Miscellaneous Mental Musings of an Emerging Artist
Got a lot in my head right now, and I think it’s going to go into this entry. August 27, we bring you yet another chapter from the modern epic of random thought. Take your seats please and do not unwrap candy.
In various states and qualities of pain right now, although I’m not really complaining, because I’m feeling like I’m in one of those places where pain is one of those things that reminds you you’re alive, which is Good. Normally, I think you have to be a Special Forces Operator to get this sort of psychosis. My way involves less chance for combat damage. Take that, Delta Force.
Turns out that my tooth problems are really bad. I will require a root canal this Friday, so it seems, on either one tooth or two adjacent ones. While I have never had a root canal, there is a reason that comedy writers enjoy using it as a quick-and-dirty synonym for Utter Unpleasantness–eg, “Take my bratty niece to Chuck E. Cheese’s? I’d sooner have multiple root canals!” (Laugh track explodes).
I am also very, very sore all over due to helping my girlfriend move into her brand new apartment yesterday, an activity consisting primarily of hauling heavy wooden things down three flights of stairs and up three different flights of stairs. Fabulous exercise. I’d recommend it highly, although it’s hard to schedule a semi-daily workout based entirely on helping people move.
Had a long, serious discussion with my sister about the ways in which I may have lost myself in my relationship with my girlfriend, which led to me saying some things to my girlfriend that I wish I’d put better, since putting them the way I did made me sound like an ass, and furthermore made it sound like I was preparing to dump her. The fact is, though, that I had become dangerously close to being swallowed up by the Bilal-and-Donna Show, and while I feel it’s one of the best shows currently not on any network, it’s important that we maintain our solo projects as well. Among the misdemeanors I have committed in recent weeks are in not being a better friend to Meagen, who I detailed my reconnection with earlier in this journal. Meagen is still having a hard time of recent things, or so my sister tells me, and the problem I’m slowly trying to deal with is that Meagen is somebody I used to be very much in love with. She is not, per se, an ex-girlfriend, but Donna nonetheless has concerns that I will find my way back to my previous feelings for Meagen, and as such I’ve been trying to find a way to maintain both relationships and hopefully integrate the two together. I do still care very much for Meagen, but I’m happily in love with Donna. And the two are not quite comfortable around each other, yet. Essentially, I’m trying to find a way to hang out with Meagen without raising red flags to Donna. And that’s a pain all its own.
Supplementary to that is trying simply to not be that loser who won’t do anything without clearing it with his girlfriend first.
Donna’s birthday is soon, and I’m trying to finish up a novel I started writing for her almost two years ago–it’s a hard-boiled pulp detective novel starring herself and I as the detective and femme fatale, as it were, except done entirely in the contexts of the English language (it started when she asked me to discover the definition of the word “vangelic”). My time is running short, and I’m painfully close to finishing it, but I don’t know if I can do it in time. I stopped visiting message boards online for awhile to give myself more time to write (and instead I’m doing my Live Journal entry).
So yes, pain and suffering, but in those thought-provoking ways. A toad the wet sprocket song features the fabulous, succinct lyric “Life is suffering / tee-hee, ha-ha,” which always meant to me that while life was pain, at least it was life at all, and that that realization is deserving of joy.
Unfortunately, it also brings up memories of another long-disconnected friend, Aaron, who was a big toad fan and who for a time I felt very close to, but to whom I no longer speak, and to whom I doubt I will speak again (and I’m sure he feels something similar).
 I’ve never been sure how to handle the issue of other people’s names in a blog. One friend of mine disguises people’s names (note to Danielle that you might find sickly amusing–my friend Alfred refers to me in his journal as “Wayne”). Danielle disguises nothing. I’ve played the pronoun games for awhile now, in part because of my girlfriend’s concern that the blog is a good way to encourage stalkers (to which I generally retort, “Honey, many blogs are a great way to DETER stalkers. Who’s going to want to stalk me after reading the off-kilter commentary and possible lone-gunman mentality of myself or others?”).
On the one hand, I see her point, and as such have changed her name, and possibly–but you’ll never know without actually knowing me–those of some others. On the other hand, it gets irritating to have to say “this friend” or “that friend” over and over again.
For a brief moment in this entry, I was considering assigning hip, post-modern code names to people in my life, but found it juvenile to read sentences like:
“Gallery and Spotlight are not comfortable with each other.” I felt like I was writing an old GI Joe episode.
I do wonder what would happen if somebody tried to insert themselves into my life based only on this journal. Would they pretend they knew me and only regurgitate things I’d written? Would they try to gamble that my own memory was so faulty that they could say: “Don’t you remember, it was July 17th, and you’d gone to blah blah blah to do blah blah. You were talking about how angry you felt. Oh, and I was there. I can’t believe you’ve forgotten me!”
Of course, I’ve recently discovered that I’m on the Friends list of somebody going by the handle Frozen Bitch (Hi, there. Nice to meet you), who I don’t believe I’ve met before, but whose journal I should read to make sure. She’s writing in Canada, but the only people I know in Canada are cousins and other relatives of mine.
Longest Footnote Ever.