Moving On

Well, Christmas is behind us and a new year is right around the corner. Today holds its own significance for me, though.

It's moving day.

I moved into my apartment two and a half years ago. I was looking to move out of my brother's house and have my own place to live. My friend Aimée told me about a vacancy in the apartment next to hers. A quick chat with the landlady and a security deposit later, and I was the proud tenant of a two-story townhouse.

Moving in, I never really thought of the place as anything more than a place to rest my head. I figured I'd hang out with Aimée a bit more, and that would be about it. Looking back on it now, I'm surprised by all the fond memories I have of this place.

I can remember my first Thanksgiving here. My sister lives out of town with her husband and my dad, stepmom, and little brother are all typically out of town for the holiday, so it's usually my brother, my mom, and myself. I offered to host the event that year. I didn't cook the traditional Thanksgiving meal, but we had food and it was good. This was the first time I cooked for people in my new place.

I can remember the first Super Bowl I watched here, though to say I watched it would be generous. I'd typically go to my dad's to hang out and watch the game, but opted to stay home this time. Aimée came over and hovered over my shoulder as she had me watch the first episode of City Hunter, my first experience with Korean drama shows.

I can remember my struggles with pest control. The area is plagued with water bug/beetle things and it wasn't uncommon for them to make their way inside during the winter months. Sure, they sprayed annually, and sure the bugs would die, but they'd make it inside first. I didn't always wait for the poison to take effect. Then there was the first (and only) time a mouse got in the house. I was on my couch, watching TV, when I saw movement scurry across the floor. A couple strategically placed traps later, and I no longer had a roommate.

I can remember the harrowing tales of my neighbor's cat escaping the confines of her home. One of Aimée's cats developed an affinity for the outdoors and we spent one particular afternoon hunting it down in the ditch next to the apartment complex. I tumbled down the embankment, landing in the water below. After we finally coaxed him out of a drainpipe, I'd end up falling and impaling my hand on a rock. It was also the time I bought my very own first aid kit. He'd later get out again later, this time without anyone's knowledge. It wasn't until one of the other neighbors asked me if the cat looked familiar that anyone knew he had gotten out. My friend wouldn't be home for a few hours, so I ended up cat sitting for the interim.

I can remember Halloween, when Aimée came over to work on a cosplay costume, which involved cutting an awful lot of fake fur material. Once it was all said and done, it looked like a cat had exploded in my living room. To this day, I still find tufts of fur.

I can remember my parents giving me their old grill and learning how to use it for the first time. Mom would later come over for her birthday and I would grill chicken for her and my brother. Despite never having done it before, it turned out well.

I can remember having Stacie and Rob, a couple friends from out of town stay over. I'd never really had guests stay over before, so it was fun staying up late, playing games, watching TV, and just rambling on. We hung out on my back patio while I took another attempt at grilling.

Those are just a few of the memories I have. I have others, but I think I'll save those for myself.

Anyway, this year, I decided that it was time to move. The rent was higher than I'd prefer for a long term living situation. Rather than hold out for a potential raise from work, or find a second job, it seemed like a better idea to just move. So, today, I'm packing up my stuff and saying goodbye.

Thanks to everyone who helped make this place feel more like a home. I'll always treasure the memories.

Working the Annual Christmas Party

A couple years ago, I helped a friend of mine out by working at her boss's Christmas party. (Actually, that sounds like I'm doing my friend the favor. Since it's a paying gig, really, they're doing me the favor, as money is always tight around Christmas).

It was my first time doing something like this so, to be perfectly honest, I was terrified. I'm not really a people person, I don't do well with strangers, I tend to panic in large crowds, I've never worked in the food service industry, take your pick on what might make me uncomfortable.

When I was hired, I was told I'd probably be parking cars. I know how to point and I wouldn't have to deal with a lot of people outside of "please park to the left", so this sounded like my dream job. Since I'd be outside in the cold, all I needed was some black pants and my black jacket, to make sure I was easy to run over in the dark. My friend loaned me a pair of gloves, and I made sure to wear a second pair of socks, to keep my feet warm. I was prepared.

We arrived to the party and the boss started handing out our jobs. They had enough help with car parking (uh oh), so I was to help my friend with the bar (UH OH). Again, I've never worked in the food industry, and dealing with people are not my strong points. Add to that, I could probably count the number of mixed drinks I've had on both of my hands with fingers left over. Then it was clarified that I would be basically keeping an eye on the bar and making sure wine and drinks were in good supply and fetching anything the bartenders would need. I've played go-fer for my dad on...well, pretty much every job I've worked with him on, so we're playing to my strengths again.

Someone shows me where all the excess stock is located and then the guests start to arrive.

I have been invited to two parties over the course of my years (three, if you count my surprise birthday party). One was fresh out of high school, when alcohol and I were not on speaking terms, making it a rather dull experience for myself, and the other was a birthday party that a friend supposedly threw for me, which was the saddest party ever thrown. This party was unlike either of those experiences.

For starters, there was a ton of people there. And despite the size of the house, they were all congregating around the bar.

And the strange thing is, despite my lack of any social skills, and how busy, noisy, and crowded it was, I actually had fun. I enjoyed people watching. I got to know a couple of the other folks who were helping a bit better. And on some subtle level, I developed an appreciation for football.

There were times where I would need to fetch a bottle of wine from storage, with a mob of people separating me from my goal. Since clubbing the party-goers with the bottle of wine was frowned upon, that meant slipping past them, clinging to the bottle like a football. By the end of the night, I was quite good at it.

So, yeah, it was a memorable experience. And despite the frustrations that come with the job, it was one that I was happy to do again.

Christmas Time

It's December, which means it's finally Christmas season.

Well, for some, Christmas season started in October.

I don't like Christmas.

Well, I should clarify. I like the spirit of Christmas. I like having time off from work. Time I can use to visit with my family. Time I can spend at my Mom's house, visiting with her. Time I can spend at my Dad's house, visiting with him, my stepmom, and my little brother. Time I can spend with my older brother, and my sister and her husband. Time I can even spend with my extended family that I don't see much throughout the year. Time I can spend with my friends and loved ones.

What I don't like is the commercial behemoth that Christmas has become.

Every year, the Christmas holiday season arrives earlier and earlier. It's not uncommon now to see Christmas decorations sitting on store shelves in September. And as the seasonal juggernaut rumbles to life, it proceeds to suck all the joy, and togetherness, and love from the holiday.

Time normally spent with your loved ones is instead spent wandering from store to store looking for the perfect gift for them. The roads and stores become clogged with people and tempers are at an all-time high. They pump Christmas music over the in-store speakers and on the radio to try to instill some Christmas spirit in everyone, but its jarring to hear such uplifting music as you yell at your fellow man.

Sung to the tune of O Come All Ye Faithful

So, in the end, it kind of just spoils the mood for me.

Why I'm Thankful

As November draws to a close, Americans set aside the last Thursday of the month to celebrate Thanksgiving, a day dedicated to eating, shopping, football, and maybe, just maybe, being thankful for the blessings in one's life.

What do we have to be thankful for? Typically, we give thanks for the blessings in our life. The pay raises we received, the good news the doctor delivered, finding the remote control, things of that nature. But who is to say that we should only be thankful for the positive outcomes in our life?

I believe each person is the product of every decision they've made and situation they've encountered, be them good or bad. They all add up, like puzzle pieces, to create the image of who we are.

As humans, we learn lessons from our mistakes. We grow stronger from the hardships that we endure. So, shouldn't we celebrate and be thankful for these moments as well?

This year, I want to express my gratitude for the people who have had an impact on my life, both positive and negative, as each and every one of them has had an impact on my becoming the man I am today.

My parents. You raised me. You taught me to be a better person and to stand up for what I think is right. You worked hard to provide for me. You taught me to fend for myself, but also not to feel ashamed if I need to ask for help. You taught me to work hard and take pride in whatever I do, no matter how small or insignificant it may seem. You've always believed in me, even when I couldn't believe in myself. Even when I go down a different path than you would chose for me, you've always been proud of me and supported me. Thank you.

My grandma. You're not with us anymore, but you played just as big a role in raising me as my parents. You always provided a place for us to stay after school or over the summer. We were always welcome in your home. You taught us to be thankful and to have faith, no matter how rough life got. You always gave for us, even when you couldn't afford to give anymore. There's not a day that goes by that I don't miss you. Thank you.

My brother Charles. You were perhaps my first friend. Growing up, I looked up to you, as is typical of a younger brother. Though we fought like any sibling, you always had my back when it came to the rest of the world. When it came time to move away from home, you welcomed me into your house and have since offered the same hospitality when I needed a place to stay. Thank you.

My sister Casey. Sure, we may not have gotten along much growing up, but when we were little, you were my voice when I couldn't speak. Now that we're older and I have my own voice, you still find ways to show that you care, which I will always appreciate. Thank you.

My brother Jacob. I've watched you grow up and helped take care of and raise you. When you were little, you idolized me and in many ways, we were best friends. You gave my life purpose where I could never find any before. Thank you.

My cousin Trey. You've been the relative I've probably spent the most time with outside of my parents. We share a lot of interests, and you are always interested in hanging out with no preference on what we do. Thank you.

My cousin Rachel. You used to take care of us when we were growing up. We haven't hung out a lot in recent times, but we share a similar mindset. You've shown a willingness to talk with me and offer advice when I'm troubled, for which I will always be appreciative. Thank you.

My friend Aimée. You were probably the first real friend I ever had. You taught me that I don't have to be content with people using me and abusing me just for the sake of having a friend. You encouraged me to try new things and to broaden my horizons. When I had my blood pressure scare, you supported me and helped me cope with the changes I had to make in my life. We may not always agree on things, but you will always be my friend. Thank you.

My friends Stacie and Rob. Though we've only recently started hanging out, I feel like you guys have been a part of my life for years. You understand how my mind works and have been tremendous help in me figuring out how to interact with the rest of the world. You've always shown a willingness to listen to my life story and share in my ups and downs. You helped me continue to seek out new experiences and have helped me come out of my shell more than I would have thought possible. Because of you, I don't feel quite so alone anymore. Thank you.

My friend Cliff. You reached out to me to become my friend. Though we don't always see eye-to-eye on things, you encourage me to continue growing as a person and to not let the negative things in my life get me down. Thank you.

My coworkers Richie, Rocky, and Margie. You taught me that work doesn't have to be serious and that we can have fun while still being productive. Though we don't hang out outside the office and though we may not always get along, I still consider you friends. Thank you.

Scott and Joe. Though we aren't friends now, you helped me get through a tough time at work, when they had us rotating shifts and I suddenly found myself cut off from my normal social circle. Hanging out with you guys opened the door for me to meet new people and establish more lasting friendships. The way you treated me taught me to be more conscientious of my actions and how others might perceive them. Thank you.

And those are just a few of the people who have played a role in my life. I could fill this post with the names of other family, friends, coworkers, loved ones, and people that have touched my life and guided my path to where I am now. I appreciate them all and thank them all for their mark on my life.

But I think that's enough self-reflection on my part. I welcome you all to take a moment from your day to reflect on the people who have steered your paths and touched your lives.

Then resume bludgeoning your neighbor to death for that last HD TV at the door buster sale at Walmart.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Man in the Box

As a self-diagnosed introvert, I've never really found it comfortable or easy to interact with other people (as we've discussed a time or two). Growing up, it didn't seem so hard, as I don't really recall having problems talking to other people, though I never really had a lot of friends. But the older I've gotten, the more difficult it has gotten to just have a normal conversation with people. As you could imagine, this makes it hard to make new friends, or go on dates, or even something as simple as making idle conversation with the cashier at the grocery store.

I don't know what the problem is and it's hard to describe. It's like there's a barrier separating me from the rest of the world, like I'm trapped in a box.

I can see what's going on around me. I can interact with other people. There's just something between us that keeps me from really understanding them and vice versa. So, rather than talk, I mostly observe and listen. It happens all the time, be it when I'm sitting at work, listening to my coworkers talk about a TV show they watched recently, or when I visit family and listen to them talk about work, and home, and life in general.

It makes for awkward social encounters. People can tell that I am not behaving like everyone else, as if they can actually see the box that I'm sitting in. Think about this: the average person is walking down the street and sees a man sitting in a box. Do they ask him why he's sitting in the box or do they look straight ahead and walk past him? Most people would just keep walking. I'm not sure which is worse, the ones who walk past, or the ones who try to help.

In the past, I've had people try to help me by forcing me to be social. I'm not opposed to meeting new people. In fact, it's something I really want to do. It's just the approaches aren't always suited towards my rather fragile mindset. Once, a friend invited me along with him on a road trip to the mountains, where we'd be going to a Renaissance Fair. I've never been to one before, so I was interested in the idea. Of course, then he described the travel arrangements to me. We'd set off a good three or four days before the fair, making stops along the way to the homes of a bunch of his other friends, making use of their hospitality for our overnight accommodations. This bothered me for a few reasons.

First of all, I felt like I'd be asking perfect strangers to let me stay on their couch for the night. I'm not comfortable asking my closest family and friends for help or favors, so asking acquaintances, friend-of-a-friends and people I've never met fall deep within the "Brian's not comfortable" territory.

Second, the only thing I'd have in common with all of the people we'd be surrounded with is our one mutual friend. And since the whole point of the trip was for him to get reacquainted with all these familiar faces from his past, I felt like I'd more or less spend the entire trip listening to a bunch of people reminisce about stories that I had no context for, which lands me back in the outsider territory where I'm just watching other people interact and have fun.

Still, it was nice to be invited along, but I politely declined the offer. And a lot of the other social gatherings I've been invited to over the years have more or less played out the same way. Someone with their heart in the right place invites me along to an event without really thinking how I might take it, because they can't really see the way I see the world. Again, it's a nice gesture, and one that I appreciate, but it feels like throwing me into the deep end of the swimming pool and telling me that I'll figure out how to swim.

That's why I've been thankful for the friends I've found over the past year. They're people who can appreciate and understand my mindset, my social anxiety, and where I'm coming from. Maybe they've encountered people like me before, or maybe they've spent time trapped in their own box. Whatever the case, they've been far more patient and understanding when it comes to easing me into new social settings than other people I've known. When the typical response is to try to upend the box and dump me out, its far more comforting to have people who don't treat you like there's something wrong with you and just treat you like a friend.

---

Customer Service

I recently changed service providers for my cellphone. I walked into the US Cellular store to ask a question about my bill, mainly why it was so high. I have a single line plan that I barely use (convenient, since the coverage area for US Cellular is ridiculously small), but I was paying nearly $100 a month to have it. And that's with an apparent discount from my employer! I had seen several plans on their website that seemed far more affordable and better suited for my needs, so I wanted to look into downgrading to one of these plans. I found myself annoyed immediately, since the store was packed. So, I end up waiting nearly half an hour before I get to the front of the line. I tell her my problem and ask if there's a cheaper plan I can switch to. She tells me that I'm on the cheapest plan they offer. I point out that there's a sign on her desk advertising cheaper plans than what I'm paying. She tells me that those are only if you're part of a business. Alternately, I could get on a multi-line plan, which individually would be cheaper. I'm single and live alone, so I don't exactly have someone to split a bill with. And starting my own business seems like a lot of work just to get a smaller phone bill. So, I tell the woman that I'm just going to look for another service provider. My customer service representative couldn't care less, so I leave.

So, I go home and I look up service providers. Verizon offers plans more in my price range and better suited for my needs. So I chat with a customer service representative online (my preferred way of dealing with customer service) and figure out the plan that best works for me. This woman was much friendlier and far more helpful than the person I had just dealt with, which was a bonus. In the end, I go to the local Verizon store and switch providers with minimal hassle.

While I was going through the whole process, it made me reflect on some of the customer service experiences I've had.

In a roundabout way, I work in customer service. As one of our duties, we have to cover the help desk during the off hours. Typically, you do not catch people at their best moment when they have to call the help desk. So, I can appreciate that people tend to not be in the best of moods or that they might react to an inability to help rather poorly. As such, I try to maintain my temper when dealing with customer service representatives, because I also understand that they are just the face of the problem and that they rarely have a lot to do with whatever the solution may be.

That being said, some customer service representatives I've dealt with seem to go out of their way to make the problem, and the whole experience much worse. I think the all time worst experience I've had with customer service was when I was trying to upgrade my cable service.

I live in an apartment, and one of the perks is that basic cable is offered as part of the rental agreement. I have an HD TV and was looking to upgrade my service and perhaps add on a DVR. I had previously added cable internet to my service with no issue, so I wasn't expecting much of a hassle. I chatted with a representative online and determined that it would be a minimal change to my bill, and that I could get TiVo for not much more than that. So, I went to Suddenlink's local office to do the actual upgrade. At this point, I learned that TiVo is such a sophisticated piece of technology that requires a technician to come install it for you, so I couldn't take my new TiVo home with me and instead had to set up an appointment. I pick a time that I'm not at work and prepare for the wait. The technician arrives at a reasonable time and I am wowed by his extensive training as he proceeds to plug one hole in the box to the wall and plug the other hole to my TV and leaves. I regret not taking notes.

A week passes, and I start to learn how the TiVo works and I enjoy the service. Then, I start getting messages from the device saying I need to register the device or it will stop working. Well, the highly skilled technician didn't say anything about that. So, I go to Suddenlink's website, hop on the chat function and report the problem. They tell me that I need to go to TiVo's website to activate the device. Suddenlink sold the device to me, but fine, whatever. So I go to TiVo's website. I punch in the device number, and it says that for this particular device, I need to get Suddenlink to register it. That's not what Suddenlink said, but okay, whatever. So, I go to Suddenlink's website and jump back on the chat function.

I spend 20-30 minutes chatting with someone who ultimately decides that the problem with my TiVo is that I don't have an email address assigned to my Suddenlink account. I beg to differ, as I receive my bill via email each month and I find it hard to believe that this happens through the magic of the internet, but rather because I entered my email address in a box somewhere and they assigned it to my account. But, if it will fix the TiVo, fine, here is my email address again. I'm told it will take 24 hours for the update in information to trickle down to the device, so give it a day or two to see if the problem clears up.

It didn't.

So, I call Suddenlink. I spend 45 minutes on hold before I ever talk to a technician. During this time, I listen to the same static-garbled song repeated continuously, interrupted every minute by a recording reminding me that my call is important to them. I was glad to hear this, because I'd hate to think what sort of treatment they give to the customers whose calls are not important to them. When i finally reach an actual person on the phone, they start with the standard "did you try turning it off and back on?" nonsense that you open all support calls with. They also had me try all the things I had previously tried, such as going to the TiVo website. I'm skeptical that it would magically work on a 5th attempt, but I still follow their instructions, and lo and behold, the TiVo is still broken. So, I'm placed on hold again while my customer service rep calls TiVo's customer service line. My only regret is that he had a direct line to TiVo and didn't have to be placed on hold.

About 20 minutes later, my support guy comes back and says that they have everything resolved and that I should be able to log into TiVo's website now. That....wasn't the problem I called with. But I guess they mean now I can register the device on TiVo's website, so let me try that. Nope, still can't do it. So, I go back on Suddenlink's chat function. Now, at this point, I've used the chat function enough where I can just type all the information that they request without being asked. Here's my name, my address, my phone number, and my pin. (It baffles me that they request all these things, since you have to key them all in when you're opening up the chat window to begin with, which also baffles me that you'd have to do that at all, considering you're logged into the website!) Well, the customer service rep I talk to this time suggests that I call the number that TiVo gives me. The number for Suddenlink.

Ultimately, it is determined that the source of my problem is that my TiVo device was registered to a different account. Great, so just edit the database and make the device point to my account. They can't do that. Instead, they need to send a technician out to replace my TiVo with a new one. I'm tempted to tell them that the technician will be picking it up in pieces, but settle for pointing out the sheer idiocy of a system that cannot be edited in any way. Apparently when you order a TiVo, it follows you to the grave, because no one else can use that box once its been registered to you. So, they make an appointment for the technician to come out to my house the next day between 4pm and 6pm. So, I rush home from work the next day to catch the Suddenlink technician. At 6:30pm, it starts to occur to me that he might not be coming. I contact Suddenlink yet again, and I'm told that they closed my ticket. First of all, thanks for informing me. Second of all, why? Third of all, no seriously, why!? The problem is not resolved. They have replaced nothing. No work has been done!

So, I receive an apology for the inconvenience and a promise that a technician will be out tomorrow to replace it. Great, what time--? Hello? Hello!? Yeah, no clue when he's coming by. As it happened, I had the next day off of work (it was a Friday and I was working that weekend). Still, I had things to do that day, so I wouldn't mind knowing when exactly they'd be by. So, first thing in the morning, I drive over to Suddenlink's local office. I'm tired of dealing with them on the phone, or on a chat screen. I ask when the appointment is and I'm told that it is between 4 and 6pm. Well, that's not going to work for me. At the time, I had pretty standard plans on Fridays around that time. Can they reschedule the appointment for earlier in the day? I'm assured that they can. My customer service representative accidentally cancels the order instead. He'll try to get someone out to my house that day and someone will contact me about it. Fine.

Several hours pass and no word from Suddenlink. So, I go back on their website. I discover that rather than come out that day like they said, they would be out tomorrow sometime between 12pm and 2pm. The problem with that is that I worked that Saturday from 7:30am to 4pm, and on weekends we work alone, so I couldn't exactly take the time off. So, I had to reschedule the appointment yet again. Finally, it's decided that the technician will be out Monday between 10am and 12pm. I'm off work that day, so that works fine.

The technician comes out, and it's a different guy from last time. This guy actually shows me how to use the device and verifies the installation process instead of just plugging it into the wall and leaving. So, after 24 days, I can finally use my TiVo! That afternoon, I finally get a chance to sit down and enjoy some of the HD channels that come from my upgraded service.

Can't say that I saw this coming.

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Bicycle Race

On occasion, the city of Greenville plays host to a series of bicycle races that run through the downtown area. It can be a fun experience for bicycling enthusiasts of all ages, and literally tens of people show up to watch the event. Several city blocks are sectioned off for the races, and it just so happens that the building I work in is planted firmly in the middle of the race area. Since the races typically take place on Sunday during the day, this really only limits the number of people inconvenienced to whoever happens to be working 1st shift on that particular day. As it turns out, for the past two years, that lucky individual was me.

When they started doing the races several years ago, the event coordinators would contact...someone, who would contact our department supervisor, who would contact our shift supervisor, who would ultimately let us know not to park in the race area on that particular day. For the last couple of years, though, something has broken in that chain of communication.

Last year was the first year I actually had to work the weekend of the races. It was Sunday afternoon. I had already suffered through a particularly annoying morning, as the weekly maintenance window had not gone as smoothly as normal. As I was settling into what would hopefully be a dull remainder of the day, my attention was captured by movement on one of the outside security cameras. I noticed a line of bicycles pedaling around the northeast corner of the building. I thought this was odd, since they were going against traffic on a one-way street, and stepped outside to take a look. It was at this point that I realized how screwed I was.

My immediate response was a string of profanity that would make my dad both proud and ashamed. Anger properly vented, I started analyzing the situation to determine my next step. I had two objectives that I must accomplish: 

1. Free my car from the race area
2. Contact 2nd shift to warn them about the races

Contacting 2nd shift was not a pressing matter, as for some crazy reason, getting home weighed more heavily on my mind than where Terrance was going to park. It still was a requirement, however, because I wouldn't put it past Terrance to pull up to the building, see all the roads blocked off, assume we were closed, and go home.

It is important to the story to explain that our building has a fenced in parking lot reserved for the university-owned vehicles. This parking lot also serves as a secure area to park for our employees who work nights and weekends. As it happened, I had decided to park my car in this lot that day. This complicated my situation, as if I had parked in a normal lot, I could pull out onto one of the roads that was enclosed by but wasn't being used by the race, wait for a gap in the cyclists, then just slip around the barricade and park outside the course. In the secure lot, however, the only exit was onto the actual race course, with the nearest barricade being too thorough to get around.

So, I made sure the phones were forwarded to the dedicated cellphone we keep in the event we have to leave the command center, and went in search of an exit. I spotted a police car parked across the track from the front of our building and decided it was a good place to start. I waited until the coast was clear, then jogged across the road to the police. I explained my situation to them, and they suggested that I go talk to the event coordinator, who was set up in a tent further down the block. With that, the cops left.

I wandered down to the tent, and caught the attention of the first person with a clipboard I could find. I explained my situation to him, and he had me talk to a woman who was keeping track of the times. She told me the race would be over in about 10 laps and that I could move my car during the break before the next race.

Once my car was free, I came back inside, tracked down Terrance and told him where he could park when he got to work. While it was annoying that they hadn't let us know the race was going to happen, they were nice about it and accommodating, so I wasn't too bothered by the whole ordeal. 

So, when I glanced at the outside cameras this year and noticed bicycles pedaling by again, I was mildly irritated, but not overly concerned by the whole thing. I walked outside to the tent where the event coordinators were stationed and again explained my situation. This time, however, the guy I talked to seemed far more concerned with my accusation that they hadn't notified us than whether or not I could move my car. He explained to me in great detail and to great length about how it was not his fault and that he had contacted the people he was required to contact.

Biting down on my rising anger, I explained to the man that I really didn't care whose fault it was and that my primary concern was getting my car out of the race area. I offered him a compromise, suggesting that if he could find me a window in the race to move my car, then it wouldn't be a surprise late entry into the race.

No cyclists were harmed in the drawing of this picture

Surprisingly, he was very accommodating after that.

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Pressure

As we've touched on a time or two in the past, I'm not very good at social interactions. It can be frustrating watching other people strike up conversations and carry on without a care in the world, while I always feel trapped and panicked, unsure of exactly what to say, what to do, how to keep the conversation going, or sometimes how to mercy kill the entire awkward encounter.

Talking to people, for me, feels like playing the verbal version of Dance Dance Revolution, only none of the verbal cues are scrolling up the screen, so I keep missing them.

Is there a lower difficulty than "Pants-on-head Retarded"?

Of course, you still have to talk to people, regardless of how difficult it may seem, because the only thing worse than awkwardly powering your way through a conversation is silently staring at someone as they're trying to have a conversation with you.

What makes it all so difficult for me is the tremendous amount of pressure I always feel to perform, to be "on", to just fill the role that the normal world wants me to fill. Interacting with more functional people always puts pressure on me to help carry the conversational ball. That's not to say that I loathe everyone I talk to, as that couldn't be farther from the truth, I just don't know how to talk to them! There aren't many aspects of my life where I don't feel pressured.

Interacting at work

Our department is kind of isolated from the rest of the building, so we don't really pass a lot of people in the hallway and aren't forced into a lot of small talk. But sometimes, you have to venture out to ask a question about a server that's showing down, or report some other problem. Because I'm not overly talkative, I've developed a reputation at work that whenever you see Brian coming, you duck and cover because he's bringing a problem with him. So, I get criticism that I never come to just chat and see how things are going. I don't think anyone means to hurt my feelings when they say it, but that's just how my brain takes things. So, I feel pressured in going to be social with these people. And for me, it's not just a matter of striking up a conversation. No, I have to mentally prepare myself, like I'm going into battle. Paul and Mark are two of my best work friends outside of my department. I've talked with them over the years, I've gamed with them over the years. Yet, I still have to mentally psyche myself up for 5-10 minutes before wandering down to one of their cubicles to see what they're up to or if they've played any good games lately.

And you have to talk at work. If you're quiet, people call you out on it, with comments suggesting that you're acting like someone ran over your family pet or something. So you can't not talk, even if all you want to do is not have anyone cast a spotlight on you.

Interacting with family

Conversations with the family aren't much easier. Whenever I go to visit a parent, or a sibling, or a cousin, or whoever, I have to go through a mental checklist of which topics to discuss and which ones to ignore. I try not to ask too many questions about how anyone is doing, as if they aren't doing well, then I'm causing them more discomfort having to relive the experience. I also avoid anything negative going on in my own life, as I don't want to cause any more burden on anyone. So, I mostly just listen while I'm there. I feel bad sitting there and not saying anything, but it seems like the best compromise, as I don't feel like I'm imposing on anyone by disrupting their normal routines. When it comes time to leave, I feel guilty for going, because I don't want anyone to think I'm rushing off and glad to be leaving, but I'm just mentally exhausted and need to go home and recharge.

Interacting at church

Church is a very social environment, as you're supposed to share in fellowship. But it also feels like forced social interaction. It is nice setting foot in a place where you feel that the bulk of the people you bump into are genuinely glad to see you, but it is very difficult trying to talk to them all as well. Because you can't just say "hey" and go take a seat. You have to tell them what's happening with you, ask the appropriate questions to find out what's happening with them, and so on. On top of that, there's a forced introduction at the start of services, where you have to go around and talk to people and shake their hands. You cannot sit down and hope that no one notices you, you have to stand there and wait for the more functional social butterflies to come and greet you. And the hand shaking bothers me as well. There are one, maybe two people outside of relatives who I am comfortable touching. But you can't really tell people you're uncomfortable.

So, despite usually enjoying the experience afterwards, there are many days where I have to engage in a battle of wills to even go. If I can't make it to the first church service with the lower attendance, I don't even bother going to the second service.

Interacting with friends

As we've touched on a time or two, I've never had a lot of friends, and most of the ones I have had tend to be the more extroverted/borderline self-centered types. I just attract the type, which makes sense. I'm normally quiet and attentive, which gives people who like to talk about themselves a stage on which they can perform. So, conversations with these people tends to be a gauntlet of me asking all the questions necessary to allow them to talk about themselves, with my own well being not really being a topic of interest or discussion.

That being said, I have had a few friends who I feel more comfortable interacting with. I'd estimate that I have four good friends that I can really interact with, one of whom I feel I can talk to about anything with nothing but understanding on their end. (I don't like being in the spotlight, so I'll not be shining any spotlights on them)

Decisions

Social interactions aren't the only facets of my life where I feel tremendous pressure. Decision making can be crippling.

Allow me to walk you through my decision making process.

I'm with a friend, let's call this friend Lisa. Lisa and I are trying to figure out where we'd like to eat for dinner. Lisa asks if I have a preference.

What is my preference? I had McDonald's for lunch, which hardly checks off any boxes for things I no longer have a taste for, so that doesn't narrow the choices down. Besides, Lisa won't want to eat there for dinner, so I've eliminated no viable choices. I'm always partial to steak. But chicken is good. As is beef. And pork. And recently I developed a fondness of seafood too. So, yeah, no particular taste of what I want. Fine, how about steak, then? What's my budget? What's Lisa's budget? I don't want to pick a place that might not be cost effective for Lisa. So, let's not say steak. Besides, if we get steak, where do we go? Does the menu have a big enough assortment, where if Lisa decided she wanted pasta instead, she can find something? Wait, doesn't Lisa hate that particular restaurant anyway? Why does it matter, didn't we eliminate steak? Okay, budget. What's something middle of the road? If we go fast food, Lisa's going to judge me. If we go 5-star, Lisa might feel uncomfortable, or worse think that I'm coming onto her! I can't afford 5-star anyway. I don't know where 5-star is in this city! Okay, this is taking too long. Where are places we usually go? Lisa likes Cheddar's, but I don't want to keep going to the same place over and over again. But what if Lisa does? Well, what about a place with a similar menu? No, if we're going to a place with a similar menu, we might as well go to Cheddar's. But if we go there now, will it be too busy? I don't want to have to wait. I don't know when they close. What time is it now? Wait, are we going there?! How about some place I've always wanted to try. But I don't know when they close either. And what's on the menu? What if it's a bad place? If it's a bad place, will Lisa remember this next time she wants to go out to eat? Why is she staring at me? Say something. Say anything! Pick a place! PICK A PLACE!

At this point, the only logical option was to drive off a cliff...

And that is the conversation that plays through my head for any decisions, any conversation, any interaction I have with people. It's too much pressure.

I don't share any of this to offer any excuse for being difficult to interact with. Nor am I demanding that people adjust the way they approach me to cater to my own needs. As easy as that would make my life, I'm not that self-centered, plus I think we've established pretty well by now that I cannot say or do anything that I feel might inconvenience someone else. I just share so people can understand. If I'm not talking to you, there's a good chance it isn't because I don't want to talk to you, I just don't know how.

And that's why, a lot of the time, I'm happy to just go home at the end of the day and not talk to anyone. Not because I'm anti-social, but because I'm just that awful at it.

Recently, I got to hang out with a few friends, which was a nice break from the monotony of Go to Work/Go Home/Go to Work/Go Home. Well, we were trying to figure out what to do for dinner that night, and we all remembered that Brian had never been to Moe's. I've driven past several Moe's restaurants in my travels, I had just never been inside. I heard good things about the food, so it was definitely on my list of things to try. So, I was delighted to go. And so, we all hop in the car and head over to Moe's. The staff is friendly, which is nice, but the menu is foreign to me, so I take a minute to read over my choices. And it becomes apparent to me that Moe's is the Mexican equivalent of Subway. You tell them you want a burrito, but then you have to walk them through every single option of what you want on the burrito. You can't just order a #3, you have to tell them the tortilla, the meat, the cheese, the extras and add-ons. It's a whole process. I felt myself starting to unravel as I stared at the menu board.

"Welcome to panic attack!"

Meanwhile, my friends are ahead of me in line (make a decision Brian) they're going through the whole ordering process (you're going to hold them up Brian) and the restaurant is closing soon (you like Mexican food Brian) and there's people behind me in line (pick something) so I'm holding everyone up (seriously, you have, like 4 choices) so maybe I won't eat (then they'll think they picked a bad place) I'm not that hungry anyway (why are you so bad at this) and now my friend is looking at me (she's going to think you're crazy) and my other friend is looking as well (he knows you're crazy) and now she's walking over (you're making them uncomfortable) she's getting closer (you're going to cause them problems why can't you just pick something it's not that hard people do it all the time but you can't do it why can't you do it why are you such a failure why is life so hard for you pick something Pick Something PICK SOMETHING!!!)

But instead of hiding their heads because I was on the verge of making a scene, or judging me, or anything, they helped explain the choices. This one comes with this, that one comes with that. Just follow us through the order process and you'll know what you have to choose from. It was okay to be panicked, it was okay to be overwhelmed, it wasn't a problem, it wasn't a burden. They understood.

They understood.

So, for once, there wasn't any pressure.

---

(borrowing the idea of including a song with the post from a friend. Don't sue!)

No Update

My apologies for the lack of update. One could argue that after the serious nature of the last post, I needed time off to collect my thoughts. It wasn't an easy history to relive (and in fact, one person unfriended me as a result of it), but to be perfectly honest, none of it bothers me anymore. I've already lived that story, learned what lessons needed to be learned, and moved on. The only reason I felt compelled to share at all is because someone didn't appreciate me sharing stories from my history that might cast others in a negative light. I agree that slandering someone is wrong, but I don't see a problem in telling a story exactly how it happened. So, I opted to just go ahead and tell the entire tale in one sitting to get it over with, so that the people who were bothered by it could get it over with and we could all move on.

So, if I wasn't taking a mental sabbatical, why no update?

Quite simply, I was out of town visiting some friends, and that took precedence. 

Despite my insistence on not unpacking my bags, my vacation has come to an end, which means that updates will resume their normal schedule come Monday, September 15th.

Friends

As I've mentioned in the past, I've never really had a lot of friends. Sure, I've met lots of people in my journey, but of the few I've grown to call friends, many have wandered out of my life for various reasons. Some would move away and we'd fall out of contact. Some I'd have a falling out with and we'd just stop talking. So, I've learned that friendships have their ups and downs, and at the end of the day, your friends are the ones who enjoy the ups and press through the downs.

I'd say of the various examples of the ups and downs in my life, one tends to stand out above the rest.

Disclaimer: So as not to single any particular individual out or "air the dirty laundry", I will be using an assumed name for this example. The person I talk about is not anyone that any of my readers know, nor is this person anyone who has ever been named before. If you suspect that I am talking about someone you know, you are mistaken, and the similarities they have with the person you suspect they are is purely coincidence. If you do not believe in coincidence, then perhaps it is happenstance, chance, or a fluke.

Disclaimer: Due to the limitations of my extra-sensory perception, I can only provide my perspective on this example. If you would like the perspective of the noted individual, I would suggest you ask this person directly, which will prove impossible since you do not know the individual of whom I speak.

Disclaimer: The person referenced in this example is an awesome person who has proved generous and kind. This person thinks only of others and is in no way, shape, or form a horrible person. We are all lucky to coexist with this person and should thank our chosen deity that they grace us with their splendor.

Disclaimer: None of the incidents listed below are the fault of this person, as this person has no fault. If the examples seem to indicate otherwise, this is clearly my fault as a storyteller. I apologize in advance.

Perhaps one of my longest friendships was with someone that we'll call Not-Scott.

Not-Scott and I went to the same school, but didn't really become friends until the 6th grade. Despite being on the fringe of the popular kids, like me, he was more outgoing and talkative than myself, so it wasn't long before he decided that I was his friend. As I said before, I'd never had a lot of friends, so, hey, new friend! We'd chat at school, he'd hang out at my house, I'd hang out at his. Pretty normal friendship that remained pretty constant throughout middle school. There'd be the occasional argument or fight, but nothing unusual or major. Early in our high school career, he'd end up moving to a new school district, so we didn't hang out as often. Eventually, he'd move off to the mountains and it wasn't long before we dropped out of contact with each other.

A few years ago, he shot me a message out of the blue stating that he was moving back into town and wanting to hang out. At the time, again, not a lot of friends, so I was open to catching up and chatting.

So, Not-Scott and I started to hang out again. Things were okay for a while, but the longer we hung out, the more something became apparent: either he had changed a lot since when we were growing up, or I just wasn't as observant when I was growing up. Over the next few months, he'd take great strides to alienate me by:

• While introducing me to new people, he would say unflattering, and frankly untrue things about me, tainting their first impressions of me.
• At a dinner meet-up we'd have with friends, he'd embarrass me in front of the group by pointing out that I'm nervous around women.
• He'd rely more and more heavily on my wallet for his day-to-day life. The lowest point would be when he would put me on the spot to have me pay for dinner and a movie ticket for him and his girlfriend when we all hung out as a group one night.
• He'd tell me that my life "wouldn't have turned out quite so bad" if I had moved out of town with him so many years ago.
• He would dominate all conversations, ensuring that we'd only talk about him, his interests, his opinions, and what was happening in his life.
• If for some strange reason the conversation actually did turn to me, he would play on his phone, check out of the conversation, or interrupt me to steer the conversation back to him.
• He couldn't be bothered to remember even the most important details about my life, such as my dietary restrictions.
• Not that that made much of a difference, because he couldn't be bothered to propose any sort of meet up or initiate any conversations with me, making me feel like a charity case when he'd bend his neck enough to agree to hang out.

To his benefit, he did host a cookout for my birthday one year. That he would invite a bunch of people I didn't know and spent most of the night talking to his girlfriend is beside the point.

Disclaimer: As will be noted below, I did sit down and talk to Not-Scott about the above incidents, so he is well aware of my examples, arguments, and perspective on these things.

On several occasions, I would reach a breaking point and would arrange a sit-down with Not-Scott to discuss the problems I was having with his rather self-centered and calloused behavior. On these occasions, he would interrupt me as I tried to explain my stance, offer nothing but insincere apologies and empty promises that he would be more mindful in the future. For the first week or two, he'd actually shoot the occasional greeting or propose a hangout, before going back to ignoring me and all that happened in my life.

Finally, I had enough and sent him a rather lengthy message outlining all of the examples listed above in great detail, as well as citing all of the previous attempts to reach some common ground. All I asked was a chance to discuss these issues and move past them instead of remaining stuck in a perpetual loop of Not-Scott is full of himself/Brian complains too much. Not-Scott, showing the value he placed on our friendship, promptly responded that he couldn't be bothered, deleted the entire conversation, blocked me on Facebook, and stopped talking to me entirely.

At this point, I figured that was the end of things. I was willing to offer a truce, he slapped my olive branch away, took his ball and went home. Despite my small list of friends, I don't need that kind of friend in my life, so no biggie.

A bit of time passes, and I get a message from someone who would end up being Not-Scott's girlfriend, telling me that he was regretful of how things played out and asked if I would be willing to sit down with him and talk. I tell her that I had told him previously that I wanted to sit down and discuss things. Despite his response, I say that I'm still willing to talk.

So, a little later, he shoots me a message. He tells me that it is important to him that we sit down and talk things out, but gee, his schedule was just too full at the moment. Could I possibly wait until his schedule is free? Then why bother sending a message at all? "I don't want you to think that it's not important to me that we smooth things over, but it really isn't important to me." Fine, whatever. He can set the whole thing up when his schedule is free. I have nothing else to say until whenever that is.

Five months pass, and still no word from him. So I tell him I assume that he doesn't want to talk. He tells me I am wrong. Alright, how exactly did I misinterpret that? Perhaps his schedule was too busy, and at no point in the past 3,652 hours did he have a spare moment to actually sit down and talk. So I tell him that if he really wants to talk, he'll find the time, because I'm not wasting any more time on this. So, he picks a time and place for us to meet.

And so, we sit down and talk. Ultimately, he wants to be my friend again, but this is nothing I hadn't heard in the previous half-dozen attempts to work things out. So, I agree to think about it and meet up with him again later. So, I take some time to think.

What exactly do I want in a friend? What makes a good friend? Have I ever really had a good friend?

So, rather than say "Yes, let's be friends again," or "No, I'd be stupid to dive back into that shallow pool again," I opt to just outline what I'm looking for in a friend, and he could decide if that's something he can do. I shoot him a message offering to meet up. Not-Scott would love to sit down and discuss things, but wouldn't you know it, he's in the middle of final exams. That's fine. I understand. He'll talk to me after exams are over.

A month after he graduates, I shoot him a message asking if perhaps that meant exams were done. Gosh, he's just been so busy and meant to send me a message sooner. After a bit more back and forth, another meeting time and place is decided and we sit down for our second discussion on whether we could still be friends.

So, I tell him what I'm looking for in a friend:

• Someone willing to talk about their interests
• Someone willing to talk about what's going on in their life
• Someone willing to listen to me talk about my interests
• Someone willing to listen to me talk about what's going on in my life
• Someone who actually shows an interest in talking to me or hanging out with me
• Someone I can rely on
• Someone who has my actual best interest at heart

Apparently this was asking too much, as I have not seen Not-Scott since this meeting, and despite a couple brief conversations in the first couple weeks after that last sit-down, I haven't heard from him in a couple of months.

I don't imagine I'll hear from him again. I certainly have nothing else to say to him. And I think that's a pretty good example of the ups and downs of a friendship. 

Was I asking too much? I don't want to be the center of anyone's life. Heck, I'm not overly fond that I'm the center of my own life. I don't want to be in the spotlight. But I do want to have a spot on someone's to-do list. I want someone to actually, every now and then ask themselves, "I wonder what Brian's been up to and if he's doing okay?" Or say, "maybe we can hang out sometime?" 

All I know is that apparently it is wrong for me to have the audacity to stand up for myself. Apparently I'm a coward for even wanting to shed my door mat status and be treated like a person. Apparently it is disrespectful to highlight any negative aspect of a person who has never treated me with respect. And apparently I'm a villain for not graciously accepting an insincere olive branch from someone who doesn't even want me as a friend.

I'm tired of all the friends who use me to feel better about themselves. Those who value me based on how many favors I can do for them. The ones who only need me to listen to how great they are. The friends who only need me to fill an empty chair in their favorite activity without showing the slightest interest in one of my own. And the ones who consider me so worthless that I'm not even worth sacrificing a few minutes to talk or listen, or who can't be bothered to find a little time in their busy lives just to spend time with me. My life has been filled with a bunch of other Not-Scotts, and if they're the best I can hope for from friends, I'd rather be alone.

Fortunately, I've actually managed to meet a few people who I can consider real friends.

So I want to thank those friends who actually do care about me. The friends who think my life stories are just as interesting as their own. The friends who I can have actual conversations with about our mutual interests, as well as the interests we don't currently share. The friends that actually show an interest in talking to me and hanging out with me, even when the ups and downs of life try to get in the way. The friends who allow me to vent about my frustrations and feel comfortable enough with me to share their own. The friends who make me feel valued, and loved.

Cellphones (or why I sometimes hate technology)

My first cellphone was a hand-me-down Sprint phone. My parents had just started their own business and switched to a new carrier, which meant new phones and new numbers. They still had the old phone and the old contract, so they passed it along to me. I had never had a cellphone before, and had never really seen the need (at this point, I barely had a license and had never really driven outside of the county, so things like car trouble didn't really register on my mind). So, the phone went in the glove box as more of an in-case-of-emergency type thing. My first real attempt at using it did not wow me with its convenience and technical capabilities.

I had driven to my friend Christin's house to visit, and as I pulled up in her yard, the heavens parted and approximately three oceans' worth of water fell from the sky. My friend, being security conscious, kept her door locked. So, I figured I would use my new phone to call her and let her know I was there so she could let me in, which would cut my time standing in the rain down to a minimum. Sadly, I could not get a signal on the phone. At this point, it is worth noting that my friend lived next to a cellphone tower. I can admit now that I have no idea which carrier owned that particular tower, but at the time, it provided fuel for quite a bit of anger.

So, after that, the phone pretty much sat in the glove box until the contract expired, and I vowed never to use Sprint again.

Time passes, and I'm now in college. My mom and sister decided to get their own cellphone plan, and offer to let me join in. I get the basic free flip phone from AT&T, which serves my needs. Barely. The signal isn't great (far better than Sprint, though). I can recall that there were only certain points in my apartment where I could get a signal, which could make for some interesting moments.

Eventually, I end up on my own plan with US Cellular. Again, a basic flip phone, set number of minutes, no text and data because I didn't see the need. At this point, I end up with a circle of friends who are big on texting and Facebook chatting. So, I add texting to my plan. I quickly blow past the limit. I upgrade the limit and start to blow past that as well. So, when my contract was set to renew, I upgraded to a smartphone with unlimited text and enough data to let me chat online. Which brings us to the here and now.

While I get more use out of my phone now than I did the old Sprint phone from way back when, I'm not exactly glued to it. Sure, I have apps and games and all that fun stuff, but when I'm with people, I'm content to just stick the phone in my pocket and not use it. Not everyone seems to have that ability.

Now, to be clear, I'm not complaining about answering a phone call or text while you're in a social situation. Sometimes you get a phone call that you have to take, or if you're in a situation where you can excuse yourself from the conversation to take a phone call, it's no big thing. Sometimes you have to fire back a quick text to keep your phone from ringing off the hook all night. Again, no biggie. Nor am I complaining about using a smart phone if it goes with the conversation. If you're showing someone a video or picture that you were talking about, that's perfectly acceptable.

No, I'm talking about when someone rudely checks out of a conversation to play with their phone. When you suffer from low self esteem and you know that you aren't the best conversationalist in the world, it can be very damaging when someone engages in a lengthy Facebook chat while in your company, or breaks out Candy Crush to see if they can get to the next level. It puts out the message that this person would rather be doing practically anything else instead of having a conversation with you.

A perfect example:

I used to hang out with a group of friends that would get together about once a week to grab something to eat and maybe see a movie. It was on one such night that I found myself standing in front of Cheddar's with a friend (we'll call him Scott because that's the name his mama gave him), waiting for our table to be ready. As we're waiting, we're having a conversation. Mid-sentence, Scott gets a text on his phone and drops the conversation to respond.

And proceeds to start a conversation with the person who texted him. The awkward pause turns into a rather lengthy awkward silence. And I go from mildly annoyed to increasingly angry. Finally, I sent my own text.

Eventually, the texting conversation dies down and Scott rejoins our conversation, not apologetic for rudely checking out of the conversation, but annoyed that I pointed it out to him.

And what was the text message that was so important? His friend was running a Dungeons & Dragon game for the first time and needed some pointers. No relatives in the hospital, no trouble at work, no crisis of any kind. Heck, the friend wasn't even running the game that night, so it was a text book example of "I'll call you back later and we'll talk".

What made the whole thing worse was that, even after I explained my perspective on the situation, he didn't see that he had done anything wrong. It's one thing to suspect that you aren't worth someone else's time, quite another to have them confirm it.

Depression

This is kind of a hard subject to talk about, but something that I knew I'd get to eventually when I started this blog.

I have always had a hard time fitting in with people. I'm not sure why, but it's just difficult for me to interact with others. Growing up, as the people around me flourished, and their social circles grew, I just kind of sat around on the outside of the group. I had friends, sure, but mostly because particularly outgoing or extroverted people would just declare that I was their friend. I think I just made a good sounding board for them to talk about themselves, their interests, and their lives, as I don't really feel any of them ever tried to get to know me.

I did have a few people that I would get comfortable around, where I actually wanted to hang out with them instead of just feeling obligated to hang out with them, because it's what people are supposed to do. But these folks had a tendency to move away, to the point where I decided I wasn't really supposed to have a "best friend". So, I've more or less always felt a bit lonely.

At home wasn't much different. My parents divorced when I was young and remarried not too incredibly long after, so I had four parents. Of them, I was probably closer to my dad. That being said, we didn't have a whole lot in common. Dad, growing up on a farm, was always an outdoors, work with your hands type. I, being red-haired, tend to burst into flames when exposed to sunlight for too long, and I was more of the thinking-type than the doing-type. Still, I didn't mind manual labor, and would actually prefer to work than sit idle, so I would help him out when I could, working on whatever project he'd find to do. But we didn't really share a lot of interests, so while I could interact with him, and identify with him, I just couldn't ever really communicate him.

That's not to say I didn't get on well with the rest of my parents. It's just that Claudia, my step-mom, was kind of the problem solver of the family, so I never really wanted to impose on her time with what I'd consider a minor concern, though honestly, I doubt she'd see it as an imposition. Likewise, I think my Mom understood my mindset a bit, having grown up with a brother with a similar mental state, but it was hard communicating with her with my step-dad around, whom I wasn't overly fond of.

My siblings were no easier to talk to. My older brother was in that age where you try to distance yourself from your annoying younger brother and sister, and my sister, though my twin, was a girl and thus her mind just worked differently. Neither of them really seemed to struggle with a social life, so I doubt that they would have understood anyway.

So, even at home, I always felt like a bit of an outsider, being the middle child, second son, and red-headed stepchild all rolled into one broken package. That's not to say I didn't feel loved, though. I never doubted that my family loved me. I just don't think that they understood me.

As high school rolled around, my social problems and mental state didn't improve all that much. Again, I had "friends" in my class, but no one that I felt really comfortable around. There were girls that I liked, but I couldn't really find a way to express that. Worse, I started becoming a target of ridicule by some of the more "normal" people at school. While I was never physically bullied, the verbal abuse wasn't helpful for my already fragile mental state, so when senior year rolled around and I more or less stopped caring about anything, I ended up getting put on anti-depressants.

The pills actually seemed to help a bit. I actually seemed happy. I was a bit more talkative and outgoing at home. So overall, I'd say things were improving. Of course, the pills didn't really fix the problem I was having with social anxiety, but at least I'm not dwelling on it, right? Well, in some regards, that just makes me feel worse. Before, I was an outsider who couldn't really identify or communicate with the people around me. Now, I was an outsider who couldn't really identify or communicate with the people around me, but I'm also on medication. So, sure, I feel happy, but I wasn't really happy.

I think the doctor who prescribed the pills kind of picked up on that. But rather than try to get to the root of my problem, which I didn't really understand at the time, he just doubled my dosage and called it a day. So, with twice the dosage, would I be twice as "happy"? Surprisingly, no. Instead of better balancing my emotional state, it just burned it out completely. I didn't feel happy or sad. I didn't feel anything.  Which just bothered me more. Still, I just struggled with it and pushed on.

Things didn't get easier. Over the course of a few months, my grandmother passed away, I ended up withdrawing from college, losing my job in the process, and after a bitter fight, ended up parting company with one of the few friends I had left. So, I just became more withdrawn. I felt more and more outside of the rest of the world. And I hated the pills because I couldn't even feel sad about any of it.

The doctor wouldn't take me off of the pills, so I ended up taking myself off of them. I started staggering my doses until I just stopped taking the pills. The withdrawals I went through over the next two weeks were not pleasant. But at least I was off the pills. So maybe my emotions would return, even if they were mostly negative. They didn't come back.

I would end up gaining a few more friends when a friend who had previously moved away came back into town, bringing a small social circle with him. So, it was nice going from mostly sitting at home alone to actually hanging out with and talking to people. And for a while, I actually felt a bit closer to "normal".

As time went on, it started becoming clear that these people weren't really my friends. I was just someone to make them feel better about themselves. Eventually, I decided that having "friends" wasn't worth all the headache, and stood up for myself. When it became clear that I wasn't their doormat anymore, they left.

Which brings us to the here and now. I found myself at a particularly low point when the last couple of friends that I really had left found themselves with significantly less free time to spare for me. Finding myself sitting at home alone with no one to talk to again, I hit another mental breaking point.

And so, I'm back on anti-depressants. I'm taking the lowest dose possible now. It doesn't really make me feel "better", but it keeps me more focused where I don't dwell on the negative feelings as much.

Despite that, I actually do feel a bit better this time around. I recently made a new friend who has a better understanding of my mental state and my social anxiety. It's a lot easier to talk to people who can see where you're coming from, so while I still don't feel "normal", at least I don't feel quite so alone anymore.

Trying New Things

The world is filled with an ever-growing, vast assortment of things to try, sample, taste, see, or experience. One could spend an entire lifetime in an effort to try it all, and barely scratch the surface. Which is precisely why I've managed to avoid almost all of it.

Growing up, I managed to assemble a nice little box for myself, filled with all the things that I had experienced and liked. And as I settled into my nice little box, closing the lid to the rest of the world, I was content. I wasn't happy, but I was comfortable. I would think "if I only have these things for the rest of my life, then it will be a good life." And, in some ways, it was.

When you're sitting at a restaurant, there's no agonizing over what you're going to eat. Every time you've sat at this restaurant, you've ordered this dish, and it has consistently been good. You don't even need to look at a menu, as you can recite your order from memory and save yourself, your party, and the wait staff time. And if you keep your dish simple, then you can get it relatively anywhere. There's not a restaurant in the world that can't make you a hamburger.

Oh. Right.

When you're flipping through the channels on the TV, there's no worrying about what to watch. You've seen that movie replayed on HBO a hundred times. No worries about following the plot or about whether it will be good or bad. And since you've seen it a hundred times, you don't feel a sense of loss if you have to leave during the middle.

When you're reading a book, it's like returning to a little safe zone in your mind. You've been here before,  you know exactly how the story is going to play out, there's no fear of anything unexpected happening.

And that's how it is with everything. It's familiar, it's comforting, it's safe.

It's boring.

Eating the same food again and again is comforting. You know what you get each time, and you don't have to worry about spending money on something you don't like. But as delicious as that sirloin is, how do you know you don't like fish more? That potato is good, but is the corn better? And you don't even have to reach that far outside of your comfort zone. If a plain hamburger is good, would adding tomatoes, or lettuce enhance the flavor?

Watching the same TV shows or movies, or reading the same books repeatedly is also comforting. You know you'll enjoy the story arc and be happy with the ending. You don't have to invest countless hours in something that may have a disappointing payoff. And, hey, repeated viewings tends to reveal details you may have missed the first time around. The twists and turns in the story may have had subtle foreshadowing that you didn't pick up on the first few times. But at the same time, those twists and turns become less surprising. It might be shocking when you see the big twist in Saw (Dr. Gordon is the Dread Pirate Roberts) or the Sixth Sense (Haley Joel Osment's career is dead) for the first time. And watching it again might reveal more clues (he was also Robin Hood; M Night Shyamalan's career is also dead). But after that, there's not much point for a third viewing. There's nothing riveting, nothing to get you emotionally invested in the characters anymore. I recall the first time I read the Dragon Prince series by Melanie Rawn, this was the first series I had read where the author wasn't shy about killing characters. I actually feared for the characters as their stories played out.

Many a sleepless night was spent agonizing over the fate of these characters.

Reading it a second time, you start to remember which characters not to get attached to, and you no longer worry about if the heroes will succeed. It's fun to read again, but only when I've had a few years for the finer points to have faded from my memory.

I realize that this may all sound like common sense, but to be brutally honest, it is something that I only recently discovered.

As I said before, I was very comfortable in my box, if not a bit bored. What inspired me to start exploring the world beyond the borders of my box was spite.

A few years ago, I used to hang out with a friend who we'll call Scott (because that's his name. Though I have other names that I have called him, we'll stick with Scott at the moment for simplicity.) He introduced me to a friend of his, named Aimée, who I would end up considering a good friend of my own. She confessed to me that when Scott was introducing her to the concept of me, he said that I was closed minded and wouldn't try new things. Aimée took this as a challenge to get me to try something new. At the same time, Scott and I hadn't seen eye-to-eye on a lot of things, so when I heard this, I decided that I would try anything and everything that was presented to me, with the sole exception being anything that he recommended.

So, it became something of a game. We started with food. I always prided myself as a meat and potatoes type person, so I had to venture forth and try other things that grew in the ground and things that used to swim in the sea. It was scary, but in the end, it was good! And from there, the directions I was willing to reach grew. Mixed drinks, movies, TV shows, books, roller coasters, cosplay, anything that was mentioned would go on my fabled list and slowly I started checking them off. Sure, I've liked some things more than others, but I can honestly say that I've enjoyed the experience.

Sometimes, it is difficult to keep trying new things, and instead of trying something on a corner of the menu I haven't browsed yet, I get something more familiar, but there's nothing wrong with going back to your comfort zone, just so long as you don't let it stop you from exploring.

Which brings us to the here and now. Since I've opened myself up to new experiences, I have still only relied on a small handful of people to dictate what I should try next. While I know these people and trust that they have a good idea of my preferences and interests, they are themselves limited to what they have experienced.

So, as an experiment, I wanted to open up my fabled list to see what my readers would recommend. I've taken the liberty of breaking it down into categories and sections so that it's a little easier to navigate.

My List - Anime
My List - Books
My List - Games
My List - Movies
My List - Music
My List - TV
My List - Other

All I ask is that anyone who wishes to contribute to the list add as much information as they can in the provided fields. This makes it easier for me to find the show, movie, book, etc. I'll add more categories and sections as their need becomes apparent. Please include your name or some other identifying nickname so that I can tell who made the recommendation. This way, if someone has similar interests to my own, or has recommended a lot of things that I enjoyed, I can apply more weight to their suggestions. I ask that no one edit the green columns, as I want to use those to track my progress and grade the experience. Also, please limit your editing to just adding content, as I'd hate for someone's recommendation to go ignored because someone else deleted it.

The Songs That Play in My Head

Like practically every person with functioning ears, I listen to music. In turn, also like practically every person with functioning ears, I tend to get songs stuck in my head. They get trapped there in a variety of ways. A common one is my friend from work, Richie. He'll randomly sing out a line from a song, and if I've heard it before, 9 times out of 10, the rest of the song will be playing in my head for the remainder of the day.

...and together we'll fly through the portal, when the gateway opens to the other side!

Other times, I'll just catch something on the radio, or hear it playing in the background of a store, or it will be featured in a commercial. However I come by them, they wind up stuck in my brain. And they never really go away.

Sure, they typically fade into the background and are practically forgotten. But they are still there. A song I haven't heard in years can pop into my brain randomly and I find myself mentally singing along. Sometimes not quite so mentally. I once disrupted a family reunion by tapping along to the beat of the Literal Trailer for Resident Evil Afterlife.

So while I can't really be rid of a song once it's lodged in my brain, I can quiet it down. I find the best way that works for me is to listen to the song continuously. After several playthroughs, it gets old and my head starts finding something else to focus on. This can be easy to accomplish if I own a copy of the song, as I can load it up and set the mp3 player to repeat. It's a bit more difficult if it's something I overheard though. Then I have to try and remember some of the lyrics so I can look the song up later. This becomes a bit more difficult if the song is not in English, or worse, an instrumental.

Once, my cousin Trey and I were eating at the now recently-rebranded Hwy 55 (formerly known as Andy's). For those unaware, Hwy 55 tries to recreate the 50's diner environment by playing old music over the in-store audio system. Since the music is basically stuff your parents got bored with listening to years ago, it reduces itself to background noise that you don't really notice. This time, however, they played a jazzy instrumental number that latched onto our brains and we couldn't get it out.

Since there was no lyrics, there was no way to look up the song. Also, unlike standard radio stations, there was no DJ to announce the name of the song. So it would just play on repeat in the back of my head with no salvation in sight. A year and a half later, I was in Toys R Us with a friend, browsing the toys, when a song came on over the in-store speakers. I recognized the tune as the same song from Hwy 55. But this time it had lyrics! Whipping out my smartphone, I was able to look up the song and find the original version that had no lyrics, called Soulful Strut. I was the most excited person to ever set foot on the My Little Pony aisle.

Well, second most excited

Kitties in the Mist

My colleague has been called away on business and has asked that I maintain her post at the feline sanctuary. Below are my observations on the indigenous cat tribe:

Upon entering the sanctuary, I'm astounded by a lack of greeting. Previous visits to the habitat prompted a welcome by the chief of the tribe, so the lack of any fanfare this time had me concerned. I decided to venture forth, to make sure that no catastrophic calamities had come upon the cat clowder.

I first checked the main living area of the habitat. Environmental changes over the past year had left this area with heavier foliage than typical, making it more difficult to tell if I was being watched.

I ultimately decided not to brave the jungle to find traces of the tribe and instead check their nesting and feeding area, located up a steep incline from my location. As I begin my ascent, picking my way through the tribal decorations that litter the slope, I note that the animal carcass that serves as a makeshift throne for the chief is also vacant.

At the top of the hill, I make my first sighting of the tribe. The chief comes to greet me, unaware of any concern on my part. We exchange the custom greeting of his people before venturing to the feeding area of their habitat. As we approach the area, I pass another member of their tribe. This one is slow to respond, as he is concentrating heavily on the smooth surface of the wall of the cave that houses their water supply. Perhaps he intends to decorate it in some elaborate painting? Further investigation is required. The sweat from his furrowed brow has run down his face to his mouth, resembling drool. Clearly his mind is fast at work, as noted by the vacant stare. Fascinating.

Entering the feeding area, another member of the tribe follows us in, this one the hunter of the group. He quickly seats himself at the trough that the tribe shares, looking at me expectantly. Clearly, hunting has not been fruitful for the tribe. I check the cache of supplies that my colleague keeps for the habitat and find a suitable meal for the cats. With the food distributed, I do a quick headcount of my wards. The three males of the tribe busy themselves with their meal, whereas the lone female is missing. The female is the least personable of the group, so it isn't in and of itself unusual for her to hide in my presence. Still, I must complete my headcount before I depart.

Found her!