Sorry, was blogging; had to turn all my braincells off

Communication, who needs it...?

2009-05-25T08:35:00Z

So, our internet in the hotel was completely screwed last night. And, as if that wasn't bad enough, my phone was supposedly charging in the bathroom or, so I thought. Right up until someone called. No idea who it was because, by the time I got to the phone, it had decided that the effort of ringing was too much for it, and the battery completely died and shut off.

I've managed to get a minimal charge on the phone this morning, and the conference centre has at least something vaguely looking like internet access, so... If whoever tried calling me last night ends up reading this, please try again?

A confession of sorts...

2009-05-22T09:01:17Z

Not all that long ago, I perpetrated what, since it happened, I've considered the worst mistake of my life. I will not elaborate on the mistake in question, since it's not the world's place to know, and because the people most intimately impacted by this mistake are not me, though it has certainly impacted me a great deal.

In a knee-jerk and pointlessly selfish reaction to this mistake, I compounded the problem by invading the privacy of my best friend, my former lover, and the only person I've ever completely trusted with my heart, in an effort to hide what I'd done and insulate myself from her inevitable reaction.

There are any number of possible "excuses" that could be made for all of this, up to and including the very lame excuse that I've never been more depressed, lonely, and lost than I have been over the last two months, but there's no excuse for the things I've done.

I cannot apologize enough to those I've hurt through my actions, nor can I ever be likely to make it up to them, to re-build the broken relationships, or to regain the trust or respect of certain people involved, possibly not even my own.

To all involved, and you know who you are, I am deeply sorry for all the harm I've caused. I don't expect your forgiveness, but I do sincerely hope that, as your lives all move forward, what I've done will become inconsequential to your future lives and happiness.

This entry is comment-free, as I don't particularly need either your hatred (I hate myself enough right now), nor your pity (I don't deserve any, what I'm going through, I did to myself).

No regrets...

2009-04-19T05:34:48Z

As I stepped out of the shower and glanced in the mirror, I briefly caught a glimpse of the man Zofia fell in love with six years ago, and he smiled back at me. I don't know if he'll ever truly exist again, but I hope he and I can converge in the future. He was a good man, and I miss both him and the joy he brought to my life, through her.

Nuttier than a fruitcake...

2009-04-05T12:43:15Z

So, I've just watched 21 episodes of an hour-long show in the last 24-hour period. I think I've slipped from "alone and slightly losing it" to "bat-shit insane hermit". Go me.

On the plus side, Bobby spent a fair bit of that time curled up in my arms and purring, so it can't be all bad... Right?

Freedom...

2009-03-31T08:45:56Z

I was going through old journal entries, finding memories -- both happy and sad -- from the past, and I stumbled across this exchange from two anonymous posters. I wish I could attribute the insight to someone, but I have no idea who it was. The words ring very true right now, however:

Poster 1: Freedom is just another word for nothing left to lose.

Poster 2: That's definitely not how I understand freedom. "Freedom" to me is the freedom to choose your own direction and to express who you are.

Poster 1: Yes, that's what freedom is when you start out. And as you choose your direction, decide and express who you are, acquire loving relationships, children, career or volunteer work which makes a difference and makes you happy, or whatever it is that's for you, your life becomes rich and full and busy.

And there's not so much room left to choose your own direction, without throwing away the direction you've already chosen and still like. And not so much room to decide and express who you are, unless you feel the need to change who you are every year or two like a new wardrobe, and then it's not who you are anyway.

So there you are, having made the commitments you still feel are the right ones, chosen a direction you still like, expressed who you really feel, and still feel, that you are, but a little childish part of you would still throw it all away just so that you could start again from a clean slate and have all that freedom again. Even if you'd make all the same choices again and you still like all the choices you made, you don't feel as free while you live them out as you did while you were choosing them.

So that's what I mean. I don't mean freedom is bad, it's lovely. But it can go too far; if you're in love with feeling free, you can't commit to anything - a person, a career, an expression of who you are - because commitment makes you less free. You'll never feel as free as when you had nothing.

I'm more "free" now than I've been in a long time, and I'm here to tell you that it sucks. I liked having someone to commit to, I liked having a reason to wake up in the morning. Are there burdens that come with giving up one's solitary journey through life? Of course there are. But those burdens are nothing compared to the realization that living for yourself -- and only yourself -- does no good for anyone or anything else. It's about as unsatisfactory as cooking a gourmet meal for myself. Sure, there's a certain satisfaction in a job well done, but I don't want to have to look in a mirror just to see someone appreciate the food.

Sometimes, you just need an internet comic to do the talking for you...

2009-03-25T16:34:43Z

Down, not across...

2009-03-18T21:38:19Z

So, as if I didn't have enough reasons lately for people to think I'm going to go off the deep end and turn into some emo cutter, now there's this:

You can thank Bob Dole for that. It's not his fault, of course. He was trying to get from the window sill to my lap, landed on my arm and slid off, hanging on by one claw. Klutzy cat is klutzy. He's so terribly cute, though, that I couldn't help but forgive him after I stopped the bleeding and mopped up the blood.

Sweet home, Chicago...

2007-07-23T01:24:00Z

Thanks to some lovely delays on the Piccadilly line (read: it took me two hours to make a thirty minute trip), I ended up missing my LHR->LAX flight. If my pain had ended there, this would be a much shorter journal entry but, sadly, the gods of intercontinental travel have forsaken me.

I got rescheduled on an LHR->ORD->LAX route, and away I went. When I hit ORD, I was randomly selected by TSA to miss my connecting flight. So, another ticket shuffle, another terminal change, a run to another gate, and I was on my way to LAX. All good, right? Hah. I rocked up to LAX, made another mad dash for another terminal, only to discover I'd missed boarding my LAX->MEL flight. By ten minutes. I've now spent 18 of my 24 hour layover in LA, waiting for the next flight to MEL, and I can safely say there isn't a place on earth I despise more than this airport right now.

"But Adam, what about your subject line? It doesn't seem to relate!" Well, glad you asked, random Livejournal reader. Glad you asked. When I hit customs in ORD, they did the usual where are you from, where are you going, and all that jazz. It was noted that I was Canadian, but an Australian resident, the usual "what took you to Australia" ensued, explanations about the most beautiful woman to ever walk the earth and an overwhelming urge to eat Koala meat were proffered. He said that he could think of worse places to end up, and I mentioned that I rather missed snow. The last words he said to me were, "Snow is overrated. Also, welcome home."

Now, this almost brought a tear to my eye. The last time I flew to Canada, I was an Australian resident flying in to Montreal on business. I got the foreigner treatment ("where are you from, how long are you staying, what's the purpose of your visit?") and it really stung. Not a single mention of home, not a cursory nod in the direction of my citizenship. It felt worse when I got back to Australia, and was treated like a foreigner there as well. I felt homeless. Unwanted. And now, here I was, nearly two years later, and an American was welcoming me "home". It felt nice. Really nice. I'm not sure I can explain why. Maybe Americans don't quite deserve the bad rap they get. That one certainly made my day. Thank you, Chicago.

Perfection...

2007-01-02T15:54:15Z

New Year's Eve was perfect. I don't want to sully it by speaking of it any further than that, really. It was perfect. Period.

I travel too much...

2006-11-19T16:46:55Z

Happy birthday, Zofia. Stuck in Auckland for hours, all I have to do is pay for wireless to post to livejournal, to wish you a happy birthday. I'll be there soon, I promise.

I've been falling in love with you since that fateful Valentine's Day years ago, Zofia, and I've learned to love you more each day, even (or sometimes especially) on the "bad" days.

You are everything to me, and you always will be. I hope that I can make your birthday what you deserve, and I hope to be able to celebrate dozens more with you over the years.

Neanderthal no more...

2006-10-06T11:32:09Z

In a fit of madness, I waxed my eyebrow last night. For the first time in my life, I now have two eyebrows. I'm not sure if this is a good or bad thing, though Zofia claims it looks good. Given that I did it for her, I suppose I'll just have to believe her.

A rare, mint snow globe...

2005-12-20T01:52:20Z

My ~~strange~~ good friend Joe sent me his band's latest CD in exchange for hosting their website for the last 34 years. This time (probably because I complained last time... <laugh>), they even remembered to sign it.

Things to note: Jewel cases don't survive international mail AT ALL (but the inserts are fine, so I can get another jewel case for 10 cents and swap it out)

Now, I will sit here patiently and wait for Leave to become bigger than Elvis, so I can sell this signed CD on eBay and retire. Thanks in advance, Joe, for making all my dreams of financial security and swimming pools filled with lime Jell-O come true.

(I'll also listen to it, but I just woke up and checked the mail, so I'm not in my prime "listening to new music" space yet)

Another goth moment...

2005-12-08T08:38:06Z

Blah blah, filled with bile and hate, blah blah, wish I was dead, blah blah, going to go try to sleep it off, blah blah...

Fuck.

All you need is love... And cheese...

2005-11-20T17:50:55Z

If there's a special someone in your life and you're too retarded to show them how much you care about them, this is a public service announcement: Do something nice for them; give them a big cuddle; tell them just how much they mean to you.

Or else.

I love being Canadian...

2005-11-16T06:23:33Z

Eating french toast smothered in maple syrup, two days in a row: About 20 AUD.
Maple-scented bowel movements: Priceless.

I can't believe they let me in...

2005-10-06T07:07:30Z

Yesterday, the Australian government, in all their glorious wisdom, decided to grant me a temporary residence visa, which will be re-evaluated in 2 years for a permanent residence visa. That's right, I can work and get medicare, and leave and re-enter the country without fear of deportation or detainment! Go me!

What this really means is that Zofia is now stuck with me. Hopefully, she thinks this is a good thing. I do.

Deep thoughts...

2005-09-23T10:45:12Z

So, you know when you've showered, and you've given your bum a good scrubbing -- so good, in fact, that you believe for a fleeting moment than no bum in the history of man has even been as clean as your bum is right now -- and you step out of the shower only to realise that you desperately need to take a shit?

Yeah. That's the most irritating thing EVAR.

Laughter really IS the best medicine...

2005-05-03T03:46:08Z

RUBBER MITTEN BACK SLUT SPRAY

Modern liberalism is a joke...

2004-10-16T07:53:42Z

I can't stand "liberals". And by "liberals", I mean people who use liberalism (or the lack thereof) as an excuse to do and get exactly what they want, when they want it.

More and more, I hear such coherent arguments as "the thing I do upsets you because you're not liberal enough to be accepting of me and, furthermore, I can criticise everything YOU do because you're clearly an evil conservative fuck." These arguments begin to look even more ludicrous when one is faced with situations where "the thing I do" and "the thing YOU do" are exactly the same thing, but I'm expected to be accepting of the "liberal" doing said thing, while they're given carte blanche (apparently, due to my being "conservative") to have a hissy fit about me doing it.

Pots living in glass houses shouldn't paint rocks black and throw them at kettles. Or something.

sqrt(729)

2004-09-19T13:44:15Z

God, I feel old. Now that I have THAT out of the way, let me tell you that I had the most fantabulous fucking birthday EVER. That I'm writing this three days after my birthday (and four days after Zofia kicked off the celebrations) should be a pretty fair indication of just how bloody marvellous it was.

Pros:

Wonderful, loving girlfriend

Beautiful, tranquil resort hotel

Fantastic food

Good stuff

Naughty stuff

Fun stuff

Happy stuff

A bit of excess

Wonderful, loving girlfriend

Cons:

No turtles

Now, I don't want to belittle the previous birthday attempts of well-meaning friends who tried to make me feel warm and fuzzy, but despite the lack of turtles, I've never felt so happy for so long (like, whole days in a row... oooo) as I have these past few days.

Thankyou, Zofia.

Busy as a...

2004-08-23T06:17:49Z

So, for the last week or more, I've been firmly ensconced in my own little world, trying to fix things up in Debian (or, at least, the things I care about) before our next major release. Some of these changes have been productive, and others certainly have not. One thing that's certain, however, is that apart from some fun we had a few days ago with a fence and a camera, I've been spending far too little time with Zofia. This is, quite obviously, something I need to remedy. This week is hers. I don't care what "emergencies" come up.

Man, it would be so cool if we were good enough at genetic engineering to make emergency replacements of people when we needed them.

I work with prudes...

2004-06-03T04:07:37Z

It's amazing how many people in the office will blush when you use the phrase "full-on, penetrative anal."

Gee, who would have guessed?...

2004-04-24T02:56:12Z

I'm depressed. Not down, not slightly miffed, but full on crying-every-day, can't-get-out-of-bed, wish-I-was-dead depressed.

I've been angry and snapping at Zofia more and more. Some of the things (well, to be honest, only one of the things) I'm upset about, I feel fully justified with. And even that would be something I could deal with in a much saner and mature fashion if I was thinking even close to clearly. Everything else, however, I have no idea what I'm thinking. I love her to bits and I'd be lost without her, but I can't tell her THAT. No, instead I have to be an ass. It doesn't make me feel any better, and it doesn't make her feel any better, but I'm falling into a rut.

She took me to the doctor the other day. As of two days ago, I'm now on Lovan (a fluoxetine generic, aka: Prozac). I'm hoping the shit kicks in before I go and completely fuck up the one thing I think my future would be worthless without.

Zofia, thank you for loving me and trying to take care of me. I'm sorry I've been such an ass. I'm sorry you have to see me like this. I'm sorry you have to see me cry.

Just for Tremaine...

2004-04-15T11:28:23Z

For those of you who, no doubt, have a burning desire to know if I treat everyone equally when they ask for help, behold your proof.

That is all.

(Okay, I lie. I'm not equal or fair in the least. I tend to be even harsher with people I know, as I hold them to a much higher standard than complete strangers. No, seriously. Ask Tremaine.)

Part 2...

2004-04-07T11:36:21Z

MY VISA WAS APPROVED, MY VISA WAS APPROVED!

Of course, I'm still waiting on the official letter in the mail, so I can wander down to the immigration office and get my passport updated, but my case officer in Brisbane was kind enough to tell me that she approved my visa and mailed off the info "a while ago".

Now, I curse the Australian postal service while I wait for the letter to EFFIN GET HERE ALREADY. <cough>