Where'd ya go CD?

MIA -noun
[ěm'ī-ā']
1. A member of the armed services who is reported missing following a combat mission and whose status as to injury, capture, or death is unknown

So I've been away for some time, neglecting this poor blog, for that I do apologize to both you Dear Reader and to you poor blog.

So lets play some catch up shall we?

Around mid April I was given notice that my contract would be ending on May 31st, it's been two whole weeks now that I've been underemployed, and a whole month since I have gotten a pay cheque. For a guy that unfortunately lives hand to mouth, this friends is not a good situation to be in. On the plus side I have managed to get a couple of writing jobs and am still slowly working on my Freelance Writer website.

On May 1st I headed back to Golden BC for a few weeks to visit with the most amazing girl. It was a bittersweet visit however, as I do not think I will ever get a chance to see her again.

After that I came back to Capital City for a week, then headed off to the Muskoka's to hang out at a cottage and clear my mind. I did some visiting back in Hometown and returned once again to Capital City. In my downtime, while looking for some means of gainful employment I put together a little blog network, which I have called My Big List Of Blogs. I'm not sure what I am going to do with it, but hopefully I'll get a little traffic and gain some much needed income with this pet project of mine.

So where does Chasing Distractions go from here?

I should be putting my efforts into finding some work, getting my life back together, but my ever-muddled mind still has the urge to chase distractions. Lately I've been focusing that energy on entering contests, you all know how I love winning stuff. Yesterday I won a ride in the Bluesfest limo, got treated to a Subway lunch and was handed 4 day passes for the festival. Today I put my efforts into winning some NXNE passes, but sadly I didn't win. But never fear Dear Reader, this story does have a happy ending, fellow CBC Radio3 blogger MoniSki graciously offered me one of her own NXNE passes. How awesome is that?

On Thursday morning I plan on taking what little funds I have, jumping into my Granpa mobile and heading down to the Big Smoke for one last weekend of music and excitement. Maybe I'll even run into The Details again.

Oh speaking of The Details, in an old post I mentioned testing out recording audio with my digital handheld recorder, it worked and the quality was much better. So I'll leave you with a video from that show back in March.




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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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Californication – The Television Show

hon⋅ey⋅pot –noun
[huhn-ee-pot]
1. a pot, as of glass or silver, for storing and serving honey

Craig Stephens' honey bear #2
The last few days I’ve been recouping from the 31st birthday celebrations that recently occurred in Montreal in la bell province. It’s not that I drank too much and am getting old – even though the latter is the case, also the former – but it is more to the fact that I caught a cold, or possibly the flu while I was away. The flu du cochon as I have been dubbing it. But as per usually I digress…

While I was wasting away in bed trying to overcome this sickness that still rides me like some demented jockey from hell, I received a text message from a good friend of mine. To paraphrase:

’Is it weird that David Duchovny in Californication makes me think of you?’

I, crazy with sickness, thought she was talking about Kalifornia and had to immediately watch the movie. I had no idea what she was talking about, ’I think it's his voice and phrasing, No wait... it's also his smirky, shruggy, mannerisms‘. As it would later turn out she was actually talking about the television show Californication, where coincidentally enough Duchovny plays a writer in both that TV show and the movie Kalifornia.

After sitting in my sick bed, missing a day of class and three days of work, I have to honestly say Californication is one hell of a television show. A new distraction to chase, and you all know how I love chasing distractions. I would have to recommend this show to anyone who likes smart, sexy, funny, hot television. Duchovny stars as Hank Moody, a drug and sex addicted writer juggling a 12-year-old daughter, an ex-wife whom he still cares for, and an insatiable appetite for beautiful women. Maybe my friend is right, that kinda sounds like me right?

In case you are wondering about the honeypot reference in this post, well I think the Urban Dictionary’s definition of honeypot would be more suited.

Speaking of honey, I learned something new today about our sweet treat. I went to the store to get some honey, ginger, lemon and tea to help battle this cold of mine and for the first time noticed that the bottle has the following warning: “Do not feed honey to children under 1 year of age”.

What the…?

But it's true, honey can actually cause botulism in infants.

On that note VALE! (just practising my Latin)



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Barney’s Version – The Novel

ur⋅ban leg⋅end –noun
[ur-buhn lej-uhnd]
1. a modern story of obscure origin and with little or no supporting evidence that spreads spontaneously in varying forms and often has elements of humour, moralizing, or horror
A few weeks ago I finished reading a humorous, yet somewhat sad tale called Barney’s Version, written by Canadian author Mordeecai Richler.

In a response to a book of memoirs, written by his sworn enemy Terry McIver, protagonist Barney Panofsky decides to give the true version of his life, as McIver’s memoirs paint Panofsky in a very bad light. Panofsky, an old man, recants his time spent in Paris as a young man, how he became a widow, divorced twice, the father of three children, a television producer in Quebec and the suspected murderer of his best friend. Throughout the novel the reoccurring themes are dealing with loss, with guilt, loneliness and the ability a person has to rewrite their memories as to make them more bearable.

The moment I read the last word I scribbled down this note:

Barney’s Version makes me flash forward on my own life, I don’t want to grow old alone

To date I continue my ever-lasting battle with loneliness and each day that goes by I get a little older and a little more certain that this funk is here to stay. In just six short days I will be the ripe old age of 31 and since I started writing this blog nothing has changed for me. I’m still alone. I’m still broke. And I’m still…

Next on the list Tropic of Cancer by Henry Miller.



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The Trouble With Twitter

lone⋅ly –adjective
[lohn-lee]
1. affected with, characterized by, or causing a depressing feeling of being alone; lonesome.

I was encouraged by my boss to open a Twitter account last year. If you don’t know what Twitter is let me explain.

Twitter is essentially a micro-blogging social network that allows you to post updates of only 140 characters. My boss thought by having a Twitter account it would help with marketing for our clients. Potential partners would easily be able to confirm I am a real person and not some link spammer from India.

Being a regular user of Facebook, Twitter was easy to get the hang of. Essentially your ‘tweets’ are the same as your Facebook status updates.

However the major difference I found between Facebook and Twitter is this – on Facebook my contacts are actual people I know, friends, old highschool pals, acquaintances and even previous one-night stands. On Twitter however my contacts are complete strangers, excluding of course the few people I actually know, like MwiStar from The African Accent.

At first I would update my Twitter account with all the nonsense stuff I was doing in the day along with posting links to some of my marketing contacts. That was until I watched this episode of SuperNews!Now I just can’t do it anymore. I feel ridiculous, and have to laugh at some of my contacts personal updates. I keep thinking ‘None of you have any friends!’.



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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 7-Minute Morning Workout

ex⋅er⋅cise  –noun
[ek-ser-sahyz]
1. bodily or mental exertion, esp. for the sake of training or improvement of health

A friend of mine shared this 7-minute workout with me the other day. It may not seem like a big deal, 7-minutes is not a long time, but after three days of doing this I can already feel it. And let me tell you these 7-minutes are hard, really hard.



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NxNE – Day 4

missed out –verb
[mis]
1. to fail to take advantage of
I awoke feeling a little rough so decided to take advantage of the late checkout and sleep in. Unfortunately I slept in too long and wasn’t able to use the pool, sauna, fitness centre or waters slide… not that I would really have done all that, but the sauna might have helped the hangover a bit.

After checking out I decided to head back to my cousin’s apartment for a little more rest. I passed The Details on my way to the subway station and they invited me to the Six Shooter BBQ. I asked them to call me once they confirmed I was able to get in for sure because the BBQ was all the way down by the beaches and I didn’t want to go to just be turned away. Plus it was raining. And did I mention I was hung over? In the end I never ended up going. I needed to rest up for the Boat Cruise.

Since I was in town I got in contact with The African Accent and tried to coax him out. He declined the night before, but was a maybe for the festivities for the Boat Cruise, where there was to be DJ’s, bands and as the fuzzy picture shows, nude painted models. He never showed and definitely missed out.

After the boat cruise I was planning on going to The Horseshoe to thank Grant Lawrence personally for the passes, but the cruise was so good hic I never made it.



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NxNE – Day 3

fate –noun
[feyt]
1. the universal principle or ultimate agency by which the order of things is presumably prescribed
The day started off slow, I had a bit of writing to catch up on so I didn't end up going out until the late afternoon. I decided I was going to give my cousin and his wife a break and rented a room downtown at the Delta Chelsea. They set me up on the 15th floor with a view of Yonge Street. I could almost make out the stage set up at Yonge Dundas Square, so after I settled in I strolled down to catch Black Hat Brigade’s set.

After some dinner and a shower I was ready to see a show that I was really looking forward to, Coeur de Pirate. Apparently I wasn’t the only one as I arrived at the Dakota Tavern the line-up was already around the block. The doorman told me that they were overcapacity and it was now a case of one-in-one-out. Later I would find that this was not true and in fact it was another case of the industry guest list ruining it for the rest of the fans. In fact I have a credible source that says not only was the Dakota way below capacity, but Coeur de Pirate’s manager had to come out and ask why they were not letting anyone in. The answer – industry guest list first.

Feeling dejected, again, for having my beginning of the night ruined by NxNE’s industry guest list policy I was at a loss of where to go next. I almost planned to work my way up to College street to see some of the 9pm concerts before making my way back to Yonge Dundas Square for the Wintersleep show, but at last minute decided to cross the street to The Painted Lady to enjoy a pint of Guinness and listen a few minutes of a PEI band by the name of Boxer The Horse. That decision proved fateful as the rest of the night could have been quite different if I decided to walk up to College Street.

Not wanting to miss any of the Wintersleep show I left The Painted Lady early and walked down Dundas Street in search of a streetcar that would take me to Yonge Dundas Square. I ran into a couple asking a man about the very streetcar I was looking for. I asked if they wanted to just split a cab, but the girl said she was really looking forward to experiencing a streetcar for the first time. As it turns out our NxNE experience was very similar. The girl, originally from Winnipeg, who I am dubbing Superfan Jenny, arrived from Ottawa on Wednesday, where she had been visiting her sister. We both had tried to get into the Coeur de Pirate show but were turned away and ended up going to The Painted Lady for a pint of Guinness. Amused by our coincidences I mentioned that I was staying at the Delta Chelsea, and of course they were as well. I said they had me on the 15th floor, they were on the 14th floor. It turned out that her boyfriend Jon is the front man for a band called The Details and they were performing at NxNE. I missed their show on Thursday by a matter of minutes when after Papa Groove I decided to take in a documentary, which I also missed. Furthermore, every show the night before we were all at the same venue, probably even standing right near each other.

We ended up taking in the Wintersleep show together and bought each other rounds of Mill Street Organic Drafts from the beer tent. Although Wintersleep put on a great show it paled in comparison of the new friendship we were forming. I met the rest of the band members from The Details after the show and we all headed down to the Drake Hotel to take in Halifax’s Ruby Jean and the Thoughtful Bees. Afterwards the band and Superfan Jenny called it a night and we planned to meet up the next day. I would see the band one more time in the morning, where they invited me to a party, which in the end I declined.

After I left the Drake Hotel I ended up at The Reverb and attempted to dance the night away to the sounds of the Parallels, 84.85 and Kenny Glasgow, but in the end the drink was too much for me and I headed back to my hotel room to pass out, alone, but happy for the experiences I had.

And that, Dear Reader, was my 3rd, and what would be my last, night at the North by Northeast festival in Toronto.



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NxNE – Day 2

ac⋅quaint –verb
[uh-kweynt]
1. to make more or less familiar, aware, or conversant
2. to bring into social contact; introduce

My cousin decided to blow off work and join me for a day at NxNE. I haven’t seen him in awhile and we were never really that close so it was a good chance to get to know him better.

We started the day out at the Hyatt Regency with Rah Rah, a pretty good band from Saskatchewan. Followed by Papa Groove, a very unique band from Montreal. During the Papa Groove show my cousin leaned over to me and said “They look like a bunch of tour buses crashed and these guys are the survivors.” And he is right. The lead singer resembles Lenny Cravitz, the bass player is a white guy with long dreadlocks sporting a cowboy hat, there was a 5-piece brass section, two guys on keyboards dressed as pimps, three drummers and I think one or two other guys on guitars. You really have to see it to believe it.

We rushed over to the National Film Board to check out a documentary but, still feeling the pints from the previous night, I misread the schedule. The documentary was being screened at the Hyatt Regency – the very place we just left. I begged off doing anything else for the rest of that afternoon and took a much-needed nap.

Feeling refreshed, we headed back out on the town. Our first stop was Lee’s Palace for the Outlaws and Gunslingers show. I ran into Amanda Putz and listened to The Swallows and a compilation of Jim Cuddy, Royal Wood and Oh Susanna. The line-up was a little too country for me so we jumped the streetcar to Queen St. West and just made it in time for The Burning Hell show at the Legendary Horseshoe Tavern, followed by The United Steelworkers of Montreal. Apparently the Horseshoe does not follow the maximum capacity requirements, so by the end of the Steelworkers show the place was jam-packed. Feeling slightly claustrophobic we left and ended the night off at the El Mocambo with You Say Party! We Say Die!, and die I did. Exhausted, I made it an early night and went back to my cousin’s place to rest up for the weekend.






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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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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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For All The Gossip Mongers

gos⋅sip –noun

[gos-uhp]

1. idle talk or rumor, esp. about the personal or private affairs of others

They say you cannot choose your family, but you can choose your friends. So when the friends you associate with start to exhibit qualities that you find despicable, do you put up with it or is it time to move on?

How old is too old to make new friends anyway?


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Relationship Addicts

be⋅tray⋅al –noun
[bi-trey-ul]
1. the act of being unfaithful in guarding, or fulfilling: a trust.
2. the act of disappointing the hopes of; being disloyal to: one's friends.

Everyone has someone in their life. Everyone craves someone in their life. More often than not people seek out others to give them purpose. To befriend. To care for and pay attention to. It happens all the time and it is due to loneliness. What everyone is seeking is companionship. And the moment something better comes along, or the moment your usefulness as a companion starts to waver, you are brushed to the side. Your days as a temporary distraction are over.

Everyone has this friend. The moment they are in a relationship you never hear from them again. And the second they are out of it you get a phone call or an email asking how everything is going. You once again become their temporary distraction until something better comes along.

These relationship addicts.

People like me enjoy our independence. We have embraced our loneliness. Sure we crave contact and companionship, we are human after all, we just don’t require it to survive.

You see these relationship addicts going through their withdrawal. These addicts who cannot stand to be alone with themselves. These addicts who seek out companionship the way a junkie looks for their next fix. You become their crutch for a short period of time until they can get their hands on what they need. And then you never hear from them again. They are off enjoying their high. But because they have no control, because they cannot stand to be alone by themselves, the high does not last long. You see them start to come down. The arguments start. The fighting begins. The break-up ensues…

And then there they are again, looking for companionship.

Looking for you.

Looking for their temporary distraction.


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