Boxing Day Sale Shopping/Being a Decorum Dummy

I've recovered enough to at least arrive at a place to be of better humour. Recently, I was educated more about the Aboriginal shamanistic ceremony of "saging" a home. That involves the burning of a bundle of dried sage grass to produce a smoke smudge used to purify one's living space; to cleanse it of negative energy, and to drive out any unwelcome evil spirits. I learned about this by the way of someone I know, who chose this practice to close off this year: a more unfortunate one for her, and to prepare to open their home up and invite something better to come in the New Year. The Japanese also have a custom of welcoming the incoming New Year by cleaning their homes near the end of the old one: every room, from ceiling to floor. This is done to welcome the presence, and good favour and fortune of their kami, the god-spirits of the Shinto religion, into their dwellings. I have my own pre-New Year habit that is similar to that of the Japanese one. I've been cleaning in my own place as well: not so much to invite the right kind of benevolent spooks and divinities in here, but more to be mindfully organized, and to clear and set a stage for efficiency and order that will hopefully help to attract some form of prosperity, of any kind, in the New Year. Given my condition, I started today to break the process into modular phases. It should all end on New Year's Eve. I don't give much credence into stuff like conjuring up spirits, feng shui, or anything else that is as oogity-boogity. However, after this latest bout of events closing my last month and a half of this year, if rearranging furnishings and scrubbing things down coincidentally helps to rid this place of any lingering bad karma around here, I have no objections to it. I don't have any sage; I do have some sandalwood and musk incense though. I started to burn that too, just to cover my ass.

I also have another custom in my home as I organize stuff: not done so much out of superstition, but out of prudence and frugality. If I bring in a new furnishing, appliance, or technical fixture into my home, I'm relegated to clean at least the whole room where it will be stationed or stored, and then sell off/repurpose/donate/throw out the same volume of stuff (if not more). Such a ritual prevents me from accumulating clutter; and encourages me to be more thoughtful about balancing my living space, to avoid being wasteful, and to seek practical alternatives (if any). Knowing that there is ultimately an obligation (or penalty) of having to press myself into some distasteful task of cleaning later also psychologically prevents me from buying anything rashly and impulsively. Thus, to be effective and efficient, I tend to do my home furnishing shopping near the end of the year when the Boxing Day and Year End sales are on, when prices are slashed, and I'm when scheduled to clean anyway.

I looked in my living room, and said
 "I gotta have more cowbell!"
 However, that didn't happen.
Instead I did the next best thing
 and found more cowhide. Ella isn't yet
 sure if she likes it.

That past month and a half of being stuck in here and staring at my mostly naked walls has been a real sobering revelation as to how much my own condo really isn't my vision of what I would think of as a truly comfortable home. It's actually very devoid of any reflections or signatures of my true personality. Most of the time, it is just a glorified dog house, as it is in fact Ella who is the being that spends the most time inside here, strewing her chew toys all about. For me, because I spend the majority of my week at work, this place ordinarily is just utilitarian space where I sleep, bathe, do laundry, and cook and eat the occasional meal. With having all this time off, I was dumbstruck after realizing just how little time I actually spend living in here while I'm on my regular work schedule. The decorum, or rather the sad lack of it, is a true reflection of that. I realize that because of this I'm kind of reluctant to invite other people over. It's no wonder I've been staring at screens all this time, because I really don't consciously want to look at anything else around here. A few other things also prompted me to think that I should put more thought into making this a place more personalized with creature comforts, and less like a place where it looks like Value Village busted in here, drunk in the middle of the night, and vomited up random junk in every room. Things like, receiving some pictures of my brother's family in the mail, they deserve to be hung in special places. I made myself a promise to keep junk off my kitchen table and actually use it for eating my meals, instead of plunking down in front of the TV and eating mindlessly. I have a nice new(er) rug now to dissuade me from doing that, because I don't want to risk getting it soiled. Rather than collecting a new piece of technology, like I initially planned to do, I instead chose to go on the grand adventure of at least window shopping for decorum for my place.

So, I ended up taking a trip to HomeSense where, as per their moniker, I thought they would have a lot of obvious things to make a house even more homelike. To be honest, I was in a loopy/crazy disposition for much of the day, perhaps due to being (finally) hungry and having low blood sugar, right along with my already impaired uptake of blood oxygen, so my observations tended to get a little weird and skewed toward the realm of the right-brain. I made handy use of the camera on my cellphone to serve as a visual memory aide. I'll declare and affirm right now that I'm by no measure any kind of expert on home decorum, but I am wise enough to see and know what kind of crap is out there that doesn't make any sense to me whatsoever. I found a lot of instances where the store should have been renamed HomeNonsense. The following paragraphs and pictures I've listed are the random observations, home utilities, objectives for my own place, fancies, and other home-oriented concepts that made me wonder what kind of dope various artisans and craftsperson were smoking after viewing some of the stuff I saw there.

Observation: The Mega-Pot – I stumbled across a kitchen pot that would be every hard core home brewer's wet dream. The damn thing must have had at least a 120 litre capacity, a larger capacity than the fuel tanks of many half ton trucks. Being shocked and surprised, I was being silly and flippant at the moment when a young girl of seven or so, and her mother walked up to stare with awe at this strange anomaly along with me. I like kids at that age because their questions and answers are imaginative and spontaneous. Just to see the reaction, I turned to the young girl and said out loud:
"I wonder how many babies you could pack into that sucker?" She began to laugh and giggle uncontrollably, and I chuckled along right with her. Her Mama however didn't seem to appreciate this moment of levity, and kind of began to usher her away from me. At least the daughter had a sense of humour. The presence of this thing begs me to question: what kind of home is out there in which the wholesale purchasers of HomeSense thought it would be a perfectly sensible move to market a friggin' 120 litre cooking pot? This thing was made of stainless steel, and already heavy by itself.

Filled to capacity with liquid, it would easily crush my average-sized stove, that is if I could have ever got it on the damn thing! I guess this thing must have been there for that exact instant when a Hudderite colony should wander into their store looking for something to adequately cook all their borsht for them (for a whole bloody month!), or if the Jolly Green Giant comes along looking for something to steam his peas. I was going to get the young girl to stand by it to get a sense of the scale of this thing when I took the picture, but she and her mother already left, probably looking for Security. HomeSense 0, HomeNonsense 1.

Objective: The far wall opposite of my entrance at the end of my hallway – Initially, I thought I would hang a mirror on this wall space, to give it an illusion of greater space and depth. Then I thought again about when I'll be arriving home after work at night, and how I really don't want to have an instant reminder in seeing just how ghastly, disheveled, and bedraggled I look after an eleven hour day when I come through the door. I would want something a hell of a lot more welcoming than that. I may have to get creative and try to paint my own picture to hang there, but I think so far I like this one. HomeSense 1, HomeNonsense 1.

Objective: a utility, Drink Coasters – How is it that I'm using a drink coaster all the time when I'm at the bar; and yet I'm not so civilized enough to have them handy around my own home? Lord knows I do most of my serious drinking here at my own abode. Maybe I just don't set my glass down long enough around here. Apparently, throughout all this time, I've been one of those innovative bachelors who has figured out that any corner of a newspaper, or a DVD case, or the open end of one of my socks to slip around a drinking vessel works well enough to keep condensation rings and dribbles off my coffee table.

As eccentric as I am, I don't really use this kind
of makeshift coaster, but I was curious as to
know what the visual actually would look like.

However, that just doesn't work if I'm endeavoring to attract and keep a more sophisticated ilk of company. So, I decided to get some coasters. After looking around there without any success, I finally approached one of the stock clerks at the store: a somewhat scrawny, yet strangely attractive and comely young blond woman.
"Excuse me, where would I find the drink coasters?" I asked plainly. The look on her face after my query was one of an attempt to stifle bemused astonishment.
"We have no drink coasters here." she replied with a thick Slavic accent, sort of almost half spitting the answer at me before she turned away. I couldn't help but to react like this was the stupidest thing I ever heard. How in the hell can an establishment, dedicated and devoted to decorating a home with ornaments; a place that sells seemingly endless varieties of stemware, cocktail glasses and coffee/tea cups; a place that sells a plethora of tablecloths, trivets, place mats, napkins, throws, slip covers and other surface protection paraphernalia not have a single goddamned set of drink coasters in its whole entire massive inventory?! I'm being led to believe that there are dinner parties out there in this town where even the more elite homes are having their guests using magazines or their own socks slipped on their wine glasses to protect the furniture because there were none to be found anywhere. HomeSense 1, HomeNonsense 2.

Observation: Ridiculous packaging – Selling bottled water here in Canada apparently wasn't already a stupid enough idea. Unless you were going to a place with an actual tainted water supply, there is no need to buy bottled water here. Now, I just found something that trumps even that for marketing imbecility. Yes, that is, A BOX OF WATER!!! . . . a 5 litre box of water,

They actually have to add the
word "Happy" on the label
to encourage the miserably
stupid people to buy this.

packaged like it was exotic bulk wine from Chile or Australia. It's not even imported from some exotic locale, it's from right here in Canada sitting on that shelf. . . WTF !!! I was tempted initially to pick it up and check and see how outrageous the price was for such a thing, but then that impulse was quickly halted by the self-conscious fear of having some onlookers watching me handle it, and thinking to themselves, "Look at that stupid fucker over there, he is actually thinking about buying that BOX OF WATER!!!
 
Another thing that pissed me off and made me think about how affluence is making us devolve into something that is so much stupider as a society is what is in this next picture. Look at it. Kinda pretty, isn't it? Is it some finely-crafted chocolate bon-bons from Switzerland? . . . Nooooo! Is it an intoxicating fragrance from some boutique in Paris? . . .Nooooo! Is it a package of high-quality rolled up silk handkerchiefs? . . . Again, Noooooo! This is actually a package of plastic bags for collecting DOG SHIT!!! Why is it packaged like this? Is it to give people a fleeting window of appearing superior to someone else when they whip one of these out and bend over to pick up after Rover? I began looking for some gold-leaf embossed toilet paper there after I saw this. HomeSense 1, HomeNonsense 4.

Objective: Decorative, yet manly – Adjectives for things that I will not have in here: frilly, ephemeral, sparkly, pink, yellow, lacy, chiffon, fluffy, sheer, silky; that already eliminates about 40% of the merchandise in HomeSense. There are some things there that would suit me, but would go out of style too quickly as I mature. There are some definitely non-feminine, testosterone-charged things that guys embrace a little too willingly to use as ornaments in their homes, like antique license plates, sports memorabilia, heads of antlered beasts, or even the more ridiculous collections of swords and battleaxes. Unless there is an impending attack by a horde of Visigoths over the hill, I really have no need to keep medieval weaponry around the place. The same goes the relic pieces of vehicles: if I don't want that crap cluttering up my garage, why would I then draw it into my actual living space?

The weird manly things I'd probably have around here are wood carvings and figurines of animals, mathematically complex sculptures, hand puzzles and classic board games, and signs in tasteful calligraphy that reflect a simple personal philosophy, like what is seen on this serving tray. HomeSense 2, HomeNonsense 4.
 
Observation: HUH?!?! – And finally there is home ornamentation there that I just have no words for, as it just boogles my mind as to what kind of home these things would actually belong in. HomeSense2, HomeNonsense 6.

The perfect something for the gay cowboy/cult leader in the family

I don't know what this thing is supposed to
represent, but I can think of a few people
I'd like to have sitting on it.

A house is just walls and a roof, but a home is defined by the characters in it, which in turn are often reflected by the objects and artifacts that they chose to include in it and collect. Sadly, today's shopping trip was a reminder that there will always be people stupid enough to buy water in a box in a nation where it's free on the tap, and others who are pretentious and idiotic enough to by dog shit bags designed by Gucci. I wish all it took to cleanse these sorts of people away from me was burning some sort of herb. If I had only one wish for the New Year, it would be to encounter fewer and fewer people with this degree of stupidity. If that happened, about 90% of my problems in life would probably disappear.

Addendum: I at least managed to find some bloody coasters. I went to Pier One (a place too dangerously close to the Future Shop) for them. This time, I was helped by a stunningly beautiful store worker . . . another one with a thick Slavic accent coincidentally, but this time with some very pleasing proportions. They are of a black alligator skin texture (the coasters I mean, not the physical assets of the woman I mentioned). Nothing too pretty, and yet nothing too corny and cheesy: something you'd expect to find in a more sophisticated man cave.

Yuletide Gratitude

The 10 simple things making this a very nice holiday:

• Surviving November's ordeal (perhaps not so simple, but I'm thankful all the same), and being well enough to stay out of a hospital and to travel. Some people won't have this benefit this year.
• El Niño, and the consequential weather patterns that made the incredible scenes of hoar frost laden trees and buildings, and yet was mild enough to be out to enjoy such views before Christmas.
• A recent windfall that covered most of my Xmas shopping expenses.
• Watching the dog's reaction and excitement of receiving a gift from one someone. The aerial manoeuvers she performed to simultaneously greet an auntie, and then do a Kamikaze drive head first into a gift bag to get her treats was entertaining to watch. I wish I had video footage. It was like Ella Boo Boo's Flying Circus happening there and then.
• Discovering Gevalia coffee: it is divine stuff. Seeing that it comes from Sweden, the number one coffee-drinking nation in the world, one would think that they would know their stuff, and they sure do. Add that to the other great things to make it here from Sweden, like IKEA, ABBA, Skype, maybe the Koenigsegg hypercar, and Malin Åkerman*.
• Homemade Butter Tarts, Cabbage Rolls, Surprise Seafood Spread, and Turkey Stuffing with gravy. If this is all I had to eat for the holiday, I would still be quite happy.
• Dad having another birthday, and seeing that one more year of age hasn't stopped him from being the silly and witty old character that he is.
• My present: a set of cookware, a welcome new addition to the arsenal that is my kitchen. I guess I can finally retire the hand me down cooking pots that I have been using thus far.
• Not hearing so much ridiculous exposure on the news about the political correctness of using Happy Holidays versus Merry Christmas.
• Finally breaking some cycle of depression, and learning how to deal with all this being alone with idleness and no energy, and sitting still by myself without as much negative thinking and anxiety overwhelming me (again, perhaps not such a simple thing).

*- Well . . . I'm not too sure about ABBA or IKEA, Skype has glitches, and the Koenigsegg isn't even street legal here . . . but most definitely for sure, MALIN ÅKERMAN.

Approaching Solstice

I've been getting better throughout the past couple weeks. I would estimate that I've now recovered to some point between 65 and 75 percent of my pre-embolism self. Now however, it feels like I'm in a bit of a stall phase. I probably reached that point where the clots may have subsided, but the scar tissue that's left behind is slower to get through. Being able to get out during the brief thaw phase of this month to at least get some good fresh air and away from my own walls from time to time has been a relief. I still have to be wary and mindful about exposure to people with colds and the flu. I was warned that contracting anything with symptoms of respiratory impairment, even to a relatively mild degree, would put me several steps backward from recovery if I'm not careful. Thus, running out to a crowded mall to do Christmas shopping hasn't been on my to-do list. I did go out during a couple less busy days and times of the week, more so to meet up and visit with some friends and familiars than to do anything else. Otherwise, the only real physically active and sometimes social thing I've been doing is taking Ella out to the dog park.

So, now with it being payday, and the realization that Christmas is only six days away*, I now have a fire lit under my ass to finish my Christmas shopping. Being amongst the teeming hordes of shoppers is now unavoidable. Inspiration and ideas have been so far alluding me.
 
After being shut in for so long, and finally getting some more of my stamina and energy back, I strongly felt the need to explore: to get out and tour new places, see new things. I've become desperate for novelty. I also received a bit of a settlement recently; as tempting as it is to book a trip somewhere, I won't be medically fit for air travel for some while (Boo!). All the places I want to travel to are markedly more expensive than most vacation packages to Vegas or Mexico anyway, and will need more time to save for these locales. I hope the falling fuel prices help with achieving such a goal sooner.
 
In a past entry I talked about finding a substitute pastime for running, cycling and skiing. Well, recently I thought I should make good on not just making that lip service. I was inspired by a figure of a gargoyle in a bar recently and got to perusing some magazines in Indigo to consider taking up wood-carving. As cheap as carving sets can be though, I notice now that even when handling knives in doing my own kitchen prep that my hand-eye coordination is getting more crude. I just didn't want this to be another pastime that I'd be rashly taking up, only to drop later out of frustration. It would be my luck that I would be destined of somehow slashing open my hand or fingers by accident while on Warfarin as I chip away at some piece of wood and then bleeding out really badly. I later found a place in this town, one of the hobby shops, that is an outlet that sells the MakerBot series of 3D printers, and I got to finally witness a demonstration of one's capability for the first time. I just about bought one right there on the spot. It's a beautiful and marvelous thing: an entire workshop condensed into less than one cubic meter of space, easily fitting into the office space of my condo. I'm looking into really getting one, but the rest of my computer systems are so antiquated now, and I require a lot of upscaling in the basics of technology before I'd be able to get and use one practically.

The first few weeks of being out of the hospital have been worrisome for me, in regards to wondering if I'll really ever recover to 100% of my old self, and get enough of my strength, energy, and stamina back to endure the rigours of a typical 11 – 13 hour workday**. The recovery has been going well, but the path through it all is still riddled with potential landmines. It has been unsettling being left to wonder what options I'd have left to do vocationally if all I'd be doing is torturing myself and suffering more after going back. As miserable as office jobs make me, I do have to consider the real options for getting one for the long-term out of necessity in the near future. Creating options in a career in design/development and fostering them with an applicable interest or hobby is probably the way to go to avoid outrageous education expenses. Who knows really? Vocational counsellors seem to be getting further and further out of touch with the world for me to rely on anything on what they have to say. Finding/creating a job/career at this time that both pays well enough, and that I'd love to do (or can at least tolerate doing) while in this state is a huge challenge.

I'll hopefully know more about a route to take as I sort out things from next medical appointment coming next week.
 
*- Of that time, only three days are available for me to use for shopping, the pressure's on . . .
** - Commuting time included.

More Sick Leave Ponderings

It's Week Three post-hospital. Today I resumed a mission of re-organization. It started at first of the month, with paying bills, and taming down the stack of accumulated papers, correspondence, and other junk mail. I have only entered my office space maybe only three times since the middle of November, and now I'm trying to deal with the runaway state of entropy and chaos that has struck the place. I also went to the office of the Canadian Lung Association today to see if there were other options they had available to expedite a faster course of recovery for me. They had nothing new to share with me in terms of more strategies to use other than what I'm already doing. I was just given reminders: to be patient, to note that I am making progress (even if it's coming slowly), to avoid reviewing recovery information on the Internet (too much conflicting/bad information), and to just be thankful that I managed to survive this ordeal.

I've realized that this has so far been the longest time I've ever been off work, surpassing by a couple of weeks or so the longest stretch of vacation days I've ever had. The following random thoughts have been occupying my mind. I have no gumption to elaborate on them better, so I will just list them in a rough outline:

1. Discovering how badly in which impaired breathing affects my ability to mentally focus: I'm trying to commit to writing exercises (at least around 500 words a day, including this entry) but it just isn't flowing like it should. I usually can noodle out four star logic problems in a puzzle magazine without many errors or much backtracking, but now I'm having trouble keeping a bead on the clues of one and two star problems. I usually dominate in Jeopardy, now I'm zonking out midway through the show. I'm learning directly by comparison just how quality thinking is heavily dependent on getting oxygen. I never realized until now about just how much energy is really needed to just to be able to physically speak and sustain even a short conversation. I recently discovered that through my online chats that thinking, speaking and writing in a foreign language somehow deceptively uses about four times more energy than for me to speak English, and it wears me out quickly.
2. Discovering the hard way how ignorant I've been about how potentially harmful cold air is: The shock of sucking in air from a -42 wind chill outside with buggered up lungs is a bit of a jolt.
3. Wondering ahead to the retirement years: If I'm managing this poorly with the malaise and boredom of being this inactive and away from work or anything else useful right now, what the hell am I going to be like if I actually reach some age when I've really become some kind of feeble old man?
4. Thinking that I really need a meaningful new hobby/creative pastime: I haven't figured out yet what kind of low-impact, non-physical pastime I could do that serves as a satisfying substitute for running, hiking, biking, and skiing. It has to be one that's cheap to do and doesn't require me further straining my eyes by staring at screens or dealing with an intense amount of visual detail. From Wednesday, I can say that pissing around with wiring and trying to reconfigure network connections lacks some appeal, so electronics is out. Making more wine or beer is pointless because I'm well-stocked, lacking the storage room for it, and I can't regularly imbibe now due to the medications. Cooking without an appetite is uninspiring and seems like a waste of time also.
5. Discovering a changing attitude toward having company: Introversion usually suits me. It used to be such that I never had a problem being my own best company and to relish in any quiet moment of solitude I could get. Now the prolonged period of isolation and disengagement from the public due to both this condition and the past cruddy weather is starting to dull my wits and senses a bit. It seems that as I regain more ability to have longer conversations, the more willing I am to have some company. I never used to be as needy to be social this way.