Don’t ever date a coworker. I’ve actually learned this lesson already, but somewhere along the line maybe I forgot it. I dunno. That was a long time ago, and I was a different person back then.
But if you do ever date a coworker, prepare for this: the awkwardness. The word has started to get around about our breakup, and I’m constantly having to re-explain it. We work in a big office, and a lot of people know us. And hell, we simply dated for awhile. People thought of us as a couple.
Along with the awkwardness comes a unique, almost Sisyphean, sort of torture: reliving the details every damn time. For me, this has been going on for a month. That’s about how long ago she first told me that she’s leaving the United States to go live indefinitely in Spain. She didn’t ask me to come with her, and she made no effort nor showed any interest in anything long distance. Besides, I know her. I know that this is to be the start of a brand new chapter for her. There is no part written in it for me.
None of which I took well. Especially when we went back and forth several times and she let me believe that she was reconsidering. She didn’t. She’s in Spain right now, actually, laying down the groundwork for living and working arrangements. And it was strange that I had to do it–because it was very clear to me that I was the one being rejected–but it fell to me to break it off.
And now everyone at work is getting word, and now they’re asking, offering condolences, etc.
I’ve made it through the five stages, but it seems to me that they keep coming in pairs. Denial + Bargaining. Depression + Acceptance. Anger + Acceptance. Bargaining + Acceptance. Depression + Depression. Each a unique burst of emotional flavor crystals that makes me hate life in a new way. I’m hanging in there, though.
Anyway, I haven’t decided if I really want to write about it much here, but I felt like getting some of my thoughts down. This page gets stalked regularly by one of her crazy, creepy exes, and, at some point, also I’m sure her. So there’s no point in getting into it too much.
I’ve been pretty weak about being social lately. You could say that I got sucked into that relationship black hole that seems to swallow people in twos… but I think it was something a little more than that. The outpouring of support from friends as I went through the breakup was an important reminder to me, though: don’t get so holed up.
I subscribed to this magazine not long ago called Culture: the word on cheese. I have two subscriptions to two magazines in the whole world, one of them a regular dude sort of magazine, and the other a magazine about cheese (I keep putting off subscriptions to a few music magazines). And anyway, what I wanted to do was start maybe something like a food diary and make cheese something of a true hobby, but I haven’t really gotten around to it. I do love cheese more than most things in life, but truth is I just haven’t had time to cook much this summer. And that means little time to visit my local cheese monger. This is another thing I must rectify.
Current Most Excited About: New Orleans.
The girlfriend and I have been anticipating a New Orleans trip in a few months, probably just after the holidays. She’s never been. I’ve only been once, but I can’t wait to introduce her to it. Just thinking about it… there truly just is something about that city. I think she’s gonna fall in love with it as quickly as I did.
Current Whatev’s: Gears 3.
I had been jumping up and down anticipating Gears of War three for not only months, but years now. And then it came, and then I finished the campaign with a friend just last night, and…. man I’m kinda over it. I think I must feel the same way about Gears that some folks feel about Halo these days. I never got tired of Halo, but by the time this last Gears rolled around I had simply had my fill. The campaign is on rails… which at first felt so innovative. The game played like a cinematic theme park ride. But now it just feels overly scripted to me. The characters were always pretty thin to begin with, and seriously, it was three games of fighting the same damn monsters again and again. (And having said all that, it really truly amazes me that I never tired of Halo).
Current Obsession Bordering on Religious Fervor: George R.R. Martin’s Song of Ice and Fire series.
I never thought I’d get roped into these, but after seeing the HBO serious I just had to have more. There are only two salient facts when it comes to George R.R. Martin: 1) his fantasy epic is pure, unfiltered nerd crack; 2) George R.R. Martin is a motherfucker. This man giveth with one page, and he taketh away with another. I almost screamed, tore at my clothes, and then ran into the streets like a lunatic when I read “the red wedding” chapters. That son of a bitch author is just downright cruel sometimes. But oh how I can’t quit him, how I can’t….
Current Project: a Deadmau5 head.
I’ve dithered like crazy wondering do I call it a Deadmau5 mask, helmet, what? I dunno. A Deadmau5 head thing. The girlfriend and I had the dubious task of choosing between The Black Keys and Deadmau5 at Virgin Freefest. I love The Black Keys to death (as does she–it’s her fricking ringtone), but we were both so glad we opted with the Canadian mouse man DJ. His stage was this gigantic all LED installation that just blew everyone away. One of the things that was so cool about the show was how many folks turned up with their own Deadmau5 heads on. I knew right then and there what I wanted to do for Halloween.
As of now though…. I haven’t lifted a finger. I’m giving myself about a 50/50 chance of following through on this one. A lot of folks have posted their how-to’s online, so there are plenty of guides. But some of them get a little pricey ($200? shit!)… and plus I just had this clear idea of how I wanted to do it. No idea if I actually can though. I guess we’ll see. I promise to post pics.
Current Bummer: Missing out on Wild Flag/Eleanor Friedberger tickets in DC.
Sad face.
Current Best Decision Lately: Getting rid of cable.
This was a group decision, actually, by me and the roommates, but so glad we did it. I had gotten into such a routine. And understandably so, I mean, those shows on HBO and Showtime are so fucking good these days, not to mention all the other channels with their own pet shows. But our bill went up to around $180, and we were like just fuck it. Basic cable isn’t worth it, IMO, and the roommates were happy to cut down a monthly expense.
I haven’t missed it, I’m so happy to say. Been catching a few things on Netflix, but for the most part just changed up some of the routine. God my ass off the couch. I’m sure I’ll have it again someday, but I hope that day is a ways off.
Current Thing I Should Be Doing instead of Writing This: Going to bed.
I’m kinda sitting here at my desk clicking through stuff on the net and realized what a break I’ve taken here. I’m skimming over some of these posts here, and I guess I can see why. Last year was a real bummer, and there was actually some shitty stuff going on earlier this year that I don’t think I wrote too much about. Family tragedies, the house becoming a money pit, some serious bullshit at work… yeah.
But lately actually I haven’t posted because I’ve just been really busy. Good busy. Things are good right now. Maybe I should work on rectifying this….
Right, so I took sort of a break there for a bit. Actually part of the reason for that is incredibly ordinary: my web browser at work was having problems with php. Which means that I couldn’t view, nor update this page until it was fixed… months down the road. I like posting on here on my morning break or my lunch break. When I get home from work, I’m really not on the internet so much.
Anyway.
Things also had not been good at home. The situation with one of the roommates had gone very south. Not gonna post anything about it here (because that would be foolish), but thankfully that is now over. I have a new roommate. She is amazing. We have all been getting along very well.
So now I am finally sleeping well at night and abandoning some of those negative habits I’m so prone to when under stress.
In fact, I’m gearing up to start P90x. Got it from a friend of mine, and it looks really cool. It’s made for people who are already in shape, and while I know it’s going to kick my ass, I’ve been doing a little pre-training for it. For example, I gave the dive bomber push ups a try, and it hurt my left shoulder like fuck. So, I’m gonna work on rounding out a few areas before I jump into the hard stuff. Also: I need to install a chin-up bar.
Specifically, the bar that I want is this one: The Stud Bar. (Just try saying it to yourself: “the Stud Bar, yeah! Y’all wanna come over and get ripped pumpin my Stud Bar?” I think you will agree, by its name alone it is perhaps the single most essential equipment for any home gym.) I’m looking at some steps to convert a corner of my basement into a genuine fitness room, and I want that to be a part of it. It’s gonna be a project taken in increments, though.
I’ve started making notes for this other blog project that I’ve alluded to on occassion. I could end up working really, really long hours all summer, so I don’t know if it will happen now, but I may soon start making some preparations for it. It is possible I could roll it out in the fall, and it’s actually something that could pick up a little bit of steam (and would be more interesting to most people than this journal–one of countless random journals scattered across the internet). I’m looking at posting weekly, and I would try and keep a stable of posts ready in advance. We’ll see how/if it comes together.
So, it’s been a little weird, trying to adjust to a normal schedule. One of the things on my to-do list most days is “write something.” And most days, the most I write is an email to someone or other. Or maybe a tweet. Or maybe nothing.
Going suddenly from 60+ hrs a week to 40 just doesn’t make sense on some primal level. I keep waiting around for someone to tell me what to do. But that, obviously, isn’t going to happen. And it’s compounded by the fact that I actually want my extended hours back. I’d like to pay a few things off and to pay for a few projects around the house. You know, get that stuff out of the way.
But in the meantime I find myself looking for new routines. The house is sparkling. Everything is neat and clean and pristine. I’ve got all the time in the world to keep things clean. And I’ve played several video games all the way through–something I haven’t done in ages. None of it is particularly fulfilling though. You finish a game, and there the title screen is again, asking you to start over. You clean a house, and there you are… standing alone in a quiet, clean, empty house.
I guess I’ve been doing the overtime thing for so long that I just don’t know what to do with myself. But I’m sure I can figure that out. Ten years ago, in my free time, I was a writer and editor. I may have been broke, but I had vision. I lived for my free time. And there was never enough of it.
But things are a little different these days.
I’ve spent some time thinking about last year. About the battles I fought, personal and professional. The plans that I laid and rebuilt, and rebuilt, and rebuilt again. About how I almost–and maybe, truly, in a way did–lose one of my closest family members.
All I want in my life these days is peace. That’s all I get from looking back on last year. On the years that came before it. The hot mess I was in my 20s, that sort of thing.
It’s unsettling in a way. We’re taught–almost no matter what culture you’re from, or what end of that culture–that your life can and should be fulfilling. But peace isn’t fulfilling. There’s nothing satisfying about zen. Satisfaction is the greatest illusion that want ever cast, and peace wants nothing to do with that.
So I’ve been kinda trying to get my head around that. There have been some distractions, for sure. I’ve been having drama with one of the roommates, and while I won’t post a word about that here, I’ll say that I’m working on shoring up a new roommate. Someone not dramatic, preferably. Someone who also wants some peace and quiet.
I keep doing this headtrip with myself. Do you know the word anhedonia? It means basically to stop feeling pleasure from the things that normally please oneself. I guess that might not sound like a big deal, but understand that it’s normally a term used in the diagnosis of clinical depression. Something I had some experience with in my younger days.
I keep asking myself, is this anhedonia? This okay I’ve been riding. Or is this what it’s like to be a normal person with normal problems? Just a regular sorta okay that permeates the regular days.
I’m not used to that, I guess. I’m used to dealing with crazy people. I don’t know how I ever got away from them.
So the hammer finally came down at work, and they cut our extra hours. This happened last week, and I’ve been taking it in a mixed fashion. I mean, we’ve known that this was probably going to happen, but I was hoping to get a few more weeks out of it before it went away. I had a certain goal I was working towards, and I fell short of that goal. Which sucks.
Buuuuut, now all of the sudden I’m working a normal schedule again. I mean yesterday I left work, and the fucking Sun was still out. I was like, “Oh my god! I’ve heard of that thing! It’s called the Sun, and it keeps things warm and stuff!” This is a strange feeling for me.
All of my adult life I’ve worked extra–be it at multiple jobs or overtime at one job. I don’t really know what to do with myself without any obligations to fill. Well, okay I know what I can do with myself. For example, I can become utterly addicted to certain online video games and wall myself into my bedroom like a hermit, living on diet coke, bourbon, and Pizza Boli’s breadsticks with cheese (never to be confused with their cheesesticks!).
But that is not the kind of turn I’ll be looking at now. I’ve actually really, really been staying in a lot lately. In part to save money, in part because I’ve been working seven days a week, and in part–honestly–because I don’t really feel like going out and partying so much these days. But I’ve got a lot of people to catch up with and some things I’ve been meaning to do. Like writing in my journal here.
It’s strange… I’m kind of looking forward to the restraint being placed upon me here. With extra hours at work available, it’s easy to justify all sorts of discretionary expenses. But all of that was suddenly wiped off the table. And it might not come back. My means is clearly defined. This is really weird because for the last several years I’ve always had the option to just work extra if there was something extra that I wanted. Not anymore.
I went out this weekend and bought myself a few things since I knew this would be my last chance at some extra expenditures for a little while. So what did I buy? A big screen tv? A bunch of fancy kitchen appliances? Plane tickets to somewhere exotic?
No, I bought myself a new suit and some dress shoes. I guess that shows you where my head is these days. But if work isn’t going to give me any extra hours, then I might as well invest in getting my ass promoted. Besides, I look like a badass in this suit. Like Mr Silver–the super cool Reservoir Dog who was off doin’ cool stuff the weekend that those other Reservoir Dogs got their asses shot up.
So yeah, I’m feeling that things are good. Things are returning to normal. Or whatever will pass for normal for me these days. Things in my life over the past couple years have been either so busy, so crazy, or so out and out messed up, that I hardly remember what a normal routine was like.
As long as I don’t fall victim to some nefarious video game addiction, then I think things are going to be quite good. And I will get to those good things right as soon as I get done with this video game. It’s the new Assassin’s Creed, and it is motherfucking awesome. Don’t judge.
I managed to catch four straight days of sleeping in this weekend, and I can’t recall the last time I was so excited about something. In fact, when my plans fell through for one evening, I resolved to stay in and score a straight 24 hours of unadulterated resting on my butt. It was beautiful. Amazing. Glorious. Beautiful. I feel like one of those spiffty electric cars, just unplugged, full of juice and ready to roar.
Needless to say, things have been busy. Busy and very, very grown up. For example, I had someone slip and fall on my property, and I spent several days scared to death that I would be sued. Jesus christ, man. Sued? I’m just moseying along, minding my business, and suddenly I’m vulnerable to a law suit? Yeah, grown up shit.
So catching an extended weekend with the roommates out of the house, no pressing responsibilities, no overtime at the office, no nothing: it can be a glorious thing.
It’s funny, as I was joking around with a friend this weekend, relating the above, I mused that my comments seemed like “dad comments.” I’ve got friends around my age who are doing the whole family thing, and yeah: when they get a whole day 100% to themselves, you’d think they just won the lotto or something. And here I find myself feeling the same way.
Creepy, huh?
I guess life lately just has me focused on some very adult sort of things. Getting promoted at work. Not getting sued. Working on my house.
But the weather is warming up, and I have resolved to commit myself to some very non-adult sorts of diversions. Getting ready to plan some weekend adventures. San Diego may be in the cards again this year. Seattle almost definitely.
Oh and did I mention that I made it to New Orleans a few weeks ago? Sorry, been busy. Out of the blue I started taking these professional development classes at work (again: adult things), and they ate up a lot of my time. Thirteen hour work days don’t leave energy for journal posts.
I’ll see if I can dig up some of those New Orleans photos and maybe find something to say about it on here. That town is amazing. I can’t wait to go back.
I’m having a bit of trouble discussing politics these days. I caught myself this weekend blowing up like a jerk on a thread that a friend (super, super awesome friend) had posted in my Google reader. And it gave me pause.
First, sorry again random guy from the internet (even though I don’t think you’ll see this), for accusing you of being a Republican. Them’s fightin words. I was being a dick. And to be fair: accusing the wrong person of being a Democrat can be fightin words as well.
I used to be really, really bad about this. It takes me back to a job I had a little while back. The corner of the office we were in was split pretty evenly between Repubs and Dems, and being the Bush years as it was, we got into some very, ahem, spirited debates. There was this one guy. Let’s call him Dale. We haven’t kept in touch, but I can 110% guarantee you that where ever Dale is, he’s a proud member of the Tea Party. This dude and I used to get into out and out shouting matches. I would like to say that history has proven me right, but I’m sure he would see it differently. We would even argue about how to pronounce the name of the restaurant across the street. That’s how me and this guy were.
But I learned some lessons then about cooling my temper. And he did too. He’s not a bad guy. Just extremely idealistic.
I’ve been good these days, but lately I just find it so hard. The shooting in Arizona has supposedly cooled tempers for the time being, but the cynic in me says that we’ll be back to shouting at each other before too long. I know we will. I just caught myself doing it.
I don’t intend this journal entry to be a treatise on what’s wrong with us or how to fix it. Although I primarily blame televised news. Journalism used to mean something in this country. Now our journalists are called newscasters, and they have lots and lots of plastic surgery. They think that presenting two sides to every issue is being thorough (though there are almost never two sides to any story–and frequently one of the sides presented is woefully over-represented.) Fact checking doesn’t exist. Statistics are as meaningless as ever.
Anyway, I’m rambling.
This is a reminder to me to be on good behavior. To lead by example.
I think what happens to people these days is simple: we can cherry pick our information. Do you identify as a Republican? Then watch Fox News. Do you identify as a Democrat? Then watch MSNBC (I think… I don’t actually watch MSNBC). Do you want to actually be informed about events? Then listen to NPR.
The point is it’s too easy these days to ignore anything you don’t want to hear. Just change the channel. I was thinking about this, and in a strange way a great deal of erstwhile editorial power has been placed in the hands of the consumer. We edit out what we don’t like, and we get our information from sources that confirm our self identity. To be perfectly honest, I see absolutely no solution to this problem. When you get down to it, we’re not debating facts. We’re screaming at each other “my identity is more real than yours.” Which, of course, for each of us individually is true.
The political conversations I have with my centrist friends (especially my center right friends–myself being center left) can be pretty amazing. But along the way so much frustration builds up.
It’s not a resolution exactly, but I have an idea: smile and ask questions. This is a mental note to myself not to be one of those ranting dickheads. Smile. Ask a question. Slow things down and either steer the conversation to something positive, or simply leave it alone.
There’s something I’ve noticed myself doing more and more of as I get older: giving negativity no quarter. I don’t care for people who do nothing but bitch. And I ignore them. But it’s a lot more difficult when my principles urge me to engage negativity.
Do you want to know how I feel about 2010? This is how I feel about 2010.
Yup. It had me in its sights. Somehow… I escaped.
It was in so many ways not a good year. Several things happened this year that I simply will never be able to forget. And yet they are things that I would purge from my mind so readily were only Lacuna Inc for real.
But things have gotten better. I’ve dusted myself. Gotten back on the horse. I’ve talked about a few of those things on my blog here, hinted at a couple, but I really didn’t feel prepared to talk about too much on this journal of mine. And I’m not gonna get into it now. Finally I feel relaxed and steady enough to get back to journaling about regular stuff. I was composing one in my head today about Mike Judge’s Extract. That’s good. I love picking movies apart. That the most mediocre movie I’ve seen in ages got me thinking means things have come back around.
It’s a different time in my life right now. This year has made me feel more gown up than ever. And, man, I’ve had some grown up moments. What’s surprised me is how good it feels to be, you know, a grown man on his own and dealing with life and making things happen. I truly believe that most people in this world don’t grow up. And dealing with serious shit and feeling grown up can only feel like its own reward. There are no riches. Nothing in the way of recognition. It’s the strange wholeness that comes from eating crow and passing it.
My New Years was kind of strange. Though I had a bunch of invites from friends–good friends–to join them here or there, I got fixated upon a place more so than any person. Fells Point. I just had to do it. As it happens, my broomball team was heading to Fells. So with them I went. The evening went fine. One of my teammates and I have been kind of flirting with each other, and I guess, ostensibly, I thought I was exploring a possible connection there. But it was just an okay night. I love those guys, but the main thing we have in common is broomball (and work for a few of us).
The night played itself out. We went from bar to bar. At some point shots were passed around. Everyone was way drunker than I was (I came down with a cold, which spared me from any heavy NYE drinking). The sparks between me and the one teammate weren’t exactly flying. At some point my friends tried to get me to go into Rodo’s, and lemme fuckin’ tell you: that shit wasn’t happening. I wouldn’t venture into Rodo’s for anything short of a free BMW. But I avoided it. I scarfed down a Stuggy’s dog with a friend.
After scattered ventures into Rodo’s and The Ritz (and Stuggy’s), the team reconvened. We got back to the business of drinking and dancing. And this went on for awhile. And right as the night was coming to a close, this girl came in. Friend of one of my friends. And there she was: The Cutest Chick I Have Ever Met. Her smile, her eyes. I just lit up. She seemed to come right to me, introduced herself, and we joked for a bit. And it flowed effortlessly. After frustrating attempts to flirt with my teammate all night, suddenly I’m overwhelmed by this perfect woman. She’d speak, and I’d smile, and I’d smile, and speak, and she’d smile… and on and on.
But it was over kind of quick, and the hour struck 4:00. There was this long lull. Most of my friends were leaving. And actually, I was engaged in a perfect scenario: in only a few moments, the Cutest Girl I’d Met in Forever would be back at my table, with only another couple to distract us. It’s my perfect chance to get to know her. We coulda talked all night. It coulda been magic.
But… just… something.
I left. Cashed out. Not unhappily. Just said goodnight, hope I see you again. And you could make an argument that I’m making good on becoming an old man by splitting the hairs between one ungodly late night hour and another. But there was something else awaiting me: Baltimore harbor.
I used to work in Fells Point. I used to spend nights upon nights with my friends there. Fells Point was a regular part of my life. The harbor was a regular part of my life.
How many times have you walked out onto the pier of Baltimore harbor in the dead middle of the night with nothing but the lapping of the water and the whip of the breeze to accompany your thoughts?
The magic of a solitary moment in the heart of a city cannot be replicated. And especially not on so special a night.
The last time I saw the fireworks over Baltimore Harbor–in person–was in 2000. I was just out of college, and I didn’t know shit about shit. I was in a terrible, terrible relationship with someone who would become my best friend. I was with two other best friends. One of whom has passed away. The other who is experiencing a professional recrudescence not unlike my own (though he’s gonna get paid better: just graduated from a top law school). But it was an utterly different night then than now. I was grasping so hard at everything. I was fighting and fighting to just be me. And to let the world know me. I was a pale shade of the man I was trying so hard to be.
And here I am over a decade later. The middle of the night. Just the harbor and me. The lights, the water, the cool night air. They haven’t changed a bit. But it all seems so different as to be unreal.
I fucking love Baltimore. And I can’t wait for this new year in which I feel more at one with my city than ever. The Cutest Girl I’ve Ever Met (That Night)… she’ll always be around. But New Years Eve brought me a moment of peace in this city, in a year in which peace has been hard to come by.
There is no other possibility for 2011: it’s amazing or bust. Happy new year.
There’s a certain thrill to it. I mean, it’s basically a scavenger hunt. You set out with what you want, and you return with what you get. Each discovery in the hunt brings an individual rush. There’s the excitement of following hunches to sudden, new plans. And then there’s the best part of all: everything’s on sale. The retailers are unloading: please take this garbage, they say. Make it your treasure.
I’ve been pretty deliberately putting things off this year. Spent the last month or two playing grownup and haven’t had the time or energy to sink into it. That’s okay. Everyone has off years when it comes to the holidays.
And when it comes to my family this year has been especially off. I didn’t post about it here in my journal, but I did not spend Thanksgiving with the family this year. Well, basically the family didn’t have a Thanksgiving. It was…. strange. Exactly thirty two times I’ve sat down at the dining room table to enjoy (or pretend/attempt to enjoy) a Thanksgiving feast with my family. After the drama that went down this year… yeah. Didn’t happen.
But there will be no escaping Christmas dinner. In fact, it’s looking increasingly like I might get snowed in up there with everyone. Something I both hope for and dread.
But I will come bearing gifts. I spent all my money on my house this year, so there just isn’t much for gifts. So I decided to bake for people. Going to give everyone a goodie bag of handmade treats. I think it’s a good idea. In fact, I’m a little proud of myself for reining it in for once.
And it is now down to the wire, and I have three days to it. The one nice thing about baking for people for Christmas is that you have to do it all last minute. That has afforded me plenty of leeway in avoiding the holidays up until now. But it looks like I’m gonna spend all of Friday baking. Should be fun.
Other than that I don’t really have much Christmas shopping to do. Going to pick up something special for one or two folks who really came through for me like champs. But for the most part this is looking to be a low key Christmas. I’m curious to see if taking the emphasis off of gifts for once will allow the Christmas spirit to swell and represent itself in other ways. I especially wonder about that considering how things have been with my family. I guess time will tell. Only three more days to go…
