Wednesday, June 17, 2009

Forgive the swearing in this entry, but who wouldn't be frustrated to the point of doing so?

I'm fucking 1 credit off from graduating ...

For UofT students, that's 1/6 of a full year 1 credit course.

This has stalled my previous application for that 42 week accounting training.

Which means stalled my process to get a job (if it's not guaranteed, then that's another year of my life gone).

Now I know what it feels like when "shit hits the fan."

I wasted 600$ on a course that didn't count because 3rd time course retakes don't count for shit. In other words my final year at York, literally cons me of my piece of paper called a degree, AND 600$ of money I paid out and didn't get the product out of it.

Going to spend the next week arguing about letting me get off the forsaken lands that are York University.

I'll still go in the direction to York but sort of like a barbarian in Diablo 2 that ventures into Baal's throne room in Act 5. Fighting and killing (not literally) with my swordfighting/fencing and archery and grinding my abilities to higher more outstanding levels.

That last paragraph actually calmed me down.

Tuesday, June 02, 2009

If "A break at last" is a bit too long for you (4 pages single spaced), here's a shorter bad rant.

So today was a kind of recovery from Sunday. How do I recover from being mentally and emotionally beaten so much in 1 time?

I do 2 things, I either teach others skills that people want to learn, or fix equipment. Since I'm not armoury officer anymore, I'm not exactly authorized to go on a fixing spree. Also it's kind of unhealthy to mole myself in the armoury when I have friends that want to help me out of this rut. They also tried using the technique that I knew helped prop me up. That is to teach them something I know, and they want to know (eventually). So I gave them a lesson, and it was an improvement up from the totally down state, but I had accidentally hurt one of them because they were getting a defense, and then loosened up too early and let me in. Which caused the face whack. Not good to injure students, but 1/2 well taught students helped a bit.

Fencing practice solved the other bit, as 1 of the newbies picked up targeting so quickly, she was better than the regulars! The other was learning, although not so skilled, and I encouraged them to practice in transit (bus surfing).

I felt good knowing that there is talent, and that there is hope for someone's dream team, and vision to progress closer.

So a good hop, skip, and jump all the way home. Until I get on the computer...

In the past 4 hours, 1 person was irresponsible enough to not work on something they were suppose to finish earlier. Another backed out of the executive meeting, the 3rd got kidnapped by her sisters to the USA, and the irresponsible worker somehow put a typo in a copypasta...

Anyways, one of the things to piss me off is that after we've worked so hard to get our times booked, our shit together, all of a sudden, my colleagues don't take this seriously anymore. They were going to waste a practice to be selfish. It ended up that the whole bloody practice got cancelled because you know you can count on the people returning when you bail out. If it were the regular membership I know you'd have come. So we're premature in starting people up. We have enough equipment.

Unless the space gets wider, we're not going to need more bows. We got more than enough ammunition for each person to fire half a dozen arrows all at once. We make our finger tabs. The only thing we don't have are the targets. and the extension nets, and the secondarly backstops. However, these are all frills for next year. We can keep our membership going this year still through the summer. So you got to spend money to to school commuting, SO DOES EVERYONE ELSE! That's not an excuse. Car, bus, train, it all costs money. We all dole out to move our arses places. You worked 3 years for getting this started, and now you're just going to come in "oh sometimes, maaaybe, not sure if I can today" You're worse than your membership. They got the commitment to show up on time, as scheduled, EVEN help out and socialize. It is the club you always wanted, a tight nit community. Or one that has promise to be that, but people are still getting to know each other, people are still only meeting on the basis of well ... archery. To feed more socializing, you have to bring them together more.

And you can't do that while you sit on your comfy butt in that comfy home, and whine with pessimissim. You fit the stereotype all too well of being a rich, and whiny suburbian. Being pessimistic is fine, but not doing a damn thing about it isn't.

A break at last!

Or so I thought. So my plans changed, a bit drastically too in just 1 weekend.

It's the first time in maybe 2 months since I came back up to Richmond Hill. Yeah, it's not far at all from Toronto, but if you've got closer places to live and less time traveling, that still equates to more time being productive.

Got home, and things were ok for 1 night, except for the fact that my room was cleaned the night before to hide the mass amount of saw dust and dirt and trash can mess in my room from my brother and mom. Also finding out that my brother totalled his bike again within a month. However, they were corrected, so I didn't mind those things happening because one can move on when there is a correction.

Next day, I wake up for lunch because I've been sleeping well, and sleeping late. I come down, sit down, and well start eating. Complimenting and thanking my family for the good food. Things are going well until mom asks if I've enrolled in "Intermediate accounting". I told her I have to take the introductory first, and then go into the intermediate. I was setting up for the Schulich program which requires you to take the pre-reqs, for the next level course. She then promptly blew up in a fit of anger asking me how long is it going to take to get my courses done. I told her 2 years because I can't take courses together, or I'll a) get kicked out of courses, or b) plainly fail them because my background in this field is shoddy.

She then starts yelling at me that I'm always in school, playing playing playing, not studying, not doing anything for myself. She kind of calms down for a minute, and asks what I want to do with my life.

I told her the same plan that I told my dad. I'm going to finish with a major in Biology, a minor in accounting, and then go to college for robotics. With this set of knowledge, I can work in pharmaceutical manufacturing, or as my research friend likes to add an example, build a spectrometer that can read and decode proteins. An engineer has good knowledge of physics, practicalities and making instruments, but he lacks background information in biology to know what he's builiding this for. A biologist has that information, but doesn't know enough about instrument techniques and scanning techniques to think from that engineering perspective. So why not have the education for both? There's got to be use for that. My dad likes this, and told me to go for it. He was quite anoyed about the missing part of "accounting" because he wasn't informed that it would take a slightly longer time to achieve than he thought, but otherwise he was very encouraging.

From that point, my mom was ranting this (it's paraphrased because it lasted an entire 5 minutes) "Who's going to take a college student who has basic engineering, when they can take a university student with better knowledge. Do you think, they'll let you build their billion dollar machines? No, they'll want Doctors (PhD) to do that, they'll want university graduates. Not some silly non-reputable college student. Your chances of achieving this dream are zero. Take something easy, take something that will let you do your stupid hobbies. Take accounting."

Dad sided with her because the idea of getting a degree from college is an unknown concept to him. He was under the impression that I'm getting a technician designation which also does lead to a pretty limited prospective. However, he didn't say to not continue my plan, but to be aware of its limitations, and try to look for something that sounds more prestigious.

Either case, I got a double-shot of gank at the lunch table before I took my meds, before I had even taken 10 chewing motions. I eventually replied that this is the best way I see to achieve everything that my parents want, and what I want. Mom promptly complained that by the time I finish, I'll be 30 years old with no work experience, and that nobody wants a 30 year old with no experience and only a bunch of undergrad degrees under his belt (Who wants a 50 year old with no RELATED work experience, and no degree related to their field of work?). I didn't reply with that because, this isn't about her, it's about me. It's a bit true I thought, it is late for a person to train that long and have no work experience. However, isn't that what Masters, and PhDs are? They're forever students, studying and researching for the embetterment of mankind and their own egos sometimes.

This is where things became heated. I was trying to drill into her head and my dad's head that I can't go any faster. That after my major+minor, I'm going to look for work in accounting related positions, and fund my own further education. It's just going take longer than I expected. It's not the strike's fault, but the fault of the change happening when? In bloody April when I gave up looking for work in every possible spot in the government of Canada. I was told by both of them, to stay in school a bit longer to weather the recession in comfortable isolation at university. It sounded like a good idea. 1-2 more years of school, and then I'm free right? Well apparently that's too long, and there's a better alternative. I can get a designation in Seneca, and it's only 42 weeks long, and I only need to be enrolled in the intermediate accounting course, and I'll get a placement at Canada Revenue Agency.

My thoughts at the time that I didn't express:
Hey ... why wasn't I told this ... IN FUCKING MARCH OR APRIL DOUCHEBAG! When I was talking about changing in that direction? I told them I want to do this quickly, I hate accounting, it's boring, and an utter waste of me to do such a thing. I'm only doing this because I need to survive. Once I've found something I truly like (my own business, a place that uses my other degrees), I'm out of there faster than you can say "Fap?"

So I apologized for being confrontational, and I apologized for delaying. I thanked them for helping me do my plan faster, more efficiently, and less painfully. I did repeat 3 times to my mom that wouldn't shut up about my bad initial plan (Dad was sort of sporting the greatness of engineering at this time, and he stopped his bombardment a long time ago when I said the following the first time) "I didn't know there was this way of going about it, now that I do know, I'm going to take that direction. "

All the whole time, I was breaking down inside, all the whole time, I was using every fibre of my body to control my emotions and actions, reminding myself "You just haven't taken your meds yet, it's just the lack of them right now causing this. Think about the content of the information coming to you, not the emotional reckless response. "

So I finished my food ... finally, and it was perhaps the worst tasting good food I've ever had. It physically tastes good, but my mood, and concentration was on myself and the damage control to calm down. In other words I did not have any other focus to actually taste food. Only fibres and objects in my mouth to go down into my digestive system is all I felt. Mom then promptly said "Let me show you where to go! " In other words dictating exactly what I should do. I told her I wanted to look myself, but she refused and replied that it'd be faster if she showed me. I didn't argue, and accidentally let out a snap kick to the air because I needed something to shake my tension off, Dad was trying to calm me down and help me up at this point as he could tell I was beaten up pretty badly.

So I was showed the site, wonderful, bookmarked, and done. Sooo what am I going to do now? It's sunday, looks like we'll just have to wait for things to occur, when it's all done. I shut down my laptop pack it up, and try to find something else to do. I'm at home, I should do something with my brother, and around the house that I can't do here at the apartment. So I dawdle around, clean a little, do nothing for a bit, watch my Dad fix the totalled bike with my brother helping to repair what he's broken.

Then I go back up to my room, and turn the computer on to go apply for the programs. Mom promptly comes into the room and starts yelling and ranting at me that all I do is "Play, play, play! Can't you do some real work? You're a loser!" I'm continually bombarded by this, and I interrupt her in the middle of the rant to tell her "I'm applying for the programs, that's all I am doing on the computer. Now can you please calm down? " This doesn't stop her though and she continues her assault about that I play too many games and starts interrogating me on how many hours I spend playing computer games. It's actually recorded now, and it's about 3 hours a week (Freespace 2 research). She refuses to believe that, and I correct her, I'm teaching fencing 6 hours a week, I'm at archery 4 hours a week, I'm sword fighting 2 hours a week, that's where my time is. "It's value that is not tangible or measureable, " was my statement to her about how I use my time. Funny how there's a lot of that in the Macroeconomic models that we leave as a leniency.

She changes the topic to try and stop me from applying... Trying to ask me and convince me that "I should not do this if I am really unhappy doing this, but I need something that makes money for me". I jokingly restated "something that makes money FOR YOU! " She promptly denies this, and goes back to rambling about me spending too much time on my hobbies. It's only stopped by Dad coming in to intevene and start changing the topics and basically being a diversion for her screamfests at us or my brother, or him. Things dissipate because Dad just plays the fool until she gives up on trying to convince the "fool."

I get a longer break this time, and eventually start remembering things I was planning to do at home. One of them was looking for a cheque that my brother told me 2 months ago had come in from York. The cheque itself is an expense payment for me buying armoury equipment for the fencing club. I look around, and I timidly ask "Did you by chance receive anything from York in the mail? " Mom asks what I am expecting, and I tell the truth, "A $1500 cheque to pay for the armoury expense that I incurred. " Mom says no, and I replied saying "Hmmm that's strange, brother said it came in, I'll ask him when he comes back in from fixing the bike. " Mom explodes in anger for a 3rd time today, she starts ranting that my brother is irresponsible, about why I would put the responsibility of him telling me correct information to him. He's a minor and shouldn't be trusted. I should ask her if something that important came in. He doesn't check the mail, and if he does, he dumps it in his backpack, and then dumps the entire pile on to the living room. She's the one that opens the mail, the only thing that comes in for me are bill bill bill bills. Rinse and repeat that 10 times now, with the sound speakers blasted as loud as you can. At the end of the first round of that I told her, "Well, he's my brother, he's family, why should I distrust him? What reason does he have for lying to me? If it's not here, then it's probably just still in the paperwork pile at York. We're dealing with buffoons at York. They take 4-6 months for anything to be filed properly. Just calm down, it'll come in eventually. " She repeats her rant above. 2nd round through: "This is why I don't like coming home. It's always painful to come here, either you're fighting with dad, brother, or me. " She kind of calms down and asks me if I have ever done anything for myself. My reply is vague, because I'm not really sure what she means. "I would hope that all that I do is for myself. " Then she sighs, and goes back to why I shouldn't trust my irresponsible brother, and that I should leave everything to my mother.

Unfortunately, I don't trust my mother, since I've done the following:

I file $2000 worth of pharmaceutical medication expense per month to my mother and father to be insured. 80% of that is suppose to come back via a cheque to the respective claimant (Mom). That money is suppose to go back into the pot (joint account of mom and dad). It never does ....

I check the "need to file" bin, and ALL my medication receipts are there, from the past 6 months. That's $12000 sitting in a tray not claimed.

I have invested $1000 in Petro China (when it was at $1.51/share), who gave out $90 of dividends every quarter. I never get any... I don't even have access to that $1000 anymore...

My mom made a promise that I wouldn't have to worry about meds while I was in high school, that she'd take care of my meds properly since her workplace then was right next to a drug store. I'd tell her 2 weeks in advance that I'll be needing refills soon. She'd wait until I've been off the medications for 2 days (weekend), and I've become paranoid of a flare up before she starts moving her arse to get my medication. Of which I still wait another 3 days for her to remember to pick it up at the drug store. That's 5 days of no medication to live, 5 whole days of stress of whether I'm keeping my body under the flare up limits! It's a wonder I only had 1 flare up in high school (That was when delays were a whole 7 days of no meds at a given time).

You can see why I don't trust my mom to do things properly. She messes up the important things. The Petro China I couldn't care less about. However, things like money back in the pot for the family to use, or keeping a promise.

With that aside out of the way (we were discussing the irresponsible behaviour of my brother, and a missing york cheque). My dad and brother return, and I ask my brother if he remembers getting anything from York, he replies no, and I ask him about a cheque, and he replied that he thought it was the rocket project cheque (I bought his school some model rockets for the astronomy club to play with), not a York cheque. So it was all a misunderstanding as I had thought, and I said I'll take care of it when I get back to York. Mom was still angry, ranting, and yelling at me to do something. If I could, I'd go to houses, guns, swords, and all and tell the respective administrators to do their work. However, society doesn't work as beautifully as I'd like it, and I'll just play the game for a bit. With a lot of badgering and persistence. When Dad comes up to the commotion and gets informed of the solved situation, he does his calming play a fool spell again to calm mom down.

After that, I don't talk to my mother anymore, at least for the day. I just stick with my brother, who's ecstatic that his supersmart, superstrong older brother has come home to help him out, and just like when he was 2, and I was 10, play games and children's toys with him. Leaving for the apartment was a good feeling, and I told my slightly saddened brother when I left that I'll be back a lot sooner than before. On Wednesday after I finish teaching Richmond Green Students fencing, and we'll ride our bikes just like the calvary.