quick little check-in

things were falling apart in October and November. really glad they’re over.

Bad Habits

December is rolling out and is … so-so. I’m seeing a few bad habits trickling in as stress management for everything.

not drinking though. still clean on that. the difference from other times is that I legit wanted to be done with it. I was doing it for me, not because someone else told me too. and that’s made all the difference.

I miss the culture associated with drinking. but I don’t miss who I was when I drank. so it works out.

my psych wants me to go to an ED clinc (eating disorder clinic). I’m doing a good enough job of not letting it control me, but rather just influence me. so we’ll see.

going to a clinic means fully admitting that it’s true. by not going, I can keep pretending I don’t have a problem, right?

also part of me is tied into the “I’m too fat to have an ED” lie. I know it’s not entirely true (second have, at least), but it’s nice to hold onto while I obsess and have freak outs.

grocery shopping has gotten hard. legit started crying in the store a few weeks back because I just couldn’t function. so yeah, there’s that.


Brian’s still running a pre-made D&D campaign for Ada (his bro), my mum, and me. we’re having fun. some nights, I’m stressed out by it; other nights, I really enjoy it. yay being crazy. :/

I’m trying to arrange stuff to do outside … in the snow. everyone says being in the element more assists in tolerating it. so I’m trying that tactic this year.

I really want to do the Polar Plunge this year. it’s “a series of events where people jump into a frozen lake to support Special Olympics Minnesota”. you raise or donate $50-$75 to be able to jump. the main one is in Minneapolis, and it’s the on I’d probably end up going to. tough there’s the Maple Grove one that a not going to be as busy and isn’t a horrible drive.

anyway. the drop is supposedly just wait deep, so my head shouldn’t be underwater too long, and I won’t really have the chance to drown, lol. and here’s a quick write-up of what happens to your stupid body when your stupid brain tells it to jump into a fucking frozen lake.

so I guess that’s it for this post. I need to start wrapping up for work. it”s takes an extra ten or so minutes just to get dressed. and another 10-30 minutes if you park outside to get your car functioning. I hate this place.

reblogged: “You Won’t Find A Single Road In This Water Village”

so this is where I want to live now.

Wikie Pedia


A village, where there are no roads, no cars, no traffic, and ducks are the loudest sound you’ll hear. This is Giethoorn, in the Netherlands.

1Its first inhabitants (around 1230) found peat deposits and dug so many holes they turned into lakes and canals.


Walking paths and around 180 wooden bridges. That’s how people get around there. No roads. No cars. No traffic. Can you even imagine? duck

The village website says “the loudest sound you can normally hear is the quacking of a duck or the noise made by other birds.”4

People use “whisper boats,” which are boats with noiseless engines. There’s also a Canal Cruise by water bus. winter

The best part is that in winter when the boats can’t sail, residents just grab their ice skates to nip down the shops.


August is the busiest tourist month, in case you’re not big on crowds. The town…

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a2z: Cars

April 2015’s Blogging A to Z:


so my friend T-Boi suggested this topic.  I had considered “Alcohol” and “Booze”, and diverted from those.  “C” was the first non-liquor-related letters, so I was going to go to my next sporty obsession (in the vein of biking) via “canoeing”.  but T-Boi suggested “cars” — because, boy howdy, do I have some stories….


I got my driver’s permit when I was 16 (one year late) because I was scared of being behind the murdering beast called a “vehicle”.  I learned to drive in my mom’s Kia Sephia and my dad’s Chevy truck, both of which were standards.

so, a year later when I took my driver’s license test, they have me hop in this stupid little PT Cruiser (circa 2003).  and it was an automatic.  I sat int he driver’s seat thinking, “okay, James, you’ve written many reports on cars and how they work because of how much you love them, so just think — how do automatics work — do should you do to start it??”  but before I finished, the tester asks, “are you okay?”

“yeah, I’m fine,” I answer.  “I, uh … I just don’t know how to start it.”

“YOU DON’T KNOW HOW TO START A CAR?!?!”  and it was evident the woman thought she was going to die in the next ten minutes.

“no, no, no.  I just, uh … I don’t know how to start an automatic.  I’ve only driven standards.”

“….”  SHE STARED AT ME FOR-FUCKING-EVER.  “you drive a standard????”


“oh.”  she recovered.  “you just crank it.”


“yeah, just crank it.  just hold the brakes and turn the key.  you keep it in the same gear the whole time.”

the SAME GEAR???”


I do so.  and the whole time I was driving, I would occasionally whisper not-so-quietly, “this is SO AWESOME, and so easy.”

anyway.  so that’s how I got my license.
so I get my first car.  which is *actually* just an excuse for my parents to buy a van.  it was 1990 Plymouth Grand Voyager (again, this was in 2003, so it was already 13-years-old).  it looked like this, KINDA:

the difference is that mine wasn’t pretty white with the wood-grain; it was piss-yellow with a similarly stained wood-grain.  ::sighs::

I named her the Dragon, and decorated her with appropriate stickers and interior pieces.  however, come my early college years, I was the person to drive everyone around.  (I lived in one city, worked in a city over 90 minutes south from my home,went to school between the two, and dated a guy 60 minutes north of my home.  also, on every road trip, I was the driver because my van held the most people.  so yeah, I was always the driver.)  as such, that also meant on small trips, I was still the fucking driver.  my dad is a professional 18-wheeler driver.  he’s been doing it since I could walk.  so watching him growing up, and learning from him — driving is a first-nature experience to me.  all of these things combined meant I WAS ALWAYS THE DRIVER.  that also meant I always drove.  which meant I got rather bored of driving quickly.  which meant I needed to make it interesting.

I eventually mastered many tricks in this van, though my majestic drifting of it got me the most attention.  fans called her the Daring (or Dangerous) Dragon; others called her the Death Machine.  O_o  either way, she was rather famous.

her door fell of while driving at one point; she caught on fire several times; she would randomly stop in the middle of traffic; speed limits were optional; we learned that though the specs said she topped out at 100mph, that wasn’t at all true; et cetera, et cetera.  she was my freedom.  she was how I managed my manias.  (but oh jebus, the speeding tickets!!)

eventually she died.  my next car was a Honda Civic something-X.  sedan, no sun-roof.  but Honda and long-lasting.  Belle Star, was her name.  bright red beauty.  cowboy themed shit everywhere.  she was gorgeous.  she was the first vehicle *I* owned.  the van technically was a family vehicle.  but Belle was fucking mine.

after many, many years, she went inactive after an accident.  but we still use her for parts, because overall she’s still good.

for the last few years (Feb 2012 – last week), I had my 1998 Honda Civic XS (had a sunroof) — the Chameleon.  he was green, but he would look black in other lights.  he was my second male vehicle (my temporary motorcycle was Baldr).  he even had his own theme-song: “Don’t Bother None” from the Cowboy Bebop soundtrack.  he taught me to just let go and move on.

but he died just last week.  um, due to stuff and things.  (my dad’s mechanic friend says it was because my buddy down-shifting on him poorly.  I think a large part of the problem is that it’s a fucking 17-year-old car with a shit-ton of miles on it!!!  but you know, whatever, Daddy always knows best.)

anyway.  so now all I have is my bike; and occasionally borrowing Brian or my mom.

but yeah, that was much less interesting than I planned.  I wanted to tell about all the cars-blowing-up and random-pieces-falling-off and doors-totally-not-staying-attached stories that I have.  but honestly, that could be a novella in itself alone….



a2z: Bicycling

coming in rather late on these next few. but as you all know probably know by now, I don’t keep to patterns and schedules well on the weekend. sorry about that. however, I’m great at least-minute stuff. so here we go!!



April 2015’s Blogging A to Z:


I fucking LOVE my bicycle.  no matter which one at any time, I loved it.  it was my freedom.  driving my car was great, but the frame got in the way.  the only thing better than my bike was my other bike, my motorcycle.  but due to reasons regarding the person from whom I was purchasing it, that fell through and I was left with just my non-motorised two-wheeler.

but I love it.  I love everyone I’ve ever had.  and damn, because of how much I ride, I’ve gone through many a bike over the years.  or they get stolen.  that happens a lot too.

right now, my currents beastie is an Ozone 500 Fragment mountain bike — although my tires are 27″, not 29″, because I’m not that fucking tall, lol.  I mean, I very actively like taller bikes; but 29″ is a little too much for me, heh.  so I downgraded to the 27″.  moreover, it was a little scuffed up when we purchased it, so we got a 20$ or so discount.

it’s 21 speeds and the frame is 606 alloy.  I wish I could remember the exact weight; but know this, at least: it’s not fucking much.  like seriously, this is the lightest heavy-looking bike I’ve encountered.  moreover, it’s the lightest bike of its size I’ve ever encountered.  initially, I was worried that meant a lack of stability and endurance of the the frame.  but it’s put up with me so far!!

I got it as a very early Christmas present in October from my dad when my previous bike (an old had-not-been-used-in-over-three-years hand-me-down bike) got stolen.  Dad decided it was time again for me to own a new one.

and I love it.

I tend to make my bike look like a fucking Christmas tree, on account of the fact no one around here fucking sees bikers or pedestrians.  so I have a front light, two back lights, and a light on at least one spoke of each wheel (on of which can even be programed to spell out words and such).  then, I also have my reflector jacket, my reflector helmet, and some lights I wear on my arms and legs.

the last time I got attacked by a car while on my bike was this past summer at night.  I’m taking extra precautions to make sure that doesn’t happen again.

so, especially while I have neither a car nor a license (ooh, I forgot to tell you about my two most recent car-falling-apart stories!), my bike will be my way to get around.

and I fucking love it.