Estranged

Hello, folks. I haven’t been around here in a while. Between work, vacationing in Montreal and Ottawa (it was fun seeing friends and family), and a little bit of leisure, I did not take much time to organize my thoughts and put them down here. I will try to get to it more often in the weeks to come.

Last weekend, I watched the movie "Taxi Driver" once again, after buying it on DVD. I have seen it a few times before and I will probably see it time and time again until I kick the proverbial bucket down the line. It remains one of my favourite films of all time.

This time around, though, different thoughts have occurred to me while I was watching. It is kind of weird, but I started feeling some compassion for the character played by Robert De Niro, Travis Bickle. It was as if I could see a little of myself in his feeling of alienation from society. Then, it brought me back to my reading of Albert Camus’ book, L’Étranger (The Stranger),a book with a main character sharing that same feeling of being estranged from the rest of the world.

Wether it is with family, co-workers or complete strangers, I often feel alone in my little world. I start feeling like nobody really cares anyways and I pull back; I go back into my thoughts and share as little as possible about it. Even within my own family, I sometimes feel like I don’t belong there, like I am at odds with everyone else, like I don’t relate, like they don’t understand. Don’t get me wrong, I love my family very much, I just feel like I am too different. My wife fits much better within their group. She is such a sociable person anyways, she is outwardly, outspoken and extroverted. Not me. With her family? Forget about it. I feel even more like an alien. I love them, I like to think they love me...I am just on a different beat. At work, it is pretty much the same. I do not fit within the group, I do not blend in.

Now, unlike Travis Bickle and unlike the main character in Camus’ book, I am not a violent person. In moments of frustration, certain images can pop up in my head. But, I would never act upon it. Sometimes, I could be talking to someone I don’t particularly like or someone who bores me. I look like I am listening intently, but, in my head, I am thinking stuff like: From here, I could punch that person’s lights out right now. I would never do it, I don’t even say anything nasty. After all, as alienated as I may feel from the rest of the world, I don’t like hurting other people or hurting their feelings. So, I just breathe and calm myself down.

That being said, you all may think I am weird. So be it. I feel so alone sometimes in my thoughts, but I don’t feel like living a lie. So, here it is: a little part of me, an outsider in this world where we would like everyone to fit in nicely, like little pieces in a puzzle. I am sorry to say I am a bizarrely shaped piece who only fits in his wife’s heart. She loves me and saves me daily, and that is all that matters to me. She thinks I am beautiful. I don’t see it for myself, but who am I to argue anyways. She is the beholder, I will do my best to find that beauty of mine in her eyes and go on with my life.

Cheers and later, folks.

Vengeance

Hier soir, j’ai visionné le film québécois "Les sept jours du Talion". Quel film intense. Voici un bref synopsis : La vie des Hamel se retrouve bouleversée un jour lorsque leur fille de 8 ans est violée et tuée. Un homme est arrêté, mais M. Hamel a d’autres plans pour l’accusé. Il entreprend de kidnapper le présumé tueur et de le torturer pendant sept jours.

Vous l’aurez deviné, ce n’est pas un film très jojo. Cela dit, c’est tellement bien joué, surtout de la part de Claude Legault, qui joue le père qui se sent coupable et croit en devoir une à sa fille. On sent très bien sa peine et sa rage dans tout ça, on en vient même presque à l’appuyer dans sa démarche à un moment donné.

C’est le genre de film qui suscite toujours des questions dans ma tête. Que ferais-je dans une situation pareille. Je ne veux même pas imaginer ce que ce serait de perdre ma femme ainsi ou bien les enfants que j’aurai peut-être un jour. Je ne peux pas dire de façon définitive quelle serait ma réaction, on ne peut le savoir pour sûr sans l’avoir vécu. Cela dit, il ne fait aucun doute dans mon esprit que je pourrais facilement perdre la tête. Je ne sais pas si j’irais jusqu’à torturer le criminel pendant sept jours, mais cette personne serait définitivement en danger si je lui mettais la main au collet dans cet état d’esprit. Je ne suis même pas parent, et je ressens déjà cette soif de vengeance à l’idée qu’on puisse faire quelque chose comme ça un enfant. La pédophilie est un geste que je ne pourrai jamais pardonner.

Les gens ayant de fortes croyances religieuses diront : "two wrongs don’t make a right". D’autres diront qu’ils ne croient pas dans la violence, peu importe le contexte. Pour ma part, les choses ne sont pas aussi définitives. Ceux que j’aime sont plus précieux pour moi que ma propre existence. Compte tenu de cela, je pourrais facilement devenir quelqu’un qui n’a plus rien à perdre. Mais, bon, j’aimerais mieux ne jamais avoir à le vivre.

Selon moi, "Les sept jours du Talion" est un film à voir, pour ceux qui ont le coeur solide. Les scènes de torture sont dures, parfois presque insoutenables. Toutefois, ce n’est pas gratuit, c’est dans le contexte. Le silence a une place importante dans ce film, comme quoi tout disparaît autour de nous quand des drames surviennent. Le questionnement quant à la ligne à tracer entre le bien et le mal est intéressant et peut susciter des discussions passionnées.

Si vous avez vu le film, vous pouvez me laisser vos commentaires. Si vous ne l’avez pas vu mais que vous avez une opinion sur le sujet, n’hésitez pas non plus.

Free-floating hostilities 1

I will take a page out of the great George Carlin’s book today and offer you some free-floating hostilities. No rhyme or reason, no line of thought to guide it, just a list of things that bother me or piss me off. Just like my idol George Carlin, I don’t have pet peeves: I have major psychotic hatreds.

Hopefully, you folks with relate with at least some of these.

The inseparable love-birds: I’m talking about those who just can’t keep their hands off each other in public. Those lip-smacking sounds and continuous sweet-nothings being whispered can be a total annoyance. If you’re not willing to put on a full show by doing the nasty in front of everyone, keep it for the privacy of your own home. Half-ass shows, I don’t care for. Go ahead and make it really entertaining, or leave me out of it!

Matching t-shirts: Ah yes, those cute ageing couple (no young couple would dare do such a thing) walking around with matching t-shirts. I saw this American couple in Quebec city last weekend. He had a black and white t-shirt saying: "I’m never right". She had a similar one that read: "He sho’ ain’t". These pathetic morons are cheesy beyond belief and should be told so. Idiots! At least, be witty about the whole thing, or it is pointless!

Bare-chested old men: You have all seen them. Those 65 year old men biking around town with only shorts on. Orange-coloured tans, white chest hairs, flabby skin. Put a shirt on, damnit! Young women, on the other hand, take yours off. You have something good to show, do so!

Pet worshippers: Those people who think their pets are more important than other human being and who want to impose their love of animals unto others. Look, I walk erect (well, most of the time ;P) and I contribute to society. I like to think I take precedence on any pet. And cute pet stories ain’t so cute. Leave me out of it.

More to come. I will try to make this a regular part of my blogging, as it is a good way to get things off your chest. Mine is not bared, thank god, but it is lighter now thanks.

Step 2...

Do not let the title of this post worry you, folks, I am not about to break into song and start paying tribute to The New Kids on the Block by giving my own rendition of "Step by Step". I have not sunk that low yet in the depths of insanity.

This is a small post to give my peeps an update on my situation. As you all know by now, if you have been reading my blog, I am trying to attain a certain proper balance in my consumption habits. Wether it is food or alcohol, I want to be able, in the short term, to be more reasonable. I will not quit drinking altogether and discover Jesus in the process, that would not be me, but I want to have healthier habits, that is for certain.

Last weekend, I moved on to the second step of my three steps program. Forget the twelve steps process, this thing is adapted for me. All through last weekend, there were opportunities to have a few drinks, and I took them. But, each time, I put on the breaks early and stopped before even getting inebriated.

I am quite proud of myself. I know that a lot of people in my entourage thought that the absolute sobriety thing would last longer than a month, but I felt the effect it had on me wasn’t what I needed at this time. I always felt like I was punishing myself by refusing even the slightest of contact with my good old friend. I felt that I needed to trust myself one more time before absolutely giving up drinking.

So, on these occasions, over the weekend, I took a small dip. I am quite proud of the fact that I was able to stop before getting drunk. It is the same feeling I get when I pull away from the table before getting that feeling of fullness in my stomach. We all know that, by the time we feel full, we have eaten too much food. There was more booze available, and I didn’t partake. I was offered more and said no. That’s a huge step for a guy who wouldn’t stop until passing out, sometimes.

Considering the success I have had with the second step, I am moving on to the third and final one. The trick now is to take a little dip once in a while, but not too often. I will spend the next two weekend having fun and visiting stuff with my lovely wife. Those are times when I usually don’t indulge in the spirits, and I will make sure it stays that way. Then, I’ll try to keep it for special occasions, not whenever I feel like it. It also goes without saying that the amounts consumed each time will have to be reasonable.

So, I am continuing on this journey to a healthier me. Have a thought for me, my friends. It won’t be easy, but I want to do it. It has to work, or I’ll have to quit it all cold turkey, and that would suck. So, cheers, peeps, and have a good day!

28 days later

I haven’t updated my blog very much lately; I hope you people that were following me before didn’t totally forget about this site by now. To be honest, I don’t feel inspired to do very much these days. I thought quitting alcohol for a while would give me a boost in energy, but it has had the opposite effect. Even on the weekends, by the time midnight comes around, my body and my spirit gives up on me and asks for sleep. I think my whole system finds my new lifestyle so boring, so it just gives up and wants to go to bed.

Yes, it has been 28 days since I had my last drink. I have had a few drinking hiatus over the last few years, but this one has been the hardest ever. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to put all of this pressure on myself by telling everybody around me I was doing it. My intentions were good, I wanted to tough it out. After 28 days, the main thought in my head still is: when will I stop putting myself through this?

I still want to hang on to this sobriety thing, at least for a while. I want to clean out my system and give myself a head start with the weight loss thing. I will drink eventually; I just want to be able to do it responsibly.

I sincerely thought that I wouldn’t miss it that much. I was told that, after 28 days, it would all get better. It is not. I do not want to drink all the time, but, in certain occasions, it sucks to have to say: Nah, I don’t drink. There has to be a place right in between binging and staying absolutely sober. I want to find that place. Have a few drinks in good company, on the right occasions, not emptying bottles every weekend. That is something I want to accomplish for myself. I know I can do it. I will do it.

As for now, I will give myself some more time before I touch it again. I’ll keep you posted on this and other subjects.

La fête des pères

Ce serait mentir que de vous dire que la fête des pères 2010 n’a pas un goût amer pour moi. J’étais convaincu que, à ce moment-ci de ma vie, je serai l’heureux papa de mon ange d’Ukraine, Il semble que la vie ne l’a pas voulu ainsi, et j’essaie tant bien que mal de faire le deuil de tout ça.

Cela dit, je veux profiter de l’occasion aujourd’hui pour saluer une personne extrêmement spéciale dans ma vie. Si jamais je devais devenir père un jour, j’espère que je serai à la hauteur du père que j’ai.

Mon père et moi nous ressemblons beaucoup physiquement. Sa paternité ne peut être mise en doute dans ce cas-ci. Je partage aussi avec lui un grand sens de l’humour, l’amour des femmes et le goût pour la bonne bouffe.

Mais, nous avons aussi nos grandes différences. Mon père est un homme fort, solide et respecté; un homme d’affaires, un homme de tête. Il est un homme de convictions, convaincu et convaincant. Je suis un homme de mots et de cœur. Un homme d’incertitude et de doute. Je suis un artiste dans l’âme, avec tout ce que cela peut comporter.

Cela dit, nous nous rejoignons au milieu. Je respecte et j’aime mon père. Il m’a inculqué le respect, la générosité et l’amour, et je lui suis reconnaissant d’avoir été un aussi bon père. C’est un homme qui donnerait sa chemise pour aider son prochain. Avec le temps, il est aussi devenu un ami et un allié, ce que j’apprécie grandement aussi. Si jamais je devenais un jour la moitié de l’homme qu’il est, je saurai alors que j’aurai accompli de grandes choses.

Bonne fête des pères papa! Bonne fête à tous ceux qui ont la chance d’être père et une pensée pour tous ceux qui, comme moi, rêvent de le devenir.

Goodbye old friend

As I sit alone at home on this Saturday afternoon of June 2010, I now realize that it is definitely time for me to turn a new page in my life, to start a new chapter so to speak. The idea has been forming slowly in my mind and in my soul for the last week or so, but I now know for sure that it is time for me to say goodbye to a very old friend of mine.

Dear old friend, we do go back a long way. You have been in my life, in one form or another, for the past 15 years. I have come to you in the past for various reasons. Comfort, relaxation, numbness, pleasure...and sometimes, it was simply a social occasion where you did just fit right in. It has been great. You haven’t been as rough on me as you have been on so many others. We’ve had tons of laughter, not too many tears.

Unfortunately, as of late, I have come to realize that I rely on you too much to get me through tough times. You have become somewhat of a crutch. I don’t want that. I don’t want to become a total shell of my former self. And, I must say, your benefits have kind of waned. All you seem to leave behind you when you leave now are bad unhealthy feelings.

So, today, it seems apparent to me that we must part ways. Our paths might cross again in the future, and hopefully I will be a better man then, one that will be able to let you into my life on occasion and not go overboard. For now, I will stay away and build myself back up. It is clear to me that you can’t be part of my road to recovery. We may see each other on the outside, and I am OK with that. Just know that I can be strong and I will.

Today, I can still your presence in my home. It is slowly fading though. And, when this day turns into night, and I go to sleep, I know that tomorrow will me that first day of the rest of my life. One more evening together, and then I’ll show you to the door.

So, goodbye old friend, goodbye to you moist mistress. Goodbye to you, sweet bottle.