Break

I've been wanting to update for a couple of weeks now, but for one reason or another, I kept putting it off. It's not that I didn't have anything to talk about; indeed, I have a lot to talk about. Something happened over the last two days that made this update possible, something that I really want to talk about. Perhaps I need to talk about it, if only to calm my stomach of these heebies and these jeebies.

My worldview is shaped by all the people around me and the way I need the world to work. Despite the wars, the tragedy, the sorrow, and all the other bad things going on in the world and in people's heads all around me, I like to think that people are good, that the default state for society is positive, that we're not going to hell in a handbasket, and that each successive generation would be better than the one that came before.

I've surrounded myself with good people, people you would be proud to have as friends and family, neighbours, fellow condo board members. I've led a generally charmed life in terms of my work, my family, my health, my home life, everything. No one I know has abandoned a child, no one I know has burned a cross, no one I know has had a terminal disease, no one I know has been maimed, no one I know has had a major drug problem, no one I know has spent any significant time in prison. For the most part, I would trust any and all of my friends to look out for me and to support me if anything bad were to happen.

So it's within this idyllic, naive, idealistic optimist's world that I live, supported by an extremely active fantasy life that helps me to ignore the realities of child poverty, hobos, violent youth, uncaring authority figures and self-serving ideologues in the world. Very few things can pierce this bubble. Money is one, since I require it for everything: living, eating, comfort, the sensual pleasures, intellectual fulfillment, and social interaction. When money is low, reality intrudes until I am secure once again. Another thing that can pierce the rose-coloured bubble is women.

Women are this little ninja's kryptonite. For the right woman, I would do something really stupid, something I wouldn't even consider doing were there not a woman in the picture. What have I considered, either in part or completely because I believed I would gain approval points with a woman? When I was in high school, I used to buy cigarettes (I didn't smoke, not even a little bit) in case one of the lovely young ladies asked for a cigarette. I've given out personal information, I've spent money I didn't really have, but mostly I've invested myself emotionally and trusted people before I was ready to do so.

Several years ago, I dated a young lady, let's call her Renee. At that time, I had chosen to take more risks in meeting women, wanting to find someone who might want to date this plucky little ninja and, oh, I dunno, like him. Romantically. Sexually. Whatever. I met Renee online and we talked for a loooooooooooong time before we met in person. We hit it off, and she seemed to like me. On the outside, she wasn't the best candidate for a partner. She didn't have a fixed address, she'd been in drug rehab, she'd given up a child for adoption at some point, and she didn't have a job. I didn't mind taking her out and spending time together until we stopped regular contact.

She went through several failed relationships over the next couple of years, many of them abusive, went into and out of rehab some more, and had no stability. I had perhaps one relationship in that time. We kept in sporadic contact, during which she still seemed to like me, so I held out hope that if she ever made it back into town on a more permanent basis, maybe we could get back together.

That never really panned out. One night she knocked on the door, asking for money. In spite of my better judgement, and a general rule to never have money owed between dates or partners, I loaned her some money. This is, I think, where the wheels of this relationship or interaction with Renee fell off, ultimately irreparably. The next night, she showed up with a friend who showed signs of a recent beating. Renee wanted to help her friend. Once again, in spite of the now deafening klaxons and warning lights, I once again loaned her some money. Two strikes against me, right?

Well, you're right. Strike three occurred when I was at work. Renee showed up at the house looking for me. Since I wasn't home, my roommate let her use the phone to call me. He also accepted her request for privacy and left her alone in my room with the door closed. Can you guess what happened? That's right, she stole from me. The only contact I had with her after that was an instant message conversation where she insisted her friend had stolen it that second time. Well, I wasn't keeping a close eye on that money. It definitely could have happened. But I cut my ties with her for, at the very least, bringing a thief into my house.

Fast forward.

A couple days ago, I saw that Renee's instant messaging account was online for the first time in months. I said hello, as, stupid me, I'd seen it in my heart to somewhat kinda sorta maybe forgive her. I know, the rose-coloured bubble intervenes. That is likely where Renee got it into her head that the best place to get money for drugs was a certain ninja she knew.

She showed up when I was out to dinner. She went upstairs and was told that I had moved to the downstairs apartment. When I got home, I immediately noticed the front door was unlocked. Weird, but I'd left it unlocked once or twice before. I chided myself to be more careful with locking the front door and went to the bedroom. You know that sense you get when something is out of place? Yeah, big time. My large change jar was missing. A couple of drawers in the bedroom were slightly opened.

A cool breeze came in, which was odd, since my place is generally too warm. Also, I have never opened a window since I moved into that place. Sure enough, the window was wide open. I called Jago down while I checked the rest of the place, and told Jago what happened. After confirming that nothing else was taken but the change jar, I bitched out my landlord for leaving that particular vulnerability exploitable for so long. He was something less than cooperative but was leaving town for three weeks. Stoopid timing.

He reassured me that I was perfectly safe now and that he would deal with it when he returned to town. Strangely, after a couple of weeks of neck pain and waking up several times a night, I slept amazingly well. So it was that I got through today eagerly awaiting my opportunity to vote in the federal election. While at the bus terminal waiting for my bus, I get a text that would both make my day and freak me out more than a little.

Guess who the police caught?

I called Jago back and he transferred me to one of the police officers on scene, who encouraged me to get home as fast as possible. The rest of the story is less arduous than the build-up, but maybe that's just my sense of relief and another attack on my sense of security and goodness. For you see, Renee has tried to break into my place again! Thankfully, Jago and the Dorklord were home at the time. Police were called, and my friends confronted Renee when she emerged from my place, some of my stuff in her hands.

When I arrived, Renee was in the back of the cruiser, coming down off a high, and I was bombarded with emotion. I talked a bit with the officers, identified my property, made a statement, and tried to deal with this blow to my bubble. I like to think that I carried myself well and that I didn't freak out or raise my voice or shame my ancestors. The police took her away and I spoke with my friends, who had saved me from even more severe freakouts later on had Renee succeeded in her quest.

I had rehearsal this evening and had delayed going to vote in order to come home, so Jago offered to take me to the polling station so I could do my patriotic duty before rehearsal. While waiting to leave for rehearsal, I spent about 45 minutes putting everything in my house in order--closing drawers, righting things upsot, ensuring doors are locked, securing the windows again. After the first break-in, I glued that side of the window shut. The second time, she used the other side of the window, which I blocked.

I just kinda sat in the dark and concentrated on breathing so the heebie-jeebies wouldn't get the better of me. I Tweeted about the break-in, texted some folks, and told a friend she could come over and hang out later tonight.

There's no punch line to this update. There's no moral or lesson to be learned. I hung out with my friend and we just talked about all kinds of stuff, but not the break-in. I felt more secure in knowing that a) my friends have my back, for which I am grateful, and b) there are good women out there, and some of them are my friends. So I'm mostly okay right now. I took a hit to the optimism for a bit, my trust in women has probably ensured that my next girlfriend will complain about my being emotionally distant or not romantic enough, and I'm down a few hundred dollars. My bubble was breached. I know it might not mean anything to anyone else, but to me, it means that one of the pillars of my outlook on life has been chipped.

I hope this is as bad as it gets for a while..