Friday, June 12, 2009

Mouse Squeaks

I haven't posted in here nowhere near as much I used to. I guess I've gotten lazy. Either that or I've started to feel that posting here is equivalent to keeping your thoughts to yourself. But I kinda like that characteristic about my blog. I can blather on about something and hardly anyone will overhear it.

The Ultimate Referee

A good friend of mine told me today over chat that I'm "too nice". Tell me something I don't know. But her mentioning it got me curious as to how she thinks that I am "too nice". I asked her for examples. But she couldn't remember any off the top of her head.

I soon figured out what she meant. And that's something I've noticed about myself too. (smoothly segways to the topic of conversation)

I am the ultimate referee. I am the translator. I am the filter. Communications that pass through me are processed through this clunky machine I call my brain. And the resulting output at the end of the conveyor belt is a neatly air tight package of nothing but "just the message" in it.

Processing involves skinning, scraping off, and shaving down (pardon the very unintended alliteration), all wrong approaches, short tempers, and finger-points off of what is truly the message that is being communicated.

The result is that people start to understand that we are not surrounded by "the enemy". There are no enemies. We are all teammates.

However, there is a certain level of "upkeep referee-ing" that I need to do on a daily basis to maintain even just a lopped-sided equilibrium. I feel like the U.N. that's constantly holding peace-keeping talks with several heavily armed countries.

Unlike sport referees that are essentially God on the field/court/ring, this referee often gets caught in the crossfire. All anybody else can do is either cringe and say "oh that's gotta hurt", or autistically not notice the shot-up corpse lying beside them.

After the dust settles each day, your left worn out and defeated, while people exit all smiles because the show is over. Everybody goes back to their lives. I come home to an empty appartment, with only myself to give me a "pat on the back". But I usually feel it's all worth it, or it will bear fruit some day.

I know this for sure because I come in for work the next day.

Pain Days

The cluster headache reign of terror seems to be brewing once again. It skipped last year though. So that's a good sign. It woke me up around 4AM, 5AM, or 7AM on consecutive days earlier this week. But at least they only last for about 30-40 minutes. In the past, the peak of the pain gravy train was 2-4 attacks a day lasting anywhere between 2-6 hours long. Imagine a pencil jammed above your right eye, constantly wedging itself deeper into your skull, while the pain eventually engulfs your entire head. Luckily, it's not at that point, at least not yet. And I can still manage to just take medicine and sleep it off. The past two days, the damn monster hasn't woken me up in the middle of my sleep yet. So that too is a good sign.

Wish there was some karmic explanation to the existence of this monster. But I've been wracking my brain for years since college and in all my intelligence, there isn't really any logical karmic explanation.

Endless doctors who are quick to make a simple diagnosis and dole out a prescription that almost always doesn't work (gets you high and turns you into a vegetable though, even if the pain is still there). After tons of doctor's visits, X-rays, MRI/MRAs, and drinking 6-7 different pills at the same time, the only solution doctors can come up with is "reduce stress". It seems the internet has more to tell me than doctors who've spent years studying the human body. I don't mind that modern medicine can't find the answer. I just wish doctors wouldn't feel so smug and think they know everything, even when they're obviously at a loss with my case.

The crux of this particular rant is fear. Fear of the pain. Fear of always facing it alone. Frustrations stems from that fear; asking yourself if you did anything to deserve such pain. Especially when you've lived your life for the past years doing right by everyone. Out of everything I have or don't have in my life, pain is the one thing I dread to be in the company of.

I know I can go through this reign of terror again. I've done it so many times before. I would just rather be spared from it. I would rather it didn't happen. So hopefully given enough rest, it won't take a turn for the worse.

Loneliness and Acceptance

When you live alone, you get lonely just as much as the next person. So I don't see myself extraneously lonelier than most people. I keep myself happy with a lot of things that solely depend on me.

I have grown to rely upon myself, and not latch on somebody else to put a smile on my face or make me laugh. That the very reason why I can go on long weekends all couped up in my appartment and still feel content.

Boredom is a luxury and a very rare commodity when you're working at a high ranking level in the corporate world. And when you find yourself bored, I see it as only an opportunity to do something that makes you happy. If you have time to get bored, that means you have time to do something that will put a smile on your face. I don't think very many people have that option often in their lives.

I'm also all for going for happiness with the least amount of effort. I literally turn my brain off during weekends, and am ultimately lazy. So it's a little difficult to drag me outside of my place to go out, unless there's a gig or some viable reason. With so many effortless things I can do that make me happy in my appartment, staying in is usually the way to go.

It's just funny that people find this loneliness as a sign that I miss someone, or some self-loathing type of resistance to find someone new. From a programmer's point of view, loneliness for me is like a constant variable. It is and will always be there. It is how you perceive that loneliness and how you handle it that shows whether it is a good or bad thing in your life. Beyond people's notions that I'm too picky, or still emotional distraught from my last relationship (psh), I kinda wish people would stop feeling like a chick is the solution to the problem. I just wish people would ease up a little in making it their personal mission to hook me up. It will come along when it comes along. If it does, then great. If it doesn't, it's all good. How many times do I really have to repeat myself.

I always tell people to not be overly concerned about a certain problem unless they are willing to provide a solution to the problem. So I suppose I appreciate people's efforts in that light.

However, it's not even a problem. I am lucky in my situation. There are so many things in my life that make me give off an evil grin and ask myself "What's up!?" in true Boiler Room fashion (Boiler Room is a movie. Go check it out if you haven't seen it). What people don't see is the contentedness and acceptance that I have of my situation. And this in itself also puts a smile on my face.

The Trifecta Result

The result of a combination of the three things I elaborated on in this post, is my realization that nobody really knows me well. I'm guessing that if I put up a "How well do you know blah-blah?" quiz on Facebook about me, that no one will be able to pass it. I hate Facebook quizzes anyway, I'm just trying to make a point. LOL

Like Ani Di Franco said in one of her songs, "the windows to my soul are made of one-way glass". I'm just not sure whether it was I who made it this way, or if people just generally don't try to see beyond the one-way glass.

I expect that some random blogger will stumble upon this post and relegate me to their notion of throngs of emo people that slash their wrists for no reason. One-way glass people. That only shows your limited face-value perspective on a person rather than some epiphany that you have unlocked everything that is me.

There is no resolution to the end of this post. Just merely a download on where my thought process is at this point.

And despite all the ranting that I've done in this extremely verbose and long-winded post, just "look at the fucking smile on mah face; ear to ear baby!". In true Boiler Room fashion once again. Life is all good.