Vent

Oct. 13th, 2003 10:32 am
tablesaw: Katsuhiko Jinnai, from El Hazard (Jinnai)
I've been trying to write a letter to Ex, but it's not happening. Well, something's happening, but it's not the letter I'm supposed to write. Ex got married last week, and I have yet to say anything about it. The problem is that every time I set down something, I start pouring out my own issues, which isn't the point. And trying to cut all of that out leaves me with something so stiff and impersonal that it's almost and insult. Not what I want to say at all.

(For those just joining us, here's some background for my relationship with Ex and my relationship with Ex after my relationship with Ex: 3/17/2002, 6/22/2002, 9/19/2002 and possibly some other entries I can't find.)

Ex and I became close friends in Washington, D.C, where we attended one year of college together. At the end of that year, we both moved to different colleges, but we kept in close contact, thanks largely to her weekend job as a secretary at a business with a liberal toll-free-phone-line policy. Eventually, on a visit to LA, we started dating, and tried to continue it long-distance off and on for a while.

Breaking up with Ex is directly tied in to my ultimate crash at the end of a very long slide into the depths of depression. I can clearly trace back my depression to my Sophomore year in high school, but I'd always managed, generally, to keep things more or less balanced. Leaving school cut me loose in many ways, and I just got very, very bad. Depression severely warped my perception of reality in the months after I graduated from college, and I alienated my friends and family until I was pinning a lot of my life on my relationship with Ex. That relationship was falling apart because, well, I was falling apart; but I couldn't see/accept it. Eventually, on a long-before-scheduled trip to her home town where she finally, actually, firmly broke up with me, I had a complete breakdown.

Since then, I've been able to put my mind back together to a certain extent, though it's still a journey. Anyway, I need to get back to Ex.

At the end of our "relationship," Ex started seeing someone, whom we will call Xi (because I like saying "Ksaie!"). Considering what I've told you above, and even guessing at my mental state at the time, you can imagine that my view of Xi wasn't very pretty, or very accurate. A lot of my residual rage from that time is directed at him.

If you've looked at my "research" posts, you'll know that Ex and I have been in touch with each other for about a year now, through web journals. I guess this may be a new and interesting use of the Internet, but it's been good for me. I've gotten used to Ex being in my thoughts in new situations, ones that don't involve me being a ranting madman. But with this wedding, I realize that I haven't quite gotten closure on that time in my life. I've moved on, but there's still a little bit open.

I feel like I need to see her again, to solidify the communication we've had since the break up, to know that it's real, to have something slightly more like what we had before things got strange, back when we were friends who could talk for hours about art, philosophy, anime, and anything else.

Also, I need to meet Xi again. No, not again. I don't really think that first time counted. I think I'm better off assuming that I never met Xi and that what I remember from meeting him was just an elaborate imagining from my brain which bears no resemblance to reality. Ex really only talks about Xi tangentially in her journal, so that doesn't really give me a whole lot to go on. I feel like I need some reality to counteract the nightmare of three years ago, so that I can actually see why my friend is marrying him.

Wow. Three years. It's been a long time. I haven't really caught up with that part of my life. It feels more like a year ago. So much wasted space.

I'm still iffy on the letter, so here it is. Any and all suggestions are appreciated before I send this out: Read more... )
tablesaw: Katsuhiko Jinnai, from El Hazard (Jinnai)
Stew of The Negro Problem (the site doesn't seem to like Mozilla) recently put out a request to the Stew/Negro Problem Mailing List asking for the lyrics to the album Naked Dutch Painter. It seems that a reporter was asking for them, for ease of review, and Stew didn't have access to his copies, which were on his computer far away.

I was at work, bored, and [livejournal.com profile] wjukknibs had just recently returned my copy of the album that had been sitting uselessly in his apartment for several weeks, so I thought I'd do it. It was fun; I tested myself to see how well I remembered the lyrics and challenged myself to pattern the verses into more or less even metrical lines. By the time I was done, however, there had been a message to the list from Stew saying that he was going to use the transcripted lyrics from a previously existing site. (I receive daily digests that don't show up until around 2 a.m.) That bummed me out, but I sent the lyrics anyway, to Stew and to the maintainer of the other site, because I thought that my transcriptions were interesting, too, (Mine, at least, had capital letters, if sometimes an overabundance of punctuation) and because I had taken down three songs not already on the site.

Well, just now, I got an email back from Stew, in which he commiserates about downtime on the lobster shift. Moreover, he eventually opted to send my lyrics along instead of the other site's versions because "at a quick glance it seemed that [mine] were cleaner."

Woo!
tablesaw: -- (Default)
Many people have been doing it, and I think it's an interesting thing to do. Here's a listing of the gifts I received, and the gifts I gave thus far. (Subject to inaccuracies; I'm at work and not at my tree right now.)

To me:
From Mom: Three pairs of pants.
From Dad: Monty Python's Flying Circus DVD Pack.
From Mom and Dad: A set of pots and pans.
From Sister: Monty Python and the Holy Grail poster and a multi-function clock.
From Paternal Grandmother: Book of the Cathedral of Our Lady of the Angels and cash.
From Paternal Grandmother (with major coaching from Aunt): Discman, CD jacket and gift certificate to Sam Goody
From a different Aunt: Wallet and Tin with Clock.
From Godfather: Two volumes of Rising Stars.
From Maternal Grandparents: Gift certificate to Borders.
From Maternal Grandparents via "White Elephant Gift-Giving: Bi-Polar.
From Confirmation Sponsor: Some books, including a New Jerusalem Bible.
From [livejournal.com profile] wjukknibs: They Might Be Giants, No!; Metroid Prime promo DVD; and Powerpuff Girls Movie DVD.
From K: Mensa cards and M.C. Escher sliding puzzle.
From Ex: A Problem Like Maria: Gender and Sexuality in the American Musical
From Landlords: See's chocolates.

I think that's it for now.

From me:
To Mom: Original art by independent artist and an episode of Once and Again.
To Dad: DVD of The Man Who Would Be King and three episodes of Star Trek: The Next Generation.
To Sister: and Independence Day action figure
To Paternal Grandmother: A miniature topiary of dried flowers.
To Godfather: Mr. Magoo's Christmas Carol on DVD.
To Maternal Grandparents: Till Then: The Music that Helped the Allies Win the War
To Confirmation Sponsor: Stationery and butterfly rubber stamp.
To Sister of [livejournal.com profile] wjukknibs: Fun & Games: Things to Make and Do.
To Another Sister of [livejournal.com profile] wjukknibs: Powerpuff Girls calendar.
To Yet Another Sister of [livejournal.com profile] wjukknibs: Edward Gorey Calendar.
To Brother of [livejournal.com profile] wjukknibs: A Storm of Swords.
To [livejournal.com profile] wjukknibs: Trip to Vegas (date to be determined)
To K: Gift certificate to Gamestop.
To [livejournal.com profile] fauxpas: We Got the Neutron Bomb : The Untold Story of L.A. Punk.
To [livejournal.com profile] luxnightmare: The Rose and the Beast: Fairy Tales Retold.
To Ex: A Problem Like Maria: Gender and Sexuality in the American Musical
To Landlords: Upwords.
To Childhood Friend and his Father: Shell Shock!, an out-of-print board game.

Along with a few that haven't been given out yet. It's almost time to go home (thank God), and I'll see if I missed anything. It was a good Christmas. I got several things I will be able to make great use out of and am proud of most everything I found to give. Nothing left to do but wait for my birthday. (Thirteen more days!)

FriNYTX: 25:30. 54A? I am totally lost.

Rex.

Sep. 19th, 2002 11:06 am
tablesaw: -- (Default)
So, as I mentioned earlier, Ex has begun reading and commenting in my journal. I'm actually kind of glad. This may be a way to painlessly restart a friendship, from a distance.

She also directed me to her own webjournal. I don't feel comfortable giving the address even in this smaller area, but let me reprint a section I found early on.

I tried to work out (alone, in my head) a breakup that I had a long time ago... )

As you can imagine, this struck me pretty hard. But really, I don't have anything more to say, I think, than what I posted as a response:

So, yeah, I found you... )

I don't think there's much more to say, and I need to get to bed. Must wake up for Survivor Thailand, you know.
tablesaw: -- (Default)
I feel horribly behind on my journaling, mostly because I've been rather busy since work yesterday. Since I haven't the time to dedicate to a decent post about my life, I'll talk a bit about politics.

I was listening to Le Show on Sunday, which confirmed something I'd been wondering since Dubya's UN speech, namely that the current administration is, in fact, condemning Iraq for its invasion of Iran. Further, it does so despite the fact that the United States was encouraging Iraq to invade, helped them invade by giving them weapons and intelligence, then continued to give Iraq weapons and intelligence. Why hasn't anyone been saying this recently? Why hasn't the White House at least attempted to reconcile this hypocrisy? If we're responsible for for giving Iraq the knowledge to start its weapons program way-back-when, why don't we just, as Shearer tongue-in-cheekily put it, "Invade us for helping the Bad Guys? We wouldn't even have to worry about moving troops!"

I guess everyone will forget again as long as Ashcroft can promenade some new alleged Al-Qaida members.
tablesaw: -- (Default)
First, some history.

I wrote an entry about an email from Ex. A few hours later, I get an email from Ex answering the question that I wrote about in my journal but never asked her. Apparently, the information had been conveyed to her by a "mutual acquaintance," despite said acquaintance (hereinafter referred to as Mr. C) having never spoken directly to me about it. Since the mysterious Mr. C was reading my journal, I asked him to identify himself to me. Since that time, my journal has only been available for a few known persons to read. No one has come forward to take responsibility.

So today, my journal returns. Since Mr. C obviously does not intend to come forward, there is no sense in withholding my journal until he (or she) decides to come clean. As such, I am going back over the past two weeks' worth of entries and declassifying them, accompanied by the following message to Mr. C:

Mr. C (and any others like you)

Feel free to read my journal. That's why it's here, to be read. It is not intended only for strangers or only for close friends. But it is not to be used as a source of gossip. In fact, it should be the opposite. The presence of an online journal should prevent anyone from needing to do anything other than point to a url to exchange information about me.

That said, my journal is not a strictly factual creature. Oftentimes, I write more to release emotions than to chronicle the details of my life. Those times, especially, it is important to keep in mind the context of a journal, lest idle musings or ventings be taken as serious questions or concerns.

I had assumed that these ideas would be self-evident to anyone interested in reading my journal. Obviously, I was wrong. If these concepts are still too difficult to grasp, please feel free to remove yourself even further from my life than you already are.

Love,

Tablesaw

Two weeks.

Jul. 6th, 2002 06:56 am
tablesaw: -- (Default)
It's been two weeks since I switched my journal to friends-only. Two weeks where the first thing on my journal page is a request to contact me. Two weeks that someone hasn't.

When I get home, I'm going to retroactively de-friends-only-ize my journal, with a longer explanation. Till then, some shorter notes.

The deadline for the August Enigma is soon. In fact, tomorrow, so I need to buckle down and get some stuff in. I already completed one, a collaboration with [livejournal.com profile] tahnan. I've got one I need to revise and two I need to finish. So, the cavalcade of clerihew is a bit postponed. But in keeping with my NPL bent:

[livejournal.com profile] davidglasser's
One of the harassers
Asking me to mete
Out hints for a flat complete.

[livejournal.com profile] saxikath
Makes up math
Problems about cattle traders
For second-graders.

The Fourth of July with [livejournal.com profile] wjukknibs and company was a lot of fun. It makes me wish I were going to Vegas with lots of people I'd like to spend more time with. Actually, no. It makes me wish that all of those people had decided to go somewhere more interesting.

Speaking of going places interesting, I need to start planning for travel again. My cousin is getting married this fall in Portland, which makes me wonder if I should also try to swing up to Seattle. Then again, [livejournal.com profile] veek might send me psychic bombs of death vibes if I don't visit Boston/Providence. And [livejournal.com profile] wjukknibs is going to be going to Vegas again. (At least, I assume he is. He always seems to be.) Choices, choices, choices.

It was tough sleeping yesterday. I had to take a very active role in my dreams. I was aware, on a very basic level, that the only reason I was asleep was because I had a light mask on my face and was dreaming. If the dream ended, I knew I would immediately return to consciousness and be unable to get back to sleep. So I had to constantly think of new and interesting places to take my dream, to be sure that I got enough sleep.

MonNYTX: 6:30. Made some mistakes, and also nearly dropped my lunch on the floor. MonLATX: 5. TueNYTX: 4:30. TueLATX: 6:15. Who the hell is 24A? WedNYTX: 6.Under the circumstances, the clue for 52D is fantastic. WedLATX: 8:15. 54D? ThuNYTX: 20. Bleah. ThuLATX: 6:30. FriNYTX: 11:30. FriLATX 7.

EGirls.

Jun. 25th, 2002 12:37 pm
tablesaw: -- (Default)
Today I got email from Ex and T.

My anger has receded regarding the Journal-gossip-Ex matter, and she sent a very nice letter, to which i was able to respond a bit more myself, telling her a bit about the tired moving this weekend.

T. emailed me in response to an email I sent a while ago. I know that her life has been a bit busy. And she's still busy. But it's always nice to know that she remembers I'm here, especially when I haven't gotten to see her at Mass.

A change.

Jun. 22nd, 2002 08:59 am
tablesaw: -- (Default)
Recently, somthing happened that made me question the way that I run my journal. I made a brief post about my Ex on a very trivial matter. Within hours, I received an email from Ex saying that a "mutual acquaintance" had mentioned my concern over the email and proceeded to explain what had happened. She also mentioned that said person did seem to ahve talked to me in person. Which makes sense because after I posted the entry, I proceeded to forget the entire thing, until I got the second email. I certainly didn't mention it to anyone who, to my knowledge, knows Ex.

So someone who reads my journal, practically immediately contacted Ex about it. Ex admonished me saying that if I had felt slighted I should have just written her. Well, I wasn't going to write her and ask her about it because I knew that by doing so I'd just look silly. I know I can become paranoid at times, but I also know that it's usually for no reason. So while the email unsettled me enough to make me put up an entry expressing my confusion, in no way was I demanding or expecting an answer. But somebody has taken that confusion out of context and thrown it to Ex without my permission.

It had been my assumption that anyone reading my journal would have the sense to keep a certain sense of privacy about it. Instead, someone seems to be using it as grist for a gossip mill. And I'm pissed off.

I don't believe that Ex knew about my journal until I told her. If she did, there really was no reason for her not to tell me. I do have a short list of who I think it is and to what extent their actions may have been malicious.

I'm not upset that Ex may know things about my journal. In fact, I've given her the URL. I'm not even upset someone reading my journal would be someone I may not like or someone who may be in contact with Ex or both. I'm upset most greatly by the speed with which this gossip traveled. There was not a long period of time for someone to read the journal and inform Ex and then for Ex to email me, which makes me wonder if these types of updates have been occurring for quite a while. I am upset that whoever was sharing things I wrote in my journal with Ex didn't tell me. And I'm angry at the way I was taken out of context. I do not want to censor myself any more than I logically have to. If this means that future posts regarding Ex will be friends-locked, so be it, but I'm not going to spend the rest of my journal wondering what whispers it's fostering.

So long as I suspect that the information in my journal is going to be bounced around be people I know or used to know in ways that will come back to hurt me, I am forced to limit access to my posts. It is my intention that, after this matter is resolved, I'll revise these posts and remove the security restrictions on them. But this journal has become a part of my life, just like a more private journal, and I don't want to let one jerkoff completely shut-off an outlet for my writing.

If any of you now on this list know both Ex and me, let me know, now. I need closure on this.

FriLATX: 6:15. SatNYTX: 18. I'm having trouble with the crossing of 40D and 44A. SatLATX: 9:30.
tablesaw: -- (Default)
Will whoever emailed Ex about my recent post please contact me? I am keenly interested, on this matter, in who is reading my journal.
tablesaw: Katsuhiko Jinnai, from El Hazard (Jinnai)
Ex is moving in with her fiance, and she group-emailed a bunch of people to give out her new information. I got a copy, but on the "blind carbon copy" list. What's up with that?
tablesaw: -- (Default)
Vacation is ending, and I feel very alone.

I woke myself up at five a.m. to watch a sunrise that was obscured by clouds that weren't on the horizon last night and will be gone completely by the time we check out of the house at ten. Nobody else in this house or, apparently, any other nearby house had the desire to try same.

Two nights ago I slept in the lounge for the same reason, to set my alarm for five a.m. with the hope of watching the sun be on the wrong side of the day. I stayed up late drinking with my housemates and fell asleep to the susurrations of a slightly more than tipsy woman and her devoted lover, who stood a hawklike vigil over her while she drank water and whispered herself to sleep. The whole thing left me feeling odd.

I miss Ex, more right now than I have in a while, undoubtedly due, in no small part, to the fact that two of the most beautiful and brilliant women I've met are here in this house with me, both of whom bear a more than passing resemblance to Ex. When one walks by, glowing with love for her beau, my body twists in memory and anticipation. But I don't wish that Ex and I were still together and lying together on the beach, nor do I wish that one of the women here were with me instead of her actual boyfriend. I want something more encompassing and more fundamental.

When Ex and I broke up and I had my life-shattering breakdown, I lost a lot of people I love, not just Ex. "You have to love yourself before you can love anyone else" says an old saw, and I've seen enough to know it's true. I lost loves and friendships because I wasn't able to give them the love I once did. And for quite a while after that time, while I was rebuilding myself, I certainly didn't miss the requirement, the need to pour out love I didn't yet have.

It's about a year and a half later, and I've started to ache. It started when veek visited. She came to LA with an openness to be loved and a life I now envy so much, a life with many people with whom she can commune. I responded more earnestly than I could have expected, more emotionally than I had in over eighteen months, leaving my weak and trying to find, again, what I was missing.

I worry now. The ache of love shakes me all over, and I am not certain I can stay alive if warehouses of compassion must be left untouched to mold and mildew.

How do I tell the people here (and only certain people, at that) that I'd be willing to lay down my life for them? It's not so much a matter of friendship and camaraderie or good conversations and shared experiences, it's instinct. How can I do it without needing to disclaim, "And I'm not a crazy stalker-type, honest!" And how do I become a friend again when, within hours, everyone will once again be hundreds and thousands of miles away?

There's one person here, possibly (hopefully) two, who knows how I feel, and that is a blessing. I'd probably be feeling less disoriented today if I'd had a chance to talk with either of them earlier yesterday.

I want a lover, today, so that I can hold her in my arms and tell her that I love her and that I will always love her and that I would do anything for her and that I would lay down my life for her and that I would go to the ends of the earth for her and that I would turn my back on Heaven's gates if the politics of God and the afterlife prevent her from entering Paradise. I want to hold her and while doing it, also say the same to so tell her so many others who wouldn't or couldn't understand.


The sun is up, and the clouds are gone, and I have to pack.

I've still had a great time, and enjoyed this week as much as, if not more than, any other vacation in my life, but card games and Clone Wars can wait for a while to be recorded, this can't. I hope you understand. See you at home.
tablesaw: -- (Default)
ThuNYTX: 7:45. Fun theme. ThuLATX: 5:30. An unusual theme.

I have a variety of cheeses and toppings for the pizza and cheese extravaganza with [livejournal.com profile] veek after work. It will be most fun.

QB (formerly known as the awkwardly and inappropriately aliased 'wheelchair girl') responded today, and I sent back another letter. Communication with I. is still moving slowly, and I think I may have come up with a cover story that would take me into the parish center. Now to pray that T. will be there.

I found a mix tape I made for Ex long before we started dating. It's a good tape, and so I blasted the music loudly as I drove, something I haven't done for a while. It's been too long since I listened to some of those bands like Belle and Sebastian, Maggie Estep and Dudley. For that matter, it's been a long time since I played tapes in my car; I thought the tape player had been broken.
tablesaw: -- (Default)
Ex sends back a response rather quickly, strong undercurrents of relief from her writing. All is good on that front.
tablesaw: -- (Default)
Finaly responded to Ex's engagement announcement. Following veek's comment, I used the previous journal entry as a basis, but I also made it more personal. Further, I didn't really want to give her the link to this journal just yet. Maybe some other time.

In other news, I did hear back from J., albeit briefly. She wanted to thank me for my understanding regarding her wish not to speak to me for a while. (Wow, that's a lot more confusing written out.) It was a nice thing to do, especially since I wasn't expecting any response at all. This adds a bit more hope that there'll be a reunion (of some sort) somewhere along the line.

Still trying with internet personals. I've been using eHarmony in additon to Match.com. eHarmony has a strange approach to opening communication, but the matches seem to be much more suitable, certainly better than Match.com's just-short-of-random associations. Don't get me wrong, I still like Match--it's got a nice variety of people--but a wide variety means a lot more work to find a J. On the other hand, Miss Alkies was a match provided by eHarmony. Drawbacks on both sides.

In fact, I need to send out another Match attempt now. Later.

The ring.

Mar. 17th, 2002 07:13 am
tablesaw: -- (Default)
Yesterday I received an email from my ex-girlfriend letting me know that she was engaged. I have yet to respond.

It was a difficult break-up, but I'm over the fact that we've broken up and that's just how it's going to be from now on. The problem is that the break-up was and is enmeshed with my battle with depression. A short version of the story goes: "She broke up with me over a year ago because my depression had become so acute that my personality became almost unrecognizable. After she said so to my face, I cleaned up my act, but we remained broken up."

So now, I've been depressionless for a long time, but this girl still brings the pain and agony of that time to me. It's nothing to do with her, she's just the catalyst. In my mind, I know that she's happy, and I'm glad, and I wish her the best. But in my heart, there's still a very tender wound. Of course, she didn't make the wound either. I did. And that makes it harder to heal.

I've tried the "let's stay friends" thing. We were very close friends before we dated, and she is one of the smartest people I've ever met; but the association of her with my depression and angst is still too strong. I wonder, sometimes, if I saw her again, in a different situation, things might be better--just to have another image of her after this event, a new image that doesn't have me sobbing or trembling. But who knows if that will work either. Time heals all wounds, say the people who have to say something, but some take longer than other. And when I come to a point like this, I almost feel as though I'm letting her down again, as though I'm letting my depression keep my from being even a friend to her. Almost. I know that it isn't true.

(Side note that it doesn't help that her new fiancee is the guy who she was seeing when we broke up. Lots of negativity there, mostly jealousy and self-loathing, so I've absolutely no basis for objective thought in that matter.)

The whole thing resides in an emotional blind spot--or maybe less of a blind spot than a sunspot, bright light that burns the eye upon examination. So even after my emotions have settled I can still think of nothing to say.

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