Y2kk Update: I've been unemployed for so long now that I forgot what it feels like to be busy. Now that I finally remember, I wish I hadn't...

This past weekend, my close friend from North Carolina came to visit me here in the Toronto area. I shouldn't just say he's my close friend, he's really my best friend and perhaps my only true friend after everything that has happened to me over the past few months. I was laughed at by all the coworkers I trusted, and was ignored by my longest lasting friend for months. So yeah, I absolutely had a great time with my best friend here, even if I was dead tired and half asleep most of the days we were out. Whether we were watching movies like Up and Star Trek or getting my ass kicked in Wii games such as Tiger Woods and Mario Kart, I honestly had a great time and probably the most fun I've had in months...

There's always an ugly silver lining for me though, and that was simply when he had to leave. Having him here reminded me of just how close of friends we were back in high school and for a few of those years after that, but since then? Since then, what has really happened in my life? My best friend had to move away, all my university friends ignore my e-mails every time I send them a letter these days, and I can't trust any of the other people I've come to know over the past few years, whether they're from work or anywhere else that I've met someone new. Basically, seeing my best friend off and having him return to North Carolina really did remind me of how progressively alone I've become since goddam school ended, and it's only going to get worse from here. Especially now that my family is moving apart, or at least literally in this sense...

My sister announced this past week that she has decided to take the offer from the Kellogg's MBA program at Northwestern University. She's already rented an apartment in the Chicago Greater Area and she'll be going down to the States for an entire year of schooling by the end of next week. I know I've never been close to my sister, I know that she and I haven't always seen eye to eye, but she's still my sister and I will always love and miss her simply because I care about my family so very much. This move to Chicago is only the first of potentially many years apart, considering my brother-in-law wants to move to Hong Kong and my sister will naturally follow him as soon as her tenure at Northwestern University is done. For all I know, she may never come to live nearby the rest of this family again for the rest of her life...

I spent Thursday through Tuesday with my best friend when he was here visiting, and I'll be kept busy again this weekend when I see my sister for lunch and dinner on Friday. Then she'll be coming home one last time for an early Father's Day celebration on Sunday, I believe. Now I'm sure she'll be bored as hell when she'll be here, considering she's never been one to sit down with the parents and actually have a meaningful conversation. But considering she is moving away to Chicago and she won't even be home for her own birthday, it's necessary for her to say her goodbyes. We'll be visiting our remaining grandparents I'm sure, and I'll make sure to bring her to my grandfather's tombstone for her to bid her farewells. And considering all the other changes I've had in my life, from my brother moving to his new condo uptown to my close cousin joining the ranks of medical school over at Queen's, I guess I've never felt more goddam alone in my entire life. I knew this might happen after university was done and over with, but I guess knowing and believing are always two very separate and distant things...

I've mentioned before how without work, I've been meaning and wanting to bring new people into my life. I decided to return back to university, this time for an Accounting Certificate at Toronto's York University, half because I might want to switch from my computer industry, and half because I guess I desire on some level what my brother already has. He not only found a great career thanks to his business degree at York, but also found the love of his life there when he least suspected it. Of course I would want that for myself, how could anyone not? As a graduate of the University of Toronto, I guess I always looked at my brother with kind of jealous and envious eyes. He received from university everything that he wanted in life, when all I got instead was a worthless paper of a degree. I've felt alone for so long now, and with no employment in sight, I figured there wasn't a reason not to return to school, if only to try to find my place in this world once more...

Things didn't exactly go as planned though, as I guess they never do when I try to take charge. After my initial online application, I guess I made a horrible goof in not realizing that I had to pay an extra ten bucks (on top of the original $90 application fee) to get my official transcript sent from the University of Toronto up to York. Because of this oversight on my behalf, my application wasn't processed until this past Monday afternoon, in which case finally I was accepted to York University for the mature student certificate course. The only problem was, didn't business classes already start this week for the summer term? My original goal was to take a couple courses these next few months, courses that might actually be applicable to my current career path of becoming a technical manager or some crap like that in a computer company. I was hoping to actually take management and finance classes that would actually teach me the things that I do want to learn, but obviously a wrench was thrown into my plans if I've already missed one or two weeks of goddam introductory lectures and tutorials...

I visited York University yesterday after I dropped my friend off at the airport and met my sister for lunch. It took me about an entire bloody hour in order to figure out where I actually had to go to set up my enrollment appointment, but finally after being pointed in the wrong direction by four or five different fucking information centres, I had earned the goddam privilege to wait in line for another half an hour or some crap like that at my final destination. When it eventually became my turn to speak, the person behind the desk was absolutely shocked to hear that I was given entry to the summer term after courses had already been running for a week. While she was calling people behind the scenes to figure out what the hell to do with my application acceptance, I was forced to wait on hold for another ten or fifteen minutes in frustration from this university that was somehow already pissing me off more than my last. Finally word came through that a meeting had been set for me at nine in the morning this coming Friday, but I don't know if I was more upset in the end than relieved. Yes, they were granting me entry into the summer term like I had originally applied for, but is this really what I want now after I have missed an entire week of classes or more?...

The thing is, more than the fact that I missed out on all the information from the first lectures I've already lost, I think the thing that scares me most is that I would be the random nobody that would walk into the classroom a couple weeks late when all the friends and alliances and groups within the courses have already been set amongst each peer. I mean, I do want to go to York University, I do want to return back to my educational roots, simply because I want to meet new people and I want to make new contacts, especially considering this is a business school I am now attending. What's the point of joining the classes late then, when it's not really the course material that I wanted to concentrate on in the first place? I'm still planning to go to this meeting on Friday, but I don't intend to fork over my credit card and pay almost six hundred bucks a course in order to walk into them late and have everyone shun me because they have no bloody hell clue who I am. I want things to be different than they were before at university, but walking into those classrooms late would simply be repeating history all over again...

It's more than that though, and I hope this is just my fears compounding and my paranoia intimidating me like it always does. But really, when I was at York University, when I was searching the buildings and asking around for directions, I just couldn't help but feel lost. Granted, that was expected, but I certainly didn't feel excited or nervous in a good way about it at all. Everywhere I looked, I saw guys and girls all around that were so much younger than I am, and they all had that sort of carefree look on their faces that I wish I still had. Everywhere I glanced, I saw couples together and gaggles of friends synchronized in unison, the kind of stuff I miss from my days at university but also the stuff I realize I've moved past in my life as well. I really felt like such an afterthought of an awkward presence there on campus, like I truly did not belong. I understand that returning to university is always a daunting issue, especially after so many years gone and after being so embarrassed by the working world since I left. But even knowing all this, I still couldn't help but ask myself, is this what I truly do want? To try to blend in and mix with people that I consider in my mind to be kids, to try and fit in with those who don't give a real shit about their futures yet? I wanted to join university again to meet new contacts and find new friends, but are these the kinds of friends that I want to be with?...

My line of thinking right now, both logically and emotionally, is to back out of the summer term but keep my options open for full time status in Fall. I know I'm irrationally scared of trying to return to school, especially now that I see and feel how old I am in comparison to everyone else around me. It's not just the age differential that frightens me, it's the fact that I feel I have nothing in common with the people I saw around me, even less so than I ever felt at the University of Toronto (which was a nerd's school and will forever be a nerd's school). I dunno, maybe I will start feeling a lot more comfortable with my new campus surroundings as soon as I step into my first classrooms and say hello to the first new people I will have met in months. The first step is always the hardest step, I know that from goddam experience at least. But still, I swear it felt like more than just irrational fear and paranoia when I was looking at all the young faces around me. I completely had the gut feeling that not only did I not belong, but that I probably never will there. This is not my world anymore, and there was a reason why I left it in the first place...

Look, I'm just going to come out and admit the obvious, if I haven't already. The reason that I chose to go back to university was not just to have something new on my resume and it wasn't just to meet new friends, but it was mainly because I can't stand seeing the face of the girl I still care for from work every single damn morning of the day. I try to avoid thinking of her, I try to pretend like I don't still dream of her when I'm asleep at night, but nothing seems to help me move past her and nothing ever helps me to forget her face. I know I shouldn't feel this way, I know it's probably all just from my deep rooted longing to find true love and to believe that nothing else in life is meaningful. But I'm sorry, I've said it before and I'll say it again, I just can't help how I feel. I don't know if I was ever truly in love with her or simply the ideal of her and of the perfect woman who could come to love me. I know that she was probably never that image of a woman that I had in my head in the first place. And I know she rejected me, I know that she put me in the goddam friend zone, and I know that she left me for the rest of her life a long time ago. But none of that helps me to stop thinking of her every single time I wake up in the morning. Knowing all this never ever fucking helps...

I signed up for university because my brain keeps telling me to simply move on with my life. There's no logical reason to ever assume that this girl is the one and only woman for me, that there isn't anyone else in the world that I can fall in love with. I had plenty of crushes back in university, so why not find a nice rebound girl and finally move on with my goddam life? More than the schooling, more than the new friends and career contacts, what I wanted most from university was the chance and the probability of finding someone new and finding someone special, to finally make me feel whole again like I felt before I met and lost this girl at work. I guess, I wanted to feel sure and strong and confident in myself again, or at least as much as I felt when I last left university. In the past, I've always fallen for the girls I've simply gotten to know and talk with in proximity. Even if it hasn't happened since I met the girl from work all those years ago, why can't it happen again?...

But when I was walking around that university campus, when I was glancing at every young face and every single person I could see, I couldn't help but feel that gut-wrenching churning in my stomach that I was making a terrible mistake. What my brain wants is for me to move on with my life, to find someone new, because rationally there is no reason why there would be only one woman for a man in his entire damn life. But my heart, while still so damn wounded from everything that has happened over the past couple of years, still does not want to let go of the hope that she really is the love of my life, that she really is the woman that I can spend the rest of my life with. I know on the surface that everyone assumes the same about their first love, that everyone does believes in true love until hormones kick in. But deep down inside, in the pits of my gut where my feelings cannot be denied? I can't help but feel like I'm betraying who I am, that I'm turning my back on the person that I'm really meant to be with. Even if I know it will never happen, I have to say that every single fibre of my very being wants her back. I know I never had her in the first place, I know we were really nothing more than friends, but I still miss her, I swear to God that I do. There's nothing more in the entire fucking world that I want than to have her back and to see her smile. I just want my old life back, that's what I really want...

But she was the one who laughed in my face when I told her how I felt two years ago. She's the one who, after returning from her trip to Malaysia, told me straight to my eyes that she had yet to meet the kind of man that she could ever fall for. She was the one who after a summer of incidents thanks to my petty jealousy, chose to ignore me for the next year at the office except for work and pleasantries, and she even apologized for it before deciding on her choice. She was the one who refused to go out with me the night that she quit her job, she was the one who yelled at me when I tried to talk with her at the Christmas celebrations, and she's the one who wrote to me that if I can't get over my clingy crush on her, then maybe we shouldn't even be friends. She's the one who even after my grandfather passed away, told me after I treated her out to hot chocolate and a gift from her past, that she didn't have enough time to see me again until at least a few months down the road. She's the one who was always too busy to speak with me for even five minutes over the goddam phone. And she is the one, lest I ever forget, who after I asked if she would contact me the moment she had enough time, lied to me those fateful words of "okay, I will", only to never be heard from again. She is the one who chose to leave me. She is the one who decided that I was not the one for her. How can I ever forget?...

If you love someone, set them free, but she never fucking returned. I haven't heard from her since January, not a single phone call or e-mail, not even to check up to see if I was still alive after all these months of being alone. I have no clue what she's doing, whether she found someone else to fall in love with or if she still simply believes that love is not necessary to live a real life. She was the woman who opened my eyes and showed me that there is so much more to this existence than just waking up in the morning, spending your day at work, then chatting with a few friends before going to bed to repeat the same damn process over and over again. She was the one who made me realize that there is so much more that I want in life than to just go to school, find new contacts to further my career, and walk out with another useless piece of paper that does nothing to make me content in life. I haven't been happy since the last time I think she was happy with me, but I know that's not the case with her. She told me so many times that she's content. She's fine without me, she always has been and I'm sure she always will be. How is that fair, and how then can I ever believe that she is the one for me if I've never been the one for her? I don't know, but I can't help how I feel...

I miss her. I want nothing more in my life than to have her back. But she's fine without me, and she's fine with her choice to leave me. It was her decision, and I have to respect that. I can't contact her in good conscience until she gives me a sign. I've waited four months now for something, just anything to give me a reason to call her again, but I've heard nothing but silence. And I know it'll stay that way, simply because this is the way that things are meant to be. I cannot ruin her life simply because my love for her has ruined mine. I care for her too much to put her through the same pain and frustrations that I did before. She chose to leave me, and I need to live with it, no matter what...

It's been a long time since I felt this busy. I've had my best friend over in my house for the past six days, I'll be meeting my sister as much as possible before she sets off for school in Chicago, I still have birthdays for two of my cousins to attend these next few weekends, I have this whole fiasco with York University to deal with in the days to come, and I'm finally getting some of those job interviews again that I haven't had en masse since the January and February months ended. I finally have things to do again, and yet I still feel as lost and hopeless as I did before, simply because all of them are nothing more than my lame attempts at running away from what truly means something in my life...

It may have been a long time since I felt this busy, but my sense of loneliness has never been lost. I'm sure I will go to university again, whether it's this summer or fall, because I have to move on with my life. It may feel like the biggest mistake of my life, but I have to do it...

I realized this week that I don't want to move on, that it's not what I truly do hope for. But what other choice do I have?...

I can't have what I want. The most I can do then, is forget...

Y2kk Update: My life is going nowhere, even at sixty kilometres per fucking hour...

A perfect example of how my existence is stuck in neutral? On Friday, I spent pretty much the entire day at the mechanic's. We've done business with his small little shop before, so I trusted him and his advice. For the past month now, our Ford minivan (cue 'found on road dead' jokes) has been making high-pitched squealing sounds whenever it exceeds fifty kph or more, almost as if it was ready to jump back in time or some shit like that. I'm talking about a constant racket here, enough so that it pretty much turns every disgruntled head racing towards the car, friendly glare or not. With my friend from Charlotte flying here in about a couple weeks, I wanted to make sure that this problem was gone so that he would feel safe (or as safe as he could feel with me driving at the helm) whenever we're in the vehicle. I had no problem with spending over three hundred dollars out of my wallet to get the car fixed here and now, even though the mechanic couldn't quite place what the problem was. All indications seemed to point to a rusty rear brake rotor and broken down brake pads though, so that's exactly what I decided to order...

I got to the mechanic around noon on Friday. He was busy with other customers and that was fine, it was his skill and price that I trusted, so I was willing to wait the couple of hours that I did until he finally was ready to take a look under the wheels of the minivan. Like the last time I was there, he recommended a full replacement of the rear brakes, citing that they were rusted beyond belief and the brake pads were worn down to the point that they were probably giving the squealing sounds as a warning signal. After doing basic internet research the morning before, I couldn't help but agree with his assessment. He gave me an estimate of $230 for the entire job, which was over a hundred dollars lower than the next best estimate that we got from anywhere else. So of course I gave him the go-ahead to start repairs on the vehicle right away, and I set off to finally get some lunch at a nearby rundown mall, about a twenty minute hike away...

That's when the bastard called me on my cellphone, when I was already halfway down the road to my goddam luncheon destination. He quickly reported that his initial estimate was wrong, that the repairs would actually rack up $330 instead, and he asked whether it was alright for him to start on them or not. I couldn't believe what I heard, he jacked up the estimate by a hundred frickin' dollars? Seriously? I know that this new cost was still slightly lower than his competitors, but what happened to the amazing deal he was offering me before? I hate being made a fool of, I hate tactics such as this where he probably conveniently waited for me to leave before telling me the real price. So I stormed back to his mechanical lair (starving stomach and all), demanding an explanation. Problem was, he had left for lunch as well, goddam bastard...

I chose to wait for him for the next hour and a half, practically killing myself in the process, until the guy finally returned. I then asked him for an explanation for the price hike, and he simply and callously shrugged, "I couldn't get the parts at the original price". Well, I'm sorry, that wasn't good enough. He had made me wait two hours in the morning and then another hour and a half for his lunch break, all so that he could try to take advantage of me by giving almost the exact same fucking price as any other mechanic would have? I refused to pay for the estimate at hand, and even though it was only a pittance of a difference, I demanded that he knock off at least thirty dollars or else I simply take my car and walk (or drive). He tried to play hardball at first, knowing full well how long I had waited for that estimate, and he even put back all the tires onto the minivan until he finally realized I wasn't giving a shit about his strategy, and he agreed to give me the three hundred dollar price I was asking for. Hell, I probably could have gone lower at that point and I probably deserved to save more of my cash after what he had done to me that afternoon, but all I was asking for was a compromise between what he had initially offered and what he had tried to fool me with after. He finally conceded, and I signed the bill in relief before running like a madman to the nearest fast food joint...

I was feeling fairly decent with myself afterwards when all was said and done. I waited in the nearby mall for about two hours until I got the phone call that my vehicle was ready. The mechanic was cursing at me in his own language from what I heard, but a deal was a deal and judging from the bill, I didn't actually cut into his labour profits by much at all. I took a quick glance at the new brakes through the tires and everything looked fine and pristine. I thanked him earnestly for the compromise and work he gave, I shook his hand in honest appreciation, and then I took the car for a test drive and everything seemed right and proper in the world once more. I swiped my credit card, paid the bill in full, and after I had just gotten far enough away from the mechanical garage that it wasn't worth it anymore to turn the fuck around?...

That's when the car started squealing like mad fucking hell again. WHAT THE FUCK?!?...

So all in all, and all good things? I had spent about six fucking hours of my day at the mechanical shop, haggling and busting my ass against a guy trying to take advantage of a young fool desperate for a car fix, only for me to realize on the very fucking ride home that the car was still fucking screeching like a goddam banshee? Seriously, WTF? Was it not the rear brakes that were the problem, even though the mechanic had supposedly checked the belt system and the front brakes and determined they were both fine? Could it be that there are busted joints or some sort of crap somewhere around the car, now making me even more terrified to take this goddam vehicle out on the road? Or was it that the mechanic was simply pissed off enough at this naive-looking kid who actually forced him into a price compromise, humiliating him to the point where he did a half-assed job fixing the only fucking problem that I brought the van to him for in the first place? WTF?...

What's the moral of the story here? Every single time I finally get off my ass and put effort into improving or repairing something in my life, I always end up back at square fucking one. I know I should try harder, I know I should never give up, but where has all my efforts taken me in life so far? What do I really have to show for it, except a car that still howls in the pale moonlight like a moose in heat, and a fucking cost of three hundred fucking dollars to my name during my goddam fucking unemployment?...

Anyways, I forget if I mentioned that the old company that I worked at, the one where I was forced to quit simply because I couldn't stand the sight of everyone else being laid off around me, was finally sold and bought out by a moderately large tech company in Richmond Hill. For the sake of simplicity, I'll simply call them "OT", although it might be easy to google their name knowing their initials and location. It was back in March that this company finally bought out my old corporation, and I was contacted in order to sell my eleven fucking dollars worth of options in the company. And yes, it's true, I surprisingly actually did get a cheque for eleven fucking dollars in the goddam mail, which was a strange gesture considering the goddam postage stamps probably cut into most of the ex-CEO's damn profits. But there's more to the story than that...

I probably did mention this, but an old colleague of mine recommended that I submit my application to this new company, to join the new team they were developing with my old company's technology in mind. I did so at first by applying through the OT website, until I was told by my former head of HR that all potential applications had to go through my goddam ex-CEO first. As in, if I wanted a job at the new company, I had to first get the approval and recommendation from the same goddam fucktard who forced me to quit my job and left me without a shred of severance pay during a goddam recession. I knew where this line of questioning was going, but I bit the humiliation bullet anyways and confirmed my name for the application process. And naturally, I never heard from my ex-CEO or the HR manager ever again. I tried to follow-up, I think twice with e-mails and once over the phone, and I got absolutely nothing but silence (though probably an evil laugh in the distant background). As far as the former owner of the company was concerned, he really did have the last laugh. He confirmed I was still unemployed, and I had basically begged him for a goddam job back. Cruel, vindictive bastard that he is, I bet he shared the news with those peers of mine whom he did hire. They were already laughing at me before when I chose to quit my job. Why shouldn't they laugh again now?...

A couple weeks ago, I got a surprising e-mail from that same company, OT, except this time it was from one of their human resource representatives. I had completely forgotten about that first application I had accidentally sent to them through their website, and the HR woman was asking if I was available for an interview. She directly mentioned that my credentials were good and that my experience appeared adequate for the job. It was then that my suspicions got the best of me, and I asked her if she knew that her company had not only bought out my previous corporation, but also hired a team of my former peers. She didn't confirm with me at the time whether she already knew this information or not, but she did admit she would ask around about my name. That was the end of that phone conversation. A couple days later, before we were to schedule an in-person interview, she wrote back to me with a rather cryptic e-mail. She simply stated, "Sorry, it turns out you do not have the qualifications for this position". That was it. Wait, that was all? Seriously, she confirmed with me twice before that she was looking forward to proceeding to the in-person interview step, and then all of a sudden, she cuts off all communication with me? WTF?...

I tried to follow-up with her, I tried to even ask for an explanation as to why I suddenly did not have the credentials to even merit an interview at OT. She never replied, she never contacted me back, but I think the answer was obvious though, and it was all thanks to my big mouth. I told her about the team of my peers at her current company, simply because I would never want to work in a place with a hostile environment. I'm sure that after our phone conversation, she e-mailed around and got a few references and opinions on the kind of worker and person that I am. Unfortunately for me, I'm sure that my worst fears were confirmed, that my former peers were laughing behind my back, that they never wanted to see me again, and that they really had no qualms about saying negative things about me when I'm still trying to find a goddam job...

If my ex-CEO was contacted (last time I heard, he became a manager at OT), then I'm sure his ego was fed again by the fact that I was still goddam paycheck-less after all these months, and that once again my fate was tied to his bloody hell hands. And if he was asked about me, I'm sure he said as many negative things as he could possibly think of to keep me down, he's simply the kind of vengeful bastard to do such a thing. There was no way I wanted to work in a company with a bunch of old coworkers who would make life a living hell for me, so I made sure to bring up my history with them in order to make sure questions would be asked. If the HR representative had asked around and still wanted an in-person interview with me, maybe I could stomach working in that environment, knowing that either my old peers weren't mocking me when it mattered or that the management there simply has much more faith in my personality and skills than my old company ever had. Maybe I should've been more confident and more bold and simply walked into that place regardless of how many of my old coworkers would burn holes into the back of my head with their stares, but I'm just not that type of guy. Do I want a job, preferably one in a solid company like OT? Absolutely, yes. But no career is worth to me a room full of enemies and an all-too familiar and uncomfortable feeling for years to come...

Maybe I'm imagining things, maybe the HR representative was somehow telling the truth and thanks to the recession, the requirements for the job at hand had suddenly gone way up. Then again, what are the chances that such a thing would happen just two days after she confirmed me for an in-person interview? What are the odds that I would suddenly be kicked to the curb for a legitimate reason just two days after I told her about my prior relationship with the new team now working at her company? I'm not lamenting the loss of another job opportunity, as like I mentioned before, no career is worth it to me if I'm stuck in a hostile environment where I simply cannot be comfortable. But I really can't stand the thought that my ex-CEO and all the goddam peers I've alienated these past few months, have not gotten just one chance but two fucking opportunities to fucking laugh behind my back at how fucking pathetic I really am. They're the ones with jobs, while I'm the one begging for a seat at their table. I left myself to their mercy not just once but twice, and got bitch-slapped both occasions by the people I once considered to be friends. The one I used to go out with for lunch every single day, he now works at OT and was already laughing about my stupidity when I last spoke to him in winter. I haven't heard from him since, not since he joined the others, and I guess I prefer for it to stay that way...

So where does that leave me? All alone, with absolutely no meaning and no accomplishments to my name in my life. I have so few friends, I've lost pretty much all my contacts I've ever made from work, and I obviously have nobody dear to my heart that I can share my deepest feelings with. Even my own family gave me a scare when I had to spend a week in the hospital with my mom who fell ill. Ever since I left university, my life has led absolutely nowhere, and every attempt I've made at rewriting and correcting my own course of history has left me exactly where I goddam started and stalled in the first place. It's not just frustrating, it's downright pathetic. My career path was pointless, my goals in life directionless, and I have absolutely nothing to show for my name or my existence except for this goddam fucking website of mine...

That's why I've decided to basically start over from scratch. That's why I've decided to begin fresh and anew from day fucking one all over again. I've tried for months to get a developer job during this recession, but not only do I find it almost impossible to do so against the competition out there, but I also find that I just don't really give a damn about making meaningless websites and social networking apps for companies that don't give a shit about me whatsoever. After you lose everyone you once considered to be a friend or an ally at work, I guess the labour force just seems like such a pointless and rudderless endeavour, and isn't worth an hour of your time but for the goddam fucking cheque. I've amounted to absolutely nothing in my life with the computer engineering degree that I have, and it will always shame and embarrass me when I think of how poorly I failed in so many of the courses I had. I wish I had tried harder in school, I wish I had made so much more of myself than to simply show up for exams and assume that my name on a degree would earn me the kind of respect I want in life...

I applied to York University for the Certified Management Accountant program about a month ago, though thanks to my own stupidity pertaining to my U of T transcript, I still haven't received an acceptance or rejection apology yet. But I am hoping to get into the York CMA course, even if it will take me about two years to graduate from their mature student opportunity. Do I want to become an accountant? No, not necessarily, although having more options in life is definitely a positive no matter what. It's the management part of the certificate that I prefer, and I can only hope that also having a business program under my name will help me to get the kind of career I want in either the accounting or computer world. I admit, returning back to university is more of a stopgap measure than anything else, considering I can't find a job worth a damn in this kind of recession environment. But I can also choose to work part time while studying if a decent opportunity arises, and I also have the choice after the end of this summer term whether to continue on with the CMA course or not. Sure, it strips a hell of a lot of money out of my own wallet, but as long as I feel like I'm learning and achieving something of value in my life again, it's money well spent...

I'm sick and tired of sitting on my hands doing nothing, and sadly the prospect of working for another small firm ready to cut and forget about me at any moment's notice is hardly something I'm interested in either. I've thought of volunteer work, and I've wondered whether to join a non-profit organization with a cause I believe in as well, and both are still possible while I try to get a business certificate from York. Returning back to school doesn't just give me more options in my career, it also gives me a second chance to try to meet new people, maybe make new friends like the few I still have from the University of Toronto. And I can't help but dream and hope that maybe I will find that person that I can fall in love with, for real this time. I just want to get away from my old life and my old company, you know? I just want to forget and move on...

I admit, it won't be easy for me to leave my past where it belongs. I've always been the no-name nostalgic, I've always dwelled on the person I was and where I've been far more than I where I am now. But what choice do I really have but to move on? I don't talk to anyone I met at work anymore, and I can't even trust most of them to be good references when push comes to shove. And the only girl I ever truly cared for and still sadly do? She had apologized to me long ago for suddenly becoming so silent, then she never really spoke to me again after her speech. She hasn't contacted me even once in so many months, not through the phone and not through e-mail, not even to check up if I found a goddam job or if I'm alright, even after she told me that she would. It will be hard to forget her, and it'll be so damn difficult to forget the last three years of my goddam life. But it's something I have to do, it's something I need to accomplish. I want to go back to school because nothing has gone right since I goddam left. I don't like what I do, I don't enjoy what my life has become. I want a second chance and I want to believe in myself...

It's been a long time coming, but I honestly am excited to return back to school. It's not just about the new people, it's not just about finally learning the aspects of business that I've always had an interest in. It's also about redemption, it's also about trying to fix the mistakes that I made in the past. I will always regret being so passive in my academic life, I will always have remorse for not giving a damn about all the courses in engineering that I couldn't goddam stand for. Now of course, I can't say that I will be a perfect student this time around, I can't argue that I'll become a social butterfly and suddenly make a bunch of new friends, and I can't honestly allow myself to believe that this will be the guaranteed time and place where I will finally find the kind of woman that maybe I can fall in love with for real this time...

But I can at least say that I'll feel like I'm moving forward in my life again. I can at least say, this second chance will finally allow me to leave behind all the goddam humiliations I've made in the distant past. I want to do this, I want to achieve this, I honestly do. I've been dreaming of returning to school for a very long time now, and I finally have both the reason and the courage to do so. I guess, wish me luck...

Afterall, it's not over yet. I still haven't been accepted to the school, and I still don't know if business accounting is right for me...

Because it all sounds like so much goddam fun, now doesn't it?...

... well, better than being stuck in neutral for three hundred fucking bucks, at least...

Y2kk Update: Sometimes it takes an emergency to realize what's truly important in life. Sometimes it takes a nightmare to wake the fuck up...

Last summer, when my grandfather passed away, I knew how precious family was to me, I knew that I relied so much on my brother and sister and cousins for comfort. I realized how much I loved my parents, and I feared how devastated I would feel the day that my grandmother leaves this world as well. But for some damn reason, despite all this, there was only one person truly on my mind. The girl that I care for, she's all I could think of, her face was all I could see throughout every single minute that I felt so alone. I didn't know why I felt that way, I thought that perhaps it was even a message from my grandfather that she really is the one. I was compelled to contact her again, I couldn't live with myself if I didn't give us one last chance, and unfortunately the rest is history. How many times have I gone back to her? God, I'm such an idiot...

Two Thursdays ago, my mother woke up at 6 am with a nosebleed that would not stop. Blood was freely flowing from her nostrils like water, and she was coughing up just as much from her throat and stomach, flooding the sink soaked with red. My father finally woke me up half an hour later, which was already half an hour too late as far as I was concerned. I immediately called 911 since a nosebleed should not be going on for thirty minutes or more, and by 7 am the ambulance had rushed my mother to the hospital. On the way there in the car with my father, I was frantically phoning up every family member I could think of about the situation. I knew that the nosebleed was probably not serious, it's a common occurrence that has happened to my grandmother and my sister in the past, but I was very goddam concerned about my mother nonetheless. My grandfather had just passed away one year ago without any real warning, and so I was sadly mentally prepared for the worst. I care about my mother, I really do. I just wanted her to be safe and surrounded by family. She had lost a lot of blood, and I was scared...

At the hospital, she was probably bleeding constantly from the nose until maybe 10 am, when finally they clogged her blood vessels with a nasal packing water balloon. She said it hurt like hell when they stuffed the plastic tubes down her nose, and I was confused as to why they didn't simply try the freezing or burning methods that had worked on my sister in the past. It seems that my mother's nosebleed was especially serious, not just from her old age and her high blood pressure, but also because of all the Omega-3 and Aspirin 81mg doses she has been taking on a daily basis. Not only was her blood absolutely thinned and unable to clot as a result, but the blood was flowing like a faucet from both of her nostrils, which made the doctor definitely concerned that a simple burning or freezing solution would not be good enough in the long term. It would mean that she would be forced to stay in the hospital for a while under observation, as the doctor admitted that the nasal packing tube would not be removed for at least three entire days and nights. But if it meant the safety and health and full recovery of my mother, then so be it. My parents are both deftly afraid of the hospital, but I would be there for them both because that's what family is for...

The bleeding finally stopped, at least visibly on the surface, soon after my brother and sister arrived in the emergency room. It certainly didn't look pretty at first, the pressure from the nasal packing balloon was so intense that it actually started pushing blood out of her eyes and ears, even to the surprise of the specialist nurse in the room. My mother must have been so terrified, to wipe away her tears only to find that they were crimson red, almost like a curse from God. I honestly think she was afraid she was dying, as I know the memories of her father passing away so suddenly were still fresh in her mind as well. In the end though, even though it frightened us again when she coughed up an entire basin of thick blood a couple hours later, my mother was safe and recovering as the bleeding had finally subsided. The doctor had warned us that the balloon pressing against her blood vessels might still allow a bit of leakage, and that we shouldn't worry if blood still trickles down her face for the next few days. If he hadn't said that, I guess I would have been concerned, as my mother continued to be covered in thick, clotted blood for the next three days in the hospital. She looked terrible, but she was still beautiful to me, no matter how frail and scared she had felt...

She spent her first night in the hospital emergency observation room, then she was moved to an ordinary bedroom on the second floor by the first morning. She was stuck in that place from Thursday evening all the way until Tuesday morning, and she hated every single second of it, I'm sure. I was there by her side pretty much the whole time through, I even wanted to sleep at the hospital the first night until I was told by the nurses I was not allowed to (unlike in my grandfather's situation, when he was dying). I just wanted to let my mother know that I was there for her, and I did my absolute best to do so by simply being the son that I am. I was there pretty much every day from ten in the morning to eight at night, helping her eat her minced meals and talking to her about the news, holding her hand and helping her into the wheelchair whenever she wanted to visit the gardens outside. Of course, considering I'm a fully grown man (albeit a Chinese one who looks twelve years old), maybe it was embarrassing a bit for my mom to have her son walk her down every corridor of the hallways and hold her hand the whole way through. But I know what's important to my mom, and that's simply being there when she's terrified of her fate. She's my mother, and I really love her...

It wasn't until maybe Sunday night when the specialist truly reassured her that this nosebleed was simply a random occurrence caused by high blood pressure combined with aspirin, that it was not a symptom of anything worse. She was finally released on Tuesday morning, but even then, it was with much reluctance from our goddam family doctor. I trust the specialists at the hospital, but I certainly don't trust the goddam general practitioner who told my mom to take aspirin every day (to prevent a stroke) but never warned her about the side-effects. The thing is, my mother lost a lot of blood over the past week when she was in the hospital, even with the nasal packing balloon making it almost impossible for her to breathe and swallow. Her hemoglobin count became dangerously low, in the 70's range compared to almost 150 for a normal healthy human being, and they had already been giving her very high doses of iron supplements every day. The fucking idiotic family doctor, who a few days earlier had pretended like the aspirin he prescribed had nothing to do with the nosebleed at all, refused to let my mother leave the hospital without first a blood transfusion. In the end though, since the specialist said that my mom should fully recover on her own if she has an iron-rich diet of spinach and liver, we left despite our GP's protestations simply so that my mother could finally get some goddam sleep...

My family doctor trying to cover his own ass and do everything in his power to not take the blame for this incident, wasn't the only problem I had with that hospital. After my mom's bleeding had stopped and she had been moved to a standard observation bedroom, the nurses there were fine for the most part and I appreciate the help they gave my family. But when it came to the people in the goddam emergency room, in a place where quite often there is a risk of life and death? I know my mom wasn't in any immediate danger, but there was a point where she was terrified for her own life and she also desperately needed to go to the washroom (when her nose was still leaking uncontrollably). I went over to the nurses' station and asked for help, where there was a group of maybe eight or ten of them just babbling about what they plan to do over the goddam weekend. They waved me off, said that they will be with me in a minute, and being the nice guy that I am, I actually obliged...

I waited maybe two minutes while my mom was tearful and literally crying blood in agony, before I went back to the nurses office and literally just stood there staring at them directly as they still continued to ignore my plea and gab about their fucking day. I mean seriously, I know my mom wasn't in critical condition or anything and I understand they've become desensitized to emergencies like this before, but I was standing right there in front of them staring right at their faces, and they still refused to acknowledge that I even existed, as they continued to talk about shit like what kind of Prada purses they would like to purchase? Seriously, I wouldn't stand for this if I was asking for help in a fucking Best Buy, and I certainly won't stand for it in the fucking emergency room of a goddam hospital. And you know what was even more insulting in the end? I had told them minutes ago that my mother simply needed to go to the washroom, and after waiting five minutes for the gaggle of eight to finally look back up to me and get off their sorry asses, they simply took one look at my mom and said that it was fine that I take her to the fucking washroom myself. I mean seriously, they make me wait in a fucking emergency room then force me to do all the fucking work? WTF?...

My mom is fine now for the most part, and my family has been doing a great job since her return to make her feel as comfortable as possible. She's still weak, so it's up to me and my father to do all the chores around the house, and my back is now killing me more than usual around Spring cleaning time, if only because of how many fucking weeds are now my responsibility to pull out of the lawn. Honestly, I was happy that my brother and sister did so much for our mother when she was in the hospital. My brother has work but he was there pretty much every single day, and spent time at home with me because he knew how hard I was working to comfort our mom at the hospital. My sister, she wasn't always around and there were certainly times that I wish she was, but she still came all the way to take care of our mother that first evening, and she would always check up with the family over the phone later on. We got great support from our aunts and uncles and cousins, but what was probably most surprising was how much my brother's girlfriend and her parents all cared about my family as well. They were constantly calling and visiting and my parents couldn't express enough how happy and comforted they felt from it all. My dad even remarked that should my brother and his girlfriend get married, he believes that my mom and him will have a great relationship with the other side of the family. That speaks a hell of a lot to me, as it's during emergencies and times like this that you truly learn what's most important in life...

God, I should have knocked on wood. I should have known better, really. When my birthday came to pass, during the most down and depressing moments that I felt the day after, a dangerous and scary thought had actually crossed my mind. I was remembering my grandfather and how alone I felt during all those final days I was with him by his side. I recalled just how much I cared about the girl I fell in love with, and just how much I wish she could be with me once more. That's when I wondered to myself, how would I feel again if another family emergency came to pass? That's when I thought to myself, what would happen if another family member of mine was in danger, or worse yet, nearing the point of death? Would I think of the girl at work again, would she be the only thought and face that I can envision in my mind once more?...

I had promised never to contact her again, I had promised to leave her alone and set her free, and I had rationalized it to myself that it was better for the both of us if I were gone. She has never cared for me, and time after time again she proved that she was happy and content when I was not in her life. She never thinks of me, and she never has any regrets of what happened between the both of us. I know that, I realize all that, but that didn't stop me from thinking of her every single damn second of the night when my grandfather was passing away. None of it stopped me from contacting her again, and forcing history to repeat itself against all my better goddam judgment. It was only a passing feeling, it was only a fleeting thought, but I couldn't help but wonder when my birthday came to pass, what if there was another life and death situation? What would happen to my thoughts and feelings, if there was another emergency where I experience what's most important in life?...

When my mother was in the hospital, I was concerned for the girl I care for, I honestly was. I hadn't heard from her in months, and I was scared that maybe something had happened to her. I was terrified that maybe she was simply too timid and ashamed to contact me, that maybe I should have extended my warm and welcoming hand out to her again. I didn't know what to think because I didn't know what had happened to her. I wanted to know if she was alright, I wanted to know if she was safe, and I desperately wanted to know if she was happy. I kept imagining that maybe she does wish things had turned out differently than what had come to pass, that maybe she does wish that her and I could give ourselves one last chance to be together. It was so selfish of me, but I kept hoping that maybe she wasn't happy, that maybe she wasn't content with her life any longer, and that she wanted more, like I do every damn time I stepped inside that hospital and held my mother's hand. I was so desperate to make sure that she was okay, I wanted so much to find out if she remembered me at all, that I just couldn't help myself...

God, I am such a fucking idiot. How can I be so stupid? Why must I be so naïve? I now know that she forgot my birthday. I now know she convinced herself that her own isn't even important, so that she has an excuse whenever she ignores everyone else's. I know that she's alright, I know that she's safe, and I know that she believes she's content with the way her life has turned out. She loves her cats, she loves her chocolate, and she loves her goddam web comics and career. But I'm sorry, I want more. I want so much more, more than she will ever care to provide for me. Her values in life are simply not mine. Why did I fall for her? Why didn't she choose me? Why couldn't things have just turned out the way I wished they would? She isn't the woman that I thought she was. She isn't the woman I thought I fell for. The girl I knew is gone...

If she wanted to contact me, she would have. She promised me that she would, and she lied. If you truly love someone, set them free. If they come back to you, it's meant to be. But if they don't, it means they were never yours to begin with. She will never speak with me again, now will she? She really has no regrets, does she? I made the hard choice months ago to leave her, and I know now more than ever that it was the right decision and the only decision to make. She's happy with the way things are, I know she is. She's fine without me, better off even, so why interfere? She has plenty of people that she cares for in life, I'm simply not one of them. Whatever feelings she had for me are long gone. I've been forgotten and lost and living in a fantasy world ever damn since. This was simply yet another goddam wake-up call. So wake the fuck up.

I lost her a long time ago. I am sorry about that, but only to the girl she used to be, and not to the woman that she has become. I thought she was different than she is, I thought she was the one that I wanted in life. I was wrong, I've been wrong for so very long now, and I'm sorry. I can't believe I've lied to myself for the past two years. I'm so disappointed and so angry at myself. What a fucking waste of time...

I know what's most important in life. I now realize more than ever just how much I cherish my family. It was them who made my birthday into the special day that it was. It was them who never let me feel alone as we reassured our mother as best we could. It's with this new resolve that I once again understand that my family means everything to me, and we will be there for each other long after the girl at work is finally gone. Family is important, and family is who I am. I already have what I want in life, and I already have what I need. I guess I always will...

I know where I stand in life, and I know exactly who I am. I am a good son and a good brother. I am a good friend and I am exactly the kind of innocent soul that I hoped I would become when I was merely a child. I never lost my way when it comes to what I truly value in life. I never lost sight of who I am and who I want to be when it comes to what I find most important. Sometimes I lapse, and sometimes I do feel alone, but I know I never really am. I am who I am, I know what I want, and it's time to stop chasing a lie. It's time to be who I've always wanted to be...

Sometimes, it takes an emergency to realize what's truly most important in life. Sometimes, it takes a miracle to finally wake the fuck up...

My mother is now safe and sound and recovering here at home. That's all I can ask for, and I'm thankful. She's happy now, and so am I.

Maybe I'm finally ready. Time after time. To close this chapter of my life. To forgive and forget. To move on.

Y2kk Update: I used to think that my birthday was the most depressing day of the year...

Turns out, I was wrong. I guess I should've known. It was the day after...

Maybe it was simply because I was so pumped full of adrenaline over the past week or so, in anticipation of my birthday. So many good things happened to me that past week, that for once, I didn't feel so alone. I really did enjoy my birthday for what it was worth, even if I do feel like age is definitely creeping up on my goddam ass. I guess though, I just have to get one question off my chest...

Why the hell must I always get sick the week before my birthday?...

It all started on Easter, when I finally got the first good news that I had felt all year long. My brother and sister were over that night for dinner, and it was nice having a full house here all over again. The moment I was waiting for though happened much earlier than that. I had been so afraid that one of my best friends of twenty years would simply ignore me for my birthday, and I was so relieved when I saw that he actually e-mailed me about it on Easter. He invited me out, said that he remembered my birthday was coming up and that he wanted to treat me to golf and dinner, like the old days. It was a nice gesture on his behalf, and considering the spirit of Easter, how could I not try to forgive him?...

I called him up a few moments later, fully knowing that he still may not apologize for all he had done to me in the past. I was still angry at him for abandoning me when it mattered most, for leaving me with a hundred dollar basketball ticket when I was unemployed and he was complaining he was too busy to even speak with me for five fucking minutes. But you know what? Maybe it's simply because his own job is on the line now, or maybe he really did mature and grow up while I was gone. But when he finally apologized for leaving me behind, when he actually offered to pay me back the price of the ticket before I could even bring up the issue, I was simply so overjoyed that I almost felt a tear shed from my eye. I could honestly feel my face sweltering up as I let out a smile...

This was one of my best friends for over twenty years, finally apologizing to me after leaving me so hurt for so long. Of course I would be happy that he would invite me out to my birthday, of course I would be so relieved that he finally was treating me like the friend I've always tried to be. And of course I was honest in return, I told him that I was hurt but that it meant a lot that he was asking for forgiveness, and then I apologized for my own actions of distance these past few months. All I cared about was that bygones would be bygones. He had done the right thing and did everything that I ever asked for him to do. How could I refuse his offer then? I'm now planning to go out with him this Friday. I just hope things go well, but why wouldn't they? I have nothing to hold against him anymore. He made it up to me, and I forgive him...

Easter was great for me because of everything that happened. Not only did I get an apology after so many months of feeling abandoned and forgotten and alone, but my entire extended family was over for dinner, sharing a turkey and genuinely having a good time with one another. We shared stories of my brother's trip to Japan, we talked about our futures and where we would go from here, and of course I enjoyed the fact that we were all still so close as a family, which is all I've truly wanted in life up to this point. What I did not want however, was that my brother-in-law was infected with that god-awful plague of a flu right now going around the Toronto offices. I did not notice this though until well after I chose to sit next to him for dinner, and unfortunately for me, he decided to share that too for the week before my birthday...

My fucking God, was I fucking wasted in every single way from that fever last week. The first evening I had it, I simply thought I hadn't gotten enough sleep the night before when my throat started scratching. That's when I had a hell of a time falling asleep, only to wake up twice during the dark recesses of night to fucking throw up in the bathroom for the first time in goddam ages. I felt absolutely horrible the next few days, with a throat that tasted like ripe manure in my mouth and a head that was spinning worse than it ever was after the most fatal of exams back in university. I didn't know who I was or where I was going, and quite frankly I did not care. Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday were all completely a blur to me, as all I could muster the energy to do was sit up in my bed and play video games at best. I know I have a tendency to get sick before my birthday every single fucking year, but this was the worst fucking flu I've had in ages. I honestly felt like I wanted to die at times, it was that fucking bad. I'm just glad I didn't have any work to do, otherwise I might've tried to shove my way out of bed for that...

Friday, I was still under the weather and that's when my whooping cough started to truly act up, but I was damned if I would let my sickness get to me when it was time to help my brother move from his old house to his new condo. He had finally decided a few months ago that living downtown in a frat house with his old university pals was simply not the life he wanted anymore, and I was more than happy to lug all his stuff to his new uptown location right near where my sister and brother-in-law live. Friday wasn't that much work, although it was a nice reward to have my brother stay the night over at my house where we played video games until my cough wouldn't let me keep my eyes open any longer. Saturday though was the big day, and after I basically moved every single one of his possessions from my minivan into the elevator and then up to his bachelor pad on the 27th floor, my reward turned out to be mere fifty cent hot dogs at the Ikea store down the street. To be honest though, despite the cheapass price of street meat, I enjoyed the food for what it was worth. I really had fun helping my brother that afternoon. It made me feel useful again, and I even almost forgot about the fact that I was deadly sick with a pathogen for a few stray hours of the day...

The rest of Saturday was spent hooking up his electronics and setting up his Ikea furniture with the help of my sister and brother-in-law coming to the rescue. And really, how can I complain about a night like this? I was finally back with family, I had spent the whole day with my brother, and I was happy as hell that they would all take me out for my birthday later that night to a restaurant of my choosing. My illness was still messing with my mind at the time, and I truly was damned tired from moving around HDTVs and sofa beds to my brother's new apartment. But I made sure not to let any of this get in the way of my brother's biggest day of the year, his first ever evening in a place to call his own, and I didn't want to ruin the fact that my family really seemed to think of my birthday as important for once. My sister was there for my brother more than I, I'm sure. But I tried not to let petty jealousy get in the way. I was invited out that night, and it felt nice to be included for once...

Unfortunately, that's when things always take a turn for the worst, now don't they? My head was still spinning and I simply wasn't thinking straight when I went down to the parking lot to fetch the Ikea light bulbs that we had left in the minivan. Whenever it comes to locking the doors of the car, I normally have my pair of keys held in my left hand while I press the manual lock with my right. That night though, like I said, the world was turning in my head, and I wasn't thinking nor seeing straight when I went rummaging through the goddam Christmas tree leftover in the car while searching for something that my brother had lost. Eventually I gave up, and that's when I locked the door with my right hand while holding up my keys in my left. I slammed shut the door in frustration, only to realize that...

... fuck me, the keys I was holding in my left were for my brother's condo, and NOT for the goddam car...

That's when I began to panic. After searching frantically all around the vehicle to make sure I didn't drop the keys on the pavement, I immediately called my parents who had a spare remote for the van back at home, and tried about a half dozen times to see if I could send its RF signal through the fucking cellphone. Apparently, it does not fucking work, or at least it never did no matter how many times we tried it. So now what? Try the fucking coat hanger option through the key hole, since I hadn't left any windows open to pry with my arm? If I wasn't so down on myself and so fucking lost in the head thanks to my fever, maybe I would've thought clearly and not have cared so damn much that I would have to get my brother to drive me home in order to pick up the spare key, then drive me all the way back to my minivan. The thing is, in my brain at that point in time, I didn't want to ruin his big moving day, I didn't want to spoil the mood of his first night at his first official place to call his own. Of course he tried to downplay my stupidity, saying it's not a big deal and that he owed me for helping him move anyways. But I still felt terrible though after I what I had done. Fuck, I locked my keys in the goddam car. God, I'm such an idiot. What was I thinking?...

Maybe I ruined dinner at The Keg that night a bit by being so down and cynical about what I had done. I tend to dwell on my mistakes far more than I should, and I just didn't have the energy that night through my sickness to pretend like I didn't care. Eventually though, I realized that what was more important than a dumbass mistake on my part, was the fact that I was surrounded by family who had asked me out for my birthday this weekend. So really, why bother feeling so negative when I was so happy to be there just one hour before? I couldn't just shrug off my feelings of guilt and stupidity, so I decided to do what I often do best, lighten the mood with my self deprecating sense of humour. I still snicker a bit at my own joke, as lame as that sounds, but I steered the conversation until my brother-in-law mentioned how his own brother's car gets broken into all the time at his condo. And my response? "Wow... I wish I was that lucky". It took a while for everyone at the table to get it, but it was nice of them to chuckle with a genuine laugh. It brought a whole new mood to the atmosphere, and I had a fun time with family after that. They even snuck in a dessert, though it was goddam free because it was my birthday. I had a great time and I never felt alone...

As expected, that night my brother had to drive me all the way across two cities back to my house to pick up the spare car keys, then drive me all the way back to his condo where I would then finally get access to my vehicle again and cower my head in shame all the way home again. I got back after 3 am, probably the latest I've been out since my sister's wedding, and I still didn't bother falling asleep right away. I simply sat back, watched some sports highlights from that evening, and thought to myself how it was good at least that my family didn't blame me for how dumbass I was with the whole key situation earlier that day. I had tried to be the cynic, I had tried to essentially beat myself down for my mistake, but my family knew me well enough to know not to roll their eyes at me, not to chastise me with criticism or the like, but rather let me get out of my funk on my own terms, and to finally enjoy the dinner they offered for my birthday. It was a good night because not only did I feel forgiven for my mistakes by my family, but also I was able to forgive myself for being so fucking stupid. I went to bed with a smile...

Sunday morning, I woke up with such a horrible headache, half because of how late I had went to sleep, and half because I was still fucking sick from whatever my brother-in-law had given me. That day, I was stuck babysitting my parents as they searched for a new house in the suburbs north of Toronto, and I felt like collapsing in the back seat of the real estate agent's Escalade about a dozen times fold until I actually did. Also that night, my parents and I finally met up with my brother's girlfriend's parents for the first ever time, and right off the bat I apparently made a fool of myself by introducing myself as "Ivan" when apparently the father was already calling me my own name to my face. Can you blame me? I was completely out of it thanks to a long day and an even longer evening the night before. But of course, that wasn't the only mistake I made, as my parents duly noted to me afterwards about how bad of a first impression I had made. While I wish I had been more polite and proper and alive at that dinner table, I actually feel like I did the best I could under the circumstances I was under. I even had a good time overall, as once again, I never felt alone surrounded by so much family. The food was good, the conversations were engaging, and my brother was happy with how everything went. I was a bit nervous of letting him down, but if there's one thing this weekend has taught me, it's that he's willing to forgive and let me correct my own mistakes as best I can, which is all I really ask for...

Monday though was the real kicker. Monday was my actual birthday. And when I first heard from my brother that he was going to spend that night at my sister's place instead of my home, I pretended like I didn't care but I really honestly did. I mean, I understand that he already spent Friday playing video games with me well into the night, I realize that Saturday he was there for me at my birthday dinner, and on Sunday he was sleeping next to me in the Escalade as we were bored and angry as hell at all the pointless house shopping. But really, he was going to abandon me on my actual birthday? If I was thinking straight, maybe I wouldn't have cared very much, maybe I would've just let it go since he has always been such a good brother. But really, even if it wasn't for the damn fever I still had, since when have I ever thought straight on my goddam birthday? It's normally the most depressing day of the year for me, and he was going to leave me behind? WTF?...

It took him half a day to register that the date of the dinner he had planned with my sister was also the very day that I was born. Now, I knew that my sister didn't care, she's always been the type to just assume one off-hand meal a few days before was good enough to appease family, but my brother knew the importance of the day for me and immediately cancelled his plans. He even convinced my sister to come all the way on the GO train in order to be back at the house with the rest of my family for my birthday. And to be honest? Out of everything they did for me this weekend, coming home to simply spend more time with me and the parents was the best gift they could've given me. I know my sister had to essentially be dragged to my place, but she still came when all was said and done, and that meant a lot to me. What meant even more was that my brother had not only changed his plans in order to watch 24 with me on my birthday, but also came home and brought a cake despite being sick with the same goddam flu I had apparently infected him with the night before. That's dedication for you. He was there for me when it mattered most, when I needed him most, no matter the circumstances. That meant everything to me, and that's what family should be for...

I thought that my birthday would be the most depressing day of the year for me. I was wrong. It wasn't...

It was the day after when everything was finished and everyone was gone... that was the worst day of the year for me...

Yesterday morning, I woke up with the usual headache, but I felt so much worse than I had ever since that first morning I originally felt sick. Maybe it was because of all the adrenaline pumping through my veins throughout the weekend, maybe after I had pushed myself so hard to go out for all those dinners and push away all those thoughts of loneliness and goddam car key stupidity, that my body was simply lapsing and collapsing and falling back into the worthless shape that it would have been otherwise. Maybe that's why I felt like such shit that morning...

... or maybe it was simply because of her...

It wasn't the day of my birthday that I felt my worst. It was the day of her birthday, the girl I still care for. That's when I felt it all...

She never called me on my birthday. She never wrote to me to even say hi. Did she remember that it was my birthday, just one day before hers? Did she even care? Did she ever care? I felt so alone, realizing that every single morning, the first thought that always enters and fills my mind is her, even before I can even remember my own name. But that will never be the way she thinks of me, now will it be? It's been how many months since I lost contact with her, how many months since she chose to pretend like I didn't even exist?...

I turned 27 this year. She turned 25. I had been waiting and dreaming of what would happen, of what I would do for her on her 25th birthday for so many goddam years now. And when the day finally came? Nothing happened, absolutely nothing, and I have no-one to blame for that but myself. I kept dreaming in the past that maybe she would suddenly see me in a new light, that perhaps even her own mother would push her into giving me one last chance. I wrote to her last year even after months of silence, simply because I knew the moment that my grandfather passed away that there was no-one else in the world that I would rather be with than her. She must have known what she meant to me, but even on her 25th birthday, I obviously meant nothing to her. I had waited for this day for so long, for so many goddam years, and then nothing happens, absolutely nothing. How can I possibly forgive myself for ignoring her on her 25th birthday? God, the most I can do is try to forget...

I got worried about her yesterday, I truly honestly did. I got scared that maybe something had happened to her, that maybe she was hurt, that maybe she was too afraid and too lonely to give me a call on our goddam birthdays. I felt this way the entire day, I felt so desperate to call her, to simply write her again to make sure that she was alright at the very least. But I knew it was all a trap, I knew that I couldn't let myself do it, even though it was what I wanted more than anything else in the entire fucking world. She wanted me out of her life, she even wrote once that she wished that my bloody hell crush on her would goddam stop or else we shouldn't even speak. What am I supposed to say to that? How else am I supposed to interpret her words except to stay the hell away? I felt horrible yesterday, I honestly did. I missed her, I really did...

I realized though, what would happen if I called her? What would I do then after realizing that she was alright and that she didn't even remember it was my bloody hell birthday? Would I invite her out and she would begrudgingly agree out of pity, only for it to lead to me pining even more for her down the road when she has clearly gotten over me so many years ago? If I think I feel bad now, then what if I even contacted her once more to hear her voice one last time? How long would I continue to keep envisioning her face every single morning as the first thought that enters my mind, and how long will I continue to imagine her smile every single night the very moment before I fall asleep?...

My last birthday, I made the mistake of contacting her 'one last time', even though a couple weeks before she had warned me never to speak with her again. It only led to more heartache and misery on my behalf, while she went off to enjoy her vacation, her friends, her new job and everything that I still want in life. Why should I ever put myself through the same pain as before, when she didn't even have the heart or the courtesy to contact me on my own bloody hell birthday? I thought that would be one of the worst days I would feel in my bloody hell life, but it turned out not to be the case. What did turn out to be one of the worst moments I've felt in a very long time, was the realization that she simply did not want me to contact her even on her own bloody hell birthday. It was when I realized that even if she did remember the day I was born, she would never actually bother to contact me, simply out of fear and contempt and worry that I would actually contact her back. She doesn't want to hear from me, she doesn't want to know me. She wants me gone, and she has for a very long time...

I was so afraid that I would be miserable on my birthday, but this year I honestly had one of the best birthdays of my life. Sure, I was sick as hell as a vomiting newborn puppy (and just as vulnerable emotionally, I'm sure), but I never once felt alone, I never once felt abandoned, I never once felt forgotten like nobody cared. My friend of twenty years had just apologized to me a week before, and here I was at my birthday dinner, surrounded by my parents and my brother and sister who not only had spent Saturday and Sunday with me as well, but also changed their plans so they could be with me when I needed them most, when I wanted them most by my side. That's what family is all about, and that's all I've ever asked from them. That's what family means to me. I just wanted them to be there for me, and it almost brought a tear to my eye...

My birthday was not the most depressing day of the year for me. I guess I should've known. Turns out, her birthday was...

But next year? Next year, I intend to change all that. I hope she's alright, but I know she doesn't need me, and I don't need her...

Family is the most important thing in the world to me. But the girl I care about? She is not family, and she never will be...

But Happy Birthday to her. And one final Happy Birthday to us, I suppose...

I wish her only good luck. I wish her good night, goodbye, and take care...

Y2kk Update: It's just so frustrating. It feels like I've achieved nothing. This is not where I want to be in life...

I have plenty of regrets about my past. I've made a lot of wrong choices to get to where I am today. Back in high school, did I ever imagine that I would be sitting on my ass at home feeling sick to my stomach every single day, after finishing university with a computer engineering degree and three years in the development industry? I know I'm not the only one right now during this recession that doesn't have his shit in gear, but out of all my friends from the University of Toronto, I definitely feel like the odd man out. A few of my peers are now working on their MBAs, my old close schoolmate is finishing up his Masters in Engineering, and everyone else I knew and know are still at their jobs even through this crisis, making much more money with a lot more responsibility than I have ever had. Of course I feel frustrated then, of course I feel jealous, and of course I feel like I'm accomplishing nothing in my life in comparison. I know I should have my own self-esteem, I know I should find contentment and confidence within myself, but it's so hard to after five fucking months of feeling so useless. Yet another week passes me by...

When I was younger, when I imagined and envisioned myself turning 27 like I will two weeks from now, I thought I would be a senior developer or architect in a software development company that I can respect, not a quitter from some shitty small corporation that couldn't even last one day in a recession. After earning my computer engineering degree, I thought I would be on my way to getting a second degree or a masters by now, perhaps partake in an MBA program so I can become that technical manager that I've always wanted to become. Ten years ago, I thought that along with a successful career, I would have finally found the girl of my dreams by now. Her and I may not have a lot of money together, but I would be so devoted to her and her so devoted to me, that we would be talking about marriage already and thinking about raising our own family. Call it cliche, you can even call it misguided, but I want that quiet life in the suburbs where on weekends, my wife and I simply spend mornings together too lazy to get out of bed, too much in love to fall out of each other's eyes. I really did think I would have all this by the age that I'm becoming, but I've made so many bad choices in my life, of course my dream wouldn't come true...

When it came to my career? The reality was, I chose the easy path in life. I never tried hard enough in university, I never went that extra mile to earn the best grades or truly understand the root material. I never reached out to any of the extracurricular activities, I never went to parties or fundraisers and I never made the friends nor the connections that I truly needed to pave the career path to where I feel I belong. When it came to my first job, I simply sat content in the government, thinking I would be safe and sound without ever being productive or proactive enough to make sure of my security. After everything fell apart for me, I went for yet another quick fix at a small company that was so desperate to hire anybody that they even told me exactly that in the goddam interview, and the rest was goddam history. I never actively searched for the job I wanted while twiddling my thumbs at that goddam useless corporation of mine, I never once truly got off my ass to make my dream of a fulfilling and challenging career into a reality. I just kept wasting away the days, surfing the internet and hoping that one eventful morning, lady luck would finally smile down upon me from heavens up high. I never once took charge of my goddam life...

Waiting and fighting for this job at the big bank for the past four months, that was my half-assed attempt at finally trying to earn the career that I dreamt of all those years ago. In hindsight however, I should have realized that I just didn't have the qualifications nor the extra mile of charisma to earn that development position during an economic time like this. When I think back, the perfect opportunity would've been to simply have taken that intern position from the big internet company that would've at least helped pad the resume, and given me six months of not feeling like a total fucking useless tool sitting on my ass. Yes, I still want that job at the big bank that I so covet, if only for the respect and confidence that I would have in myself again for earning such a position. But it was unrealistic of me to expect such an opportunity to just fall into my lap, not when there are thousands others just like me with even more qualifications and just as bad luck during this goddam recession. I should have played it safer, I shouldn't have been so fucking lazy. I should have simply taken that first job at the big internet company, if only so that I would at least have a better chance at earning that spot at the big bank in the future. I gambled, I tried to roll a hard six, and I fell flat on my face yet again. It's just so fucking frustrating and goddam embarrassing, but I have nobody to blame but myself...

I can just imagine what my peers at my old company are thinking of me now, after humiliating myself the other week by basically begging for my old job. That gang of "cool kids" is probably back together, and they care so little for me and my friend who worked at the company, that they even completely ignored his messages when he tried to contact them last week. I can just picture them laughing about me as an old afterthought of a joke during lunch, while celebrating the fact that their loyalty to that shitty ass company gave them a great job at a good company during an economic time like this. And of course, I just can't get past the fact that these guys won't even talk to me anymore, not even to laugh in my face instead of behind my back. I know I shouldn't be so self-conscious, I know I shouldn't give a damn what any of them think of me, but it's hard to ignore the fact that what they think of me is also what I believe about myself. I know I made a mistake, I completely fucked up, simply because I didn't have the patience or the foresight to put up with any of the crap that the managers kept shoving down my throat. In hindsight, I see that my little feud with the bosses meant absolutely nothing and cost me everything. Of course I feel humiliated, and of course I feel like a total dumbass. I stood up for myself for all the wrong reasons, and I lost a lot of trust and face from my peers as a result...

What I want is a second chance at the career I long for. What I dream of is that the position at the big bank finally becomes open again, that the hiring freeze is lifted because they realize they really do need someone to fill the job. I will then study my ass off in preparation for that final interview I never had, and make sure that I know all my shit since I truly believe that this will be my one shot at goddam redemption. And when I get the job, when I finally start down that career path I've always dreamed of, I'll make sure to do my best not to burn any bridges this time around. I care about this position, I care about my future, and I care about where it will lead me as a person in life. I would never let it take over my existence, I would never let it consume who I am, but I will make sure that it will help return the kind of confidence and contentment that I felt back in university when I felt I was on the path for bigger and better things. I need hope in my life, I do. I need to become more than I am...

What will probably happen though is nothing, absolutely goddam nothing. Because what's my current reality? Last week, I tried to pull myself from the gutters and the ashes, I thought I had choices thanks to a few interviews at small companies and a part-time opportunity with my old government coworker. But I feel even more helpless and useless this week, after I wasn't able to get any second interviews from those small companies I thought I represented myself well at, and now even the part-time gig I was promised has been delayed by a week or two. I don't even know if it's going to happen anymore, if I'm ever going to get another decent job to help out my resume, and now I'm seriously contemplating a return to school. Problem is, I don't have the work experience to earn an MBA, I don't have the grades in engineering to set foot in the goddam master's program, and sadly the only things stopping me from attending a college for programming certification is the fact that I'm lazy as fuck and also that my dad would be so embarrassed of me if I did. I know I shouldn't give a damn about what my family thinks, especially a parent who's obsessed with his first born son trying to match the education level of his doctor of a cousin. But the last thing I want is to disappoint my father again, especially after all the stunts I've pulled over the course of my career. I just want to say I'm sorry...

Back in high school, I always justified to myself that I would be content in my life, successful career or not, as long as I had a group of friends that I could truly fall back on and trust. Granted, I do have one great friend still who just had his birthday last night, but he's off in Charlotte and that leaves me with nobody to hang around with in this immediate world of mine. My other best friend, former that is, I don't know if I've truly forgiven him for what he did to me and my family, by simply ignoring me and screwing me over during my time of most need. I cannot stand the fact that he chose to abandon me simply because he values his career and the approval of his parents over being my true friend, but I'd be lying if I said I couldn't understand or relate. Maybe I haven't forgiven him, but I certainly have begun to forget. Like I said, I do have one truly great and loyal friend, but something just feels lacking in my life now that I have no direction in my career and absolutely no-one to confide in-person on a lonely Friday night. I'm not just getting older, I'm also becoming more alone, and that honestly scares me...

What I want in life is for my friend who abandoned me, I want him to just call me up on my birthday, I really do. I just want him to phone me up and wish me a happy birthday two weeks from now. I'll realize what kind of guts it takes for him to simply dial my number, I'll recognize that he really is trying to make amends by contacting me on the day I feel most lost and alone in life, and I will reward him by simply being honest and true to myself in return. I will admit that I've been mad at him, I will ask him for an explanation or apology, but I will be willing to take it on the chin if he still does not agree with how I feel. All I do care about, is that even if he's been angry that I haven't seen eye to eye with him, even if I've harboured these ill feelings towards him for so long now, that he's still a loyal and dedicated enough friend in the end to try and work things out, that he's willing to salvage twenty years of friendship by still inviting me out for my birthday. That's all I really want, the hope that I can learn to trust him again. I just want a reason to forgive him, I do. After all this time, I still just want the chance to tell him that I'm sorry...

But what will probably happen, the cold harsh reality is, he'll probably just forget about my birthday. He'll ignore me, simply because he won't have the guts or the loyalty to call me up when it truly matters. He'll harbour a grudge against me simply because he actually does value his career and the approval of his parents more than he'll ever value our friendship, and I don't know if I'll ever be able to accept the fact that he will ignore me even on my goddam birthday. That would be the last straw, and it'll be the first real step in simply moving on with my life without the close friend I've had for twenty fucking years. I don't want this to happen, I don't want this scenario to become a goddam reality, but he hasn't shown me even a hint that he's willing to consider my feelings and work things out. I like to hope for the best, I like to believe that he's a good person at heart, and I like to have faith that the last twenty years of friendship wasn't simply based on a lie. I like to think that I know him, but I said the same thing every single day during those two fucking months I tried to contact him, only to be completely shut out of his life. I'm willing to give it another try, I want to be able to forgive and forget. But I need a reason to, I do. I don't want to feel like a complete fool again...

What hurts me most in life though, no matter how hard I try to ignore the fact, is that the girl at work still hasn't contacted me after all this time. I know I said I wanted her out of my life, I know I said I wanted to move on, but I just can't help how I really feel, how I'm absolutely goddam heart-broken that I haven't heard from her for the past three months. The last time I called her, she said she would call me back, she told me with the most honest voice she could muster that she would contact me as soon as she could. I know I said I didn't believe her, I know deep down inside I realized that I was giving her the chance to get rid of me for good, and I knew that she would take that very opportunity to do so. I gave her a way out, I gave her a way to leave me, and I knew she would take it, but I just didn't believe she would. She's always in the past written me a little e-mail to see if I'm alright, two or three weeks down the road. She's always made sure to check up on me, half to make sure I'm still alive, and half to make sure that I'm not completely miserable thanks to her. I know I'm just a source of pity for her, I know I'm nothing more than a back-up who needs to grow a spine and simply move on with his life. But it still hurts knowing that for the first time in the two or more years that I've known her, she hasn't even had the courtesy to make sure I'm still there, waiting for her. She chose to ignore me, she chose to completely forget about me, and she probably doesn't feel a shred of guilt about her choice. I like to pretend like I'm the one who had the final say, that I'm the one who walked out on her, but that's simply not the truth. I gave her the choice, and she chose to leave. She left me, she did...

What I wish would happen is that she really can't forget about me, that she really can't move on with her life, just like I can't move on without her. What I want is that she will call me up on her birthday, mentioning that mine was just one day before hers, and make sure that I'm alright after all those previous birthdays when I told her that I'm not. I'm miserable whenever I turn one year older, it feels like honestly the weight of the world falls on my shoulders that day. I never feel more lonely, I never feel more alone, and I never feel more helpless and useless and lost than I do the day that I was goddam born. She knows this, I've told her this much in the past, and I just wish that she would remember it and care about my feelings and well-being so damn much that it even surprises her when she calls me for the first time in months. And when she does, even if she tries to hide and stay guarded, I will do my best from that point on to finally have the life with her that I've always dreamed we could have. I'm just looking for one sign of hope, one symbol that she cares for me more than she lets on, and then I will give her everything that I am. She's not just my hope for a better life, she can't just be another obsession and infatuation, not when it even surprises me how much I really honestly believe that I'm in love with her, I really honestly am. I want to make her happy, I want to feel her smile, and there's a part of me that simply can't believe she's content as the woman she is now, no matter how many times she has told me so in the past. I'm just looking for a sign, I'm looking for any hope that the feelings I experience are not all lies. I just want the chance to tell her I love her and that I'm so sorry...

But what will probably happen is that she won't even think of me on my birthday. And even if she does for a single moment in time, she'll still believe that what she's doing is right, that I'm not the man she's looking for, and after that I don't think I'll ever hear from her again. I made a promise that I would let her go if that's what she truly wants in life, and I intend to keep that promise if only since I have no choice. I want her to be happy, and I honestly think that she will be. When I think of her future, sometimes my imagination gets the best of me. I see her being content one day, with a son and a daughter and the kind of family that she has always wanted. But I'm not the father, I'm not the husband she spends the rest of her life with. Not even in my own visions of the future do I find myself in my own ideal world. Instead, when I can't help but drift off and envision my own destiny and fate, I see a son and I see a daughter running to greet me in my arms, but they're not my own children. When I see my future, I see myself as that crazy uncle that the children of my brother just love to meet. And whenever my brother and his wife think of me, they always wonder what happened to my life, how I wasted all my potential, how I never found that career I wanted or the girl I dreamt of, simply because I was too scared to fight when it truly mattered most. I think I will always be a good person, I think I will always be a good brother and a good son. But I don't think I will find love, I don't believe I will find the family I wish I will have. Call it paranoia, call it a quarter-life crisis, but somehow I just imagine myself being all alone. That's how I've felt these past three months, and it honestly scares me...

I know what I want in life, I honestly do. I want to be a good person, I want to be a good friend, I want to be a good husband, and I want to be a good father. I want to have the kind of life that I can respect, I want the kind of career that I can proudly look back on, and I want to be the kind of man that shall forever remain true to himself. Everyone has regrets in life, but not everyone has the courage or fortitude to correct their mistakes. I'm sorry that I failed in my career, I'm sorry that I've failed in my friendships, and I'm sorry that I've failed at making the only woman that I've ever loved happy. I'm sorry that even after four months of sitting on my ass feeling so helpless and so useless, that I still have no plan to get me out of this goddam mess that I've made for myself. This is my life and these are my problems, and I just want to set things right...

Because it all sounds like so much goddam fun, now doesn't it? No matter how many times I write that cliche, it still somehow feels true...

One month ago, when I started all these updates of mine again, I questioned why I had lost the will to write...

At least I have my answer.