Is it Considered Hoarding if You Don't Even Know You Have It?

 I have too much stuff. Stuff that sits in boxes and much of it I forgot I even have. Stuff that collects dust that I know is there, but I never actually get around to using. Stuff that serves no purpose other than to take up space. Stuff I haven't used in years, but I'm always fearful that once I get rid of it I'll suddenly find a need of it. Stuff I don't even want around anymore, but I just don't know how to part with. Stuff upon stuff upon stuff, driving me crazy when I thought much of it would help to keep me sane. 

A lot of the stuff in small boxes was stuff I bought meaning to be souvenirs. But not the kind of souvenirs that helped me to remember fun trips with friends. Most of them were souvenirs I bought thinking they'd make for good things to show off later in life. Ideally to a girlfriend that might one day be my wife and then to young kids that find the whole world fascinating. And of course to friends that are easily impressed and think that me owning a deck of cards with pictures of castles on them makes me some kind of jet-setter. A lot of souvenirs that got put into a box never to be brought back out. 

There's gaming stuff that never gets used. Board games and game systems. I keep telling myself one of these days I'll play those games I spent $50+ for, but I have no idea when I'll ever really have the time again. There's other things to be focused on. Not to mention, and I hate to admit it, but video games rarely entertain me the way the once did. As for the board games, when am I ever going to be the guy that has a regular gaming group, especially one I trust enough to allow into my house? 

There's a 2005 Honda Accord taking up half my driveway. I'm not even sure it runs anymore. I should have sold it years ago when I could have likely got $1k for it. Now I'll likely have to pay someone to haul it away. But even that I'm worried to do. There's this fear something will happen to my Bronco and I'll need the Accord for a backup car, but I know the reality is I would just let myself go further into debt to get a newer vehicle that's reliable. 

I don't dare want to go into my collection of Magic cards that's still growing despite me only getting to play a couple times a month.

My collection of old clothes that I swear I'll fit back into one day takes up more space in my closet than the clothes I do currently fit into. Though honestly I think a lot of the reason I don't get rid of most of them is pure laziness. Well, this weird mixture of laziness and of this feeling that no one wants my old clothes anyways (even the stuff I barely, if ever, wore).  

So many books I'll never read and movies I'll likely never watch again. But I feel the need to hold on to the books just in case. I'm not even sure just in case of what - if I suddenly find myself with the time to read more, I'm going to be playing video games again instead. As for the movies, those along with my CDs are probably the two things I don't feel that bad about hoarding. Streaming services are just getting crappier and crappier as they chase the happiness of their shareholders over that of their customers and I think before too long I'll be happy to have my own movies to watch.

I could probably go on for awhile. Kitchen appliances, exercise equipment (except my treadmill - that does get used), outdoor gear, sports gear, jiu-jitsu DVDs, TV wall mounts (I have three that aren't used!), and so on. So much stuff I just don't need, won't use, and yet can't get rid of. So much stuff reminding me of all I don't have.  

Song of the Day 

A Blue Wave of Hope

Midterm elections were yesterday. Much to my surprise, democrats won very bigly. (Though Alaska is still struggling to find out who our winners are). And as much as I historically haven't liked rooting for one party over the other, I think ever since Trump entered politics, the republican party has gone to shit. So this morning I woke up rather happy. 

I don't want to say I'm super hopeful for the future of the US. I would call it more "cautious optimism." It's already known that many democratic politicians receive campaign donations from the same companies and institutions that donate to republicans. Then there's the fact that many of them are cowards too scared to go after and prosecute the corrupt (especially the corrupt outside their party). 

Then there's the fact these newly elected people don't take office until January, giving the current jackasses in D.C. plenty of time to make an already shitty situation worse. I know a lot of people think it'll just be a lame duck congress for the next couple months, but many republican senators and representatives have already shown a willingness to do whatever Trump asks of them. It would not surprise me if they use the rest of their time in office to enact as much of his horrible agenda as possible. I'm not saying it will happen - I certainly hope it doesn't - I'm just saying I won't be surprised if it does. 

And then even after all the ousted congress members are gone and the new ones are in, there's still the fact that the most corrupt human being to ever sit in the oval office will still be there for another two years (I'm hoping this blue wave stops all the talk of him seeking a third term). In a perfect world, he'd be impeached, removed from office, tried and convicted for treason, and then the rest of the world might be able to begin trusting the U.S. again. But this isn't a perfect world and I think at best we'll see another impeachment that's done for the cameras while he remains in office, shitting himself. It is looking good though that Hegseth will be gone before long and while I doubt they'll try him for treason as well, just having him no longer the SecDef will be very nice. 

But despite all my pessimism, there is still hope. And that's in the fact Americans showed up to vote in huge numbers. That as a country, most of us said we're not OK with the clown show this administration is putting on and we're going to do something about it. Hopefully, as boomers continue to die off (a little ironic how many of them might stick around longer if they didn't vote to gut their own healthcare) we'll begin to see real, positive change in this country.  

Song of the Day 

No One Reads This Anyways

And that's OK, I think I mostly write it with a vain daydream that someday I'll somehow be so important that somehow I'll be so important a figure that my past thoughts and feelings will be considered relevant even though they'll have no actual relevance. 

Pretty sure I'm going blind in my left eye. Or at least something is going on there as my vision in that one eye has gotten quite blurry. But American medicine being what it is, I have to wait til the new year for an exam to be covered by my insurance and I don't want to use my credit card for something that might turn out to be nothing. Like originally I thought it was a corneal abrasion, but it seems to be sticking around longer than what I would think one would (been close to a month now).

Went to play Magic today at an LGS for some Halloween commander event they were hosting. It was earlier in the afternoon and I figured there would be plenty of other people there - surely I wasn't the only loser without Halloween plans. Turns out I was. Well, there was already one pod of regulars playing there, but no one else showed up. Took me nearly an hour of waiting before I gave up on playing. First commander deck I ever built from scratch (just for this event) and it didn't get used. C'est la vie.

My jury duty this week turned out to be pretty boring. I didn't make it past the selection round for two trials. Didn't get a meet-cute either, which isn't surprising, but is depressing. Or more like it's par for course, but I fucking hate golf.

I've been a shitty dog owner. Like I never get Hamlet out as much as I should. And I feel like shit for it, but never so bad that I get him out more. Especially during fall and spring. It's just always so wet and dirty around here and I think Hamlet hates getting a bath even more than I hate giving them to him. 

Sometimes I think back to my drinking days and remember how I hardly ever got Hamlet out. It doesn't help me feel better about the current situation, but I do appreciate I'm not that bad anymore. 

Which makes me wonder if maybe when Hamlet finally passes on (which I hope never happens, but I know that reality makes that impossible), maybe that's when I start drinking again. I know on paper things are going a lot better for me since I got sober. But I don't feel that much better. Most the time I don't feel better at all. Drunk misery probably wouldn't be good for me, but drunk misery seems more appropriate. Again, it wouldn't be any time soon (at least I certainly hope not), but who the fuck was I kidding when I got sober at early middle-age thinking I had the time to fix what really needed to be fixed. Who the fuck am I kidding to think it was ever fixable. 

I'm going to have canned soup for dinner tonight. Which feels like one of the most depressing foods possible, at least in the particular circumstances. On the plus side, it should help rehydrate me after the roasted beet ice cream I tried earlier did a number on my stomach I hadn't experienced since my drinking days. 

Song of the Day 

(An Interlude in) A Story About Arguing with God

This picture is from one of my happiest memories, even thought I'm in uniform and even then I hated being in uniform when not at work. (Unfortunately it's a bad quality version of the pic as I'm unable to find the original right now and I'm beginning to think it may be lost forever).

In South Carolina I met a really great group of people at this little campus church called The Shack. It was through conversations with a lot of them I gave up on my attempt to not believe in God. I was able to accept (at least to some degree) that faith isn't perfect nor is it easy. But that's all for discussion another time, this is about that night: my last night in South Carolina before leaving for England.

(Memory being what it is, I know I'll get some details wrong. So I'm going to try and be sparse on details and stick to point, whatever it may be). 

I was expecting that last night to be pretty boring. I thought it might just be Guillermo, my ride to the airport in the morning, and I hanging out and maybe someone else from The Shack might stop by. In reality I was kind of frustrated because it seemed like so many people from this group I'd gotten to know over the past few months were all suddenly busy and wouldn't be able to hang out on my last night in town. But sometimes that's just the way things go and I was trying not to be too upset by it. 

Part of me was trying to formulate a plan to maybe ditch Guillermo for a bit and maybe find a bar where maybe I might be able to use my story about my last night in America for awhile to get some attention from some random woman at the bar. But Guillermo insisted we go by The Shack because he forgot something there he needed to go grab. And for whatever reason he needed me to come in to the house with him. 

And that's when I saw all these people, there to throw be a surprise going away party. Part of me immediately felt bad because I'd just smoked a cigarette and I felt guilty for smelling like a damn smoker. But most of me had never felt so loved in a single moment. Like I remember being close to crying. Thankfully, someone suggested I get into uniform for a picture and any chance at tears was immediately pushed away. 

Anyways, I know this isn't the greatest way of telling the story, but I feel the moment is actually quite important in my story about arguing with God. And I still think about this night quite a bit. And most these people.

All the way to the right (my left) is Tony. He and I had some good conversations about doubt. And also some good talks about music. Hopefully one of these years, before too long, I can get another good conversation in with him. I actually saw him a about eight years ago down in New Orleans and we talked a little bit, mostly about where our lives were and all that. But for me it was kind of an awkward conversation because all I really wanted to do was go out and get drunk, not have semi-serious conversation with an old friend.

Next ti him was a guy that I think was named Matt. However, I didn't know him that well. He was new to The Shack at the time and since I knew I was soon to be gone when he showed up, I didn't make much effort at establishing a connection. And then he showed up to my going away. There's probably a lesson for me in all that. 

I won't even try to pretend I remember the young woman's name immediately on my left. I remember being absolutely smitten with her though, like the moment I met her not too long before this night happened. However, she was dating my buddy Matt (a different Matt - The Shack had a disproportionate number of Matts in those days) and I felt guilty for having anything even remotely like a crush for this woman.

Then there's Guillermo, one of the most patient people I'd ever met. I could've learned a lot from him, but I think I was always feeling in too much of a rush to take the time to do so. Which is a shame - even now I'd say patience, or lack thereof, is one of my bigger weaknesses. Kind of funny considering I have no idea what I'm trying to rush to, but I hate this feeling I'm not getting there fast enough.

Next to him and almost directly behind me is Amy. I taught her how to play chess. Within a few months she was regularly beating me. More for her than for me, but I like to pretend that shows just what a good teacher I am. I also remember that once during a group coffee session she gave me a pink cup to drink from and I made such a big deal about it she made sure I always got that cup when we all met for coffee after church. They actually gave me that cup as a going away gift and everyone signed it. But my dumb ass put the cup in the dishwasher and all the signatures washed away. Then the cup also cracked and was no goof for holding liquid anymore, but I still have it. 

Next is Christine. I could write a whole blog on Christine. In fact I'm pretty sure I did on one of my old blogs long ago. One of the wisest people I've ever been lucky enough to have a conversation with and one of the few people in my life I try to get a Christmas card out to every year (though I also promised her a letter about why the 90's was the greatest decade of our lifetime and I still haven't gotten to writing that). She's also quite an amazing artist and whenever I'm wealthy, I'm buying some of her work for decorating my house.

Then there's Alison. She made the best sweet tea I've yet to have in my life and even though I try to replicate it every now and then, I always fail miserably. She was also one of the most generous hosts I've ever been fortunate enough to be served by. But I think what I remember most is how passionate her love for Jesus seemed. Genuinely so. I don't know how her relationship with God is these days, but I do remember how awesome it was back in the day listening to her talk about Jesus like he was an actual friend she knew. Whereas for me he's always felt more as a friend-of-a-friend.

The tall guy next to Alison is her husband, Tyler. Tyler might be, or at least was, one of the most easily likeable people I'd ever met. Like the dude could just walk into a room and it seemed like everyone was ready to be his friend. I wanted to be jealous of him for it, but I liked him too much to have any real anger towards him. On the other side of that coin, I was also quite intimidated by him for it and while I didn't avoid him, it just felt hard for me to have any sort of open conversation. I don't know if that makes sense, but I do remember that being how I felt back then.

Finally there's Cindy. At least I think that's her name. I feel horrible for not fully remembering. Especially since she was the person to introduce me to Death Cab for Cutie, a band that I would just a couple years later drive four hours (each way) to see one two occasions. But what really sticks out for me is that I think her and I had a lot more in common back then than I wanted to think we did. Like we could have had some really good conversations, but I always avoided them. She had a fling with a buddy of mine and for whatever reason, I felt that made it inappropriate for me to talk with her. I don't know, I had some serious social hangups back then. Still do, but I figure if I focus on the historical ones I don't have to worry about the current ones.

Anyways, this went way longer than I meant it to as I rambled on about old friends like some old man trying to hold on to a past that's taking reality with it as it slips away. I miss all these people and I hope they're all living wonderful lives right these days. And even though I know it's not likely I'll see most (if any) of them ever again, I'll always cherish them for that one night they all made me feel like the man of the hour. 

Song of the Day 

(The Beginning of) A Story About Arguing with God

Like many white kids that were raised in a church environment in the 80's and 90's, I grew disillusioned with Christianity in my teen years and that carried on a bit into my 20's as well (and honestly still carries on a bit today, but it's a different disillusionment for different reasons). My reasoning for said disillusion though was pretty pathetic. Other kids were just questioning the idea of God, like maybe there could be something else out there. Or maybe they saw all the pain in the world and thought how can there be a God if all this suffering exists? And some people I know didn't directly become disillusioned, they just quit caring because they really didn't feel a need to do so. But not me; nope, I wanted to not believe in God because it always looked to me like the non-Christian kids were always having more fun in life. They got to drink and party and have sex and all the good stuff, while I was stuck at home like some sort of Bible-thumping loser.

At no point in my decision that I was going to no longer believe in God did I take into consideration that many of the same kids I saw at church on Sundays were the same kids out partying on other days. Don't get me wrong, I knew that these kids were out doing that - I just silently judged them for doing so and considered them fake Christians. What I wasn't taking into consideration was that maybe the reason I wasn't out partying is because no one was inviting me to their parties. Or to put it more precisely, I assumed I wasn't being invited because people knew I was a Christian - I didn't think it was literally that no one wanted me there.

So I decided at some point, and I really wish I could find a journal entry from around then because I'm sure I have one, that I just didn't believe in God anymore. I took the edgy stance of being agnostic and saying that the Bible has some good lessons, but how can we know if God is real? Of course, this was bullshit for me - no matter how much I might want to not believe in the Judeo-Christian God, deep down I knew that I really did. Regardless, I was sure to tell people that I no longer believed in God and was no longer Christian. I figured once I told enough people, those party invited would start showing up any day now...

I think I went to all of two house parties during my high school years and I wasn't specifically invited to either of them. But those cringe-inducing stories are for another time. 

More relevant to this story is even though I was still trying not to believe in God - shortly after high school while I was trying to figure out what I want to do with my life - I still felt like God was calling me to be a high school teacher. And I was so sure of this calling that, after a lot of wasted (but enjoyed) time, I joined the air force with the full intention of doing my one enlistment to earn the GI Bill and then go to school to get my teaching degree.

This would lead to me being stationed at Shaw AFB, SC where I would meet a lot of wonderful people and I would eventually give up on the idea of trying to not believe in God. It didn't mean all my questions about God went away and it certainly didn't get rid of my desire to party and drink and all of that. It just meant I could start being a lot more honest with myself, at least a little bit. 

Now we're at a point where I'm done arguing with God about whether or not I believe he's real. I also admit that Jesus Christ is his son and my savior. I'm also still quite sure he's called me to teach high school and I've begun taking classes to start working towards that goal. But the best part? I have an assignment to an air force base in England - God was sending me to live in England for three years! And I was absolutely positive he was sending me there so I could live out my ultimate Anglophile fantasy - to marry a proper English woman with that wonderful accent and she would move back to the U.S. with me where all my friends would be amazed by her. It's also important to note that going with me to England would be my desire to party and drink and all of that.

Song of the Day 

My Social Circle is a Dot

I don't know how it happened - maybe it was quitting drinking or maybe it was political posts I made on Facebook before I deleted it - but I have virtually no real social life. I get out on occasion when I can (working swing shift has definitely made that harder than it used to be), but it's never with a consistent group of people. Like there's no one around I consider a close friend these days.

And I don't mean that in some spiteful way, I wish those people all the best in their lives. But there's no true confidant or someone I feel I could go to just to get some stuff off my chest. Instead there's just this stupid blog with the occasional anonymous reader. And those occasions are fewer and fewer these days as well. Which is probably for the better considering all the inane shit I write. Maybe all of this is for the better.

If people quit wanting to hang out with me because I've begun making a lot of things political, that's just how it is. I know it's annoying - but we're at a point in history where just trying to ignore it and hoping it all blows over shouldn't be an option. And I feel like too many people I know are taking that option. Or even worse, some people I once hung out with are likely cheering on the US's descent into fascism, and I think I'm better off being lonely rather than being around people who support that.

As for people that don't want to hang out with me now that I'm sober, I totally get that. I know when I was drinking, even if someone swore up and down being around drinkers didn't bother them, it still bothered me to have them around. I don't know why, sober people just seemed to just kill my drunk vibe just by being there. I'm not saying that's the case for the people I used to hang out with, but I would totally get it. 

Maybe it's something else entirely and/or a combination of lots of things. I got told at work a few weeks ago that I have "resting asshole face." I didn't know that was a thing, but it makes sense. I also seem to sweat more than I used to. I don't know what that's about and while historically I don't think I've ever been one of those people that stink when they sleep, maybe that's change. Maybe I'm now the stinky guy and I don't even know it.  

It's also depressing to think that my closest friend right now is a woman from active duty. Obviously, as a fan of traditions, I have a crush on her as well, but I'm doing alright in not even kidding myself there's a chance for anything romantic between us. Partly because I mostly know better, but also because she's active duty and her time here in Alaska is limited. Very limited at this point. So I just do my best to enjoy myself on the occasions we do hang out (which aren't really that often) and not think about it much when we don't. I wouldn't even call her a close friend, just my closest by default.

 I do still have Hamlet at least. He's not much for conversation, but he doesn't criticize my singing off key either, so that's a plus. And sometimes, when I'm getting ready for bed, he'll lay on the bed and warm it up so I don't crawl into bed onto cold sheets. I know he's not doing that on purpose, but it's still nice when it happens. And despite him obviously being a senior dog at this point, he still gets lots of compliments for being cute when I take him out. On the other hand, he's begun snoring more often and louder as he's gotten older and I don't know of any fixes for dogs snoring. 

I know I'm complaining of a problem of (at least partly) my own making. And certainly a problem that is up to me to fix. I guess I just didn't realize how hard it would be to feel a connection with people as I got older. I know lots of people talk about it, but it was always one of those things I thought I wouldn't have to deal with. Like I was somehow so special for intangible and unknowable reasons.  

Song of the Day 

Mid-Week Mundaneness

While I'd planned for myself a four day weekend, it inadvertently turned into a five day weekend for myself. Making today my first day back since last Thursday. And I can't remember a time I've felt so out of place just wearing the uniform. 

I mean, I normally feel a little less like my real self when I wear the thing. And I'm OK with that. I've decided the tradeoff between wearing the uniform and being able to live the lifestyle I currently do vs. feeling like I'm fully being true to who I am in how I present myself, to be worth it. Normally my biggest problem with wearing the uniform is not being allowed to have a beard. That and the colors really don't help to bring out my eyes. But today it was something else. Like I was trying to live a completely fraudulent life.

Don't get me wrong, I have no plans of quitting any time soon. For starters, I signed a contract to keep serving until at least April 2028 and I plan to honor that contract. Also, I'm in no position financially to quit right now. At best I could stretch my finances out for about three months before I start missing payments on something and I don't think that would be nearly enough time for me to find a comparable job. 

Anyways, the point is that it really threw me off my game at work today just by having that initial feeling of uneasiness when I put the uniform on. By the end of the day of course I felt mostly back to normal, but there's still this lingering "what the fuck was that?" feeling in back my mind. Hopefully it was just a one-off thing, at least for the foreseeable future - too much to be doing these days to have feelings like that distracting me. 

Song of the Day