The porcelain bowl-shaped collection dish of my thoughts

To offset the QQ, I’ve got a bizarro QQ blog post. I couldn’t think of the opposite for QQ though, hence the smiley. Anywho, bragging incoming.

Bethany has visited Michigan every couple months. Each time, her biological dad has contacted me to arrange times to pick her up. And you know what? It’s been awesome spending time with her.

I’ve lost weight. Been consistently walking 2 miles a day, eating less food, drinking more water, etc. I feel pretty fricken proud when others take notice. More progress means more noticeable changes.

Financially, I’m doing much better now than when I was in a relationship. No longer living paycheck-to-paycheck and I’m consistently able to pay the less-strict bills too. I’ve wanted a healthy savings account since I started at LW and now it takes little effort to keep one thriving.

I’ve got a lot of relationships that I’m extremely grateful for. Ones involving babes, even. I’ll have to ‘yadda yadda’ the benefits of those ones.

I’m good at my job, enough so because I’m sought after for advice from n00bs as well as senior folk. Feeling useful is more valuable to me than being paid more.

This past month has been rough for me. My spirits have been diminished and I’ve had days where I’d stew in negativity, serving little purpose. Posting about it here won’t fix the problems, but getting it off my chest may help.

As of last month, Michele & Bethany have been gone a year. Dating aside, Michele and I have been together since we were 15. If this wasn’t bad enough, I’ve spent this past month cleaning out our old apartment.

Zero, literally zero of my local guy friends were willing to help me move. Even the guys I’ve helped move, or offered similar help to. It’s so cheap that they’d quickly dismiss a friend in need. Hired movers, screw ‘em.

My birthday came and went, same group of friends didn’t care. Two years ago, friends threw me a friggen awesome party. This year I didn’t even get an acknowledgment from most.

A sweet job opportunity came and went. It’s been in a ‘any day now its gonna happen’ status for months, then reverted to a perma-backburner status.

Unrelated to the aforementioned fail, many friendships have dissolved around me. For the most part, they seem uninterested/preoccupied. One of the more-important ones involve unexplained strife and denial. However, I acknowledge that until recently I’ve been unavailable for spur-the-moment invitations.

So my shipment of fail has been docked in the harbor. But you know what? All this is a series of hurdles. Nothing I won’t survive. New apartment, new opportunities for income, new relationships, I can send my shipment of fail onward.

My QQ post is up. Lets move on.

My grandma (yes, my family calls her Nana) isn’t doing so well, an inevitability for most grandmas.  Kidney issues have lead to various medication complications and the resulting side effects.  That’s not to say any malpractice is present, but I’m learning that people with a number of medication-worthy issues run into conflicting ‘solutions’.  Basically she’s faced with either frequent dialysis treatments or opting out of any further treatment.

My conversation with my aunt is similar to what I’m posting here.   Mind you, I wasn’t THIS upfront about such feelings, but the point was still conveyed.

A few years ago, an aunt (different from the aforementioned aunt) passed away.  Her husband, my Uncle Sal, was understandably distraught from her passing.  His health failed during the next year or so until he too passed away.  While I attended his funeral, I couldn’t help but feel relief knowing that he’s with her now.  His crossing over means they’ll never have to be separated again, wherever they’re at now.  So, in some sense, the whole thing seems oddly romantic to me.  A ‘together forever’ type of thing.

For Nana, I feel the same way.  She absolutely does not want dialysis, she’s been persnickety about her medication up till this point too.  Her husband, my grandpa, died  10 years ago.  It feels wrong to withhold her wishes to follow in his footsteps and rejoin him.

My family used to be big in Civil War Reenacting.  Around the time I was in elementary thru middle school, we’d go to multiple yearly events.  Jackson, Linden, Chickamauga, and Gettysburg were places we went for camping, war games, and reenacting old battles fought between the North and South.  Spectators were everywhere, friends from school came to reenact, and the campfire food was outstanding.

With all the things that went on at those events, I actually cared about the historical parts the least.  These are some of the staples of those memories:

The chicks – Contrary to the muscle-bound ladies man that you see nowadays, back then I was a total wallflower.  It wasn’t until the later years, in reenacting of all places, that I started to take strides with the opposite sex.  And man was it awesome.  A lot of firsts at those events (no, not that first), laid the groundwork for more ‘skirmishes’ later on.

The ghosts – Staying at places like the Cashtown Inn in Gettysburg (used as a hospital for wounded Civil War soldiers) garnered some pretty memorable, albeit sleep depriving moments.  My family and I don’t need much provoking to tell of our experiences.

The family tension – As mentioned previously, I didn’t care much for the reenacting part.  Going on war games with my group, assisting in events for the spectators, and contributing to the (nearly useless) obligatory nightly guard duty of the camp wasn’t for me.  I’d try to skirt on such obligations wherever possible.  Among other unnecessary catalysts, this often sparked arguments between my parents and I.  Especially my dad.  Being less interested than him in Reenacting or Church typically resulted in moodiness and guilt trips.  I don’t miss it.

Oh, and I’m much less likely to be startled now thanks to random nightly cannon fire in the distance.

Several months back, Joey checked out.  He had been a childhood friend but we hadn’t maintained any sort of relationship after hitting middle school.  I learned that he hadn’t done so well after a bad break-up with a bad girlfriend, then made the rash decision after having a couple drinks at home.

Many details omitted for relevancy, but I’ll say that the whole ordeal was pretty heartbreaking for everybody that knew him.

Though I’ve grieved for his and his family’s pain, the song above best reflects my feelings on the overall topic.  The background music is distracting, just focus on the words.

Friends.  Defined as somebody I’d hang out with outside of work, count on for secrecy, and offer up whatever I have to assist however possible.

All horrendous amounts of gloating aside, I seem to fare better with ladies than I do the guys. Friendship wise, obviously.  Of everybody I’ve ever been close to, women have been the majority.  My friend Amanda is the same way, she generally befriends guys instead of girls.

I’m curious why this happens though.  I value my guy friends as much as my girl friends, of course.  But I’m much more likely to pal around with chicks instead of dudes.

I welcome any feedback.  Freud the hell outta it via the comments section.

Some of you know Adam, but it’s not necessary for this post.  Also, as the category suggests, this is regarding my own behavior and not blaming others for it.

In his interactions with others, Adam can be seen as impatient, dismissive, and charged with negative Dickface energy.  And while he exists in our world as a member of an apparently crucial group called ‘jerks we work with’, I see him in an additional light too.

He has served as one of my remaining links to years past.  Growing up I’ve had a hard time with shyness, confidence, and voicing my opinion.  I felt it was easier to comply with whatever social group (elementary, highschool, first job) expects of me, than to explain myself and deal with cutting remarks & jokes.

When I began at LW I had to rely on Adam for work guidance and eventually supervision (he mistakenly thought management was a fulfilling role).  During that time, I’d catch myself following the habits that used to consume me years earlier.  Incorporating his probable judgment with things I did or said.  To help shape my decision making if it meant avoiding him hassling me about it.

Eventually I realized I was essentially giving him respect for something he didn’t deserve.   The type of behavior that should’ve died years ago.

These days, such behavior has dissolved.  I make decisions based on what I could get out of it and how others could benefit.  I’m grateful it’s a thing of the past.  I like Adam, but don’t put stock in his negativity anymore.  Nor am I concerned with ill opinions of my decisions.

Also, I’ve never told him this.  If he’s reading it now, I’m sure he’d feel somehow justified.  But no, he’s still a dickface.