I guess I understand why people hurt themselves when they're sad (no I didn't cut myself on purpose, I just tripped and road rashed my knee). My Ex said she did it because it was easier to focus on a physical pain instead of an emotional one and I understand that now partially, I don't think I'd ever resort to such a thing although it's kind of helping me now. I guess you're wondering what I'm talking about.
These past few days kind of had me thinking about my ex and just relationships, love, and all that stupid shit. This thread on reddit sparked me thinking about it I guess. The topic was "If you could relive one thing, what would it be?" and about 40-50% of the answers were for someone's first love or the first time they had sex and such and such. It sort of depressed me about my train wreck of a first time. I sort of feel gypped. I knew I was infatuated with her, very much so in the beginning of things, and I'm with almost 100% certainty that I loved her at one point, why would I feel so intensely otherwise? I'm sort of mulling about in my own thoughts about what is considered love and the differences of young love, first loves, and all sorts of "loves". I've had this discussion before with the ex before and it never turned out well because we're too different in our thought process. I'm not arguing with myself in my head about these conversations anymore so I'll shut up.
The first time having sex for me was not exactly what I would call ideal, nor would any of the other next times I had sex. It might have been a combination lack of enthusiasm on both of our parts and pain for her, although I have some problems I'd rather not discuss here. Basically, it was in and out a few times, she said she was hurting almost tearing up in her eyes (no, I'm not hung like a horse or anything) and then we stopped. Very lack luster for the build up and I couldn't help but feel disappointed, she asked if it was good/fine. I said it was, not meaning it at all, in my head I kept asking "Is that it? Is that what sex is? This sucks."
The only 3 times I think I've had good sex...or at least moderately okay sex was drunken no condom sex with the ex which was only good because it was my first uncovered time having sex, more excitement over that than anything; "morning" sex with the ex when she woke me up from a nap with a blowjob that led to very enthusiast sex on both our parts, that's a good memory that sticks in my head; and then the sex with Amanda.
I don't think I had sex too often with the ex, she gave me more blowjobs than anything which was awesome, but I think I would've liked sex more if she liked sex more. Again, I feel gypped with my first try. I sort of regret it...I do regret it...the whole ordeal with her is one big regret. Although I guess I did learn some things (relationship-wise, not sexually...I'm book smart about vaginas.) I know what I don't like in a person, I know that I should think about what makes me happy and that if I'm not happy with a relationship I should either fix it or end it, and I know that I don't need a relationship to be someone that's happy.
Either way, the pain in my knee has often flared up when I sort of get to thinking about these things (thinking about them will usually put me in a downer mood) so I get distracted by the pain instead of continuing on the train of unhappy thoughts. Hmm... what else is new...
Nothing sadly...It's starting to get to me, the constant nothingness... My social life is non-existent excluding the weekends which are heaven to me because I'm doing shit, even if its the same shit I'm still doing it with other people. I wish we were going to parties though...meeting people and such. Although this upcoming weekend or wednesday or something like that we might be doing something with our friend Tom which would be great since he's a social butterfly which we can parasite off of to leech friends from.
Fuck I need to clean my room... I might quit Diet Coke...again. Drink water instead and such. Ugh, there's only one can left anyways. I think that works out to about 32 in 5 days.... which it like, 7 a day, that puts me over my guess of 1.5 liters a day and instead drops me at 2.5 a whole 'nother liter. Sigh, but I like it so much...today I noticed a difference in taste, I actively thought about quitting and I noticed that it tasted kind of fucked up. Willpower is hard to keep...or even think about. I have the worse work ethic of anyone I know. I just can't stick to anything. I have to constantly be thinking about it if I'm going to not do it...or maybe the reverse of that, out of sight out of mind? I don't know, I guess I can just limit myself to weekends and such. Ugh.
What else? Hmm...I'm going to go to bed and have a thousand thoughts swim around in my mind and I'll wish I could of written them down here but I can't think of them now. I guess that's it then.
-Marz
Friday, 27 May 2011
Sunday, 15 May 2011
The New Me
Lately I've been thinking about College/University. Mostly in terms of my image. There's a line in Undergrads (a TV show I love) that mentions you can completely change yourself when you get to College, the character talking about it was this punk looking chick who used to be an uptight Asian nerd type. That kind of change makes me wonder if I could do that, or more importantly if I want to.
To those wondering, I've often labeled myself as a nerdy type of person. Although I sub-label myself a dork. The Nerds are the people you see in the library studying every other minute and being very smart, the Geeks are typically either of the band type or the computer type, and the Dorks are the pale kids playing card games in the basement.
I don't really have a problem being a dork, at least a dork to the people who don't know me because that's typically what you would've seen me doing if I wasn't in class (or if I was supposed to be in class, because card games were more important than ignoring teachers who are telling us to listen). The only problem is that the negative connotations with "squares" and that could lead to a problem gaining friends. Although I've heard there's little to no cliques in College, that's just a guess and I'm assuming its a more party friendly High School. Of course I didn't really party in High School until near the end where we sort of broke out of our nerdy image and instead of skipping class for cards it was to go downtown (so we can play cards where people can't see us). This led to a more "slacker" image being broadcast to the people. I enjoyed it because others looked at us in a different light, it's almost weird thinking about it now because I can tell the behaviour changes towards me from people between the nerd and slacker eras.
The slacker was again a negative image, but it was negative in a different way. People don't hang out with Nerds because they'll tarnish they're image by being with the loser kids who don't see themselves as losers. They don't hang out with slackers because they don't want to be caught up in a bad crowd with the people who choose to be what the majority call the "losers". This of course breeds a well deserved sense of superiority in myself because I've told myself that High School doesn't matter as much as some people make it out to be. The real proving ground is College and University. I'd say I was half-right.
The entire point being that I don't know what I'd like to be, and I won't say I need to "find myself" because I'm right here, I know who I am, its the other people that don't know. I need to broadcast an image that shows them who I am. I guess that's achieved by "being myself" and some more after-school special messages. The sad thing is that not everyone is going to see me, or even if they do they won't like me for me. I just have to understand that people who don't like me aren't people I should be associating with and aren't worth being friends with. It's a lesson most people probably know but don't put into action, I know I've forgotten about it from time to time. This in itself is what creates confidence. You knowing that you're you and that nothing else really matters. Who cares if the stereotyped captain of the football team doesn't like you? Do you like him? No? Well then fuck 'em right? Exactly.
So I guess that means continue to be me. That title doesn't make any sense now.
-Marz
To those wondering, I've often labeled myself as a nerdy type of person. Although I sub-label myself a dork. The Nerds are the people you see in the library studying every other minute and being very smart, the Geeks are typically either of the band type or the computer type, and the Dorks are the pale kids playing card games in the basement.
I don't really have a problem being a dork, at least a dork to the people who don't know me because that's typically what you would've seen me doing if I wasn't in class (or if I was supposed to be in class, because card games were more important than ignoring teachers who are telling us to listen). The only problem is that the negative connotations with "squares" and that could lead to a problem gaining friends. Although I've heard there's little to no cliques in College, that's just a guess and I'm assuming its a more party friendly High School. Of course I didn't really party in High School until near the end where we sort of broke out of our nerdy image and instead of skipping class for cards it was to go downtown (so we can play cards where people can't see us). This led to a more "slacker" image being broadcast to the people. I enjoyed it because others looked at us in a different light, it's almost weird thinking about it now because I can tell the behaviour changes towards me from people between the nerd and slacker eras.
The slacker was again a negative image, but it was negative in a different way. People don't hang out with Nerds because they'll tarnish they're image by being with the loser kids who don't see themselves as losers. They don't hang out with slackers because they don't want to be caught up in a bad crowd with the people who choose to be what the majority call the "losers". This of course breeds a well deserved sense of superiority in myself because I've told myself that High School doesn't matter as much as some people make it out to be. The real proving ground is College and University. I'd say I was half-right.
The entire point being that I don't know what I'd like to be, and I won't say I need to "find myself" because I'm right here, I know who I am, its the other people that don't know. I need to broadcast an image that shows them who I am. I guess that's achieved by "being myself" and some more after-school special messages. The sad thing is that not everyone is going to see me, or even if they do they won't like me for me. I just have to understand that people who don't like me aren't people I should be associating with and aren't worth being friends with. It's a lesson most people probably know but don't put into action, I know I've forgotten about it from time to time. This in itself is what creates confidence. You knowing that you're you and that nothing else really matters. Who cares if the stereotyped captain of the football team doesn't like you? Do you like him? No? Well then fuck 'em right? Exactly.
So I guess that means continue to be me. That title doesn't make any sense now.
-Marz
Wednesday, 4 May 2011
The addiction is a saving grace
I know a lot of my friends would say I'm addicted to Diet Coke. That's probably because I am. But I am because it serves a purpose to me. It limits my weight gain from drinking awesome tasting pop, it keeps me awake, and it allows my brain to have a crutch to lean on. It's a security blanket type thing I guess. Either way this is the time it comes in handy.
So I guess I should start with the most interesting thing in my life. My friends and I got fucking caught shoplifting by the fuzz...or to actually be correct, a team of private investigators working for the store.
See, my friends and I aren't that smart (in terms of common sense that is) and decided to ransack the same stores, at the same times, almost 4 weeks in a row. Cause you know, we're awesome criminal masterminds who are invincible, young and daring. For those of you interested this is how it worked: Calvin was the hands who would grab everything and drop it in the backpacks that myself and Steve were carrying. Steven was the main backpack, his being bigger and the fact that he was shorter made it less noticeable that Calvin dropped shit in there. My role was easy, stand there and block views in case people saw. I thought I was okay at it, I guess not.
We walked in, standard shit. Everyone went to our favourite aisle and we knew we weren't buying anything (all broke). We got to our aisle which had an unusually large amount of people in it, we kind of danced around and talked to kill time until it cleared up. I noticed an old balding man and a younger looking college kid walking together. They happened to cross our aisle maybe 3 times. I didn't think much of it at the time. Calvin juggles powerade bottles, I enjoy the thought that I showed him how to do it (juggle that is). The aisle is clear, he shoves the bottles into Steve's bag. I get closer to the other side of the aisle, I feel two packages of Kit-Kats slide into my bag, these make a distinct and loud noise. I think we're going to be caught. I wake to the edge of the aisle as Calvin is about to put more into Steve and I not so casually ask about Seinfeld (our unofficial warning signal). I make the mistake of mentioning the "Tippytoe" episode specifically. In retrospect I guess these are all omens of the coming times.
Anyways, we walk to a different aisle and I ask about buying chips. Less suspicious and I'm hungry for something other than chocolate for the 4th weekend in a row but no one has money. I notice the pair of guys again, maybe they looked at me, maybe they didn't, I had an uneasy feeling but attributed it to the fact that I was stealing. We started to walk out, Calvin walking a fair bit in front of us, Steven a bit behind me, not wanting to walk alone I wait for Steve to catch up and we walk out the door together. As we walk out we notice some guy trying to get out the "in" door of the store. (Side note: We'd seen many old people get trapped by this exact scenario and laugh our asses off but we figure we might as well stop and try to help, we're legitimately good guys, we just wanted free candy and mix). Anyways we half take a step towards him to help with the doors/tell him he's in the "in" doors when he busts free and grabs Steven. Steven instinctively recoils back (strange old man grabs you, you jump) and because of a flinch he's flipped and taken to the ground in which turns into a headlock. It's at this point I hear the words "You're under arrest!". At this point I contemplate running, I know the neighborhood and the shortcuts (I used to live near there), but I figure that Steve just got taken down hard, that young guy looks fast and running only hurts the charges that will be put against me. Plus why should I abandon my friend now, if I was in this situation alone I'd break down.
The cop and Steven struggle, Steve wants his glasses (he's pretty much completely blind without them) and the cop continues to yell about resisting. A teenager walks over and says that the cop is using a bit excessive force as a crowd gathers to watch. An idea appears in my head, I could elbow the manager and the young cop (both standing next to me doing nothing to secure me) and then possibly incapacitate the other cop to allow myself and Steve to run. I think better of it, maybe this young guy knows how to take a sucker punch. Either way, we're finally settled and taken through the store, I think to myself that I must look badass/like a scumbag being hauled through the store for shoplifting. I catch a glance at the hot cashier I was ogling earlier.
We're taken upstairs to an office. Steven and the older cop argue about identification and how he couldn't hear. He's visibly angry with us, I feel like I'm stoic, I mostly know I'm caught and I can't do anything but this is a first offense for a little bit of merchandise. He takes out the leaking bottles from Steve's back pack and un-cuffs him. The young cop checks my bag and grabs the Kit-Kats and tells me to grab the remaining stuff out of Steve's. I do as I'm told. The young cop tells us something about being caught and leads us into a bigger office. Steve and I take seats at a round table as the young cop continues to read us our rights and then fills out paperwork. I laugh to myself about the bizarreness of it all. I never expected to be caught (obviously). To calm myself down I ask whats the worst that can happen. The young cop says "What did you take? Some drinks and chocolate, it should be fine." Or something along those lines. This calms me down. I look to Steve who is looking at his shoes, he seems deep in thought or saddened, I could see both.
The older cop half yells at us. Saying we're lucky he's got the young guy doing the work because he's pissed. I laugh to myself (in my head because fuck da police). Cop drama tropes fill my head, Old Vet with the Young Gun; Good Cop, Bad Cop. I look at Steven and smile and he half smiles back. My coping mechanism to make myself and others laugh doesn't seem to make a good fit in this situation. The young cop asks about our friend (Calvin) and asks if he'd come back. I said I wouldn't expect him to come back "guns a-blazing" which I immediately regret.
"What did you say?"
"It was a joke..."
"Not the type of joke to be making now."
Yeah, I know, excuse me for being nervous Dickwad. Anyways, after giving them our information and Calvin's after a bit of a struggle (I try to protect my friends) they call the actual police to come and charge us because that's the law. I wait and listen to the radio, slowly identifying the songs and singing/dancing to myself. The older cops asks if I'm making light of the situation. I say I'm just trying to calm myself down (and also that he should go fuck himself with a cactus). Pretty sure he mutters something. The cop shows up, he's young. Steve and I look at each other knowing we're fucked now. We're being charged with shoplifting. The cop says "Oh, you're in the reserves (Steven)? They won't be too happy to hear about that." Does that sound like a threat to anyone else? Either way, we get our court date and shit and meet up with Calvin (Read his account at www.iwasnevergoodatnamingthings.blogspot.com) around the corner and tell him he needs to talk to the cop which he does.
When we're finally all free we drive to Steven's house, our previously illegally acquired booty still sitting in the back seat of the car. We sit down in this room. Go over the situation and our stories still reeling with adrenaline in our system. We take a few drinks, Calvin goes to bed and Steven and I end up staying up late playing Halo and watching comedy to calm ourselves down some more. Steven is visibly defeated by this whole ordeal but the comedy seems to have lightened him up and I try to cheer him up with my own jokes. The next night at his house we all get absolutely destroyed and drink the memories away at least for that moment of time.
Well...That's long. Fuck writing anymore, more diet coke, video games, and hockey please. I'll write life stuff later, I should have some other developments on this too (talking to lawyers Friday).
-Marz
So I guess I should start with the most interesting thing in my life. My friends and I got fucking caught shoplifting by the fuzz...or to actually be correct, a team of private investigators working for the store.
See, my friends and I aren't that smart (in terms of common sense that is) and decided to ransack the same stores, at the same times, almost 4 weeks in a row. Cause you know, we're awesome criminal masterminds who are invincible, young and daring. For those of you interested this is how it worked: Calvin was the hands who would grab everything and drop it in the backpacks that myself and Steve were carrying. Steven was the main backpack, his being bigger and the fact that he was shorter made it less noticeable that Calvin dropped shit in there. My role was easy, stand there and block views in case people saw. I thought I was okay at it, I guess not.
We walked in, standard shit. Everyone went to our favourite aisle and we knew we weren't buying anything (all broke). We got to our aisle which had an unusually large amount of people in it, we kind of danced around and talked to kill time until it cleared up. I noticed an old balding man and a younger looking college kid walking together. They happened to cross our aisle maybe 3 times. I didn't think much of it at the time. Calvin juggles powerade bottles, I enjoy the thought that I showed him how to do it (juggle that is). The aisle is clear, he shoves the bottles into Steve's bag. I get closer to the other side of the aisle, I feel two packages of Kit-Kats slide into my bag, these make a distinct and loud noise. I think we're going to be caught. I wake to the edge of the aisle as Calvin is about to put more into Steve and I not so casually ask about Seinfeld (our unofficial warning signal). I make the mistake of mentioning the "Tippytoe" episode specifically. In retrospect I guess these are all omens of the coming times.
Anyways, we walk to a different aisle and I ask about buying chips. Less suspicious and I'm hungry for something other than chocolate for the 4th weekend in a row but no one has money. I notice the pair of guys again, maybe they looked at me, maybe they didn't, I had an uneasy feeling but attributed it to the fact that I was stealing. We started to walk out, Calvin walking a fair bit in front of us, Steven a bit behind me, not wanting to walk alone I wait for Steve to catch up and we walk out the door together. As we walk out we notice some guy trying to get out the "in" door of the store. (Side note: We'd seen many old people get trapped by this exact scenario and laugh our asses off but we figure we might as well stop and try to help, we're legitimately good guys, we just wanted free candy and mix). Anyways we half take a step towards him to help with the doors/tell him he's in the "in" doors when he busts free and grabs Steven. Steven instinctively recoils back (strange old man grabs you, you jump) and because of a flinch he's flipped and taken to the ground in which turns into a headlock. It's at this point I hear the words "You're under arrest!". At this point I contemplate running, I know the neighborhood and the shortcuts (I used to live near there), but I figure that Steve just got taken down hard, that young guy looks fast and running only hurts the charges that will be put against me. Plus why should I abandon my friend now, if I was in this situation alone I'd break down.
The cop and Steven struggle, Steve wants his glasses (he's pretty much completely blind without them) and the cop continues to yell about resisting. A teenager walks over and says that the cop is using a bit excessive force as a crowd gathers to watch. An idea appears in my head, I could elbow the manager and the young cop (both standing next to me doing nothing to secure me) and then possibly incapacitate the other cop to allow myself and Steve to run. I think better of it, maybe this young guy knows how to take a sucker punch. Either way, we're finally settled and taken through the store, I think to myself that I must look badass/like a scumbag being hauled through the store for shoplifting. I catch a glance at the hot cashier I was ogling earlier.
We're taken upstairs to an office. Steven and the older cop argue about identification and how he couldn't hear. He's visibly angry with us, I feel like I'm stoic, I mostly know I'm caught and I can't do anything but this is a first offense for a little bit of merchandise. He takes out the leaking bottles from Steve's back pack and un-cuffs him. The young cop checks my bag and grabs the Kit-Kats and tells me to grab the remaining stuff out of Steve's. I do as I'm told. The young cop tells us something about being caught and leads us into a bigger office. Steve and I take seats at a round table as the young cop continues to read us our rights and then fills out paperwork. I laugh to myself about the bizarreness of it all. I never expected to be caught (obviously). To calm myself down I ask whats the worst that can happen. The young cop says "What did you take? Some drinks and chocolate, it should be fine." Or something along those lines. This calms me down. I look to Steve who is looking at his shoes, he seems deep in thought or saddened, I could see both.
The older cop half yells at us. Saying we're lucky he's got the young guy doing the work because he's pissed. I laugh to myself (in my head because fuck da police). Cop drama tropes fill my head, Old Vet with the Young Gun; Good Cop, Bad Cop. I look at Steven and smile and he half smiles back. My coping mechanism to make myself and others laugh doesn't seem to make a good fit in this situation. The young cop asks about our friend (Calvin) and asks if he'd come back. I said I wouldn't expect him to come back "guns a-blazing" which I immediately regret.
"What did you say?"
"It was a joke..."
"Not the type of joke to be making now."
Yeah, I know, excuse me for being nervous Dickwad. Anyways, after giving them our information and Calvin's after a bit of a struggle (I try to protect my friends) they call the actual police to come and charge us because that's the law. I wait and listen to the radio, slowly identifying the songs and singing/dancing to myself. The older cops asks if I'm making light of the situation. I say I'm just trying to calm myself down (and also that he should go fuck himself with a cactus). Pretty sure he mutters something. The cop shows up, he's young. Steve and I look at each other knowing we're fucked now. We're being charged with shoplifting. The cop says "Oh, you're in the reserves (Steven)? They won't be too happy to hear about that." Does that sound like a threat to anyone else? Either way, we get our court date and shit and meet up with Calvin (Read his account at www.iwasnevergoodatnamingthings.blogspot.com) around the corner and tell him he needs to talk to the cop which he does.
When we're finally all free we drive to Steven's house, our previously illegally acquired booty still sitting in the back seat of the car. We sit down in this room. Go over the situation and our stories still reeling with adrenaline in our system. We take a few drinks, Calvin goes to bed and Steven and I end up staying up late playing Halo and watching comedy to calm ourselves down some more. Steven is visibly defeated by this whole ordeal but the comedy seems to have lightened him up and I try to cheer him up with my own jokes. The next night at his house we all get absolutely destroyed and drink the memories away at least for that moment of time.
Well...That's long. Fuck writing anymore, more diet coke, video games, and hockey please. I'll write life stuff later, I should have some other developments on this too (talking to lawyers Friday).
-Marz
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