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May. 17th, 2005 @ 12:54 pm
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Many things have happened since my last update.
I've wanted to see VNV Nation play again since the first show I saw, about three years ago. I didn't want to go alone, because of sentimental reasons -- that show was were L and I met. I knew if I went alone, she'd be there, with her new boyfriend. Ick.
But I still really wanted to go.
A friend of mine volunteered to go with me, so I bought tickets. She then cancelled, because she'd mis-judged the timing of her school finals.
We'll back up a bit.
A few weeks ago, I went to Nick's birthday party. Nick is the husband of Angela, to whom I sold my first iPod. Angela and I keep in touch, and she knew what had been happening with me, so she was determined to drag me into new and interesting social situations. I decided to go only at the literal last minute.
When I first arrived, I was fairly quiet, and lurked around without saying much. Gradually I discovered interesting people to talk to, so I did.
I wasn't looking to meet anyone.
This pretty redhead sat down next to me, and within minutes, we were involved in an elaborate conversation about deserts, comparisons between fantasy and sci-fi authors, and the impact of Kali on Western religions. Her name was Heather. We talked for an hour or two, and then I left, because I was very tired.
I kept thinking about the conversation, off and on, and realized that Heather would make a very interesting friend. At the least, we could swap books.
I bugged Angela for Heather's email address, and sent her a lot of the links I'd mentioned. She replied later in the week, and we soon had a date set for coffee.
By Tuesday, my original date for the VNV show had flaked. When I called Heather, I mentioned the show, and she immediately volunteered to go.
We met at a tavern in Midtown, early in the evening, and spent a few hours talking. I really liked the conversation -- it was wide-ranging, fast, and it flowed well.
The VNV show was absolutely fantastic. Talking about the show isn't the point of this post, but in short, it was very energetic, and the lead singer, Ronan Harris, had an excellent stage presence. Heather had never heard VNV before, and is now a huge fan.
After the show, we went back to the tavern to get Heather's car. We ended up talking until after 3AM, until I dragged myself away and to home.
We met again on Thursday night, first having some passably-good Indian food, and then spending several hours talking at a coffee shop. Again I was unable to get to bed until 3AM. The conversation was so rich, and Heather was so interesting (and yeah, flatteringly interested in me), that it was very hard to go home.
She came to my house on Friday, and didn't leave until early Saturday morning. I didn't mean for any of this to happen, but ... I think it will be ok. It's still fairly confusing, and very new. I know it's bad to compare one girl to another, but... she seems so much more interested in me than L. She pays attention and has some very deep insights.
I hope this works out. I really do like her. |
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After ten years, I've broken the 200lb barrier. That's right, I'm 199 today (from 226).
How? It's mainly my soon-to-be-patented "Put Down The Fucking Donut" diet, in which I put down the fucking donut. Part of it could be the "Break-up Diet", but I've also been concentrating on not eating like a fat slob -- limiting portion sizes, no junk food, no candy, no snacks, no sodas.
I'm running a mile a day, so long as "running" is a word that means "walking for a bit, running for about 2 minutes, almost passing out and wanting to puke, staggering for another few minutes, repeat."
This month I'll be starting serious heart-rate training, in which I obsess over my meat puppet's stats with the giddy glee of an ex-RC5 junkie. If I can drop another ten pounds or so (or just get off my ass and GO), I'll join a local gym. |
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Loss
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May. 6th, 2005 @ 01:12 pm
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The saddest part of losing someone, whether by break-up, distance, or death, is that there are always parts of you that don't seem to get it. There are parts that seem to have no notice that anything has changed.
Today, drinking mocha at Starbucks, reading a book, I had this almost-subconscious impression of something missing. Something I had forgotten. After a few minutes the thought became insistent enough that I noticed it, and at that point, it became fully-formed: I was waiting for someone to return from the restroom, or the bar, or outside, and sit down next to me. This ghost, this absence, was the peripherally-viewed figure for whom I was waiting. It took me a few moments to realize that no, nobody was coming back.
I can't count the mornings I've woken up and felt her near me, while I was half-asleep.
It's fading. It takes time. |
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Damn
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May. 5th, 2005 @ 10:40 am
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So I now have an extra ticket to the VNV Nation concert. I still want to go very much, but I don't think I'll be able to go alone. The last time VNV played in Atlanta was the day we met. I'm doing better, but it's best not to tempt the snakes. |
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April is gone.
There's something rotten about this time of the year for me. Two years ago I lost my job, a year ago the entire heating/cooling system died, costing me $4k, and this year, well, you know.
April has taught me that I can indeed cook for myself, and cook quite well. It's also taught me that I can live in solitude, that I can withstand the weight of the echoes, and that I can deal with all of this. I've found that I can keep busy, and work on my house, and work in the yard, and most importantly, I can forget.
I'm still not whole, but I can feel the pieces settling, melting together into some new stained-glass window. I don't know what the view will be like, this new window to my soul, but I suspect it will not be the same as the last. |
| » Leash |
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I'm such a slut for genius.
May. 1st, 2005 @ 12:02 am
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| » Armor |
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I've thought some about Nyx's post from a few days ago:
it makes me shudder, over and over again, in fear. how would you know if anyone else you're with has this secret time bomb, the essential dishonesty which doesn't say "I don't love you" - but "I'm going to drain your resources and crumple your emotions while I figure out who I do love"? jesus fuck! why would you lie?
Plate mail is heavy. I don't want to go through the rest of my life dragging that burden around. Part of the risks of love is losing it; that's why finding it is so special, and so important.
I could shield myself with bitterness, or with hate, or with apathy. I'm sure it would hurt a lot less. But I don't want to. When I do that, the bastards have won.
Fuck them.
They can't have this part of me. Or this. Or this.
Every woman could be the new liar, the eater of souls, black Kali, come for my still-beating heart.
I refuse to live in fear.
Apr. 29th, 2005 @ 06:49 pm
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| » Cooking |
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I've been forcing myself to cook every night of the week, except for Thursdays when I go out with friends.
Tonight's "Sicilian-Style Sardine Pasta" turned out dryer than I like, but it was actually pretty good. Frightening, but good. I'm still terribly proud of the Butter Chicken I made Monday night -- it was fairly difficult [for me] to make, and it turned out to be awesome.
Maybe I'll post some recipes.
Apr. 26th, 2005 @ 09:33 pm
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| » Apt |
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An apt quote:
"Having sex with a goth chick is like having a hot air balloon full of the audio from all the Fragmaster Mp3's ever done, then walking up to the balloon and poking it with a pin, then slowly they all start leaking out, playing at the same time, then the hole gets bigger and bigger until it becomes this cacophony of madness and livejournal insanity and utter gibberish and it just becomes louder and more and more dense and no matter how fast you run the balloon keeps following you and following you until you just cant take it any more. And then you realize that unlike a hot air baloon full of fragmaster, a goth chick will never run out of air."
Apr. 26th, 2005 @ 01:52 pm
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| » Getting Better |
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Four weeks, and I feel like I'm getting better. Like I'm getting over a cold, the flu. I find it funny in a way, because I thought I was getting better last week, yet when I look back I can see how broken I was.
I hate being broken. I don't feel quite so shattered now; only sore, a low deep ache like a few weeks after a surgery.
In the first few weeks, I deleted everything. Photos, logs, everything. (Of course I backed them all up to a DVD that I sealed into an envelope and packed into a box in the garage). It's a lot easier to forget, to heal, when you don't have constant reminders lying around.
The strangest thing for me now is that it honestly hurts a lot less than I thought it would. When a similar thing happened to me about five years ago, I was devastated -- and stayed that way for two years. This time, I don't feel that way. I feel more sad, but less angry.
Maybe I'm getting used to this.
Apr. 25th, 2005 @ 08:03 am
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