tablesaw: Two yellow roses against a bright blue sky. (Family Roses)
I can't yet say all I want to say, but I learned this morning that [personal profile] tam_nonlinear is dead.

I knew her from LJ from over a decade ago, but like many LJ/DW contacts, I wasn't in touch as much for a while. I would occasionally see the updates on DW about her garden, her cats, and her clinic-escort volunteering. She was one of the people I was hoping to get in contact with again.

Her family has asked for donations to be made to the Washington Area Clinic-Defense Task Force.
tablesaw: -- (Real1)
Short version:

I've been laid off again, and I'd like help taking a month or so catching up with technology and programming, most likely with the goal of starting a new career, but also for my own fulfillment.

OK—deep breath—let me elaborate.

At the beginning of February, everyone in my department was called into a room at the same time despite being in offices across the country, and we were informed that our department was being outsourced. This has happened before. The last time it happened, I ended up working temp assignments pretty much immediately, and I worked continuously (though at temp-job salary) for about a year, when I got a permanent position. It was a good permanent position with a good salary, but everything's come around again, and my last day of work is on Friday.

I've been putting off planning what I'm going to do next, because up until last week, I'd been busy planning a wedding (mine, yeah, happened last week, sorry I didn't mention it here). But now, satisfactorily wedded, I'm turning my attention to the empty days ahead, and what I need right now is a lot of help.

See, I know that if I wanted to, I could go back to the placement agencies and go through the same cycle again, but because I do a pretty niche administrative job, outsourcing seems eternally inevitable. And it's not a job I particularly enjoy; the thing it had most to recommend itself was stability, and it's clearly lost that. I'm looking toward something new.

I'm skirting around this paragraph, because it feels like I'm giving into cliche. I want to get into programming!!!1! That's the hot new thing, right? I was at this pool party and a man leaned over and whispered into my ear, "Programming," and now I'm going to do something on the World Wide Web!

But it's more than that. I started programming when I was six, but I stopped in college when I shifted focus to arts and performance to help ease my growing depression. And as time went on, I fell more and more out of sync with things. The world became plug-and-play, and I got complacent. Through it all, I missed programming, but felt like I never had the time to bring my programming expertise literally out of the twentieth century. I know how to code, I just don't really know anything to code in any more.

The last time I was laid off, a friend encouraged me to shift to web development, and I was just about to start looking at Rails, but the temp work came in fast, and I let it all slide. I don't want that to happen again, so I'm telling the placement agency that I'm taking a month for myself to learn new skills. I've got a cushion from the severance package, so I don't need to worry about income immediately, certainly not for a month. So I'm looking at April, at least, as a catch-up month.

And now, I get around to the help. I am friends with lots of very smart people in all areas of technology and programming (psst, that's you), and I'm hoping that I can both get lots of help, but also spread that amongst a bunch of you, so I don't feel like I'm leaning too hard on anyone. Some things I'd like to hear your thoughts about right now:
  • What sort of programming should I be looking at doing? As I said above, I have a good friend who's pushing me strongly into doing webdev, which seems promising. But I know I have firends (who don't see me every week for gaming) in other fields who might want to stump for their own specialties. Any thoughts?
  • What references/manuals do you recommend? I'd like to get any books I should look for sooner rather than later.
  • What sort of technology am I going to need? I've got a cheap, basic prebuilt desktop computer that I bought at Staples five years ago. It has been intimated that I might need a laptop or something stronger.
But knowing myself, I think these next two are the most important:
  • What sorts of challenges can I set up for myself to drive learning?
  • Can I bug you for help and encouragement?
I know that I learn best when I can apply techniques to a specific problem, and it's hard for me to invent those out of thin air. And I'm always a little anxious about making direct contact with folks, so knowing that it's okay will help a lot.

I don't really know what's going to come of all of this. It's possible that at the end of all of this, I'm going to go back to doing the same kind of job, or shift to an administrative IT position, but I just want to feel like I'm caught up with everything.

Thanks for everything.


Mar. 5th, 2013 07:26 pm
tablesaw: Charlie Crews, in a dark suit, rests his head on his left hand (That's Life)
I was planning on writing things. I haven't.

My last temp job ended last week, and I'm still looking for something new.

It's clear to me that I'm on that borderline of depression. I'm going to need some more structure to what I'm doing to get a handle on things.

Just letting you all know, help keep an eye on me, suggest things to write about, etc.
tablesaw: A man comes home frome work, his hat reads "Crossword Makers Inc" (Crossword Makers Inc)
When I started this temp gig, I threw myself at it with abandon. I'd been feeling sad and anxious and worried about not having work and maybe never having work again and being unwanted by everyone, and then there was some work. Yay! Everything fixed.

What actually happened is that instead of resolving the stress and anxiety of not being employed, it was transmuted into a laser-like focus on this new job (again, only a temp job) so that I wasn't paying attention to friends or anything else. It had a new commute long, which was new, but I still felt like at the end of the night I was tired and didn't have time to do or see much.

My friends have been waking me up out of that, and I'm talking with people again, but it’s a small circle of people on my chat, text, and social meetups. Going from talking to almost nobody to talking to a few people again is making me miss the nice broad sweep of broadcast information that a journal gives me. And though I keep reading DW and LJ and Tumblr, I don't interact even in comments, much.

But my schedule is really SNAFU, so I'm not going to make any promises about that. Last week, I only worked 2.8 days because of the U.S. holiday and an extra day I took to spend time with my family on the beach. This week, I'm getting prepared to go to Portland, Oregon for a week and a half for the National Puzzlers' League Convention, followed by a family wedding.

I mean, really; the Con is two days away. The pre-pre-con party is happening right now, I think. I am probably the least prepared for this con than I ever have been for any con ever. I am going to show up on Thursday and I probably still won't understand why all of these people I know happen to be at the hotel. The whole things just feels so weird.

More pressingly, I have no idea what I'm going to do for the three or four extra days that I'm in Portland. I may, in fact, spend them mostly in a hotel room reading actual books. Which will be okay too. But it's more vacation than I'm really used to ever taking in another city on my own.

Poll #11098 PORTLAND
Open to: Registered Users, detailed results viewable to: All, participants: 5

What should I do with my free time in Portland, Oregon?

Rambly post is rambly. I defy editing.
tablesaw: Charlie Crews, in a dark suit, rests his head on his left hand (That's Life)
I was laid off from my job last week, with nothing in particular lined up for the future. I've got some savings and some severance, and I'm filing for unemployment. I'm going to be posting more, I think, as I try to get a handle on all my free time.


Oct. 14th, 2011 03:03 am
tablesaw: Charlie Crews, in a dark suit, rests his head on his left hand (That's Life)
I've been in my head too much, recently.

No, that's not it.

I haven't been letting enough of me out of my head, recently.

I'm going to try to force myself to do more journaling.

Also commenting. I tend to think that I shouldn't respond unless I have something substantive to say.

I need to remember that "thank you" and "I hope you feel better" are also substantive things to say.

So. Post before bed.

You know, I made this icon so that I would have something I could use when I talk about the show Life. I didn't expect it would be so necessary for my actual life.
tablesaw: Supervillain Frita Kahlo says, 'Dolor!' (Que Dolor!)
This has not been the greatest week, for various reasons. Some of those reasons are private and complicated. Some of them are not. Among the public and uncomplicated reasons, I went to work today without my cell phone. Or my keys. And I have no idea where the building manager is or when (or if) he'll be back. So I'm at Kinko's now. The "let's just spend some time in Hollywood" time has run into "uh, can I get in touch with someone to let me sleep somewhere?"

Among the private and complicated ones, well . . .

With various emotional ups and downs, it's pretty clear that I'm experiencing some general depression. And now that those emotional things are kind of settling, it's just out there in the open. Nothing major, but still annoying to deal with. Especially when all this stupid stuff happens.

So, just, generally, if you have a moment, I could kind of use people saying things to boost up my self-worth. I'm in the frame of mind where I don't immediately discount them, and they've been absurdly beneficial to me the last few days. They don't even need to be creative, just hearing good things from other people is kind of what I need at the moment.

That, and for my manager to finally be there when I walk back across the street.

ETA: I finally got in touch with my manager. Or rather, my manager's son, since the manager is apparently on vacation. So he graciously drove over and let me into the house. Time to numb my brain with TV.


Jun. 5th, 2011 10:58 pm
tablesaw: -- (Default)
Things done since ever.

  • Bought tickets for the NPL Convention in Providence. Will be flying into Boston on the 4th (5 p.m. EDT), looking to bum around before heading to the hotel on Wednesday afternoon, then flying out of Logan early on the 11th (7 a.m.). Who'll be around?
  • I also said, "Screw it!" and asked for the rest of that week off from work, so it's going to be a real vacation for me all through to the 15th. I don't know what I'm going to do with myself. But it will not be working.
  • I'm coming out of a funk (well, came out of a funk a week or so ago). It's always hard to identify it when I'm in it, till my body rebels and says, "No, Tablesaw, you need to do things again. You're going to do those situps, and then you're going to go out and see people." I'm looking ahead to when the pushback happens, the time when I feel a little sick or a little tired, and I let my momentum slip, and I can't pick it up again. On the horizon, this is most likely to happen because . . .
  • I'm probably going into the dentist this week to get my other wisdom tooth looked at. I have a feeling it's going to need removal too. The last time that happened it took a lot out of me. If it happens again, I'm going to need to plan ahead so that I can remomentatize myself.
  • I planned to go geocaching with [personal profile] trinker, and then found out it was to happen on her birthday, so I went all out to be the birthday fairy. It turned out kind of okay.
  • All the TV shows ended, and everyone is pregnant, I guess.
  • My phone, my crappy-ass phone—that is only one step removed from a crappy assphone—has started losing its charge, so I'm actually getting a smartphone. Virgin Mobile, which I've been using to keep my cell-phone bill under $10/month, has an unlimited data plan for $25/month. It should arrive this week. So that'll be interesting.
  • The Portal 2 print is framed and gorgeous-looking. I'm also wrestling with framing these prints on the cheap, which would be easier if the United States and Canada hadn't decided that they wanted their own special paper sizes.
  • Oh, I got a haircut too. For me, it's super short. But then, my hair was getting kind of long. For a while, it looked way too young for my big, bearded, thirty-three-year-old face, but it's looking better with a beard trim.
  • I watched a friend run Dungeon World at Strategicon over the weekend, which got me rereading Apocalypse World. After playing through a campaign, the directives made a lot more sense. It's a fascinating game, which is probably why I keep talking about it to everyone I meet. Also, much like with Smallville, I'm seeing it in the shows I watch. Sons of Anarchy and Dexter are totally running on Apocalypse World.
  • Finished Dragon Age:Origins. Pablum is too exciting a word.
  • Visited the Museum of Death, knocking another item off of my bucket list (defined as things that are close enough for me to throw a bucket at). It was disappointing. I was hoping for a curatorial perspective beyond, "WOW ISN'T THIS COOOOOOOOL!? SERIAL KILLERS, MAN! FUCK SOCIETY!" There were some nice touches: a set of crime-scene photographs near (what I assume was) the brief mention of the murder-suicide. On the other hand, relics of Jeffrey Dahmer and Ed Gein were counterposed with "ads containing humorous depictions of cannibals." Yeah, that wasn't too pleasant.
Gotta go to bed now . . .
tablesaw: A black woman and a white man hold each other on a park bench. Text reads "2004-2010." (Ojouchan)
I've created a new access list for me to talk about my emotions during my breakup. By default, most people with general access to this blog are on this list, with the exception of [ profile] ojouchan and a few mutual friends that I would not feel comfortable venting to at all. You can visit the introductory post to see if you're on the filter.

This filter is not about "picking sides" in the breakup. It's mostly about keeping our emotional fallout sequestered from each other, so that we can move on healthily. But it's also about letting people decide how much they want to hear about that fallout.

In the process of creating the access list, I also renovated my friends lists on LJ and DW. There wasn't anything particularly drastic; most of the people who I removed were inactive journals. However, the undertaking was large enough that I very likely made mistakes.

If you want access (or want renewed access) to this blog or to the breakup filter, you can comment to this post. All responses are screened.

It's over.

Oct. 28th, 2010 08:17 pm
tablesaw: A black woman and a white man hold each other on a park bench. Text reads "2004-2010." (Ojouchan)
[ profile] ojouchan and I have broken up and ended our engagement.

You may or may not know that we've been having troubles and were taking a break. This is not a break; it's over. Please don't question the finality of the decision.

Our friendship remains essentially intact, but it's very difficult for each of us emotionally.

Comments are open, but I'm not entirely comfortable saying much about this publicly yet. I may reach out privately if I haven't already. I may set up a filter to process this.

Please also keep in mind that my family reads this journal and are finding this out too. Mom, Dad, I may not be ready to talk immediately.
tablesaw: Run Away (to the ocean, to the country, to the mountains . . .) (Runaway)
I suppose it would happen that I lose internet access when I'm having an existential crisis. The internet is something I use to fend them off.

I've been making a fanmix for a Whedonland challenge, and that's meant digging deep into my music collection. And digging deep into my music collection has meant listening to music I haven't heard in a while. And listening to music I haven't heard in a while means feeling things I haven't felt in a while.

I've been flashing back to the feeling of the Tower Records at GW, the place where I browsed magazines and books, where I bought new music (that I still have), where I saw Suzanne Vega talk about meeting Lou Reed. just across the way there was an ice-cream place (was it a Coldstone's?) and an Au Bon Pain and a bar I never went to because I didn't turn 21 until I was at UCSB, and I remember it in flashes of how I felt that day, cold or wet or hot or tired or excited or scared or depressed or infatuated or proud.

Or I'll remember standing in the Albany airport, waiting for [ profile] isako to give me a ride to meet [ profile] ojouchan for the second time, or the same airport later, when my mom called to tell me that my grandmother had died while I was away.

And every flash is different. It impresses upon me that I never really know who I am, because I'm always changing. I don't know who I am right now.

In a lot of ways, I'm afraid of the past more than the future. The past can do as much damage as the future, but unlike the future, it can't be changed. And every year, there's just so much more of it: more pain, more joy, more laughter, more momentum, more power.

So I like to move forward, focusing on the short term, and leaving anything that's fallen out of my view deep in the past, because once I let it drop, it might not be something that's mine. It's something that belonged to a past me.

If I had the internet on right now, I'd go back and look at my posts. But I can tell, right now, that this is the kind of thing I'd be willing to post years ago, but haven't posted much recently. I'm only doing it now because I'm scared, and I can't sleep, and the only way I can reach out right now is with the phone and everyone I know is (or is probably) asleep. But then, back then, I was a lot more lonely, too, I guess. I've been feeling so many things, but haven't wanted to say them, or write them, and there's been so much to do with friends and family and work and all.

I don't know what's going to change. I do know that I'm more regularly social right now than I've been since college, with two gaming groups, one regular group TV-watching, a close friend at work, and dating with [ profile] ojouchan. And I know it's going to be a hard time sleeping tonight.

But even now, I'm feeling the relief this blog used to bring, easing the pressure of loneliness and melancholy.

Also, I'm getting a wisdom tooth pulled tomorrow. That's not really much compared to the memories making me revaluate my concept of identity, but it's also not helping me get to sleep either.

(finished 2:12 a.m.)

Internet is back, the result of my modem and router being finicky about the order they got turned on. Off to the dentist now,and I'll look for and add the links I was thinking of when I get back.


Mar. 25th, 2004 01:59 am
tablesaw: "Tablesaw Basics" (Manual)
I've been in a very noncreative mood recently. Not a mood for novels or journals; a mood for television and videogames. Barely in a mood for music; more in a mood for news. (In what may or may not be unrelated news, music by Tori Amos and Bjork scared me today.) I need some real stimulation. I need someone to massage my mind. Or my body, actually. Both, preferably.

There's a puzzle party this weekend, which hopefully will perk me up. And speaking of puzzles and perking up, I must now begin my plans to return to Boston/Cambridge for the 2004 NPL Convention. The convention proper is July 8-11, but the convention improper is apparently going to begin as early as July 3. (This unofficial program will undoubtedly be aided by the high number of NPL members already in the area. I'd give figures, but my directory is at home.) I'm interested to see what gets whipped up before the con, since I'm going to be helping to do that sort of unofficial program next year, when the convention is held in Los Angeles. On the other hand, I'm not sure if I want to dedicate so much resources (money, vacation time). On the other other hand, I've been noticing that, even outside of the NPL, I have started knowing more and more people in Boston, and it might be fun to get a chance to hang out with them before my time is monopolized by the NPL.

Does anyone living in or near Boston have any input on that week before?

ThuNYTX: 11. Lots of fun. ThuLATX: 8.

Ex, Oh.

Oct. 22nd, 2003 11:24 pm
tablesaw: -- (Default)
I really don't have anything to say about the death of Elliott Smith, but today, on the The Negro Problem mailing list, Stew, also of Silverlake, had something to say which, I believe, deserves a larger audience:
for many of us this terribly sad info will come as no surprise whatsoever. anyone even remotely "silverlake" or "pop geekish" or just unfortunate enough to have ever seen him in live meltdown mode was quite familiar with Smith's condition.

What makes me really angry is how, just as in the case of cobain, record companies, managers, promoters and anyone else primed to make cash off the artist are happy to keep mum on the subject of whatever hell the artist is going thru instead of publicly calling attention to what may have started as a lifestyle choice but has clearly turned into a disease. And the record companies always win cuz for them the only thing better than young and cute is dead and mythic.

Everyone in silverlake has a truckload of smith stories they'll be trading over capucino today. I heard stories from people who worked closely with him (we worked in the same studio for a time) that were frightfully sad but on further reflection made me angry at all the people around him who juiced him instead of helped him.

And a word to all those "fans" who love to trade stories about how fucked up their favorite problematic rock star was at this or that show -- you lot are part of the problem as well. People with drug problems are to be pitied and helped, not glorified.

I dont know which clique disgusts me more - the sick vulture fans who love to see their stars stumble and fall or the suits who stand to make a bundle while giving a really sensitive quote about Smith's artistry to
Amen, Stew. Rest in peace, Elliott.


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: -- (Default)
September's gone already. The crushing heat is over. The forest fires have stopped. My house is a year old. School is very much happening again. There's less and less sunlight to be in. The fog sits in the canyons every morning. And the California flora gets guilty about staying alive while its relatives across the country grow withery.

How did it get so late so soon?
It's night before it's afternoon.
December's here before it's June.
My goodness how the time has flewn.
How did it get so late so soon?
— Dr. Seuss

Doof Us.

Sep. 10th, 2003 08:46 am
tablesaw: A young Shawn Spencer learns proper saw technique from his dad. (Cartoon)
Recently, I've been unable to bring myself to cook food, either for breakfast or lunch. I attribute this to the presence of pretzels. I bought them for the Labor Day party thinking, "Man, I haven't had pretzels in a long time." Well, now I know why. Just as the salt pulls essential liquids from me, the morphic resonance of the pretzel shape itself sucks culinary ambition from me.

It was very quiet at work tonight. Very quiet. It was nice. After yesterday, I wasn't sure that I'd be able to handle a full work week. Then Artistry reminded me that I don't have a full work week, since I'm taking Saturday off for an NPL party. And with the quietness at work, I'm feeling much calmer.

I wonder if I'll have anything to bring to Saturday, though.

WedNYTX: 10.


Sep. 9th, 2003 02:05 pm
tablesaw: -- (Default)
Recently, someone mentioned how she feels "loserish" when staying home on a Saturday night doing nothing. I responded:
See, I feel that bit of shame and loserishness on Sunday night (now Tuesday morning) when it's the very end of the weekend and I realize that I haven't done anything. Of course, while I'm actually staying home doing nothing, I usually feel great. Hooray for quiet!
I wrote that at work, before my weekend began. Now it's Tuesday morning, and those words have hit me like a deadly boomerang of angst.

I spent this weekend reading. And reading and reading. When I got home on Sunday morning, I opened the windows and the door and took off my shoes and lay on my couch and felt good. When my mother called to update me on things and ask me about things, I told her that I was reading with my shoes off. I went to bed late and woke up and read. I stayed up late reading, and then I slept in and woke up and read some more. I did go out and get some exercise, but then I came back home and read some more more, although I shook things up a bit by reading things on the Internet, not bound in books. And now it's late on Tuesday and I'm suddenly realizing that the reason I feel a bit odd is because all of the diverse voices I've surrounded myself with over the past forty-eight hours have been in my own head.

And the quiet is not currently hurray-worthy.

There was something I did besides read, this morning. I ran through my cd collection looking for tracks to sing along to. I sang loud and proud in my carriage house at four o'clock in the morning. And it filled me with the same intoxicating joy as the reading.

What's going on inside me is complex, and I can't seem to express what it is without using words like roiling. I can't bring myself to use those words, right now, so we'll move on. The point is that my mouth feels rusted, and the pressure of its disuse over this weekend is worrying.

And I should go to bed now, so I can get up and watch the new episode of MI-5 (Apparently it has Dr. Bashir in it), but something me going. And the main reason I'm writing this entry is because, if I don't I'll probably go back to reading, and then there'll be no end to it.

And strange things are happening. There's drama on LJ, there's still watermelon in my fridge, and I'm going to get an electronic monkey on my shoulder because I can solve cryptics.

It's been a strange weekend.

It will continue to be one until I go to bed.

It will continue to be one as I prolong this entry.

I swallow my Prozac (actually fluoxetine) and think about where I was three years ago. I don't get very far, because everything from then is pretty scrambled, but thinking about it reminds how odd it is that I enjoy my life. Even when I wake up and think my life is boring or tired or sad, I really like it. Before, even when I liked my life I hated it; now, even when I hate my life, I love it.

It's now the time of day when every extra minute I keep my eyes open will be felt by me at work later on. The clocks around me tick upwards passive-aggressively (well, only the analogue alarm clock ticks, the other silently change) and I try to ignore them while I add parentheticals to my writing.

I'm trying to work it out of me. I'm trying to work out everything I took in, but there's not enough time, and it's not working because through it all my mouth stays closed and my voice stays mute and I don't have an ending to this weekend. I need an ending to this weekend, something other than my time for today's crossword puzzle, which is apparently all I have. I need someone to sing me to sleep tonight, and someone to sing to sleep before I tiptoe out the door to read and proofread safe, soulless things.

TueNYTX: 7.
tablesaw: -- (Default)
A while back, I stopped hearing from Wendy at all, and I got a little worried about her. I emailed her asking what was going on, and she eventually responded. But at the end of her message was a paragraph that is confusing me, and I'd like to know what other people think, whether it's just me.
In other news, it's really difficult for me to have normal conversations with you . . . ) Right now I'm just really uncomfortable having contact with you, and I will remain so unless there is some real communication -- AND REAL FRIENDSHIP-BUILDING -- between us.
Communication problems have plagued this relationship for a while, so when these things come up, I start to doubt my on reflections. To me, this just seems like a catch-22. She doesn't want to have casual conversations unless we start FRIENDSHIP BUILDING, but I don't know how that's supposed to happen without casual conversation. "Oh hello, Wendy! Don't ask how I'm doing, I need to tell you about my innermost fears right away." I don't know how I can make this process any faster, and I certainly can't do it if she doesn't want to talk to me. I also don't know how I'm supposed to address her feelings on this. It's not like I'm not hurt and sad about this. I miss her, and I miss talking to her.

I'm just at a loss for this, and I'm not certain that there's anything I can do right now. Any help and perspective would be appreciated.
tablesaw: -- (Default)
These entries that involve Wendy are locked for two reasons. One is that there is at least one person on LJ who is obsessed with her and was able to cryptically deduce that I was seeing her. The other is that she doesn't want to hear about it on my journal (which she reads), and she has asked that I screen any such statements from her friends, many of whom I now read and now read me.

Anyway, I've had That Dog's Retreat from the Sun in my CD player for about a week, ever since [ profile] pbmath mentioned it in a comment. Anyway, it's had a strong hold on me ever since, and I haven't been able to get it out of my stereo or my head. And it's not surprising, since the album's themes play upon my own current issues: infatuation, physical distance, miscommunication, emotional distance, and violins. It's also very upbeat and singable.

So, interested in getting inside my head? Here's some of what I'm thinking about, in lyric form:

Retreat from the Tablesaw )

And that, until further notice is my soundtrack.


tablesaw: -- (Default)
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August 2017

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