Archive for December, 2007


So…here’s my third post within 24 hours. No, I am not out of mind but if you read this you will understand why I soon will be. And why I will be for the rest of the year 2008.

Alright. If you don’t know the funny, little “game” or “competition” of “NaBloPoMo,” it’s this blogging thing where you write continuously for a month. You have to make a post every day. But the name kind of confuses me (I know you can all get the shortened version of the words.) The first one stands for: National. And yet, people blog from everywhere. Huh.

Oh well, I haven’t started yet so hopefully the people that monitor it won’t read this post and penalize me in any way for simply being a bit confused about that. It’s really not a criticism in any way, guys! Really!

However, as above, the last portion was for “month.” I said I’d be going crazy for an entire year. They haven’t come up with a “Ye” or a “Year” but now the game is to write a post every day for all of 2008. Yeah. HA! Oh…and if you didn’t link above and then go to the site and all, I do get February 29 off as this year is a Leap Year. Wow, I get a day off! Well, speaking of days off, tomorrow is the December 31. Okay, technically, I’m up past midnight…but maybe I should take “tomorrow” off too?!

So, get ready! PAs blog is going to waaaay downhill if she’s got to post everyday! Granted, it might be going (or has gone) downhill already…

So, if you want to hop on the bandwagon as well, hit the link but crap..not much time left? Another day or so depending upon your time zone…and if you’re just as stupid and/or impulsive as me…well, go for it!

And yes, there are “groups” you can join. Mine is “The No Way In Hell I’ll Blog Every Day Bloggers” Group.

Wish me luck. I wish you guys luck even more…

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I’ve got some more vacation time off over the New Year. I’ve been doing a lot of sleeping. I suppose that’s good–rest is important and I think I’ve needed it lately. There’s been a lot going on and I’m still trying to “sort out my life.” Yeah, that’s a good one, right? Quite a lofty goal?

One of my favourite quotes from a film was said to a character in “The Power of One.” I find it kind of interesting as I do live in my head so much and try to apply “logic” to a lot of my problems. However, sometimes, my heart does overrule.

Little beat big when little smart. First with the head and then with the heart.

If you don’t know it or haven’t seen it, feel free to check it out. It came out in 1992 and stars Stephen Dorff and Morgan Freeman. About a young English boy growing up in 1930s-40s South Africa. Politically messy and tough on the kid as he’s a Brit. He grows up striving for change. Oh, and his connection to Freeman is a talent for boxing and that is what keeps him going. Anyway, I liked it when I saw it back then and I bawled my face off. I had a copy but loaned it out and lost it. Oh, well.

Anyway, I’ve been doing lots of sleeping, yes and remembering some of my dreams. This is quite rare for me. I usually don’t remember them at all. I’ve never really been one for any sort of dream interpretation–especially if they are just a mishmash of events from the prior day or something. But over the recent past, well a couple of days, they have been very telling. Let’s see with all of this extra sleep if I have any more that I can remember. They somehow might help me sort out what the hell I’m doing with some of the current issue I have on my plate. Or plates!!!

And the vacation time. I have so much of it! After being off work for so long this spring and summer, I never took any more than one week when I moved. Then I immediately threw myself into the funny farm the night before I was supposed to return back to “active duty.” It gets carried over and not paid out so…let’s just say, I am loaded up with more time off than I know what to do with.

So far, this sort of…sitting around on my own, resting up and stuff hasn’t been all that bad. Maybe I can actually afford to take a week off and just hang out at home–and relax. I was really afraid that I’d go a bit crazy and it might not be good for me as structure and routine has always been important for me for maintaining good mental health. Or trying to maintain it?

Hmmm. Well, another song as I haven’t been blogging for a bit. “Dreams” by The Cranberries. I could have made some other selections but since my dreams of late have kind of been stirring things up…well, at least this song is uptempo.


I wanted to get this up on Friday but I became rather consumed at work and then later that night, I went out to dinner with a man from the neighbourhood. We hadn’t seen each other in a while so we had some catching up to do. Then we went back to his place and just kept talking up a storm. He is quite lovely. A fair bit older than me and truly an old school gentlemen as men of his age are or would almost be expected? I am never allowed to pay for our evenings out! And he took me shopping for groceries with his car on Saturday!!! Now, of course I had to pay for those…

I went a bit crazy. Take advantage of someone with a vehicle and buy a couple hundred dollars worth of food? Well, really…what a better thing for me to spend my money on, right? I’m actually quite pleased I have this amount of food. I don’t actually quite understand what this means. I suppose I was truly grateful for “Grocery Man’s” generosity (I think I’ll give him that as a nickname?) but it also could mean that my appetite is improving a bit and well…I have a sufficient amount of stuff to keep me going for a while.

He reminds me…well, of an “ersatz friend” that I had mentioned earlier. A bit older but very similar in a lot of ways. I haven’t seen this other man in so long. I can’t even remember the last time. It is sad. So, replace your old friends with new ones? Well, you can’t really do that–not completely. People you care for in your life are irreplaceable individually.

But I already covered “lost friends” earlier. However, this does tie into loss…just in a different way. Alright. On to Bhutto, etc…

Now, no doubt all the politico-bloggers out there are typing up a storm about Bhutto’s assassination on Thursday, three days ago. I really don’t have much (more) to offer in that respect.

Other than perhaps this: The world is a goddamned, bloody, fucking mess! Wow, PA. What a fantastic and erudite observation! Maybe you should enter the arena of politics, too!

So, it comes as no surprise that any leader–or ex-leader pitching to lead it again–of a country like Pakistan (or so many others these days) would need to consider the prospect of being assassinated. And she was a woman. And she was highly controversial. And the corruption allegations and scandals. And the fucking war that is going on and is there or will there ever be an end in sight with that?! Or is that the most asinine question to pose?

No, I didn’t read all of this terribly depressing news because of the politics or even Bhutto (although, I do find her interesting.) I read all of this, again, terribly depressing news because it made me think of my birth father. If you don’t already know, he is (was…I don’t even know if he is still alive) from Pakistan. If you don’t know the story of it, I blogged about it here. One error in the post as it was originally on my Blogger blog is something about a “list” in my sidebar but no matter. And also an “update” regarding my mother as this was written back in December 2006.

If you don’t wish to click on the link, here’s the basic rundown. In 1969, my non-bio dad had to go to Pakistan on business. The whole family went, my mother and my older sister. My sister is 5 years older than me. My mother who is completely mentally unhinged slept with one of the servants (the Westerners were treated almost like Royalty, right?) He’s my dad…my biological daddy.

I never knew this and found out completely by accident when I was 29. I mean, if it wasn’t for a slip from non-bio dad to a psychiatrist who documented it, I still may not know to this day. And I am quite sure that everyone in the entire family knew. Even my sister. Although she was just a wee tot when I was conceived and born, when I spoke to her later, she said that she had “overheard” some things when she was older.

I felt like such a “dirty little secret.” Well, I suppose I was. Rather taboo? I suppose for some women it still is or could be. And wow…my biological father could have gotten in so much trouble.

*sigh*

So, I completely tortured myself by reading all about Bhutto on Friday and thinking about the man who is my biological father that I will never know. Even what little I have been told about him is vague, conflicting, possibly warped by mom and non-bio dad’s ridiculously selfish perspectives. And certainly my own mother’s denial. They could even be lies. For example, non-bio dad told me that they were the same age. My mother told me that no, he was about 20 years older than her/non-bio dad (they are close in age.)

So yes, that brings me to my mother and I. On my birthday last year (early March) I finally “confronted” her about all of this over the telephone. Now, recall, I found out about this when I was 29–eight years ago. I held all of this in for a really long time for fear of basically driving her over the edge. I had only spoken to non-bio dad and my sister. And really, I felt that my mother held the key or keys to the kingdom. She was really the only one that knew…possibly any information? And due to her mental state…what could I get out of her?

It was a tough conversation. It was very circuitous and at times, full of denial and then some hints of truth would come out. I cried a bit, she cried a bit less? But at the end, she went right back into denial mode and said, “If this is what you need to believe, I won’t take that away from you.” That was…not a very good way to end the conversation. Again, it is the kind of double-talk you will invariably receive from her. Normally, I can do know wrong in her eyes as…well, it’s complicated as in the link above, there is reference to a possible miscarriage. I “survived,” as she still remained pregnant. Due to that fact, I was “chosen by god to live.” This is due to her religious grandiosity as she believes she is the second coming.

So, I am a god child. Who is perfect. I am a “chosen one,” too. Trust me…it’s quite a burden to grow up with. Especially when there was a juxtaposition that my sister was “evil.” Or at times.

So, regardless, to have the conversation end that way when I am always praised and given whatever I want was difficult. Things have improved to a degree…perhaps? Last spring, we did speak again of my biological father briefly when I came out of hospital and I had a visit with her. She actually referred to him as “my father.” I found that interesting.

She has also extended the offer to get together and talk about it and “tell me whatever she knows and can.” That might help. She also said she wants it to remain private and just between the two of us. That also may mean she might be willing to open up a bit and slip out of her denial and deluded state regarding it all.

I do not know. She is and always has been incredibly unpredictable. She can turn on a dime. I probably shouldn’t get my hopes up.

I’m going to stream something for my biological daddy now. “Cloudbusting” by Kate Bush.


Oh, wow.

I was making Shepherd’s Pie last night and crap. Everything was all ready to pop into the oven and I had a little mishap. I’d fried up my ground beef, added my spices and layered my veggies in my Pyrex glass dish. All that was left to do was mash my potatoes, put them on top and let it bake for a bit.

Now, I thought just to add some flavour beforehand, I’d throw some pepper into the mash. The lid on the pepper jar became loose! Loads and loads of pepper in and on my mash!

Goodbye Shepherd’s Pie as I only had enough potatoes for the dish itself–not a whopping, several pound bag. It was too late to prepare anything else so just grab something out of the freezer, throw it in the microwave, clean up the mess while awaiting the beep.

The whole thing reminded me of silly adolescents unscrewing the tops of salt and pepper shakers in greasy spoons or cafeterias so patrons can destroy their meals as well. Did a bunch of rotten kids sneak into my apartment and play a dirty trick on me? Did I in some bizarre, somnambulistic state decide to play a dirty trick on myself?

So, ready for number two? This might be more amusing?

Now, a lot of times things just fall out of my mouth. I mean, really ridiculous and embarrassing things. I’m not even sure how or why this happens as I am an intelligent person? Yes?

There is a cute girl that works at the Security Desk in the lobby of my building. When we pass each other, “Hello, how are you…” I was heading outside for a cigarette just a few moments ago and she asked me how I was. I told her that I was tired today and really just wanted to go back home and go to bed. As a follow up, this is what almost “fell out of my mouth.”

“…care to join me?”

Oh.my.god.

In my mind, what I meant was: Don’t you agree, feel the same way etc… Yes, something along those lines, right?

Oh, wow. (Part II)

Had I said that, it would have sounded like the most blatant and unbelievably outrageous come on. Or maybe it would have sounded rather smooth and sexy *laughing* I don’t know. I’ve never been very good at “picking up women.” Regardless, I am so glad those words somehow didn’t manage to escape my lips.

Oh, yes. And another reason that it was good I didn’t say that! There is a different woman that works on the desk and she is gay as well. I’m out at work–I don’t care who knows. I’ve actually met her partner during Gay Pride “celebrations” and she met ex-partner as well. So if she had heard me say that, I would have never lived it down!

She probably would have accused me of running around trying to pick up all the other women in the building too like some kind of sex-crazed maniac. HA! Well, unfortunately I’m not really a sex-crazed maniac anymore *sigh* My (hypo)manic days seem to be over… *wink*


I subscribe to the I’m A Blogaholic Blog and the latest post that went up today was to try and come up with a Post Of The Year for 2007. I see. Well, I thought this might be kind of fun. Or something. But what to choose? If you’ve been reading this blog since its inception–actually 13 months ago–you’ll know that it’s been pretty freaky at times! Alright, even if you haven’t been reading it since I started it, you still might know it’s been pretty freaky at times.

So, yes. Considering even the name of my blog, that already implies (or downright screams) that there is a certain amount of mental insanity flying around. And at times, it has not been pretty. So let us dispense with the “not been pretty.” No. That would not be appropriate here.

Where shall I go. In terms of complete insanity, I could just direct you to my “Hospitalizations” Category/Tag and you can read all about those. There are five posts that are about my previous/first five and during my sixth, last spring, I had computer access so I actually blogged madly, fast and furiously, like some demon posessed while inpatient. That might drive everyone as batshit crazy as I am as there are a lot of posts from that stay. A lot.

Okay, so I thought I’d just save myself a fair bit of time and go straight for the jugular (i.e. my “Humour” Category/Tag.) Let’s see what I can pull out of there that perhaps gave some people some chuckles and that I particularly liked as well. And even though the original post from the Blogaholic blog said pick just one…well, come on! However, I’ll try to pick just a few.

So, I could have pulled out all of the crazy search term ones that a lot of us like to play with but I thought I’d simply choose this one because it really was my all time best.

I kind of liked the one I wrote here about trying to manage my ADD. It was also submitted and accepted to Grand Rounds when I wrote it which is always nice. I really appreciate it when I submit my posts and the bloggers that host GRs put them up. So far, they’ve taken all of them when I’ve sent them and to me, that’s incredibly flattering as I’m a patient blogger and not a medical blogger. So, maybe you’ll find the above entertaining as well. “Funnily” enough, I only got one response and no one else commented that they thought it was funny. That actually made me laugh!

Alright, I guess this shall be the last. It made some people laugh as I think I got some comments elsewhere under different posts and not just the ones alone under the original itself. Wow, did I feel so sick after doing this. At least now that I’m living on my own I don’t have to worry about any cream in my fridge?

And I didn’t place this one under “Humour.” I need to fix that up.


If you celebrate this holiday today, enjoy yourself.

Please have a wonderful time.

I shall be going to a dinner tonight and it should be fun.

Try and ignore yesterday’s post. I sure am.

Sometimes, stress just gets the better of you.

We’re all human.

Is forgiveness part of the “message” of Christmas? I don’t know.

Well, I’m “forgiving” myself for having a bit too much to drink last night.


Yes, this is now what I am now what I am calling Christmas Day. “Poop Day.”

I apologize to everyone who enjoys celebrating it. I do not. I have been trying to squelch the memories from the past but they keep coming up. They started this morning in a brief flash and I shut them down but as today progressed, they increased and I could not take them anymore.

I know. Do not drink. Every one of you (or a lot of you?) have said this to me. But now/today it is a difficult time. In the “New Year,” okay…PA, get it together…but now, it hurts and it is too easy to escape. Believe me, it doesn’t make me feel any better about it.

But really, I must speak freely. This is a shite time of a year for me and it’s hitting me…well, I can’t gauge it more one than any other. When you are mentally ill, a lot of things can hit you hard but I do know that Christmas does hit me. It hurts me even though I don’t want to admit it. And as I said in my last post, it probably hurts more when I am alone? Yes, I think that is true.

Of course! You’re sitting by yourself and even if you don’t believe in all of the bullshit merriment, everyone else around you does or seems to. Or has a place to go? Or something to do? And again my stupid family memories that I said above that I tried to block out that I just…whew!

I am still struggling with calling my mother tomorrow.

But at least I went out and got some food. I did do some grocery shopping?

Fuck.

Tallis Scholars is back on the stereo. It seems I can’t listen to anything else these days.


I can not stand this. Does this happen to me every year? I can not remember. I think I block it out. Maybe not every year but probably every year that I am alone? I know that some statistics may say that this is the most difficult time for people that are mentally ill but I am not sure. It may actually be the “aftermath” of Christmas where everyone slips and slides into a “low” where all of the “fun and frivolity” is over–again, that is if you are not isolated and have no one to spend this fucking bloody holiday with.

Or the worst time of the year may be just every time of the year.

Wow, this is starting out to be one hell of a ranty post, eh? I’d better stop and get some Earl into me but I’m on rations which is another thing that is pissing me off. I am actually motivated to go grocery shopping (bless, Biphentin?) but I fear even though I am still a little(?) sick I may perish. We had eight degrees C yesterday with teeming rain and now it is -12 degrees C with the winds. Come on. Now, all of the wet of the rain is probably ice? Wee PA will no doubt slip and fall on her damn hill? And I need to do a large shop. Ugh. Perhaps, I can at least make it down to the closest convenience store and buy a few items?

We actually have Chrisco over here. It makes me laugh how people need to save away bits of money for well…how much food do you really need for Christmas? It makes sense to me to save your pennies over a year for a really expensive vacation so you don’t destroy your credit cards with massive interest rates that build up when you can’t pay it off after you come home from your vacation blow out.

Now, have a look at this selection from the “Mega Hampers” page. Alright, just look at the inane picture of all the food and then scroll down to read the list! How many people are you feeding???

*laughing* Okay, at least PA has a bit of a smile on her face now. Maybe she should start ordering from Chrisco to get some food in her flat but a) it’s pretty expensive and b) she’d have to wait a year! I guess she’ll have to start using her local online delivery service.

And a nod to Gabriel… for sending me “Virginia…” on my About Page. It made me cry but that’s alright. Crying is good. Cathartic and physically beneficial too. Okay…tea.

I just called the upstairs tenant. She was kind enough to drop off a Christmas present yesterday but I was out of it so I didn’t hear her knock (I have no doorbell.) It was home made so even nicer. She sounded down on the phone. She hates Christmas too. Well, at least I’m not the only one.

So, here I sit. I had forgotten how nice it was to actually have a decent stereo. Apart from CDs I can listen to radio. I don’t like mainstream radio. My choices are college radio where the students can make up their own shows and be creative and play some really great stuff.  I like the local jazz station and some classical stations, including our poor troubled and messed up, rather unsupported CBC. I’m not an expert on that but maybe Gabriel… knows more. I’m sure he does. But it’s an institution here so I’m sure it will never disappear. However, the jazz and CBC are playing too much Christmas tripe so I just can’t stand it right now.

I used to have a place where I am now living–in this neighbourhood. It was down by the water. I had to have it as it was so close to the water and I figured, I’d never live that close to water ever again in my life. No Malibu or coastal Florida for me. Or hell, even the French Riviera if I’m really going to really dream big. The flat was obscenely expensive for the size and I was obscenely in debt for my paycheque. But it had a tiny veranda and in the mornings on the weekends, I would listen to those stations, drink my tea and read the newspapers.  It was all very civilized.

Now, I am listening to the Tallis Scholars. Is that a good idea? Too depressing? But it is morning and not a moment for anything too loud or bouncy.

Well? I’ve got tonnes of laundry to do. That might keep me busy for some time today. And tonnes of thinking to do but…I guess there’s only so much of that your brain can handle. I seriously thought mine was going to “plotz” last night. There. That’s something that’s rather “Anti-Christmas!” If one reader is out there picking up this post…well, she might get a chuckle out of that.

Alright…time to stream some songs and nuke the Indigo Girls, I guess. Well, not really–they are quite great gals.


I’m sick. Hardly a tragedy, I’m sure, as I know I’ve probably gotten sick over holidays past. Certainly during vacations. That may qualify as a tragedy?

I got a gift from my boss. She always gives things to all of the staff, yummy treats but I get those and something a little more special as I work directly for her in a greater capacity. I opened a little brown box and inside was a tiny ceramic…well, box…with a cat on it. She knows I love cats. It’s red and very nice. It almost looks like it could have been made in the 20s or 30s? The thing is, the cat looks exactly like mine that died in the summer. *sigh*

Now, of course she meant no ill will! I have a picture of him and the girl I had both before and with him who died a few years ago at my desk. I don’t recall if she’s ever paid attention to either picture or maybe she had just not remembered. But that was kind of a weird shock. It is lovely, though.

Escher came over on Friday night and we had our little “Christmas Party.” I said to him, I’d just order a pizza for dinner. He called me later on and said that he’d bought some “appetizers” and a couple of “stocking stuffers.” I gave him shit again for spending yet more money! Argh.

He brought some smoked salmon, some brie and rolls. He also bought some Freixenet. It’s not champagne but a decent enough sparkling white. I gave him some money to cover costs. I said to myself, “You know, you should probably cut this guy some slack. He really is so nice.” I mean, he does drive me a bit batty at times with his neediness. It’s a bit like a yo-yo or a merry go round trying to communicate with him about our “relationship.” At times, he leaves me alone when I need to be, then we go back to the several calls, sometimes daily. And it’s not like I don’t mind spending time with him. He’s an intelligent man and we do have great talks but he does drink too much. That’s not good for me. He’s often said, “When we get together, we’re like a house on fire.” That might be one way to describe it? And sometimes he can act so mental!

It has gotten to a point of late, where I have had to be very frank with him about some things and that is very good for conflict avoidant PA, actually. I told him this and that well, he has at least “taught” me that–it’s always good to learn things from people that come into your life. But one night, he almost became so demanding about how to “address” things that he gave me an ultimatum. I said to him that the majority of times when you give people ultimatums it does not work out in the asker or giver’s best interests.

Another thing he mentioned on Friday night was that he had recently met a straight woman so that might “take the pressure off” his attraction for me. Wow, let’s hope so as I firmly addressed that as well. I do not know. I also had to “address” some news that I knew would disappoint him. On Christmas Day, as I have mentioned previously, I have an invite to dinner from a woman in the neighbourhood. Now a while back, maybe a month or more ago, she had casually invited Escher as well while we had seen each other for drinks. Or rather just bumped into each other in the pub. Fine. I wasn’t even sure if I would be around as a vacation with ex-partner was on the table. Well, I’m still here so obviously it’s not anymore. She’s got other things that have occupied her re: work and such.

So, I ran into this woman and she told me everything was still on but she had to invite some other people. I asked about Escher and she said that sorry, there was just no more room. Shit. I knew he would be upset. He took it badly. I tried to calm him down and eventually, he let it go. I just kept saying, “Come on…we’re having a good time!”

And we continued to do so. And yes, we got the stereo hooked up but funnily enough, the USB connection only supports MP3 units made specifically by the stereo’s manufacturer. HA! Oh well, I don’t care.

He called the next morning and I was completely knackered. I stayed up late listening to music on the stereo and well, we had a late night anyway. I did not sleep well. I do not know why. I didn’t sleep well last night either but there could be several reasons for this: Being sick, starting the Biphentin even though it is the same as the Concerta. Maybe the additional 4mg is…well, it shouldn’t matter but…I do feel more focused today, even though sick (but that usually happens when I titrate at the beginning of a new dose.) But my tummy is sore (never had any gastro upset with Concerta…) Maybe my tummy is sore from this virus.

Or…maybe it is sore and I couldn’t sleep (also due to all of my stress of late too!!!) but because of what Escher told me as well.

Apparently, Escher has Early Onset Alzheimer’s? He said that he was diagnosed just recently. Okay. He’s in his late 50s, he said that his father had Alzheimer’s and someone else? So genetic connection apparently? I mean, I just don’t know what to make of this guy. I must say, at first–and maybe this is just terrible–I questioned if this was just another ploy for attention. But whoa! I mean to joke about that! That’s not something to play with, in my opinion. And he is really not knowledgable about medicine.

Now, if this is the case, is this perhaps why I’m not getting through to him? Why the hell he’s not remembering what I’m saying? But then again, he drinks a lot. Is he having blackouts? Has the alcohol caused some kind of dementia? I was just looking up some things and yesterday (I felt completely awful finding out about this so I spent the entire day with him) he told me one of his favourite authors is Terry Pratchett. Erm…apparently Terry Pratchett has Early Onset Alzheimer’s? Coincidence?

Am I going insane here? And speaking of insane, he called me twice last night…or this morning? Once at 0500hrs!!! I’m trying to sleep! He wanted me to come over again today and at 0500hrs I told him I am sick. He’s called what…again three times today? His last message–at the time of composing this post right now as I am typing this(!) he said he deleted all of my numbers from his mobile phone so he wouldn’t call me and bother me when he was drunk–it would be safer that way. He said I need to work on my things and heal or get well or something. Well, yes, I do and I have told him that.

I called back and said, “Huh?” So…? End of…everything? Maybe a mistake on my part but he said no. He still wanted to be friends but it was all up to me and on my terms. Sure. I’ve heard that one before. I’m sorry. I don’t mean to sound so cynical. Or nasty. Or what. I don’t even know how I’m sounding. I don’t even know what is going on here.

I mean, if he’s really sick, how culpable can he be? Although, I’m not a neurologist, any kind of doctor and does anyone know how fast this progresses and/or where he may be and…WTF?!?!

Oh, I never mentioned this before as it seemed…well, no point and highly personal? But I asked him about it yesterday. Why he did it and the seeming or apparent rush for it. He is an only child, both of his parents are dead and really, he has no other family that he is close to (although he has some other “closer?” friends that he’s known for years…) He made me his beneficiary. I know. I argued with him that no…too much…not comfortable when he first told me he wanted to do it. However, I respect peoples’ “final wishes,” as it really is their choice, right? I wouldn’t want anyone telling me I couldn’t do whatever the hell I wanted to do with my assets when I shuffle(d) off this mortal coil. At least I got him to agree that I will not be responsible for his burial arrangements etc… That, I can not and will not deal with. Those are being done by his friends he told me.

I also asked him if he had told them about his diagnosis. He said he had only told me and his cousin who is a pharmacist or psychopharmacologist or something. However, I guess they are not that close for her to be his beneficiary or anything? He said telling his friends would kill them. I said that he’d have to tell them sooner or later?

This is so ridiculous…or it’s not…or it is… It’s making my head hurt. Along with everything else that is going on. And being all sick and achy? Time for more ibuprophen.

Like I said…the most bizarre Christmas on record?

I have a philosophy that I have mentioned to a few people. Maybe more than a few. It is that I don’t burn bridges. But if this goes on or gets to be too much…will I have to give him the heave ho? I don’t like to “abandon” people. Especially when they are in trouble. It’s happened far too many times with me when I’ve cared about them and if he does care for me–well, I know he does–it will hurt him a lot. I can hear you all saying, “PA, put yourself first.” But I am not good at that either.

Good grief. I don’t even know what to do with myself.


On the way into work this morning, freezing, waiting for my regular ride on public transit a group of us weary travellers stood shivering.  I was standing behind a woman who hailed a cab.  I figured she was simply running late–well, she actually was for an appointment.  She turned and asked me where I was going.  She could have asked anyone really, but maybe me as I was simply standing closest to her?

I told her that I was headed in the same direction.  She invited me in.  I said to her that I didn’t have any money with me to split the fare.  She told me not to worry.  We had a brief debate about it as I felt I just couldn’t do it! Finally, her insistence got the better of me and I also didn’t want to make her later than I thought she already would be.

I swear, I had to fight back tears the whole ride.  She was typical of a large portion of the poorer immigrant population here.  She worked for a wealthy family, either taking care of an older member of their family or their child.  I knew I had more money than her.  Her generosity overwhelmed me.

When I got out of the taxi, I finally let go and bawled like a baby.  I still had to take the remainder of my transit ride as she was going a bit further but I didn’t care if anyone saw me cry.  I really just didn’t.

I managed to barely pull it together by the time I got to work.  I still feel like crying my eyes out now.

I’ve decided to take the afternoon off.  Escher wants to come over so we can set up my stereo and my apartment looks as disgusting as I feel.  I need to go home and clean it up.  At least somewhat.  I know he probably wouldn’t care what it looks like but I do.

*sigh*

I’ll get to the couple of comments I have  in a bit.  If I’m leaving early, I’ve got to get some work done.  I just wanted to pump out this post quickly; get it off my chest as I don’t feel like telling anyone personally.  If I let it escape my lips, I’ll probably start crying again.