Oh what I forgot to mention that I’m going to the New Kids on the Block concert on Friday? The love I have for my friends holds no bounds. Rhonda gets here on Wednesday she has a five star V.I.P ticket and I’m fifth row.  This is going to be one of those life experiences I’m sure.

I am not a fan. Not.At.All.

C.J and I were talking over email as we often do, here is an excerpt.

Me to C.J:

so umm can you believe i am going to the new kids concert! that is how much i love rhonda. holy shit i will NOT be able to stop laughing. taking 100 pairs of ear plugs. im seriously afraid that the place will smell like wet pussy from all the riled up ladies. ew gross times 900.

C.J back to me:

You are talking to a man that got swept into a Robbie Williams Concert on a wave of Estrogen. 95% of ALL un-planned births (Actually both pregnancies and births) are because of New Kids concerts. Please please please play it safe. Tape it up before you leave the flat. It’s the safest way. be it Sello, Gaffa or Duct….. tape it up before your journey.

Good thing Adam had that there vasectomy.

Lately I have been feeling lost and extremely lonely.  That overwhelming feeling of knowing I am sitting next to someone who loves me more than anything I can see it in his face and I can’t reach out I can only lash out and depression hurts everyone.

It just feels like it is easier to have no one than have friends sometimes. Seems like less people to let down and disappoint that way.

I’m at a new and different place that I have never been to before. For over a week now I have been able to fight off abusing any of my medication, I haven’t taken even one milligram of extra clonazepam.  My brain is winning that battle for a change, my head is saying things to me like;

do you really want to sleep for that long
do you really want to lose all that time and not remember what the fuck you were doing
you won’t be able to read
you won’t be able to play xbox
you will get even more stupid bruises

I have even been eating and bathing which is new to me when I am this depressed I normally do not care how greasy my hair gets and I have an appetite I may have even put on a pound or two but I won’t know till the monthly bloating bullshit subsides.

On the flip side the hard water of Northern Ontario did a number on my face and hair, my face is a mess my hair is broken and although I would consider shaving my head if it was summer not in the winter my neck is already cold.  And that vanity has been my latest excuse an excuse that lasted six full days where I would not step outside.  Add that to hitting the end of my rope over any negative comment made to me about my weight right now I hit an all time low in the appearance department and when I finally did go out it was with Adam and I did my best to not make eye contact with anyone.   It pisses me off because I hate the pattern of finding a way through something just to find it almost instantly manifested in some other completely absurd behavior.

This is different than being a homebody, being hermity and having social anxiety. I normally jump at the chance to defend and brag about my naturalness and I have had adult acne since I was twenty-five so although I hate it I’m used to it, or I thought I was, same with my peach fuss I despise it but I accept it.  If there is one thing I am really starting to realize it is that it isn’t that I’m so much getting over any of my insecurities in my thirties it is that I am starting to accept that I have the insecurities that I have, more of a, yeah I’m insecure about that what’s it to you type attitude.

I can come up with literally any excuse not to go outside.  I am so bad Adam has and will respond with “good one” that is seriously fine with me he has been told by my shrink not to play into my anxieties and I personally think he does a fantastic job and I have no idea how he does it, he could do things like refuse to pick up my prescriptions and stuff for me forcing me outside but trust me he already does a lot.   It is strange to me that taking a few milligrams of clonazepam to get high and knock myself out seems saner than not going outside because of my acne.

I don’t know how to get over the abandonment issues I have so I can stop hiding in my apartment because my skin is better sort of now I know I’m stuck in this feeling like I have no family that I suck really fucking bad at friendships, that I feel like I have no where to “go home” too.  I don’t feel any connection to Ontario, there is nothing left for me in Northern British Columbia. Nostalgia is eating me alive right now. But with it comes so much anger I’m like a ticking time bomb. I don’t know how to move on to get to a place where I can be happy with only having forward to go and nothing to go back to.  And I don’t want to end up in the hospital and have to start all over like I normally do and I don’t even get it.

I’m going to get my eye brows waxed it better make me feel beautiful.

 It is officially official: I suck at being away from home.  The last time I even went away anywhere this long was when my dad was dying but then wasn’t dying but I was already booked for two weeks so I went for two weeks.   Normally I can’t even go home to my parents place for very long something will piss me off or I will miss Adam and change my ticket.  Vacation like sun spots I have done max two weeks. One week is barely enough and two weeks is just about too much but is doable.

Even though my ultimate dream is to live in the opening scene from Love Actually and have someone sweep me off my feet and make-out with Adam for five minutes with extreme head turning and exaggerated everything while the poor bastards with no one to pick them up stare and dream that they too can have what I have. But in reality I am a raging bitch when I get off a plane in YVR and my destination is home. I used to despise being that lonely soul with no one to pick me up but now I just want off the fucking plane and I want my luggage NOW and I want in a cab and I don’t want to talk to you I want my HOME and my CAT and my stuff and the way my apartment smells and I want to be alone.

When I was just seventeen years old based on my looks I got a job at a hotel in butt fuck no where half way between Golden and Revelstoke.  I didn’t even last a week. I quit and then they fired me which I know makes about as much sense reading that as it did when it was happening.  And the guy that runs the place is a sadistic ass who threw me out and many others over the years and made us sit across the street outside the gas station waiting for the bus that came once a day.

My parents were really mad at me and I was a failure and it was put on top of the ‘Corinna quits everything’ pile.  I have always resented that pile and it makes it easier for me to quit things.  To me it would be different if as a kid I were able to have tried things that I asked to try like singing and dancing the stuff I showed an interest in. Big deal I quit and failed at a bunch of shit I never wanted to do in the first place.  The areas I excelled in naturally I was not nurtured, or believed in or coached in on any sort of scale that was positive.  I was instead considered a problem child.

I don’t like being away from home to the point that I have issues just going over to friends places, I tie it in with my social anxiety and do my best to have people over to my place.  I don’t even like being bare foot in other people’s places.  It feels icky to me. I did not spend the night at Adam’s place even one time before we moved in together.  These are my issues I don’t think any of my friends or acquaintances places that I have been to are unclean.

With all that said, I am cutting my trip short and will be home this week.  I am pretty pissed off at myself to be honest because I was doing okay, I was facing the challenge of being away so long, pushing myself, stepping outside my comfort zone but when I started to crack I handled it wrong.  I’m getting really tired of this trait of mine.  Even if I just throw a mini flip out it is still a flip out and it isn’t like I don’t know the proper ways to communicate.  And I’m staying with my very best friend, she has been there for me through EVERYTHING and I mean EVERYTHING, she knows about ALL of my awkward and bizarre corks.  So when I started to get depressed and not just homesick depressed but DEPRESSED and I just wanted to sleep and pick fights with Adam, I should have said I wanted to go home but I let it fester and got grumpy.  Turns out even Rhonda was surprised I agreed to come for so long. But I wanted to help my friend out and test myself and I suck at saying no.  I’m disappointed I didn’t change my ticket days ago because it would have saved me some grumpy angst filled days.  Thankfully I am dealing with someone who accepts me.

have you ever wondered why paul simon only gives us these 5 ways to leave your lover in a song inaptly named 50 ways to leave your lover
so did we.
wonder no more. in honour of Halloween and our sick minds having nothing better to do, ABC and i bring you what we feel paul simon MAY have chosen as possible ways.

Paul Simon’s Original Ways

you just slip out the back, jack
make a new plan, stan
you don’t need to be coy, roy
just get yourself free
hop on the bus, gus
you don’t need to discuss much
just drop off the key, lee
and get yourself free

45 Additional Ways

shoot her in the face, ace
leave on a jet plane, jane
cut off his leg, greg
hammer in her brain, raine
lock him in the morgue, borg
stick her with a sword, gord
bite off his cock, spock
stick her with a shank, frank
cook fatty foods, contributing to his heart disease, louise
whack her with a bat, pat
have an affair, clare
bop her car with a glock, doc
feed him to a demon, eamonn
hit him with a brick, rick
cast him into hell, nell
grind her flesh into macaroni, tony
push him off his bike, mike
snip her e-brake, jake
weld closed her flu, lou
toss a grenade, jade
bomb her, dahmer
hire a hitman, fran
leave her in a ditch, mitch
lock him in the sauna, lana
stab her in the ass, cass
give him ebola, lola
freeze her in ice, bryce
throw him in the cage with a baaaadaassss panda, miranda
leave her in a gator’s death roll, joel
have his murder committed by people in your commune, june
tie him to a sled, fred
club her with an ancient artifact at the museum, liam
hang him from a tree, marie
make her watch Full House, clause
give her crabs, babs
take a dump on her rug, doug
drop him off a bridge, midge
poke out his eye, di
fuck him to death, beth
kill her in the sack, zach
beat him with a lock in a sock, tupac
ditch her at the mall, jamal
clock her with your sand wedge, reg
leave her at the altar, walter
show him the guillotine, eileen

2007
2006
2005

For a while now people on Twitter have been linking to a site called Mixwit where you can make and post your own mix tapes which was only one of my very favourite things to make as a kid.  The songs even cut off you know like when you’d press the stop or pause button too soon.  I miss those days so it is no surprise although I tried to avoid it that I’ve become addicted already to making mixed tapes.  The song selection is not as strong as I’d like it to be which has unfortunately affected the meager three tapes I have made thus far but they are of course still good and contain more artists than just Neko Case I promise.

greeper mus-ac un is a sampling of cool songs I enjoy, there are five of them.  Enjoy.

greeper mus-ac deux is a sampling from our wedding cd which is now a TAPE.  Enjoy.

greeper mus-ac trios is a mellow driving TAPE dedicated to Adam and his old 1964 Chevrolet Impala two door with a 283 C.I. V8 [whatever that even means I texted to ask him what his old car was] even though he is not a John Denver fan he says John Denver is better than Barry Manilow so he can sleep in the same bed as me. Enjoy.

I knew the day was going to come where I would sign into Facebook and it would say that I was going to be forced to change to the new Facebook. Bloody hell the day came.

I know people including Adam who refuse to even look at the new platform, I looked at it almost barfed and went back to the old one ruing the day they would force me to change over.  I’m a pattern person, I have issues with change, I accept it but that doesn’t mean I ever have to like it and as long as I know what I’m talking about or at least think I do I don’t have a problem complaining about it.

Sometimes Adam doesn’t trust the internet so when he signed up for Facebook he used the very formal Acronym Bradley Carlson and put up a photo that he looks like the REALZ Haley Joel Osment in.  The photo part is irrelevant I’m just mentioning it because I think that maybe the number one thing that Adam misses about Facebook is that Haley had just accepted him as a friend.  Who knows where that Facebook friendship may have gone, I mean the resemblance is pretty uncanny.

One day Adam got pissed off because Facebook would not stop trying to encourage him to check out the new Facebook and so he sent them an email;

i do not want the new facebook platform thank you for pushing it on me every time i log in. i can feel your lack of humanity. your ads suck

To which Facebook responded with,

Hi,

I aplogize for this inconvenience, but your account has been temporarily disabled because it was created with a fake name. Fake names are a violation of our Terms of Use.  Facebook requires users to provide their full first and last names (i.e. no initials).  Nicknames can be used in the form of FirstName ‘NickName’ LastName, but only if they are a variation on your real first or last name, such as ‘Bob’ instead of ‘Robert’.  Additionally, please note that impersonating anyone or anything is prohibited.

If you would like to use this profile again, just get back to us with your real name, and we will reactivate the account for you.

Thanks for your understanding,

Homer
User Operations
Facebook

To which Adam responded with,

My full name is Acronym Bradley Carlson. Please reactivate my account.  If
your terms of use prohibit middle names, feel free to remove the Bradley.

yours truly,

Acronym Carlson

To which Facebook responded with,

Hi Acronym,

Thanks for providing this information. At this time, we cannot verify the ownership of the account. Please send a scanned image of a government issued ID (e.g. driver’s license) to idrequests@facebook.com in order to confirm your ownership of the account. Please black out any personal information that is not needed to verify your identity (e.g. social security number). Rest assured that we will permanently delete your ID from our servers once we have used it to verify the authenticity of your account.

Additionally, you should make sure to copy and paste all of our previous correspondence into your message when you reply. Once we have received this information, we will reevaluate the status of the account. We apologize for any inconvenience this may cause.

Thanks for contacting Facebook,

Don
User Operations
Facebook

To which Adam responded with,

The irony of this whole situation is that I usually use a nickname when i
fill in forms because everyone always assumes I am using a nickname when I
write the real one. So I thought that on this platform I would for once use
my proper name so everyone could find me. I appreciate that you dont believe
my name to be Acronym Bradley Carlson, but I will not be persuaded to
provide you with copies of my identification. Please don’t take this
personally, I do not hold anything against your company, but I would never
provide such sensitive or private materials to any party on the web. I am a
little surprised that people would volunteer this type of information.

Too bad my name isn’t Rob Armstrong we could have avoided this whole
misunderstanding. Please reactivate my account, my wrestler is getting weak.
And I don’t know who’s having a birthday. sigh

yours truly, Acronym Bradley Carlson

To which Facebook responded with,

Hi,

Unfortunately, without ID verification, there is nothing further we can do to help re-activate your account.  Rest assured that we will permanently delete your ID from our servers once we have used it to verify the authenticity of your account.  Let me know if you have any further questions.

Thanks,

Don
User Operations
Facebook

Adam has not responded further to them.  They are obviously pissed because he shot down their stupid platform we took a screen shot of the Acronyms page; of course those users won’t get kicked off.  I’m sure they feel they have valid rights to our government issued IDs but this is Facebook we are talking about the above policies are so stupid I can hardly wrap my head around them, and I like your name too Homer.  It seriously licks not being able to send him flare and kick his ass at wrestling. Fucking Facebook you suck sweaty clammy balls.

Today the love of my life [sorry Gus] turns 29. Although I am pretty sure that Adam and Gus were both born in August, and I know that Adam would never have a problem sharing his birthday with his furry little buddy but Gus is only fourteen this year, poor thing I’ve been saying she’s fifteen.

I can’t really think of anyone who reads here that doesn’t think that Adam is pretty awesome; I know how lucky I am, I’m thankful for every moment we have together and find it seriously hard to believe Adam was only twenty-four when we met. Wow.

My plan here is to tell you a pretty awesome story about Adam, it does also include me but it is a story that will make anyone who thinks Adam is awesome think that he is even awesome-er-er.

Ok, so for our second date I asked Adam to pick me up at my shrink’s office at 5:50 pm. I have always been a throw it all on the table kinda gal and didn’t see this as a strange thing to do because I don’t see any point in hiding my depression.

At 5:50 pm on October 2^nd 2003 I walked out of my shrink’s office to find that there was no Adam.

I waited.

And waited.

About ten buses had gone by at this point and I accepted that he was not coming. It was almost quarter to seven; I crossed the street to catch a bus home and called my girlfriend. I let forth a typical sob story. How could I have been so brazen as to think he would seriously pick me up at my SHRINK’S office? How could I have thought that after one date that ANY man wouldn’t be freaked out? On and on about how stupid I was. Good thing that therapy session had worn off on me and I was learning not to devalue myself and all.

But I had this funny feeling in my gut and as odd as it may sound the tears and the disappointment felt forced. I had never in my life had a feeling like this, normally I think the worst and the worst happens. I was insisting on the worst outcome in my head but my guts were sending out a resounding “this isn’t what you think, just hold on a minute here” feeling.

I arrived home to the beep that land lines in the early 21^st century still had to let you know that there was a message.

The message was from Adam, he didn’t have my cellular number on him and he was at the pay phone outside of my therapists office and he didn’t have a cell so he was basically waiting there for me and trying to catch me when I got home. I remember his message was ridiculously awesome, so sweet. He had as I’d hoped; gotten the time wrong, he did not think that I was insane. [yet] I wonder how many quarters he went through that night, I have never asked him but he got me on my home phone and explained and apologized and said he thought he’d fucked everything up and I said oh no no dude I thought I fucked it all up like WHO the fuck has someone pick them up at their shrink’s office on the second date?

Apparently I do.

This incident in our very new relationship is my second favourite story next to the one about how we met. When this happened and he wasn’t standing me up, that I had missed him by like five minutes, it showed me that not only was this someone who was willing to see past my shit but he wanted me to know that he was someone who could see past it and I felt bad because he felt so bad and I couldn’t let it slide that I KNEW, I KNEW it man, I did, I just wish I had have been able to give him the benefit of the doubt instead of giving a girlfriend an “I told you so” moment.

It also works in Adam’s favor on a regular basis now because just like I can say that he knew what he was getting into picking a girl up at her shrinks office, I knew what I was getting into with someone an hour late for a date. Somebody isn’t super good with time. But most women bitch and nag about that shit, I literally can’t, I knew, second date, the boy just ain’t good with time but at least he knows my cellular number now.

He knows a lot of stuff about me and he is still incredible to me, every single day. I know it goes without saying that I hit that jack pot but I’m saying it anyway.

I hope you have a wonderful 29^th birthday baby.

Love, your Old Lady.

WE GOLFED!!! We had not golfed a full round together since JUNE 23′2007. That is insane! Camera only lasted one hole which means there are only photos of me and no video.

There was a long civic strike and because we have a lot of respect for the wee pitch and putt in Stanley Park we did not even ONCE sneak on and play. We wanted to because a lot of people were doing it, but we didn’t. And with the onset of seriously nasty adult allergies golfing has become really touch and go for me. I can normally make it nine holes without a problem but have to re-evaluate at nine whether I can play the back or not.

The expensiveness that is golf, no car, and no shoes are the only things that keep us off real courses, we have taken our clubs on transit but saying that is a pain in the ass is a huge understatement. We do play a course with full par threes and par fours sometimes but not very often. And I used to play with my parents up north.

I find it funny that we both have the same approx $150.00 Odyssey putters complete with fancy covers and we don’t even play full courses but does it really matter golf is golf it is hard and fun no matter where we play. Adam bought me my putter for a birthday gift years back and then he decided that he loved that putter and he didn’t love any other putter as much as he loved MINE and so he ended up getting the same one for his birthday we can tell them apart because Adam plays golf left handed and I play right handed EVEN THOUGH I am left handed and HE is right handed. I KNOW that is the craziest thing EVER. Also, his cover is the standard cover that comes with the putter MINE is a white tiger named Rain Tamer.

I managed to putt off two pars and did not have a hole where I got worse than three over par. Thank paganism for that because I SERIOUSLY freak out if I get higher than +3 on a par three. I don’t freak out like I used to freak out but I still freak out. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again golf has taught me more about myself than probably anything I have ever taken on.

It constantly teaches me not to underestimate myself, and now that I am experiencing a time in my life where I have a lot more confidence I find myself able to acknowledge my accomplishments playing a game that requires a lot of skills that have never come naturally to me. Like patience, patience is something that does not exist in my world unless I make it.

When we went out on Monday I thought for sure due to my muscle loss and having not played in OVER a year that I would not be able to use my pitching wedge. I pride myself on being a woman who can play the entire course cept for the 100 yard and 95 yard holes where I normally use my nine iron. I can use my pitching wedge on the two longer holes but it really limits my chances of getting it on in one shot and I have to seriously grip it and rip it which makes me grunt.

Anyway, I asked Adam to make sure my seven iron was in our little pitch and putt bag assuming I would not be able to reach the greens. Umm wrong, turns out I have legitimately learned to golf and was ripping the ball over the greens and quickly switched back to my pitching wedge. I had some seriously bad shots and lost a SpongeBob SquarePants ball in a tree but I counted it because, and I SWEAR BY THIS thanks to Adam, that the sooner you stop cheating at golf the sooner you get good.

One of the reasons that I see a shrink is because I have emotional problems.

Talk about stating the obvious.

My emotions come in so many different sizes, shapes and colors; they are wild and hard to control. But I have had the pleasure of learning that for me controlling my emotions is also about letting go and acceptance.

It isn’t necessarily as cut and dry as saying, “I’m a crier”, because in some situations where you would think I am sitting balling about something I’m not. It puzzles me I always notice it and think to myself, holy shit I feel really bad about that shouldn’t I be crying? So then I will make an effort to cry, but nothing. I am a seriously bad fake crier I can not do it. But what I can do is cry my eyes out at the most inappropriate times and embarrass the living shit out of myself and then I’m also the asshole who used to find out someone died and started laughing instead of crying, or again, I just can’t cry. It is fucked I tell you. I must have out grown the laughing thing, thank paganism for that but nothing has seemed to slow the flow of the water works.

This isn’t something you can mention in a session and expect and instant cure for; I have been the epitome of the above paragraph since I was wee kid. It has taken me five years of weekly sessions to even write about it. But this time my blubbering outbursts at the Triathlon World Championships and then in my therapist’s office had a different spin. It was from the perspective of being proud of the fact that I am so passionate about really fucking awesome things, like books and sports and friends in other countries, and people I’ve met through my blog and when I talk about books and movies and sports and people I’ve met through blogging who have helped me accomplish personal goals and helped me deal with my social anxiety I get misty eyed and I used to really try and hide it, behind things like my ugly prescription sunglasses, but just the other day when I was getting my hair cut I was telling my stylist about having my photo taken with Tri-Athlete, Lauren Groves and I got teary eyed and I had told her how emotional I had been that day in general and she looked at me and said “are you getting emotional now?” And I said “FUCK YEAH!” For the first time in my entire life I just came right out, didn’t try and hide it and owned my emotions. Because I know and am starting to accept that I feel the things and people I love so deeply that yes it makes me very emotional, I think I have stated that the Olympics on my turf could possibly drain me of tears and it may kill me.

This is something I could never figure out how to deal with, I despised it. It bewildered Adam to no end, I think we have grown together on this one though because I really have had no choice but to just let it all go, this is my husband and it hurt trying to hide the emotions, it would hurt when he would laugh at me because he didn’t understand. And the knots hurt my throat, playing the watery eyes off as allergies was fake and I’ve only had adult allergies for four years so it was also a flat out lie. And Adam actually knows me so excuses didn’t work.

This is me, see me get emotional over the finals of Wimbledon every year, see me cry when I talk about passages of my favorite books, the mere mention of Africa, movies that I think got it right with something that matters to me, see me be happy that other players are going to get to shine but still cry because no Tiger for what seems like ever, see me get teary over a Michael Phelps commercial, see me cry and scream watching Simon Whitfield come out of the water, watch me tear up sending emails and snail mail to people I care about telling them how awesome they are and not expecting a response. I could go on and on but I think you get the point. I cry, and it isn’t because I am weak and I’m finally learning to be comfortable with just how deeply I feel and how it affects me and how my body chooses to release that joy with tears but they are tears of passion for the things I love.

Vasectomy Series by ABCIV Post 1*

its hard to concentrate when you just took a nut punch from the doctor, but ill give you what i can. the ingenious thing about the “whiffleball” procedure is that you are completely distracted the whole time. as soon as your cock is out the nurse gives you a tootsie pop and flips on the tunes. i could not resist cutting a “mixed bag” disk when i saw the option suggested in the info pack. few things in life give me the pleasure that making a mix-tape does. working within the constraints of a theme is terrific.so peep this - welcome to my scrote:

Mixed-Bag

1. A Plea For Tenderness - Jonathan Richman + The Modern Lovers
2. Barber Shop - Tom Waits
3. There’s A Love Knot In My Lariat - Montana Slim (Wilf Carter)
4. Monster (In My Pants) - B-52s
5. Big Balls - AC/DC
6. Love Whip - Reverend Horton Heat
7. Broken Arrow - Buffalo Springfield
8. Multiplication - Bobby Darin
9. I Gotcha - Joe Tex
10. Bring On The Pain - Radiskull + Devil Doll (Joe Sparks)
11. The First Cut Is The Deepest - Cat Stevens
12. Bye Bye Baby - Big Brother + The Holding Company
13. Nutbush City Limits - Ike + Tina
14. Hot Pants - James Brown
15. Funky Worm - The Ohio Players
16. Pistol Packin’ Papa - Montana Slim
17. Don’t Touch Me There - The Tubes
18. Knock On Wood - Otis Redding
19. Hard Ain’t It Hard - Woodie Guthrie
20. Tiptoe Through The Tulips - Tiny Tim
21. Mama Told Me Not To Come - Three Dog Night
22. Gimmie That Nutt - Eazy E

*dicta-typed by wife