If you were to look at the stuff portal there are finally some new posts that aren’t me. Looking over these posts, I’m going to continue the trend of talking about how things have changed, although Arc’s wasn’t so much about things have changed but how things have progressed and moobs excerpt advised there was a blog about babies and change but instead it 404′d me. Arc took up tai chi. This counts as change.
There are now babies and an extended congratulations to the youngest Young. The theme to last year’s Boxing Day Picnic was “Bring a baby”. Due to not having one and a minor side note of not being in the city that it was being held I did not attend. Did I contemplate becoming the sifty 32 year old man who opens the car door outside schools and other such areas with candy offerings in order to attend? No.
Not only are there babies, there are also nephews which are more my style. In my hope to be favourite uncle, my brother ruins this, reminding me that I am the only uncle… default, the best two words in the english language (Chrome just told me I had spelt english wrong due to no capital. I’ll decide by the end of this post whether or not I’ll bow to it’s chromy wishes). I’m not really ready for fatherhood nor do I have a long term partner in which to procreate (or at a bare minimum practise) but I’ve also done nothing with my life.
Sure, I’m good at my job and I’ve moved the ranks at a reasonable pace. Sure, I’ve moved cities, gone through the loss of a parent at a relatively early age, and made sweet love to a chicken but nothing of note. These things aren’t achievements. I’m not going to talk down their significance but I won’t be this guy on the achievements of life… although it is argued that this was more than one person and if it was only one person then life is one of the few things I can say I have over them. So petty.
This is probably, ok not probably, is the most frustrating thing about my timing. My job is Up in the Air (great movie by the way) on the eve of my domination. On the eve of me turning around to the Mark of old and tell him go and fuck himself… or a chicken. I can no longer plan for things to come because I don’t know what position I’ll be in to do so.
This all comes back to me doing something about things. Once I know where I am (Welly or Chch) I’m going to change where I live/who I live with. I have two flatmates. One of them is book. Perfect flatmate. The best person I have ever lived with and this group of people includes myself. The other one is not so book and this is the epiphany I had the other day.
My other flatmate is the epitamy of where I don’t want to be at their age (ie a couple of years). There are aspects of them that I see in myself and I fucking can’t stand it. There are also aspects of them that just make me want to rip my own hair out and I’ve decided to move on. The “problem” with this kind of flatmate is that unlike the girl in Auckland, he’s not a cunt. Lovely lovely guy. Good to talk to and every now and then you get a element of why you lived with them in the first place but in the greater scheme of things, you realise that this doesn’t account for the things you don’t like about them that remind you of you and the aspects you just don’t like or have outgrown. It’s just difficult to deliver the hard messages when they’re nice.
and upon the re-read I’m wondering if this is another bunch of excuses I’ve always come up with.
So as I sit here in my lounge, perusing the many DVDs I own (I asked myself why? a couple of days ago. I’ll get back to me when I know the answer), the two computers, the fuckofflarge couch, the piles of games, and I wonder if there was anything I would’ve done differently to get my to this point.
Yes. I realised a couple of days ago that yes I do have regrets. Yes, I do wish I could change some things that were within my control. I’m not overly unhappy with my life nor am I overly happy. I don’t know what I think about it. I have 0 suicidal tendancies bar a couple of random thoughts about how if I did, I’d probably just end up screwing up the rest of my family rather than doing them any good.
The only person who would benefit from me killing myself is me… and would I really? If death was actually a much better place than life then why hasn’t everyone done it? Who has ever looked forward to the completely unknown? We fear the unknown just like we fear the dark.
When I was driving my flatmate (the book one) to the airport yesterday, I saw a couple of churches and I’m sorry if I’m about to offend those of you who do (close the tab now… what do you mean “what tab?”?) but I just don’t get religion. It doesn’t interest me, it doesn’t make any sense at all to me, and I think that the invention of lying while it was crap and probably went to a place which no one was ready for, did a pretty good job of showing one of my viewpoints on religion. If I were to update my facebook profile with religious views, I would be looking for something along the lines of ambivalent but to update it would show I cared. Is it ironic that I am ranting about how much I don’t care about religion? The default answer to these questions always appear to be “Ask Alanis”.
So I digress as “Underdog” by Turin Brakes comes on from Lazy Sunday 3 which today will be. Next Sunday will be awesome even if it means its getting closer to letting go.
If you’re in Wellington on Wednesday 3rd March, from about 5pm I am meeting people to drink beer at some beer bar down Taranaki Street. I actually don’t know the name but seeing as I won’t be going to the Beer festival in Wellington, this seems like a good alternative. If you know how to txt, do that on the day.