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Hello My Name is Rugged Fox

I am a 30-something bachelor living in Vancouver, BC, Canada. Pour yourself a glass of wine and join me on this tale of questionable fashion choices and epic dating fails.

sad gay bitch syndrome

There is nothing romantic about the winter in Vancouver. It is grey, wet and miserable. The other night, depressed and drenched, I tried to cheer myself up by pulling a total Gene Kelly down West Broadway. Jacking up the sound on my iPod, I collapsed my umbrella and whipped around the first moderately-sized pole I could find. Alas it was no use. And so I pirouetted in to the Fairview Pub and tap-danced all the way to a double Jameson's on the rocks.

I am a pussy when it comes to a lot of things, except the weather. After living in Winnipeg for seventeen years, I figured there wasn’t a forecast I couldn’t handle. That was until I moved to Vancouver. There is nothing more depressing than a weekly forecast that is brought to you by the colour grey. This time of year on the prairies, I would be soaking up the sun with a hot chocolate and bailey’s, cross-country skiing down the Assiniboine River, and meeting my friends later for pints of Fort Gary Dark at the Toad. Now that I am in Vancouver, instead I find myself googling pictures of sunrises, popping caffeine pills like Jessie Spano, and counting down the days until the clouds part and I feel normal again.     

Author’s note: Since I began writing this post, the sun has come out. Pardon me while I switch emotions.

After a recent change of skies, it has come to my attention that I may suffer from Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD), also known as Sad Gay Bitch Syndrome (SGBS). This morning when I woke up I felt better than I have in months! I opened my curtains to find the sky blue and the mountain peaks covered in snow. Jumping out of bed, I dusted off my brown aviators, threw on some SPF 45 and pranced four blocks to breakfast.

The heat of the sun on my cheeks, it occurred to me that I have become so accustomed to dragging my feet like a zombie I forgot what it feels like to be a human – to have life! Two weeks ago, I was waxing eloquent on this same keyboard about how I was going to start writing about depression, anxiety and alcoholism. No wonder, with a cloud hanging over my head for the last five months and a kitchen sink filled with red wine bottles, I have been suffering from all three!

Here is a picture from my notebook to further illustrate how my mood changes with the forecast:

Here is a table of quotes to explain how my thought process changes with the skies:

I suppose no matter where you go winter is about survival and pushing through. I read in a self-help book once that the sky is always blue; sometimes you just have to rise above the clouds to see it. I will let you know when I book my plane ticket.

what have i got?

chicken soup for the gay soul

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