Shut my mouth...Literally!

I was thinking yesterday that there is something that really bothers me about life presently. I live in Quebec (THAT’s not what bugs me, I’m getting to it) and it is a majority of francophone province. I know that and I am fine with that. In this province we have a government office known as "L’office de la langue Francaise" or as it is more commonly known here in the province, The language police.

Now, for the most part it is a department with more teeth than brain cells active going around making sure that the general populace is not corrupted or seduced by any language other than French. Point of fact, in the mid-Eighties, they were fining and taking to court a bakery owner who had the word welcome translated into about 30 languages besides French and even though French was at the top he was told the other languages were illegal and the sign would have to be changed. This is also the same lot that had Eaton’S become Eaton! because apostrophe’s indicating possession are Anglophone.

But I digress, my problem yesterday arose from a training that I am receiving at work. It is as well a majority francophone establishment and the training is in French. I am cool with that. The thing is yesterday, I discovered that the materials, because the client company who hires my company has offices all over Canada, are also available in English. Apparently, because the company that I work for is in Quebec and has over 50 employees, training is required to be given in French. Of course! Because otherwise I might actually benefit from the training. At the best of times I am not overly fond of bureaucratic bull. I am even less enamoured of them when they inhibit rather than help the individual.

I realize that one of the main reasons that such an establishment is in place to protect the North American minority French populace which is a valid concern. I do not dispute that, however I am being penalized because of it and quite honestly that blows. Geez! Who knew I could speak so poetically.

All touch but no contact

I made an observation about my life yesterday. I realized that it has been well over a year since I have actually had physical contact with a human being outside of a handshake. I am the real life version of Rogue from the X-men except without the cool hairstyle and powers but I do have a gut which dwarfs her breasts in size so I suppose it’s an even trade-off.

You may ask how I got to this point. Really, it’s okay. Ask. I gave you permission. Because quite honestly I don’t know. I suppose it is a side effect from distancing myself from others. Maybe it is near toxic levels of B.O. but I doubt that one. I do shower or bathe once every 24 to 36 hours. Just so I don’t give anyone the wrong impression here, when I talk of human physical contact I am not necessarily talking about intercourse but simply even a kiss be it on the lips or the cheek or a hug (and no! Strippers don’t count ;).

It is interesting just how much we take our sense of touch for granted. At this point, I know that I have but I think I am now a better person for it. It has given me a better appreciation for things that happen day to day that you don’t notice. Like brushing your hand against that special person’s cheek or holding hands. When I was in my 20s, eons ago, I always thought that couples that held hands looked so dopey (of course later, in my first and only real relationship some might argue I carried my love in my arms for a block just to show I could). And to think, originally my topic was going to be a laundry list of "women I would do, given a chance". Not really, but I had you going there for a minute didn't I?

I might have been off-topic, if I had one

Well, I have been giving the topic of the blog a lot of thought lately and for the most part I came up with nothing. I have been drier than… oh man, I can’t even come up with a comparison. The one thing that does come to mind actually ties into a conversation I had yesterday with an attractive woman (read this as my version of kryptonite). I was the topic of discussion (She just couldn’t get enough of me, yeah, I don’t think so , seriously, she's happily married so I was just joking) and I made a confession that I seldom do. The statement was that I don’t necessarily like myself. I do accept myself and I understand the reasoning behind my actions but some improvement needs to take place before I can say that I actually like myself.

I think this stems again in part from that afore-mentioned need to please from an earlier entry. I have a bit of a fear of disappointing someone close to me, therefore I make it very difficult for someone TO get close to me. I think this also tends to attract me to women who would rather have their armpit hair removed with pliers than spend an evening out with me. The ones that are okay with it inevitably end up seeing me as the big brother they never had. Again, I feel that I have a certain lack of connection with humanity because I just can’t figure out why there are guys out there in relationships who fool around on their supposed "girlfriends" or the women will accept a guy that gets tanked and smacks them around or generally just don't give a damn for the person they are with. I realize that not everyone is the same so a single line of logic can’t be generally applied to all circumstances but at the same time, I don’t like mysteries I can’t figure out.

Maybe a previous commenter had the right idea. Maybe I am overanalyzing things and I just need to get laid. ;)

What the HELL was I thinking?

Hi again all. Well to update things a bit here, last weekend I went to a reunion of some of my ex-co-workers which leads into the title for today’s blog entry, ‘What the hell was I thinking?’ First off, I just want to state that I don’t have anything against any of, well most of those people, but quite honestly besides having worked with them I really have nothing in common with them. Basically, it ended up that I went to chat for about 30 minutes, blow $20 and feast on some of the eye candy available.

I did, in true John form, manage to place both of my size 12s in down to my trachea. I was not aware that one of my co-workers had been battling cancer and having gotten my hair cut extremely short that day, I told her that I thought that the barber had gotten a bit close on me but damn! She was cool with it but I still felt like a complete tool. Mind you the aforementioned eye candy did help make up for things although I have decided that one of them I will have nothing to do with basically because each time I try to talk to her it ends up being about as warm as a friendly chat with this computer. I wouldn’t say she is distant but I think SETI would have an easier time having a heart to heart with this woman. I don’t even know why I thought it would be that important to go. I think that over all I place far too much importance on the opinions of others and not enough time trusting my own instincts. I suppose I should take my own advice as such about maintaining friends, buds, pals, associates, companions etc. and treat them with the appropriate respect and consideration but no more than is necessary. I realize it sounds cold and heartless but hey, it’s that kind of world. Not the most heart warming sentiment to start the week off but maybe it’ll pick up as the week goes on

Times Past: Part 1 (?)

Okay, first and foremost, if you have been reading this blog on a regular basis of sorts, sorry for the two week + dry spell. Secondly, I am going to jump right into today’s point of discussion. It may be a bumpy ride so hang on tight.

Last Sunday, I was on Geoffjohns.com checking up on the news and general opinion in the realm of comics when I ran across a post which was somewhat of a call for help wrapped up in the guise of a farewell with a fairly permanent sound to it. I don’t know all the details and I respect the privacy of the poster by not prying. To what I understand, he has gone through a really rough patch and is trying to make sense of it all. Now I have "conversed" with this guy maybe one or two times via postings on the GJ.com message boards but I don’t expect to be on his Christmas card list (or Hannukah or Kwanzaa, I don’t know his beliefs or really anything personal about him) but from what I have been able to gather both from his own postings and discussions about him from other posters he is very intelligent, funny, and caring: all traits to be very proud of and beyond that lies mystery. I am obviously very glad that things didn’t turn out tragically in a permanent sense and that I hope I will be able to "chat" with him on the boards in the future to learn more about him.

As turn about is fair play, I feel that I should share something from my life along the same lines. It was, oof, eons ago, it feels like, I was involved with the young lady I had mentioned in a previous post, who I knew from London, Ontario and who originally came from Guyana. We had been together for some time and the discussion of moving forward in the relationship to the possibility of marriage came up (this was back when marriage was still a popular option for couples ;). I was working as a dishwasher at a country club at the time and she was from a fairly well off family in her home country with ties to the government and during her first year at University in London her cash ran low and she had to go through the Kraft Dinner and ravioli feasts that pretty much everyone has gone through from time to time and it scared her and so we slowly started to break up because she felt I wasn’t going to get much further in life than that (to which, I have more or less proved her right). Within a month, we were no longer a couple. I started getting tanked on Blueberry wine (which was her favourite) and calling up old companions basically to share my misery and ended up losing some companions because of it. Finally, I was miserable and considering offing myself. I was younger, emotional and felt that life had finally decided to go all out in its attempts to metaphorically whack me in the ‘nads.

Obviously the fact that I am typing this shows how it turned out in the end. The things that kept me going were first off, the idea of constant ongoing pain if I failed and I felt that would even include trying sleeping pills overdose etc because I figured they have to pump the stomach and dependant on the damage, well I won’t get into details. Secondly, I never leave a movie halfway through no matter how bad it is (which explains me knowing the full horror of having seen ‘Batman and Robin’ ) and basically I feel my life is like a crap movie with little or no plot, no romantic interest and little characterization (I’m so one dimensional, it’s scary).
Basically, I have been there, done that, taken the tour and bought the T-shirt. Accept the word of one who knows. My advice: You CAN look into the Abyss but to make sure it doesn’t win, stick your tongue out at it when you are there.