Great, What Now...

Sorry all, but I'm warning right now that this is going to being a whinny post.
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So after a weekend of me going out, doing nothing strenuous to body other than standing walking and sitting, my feet are in pain. A lot of pain.

I can't stand for more than 5 minutes before my feet feel burning, stabbing and hurt in general. Even if I sit down or put them up to rest, I can still feel a dull pain.

I'm frankly hitting the end of being able to stand all this injury bullshit. I understand that my 1 leg/foot was hurt from my [incredibly stupid] jump, as posted here. I get that it took about 1.5 months of crutching around for me to be able to slowly walk around normally. Now, why the fuck are both my feet hurting and why is it so bad that I can't even spend 10 minutes chopping/cooking up some meal without my feet really hurting me. All I'm feeling right now is anger and frustration because my body is weaker than a 3 year old's.

An appointment with my family doctor has been set for about 1.5 weeks from now. I'm no medical professional (I wait, I sort of am!) but my best guess is that the arches in my feet have some how miraculously exploded. I've never had arch problems before. One foot (the injured one) was actually resting/healing for the last 1.5 months while the other one was taking all my weight and constantly feeling perfect. It makes no fucking sense!

For now, all I can do is sit and lie down and do nothing...which for me is the worst fate possible. I can't go biking or walking around. I can't get back into yoga. I can't lift weight (since holding the dumbbell puts weight on my feet). I can't see friends, unless they come to me. I can't continue planning my hiking trip in the Adirondacks. All I can do is work, watch tv, eat and ruminate about how I hate my feet.

Anger isn't helpful to me - Okay, scratch that, anger can be EXTREMELY helpful to me, but only if I have an outlet. Problem is that I specifically can't do anything, it just stays in me, so I feel depressed and sad.

This sucks; I feel like it's going to be My Summer Of My Discontent. Even writing this post pisses me off.

Round 2

Revenge of the ugly pink shirt.


I look awesome. It's all in the bow tie - Tim recognizes that.


I get the impression that if I were to look at the shirt pattern long enough, an image would pop out, just like pictures from those Magic Eye books. Using my illustration skills, this very well could be the picture hidden on my shirt:

It's a cat!

Of course, one might be surprised by this instead:


...Maybe I should patent the Magic Eye shirt?

New Friends?

New Lesbian Friend: Next time I go out with my girls, you should come. We'll help to introduce you to some nice guys.

Oh shit that's cool, if it happens...but wait, should I let her know that every lesbian I've known immediately ends up hating me...
...No, I shouldn't. She's cool maybe it won't turn out like all the others....
...Quick, smile. She's waiting for a response! Look polite and excited by the idea....don't scare her away...quick Thomas, respond!

Me: I'd love that. Just to warn you though, I'm like the most awkward person ever though...like, it's impressive. Everyone thinks I'm either awkward or hitting on them - I'm just that amazing,

Nice Thomas, nice and smooth...good ol' foot in the door.

My Friends Can Have My Stuff

Humming a tune to myself, while just walking along. Just enjoying the sunshine and being outside, meandering up and down the streets.

I'll cross the street, but won't get to the other side. My head manages to turn just in time to see the car that's going to hit me.

The driver tries to brake, but the car had too much speed. The bumper nails my knees perfectly, sling-shooting my torso and head straight downward into the windshield.

And that is that; the end.



Ya, that might be how it all ends for me. It doesn't bother me at all. The whole situation just seems right. For the longest time, I've just had this feeling that I'm going to die young. Young being a relative word, the age 31 comes specifically to mind.

I have no idea when this thought came to me, nor the specific number 31. I don't have a death wish. I'm also not suicidal. I'm just....sure, for the lack of a better word, that I'll die due to some circumstance outside of my immediate control.

The car scenario seems like a likely cause, but I don't know how my final scene will unfold. For all I know I'll get jumped on the street, during a walk home from a bar. Maybe it'll be a baseball bat to the face that cuts me out. Or maybe I'll just be some clumsy fool who'll trip down some stairs and land the wrong way.

A friend of mine tells me she's amazed she has lived to the age of 24. When she was 18, she was sure she's be dead by now. Her young life has been a testament to living by the code of drugs, sex and rock&roll. Maybe I subconsciously stole the notion form her.... who knows.

What I do know is that I'm okay with it. Why worry about the end if I can't immediately avoid it.

"You're a Sick Fuck!"

Mike: blah blah blah.

Mike's Girlfriend: blah-blah, blah-blah.

Tim: Uh-huh, Blah. Blah-blah.

Being temporarily bored, I decided to just say the most random shit:

Me: OH YA? WELL IT'S WORSE THAN WHEN [Mike's Girlfriend's Mom] JUST START FISTING HERSELF IN THE PUSSY, SCREAMING OUT AND THEN [Mike's Girlfriend's Dad] RIPS OFF HIS CLOTHES, TAKES THE DOG AND STARTS FUCKING IT IN THE ASS WHILE RUBBING IT ON [Mike's Girlfriend's Mom] ASS, AND THEN [Mike's Girlfriend's Brother] STARTS LICKING ON SUCKING ON HIS MOM'S TITS, WHILE REACHING AROUND TO FINGER HIS DAD!?

Everyone just looks at me shocked: wide-eyed with mouths hanging open for 3 seconds. Then Tim bursts out laughing.

Hehehe. Man, I'm one sick fuck.

Some People are Dumb

Taxi Driver: What concert did you just come from?

Me: It's a group called Animal Collective.

Taxi Driver: Are they from around here?

Me: Naw, they're from the US...they're a electronic type of group...

Taxi Driver: I BET IT'S LIKE ALL MODERN MUSIC KIDS LIKE THESE DAYS. THEY JUST KEEP SAYING FUCK SHIT FUCK SHIT! HAHAHAHAHAHA

Me: uuuhhh...

Taxi Driver: AHAHAHAHAAH, FUCK SHIT FUCK SHIT

Me: uh..hehe...hehe...

Taxi Driver: THEN THEY GO BACK TO THEIR SCHOOLS WITH GUNS AND SHOOT PEOPLE. HAHAHAHA

Me:!!!

Taxi Driver: SOON TEACHERS WILL BE TEACHING BY PROJECTING THEIR IMAGE ONTO A VIDEO SCREENS, AND THE STUDENTS WILL STILL PROBABLY BRING GUNS TO SCHOOL AND SHOOT THE SCREENS.

Me:........

Taxi Driver: Ya know why kids are like that these days? Parents are too lenient with them. They need to smack their kids around to teach them a lesson.

Me: ..... Yaaa.....

A Night Out

The Animal Collective went was darn good. Not amazing, but good. Half way through the concert, they apologized for the intense feedback that their speakers were making, which explained why a lot of their music didn't really sound like any of their songs... But that's not exactly unexpected for a band that relies heavily on synthesizers/electronic instruments.

A part from the music, Mike, Mike's Girlfriend and myself were very entertained by the other concert goers. Maybe I'm stereotyping, but I always assumed the band members were high on mushroom when writing/playing their songs. Maybe that's right and maybe that's wrong, but that stereotype DEFINITELY extends to people who like their music. This one guy, in front of us, was freaking out the whole time: shooting his hands in every direction, dancing between songs, grabbing and screaming nonsense at this one person who might have been a friend or just a really tolerant stranger. Mike's girlfriend decided to continuously poke him when he wasn't looking, throughout the concert. I think it actually started to make him paranoid...which I think is awesome!

On my own part, my eyes kept following this blond haired, hipster guy, with lots of earrings. He was surprisingly taller than me and was getting his groove for the whole show. Man, did I want to make out with him! Was he into guys? Who knows! He was hot though...

My foot lasted up the night alright. It started hurting for about 2 hours but then the pain subsided mid-through the concert. There was no chance of me sitting down for the concert, so I was putting all my weight on the good leg. I downed a few beers, so that's probably why the pain disappeared, which let me bust out my dance moves. The next morning my foot wasn't tender though, so it means my injury is at least healing itself slowly.

Hurray for my declining cabin fever.

My foot will [hopefully soon] be able to do it

Xav: There is talk of silo action tomorrow, for sunset.

Me: Oh man, I reeeaalllllllyyy want to go BUT I CAN'T BECAUSE OF MY STUPID FUCKING FOOT, AKJRHKAJRMAKRNMNAR.

Xav: Woah there yojimbo. Someone with a fucked up foot shouldn't be climbing so many stairs.

Me: Ya.....

Great. So I had to skip out on the first abandoned building adventure of this summer. The silo would have been the below picture.


Come on Foot!
You can do it!
Come on Foot!
There's nothing to it!

(Anyone get that Arcade Fire - Laika song reference? No? Ya, I've been sitting on my own for too long...)

Arcade Fire - Laika
As always, I don't care about the video image. It's the song that's important.

Recovery UnProgress

FUCK YOU FOOT.

GET FUCKING BETTER.

STOP HURTING MORE, TO THE POINT WHERE I CAN'T WALK WITHOUT CRUTCHES AGAIN.

NO, I DON'T WANT A SHOOTING PAIN INTO MY KNEE.

IF YOU DON'T GET BETTER SOON, I'M GONNA BE PISSED.

I WANT TO HAVE FUN AT THE ANIMAL COLLECTIVE CONCERT FRIDAY, WITHOUT HAVING TO STAY SEATED... YOU BITCH.

Savage Love

About a year ago, Alicia sent me a link to one of her favorite internet columnists: Dan Savage from Savage Love. This person has been writing a not-so-vanilla sex & relationship column for about 10 years. Although now a growing public figure (he does appear on CNN from time to time when they talk about gay or anti-gay issues), he initially became popular for his hilarious and asshole replies that he would sometimes give out to people who asked for his advice.

Since Alicia introduced me to the site, I've do check back on it from time to time and I always find it super entertaining and interesting to read.

I've decided to link you all to my favorite article from his column archives:
http://www.thestranger.com/seattle/SavageLove?oid=532280
It's about gay teenagers and coping with being gay/hiding you're gay. I don't love this article for the humor or odd situations, like other weeks' entries, but more for its sadness.
If you've read my blog since the beginning, or if you feel like reading it from the start right now (DO IT!) you should know that I have an odd fascination and attraction to sorrowful, trouble and distressing things. I'm pretty sure it relates back to most of my feelings from my teenage life; I just feel like I can relate well to those emotions. I'm not a sad person today, but that doesn't mean that I don't understand. This is also probably why I love to route for the underdog.

Well, the article I've linked is a prime example of people who've been pushed into an ocean on their own, and need to fight against the giant crashing waves without a real hope for someone to save them - at least, not for a while. Dan Savage's replies are definitely good for the situations, but it shows sometimes you just need to bottle up all your feelings inside of you and just run full steam on the rage, anger and hate that comes from inside of you (and from outside of yourself too). That rage, anger and hate might just be the one things that keep you alive and going.

Don't worry, this post isn't all doom and gloom though. The article I linked to also has a nice little ending. The last entry, Savage includes in that week's article, just shows that not everyone has to go through such bad things.

I hope you all learn to love the Savage Love column.

Bring It All Together

As of late, I'm been feeling like Mike and I have been drifting further and further apart as friends. By coincidence, tonight led us to hangout, amongst a groups of friends, without "the usual chaperons of Tim and Xav".

We had the chance to speak about ourselves, call each-other out on minor misgivings and then chat about the going-ons about our greater-groups: urgh, we both disapprove of Keiran and Tim moving in with their respective girlfriends, after it being very clear their women have serious problems and that this is only going to end in horror: Tim has been dating his girlfriend (who I admittedly luv) for about 3 months, and now they've moved in together. Keiran has been seeing his girlfriend for about 1 year, assuming you discount the 3 times she broke up with him - which means their on-off relationship has been extending for 2 years. Man, how do I let my friend do this to themselves...

Then we ate delicious, delicious poutine.

I feel like everything is a little better between us.

Looking Back

Mike: "Remember back in highschool, when you passed my chemistry exam for me?"

Me: "Haha, Oh ya..."

Mike decided that this was a good time to recount this story to the group of friends:

So [Friend] and I are sitting in a classroom on our own, trying to do the make-up exam to pass the chemistry course. We're both really bad in Grade 11 chemistry (Quebec students graduate from highschool at Grade 11) and we had no idea what to write on the exam we were given.

Thomas then walks into the classroom. He knows we're doing our final tests and there isn't any teacher supervision so he essentially decides to do the test for us. (Chemistry and highschool in general for me were really easy). So he starts listing off the answers in sentences, for us to copy down as he says them.

Our teacher, Mrs. [Teacher], then walks in and sees us two and Thomas. She looks over at him and asks if he's helping us on our tests - Thomas looks over at her confused and says that he wouldn't help us cheat. He then walks over to some containers of magnesium strips and tells her he was just playing around with he chemistry supplies, since it was the last day of classes.... Maybe she bought the excuse or maybe she could have just given less of a fuck (she was pretty awesome that way) but she walks out to another class.
While trying to light magnesium stripes on fire (Ow, my retinas!) Thomas then goes back to dictating the answers to the tests' questions. Because of Thomas, [Friend] and I both managed to pass chemistry.

My reply:

Me: "Hehehe, I'm awesome!"

Boners

I loves it:

www.awkwardboners.com

The name says it all.

Cute random boner person

"This guy is proud of his boner. I don’t know where this picture was taken - a hotel room, or perhaps some kind of ship’s cabin - but either way, he’s showing it off to anyone who happens to walk past his room. More evidence that Awkward Boners is succeeding in turning the boner from a source of embarrassment into a beacon of pride."

I never got/don't get the awkward boner stuff. My penis just doesn't do that to me - but then again, when I have a hard-on it doesn't shoot up toward, pointing at my head, but instead just kind of points forward, while still hanging downward.

And that was Saturday

Mike: [Friend]'s ex girlfriend is coming to the bar, with her new boyfriend. [Friend] hates her so every time she walks by we're going to say out-loud how something smells so bad, in hopes that she'll hear us and think it's her.

Mike's Girlfriend: Urgh, it smells like old, unwashed jeans.

Mike: Urgh, it smells like bunch of pennies.

Liz: Urgh, it smells like armpits.

Other Friend: Urgh, it smells like waxing salon's garbage can.

Me: Urgh, it smells like a boat crate of illegal immigrants.

Mike: Urgh, it smells like vagina filled with a guy's splooge.

Liz: Urgh, it smells like child birth.

Mike's Girlfriend: Urgh, it smells like Arab men hitting each other with dead fish.

Mike: Urgh, smells like an orgy.

Friend: Guys, I am so proud of you all.

And it kept going until I almost died from laughter. We are so mature.

I'm so glad I can [relatively] move around again to see friends.

He's Back

Yesterday was my first day walking around without crutches. My foot and leg are sore - not so much as remnants from the injury but from the atrophy of not using that leg.

Naturally, I hung out with friends all day long and then drank excessively that night. I'm back to my old self!

I had to teach someone this morning in French. The French part isn't so difficult, but I'm not familiar with all the medical language that I needed to use in French. 3 or 4 times I had to take a moment in the meeting to just laugh out loud at how poorly worded I was saying some things.

The participants thoroughly enjoyed it. They may or may not have noticed I was hungover.