Merry Fucking Christmas [Parental Advisory- Language that may be offensive to some.]- Blogmas 12

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Okay, so my Blogmas post today is a rant.

I’ve been posting my Blogmas entries to a lot of different blogger sites that do retweeting. You see, I’m hoping maybe, just maybe, I could make a go with this writing thing. Seeing as how I’m very soon to be without a paycheque, I need to find another source of income. (Just a heads up, this post is going to be all over the place!) You see I’ve been on sick leave from my regular job of teaching because “I’m fucked up in the head,” right. Funny side story- when I wrote “I’m fucked up in the head” right, I was thinking of the lyric to the Limp Bizkit song, “Nookie” and for years I’ve been singing along to that song with “I’m fucked up in the head, right” but in looking up the lyric to give credit where it’s due, I discovered the lyric is actually, “fucked up in the head, not.” Huh.

Well, there’s no “not” in being fucked up for me- I have Conversion Disorder, Somatic Symptom Disorder and ADHD. And now, to top it all off, my paid sick leave is about to run out and because teachers get paid for the 195 days in the school year (September to June) and they start our pay year as of August 1, I have been overpaid.

merry
Image from Amazon. They are not paying me to feature this product, but hey, Amazon, feel free!

Which means when my paid days run out, I have to pay back $1000. I get it, I owe it. I’m not saying I don’t, but it’s stressful knowing I have to come up with that money somehow when I’m about to go on Long-term disability benefits and that’s ONLY if I’m approved! So yeah, Merry Fucking Christmas! Thank you, brain chemicals, neurotransmitters and brain wiring stuff! (I warned you, this would be a rant.)

 

Okay, so back to Blogmas and how I’ve been retweeting my blogs and all of that. So as I’m going onto these Blogging Twitter Groups, I’m also reading blogs that have been posted. And I am getting so sick of Blogmas!!! Blech-mas more like. (Maybe I’m just bitter because I’m about to have Broke-mas.) Every post is pretty similar. “Great gift ideas under $20” and a list of products that can be bought online, for example. I can’t help but wonder, did these bloggers even try out these products? If I have to look at one more Blogmas about make-up, hair, decorations and gifts and where to buy them, I’m going to stab someone in the throat, anyone, whoever is closest (probably my husband or his grandfather!)* My goodness! I don’t mean to be grinchy (that’s right, I turned Grinch into an adjective) but I’m starting to get sick of Blogmas!

blogmas_InPixio
See sources at the end of this post for the blog site this photo came from. The Blogger, Laura, had a very cool idea of writing a comment on other people’s blogs for Blogmas.

The blogs I enjoy the most are the ones that come from an authentic place. The writers are “keeping it real.” Now that said, and I imagine a lot of these bloggers who are writing about all these wonderful products, are probably getting paid by companies. I’m not going to lie: I would do it to if it meant money in my pocket. Shout out: “Hey Companies, pick me! I will write wonderful things about your crappy products because I am about to be poor!” Well, poorer. Not that I’m poor poor, I’m just terrible at managing money.

Anyway, my next few Blogmases are going to be a lot less Christmas-y because I don’t want to stab anyone.** And I think I’ll even skip the retweeting on those Blog Retweet sites so I don’t have to see them. I just need a Blogmas break for a few days. Thanks for reading my rant and sorry if I offended anyone.

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All I can scratch together is two Canadian nickels. [photo is my own]
P.S. Can you spare a dime?

*I won’t really stab anyone in the throat. I have conversion disorder, remember, so instead I’ll keep my anger and negative emotions in, and then have facial twitches, contortions and seizure-like shaking.

**Again, I must reiterate: I’m not really going to stab anyone. I’ll just twitch, contort, and shake like Linda Blair in The Exorcist (original 1973 version) minus the head spin.

Sources:

Laura. Blogmas, Well, Sort of Pic. “Blogmas 2016.” Constantly Curious. <\http://constantlycurious.co.uk/2016/12/blogmas-2016/> December 9, 2017.

Merry Fucking Christmas Bauble. Amazon. <https://www.amazon.co.uk/Santa-Balls-Fucking-Christmas-Bauble/dp/B00G450LBI> December 9, 2017.

It’s Christmas Time in Saint John, NB; A Time for Parades & ADHD

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With Remembrance Day & Veteran’s Day, or whatever day in November you call it in your respective countries (if you even have such a day?) over, the Christmas season is now upon us (for those of us who partake.) Of course, the stores were bringing out the Christmas doodads even before Halloween was upon us. So even if Christmas is not a holiday you celebrate in my neck of the woods, your participation is forced upon you. Here, all of the stores will be closed on Christmas Day and Boxing Day. In Canada, we celebrate Boxing Day, which growing up, I always thought was a day set aside for literally boxing up the presents received at Christmas and boxing up all the decorations. What I later learned is that it is actually a tradition brought over to Canada by British colonists and that it was a day off for servants of the wealthy Brits since the servants had to work on Christmas. (So basically all the wealthy Brits were Scrooges; the movie versions of A Christmas Carol got it all wrong.) In any case, with the advent of Christmas, most communities in Canada have a parade to officially kick off the season.

Growing up, I had never been to a Christmas parade. I told my husband that, and he was shocked. We watched them on TV, but we never actually attended. For two reasons, I believe: one was my father and the other was my mother. My dad would never take us because he’d have to find parking and it would be crowded. We rarely went to any parades or fireworks or any other thing of that sort because of my dad and parking and crowds. Also, probably because he’d be too far away from the Home Bowl. And if we were so lucky to attend an event that involved parking and crowds, we never got to stay for the whole event, because my father would rush us out early to “beat the crowd.” He also hates traffic. My mother, who usually would be into going to such events, was never arsed to go to the Christmas parade, I think, because she hate, hate, hates the cold. And in Canada, if you haven’t heard, it can get pretty cold.

Last night, I attended the third Christmas parade I have ever attended in my life. The first one, I went to with my mom a few years ago in the small town my husband and I moved to (it was a mild evening) and the second one, I went to last year with my husband in the same small town. Small town parades are just that: SMALL. But I’d never been to one, so I was pretty stoked about both of them. I was excited last night to attend the 65th annual Saint John Santa Claus Parade. Saint John, New Brunswick is a small city, but it is, after all a city.

On the way to the parade, I decided to check my phone for messages. You see I was texting with the Blog Broad, and earlier in the day, I had offered to take her dog, Lucy, for a walk. Here is how our conversation went yesterday afternoon before the parade.

Me:  You up for me stopping by and dognapping Lucy? I think I’ll take her for a walk on the Harbour trail. 1:53 pm

Blog Broad: Sure 🙂 2:00 pm

Blog Broad: When are you coming by? Probably gotta lay down in a bit. 2:24 pm

Blog Broad: I really gotta lay down… feeling poopy. 2:54 pm

Blog Broad: Sorry Buddy… just miserable. I’ll msg you when I get up..:) 3:17 pm

Me: I’m sorry. I got impatient and put up outside lights. 4:32 pm

The Christmas parade or Santa Claus parade, or whatever you want to call it, started at 6:00 pm on the other side of town. C (my husband) and I took down the camping chairs and were viewing the parade at its ending point. I insisted we go early to get good seats. I wanted to be there at 6:00 pm but C said we should wait until 7:00 pm. We compromised and set up our chairs around 6:40 pm. And then we waited. And waited. And waited. I did what I always do when there is nothing to stimulate my mind. I checked my phone. The Blog Broad had sent me another message…it was a screen shot of the first two lines of our original conversation and the times. I offered to dog sit at 1:53 pm. She replied, “Sure” at 2:00 pm. Her comment was: “This is how I know for a fact you have ADHD. 7 mins lol you got bored in 7 minutes lmfao” with an emoji smiley guy laughing his fucking ass off.

So…I’m laughing at myself, because she’s right. Who gets impatient waiting for a response in 7 minutes??? ME! That’s who. Then the parade starts.

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The first float was for the Food Bank and C and I felt horrible, because we didn’t know they’d be collecting donations of food. (Especially since we have plenty- do food banks take expired food?)

Around 6:50 pm, the first float finally came. At long last. Those 10 minutes of waiting felt like an eternity.  And then… nothing.

At 7:11 pm, I said to C, “If another float doesn’t come down here by 7:15 pm, let’s just leave.” I waited for what felt like eons. Looked at my phone for the time. Still 7:11 pm. Ugh!

Finally, at 7:15, the rest of the parade catches up. We stayed for about 8 floats in total and left super early. Not because it wasn’t good, or even that I was bored. Rather, we left because I wanted to: it was crowded; I didn’t want us to be stuck in traffic; but mostly, we left because I was totally fucking FROZEN!!!

Here are some pictures and videos of what I did see of the parade:

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Another collector truck for the Food Bank.
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Snow man in a truck. Buy a Chev. (I wouldn’t, but that’s just me.)

I know it’s a bit early, but the Christmas decorations have been for sale since August, so maybe it’s late… to all of my readers & followers, I wish you a Happy Kwanzaa, Hanukkah, Milad un Nabi, and a Merry Christmas. Let’s just say HAPPY HOLIDAYS! That way if I missed you, then everyone is covered.

Peace!

OH

 


NOW/ NOT NOW- A Journey through time with the ADHD mind

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My whole life has been a disorganized mess, literally, as my mother would tell you while pulling her hairs out examining my pig sty of a bedroom. Actually, it was worse than a pig sty. Ever watch the show “Hoarders”? It was kind of like that. It’s because I have difficulty in thinking about the past and future and putting those time frames in reference with the here and now. I really do live in the present everyday which is prescribed by many inspirational quotes found on mugs, in picture frames, fridge magnets, key chains and other knickknacks: “Live in the moment. Forget the past and don’t worry about the future.” Sure, it sounds great in theory. But when your mind is constantly in the present all of the time, chaos ensues. I know this, because my mind works in only two modes: “Now” and “Not now” and it always has. I am the ADHD poster child. So in this piece I’m going to prove with my own life experience why these “live in the moment” idioms are bogus. That’s right, I’m talking to you YOLOers- because, yes, you only live once, but you still have to think about consequences and use logic. For people who don’t have ADHD, I would imagine it is quite easy to encourage a care-free existence where little thought is given to past events and future consequences.

 

As someone who has pretty much always lived in the moment, I’m going to show you how living in the moment has resulted in some pretty awful consequences, some of which could have been avoided if I’d been capable of remembering things from the past and using that knowledge to prevent future catastrophes. I hope this table makes it easy to understand how my mind has worked since I was a child:

 

NOW NOT NOW RESULT
Now I am 4. I just got home from trick-or-treating. My parents don’t want me to eat all of my candy so I will hide some in the very bottom of toy box for later. I have to be quick because my parents are coming in to put me to bed. Shhhh… they’re coming.

 

Candy? Not now, I think everyday after this now that the candy is at the bottom of the toybox and my toys are on the top. The candy stayed in my toybox for months. The next summer my bedroom became infested with ants. Large ants. EVERYWHERE! My parents had to tear my room apart to find what was attracting them all. They found the ant nest at the bottom of my toy box, with the candy.
Now I’m 14. My bedroom floor is full of discarded clothes (too fat for this!) and paper (This poem I wrote sucks!). I’m busy doing homework while listening to the radio. They are playing the Top 9 at 9 and they are going to play the newest hit “Straight Up” by Paula Abdul. Homework? Not now. I dump my homework on the floor  so I can get out my boom box and wait for “Straight Up” to come on but I have to be really strategic about it so I don’t get the radio announcer’s voice at the beginning or end of the song. I hope the deejay doesn’t mess it up on me again by talking over the track.

 

My homework isn’t done the next day. I can impress my friends with my tape of the newest hit song that I was so patient for though. School’s not really that important, right? Reading, writing, who uses that?
Now, still 14, I am happy to have my tape of Paula Abdul’s “Straight Up” to impress my friends with tomorrow, but I might want to have a sleepover this weekend, and I need my room to impress my friends, so I decide I’m going to tape the latest pin-ups of Corey Haim and Kirk Cameron out of Teen Beat and tape them to my walls. My mixed tape and boom-box? Not now!  I throw the boom-box and tape of the song on the floor beside the homework and get out Teen Beat, scissors, tape and a chair to stand on. I can’t find my homework to hand in the next day because it’s somewhere in a pile on my floor mixed in with clothes, papers, and tapes.
Now I have some photos up on the wall, but I didn’t finish. But Degrassi Junior High is about to come on, so I can’t finish it now. I have to go to the living room because we only have one TV and it is on the floor in a giant wooden box. Oh, and it only has 13 channels AND you have to get up and walk to change the channels. Awesome new pin-ups in my room for a sleepover on the weekend? Not now! I throw the magazines, scissors and tape into the growing pile of things on the floor in my room. I can’t find my tape of Paula Abdul because it is buried in the pile of clothes, papers, tapes, magazines and scissors.
Now I am watching Degrassi and eating yogurt. The show is over and  I’m taking my yogurt into my bedroom. I’m going to call my friend Lorrie from the landline on the corded phone in my bedroom to talk about what happened on the show. Yogurt? Not now. I’m tired. I put the half-eaten yogurt container carefully on the floor with the best intentions of putting the container in the kitchen garbage in the morning. My posters on the wall are only half-done, my room is messy and my homework wasn’t done so my mother won’t allow me to have a sleepover on the weekend.
Now I’m 16 and trying to fall asleep. The pile of mess on the floor of my room has grown exponentially over the course of 2 years. I awaken to a clicking sound. Sleep? Not now! Every little noise is soooo distracting to me. What is that clicking sound? After several nights of hearing the clicking sound, I finally turn the light on when I hear it and search it out. To my surprise (but really, should I have been surprised?) I find a cockroach.
Now I’m 18 and I just received my $500 Visa card to use for emergencies as a university student. Now I’m wishing I had a nicer boom box than the Realistic  one from Radio Shack that I’ve had since I was fourteen. (For all of you who were born after the Radio Shack years, Realistic was Radio Shack’s generic band. I guess it was called “Realistic” because while the store brand electronics looked like the more expensive, brand name ones, they were actually just overpriced pieces of shit.) Now I’m going to go and buy a real stereo, a Panasonic, that plays both tapes AND CDs. Visa card for emergencies? Not now. Besides, having a Realistic brand stereo IS an emergency! And a life full of financial burden begins…

 

These are just a sampling of how life is pretty much a series of “now” moments for me. It still is even to this day, although I have strategies in place to help me now. I made a rule for myself to no longer allow food in my bedroom so that helps. Even if my bedroom gets messy, there will not be ants or cockroaches. Another problem not shown on my handy table that I have is keeping track of keys, purses, and bank cards. I got my first bank card at fifteen years old and by the time I was eighteen, they’d issued me 18 cards due to having lost them. I’ve lost purses or left them behind on the backs of chairs in restaurants so many times that now I only buy purses with long straps so I can wear them across my body and I never take my purse off. I even pee with my purse on because I’ve left purses on those hooks on the back of the bathroom stall before. I’ve actually considered getting one of those waist pouches but still can’t get past the stigma attached to them from their popularity back in the late 80s/early 90s. As for my keys, my husband makes fun of me mercilessly for it, and I’ve had people make comments to me “Are those for work?”, because I have attached my car keys to a lanyard that I wear around my neck all the time. I have to because I’ve wasted too much time in my life searching for keys.

 

The worst part of thinking in the present all the time is not being able to remember where you put things. So much of my time is wasted trying to find items that I put aside, no longer needing them, thus not paying attention to where I put them. Then when I do need them, it causes anxiety and frustration. So to all you fools with your inspirational “live in the moment” bullshit quotes, fuck you! If you truly knew what living in the moment all the time is like, you wouldn’t like it one bit. You people should be thankful for your ability to be aware of the past and future while living in the moment. It is a blessing.

 

And now to my most hated group of all, those YOLOers. I’m sorry if you are a YOLOer. But you people make me sick! You only live once. Here’s the thing about being in the present all the time, when you are always in the now- as I’ve said above- your time is constantly being wasted. Yes, I want to enjoy my life. I get the sentiment in the whole YOLO movement. But searching around for keys, purses, documents, rings, necklaces, mittens, laptops, cell phones, (you name it, I’ve lost it) is not an enjoyable way to spend time. If I will only live once, I would like my life to be filled with happy, joyful memories. Not memories of all the times I’ve lost things. And one more thing for all you YOLOs- what makes you so sure that “you only live once”? So basically, what you’re saying is Buddhists, Hindus, Jainists and Siks have it all wrong? What makes you YOLOers such great experts in life? For the love of Allah, stop passing on preachy clichés, trying to tell the rest of us how to live our best lives. Put an end to encouraging risk-taking behaviours! Stop glorifying a life spent at Lost and Found bins!

 

I think what I’m trying to say can actually be summed up best with a quote from Charles Darwin, which is ironic in a way. He revolutionized science with his survival of the fittest theory. Sorry, YOLOers, but the “You only live once” philosophy doesn’t bode well for the survival of our species. Or maybe it does? Imagine all the YOLOers dying in bungee-jumping accidents in their YOLO T-shirts hollering out YOLO all the way down until SPLAT. It really does give me a bit of hope. Anyway, Darwin said, “A [person] who dares to waste one hour of time has not discovered the value of life.” At first glance you may think, “but it’s the same thing as living in the moment and YOLO.” I don’t see it that way- it is about using your time effectively- if you waste your time, in essence, you are wasting your life. Whether you agree with the theory of evolution or not, you have to agree that Darwin’s studies did contribute to our knowledge of many species of animals and plants. It seems that in our modern world, we have become selfish with this “you only live once, living in the moment” attitude. People are huge time wasters- taking selfies, posting on social media, playing games on phones, Netflix binges. Having a reason for getting up in the morning is what’s important- not having as much fun as you can before you reach the end. The value in life is being productive.  That’s what I find so depressing about my ADHD- the time I waste trying to stay organized. So I think a better life mantra is “Live with purpose.” In the advent of all this new technology, far too many of us are wandering around without purpose just YOLOing along, self-absorbed and living in the moment. I have an excuse for it- my brain is dopamine challenged. But I take drugs for that. So if you’re YOLOing along without a purpose, what’s your excuse?

 

LWP. Live with purpose.

 

Just one more thing… have you seen my keys?

 

-Ocean Hayward-