Depression is a strange beast. It can come around at any time and stay for however long it chooses. There are certain things one can do to try and combat it, but the impending return is always looming over our heads. That, of course, may seem like a self-fulfilling prophecy, but believe me, the last thing any of us want is to be on a down-swing at a most inopportune time. One of the most difficult things about predicting depression is that we never know what it might be that will trigger an episode.
I will use Friday, January 28 as a model for how quickly and violently the depression monster can strike.
9:30 am - Alarm goes off. There's lots to do today and it's going to be gorgeous out, so don't waste it.
11:00 am - Look at my clock and realize that I turned my alarm off and had gone back to sleep. Go back to sleep.
12:30 pm - Wake up. Get out of bed.
1 pm - Finally get dressed and leave the house.
1:30-2 pm - Put money in the bank. Be pleasantly surprised at the resulting balance. Pick up tax forms at the library.
2:15 pm - Go to Subway for a turkey sandwich. Actually order a buffalo chicken sandwich.
2:45-4 pm - Do taxes. Be happy that, after two years of owing hundreds of dollars, I'm getting money back from both Federal and State. Feeling really good about the day and myself.
4:30 pm - Sit around.
5:30 pm - Try to decide if I really want to go out by myself tonight.
5:45 pm - If I stay in my neighborhood, I can walk everywhere, but there's only three places I really like to go. Dink around on the internet.
6:00 pm - If I go downtown, I'll have to drive and pay for parking. But I know a lot more people downtown and there are more places to go. There will also be more opportunity to be ignored by girls. Dink around on the internet.
6:15 pm - Maybe I'll just go to dinner in my neighborhood and come home. But I have a tendency to get depressed when I'm not being social.
6:20 pm - I also have a tendency to get depressed when I go out, spend too much money, and still don't have the kind of "fun" night one might imagine you could have downtown on a Friday night.
6:25 pm - Dink around on the internet.
6:30 pm - I'm really not even that hungry.
7:00 pm - Starting to get hungry. Okay, I'll go out. Maybe I'll just go have a steak at Texas Roadhouse. That way, because it's so far away, I can just go and come back without feeling like I "went out."
7:10 pm - Decide to flip a coin to determine if I'll stay in the neighborhood or go downtown. Heads: Neighborhood, Tails: Downtown. It's heads. I decide to go downtown.
7:30 pm - Head to the bathroom to shower.
Now, this is the point in the story where things really took a turn for the worst. I won't bother with time-stamping it, I'll just go through it all:
-Look in the mirror and hate my goatee. Don't feel like trimming it properly, so I decide that I'll shave it off.
-Shower. Nice and refreshing. All bits and pieces and crevices thoroughly washed.
-End shower. Now that my hair is longer, I use gel in it to help tame the "frizz." But I hate putting on my shirt over my freshly finger-styled hair, so it now becomes a process: dry my torso, deodorize my pits, shirt on, then gel the hair, then shave.
-Screw up the process when, out of habit, I start immediately putting shaving cream on my face. But as any of you who have shaved your face know, the best shave is done on whiskers fresh out of the shower.
-Shave.
-Deodorize and put on shirt.
-Gel hair. Hate how it comes out. My hair is kind of in a "tweener" phase right now, not short enough to lay flat, not long enough to be curly. It's annoying.
-Wet hair.
-Gel hair. Still hate it.
-Decide that I'll just wear a hat. Besides, I look good in a hat. Be pissed at myself because of all the time and gel I just wasted.
-Realize that my chosen wardrobe for the night won't look good with a hat. I'll just wear a sweatshirt, I guess. Which really isn't any different than any other night.
-Realize that tonight, overall, probably won't be any different than any other night. It'll just be more crowded.
-Look in the mirror and realize how fat I've gotten. And I probably shouldn't have shaved off the goatee.
So now you have a glimpse into the mind of a depressive. And I know what some of you might be thinking: "Kevin, your life is never going to change unless you change it. Things will never get better unless you work to make them better."
Yes, I know all that. I spend most of my free time telling myself that. I've been trying to go back to the gym for over a year, now. I've been thinking about re-vamping my wardrobe, but I don't want to do that until I've lost weight. I've been thinking about cleaning my car and my room, but for what? No one is going to come over and stay the night until I lose some weight and get some new clothes and become more desirable. And I don't make it to the gym because I wake up late, then there isn't enough time before work, then I'm too tired after work. Can you see the vicious cycle? Anyone?
Anyone?
--TheKevin--
Friday, January 28, 2011
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
Road Rage
There are two kinds of people in the world: those who know how to drive, and those who don't. Unfortunately, many people in the latter category think that they're in the former. Personally, I'm certain that I fall into the first category, since I drove for a living for a number of years, which means my car and I are one. As luck would have it, this just makes everyone else's driving "skills" all the more annoying. This little ditty is for all the people who annoy the shit out of me when I'm in my car.
Reasons you think I drive like an asshole:
1. I drive faster than you.
2. I have no patience for you.
3. If you really annoy me, I tailgate.
Reasons I know you drive like an asshole:
1. You drive like a timid, frightened bojingo.
2. You drive while applying makeup.
3. You drive while talking on the phone.
4. You drive while reading, you incredible fucking moron.
5. You seldom, if ever, use your blinker.
6. When you do use your blinker, you use it way too late to make much of a difference.
7. Or you use it way too early.
8. Or you use it, then leave it on for the next 10 miles.
9. You don't check your mirrors.
10. You don't check your blind spots.
11. You do check your blind spot, but when you do it you swerve into the lane you're checking.
12. It takes you so long to switch lanes that you're in both lanes for about a minute.
13. You dive into the next lane with no warning.
14. You dive from the fast lane to the exit ramp at the last possible second.
15. You refuse to go with the flow of traffic, leaving ginormous gaps between you and the next car.
16. Yet you follow way too close in bad weather.
17. You drive exactly 3.5 miles per hour at the slightest sign of rain or snow.
18. You don't turn you lights on in bad weather.
19. You have your brights on for no reason whatsoever.
20. You slam on your brakes unnecessarily at the merest hint of the car in front of you slowing down.
21. You pass me, then get in front of me and slow down.
22. You change lanes, go racing up next to me, only to realize that there isn't, nor has there ever been, enough room to get by me.
23. You drive the speed limit in the fast lane. On purpose. Because you feel the need to teach others some bizarre sort of lesson. You. Asshole.
24. You drive the speed limit in any lane.
25. You think that the speed limit is an iron-clad, unbreakable barrier.
26. You refuse to get out of the way of someone going faster than you, regardless of the fact that you have ample time and room to do so.
27. You drive 40 MPH on the onramp.
28. You start to pass a semi, then go the exact same speed as it for the next 20 miles.
29. You have absolutely no idea how to merge.
30. You apparently think that every turn should be made at 2 MPH.
31. You accelerate so slowly that nobody else makes it through the light.
32. You don't seem to know that green means "go."
33. You defy the laws of biology and physics by driving with your head up your ass.
In summation, I can drive while texting, drinking, reading, and having a hemorrhagic stroke and still drive with more awareness than you do. You are a menace who endangers everyone around you when you drive, and someone needs to take your car away from you.
--Gryffindork
Reasons you think I drive like an asshole:
1. I drive faster than you.
2. I have no patience for you.
3. If you really annoy me, I tailgate.
Reasons I know you drive like an asshole:
1. You drive like a timid, frightened bojingo.
2. You drive while applying makeup.
3. You drive while talking on the phone.
4. You drive while reading, you incredible fucking moron.
5. You seldom, if ever, use your blinker.
6. When you do use your blinker, you use it way too late to make much of a difference.
7. Or you use it way too early.
8. Or you use it, then leave it on for the next 10 miles.
9. You don't check your mirrors.
10. You don't check your blind spots.
11. You do check your blind spot, but when you do it you swerve into the lane you're checking.
12. It takes you so long to switch lanes that you're in both lanes for about a minute.
13. You dive into the next lane with no warning.
14. You dive from the fast lane to the exit ramp at the last possible second.
15. You refuse to go with the flow of traffic, leaving ginormous gaps between you and the next car.
16. Yet you follow way too close in bad weather.
17. You drive exactly 3.5 miles per hour at the slightest sign of rain or snow.
18. You don't turn you lights on in bad weather.
19. You have your brights on for no reason whatsoever.
20. You slam on your brakes unnecessarily at the merest hint of the car in front of you slowing down.
21. You pass me, then get in front of me and slow down.
22. You change lanes, go racing up next to me, only to realize that there isn't, nor has there ever been, enough room to get by me.
23. You drive the speed limit in the fast lane. On purpose. Because you feel the need to teach others some bizarre sort of lesson. You. Asshole.
24. You drive the speed limit in any lane.
25. You think that the speed limit is an iron-clad, unbreakable barrier.
26. You refuse to get out of the way of someone going faster than you, regardless of the fact that you have ample time and room to do so.
27. You drive 40 MPH on the onramp.
28. You start to pass a semi, then go the exact same speed as it for the next 20 miles.
29. You have absolutely no idea how to merge.
30. You apparently think that every turn should be made at 2 MPH.
31. You accelerate so slowly that nobody else makes it through the light.
32. You don't seem to know that green means "go."
33. You defy the laws of biology and physics by driving with your head up your ass.
In summation, I can drive while texting, drinking, reading, and having a hemorrhagic stroke and still drive with more awareness than you do. You are a menace who endangers everyone around you when you drive, and someone needs to take your car away from you.
--Gryffindork
Saturday, January 22, 2011
The Snozzberries Taste Like Snozzberries!
I was watching Super Troopers yesterday, and, as always, the opening scene made me laugh my ass off:
While I was watching it, it occurred to me that there are two kinds of people in the world: those who identify with the cops, and those who identify with the kids.
I think it's pretty obvious which category I fall into.
--Gryffindork
While I was watching it, it occurred to me that there are two kinds of people in the world: those who identify with the cops, and those who identify with the kids.
I think it's pretty obvious which category I fall into.
--Gryffindork
Friday, January 21, 2011
Tic-Tac-D'oh!
According to this here article, PETA is (or was; the original article is from 2002) up in arms about casinos which offered the "Tic-Tac-Toe Chicken Challenge," which features a live chicken playing tic-tac-toe against gamblers and, according to the article, usually winning.
Now I'll happily admit that this is a weird choice on the part of the casinos (as well as the players), but is it cruel? An older article states that the chickens of Casino Aztar are "kept in a temperature-controlled, smoke-free environment where they are regularly cared for and fed" when they are not out beating the pants off of losers with avian-themed gambling addictions. The Aztar has 15 chickens, which are rotated into the...ahem...field of play on an hourly basis.
Now, I'm sympathetic with the sentiment that our animal brothers and sisters are not meant to be used as toys, but that hasn't stopped Paris Hilton and a bunch of other imbeciles from using dogs like fashion accessories. And, as far as I'm aware, PETA hasn't said "boo" to them. So why the big deal over the chickens?
If anything, these chickens have got it made. They're not stuffed into small, cramped spaces with a bajillion other chickens, enduring who knows how much misery until the happy day when their heads are lopped off and the rest of them is sent to KFC. Sure, they're not exactly "home on the range," but I'll take a casino over a death camp.
And let's face it, PETA has left out one bit of information in the casino's favor: the sweet, sweet joy the chickens surely feel after beating people dumber than birds.
So, for what seems like the millionth time, I say, "Get a life, PETA." Go eat some tofu, and then use your protein- and nutrient-starved bodies for some yoga. Lord knows you don't have the energy for more aerobic-based activities.
--Gryffindork
Now I'll happily admit that this is a weird choice on the part of the casinos (as well as the players), but is it cruel? An older article states that the chickens of Casino Aztar are "kept in a temperature-controlled, smoke-free environment where they are regularly cared for and fed" when they are not out beating the pants off of losers with avian-themed gambling addictions. The Aztar has 15 chickens, which are rotated into the...ahem...field of play on an hourly basis.
Now, I'm sympathetic with the sentiment that our animal brothers and sisters are not meant to be used as toys, but that hasn't stopped Paris Hilton and a bunch of other imbeciles from using dogs like fashion accessories. And, as far as I'm aware, PETA hasn't said "boo" to them. So why the big deal over the chickens?
If anything, these chickens have got it made. They're not stuffed into small, cramped spaces with a bajillion other chickens, enduring who knows how much misery until the happy day when their heads are lopped off and the rest of them is sent to KFC. Sure, they're not exactly "home on the range," but I'll take a casino over a death camp.
And let's face it, PETA has left out one bit of information in the casino's favor: the sweet, sweet joy the chickens surely feel after beating people dumber than birds.
So, for what seems like the millionth time, I say, "Get a life, PETA." Go eat some tofu, and then use your protein- and nutrient-starved bodies for some yoga. Lord knows you don't have the energy for more aerobic-based activities.
--Gryffindork
Thursday, January 20, 2011
Just a Lil' Taste
Here's the Flotsam & Jetsam section from my latest Geeks blog, just so you have an idea of what to expect from me. If you're ever confused as to what I'm talking about, it's probably because I'm referencing parts of the pub quiz I hosted.
--Winston Churchill was the British Prime Minister who said, “Keep buggering on.” I hear Elton John has said the same thing once or twice.
--I’m not surprised that Glenn Beck hates Woodrow Wilson, the only President to have a PhD. I’m sure he hates anyone with enough intelligence to see that he’s a dishonest and manipulative sack of shit.
--Gryffindork
--Winston Churchill was the British Prime Minister who said, “Keep buggering on.” I hear Elton John has said the same thing once or twice.
--I recognized Steve Winwood’s name, but couldn’t quite place it. Now I realize that this is why I know him:
I don’t know what’s more awesome: ‘80s music or ‘80s videos.
--Tonight’s Round 2 required you guys to know the album name, rather than the song titles. More of a challenge than normal, and your scores reflected that. But hey, I’m proud of the fact that none of you were able to identify My Chemical Romance or their album. Clearly you have taste.
--Amazingly enough, Jupiter’s day lasts only 9.9 hours. How something that big moves so quickly is beyond me. One might even call that tidbit of information…dizzying. Nyuck nyuck.
--It hurts my brain to know that Patrick Ewing has more regular-season points than Magic Johnson. Apparently HIV affects your aim.
--Asking who had more Billboard hits, the Eagles or the Jets, is like asking who had more profound insights into the universe, Einstein or Lenny from Of Mice & Men.
--According to Business Insider, Boulder is the happiest city in America. I’m thinking this has something to do with being rich and perma-stoned.
--Rodeo groupies are apparently called “buckle bunnies.” I think “horse whores” has a nicer ring to it.
--I was going to ask why there needed to be an International Gay Rodeo Association, but then I went to Wiki and found this. Yeah, I can see why they wouldn’t want to do that around a bunch of homophobic rednecks.
--“Mutton busting,” huh? Sounds like something a Welshman would be interested in.
--Double-Stuf Oreos = a party in my mouth.
-- Is it just me, or did Roy Orbison look and sound like a lesbian? Come to think of it, were Roy and K.D. Lang ever seen together in the same room?
 |
| Roy... |
 |
| ...Is that you? |
--I’ve got nothing against Sarah McLachlan. I’m not a huge fan, but she’s got a couple of songs that I don’t mind listening to. Unfortunately, her rendition of “Unchained Melody” isn’t one of them. Holy crap. If you ever want to help a depressive commit suicide, just play that morose piece of crap repeatedly.
--Elvis: so so so so SO overrated.
--Gryffindork
The Dating Game: Exes and Ohs
I don't know if all of this is a game. On the one hand, you hear people refer to it as the "dating game." On the other hand, you're often warned that "love isn't a game." But isn't dating supposed to lead to love? And if one is a game and the other one isn't, how do you move from the former to the latter? While perusing singles ads on Craigslist, you can find any number of women requesting guys that "don't play head games." Okay, but are love games allowed? And if so, how do I know what's good and what's bad?
I recently had a rematch with two of my ex-girlfriends (not at the same time, mind you, because I would have NEVER quit that game in the first place) and despite enjoyable experiences on both dates, I'm still left lonely and confused.
Ex #1: I might refer to this one as a perpetual re-start. We met eight years ago and dated for ten months. At the time, that was the longest relationship I'd had in my "adult" life (now that I think about it, that's still the longest relationship I've had as an adult). Things didn't work out between us, mostly because I discovered a lot of female interest in moi and I wanted to explore that; a.k.a. I wanted to date other people. Long story short, we ran into each other off and on for the next six years, never dating, but always having a good time and enjoying each other's company. Then, in the spring of 2009, we tried, once again, to give it a go. I felt like I was ready to be in a relationship and I knew that I truly enjoyed hanging out with her. Once again, for a variety of reasons, it didn't work.
Then, a couple weeks ago, we texted each other and decided to meet up and catch up. Over drinks, we filled each other in on the details of our lives over the last couple years, and, as she is wont to do, she started bringing up our failed relationship attempts with each other. This part of our evenings always seemed to bring out the current state of loneliness in both of us, and this night was no different. We agreed that we really enjoy spending time together. We agreed that we both had some things we needed to work on. We agreed that we both wanted the same things out of a relationship. Then we agreed to go home together.
The next morning we made plans to call and text and there were promises that she would try to join me for my upcoming birthday festivities. We did a good job of texting the next few days, but when my birthday rolled around, I didn't hear one word from her. And I still haven't to this day.
So was this a game? Was this a head game or a love game? Should I completely disregard the conversations we had and chalk it up to a lost cause? I may never know. Personally, I'm betting 100 quid that she got back together with the boyfriend from her freshly broken up relationship.
Ex #2: Crazy is as crazy does. For those of you who know about whom I speak, please don't judge, because sometimes loneliness makes us do strange things. And the strangest thing was that we had a really good time. Which I guess isn't so strange, considering we didn't have the specter of a relationship surrounding us. It was easy and laid back. And I went home alone.
So now the question becomes WHY CAN'T IT BE LIKE THAT EVERY TIME (except for the going home alone part, that part always sucks)? What is it about having announced that you're in a relationship together that seems to ruin or put pressure on the time you spend together? That date was enjoyable enough that it is seriously forcing me to consider trying to make another run with Crazy.
The thing is, if this is a game, there's no playbook to help me through it. I don't have a manual directing me to call instead of text, or whatever. As much fun as dating can be, it's also a lot of work. And I've never found work to be fun. Games are fun.
My best girl friend from college, Rebecca, may have said it best. One day, as I was heading out for a date, she called to me from across the parking lot:
"Good luck!" she yelled.
"Good luck?" I replied. "It's not like I'm going to a game or something."
"They wouldn't call it scoring if it wasn't a game."
Touché
--TheKevin--
I recently had a rematch with two of my ex-girlfriends (not at the same time, mind you, because I would have NEVER quit that game in the first place) and despite enjoyable experiences on both dates, I'm still left lonely and confused.
Ex #1: I might refer to this one as a perpetual re-start. We met eight years ago and dated for ten months. At the time, that was the longest relationship I'd had in my "adult" life (now that I think about it, that's still the longest relationship I've had as an adult). Things didn't work out between us, mostly because I discovered a lot of female interest in moi and I wanted to explore that; a.k.a. I wanted to date other people. Long story short, we ran into each other off and on for the next six years, never dating, but always having a good time and enjoying each other's company. Then, in the spring of 2009, we tried, once again, to give it a go. I felt like I was ready to be in a relationship and I knew that I truly enjoyed hanging out with her. Once again, for a variety of reasons, it didn't work.
Then, a couple weeks ago, we texted each other and decided to meet up and catch up. Over drinks, we filled each other in on the details of our lives over the last couple years, and, as she is wont to do, she started bringing up our failed relationship attempts with each other. This part of our evenings always seemed to bring out the current state of loneliness in both of us, and this night was no different. We agreed that we really enjoy spending time together. We agreed that we both had some things we needed to work on. We agreed that we both wanted the same things out of a relationship. Then we agreed to go home together.
The next morning we made plans to call and text and there were promises that she would try to join me for my upcoming birthday festivities. We did a good job of texting the next few days, but when my birthday rolled around, I didn't hear one word from her. And I still haven't to this day.
So was this a game? Was this a head game or a love game? Should I completely disregard the conversations we had and chalk it up to a lost cause? I may never know. Personally, I'm betting 100 quid that she got back together with the boyfriend from her freshly broken up relationship.
Ex #2: Crazy is as crazy does. For those of you who know about whom I speak, please don't judge, because sometimes loneliness makes us do strange things. And the strangest thing was that we had a really good time. Which I guess isn't so strange, considering we didn't have the specter of a relationship surrounding us. It was easy and laid back. And I went home alone.
So now the question becomes WHY CAN'T IT BE LIKE THAT EVERY TIME (except for the going home alone part, that part always sucks)? What is it about having announced that you're in a relationship together that seems to ruin or put pressure on the time you spend together? That date was enjoyable enough that it is seriously forcing me to consider trying to make another run with Crazy.
The thing is, if this is a game, there's no playbook to help me through it. I don't have a manual directing me to call instead of text, or whatever. As much fun as dating can be, it's also a lot of work. And I've never found work to be fun. Games are fun.
My best girl friend from college, Rebecca, may have said it best. One day, as I was heading out for a date, she called to me from across the parking lot:
"Good luck!" she yelled.
"Good luck?" I replied. "It's not like I'm going to a game or something."
"They wouldn't call it scoring if it wasn't a game."
Touché
--TheKevin--
What Up, Home Skillet?
Welcome to Flotsam & Jetsam, my new blog.
I had a previous blog, but it fell by the wayside when I started working for Geeks Who Drink, the coolest pub quiz company on the planet (Geeks is in 13 states now, so check out the website to see if there's a pub quiz near you). If you don't know what a pub quiz is, well, it's like trivia, but cooler.
The point is that my blogging for Geeks tuckered me out, and left little time for my personal blog. But upon the advice of my bestest buddy, TheKevin, I'm taking a feature of my Geeks blogs, Flotsam & Jetsam, and super sizing it. I'll concentrate mostly on brief blurbs about whatever crosses my mind, but will occasionally write more lengthy entries as well. Whatever floats my boat. I might even import some of my old blog entries.
And as an added bonus, TheKevin will be contributing to the blog as well, so Flotsam & Jetsam will have double the pleasure, double the fun! And hell, I might even hook up with other writers, too. We'll see how things go.
In the meantime, you can catch me here, on my pub quiz's blog at the Geeks website, and at the British Bulldog on Monday nights at 8.
Peace out, G-funk!
--Gryffindork
I had a previous blog, but it fell by the wayside when I started working for Geeks Who Drink, the coolest pub quiz company on the planet (Geeks is in 13 states now, so check out the website to see if there's a pub quiz near you). If you don't know what a pub quiz is, well, it's like trivia, but cooler.
The point is that my blogging for Geeks tuckered me out, and left little time for my personal blog. But upon the advice of my bestest buddy, TheKevin, I'm taking a feature of my Geeks blogs, Flotsam & Jetsam, and super sizing it. I'll concentrate mostly on brief blurbs about whatever crosses my mind, but will occasionally write more lengthy entries as well. Whatever floats my boat. I might even import some of my old blog entries.
And as an added bonus, TheKevin will be contributing to the blog as well, so Flotsam & Jetsam will have double the pleasure, double the fun! And hell, I might even hook up with other writers, too. We'll see how things go.
In the meantime, you can catch me here, on my pub quiz's blog at the Geeks website, and at the British Bulldog on Monday nights at 8.
Peace out, G-funk!
--Gryffindork
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