Chasing Distractions Turns 1!

birth⋅day –noun
[burth-dey]
1. a day marking or commemorating the origin, founding, or beginning of something

Well it is official, I have been writing this blog for over a year now, off and on of course. The year began off on a bad note; I was suffering from a case of depression or some sort of quarter/mid-life crisis. I had just turned 30, broke up with my girlfriend, cut myself off from friends and family and suffered from a bad case of insomnia. It took awhile but I clawed myself back from the brink with the help of many distractions.

Now a year later I’m not sure much has changed. I’m still lonely, I’m still broke, but I have learned something from this all, and that is I get everything I ever want. And I mean everything. All I have to do is ask for it and the universe provides, from careers, to friends to girls to trips and prizes and all the highs and lows that come with it all. I have asked for all of it. The question then remains, why I am I still unhappy sometimes?

Originally I set out to write this post explaining that this blog had a good run, but I’m generally happy now and I have nothing to complain about anymore. Because really, that’s what blogging is all about right? Complaining?

I don't know, maybe I'll just stick around for a little longer.

If you’d like to give Chasing Distractions a birthday present, why not leave some comments, promote my Help Me Volunteer At The Olympics post, or simply donate to my ‘Get Me To The Olympics’ fund.



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Gray Days Make Me Feel Blue

im⋅pul⋅sive –adjective
[im-puhl-siv]
1. actuated or swayed by emotional or involuntary impulses
These overcast gray days always make me feel blue. I can’t help but look at my life on these days and feel sorry for myself. I guess I need more vitamin D.

Speaking of gray, the other day I found not one, but three gray hairs. It’s a sad state of affairs when you realize you are getting old and there is nothing you can do about it…

It is these type of days I mourn for my wasted life – being broke, lonely, and growing older by the minute I decided to give online dating one more shot.

This time things went well. Maybe it was luck of the draw, my slimmed down profile, or new profile picture, who knows, but I received many more contacts than I did before, from people that actually seemed pretty decent too.

I started a 2-week long correspondence via email with one of the people I connected with and a few days ago we met up for a date. In my mind it went well. Great conversation and laughs, I felt I was just charming enough and that there was some chemistry between us, but in the end I was wrong.

Maybe I blew the ending by not sealing the deal with a goodnight kiss, I didn’t want to be presumptuous, I am a gentleman after all. Or it could have been the text messages I sent not 10 minutes after the date stating what a good time I had. It might also have had something to do with me adding her to Facebook the next day, (she never did accept my friend request) whatever it was I never heard from her again.

What can I say, I’m impulsive, and in her I saw everything I wanted in a relationship. Came on too strong, or just not right for the dating world?

Whatever it is I better figure it out soon because I’m getting tired of doing everything alone and pretending to myself that everything is going to be okay. It’s exhausting.



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The Problem With Plenty Of Fish

damaged goods –noun
[dam-ij-d goo-ds]
1. a person who is impaired, corrupted, or defiled

A few months ago at a dinner party the topic of Internet dating came up, specifically two sites Plenty of Fish, a free dating site apparently run by one guy out of his Vancouver apartment, and a paid site called eHarmony.ca, developed by Dr. Neil Clark Warren. Two of my friends were trying out both of the sites, without any success. The complaint with eHarmoy.ca, besides the monthly fee, was the amount of time it took to actually get a chance to speak with someone. With Plenty of Fish, although it was free, the quality of potential mates was not really there. Although these two friends were not happy with the results, they kept their accounts going for well over 2 months.

I have always been a big proponent against Internet dating. When asked why, my only real argument was that it was too easy. Finding someone should not be like going through a catalogue and ordering merchandise. There is no thrill, no butterflies, and no spark. These were just assumptions on my part, so ever being curious and constantly Chasing Distractions, I decided to test out the world of online dating.

Being in the perpetual state of 'brokeness' I opted for the free dating site and created a profile on Plenty of Fish. Within the first few days I noticed something wrong with the potential mates on the site. No one seemed to respond to any of my emails. After changing tactics and slimming down my original contact I started to receive responses. After building what I assumed was an appropriate time on back and forth communication I attempted to plan ‘dates’, a time a place to meet someone for a drink or a coffee. It was at this point where everyone backed off. Excuses were made, or strange requests such as they would only agree to a date if I could lend them money first.
It may be hard to get the sense of someones personality through email and instant messages, but one thing that does stick out is when people are not right in some way. Now I know at this point if you have been reading my blog that last statement is ‘like the pot calling the kettle black’, but it is true. In my opinion, Plenty of Fish seems to deal in damaged goods.
Or it could just be that I am the one that is damaged goods... nah, that can't be right.
Maybe I should finally take down this ‘motivational' poster my ex-girlfriend gave me:




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The Math Behind Getting Ahead

e⋅qua⋅tion –noun
[i-kwey-zhuhn,-shuhn]
1. the act of equating or making equal

When it comes to emails I normally I don’t like getting forwards. The vast majority of them come from family members and usually I just delete them. Every once in awhile a good one sneaks through, so I thought I would share this one that I recently received from my Uncle:

What Makes 100%? What does it mean to give MORE than 100%? Ever wonder about those people who say they are giving more than 100%? We have all been to those meetings where someone wants you to give over 100%. How about achieving 103%? What makes up 100% in life?

Here's a little mathematical formula that might help you answer these questions:

If:
A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z

is represented as:
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26.

Then:

H-A-R-D-W-O-R-K
8+1+18+4+23+15+18+11 = 98%

and

K-N-O-W-L-E-D-G-E
11+14+15+23+12+5+4+7+5
= 96%

But ,
A-T-T-I-T-U-D-E
1+20+20+9+20+21+4+5 = 100%

And,

B-U-L-L-S-H-I-T
2+21+12+12+19+8+9+20 = 103%

AND, look how far ass kissing will take you.

A-S-S-K-I-S-S-I-N-G
1+19+19+11+9+19+19+9+14+7
= 118%

So, one can conclude with mathematical certainty, that while Hard work and Knowledge will get you close, and Attitude will get you there, it's the Bullshit and Ass kissing that will put you over the top.

I thought I would do a couple of my own:

S-E-X
19+5+24
= 48%

L-O-V-E
12+15+22+5
= 54%

R-E-L-A-T-I-O-N-S-H-I-P
18+5+12+1+20+9+15+14+19+8+9+17
= 147%

As you can see it takes a considerable amount of effort to be in a relationship. Basically you have to give it your all and then some to keep it going, a total of 147% everyday. On the other side it’s relatively easy to fall in or make someone fall in love with you, it only takes 54% effort on your part. The easiest of all is to have sex. It only takes 48% effort to ‘get some’; I clearly have been trying way too hard.



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The Big Boy Bed

sin⋅gle bed –noun
[sing-guhl bed]
1. a bed for one occupant

Since I was about 19 years old I have been rocking the single bed – in fact it is the same bed I had in college – my grandparents bought it for me in my second year when I moved into an apartment. For 11 years I’ve slept on this narrow bed, which as of late has grown uncomfortable with its springs that have now become sprung. Yet, financial issues aside, I can’t bring myself to upgrade just yet. It’s not a form of nostalgic attachment to some lost love, or a gift from my grandparents. It just seems to suit me, single bed, single me.

I’ve taken quite the ribbing from many people when they find out that I still have a single bed. Friends usually shake their head and tell me it’s time for me to buy a ‘Big Boy Bed’ or ask “How can you even bring a girl home?” or some variation of that question. Although sleeping can sometimes be difficult, I like the closeness my single bed affords, and the limited space has also been know to inspire creativity wink-wink, nudge-nudge.

Besides, I take solace in knowing that there was probably only one other guy in the whole world that didn't mind having a single bed:

”I wanna love you every day and every night:
We'll be together with a roof right over our heads;
We'll share the shelter of my single bed; “



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Foot In Mouth Disease

blun⋅der –verb
[bluhn-der]
1. to make a gross or stupid mistake, esp. through carelessness or mental confusion

"You can't even open your mouth without putting your foot in it."
I recently went on a first date – it was my first first date in a very long time, so I was a little out of practice. My last few relationships I completely bypassed the uncomfortable dating portion and got right to the fun stuff, which could very well have been my downfall. Here are four samples of the conversation on my recent date:

Me: “So, are you originally from Capital City? Do you have family here?”
Her: “Yes I am, in fact that is why I moved back, my Dad is very sick…”
Me: “Oh…?”
Her: “Yeah he has cancer and is on chemo right now.”
Me (thinking): ‘Looks like I won’t go out for that smoke’

Me: “Do you have any siblings?”
Her: “Yeah, well I did. I had a younger brother who died a few years ago,”
Me: “I’m sorry…”

Me (speaking about driving long distances): “It was such a long drive, and I was exhausted. I got to the point where I was like hallucinating and struggling to stay awake. So I was going to get a motel for the night and realized I was only 50km from Capital City, so I kept going.”
Her: “I’m the same way on long drives, so I try to break them up so it doesn’t happen to me. I should know better you know, after all my brother did die in a car accident.”
Me (thinking): ‘Of course he did.’

Me (speaking about getting older): “I found my 30th birthday was really hard to except. I was at my Nana’s and when they brought the cake out with that flaming 3-0 on it I thought ‘If I blow these out it makes it real’.”
Her: “I didn’t find 30 that bad. 25 was the big one for me.”
Me: “Really?”
Her: “Yeah, 25 was definitely the hardest one.”
Me: “That’s funny, a friend of mine always reminds me that when I was younger I used to say by the time you’re 25 you are pretty much dead anyway.”
Her: “Yeah, my brother died when he was 24.”
Me (thinking): ‘Of course he did, of course he did’

I guess first dates are like interviews. The more you have, the better you get at them. I’ll just have to see a doctor about this case of Foot In Mouth Disease I have.

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Life Can Sometimes Be Exhausting

mel⋅an⋅chol⋅y –noun
[mel-uhn-kol-ee]
1. a gloomy state of mind, esp. when habitual or prolonged; depression
2. sober thoughtfulness; pensiveness

Like many stories in my life, today’s reflection involves a girl; well in fact it is a build up of a series of events, all of which involve a girl. Without getting into all of the events in this post, as I hope to share the stories at a later date, today I have discovered one thing about myself – I love to be loved.

I am beginning to think that the many years I have spent alone have not been good for me. As David Leavitt writes in his story ‘Chips is Here’ from his collections of short stories ‘A Place I’ve Never Been’ his character remarks, “I am a pathetic and desperate man”.

I like the idea of someone liking me, and without being able to control it I will fully pursue a relationship with that person, even if my better instinct or gut judgement tell me otherwise. This latest fiasco lasted a total of 11 days, from initial attraction to final realization of my true feelings – if anything I guess I am getting better at it.

Either way, life can sometimes be exhausting.



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How To Be Lame In Ottawa

bor⋅ing –adjective
[bawr-ing, bohr-]
1. causing or marked by boredom

Over the last three weeks I have had three different friends from Hometown come visit, staying from six days to a weekend. I’ve now been living in Capital City for just under five years and you don’t realize how lame your life can be until you have someone come visit and you are expected to be their tour guide. It’s at the point when you are thinking of what to do with your guest that you realize `Hey I don’t really do anything, I’m pretty lame`.

Last night, around dusk, to chase away the ghosts I went for a long walk, which ended up being around ten kilometres. I would normally cross over the Rideau River and head towards the Market and stroll around, but last night I decided to walk along the Rideau River path, something I have never done in all the `just under five years` that I have been living here. It was very peaceful, away from the bulk of the traffic, listening to the sounds of trickling water and songs of different types of birds. I even stumbled upon some sort of ceremonial aboriginal dance. I wanted to stop and have a look but felt like I would be intruding.

On my three hour walk around parts of Capital City that I was just discovering for the first time, I took some time to reflect on the last five years of my life, specifically here in Ottawa. Understanding my lameness, I realized I could sum up my whole experience here in ten occurrences or less. So here it goes:


The TopOnly Ten Things I Have Experienced In Ottawa

1. When I first moved to Capital City I was a driving instructor, in fact that is the reason I moved here, I was transferred. The job only lasted eight months before I was laid off, but if anything I got to learn the city streets pretty well and hopefully taught a handful of kids how to drive safely.
2. The first two weeks that I was living here I walked around downtown and in the Market alone, going to bars and pubs by myself to check out the nightlife. On my very first outing I met a girl, and proceeded to never call her again. I thought to myself `Wow, if it’s this easy to meet girls…` Don’t worry karma taught me a lesson, and I didn’t meet another girl for 8 months, around the same time I lost my job, where in quick succession I met three girls and they all returned the favour by never calling me again.
3. At this point, an ex-girlfriend came back into my life for a brief period of time. When she would come to visit we would do some tourist type activities. We took a boat tour of the Ottawa River, we saw the Pompeii exhibit at the Museum of Civilizations, and took a walking tour around Parliament. I also took the Parliament tour twice, once with my Uncle who works in Centre Block and the latest time when a Hometown friend came to visit for six days.
4. After being a retired driving instructor for a few months I soon accepted a contract to work with the Ottawa Chamber Music Society and got a chance hear a lot of really amazing live classical music in many of the churches around Capital City. I also met the Governor General of Canada, Michaëlle Jean at one event. It was my responsibility to send out the letter to ask her to take part in our Christmas concert, where we wanted her to narrate the story of the Nutcracker. It was this contract that inevitably led me to my current line of work.
5. After my contract was up I took a job with a popular courier company, worked part-time at a local pub and started my foray into the world of freelance writing. If you haven’t noticed yet, other than the occasional night out at the bars, and the brief time I spent as a tourist with an ex-girlfriend I haven’t really done much in the terms of seeing anything in Ottawa. The last five will be pretty short.
6. I’ve been zip lining – although it is on the Quebec side.
7. I’ve been to one Ottawa Senators hockey game.
8. I’ve been to a handful of indie rock concerts and two Bluesfest.
9. I’ve hiked Gatineau Park approximately five times, two of them being on the most recent visits from Hometown friends. Again on the Quebec side, so I’m not sure if it counts.
10. For two and half hours I went snowboarding at Camp Fortune… once.

That about sums up my past five years in Capital City, other than dining out at some really good (and some really bad) restaurants, spending numerous times in the pubs and clubs, and attending the occasional BBQ, house or cottage party, that’s about it.

This my friends, is How To Be Lame In Ottawa.






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Two Things I Have Recently Learned About Women

con⋅fuse –verb
[kuhn-fyooz]
1. to perplex or bewilder
2. to make unclear or indistinct
3. to fail to distinguish between
I wish I could say I came to the insight through my own trial and error, but not being very bright in the ways of the female mind, anything I have figured out through my own experiences is more than likely incorrect anyhow. This past weekend I learned two ‘truths’ about women, from women. They are as follows:

1) Never, ever, ask a woman her age.
Addenda
i) Asking a women’s age should only be done to girls in their early 20’s and below.
ii) You can get away with asking a server/waitress her age, regardless of how old she is, as they will answer to ensure their gratuity is above the standard 15%. They may however not tell you the truth.

2) No really does mean Yes.
Addenda
i) A No in regards to sex, really does mean No.
ii) Three No’s in a row however really does mean No as well.

Confused? I know I still am.



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A Complete History of My Sexual Failures – The Documentary

re⋅al⋅i⋅za⋅tion –noun
[ree-uh-luh-zey-shuhn]
1. the act of realizing or the state of being realized
2. an instance or result of realizing
After a rash of failures and too many late nights I decided to spend the afternoon in bed watching movies and generally feeling sorry for my hopelessness when it comes to the dating scene. Thankfully I found a kindred spirit in Chris Waitt and his documentary A Complete History of My Sexual Failures.

Of course the title immediately caught my eye, frankly how couldn’t it, and within 89 minutes I was given a view, of what could essentially be my life, into the life a love loser.

After his most recent break-up, Waitt goes on a quest to interview all his past girlfriends, of which, as he reports, they have all dumped him for one reason or another. Along the way he experiments with Viagara and S&M, trying to understand what’s wrong with himself, why he is flawed when it comes to relationships.

If you are failing in the dating game, this may not be a bad approach. Contact all your ex’s, well the ones that will talk to you anyway, and find out your flaws. Get some constructive criticism, and work on your weaknesses.
Or just keep making the same old mistakes.

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Not Into Head Games...

head games –noun
[hed gāms]
1. the act of deluding; deception by creating illusory ideas
Head games, we've all experienced them, either on the receiving end or the ones dolling them out. Why does one choose to play these head games rather than just say what is on their mind or just keeping their thoughts to themselves and leaving well enough alone? Who knows, besides a psychologist of course, but hey those cost money right?

I feel like sharing some reflection time so here I go. I once met the grandchild of a neighbour of mine. Now you might be thinking Grandchild!, but before I continue the story let me assure you that my neighbour is a 97 year old woman, and her grandchild is really an adult in their 30's.

Back to the grandchild, we met by happenstance; we exchanged phone numbers and email addresses. We talked, texted and instant messaged one another for about a week’s time. We planned to meet on a weekend, plans were changed, cancelled, and then changed again. Or first real date was an early weekend morning, what some kids these days are calling a booty call.

Alcohol fuelled decisions are never a wise choice.

The early morning weekend date was over at dawn, we parted ways with the intention to see each other soon. This is when the head games began. For the next 48 hours I was barraged with a roller coaster of emotions, text after text, after crazy text.

“I don’t think I really like you...”
“I’m sorry for what I said…”
“I never want to hear from you again…”
“I want to see you right now…”
“You will never have to hear from me again!”

Just 48 short hours later my neighbour’s grandchild was quickly sliding below the line on the Hot Crazy Scale. Starting out well above the line, one potentially wrong alcohol fuelled booty call and 48 hours later, well the following graph can explain it better:

Moral of the story – well I guess there are two:

1) If you have something on your mind, or feel guilty about a decision you made, just say it or keep it to yourself. Either way head games are not they way to go.
2) Unless you are emotionally ready for it, alcohol fuelled early morning dates (booty calls) are probably not a good idea.

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Universal Humour

co⋅in⋅ci⋅dence –noun
[koh-in-si-duhns]
1. a striking occurrence of two or more events at one time apparently by mere chance

“A coincidence is a small miracle in which God chooses to remain anonymous.”

Almost everyone has experienced that period of time after a serious relationship where they have been ‘intimate’ with their ex-partner. The time limit for post break-up tumbles can last from a number of hours to a number of months. I’m sure many people have their limits when it comes to the length of time, for myself I’ve run the gambit from just a few short minutes to over a year and a half, and everything in-between.

It may be easier when it happens to a friend, but have you ever noticed how sometimes the rebound, or the next relationship, resembles the previous one? I’m sure it is completely a psychological thing, especially for the loser of the break-up, but it is something you can never really see happening to yourself. Love is blind after all, even if said love is just of the rebound one-night tumble variety.

Coincidence, providence, fate, karma, whatever it is that is powering the universal gears I am sure it has a sense of humour. Each and every time I have gone through the pain of a break-up, sometimes as the victor, many more times as the loser, there has always been a comical situation involved with my triumphant return to the dating world.

One of my past relationships didn’t end so well, actually none of them really do, but this one in particular was not a very good ending. There are two main ways that one reacts to a break-up:

1) Sitting home feeling sorry for themselves
2) Falling into self-destructo mode

Number one is self explanatory, but number two may need some explanation. Self-destructo mode can be easily recognized in a newly single friend by the excessive drinking, smoking and partying that they participate in. It may even result in numerous rebound one-night tumbles. If you are the one that is newly single ask yourself the following questions:

- Do you wake up on a Wednesday morning still buzzing from the night before?
- Does you mouth taste like you swallowed an ashtray?
- Do you have to search for the wallet/purse of the unknown person that is sleeping in your bed just to find out their name?

If you answered Yes to at least one of these questions you may be suffering from a case of self-destructo mode.

Anyway, I digress, back to me. The universe is a funny place and I was suffering from a raging case of self-desructo mode. The humorous moment that comes to mind was at an annual party where I met someone, well I very briefly met them anyway, and somehow ended up alone with them at the end of the night. This was to be my first physical experience with someone since the break-up, and as it turned out it was a mutual occurrence. We shared more in common then just crawling out of the dark pit of a recent break-up; turns out our ex-partners had the same names as we did. Here I was trying to forget about _______ through excessive drinking and partying and then I end up meeting someone with the exact same name, who coincidently enough broke-up with someone that had the exact same name as me…

The universe is a funny place I tell you.

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The Lemon Law

blind date –noun
[blahynd deyt]
1. a social appointment or date arranged, usually by a third person, between two people who have not met

Lemon, by Jeff Hayes

Last night I was at a dinner party for a friend’s birthday, one of the gifts he received was a book called The Bro Code. I picked it up and read a couple of pages, hilarious, just laugh out loud funny. I was then told the whole book concept came from a show called How I Met Your Mother, I of course had to go to my favourite free streaming site and watch an episode, which led to two, three… ten. Well you get the picture; I now have a new Distraction (compulsion) to keep me occupied for the next few months.

One of the earlier episodes that I just watched for the first time involved the Lemon Law. Essentially this is your get out of jail free when meeting someone for the first time on a blind date. Such a great idea, especially for those of you who are involved in the whole Internet dating fiasco, you know who you are.

The Lemon Law may be invoked if, at any point during the initial five minutes (300 seconds) of a first date, either party deems the union hopeless and elects to abort said date in the interest of time and/or self-respect. Receipt of this card hereby absolves the Giver from any "Hard feelings" or "Questions" from the Lemon Lawyee relevant to the discontinuance of the date, which may be terminated for any reason including, but not limited to: tawdry attire, breath, homeliness, misplaced/excessive body hair, Long Island accent, public school education, bad credit, no credit, suspicious odor(s).

"Lemon Law" Cards

Addenda
i) Giver may waive the Lemon Law should Lemon Lawyee immediately consent to a no-strings attached "Stand" duration of which shall be no longer that one (1) night.
(ii) The terms of this agreement are non exclusively transferable, in deference to the emergence of the Lemon Law as a "Thing."
(iii) In the unlikely event of a simultaneous invocation, parties shall exact one (1) "High Five" with neither party officially assuming credit for the Lemon Law issuance.

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The Dating Game

dat⋅ing –noun
[deyt-ing]
1. a social engagement arranged beforehand with another person
2. a person with whom one has such a social engagement
3. to go out socially on dates
4. to make a date with; go out on dates with

The Chase

I find there is this cruel circle of fate(?) or karma(?) when it comes to dating, or just the very act of being interested in someone. It seems in life there is always a person being chased and that person is also chasing at the same time. If people just stopped and looked over their shoulder once in awhile they might find what they have always been looking for. But not everybody mind you (looking over their shoulder that is) or the chase would just end up going in the opposite direction. So maybe every other person should look over their shoulder. Ya that's it, every other person.

My advice: Strive to be that other person.



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