| |- Saturday, February 15, 2003 -| |
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orazzio @ 10:21 PM #
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Valentines day, Another popped hamstring.
I could walk ok. I thought it was all good. I played some basketball, scored some points, came jogging back from the ring and BANG! There goes the leg again. Another popped hamstring.
Sigh.
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orazzio
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| |- Friday, February 14, 2003 -| |
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orazzio @ 4:10 PM #
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Its Valentine's Day.
A Hallmark holiday. 'Nuff said.
It seems almost all holidays were 'manufactured' but none so commerically then Valentines day, a chance for hallmark to inject sales into an arid area of card buying that strecthes from Christmas to Easter.
I organised my Valentines day a long time ago (yes I AM participating, its one of the perks of hipcorasy). I booked a restaurant weve been meaning to attend for a long time. The affair includes 3 Courses dispersed amongst entertainers, romantic interludes and dancing into a ceaseless night.
This particular venue has the heart of classic romanticisim. No longer can you go for dinner and dancing unless you roll up your sleeves at a tacky discoteque after a night of intimacy. Its never like in the movies, where that roaring 20s class and brass tinges the classiest of venues, but it is that dynamic that every romantic desires.
Unfortunately due to other commitments the night had to be cancelled. I was the first to book for Valentines Day and I had to let someone else on the waiting list take up the night of magic that Id promised to myself.
A workmate of my partner was continually badgering her boyfriend about wanting to go to a steakhouse. He kept insisting that it wasnt romantic enough. Eventually my partner got the taste for a steakhouse and followed suit. So its off to a steakhouse we go - her idea not mine.
It got me thinking about a common dilemma in our society. That of gender roles. I have no pre disposed views on the topic only one of the confusion which is common to our times. It seems more and more you see the efeminity of the male, whilst the female of our society are entirely emsaculated.
Its a very broad and complex subject with some poisoning concepts to peoples contemporary or traditional beleifs. The end result of our gender modernity is not androgeny but a schizophrenic reaction to ourselves, our sexuality and our gender roles.
Women complain about being misunderstood and wish for someone who is in touch with them and themsleves yet subscribe to diatribes about the traditional male stereotype. Macho, unforgiving, coarse and preferably rich famous and powerful. The alpha male if you like. We see it in gangs on the streets and we see it in celebrity. Women always fall at the feet of the alpha male the all powerful media mogul, sports star or pub brawler yet cry to be understood? The men who understand never recieve this brand of attention or respect. They are the nice guys who finsih last. They fulfill the gay best friend roles that become vacant due to homosexuality being a minority group.
So what are we to do? As men do we empower ourselves with selfish acts of authority? As women do we continue to subscribe the same brand of elitism that using our bodies and social status?
One thing is for sure. It is no longer a time to open a door for a lady. Why? Because ladies are extinct below the age of our grandparents. And because it by showing a lady such a respect it is seen as demeaning to women or worse still an act of sexual advancement.
A hint for the guys - dont buy flowers - its demeaning to women. Ask them in this age of so called equality where your flowers are and why the hell they arent paying you a county cheque when you kick her ass the curb. Before she goes. Make sure you get them chocolates too.
It is my advice to say that our place is to be who we are. If it is unapreciable to anyone else or the community at large, then bollocks to you.
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orazzio
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| |- Tuesday, February 11, 2003 -| |
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orazzio @ 2:11 PM #
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Reitirating Remy's Blog
Although I have lost the commerical interest in sport I used to be an explosive fan whose passion for it could never be quenched. I realsied recently that this passion was not for the sport at all - after all sport is just another corrupt often empty experience like most entertainment can become. Like film or art it lowers its standards to appeal to the masses and subsequently loses its meaning. Recently I learnt that this passion of mine did not stand alone in my phsyche. That it was an extension or a reminder of the joy of participating. But thats another blog. Suffice to say, I was always a sports nut and unlike my unpatriotic peers I supported the same teams since birth. I neve sold out, never changed teams never lost the fight. I know how it is to struggle, in fact it defined me growing up. I didnt need a team that 'won' like everybody else. Teams that one had no growth, no future and usually no soul. It was mass commercialism at its grosest for people to support Manchester United or hte Chicago Bulls. It says that you arent a sports fan at all but somebody who has an empty life and a degree of arrogance that needs to be falsely fed. You dont take what it takes to win. So you buy a jersey that says you are a winner.
My partner is an equally big self confessed sports nut probably worse then I am. Her teams oppose mine in most cases but like me she would never switch she is die hard against me but its her conviction that makes me beleive in her teams just as much.
I on the other hand needed teams that struggled for a win, perhaps would never have more than a single shot at a cup or a flag, because thats reality. It was reality in my own sports career and indeed in my own life.
We wont become millionares, we wont be famous, we wont conquer world hunger. We might win a track meet or become the boss or create something that has some celebrity in our community. Our victories are small victories but they are triumphs for us. They are triumphs because we invest so much of our time our sweat and our self into making them happen. And this is the true victory of a worthwhile life.
Something tells me to empathise with Remy's Blog, something else tells me to leave it along. I guess the truth of the matter is you cant really understand that feeling of loneliness unless the day is coming or is happening.
I always feel alone on birthdays, christmas' valentines days and easters in that order of depression. The funny part with me though is I usually had a girlfriend or girlfriends, stacks of friends and a social life bursting at the seems. But somehow when the fatal day came I would always feel loneliness and self pity. Still do. Only I am fortunate that perhaps things will change for me. I read Remy's blog and it reminded me of a birthday not too long ago when my phone rang at work as it constantly did and it was a friend of mine.
She told me that she wanted to see me. I started telling her that i didnt have time (as usual) which was depressingly true but she cut me off. She told me that she was already out the back and only needed to see me for five minutes. Now five minutes to most people often takes hours but she stressed the FIVE so I believed her.
I went outside and there was my friend who I felt the world for with a present as big as her. Something about the size of a big present is falttering. It makes you blush with modesty. Something else about a big present (id never had one before) suggests it may be empty as Remy suggested earlier. Meaningless.
I ripped off the paper and there was this massive executive style darkwood plaquard with a gold embost plate. Inside was my favourite teams jersey. The team where i was born and that I have supported all my life. It was a special jersey, worth a lot because it was the start of a new era when my team had amalgamated with a neighbouring team and changed there uniform design. It was also special because it was autographed by every last player in this landmark team.
I was speechless.
She drove a 3 hour round trip to give it to me.
I walked into the dark and kissed her like I meant it. And in perhaps five minutes she was gone.
She is now my fiance and she is more than happy to see the plaque hang in our home when we marry. She had bidded for it at auction and paid exhorbadently for it. She gave me so much of herself in that present that it was a birthday that Id never forget.
Some people say that life isnt about days, its about moments. Its true if you think about it. That was one of them.
Perhaps my loneliness has been taken away from. Perhaps that hole in my heart has been cemented with devotion.
Like Remy its a secret. Some people announce it so they can recieve false adulation. Falso adulation is no adulation at all. I guess his story reminded me that for the first time in 30 years, someone will suprise me just by being part of my life.
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orazzio
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orazzio @ 1:28 PM #
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80's Hit
"You either win or lose,
It's the chance you take, when the heat's on you"
Glen Fry
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orazzio
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| |- Monday, February 10, 2003 -| |
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snorky @ 9:43 PM #
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Ok. So it was my birthday today. Twenty Five, the big Two Five, a quarter century, 4 past 21. However you look at it, my life hasn't changed much. I'm still as clueless as I was when turned 10. I still think, in general, people are good, aspire to be good or want to be seen as good. I'm still trying to decide what I want to do when I grow up.
Every birthday I try to hide it as long as I can. Today was no different. Work was as lame as usual and I wasn't having a fun day at all. I guess my self imposed depression, that happens every birthday, helped contribute to my un-fun day. As for the happy parts, first off the mark was my mother with the happy birthday call. Second was Orazzio (with his rendition of "Happy Birthday Mr President", thanks mate) and third was a mutual friend of Orazzio and myself. My oldest sister was forth but it was only an sms and my other sister just plain forgot (she's like that though, so no hard feelings). Not much happened until around 5:15pm this afternoon when one of the staff was going through her diary and found she had written my birthday down. She announced the day to the whole office (only about 12 people).
It didn't really bother me much. However, I was quite happy in my depressed state. But eventually most off the office had wished be a happy birthday and I went to the local pub for a beer with a couple of them. We talked about work and when we are all going to quit and who will be next to quit (someone quit today, hence the subject matter).
This conversation helped me to realise that i'm still having trouble deciding what to do with my life. I get paid enough money, too much in fact and word on the street is I may be getting a pay rise, figure that out. I've also come to realise that money in not my motive in life, I thought it was, but it isn't. I just want to be happy. I want to experience things. I want to live a full life without regrets. I want to be wise.
Slowly i'm moving closer to formulating a plan for the year ahead and possibly longer. I'll let you all know when i've got it sorted out. Now to other matters. Why should I get depressed on my birthdays? I can tell you now with full confidence that i'm not scared of getting older. I don't fear old age nor do I fear death. My only fear is that of being alone. Birthdays are a good way to gauge how "alone" you are by counting the number of people that make contact with you with out you having to remind them. The people that need reminding don't understand that I don't want presents. Presents these days are empty anyway. You usually know what you are going to get so I care not for presents. I appreciate presents that required thought and were perhaps even home made. But all I really want is to not be alone.
I guess i'm always waiting for someone to supprise me on my birthday, someone whom I didn't expect to call perhaps. I know I don't seem enthusiastic when attending family gathering but at the very least I no longer feel alone. My friends are my only connection to sanity in this world. Without them there isn't much point. Suffice it to say, I wasn't supprised by any mystery callers today.
So, I sit here typing up this blog with a barrel load of self pity, wishing that I wasn't alone right now. It's good to feel bad every now and then I guess, other wise you never learn to appreciate how good "good" feels when you get it.
Besides it's my birthday and i'll do what I want!
It's time for my depressing birthday dinner of Macadamia nuts and vanilla yogurt now. I'll be funnier next time I blog. Promise. Maybe. Well i'll try my best.
Places to go:
Bowling for Columbine
Great documentry. If you haven't seen it then go now. At the very least go download the "Brief history of America" from the site above. It's a classic. Well if you are a redneck or a small minded bigot you may prefer to kiss my arse. Then again to show i'm not intolerant you can go here and talk to some of you're inbred friends.
Dumpster diving: an Introduction
An interesting read if you have ever considered doing it. You no doubt come to understand how wasteful the human race really is.
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orazzio @ 1:53 AM #
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Housing commission
Want to know how a vicious circle works? Government housing. If you have 6 children to seventeen possible fathers and you are currently celebrating your seventeenth birthday then it is highly possible that apart from alimony, county cheques, maintenance, family assistance, support pensions and sole parent benefits you will probably be given a house by the government to safely house your bastardized family and safely sell the previous fathers homes for dope money. Ok so this is completley cruel and does not in any way reflect those who truly battle and wait endlessly in line for any or all of the above support. But Im not talking about you, Im talking about the 'system'. The 'system' that gives the mother the right to turf a father onto to the learn get a letter from the courts to restrain him from the same metroplitan area if neccessary yet make sure he pays every dollar to her (not the children) for the rest of his natural born life while she sits at home and watches Rikki.
So the children grow up without knowing or feeling the guidance of parental care or any knowledge of the family unit. They are kicked out so the mother can get it on with possible father 49 while the kids find ways to make pretty pictures with spray cans and get each other pregnant.
So by the time they learn to read, usually around eleven (or seventeen depending on the area) they too are lining up for county cheques and are waiting for public housing. An aquintance of mine called it a self proliferating circle which we all know results in demand for public housing far oustripping supply no matter how many millions the government try and inject into the problem. Or as I said earlier, a finite definition of the 'viscious circle'.
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orazzio
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orazzio @ 1:41 AM #
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People of the State
Its time for another State election soon. Well except that there is a totalitarian state at the moment so its only a pretend election to satisfy the proliteriate's right to freely express themselves with the vote. Hardly works when there is only one side running though hey? Ok fine there is a nice guy with a nice haircut going for opposition but as sure as night will fall so will no politician lead the state unless they have the physical attributes of a burn victem. The current leader has successfuly manipulated the media away from the corruption, cover ups and whistle blowing that is characteristic of his government and equally odorous henchmen and more important than all of that is uglier than a case of haemrrhoids. Only a man whose face is often mistaken for decrepid overheated scrotum could truly lead our (police) state into the true debt death and turmoil that he and his dollar jiggi - jig wife could manage.
God save us, Queen.
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orazzio
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