“Jordan Peterson LIVE: 12 Rules for Life – An Antidote to Chaos”

His 4th appearance on the Rubin Report:

More tunes and thoughts in November

Back in from turkey night. Ate myself stuffed. Calories and carbs were ridiculous. But it was a great meal. Left me feeling very thankful, appreciative and blessed. He worked hard on that meal, as he always does, and he’s a very good cook. It’s been a nice day.

Things can always be worse — that’s a very true statement. Don’t realize how good we’ve got until it’s gone is another true statement. We’re lucky to be loved and to love. Isn’t always (or usually) on time, but c’est la vie. Hidden blessings matter too. And sometimes we do get what we wish for and find out why we’re admonished to be careful with our wishes.

All truly is simply what it is, much as some hate that little declaration. Super simple yet inescapable truism. We like to think we can dramatically alter reality, and in our own limited ways we indeed can, but the Truth remains unaffected by our whims and fancies.

Anyway, also grateful for my cat. She’s a somewhat naughty girl, but she’s my lovebug. Gotten in the habit of trying to balance on my breasts while I sleep, nips on a regular basis, and thinks she’s a monkey. Otherwise she’s pretty well-behaved and sweet. A good baby. Been my housemate for a nearly a decade now.

Grateful for a warm apartment, working plumbing, a decent car, a job I like, grandparents who loved me, my true-blue friends, a largely-functional society, a healthy brother, being surrounded by so many interesting books, amazing music, and this computer before me that delivers an ungodly stream of information and entertainment, as well as allowing us to communicate quickly across long distances. Also grateful for the other technologies I rely upon, much as I gripe about modernity and its overwhelming abundance of stuff.

Time to turn on some more tunes. Beginning with one that plays regularly in my car, “Man Who Sold the World” cover by Nirvana:

Adore that song.

That was Buffalo Springfield’s “For What It’s Worth.” It plays regularly and risks turning into little more than barely noticed background noise. Worthwhile to pause occasionally and pay close attention to its lyrics, to really let it sink in and feel it. We are where we are and it’s been coming a long time. Continuously unfolding. God only knows what all lays in store for us as a society.

“In the Flesh” by Pink Floyd:

“Karma Police” by Radiohead:

Works that way more often than we realize. ‘Course we aren’t the best at recognizing cause and effect anyhow, forever distracted with rationalizations and explanations that accord with what we prefer were true.

Simon & Garfunkel’s “The Sound of Silence” (1964 version):

Nina Simone performing “The Sound of Silence” on the piano (circa 1968):

Switching gears, R.L. Burnside’s “.44 Blues”:

One of Mississippi’s finest homegrown bluesmen, there shown performing in the U.K. in the early ’90s.

That’s enough for one evening. Getting late.

Music for a fallen one

A song he liked to listen to during the first year I knew him (1999), Everlast’s “What It’s Like”:

Never listen to that song without remembering him. And its sentiment permeated my life from thereon, now nearly 20 years later.

A tune from the time when we moved just south of Memphis (2001-2002), System of a Down’s “Toxicity”:

From the same band, “Aerials”:

He enjoyed Metallica too.

That was “Nothing Else Matters.”

Metallica’s “The Unforgiven”:

His taste in music left a definite impression on me.

Everlast “Ends”:

Nirvana’s “Polly”:

Dwight Yoakam – “A Thousand Miles From Nowhere”:

Dwight Yoakam’s “Suspicious Minds”:

I recall having that one as my ringtone for his phone number after we separated. Though I always preferred Elvis Presley’s original version.

Moby’s “Natural Blues”:

“Streets of Bakersfield” by Buck Owens (this rendition including Dwight Yoakam):

Kid Rock – “Bawitdaba”:

Lastly, Hot Chocolate’s “You Sexy Thing”:

A bit of an inside story on that last one. Young love is a funny thing.

Today was his birthday. He would’ve been 37 years old, but instead he died just shy of his 32nd birthday. We never again met in person after late 2002, then later quit speaking altogether for at least 4 years until I finally looked him up on Facebook a few years ago and contacted him. We talked on the phone a few times, maybe 4 times total, over the span of a couple years. Made as much peace as we could with the past. And then Grandma called one day out of the blue to say she heard he may have passed, and sure enough, it was him.

He’s never not been on my mind, though I remain glad that we went our separate ways back when we did. Our young relationship had run its course. But we made a big impact on one another during our time together, as we discussed a bit during our final phone calls. Went through a lot together and changed one another, for better or worse. Every year around this time I always recognize him in my thoughts, wondering what the afterlife must be like, if such a thing exists. Wondering if he truly found a sense of peace. Strange to have outlived him — still doesn’t seem quite real that he’s no longer among the living.

I’m forever grateful that we did talk on the phone and decided to let bygones be bygones, having no way of knowing what the future held in store. Had I waited on calling him, we might never have spoken again, and I’d hate for that to have been the case, considering it really seemed to help in letting old resentments go. Goes to show that we never know when our time is up, so say what ya gotta say now while there’s still time. No guarantees on tomorrow for any of us.

Rest in peace, EHF.

Funk rejection (an update)

Pulling up out of the funk I’ve been in the last few days. Was kind of rough for a minute there. Very likely hormones played a role. Not much can be done about it other than to wait it out. Might make some folks uncomfortable to even hear about, but so be it. It comes and goes, but always it will return. Figured out by now that to expect to live without the funk’s repeated interruptions is a pipe dream. Certainly helps to pull out of it when my loved ones and I are getting along. And I’ll leave it at that for now.

Went in for a massage yesterday, courtesy of a gift certificate received by a lady I work for. Had the masseuse lady work mostly on my left arm and back since those are my problem spots currently. And she did an amazing job! Haven’t had many professional massages (maybe 3 now total), and that was the best so far. Confirmed that I probably do have a mild case of so-called tennis elbow from strength training, so I have to take it easier on my triceps for a while. Need to pay better attention to my form too. But then she said it seemed to her that I have a disc problem in my lower back, which I figured has been the case for years. Can’t afford to see a doctor for that, so my only option is to strengthen my back and core enough to manage it, as I’ve been doing. There will be no surgeries in my future, no MRI scans, nada. Only physical therapy on my own and with my gym trainer. Been knowing this has been a problem for a long time already, perhaps since teenagehood when I first began experiencing acute lower back pain, but regular exercise has helped immensely in reducing the pinched nerve pain down my left leg over the last 3 years. It returns occasionally, but I’m doing a lot better these days than I was about 4 years ago. So, in short, strength training has helped, and I intend to keep it up for the rest of my life in order to maintain the feeling of relief.

We humans weren’t designed the greatest when it comes to our backs. Becoming bipedal messed us all up apparently. Ha!  But c’est la vie. My best guyfriend has been suffering major back pain again lately also, and he went in to see the doctor this past week since it got to where he couldn’t stand. Already had a surgery many years ago for discs in his back, and now other discs are acting up on him. Unfortunate. Difficult to enjoy living when your back hurts too much. He’s always been an active guy, but still he has to go through this. Not sure what to say about it other than to expand his exercise regimen since biking doesn’t really help build the muscles to support the back. He has medical insurance so they’ve provided him with pain pills and an exercise plan, with the option to undergo another surgery in the future if needed.

Told both him and Former that they ought to go in and see the massage lady I met with yesterday. Might do them each some good. Of course Former will have nothing to do with it, for whatever reasons.

Been cooking a decent amount lately, per my new norm since I’m trying to improve my diet. Fell in love with roasted brussels sprouts (who’d a thunk it?!). Been eating on leftovers of a beef mac-n-cheese with broccoli cuts tossed in — came out terrific. Made avocado/banana brownies again a week back, which were delicious, but I forgot to freeze them so they went bad pretty quickly. Today I whipped together an olive oil-based pasta salad with zucchini and mozzarella chunks to take over to Former’s house later since he’s cooking up a turkey dinner tonight. Looking forward to all that. Throwing caution to the wind in terms of carbs today so as to enjoy his spread. Last night I experimented with zucchini hasselback, which was just a notched zucchini filled with pepperoni slices and mozzarella (and seasoned with red pepper flakes and garlic powder), baked in an aluminum foil tent until fairly tender. Turned out good. Not a bad alternative to pizza.

What else? Been listening to a couple new audiobooks. Recently I finished The Hacking of the American Mind: The Science Behind the Corporate Takeover of Our Bodies and Brains by Robert H. Lustig. An excerpt from his publisher’s summary of the book:

While researching the toxic and addictive properties of sugar for his New York Times best seller Fat Chance, Robert Lustig made an alarming discovery – our pursuit of happiness is being subverted by a culture of addiction and depression from which we may never recover.

Was a pretty good book by a pediatric endocrinologist. Would recommend it to my peers.

The book I’m currently listening to is Ryan Holiday’s Ego Is the Enemy. It’s so far covered a lot of what I’ve already read elsewhere, but I do really appreciate his delivery style and am planning to check out his book The Obstacle Is the Way in the future.

Haven’t been taking time with any print books lately, preferring instead to listen along while going about my day.

For the record, it’s now been over 21 weeks since embarking on my commitment to quit drinking. No slip-ups, though I did have some strong cravings last weekend for some reason. Former was drinking a strawberry margarita in front of me and I damn-near reached over to sample it. Then he’d partaken in a big sale at some local grocer that marked their alcohol way down, dragging home a crate full of bottles including Captain Morgan rum and wine and some blue stuff. Kind of tripped my trigger for a minute there, but then I refocused my attention and forgot about it. Gets easier and easier to leave alcohol alone. Already know what kind of a beast that particular drug can turn me into, not needing to reconfirm it. Moderation never worked for me, so the only option now is to simply leave it be. And so I do. But the cravings still come and go, as they perhaps always will. That little gremlin in my brain likes to try to remind me of the positive side to drinking, but thankfully I remain well-aware of the downside to it too. Can’t recall one without the other. Any substance that causes me to act like a fool and quit liking myself is no friend of mine.

An old man bar pal called up the other day out of the blue. Might be what initially set my mind to thinking about alcohol again. He asked where I’ve been, said he’d heard through the grapevine that I’d quit drinking, and then suggested that I should still come to the bar and just abstain from drinking while there. Not too interested, frankly. Especially not so as to visit with that particular grabby old man. Told him off a number of times already for groping me and saying perverted shit. Wish he’d lose my phone number (which I gave him a couple years ago when he gave me rides to and from the bar a couple times, before he turned as gropey). But of course everybody out at the bar likes the guy, thinks he’s swell and makes excuses for his behavior toward the younger female clientele (of course we’re all younger than him there). People used to say that I was “being mean” to him when I checked him, that he’s an old man so I should be more tolerant and forgiving. Ugh. Sometimes I really loathed my fellow bar patrons. They liked to make excuses for the sorriest shit. And I wound up looking like a bitch for not going along with the program. Oh well. So be it. I am a bitch. And I don’t like 70+-year-old men pawing at me while I’m out. He’s not entitled to do that. They can all put up with it if it suits them, but it bothered me, so I said so. And yet he still adores me, still considers me special and tries to get me to communicate with him. Says I remind him of his wife when she was younger. Lovely. I gave him a bunch of chances, but now I prefer to avoid him. Sure, it does make me feel kind of like a bad person to be so bitchy toward an old man, but then again, I also am really perturbed to see all these old men out in society demonstrating themselves to be such crappy role models. Don’t teach us anything; just prefer to act like perverts. Just here to get their jollies off messing with the (relative) youths. Gets old. Makes me feel queasy inside. I put up with such nonsense for years from a number of guys in trying to appear easy-going to those I was surrounded by. Well, they’re not worth it. Bunch of loser drunks with skewed consciences so far as I can tell anymore. Not saying that against all of them, but plenty of them, yes. Besides, those who aren’t like the rest still do tend to behave as they do so as not to rock the boat, so how’s that really any better? They enable one another.

So, yeah, I still have a decent amount of animosity toward the barscene. Probably partially because since leaving it I find myself a lot more isolated, yet I know this is for the best. Better than hanging around with a bunch of people who only concern themselves with hedonistic escapism. Gotta keep that party rolling on and on and on, lest they be forced to reckon with real life and how they’re failing at it. Fucking depressing. Depressed me about myself when I was a part of it too. Fifteen years is a long time to devote to such people and places, so I’ve paid my dues. Don’t owe any of them anything anymore. Their lives are their own, and they can poison and ruin them if they so desire. Not my problem and I don’t wish to belong among them. Been there, done that, and damn-near wrecked what I have in the process. And all for what? So as to lose yourself within a crowd? To try to tune out reality? Well, reality has proven to be awfully persistent regardless of how much alcohol I tried pouring on it. Better to just face the facts than keep on dallying until you wind up losing more.

I met so many characters in that lifestyle over the years. But when I sit back now, a few months removed from the last batch, with a sober perspective, I’m unable to grasp what the great appeal really was. Wicked women and stupid men like to populate bars. Myself included in that assessment. What makes us wicked? Remaining immature, which alcohol aids in by allowing us a repeated escape. Keeps one’s thoughts dulled, along with our reflections and introspection. Plus, it puts us in contact with others doing the same thing who are more than happy to pat us on the backs and tell us shit’s not our fault and to lay blame elsewhere. Because every regular in such taverns is looking to escape personal responsibility and negative thoughts about their own past choices and behaviors. Hence why we regularly drank — to escape something. To delude ourselves into believing the problems didn’t lie in us, that we were unfortunate victims of circumstance. That life is largely about luck so all we really need to do is wait around for that stroke of fortune to come our way (no active work required on our parts). To cry in our beers over past loved ones and heart-breaks and questions we can’t find answers to. To drown out the past instead of finding a way to forge through its remnants. To meet up with sexual partners to add to the hedonistic experience and provide an outlet for the mounting tension within. To await death, partying in the meantime, telling ourselves that you only live once and that there’s no point focusing on the things that bring us down. Etc. I’m very familiar with how that lifestyle operated.

Sometimes I get to feeling like I was put here so as to provide an example of what not to do. But now I’m taking steps toward better directions, so perhaps now I can redefine my personal purpose as a striving toward redemption. Lounging around in the muck with those perfectly content behaving as swines doesn’t help one’s soul one iota, especially not when that path is embraced for years on end. And now I stand a mere 5 months removed from it. So I’m still finding my bearings and trying to figure out where to go from here. Figure my Papa is probably proud that I gave it up too, and that gives me some peace. But I am still angry at what that lifestyle represented to me and how I let myself go within it, plus how much jeopardy I placed myself in by dealing with the wrong sorts, as well as what unnecessary drama and jeopardy I created.

It’s very difficult to forgive others, but I’m finding it especially difficult to forgive myself. Though I know I have to let that go eventually so as to move on, the bitterness that realization produces still has a strong hold on me. Makes me angry at myself along with all the others who aided and abetted me. Looking back on them all, I’m having trouble accepting them for who they are. Yes, sure, they’re a bunch of fallible humans like myself who are destined to learn things the hard way, as is natural. But damn. The severity of our blindness and how that spills over onto others is astounding. Willful blindness in many cases. Advantage-taking motivations and raw selfishness. Like not only did we lose our ways, but then we came to encourage others to follow in suit. We spread it around and lured others in so as not to feel lonely in the games we played. To feel validated perhaps, instead of shunned like we very probably deserved. But I was shunned regardless, before then, during, and still now. Gives me mixed feelings there since it felt like the shunning was what I initially (as a very young adult) was aiming to escape in the first place. And you don’t feel like such a misfit when you’re surrounded by a bunch of other misfits.

Too bad it was all an illusion. Didn’t fix a thing and instead created quite a few added problems. But here we are. Onward and upward. Can’t change the past.

There are some very painful aspects from the last few years that will continue to trouble me for many moons to come undoubtedly. Things that I succumbed to. Ways that I behaved. Surprised myself with how cruel I could be. And the reminders are always around. I’d love to blame the drug, but alcohol is only part of the equation. An important part, no question, but only one aspect. The rest involves reckoning with my own human potential, which, come to find out, isn’t so rosy and innocent. People say that you’ll bog yourself down in thinking about all of that, spinning it around in your head, that you’re just at risk of developing a new victim complex of sorts. Hmm. I can see where they’re coming from with that, and I am being careful in this stage as a result. But I have mixed feelings on such claims. You really have to see yourself as you actually are, not what you wish you were, not what you pretend to be, right and wrong. That stage in personal exploration is undeniably important. To try to skip that step is likely to wind one up seeking out another addiction to hide within. And that I cannot tolerate or allow. I’d rather be hard on myself and get it over with than treat myself with kid’s gloves and not ever get to the bottom of this situation, thereby risking history repeating. I understand why others shy away from such talk, as they’re so prone to do, but I am not them nor do I wish to pretend to be like them any longer. I can take the fight and I’m not so scared of myself and my capabilities. Seen enough of my own dark side that I can’t help but be well aware of it. Can’t force a genie back in a bottle once it’s out. Gotta learn to live with it. So that’s where I’m at presently.

So yeah, this is how my days go. One foot in front of the other. Try to keep steady, accepting that sometimes that’s not possible but putting alcohol in my mouth will most certainly only make things worse, as the past has proven. Don’t plan on staying in this state of mind forever, but this remains where I’m at right now. Life doesn’t always (or often) unfold the way we think it should or wish it would. And there’s no shortage of people out there willing to pat us on the back and help in deflecting responsibility elsewhere, but that’s not actually helpful, nice as it might feel at times. If it feels good, question it — that’s become my motto. Because we tend to be weak in the face of comforts and pleasures, though it should be evident by now that a lot of those lull us into a false sense of security. Which certainly doesn’t make us stronger and more competent in managing our lives.

All is a bunch of lessons to learn, and plenty winds up being learned the hard way. Such is life. Hop over one trap only to find ourselves mired in another we didn’t see. That’s just the way it often goes. But that’s also what makes life so interesting and perplexing. If nothing else, it keeps us busy in trying to make heads or tails out of what’s going on. Some days I’m up to the challenge, while others I’d rather hide my head, wondering what the hell this is all for. And that’s precisely the wrong question to be asking. THAT is where we succumb to seeing ourselves and others as victims of circumstances instead of as fellow travelers in this journey we call Life. Giving in to nihilism and destructive tendencies is too easy to be of much (if any) value. Counter-intuitive as it seems, it’s almost as if trying to carry the toughest and heaviest load we can bear winds up bringing greater life satisfaction, as well as provides a better example to others so as to lessen their fears. But I’m still sorting all of that out and won’t make grand claims. I just know that we’re capable of a lot more than we typically give in this life. Sitting up in a bar is for laborers after a long day working, not for commonfolk running from reality.

For a good time, watch Count Dankula

This dude’s channel amuses me so.  hehe  Have to return from time to time to get my jollies.

“I’m A Force Of Nature”:

“Diskkkord”:

“Artism”:

“Welcome To Reality”:

“The 14 Woofs”:

lol2  He and his pug crack me the hell up! (If you’re not familiar with their past legal troubles, look up “nazi pug Count Dankula” on youtube. It’s insane.)

White nationalists worry me too

Just finished watching a couple videos by the youtuber Braving Ruin where he was discussing identity denialism and critiquing how individualism went wrong. He’s a smart guy with a different vantage point who offered up plenty of food for thought. But as I keep looking into videos like his and those from Millennial Woes and similar, and also read the comment sections, I’m left with a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach. Especially when folks get to talking about how mixed people can’t understand their positions and are basically left in outfield in these discussions. Indeed, I do feel as if I’m unwanted by all who take such positions. Such talk makes me nervous, very much so, because they speak of those of us who happened to be mixed with a type of degrading pity, as though we don’t belong, as though we’re somehow not real Americans who care about Western cultures. And that’s neither fair nor accurate.

That right there is the type of shit that has always boiled my blood when going up against white supremacist types. I’ve met them down South in the past and on a few occasions up here in the Midwest. They’re the ones who felt it was perfectly legitimate to call me out (when I was much younger) in front of people and state loudly that I am not “all white,” as if that were a putdown. I recall one such episode when I was a teenager in my hometown in Mississippi very clearly. But it didn’t get to me much at the time since most folks didn’t treat me poorly, so I chocked him up to being some random asshole. Now I’m seeing these random assholes appearing regularly online and chiding others in similar ways. Their message invariably is that because we’re not “all white” that somehow that means we’re defective, unwanted. But where do they imagine we’re supposed to go when this is our home and all we’ve ever known too?

Someone in a comment section tonight brought up a few good questions pertaining to this inquiry, asking why mixed people would want to support nationalistic agendas framed in this sort of way when it’s pretty obvious that eventually we’d be discarded by such a movement. We don’t fit their demographic criteria, no matter what’s in our hearts and minds, no matter how we may choose to live, no matter how much pride we might feel for this country (despite criticizing its shortcomings). Someone like me would be a FOOL to support an ethno-nationalist agenda — I’m well-aware of that fact and always have been.

But then I also get torn because all of my family is white (with a little Native American mixed in for good measure) and most of my friends are also white. And since I care about them I want to see them be okay in the end ultimately. That pits me and my own interests against those of my loved ones, though I know that none of my loved ones support an ethno-state and don’t believe in such divisions according to race. But this sort of ideology itself aims to pit loved ones against loved ones, don’t you see? It’d be asking my Grandma to turn her back on me, which she would never do. And it’d be asking me to separate myself from my closest friends, which I’d rather die than experience. Absolutely serious on that point. My friends and family mean the world to me, they are all that keeps me sane and I would completely lost without them. So to think of some crazy ideology wishing to separate people based on something so arbitrary as race alone is just sick. Deeply disturbing.

Yeah, I’m getting emotional on this topic tonight. Been emotional the last couple of days already, but this one really hits a nerve. It’s been tough enough coming up the product of an out-of-wedlock pregnancy, born to a woman who wasn’t really suited to motherhood, and thereby winding up being raised a good bit by my grandparents. I’m very grateful for the sacrifices they made in taking me in when I needed them most. Hate to imagine how life might otherwise have gone. My Papa and my Grandma represent what blood and soil means for me — and understanding that cuts straight down to my core, needing no explanation to strangers. My love with them has always been fierce and I pity the son of a bitch who’d ever aim to divide a family’s love just because somebody isn’t “white enough” according to their standards. Ya know, I grew up feeling like a burden and it’s given me a complex that I haven’t been able to shake to this day, and it makes me awfully sad to think that there’s a growing number of people out there who’d agree with that sentiment based purely on some blood differences. Not even cultural differences, not national differences. Just some fucking blood, some genetic material that only ever can lead us to generalized assessments of groups, saying very little about each individual therein.

I’ve told myself over the years that I ought not feel like a lesser person than others, that I have as much of a right to walk this earth as any of them do. And it’s true. Just as it’s true for all of you (save for those who forfeit that right by exterminating others unlawfully). We were born and we’re now here whether folks like it or not. Regardless of how much some might like to wax poetic on topics of ethnic pride and homogeneity. Sure, we do differ, but that’s true intraracially as much as interracially. Go read about it. I’m sure Dr. Charles Murray could explain it you.

Then I get to thinking about my best girlfriend (American of German and Swedish descent) and her Mexican husband and their mixed kids. They have a good family, and may they never be parted. To look upon them as a union that should’ve never taken place sounds to me like blasphemous thoughts. How dare you. Seriously. How dare someone concern themselves with matters that are truly none of your fucking business. Love trumps such nonsense. As it should. Thank God for that!

Yet these same people so often call themselves Christians. That hypocrisy is one reason I prefer not to live down South anymore. Yeah, I said it and I meant it. Though I recognize the Midwest has their fair share of jerks and tools too — at least up here people are more inclined to keep their opinions to themselves on such matters. Keep it behind closed doors and among close friends at least. Unlike some of the loud-mouth Southerners I’ve encountered who just can’t control themselves when it comes to blabbing about shit that doesn’t concern them. From other people’s religions (when it’s not affronting your own), to their sexual preferences (when it’s not impacting your own), to their family situations (as if you all came up perfectly!), to their race and the race(s) of their loved ones (which in no way directly affects YOU). I’ve long since been sick of it. And it makes me feel guilty still after all these years when I get irate at my fellow Southerners over this age-old bullshit, but oh well. Sometimes it needs to be stated aloud. Seeing as how they’re so notorious about not keeping their damn mouths shut, then maybe they deserve to get an earful back every once in a while.

But this isn’t about Southerners specifically…those are just my own past demons flaring up. Living among them just taught me originally how sick I am of such mindsets and solidified why I refuse to join suit. Not that it would make any sense if I tried. Because here’s the thing: when it all boils down to blood, there’s absolutely nothing you can do or say to change the situation. Can’t erase one’s genes. I could probably lie about mine, but why do so? Why should I have to? For what? Shouldn’t have to lie just so as to live in peace without being harassed by idiots and assholes over matters that shouldn’t concern them.

Though I can hear it already, from the peanut gallery that is emblazoned within my imagination, that these people DO see themselves as affected by persons like myself and unions like my friend has with her husband because we’re all part of this society and can’t help but be impacted by its decline. To which I’ll argue that the decline isn’t a result of people loving one another. Quite the contrary. Seems to me a big reason for the decline is all the divisiveness being sown. Which politicians just adore partaking in. Which we idiots on the ground can’t help but lap up.

Sure, there are real general differences among groups of people. And some perhaps will deem it impossible to live together, to which I say “bye.” Go wherever you’re going then. But that doesn’t entitle you to try to remake this entire society in your idealized vision. No. Certainly doesn’t entitle you to speak of doing violence against people just because you think the races ought to all be kept separated. Such talk is bananas and will be fiercely resisted. For all the wannabe nazis out in the crowd, there’s a whole lot more reasonable and sane people. The latter just happen to have better things to do than engage in battles of the wits with dumbasses online. People like to talk down about the so-called centrists out here, but I’d say don’t sell them short. They’re the many, and while they don’t get as crazy about politics as the nutjobs tend to, that doesn’t mean they’re a bunch of timid lambs waiting to be led to slaughter. Most of my closest people don’t care all that much about politics, but they do care about self-defense and they care a WHOLE BUNCH about their families, friends and neighbors.

I really shouldn’t let this junk get to me, but more and more people keep speaking as though they take these narratives seriously. As if they’re waiting for severe enough economic problems to arise so that they can take advantage of the situation like the opportunistic cockroaches that they are. America was never a white nation. We are indeed a melting pot. Hell, you’d have a hard time finding a white American who isn’t mixed with various European ethnic lineages. Not as if “white” were some sort of monolith. No. We’re all a bunch of mutts. And I imagine this trend will only continue, much to the white nationalists’ dismay. So be it.

If they were really serious, they’d focus more on preserving Western cultures, histories and ideals, instead of placing so much emphasis on race alone.

Race alone doesn’t tell you much about a person. As if we all haven’t met retarded jackass white people. Or retarded jackass black people, for that matter. Or retarded jackass native American people. Or retarded jackass Hispanics. Or retarded jackass Arabs. And I’m willing to bet there are even retarded jackass Orientals as well. ha

As if we don’t know this. As if somebody’s skin color alone is enough to make us want to have something to do with them, no matter how poorly they behave or how they treat us. Because someone’s white doesn’t guarantee they’ll behave loyally toward you any more than it guarantees a non-white won’t. Some out here like to say that individualism has become a problem, that we’re all off living in our little unsustainable bubbles but will eventually be made to recognize the importance of group identities. OK. But there are FAR better bases for forming group identities than race. Or sex/gender, for that matter. Whatever happened to those principles conservatives claimed to care about??

Just gotta remind myself that life is a shitshow sometimes. Not much can be done about that. And we humans aren’t as evolved as we like to think we are.

Shit like this gets me feeling like a misanthrope, like I can’t identify with any of the options being presented, nor do I want to. Want to love the ones I’ve got and do my little part in not horrendously fucking things up so far as I am able, and then not leave descendants to have to deal with this nuthouse.

Bracing for another winter

Feeling kind of down today. Not sure why. Feeling very sensitive.

Finished listening to the audiobook The Chimes by Charles Dickens and before it ended, it had me crying. It’s an emotional day. But at least it had a happy ending, unlike a lot of the books I typically read/listen to.

Grandma called this afternoon, and we had a nice chat. Was good to hear from her since we haven’t been talking as frequently over the last year or so. My best girlfriend tried beeping in too, but I texted to let her know I’d get back to her another day. The timing in their calls, one after the other and both directly after the audiobook went off, had me kind of wondering. As if we can sense one another sometimes despite being many miles apart…

Just wandering thoughts. Superstitiousness never seems to leave me.

Didn’t get to go to the shooting range today as scheduled since Former had a long, bad day at work. So probably for the best for both of us that we skipped today. We went out for Mexican food instead and then lounged around until my late-night appointment called me across town. Promises to be a busy weekend with several scattered appointments throughout, plus a meeting with a new client, plans to meet for coffee with an older lady friend, then plans for dinner on Sunday with my best guyfriend. Maybe we’ll  find time to go to the range later tomorrow afternoon.

Discarded my diet the last couple of days. Had bread last night and tortillas today. Ah well. It’s highly doubtful it’s a food plan I can reasonably expect to adhere to daily no matter what. Life just doesn’t roll that way. But it has been teaching me a lot and I intend to go forward with an eye toward reducing carbohydrate intake most days. Though probably not as low as the keto diet calls for. One issue I’ve had with that low of carb intake is that it’s left me feeling weaker when doing strength training, I’d be doing a set that I’m used to doing but then need to pause after a few reps, then continue, then pause again before finishing out. That kept happening throughout Wednesday’s training session, and Former blames the lack of carbs. So I’ll look into it further.

Had all kinds of things on my mind lately. Many societal concerns, plus private worries over my loved ones and myself staying safe. Though we live in a pretty safe area, I do get nervous in wondering how long it will remain this way. Seeing as how the crime and homicide rates have been ticking upward in recent years. Paranoid? Maybe a little. Mostly just concerned since the close men in my life have a habit of being very helpful toward strangers, and I really hope the day doesn’t come when someone tries to take advantage of their hospitality. Like, for example, on the side of the road when they’re claiming to have car problems. Hell no, I don’t trust people. Well, I do to a point since we have to, but that doesn’t mean I’d put it past a few of them running a scam or acting a fool on the bike trails (as some already do) or trying to break into houses (as already happened at Former’s place a few years back). I trust people to be what we humans tend to be, which is a bunch of opportunists. Until I know you I can’t help but be a bit wary about you. And I sometimes wish my menfolk would be a bit more so as well. Which is sad since it dampens a person’s spirit to have to walk around worrying about who might be trying to work an angle. But we hear the local news and should be aware that things are shifting in this relatively calm city as it continues growing and experiencing so many newcomers from other states. I don’t trust the suburban kids either — too many of them are up to no good also.

LoL  So yeah. In my own little misanthropic mood over here today. Just journaling it out of my system for a spell, like usual. I think it’s all of us aging that’s getting to me. Gets to realizing how vulnerable we all are (and probably always have been, though it was nice feeling blissfully oblivious in our youth). Car accidents. Workplace accidents. Asshole opportunistic people to look out for. And now that fall is creeping toward winter and it’s getting colder outside, there’s the upcoming snow and ice to brace ourselves against.

Now that I think about it, I likely get melancholic around this time every year. Winter’s approaching, and that alone always makes me nervous. Winters here can be so harsh, much harsher than anywhere else I’ve ever lived. But this is the new home, so I try to adjust and get on with it. But when your car starts sliding on ice and the others around you are doing the same, you can’t help but get nervous. Especially if you’ve ever gone off-roading as a result before (as I have once many years back — was pretty scary). Then people get stuck and need to be pushed to get started, so the guys get out to help, but there’s the worry about another car coming along and sliding into them. Scares me straight every winter knowing this going on. I’m not strong enough to help much with pushing, so I don’t usually stop for people other than to call help for them. They say I’d only get in the way otherwise. This place just turns into a big ice rink every winter (except last winter, the mildest on record in a long time). Gotta be careful out walking (my guyfriend fell on his driveway once while out trying to get the mail and smacked his head and back — I’ve fallen on ice several times but usually manage to land on my knees, a big reason why they’re so jacked up). Been rear-ended twice because of ice. I sincerely wish everybody would put snow tires on their vehicles since they help SO MUCH, but they’re pricey ($150/snow tire for a midsize sedan).

The cold itself takes a lot out of you. That chilly air blowing hard in your face, especially in the suburban areas where there aren’t enough trees and tall buildings to break it up. Fingers feel frozen even when inside super-padded insulated gloves. Gotta dress up like the michelin man just to leave the house, padded from head to toe. Long johns on underneath, three layers of shirts, thick Carhartt coat, skull cap plus ear muffs plus scarf, super-thick socks with snow boots with deep treading (and yaktrax for when even more grip is necessary). Hence why it’s no fun going to the gym in the winter — takes a while to change out of all that. Wish I could wear a ski mask so as to keep my nose warm, but then people would look at me funny and probably think I’m trying to rob the place.

Winters are just daunting. We all tend to worry about its approach, though I try really hard not to until it is here since it’s a waste of energy worrying about what inevitably will come. But then here I am, worrying anyway. By the end of this month the snow will have started falling, and it will continue to fall until March, maybe April, maybe even early May. Can’t blame the gods for picking on me in sending me here since I could’ve moved elsewhere by now. This is where the economy is good, and this is where I’ve made a couple close friends.

I tell myself that it’s all a trade-off and that these harsh winters are more bearable than Mississippi’s hot-as-hell summers. And I believe it too, up until around February. That’s the hardest month out of the year, every year. Makes me wish I had more tolerance for heat and bugs and snakes. Causes me to question the locals on why they’ve remained here all their lives. Somewhat amuses me to observe newer transplants trying to cope with all this blusteriness. It’s not fun, not when it gets down below 20 degrees Fahrenheit. But I will say this: I can’t tell much difference between 10 degrees F and zero degrees F. Both suck equally. Especially when prolonged for days on end. And the sun comes out less, and it grows so dark so early. And I’m at the mercy of ambient heat funneled into my apartment — not much way to adjust it other than to either open or close the vents.

Some years we put plastic on the windows to help reduce the draftiness. Thinking this seriously needs to be done to one of Former’s bedroom windows since its outside pane still hasn’t been repaired. While over there I can feel the coooold swirl of air drifting down across my face at night. Have to hide my nose under the down covers to keep warm while I sleep. He doesn’t mind it, but I threaten to freeze to death.

But it’s also the time of year when it’s nice to bake since the oven helps to heat the place. And a lot of us sleep better when it’s cold out (albeit not too damn cold). All that time spent indoors trying to get warm and baking leads to chubbiness though. lol

Ugh. Oh well. Another winter approaches. Nothing can be done about it. Just have to be careful. Could be worse — we could live in Alaska. So gripe, bitch, complain, fret away…changes nothing. Simply is what it is. Year in and year out. Like clockwork.

Preemptive worry never does me any good, but it’s hard to avoid. On a brighter note, Former says he’s thinking of roasting a turkey next weekend. So that will be nice. An early Thanksgiving this year. I need to figure out a veggie side dish to bring along.

If it were only weather that worried me then it wouldn’t be so bad. But when you toss in fear over others acting a fool and worry about technologies not operating as expected and then also wonder what’s going to happen to our nation on a societal scale when there’s all these divisions being sown — then worry transforms into dread. Hard enough to stomach a lot of that when Mother Nature isn’t actively draining you.

Guess this is my way of bracing for at least one inevitable set of circumstances. Maybe we’ll get lucky and experience no blizzards this time around. But as for the rest…I still am unsure how to brace for where that may lead.

For days now the song “I’d Love to Change the World” by Ten Years After continuously plays in the back of my mind…

Inching toward winter (journaling/updates)

In other news, I’ve been doing very well on my diet the past several days. Managing my macros and keeping my carbs under 30g per day (20g or under for 4 of those days). Weighed in on Tuesday and am down to 165 lbs. (fully clothed), so that’s nice. Even decided to snap a photo yesterday (perhaps the first one I’ve taken all year).

cropped_oct312017

Not known for being photogenic, but that’s okay. Working with what I’ve got over here. Hair was frizzy after working out — didn’t feel like trying to get fancy for the camera. So anyway, I’ve been tracking my calories through MyFitnessPal for over 40 days now and am really appreciating that site. Unfortunately I’ve had to stay home and away from Former this past week in order to stay true to my diet, lest he wreck it like usual.  LoL  Missed out on his chili and tacos. Bah! But oh well. Might stop over to visit him tomorrow.

Been working out with my trainer a couple days a week (would like to do so more often but we have schedule conflicts). Beyond that, been going to the gym a day or two a week on my own. Mostly focusing on strength training, plus some cardio on the elliptical. Same old, same old there. Overall I’ve been feeling pretty good. Kind of felt like I might come down with a cold at the beginning of this past weekend, so I stayed in as much as possible and kept warm and managed to stave it off.

Besides that, the new books I’ve listened to in audio format recently were The Art of Invisibility: The World’s Most Famous Hacker Teaches You How to Be Safe in the Age of Big Brother and Big Data by Kevin Mitnick (narrated by Ray Porter); The Dark Net: Inside the Digital Underworld by Jamie Bartlett (narrated by Matt Bates); The Secret History of the World: As Laid Down by the Secret Societies by Mark Booth (narrated by John Lee). Those first two were very interesting (especially enjoyed Ray Porter’s narration) — gave me a lot to think about in terms of personal security online. That last book was a bit of a wild card, and I can’t recall how it ended up on my wishlist. Actually was interesting to take in up until the last chapter or so, then it just seemed to wrap up quickly and in a super-woo-woo form of a happy ending. Can’t put much stock in the content of Mark Booth’s book, but it was something different to contemplate.

Since finishing up those three I decided to re-listen to a couple others: The Antidote: Happiness for People Who Can’t Stand Positive Thinking by Oliver Burkeman (read by the author) and Thomas Sowell’s Civil Rights: Rhetoric or Reality? (really appreciate this one!). Made some electronic bookmarks so that hopefully eventually I’ll get around to uploading clips so as to lure others into checking these books out for themselves.

Believe I already mentioned before on here that I also listened to Steven Pinker’s The Blank Slate: The Modern Denial of Human Nature (and loved it). Would so highly recommend that one to others. It’s a must read for people curious about evolutionary psychology, biology and/or sociology.

Been getting chilly out lately. Down in the upper 30s the last couple of days. Not looking forward to snow, but it’s coming whether I like it or not. Praying this winter doesn’t kick my ass, having been spoiled by such a mild winter last year (which people around here say was highly unusual and probably shouldn’t be expected for another 40 years or so  eye-popping_smilie ). Just a matter of weeks before I have to get my snow tires put back on (usually around Thanksgiving) and start trudging around in my heavy-ass snow boots again. What fun. But ah well. So long as we don’t have blizzards then it’s not so bad.

What else? Oh, my little brother celebrated a birthday recently. He’s now firmly in his 30s. I ordered him a cake, which hopefully tasted good. As always, he’s super busy with work.

Not been getting out much these days aside from working and going to the gym and occasionally visiting a couple of friends. Haven’t set foot in a bar in weeks, therefore I haven’t kept up with any pals in that scene. Yesterday marked week 20 in my commitment to stop drinking alcohol. Still going strong with no problems there. In fact, a couple days ago when I was out driving along I got to thinking about wine, but this time it was accompanied with a sickening feeling, reminiscent of a particular brand I used to buy and a few bad nights I had with it. Wasn’t alluring. So I suppose that’s progress — no longer dreaming of wine in a tempting fashion. Rarely do I miss beer despite that being my main drink of choice. Not sure why. Perhaps I drank enough of it to suit me for an entire lifetime. lol  Probably.  Still amazed at how much money I’ve saved by not going out to bars or buying drinks to bring home. Saves me oodles of money, no joke. Shocks my friends when I calculate up what my average cost of drinking likely was in any given month. Even the one that drinks more heavily seemed surprised. Note: drinkers are notorious about NOT tracking how much we’re spending while involved in that lifestyle. Starting to think I’m having a positive influence on Former since he hasn’t been going out to his bar as often in recent weeks, nor does he seem to be drinking quite as much at home. I never nag him about it since that’s his lifestyle and his choice and I know for certain he’ll never give up alcohol. C’est la vie. But for whatever reason he seems to at least have cut down, which makes me happy in terms of his health.

I certainly haven’t cut down on smoking cigarettes though. If anything I probably smoke a bit more nowadays, unfortunately. So easy to do when I’m hanging around the apartment much of the time. Though I do smoke less when I’m over visiting Former. My lungs have been giving me a little trouble this week, as they do sometimes. Twenty-two years of smoking is taking a toll — imagine that. Though this is one addiction that has my butt straight-up kicked, so I’m pretty terrified of trying to go up against it. Keep saying I will one of these days…

Not been sleeping too well lately. Actually I sleep fine once I finally get to sleep, just can’t seem to get there. Just bounding with energy and curious about what all is going on on the internet at any given moment. Ha! Thinking about picking up some more of that bedtime (Chamomile) tea to see if it might help relax me. Probably need to find ways to exert more physical energy.

And lastly, my eyesight is very noticeably declining. Having trouble reading more and more without the aid of my new drugstore reading glasses. Former says it’s due to all the years I’ve been sitting staring at the computer screen. Heh  He’s likely right. Thinking I’m going to have to locate a coupon and go in to see an eye specialist one of these days and maybe purchase prescription reading glasses. The joys of aging…

Anyway, that’s about it for now. Onward into November!