jump out, jump out, get your groove on [i lit a joint and burned my eyebrow] <$BlogRSDURL$>

Monday, November 29, 2004

you've got a strange effect on me 

I always think it's kind of amusing when people end up at my blog whilst googling my ex in combination with the bar he works at on the web. Dude, you're not going to find him here. Really. I think I've only mentioned his name once, and any other time I've only used an initial. I never use last names here, so you're not going to find out any additional information on him by perusing the archives, other than the story of how we got together, or me talking about why we broke up. I talk about the Ship lots, but those are mostly just stories about nights of heavy drinking, and the mayhem that ensued. My ex is the kind of guy who likes to keep it as simple as possible, so he doesn't own a computer or use the internet at all. Seriously- he has no email address, and still communicates with people via snail mail and phone (land line- he doesn't like cellphones). So basically, you're not going to find out much about him on the internet. Plus, I'm pretty sure he doesn't like stalkers so much. So, if you've ended up here at ILJ looking for him? Sorry, I can't really help you much. Good luck with that.

Thursday, November 25, 2004

f-u-c-k: just a small tribute 

Where would I be without the word 'fuck'? Where would anybody be, for that matter? It's such a versatile term, despite it being a mere four letters long, used in many different ways on a daily basis (unless, of course, you still live with mommy and daddy, and they repeatedly tell you that if you swear, you are going to hell beyond a doubt, which is complete bullshit because there is no heaven or hell, but you totally still believe that both exist since you are obviously not old enough or smart enough to have a mind of your own- but this is so not the point). You can use it in times of celebration: Happy fucking birthday, dude! You can use it in times when you feel like banging your head against a wall, and don't much care if your skull gets smashed and brain matter leaks out (okay...ew): What the fuck? Why can't I fucking make this work? Fuck. Fuck! FUCK!!! You can use it as abuse towards those you do not like, or at least do not favour at that point in time: Fuck you, motherfucker! You can even use it as a sleazy device for picking up dudes/chicks at the bar: Hey, those are nice shoes. Wanna fuck? Saying 'oh, fuck' sounds way cooler and more ghetto than saying 'oh, shit'. Don't get me wrong, I am totally for the use of 'shit', but let's face the facts. 'Fuck' is on a way higher plain than 'shit'. And at the end of the day, shit is still what you flush down the toilet, so 'fuck' wins hands down when it comes to the coolness factor. And there you have it. Without 'fuck', life would be devoid of all meaning. Well, it kind of seems that my life would be, anyhow. So, go find some booze and a glass of some sort (if you're at work and don't have booze or a glass, I'm sure that a bucket full of some noxious chemical in liquid form will do the trick... oh, but if you do that, don't forget to call an ambulance in advance, because I guarantee that you are going to need it) and make a toast to the word 'fuck'. Mine is as follows:

Here's to 'fuck'- getting people fired, punched in the face, and layed since whenever the hell the word was invented.

Now, fuck off and get back to work, slackers.

Wednesday, November 24, 2004

it's in the whites of my eyes 

Ten Weird Words And What They Mean

1) Deasil: clockwise (sounds like 'weasel')

2) Gaberlunzie: a beggar (hobo, bum)

3) Houghmagandy: adulterous sexual intercourse (exactly what it sounded like it might be)

4) Mundungus: rubbish or refuse

5) Panjandrum: a mock title for a person, real or imaginary, who has or, claims to have, great influence or authority

6) Adipocere: post-mortem waxy fat (fact: human fat never dries up)

7) Blatherskite: a noisy talker of blatant rubbish; foolish talk or nonsense

8) Contumely: insolent or insulting language or treatment

9) Droogish: relating to the nature or attitudes of a member of a street gang

10) Floccinaucinihilipilification: the action or habit of judging something to be worthless (yeah, don't worry, i can't pronounce it properly either)

Monday, November 22, 2004

is that you, baby, or just a brilliant disguise 

Is it okay to ask for money back that someone owes you, even if you know they are not currently employed? Especially if it's just a stupid small amount like... say... 7 bucks? Yes? That's what I thought. I think it's especially okay if the person owing the money in question comes to town (not even my friend, mind you,) and just wants to go out drinking, but when you show up at the bar after some hard core birthday drinking with one of your best friends, he doesn't even offer to buy your beer or anything. Fucking freeloading little shit (who still lives with his folks, and gets home cooked meals every-single-goddamned-night, natch).

So, yeah. This is my latest giant pet peeve. Freeloaders. Of course we've probably covered this before, here in the kingdom of reiteration, but freeloading has turned into a close second to my number one pet peeve; stupidity. I definitely think it's okay if once in awhile somebody turns up and you pay for their dinner and drinks and shit like that, but when it becomes a habit akin to a bad rash, some changes need to happen. Freeloading is an art form. Really, it is. Freeloaders know what cards to play for sympathy, and they naturally always play these cards to the biggest bleeding hearts that they know. I am not one of them, and am not easily fooled by these cunning beasts. Like, the person in question in the foreword of this post. He knows how to come across as completely pathetic, and overly kind individuals fall for it every time. Take the one approach proffered by this guy, that he constantly uses: the 'my mom died approach'. Problem is, his mom died when he was still a little kid, and since it is now at least 20 or so years later, that is a very dirty tactic. Maybe I could understand if his mother passed away very recently (like my friend's cousins; their father died not even a year ago, and the 19-year-old boy is now the main provider for the family, with two 18-year-old sisters and a mother to support), but I don't think it's cool to use something that happened years ago to garner pity from others. To add fuel to the fire, he also has a terrible habit of going to visit friends when he doesn't have two cents to rub together, and because he's already made the long drive, they feel obligated to pay for his share of drinks at the bar. And me? I don't give a rat's ass how far you had to drive to come and visit me, but you'd better at least have a motherfucking credit card when you get here. And I don't care if you lost your wallet somewhere. 'Lost' does not equal 'stolen', therefore, it was your fault and I do not feel bad for you in the least. I don't care if your dad died when you were 5. You're 27 now; you've had 22 years to get over it and get on with your life. So, here's how it works in real life, freeloading pond scum. If you show up at my house broke and hungry? I ain't taking you out for no dinner. There's some KD in the cupboard, and you're more than welcome to it. If you show up at my house and you have no money because you spaced out and left your wallet somewhere, but you were really, REALLY excited to go out drinking? Well, dude, sorry about your wallet, but you need to PAY MORE ATTENTION TO WHERE THE HELL YOU SET YOUR WALLET DOWN. As for the drinking? You still want to go out? Nice try. I'll spot you a twenty if you go to the liquor store and pick up a case of O'Keefe's Extra Old Stock. Don't like that brand of beer? Of course not- no one does. It's bloody cheap, though. Oh, and that long face because your life really sucked two decades ago? Give me a break. Save the act for someone who buys it, because I call bullshit. I'm smart like that.

Friday, November 19, 2004

the killer in me is the killer in you 

While watching The Apprentice last night (if you don't watch The Apprentice, don't worry, this post isn't all about the show), I got to thinking that some people are just horrible for the sake of being horrible. You know the kind of people I'm talking about. The ones who borrow money from you, and then you see them at the bar buying drinks for other people. The ones who take credit for ideas that aren't even theirs without feeling any guilt. The ones who blame others for their personal failings. The ones who don't think it's enough to just dislike someone, so they have to go out of their way to make the person miserable. These are all examples of horrible people. And maybe it's not that they're just horrible for the sake of being horrible, but that they have such low self esteem that they feel the need to take it out on the people around them. So, here's what I have to say to all horrible people. Fucking get over it. If your life sucks that much? Do something about it instead of blaming other people for whatever it is that's wrong with you. Oh, and stay the hell away from me, because you're most likely going to bring bad karma. Ugh... sometimes thinking about stuff like this is almost enough to make me renounce my pacifist ways forever, because for some losers, a good shot to the temple is probably the only workable solution. Seriously, do not fuck with me, because push me too far, and I honestly would say 'Screw this pacifist shit, let's get down to the nine rounds of boxing. Bareknuckle.'

Thursday, November 18, 2004

fuck me up, steal my records 

Ten Random Things

1) I actually ate breakfast today, but for some reason I am hungrier than normal. When I skip out on breakfast, I'm never hungry until noon. Weird.

2) Hating people just because you can is cool. And then when they ask you what they've done to make you hate them, you can tell them, 'Nothing. I just hate you is all.'

3) I like indifference. It makes people ask fewer questions.

4) Notice that I used 'fewer' as opposed to 'less' in 3) because it is correct. Don't you just love it when I throw in a random lesson in grammar just because I think I'm better than everybody?

5) I don't think it's rude if someone drops by my house unannounced, and I keep doing whatever I was doing as though the person isn't there. I mean, shit, I have stuff to do, so maybe it's just good manners to phone ahead and make sure I can accomodate your stopping by for no particular reason.

6) If I am the one who has to buy toilet paper *yet again*, I'm going to fucking hide it in the trunk of my car, and stash the keys up my ass.

7) Explain to me again how babies are supposedly just as cute as puppies- I don't get it.

8) If you are drinking something at a bar that they call 'home brew', here's the deal. It's just the beer left in the bottoms of various kegs, combined and sold in pitchers. I'm fucking serious. The giveaway is that it costs less than $10, and they keep bringing you new pitchers even if you didn't ask for any.

9) They're not so much my 'friends' as they are my 'entourage'.

10) I'm very annoyed that yesterday it took me three trips down the same aisle at Safeway for me to find what it was that I was looking for. I'm such an asstard sometimes.

Wednesday, November 17, 2004

i'll be the flowers after you're dead 

I'm going to go see The Black Rider. Cool, no? I used to complain that none of the theatre companies in Cowtown ever did anything cool, but they're quickly learning what it is the people want to see. For anybody who's never really gotten into Tom Waits, I suggest you give him a listen. His more recent stuff can be a little difficult, but it's brilliant nonetheless. I'm not saying that you will definitely love it, but it's worth a shot.

So, I joined Blog Explosion because I was lacking things to do on some day or other, and to be honest with you? Meh... I really kind of don't get this whole 'blog popularity contest' going on. I mean, I definitely don't get the 30 comments plus per day that some people do, and I probably lose a lot of readers with my ranting, and just being plain little and mean, but I'm actually pretty happy with the amount of traffic I get here without random people stopping in and never coming back (like people who drink at your bar once, and then never become regulars- assholes). I like my ten or so faithful readers out there in blogland (it's probably less than that, really, but who's counting?), and I don't actually give a shit whether or not people comment on my posts. Sometimes there just isn't anything to say- especially if you read something and you just get it. No comments need to be made. If something I wrote made you smile (or laugh at my obvious insanity), then that's fucking great. I don't get insulted if I link someone and they don't link me back. I mean, maybe I'm not one of their daily reads- it happens. But it doesn't mean that I will cease to link to their site because they don't read all the worthless tripe that goes on here at ILJ. That's so 6th grade, and I am way over it. I am not the only one who thinks this way, either. I don't take anything personally in blogworld, and I definitely don't understand why people are so goddamned concerned with how many incoming links there are to their blog. It's not fucking high school, and besides, the popular people are now all super fat with three or more kids (karma sucks, dude). I think it's way more insulting if someone links you and never reads the drivel you work *ever so hard* to spew forth on a daily basis. It feels like the hot football player who signed your 12th grade yearbook, but when you go back and read what he wrote, it says To Charlene, and your name is actually Carol. Anyway, what the crap was the point? Oh yeah. Blog Explosion is just a ruse. It's an intelligently put together tool to suck in people who want their blogs to be loved and revered by the masses. To put it bluntly? It's blog crack, and kind of a waste of my time. Oh yeah, and if you feel insulted by this post? It's not like it was directed at anyone in particular. Personal vendettas are just not up my alley.

Tuesday, November 16, 2004

n***a please 

8-1 record for the Eagles? That's just good shit, dude. Not that anybody but me cares or anything.

I don't like to regret things, so I just don't. People make the decisions they do for a reason, and I find it stupid to all of a sudden feel guilt over something that I've done consciously (you know, without a gun being held to my head and all). If I am particularly harsh with someone on some occasion, I don't spend a lot of time moping around and thinking I've hurt their feelings beyond repair. Because I haven't. People need to be put in their place every once in awhile, otherwise they are unlikely to learn any lessons. I rarely apologize for my actions, and I never apologize for my words. To me, apologies can sometimes be a lot like self-doubt. If you know you are in the wrong, you will be unlikely to do certain things. And if you do these certain things? You most probably firmly believe you are correct in your actions. I mean, unless something happens that is completely beyond your control. That is just an accident. But you still wouldn't have to apologize, since saying sorry over something that is obviously accidental is... well, quite frankly, kind of dumb. Why would you want to apologize for something that wasn't your fault to begin with? Just how fucking low is your self esteem anyway? So, there is no point to this little blurb other than for me to let you know (maybe it's for the second time) that I think regrets and apologies are for self-flogging pussies. You know I'm right.


Wednesday, November 10, 2004

summer time, the nights are so long 

I meant to post four hours ago, but you know how it is. Work and all. I can't remember what exactly it was I was meaning to write about, so instead, here's Weird Word Wednesday (because I haven't done one in a really long time).

Ten Weird Words And What They Mean

1) abapical: at the lowest point (figuratively or literally?)
2) baetyl: magical or holy meteoric stone (like Kryptonite?)
3) cadge: to beg or sponge from another
4) darbies: handcuffs
5) eclosion: emergence, as from a larva or egg
6) fardel: anything cumbersome or irksome (humans included, I am assuming)
7) gallionic: uncaring; indifferent (just like me)
8) halieutics: study of fishing (someone needs a hobby)
9) ignivomous: vomiting or spewing forth fire
10) jocko: a chimpanzee ('jocko'...? okay, whatever)


Tuesday, November 09, 2004

can you help me find a way to carry on again 

I thought I wanted to post something, but it turns out I really don't want to. Maybe tomorrow. Tomorrow's another day, after all.

Monday, November 08, 2004

you took away everything i had, you put the hurt on me 

Well, what is there to say? The Eagles got trampled by the Steelers. I mean, 27-3? What the hell? I suppose that after a 7-game winning streak, they can afford to lose that one. Even if it sucks.

To be completely random (and, really, more because my weekend was void of excitement- well, you know that actually translates to 'void of alcohol abuse'), have you ever just sat around and paid really close attention to the way people laugh? There are some laughs that can't even really be called 'laughs' in the traditional sense; mainly because they sound more like the mating call of some water fowl or other. There are laughs that make you laugh too, not because you're laughing at the person, but because their laughter is rather infectious. Some people laugh quietly (it's kind of a sniffing sound), others laugh like goddamned Santa Claus (yeah... because he exists...), and some laughter consists mainly of the person's body shaking uncontrollably (which, by the way, is super, SUPER bizarre). Then you have the kind of laughter that when you hear it, you just want to walk over and fucking slap the person making the sound. You know what I'm talking about; the kind of laugh that bears a close resemblance to the shrieking of a monkey- high pitched, and loud enough to bust your eardrums. Dude, that is NOT an acceptable laugh. It is a reason for me to pretend that we do not know eachother in public. It is a reason for me to try and smother you with a pillow in private. Respectable people do not laugh like crazed primates... ever. So, if you ever happen to laugh like that in my presence? I probably won't hesitate to punch you in the face. But if I do hesitate? Run. Like. Hell.

Friday, November 05, 2004

jaws clenched tight, we talked all night 

It's becoming more and more evident to me that I've more or less outgrown this city. Not that I don't love it here- it's where I grew up, a lot of what I know is here, it's easy to get around, it's relatively clean- it's that I've come to the realization that just because it's what I know, it doesn't necessarily mean it's mine anymore. I mean, I've always known I probably wouldn't be in Cowtown forever. Last year, I was on the verge of buying real estate in town, but changed my mind in the end. Buying a residence somewhere is like sealing the deal that you're going to stick around for a long time... and I can't do that. Maybe I used to think that I'd want to stay put because most of my friends are here, and I don't think they have any intention of ever leaving, but what kind of person would I be if I always made decisions based on other people? That's not who I am. I am the girl who tried to move to Vancouver three times (albeit, unsuccessfully, but that is not the point here) on my own, with help from no one. I am the kind of person who has no qualms about going out by myself because sometimes, you just want to go out and why should you end up sitting around at home just because you can't find anyone who wants to come with you? I pretty much do whatever I want to just because I can. You see, I am not tied down by loyalty in the least. Other peoples' opinions matter to me, but not so much if they compromise my way of life. Friends can always come visit. You can always fly home for the holidays, and write letters and send pictures. I'm just finally ready for something else in my life. I don't want to become like everyone I know who's stayed here because they were too afraid to find out what might happen if they left. But that won't happen to me because, unlike them, I'm not afraid. I mean, it's really all about testing the waters. And if it doesn't work out? At least I can say that I tried. But I have a good feeling about things this time. For once in my life I'm optimistic that this time I really am going to find freedom and peace of mind. Okay, since I actually despise the word 'optimism'? Let's just leave it at: There's something good ahead. I can just tell.


[but i'm totally still stuck here for at least another year and a bit. my job contract isn't up until next november, and my car lease doesn't run out until 2006.]


Thursday, November 04, 2004

if you tell me that you'll wait for me, i'll say i won't be here 

I've been feeling quite low-spirited these days, and my mood gets worse and worse with the approach of Christmas. Yes, I am one of those cantankerous individuals who despises that holiday, simply for the fact that it is such a capitalistic shit show. Not that I'm all 'capitalism sucks', or anything, but every Xmas my friends seem overly concerned about the whole 'gift' aspect of it all. Yeah, so, it's totally my own fucking fault for having materialistic friends. That's not the point. The point is, isn't the 'gift' the time you get to spend with your friends and family? It's even more disconcerting that I still know people who give their parents 'Christmas lists'. What the hell? 28-year-olds who are completely independant, and yet still ask for shit from their poor folks for Christmas? I get enraged thinking about it. The last time I actually made a list of stuff I wanted from the folks for the 'Capitalist-Get-Fat-And-Dance-Around-A-Pine-Tree' holiday... I was 14 years old. And no, I am not kidding. Why should I ask them for stuff? They let me live in their house for years, and never made me pay rent, buy food, or clean up messes I didn't make. They paid for music lessons, dental work, and even car insurance. They made sure I had a good life. So, I stopped asking for gifts. It's up to them what they want to get me, and if they don't get me anything at all, that doesn't bother me in the least. So... where was I before I went off on a tangent? Oh yeah, the whole 'gift' thing. Save your goddamned money. Bake some cookies, and have your friends over to partake in a nice bottle of wine, instead. Make dinner for mom and dad, because god knows how many times they had to cook for your ungrateful ass over the years. You know, the people in your life are way more important than the dust-collectors the people in your life could potentially buy for you.

Ten Random Things

1) Pachelbel's Canon is playing on the radio. For most classically trained musicians, this is a nightmare. It conjures memories of endless wedding gigs. I want to bang my head against the wall right now.

2) When you've been with someone for almost two years, is it a bad sign that they still refer to many things as 'mine', and almost nothing as 'ours'?

3) It really bugs me when I meet someone who I think is pretty cool, but then I meet all of his/her friends and realize that they are just slight variations on one another. I would hate to hang out with a group of people who were all almost exactly like me. It would creep me the hell out.

4) You know what sucks ass? When you're finally introduced to someone that you've only ever heard about before, and everybody has always made them sound so cool, but you find that you don't care for them at all. So fucking awkward.

5) My hair is so greasy right now. Yuck.

6) I cannot stand when people preach to me about drinking too much or smoking weed, just because they don't do either thing. Okay, dude, nobody died because of my vices. And besides, I never complain to you that you're a self-righteous fuck. Back the hell off.

7) Have you ever just picked up and moved because one day you just had nothing better to do? I haven't done it yet, but it seems like a really random, messed-up thing to do.

8) There's nothing like seeing the guy you had a fling with four years ago (when you were 24 and he had just turned 20) at a bar, and he STILL gives you a second and third look. I've fucking still got it.

9) Answering an open-ended question with a 'yes' or 'no' because you were zoned out and not paying attention in the least? Not a good thing.

10) Right now I am craving a can of O'Keefe's Extra Old Stock. Actually, more like a six pack. Yeah, I know. Gross. Don't even bother to ask.

Wednesday, November 03, 2004

take a look around you, boy, it's bound to scare you, boy 


Well... I didn't vote for him. I couldn't have voted for him- I'm fucking Canadian.



Tuesday, November 02, 2004

and all the perfect words, they seem so wrong 

Yay! The furnace is fixed! The Boy called me at work to let me know that furnace dude (well, hey, I don't know what the official title is) came by at 8:30 this morning, and we now have heat. We're out $520... but we have heat. Heat!

Update on the J situation? There is no update- I haven't called yet. Give me time- it'll happen.

Sorry I'm so boring today; it's my first day eating french fries in over a month. My friend lost the bet, by the way, and now owes me dinner at the restaurant of my choice. Maybe I'll be a jerk and pick an oyster bar. I'm so good at winning bets... it would help if everybody I knew didn't have such a huge lack of willpower.

Guess what... it's only Tuesday.

Happy voting.


Monday, November 01, 2004

sitting here with a loaded gun; with my back to the sun 

Those goddamned alcoholics and their drunk posts, hey? How's it going? I'm doing... relatively shitty. The furnace is broken, my nose is all stuffed up, and I have to sit here and try to work. Yeah... we all know how well that's going to go... I'd blog about Halloween and all, but really, I can tell you everything in one sentence. I got super drunk really early, I took no pictures, I walked home in heels because we couldn't get a cab, and I slept under four blankets because THE STUPID FURNACE IS BROKEN. What do you want? Sometimes Halloween is just a huge fiasco.

* * * * * *

Do you ever miss people sometimes who you probably shouldn't, but you do anyway because they were a pretty major part of your life at some point, but now they aren't and you're partly to blame for that? Yeah, me too. J was this guy I used to hang out with from Victoria. 'Hang out' is kind of vague, because we really did a whole lot more than just 'hang out'. We were friends, we were lovers, we were dreamers- we had this kind of bond that was formed almost immediately the first time we met. We met at a keg party in Vic when I was 19 and he was 22, and I was still all rock 'n roll and thrift store clothes (maybe not much has changed in that department), and he was this baggy clothed skater guy who was still in university because he couldn't decide on a major. I said I liked his green trucker cap, he let me wear it, we spent the rest of the party huddled together on a garage roof drinking beer out of old laundry detergent cups, and for a long time after that night we were practically inseparable (other than the fact that I'd have to go back to Cowtown periodically to attend classes). We'd camp out on the beach sometimes, and just smoke joints and talk- mostly about me moving out to Victoria, and how awesome that was going to be. And sometimes, we'd just get in his car, throw our skateboards in the back and drive. Just turn the radio up and drive. And he'd always give me this look; a look like one day he wanted to carve me in stone. Sounds stupid and melodramatic, but that was just the look. Basically, he adored me, and I adored him back. I don't always really get what ended up happening- I was in town one day for the biggest kegger of that year, and there were some hard feelings. Mostly because I'd made no solid plans yet to pick up and move out to coast, and other shit that I can't really get into here, because it's between me and him (and another old 'friend' who I no longer speak to, and am now starting to realize had more to do with J's and my falling out than I believed at first). In any event, my sharp tongue and hard-headedness got the better of me, and all the hurtful words came flooding out. He said his share, I said mine (well, it was really more like yelling), and it ended badly. The kind of badly where we haven't talked in over 7 years. And I'd mostly forgotten about it and moved on, because that's what people do. Especially people who never want to admit that they might have been wrong, and that there might have been more to the picture than they knew, but it's just easier to push these things away like they never happened, and it was all just a bad dream. But I actually had a dream one night, and J was in it. He didn't say a whole lot, but he was there. And it was the first time he'd been there in a long time, even if it was just in my subconscious. I talked to this girl we both know last week, and she dropped me his number. Said he'd asked about me recently, but didn't say much more than that. I know we can't ever go back to the way things were 7 years ago; things have changed a lot in that time- we're not the same people we were that night, when we said so many things that we couldn't possibly have meant, and we never will be again. I'm 27 now, he's 30, we've had a lot of people come and go in our lives, and we just haven't been around for eachother at all. But somehow it would be a shame if I didn't take a second chance to reconnect with an old friend- one who I shared so much with- when it was staring me right in the face. Maybe I've just never tried because I have that stubborn pride about me. At the time, I felt wronged, but instead of swallowing my pride and trying to make things right... I just walked away mad, and never looked back. I mean, J was the only friend I ever had who actually got me. He was the only friend I had who didn't write me off because I lacked ambition. He didn't laugh at the fact that all I ever wanted from life was to skate, and drive, and listen to good music, and write, and draw, and sit on the beach, and find some peace of mind. It wasn't stupid to him, and somehow, I know it still isn't. So, maybe if I can work up the courage, I'll give him a call one of these days. Hope that he'll forgive me for being young and idiotic back then. Because it sucks to miss someone this much, particularly when you've been in denial about it for this long, and when you never even had to put yourself in the situation to miss them in the first place.