous type that used to call his girlfriend consecutively a record number of times). Apparently this trend has carried on to her friends, cuz at 12:09 I get a second phone call, and a third at 12:12. At this point in time, I shot a txt to my friend (his ex) to make sure she was alright, cuz the phone calls were unjustifiable. No out-of-the-ordinary response from her.

I proceeded to get another call at 1:30 and one more at 2:12, all the while wondering why he wouldn't just txt me with what the issue was. Finally I get a txt: "I'm calling because your friend is talking about killing herself". Another txt right after, and one more after that. Since I knew she was alright and just upset at shit going on in her life, I ignored all calls and txts from the Magician, until it got ridiculously late and I txt'd him simply saying "Lose this number"

The response: "Wow. What kind of friend are you? I call and tell you that she says she's gonna try and kill herself and you can't even find it in your heart to see how serious this is? You should be happy that I care enough about your friend to try and do something. Deleting your number now. Sorry to have bothered you. Won't ever happen again"

Then he proceeded to call the cops on her.

Just to clarify: I'm a bitch. I care about myself more than I care about you. I'll be brutally honest to the point of hurting your feelings and won't feel remorseful if I make you cry, because it was probably justifiable in my mind. But I am not a bad friend.

I'm not the person who's shoulder you could come and cry on, and I hate hearing you whine about life. But you're allowed to vent. And 99% of the time, I'll drink it off with you until you pass out and are ready to face another day.

My friend, was having bad day, and said "I wanna die", not "I'm going to kill myself". Normally I would've drank with her, but I was on detox, and pre-occupied (with a boy!). I checked up on her, neither one of my other roommates got a distress call, so clearly it wasn't all that serious. But for this asshole to call me a bad friend for the 2nd time in my short few months that I've known him... that's bullshit... and so it got me thinking. (read newer blog for my random thoughts. It'll be more light-hearted than this one)

Paranoia

Paranoia is such a foreign concept to me... like compassion... yeah I've heard of the term and maybe have seen others go through phases of it, but it never really registered with me.

I'm the person who likes to hitchhike in foreign countries, and travel by myself. I climb mountains without a harness and never really think twice about anything bad happening. And when something goes wrong, I'm the first to justify it. To find an explanation, even if it may be unreasonable.

When "bad stuff" happens, I do one of two things: I ignore it, and continue on as if nothing happened and life is perfect. Or I walk away. I move to a different place, or I distance myself. But never have I experienced a feeling, where bad stuff happened, and therefore made me paranoid afterward. I've never had the need to be suspicious of everything and everyone, doubtful that they were telling me the truth and unsure if I could trust them.

Nope, that's never happened before. That's probably why I've had about 6 wallets/purses stolen and my jeep broken into like 10 times, while parked in the same parking lot. I shrug it off and go on thinking that it won't happen again.

But now, for the first time in my life, I'm terrified that stuff might "go wrong" again, and am paranoid.

I just don't know how all you paranoid people out there deal with this feeling everyday? I mean, a couple hours and I feel sick to my stomach, I can't imagine this on a regular basis. I must fix it.

wut up?

how I spent my weekend.

A Chase Around the City

Amazing Race meets Fear Factor, but it's called CityChase and has been happening in Calgary for 3 years. With over 1100 participants this year, my partner and I decided to join in on the action and try to finish within the first 150 teams.

Backstory: I'm not athletic at all. I could get to the peak of a mountain if I have a flask of JD with me, and no time-limit, but that's about as far as it goes. I'm not a runner (once I learned I can't outrun a bullet, or a bully, I stopped trying). Swimming is limited to: a) with a lifejacket b) in a hot tub c)when I dive into the pool and need to get to the ladder. And, after high school, I decided that I don't want to do any physical activity without getting paid for it. Yet somehow, CityChase sounded like a great idea to me.
A roommate of mine, and my partner in crime for the race has a bit of a better track record. She goes hiking often, has taken outdoor rec in school. She's trained for the RCMP in the last year, and has seen the inside of a gym in the last decade. But being sick on the weekend of the race (and having called into work the day before), we were in for one hell of a day.

"What have we gotten ourselves into" is the thought running through our heads as we leave the house in the morning. I'm wearing jeans, and she has some expensive sandals on. Our backpacks hold anything and everything: winter gloves, a flashlight, 3 energy drinks, clean underwear, and so we're off on our journey. 2 guys on the ctrain let us know we're in over our heads just by looking at them. They're dressed in their gear and look hardcore in their sunglasses. I could look hardcore too had I not registered the day before, or picked up our stuff. But after registering, and changing our team-name from "The Lakecomers" to "The Jack'ettes'", we eat some breakfast and point out "hey, at least we didn't bring a purse". We ignore the opening "warm up/stretching" exercises... amatures, and paranoia sets in when the announcer starts talking about a clue sheet that we don't possess. The strategy: make an alliance with some 40 year old ladies and just follow them all day.

The race begins: We run east along the Bow River in Eau Claire for about 3 minutes with the mass of people. Then we run out of breath and walk. We get to the clue sheet, read while walking to the C-Train and decide we're either headed to the Science Center or Kensington, depending on whichever train comes next. Kensington it is. We're in the cab reading clues outloud, and then meet our "alliance". A team called the "Keep it Simple Sisters" equipped with friends helping them on the other end, and a blackberry for all the secret info. Score!
Challenge 1: Running, reading maps and finding flags to spell a secret word. Those challenge fukers even thought ahead to create more than 1 map, more than 1 word, so that we couldn't cheat.Whatever, at least we know how to spell. Our word was "Check". Moving on.
Challenge 2: Wheelchair basketball. Wheelchairs, backwards, through pylons. Then score some baskets (without travelling... odd) and play a 2 on 1 game. Hilariousness, we're so gonna join a league! Challenge 3 involved paining bones overtop my skin at the science center Yeah, I looked ghey the whole day, but I wasn't the one that was gonna be naming them, so I decided to go with it.

Being moderately good at one activity, our next stop was Chinook, where we climbed up a rock climbing wall in no time at all, and after bowling with some wooden kart thing (stupidest activity of them all) we were on our way back downtown. But as we waited for a train, some teams told us of a park with 2 more challenges, we took off running again. At this point in time, we realized that our "alliance" were in much better shape than us. They could run, and we felt like we were holding them back. We let them go ahead and said we'd meet for a beer after. Then came Challenge 6: Frisbee golf. Chucking a Frisbee at a tree and having a penalty if you have to throw x-amount more than the alloted times. The penalty (like a harder pushup) sucked, so we cheated our way through it, and went on to our next and favorite challenge. It was a spider web type deal that we had to climb through, and though I got a bit dizzy, and got a wedgie, it was awesome.

I learned to play blackjack at the casino, saving my partner in crime from eating bulls balls. We rode a bus down 17th with about 80 more participants. Sang with strangers in a car at the top of our lungs, and stabbed potatoes while quoting unknown people, before heading back to the finish line. And out of 550 teams, we came in 146th!

After finishing the race and beaming with pride, I got some ice cream and went for a leisurely kayak down the river, hopped on the shuttle bus and went to the afterparty, where I stayed true to my detox and hung out with my partner in crime and the "alliance". Life is an adventure, and I wish I had more days like these. Days were you do things without thinking twice about them. Hell, I would've eaten a cricket, played with a teranchela, done some pole dancing, chained myself to a girl, or run up 52 fights of stairs. Next year I'll beat 11 challenges, or 146th place. Are you up for the challenge?

The Game that is my Life

So there I was... hanging out on cloud 9 as if such a thing happens everyday. I was walking around with a smile on my face, only thinking happy thoughts in my delirious state of "smitten-ness". Then one day, out of the blue, as I sit down on my hammock on cloud 9, I start to fall. The trees that the hammock was attached to were both sabotaged, cut like pencil points in the middle, the way you see on cartoons. Jack must've been around cuz I didn't even notice. I tumbled down in denial the whole way, not acknowledging the fact that I'd left cloud 9 and stuff had not gone the way I planned: perfectly.

I finally landed on cloud 6, justification cushioning that fall, still dazed from denial. Cloud 6 isn't a bad cloud to be on, it's the one in the middle that still allows for happy moments mixed in with the not so happy ones. But once you've been to cloud 9, you always want to go back. So why settle for the in between?

I took out my map to take a look at which way to get back to cloud 9 which I had gotten so accustomed to. From cloud 6 to cloud 7, there's the obstacle of truth. Truth is one of those sketchy bridges that you see in old movies. The ones made out of rope and wood, with half the pieces missing. With every step across you second guess yourself, but to make it to the other side, eventually you have to trust your judgement and just go for it.
After that, to get to cloud 8, you have the obstacle of trust. Trust is a rope that dangles from the sky. One of those ropes that kids use to tie to a tree and swing on to jump into the lakes. The issue with trust is that, 1. you don't know where it comes from and therefore, the likelihood of you getting hurt is great, and 2. it's not something that you could start and then change your mind on. Once you jump onto that rope and start to swing across, you better just jump off on the other side.
The last leg of the journey back to cloud 9 is the ladder of Forgiveness. A long ass ladder that seems like it goes on forever. Every step up makes you doubtful of your decision, and a few steps are even missing which makes you question continuing your climb. But at the end is cloud 9, so if you've started up the ladder, you can't logically turn back.

I sit here, cross-legged on cloud 6, looking at my map and contemplating a strategy for this trek. It's an overcast day... again. All these clouds in my way of the sunshine that shines a bit higher up. I think I'll attempt the voyage to the 9th cloud. What do I have to lose? I mean, I could fall down to cloud 2, but that's a risk I'm willing to take... just not right away, probably in a couple weeks.

Hanging in the Rain

You know what I love more than anything? Rain. When it feels more like fall than it does spring, and everyone is walking around all miserable as we all lived in Ireland rather than Canada. When the puddles and the overcast skies seem endless and my puddle filled skater shoes make my feet beyond frozen... that's what I love most of all. That's what today has in store for me.

A State of Distraction

I'm at one of those points in my life, when I really don't know when my next day off is going to be. I've recently started a promotion for Sony, then one for Telus, after which I'm doing one for RBC, then Sony again, and probably back to Telus. Although some of the work is totally fun and I don't mind doing it, I think back to last summer when all I did was work, getting roped into that obsession with money that people talk about. I have up my summer months not enjoying my friends, or the mountains nearly enough, and though my trip to Europe was awesome, I've regretted the amount of hours I had to clock in to achieve it.

I don't want to make the same mistakes this summer. I want to visit Waterton and hang in the mountains. I want to party at Stampede and go for random weekend getaways with my friends. I think that this year, I have to concentrate more on happiness than money, so that's my new plan.

The work couldn't've come at a better time though. After the week spent in a depression-like-state, I needed something to get my mind off of things. Everyday when I wake up to get to work, I roll my eyes at having to get out of bed for a reason, but appreciate being out and about when it does happen. So for the next month or so, I'll coax by distracted by work and obligations, hopefully with random adventures along the way.

Weekend 1: Citychase
Weekend 2: Official Camping Kickoff
Weekend ?: Waterton
Plan Set. Ready? Go!

A Whole New Low

Usually, when people are feeling "out of it" they show it in different ways.
Yes, there are the standard: be distant, stay in your room, stop eating ect. ways.
And everyone has a different way to break out of the funk.

I realized that I've hit a whole new low, after hanging out in my bed for days,
when the only reason I had to get out of bed today was to go see a MILEY CYRUS movie.

That's right, I showered, got dressed, and put on make-up to go see this, apparently 4/10 $3 movie. But hey, a distraction at it's best, as I spent the whole thing wondering why the acting is so unbelievably poor, and why I've seen this storyline more than 10 times before.
Good choice ladies.