Tuesday, 30 August 2011
Slept on the floor this past weekend with most of the furniture having been picked up by... well, everyone and their pet snake in the two days before that. Then two days of Extreme Cleaning and finally today handing over the apartment keys.
So officially I don't have a home of my own anymore. What I do have is 2 forwarding addresses and tickets to Mexico City for tomorrow morning.
It's very weird, very surreal, very constipating and my god did I have a metric shit-ton of crap in my house!
(double points for managing to make two references to poo in the same sentence)
And it's not even that I'd collect stuff. Bar Friends DVD boxed sets, I don't collect things. I don't like excess stuff. Unless it's pretty clothes. Wait, no, not even when it's pretty clothes. I don't like excess stuff. I hate tiny little things that serve no purpose and unles they were hand-carved by someone dear to me out of bark from The Tree Of Life and they wept blood and raw dreams on it, I'm not going to like useless knick-knacks. And I still managed to have a whole other housefull of useless items.
I'd like to blame all the friends I have that like carving shit out of The Tree Of Life.
Mostly though, what it boils down to is that there was a lot of stuff I was carrying around that belonged to mum that I'm pretty sure she's already forgotten she ever owned AND the fact that we, as people/humans collectively, manufacture, use, own, desire a whole lot of pointless stuff. Could I live my life perfectly happy without having all seasons of Friends on DVDs at my constant disposal at all times 24/7? I think I might. Could I bear to pot my plants in pots that don't perfectly match in shade to the curtains? I'd probably live. Why exactly have some unnamed relatives given me several kilograms of substandard drawing paper as gifts over the years? Because they're awesome at supporting me but really crap at estimating what sort of paper would be worth even looking at twice.
More importantly: why are companies producing piss poor drawing paper that doesn't stand for any other kind of drawing method besides lightly brushing with a very very soft pencil from several feet away? Why is there so much manufacturing (ie. using natural resources from raw ingredients like oil and minerals and trees and water to pure energy expenditude) of items that do not last, are not meant to last, are not qualified to be used for the things they say they are and basically serve no purpose but to employ people and to use up those pesky dwindling natural resources I mentioned?
Here's an idea: how about we just make stuff that actually does what it claims to and isn't built so that it only has Functional and Fuck That Shit settings? You think that might help with all that Energy Crisis and Depleted Natural Resources stuff?
Of course, the bad bit with thinking crazy like this is that it'll eventually lead you to thinking that wait, if we did that, there'd be a lot less demand for stuff (because the stuff would last longer and be fixable), ergo there'd be a lot fewer jobs and a lot less money to go around. Now, I know this may sound like crazy talk, but I keeping thinking that you know, maybe we like possibly work too much. Like, maybe, just maybe, there are people who work like 12-14 hour days and make tuppence for it. And like.. I dunno.. maybe it might be possible that if we produced less pointless crap, those people who work crazy hours could work like only moderately crazy hours and maybe if we spread out all that left-over work, they'd have to work even less and maybe have time for living and stuff and you know, if the money was sort of more evenly and fairly distributed, it wouldn't matter that people would only work for like 4 hours/day because they could still afford to live.
But that's just crazy hippy commie talk. So better stop thinking nonsense.
Is it a perfect plan? Of course not. There are no perfect plans, just happier people.
It's 1am already. Maybe I should get a few hours sleep from all this socio-economical gobbledygook. Got a continent to change today.
So yeah... next Sunday I'll be in Mexico wondering what the hell happened to my life.
(Oh and in case you were wondering about the smells in my apartment and I know you're not but I'm going to tell you anyway; the old booze smell came from emptying out my liquor cabinet in the sink and the butt-smell came from my favourite ballerinas starting to rot from all the humidity and foot-sweat we've been having over here lately. I thought you'd appreciate all the details. You know I only tell you because I love you.)
Thursday, 18 August 2011
.. all the furniture magically doesn't go anywhere. Yup, it's all still there. You'd think what with most people complaning about lack of money and insane prices, selling furniture (that does NOT smell like urine and as far as I've noticed, does NOT have cooties) for tuppence would be dead easy. You'd think that and you would be wrong. People don't seem to want used furniture. I'm reminded by that every day by the sheer amount of furniture still sitting in my living room AND by that sorry old sofa someone ditched in the hallway of our building. We get that a lot. Which makes this place sound a lot more like a slum for very rich people with a lot of extra furniture, than it actually is. I've come to the conclusion that most people don't seem to know that if your stuff is broken, you can fix it. If it can't be fixed (and smells like weewee and has cooties) there are places that you're pretty much obliged by law to take those things to. These places will then either fix the unfixable for you because let's face it, you suck and just didn't know how to do things right, or they'll dig a hole and bury it.
And when I say "pretty much obliged by the law" I mean, you are required by the law to do these things or get fined/jailed depending on how much environmental damage your crap causes when not thrown away in the proper manner.
That's how we roll.
And I think we roll ok all things considerable.
So the furniture is pretty much all still there even though my cousins are supposed to come by at some point to see if they want anything and I've been texting friends and relatives to come pick up premium quality crap (read: "wholesome, useful everyday items that are totally not unused ticklers or whips because I already gave those away for a good home")for cheapskies/free. It's not really the furniture I get attached to though, it's the books. And I got a lot of books to give away. Even used book stores don't want the stuff anymore and apparently most libraries are verboten to accept donations in books.
But... it's books. One does not simply throw away books. There be information in those things! It's like throwing away food! You just don't do it man, unles you find a finger or a used condom in those. Used condom inside a fish.
Not to sound whiny about all this, but does it strike anyone else as complete insanity that there's so much perfectly useful stuff, items that are fully functional and not contagious and we're forced to throw this stuff away in most cases? I realise that manuals for Paint Shop Pro 9 are probably not really useful for anyone anymore, bar antique tech geeks, but take the washing machine for example. Y U not want my totez awesome used washing machine, world? Y?! If there was ever a moment when the amount of stuff cluttering up the world became a concrete concept, it's this. Why get a perfectly awesome, not broken, vintage couch for 10€ when you can buy a clunky new one from Ikea for 200€ even if it wont last you for 5 years because it's made of cheap materials and glued together with the tears of a child labourer. Screw you world, it matches my bleached bunghole!
You know what else is hard to get rid off that I have a metric ton of? Canned fish in tomato sauce and wooly socks. Your guess is as good as mine. You always try to prepare for a zombie apocalypse and then it never comes when you're all stocked up on canned fish and warm socks. If the zombies come right after I get this move done, I will look SO silly.
Other than that the week has been one big runaround taking clothing to charity shops and digging through the closet to find all the what-the-hell-was-I-thinking-back-then that I'm sure someone is going to be wearing ironically very soon. Tiny white tee with a light pink sparkly Superman-logo? Yeah.. remember that year when all the shirts were so short they barely covered your bewbs... that wasn't really a good look. We just did the 80's, so early 2000 is bound to be vintage by now, right?
This week I'll be mostly battling humidity, so next Sunday you can read all about how my apartment smells like ass and old liquor.
Wednesday, 10 August 2011
Oh , where to start. Let's start with the fact that this might not be the funniest thing you'll ever read. I'm so out of practise with funny that I'm like a very out of practise un-funny person. Also, it's Wednesday here, so clearly, this isn't exactly written or posted on a Sunday. So what prompted this sudden need to share in the middle of the night on a rainy Wednesday when it's pretty painfully clear that I should be getting sleep? Here's the thing: the very first post in this blog is about how a job should work (or, you know, life in general) in order for a person to be happy. You need to be able to develop in your work, you need to able to use your assets in other sense than flashing ankles/penis at people to get them to throw money at you. Even if you're not the sharpest tool in the beginners tool-set, you need to feel like you might be one because that's makes you feel appreciated and man, feelings is what it's all about mang. You need to be able to enjoy what you do. In short(-ish): Getting loads of money or even a moderate amount of money only carries you so far in life, doing the things you love, progressing in them, having goals and having people is what makes for a happy camping trip.
"I used to think two was not enough. But now things are great; there are loads of people... I don't know what Will was so pissed about. I don't think couples are the future. The way I see it now, we both got back-up now. It's like that thing Jon Bon Jovi said: 'No man is an island.' "
About A Boy
What I'm getting at is not that I've gone hardcore polyamorous. I haven't even gone hardcore monogamous. BUT, I have learned - and by god it took my thick-ass skull long enough - is that people need people to live a happy life. And that the best way to monologue about your ailments and lack of pants is by monologuing about them to someone else face to face. Then you can hug it out and you realise that pants are a pretty good deal and you should own more than one pair. And you get a hug. Hugs are pretty awesome. So you need other people to keep you sane and to meet yet more people and you can all be a giant cluster of islands that have mutual agreements on helping each other out by talking or borrowing pants or having coffee and sushi and carrying each other's furniture. That's kind of what life's composed of. I have now learned this after having been deprived of such things for several years partly because I didn't know how awesome island clusters are and partly because I live in the Devil's Butthole. I could blame it on the internets, but that would be giving the internets undue credit.
What I've also learned is that there's a reason why most jobs that would constitute as proper jobs and not slavery, have anual vacations. It's not because everyone hates their work so much that they need to get away from it as often as possible, but because you can very easily burn out doing something you enjoy if you don't know how to vacate. I mean have vacations. As in take time off. Or more precisely, regularly do something else besides work. It's not simply a yearly thing. Every day you should do something that isn't your job. And then every week, you should have a day or two of doing something that is also not your job. And every year, you should take a week or a few to go somewhere that's not even close to where you work. That does NOT mean you hate your job. It means you love yourself enough to take care of yourself.
So, getting back to today. I'm now employing my vast knowledge on How To Live Like A Human Being into Living A Happy Life And Having A Job That I Don't Hate More Than Homophobia. Ok, other people kind of maybe put me up to it, but hey, that's their job when they see that I'm not in a position of becoming a beautiful butterfly all on my own. What happened is that I've been slowly gathering up quite a bit of Heavy Crap and Stress that's been completely running my motor down. You know how it goes, first there's one giant arsenugget of a relationship, then another and then you have a nervous breakdown and then you enrol in a school that you don't like just to make some titcrumpet see you (don't do it kids, it never works) and there's (shockingly) more relationship drama and sexual incompetence that would be funny if you weren't lying under it and drinking and yadda yadda yadda... the whole hairy taco with all the garnishes. And you think that you need to deal with it all on your own, but you really didn't have to. But eh, you learn. So I have. And as I'm writing this the current situation is this:
I'm moving to Mexico at the end of this month. And then I'll be applying to study something I enjoy. And while I do this, I'll be arting with my other hand. And I will be happy because I'm not doing any of this alone but I have awesome relatives and friends who want to help out even if they can't say it in nice words. Not everyone knows how to do nice words. You learn. And you learn to listen to what people say as opposed to what you think they say.
I'm going to try to update regularly on Sundays, but I'm not promising I wont miss a day or post late. It could happen that there just aren't internet connections or some people who are supposed to write blogs could be drunk out of their arse. First up: Selling Of The Furniture! - Adventures in getting rid of your stuff