Two Schools of Thought

I had intended to write about my weekend, which was, in comparison to most, tame. I traveled to Toronto on Friday evening and was put to bed by my Bestie, at 11:30 pm. "I haven't gone to be this early since I was ten," I told her. We were up at 5:30 am to oversee a corporate BBQ. It rained. I ran the children's activity. I ended up getting pummeled with water ballons. Water ballons I spent hours filling up. But I digress. I am going to muse on something that I have mused on before I'm sure, but need to again to see if I have any intention of changing my ways.

I was inspired to deal with this issue again because of something I read last week. Graham Hill is an amature bodybuilder base in Lisle, Illinois.

I had seen his picture a few times on the internet years and years ago and his image has been burned into my brain ever since. I'm not exactly sure how I came to know him outside of his beefcake work, but I started following him on Bodybuilding.com and Facebook. Anyway, last week he wrote a blog posting about dieting that contained the lines:

"Learn to love dieting. There is a feeling that is way more satisfying and long term than feeding unhealthy desires, and that seeing results in your physique and being confident knowing your healthy and look good." [Source]

I do not agree with that statement, not even a little bit. First, there is no better feeling than that first bite of pizza, the point, thin carb base, sweet tomato sauce, the fatty cheese, the salty, cured
meat. Sure our culture shames gastro-indulgence - especially if you feign to be "healthy" - and the guilt and disillusionment from a dietary slip can be soul crushing. This does not take away from the fact that during act, you are in a state of total bliss. A wave of euphoria rushes over one's body and suddenly all thoughts and anxieties are quieted even if only for a few moments. That is satisfaction.

You know whats not satisfaction? Dieting! Its the opposite of satisfaction! I remember whenever I (briefly, but earnestly) took on a diet, I begrudged every single thing about it. The hunger, the irritability due to the hunger, the lack of flavour, the lack of satisfaction.

Now, it must be said that I have never had the opportunity to experience the other half of what Graham talks about - "seeing results in your physique." Since my first big weight loss in 2004, I really haven't had much change in my body other than a slight gain.

But there is a more fundamental reason that I do not prescribe Graham's notion of satisfaction through deprivation:
I have, for some time now, been aware of my mortality. I base a lot of my daily life choices on the above phrase because the length of our lives is something that we truly have no control over. I also live by the idea of having no regrets. I feel if I were to die tomorrow #knockonwood, I wouldn't say, "Damn, I really should have saved myself the calories and not have those cocktails before going to see Bad Teacher."

I am quite comfortable with this philosophy, which is why it has been so enduring in my life. But my obsession (word choice?) with TRYING to get a better body is also enduring. Am I comfortable with the way I look? Absolutely*. An (*)?! Whatever could that mean? Well, I am comfortable when its me and a mirror? Yes. Am I comfortable enough to take off my shirt? Most places. Where, you ask, where do you not feel comfortable?

The answer: Around gays. Yes, I will display my rolls with pride in front of my straight friends, but gays are shallow, vicious creatures who have no time for people whose torsos go like this : (_), rather than like this: )_(.

My issue with shallow gays (of which I am one - RA-LAX) will have to wait for another time.

This what 6 months looks like

Well its time for another reboot of this blog o' mine. Chances we'll see another post this month? Who knows?! But I'll tell you what, if spent half the amount of time I spend jerking off, on this little project who knows what level of internet infamy I could reach!

I am currently sitting my temporary office, waiting for my #1 Gurl to finish up her shift. The plan of course, as it always is, is to get fuct up. You see tonight, I am going to see a production Rocky Horror, a scaled down, for stage version of the cult film of a very similar name, The Rocky Horror Picture Show.

Of course I won't get fucked up really. Its a Wednesday first off, which when I was in my undergrad,( and even after when I was still a part-timer) was a GREAT night for boozing, but now that I have begun the migration into adulthood, is against better judgment, to say the least. Couple that with the fact that the show is at a bar, which means I'll have to stand, and that I'm broke, and "fucked up" becomes a more reasonable "sufficiently drunk".

All of this however is rouse, to con myself into believing I have a good reason for not going to the gym. You'll like this one: I stopped going to the gym regularly on June 1st. I got my wisdom teeth out the next day and needed time to rest. The next week I believer I made an effort to work out twice. Last week was the same story. This week, I haven't succeeded - as yet. I had a staff BBQ on Monday, which with the two free drinks I was alotted, and the fact the my #1 Gurl was running the bar, turned into 4 free drinks, and ruled the gym out due to safety concerns (Yeah right, as if I'd waste a free buzz - or buzz for that matter).

This was all planned mind you. After #1 Gurl was off, we went to the LCBO, got some booze and proceeded to treat the evening like a Friday. We ended up at the bar with some friends of mine from Tap Hau5. One of them ended up getting kicked out of the bar. I walked with him to his house, and stopped in for a drink. All of a sudden it was 3:30 am and I crashed there. My 6:30 am alarm didn't wake me up, but the morning sun brought the room temperature to well over 80 and woke me up with exactly 30 to get to work. I was only 15 minutes late, and I got a shower in. Thanks go out to Terry for the bus fare I stole.

So Sufficiently Drunk will have to do for tonight. My Migration into Adulthood is very slow, and I'll go ahead and say steady *knockonwood*. I still live with students, which I love 75% of the time. I still party more days of the week than I don't (Fri/Sat/TapTues/+Bonus Night). But I have a nine to five. I have pension. I almost paid taxes this year. What more could I really ask for?

Update!

What up December ~ Looking good. I am yet again having one of those page turning months. My job is secure for now. I just moved. Now is the time to try and get a handle on things. Went to the gym for the first time in ooooh lets say - 4 months...? I feel like it could very well be much longer than that, but I digress. I had a really good workout - totally overdid it, but whatever, that's what I'm going for this time around.

My Diet starts today. I've been prepping myself for it. I now have a liquid breakfast. It this meal replacement you mix with milk, sort of like chocolate milk. That compared to the eat whatever you see attitude I've been going for the past little while. I'm going to try and watch my carbs at lunch. And then small dinner. But as long as I can keep up with the gym, the diet isn't so important to me.

Watched the Victoria Secret Fashion Show last night. Not by choice. Yet another reason the boy has to go. I thought that I watched some pretty mindless shit, but oh my god, just - nothing - there. I did sort of enjoy Katy Parry, but she as super auto-tuned. Totally turned me off seeing her live.

Oh also started a new blog. Not totally ready to reveal it to the world, but very close. gonna try and a get a few more posts up and play with the layout a bit. Hit the Link. Anyways I think that's it for now.

Back at IT

Well, well, its appears as though as much as I would like to pretend I'm over blogging, I'm not. At least not right at this moment.

Currently watching the Simpson's. In my empty living room, waiting to go meet potential new roommates. I realized today that I need to get on top of this whole living situation before I really and truly find myself homeless. I was on Kijiji today and found a couple of ads looking for roommates. Gay Roommates. I was a little hesitant at first, but figured that I have the option of living with straight guys, and they're pigs. I love them, but pigs all the same. So why not. I hope I make a good impression, because I'm really not up for the whole searching thing.

Simpson's update: Bart lost the Isototes Pennant. And Homer is a Mattress Salesman.

I'm about 20 minutes away from joining the Blackberry World. I'm scared. No Scured. Yes, scured. Its going to cost me $50 a month. Barf. I've been surviving on my Telus Pay As You Go for like $20 a month. Fuck whatever, who knows maybe I'll like it...*eyeroll*

Ok going to call Rogers, go meet these queers and then post pictures of my Movember mustache.

blah

I went out last night with my roommate, his friends, and a friend from work. We had a "great" time. I work this morning and I feel completely deflated and melancholy.

This is why I don't blog anymore.

Not exactly sure

So, where do begin. The last time I was on here I cancelled my birthday because of work. Well that went swimmingly. Really it did. I tended bar Friday night and make the most in tips ($200). I left with $110, but so it goes. I also got hit on by a girl. Not really my scene but it was nice to have some attention. Reminds me that I'm not a total gorgoeil (sp?... going to check... I think it has a y in it...) gargoyle. It was sort of an awkward experience. She was all over my jock. And I just kept smiling and taking her money. I was actually trying to make her so super drunk she'd have to just leave, but she powered through and was there till last call. I hope she got home alright.

However things got bad on Sunday. Not bad thats an exaggeration. Sad... I had been texting Al (my ex-old man friend) for a little while since new years, trying to get his attention more than anything. I was put off by the fact that he was cutting me off, as bloody if. then I remembered I left my 2008 tax return at his apartment and was getting anxious to get it back. I fucking hate tax season by the way. Anyways, we made plans to get thogether Sunday. There were no expilict plans of sex, but considering I haven't had any since January, I had explicit plans to have sex.

To make a long story short, he finished I didn't. Had to one out in the shower thinking about Terry (yeah). The night wasn't a total loss though. In our old tradition we get right high and drunk. Was a good base for Family dinner at Tap. Rolled over there and had a streak and a glass or red wine. Then on my way home stopped and grabbed a pizza. Went home and ate it and got more stoned with my roommate. Went to bed feeling like bloated discombobulated dog.

I suppose there is an accurate response to the goings on or my uneventful birthday weekend, but I'm not exactly sure what is it. I'm tired of feeling sorry for myself. Truly there is no possible way for me to feel accomplished right? I'm not angry or mad. It came and went just like any other weekend, only that is maked a milestone that I'm really not keen on observing myself. The only thing I wish is that my chapped lips would heal.

Short notes:
Working in the office this week and its DEAD. Or at least it was dead today probably spent an hour working. The rest of it was spent dicking around, i.e. writing this blog, texting, shitting.

Going to see Alice in Wonderland tonight with my roommate. She's a doll. My roommate, not Alice. She might be, we'll see.

Really, really need a vacation. Want to go to Quebec City for Red Bull Crushed Ice. Totally unlikely, but a boy can dream oui, non?

I think thats it...

Like a small child

So it's Tuesday afternoon. And I'm just about to smoke a bowl. I spent the entire day yesterday on the couch with my roommate. Its sort of like a tradition. We call it "roomie day". We start with breakfeast and watch terrible day time television. I made soup for the first time. Carrot and sweet potato. The day is capped off with 24. Jack Bower is the man.

I was "creeping" facebook this morning and saw my friends talking about going to the "Monday/Funday." No one called me.

Now, I just posted about how I drink too much. And I stayed out on Sunday night until like 4. "Crazy drugs" may or may not have been involved.

But really? No one called me?
Say word to your mother.

And the worst part is I can absolutely see how absurd it is to feel slighted by my "friends". But it does kind of sting.

Which is why I cancelled my birthday. It's Friday, which is the day I bartend so I wasn't giving that up. And I am working everyday day this week and next week, so I can't really do any week day drinking. And its this other kid from that bar's birthday on Wednesday.

So yeah. Just like a small child. Whatever.