Talk about awkward

It's been almost a week since I asked Addie to be my girl and got rejected. I thought I could handle it, and I have, but it's been really tough.

I wanted things to be the same as they were. Yeah, I was that naive.

Now I realize that normalcy will be almost impossible. Addie and I have crossed a line which usually botches up many a friendship. Our relationship has lost its balance and now it's an ugly mess.

I can't treat her like I used to do before. Whenever I try to be as friendly as I used to, I find myself feeling awkward. It's like I'm angry at her for rejecting me, and that anger is blocking all my positive feelings toward her.

I don't hate her. After all, she did me a favour by turning me down if she wasn't interested. But she did hurt me, so there's a part of me that resents her.

All this awkwardness wouldn't be a problem except for the fact that she and I work in the same environment, so I keep running into her every five minutes. Talk about a dumb predicament.

I think I will survive. My friendship with Addie, however, may not.

Restoring my Granny's artwork

Take a look at this:



This print has been hanging at my granny's house since I can remember. It has a golden frame, not too fancy. When I was a kid, I stared at it and pictured myself being there.
It was a few years later that I realized there was a lake. It took me a little extra time to realize there was also a boat. Can you see it?

Anyways, the years and the sun made it faded and dull. So I decided to surprise my granny by restoring it. Of course, I can't restore the original print, but I took a picture of it and used good ol' Photoshop to bring it back to life. I think I did a really good job. I'm printing it and then I'm gonna use the very same frame the original had. I think she'll be pleased.

Saved you from a lame post

I was this close to posting while under the influence of 'down-in-the-dumps' syndrome. This can cause severe mood swings, that mostly turn to the darker parts of the loving Kz you know and cherish.

Yes, I was sad, and yes, I once again contemplated whacking myself (in the bad way). But I called a friend of mine and he managed to cheer me up a bit.

And some say friends are overrated.

Merry Christmas, you guys!

Shot down and I feel fine

Gather 'round, my kiddies, lemme tell you a story about a girl named Addie. She works as a secretary down at Lexcorp, and she's a really nice person. She's been a good friend to me for the last four years. After I became single once again, I began to feel attracted towards Addie. So I decided to act upon my feelings, and I got myself all gussied up and drove to her house. When I got there, I (very awkwardly) managed to get my point across: I liked her, REALLY liked her.

She didn't actually say no, but she did say the word 'friend' about a trillion times (You're such a really great friend... I've always considered you to be a special friend, etc.). She handled it really well, I must say. I was rejected, but in a very smooth and caring way. If I ever have to turn somebody down, I think I will use this very same strategy.

But a rejection is a rejection and it hit me like a ton of bricks. It was like a little stab at first, but when I was driving home with my tail between my legs, I got really depressed and all my self-loathing surfaced: She's right, why should she choose you? You are an ugly, worthless freak... You don't even have a decent job, you are a has-been, you should do the world a favour and off yourself, you pathetic piece of trash, etc. I wasn't mad at her at any point, it was all against me, for being such a pathetic suitor.

Being that my state of mind, I did the only logical thing I could think of: getting some booze in me. I called a friend of mine, and joined him and his buddies at the bar they were at. Nothing like taking a depressant when you are depressed, right? In the end, I never got past a good buzz, which is good. At the end of the night, I talked with one of the guys who's even unluckier in love than me: he's 28 and he's never had a girlfriend. Had my life been a bit different, I'd be him. Talking to him was really good, put me back on track.

Thinking over the evening's events, I realized that I wasn't really interested in Addie. I just wanted a girl, any girl. Loneliness can be tough. But I gotta be better than that, for the sake of everyone involved.

My kids and stuff

Today, my mom said, 'You barely got any patience, my son... I pity your kids!'
I snapped back, 'That's exactly why I'm not having any kids ever!'

She was teasing, but I don't know if I was. Maybe a bit, maybe not.

You see, the more I think about being a dad, the scarier it seems. I only see ways in which I would screw up. Geez, I do a lousy job taking care of myself... it'd be cruelty to subject a live human baby to my ineptitude. It'd be criminal, even.

Sir Kz

I was standing in line at the supermarket when a kid who wanted to cut in line asked me very politely, 'Excuse me, sir...?' Geez, what a way to make a guy feel old! No way around it: I'm thirty, whether I like it or not. And that's old enough to be called 'sir'. Oh well.

A very impressive anniversary

Today, my parents would be celebrating 32 years together if my dad was still alive. But my dad died shortly before they reached 30. Still... Thirty years of marital bliss! They could've taught the new generations a thing or two. Then people wouldn't be reaching for the divorce lawyer at the drop of a hat.

Not my best weekend by far

'Tis the holidays, even in Kzanderallia. The season of feasting and eating. No surprise, it's also the season of indigestion.

Boy did I have one this weekend. It started as a humongous belly-ache that just wouldn't quit. Then it got worse. Now, the rest of the details you don't need to know, but suffice it to say that it wasn't pretty. But having the runs never is. The worst part was feeling like a piñata after a couple dozen kids have beaten the heck out of it. Ouch.

Luckily, my mom and my grandma lovingly nursed me back to health. So much so that I will be able to go back to work on Monday.

Dammit.

Do you believe in Fate?

I dunno. It sure would be nice to just relax and let it take over. But a part of me says that if I let go of the wheel of my life, I will just go off a cliff.

30

I turned 30 today. My twenties were good to me, but this next decade will make or brake my life. Setting up my business, making a name for myself, it has to happen in the next ten years.

I must admit, I'm a bit nervous, you know?



Good thing is, I'm still not too old to wrestle with balloons.

Roof Sex

I was reading the latest issue of Print magazine, and they mentioned a short film called Roof Sex, which I promptly found at YouTube. Hilarious in an oh-so-inappropriate way.

Dark Humor

I was looking up "dark humor" on the Web, and found this quote by Talula Blankhead:

"I was raped in our driveway when I was eleven.
You know darling, it was a terrible experience because we had all that gravel."

Now that's dark humor.

I need a woman. I don't need a woman

As you can infer from this post's title, I'm in a bind.

On one hand, I yearn for the sweet embrace of a female. I want to run my fingers thru her hair, hold her close, etc. You get the picture.

At the same time, I'm fully aware that now is not the time for me to be thinking about a girl. I need to invest all my time and money into getting graduated. Girls will come later.

I guess it's a no brainer, right?

I like to be called too, dammit!

I am just pissed. Nobody called me or emailed me for a whole month. Not kidding.
Not. A. Single. Person.
Man, woman, animal, vegetable or mineral. Nobody.

Ok, I'm being a bit dramatic. Sure, I got the occasional call from work ("we need this, we need that") and a couple of calls here and there, but still. You gotta admit that two or three calls in a month is really damn low.

Of course, you can be nonchalant about it, but it kinda gets to you. I mean, I'm supposed to have friends. I've gone out with these people. We've gotten drunk together. We've been hungover together. However, it seems they just don't feel the need to grab the phone and call me. Bastards.

I miss Ivy so much. She loved calling me. She called me six time a day and always was thrilled to talk to me.

More from the Car Therapy Sessions

I've mentioned Car Therapy before, but there's also a big fancy name for it: introspection. Yep, as the name suggests, it's all about looking inside oneself.

Here's something else that has emerged from gazing at my navel: I look for women who need me. Why? Because of my insecurity. If I feel needed, it placates my fear of being replaced at a moment's notice. In my mind, if you aren't needed to some degree, then your presence is nothing but the consequence of a whim. And whims are subject to change.

And that just scares the bejeesus out of me.

Being single is cool, but...

Singlehood has its good things. You can come and go as you please, you can hang around with any crowd, hit on any girl you want and you get to keep your money for yourself. You can dress as you like and you don't have to be anywhere you don't want to. Basically, you have the freedom to be as egocentric as you want.

However, I still yearn for everything that comes with a romantic relationship: the cuddling, the companionship... the whole deal.

Lots of people talk about how you should be 'complete as a person' before you try to hook up with somebody. But if Evangelion taught us anything, is that we are all incomplete beings, looking for others to fill the empty spaces in our lives. Or something like that.

Good buzz on board

I am totally pumped right now. I have to do a million things tomorrow. I may have to give up sleeping for the next four days. Might as well. I've slacked off too much. The funny thing is... I'm feeling really good.

Dunno why. I just do.

Take my birthday, for instance. A while back, I was bitching about it. But now I find myself feeling totally positive about turning 30 and starting to make all the preparations for the nice soirée me and a few friends will be having on that joyous occasion.

Talk about a 180º turn, huh?

The final crunch

This is it. I gotta finish the graduation projects. I have to hand over one on Monday and the other one on Thursday. And my vacations end on Tuesday. I'm so screwed! Oh well. This is what separates the men from the... eh... people who can't come up with a good metaphor.

Thank you Andrew

This was a Halloween like no other. I went out with a few colleagues from Culture Publishing House. I had a few issues to deal with, so hit the bottle way too fast. Less than an hour later, I was drunk. Not too drunk, but I decided to call it quits anyways. However, I didn't want to spend the remainder of the evening at home. I started calling up people and the only one who seemed promising was Drew, one of my coworkers at Lexcorp. She (yes, it's a she) is very nice and stuff, but she's a devout Christian, so I knew that there wouldn't be any frolicking involved. But that didn't bother me. I needed to talk to somebody, and she's a great listener.

We met at a local pizza place. I showed her my Latin American drug kingpin costume and she had a good laugh with it. But mainly, we talked. And boy, I needed that. To talk with somebody who wasn't related to me and who'd listen.

I had a really great time. Sometimes I wonder if Drew and I... Hey, who knows?

Time will tell.

Ivy, the time sponge

I hadn't noticed how much time I invested into Ivy until she left. Suddenly, I found myself with horrible amounts of free time. I quickly realized that if I didn't do something about it, I would go insane.

That's when I decided to take another stab at getting my degree. Now I'm really close to finishing my graduation projects, and it saddens me to realize that I'm only able to get this far because I'm single. Ivy would absorb all my free time like a sponge. Not that I didn't totally enjoy giving all my time to her. I don't regret it at all, but being with Ivy and doing homework just didn't go together.

I remember a time when we decided that we were gonna attempt to study in the same room. It didn't work out at all. We lasted about ten minutes before we ran to each other. We spent the rest of the afternoon cuddling. Time well spent if you ask me, but no homework was done at all.

My lousy English

Granted, it's not that lousy. In fact, it's not lousy at all. It's really good. It should be. I've been speaking it since I was five years old. That's twenty-five years.

Of course, I know several school friends that started speaking the language at the exact same time I did and yet are very lousy at it. Here's why: I've worked at it, they haven't. I've taken it to myself to look for ways to practice my English. I buy magazines, I read books, I see movies, I watch TV, I listen to music. Dammit, I read to myself aloud once a day. All that effort has permitted my English skills to endure and thrive.

Now you gotta remember that Kzanderallia isn't an English-speaking country. In fact, maybe less than 5% of the population knows any English at all.

That's why I relish the opportunities I've had to interact with somebody in English. After all, nothing beats a conversation to solidify your language skills. So I talk to foreign people in Skype, I call English-speaking radio shows. I love talking to tourists.

Now, being a good English speaker is a great morale booster. Here's something I always do: before speaking to somebody in English for the first time, I devalue my skills, referring to them as meager or basic. That always prompts people to contradict me and say that I have a really good English for a foreigner. Of course I know that, but hearing them say it propells my ego sky high.

If speaking a foreign language feels good, imagine how speaking two or three will feel. My ego will just soar.

Here's to you

I recently got word that I am being read.

Yeah, I've been told that I had readers in the past, but I got the chance to talk to one of them yesterday using Skype and it was a really gratifying experience. It makes writing a blog more like a monologue and less like a soliloquy.

So, good reader, when you come across these humble -and not so humble- words, know that I am really grateful for your readership. And if you happen to feel like leaving a comment, then I'd be really grateful.

Happened again

I was down at the mall and I was waiting for the elevator. When the doors opened, I noticed that it was almost completely empty. Almost. Inside was one of the most beautiful girls I've seen. Her eyes, her face, her outfit, her body shape, her height... everything was just perfect. She and I exchanged glances and she smiled at me courteously. I guess I did the same, I am not sure. I was so profoundly flabbergasted by her beauty, I couldn't move a muscle.

A few seconds later, when the elevator reached her floor, she stepped out and I was freed from the paralyzing echantment that had overcome me.

God, I love women.

Adieu, Gustavo

It seems that I will not be able to attend Gustavo Cerati's current concert tour. All the good tickets are sold out for his Mexico D.F. shows. And since there is little chance he'll come to Kzanderallia, I guess I'll have to stick to obsessively listening to his records.

That sucks.

My weight is a no no

Today, at lunch, my mother jokingly commented that she was praying that I would lose my appetite. I didn't find it funny at all. In fact, I was very hurt.

My mom is concerned about my health. She thinks that my excess weight will kill me, and she's probably right. But right now, I am not extremely concerned about slimming down. Or rather, it does concern me, but not to the point to do anything about it right now. I plan to do so when I finish school, in a couple of weeks, when times aren't so stressful.

My weight is a very sore subject for me. I don't like people telling me that I look fat or that I should thin down. It's not that I am not obese or that it wouldn't be in my own interest to slim my body. But I believe that my weight is a personal subject, one that doesn't require public discussion. I mean, it's embarrasing. It's like people telling you you've soiled yourself or something. You feel so violated.

Practical tips from the car

These are important goals to improve myself, all courtesy of the Car Therapy Sessions:

New skills must be acquired. Magic, sports, cooking.

Culture must be kept at a high level. Books, magazines, movies, TV. History, mythology, art, poetry are compulsory topics to be reinforced.

New clothes must be purchased that work with my current body shape, without considering future changes. While desirable, body mass changes are also extremely long in their occurrence. When it happens, clothes will be adjusted and new items will be acquired.

Frivolous expenses must stop immediately, in order to allow for savings to increase. A cash base must be constituted for acquisition of tools of the trade as well as the implementation of a self-promotion campaign.

Now, if you excuse me, I have work to do.

My life, in a nutshell

Think Car Therapy doesn't work? This is what I've come up with in recent sessions:

I'm insecure, and I need constant validation to sustain my fragile self esteem. The most important kind of validation to me is female validation, for it allows me to see myself as an attractive male. Having lost my source of female validation, I currently seek to fill that vacant spot.

Filling that spot is currently a priority, but I am aware that I lack physical and financial features which would make me a more attractive male. Obtaining such characteristics will be a long process, one that may take several years and a heavy investment. I have to be aware of the lenghty time period and keep my expectations at a sensible level.

There is a very high probability that until a certain degree of those characteristics is acquired, female intake will be extremely low. Despite this, social contact must not be avoided but increased. A certain amount of networking will be needed to attain financial upgrades and to establish a solid reputation as a upstanding and hardworking male, which can lead to a more ample variety of female companionship.

When searching for a female partner, variety is important, as is a clear view of the qualities required in a mate.

Extra studies and a sharp increase in freelance work are a must to obtain the financial attributes I seek.

Deep, huh? Read on. It gets better.

Over time I need to reconstruct my self esteem, which -after several months of no validation - is currently diminished it to a fraction of its former size. The best option I have is to make a transition. I need to switch to a new source of validation besides women, but also I need to depend less on validation to sustain my self esteem. Finding an alternative way to reestructure and bulk up my self-esteem is a priority.

Damn, I'm so good, I even scare myself.

Therapy on wheels

I just needed a breather today. A lot of stuff went thru my mind, and I just couldn't handle it. So under the guise of returning some videos, I went driving for an hour.

You see, lately, my car has become my very own therapy room. I begin talking to myself, as if I were telling my life to an unexisting therapist. Sometimes I even start with a 'Good evening', to make the illusion complete. After that, the emotions, the conflicts, everything just flows. And it works. I see my life in a very clear manner, more so than I would otherwise. Of course, sometimes, life becomes too painful to see in its translucent wholeness. So there is a bit of crying, sometimes. Or lots. But it's all good. It's all part of the process.

It could work without the car, I guess, but seldom do I find spaces with such privacy. Imagine what would happen if I started talking out loud at home! Specially with the occasional sobbing involved. Unthinkable.

So today, after dropping off the videos, I just kept on going. I didn't go that far out, just about 13.5 kilometers, then turned right back around and drove some more. I drove around for about an hour, talking most of the time. It felt good. Really good.

Best thing of all? Car therapy is free, unless you count the gas. But when you think that I must've spent about 8 bucks on gas for an hour's worth, it's still the cheapest way to mental health I know.

I should put women out of my mind

I should, I really should. They're an expensive, time-consumming hobby. And right now I need to pool all my resources into getting my diploma. Women love men with diplomas. They make us look sexy. Although, in my personal case, I think I need about fifteen diplomas to do the trick.

Drinks with Bruce

I met up with Bruce today. Our excuse was that he needed some dough and I agreed to give it to him as long as he got me the number of a girl he knew. Besides our little transaction, we had some shrimp cocktails and then we headed out to a bar, where each of us had a tall glass of beer. Oh, and some munchies. Can't forget about them munchies.

We talked about stuff. Bruce is one of my oldest friends (25 years) and even though our tastes differ enormously in a lot of ways, we share views in a few aspects of life. Sometimes he asks my advice (although he usually never does what I tell him to). And sometimes I do the same (but I do follow his advice).

We talked about him finally getting this big job at a corporation. He's gonna be earning about three times what I earn now. Yeah, I'm envious as heck, but nobody told me to take on the Lexcorp job anyways.

We talked about me getting back on the horse. The relationship horse, I mean. His advice was not to dispair (it's a loooong process), and not to look for girls at a bar. Most of the time, that goes awry. He should know. He's picked hundreds of women since he was 15.

He also says that looks are overrated, and that women over 25 are more open to going out with a guy with an flawed physique such as mine. Dunno about that one. I mean, what does he know? He's looked buff ever since we were in the sixth grade.

Once the beer was filling our bellies, the bill was paid and we headed out. Till we meet again.

Dear Valy:

I'm fed up with you. I bid you farewell forever. Hope you have a nice life, as long as you stay the hell away from me.

Yours truly,

-KZ

Well, that's something you don't hear everyday

Guess what a classmate told me today! He told me that when he met me, a few months back, he figured I was gay. I was surprised by his comment, but not as much as how I reacted: I was totally cool with it.

Really.

I guess several factors influenced my reaction. First of all, the guy wasn't doing it to provoke me. He was very sincere when he told me, and I could tell. Also, had the comment come from somebody else, my reaction could've been different.

So far, this incident hasn't made me become concerned about projecting a sufficiently macho image. After all, it's not like this kind of thing happens all the time. If there's one thing I'm secure of, it's my masculinity. I mean, in the past, I've worried about not being tall enough, not being cool enough, but never about not being man enough.

But hey, it happened to Chandler too.

Life goals

I've been thinking about my goals in life. This is the list so far:

• I want to learn more and improve my skills to be a more effective designer.
• I want to improve my relationships with my friends and my family.
• I want to lead a healthy life as much as possible.
• I want to help people.

There used to be a couple more in there, but I scratched them from the list:

• I want to get married and be a good husband
• I want to have kids and be the best father ever
• I want to be remembered
• I want to have a legacy
• I want to make a lot of money
  

They all seem too much whimsical and selfish. Let's go over them one by one.

Marriage. I've been thinking about it. I really want to do it. I want to find a girl who will love me for who I am, etc. But do I really want to get married, or is it just social pressure? And just why am I in such a hurry to be wed? Sure, I'm getting older by the minute, but that's no excuse.

Kids. Whoever said I'm qualified for that? And just what kind of an example am I gonna be? How can I demand that my kids study hard when it took their old man 12 years to graduate?

Being remembered, having a legacy. That is a reasonable thing when you've led an exemplary life. My life is just an undending screw-up. At least they were funny screw ups.

Making a lot of money. No kidding, Sherlock! How much time did it take you to come up with that wonderous gem of an idea? Of course everybody wants to make money. But, guess what? It takes business savvy, talent and lots of hard work to succeed. Just to things you don't have.

A kindred spirit

Back in 2004, writer Rachael Combe wrote an essay entitled The Guilty Bride, in which she explored her switch from a stauch feminist to a woman thrilled by the prospect of wedlock.

Before she met her fiancé, Combe couldn't imagine herself as a married woman. She only envisioned her future self as an eternal spinster. In her words, "It wasn't that I was against marriage. I was just open to the possibility that it wouldn't happen for me. I knew that for a white, educated, middle-class woman like myself, the statistical chances that I would marry were very high. But I figured that when you're playing musical chairs, someone is gonna be left without a seat when the music stops. Maybe it would be me."

Sound familiar? Of course. It's what I've been saying all year long. I keep thinking that I'll be a life-long bachelor. But this article has reminded me that it ain't over till the obese lady breaks into song.

Tony knows best

I recently acquired Tony Bennett's Duets: An American Classic for my mom. She was totally thrilled when she got it, and even played it twice in its entirety that very same day.

There is something to this kind of music, I must say. After listening to it since then, I am becoming a fan too.

I have specially enjoyed "Rags to Riches":

I know I'd go from rags to riches
If you would only say you care
And though my pocket may be empty
I'd be a millionaire

Love is grand. Ain't that the truth?

Album Art Wars!!

Now this was funny.

What do I want in a girl?

I was having a conversation today and it got thinking about what I like in a girl. I already had stated a few criteria about it. I am currently thinking those over. Specially the age bracket.

I have two choices:

Older women (25-27) are more secure and are less inclined to look for focus on one's apperance. They also tend to focus more on where the relationship will take them. Basically, they keep asking themselves Will this man make a good husband?

Younger women (20-24) are less interested in settling down, and are more interested in having a good time, with an attractive mate by their side.

However, being neither specially attractive nor financially stable, you can easily see why I'm screwed no matter whom I choose.

Fonz's girl

I was talking to Jaq just now. She's my friend Fonz's girlfriend. I've mentioned her once before.

It's funny, you know? I see a lot of things in her that I would really like to find in a girl: drive to succeed, intelligence, social conscience. She also looks really good. And did I mention how nice she is? She's got the whole package.

I think by now I don't have to explain to you that I basically have a Jessie's Girl thing happening here. This is wrong, so very wrong. Talk about walking myself right into a minefield, right?

Luckily, I don't get to see her that much, so I'm good for now. If that ever changes, I'll be screwed.

Let's talk about porn

In this post, we'll talk about pornography. It had to happen. I'm not surprised I ended up talking about it, just amazed that it didn't come up as a topic earlier. Relax, we'll deal with the subject matter tastefully.

I just want to talk about how funny porn can be.

First of all, porn happens in an alternate universe, where all the women are ultra horny, even more so than the men. A couple can meet for the first time and five minutes later, they're ready to do the nasty. Which they do. Several times.

Women? Horny as hell? Laughing already.

Men have monstrous beings akin to anacondas in their pants. They are always ready. Always. I can only imagine the poor fellas have to wear special clothes to fit those... things. And they can last ridiculously long times. Ten, fifteen-minute erections are nothing to the guys.

Fifteen minutes? C'mon. That's funny right there.

The positions are certainly different. In order to allow the camera to 'get in there', the players have to assume several unorthodox ways of copulation. I won't go into details, but they're pretty acrobatic. Even uncomfortable, I can imagine.

Next, a few hilarious happenings from the land of porn.

-Two words: group sex. It can happen to you. Anywhere.

-Women wearing shoes during sex. I've never quite assimilated that. It's a very kinky thing, and you see it so much that you almost expect it nowdays. However, despite the fact that that shoes make women with ugly feet look good on camera, it's still weird.

I could keep talking about porn way more than I should, but here it is, in short: porn is funny because it's totally surreal. It's a window to a world free from inhibitions and society standards. A place where logic, and intellect are subdued by passion and 'getting it on'. Where even the dorkiest, ugliest kid can be a king if he has a big shlong.

Dammit, I want to live there.

My eyes

They are dry, and I am takin some pills.

More on this later.

Two important firsts

Tonight, for the first time in my life, I fell off my bed.

Also, more proof I'm becoming a metrosexual: I'm mosturizing, for crap's sake.

I'll expand on both later.

Talking in the midst of songs

For unknown reasons, some artists find it interesting to add spoken dialogue to their songs. I guess it must work sometimes, but mostly it feels as if you were peacefully listening to a song when somebody decided to walk in and start talking his mouth off. You're like, "Shut up! I'm listening to a song here!" But you can't shush them, they're part of the very song you're listening to! It's truly maddening. I like my songs to be, you know, sung. Is that too much to ask?

My humor

I was thinking about my sense of humor today. This is what I came up with.

1. I am a fan of the non sequitur. It's basically saying a phrase that has no relation whatsoever with everything said up to that point. I love its potential for shock, which is a really cool way of making jokes.

Example:
-So what are you gonna be doing today?
-Killing a South African President. You?

It's the kind of humor that gets you labeled as 'weird' really fast.

2. Another favorite humoristic tool of mine: the double entendre. It's saying one thing while meaning another.

Example:
-People should just let me do my thing!
-If you decide to do your thing, remember the K-Y Jelly.

The audience has got to be really sharp for that one. Most people aren't.

3. The hyperbole. Man, I can't live without that one. It's taking something ordinary and making it huge. Jhohen Vasquez used it a lot in Invader Zim.

Blogging: a serious matter

It's a bit frustrating, you know?

For every anecdote you see in my blog, there's four or five that aren't there.

There's lots of stuff that should be immortalized in a blog entry, but it's practically impossible to be able to put it all in.

First of all, there's the stuff I forget. And then there's a ton of stories that don't make the cut because, simply put, the writing process is hard. Believe it or not, it's a bit exhausting to sit in front of the 'puter, organize my thoughts and write it all down. I mean, it can take me about 30 minutes or more to write (an rewrite) a single post. No, I'm not a slow typist, more of a slow thinker. I just don't have the energy, nor the time. So I have to prioritize. I have to choose which stuff needs to be told, and which is kept under wraps for a while, maybe forever.

And here you thought blogging was piece of cake.

David Duchovny would feel right at home

My blog reminds me of the X-Files.

No, my sister wasn't abducted by aliens, and I don't have a hot redhead as my coworker. The comparison goes like this: X-Files had two types of episodes. The 'monster of the week' episodes were very approachable, didn't require any previous knowledge of the series, and could be watched in any desired order, as they did not have continuity (By the way, I loved those.).

The 'aliens story arc' episodes were a bit more complex and were kind of difficult to watch, as they involved a lot of mandatory previous knowledge of the series. And you had to watch them in a set order or you wouldn't understand a thing.

Now, my blog has two kinds of posts as well. The 'Wacky World of KZ' posts feature my comments on issues ranging from the obscure to the profane. Anybody can read them. Guys with ADD love them.

The 'KZ's Life' posts are a bit more difficult to follow, as many require a bit of previous reading. I try to link back to previous posts to make things a bit more understandable. They are also drenched in drama.

Can you tell which kind is the next post?

Robert Palmer, Where Art Thou?

They don't make videos like this. I'm talking about Robert Palmer's Simply Irresistible. What a video. It wasn't an original concept, just a bigger and better version of Addicted to Love, but who cares? It was totally awesome. The Addicted girls weren't all that good looking. But the video guys outdid themselves with Simply. I mean, the sight of so many gorgeous ladies, moving like beautifully made robots... Unforgettable.



A fact worth mentioning is that despite the total lack of nudity or obscenity in it, this video is one of the most erotic things I've seen. Fellows, wouldn't you agree?

Sad stories suck

SPOILER ALERT: In this post I will talk about the plots of two movies. Don't read on if you dislike being told how a movie is gonna end.
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I don't really like sad stories. I like to avoid them as much as possible. But sometimes they come at you out of nowhere.

There's this very talented young lady down at YouTube, who calls herself Joyride13. She makes little videos where she sings like an angel. One of such vids was a cover of Only Hope, which happens to be a song that Mandy Moore sings in the 2002 film A Walk To Remember. Curious as I am, I headed to Wikipedia to know more about the film. Here's the short version: Boy meets girl, they fall in love, girl gets sick, boy and girl get married, girl dies.

Why does it sound so familiar? Oh yeah, because that's my story.

By now, you probably know that I lost my fiancee Ivy almost a year ago to a terminal illness. So this kind of stories really get to me. Really.

Back in 2001, Ivy and I went to see Sweet November, which has pretty much the exact same plot as the aforemented picture. I already knew by then that Ivy was really sick, but I hoped that the illness would be controlled and she could lead a normal life. Her whole illness had me worried, but I tried to bury it down within.

However, seeing Charlize Theron get sicker and sicker onscreen was too much to bear. I had a sudden flash of myself in the Keanu role, staring Death in the face. All my fear, all my anguish, everything that I had managed to repress came out through my tearducts in an efervesent manner. I had to step out of the theater, to sob my heart out. When I came back, Ivy asked me what was wrong, and I just made up some stupid thing to cover it up. I mean, I wasn't about to tell her, 'I am really afraid that you may die on me.'

As I was reading the synopsis for A Walk To Remember, I was overcome with sorrow and pain in less than a second. Before I could realize it, I was sobbing again. Personally, I find it amazing how a few words had such an impact upon me. I mean, with Sweet November, I was seeing it on the screen. But this was just reading. I guess the difference is that I now have some deeply embedded imagery inside of me, which the words managed to stir up.

I guess what really moved me was the fact that Mandy Moore's character knew she was gonna die, and had made a To Do list, which was fulfilled by her loved one, played by Shane West. The last item on her list? Getting married, which they did shortely before she passed away.

Ivy wanted to get married too. She wanted to have kids. But I couldn't give any of that to her. We just didn't have enough time. We just... didn't.

I'm sorry, baby. I really am. Please forgive me.

Let's wait a bit

I keep forgetting that getting a worthwhile girl is gonna take lots of time. I have to change a lot internally and externally before I can get a girl. I need to improve my approach, my confidence. I also need to take better care of myself. But I lack the motivation. It feels as if it is an impossible quest.

I need to be patient. I need to wait till the time is right.
Relax, KZ... can you do that?

Marriage and fatherhood angst

I really want to be a husband and a father. But should I?
Maybe I'd be doing the world a favor by not procreating.
And marrying some poor girl seems like the cruelest thing I could ever do.

Yeah, I'm being melodramatic, but I'm feeling kinda down.

And right now, it does feel like I'm asking for more than I'm entitled to, like I don't really deserve to be married and have kids. I'll tell you this: If I am to be a lousy father and a crappy husband, I would rather just forget the whole thing.

Kz the barbarian

Bruce, as the kind friend he is, was gentle enough to point out how rude I am. At first I didn't want to acknowledge it, but he started to mention a lot of examples: I cut in front of old folks. I didn't greet people. When we got to his granny's house, I grabbed a fork without asking for it and made a mess without moving a muscle to clean up.

Am I a total savage? Perhaps.

Personally, I like to think that Bruce is just too judgemental.

At last!

When Daft Punk put out their 'Discovery' album, they hired Japanese animation artist Leiji Matsumoto to do the videos. In total, they did 14 videos which come together as a small mini-movie, called INTERSTELLA 5555: THE 5TORY OF THE 5ECRET 5TAR 5YSTEM

Even though it was released in 2003, only now was I able to watch it as a whole after piecing it together in YouTube. You can check it out here.

Bruce doesn't like my Friends

I've been friends with Bruce for over 25 years. We are very different, him and me. He was always athletically inclined, whereas I always looked forward to the relaxation of a good couch. He loves wrestling, and cars. I like computers and manga. Sometimes I wonder how we have been friends for so long.

Our latest point of conflict: Friends. He hates the show, whereas my sisters and I love it. Bruce says it's poorly written and badly acted. While I can't defend every single episode, I can tell you this: it's fun! I even have the theme song in my iTunes. I love the show so much that I plan to acquire, over time, the whole ten seasons on DVD.

Of course, Bruce would rather drive a hot iron into his eyeballs first.

Don't like it? There's the door

Turns out lonelygirl15 was fake after all. The writers behind her captivating story came out last week. And Jessica Rose, the actress portraying lonelygirl, appeared on Leno on the 14th. Some people were offended, feeling that they were duped. We were. But I don't care. LG15's story is quite interesting, and frankly, Jess looks really hot. So I'll keep tuning in, as lots of people have decided to.

So what's the deal with people still posting negative comments about her on YouTube?

Back when it wasn't clear if LG15 was fake or not, lots of self-appointed 'defenders of the truth' felt it necessary to warn us, poor boobs, about how obvious it was that LG15 wasn't real. 'She is a #$"& fake' they wrote, as if adding an expletive to their statement would cement it in truth. Come on. I am not a baby, and I think I have a fairly-sized IQ. So I don't need a nanny to tell me what I should and shouldn't be watching.

Back to the present. The morons insist on writing comments like 'I hate this crap', and 'It's so boring'... yet they keep coming back to LG15, never missing a single episode. It's a free world, guys. If you don't like something, you can go elsewhere. There's thousands of channels to choose from. No need to fill our air your with noxious gas, you brainless windbags.

Crux

I am starting to think about moving on. And for the first time since Ivy's gone, I've found somebody whom I might like, but most importantly, she's somebody who might like me back.

I'm afraid. It feels so good to fall back upon the twisted web of Love. But is it too soon? Should I wait till it's been a year? I'm a mess.

Bummer

Driving back home was a nightmare. The streets were crowded because tomorrow is Kzanderallia Day. People travel to the city to light torches with the 'Fire of Freedom' and they head back on foot to their respective towns to light their own respective Fires of Freedom. As a result, there's people with torches running around all over the place.

As I contemplated the runners from the safe confines of my vehicle, I could do nothing but yearn for a time when I believed in something with so much vigor. I can think of nothing that would make me run for miles carrying a torch. And yet these people do it, without minding the weather, the tiredness, the pain.

I want to believe in something too. I just can't think of anything right now.

'Just' a comment

I recently watched Radiohead's 'Just' video. Even though the damn thing was made back in 1995, it still creeps me out. A man lying on the street, for no apparent reason. He refuses to explain himself, and when he does, everyone around him immediately lays down on the street as well. What did the guy say? What could make people react that way? I shiver trying to come up with an answer. It's been 11 years and I still haven't found it.

Happy Kzanderallia Day!

Today's Kzanderallia Day. Hurray!

So far, so good

My mood is fine. I seem to be doing real well, no depressions, no issues. Cool sailing.
This should be a busy, busy weekend. I have to finish Phase One of my graduation project this very weekend. And Phase Two has to be done in a couple of weeks. I believe I can do this. But I do have to write down what I have to do, because I have a tendency to wander and so a list will help me. I can do this. I can do this. I just have to plan accordingly.

Hey, where's everybody???

It seems everybody chose this weekend to get out of the country.

My mom and my sister left for the US to go see my sister Luann for three weeks. During that time, they plan to go to Lourdes (France) and dip my lil' sister in the (reputedly) medicinal waters.

Ivy's parents, brother Hughes, sister Ally and another sister, Steph, will be going to Mexico for the weekend.

So what this means is that it'll be just me and my granma. Quality time, at last!

Xanadu Weekend

Rossenthal's a cool guy. He was going to Xanadu to see Donny. He knew I wanted to come as well, so he waited for me. This is specially generous since it's a four hour drive and the trip gets kinda dangerous at night. But Ross's a great driver, he knows the road and we got there safely.

I believe I've mentioned Donny before. He's a former Design classmate. He has his own design studio in Xanadu. I had several reasons to go see him. For instance, I hadn't seen him in nine months. The last time I saw him was when Id dropped him off at the airport when he took off for Europe with his girl. The other reason for going to see him was that I needed his help with with Phase One of my graduation project, which is a Flash portfolio. (I promise to share it once it's finished.)

Donny and I have a special kind of friendship. After college, we have remained close even though we only see each other a couple of times a year.

Donny and I worked on my project for hours. Then he asked me for help on a project of his, which we worked on for ten hours straight. We started working on it around 10 PM and finished around 8 AM next day. When we finished, I didn't want to see even a tiny speck of HTML again.

Even though it was a labor-intensive weekend, we still managed to have a great time. I totally love Donny's family. They're very loving, funny and relaxed. I hope to go see them again really soon.

My precocious cousin

Cousin Paul never ceases to amaze me. Gone is the image of the wholesome, well-behaved young man I once believed him to be.

He drinks. Heavily.
He smokes pot. Heavily, too.
He's been sexually active since he was 15.

This last bit of information just floored me when he shared it with me last night. Damn it, I was totally unprepared for the mental image of a teenage Paul porking his 14-year-old girlfriend.

Yikes.

What's the use?

What's the use of doing anything?

That's a question I've asked myself lately.

The answer, however shifts from time to time, and is a clear indicator of the mood I'm in.

A few days ago, the answer would've been: 'None'.

But right now, I can say that doing stuff is a personal choice to change the world you live in. By writing, walking, breathing, you can influence others. How you use that influence is completely up to you!

The unbearable pain that is not having money

Since I have a new car now, I have to sell the old one. I was thinking about using the money to fund me a trip, get a new digital camera, and pay off credit card debt. But my mother's meddling has made me realize that I can't afford a trip, or a camera. Heck, I can't afford going out anymore. It's like being broke without being actually broke.

So I should just save the money I have and sit on it till I die, apparently.

Sounds like a plan.

A reversal

My granny just came into my room to ask me to tie up her shoes. She can't bend too well anymore, and she needed some help.

So as I was fastening up her straps, I thought about how many times she must've had to help me tie up my sneakers when I was a little kid.

It felt awesome.

Motherly concerns

The other day, I was talking to my mom. She thinks I should save up some money, set up a retirement fund, etc. She is thinking about my future, but it feels like she is just trying to run my life.

I can't blame her for wanting me to succeed. After all, I'm her son, and (most) parents want their children to be happy. And what could be more joyous than financial security?

Of course, it's not difficult to envision ulterior motives to her actions. Think about it: if I'm broke, how will I ever take care of her when she's an old lady? And, if I am a broke loser, no woman will ever want to hook up with me. And if no woman hooks up with me, she'll never have any grandchildren. And she really, really wants some grandkids.

You better sit down for that last one, Mom... it seems it's gonna take a while.

You Tube

Ever since I stumbled upon YouTube a while back, I've been coming back ever since. They seem to have everything in there! If it moves, people upload it. I've been checking out a couple of videoblogs by girls: lonelygirl15 and LUCYinLA. They're both very entertaining. And they're both being accused of being totally fake.

Several of the internet's brightest minds have concluded that, some giant entertainment conglomerate is behind these vlogs and they're just some crafty way to sell us stuff. They back these allegations with some 'truths' they've come up with.

Bull! I mean, look at the source. Some anonymous internet user, who's probably a zit faced 15-year-old writing from his parents' basement? Please.

And anyway, what if they were made up? I mean, I don't care. They're really fun to watch!

I got a new car. Yey

The car was totally free. It was given to me as a gift.

Normally I would be excited about this sort of thing... but (and believe me, this is a major BUT)

IT'S IVY'S CAR.

Her parents couldn't bear the idea of selling it. They insisted on giving it to me. Believe it or not, I was against it for many reasons, the main one being that it was my late fiancee's car. But they were relentless. And so, here I am, with a brand new car. And it makes me so sad, you wouldn't believe.

It's like having Ivy here, in my driveway.

It's so horrible. Not the car (it's kinda nice, actually), but the load of emotional baggage it bears in tow.

I drove that auto several times. She didn't like to drive when we were together, so I had to take the wheel even when we took her car.

Oh... God... the memories... the pain... it's EVERYWHERE.

(sigh)

Afterthought

And just HOW am I supposed to have a social life now? Driving another girl in that car is gonna be awkward, to say the very least. I'm gonna be single forever.

I saw a girl today

I was at the local TGI Friday's, waiting for a few friends to show up, and then I noticed this beautiful girl sitting nearby. She looked oddly familiar. Had I seen her before? Only after a hours of wracking my brains did I realize why she was so eerily familiar.

She looked EXACTLY like Caitlin Wachs, from ABC's Commander in Chief.
I mean, they could've been twins.



I am in love.

Very disturbing dream

My sister in law, Ally had put on gold caps on a few teeth. I asked her about it, and her eyes got wet. She kept saying stuff like 'they like they like the dog better'. The funny thing is as she was saying that, she got inside some boxes and she did seem like a puppy in a pound. It was a very intimate moment, where she opened her heart to me. A moment like we would never live in real life, of course.

Weird nonetheless.

Fooling myself

Some folks were rattled by my very drastic resolve. It's understandable: not every day does a guy come out saying he's giving up on relationships and kids for good. Unless he's about to become a priest.

Well, you guys shouldn't have bothered. Why? Because I'm full of crap.

I DO want to have a woman in my life and have kids. I daydream about having a little Kz sitting in my lap, while a loving Mrs. Kzanderall and I exchange glances and air kisses before she continues reading her favorite book.

Then, why did I come up with such a statement? Well, the resolve was created in the midst of one of the darkest depressions I've experienced in recent history. My insecurity melded with angst and self loathing.

The truth is that I am scared crapless.

I am (almost) 30 years old. In my mind, I could very well be 50. Old maid. But wait: that's not all! I also happen to have a VERY lackluster physique. I still haven't gotten my college degree. I don't have a promising career, or a an outstanding income.

With such glorious attributes, I am afraid, REALLY afraid that no woman will ever want me and I will die all alone.

So that's where my resolve came in, to turn things around. Instead of women casting me aside, I was rejecting them. Instead of realizing my DNA is unwanted, it was me choosing not to grant others the opportunity to make babies with it.

Oh, well. Back to the real world.

Finding a crowd

Nowdays, most of my friends are either getting married, having kids or a combination of the two. Of course, I'm thoroughly glad for them, but what this means for me is that it's becoming harder and harder to find somebody to hang out with.

It's not as if I am running away from my married friends, but they have a way to make a single guy like me feel banal. While I talk about going to the movies, and hanging out, they are talking about house payments and child care.

I tried hanging out with younger folk, like my cousin Paul and my niece Lannie. At the beginning, I felt younger, revitalized. But in the end, the 10 year gap proved to be way too deep. I felt... ancient. At 30, I just lack that feeling of wonder and excitement you have when you are 20 and the world is just ripe with infinite possibilities. Life is just simpler when you are young. It's not that the world becomes more complex as you grow up. You realize it bit by bit.

Too young to hang out with folks my age, and too old to hang with younger people. What a dillemma, huh?

Luckily, I still know a few folks my age who are still single and willing to par-tay.
So I'm still OK.

At least until they get married too.

Thanks, guys

You know who you are.
Thank you for your support.

A resolve

I went to see Ivy today. As I was there, I started thinking, about life, about love. And then I realized that I need to stop thinking about getting a relationship again. In fact, I have vowed to stay single for the rest of my life.

I will never ask another woman to marry me. I don't deserve beautiful things like marriage. I don't have the qualities to be a good husband: I lack the inner strength, I lack the resolve, I don't have wisdom. I am nothing but a moronic, good-for-nothing jerk. And scum like me doesn't have the right to a wife.

No dating, either. From now on, I will only have friends. I will be nice, I will behave, and I will do whatever is in my power to help my fellow man. But I won't ever attempt to have any sort of relationship with a girl ever again.

And of course, no kids. Yesterday, I was at my friend Jujo's place the other day. I watched as tiny, precious human being got his diapers changed. Then I got to see him being fed. He was so delicate! They wanted me to hold him, but I totally refused. I'm too clumsy to ever hold a baby!!

But Jujo was a pro. He was a total dad: commited, helpful, caring.

That's when I realized I will never be a good dad. Such a responsibility! I mean, getting a baby is not like getting a dog, or like buying an iPod. It's a human being! It's not only about keeping him fed and happy. It's about putting some values into the kid, making him a good person, a solid citizen.

I can't do that. I don't have the patience. I am messy and disorganized. I can't be in charge of a baby! Plus, it's not as if I have some legacy to instill on a kid.

In short, I will not date, will not marry, and will not procreate.
I think the world should thank me.

Eight months

I still miss you, Ivy.

If you loathe KZ, raise your hand!

Many folks may not enjoy my company, but NOBODY can hate me more than I do. When I'm in such a state of mind, it's very hard for me to think up something positive to say about myself. I hate my tastes, my actions, the way I do things. I hate not being able to do so much... and what I CAN do, I despise.

Some poor folks have encountered me when I'm in this awful state. They've done their darnedest to get me to feel better about myself. But they just cannot. It's like being in a long dark tunnel. Only there's no light at either end. Eventually, I move out of it. Something happens that distracts me long enough to stop thinking about myself.

Right now, I'm waiting for such an event to happen.

You guessed it, I'm self-loathing right now.

What triggered it??

If I had to choose, I'd say it was seeing my cousin.

Paul has all the stuff I wish I did: good looks, self-confidence, lots of friends, money, youth. Next to him, I feel like a burned-out husk of a man.

I'm ten years older than he is. Am I in a better place than he is? No.
In several aspects, I'm way worse. Sure, sure... I've got experience. Supposedly. But do I really??

And as if all of that wasn't enough

I went out to the best part of town to do some errands. I deeply regret doing that. Every time I go there, I see nothing but young, wealthy people with incredible looks. And I feel even more inadecuate than I usually do.

In short...

These are some of the moments when life is really not worth living.

Cerati & me

At a later time, I will write about my infatuation with Gustavo Cerati's music. For now, this will be a placeholder.

Jujo is a dad

My friend Jujo and his wife Sandra became parents today.
The kid weighed 8.4 pounds.
Congrats!!

My sister got operated

My sister Abby ended her rounds of pre-op chemo and got operated. Hopefully, everything was removed at last and she will lead a normal life... after the final post-op chemo is over.

Guilty pleasures

I went to see Superman Returns today. And I am guilty as hell about it. Why? Because I was supposed to go see it with my sister Abby.

It's not as if I didn't try. We were supposed to go last weekend. Then Saturday. We ended up going today... but it was totally sold out.

So we didn't see it.

Later today, I found myself at the local mall... and I noticed that Superman Returns was about to start in two minutes!! I made some very cold calculations.

My sister's surgery is gonna happen this week. She is not likely to be able to go see Superman onscreen for a while. So it was either now or wait a month for her to heal.

The movie experience, therefore, was sprinkled with guilt.

I am fat

This will come as a surprise to very few: I'm overweight.

And dammit, I hate it.

My clothes don't fit, I have difficulty moving as I used to. And of course, there's the health and aesthetic issues.

Why am I fat? Cause I overeat.
Why do I overeat? That's more complex to explain. I would say that it's a mix of little self-control, lots of self-hatred, and a bit of angst.

Being fat would be no problem if I were taller, if I were loaded with cash or if I was a powerful or famous man. But no dice.

This will offend some people, but being fat is not a bonus.

I spend hours staring at my deformed body. I look at the bulge in my abdomen and realize that I am staring my destruction in the face. Being fat will kill me. Even if I manage to shed all the excess weight off, it's very likely that there's heavy damage to my digestive, nervous and circulatory systems. Still, I have to do it, even if only to fit into my old jeans again.

Denial is a horrible thing. I kept thinking that I could eat all I wanted for as long as I wanted and people wouldn't care how I look. But they do. Not only am I no longer pleasing to look at, but I am starting to repulse folks. That is not a good thing.

I wasn't all that skinny to begin with. But at least I wasn't as chubby as I am now. I haven't seen any cheekbones in years. They are covered in layers of fatty tissue, just like the rest of my body.

This must end. Now.

The road begins

The road to betterness begins now.
Exhausting as crap, lemme tell you.

Sad moments

The gloom returned with a vengeance. Let me count the ways...

Seven months

Every 29th of the month, Ivy's passing is pushed 30 days further into the past. In days like these, I really feel like talking about her, and be able to reminisce how she touched our souls with her love.

But who can I talk to?

Most of her family seems to be bent on trying to bury the pain by not mentioning her at all. I understand them, and I just don't feel like showing up at their doorstep ready to reopen the wound. The only one who is always willing to talk about Ivy is her mom. But today she was on her way to a party, and I didn't want to spoil her evening talking about her dead daughter.

So better luck next time.

Goodbye, Wario

I said goodbye to my friend Wario today. He's leaving for a six-month stay at the States with his mom. Then he wants to go to Europe for another three months. So he won't be coming back till March '07.

If he comes back.

You see, a while back Wario started to find Kzanderallian society archaic and restricting. His travels all over South America deepened that internal chasm even more. He longs for women who are more open-minded and modern. I'll be the first to admit that finding that kind of woman here is very rare.

Soon he'll be gone. I miss him already.

Buaahh!

While Wario and I had our last cup of coffee (ever?), we had a long conversation. He shared his uncertainty about the future. He worries that he sees nothing ahead. I told him about my daydream of staring into darkness.

Then, it happened.

Maybe it was everything. My sorrow for Ivy's absence. My sadness regarding the fact that a good friend was going away. Or maybe it was my gloomy assesment of my future. The thing is that tears started filling up my eyes. I clumsily looked for a napking to sop up my eyes, but the flow wasn't stopping.

Poor Wario wasn't expecting this. He knows I'm a sentimental dude who's prone to tearing up, but this caught him off guard. It must be so uncomfortable to sit at a table with a 29-year-old guy who talks to you while he's holding a napkin to his eyes in a vain effort to hide the fact that tears are all over the place.

Oh, the memories he'll take with him...

I'm okay now

Amazingly, I'm fine again. It seems that writing about this has helped me to calm down. And suddenly, I don't feel so crappy anymore. A bit sad, still. But the worst is definitely over. For now, at least.

Where do I see myself in five years?

I was reading an article in a magazine and this question came up. I asked it to myself, and at first, I came up totally blank. No clue. But then, a few notions started creeping in. I'd like to be married, have kids.

At this point, however, reality sweeped in and took everything away with just one blow: and just HOW am I going to be able to afford marriage and kids? With my puny, dead-end jobs? No way.

The way I see it, I have to start earning 50% extra a month, soon. But just how the heck am I going to do that?

Cousin envy

It's official. I envy the guy.
I can't help it.

But really: how can I not?

Paul's an only child. And my uncle's hard work has made them pretty wealthy. So he's had everything he ever wanted all his life. Cool car, cool clothes. Travel. You'd think that kind of thing would've made him a jerk, but no. He's a nice and cool guy too!! And he has tons of friends!! He is also a drummer in his own band. He just started his own advertising production company. And he's not even 21.

Plus, he's handsome. (I mean, a guy can tell. We just don't like to admit it.) Not gorgeously handsome, but very nice-looking.

The ladies? They flock to him.

Geez, if I was a woman and he wasn't my cousin, I'd be all over him too.

The darkness cometh

I have had this daydream for some time.

There was a seaside resort when I was a kid, called Leekin's. It had suites that faced the ocean. Around 8 PM, you could go out on the balcony and everything outside would be pitch black. So black indeed, that you couldn't see the ocean, just hear the waves crashing down below. Cold seabreeze would blow against your face, making you feel like you were about to be taken away by the omnipotent obscurity ahead.

In my daydream, I'm back at that balcony. I am leaning upon the railing. I gaze at the darkness in front of me. I know there's something in front of me, something huge, but I can't see it at all.

Just like it did when I was a kid, the experience is both frightening and exciting at the very same time.

My future is just as dark, powerful and mysterious. Where will it take me? I have no idea. All I know is that it's out there, and it's coming for me, whether I'm ready or not.

Busy day

What a day. I'll try to break it down in a way that it is narrated in a way that doesn't lose any zest.

My granny's bday, redux

Today was my granny's birthday party. It was a cozy affair, only seven people at my mom's. We had some very tasty sandwiches. I contributed with some party decorations: a handmade banner, and some colorful balloons. Looked very darn nice if I say so myself.

Just like any other Saturday

I once again attended my cousin's band weekend concert. It's becoming kinda boring. Same songs over and over, at ear-splitting decibels. I am striving to continue, 'cause I'm the only family member that regularly attends his gigs. And being a musician is pretty rough. I feel support is badly needed, so I'm just doing my part.

While in the midst of being totally deafened...

I got a call from Joey. He was returning one of my calls. He agreed to meet me at the bar where my cuz plays. We went nearby to down a few beers and talk a bit.

We had one of those really long talks that enrichen a person's life. We talked about my loss, and how I'm handling it. I put a lot of effort not to victimize myself, and tried to maintain a positive spin on the whole deal. Talking about my deceased girlfriend can be really depressing. But not today. I would even go as far as to say that it was also very liberating. I was able to look at my life and realize that I can go on. I have to.

Gentlemen, hide your girlfriends!

I got together with a few friends to watch one of the World Cup matches at a bar. We sat near one of the big-screen TV's they've got, we downed a few brewskies (beers) and had a good time. But then, my friend Fonz showed up with his girlfriend Jaq in tow. Whoa. The girl is a stunner: Blonde, great figure, very attractive. And she's very nice, to boot.

There was a moment when Fonz was talking to a friend of his and so Jaq and I started chatting amongst ourselves. She's a lawyer, and we ended up talking about conflict mediation, which she is very passionate about. Then started tapping me in the arm as she was talking.

I wasn't the only one to notice this. The Fonz did too. He came over and embraced Jaq, positioning himself between her and me. After a few minutes, he casually took her away from me to the other side of the table.

On the ride home, I kept thinking about those very events and concluded that Fonz had viewed me as a threat to his relationship and decided to take immediate action.

Honestly, I was totally flattered.

The good buzz lives on

Can you believe it? No traces of depression so far!! Of course I've gotten sad and stuff, but it's a temporary thing, lasting mere minutes each time. I keep looking at the lighter side of things.

Happy Fathers Day!

For everyone who is a father or has had a father.

CONGRATS!!

Paul, you never seem to amaze me

Well, it's the weekend again, and so Paul called a few friends for drinks at his place. It was kinda fun: met new people, drank a little, fell backwards from my chair... good times.

But then, I saw Sully -Rod's girlfriend- talking about Jenny again. They seem very interested in 'liberating' her from her evil boyfriend. And they want Paul to be her knight in shining armor, riding in to the rescue.

I am still unsure about that, and I still have to tell him what I think about the whole deal.

The bombshell

Listening to my cousin talking about getting another piercing was kinda surreal, but that was NOTHING compared to when he took me aside and told me he's doing MJ. For those totally detached from drug culture: he's doing weed. Lots of it. He even invited me to smoke some grass with some friends of his. I don't think I'll be joining him, thank you.

Now here's the thing: should I tell his folks? Talk about oblivious: my uncle doesn't even know my cousin smokes tobacco. His mom does, but doesn't say anything about it. But I don't think either of them is aware of his drug use.

If I tell, my cuz will never trust me again. But if my aunt and/or uncle catch him and realize I knew about it and hadn't told them , They won't trust me anymore, either.

Bummer, man.

I should clear somethin' up

I recently said that I wanted to scream, shout but I just didn't have the energy. It worried some folks, and I feel I should explain. As so many things on my blog, it was written hastily.

Although I am aware that such severe tiredness is a symptom of deep depression, the explanation is way more mundane. What I meant to say was this: recently my mom has asked me to help her out with a few errands. Being my mom's helper on top of working two jobs was can be really, really exhausting. So, sometimes when I get home and I get mad at stuff, I find myself so damn tired that instead of throwing a fit, I rather just go to bed. Sorry for the misunderstandings.

Unexpected development

I was reading the online version of the newspaper Ivy's brother writes for, and noticed a very rude comment left by some guy who was saying that Hughes should keep all of his personal stuff out of the newspaper. The funny thing? Even though I was mad at Hughes, I jumped to his defense.

Personally, I see nothing wrong with a columnist dedicating a column to saying farewell to a dear friend. After all, it's his column, and he can do whatever he pleases with it. And nobody can say otherwise. Here's an example of democracy and free will: if you don't like how a guy writes, just don't read him.

I am surprised how I was able to put aside my ill will towards Hughes long enough to defend his actions. I dunno where such clarity of mind came from. What I do know is this: after five long years, the guy feels like family. And nobody messes with my family.

Jennifer update!

As you may recall, I met a girl named Jennifer last weekend. She was very nice and I really liked her. Well, that turned out to be a bust for me. But not for my cousin Paul, 'cause she was totally into him.

However, when he called her, her boyfriend took the mobile from her hands and answered it himself! Paul was aware that Jennifer had a boyfriend, but didn't expect the guy to be this possesive. My cuz played it cool, but now he's really filled with reasonable doubt.

Supposedly, Jennifer was fed up with her current boyfriend and that's why her cousin wanted her to meet Paul. But now it seems that Jennifer is measuring Paul as a worthy replacement before actually dumping the previous guy. Now that doesn't seem very nice to me. What this means is that when Jennifer gets fed up with Paul, she'll have another guy already lined up when he dumps him.

Neither Paul or me are puritanic angels, but I do find her... too pragmatic for my taste, you know?

In short,
RUN, PAUL! RUN AWAY LIKE THE WIND!

Bipolarity and you

It would seem that everything points to me having a bipolar disorder. After long, endless days of pain and suffering, I woke up today feeling just right. More than just right. I was almost bursting with joy. I was so happy all day, it was almost scary. Jumping all over the place, talking fast and excitedly... I was like a madman.

And the best thing about being a maniac is that NOTHING can get you down. When you're depressive, even the most miniscule detail can crush your soul and make you sink even deeper in the depths of sadness. But when you are on the upside, your car could get stolen and you'd go 'Aw, shucks. Well, at least I still got my health!'

I caught myself making plans to learn Portuguese, German and French. And I want to travel a lot while I still can. Can this be the same guy who was a bottomless pit of gloom just a few days ago?

Kinda very, VERY pissed

I read something today that made me mad.

You see, Hughes -Ivy's brother- is a college professor. He is also a newspaper columnist. He usually writes about Economics in Kzanderallia. I must admit, the guy is very clever and he writes really good. He can make something as complex as economics into something an ordinary ignoramus as me can actually understand.

Well, on his latest column, he didn't write about his usual topic, but instead chose to dedicate his whole column to talk about the death of one of his students. He expressed the shock and pain such news inflicted on him and those who knew the dead guy.

That's all fine and good. But you know what? When Ivy died, he didn't even write a sentence about her.

Each of us handles pain our own way, sure. And he is entitled to write about whatever he pleases. But it seems unfair! She wasn't just anybody! She was his SISTER. And even though she got pages and pages of obituaries, it's not the same as a few loving words from her big brother. And she got none.

It makes me so angry. It also makes me sad. But, as so many things in life, I can't do a thing about it but vent here. So I have.

Pumping on your stereo

This video was made by the British band Supergrass waaaaay back in 1999. Directed by Hammer & Tongs, and with a little magic courtesy of Henson's Creature Shop.

This is a really old video, yet I had never seen it, until today. Can you believe it?
God bless YouTube.

The power of the mind

I have to really focus mentally. I you say stuff to yourself over and over, it ends up becoming 'true'. It may be a total fallacy, but you manage to believe it like if it was carved in stone.

It's called 'programming'. More on this later.

The battle is over!

Many, many months ago, a few of us kids at Worth got together and decided to strip. No, you sicko, we didn't take off items of clothing, we made comic strips daily.

It was called The Battle of the Strippers, and it was a really fun idea. It was a hoot to read each new posting by the strippers, starting with the thead title, which was always wacky.

Groggie even generously collected all the comics in one place for easy reading. Check it out!

Unfortunately, people started quitting soon enough. A certain lameass dropped the very next day!

In the end, just two were left: Meowza and DeadElvis.

Finally, today Meowza threw in the towel, and DE became the winner.

Now each of us has to draw a strip prasing DE on his win. I'll make mine during the weekend. In the meantme, I set up a placeholder. I promise you, it will be totally cool.

Congrats, DE!

Aftermath

Goodbye, Critters! Goodbye, Meow Meow! Goodbye, Accountant! Goodbye, the rest!
I shall miss you all!

On tonight's episode...

Man, haven't you got the feeling that life sometimes resembles a teen drama?
Mine does.

Last night, I decided to go out and see my cousin Paul's band, DeZirkhus. They're not really big right now, 'cause -family love aside- they suck. The bass player (Rod) and the drummer (my cuz) are kind of decent, but the singer/lead guitar (Punch) doesn't have such a good voice, and he keeps forgetting his lines. Oh, and the venue is no bigger than your average walk-in closet.

It was a pretty slow night until the bass player's girlfriend showed up with her cousin on tow. Man, that's when things got really cool. She was really cute, funny... I was totally attracted right away. She lit up what seemed to be just another night of ear-blasting music. Well, maybe the night would've been really interesting anyway cause a few minutes later a drunk woman started to do a dance that would put a Vegas stripper to shame.

Back to the girl. Her name was Jenny, and she was utterly extroverted, but not in an annoying kind of way. I was delightfully surprised how easy it was to talk to her. We talked about her plans to go to take a year off school to go to Paris to learn French, about the fact that my dad owned a piece of land near the place where she lives. At this point I was already aware that 1) she had a boyfriend and 2) that she was really into my cousin. But I just didn't care.

When the guys decided to take off and head to Rod's place to have some drinks at about 1:30 AM, I went along only 'cause Jenny was gonna be there. The same was true when they switched to a parking lot near Paul's house at about 2:44 AM.

When the night finally ended, at about 3:45 AM, my thoughts were on Jenny. If only she didn't have a boyfriend, if only she didn't have a thing for my cousin, and if only she wasn't ten years my junior... who knows?

Afterthought

A 29-year-old man going after 19-year-olds? I totally feel like a dirty old man. And yet, it feels so right...

About the Kzandertars

As some already know, I've been doing portraits (also known as 'Kzandertars') of Worth1000 members. Now this is has brought up some misunderstandings, which I feel I should address right now.

1. I am still doing Kzandertars. I just don't have time to do them every day. But I try to do at least five new ones every weekend.

2. Numbers mean nothing. Just because some Worthians were drawn first doesn't mean they are closer to my heart than the ones that were done later on. It's totally random. I love all Worthians alike. Yes, even you.

3. Peeps need to chill. Whining about not being drawn already is really uncool. And that really makes me want to not draw you. Not kidding.

4. I pretty much said everything I had to say in the three items before, but I felt like making another item, just because.

Thank you for your attention.

Bruce

Have I told you about Bruce? He's my oldest and wackiest friend. He and I have been together for the last 25 years. Sometimes we've been really close, and sometimes we haven't. We've had a lot of crazy adventures together. Recently I we got together to talk after almost six months of not seeing each other. He told me about the really silly adventures he's had lately.

One classic Bruce story: he got drunk, got into a fight, got all his clothes torn, went into a disco (ripped clothes, bloody face and all) managed to hook up some girl and made out with her all night.

Another little anecdote: He and a few friends got really drunk (alcohol is a constant in all of Bruce's tales). Next thing they knew, they were in a car with four very friendly girls (whom they didn't know) who were hanging out the sunroof and shrieking like mad women.

Sadly, it seems that Bruce is paying the price of such hard partying. He had kidney failure, and now he has to stay off liquor for at least six months. I mean, he can't even have a Coke.

Despite the ghastly aftermath, seeing him has prompted me to realize that my life has gotten really stale. I mean, all my other, more sensible friends are leading really stiff lives. They're married, they have to. Even though I was ready to do the same, now that Fate has spun my life around, I think I'll go out and have some fun while I can.

So tired

I wanna scream, cry, shout... but I find myself so tired lately, I just wanna go to bed.

When it rains, it pours

Ally, Ivy's sister, is in trouble. Her ex-boyfriend is turning really wacko. I mean, full-grade stalker and stuff. Everybody is really scared. He could be capable of anything. He's been quoted as saying, 'If she isn't mine, she'll be no one else's!' I fear the worst.

Can you believe it? I'm a juror!!

Those crazy guys over at Worth1000.com saw it fit to make me a juror. Geez, it's so sad when quality control hits rock bottom.

(Thanks guys!! I really love you all!!! And that is no joke.)

The outcast

Lately it seems as if I have to find a group to hang out with.

My old friends are all getting married and having kids. I am not about to do any of those things in the near future, so I find myself living in a totally different world from them. They spend all their time talking about finding a house, buying baby crap, paying mortages... whist I'm talking about bars and going out and having a good time.

Diferent worlds.

But then, when I try to go out with younger folk, I find myself unable to fit in as well. I tried to hang out with some of my cousin Paul's friends. Man, they talk about chicks and cutting class and stuff I did about ten years ago. They seem so full of energy, with all of their lives ahead of them, their future ripe with potential. Plus, all they wanna do is get drunk and party. Which they do as often as possible.

Talk about opposites, right? One group is totally banal and carefree. The other is firmly grounded and serious.

And I fit in neither.

Friday Night Fever

Last night, I did something I hadn't done for a while. I went out for drinks. By myself. Kind of. Lannie, Ivy's 20-year-old niece, mentioned that she was gonna go bar-hopping with her boyfriend and some and some of her girlfriends. She also said that I was welcome to join. I didn't say anything at the time.

I was totally unsure about going. I couldn't really picture myself hanging around with peeps 10 years younger than me. It seemd kinda awkward. In the end, I said 'screw it' and decided to go.

The night was so complex, that it deserves three Acts. Here we go:

ACT ONE:

I arrived at the bar, which was totally packed. I started looking for Lannie and found Valy instead. I think I've mentioned Valy before, but I allow me a moment to tell you a little more about me and her.

I've known Valy for a few years now. My sister mentioned she had some sort of crush on me at the beginning -and she is quite the cutie- but two things prevented anthing from happening. First of all, I was in a relationship. On top of that, she was my sister Abby 's friend, and my sister is famous for disliking any advances made toward her friends. So nothing happened. All we had was a bit of flirting from time to time.

Finding myself in the singles' scene once more, I felt it was time to see if anything could happen between Valy and me. However, it started to feel like all she did was toy with me. So much so that I decided to cut her off from my life completely. I erased her phone number and email from my address book, and deleted her from my IM client.

So, I hadn't spoken to Valy for about a month until I ran into her at the bar. She seemed totally excited to see me, and even left her friends to come over to talk to me. I kid you not, we were standing about six inches from each other. I felt some really cool vibes going on. There was playful punching and stuff. She kept insisting we should have lunch together next week. But just when I was totally sure I was getting somewhere, she said, 'I've just started going out with somebody. I'm so happy!!'

Well that felt like a bucket of chilly water had been dumped on my head. I tried somewhat unsuccesfully to conceal my embarrasment. She still mentioned something about me being invited to join her and her friends at their table. I thanked her and exited the bar as soon as she was out of sight.

I remember thinking how my night had been ruined in less than five minutes.

ACT TWO:

After walking a good while, I finally found Lannie and her friends at another bar. Apparently they had decided to switch venues after the first one was totally packed. They asked me to join them at their table. And then, something funny happened. She introduced me as... her uncle.

I must explain something here. Although a few times I've referred to Lannie as 'my niece', I must admit to some sort of incestuous feelings towards her. Yeah, the most moronic, retarded side of me kept hoping that she and I could eventually become an item. After all, she is one of the hottest, cutest and nicest girls I know. Of course, this was totally unthinkable back when Ivy was around, but now it seemed as something that could in fact happen someday. Of course, she'd have to forget that I was about to become her uncle, she'd have to not mind the fact that I'm 10 years older than her, and she'd have to settle for a lot less than her usual pick of boyfriends: rich and handsome.

Absurd as it was, that fantasy was very dear to me. It made me believe that somebody as gorgeous and nice as her could even consider me as a suitable mate.

But all that went out the window when she introduced me as HER UNCLE. A relative. And you don't go out with relatives. They just don't exist. They might as well be gay.
Crap.

ACT THREE:

As I was sitting amongst a table full of youngsters, I managed to catch a glimpse of a girl sitting on the restaurant across the street. It was Olly. I decided to go say hi. But then, as I was approaching her, I noticed she wasn't alone. A really huge and well dressed man had taken the empty chair at the table. Boy, that was awkward.

EPILOGUE:

I think I'll have to wait till my ego grows back before attempting to go out again.
It could be a while.

Everybody needs one

I have a few special friends. When I say 'special', I mean to say that they're like no other people I know. Really.

Take Louie, for instance. He has the mind of a child. Think Forrest Gump. He is a 30 year old man with the mind of a 14 year old. While most men are accused of being exactly like that, Louie REALLY IS that way. He is truly fascinated by decals, buttons and all sorts of toys. He loves cartoons and trucks. He is totally impulsive and wild, always full of energy and joy.

He is not wise, nor vane. He doesn't know what double entendres are. But that guy loves people fully. He is so quirky, he always cheers me up even when I'm totally down. He lights up my darkest days.

I love that wacky guy. I dunno what I'd do without him.

Could I get a hug?

Have I told you about this?

I've been reduced to ask people to hug me and hold me for a few minutes.
I feel so, so pathetic.

Six months

It's been six months since Ivy went away.
I still haven't forgotten you, my sweet.

Don't do it

Have you ever sneezed into a fan?
Bad idea. Unless you love your face covered in a yucky mist.

Could I possibly had gotten it wrong?

I kissed a girl for the first time at 23. I didn't have my first girlfriend till I was 24.

Talk about lame, right? I can trace it all back when my friends starting going out with chicks at 14. We started going out to parties. But while everybody managed to get women to dance with them, and managed to get phone numbers galore, I always came up with zilch.

It feels as if I went to the same party over and over.

When I arrived, I'd ask a few girls if they wanted to dance. Some actually did. But then, I wouldn't know what to say to them. When I did manage to muster up the courage to say something, the music would drown it out. So it was just me and her, standing in the dance floor, dancing and not talking. So awkward. Then the song would end and each would go our own separate ways.

But as boring and frustrating as that was, it was less pathetic and soul-deadening than just sitting at a table all by myself, staring at a glass of Coke and pretending not to be the most miserable guy there. It was just so depressing. I would sit there and supposedly scan the dancefloor for girls to dance with. Actually I was looking for girls who wouldn't turn me down so harshly. Because they did. Hundreds of times.

I guess that's when my self-confidence got crushed to a pulp. Oh, and the self-loathing? It began about there too.

Looking back, it doesn't make sense. If I was so miserable, why didn't I just stop going to parties? Maybe 'cause I sensed that staying at home all the time was gonna be even worse.

My friends look back fondly on those times. But to me, it was akin to having my skin pulled from my body with tweezers.

Say it with music

Isn't it funny how you sometimes stumble upon a song that says EXACTLY how you feel?
And it usually is the song you least expect. Like some 80's power ballad:

-------------
I gotta take a little time
A little time to think things over
I better read between the lines
In case I need it when Im older

Now this mountain I must climb
Feels like a world upon my shoulders
I through the clouds I see love shine
It keeps me warm as life grows colder

In my life theres been heartache and pain
I dont know if I can face it again
Cant stop now, Ive traveled so far
To change this lonely life

I wanna know what love is
I want you to show me
I wanna feel what love is
I know you can show me

(I Want To Know What Love Is, Foreigner)
------------

It's like they're talking about me! Only they're not. But it feels as if they were.

I wonder, I wonder...

I wonder, I wonder... was Ivy the only girl for me? Or is there somebody else out there? If so, where is she right now? Do I know her already? Do I still have to meet her? What does she look like? How old is she? Will she meet my silly profile? Or will she be totally opposite? How long will I have to wait till we become an item? Will it be a whirlwind romance? Will it be step-by-step?

I wonder, I wonder... will I ever get married? Will I ever manage to convince another woman that I'm right for her? That joining her life with mine will be for the best?

I wonder, I wonder... will I ever be a dad? If so, how long till I hold my first newborn in my arms? Will I be a good dad?

So many questions... nothing to do but wait for the answers to come on their own.

Up against the clock

I remember when Ivy would say that she was an old woman... at 26. I used to laugh out loud. I told her that as long as she got married before she was 29, everything would be OK.

Now I'm about to turn 30 and I suddenly feel... anxious. I feel old. I feel that my life is almost over, and that I have wasted it fully. It feels like it's too late to do anything. Too late to graduate, to late to get a good job, too late to learn German, to start snowboarding, etc.

But the thing is, whenever I tell people how I feel, they come back with something like 'you got your whole life ahead of you', and 'you're still young'. Maybe I asking my 83-year-old granny is not a good idea.

I just thought of this

My dad died at 65. I am almost 30 now. If I can expect to have about the same lifespan, that means I have reached the middle of my life! So then this is nothing more than a mid-life crisis!! Aw, that makes so much sense. I feel a lot better now.

Got the blues

I am at a point where nothing feels right. I am in the most ego-centric state ever. Right now, all I can see is a wall in front of me. Ok, that's a bad metaphor, since I DO have a wall in front of me as I type this. But you get my drift.

I know I should move forward. I know it. But still...

Take my birthday, for instance. In November, I'm turning 30. The big 3-0. That's a big deal, right??

I used to get excited about it. Nowdays it's just depressing.

See, I am reaching an age where most people have a degree, a wife, and a big-ass job with a promising future.

What do I have? None of the above.

You know my girl troubles. We can skip that for now.

I am STILL striving to get my degree. Sometimes I wonder if it's even worth it to dump so much time and money into it. I guess I only do it because it would be foolish to drop it when I'm so freaking close. Plus, it would make my family really happy if I had a diploma. But this whole thing is making me feel really down. You see, even if I graduated RIGHT NOW, this very instant, I am SIX years overdue. Every single one of my peers has graduated.

Now you can say that it doesn't matter, that it isn't a horserace. But let's be honest. Which one would you hire: a designer who finished his career in 5 years, or one who finished his in 11??

Let's forget about that for a minute. Let's see where I am right now. I hold two jobs, none of which pay enough, and none of them are really stimulating . At least I'm working as a designer. But where is that taking me? None of my jobs has any chance for improvement. No raises, nothing. As long as I'm working there, I will remain earning and doing the same. Some call that stability and security. I call that utter boredom and creative death.