The Doom That Came to Cowtown

Today feels like the beginning of a long hard journey. I've got a lot on my mind right now and the urge to just say "fuck it" is high. I won't do this though because quitting is an express train straight into depression. Here's the state of the James Nation:

Got back from a Rhuddglyn event that was a lot of fun. I won an archery tournament and flirted briefly with a cute girl whose name I can't remember. Gah! The food was awesome too. If 12th Night's meal is half as well received, I'll be a happy event steward.

The ride down was good because I got to just talk with thekillerb69, which I rarely get to do because we're usually in a group. Came back with minyata and falashad and got to play sing-along for most of the trip! I love traveling with singers!

Bought Rock Band Beatles and a pair of extra microphones. Now to get a bunch of people over to play through the game. I've already done this once over at thekillerb69 and naughtynat07's place, so for me this is all about the socializing and downloadable content.

Went back to Weight Watchers after two weeks of absence. I'm up about five pounds, which sucks big time. My weight is separating me from so much that I want, I really need to buckle down and lose it. It's so hard when the demons are always there to thwart me: "You know you're not going to really lose that weight right? So why not have a candy bar now - it's still better then the sex you're pretending you're going to get in two years time."

Love, sex, confidence, acceptance. Like air, they're not even worth commenting on if you're getting enough. Also like air, it becomes the center of your attention when you're not. I just hope I get some fraction of that if I ever succeed. The only thing that keeps me coming back is the certain knowledge that ignoring the problem isn't going to solve it.

I just lost $17K in a bad investment. Or rather, I lost it about a year ago and only became aware of that fact recently. My finances are still good - it all vanished from long term savings, so it doesn't materially affect me now. It might mean the difference between eating the regular and the premium cat food when I'm elderly though. Meh, it was expected, so I have no one to blame but myself.

There hasn't been any running for two weeks or so (since I got sick). I miss it so and intend to start again tomorrow (it would have been today but I neglected to set my alarm). At this point there is zero chance that I'll be prepared for the Royal Victoria 1/2 Marathon in October - I'll be at a point where I can run non-stop for 10 km and a half-marathon is a little over twice that. This won't stop me from attempting it mind you. My mule-like stubbornness won't let me take a break for anything short of a severe injury or swine flu. I'll look decidedly mule-like when I cross the finish line after running for 130+ minutes. Specifically, I'll look like a rented mule because I'll be beat.

I'm committed to running two events in the next five months. The first is the Baronial confidence polling, which is very important, so I don't want to fuck it up. The second is 12th Night, which is very important and has a large attendance, so I don't want to fuck it up. As 12th Night is also Montengarde's 30th anniversary, we want it to be really special. And already there's drama. Shoot me.

On top of all that, the house is looking worse and worse. I need to:

1. Clean up the garage so I can start some projects.
   
2. Clean out the laundry room so that it's not primarily a "get the junk out of sight by throwing it here" area.
   
3. Fix the rotting closet or hire someone to do it for me. I feel like it's something I should be able to do myself, but I've never done anything like it before, so I'm anxious as hell about it.
   
4. clean/vacuum my bedroom and the stairwell.

Finally, there's this little thing called work that keeps taking up a bunch of my time. I should focus on that during work hours instead of blogging here. Bye.

I've had two Robax and a Barley Wine, so be warned that I'm pretty fucked up.

A trait of my life is that I don't make friends easily. When I do make them though, those friendships tend to be rock solid. The latter part of this trait is something I'm very grateful for.

My friends seem to have a blind spot about this. They tend to forget the fact that sometimes the friendship took a long time to occur. I'm hearing all the time what a great guy I am (and not being in the middle of a depressive episode right now, I'm inclined to believe them).

The end result of this is that I have lots of female friends who are firmly in the just friends category. There's nothing wrong with that, but it does make me wonder what the hell is going on.

I started reading Blink today, it might have an explanation. I suspect my mate-less-ness is a direct result of sending out some kind of subconscious signal that there is something wrong with me. This signal is probably picked up by potential mates near instantly. And there's nothing I can do about it - it's connected to me on a fundamental level - even if I knew what the signal was, I probably can't do anything about it.

RAting someone for potential romance is one of those things that seems to be determined by the subconscious in a short amount of time. Evaluating someone for friendship takes longer. Thus I have two sets of largely separate traits. Ones that say "don't even think about having sex with this person" and ones that say "this is a true and loyal friend". This probably indicates that I'm stuck with the problem. That being the case, I should learn to live with it.

Of course, I'm pretty drunk right now. Does that mean I'm being irrational or does it mean that I'm allowing my subconscious to make correct deductions? As an INTP it offends me that our sub-conscious is such a powerful decision-making tool. However the evidence suggests that it's possible. I want to use the full force of my intellect and think that everyone else should too. Sadly attraction is not something in the control of the rational mind. Stupid brain.

conejita_diabla, othelianna and I went out for sushi. We were sitting at one table and at the next table (behind me) there were two cute girls. Having two cute girls at my own table I wasn't too concerned about this.

But conejita_diabla kept looking over at them with some concern. It was one of those I'm sure I know them but not from where moments. I did get a good look at both of them but nothing registered. This is not surprising since, being an extrovert, conejita_diabla is much more likely to know people then I am.

After dinner she went up to the woman in question and flat out asked her (another difference between the two of us - I'd have skulked away). After some back-and-forth it turns out that they had met briefly.

Returning, I was informed that I knew her too. It was C♯, the girl who, many years before had the distinction of giving me a Dear John letter before our first date. As I said at the time, that's got to be some kind of record. The intervening years have certainly treated her well as she's looking about ten times better now then she did then. So much so that I literally didn't recognize her at all. That's not supposed to happen. People who reject me for no reason are supposed to experience karmic revenge. Hollywood lied to me dammit.

Of course, maybe karma really does exist. I hope not - it means that I've been getting hammered by it for a long time, possibly due to being one obnoxious SOB in an earlier life.

In other news, we played Rock Band afterwards and it was fun.

Slowly recovering. I went for a run downtown, which helps a lot. Had a good sleep in my own bed which also helped. Venting helped, as did the positive reassurances that I'm not nearly as much of an ass as I believe. I am a little ashamed that I added to the LJ-drama in the world.

I'm debating whether to start organizing the garage and cleaning up the Quad War debris or to just take the rest of the day off with a pulpy thriller. I'm thinking couch potato.

Which is not to say I've not been busy. Yesterday after coming home I unloaded devoidofthought's truck, put all the stuff I was carrying that wasn't mine onto a table (so garething, stephtopia and othelianna, you can come get your stuff anytime) and then took the truck for a fill-up and wash, cause that's what you do when you borrow a friend's truck and drive it to hell and damnation for a week.

Pat Benatar in less then two weeks, as well as a trip to Tojo's and much-needed reconnecting with my Vancouver peeps.

Just once, I'd like to have some unique positive trait that I could point to and say "That right there - that's why I'm important. That's something no one else has. That's what makes me special."

I'm going off line for awhile. If it's important, don't use email.

Derek Balling has some choice things to say about how difficult it is for the chronically shy to date.

There ought to be a class for people who positively suck at talking to members of the opposite sex.

This thought occurred to me the other day. I mean, let's presume for the moment that you were not the sort of person to pick up that social skill-set during high-school. Where exactly are you going to learn it in today's society?

First impressions, especially on the topic of romance, are so terribly crucial, and if you screw it up, it doesn't matter how much chemistry you and the other person might have had if given the chance, it'll all be for naught because the first impression will have already been blown.

Meanwhile, you really have no constructive feedback loop on what it was that made it "not work" for them in the first place. Sure, you can try and approach the problem "scientifically", trying slightly variant versions with different people and seeing which ones garner the best/worst responses, but that's not exactly the point of the entire operation, and certainly isn't an efficient use of a scarce resource (that being "available members of the opposite sex")
...
Here's the worst part, in my opinion -- It causes you to doubt the value of the attempt itself. You start saying things to yourself like, "Why bother, it'll just be another annoying exercise in wondering what little thing I did wrong this time?"

...

http://blog.megacity.org/archives/2003/08/the-dating-worl/

K and I broke up tonight. It was mutual and with no hard feelings. We're still friends (and not in a cliched lets just be friends way either, I'm happy to say).

I was horribly bitter after my last two breakups. I had nothing to do with Girl #1 afterwards and the bitterness didn't leave until years later, ironically when I started dating Girl #2. I'm still friends with Girl #2, but it would have been the same as with #1 if it weren't for the fact that we were coworkers at Office Despot and had to spend time with each other afterwards. Despite the breakups, I'm better for having known both of them.

I regret not staying friends with #1, but circumstances would have made it very awkward.

I point this all out to contrast it with the noticeable lack of bitterness or animosity this time around. I like not being bitter.

K, I know I said it tonight, but I think it bears repeating: It was fun while it lasted!