Archive for December 30th, 2007


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.