Archive for #3

With friends like these

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , on August 17, 2013 by Johnny Broken

There’s something that’s been bugging me, and I just wanted to… bring it up here, I guess, while I’m still so annoyed by the whole thing.

First off, a bit of context to the situation.

I know you may find it just a wee bit hard to believe, but I don’t have that many friends in real life. In fact, for the better part of the last three years, I’ve counted two guys as the totality of my friends. And “friends” in this case are people who would contact me, to want to do something with me. Thing is, of those two guys, one of them, let’s call him #8, he moved out of state last month. And the other guy is #3.

And to put it lightly, #3 is a bit of an asshole. I mean we get along for the most part, and we have similar interests and all that, but he really, REALLY gets on my nerves sometimes. In Geek terms, he’s Chaotic Neutral, and I’m Lawful Evil. He’s also one of those kinds of people that absolutely refuses to admit that anything is ever his fault.

-He gets pulled over by the cops (repeatedly) for his car not being inspected, because the police are out to get him. (Not because he’s too damn lazy to get his car inspected in time.)
-He won’t get his car inspected or insured when he’s supposed to because the mechanic and insurance agency are out to screw him for his money.
-He was fired from his job because the boss is an incompetent moron out to screw him. (Not because #3 is a rude asshole who regularly misses work.)
-He’s broke because his part-time job didn’t file his paperwork properly AND the government is out to screw him, so he can’t get Unemployment any time soon. (Not because he’s too lazy and arrogant to just go out and get a fucking job.)

You get the idea, yeah? And he’d never admit it, but he’s a borderline ADD case. If he could help it, he’d constantly being trying something different every two minutes because he got bored with what he was just doing. (Me, I tend to get one track minded with something I like, causing me to stick with it for years.)

I don’t ever… well, I rarely ever bring up these counter points to his ramblings because I really don’t like arguing all that much. In fact, you really could say that by default, I really don’t act like a “typical” guy with people I think I get along with. I don’t do jocky type frat boy shit like pranks or constant teasing. (I got enough of that shit in school. I don’t consider myself to be that level of a jackass to inflict that on others.) I’m not a physical person, I don’t fight. Don’t get me wrong, I WILL make fun of someone if they annoy me, but I rarely do it just to be an asshole. #3, he doesn’t really follow this code. The bastard constantly rags on me for the stupidest shit like I’ve committed some grave sin.

So anyway. A couple months back #3, #8 and I started a writing project for a website. For the most part, we all agreed how to handle it, but #3 and I disagreed on what I still think is a fundamental part of what we were trying to accomplish. I think a blog based website, ideally speaking, should be updated with new content AT LEAST once a week. You could go two weeks between updates, but that’s pushing it.

#3 disagrees with this like I’m trying to drag him to a Southern Baptist church. His first explanation was that he thinks of a website like a concert. And even if you really like your favorite band, you don’t go see them play every week, because you’d get sick of them. It took a while, but I finally got it into his head that his comparison didn’t even work because of the amount of time involved in watching a band versus reading a column online.

Then he started rambling about his own online viewing habits.

It’s hard to explain, but he basically has OCD when it comes to reading… anything… online. He just skims articles through a reader and moves onto the next site, because if he stays on any one website for too long, the internet goblins will catch his scent and reach through the screen and grab him. Or something. He’s bitched to no end about how much he hates going to a site and seeing that they’ve posted multiple updates in a single day, because regardless of the content of the update, he thinks he needs to read them all before he can move on. So naturally, that applies to everyone else.

Gah.

Skip ahead to the last update for our site. About a week after our last column was posted, I started a column the week before #8 was to move out of state. I understand the guy was moving and priorities and all, but it took him a full two weeks to add in his first part to the column. #3 added in his part in a few days, and I add my next part in twenty-four hours like I always do. #8 took around another week to add his next part, but #3 took a little over two weeks to add in his next part, explaining that he’s lost his primary internet access until further notice. (See the above about him and his current lack of money.) At this point, I’m thinking the incredibly loose schedule we were keeping was beyond fucked, so there was really no rush. I relayed as much to #8. Six days later, #3 has the gall to send me this email.

“Your internet still works right? Why aren’t you doing the blog during the week when I have computer access? If you’re done I can finish it up without you.”

This was my response.

“We’re around 4 weeks off any sort of schedule already anyway. As I said last week, a few days won’t make much difference at this point.”

And his following reply (which I received on 8/12) was the thing that’s pissed me off to no end.

“So, your solution to the problem of the progress being too slow for you is taking an extra long time to do your parts? Because then at least you are the problem?”

Are you fucking serious? I’m responsible for six days of over FOUR WEEKS and I’m the problem?! It’s my fucking fault that he obviously doesn’t give a shit about the project anymore because I know he’s spent hours typing up other shit for a game we’re playing AND he doesn’t even have a full time job now.

I usually hang out with #3 Friday nights, and we’ve been doing a gaming night with a couple other guys Saturday nights. #3 sent me one text after that email on Friday, and I never responded. (My initial plan was to just ditch everyone I knew for the entire weekend, but boredom won out over anger Saturday and I went along.) And I was half tempted to return the last two books I’ve borrowed from #3 so I could just stop talking to him until I cooled down. If I ever did.

(This isn’t the first time he’s pulled something that got me to stop talking to him for a lengthy period of time. That disaster involved a girl, but the worst part about that whole thing is that he has NO idea that I’m… still… angry that he “got” the girl I had been talking to. But that’s another story for another day.)

And since I don’t really talk to anyone else, I’m honestly asking here. Am I overreacting? Am I justified? These last few days I’ve seriously been contemplating trying to burn the desire for human companionship out of my system. Again. Why bother trying to be friendly when everyone hates me?

-Johnny

Planning concluded

Posted in Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , on July 3, 2013 by Johnny Broken

So there I was, nice and thin with a girlfriend. And then I went through that Satanist phase. Which lead to a stay in the mental ward, and a school transfer, and a couple months of eating nothing but a fruit pie for lunch at school. Before I knew it, I wasn’t so thin anymore. Drastic action needed to be taken. Sadly, what caught my eye this time was a commercial for a particular brand of diet pills. I saw no evidence at the time that you couldn’t substitute those for half the day’s meals, so I figured what the hell. I was sort of getting results, what’s the worst that could happen? (And yeah, now I know that the “worst” is basically everything, but I digress.) After around 3 months of taking the diet pills on and off, I got my first maybe-I-should-stop-taking these scare, and that was the end of that. But I was still like 145 pounds.

Skip ahead a while to a local concert I went to during winter when it was like 15 degrees outside. In the club, the people I was with wanted to be as close to the band as possible. So when the headlining act hit, I ended up spending like an hour and a half approximately 2 feet away from the business end of a smoke machine. And remember what I was saying about this being during winter? Well, we were soaked with sweat by the time we left, so it seemed like a grand ol’ idea to walk the couple blocks from the club to the car without our jackets on.

The next day, I woke up feeling horrible. Okay, just a cold, I hoped. By the end of the day, I realized it was the onset of the flu. And the next morning, I felt even worse. And when I woke up 2 days later with freaking pink eye, it was almost funny. I had never been that sick in my life. When I finally got to the doctor the next day, I’ll never forget his reaction. In the examining room, he stepped away from me to look at my chart. Then he looked at me again, inched back, took another look at the chart, inched back again, and then he finally spoke. “You are still very sick, and will need some time to recover. You’re also very contagious right now, so I recommend avoiding contact with others as much as possible.” What was hilarious was that he still kept inching back as he talked, till his back was to the door. And right after he said “possible” you could faintly see the cloud of dust from when he slipped out the door and called for a nurse.

My friends dubbed this period when I was sick with everything at once my “lichification,” because when I finally showed up again after spending two weeks on my death bed, I was like 15 pounds lighter. (And I know it’s bad to have to explain a joke, but a “lich” is a wizard who purposefully turns himself into an intelligent zombie that can use magic, thusly becoming immortal in the process.) My transformation into a lich has been the running gag with friends of mine ever since I dropped below 135 pounds. That’s geek gallows humor for you, I guess.

That’s also why when #3 comments about thin people versus fat people, he says I don’t count because I have a flesh eating disease. Plus there was my hernia surgery that seemingly also had the side effect of stapling my stomach. (I was having major trouble processing food after said surgery, which lead to periodic 10-14 hour long bouts of intense pain. Took some time, but I’ve been able to keep that problem in check.) Ungodly levels of pain aside, I’ve likened the experience to having suddenly gained the stomach capacity of a 6 year old girl. So these days I really have to be careful about what I eat. Can’t eat too much because I’ll either get sick or, y’know, gain weight. But I also need to eat enough to actually maintain weight.

A few months after all that, I got a stomach virus around Thanksgiving. (Which has to be the worst time of the year to be unable to eat much of anything.) That knocked me down to 118, which I hadn’t seen on the scale since my back surgery. But that was also when I started getting this odd burning sensation in my lower back. Signs pointed to that possibly having something to do with loss of muscle mass, and getting back up to 121 or so seemed to make that burning sensation go away. And that’s why about 121-123 is my current goal. Of course, I slowly crept back up to 134 pounds again. A last panicked push with some increased diet and exercise stuck, and I haven’t gone over 130 ever since. I’m at about 126 now, so my goal is reasonable.

But I’ve also noticed something else. At 130, I wanted 127. Then I’d hit 127 and be thrilled. Then I’d stumble into 125 and be ecstatic. And then I’d lose momentum and be back at 127. So when I was at 130 I felt, well, fat, and 127 felt better. But after hitting 125, 127 felt just as fat as 130 did. 127 became the new 130, if you will. And I’m sure 124 will be the new 127.

Oddly enough, I get asked every now and then if I’ll ever “go back” to being as big as I used to be. My approximate response is always “Oh fuck no” regardless of how much my sweet tooth screams in protest. Granted I don’t really have anything to show for my effort, but… no. I’m not going back.

It’s also come to my attention via Twitter that my *holds the tip of a thumb and pointer finger a hair apart* tiny obsession with my weight may classify as anorexia. And… I’m not sure how I feel about that. I mean to be honest, I see the mantra “skip dinner, wake up thinner” and I can’t really bring myself to argue with it. And for as much as people comment on how thin I am these days, I get annoyed when I see a guy thinner than me. Oh, I think, he has to have a girlfriend. Maybe if I was as thin as him, I could actually get a girl too.

-Johnny