The Doom That Came to Cowtown

I was looking back on my Dreamwidth and noticed that I did one of these exactly one year ago. So let’s do it again.

First off, last year sucked. T started off well - I was socializing semi-regularly, I was in a good mental place, and I was comfortably employed in a job I liked and was good at. None of that is true anymore.

The first start of this (though I wouldn’t realize it until months had passed), was that my players bailed on my D&D game. This was in March. They were all feeling stressed from upcoming finals (half the players are post-secondary instructors), so I told them to take a break and let me know when they wanted to start playing again. As of now, they haven’t.

I could nag them, but then that puts me in the headspace that, if I have to nag them, they don’t really want to play. And if they do play after nagging, they’re only doing it to humour me. I don’t want to be a burden on my friends.

July, I got laid off. This triggered a solid month of constant anxiety which only really ebbed away when I took a road trip to the coast. And aside from two hot tips from a friend, I have done sweet fuck all to get a job. I’m depressed, and that depression is manifesting as the complete annihilation of my Executive Function. Every day I sit down at my computer to start applying for jobs, and every day I just… don’t. On the bright side, I may hold the world record for most games of Klondike played.

I barely leave the house. I haven’t gotten any exercise since the fall. Haven’t even done my “daily” morning stretches in six months. I’m about 70 pounds overweight, which not only puts me well past “monster”, but actually intersects even worse thresholds that I’d rather not discuss. Walking to the store and back winds me.

The loneliness has gotten worse. Oh, the Philosophy nights help, as does having a roommate who isn’t a jerk. But I want a partner, and I know I’m never going to get one. And given my current mental, emotional, and physical state, that’s probably a good thing. I don’t want to be a burden on my friends, I certainly don’t want to be a giant mass of pain and neediness to a potential partner - why would I do that to someone I love?

This also coincides with some personal revelations about what kind of partner I am on those rare occasions when I’m with someone. Women who partner up with me very rapidly decide that wasn’t a good idea. Since I generally favour smart women, their judgement must be sound.

I’m in a state where I have to be very careful around my friends. I want to relax around them, but I also don’t want to accidentally pour my grief out on them. Keeping it in is mentally exhausting; letting it all out will drive people away because nobody likes an Eeyore. Therapy? Good in theory, not so great when I have no income and no health insurance.

As a final slap to the bag, I finally caught COVID just after Boxing Day. I still have a dry cough that could be developing into bronchitis. Just 2022’s last little gift to me.

Anyway, the solution is clear:

All I have to do is start eating better.
All I have to do is start exercising.
All I have to do is apply for jobs.

Simple, right? Who couldn’t do that?

So there's this joke I'd heard. Guy goes away on a trip, leaves his friend to housesit and look after his dog. A week into trip he calls his friend up to make sure everything's all right.

"Your dog died."
"Jeez man, you can't just up and tell a man his dog has died. You have to give him time to process all that. You should have told me that the dog had escaped from the yard; that he was hit by a car; that you took it to the vet, who did everything he could, but it wasn't enough; and then you tell me that my dog has died. Good grief, aside from that, is there any other news?"
"Your Grandma escaped from the yard."

So why am I telling you this joke? Well, it all has to do with my upcoming trip to Japan. Anyone who has been paying attention to the news knows that they're getting hit with COVID-19. It's already affected my trip and made me scramble to make alternate plans - our cruise got cancelled, so we needed non-cruise accommodations and activities. This actually suited me fine since the cruise aspect was my least favourite part of the trip, but it did mean I could spend quality time with friends, so whatever.

Anyway, about two weeks ago, my fellow travellers contacted me to let me know that Japan had escaped from the yard.

Which is to say they were giving me advance warning that they might cancel the trip. But in my heart, I knew that this was a done deal. They were going to cancel, even if they did honestly believe that there was still a chance. Anyway, last weekend while I was in Las Vegas, they contacted me again to let me know that the vet couldn't save Japan. Sigh.

So now it looks like I'm going to Japan by myself. Except it won't be by myself - I'll be taking all of my demons with me, and they love nothing more than for me to be isolated on a trip. And not speaking the language? That would be a unique and wonderful opportunity to feast on my brain without interruption. Aokigahara forest, here I come!

Now if I had time to work myself up to it, I could probably still have a good time by myself. When half of the country is shut down, not so much. As of today, all of Tokyo's museums (including my bucket list candidate, the Ghibli museum) are closed until the middle of March. Hell, they closed all of the public schools early.

At this point, I'm keeping my options in case there's some Hail Mary Pass event that gets me travel companions. Something like Canada dropping the level-2 travel warning back to level-1, or I win the lottery and can afford to just buy plane tickets for someone amiable.

More likely I'm going to cancel the trip. Again. And that's making me think that it's never going to happen. I mean, it was long odds that I convinced three people to do it in the first place, and they actually spent the money to do so, rather than just claim they'd think about it. I really wish I had a partner.

Financially, most of the trip is refundable. I'm likely not getting back one hotel room, or my Rail Pass. I hadn't gotten around to booking my tours. Air Canada will likely let me transfer my flight to somewhere else, for a fee. However, if Japan earns a level-3 travel warning, my insurance kicks in, and I claim all of that back. So this will be expensive, but nowhere near as bad as it could be.

So assuming I don't go to Japan, what do I do with my vacation? Australia is an option - I have a friend who has to travel there for work, so I could potentially go at the same time, and while we wouldn't be spending huge amounts of time with each other, I wouldn't be isolated. Camping and road trips are always a possibility - I did enjoy my trip to Eastern Canada last year, and all that was lacking was more time. I could stand to spend more time in Toronto/Ottawa/Montreal.

I'll give it a week, then put it out of its misery.

--- March 12th ---

And I've cancelled all my hotels and flights. I've got about $600 worth of non-refundable stuff, which along with my $600 dollar travel insurance puts me about $1200 out (better than $10K, but still). If the government issues a level-3 travel notice for Japan, I'll just be out the insurance.

SCA coronation is this weekend. I'm thinking about going. I'm also thinking about not going, and therein is the dilemma.

The event is sufficiently far from Calgary that if I go, I'm committed to going for the whole weekend. I could potentially bail on Saturday, but it would realistically need to be before 5pm for me to make it home before midnight. Even then, I'm reluctant to do a six hour drive that late in the day - it seems like a recipe for dying in my sleep like Grandpa.

What's driving this is loneliness. with the exception of the occasional outing with close friends, the last few weekends have been about me finding distractions from being alone. While I'm largely tolerated or ignored in the SCA, there are a few people who enjoy my company and I could hang out with them. Plus, I could do some shooting, and basically be a spectator at the other activities. It would just be for the day since I'd get in late on Friday and leave early on Sunday. That's a short enough time I could just buy a pizza and throw it into a cooler and have my meals dealt with. A couple bottles of beer and a book and I could just treat it as mundane camping.

The downside is that anxiety could screw me. I don't get as many depressive incidents as I used to, but the one a few years ago in London was bad enough that it still haunts me. It was especially bad because I felt trapped. Having an escape plan for something potentially triggering is one of my ways of coping, and being trapped at an event combines the negative aspects of both of those things.

Another downside is that I'll have to deal with some people and situations I'd rather not deal with. Mostly this will be "where have you been" questions with varying degrees of sincerity. Oh, and archery shenanigans, but since my marshal card lapsed last summer, and the OGGS doesn't like me, it means I'm just some guy with a bow. I like shooting. Shooting without drama would be even better.

But I've had a good time at plenty of events. It would be nice to shoot with no pressure (the kingdom Archery championship is on, but I won't vie for it), and a former friend I'm still fond of is getting elevated, so that would be cool to watch. Not enjoying myself should never be the plan.

And if I don't go? Well, I'll second guess myself about that decision - that's always fun. And I'll be lonely and bored all weekend. Again. But those are known evils.

I'm leaning toward going. If I do, I'll take Friday off and pack the car that morning, leave around noon and get there around supper time. As for being trapped, I found out Wainwright has motels and a movie theatre, so I can spend Saturday night there if things turn awful.

This could answer my internal question of if I'm in the SCA anymore. And to be clear, I could end up enjoying myself and still decide I'm out. Having a good time is not the key issue here. As my friend M put it, there was no longer an M-shaped hole in the SCA for them, and so they were done. If there's no James-shaped hole, I'll be done.

I'm turning 50 in a few days - two-thirds done, I guess. That gives me an opportunity to reflect upon my life. I hate reflecting on my life.

( It's been awhile since I posted emo bullshit. Feel free to ignore... )

I find I'm not missing SCA events. I'm certainly not missing council or tavern. Council because I found over the last few years that I kept butting heads with someone who's simply not worth the effort. Tavern because about half the time I'd go there, I'd find I wasn't actually talking to anyone, I was standing against the wall wondering what was wrong with me.

That sort of social isolation had a habit of happening to me at the big events too. Especially if they were "foreign" events, and I didn't know many people. I've never been that good at meeting people. I often joke that extroverts get to know more people in six months of the SCA than I got to know in six years.

One astonishing moment came when an SCA old-timer told me I was an old-timer, pointing out that I had been in the Society for (at the time) over 12 years. I couldn't deny his logic, so why did it still feel like I was new.

Lord knows I've got a ton of accomplishments in the SCA: Seneschal, first kingdom archery champ, only person to have the Brass of the Minotaur. I'm happy with all of those. But I know I'm never getting anything else. I no longer really serve, so I'm never going to be a Pelican. I'm not a combat archer, so I'm not going to be OGGS. I'm OK with that, because I'm not willing to go through that extra effort. And that's OK too.

None of this is really about the SCA really. I suspect any large social group would have the same problem. Lord knows there's people who've bent over backwards to include me - problem is those people are social butterflies.

"Hey, James! Come sit down!"
*brightening* "Sure."
"Oh, I just saw someone I need to talk to. I'll be right back."
*doesn't come right back*

Funny thing is, this weekend is the first event since stepping down as archery champ that I actually decided that doing nothing was better than going to the event. I haven't been to any events since stepping down, but all the others I actually had good reasons - visiting friends whom I never get to see, being on vacation, that sort of thing.

Aside: That it's an event requiring camping was another big factor. Just not up to camping this year. It's a recipe for back problems.

Related to all this is a weird thing I've noticed. Events that I don't go to? Social media suggests that those are all really good events. The sort that everyone raves about how they had an epically good time. The ones I go to never seem to have that kind of reaction. This is probably just confirmation bias on my part, but the impression is still there. I've had epically fun events, but not for a long time. I feel like I'm trying to catch lightning in a bottle, and everyone else has the knack but me.

A friend wrote:

"Sometimes we get engaged in certain activities or situations to satisfy a need, or benefit some aspect of ourselves. They become part of our routine, and may feel like they DO help out with whatever they're supposed to help out with. But then other needs arise or needs shift, or not enough spoons, and we realize that that thing we're doing is actually taking a toll."

Lots of wisdom there. For awhile, the SCA filled a need - or at least appeared to. Now, not so much. It's not that I'm having that need filled somewhere else, and I no longer need it. More that after thirteen years, I've come to the conclusion that that need probably isn't getting filled. My goal now is to attend events I want to attend, and not have it seem like a chore. It's been a chore for a long time now.

I am planning on attending some upcoming events. Baronial polling? Sure, I'll give my two cents. Hell, when it comes to my opinion, I'm happy to raise it from two cents to a whole dollar. Harvest Feast? Maybe - on the basis that I've never had a bad time at a Bitter End event. Samhain? Absolutely, if only to see a friend elevated to Laurel. After that, who knows.

And I'm going to keep shooting and supporting archery (I've agreed to run a Target Archery Marshal class next week). In fact, I may have solved my chronic injury issue tonight. That being the case, I'll be back semi-regularly.

I hesitate to write this, lest someone use it against me. That's happened to me before. It's happened to me in adulthood.

I have a few phrases that are literally triggering. One of them is when people call me "big guy". There are few things in this world that will fill me with an instant, incandescent rage then when people refer to me that way. Why? Because growing up it was the go to phrase for any bully who was trying to be friendly with me, either as the setup for extra-cruel bullying, or because they wanted something from me. To me "big guy" is exactly synonymous with "I think you're too stupid to realize I'm patronizing you, and if I don't get what I want from you, the next thing I'll call you is big fat loser".

I was 100% accurate with that assessment as of graduating high school, and it happened more times than I can count. If someone called me "big guy" when trying to be friendly, that friendliness was fake, and it would be followed up soon after with real insults about my weight.

I get called that occasionally in adulthood. They're probably just trying to be friendly, and aren't actually bullies. Still, the trigger remains. When it happens, I tell them, flatly, "don't ever call me 'big guy' again". When this happens, I generally get some kind of excuse along the lines of "oh, it's because you're so tall". No it's not. Some really want to argue that they didn't mean anything by it, and should be allowed to keep doing it based on their good intentions. No. I get to decide what I'm called and I have a perfectly good name.

The correct response is "OK, I won't call you that again". I don't need an apology, because (assuming a first offence) this is something the person would have had no reason to know was a problem.

Today, an old acquaintance did it online and I was literally seconds from unfriending/blocking them on social media. They agreed not to do it again when I told them not to, so the triggering event is settled. However, I was still an anxiety-ridden grouch for the rest of the morning because of it. Only getting out of the office for an appointment/nice lunch snapped me out of it. That's when I realized that this was a trigger, and not simply something I don't like. My emotions were out of control. Hell, writing about it now has got me all fucked up emotionally, but I feel I need to write this down as a first step towards it not being a trigger.

In conclusion, don't call me that. If you do, knowing this, we're through. People who do so unwittingly will be told not to (hopefully politely, but it will likely be terse even with all my efforts to not be a jerk about it).

So this all makes me anxious. And I mean that literally in the I just had an anxiety attack way. But still, I will try to explain myself.

Yesterday I was going through photos of this weekend's event. I happened upon one of myself. It was not flattering. Oh, the photo was well composed and shot (the photographer has a keen eye for candid portrait shots), but I wasn't aware of being shot, so I didn't do all the little things I do to make sure the picture is flattering. I didn't smile, or suck in my gut, or push my head forward. I was just standing there having just loosed an arrow. All I could see were my faults.

Coincidentally, I knew which end the shot was taken, and I had missed one of the shots (in the middle, and I got complimented for recovering the remaining arrows. If you're an archer, you know how hard that can be). I mentioned then that having any sort of talent means that you hit a stage where all you can see are your faults. I had several good shots that end, and one failure. All I could see was the failure. Likewise with the photo, all I could see was every feature I hate about myself.

There are photos of myself that I like. The avatar picture attached to this post for example, is the single best photo of me ever taken. I'm relaxed, having a good time, my smile touches my eyes and my hat is at a jaunty angle - what's not to like? Beothuk asked to take it when I was in the perfect mood to have my photo taken (notably, he asked first). There's a few others.

When I was younger, I was one of those folks who would admonish the photographer to not take my photo. Later I relaxed on this stance since it only pissed off a bunch of people who didn't stop taking my photo anyway. Go ahead and take my photo, I thought, so long as I don't have to look at it. I'd also try to avoid being in the shot if I was able. Turning my head, moving so there was an obstacle between me and the camera. Subtle things, I thought, until I realized that I was probably about as subtle as a six-year old's knock knock joke to someone with a telephoto lens aimed at me.

I've been battling depression recently (can't run due to a reoccurring back injury, just got a nasty reminder that a long hard winter is just around the corner), but hadn't quite slipped over the edge. Then I saw a photo of myself that I didn't like. Because I hadn't wished for it to be taken. Because it slapped me in the face with my flaws. Because everybody else this guy took a picture of looked luminous. Because of my demons.

So I though, fuck it, I'm going to go to bed. I'm tired and I recognize that this was going to upset me if I dwelled on it. And had I left it at that, I wouldn't be writing a therapy piece right now. No, instead I made a (what my tired ass thought was funny) quip about it.

God damn. Sometimes I forget how spectacularly ugly I am.
Must avoid cameras at events more.

And then I went to bed.

I woke up to find everyone had dog-piled on me. They had good intentions. They were mostly my friends, with a few acquaintances thrown in for good measure. mostly they admonished me about being hard on myself. There was also threats of violence.

Just a short aside about the threats of violence, then back to the main thread of my self-deprecation and its aftermath: Don't do that. I really hate it when people think saying "If you do that again, I'll kick you in the balls" is helpful. An old ex-friend used to do that all the time. He'd use vague unspecified threats (e.g. "If you do that again, I won't be held responsible for what I do next"), but still he did it. It was a shitty way of trying to deal with interpersonal problems when he should have just used his words instead. I still run into that jackass now and then. I've more or less resolved to call him on his BS if he ever does it again in my presence. Anyway, it reminds me of him is only one aspect. The other is that you're either lying about the threat, or you're not lying about it. Neither of these are things that friends should be doing. And yeah, call me on it if you see me doing it.

Ahem, where was I?

Anyway, I got a lot of "you're not ugly" in return. That more than anything else upset me more. Because deep down, I can't take compliments. I always think it's friendship-pity. And I always want to dig in and argue the point, as if being right is more important than trusting your friends. Still, it's not about being right, it's that the demons are fighting to survive, and their survival depends on me being miserable. Nothing quite like turning around every compliment into an insult.

And it's a surprisingly hard thing to break oneself of - hell, I've been self-deprecating about my being self-deprecating here in this article. How's that for a vicious downward spiral of emo bullshit.

When I was in elementary, I learned early that if people were blowing smoke up your ass, it's because they wanted something. Often that something was to simply make fun of you. When I was the school outcast, I'd occasionally have the cool kids befriend me. They'd pay me compliments and talk about how much they actually liked me. They'd do this long enough for me to help them with something, or share my candy bar, or just until I'd bought it so that they could make fun of me for buying it. "You actually think we liked you? Loser."

Obviously my adult friends aren't like that. I've got friends whom I've been through the wringer with. They've been through thick and thin with me. Still, my inner nine-year old remembers.

On the bright side, when the Alistairs of the world come knocking, I can spot them from a mile away. It's the primary reason I refused to let baby-crazy-girl get closer to me when she was briefly in the SCA.

Another thing I learned as a child? If you insult yourself first, it means the bullies can't. If you want to know the genesis of my self-deprecating sense of humour, that's it.

All of this is unhealthy and I have therapeutic techniques to deal with it. Countering thoughts ("No. your friends really do think you're average-to-attractive. Don't second guess them") for example. But sometimes I'm too tired to wield them.

A lot of this is a long-winded way of saying, complimenting me when I'm beating myself isn't that helpful. If you want to do so in the future, a simple "I like you", without qualifications is appreciated. If you say "I like you and you're attractive", my computer programmer's brain will go "Hmm, logically that evaluates to false because 1 & 0 == 0".

I appreciate all the concern folks - I just needed to vent. Now that I'm done, I'd rather not dwell on it more. Let's keep it to a single day so that tomorrow will be better.

I few weeks ago I fell into the orbit of someone else's drama. Thankfully it was brief. It did trigger some of my own drama (hence why I'm still thinking about it weeks later).

We were at a BBQ and I was chatting with some people and the subject of what you look for in a mate came up. I gave my usual generic response of "compatible, healthy, intelligent and funny" when someone outside the conversation interrupted.

"NO, that's NOT your ideal mate", she said.
"Pardon me?"
"I remember you talking to [someone years ago] and you said you're ideal mate had to be a willowy red-head."
"You might be misremembering that conversation."

For the record, I don't remember the conversation. Pretty sure I wouldn't have been that specific in a conversation about mate traits. I might have been asked for something much more specific like "if you could have any physical traits in a mate, what would they be". Like if I was making a request from a djinn or something. Anyway, I attempted to make that point to the lady in question.

"We were probably talking about perfect mates and there are no perfect mates."
"NO, you said she had to be a WILLOWY REDHEAD."

At about that time I realize that I had stepped into her drama and this really wasn't a conversation about me. She's just a person who has a chip on her shoulder about her (perceived lack of) looks and her weight. Which is why I don't bring up the topic of looks or weight with her. I really don't need to hear it since I've got my own issues with both.

As an aside, when I say that weight discussions send her off even in comparison to me that should give you an idea of just how bad it is.

The conversation got under my skin. Not just because of the confrontational nature of it (seriously, you don't have a clue what my hopes and dreams are, so don't claim that you know me better than I know myself), but also because people can change.

Even if I did have a hyper-specific ideal mate in the past, I've changed and what I desired as a younger man is not what I desire now. People change.

So what do I want now? Well red-heads are awfully nice. So are blondes and brunettes. So are women with hair dyed into colours that don't occur in nature. Actually that last one is rather appealing, especially if it's purple. As for looks/weight in general, well I have a few traits I find un-attractive and if you're healthy and lack those traits, I probably think you're good looking.

If I'm really generous, I've had quasi-romantic relationships with five women now. Objectively, none of them were perfect beauties, but when I was with them I was blind to their flaws. When each relationship was over it changed my criteria for subsequent ones and always for the better. I regret none of them though I often wish that some of them were longer.

I'm lucky to never have had a "psycho-ex", though I worry that the rules about cosplay and poker are the reason why. For those who don't know, the cosplay rule is: if you're cosplaying in a group and you can't figure out who the fat cosplayer is, it's you. The poker rule is: If you're playing poker and you can't figure out who the rube at the table is, it's you. Was I the psycho-ex? I can think of twice where I probably was. Thankfully, each was 15+ years ago.

When I'm imaging myself spending my life with a partner, I rarely define what they look like in my mind's eye. Better to focus on feelings and my own actions. I suspect this is partly because I don't want to imagine it in too much detail. I also try not to imagine it too often, because there's always an element of hurt. I can't think of it without also dwelling on how it hasn't happened and likely never will. I don't like thinking about that, but there are times when I can't help it.

One of those times is family holidays, which is why this came bubbling up on Thanksgiving. I've got the holiday-lonelies. I suspect this is going to be a bad winter. I'll need to hone the tools that keep depression away, I'll be using them a lot.

I took down yesterday's emo post. I wrote it when I was emotionally exhausted and don't really want a permanent record of it, even if it was behind a few filters. LJ stats tells me only a few people accessed it. None of them relevant to the narrative.

I am currently depressed. Not as bad as it could be (I'm functional) but it's still frustrating because the sources never go away. Eventually this episode will pass, but there will be others. Why can't mental injuries simply heal and not bother you anymore the way physical injuries do. I don't get "relapses" of my busted shoulder every year. The bullying ended years ago but the trauma and the coping mechanisms that keep me broken-but-functional remain decades later.

( A fairly detailed description of what I've recently put together about my emotional stimulus/response mechanisms... )

So when you say "You're not that fat", don't be surprised if I react like you said "your childhood bullying wasn't that bad". Or if your advice for when I complain about not having anyone to ask out is "Just join a computer dating service", don't be surprised if I find that advice as useful as "Just play a concerto or perform surgery".

Anyway, I'm not putting this out there to make anyone change their behavior (though understanding is always appreciated). It's more for me to be able to recognize it when it happens to me and try to react differently. The first step to not falling into a hole is to recognize that one is in your path.

Another year has come and gone and I think, with hindsight, that it was a good one. Not a great year mind you, but certainly a serviceable one.

What would have made it better was achieving either of my two perennial goals. This didn't happen. However, I did succeed in not worrying about this quite so much. I caught a small amount of shit for this though because it's unacceptable in this culture to have anything but a full out, balls-to-the-walls, positive attitude.

Anyway, I'm over half-way through the Birthday-to-Valentine's-Suicide-Season without any depressive incidents (knock on wood), despite the fact that my physical, emotional and social shortcomings have not gone away.

So I'll continue to work at losing weight and hoping for a relationship to magically appear. Meanwhile I'll continue working on accepting that it's not going to happen. If acceptance means less depressive incidents, it will be well worth it. Doesn't mean I'm going to give up - the journey is the point after all, and what else am I doing with my time between now and death? Do more things to enjoy myself now, instead of waiting for a partner that will never come.

Weight-loss is the part I have control over anyway, and the benefits only go up with age. I've reached a point where my weight is starting to affect my health (I suspect I have obesity-induced high-blood pressure and sleep-apnea). I'm back on the Weight Watchers wagon, but it doesn't seem too onerous - I just have to get in the habit of eating my fruits and veggies.

January was spent preparing for the Estrella road-trip.

Februarywas the trip to Estrella and Las Vegas. The highlight of that was really the road-trip. It's always nice to find that there are people you can spend 60 hours in a car with and not want to throttle them. Plus the big SCA war and Vegas debauchery was fun.

March, April and May were fairly routine. I went to some plays, watched a few movies, hung out with friends. I made an entry that hit over 90 comments, which is a record from my LJ.

June was witness to one of the best and worst SCA events I ever attended - and it was the same event. Coronet was epic and underlined everything I like about the SCA. The Curia meeting that followed underlined everything I dislike about how the SCA operates. It was so bad it made me take a break from service for several months. I feel a little bad about that because I agreed to be on K and mommaquilter's retinue, but then proceeded to do absolutely SFA. I'm hoping to give them a hand at Estrella this year to make up for it. I still stand by my assertions about the SCA bureaucracy however.

Also in June was AT War, which is fun, but too short to go to unless you do what I do - combine it with a mundane trip to Vancouver!

July was my trip to the East Coast (Halifax and St. John's) for H&B's wedding. The company was good and I got to see lots of cools stuff I'd have had a hard time getting around to without the excuse of a wedding. I ran to the top of Signal Hill, which I feel deserves more recognition. If you've ever walked up Signal Hill, you'll know why. Next time, more days in Halifax and less in St. John's.

August started off with Quad War, which was fun. Later SCA stuff in the month showed that I was still irritated by it.

September involved a lot of introspection and cat shit - thankfully not simultaneously. Also learned what not to do to my brain chemistry.

October had a variety of small events: I ran a half-marathon in Victoria, had Thanksgiving dinner with my Vancouver peeps, Calgary got a new Mayor and othelianna had her once-a-year party.

November was my birthday trip to Las Vegas - it was so much fun I'm already planning my next trip out (probably a week or two after Victoria Day, in case anyone's interested).

December was mostly about the holidays.

Goals for the New Year:

• Eat better and exercise more - test this by posting a better time in this year's RV½M.
  
• Estrella War.
  
• Go to Cancun for naughtynat07 and thekillerb69's wedding.
  
• Attend conejita_diabla and thebrucie's wedding and be as helpful as possible seeing as how I'm in the wedding party.
  
• A return trip to Las Vegas.
  
• AT war and a summer visit to Vancouver.
  
• Other SCA events to include: Anything in Montengarde or Bitter End, Quad War, Whipping Winds. Be generally helpful at them. Avoid Curia at all costs lest it spoil another six months of fun.
  
• A half-marathon in Las Vegas?