dal niente

Month: October, 2009

Babies that kill

I’m not sure how this is relevant to me working in a pediatric hopsital, but something in my bones tells me it sort of just is.


October 29th, around 8pm,

I went out to Brutopia with [Paladin], [SiB], and [U1] (formerly identified on this blog as [YL] for lack of anything more inspired).

It was a fun night.  I must be honest, I wasn’t all that into it at first because I felt distracted.  I suppose in the back of my head I was thinking of how to answer the question “How’re things with [Supergirl]?” and then, these being my friends, I’d be forced to either just tell them what was on my mind with the whole Australia thing, or I’d have to tell them I didn’t want to talk about it.  Neither option was really all that great.

But I think that if anything, Paladin’s momentum kept me going and eventually I was feeling pretty good about things.  The evening proceeded into several rounds of shuffleboard, where I, being the shuffleboard expert that I am (apparently!) won more rounds of beer than I could drink.  [Supergirl] joined us later and she had a great time too.

In the same way that she was really quiet when she first met me, she’s mostly pretty quiet when it comes to my friends.  They’ll get along just fine I think though.  The only reason I mention this is that it’s like this that I notice how much she and I have come to open up to eachother since we started dating– it’s just strange to be reminded how we got to this point where it’s free speech 24/7 from that starting point of nervous smilesm, awkward silences and overpolite attentiveness.

And in the end, I guess that puts things in perspective.  At least, it gives me the only angle I can possibly take this from– that even if she is likely to leave, it doesn’t mean that what there is between us right now isn’t significant.

But you know how it is– I’m lawyering myself, and trying to believe that somehow the words are fair or that they make sense.

… what?

Location: @work
Time: 2:57Am October 28th (started work at midnight:30, but arrived early at around 9pm to catch some sleep before my shift)
Batteries: ?? (I’m sick, so whatever my body is telling me is getting lost in translation right now)
Morale: …
Stomach Contents: about 1 pitcher of Alexander Keiths from about 8pm (explained later),
975mg acetaminophen from about 10pm,
1000 mg of acetaminophen from 2:30am,
20 mg of dextromethorphan hydrobromide from about 2:30,
5 mg of phenylephrine hydrochloride from about 2:30,
4 mg of  chlorpheniramine maleate from about 2:30.

I am absolutely loaded right now.
-=-=-=-=-

October 26th, a bit before 10pm:
“Man,” I said to my co-worker [Kristy], “this cold is really beating the shit out of me.  I can’t fucking stand it.  Is it wrong of me to want to cough on everybody in this hospital so that I can spread the joy?”

“You’re pretty sick.  In the non-clinical way,” she paused and corrected herself, “I mean, you’re a sick guy in the creepy motherfucker sorta way.”

“Well, I don’t need curing for that,” I coughed painfully into the crook of my elbow.  Choking down your coughs into the your elbow is the new healtcare craze, in case you didn’t know.  “What I need to get rid of is this cold. I can’t even eat anything, my throat is killing me and I just…” I thought about how to describe it, “I just don’t feel like it.”

“You should have some chicken soup.”

I thought about that, and sighed, somewhat dreamily: “Yeah, that’d be sweet, huh?”

I decide, despite everything, that I’m going to work an extra half an hour.  It’s one of the rare evenings that I’m working as the FastTracker, which is something I haven’t done in perhaps a month.  The FT position is arguably the easiest position to work, and it’s at the very least, my *favorite* position to work.  An extra half hour is easy work, read: easy money.  I’d be going to [Supergirl]’s after work anyway, and she’s currently writing one of her phsio papers. A half an hour of extra work isn’t going to kill me, and it’s half an hour more time for her to work on things more important than hanging out with me anyhow.

I take out my phone, and my thumbs key in the message:  “Mind if I stick around work for a half an hour more? How’s the work comin along?”

she replies in an SMS: “Whatever works for you! I’ll be here.  I made some chicken noodle soup for you, but I can’t really taste it >_> so I hope it’s good!”

Leave it to her to not only choose to share her bed and her lips days in a row with a man who is obviously sick, even after he gets her sick too, she makes him chicken noodle soup.

… to loosely quote something from a book I recently read, which I’m adapting to my own needs:

“God’s gift to this planet full of terrible people is [Supergirl].”

-=-=-=-=-=-

October 27th, around 8pm in MacLeans pub.

It’s only a bit over a couple of hours since I left her downtown apartment, and even that, on good terms.  I was supposed to meet NitroNilla down the street within 5 minutes of leaving her apartment, but, goodbyes always get distracted and after much wrinkling of clothes and ruffling of hair, I managed to meet up with NitroNilla down the street. Only about 15 minutes late.  She, for someone who has never been in a long-term relationship before, and I, someone who has never really been much the ‘physical’ sort of boyfriend, we just get caught up in these sorts of things all too easily, all too naturally.  I should point out though that things like that are just bonuses– it’s really things like the chicken soup that make her so important to me.

Anyway, here at MacLeans: I’ve half decided that I want to get plastered.  Which is a bad idea on pricinple, because I never drink to drown out feelings, and it’s a bad idea in practice moreso because I’m going to be working at the hospital in a bit over four hours. Thankfully that half decision means that I only get tipsy and not drunk.

“She sounds like a keeper,” said [SiB], who joined NitroNilla and I later.  “Man, I wish I could help you.”

I will admit several things this night. 

I admit, first of all, that I was tipsy. 

I will admit that SiB is right, despite that he and I often disagree on the subject of women:  [Supergirl] is a keeper, as far as I can tell. 

I admitted to SiB, which I haven’t to anyone else yet: I’m in love with her.  I keep using the word ‘natural’ or ‘easy’ because it’s just that. I can’t describe it any other way.

I admit that I wish SiB, or anyone for that matter, could help me.  I don’t often or easily admit to needing help from anyone.

So why do I need help?

-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Rewind:
It’s october 27th, somewhere between 1AM and 3AM.  It’s not quite pitch black outside, with the downtown Montreal lights still filtering casually through her curtains, casting a cool blue about her white walls that makes the place seem even colder.  Every now and then we hear something– a truck bowling down the pothole riddled street, police sirens, shouts, whatever.  I’ve gotten used to it almost.  She and I are in bed.  We’re both absorbing heat from eachother– we’re both a little sick, and the room is a bit chill, even under covers.

“I’m so glad to be graduating, finally,” she says.

“What are your plans afterwards?”

“… schooling,” she says hesitantly.  “But not for another half year or so.  But…”

“Oh yeah?”

“There’s a break between the semesters.  I think I’ve earned it, don’t you?”

“I think so.”

“… I wanted to tell you.  I’m looking at Australia.”

… silence.  She doesn’t move for a long moment, and I’m intricatley aware of each breath passing between us.  They seem so loud, and it seems so long.  The city is quiet, as if waiting.

“For med school?” I ask.

“Yeah.”

-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Now, let me go back to paraphrasing that quote from earlier in this post, because it didn’t use all of it.

“God’s gift to this planet full of terrible people is [Supergirl.]  And if He is someday really, truly angry at us, He will not send floods, or earthquakes, or bombs or angels–

–He will just take her back.”

Impatience

I got sick about 3 days ago.  It’s this stupid cough, congestion, fever sorta deal.  I don’t think it’s a flu, but it’s enough that it’s annoying the crap out of me, and recently [Supergirl] seems to have caught it as well.

I’m the kind of person who doesn’t want to wait for results.  Mind you, I am in many ways a procrastinator– but that’s only for things that I don’t really care very much about.  The things that I do care about, I have to fight myself to slow down all the time.  A lot of the frustration in my life occurs when things don’t happen as fast as I want them to.

Illness is one example.  I’m the kind of person who, if I get some sorta stomach ache, if I believed that I could cure it instantly by inducing vomiting, then I’d do it.  If for some reason the cure was one hundred punches in the stomach, I’d probably do it to, rather than be sick for a couple of days.  I want instant results.

Imagine my annoyance when, in real life, things aren’t as easy as going through and inventory list and selecting “Antidote” or casting “Esauna”.

-=-=-=-=-=-

I got my winter wheel back from the bike shop yesterday.  With that, it means that my winter bike is essentially complete, parts-wise.  All that’s left to so is mount the wheel and do some calibration for the brakes and draileurs.  Hopefully, leaving the rear deraileur soaked in degreaser for a couple of days will have gotten all the gunk out– I haven’t really checked on it, but I’ll dissasemble it and regrease it when I get the chance.

Being sick has reminded me, as usual, of my limitations.  I can wear the Superman shirt, but unfortunately, I’m not invulnerable, nor am I omnipotent.  I was biking to work yesterday and I had a fair amount of difficulty keeping my momentum going.  After just a couple of days, my legs felt atrophied, and I felt constantly winded.   The ride from my NDG apartment to work that normally takes me 20 minutes took me seconds short of 30 minutes.

That’s brought into question whether or not biking 4 seasons is really viable?

I mean, it’s one thing to fight snow and ice and sleet and all that when I’m in good health, but I’m more likely to get sick during the winter as well.  If I do, transportation is going to be a serious problem!

Don’t wanna miss a thing

Location: @[Supergirl’s]
Time: 5:18AM
Batteries: ?
Morale: 🙂

The thing about working night shifts is that it’s hard for me to fall asleep during ‘normal’ peoples’ sleeping hours.  Normally, I wouldn’t even bother going to bed anywhere near midnight as I’ve done the past couple of days, because I hate lying awake in the dark.  Part of my previous insomnia problems probably stems from me trying to stay awake all the time to the point of exhaustion so that I could fall alseep instantly without having to spend any time just staring at the ceiling, left to mull and meditate.

That kind of habit doesn’t change easily, but some things do change.  Now as I lie awake, dozing on and off, and everytime I wake up I find myself next to her, I try not to doze off again.  Not because I hate the isolation or all that time for reflection– that seems to be gone.

…but because dreams seem lonelier than real life now.

Who needs rest, when I’ve got her?

breadcrumbs to home

“Just because… they said… well, the ambulance might have to…”

“It’s fine,” I said hurriedly.  It looked like she was going to break down.  “I’ll move it all downstairs.  No problem.”

I usually leave my shoe rack and my bike in the stairwell.  Later, I would move it all to the basement next to Zack’s entrance, at least for the time being.

“Thank you,” she said, nodding, her lower lip quivering.  She turned on her heel quickly, and went back upstairs.  Those stairs to the upper apartment always creak, and even as she left, trying to hide her grief twisted face, the automatic light above my door flicked on and off.  Somehow, the light had been damaged the last time emergency technicians had come to the apartment to take her husband to the hospital.

Since I moved in here in July, I’d heard the man upstairs, her husband, coughing.  Not just any kind of cough.  The kind of cough that an elderly man like him only has when his lungs aren’t doing so well.  I’ve head a whole spectrum of coughs, from the wet chunky kind to the flaky dry sorts, while working at the Montreal Chest Institute.  From the depth and frequency, and the fact that I could also hear the constant purr of a respirator, I knew from the day I first slept over in my then-new apartment bedroom that the neighbors upstairs were in for some heartache somewhere near down the line.


I was raised as a Catholic Christain, but if there was ever a religion that I studied that I thought that my life tended to align with, it would be Taoism.  I mean, minus the black magic and the ghost fighting properties, the basic tennets of the philosophy, the perspective of the world, they make sense to me.

Everything kinda goes like a dynamic dialectic, like a swinging conversation of forces over time.  Every experience lives in relativity to something else in a spectrum of perspectives.  An act of kindness can at once be the opposite of an act of spite, and at the same time, it can represent an action in contrast to inaction, it can be an act of independance from a habit of indifference, etc.  The thing is, no single anything is ever just one thing on one spectrum, which I what I think people mistake about Taoism– it’s not about black and white or even just grey, it’s about the simultaneous interlinking of an entire three dimensional matrix of several spectrums at once.  Life isn’t binary, nor is it decimal between 0 and 1– it’s the exponential possibilities of multiplying those fractions by eachother.

Sometime you run into a number that looks like one you’ve seen before, but chances are, it’s just similar.  It’s not really the same.  I think that part of the trick of making life not only bearable but enjoyable is to appreciate things as unique, every time you see it.  It’s not just that the secnario might be different in front of you– it’s also that the glasses with which you look at with the world, be they scrutinous or rose colored, are aging too, and that changes everything.


On Friday, [Supergirl] stayed over at my place for the first time.

There’s a first for everything, and as much as we like where we are, the experience of getting there is certainly something, isn’t it?  By Saturday night, we’d figured out just how it is that two people lie in bed together with their arms and legs tangled in just the right kind of mess.  But it took a lot of bumped noses, accidental headbuts and strained necks to figure out how just what worked what didn’t.  Where exactly one’s face could fit in the crook of an arm or neck so that breathing was still possible.  What distance was just the right range to be able to close one’s arms around in a full circle.  Which way it could be done to have an ear in just the place to hear heartbeats counting off the silence or lungs inflating like bellows.


In some strange way, moving my bike into the basement for the family of my dying neighbor (who has since passed away) is part of it all.  It just… adds up.  It places you in time and space.  Events that you put thumbtacks on a three dimensional board make you feel like you know where you stand, sort of, in the grand scheme of things, so that when another moment comes up, you know just where you are when you look at the beadcrumbs of all those lives around you.

insert coin

In case you were wondering, here is the ad that I posted up on Craigslist a couple of weeks ago that brought [Supergirl] and I into knowledge of eachothers’ existences.  It was more of an exercise in introspection than anything else– I mean, if you had to somehow peresent yourself, sell yourself, in the span of a text that can’t be so short that it says nothing useful and that can’t be so long that they get tired of reading, how do you do that?  How do you buy yourself that first chance, word per word?

It was actually [DaVinci] who saw my ad first, and she’s the one who pointed it out to [Supergirl].  As much as I never post on Craigslist unless I’m trying to buy or sell a bicycle or a cellphone, [Supergirl] never reads personals ads either.  I never really expected to meet anyone like [Supergirl] but in the end, I’m glad that it happened.


So, just for a bit of history: I went to a good high school, did pretty well out there. Was very involved in community things. Didn’t excel at sports, but did pick up a lot of little things. Played some vball, handball and badminton. Started kickboxing along the way. Played darts. Joined the chess club. Played in the high school band. Traveled across Canada and the US on competitions.

Went to college. Followed the family’s ideas of trying to be an engineer, and decided by the time I got to univeristy that it wasn’t the path for me. Studied in various fields, worked as a TA, finished a BA. Went to Ottawa to teach the government about public transportation. Coached. Tutored. Rode a bike 100km in the rain.

All the time, worked in public service fields like libraries, schools and hospitals, because community related work, I’ve found, is my thing.

After graduating, decided to spend a year overseas to change my outlook on life, and see if things could be any different– and got to see how different things could be, really! Fell in love with karaoke, Korean movies, and Indian food. Learned to play a guitar like Jim Carrey in “Yes Man”. Broke a hotel’s neon sign by accident while playing golf off a rooftop at 2AM. Spent a night sleeping on the streets half a world away from home because I couldn’t read foreign train signs properly. Almost was swept to sea by the rising tide during an exploration of a lighthouse island. Learned a new language thanks to a class full of 10 year olds. Slept in a haunted hotel. Etc, etc, etc, yadda yadda yadda, y’know?

I’m pretty ordinary, all things considered– a jack of all trades, a master of nothing. Good for conversation, for laughs, for dependability, honesty– a package deal, and I’m proud of it.

I’m back in Montreal now. I’ve got a respectable job which I enjoy, I’ve got friends who I’m getting to meet all over again, and a city to rediscover. Life is good. I really can’t complain.

What am I looking for?

I’m looking for someone to go on a date with. I work in a hospital and my worklife and social life took up a lot of time to get back in gear since I returned. It’s that simple: I’m here because I’m trying to shake things up a bit, and there’s no harm in trying.

I won’t lie– I want a relationship, but lets not put too much pressure on it. Lets start with coffee, dinner, whatever– at the very least, it’s good for shits and giggles. I really suck at introductions and I might be a bit awkward at first, but I’d appreciate any opportunities.

Conditions? Criteria? You’re around my age level– I’m 26, so plus or minus a few is okay. You don’t need to be a supermodel, but you must respect your body and that means that you understand that you need to do things in moderation.

I’m Montreal born Chinese– so if you’re Asian, and you’re looking for someone who ‘gets’ the whole idea of an Asian upbringing, well hello! On the other hand, if you’re not Asian, that doesn’t matter either– it really doesn’t matter to me, and I’m actually very happy as someone who is at once an anglo-franco montrealer and a canto chinese, along with some bonus korean language support.

You don’t need to be a doctor or an engineer or the prom queen– you just need to know who you are, and be able to hold a decent conversation. You may very well be perfect, but I’m not, so in fairness lets just start with no expectations.

You can be boring, you can be exciting, you can be confident or shy– be yourself anand hopefully that’s good enough. I can be boring, I can be exciting, I can be confident or shy– I will be myself, and if it goes well, I’ll try to be more, just for you.

The lack of requirements doesn’t make me desperate– I think I’ve just seen enough of the world to know that everyone is worthwhile in some way, and I that sometimes what makes you happy isn’t necessarily what you wanted or expected.

Drop a line; even if you’re just looking for a penpal or a buddy to go eat out with, we’ll take it fromwherever it starts.

hard for your money

I have this habit of entering a room with an automatic assessment of my surroundings.  If there’s a fire, can I break down a window and get out?  If the zombie apocalypse gets to us, can we barricade this room?  Where are the weapons?  How thick are these walls?

Everything automatically undergoes a tactical assessment in my head, including the people in the room.  Are that guy’s shoelaces tied?  Is he wearing his pants low?  What kind of shoes?

It comes from a gamer’s mind I suppose.  Looking for that coincidence between preparation and opportunity.

For what event?

Well, it’ll come.  You don’t really need to ask.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Every now and then there comes a night at the ER where things are just going awful.  I put on my game face and I get into the department, even as I pass through a waiting room filled almost shoulder to slumped shoulder, and the first thing I check is the stack of patients’ ER sheets, thicker than a fist, waiting to be seen by a doctor.

The medical system works. Sometimes. Not always.  I can’t even say most of the time.  I don’t know the statistics.

But I do know one thing– oftentimes, it’s a thankless job.

Television makes a hospital seem like  such a romance.  Unsung heroes in drab pastel scrubs, cutting kids open, tying off arteries, solving medical mysteries and reuniting families at the brink of destruction.  Even when someone dies on television it’s something dramatic– there’s a ‘moral’ to it, a ‘point’ to it.

Real life isn’t like that.  It’s much more pointless, in the sense that people are reduced to primal logics, rooted in very simplistic instincts for survival.

You can see the basic decomposition of civilization when people start getting scared.

The main agent of this decomposition is helplessness and time.  You make someone helpless, and then you give them time, and even if the scenario doesn’t actually get any worse, civility begins to errode.

The longer you leave people in fear, the more you see the effects.

The waiting room of an emergency department is a pit of emotions.  The longer you leave someone in there, the more those emotions tend to compound.  Frustration, anger, pride– whatever you want it to be.  Usually, the least of all emotions found in the waiting room of a hospital is love.

It manifests itself when patients’ parents start storming the ER demanding for answers.  They awnt to check the wait times (which we never actually know) and why they’re not being seen by a doctor (which is irrelevant to their situation, since we’ve told them to wait and that’s pretty much all there is to it– they haven’t waited long enough) and why they were categorized as a non-urgent patient (because in every parents’ eyes, a runny nose and slight fever is obviously H1N1).

They just go crazy.

And they take it out on hospital staff.

Now, it seems to me pretty silly to beg for the help of a hospital and then to somehow think that the best way of getting effective care is to coerce or threaten hospital staff.

People are really just fucking stupid.  And if it weren’t for the laws designed to protect stupidity, we’d probably just tell people to go out there and fix their own children if they’re so tough.

Working in healthcare is seldom worth it.  I find that it’s seldom rewarding.

Occasionally it is, don’t get me wrong.

But let me put it this way– I work there in large part because I feel that it gives me an appreciation of the finer points of my life.  I work here because it’s like training for ‘real life.’  To me, working in the hospital is almost like a game.  I’m in there to get a high score.

It’s like tetris to me. Juggle it all. Make the pieces fit.

I don’t expect there to be a good story.

I work overnights in part because I prefer not having to cooperate with too many others at once.  It’s a lone wolf thing for me.  I want help, but good help is hard to find.

-=-=-=-=-=-

This is … part of my personality.

[Terminator] once watched me playing Gears of War 2 on horde mode, alone.  I was in the game, killing things as per usual– but every now and then, I’d get killed.  It’s a tough game to play as a team, it’s obviously tough as well to play solo.

“That looks like… work,” he said.  “How is that even fun?”

And the thing is, I’ve come to realize that there are a lot of things I do because I feel that it makes me a better person, even though I really just don’t like doing it in itself.

I guess it’s just a question of the level ‘directness’ of the enjoyment I get from something.

I’ve started jogging for example. I  hate jogging.  But, I do get some enjoyment out of the benefits I get from jogging– it gets me to the sushi restaurant where my friends work (who I enjoy seeing) and it makes me feel in better shape (which I enjoy feeling).

Working in the hospital similarly is soemthing I don’t particularly love, in itself.  At least, not the parts where I have to do some fancy wording to appease a bunch of angry parents.  I do it though because I enjoy the pay, I enjoy the problem solving training that it gives me, and I enjoy the idea that I’m doing something that helps people.

Oftentimes though, what I do and what I want are emotionally detached– it’s only discipline that gets me through the day.

I believe strongly that I’m doing what I need to do to pay my dues.  I’m not going to say that you need to accept the lousiest job on the planet just to make yourself a tougher person– because, that kind of morale damage is actually counterproductive– but I will say that I beleive firmly in myself because I feel that I’m paying my dues by doing the shit that needs to be done.  That makes it possible for me to enjoy my life in the grand scheme of things.

Do it yourself

Time: 2:07AM
Location: @work
Batteries: 85%
Morale: 🙂

Finally had the chance to finish that John Cusack movie with [Supergirl] tonight.  We caught dinner at Hurley’s before heading back to her place for some quiet time.

At some point, as we lay on her couch just chatting, she started to hesitate about something.

“I’ve never been in a long term relationship before,” she said nervously.

Time: 4:17AM
Location: @work
Batteries: 65% (My sleep break is coming up, so I’m not to worried)
Morale: :/ (Wait times are long in the ER today, and parents are pissing me off)

To continue with what I was writing earlier,

I guess I can imagine why she’d think that this would be a problem.  I think I said it before that when it comes to women at this point, I’m looking for someone who has all their shit together.  I’ve realized that part of what made my last few relationships fall apart came down to two things: first was that I felt I needed to ‘fix’ their lives, and second that their lives needed fixing.  

The first part is my problem.  I think for the longest time I’ve had this “Knight in Shining Armor” syndrome where I probably ended up getting close to girls in the first place because I could ‘solve’ some of their problems.

It kinda ties into the second part though, which is that if there was any fixing to be done, the kind of fixing I’m takling about is the kind of stuff that was impossible for me to change.  It’s the kind of thing that they’d have to fix for themselves.  I’m not talking about tutoring someone for calculus– I’m talking about trying to get someone to stop excessive drinking, or to look for a job, or to just have confidence.  You can do what you can for these kinds of ‘real life problems’ but in the end, only the person will only change if they decide they want to.  Anything on your part is a suggestion and support at best, wasted breath at worst.

So what I guess I want nowadays is a girl who knows what needs to be done, and has enough moxy to do it.

It’s not black and white though.  When I say that the woman I am to be in a long term relationship needs to get their shit together, it doesn’t mean they need to be perfect.  But there’s a limit to how much ‘interference’ or how much ‘intervention’ I should be doing in someone’s life.

Leo Tolstoy said something along the lines of “many dream of changing the world, but few dream of changing themselves.”  Which is not only true, but it is also a problem.

I think that ideally for two people to work well together, they need to have their shit together.  Sure, there’s a certain romance to having your boyfriend/girlfriend being the one who solves all your problems– but then, is it really that person uniquely who can solve those problems? Is love a matter of convenience of problem solving? Do you care about that person because of who they are, or what they can do for you?

And while yes, you can argue that happiness or emotional fulfillment is something that someone does for you, I remind you that I’m speaking within reasonable limits.  I just happen to think that the best way to make yourself capable of loving someone else is to love yourself first– that means, that to best be able to care for others means to care for yourself first.

This usually comes down to a spectrum ranging from left to right.  On one side, you have a personality that is overbearing, clingy and dependant.  On the other side you have someone who is indifferent, detached and independant.

There needs to be a bit of a balance– enough independance that you don’t constantly burden your partner with all  your unsolvable problems, yet, just enough dependance that you actually need to be in a relationship.  Because if, at the end of the day, you don’t feel you /need/ that person for any obscur, back of your head feeling, then what’s the point?

Anyway, I’m digressing.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

The bottom line is, I told her that that didn’t bother me. I mean, I mostly suspected it from the begining anyhow, so it didn’t come as a total surprise– and in spite of that, there was nothing different about anything.

I suppose it might’ve been a concern if she was the kind of person who I didn’t trust to handle her own problems, or who I thought I had to fix for some reason.  Maybe all her time spent living abroad in country after country has given her that edge over most people her age. 

Regardless, whatever goes on, we’re going to learn it together.

The fact that she’s never been in a long term relationship probably works well for us– it’s not as if I’ve never made a long term relationship work before.  It’s like I’m getting a second (or third, or forth, depending on how you want to count it) chance at getting things right, about how to treat a woman right. This time around, I think I have a great partner for the job.

“Well, I don’t know how you want to count it,” I said. “But the fact that I haven’t made any of my relationships work in the past doesn’t necessarily put me that much ahead of the game than you.”

I mean, who’s keeping score, right?

What matters is that as we just stare at eachother in the dark, everything that I need to feel right is in front of me.

-=-=-=-=-
Time: 10:15AM
Location: @home

I just got home from work, had a shower, and a bit of breakfast.  I stayed for a bit of overtime to attend a business meeting at work.  It’s not something that happens often, which is why I attended.  That they were willing to pay me for the overtime helped too.

This morning, I was awarded a permanent position in the ER.  It’s a bit step up for me from the temporary part time position I had.  It’s still for the nights, which isn’t ideal, but at least I’ve got solid ground under me now.  I’m pretty pleased at myself for having ousted something like 25 other applicants for the position too 😛

It occured to me that I should probably do a thanksgiving post, because I never really got around to one.  Well, here are some of the things that I’m thankful for right now.

  • [Supergirl]. Enough said.  I changed my cellphone plan for her and, yes, I changed my relationship status of Facebook because although I wouldn’t normally want to do that kinda peurile shit, the fact of the matter is that I’m really damn happy I met her so to hell with looking cool– if it makes me seem like a giddy little schoolgirl, I don’t care, you should know that [Supergirl] and I are in a relationship and that I’m honored.
  • My good health.  I think I’m in great shape lately– not as strong as I can possibly be, but my system is clean, and I’m a lean 157 pounds (which is basically 7 pounds lighter than my fat 164 self, which was just 3 weeks ago!) thanks to the jogging and revised calisthetics program.
  • My job.  That goes with the promotion I just got.
  • My bike, and stuff. The winter bike is coming together finally, and it’s just awaiting that repaired wheel from the shop.
  • My great roomies.  [Terminator] and [SoCool] have been great to me since I got here, and we’re really getting along just famously. They’re supportive of me during the down times, and they never cease to try and drag me out when I’m not feeling up to the world.
  • Tokebis.  To shoot the shit with the likes of  [TheGrendel], [NitroNilla], [Paladin] and [SiB], there are no better venues.
  • My family, who is finally starting to feel like a family.

the right side of the bed

It’s one of those days where I just woke up

and realized that everything is not just okay, but great

tIME: 3:23am (oCT 20th)
lOCATION: @WORK
bATTERIES: 20% (notttt good)
mORALE: o[ >_<‘]O

It’s been a while since I’ve written a post at work under such sleep deprived conditions!

It’s been a long day.

Let me start at the beginning.  It started off as a pretty productive looking day– good potential, and all that, y’know?  I woke up around noon, I’d been awake until about 2am the previous night, so that gave me a good 10 hours of sleep.

I called up McWinny’s bicycle shop to see if they’d reconstructed my winter wheel yet, but unfortunately it wasn’t yet done.  That was slightly annoying, because when I’d brought it in last thursday they’d told me that it would only take a day.  Anyway, it wasn’t ready, so I made due and tended to other things instead. I finished recabling the brakes on the winter bike (for some reason, probably due to disuse/abuse, the forward brake cable just snapped as soon as I tested it a couple of weeks back…) with some spare parts, and more or less finished the duct tape job.  Duct tape you ask? Yes. See, the bike to begin with has a few dings and scratches in the paint, so there’s bare steel exposed.  I ground out the rust, but I don’t feel like spending money on paint just to retouch a few spots, so instead, I’m basically just duct taping over them since a roll costs a bit over dollar.  That’ll keep out the moisture and roadsalt .  It’s not worth it for me to spend too much money making this thing look pretty, since it’s meant to be a beater– the winter tire is probably worth more than the entire bike, to be truthful.  Besides, if the bike looks too nice, more people will be inclined to try and steal it (although, they’d have to be pretty resourceful to steal a bike and then sell it in the middle of a Canadian winter I’d imagine.)

Anyway, that was the majority of my afternoon.

I picked up Square’s “Infinite Undiscovery” to play a bit through that, but I haven’t played that game since I tried it out for the first time about a month ago, so the going was a bit rough.  Couldn’t remember how the combat system worked at all.

Anyway, after that, I was scheduled to meet [SiB] downtown for some coffee.  It’s been a while since we’d had the chance to really just sit down, just the two of us, and shoot the shit.  Talk about life.

Most of the time, we were talking about women and relationships in general.  I think that, over the years, perhaps even more than the martial arts, what [SiB] and I have had in common was a sense of philosophy about the world.

Now, I know that sounds kinda sobbish– to say that we have a sense of philosophy, I mean– but the truth is, I think that some people might be better to think about it.

And by having a sense of philosophy, it doesn’t just mean having a few principles or rules.  The difference is mostly in magnitude– the way I look at it, for someone to have a philosophy of life, it isn’t so much a rule out of which one’s way of life comes out, but rather, a reflection on the way one lives one’s life.

The reason I say this is because I think that a person’s philosophy is more relevantly associated with them if we look at it as a result of their actions, and not their ideological source.  Basically– how they walk their walk, not how they talk their talk.

And [SiB] is one of those rare people who does a lot of walking.

Anyway, I went to meet up with [Supergirl] afterwards, to take care of some groceries with her so that we could make dinner at her place before we caught a movie.

Well, dinner went well and then we spent a couple of hours just putzing around her apartment before throwing in a John Cusack movie from the late 80s.

It was at exactly 00:20 AM that my phone’s agenda alarm went off: “Work N2!”

Which wasn’t expected at all.  It thought that I had the entire night off; we were barely even halfway through the movie. I called work to see if this was just some mistake.

“You’re working tonight, at 00:30AM,” confirmed [Jay].

I groaned.

I got set, apologized profusely to [Supergirl] and started off for work.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-

I should mention here that the results of going out for a jog 3-4 times a week has made some sort of passive but noticible difference! I ran down from Supergirl’s apartment a half dozen blocks away, and I went nonstop– not even winded, which wasn’t at all bad considering the speed at which I was going.  When I got on my bike, I tore down the roads to get to work just about 10 minutes late.

-=-=-=-=-

I’m not sure how I forgot that I was supposed to be working Monday night, much less how I was so convinced up until I spoke with [Jay] that I had the night off.

For the rest of the night, it was kinda tough.  For one thing, a very cozy night had been ruined.  On another hand, I was exhausted because I hadn’t had the chance to sleep in preparation for night shift at all.

Time: Oct 21st 2009 @4:12AM
Location: @work
Batteries: 30% (Not Good!)
Morale: 🙂

When I got home from work this morning at about 8:30AM, I was exhausted.  I’d managed to sleep about an hour during the overnight break (from 4:30Am until 6:00AM), but that was mostly just a teaser and I had a great deal of difficulty getting back in gear after my break.

When I got home, I was absolutely exhausted. So tired that I had a splitting headache that about 600mg of painkillers didn’t do anything to kill. I couldn’t fall asleep.

I ran into [Supergirl] online as I tried to calm my brain, and I ended up staying up even later, chit chatting.  I finally managed to get to sleep at around 11AM.

I can’t really write more right now, I’m just not feeling up to it with my current level of tiredness.  I can’t wait until my sleep break.