What up, dog? Yes folks, I expect to receive fan mail from Snoopy and Odie. Aw well. My postings are becoming less and less frequent. I'm not sure if this should bother me. You know that feeling when you have seemingly 50 million things to do and the drive to do none of them? That's how I feel. Half finished books, trip reports, audio projects (well, blame my out of commission recordable CD player for that one), and the like surround me as though I am in the eye of the hurricane. The winds of summer, all the while, are rapidly waning. So what have I been up to, you wonder. Why do you wonder this? What's it to you, punk? :P Oh yeah, mindless fodder for a mindless blog. I know, one shouldn't alienate one's audience, but the only thing I really have a talent for is alienating people. I've got to find a way to make that pay. Maybe I should have my own show on talk radio or perhaps get a job in the Governor's office (department of Native American Affairs, or whatever it's called). Maybe I should just get on with it.
I bought an album called Welcome Interstate Managers by Fountains of Wayne. This is my first purchase for this band, but is unlikely to be my last. It's a pretty good work. Gets a little bogged down in the second half, but there are some genuinely clever and humorous lyrics to be had. The first "single" (if you want to call it that), Stacy's Mom, gets outshined by the two tracks that precede it, Mexican Wine and Bright Future in Sales. Even so, it's mucho fun and great to sing along with..."Stacy's mom has got it going on...." Until Andy and Colin can pull together something new for us (I mean, the Warbles are great, but let's have some new material, please!), add this one to your to do list. Tell 'em Jason sent you. The guy or gal at the CD store will have no clue what you're talking about, but I'll smile if I overhear you doing it.
My last post was quite the little panic, but after getting home from that trip I feel, for the first time since the vague incident (that I don't want to elaborate on to strangers) happened, that everything will end up being OK. The only thing that sucks is that an actual conversation has yet to take place, but actions speak louder than words and the actions were, at least somewhat, reassuring. I think she and I will get it back and we'll be stronger for it. Winning her new friend over will be a little more difficult, I fear, but I am both honorable and persistent. I will succeed or make an obsequious ass of myself trying. It's important to me that everything be better than good with everyone, eventually. That will make things easier in the long run. I smokeum peace pipe with anyone willing to join me. Just don't go to the Narragansett's smoke shop to buy your stuff (can't resist an opportunity to make the reference come full circle :P).
As a result of my recent, um, folly, I think I'm swearing off women, at least for a little while. I'm tired of bringing pain unto myself and those I care about. I'm tired of making messes that aren't easily cleaned up. I'm tired of disappointing people and letting them disappoint me. I will look, I might even lust, but I will not approach a woman for a very long time unless she shows an obvious interest in me. In other words, I'll likely die never having known what it's like to be loved, but in the end, really, don't we all? Maybe not. Eventually, the hiatus will end. I'll make the same mistakes and wonder what I did wrong when I know full well that what I did wrong was to have even a modicum of faith in human nature. I know my role, and in the moments that I accept it, I actually approach a state resembling happiness. I am fifth business. Perhaps that requires an explanation....
Fifth Business is a book I read in my senior year of high school. My teacher of English (you don't dare call him an English teacher as he's not of British descent), who I'm shocked to find after shaving my beard off I now vaguely resemble, gave each student a choice of anywhere from four to sixteen books (luck of the draw). I chose this book. It was a rather tiresome story that made a point of making you wait far too long for a definition of the title, as I recall. Once it was defined, I knew how appropriate it was for
me to be reading this. Fifth business pertains to those characters in a play, book, story, etc. who are non-essential to the primary plot...they are there mainly to play off the main characters and move things along, perhaps even throw the reader a red herring in regard to their significance, but they do not evolve, they are not entitled to any real stories or climaxes or resolutions of their own. They are just there for the benefit of the other characters. They may cause havoc, pain, distress, insult, windfall, comic relief, or any of a myriad of other plot complications, but they are thoroughly disposable. I am fifth business. I watch, I observe, I wreck others lives and, on rare occasions, bring them joy instead, but I have nothing real to call my own. I have lots of things to call my own, actually, but some crucial things are missing. People.
I never got the hang of this being properly social with people thing. I can put on an act, learn from past mistakes, but sooner or later, my introversion and inexperience betrays me and I screw myself over royally. I wish I understood people better. I wish I knew how to still be myself and do things my way without honking people off. I wish I understood how to properly mend fences when things do go bad. I wish I were more universally accepted and respected in the community I claim to be among the leaders of. I wish apologies were always accepted without question. I wish people didn't judge me. I wish that if people insist upon judging me, they'd walk many miles in my shoes first. It infuriates me when I hear about people who barely know me gossiping about me and passing judgment. My life is none of your (expletive deleted) business unless you know me well. Otherwise, you don't really have a right to an opinion. If you insist that you do, then in the very least, you don't have a right to have it carry any weight with anyone. I wish I could make everything OK with everyone I ever irked...except Mr. Food...I still hate him..."Ooh, it's so good"...bleh!
I'm not trying to drag you all down, intrepid readers. I've no one to vent to, no one to talk to, no one to provide comfort or reassurance, and so I rant amidst this sea of white noise and wasted bandwidth. It's not that I have no one per se, it's just that I don't know if I can have a deep conversation about life and all with any of my friends. One friend of mine who I usually turn to for such guidance and patience just had a kid four months ago and is very much a mommy first and foremost...can't blame her for that. Another friend is, well, someone who I'm still likely on fragile ground with (observant readers might guess that I've already referenced that person in this Blog, perhaps even in this post)...I doubt she's willing to listen to my frustrations right now. Besides, since she's not very talkative with me, I wonder if I can trust her with such discussions. That's a horrible thing to admit, seeing as I do trust her in general, but still, I don't know. Another friend is just starting a new job and doesn't really have much time about now. Another friend had a stroke a year or so back. He can listen really well, but he's in no position to talk much. I'm lucky at least he's still around, anyways. There are others, but there's just as many reasons why I can't talk to them either. In almost all of these cases, these are friends I don't get to hang out with much because of geographical distance. It's not like I can pop over ostensibly for a game of Yahtzee or chess and pour my heart out. My friend with the stroke seems to almost have to live in a prison inside his own mind. Sometimes I think I know how he must feel.
I'm not sure it helped to vent here. There's no one to tell me, "Jay, everything will be OK." I really need to hear that. I guess I'll have to wait, though, assuming it ever comes at all.
So, moving on...on deck, planning a trip to the Weird Al concert at the Woodstock Fair in CT in a week or two. Two shows plus a fair for an $8 gate fee--can't beat that deal. Considering an impromptu trip to Knoebels. Must get one more visit before the annual powwow in October. Also need to get to Great Escape. Still haven't been this year. Looking for at least a semi-rainy day to go and get some good rides on Comet. Also considering the GOCC event at Kennywood...another park I haven't been to this year...yikes I see the deadline is today...better consider quickly. I guess that's all for now. Esoteric and Nebulous is happy to welcome any BCFMOs that might be reading. Feel free to blaze into and light up whalomREMOVE@yahoo.com.
Welp, almost time to face the music. Assuming I don't go flying off a bridge between here and there, I'm going to see someone in a few hours that I'm terrified of seeing. We had the best possible friendship until I messed it up. Now I live in fear that it may be beyond repair. I also live in fear that people who aren't fond of me might be trying to influence my friend against me. I want it all back the way it was before I screwed up. I have such a hard time making really good friends...I cannot afford to lose any. So I go, and try to be "professional," and hope like hell I don't pass out from my fear. This is a horrible situation, but it needs to be fixed. I have faith it can be. Faith manages. I only hope I can, as well.
