Yo,
So there is this neat little service (that is free at the moment) in which you send in any question, ANY question, and it sends you back two human generated responses. It's so neat, I really like it. Just send an email to q@askforcents.com
It may be apparent to some people, but I can get pretty bitter about this whole "relationship end" thing. So, I decided to send a question in to ol' Q to see what he/she has to say about it.
Q: Why did she leave me?
A1: She found someone else she liked better.
Woah! How the hell could they know that context free? Is my story so boring and overdone that the simple unprovoked question of why she left elicits my exact situation?
A2: The hour was up.
A little less specific, but no less applicable to my life. Lindsey certainly had up and decided that the time had come and she didn't want to be with me anymore, she didn't love me anymore.
Anyway, then I decided to dig deeper. I asked about my future instead of my past.
Q: Should I make the next move, or does she really not want to be in a relationship?
A1: Move on, she is done with you
A2: Try first, if it doesn't work, there's no hard feelings
Uh oh, cognitive dissonance!
Anyway, for you, my readers', pleasure, a more frivolous question:
Q: Who is the prettiest celebrity of them all and where can I find a decent picture of him/her?
A1: Isabella Rossellini
A2: Scarlet Johansson
And, lastly, I leave you with a question -
Q: I have a $300 plane ticket to anywhere, and I have to book by Feb. 27th. Where should I go?
A: ...
Wednesday, February 15, 2006
Tuesday, February 14, 2006
A Painful Step
Hi There,
Well, as I have climbed my Summit of Sadness, I've had to take one painful step after another. I guess that's how a Sadness Summit works.
A few days ago I was talking to a close friend who keeps in touch with Lindsey and she told me that Lindsey is still seeing this guy, which is the whole reason I got angry. It sounds trite and shallow when breezed over in my blog, but believe me, quite the story goes along with it. Anyway, finding this out left me feeling new feelings. I knew that had I ever felt like talking to Lindsey I would only want to ask her about him, which is a shitty thing that's not worth talking about anyway. So, finding this out now put me in a position where I knew the answer and wouldn't have to ask Lindsey were I ever to talk to her.
This set in motion a few events. Firstly, I immediately broke down into tears. It was a good cry, one that was a long time coming. It felt good, letting myself be swept over by so much of my pent up pain and unhappiness. Without my wall of anger, the levies disappeared and I was flooded with salty sadness.
Secondly, I realized I wasn't as angry anymore. My anger was truly turning into plain old sadness, a much more manageable emotion for me. I had accepted that whatever Lindsey did, it was her decision and she obviously made the right decision for her if she is still with the guy. So, what was there to be angry about? The Lindsey I knew and loved ceased to be, and this new Lindsey had no problem tearing my heart to shreds in order to make a decision that ultimately seemed to make her happier.
Thirdly, I got in touch with Lindsey and asked her if she wanted to grab a cup of coffee. It was a bold move, but I feel like I am ready to normalize relations. One other catalyst for this event was that a bunch of my close friends gathered in Toronto this past weekend, and it was so clear that I should have been there and the only reason I wasn't was because of the stupid break-up.
So, last night I met with Lindsey face to face just to chat for the first time in three months.
To be brief, it went better than I ever could have expected. There was no yelling, there was no arguing. There was honestly, there was a bit of crying, and there was just nice talking. It started out as just small talk, but I was making a concious effort not to be emotionally distant like I had been in the previous times I ran into her. Eventually I steered the conversation into talking about US.
I capitalized that to make it seem like a big deal. And it was. We hadn't talked about US for months. She asked why I had been so angry for so long, and I told her exactly how I felt my trust had been broken. I told her that I realized there are no good answers to my questions, and that they are better asked rhetorically. She asked for an example. I gave an example - Why was it suddenly an OK decision to hide her true feelings about this guy even though our relationship was built on and functioned quite well on the basic precept of honesty and openness?
Lindsey said some interesting things. She told me that I was a perfect boyfriend. I did everything right and that's why things were so difficult for her to figure out towards the end. She also told me that things may be obscured by the fact that she has been in a pseudo-relationship with this guy since our break-up, but she wanted to reassure me that she was confident that was not the reason she ended the relatiobship.
I told her that I have no reason to trust her when she says that.
We both cried, but in the end I truly believe that it was a good experience.
Hopefully this painful step will take me quite a bit closer to that summit.
Well, as I have climbed my Summit of Sadness, I've had to take one painful step after another. I guess that's how a Sadness Summit works.
A few days ago I was talking to a close friend who keeps in touch with Lindsey and she told me that Lindsey is still seeing this guy, which is the whole reason I got angry. It sounds trite and shallow when breezed over in my blog, but believe me, quite the story goes along with it. Anyway, finding this out left me feeling new feelings. I knew that had I ever felt like talking to Lindsey I would only want to ask her about him, which is a shitty thing that's not worth talking about anyway. So, finding this out now put me in a position where I knew the answer and wouldn't have to ask Lindsey were I ever to talk to her.
This set in motion a few events. Firstly, I immediately broke down into tears. It was a good cry, one that was a long time coming. It felt good, letting myself be swept over by so much of my pent up pain and unhappiness. Without my wall of anger, the levies disappeared and I was flooded with salty sadness.
Secondly, I realized I wasn't as angry anymore. My anger was truly turning into plain old sadness, a much more manageable emotion for me. I had accepted that whatever Lindsey did, it was her decision and she obviously made the right decision for her if she is still with the guy. So, what was there to be angry about? The Lindsey I knew and loved ceased to be, and this new Lindsey had no problem tearing my heart to shreds in order to make a decision that ultimately seemed to make her happier.
Thirdly, I got in touch with Lindsey and asked her if she wanted to grab a cup of coffee. It was a bold move, but I feel like I am ready to normalize relations. One other catalyst for this event was that a bunch of my close friends gathered in Toronto this past weekend, and it was so clear that I should have been there and the only reason I wasn't was because of the stupid break-up.
So, last night I met with Lindsey face to face just to chat for the first time in three months.
To be brief, it went better than I ever could have expected. There was no yelling, there was no arguing. There was honestly, there was a bit of crying, and there was just nice talking. It started out as just small talk, but I was making a concious effort not to be emotionally distant like I had been in the previous times I ran into her. Eventually I steered the conversation into talking about US.
I capitalized that to make it seem like a big deal. And it was. We hadn't talked about US for months. She asked why I had been so angry for so long, and I told her exactly how I felt my trust had been broken. I told her that I realized there are no good answers to my questions, and that they are better asked rhetorically. She asked for an example. I gave an example - Why was it suddenly an OK decision to hide her true feelings about this guy even though our relationship was built on and functioned quite well on the basic precept of honesty and openness?
Lindsey said some interesting things. She told me that I was a perfect boyfriend. I did everything right and that's why things were so difficult for her to figure out towards the end. She also told me that things may be obscured by the fact that she has been in a pseudo-relationship with this guy since our break-up, but she wanted to reassure me that she was confident that was not the reason she ended the relatiobship.
I told her that I have no reason to trust her when she says that.
We both cried, but in the end I truly believe that it was a good experience.
Hopefully this painful step will take me quite a bit closer to that summit.
Friday, February 03, 2006
The Summit of Sadness
Yo,
Today I was supposed to take a nice drive down to New York City with my good friends Immanuela and Dave. I was pretty psyched because a) Dave is pseudo-famous and I was name dropping like crazy and b) I figured it would be tons of fun with them.
Unfortunately, this morning at 10am (keep in mind we were scheduled to leave at 2:30pm) Dave called telling me this weekend turns out not to be so good for extenuating circumstances.
Well, I certainly wasn't about to drive down to NYC by myself. I ain't no bitch, plus it would suck. So, now I'm planning on bussing down, leaving at 11:45pm and arriving at 7:15am. The trip is actually an hour shorter than a day trip because there is only one rest stop. So, bonus!
Another bonus is that I get to see the Summit! I was worried I was going to miss the Improv Summit this weekend and ALSO Vaganza (the 24 hour show) next month. Now at least I get to see one, and even party a little bit afterwards! Wahoo!
Now back to the regularly scheduled program of me talking about my feelings and bullshit like that.
This past weekend I was in Lake Tahoe with my bros and friends. I was the youngest person there by about five years which was a little bit awkward.
What's interesting is the way my personality changes when I'm around my brothers. They are both kind of loud and obnoxious and they like being funny. In general I am very similar to them. But when I'm around them, I quiet myself. I stay almost totally silent. I don't make jokes, I don't act funny, nothing.
I think I really just want to distance myself from what I see in them. I find my brothers so annoying and childish and repulsive sometimes. I'm really scared that that is what I'm like to other people.
An unexpected side effect to my sitting quietly for long periods of time is that I had a lot of time to think. I ended thinking of Lindsey a lot. I got sad. I think my anger is generally subsiding, and now I get really sad when I think back on what I've lost. I think that's a good thing, because I've been waiting for the unbearable sadness to kick in. Frankly, I should be feeling that after five good years are so viciously ripped away from me.
Yay for sadness.
Today I was supposed to take a nice drive down to New York City with my good friends Immanuela and Dave. I was pretty psyched because a) Dave is pseudo-famous and I was name dropping like crazy and b) I figured it would be tons of fun with them.
Unfortunately, this morning at 10am (keep in mind we were scheduled to leave at 2:30pm) Dave called telling me this weekend turns out not to be so good for extenuating circumstances.
Well, I certainly wasn't about to drive down to NYC by myself. I ain't no bitch, plus it would suck. So, now I'm planning on bussing down, leaving at 11:45pm and arriving at 7:15am. The trip is actually an hour shorter than a day trip because there is only one rest stop. So, bonus!
Another bonus is that I get to see the Summit! I was worried I was going to miss the Improv Summit this weekend and ALSO Vaganza (the 24 hour show) next month. Now at least I get to see one, and even party a little bit afterwards! Wahoo!
Now back to the regularly scheduled program of me talking about my feelings and bullshit like that.
This past weekend I was in Lake Tahoe with my bros and friends. I was the youngest person there by about five years which was a little bit awkward.
What's interesting is the way my personality changes when I'm around my brothers. They are both kind of loud and obnoxious and they like being funny. In general I am very similar to them. But when I'm around them, I quiet myself. I stay almost totally silent. I don't make jokes, I don't act funny, nothing.
I think I really just want to distance myself from what I see in them. I find my brothers so annoying and childish and repulsive sometimes. I'm really scared that that is what I'm like to other people.
An unexpected side effect to my sitting quietly for long periods of time is that I had a lot of time to think. I ended thinking of Lindsey a lot. I got sad. I think my anger is generally subsiding, and now I get really sad when I think back on what I've lost. I think that's a good thing, because I've been waiting for the unbearable sadness to kick in. Frankly, I should be feeling that after five good years are so viciously ripped away from me.
Yay for sadness.
Thursday, January 26, 2006
On the Relevance of Spoons
Hiya,
One thing I really miss about monogamy is sleeping next to someone. It has to be one of my favorite things. Lindsey and I moved in together in May and we got to sleep next to each other every night. It was so wonderful.
I think it represents one of the greatest things about a relationship. It gives me a total sense of security. Deep down, I think I'm still afraid of the dark. Having someone next to me, someone I love and trust, fills me with comfort. It keeps me warm, both physically and emotionally. It is intimate in a totally wonderful way.
I don't like sleeping alone. I like snuggling, I like spooning.
I like being the little spoon.
---
I met up with Lindsey today for the first time in months.
Wow, I can't believe it's really been months! That's so sad.
We had to clear up some money stuff. I wasn't really ready to talk to her about my feelings, seeing as how I'm still pretty upset with her and her actions. I was just there to drop off some money and to pick up some stray things that were still at the house.
The whole time I was there I was so emotionally distant. I felt like I was watching myself talk to her. My voice was so hollow, I didn't laugh or smile, but we did talk a little. We caught up a little. It was really just an exchange of pleasantries.
In truth, it wasn't so pleasant.
One thing I really miss about monogamy is sleeping next to someone. It has to be one of my favorite things. Lindsey and I moved in together in May and we got to sleep next to each other every night. It was so wonderful.
I think it represents one of the greatest things about a relationship. It gives me a total sense of security. Deep down, I think I'm still afraid of the dark. Having someone next to me, someone I love and trust, fills me with comfort. It keeps me warm, both physically and emotionally. It is intimate in a totally wonderful way.
I don't like sleeping alone. I like snuggling, I like spooning.
I like being the little spoon.
---
I met up with Lindsey today for the first time in months.
Wow, I can't believe it's really been months! That's so sad.
We had to clear up some money stuff. I wasn't really ready to talk to her about my feelings, seeing as how I'm still pretty upset with her and her actions. I was just there to drop off some money and to pick up some stray things that were still at the house.
The whole time I was there I was so emotionally distant. I felt like I was watching myself talk to her. My voice was so hollow, I didn't laugh or smile, but we did talk a little. We caught up a little. It was really just an exchange of pleasantries.
In truth, it wasn't so pleasant.
Wednesday, January 18, 2006
Someone to Keep Me Warm
Hi All,
Ever since Workshop, Lindsey has been a super knitter. One of her very first projects ever was a scarf for me. She asked me what colors I'd like, I chose grey and black. I'm all about solids. It was a masterful creation. It changed widths continuously as Lindsey desperately tried to keep an even stitch count. In the end, one side wass two to three times as wide as the other. I have kept it and worn it ever since a) because it's warm, and b) to remind Lindsey that she wasn't always a master.
Lindsey also made me a great little brown and green tuque. It was perfect for mildly chilly days and it was hip looking. It was also from Lindsey's early days of knitting, but I always considered it one of her best creations and I wore it all the time. I called it "The Spring Tuque."
Yesterday was the first day I wore a scarf and tuque not made by Lindsey. It wasn't really on purpose. In Israel I received an amazing Habo tuque which I wear with pride now, and I found a slick black Nautica fleece scarf in my room. I just changed over to those. But to me it has meaning beyond that. I always wore Lindsey's knitted wear with pride, even if it wasn't the best quality. Now I don't really have that pride. I don't care. I'd rather just wear what's warmest. I guess it's just another step in distancing myself from her and everything she used to mean to me.
On a completely different note, in the past two days two people on completely seperate occasions encouraged me to get with Lauren because "she's hot." I wish I could just hand people a nice little letter that explained what I've been through in the past little while, what my previous relationship was like, and how I am now totally lost and scared when dealing with women.
That would really simplify things.
Ever since Workshop, Lindsey has been a super knitter. One of her very first projects ever was a scarf for me. She asked me what colors I'd like, I chose grey and black. I'm all about solids. It was a masterful creation. It changed widths continuously as Lindsey desperately tried to keep an even stitch count. In the end, one side wass two to three times as wide as the other. I have kept it and worn it ever since a) because it's warm, and b) to remind Lindsey that she wasn't always a master.
Lindsey also made me a great little brown and green tuque. It was perfect for mildly chilly days and it was hip looking. It was also from Lindsey's early days of knitting, but I always considered it one of her best creations and I wore it all the time. I called it "The Spring Tuque."
Yesterday was the first day I wore a scarf and tuque not made by Lindsey. It wasn't really on purpose. In Israel I received an amazing Habo tuque which I wear with pride now, and I found a slick black Nautica fleece scarf in my room. I just changed over to those. But to me it has meaning beyond that. I always wore Lindsey's knitted wear with pride, even if it wasn't the best quality. Now I don't really have that pride. I don't care. I'd rather just wear what's warmest. I guess it's just another step in distancing myself from her and everything she used to mean to me.
On a completely different note, in the past two days two people on completely seperate occasions encouraged me to get with Lauren because "she's hot." I wish I could just hand people a nice little letter that explained what I've been through in the past little while, what my previous relationship was like, and how I am now totally lost and scared when dealing with women.
That would really simplify things.
Monday, January 16, 2006
Questions
Hello,
Surprise! I posted!
So in the past couple days I've been asked by multiple people if I've moved on from the break up. In fact, to quote one person, "Are you interested in other girls yet, or are you still heartbroken?" My reply: "I'm still heartbroken, thanks for asking."
Its weird, its been a little less than three months. Should I be moving on? Should I be with other girls? Should I be...dating?! I don't know.
I do hang out with Lauren a lot. I enjoy being with her. I go to movies with her. I helped her build her bed. Is that dating? I don't think so. I just really enjoy hanging out with her. When does it turn into dating though? Is it just a matter of intentionality? Or is that too post-modern of me? Stupid postmodernism.
--Focus shift--
I sometimes look at Lindsey's name hanging in my IM list and consider clicking it. It would be so nice to talk to her. I imagine it in my head being so relieving and feeling so good. But then I remember that the Lindsey I want to talk to isn't behind that IM name. Its someone else. I would just be looking for something that isn't there. And then I get sad when I look at it.
--Focus shift--
I've been making a lot of jokes about my breakup. I guess it should seem obvious that I am using humor to deal with my sadness considering my lifestyle and personality. But I am constantly surprised by what comes out of my mouth.
Example: I was at breakfast talking about football and I commented on how Seattle beating Washington was like a symbol of Lindsey breaking my heart, because she is from Seattle and I Washington. It wasn't a particularly good joke, but I didn't make any promises here.
Although its a way with dealing with it, it still makes me sad. It hurts to make those jokes. So, why do I even make the jokes?
And it can be awkward. Its kind of like Holocaust jokes.
Oh jeez. Did I just compare my breakup with Lindsey to the Holocaust?
This is awkward.
Surprise! I posted!
So in the past couple days I've been asked by multiple people if I've moved on from the break up. In fact, to quote one person, "Are you interested in other girls yet, or are you still heartbroken?" My reply: "I'm still heartbroken, thanks for asking."
Its weird, its been a little less than three months. Should I be moving on? Should I be with other girls? Should I be...dating?! I don't know.
I do hang out with Lauren a lot. I enjoy being with her. I go to movies with her. I helped her build her bed. Is that dating? I don't think so. I just really enjoy hanging out with her. When does it turn into dating though? Is it just a matter of intentionality? Or is that too post-modern of me? Stupid postmodernism.
--Focus shift--
I sometimes look at Lindsey's name hanging in my IM list and consider clicking it. It would be so nice to talk to her. I imagine it in my head being so relieving and feeling so good. But then I remember that the Lindsey I want to talk to isn't behind that IM name. Its someone else. I would just be looking for something that isn't there. And then I get sad when I look at it.
--Focus shift--
I've been making a lot of jokes about my breakup. I guess it should seem obvious that I am using humor to deal with my sadness considering my lifestyle and personality. But I am constantly surprised by what comes out of my mouth.
Example: I was at breakfast talking about football and I commented on how Seattle beating Washington was like a symbol of Lindsey breaking my heart, because she is from Seattle and I Washington. It wasn't a particularly good joke, but I didn't make any promises here.
Although its a way with dealing with it, it still makes me sad. It hurts to make those jokes. So, why do I even make the jokes?
And it can be awkward. Its kind of like Holocaust jokes.
Oh jeez. Did I just compare my breakup with Lindsey to the Holocaust?
This is awkward.
Wednesday, January 11, 2006
Chronicles and Then Some
Hiya,
Today is a great day to post because my general feelings I want to post about coincide perfectly with Part II of the Chronicles I started a while back. So, lets start with the Chronicles:
The Chronicles Part II: Workshop Begins
When I flew into Israel I didn't know that many people on the program. There were dozens of new faces for me, whereas other people seemed to know each other already. That didn't matter all that much because the atmosphere at the beginning of a year long program is definitely one which helps you meet people. So I milled about making friends the first few days on a lovely little villa type place called Givat Shemesh.
I quickly met and got along with Lindsey. One of my strongest memories of those first few days was me and Lindsey dancing together in the swimming pool. I would hold her up and sing to her and spin her around. It was all friendly, I had no notions of sex or whatnot. In fact, that was one of the great things about the start of our relationship, there was little to no sexual tension to screw up our emotional connection. I had had a weird experience in the first few days of Workshop where a girl asked me if she could be the one to take my virginity. I was caught totally off guard by it, and my sexual drive kind of hid itself away in response.
After Givat Shemesh we moved to a little known Kibbutz in the Galil called Chanaton. We were having an intense seminar to prepare us for our upcoming trip to Poland. Our group really started bonding with each other. We had rooftop sing-alongs, people were making out left and right, it was great.
Lindsey and I had our first amazing connection here. We were lying down in a room together listening to music, one bud in each ear. I was playing my CDs for her, she had never really listened to the music I listened to. We were really enjoying it, but it was growing late and she had no intention of sleeping in my bed. She tried to pull away, but I said she had to stay for the rest of the song, it was only courtesy. She agreed and we layed together to the sweet tunes of Led Zeppelin's "Fool in the Rain". From that day forth it was our song, and it was a really meaningful moment for our relationship.
Our relationship continued to blossom on Chanaton, we listened to music, we talked, we had a lazy afternoon lap together on the grass all by ourselves. After Chanaton we had a week in Poland which was intense. Lindsey and I sat with each other on the bus rides and talked and had fun. After Poland we had four days of hiking through the north of Israel. We slept next to each other under the stars every night and talked. At times things became pretty deep and intense, conversation even evoked tears at times, but it was just a measure of how close we were. Still by this time there was no sexual tension, it was all sharing emotions and connecting mentally. It was great.
Things entered a whole new phase, though, once we arrived on Kibbutz. Tune in for the next Chronicles chapter: Life on Kibbutz!
So, thats the background. Here is the foreground.
I was just in Israel on a great trip for the past ten days. We travelled and challenged our thoughts on the present state and future of the movement. It was so fun, and the 20-ish people with me were all awesome.
One of the places we stayed at on the trip was Kibbutz Chanaton. I was overwhelmed with memories. I was not expecting to have such a strong reaction to the Kibbutz, but everywhere I turned I saw another spot of immense emotional association. I even walked into the very room where Lindsey had our music listening moment.
I couldn't hold it in at all. I burst into tears numerous times there. It reminded me so strongly of when things were perfect with Lindsey and me. I hed totally eliminated that from my mind since the break-up and especially so since things got really bad between us.
What was so painful is that I truly believe that the Lindsey of my memories is gone forever. The Lindsey that exists now is someone different, someone who doesn't want to be with me, someone who could so easily break my heart.
Suffice to say that I finally got that crying done that I've been waiting for for so long. And yes, Jamie played a very large role in that. She was on the trip with me and she was there for me when I was crying. I appreciate her so much, and don't tell Rufus, but I think that I may be spending a LOT of time with her in the next two years. So thats good.
Anyway, I'm back in Montreal now. I have to get my life in order, get a job, graduate, etc. Call me if you want to hang out, or if you just want to chat, or whatever.
And hopefully waitingforgbrowdy.blogspot.com can quit their bitching now.
Today is a great day to post because my general feelings I want to post about coincide perfectly with Part II of the Chronicles I started a while back. So, lets start with the Chronicles:
The Chronicles Part II: Workshop Begins
When I flew into Israel I didn't know that many people on the program. There were dozens of new faces for me, whereas other people seemed to know each other already. That didn't matter all that much because the atmosphere at the beginning of a year long program is definitely one which helps you meet people. So I milled about making friends the first few days on a lovely little villa type place called Givat Shemesh.
I quickly met and got along with Lindsey. One of my strongest memories of those first few days was me and Lindsey dancing together in the swimming pool. I would hold her up and sing to her and spin her around. It was all friendly, I had no notions of sex or whatnot. In fact, that was one of the great things about the start of our relationship, there was little to no sexual tension to screw up our emotional connection. I had had a weird experience in the first few days of Workshop where a girl asked me if she could be the one to take my virginity. I was caught totally off guard by it, and my sexual drive kind of hid itself away in response.
After Givat Shemesh we moved to a little known Kibbutz in the Galil called Chanaton. We were having an intense seminar to prepare us for our upcoming trip to Poland. Our group really started bonding with each other. We had rooftop sing-alongs, people were making out left and right, it was great.
Lindsey and I had our first amazing connection here. We were lying down in a room together listening to music, one bud in each ear. I was playing my CDs for her, she had never really listened to the music I listened to. We were really enjoying it, but it was growing late and she had no intention of sleeping in my bed. She tried to pull away, but I said she had to stay for the rest of the song, it was only courtesy. She agreed and we layed together to the sweet tunes of Led Zeppelin's "Fool in the Rain". From that day forth it was our song, and it was a really meaningful moment for our relationship.
Our relationship continued to blossom on Chanaton, we listened to music, we talked, we had a lazy afternoon lap together on the grass all by ourselves. After Chanaton we had a week in Poland which was intense. Lindsey and I sat with each other on the bus rides and talked and had fun. After Poland we had four days of hiking through the north of Israel. We slept next to each other under the stars every night and talked. At times things became pretty deep and intense, conversation even evoked tears at times, but it was just a measure of how close we were. Still by this time there was no sexual tension, it was all sharing emotions and connecting mentally. It was great.
Things entered a whole new phase, though, once we arrived on Kibbutz. Tune in for the next Chronicles chapter: Life on Kibbutz!
So, thats the background. Here is the foreground.
I was just in Israel on a great trip for the past ten days. We travelled and challenged our thoughts on the present state and future of the movement. It was so fun, and the 20-ish people with me were all awesome.
One of the places we stayed at on the trip was Kibbutz Chanaton. I was overwhelmed with memories. I was not expecting to have such a strong reaction to the Kibbutz, but everywhere I turned I saw another spot of immense emotional association. I even walked into the very room where Lindsey had our music listening moment.
I couldn't hold it in at all. I burst into tears numerous times there. It reminded me so strongly of when things were perfect with Lindsey and me. I hed totally eliminated that from my mind since the break-up and especially so since things got really bad between us.
What was so painful is that I truly believe that the Lindsey of my memories is gone forever. The Lindsey that exists now is someone different, someone who doesn't want to be with me, someone who could so easily break my heart.
Suffice to say that I finally got that crying done that I've been waiting for for so long. And yes, Jamie played a very large role in that. She was on the trip with me and she was there for me when I was crying. I appreciate her so much, and don't tell Rufus, but I think that I may be spending a LOT of time with her in the next two years. So thats good.
Anyway, I'm back in Montreal now. I have to get my life in order, get a job, graduate, etc. Call me if you want to hang out, or if you just want to chat, or whatever.
And hopefully waitingforgbrowdy.blogspot.com can quit their bitching now.
Tuesday, December 13, 2005
Music To My Ears
Hi All,
First, let me publically apologize to Zach. He has been pushing me to post for much too long and I have shirked that responsibility. Sorry, Zach. I still love you.
So, as of today, about 47 days after the seperation, I still have yet to have a serious good cry. Its getting painful, and frankly I want to cry in sympathy for myself. I am not sure why this is happening, but I know that I have not felt totally comfortable anywhere yet. I am soon going to be with my close friend Jamie for 2 straight weeks, and hopefully I will bathe her in salty delicious tears of pain.
But, if there is one thing that can get me close to tears, it's music. Music has always played a powerful role in my life. I love music and I think music loves me. Hopefully, one day music will NOT come home and end it with me out of nowhere.
Bitterness aside, certain songs really hit me hard...
[Editors Note: This is a long list. You have been forewarned!]
The number one song so far that really hurts to listen to is Carole King, "It's Too Late".
The killer chorus lyrics: Something inside has died and I can't hide and I just can't fake it
When Carole first sang this to me about 7 days after the end of my love, I was shocked to hear what Lindsey was unable to tell me at that point. It was so crystal clear and well sung by Carole, and I appreciated her straightforward attitude about it. No dancing around the truth of the matter, looking for the perfect words. All it needs is a little alliteration and a catchy tune. I love you Carole.
Interesting side story: I did a monologue on music for Uno, my long form improv show. I didn't want to talk about breaking up on stage, so I just briefly mentioned that music affects me strongly, and particularly Carole King. At intermission, Immanuela, a fellow improviser, approached me and told me she knew exactly what I was talking about with Carole King...It's Too Late. I was shocked by her spot on call. She had also gone through a big bad breakup and felt the sharp pain of truth in Carole's words. We then sang together in what I can only assume was a Sex & The City-esque manner, although truthfully I've never seen even one episode. I like Immanuela.
The next on my list is every song on "Sea Change" by Beck. This is the ultimate break-up album. I was deeply moved by it even when my relationship seemed strong and happy. After I lost the Lindsey I thought I had, I refused to listen to the album, knowing it would crush me. I broke my Beck embargo about 2 weeks later. It is so powerful, I can feel Beck's pain.
The most moving song: "Guess I'm Doing Fine".
The killer chorus lyrics: It's only lies that I'm living, it's only tears that I'm crying, it's only you that I'm losing, guess I'm doing fine.
How else can you respond to the question "How are you doing?" How else can you describe the dull and permanently residing pain in your heart and mind? Beck is a genius.
Another album that's tough to listen to is Joni Mitchell's "Blue". This is another monster breakup album. Every song is basically about sadness and the album is called Blue for Christ's sake! Its not the saddest, but just so you know, my favorite line on the album is from "Case of You":
Just before our love got lost you said/ I am as constant as a northern star/ And I said, constant in the darkness/ Where’s that at?/ If you want me I’ll be in the bar
The sarcasm and wit is priceless, all topped off by the qualifier "before our love got lost". Beautiful.
One cheesy one that I have to admit is John Mayer, "Comfortable". I randomly have this song in my playlist, and it ever so cheesily describes my loss.
The killer chorus lyrics: Our love was comfortable and so broken in.
Simple, but ringing with truth. Also the simplistic acoustics of the song make it even sweeter and harder to hear.
A great song is "I'll Never Fall in Love Again", by Burt Bacharach and Elvis Costello. You'll remember this from the 2nd Austin Powers movie. Its sweet melody and smooth singing hide the extremely bitter and even funny lyrics of the song. It sounds like a love song, but not when you here a line like this:
What do you get when you kiss a girl/ You get enough germs to catch pneumonia/ After you do, she'll never phone you
Pretty sneaky, Burt and Elvis. The whole song is about the suckiness of love. A real sucker punch for all the romantics out there.
Then there is the laundry list of songs that hold a special meaning that are going to forever remind me of different things in our relationship:
Led Zeppelin, "Fool in the Rain": This was our song. As simple as that. We listened to this song together one night in Israel. She wanted to go to bed, but I asked her to stay for one more song, and that was it. So anytime from then on I wanted her to be with me a little longer, I'd whip this little baby out.
A funny addition to the story is that I originally thought the chorus lyrics were "I love the love that I found." I thought it was such a good representation of how I felt. Only a few months later did I realize it was "Light of the love that I found." But it didn't matter, the song had taken its course in our history already with the wrong but special-er lyrics.
Aaron Neville, "Crazy Love": This was the song that was gently playing in the background the first time we made love. No joke, how perfect is that?
Hedwig and the Angry Inch, "The Origin of Love": This is our movie. This song is beautiful and also really fuckin rockin. It tells a Greek tale of how Love was created. It will forever remind me of Lindsey.
Colin Hay, "Beautiful World": This song was played on the season finale of Scrubs season 1. That is our show we watch together. It is a beautiful song.
The killer lyrics: My my my it’s a beautiful world/ I like sleeping with [Lindsey]/ She is one sexy girl full of mystery/ She says she doesn’t love me but she likes my company/ For now that’s good enough for me.
Those lyrics were the best because the original name was Marie. I changed it and it fit perfect because originally Lindsey and I just told people that we "enjoyed each other's company" in order to avoid being labelled a couple. It was sneaky, but it worked.
To end this EXTREMELY long list, I'll give my one song of an uplifting nature. It's Coldplay, "Everything's Not Lost". The final climax of the song, where he sings "Everything's Not Lost" fills me with hope and happiness. I really like the singer's voice and the power of his simple piano played really hard.
But then again, how could anything be lost when you are married to a beautiful woman like Gwyneth Paltrow? It's kind of cheating, and makes me bitter all over again...
First, let me publically apologize to Zach. He has been pushing me to post for much too long and I have shirked that responsibility. Sorry, Zach. I still love you.
So, as of today, about 47 days after the seperation, I still have yet to have a serious good cry. Its getting painful, and frankly I want to cry in sympathy for myself. I am not sure why this is happening, but I know that I have not felt totally comfortable anywhere yet. I am soon going to be with my close friend Jamie for 2 straight weeks, and hopefully I will bathe her in salty delicious tears of pain.
But, if there is one thing that can get me close to tears, it's music. Music has always played a powerful role in my life. I love music and I think music loves me. Hopefully, one day music will NOT come home and end it with me out of nowhere.
Bitterness aside, certain songs really hit me hard...
[Editors Note: This is a long list. You have been forewarned!]
The number one song so far that really hurts to listen to is Carole King, "It's Too Late".
The killer chorus lyrics: Something inside has died and I can't hide and I just can't fake it
When Carole first sang this to me about 7 days after the end of my love, I was shocked to hear what Lindsey was unable to tell me at that point. It was so crystal clear and well sung by Carole, and I appreciated her straightforward attitude about it. No dancing around the truth of the matter, looking for the perfect words. All it needs is a little alliteration and a catchy tune. I love you Carole.
Interesting side story: I did a monologue on music for Uno, my long form improv show. I didn't want to talk about breaking up on stage, so I just briefly mentioned that music affects me strongly, and particularly Carole King. At intermission, Immanuela, a fellow improviser, approached me and told me she knew exactly what I was talking about with Carole King...It's Too Late. I was shocked by her spot on call. She had also gone through a big bad breakup and felt the sharp pain of truth in Carole's words. We then sang together in what I can only assume was a Sex & The City-esque manner, although truthfully I've never seen even one episode. I like Immanuela.
The next on my list is every song on "Sea Change" by Beck. This is the ultimate break-up album. I was deeply moved by it even when my relationship seemed strong and happy. After I lost the Lindsey I thought I had, I refused to listen to the album, knowing it would crush me. I broke my Beck embargo about 2 weeks later. It is so powerful, I can feel Beck's pain.
The most moving song: "Guess I'm Doing Fine".
The killer chorus lyrics: It's only lies that I'm living, it's only tears that I'm crying, it's only you that I'm losing, guess I'm doing fine.
How else can you respond to the question "How are you doing?" How else can you describe the dull and permanently residing pain in your heart and mind? Beck is a genius.
Another album that's tough to listen to is Joni Mitchell's "Blue". This is another monster breakup album. Every song is basically about sadness and the album is called Blue for Christ's sake! Its not the saddest, but just so you know, my favorite line on the album is from "Case of You":
Just before our love got lost you said/ I am as constant as a northern star/ And I said, constant in the darkness/ Where’s that at?/ If you want me I’ll be in the bar
The sarcasm and wit is priceless, all topped off by the qualifier "before our love got lost". Beautiful.
One cheesy one that I have to admit is John Mayer, "Comfortable". I randomly have this song in my playlist, and it ever so cheesily describes my loss.
The killer chorus lyrics: Our love was comfortable and so broken in.
Simple, but ringing with truth. Also the simplistic acoustics of the song make it even sweeter and harder to hear.
A great song is "I'll Never Fall in Love Again", by Burt Bacharach and Elvis Costello. You'll remember this from the 2nd Austin Powers movie. Its sweet melody and smooth singing hide the extremely bitter and even funny lyrics of the song. It sounds like a love song, but not when you here a line like this:
What do you get when you kiss a girl/ You get enough germs to catch pneumonia/ After you do, she'll never phone you
Pretty sneaky, Burt and Elvis. The whole song is about the suckiness of love. A real sucker punch for all the romantics out there.
Then there is the laundry list of songs that hold a special meaning that are going to forever remind me of different things in our relationship:
Led Zeppelin, "Fool in the Rain": This was our song. As simple as that. We listened to this song together one night in Israel. She wanted to go to bed, but I asked her to stay for one more song, and that was it. So anytime from then on I wanted her to be with me a little longer, I'd whip this little baby out.
A funny addition to the story is that I originally thought the chorus lyrics were "I love the love that I found." I thought it was such a good representation of how I felt. Only a few months later did I realize it was "Light of the love that I found." But it didn't matter, the song had taken its course in our history already with the wrong but special-er lyrics.
Aaron Neville, "Crazy Love": This was the song that was gently playing in the background the first time we made love. No joke, how perfect is that?
Hedwig and the Angry Inch, "The Origin of Love": This is our movie. This song is beautiful and also really fuckin rockin. It tells a Greek tale of how Love was created. It will forever remind me of Lindsey.
Colin Hay, "Beautiful World": This song was played on the season finale of Scrubs season 1. That is our show we watch together. It is a beautiful song.
The killer lyrics: My my my it’s a beautiful world/ I like sleeping with [Lindsey]/ She is one sexy girl full of mystery/ She says she doesn’t love me but she likes my company/ For now that’s good enough for me.
Those lyrics were the best because the original name was Marie. I changed it and it fit perfect because originally Lindsey and I just told people that we "enjoyed each other's company" in order to avoid being labelled a couple. It was sneaky, but it worked.
To end this EXTREMELY long list, I'll give my one song of an uplifting nature. It's Coldplay, "Everything's Not Lost". The final climax of the song, where he sings "Everything's Not Lost" fills me with hope and happiness. I really like the singer's voice and the power of his simple piano played really hard.
But then again, how could anything be lost when you are married to a beautiful woman like Gwyneth Paltrow? It's kind of cheating, and makes me bitter all over again...
Wednesday, November 16, 2005
Where Are They Now?
Hi,
The chronicles will not be updated today, sorry. Instead, I'm just gonna write...
Well, I got a new apartment. I moved out within a week and set up shop about 10 minutes down the road on Avenue De L'Esplanade. I like it here and my new roommate is nice. I don't see her very much, but when we do interact it is always positive. My room is spacious enough to offer me privacy and a sense of home.
Its been about 3 weeks since Lindsey told me she didn't want to be in our relationship anymore. Since then, we have seen each other a bit. We still have things to talk about, obviously. Actually, I was talking to her a week or so ago and she was able to articulate that she is not in love with me anymore. I was actually kind of glad to know, because I am still very much in the dark about whatever happened. I just know Lindsey came home one night and didn't want me anymore, and I had to accept it.
We aren't angry at one another which is lucky, I believe. If I had to deal with anger on top of everything else, things would get ugly. Any time I do see her though, I turn myself off emotionally. I try not to smile, cry, use expressive tones in my voice, or be excited about anything. I am making it a point to distance myself from her so that I can jolt my brain and heart into understanding that they are all alone, and this Lindsey character is not the one I thought I knew.
Frankly, I don't think my heart and brain have figured it out yet. But the gears are a-turning and I think I'm going to hit a breakthrough soon. You see, one piece of advice I got very soon after the whole thing was that I should keep myself busy so my mind doesn't wander too much. I took this advice and I have kept myself VERY busy. I am out of the house most of every day, I have travelled, I do improv out the wazoo. Unfortunately, I think I've missed something.
The other part of dealing with this whole thing is actually thinking about it. I haven't done that much. When I'm in public, I don't want to depress myself or cry, so I supress my thoughts and emotions. When I'm by myself, I somehow cannot cry, so my emotions are supressed again. Essentially, I am always supressing my emotions. I have trained myself over the past 5 years to only cry in front of Lindsey and now I don't have that anymore. It has also come to my attention that I can no longer even cry in front of myself! So this leaves me with an overwhelming number of tears hiding behind a dam that can only hold so much pressure.
I did cry a little bit a couple nights ago. It came as a suprise, lasted about 30 seconds and disappeared into the ether. I don't know how it came, so I can't repeat the process. Meanwhile, my body is feeling the pressure of such a major emotional turmoil being shoved away into darkness. I am getting headaches a lot, and I have started biting my nails a lot. I never had this disgusting habit before, but now its full force.
All I really want right now is to curl into a ball in someone's lap and cry a lot. I want to cry and ask ridiculous questions like, "Why me?" and, "Why doesn't she love me anymore?" and, "Why does it hurt so bad?". I want to do that and have someone gently comfort me, they don't even have to answer, because frankly there are no answers to the questions. But I don't have that.
So thats where I am now, 3 weeks after the person I thought I loved ceased to exist.
The chronicles will not be updated today, sorry. Instead, I'm just gonna write...
Well, I got a new apartment. I moved out within a week and set up shop about 10 minutes down the road on Avenue De L'Esplanade. I like it here and my new roommate is nice. I don't see her very much, but when we do interact it is always positive. My room is spacious enough to offer me privacy and a sense of home.
Its been about 3 weeks since Lindsey told me she didn't want to be in our relationship anymore. Since then, we have seen each other a bit. We still have things to talk about, obviously. Actually, I was talking to her a week or so ago and she was able to articulate that she is not in love with me anymore. I was actually kind of glad to know, because I am still very much in the dark about whatever happened. I just know Lindsey came home one night and didn't want me anymore, and I had to accept it.
We aren't angry at one another which is lucky, I believe. If I had to deal with anger on top of everything else, things would get ugly. Any time I do see her though, I turn myself off emotionally. I try not to smile, cry, use expressive tones in my voice, or be excited about anything. I am making it a point to distance myself from her so that I can jolt my brain and heart into understanding that they are all alone, and this Lindsey character is not the one I thought I knew.
Frankly, I don't think my heart and brain have figured it out yet. But the gears are a-turning and I think I'm going to hit a breakthrough soon. You see, one piece of advice I got very soon after the whole thing was that I should keep myself busy so my mind doesn't wander too much. I took this advice and I have kept myself VERY busy. I am out of the house most of every day, I have travelled, I do improv out the wazoo. Unfortunately, I think I've missed something.
The other part of dealing with this whole thing is actually thinking about it. I haven't done that much. When I'm in public, I don't want to depress myself or cry, so I supress my thoughts and emotions. When I'm by myself, I somehow cannot cry, so my emotions are supressed again. Essentially, I am always supressing my emotions. I have trained myself over the past 5 years to only cry in front of Lindsey and now I don't have that anymore. It has also come to my attention that I can no longer even cry in front of myself! So this leaves me with an overwhelming number of tears hiding behind a dam that can only hold so much pressure.
I did cry a little bit a couple nights ago. It came as a suprise, lasted about 30 seconds and disappeared into the ether. I don't know how it came, so I can't repeat the process. Meanwhile, my body is feeling the pressure of such a major emotional turmoil being shoved away into darkness. I am getting headaches a lot, and I have started biting my nails a lot. I never had this disgusting habit before, but now its full force.
All I really want right now is to curl into a ball in someone's lap and cry a lot. I want to cry and ask ridiculous questions like, "Why me?" and, "Why doesn't she love me anymore?" and, "Why does it hurt so bad?". I want to do that and have someone gently comfort me, they don't even have to answer, because frankly there are no answers to the questions. But I don't have that.
So thats where I am now, 3 weeks after the person I thought I loved ceased to exist.
Friday, October 28, 2005
The Chronicles
Hey,
I decided it might be fun, or useful, or interesting, or just a good use of time to chronicle my entire relationship with Lindsey. I know that not many of my blog readers know much about how things are or were, so this can also be useful for the general public.
Today on the chronicles: The Prelude to a Connection
The first time I ever met Lindsey Ross was the summer of 1999. I was at a camp called Moshava in the boonies of Maryland. Every summer, the older campers (I was a junior counselor that summer) have a get-together weekend with the older campers of the nearby sister camp in Pennsylvania. This summer, the junior counselors all got together at Moshava while the rest of the camp was on a hiking trip for three days. It was an awesome time...just us crazy 16 year olds with a whole camp to ourselves.
Lindsey was at that sister camp, Galil, that year. Although she is originally from Seattle and normally went to a different sister camp in BC, this summer she decided to stir it up a bit and went across the country for camp.
I didn't really know anyone from Galil, so it was a huge influx of new people to meet. We had a really fun few days, talking about interesting things and whatnot. Part of the whatnot was one night when we were hanging out in our lounge together. I was chilling on a couch with a few people, who happened to be girls. I decided to secretly play a game to see how many girls I could get to be with me on the couch at once. Only one other person even knew about this ridiculous game and took a picture of all of us each time I added a girl. One of the original two girls who was with me on the couch, and was there every time for every picture, was a quiet girl named Lindsey. I hadn't really talked to her, but that didn't stop me from sexually posing next to her in every picture. I was even licking her in a couple. Whatever, it was camp...
That was the extent of my interactions with Lindsey that first time. I didn't really hit it off with her then. In fact, I ended up hooking up with a completely different girl, who has a role to play later in the story. Jamie, if you are reading, I miss you.
The second time I ever met Lindsey was a few months later. It was October of 1999 and I was at a seminar for my youth movement in Toronto. Lindsey was also at this seminar. I don't think I even remembered her. But at this seminar we really connected. We hung out a lot and talked a lot.
The most special moment of this chance encounter in Toronto was when we walked together to a gas station down the street and shared pistachios for the very first time. The sharing of pistachios was forever etched in our relationship despite the fact that we weren't "together" or "in a relationship" at all that weekend.
That was about all that happened there, although I did insist on sitting next to her on the drive back to the airport...I was such a dork. I was a bit taken by her though. After the weekend, I got a hold of my good friend Jamie, of three paragraphs ago fame, and asked for Lindsey's IM name.
Ristretto6, a name I grew to know so well. We chatted a couple times, quite awkwardly. We didn't have much, but we knew each other, and at least liked each other. That was the extent of our shared time together before the mammoth life changing event I call WORKSHOP happened.
End Chapter 1.
I decided it might be fun, or useful, or interesting, or just a good use of time to chronicle my entire relationship with Lindsey. I know that not many of my blog readers know much about how things are or were, so this can also be useful for the general public.
Today on the chronicles: The Prelude to a Connection
The first time I ever met Lindsey Ross was the summer of 1999. I was at a camp called Moshava in the boonies of Maryland. Every summer, the older campers (I was a junior counselor that summer) have a get-together weekend with the older campers of the nearby sister camp in Pennsylvania. This summer, the junior counselors all got together at Moshava while the rest of the camp was on a hiking trip for three days. It was an awesome time...just us crazy 16 year olds with a whole camp to ourselves.
Lindsey was at that sister camp, Galil, that year. Although she is originally from Seattle and normally went to a different sister camp in BC, this summer she decided to stir it up a bit and went across the country for camp.
I didn't really know anyone from Galil, so it was a huge influx of new people to meet. We had a really fun few days, talking about interesting things and whatnot. Part of the whatnot was one night when we were hanging out in our lounge together. I was chilling on a couch with a few people, who happened to be girls. I decided to secretly play a game to see how many girls I could get to be with me on the couch at once. Only one other person even knew about this ridiculous game and took a picture of all of us each time I added a girl. One of the original two girls who was with me on the couch, and was there every time for every picture, was a quiet girl named Lindsey. I hadn't really talked to her, but that didn't stop me from sexually posing next to her in every picture. I was even licking her in a couple. Whatever, it was camp...
That was the extent of my interactions with Lindsey that first time. I didn't really hit it off with her then. In fact, I ended up hooking up with a completely different girl, who has a role to play later in the story. Jamie, if you are reading, I miss you.
The second time I ever met Lindsey was a few months later. It was October of 1999 and I was at a seminar for my youth movement in Toronto. Lindsey was also at this seminar. I don't think I even remembered her. But at this seminar we really connected. We hung out a lot and talked a lot.
The most special moment of this chance encounter in Toronto was when we walked together to a gas station down the street and shared pistachios for the very first time. The sharing of pistachios was forever etched in our relationship despite the fact that we weren't "together" or "in a relationship" at all that weekend.
That was about all that happened there, although I did insist on sitting next to her on the drive back to the airport...I was such a dork. I was a bit taken by her though. After the weekend, I got a hold of my good friend Jamie, of three paragraphs ago fame, and asked for Lindsey's IM name.
Ristretto6, a name I grew to know so well. We chatted a couple times, quite awkwardly. We didn't have much, but we knew each other, and at least liked each other. That was the extent of our shared time together before the mammoth life changing event I call WORKSHOP happened.
End Chapter 1.
Wednesday, October 26, 2005
Firsts and Lasts
Five years ago, on a warm September night in Israel, I laid down with Lindsey Ross. This was not all that unique, but what made this night different was that we kissed for the first time. It was beautiful, romantic, special, simply awesome.
Tonight, Lindsey came home from a weekend trip to Seattle. We gave each other a big hug, a hug meant for lovers. It was our last.
Lindsey and I ended our relationship tonight. She questioned our relationship and came up with an answer neither of us ever expected. She didn't want to be a part of the relationship anymore.
It wasn't a fight, it wasn't a lie, it wasn't a nameable problem, it just was...
I of course respect her decision. After all, I don't want to be in a relationship with a person who doesn't want to be in it with me. I wanted to be in a relationship with a different Lindsey, one who loved what we had and wanted to be a part of it forever. I found out tonight that that person doesn't actually exist.
I don't want to convince her, I don't want to argue with her, I don't want to make her question more. In the end, I would always know that I was with someone who I needed to convince to be with me, and thats just not the kind of relationship I want.
I'm crying like never before. I completely forgot what it feels like to be utterly heartbroken. When I get really sad, it physically manifests itself. I honestly can feel my heart breaking. My chest hurts. My eyes burn from the tears. One moment I can be sitting calmly, considering practical things I need to do with my life, the next I am screaming with a pain that I never could have imagined would come.
We are sleeping seperately tonight, under the same roof. Thats a first.
I am so scared of whats to come...
Tonight, Lindsey came home from a weekend trip to Seattle. We gave each other a big hug, a hug meant for lovers. It was our last.
Lindsey and I ended our relationship tonight. She questioned our relationship and came up with an answer neither of us ever expected. She didn't want to be a part of the relationship anymore.
It wasn't a fight, it wasn't a lie, it wasn't a nameable problem, it just was...
I of course respect her decision. After all, I don't want to be in a relationship with a person who doesn't want to be in it with me. I wanted to be in a relationship with a different Lindsey, one who loved what we had and wanted to be a part of it forever. I found out tonight that that person doesn't actually exist.
I don't want to convince her, I don't want to argue with her, I don't want to make her question more. In the end, I would always know that I was with someone who I needed to convince to be with me, and thats just not the kind of relationship I want.
I'm crying like never before. I completely forgot what it feels like to be utterly heartbroken. When I get really sad, it physically manifests itself. I honestly can feel my heart breaking. My chest hurts. My eyes burn from the tears. One moment I can be sitting calmly, considering practical things I need to do with my life, the next I am screaming with a pain that I never could have imagined would come.
We are sleeping seperately tonight, under the same roof. Thats a first.
I am so scared of whats to come...
Thursday, September 29, 2005
Those Weak of Heart and Mind, Stop Here
Hi,
For some reason, many of the friends I have made in the past five years do not know me. They may think they know me, I may even think they know me, but they don't. I am not sure why. I just haven't been keen on opening myself up to people. I hang out immensely with these people, and we have lots of great and memorable times together, but I find that my entire personality is just what they have physically observed of me. People don't really know my past, what my life is like (other than school/improv), what my relationship with Lindsey is like.
Here is an example that surprised even me: A few months ago I was sitting and eating with a couple of friends who I had known for a good 2 or 3 years. They were particularly good friends who I hung out with on many many occasions. While sitting with them, it became apparent that they really knew almost nothing about my Workshop experience. It was a big realization that they knew nothing of the program, my experiences, or my stories of a year of my life that was probably the single most formative time of my life.
I don't talk to people about my feelings, I hide when I am sad, I try to only put on a neutral to happy face. Maybe a lesson I've learned is that no one likes an unhappy person. When someone asks if I'm OK, I will almost always say fine or good or great, no matter how I feel. I don't believe that people really want to hear anything else.
This is a weird lesson to have learned. I'd like to believe I've learned otherwise, because its not the healthiest outlook to have. I've been through so much sadness in my life. I've experienced intense periods of depression, moments of despair where I was ready and willing to end it all. I learned to beat a lot of those feelings by embracing sadness as a normal feeling (if its OK to be happy, why shouldn't it be OK to be sad?), by talking about how I feel, and by realizing that life is precious. I always give advice to other people to be open and honest with themselves and others. I quote a book I once read (The Prophet, by Kahlil Gibrian) and tell people that we can only be filled with joy as deep as sorrow cuts into us. I am pretty well versed on how to be open about feelings.
In high school, I was perpetually alone and unhappy. But that's high school, right? So then I went on Workshop. I was always around a really great (at times) group of people. We were constantly open with each other, we shared deep things...I met the most important person in my life. I grew, I learned things about myself, I confronted my parents about deeply disliking them, I learned to love again, I made close friends that wil certainly last a lifetime, I became a new and improved Gil. My whole 18 years before that year were all just a long trail of shit that I could wipe away clean.
And yet, here I am, five years down the road, and I find myself hiding my true self. I show half myself. I show almost nothing to anybody. I don't let people in. Sometimes I don't even know if I'm in anymore.
Why is that? Even my great friends from Workshop have grown distant. I hardly talk to them, and when I do its never like it was back then, its the same as it is with anyone else. I've dabbled in opening up a little to people with mixed results. Sometimes I can feel that another person wants me to tell them more, but I still avoid it.
I am feeling number and number. Something needs to change. I need to start feeling again.
For some reason, many of the friends I have made in the past five years do not know me. They may think they know me, I may even think they know me, but they don't. I am not sure why. I just haven't been keen on opening myself up to people. I hang out immensely with these people, and we have lots of great and memorable times together, but I find that my entire personality is just what they have physically observed of me. People don't really know my past, what my life is like (other than school/improv), what my relationship with Lindsey is like.
Here is an example that surprised even me: A few months ago I was sitting and eating with a couple of friends who I had known for a good 2 or 3 years. They were particularly good friends who I hung out with on many many occasions. While sitting with them, it became apparent that they really knew almost nothing about my Workshop experience. It was a big realization that they knew nothing of the program, my experiences, or my stories of a year of my life that was probably the single most formative time of my life.
I don't talk to people about my feelings, I hide when I am sad, I try to only put on a neutral to happy face. Maybe a lesson I've learned is that no one likes an unhappy person. When someone asks if I'm OK, I will almost always say fine or good or great, no matter how I feel. I don't believe that people really want to hear anything else.
This is a weird lesson to have learned. I'd like to believe I've learned otherwise, because its not the healthiest outlook to have. I've been through so much sadness in my life. I've experienced intense periods of depression, moments of despair where I was ready and willing to end it all. I learned to beat a lot of those feelings by embracing sadness as a normal feeling (if its OK to be happy, why shouldn't it be OK to be sad?), by talking about how I feel, and by realizing that life is precious. I always give advice to other people to be open and honest with themselves and others. I quote a book I once read (The Prophet, by Kahlil Gibrian) and tell people that we can only be filled with joy as deep as sorrow cuts into us. I am pretty well versed on how to be open about feelings.
In high school, I was perpetually alone and unhappy. But that's high school, right? So then I went on Workshop. I was always around a really great (at times) group of people. We were constantly open with each other, we shared deep things...I met the most important person in my life. I grew, I learned things about myself, I confronted my parents about deeply disliking them, I learned to love again, I made close friends that wil certainly last a lifetime, I became a new and improved Gil. My whole 18 years before that year were all just a long trail of shit that I could wipe away clean.
And yet, here I am, five years down the road, and I find myself hiding my true self. I show half myself. I show almost nothing to anybody. I don't let people in. Sometimes I don't even know if I'm in anymore.
Why is that? Even my great friends from Workshop have grown distant. I hardly talk to them, and when I do its never like it was back then, its the same as it is with anyone else. I've dabbled in opening up a little to people with mixed results. Sometimes I can feel that another person wants me to tell them more, but I still avoid it.
I am feeling number and number. Something needs to change. I need to start feeling again.
Tuesday, September 13, 2005
Photo of the Day
This isn't a particularly great picture, but for some sad reason I don't have a lot of pictures of this guy. This guy is a great guy. He was my best friend on MBI, and he continues to be one of my bestest buddies even though we are on opposite coasts. I was scared to go on MBI until I found out he was going, too. He is pretty cute, huh?
Anyway, the reason I have a picture of him is for more than just praise, although I could do that for a long time. The reason is that he relates to my entry today. My entry dealt with the idea of helping people and what I can do. Now my friend here, who is named Zach by the way, had an interesting perspective on this topic. Zach at one point in time tried to change the situation in Darfur, Sudan by getting a petition signed by thousands of students Canada-wide. He proudly sent this petition to the foreign minister to initiate change in government policy. In case you don't know Canadian government policy, nothing has changed. They are as unconcerned with that region of the world as any other rich predominantly white nation. This was a crushing blow to Zach's idea of what he could do to make a change in the world.
This summer, Zach began to challenge people's conception of making change by proposing his own idea of how to truly make a difference. As an individual, what can you do to save a family's life in Darfur? Talking to politicians often is fruitless, and when it isn't, it is still so slow in its avenues that no difference will be made in the necessary time. You could enter politics yourself, but thats well in the future before you are going to be able to change anything of concern. You could send money, but that won't necessarily save a life. So Zach proposed this: Get yourself a gun, AK-47 or the like, fly to Darfur, wait outside an African village, and when that van full of Janjaweed come out, you kill them. In the time that you have made by attacking the would-be killers, at least one family will have had enough time to run away to a refugee camp or the likes. Even if you die, you probably have saved their lives. This is the best and possibly only thing an individual can do to truly affect lives in Darfur today..according to Zach, NOT me.
Zach would argue very honestly about this, and its hard to counter this arguement. My main counter was that I am truly against killing no matter what. Its not OK to go out and kill those Janjaweed, even though they are potential killers themselves. Thats just my humanistic values, though. Its not a good arguement for Zach.
An actual arguement is that as a collective or a movement, you can be part of something larger that can really help. One person can't do a lot, but a solid group can. You can all work together in Sudan to make a difference in many ways other than just killing. And even if you were killing, you'd be way more efficient as a group.
Woah, that was a morbid comment.
Anyway, thats why my idea of being leader of my movement is gaining more and more import in my head. As the leader of a collective I can really make a difference somewhere if I set the movement's sight in that direction.
Here is another story involving Zach:
At camp one year (Zach and I are camp friends originally) Zach was trying to grasp the concept of irony. He would propose all sorts of situations and I would say whether they were ironic or not (i.e. a diabetic dying from being hit by a truck carrying insulin). Anyway, at camp we have fun activities where everyone dresses up and acts out funny situations. This particular night was Pirate Night and everyone was dressed like pirates. I drew on a mustache and had a sword/stick, Zach wore a bandana, sash and eyepatch. Zach and I sat and told stories to kids about swashbuckling and booty. One story Zach was telling involved him stealing booty from me, and as he told the story he grabbed my hand and pulled it towards him (you know, for visual aid to the story). Unfortunately, I was holding my sword/stick in that hand and he pulled it directly into his eye quite hard. He was hurt pretty bad and as he lay in tears in the infirmary, I sat with him. He was still in his bandana, sash, torn pants, and now he had a real eyepatch over his eye. He turned to me and weakly asked, "Gil, is this ironic?" I gently pat his head and nodded, "Yes, Zach. This is definitely ironic."
I Know I Didn't Put The P
Yo,
I saw Constant Gardener yesterday. It was actually a pretty great movie. It dealt with very interesting topics, and for me it brought up the theme of, "What can I do to help?"
This is a recurring theme in my head. The basic idea, which I've written about before so forgive the slight redundancy, is that I want to do something that helps people when I grow up. I want to do a job which will improve people's lives. The ideas for future life choices at this point in time are as such:
1) Become leader of my youth movement (Mazkir Tnua...great title)
2) Drop everything and pursue imrov seriously
3) Grad School for something or other, possible Speech Pathology
Now, from these three, it seems #1 holds the most option of helping people. My movement is part of an international movement which works towards peace and social justice in Israel, among other things. As the head of my movement, I can direct actions, set plans in place, and get involved in international coordinated initiatives. I could even push my movement to get more actively and officially involved in domestic social justice issues, of which there are many.
But #3 also holds a lot of potential. If I were to gain a useful skill, such as Speech Pathology certification, I would be actively helping individuals every day! That seems awesome, right? Its not as large scale as my movement, but it is way more concrete that planning and implementing initiatives and the like. Either this person can talk, or they can't...figure it out!
Unfortunately for me, #2 is very possibly at the top of my list. This option holds the least "help people" potential. It does seem the funnest. I mean, imrov! Its so great, I love doing imrov, imrov is so fulfilling, I never feel like I'm getting enough of imrov! It makes sense to go for it, right?
Here's the thing: To temper the fervor raised inside myself after the Constant Gardener, I also gained an interesting message from an episode of My So Called Life. First of all, let me just say that this show is really fun to watch. It is really well made, and the characters are all really interesting. Anyway, in this most recent episode, Graham (Angela's [Claire Danes] Dad) has a life-shaking event happen. He realizes that although he may be good at his job, its not what he wants to be doing, and he doesn't want to waste his life away. Luckily, his wife realizes this and being his boss, fires him. How touching. The moral is obvious, and its relevant. I do love imrov, and it makes me really happy. Isn't that whats most important overall?
Shit. I hate that two different and equally entertaining and poignant fictional stories are putting me into such a moral paradox!
Anyway, the positive outlook on all this is that I'm still really young, and I have time to dabble in things before making the big leap into a career for quite some time. Thats the lesson I learned from some guy I kinda know who I ran into yesterday and had a short but awkward conversation with. Perhaps the best lessons in life come from real life interactions, and not from watching glowing screens of scripted interactions with prepackaged morals.
That was a kind of hippy ending. Shit.
I saw Constant Gardener yesterday. It was actually a pretty great movie. It dealt with very interesting topics, and for me it brought up the theme of, "What can I do to help?"
This is a recurring theme in my head. The basic idea, which I've written about before so forgive the slight redundancy, is that I want to do something that helps people when I grow up. I want to do a job which will improve people's lives. The ideas for future life choices at this point in time are as such:
1) Become leader of my youth movement (Mazkir Tnua...great title)
2) Drop everything and pursue imrov seriously
3) Grad School for something or other, possible Speech Pathology
Now, from these three, it seems #1 holds the most option of helping people. My movement is part of an international movement which works towards peace and social justice in Israel, among other things. As the head of my movement, I can direct actions, set plans in place, and get involved in international coordinated initiatives. I could even push my movement to get more actively and officially involved in domestic social justice issues, of which there are many.
But #3 also holds a lot of potential. If I were to gain a useful skill, such as Speech Pathology certification, I would be actively helping individuals every day! That seems awesome, right? Its not as large scale as my movement, but it is way more concrete that planning and implementing initiatives and the like. Either this person can talk, or they can't...figure it out!
Unfortunately for me, #2 is very possibly at the top of my list. This option holds the least "help people" potential. It does seem the funnest. I mean, imrov! Its so great, I love doing imrov, imrov is so fulfilling, I never feel like I'm getting enough of imrov! It makes sense to go for it, right?
Here's the thing: To temper the fervor raised inside myself after the Constant Gardener, I also gained an interesting message from an episode of My So Called Life. First of all, let me just say that this show is really fun to watch. It is really well made, and the characters are all really interesting. Anyway, in this most recent episode, Graham (Angela's [Claire Danes] Dad) has a life-shaking event happen. He realizes that although he may be good at his job, its not what he wants to be doing, and he doesn't want to waste his life away. Luckily, his wife realizes this and being his boss, fires him. How touching. The moral is obvious, and its relevant. I do love imrov, and it makes me really happy. Isn't that whats most important overall?
Shit. I hate that two different and equally entertaining and poignant fictional stories are putting me into such a moral paradox!
Anyway, the positive outlook on all this is that I'm still really young, and I have time to dabble in things before making the big leap into a career for quite some time. Thats the lesson I learned from some guy I kinda know who I ran into yesterday and had a short but awkward conversation with. Perhaps the best lessons in life come from real life interactions, and not from watching glowing screens of scripted interactions with prepackaged morals.
That was a kind of hippy ending. Shit.
Monday, September 05, 2005
Laziness Sets In With Ironic Efficiency
Hi,
Well, I decided a while back not to apologize for not writing in my blog, but I'd at least like to explain what's been happening.
Firstly, I got way too sucked into my little video game world. It turns out that the game really is a complex sequel to Chrono Trigger, and as the plot got denser, I got more determined to figure out what the hell was going on. Thats my first explanation.
Secondly, I haven't really been responding to ANY emails or anything. I've been generally abstaining from writing things on my computer I guess. No emails, not blog entries. What happened is that I received an email that I really wanted to respond to, but it was also somewhat of an overwhleming task. So, while I was shying away from responding to this email, I shied away from all others, knowing that if I began one email, I'd inevitably write this email thats been hanging over me. This is a common phenomenon for me, it happens with school work as well sometimes. So in writing this blog entry, I am finally submitting to writing this email. And its a good thing, because in my hiatus from writing, I've received an email from a hurt friend because I didn't respond. Oops. Thats the second reason.
Lastly, I have been super busy hanging out with friends and doing cool things, I didn't really have any time. Thats the last reason. Also, its a lie.
Anyway, thats the low down.
I'd really like this post to be about something other than why I haven't posted so here is a sliver of my life in the past few days:
I started school on Thurday and its pretty fun. I actually only have class on Tuesday and Thursday, which means 4 day weekends! It all depends on McGill's ability to accept Concordia University as a legitimate institute of higher learning.
You see, I took some Linguistics classes at Concordia a few years back, and one of those courses was Phonology. It was a lovely course taught by the wonderful Charles Reiss, and I aced it after happily working away through the semester. When I approached the McGill Linguistics department about this issue a couple years back they seemed dissatisfied with me taking a core Linguistics course at Concordia and wanted me to take it AGAIN!
I kind of didn't respond to this request over the years and now I find myself at the last semester of my time here at McGill. I figure that when I talk to the advisor, I can some how sucker him into letting me have my rightful Concordia credits by appealing to the fact that its my last semester and I'm too busy to fit it in my schedule.
I've got my fingers crossed on this one, I certainly don't want ONE class on Monday Wednesday and Friday. I would definitely want to skip it 75 to 99% of the time.
I'll keep you posted. Hehe...blog pun.
Well, I decided a while back not to apologize for not writing in my blog, but I'd at least like to explain what's been happening.
Firstly, I got way too sucked into my little video game world. It turns out that the game really is a complex sequel to Chrono Trigger, and as the plot got denser, I got more determined to figure out what the hell was going on. Thats my first explanation.
Secondly, I haven't really been responding to ANY emails or anything. I've been generally abstaining from writing things on my computer I guess. No emails, not blog entries. What happened is that I received an email that I really wanted to respond to, but it was also somewhat of an overwhleming task. So, while I was shying away from responding to this email, I shied away from all others, knowing that if I began one email, I'd inevitably write this email thats been hanging over me. This is a common phenomenon for me, it happens with school work as well sometimes. So in writing this blog entry, I am finally submitting to writing this email. And its a good thing, because in my hiatus from writing, I've received an email from a hurt friend because I didn't respond. Oops. Thats the second reason.
Lastly, I have been super busy hanging out with friends and doing cool things, I didn't really have any time. Thats the last reason. Also, its a lie.
Anyway, thats the low down.
I'd really like this post to be about something other than why I haven't posted so here is a sliver of my life in the past few days:
I started school on Thurday and its pretty fun. I actually only have class on Tuesday and Thursday, which means 4 day weekends! It all depends on McGill's ability to accept Concordia University as a legitimate institute of higher learning.
You see, I took some Linguistics classes at Concordia a few years back, and one of those courses was Phonology. It was a lovely course taught by the wonderful Charles Reiss, and I aced it after happily working away through the semester. When I approached the McGill Linguistics department about this issue a couple years back they seemed dissatisfied with me taking a core Linguistics course at Concordia and wanted me to take it AGAIN!
I kind of didn't respond to this request over the years and now I find myself at the last semester of my time here at McGill. I figure that when I talk to the advisor, I can some how sucker him into letting me have my rightful Concordia credits by appealing to the fact that its my last semester and I'm too busy to fit it in my schedule.
I've got my fingers crossed on this one, I certainly don't want ONE class on Monday Wednesday and Friday. I would definitely want to skip it 75 to 99% of the time.
I'll keep you posted. Hehe...blog pun.
Saturday, August 27, 2005
Photo of the Day
This photo is of my friend Alana. The purpose of this picture was to capture the beauty of the hike we were on. We were in the desert and we went on an absolutely beautiful hike down into a deep white valley. This picture was taken at the bottom of the valley, you can just see the pool of water behind her, and the high stone walls topped with clear blue desert sky.
This hike was the best hike we went on. Its not because it was the most beautiful or challenging or unique. It was the best because it was the first time we managed to keep 33 kids together as a group for a whole hike. Every time we hike, the fast people charge ahead and the hike-haters lag behind creating a gap of almost 10 minutes at times. Thus we end up starting and stopping a lot, and the fast guys get annoyed at the slow guys, and the slow guys feel like they are holding the group behind.
On this hike, we consciously slowed the pace and put the slow people in front and the fast people in back. In this way we managed to have a group hike. The hike was not too long, so we were able to maintain this balance the whole way. It was a clear success. The kids all loved the hike and we finished together.
It always feels good to try and do something for your group and succeeding. My job on this trip was to be doing things like that. Often I felt useless as the tour guide was in charge of almost everything. But on this particular hike I and the two other madrichim (hebrew for leaders) came up with this simple plan to please everyone and it worked. Yay.
I'm Not a Guy
Shalom,
I hate shopping. I really really hate shopping.
Here are some reasons:
1) I seldom buy things. Thus "going shopping" is actually me standing still while others look at things.
2) Even when I buy things, I never like to take more than 10 minutes. Once I went shoe shopping and I made a decision AND purchased in 7 minutes. Ha-Cha!
3) When I am browsing, I get mad at myself for shopping. Its a vicious cycle like that.
4) I don't like being surrounded by consumerism. Does that make me a dumb hippy? Dang.
5) I don't really even like spending money. And when I do want to spend money, I somehow never have enough! What's up wit dat?!
Today I went to the St. Laurent street fair (La Frenesie de La Main!) and perused the boulevard. For me, the excitement of the street fair (La Frenesie!) is just the very concept of it. I love the fact that a major city can shut down a street it openly admits is the main street just because...well, its summer! I love walking through the throngs of people, the hordes of excited consumers. I love the little special things that come out, like mango-on-a-stick, like funky indie t-shirt vendors, like a beach volleyball tournament in a converted parking lot, like the oddly Being John Malkovitch-like puppet show (it was eerily cool). I don't purchase things, I just walk, observe, experience...I breathe deep and just take it all in.
I was with others though. We started at Mont-Royal and strolled down at a leisurely pace. As more and more stores crowded the sidewalk the pace slowed. By Avenue Des Pins I had lost all my patience.
I don't want to sound like a "guy", but I can't stand the act of shopping. Actually, I think its becoming quite trendy for guys to enjoy shopping. Whether it be for some bootylicious bling, or for the sheer metrosexual fun of it, shopping seems to be the in thing across the gender spectrum.
And, as I often find myself, I am not on that damned gender spectrum.
I hate shopping. I really really hate shopping.
Here are some reasons:
1) I seldom buy things. Thus "going shopping" is actually me standing still while others look at things.
2) Even when I buy things, I never like to take more than 10 minutes. Once I went shoe shopping and I made a decision AND purchased in 7 minutes. Ha-Cha!
3) When I am browsing, I get mad at myself for shopping. Its a vicious cycle like that.
4) I don't like being surrounded by consumerism. Does that make me a dumb hippy? Dang.
5) I don't really even like spending money. And when I do want to spend money, I somehow never have enough! What's up wit dat?!
Today I went to the St. Laurent street fair (La Frenesie de La Main!) and perused the boulevard. For me, the excitement of the street fair (La Frenesie!) is just the very concept of it. I love the fact that a major city can shut down a street it openly admits is the main street just because...well, its summer! I love walking through the throngs of people, the hordes of excited consumers. I love the little special things that come out, like mango-on-a-stick, like funky indie t-shirt vendors, like a beach volleyball tournament in a converted parking lot, like the oddly Being John Malkovitch-like puppet show (it was eerily cool). I don't purchase things, I just walk, observe, experience...I breathe deep and just take it all in.
I was with others though. We started at Mont-Royal and strolled down at a leisurely pace. As more and more stores crowded the sidewalk the pace slowed. By Avenue Des Pins I had lost all my patience.
I don't want to sound like a "guy", but I can't stand the act of shopping. Actually, I think its becoming quite trendy for guys to enjoy shopping. Whether it be for some bootylicious bling, or for the sheer metrosexual fun of it, shopping seems to be the in thing across the gender spectrum.
And, as I often find myself, I am not on that damned gender spectrum.
Tuesday, August 23, 2005
Photo of the Day
This photo is of all of the kids on a very special day. It is the day they receive their Chultzot, movement shirts. From the day they start in the movement as campers or whatnot, the kids see their counselors wearing these blue shirts. These shirts are full of significance and they are prized possesions of all movement members. The kids do not receive their shirts until they participate in the MBI program. The kids all know this of course and eagerly await the day that they receive these blue beauties.
We gave them their shirts about halfway through the summer and they were so psyched. Here is the catch, though: The shirt also contains a Sroch, or string. This red string is what really makes these shirts something special, and furthermore declares us as socialist and labor-oriented. We didn't give them the Sroch until the very last day of MBI, and by then they were aching for it.
If you are not a movement member, it probably sounds pretty silly to get all worked up over a silly blue shirt and red string. But this shirt is the true symbol of our movement. All over Israel, and the world really, you can look for others in this shirt and know that you are connected to them. It is a statement to wear this shirt. It is the kids first time being treated as full movement members, and they long for that day.
I love my Chultza, and I am filled with a special pride whenever I wear it. It is old and worn in, which makes it all the more special to me. The day I took this picture, when I saw that sea of blue, all the kids excitedly wearing this, I was so proud of this group of kids. They are the new leaders of my movement, and I was there to personally pass on this revered tradition.
Chronological Crossroads
Hello,
I made the decision to start playing a video game. This may sound like a light decision, but I have a long history of video game playing. This history is full of instances where I sit for long periods in front of the glowing screen, putting hour after hour of gameplay in so I succeed in beating whatever I am playing. Since I have beat Final Fantasy I, IV, V, VI, VII, VIII, IX, X, and X-2, I am not wholly ashamed of this (the list is longer, those are just the ones that are dear to my heart).
My issue comes from the fact that by starting to play now, I am putting myself in a position where I will want to put in many many hours of gametime in the coming weeks. This issue coincides temporally with the arrival of many of my friends and acquaintances from out of town. So, after having wasted much time over the past two weeks when very few of my friends were in town, I for some reason decide to embark on a time consuming quest right when I actually want to have free time. But its too late to turn back now.
The game I have started is called Chrono Cross. It is the quasi-sequel to the SNES epic masterpiece Chrono Trigger. There were three geniuses behind the creation of Chrono Trigger and all three were absent in the creation of Chrono Cross. Thus, the sequel is not outstanding. It is fun, though. I am Serge, a boy from a small beach town who is at the center of a mystery involving the very fabric of space-time itself. After somehow transporting to an alternate dimension, I find that I have been dead for 10 years, and some cat-man named Lynx is very interested in me. So, I obviously need to beat the crap out of a lot of people to get answers. On the way I pick up around 40 (yes 40) helpful side characters. It is an alright plot, with decent graphics, decent sound, and very unique gameplay. All in all, a fun and engrossing experience.
My problem is that I've owned this game for about 5 years and I never bothered beating it. It has just been sitting on my shelf beckoning me. When it isn't beckoning, its actually taunting me..."Cmon, Gil. Am I too hard? Can't beat me? Are you scared?" Hell, no, I'm not scared!
OK. I've just revealed a very large chunk of my dorkiness. Please don't look down on me for it.
I made the decision to start playing a video game. This may sound like a light decision, but I have a long history of video game playing. This history is full of instances where I sit for long periods in front of the glowing screen, putting hour after hour of gameplay in so I succeed in beating whatever I am playing. Since I have beat Final Fantasy I, IV, V, VI, VII, VIII, IX, X, and X-2, I am not wholly ashamed of this (the list is longer, those are just the ones that are dear to my heart).
My issue comes from the fact that by starting to play now, I am putting myself in a position where I will want to put in many many hours of gametime in the coming weeks. This issue coincides temporally with the arrival of many of my friends and acquaintances from out of town. So, after having wasted much time over the past two weeks when very few of my friends were in town, I for some reason decide to embark on a time consuming quest right when I actually want to have free time. But its too late to turn back now.
The game I have started is called Chrono Cross. It is the quasi-sequel to the SNES epic masterpiece Chrono Trigger. There were three geniuses behind the creation of Chrono Trigger and all three were absent in the creation of Chrono Cross. Thus, the sequel is not outstanding. It is fun, though. I am Serge, a boy from a small beach town who is at the center of a mystery involving the very fabric of space-time itself. After somehow transporting to an alternate dimension, I find that I have been dead for 10 years, and some cat-man named Lynx is very interested in me. So, I obviously need to beat the crap out of a lot of people to get answers. On the way I pick up around 40 (yes 40) helpful side characters. It is an alright plot, with decent graphics, decent sound, and very unique gameplay. All in all, a fun and engrossing experience.
My problem is that I've owned this game for about 5 years and I never bothered beating it. It has just been sitting on my shelf beckoning me. When it isn't beckoning, its actually taunting me..."Cmon, Gil. Am I too hard? Can't beat me? Are you scared?" Hell, no, I'm not scared!
OK. I've just revealed a very large chunk of my dorkiness. Please don't look down on me for it.
Monday, August 22, 2005
Photo of the Day
The man shown in this photo is none other than the great Neil Harris. This isn't such a great photo of him, but truly no photo would do justice to his greatness, his grandeur. He is an educational speaker in Israel, originally from Manchester, UK. He is the most amazing speaker there is. No matter how much hype you give him, no matter how many times you see him, he still is riveting. You can (and do) listen to him for hours and the whole time you are totally immersed in his stories. Oh, did I mention what he talks about? The Roots of Historical Socialist Labor Zionism. It sounds like a massively boring topic, and rightfully so (unless you are a keener like me). But Neil brings it to life by taking you to the spots where history was made, contextualizing, contemporizing, and even singing. He is truly wonderful. One group was so enamored by him that they produced bracelets with the acronym WWNHD: What would Neil Harris do?
Oh, and did I mention that he shares a name with Doogie Howser, MD? How cool is that?!
Anyway, this picture was taken in Deganya Aleph, the first Kibbutz ever built. It is a wonderful place and full of history. There is a portion of our trip where we are split up and live on various Kibbutzes throughout Israel for 5 days. I was blessed with the opportunity to stay on Deganya Aleph for that portion. It was awesome. Every step I took I imagined being taken by famous Labor Zionists like Rachel, AD Gordon, and Berl Katznelson. I am a big dork for these sorts of things, so it was really great for me and me only.
In reality, the actual programming during that part of the trip was pretty sucky. We basically had nothing to do all day long and felt pretty useless. But it was good relaxation time. Who can really complain when you are having a barbeque on the banks of the Jordan River, and using a rope swing from a high tree to do a flip into the sacred water in which Jesus himself was baptized?
The true highlight of that portion of my trip was one particular night. It was one of my friends' birthday that night so we all decided to try and meet up at a pub on one of the Kibbutzes, because we were all relatively close and the kids were staying with host families. Me and my friend Ruth were loaned bicycles and we actually biked across Emek Hayarden, on the coast of the Kinneret (Sea of Galilee for all you Christians), in the middle of the night. Most of the area is Kibbutz land, so we were biking through fields of bananas and dates. It was such an amazing feeling and it was so beautiful. I felt so free. I love biking, I love Kibbutz, I love that area of Israel, and I love hanging out with my friends. It honestly was the best night of my entire summer.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)