Personally, I don't celebrate Christmas. It's not my holiday. It hasn't been for many years. Since the early 90's, I think. But does it bother me when somebody wishes me a "Merry Christmas?" Of course it fucking doesn't. Why would it? All this faux outrage over not being able to say "Merry Christmas" is categorically absurd. Nobody cares. Celebrate your Christmas all you want. Nobody is trying to take it away from you. And yet here we are. I'm dealing with people "taking back Christmas" by aggressively wishing people a "Merry Christmas"... especially towards people like me who they know darn well don't celebrate it. No idea why. Especially since I am happy to join in on other people's celebrations of Christmas. Just like I'm happy to join in on anybody else's celebrations and traditions if they'll have me.
So... yeah. I am happy to acknowledge Christmas. It was my entire world when I was a kid. But as I grew up and realized that there were loads of other winter holidays that existed in the world outside of mine, I was happy to acknowledge those as well.
And so I say "Happy Holidays"... which is inclusive of whatever holiday YOU celebrate (including Christmas!)... along with MY holiday too. It's an all-encompassing saying that has been used for decades this time of year to be inclusive of everybody.
But just in case you're one of those people who refuses to acknowledge that other holidays exist, and Christmas is THE ONE TRUE HOLIDAY THAT SHOULD BE THE ONLY HOLIDAY TO EXIST FOR ALL OF DECEMBER! then I got you...
Hope your Christmas is merry, monkey, and bright... if that's your holiday of choice.
I've never had an easy time getting eight hours of sleep each night. But, then again, it's never been a huge problem for me. I'm always fully alert and active throughout the day. What changes, seemingly at random, is how early into the evening I run out of juice. And then I got an Apple Watch and finally understood why that is.
I learned fairly quickly that how much sleep I'm getting (or not gettings) isn't what's important. It's how much deep sleep that I'm getting. If I get nine hours of sleep... ten hours even... it doesn't mean anything if I get under three hours of deep sleep. I'll be a wreck the next morning, get through the day okay, then have zero energy for anything except vegging out on the couch all night. On the other hand if I get four hours of deep sleep, I will be fully rested and have a full day of energy even if that's all the sleep I get.
For the past six months I did an analysis of what I eat, how much I eat, and when I eat it. I also kept track of how much deep sleep I got. The results were interesting.
Turns out that, for me, there's a simple checklist that gets me the best possible deep sleep...
If I stick to that schedule I'm usually asleep between 10:30 and 11:00, and wake up between 5:30 and 6:00. This usually results in six-and-a-half to seven hours of sleep with four hours of deep sleep. And that's my happy place for being well-rested.
Last night, for example, I was in bed by 10:30. Turned the lights off at 11:00. Fell asleep at 11:33. Woke up at 5:46. This got me 6 hours and 13 minutes of sleep. But 4 hours and 21 minutes of that was deep sleep, so I was absolutely golden all day long.
All this time all I need to do was to not worry about whether or not I was getting 8 hours of sleep and shift my eating to earlier in the day. Simple.
And do you know what happens if I stay up late drinking or eat dinner too late or have too big of a meal or drink caffeine after 1:00? If I'm lucky I'll get three hours of deep sleep. But usually one or more of those factors will result in my getting less than three.
And there you have it.
Took me 30 years to get here, but at least I've finally arrived.
I did not anticipate that my biggest problem of the day would be how to get my socks and pants on with my screwed-up knee. And yet here we are. Drying off after my shower was equally challenging. Well, it was easy at first... then got more challenging as the task at hand went on.
But anyway...
There's a long list of people who don't like me, I'm sure. Some on the list outright hate me (maybe even you!). And I get it. To these haters I have all the wrong opinions and believe in all the wrong things. Never nind that I try to get along with everybody the best I can whether I respect their opinions and their beliefs or not... they go out of their way to make sure I know that I'm not welcome in their worldview. Sometimes it's in subtle ways that I'm not really observant enough to "get" right away. Other times it's made painfully obvious because something happens which can't be interpreted in any other way. This past week something happened like that, which was more comical than anything else. I wasn't offended or hurt or even mildly upset, because it was just so intentionally ridiculous. It was kind of an everybody-at-the-birthday-party-is-given-a-slice-of-cake-except-me scenario.
What's not obvious in this specific case is why they hate me enough to refuse me the slice of birthday cake.
Could be for any one of a hundred reasons.
Or a combination of all of them.
All I know is that I must be doing something right. Because at my party I would go out of my way to make sure everybody got cake... regardless of how I feel about them. Even if it meant giving up my slice. Meanwhile there's people out here hogging the entire cake, even when people at the party are starving. The fact that this isn't me is enough to let me sleep at night.
The realiation that there's a lot of awful people out there stopped keeping me awake a long time ago.
The day just started, I haven't even made it into the office yet, and I'm already having a really bad day.
Fortunately my Instagram feed was there to get me started.
Because there's cute. And then there's this...
Hoppy Monday.
Well. This day could have gone better.
On the bright side, it could have gone much, much worse.
Anyway, happy Monday...
Cats are the best.
In the Before Times I used to put as much money as I could manage into my savings so I could spend it on Black Friday sales. Since my buying power could end up being 200% of normal (or more!), it just made financial sense to buy everything I need for the year on this one day. Especially clothes.
But then I remodeled my kitchen, did a bit of landscaping in my front yard, and had a water leak... and all of a sudden my savings are more than gone. They are non-existent.
Which is not that bad for once. I don't need any electronics or appliances or housewares. The clothes I have are in wearable condition. There are no tools, video games, or cool toys I am dying to have. My car is still mostly running. And my shoes are still in one piece. Albeit thanks to Shoe Goo.
My boots and shoes don't get a lot of heavy use, but they still fall apart. Mostly when the sole's toe-cover comes unglued. Fortunately that's an easy fix. Shoe Goo and an overnight stay in a bucket to keep it held in place is all it takes...
So... yeah... not much happening today for me. Certainly not like it's been for other years.
I've still got nearly a half-tube of Shoe Goo left, so I'm good.
As a vegetarian, today is far from "Turkey Day" to me.
I haven't eaten meat for over 37 years, but I was never much of a turkey guy to begin with. I'd eat it... but at a 50/50 ratio with jellied cranberry. I also didn't care for steaks, ribs, sausage, ham, pork chops, chicken, or any kind of seafood. The only meats I did like were hamburgers, bacon, and pepperoni. That's it. Everything else was eaten reluctantly.
Turns out I was predisposed towards vegetarianism from the start. But discovering Buddhism was what it took to push me over the edge.
I'm rather happy with the vegetarian alternatives to hamburger and bacon. And, believe it or not, I was never a fan of hotdogs until I discovered the vegetarian variety.
There is no adequate vegetarian substitute for pepperoni.
If there was, that would be something to be thankful for.
They say it's never too late to start over.
I suppose it depends on how old you are. And what you mean by "starting over. Many things in my life... from the area where I live to the career I have to the people I hang out with... have been the same for decades. But in other ways I've started over a multitude of times. Intentionally. It keeps things interesting for me when the basics of my life never change.
As the cold and darkness of Winter starts settling in, I started trying to think of something else I could change to shake things up. Break up the monotomy of the season.
And came up empty.
I don't know if it's because I've suddenly gotten too set in my ways or don't want to put the effort in or what, but there's no change I could think of that I actually want to make. Which makes me think I need to do something radical like dye my hair pink or pierce my nose or move to Scotland.
Or maybe all three.
It's funny the things you remember.
I rewatched the Wham! documentary on Netflix and it got me thinking about the George Michael video for Faith with his iconic jukbox, cross earring, and BSA jacket, which made me run to YouTube to watch it (and then, of course, the follow-up video for Freedom where he sets all of it on fire)...
All of a sudden I had a flashback to a pair of pajamas my grandma made me when I was little. But I wasn't wearing them in the flashback... I was looking at me wearing them. Probably in a photo. So I went running to look through all my scans of old family photos and, yep, there it was...
What's amazing is that I recognized the pajamas as being BSA pajamas even though I couldn't really read it until I zoomed in and digitally enhanced it, which means I likely remembered it in my subconscious from when I was a kid somehow...
I have no idea why BSA fabric was being sold here in the very rural valley we live considering the brand is British (BSA = Birmingham Small Arms). Nor do I know why my grandma selected it to make pajamas for me. Although it might have been because I've been a motorcycle fan from a very young age...
All due respect to George Michael, but I think I wore it better...
Weird how I can remember a pair of pajamas from 50 years ago, but can't remember why I walked into the kitchen ten minutes ago.
I'm single because I want to be.
I don't know that this statement needs defending, but if I were forced to do so I'd say that "It's just the way I'm wired." I love being alone. Just me, two cats, and an empty house. It's bliss. I'm totally set. Tried the whole relationship thing multiple times and it wasn't a good fit, so I decided I'd rather live for my friends and occasional hook-ups than be miserable.
Or, if I'm being honest, making somebody else miserable. Because haven't women suffered enough?
Men get to be alone. Sure people tend to think we're gay for wanting it, but we're largely left to our own devices. Women, on the other hand, are labeled "UNFULFILLED" and "SAD" and "A DETRIMENT TO SOCIETY" when they want to be alone. As if not wanting a husband and children somehow makes them "less than." Which would be laughable if it weren't so harmful. Personally, I can't understand why people give a shit. Some people want to be on their own, so just let us be.
In the last decade there's been a lot to be said about the incels. Meaning "involuntarily celibate men." These are guys who are alone because they can't find a woman willing to put up with their superiority bullshit... and blame women for it! And since it's "totally not their fault because they're just being an alpha male" they feel justified badmouthing women at every opportunity and committing heinous acts where they lash out against society (in general) and women (specifically). It's a serious, serious problem, and the violence born out of it is no laughing matter.
Where it all takes a turn are the men who own the "incel" label... but claim it's because a terrible women did them wrong. To them it's justified. They hate on all women now and it's a woman's fault. To an extent, I do get that. A bad relationship can easily cause enough pain for people to lash out in illogical ways. I've been there. I'm not going to go into the crazy details, but suffice to say that when I was in my worst relationship I was lied to, betrayed, cheated on, and exploited. It was awful. It resulted in me drinking too much and contemplating self-harm. And for years after I dug myself out of that hole, I felt I'd rather be alone the rest of my life than to risk going through that again. I didn't blame "all women" for what she put me through, but I can see how a guy could make that leap. For a while. But to turn it into your entire identity for life? That's on you. And women not wanting to be with that is also on you.
But that's not the only road that gets traveled.
Over the weekend I was scrolling through the cesspool that is social media and ran across what I thought was an incel rabbit hole. But as I continued to scroll... I saw that the men participating in this new trend of sharing their feelings about being alone are not blaming women for their situation at all. They're just expressing how sad they are that they can't find a partner to share their lives with. They're not violent about it. They don't feel women "owe" them anything. They're not raging against all womankind.
They're just... lonely.
After a while of watching I was overwhelmed with compassion.
But, since this is the internet, "compassion" is not the normal response. There's loads of people branding them as "beta males" and "weak" and, of course, "incels" (from the other side of the spectrum). Telling them to "buck up" and "be a man" and "stop embarrassing yourself." Despite the fact that these guys have done absolutely nothing to deserve any of it. Men don't get to be sad and vulnerable out of loneliness, you see. That... that... deserves to be mocked, belittled, demeaned, and dismissed.
And so now I'm feeling bad for being a part of the problem.
Here's me, absolutely loving being single and alone watching guys pour their heart out about how the crushing loneliness is breaking them. And the first thing to enter my head was to lump them in with men who don't want to change their shitty behavior so that a woman might actually want to be with them. As I was watching, I kept waiting for them to unload the "I'M ENTITLED TO SEX BECAUSE I'M A MAN AND WOMEN SHOULD DROP TO THEIR KNEES AND BE GRATEFUL THAT I'D WANT TO HAVE SEX WITH THEM!" rhetoric. But I didn't see it.
Well, I did, because TikTok can't distinguish between lonely single guys and hate-filled incels, but the majority of the videos were not that.
And of course it's not just guys. Plenty of women being crushed by loneliness too. Not surprisingly, society is no more kind to them than they are the men.
Being alone is exactly what I want and I don't ever feel lonely because of it. So it's difficult for me to comprehend the mindset of somebody dying of loneliness. Of dying from a broken heart that they have never been able to give to another person. But I don't have to understand it to feel for people who are in this boat. Everybody deserves to find love, and somebody who has never had it deserves every bit the compassion as a guy whose wife of 60 years just died. A broken heart is a broken heart.
My first reaction was a bad one. I hope I can do better in the future.
And I really hope that I can be less dismissive of my fellow men who are hurting and just want to be heard. To be treated with kindness when they're in pain. That's really not a lot to ask.
Despite our toxic society telling us otherwise.
Be kind out there, my friends.
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