Originally posted 08/02/08…my one and only lip-syncing performance on the web…I like to repost it now and then…this is pretty much Toastie in a nutshell…which reminds me of that scene in Austin Powers. And give me some more likes. Need validation. 9 likes and 1 dislike skews too much towards dislike.
Now, I’ve done it.
Generally, it would be a positive development to begin going through long-sacred clutter and getting rid of some of it. The problem is that much of it resonates far too deeply with me for it to be trashed. Specifically, I’m referring to piles of papers from school–mostly college, some high school, and even English papers from junior high. I’ll get to those in due time. I’m going to document this little exercise, as digitizing some of it make be the way to compromise between hoarding this stuff forever and getting out of my life.
Oh, but tonight, as I inched closer to the end of these piles, I came upon the infamous high school yearbook.
And I did what no 35-year-old should do. I looked at the front and back covers, and the edge-to-edge signatures and niceties of my classmates. There are stunningly sweet words from the most unlikely people, who could’ve simply said, “Have a nice summer, and good luck!”
I haven’t gone through them all, but there’s one that both shatters and reassures my heart at the same time. She’s a now-married Facebook friend. (Whom do I know who’s my age and NOT married?) She’s among the great many Facebook friends I have whom I don’t allow to see my links to my blog. When I feel I’ll either scare someway away, or spoil the generally-favorable opinion of someone who’s an acquaintance, or I can’t bearing to know what someone may think of the inevitable baring of my soul, they’re relegated to seeing just the basic info and the occasional totally harmless post. (I don’t revise these lists of my often, so take no offense if you are reading this blog but don’t see its link in Facebook.)
I came close to posting something devastating that I had written back in college, but I slept on it last night, and no longer felt the pull to publish it today. I think I feel the same about these yearbook comments.
This chore is opening up a hundred old wounds. Damaged relationships. Desired relationships that never came to be. Academic aspirations that faded out of my grasp. Deflating mediocrity displayed time and time again.
This is an exorbitant price to pay for cleaning off the dining room table.
Don’t write an ex-girlfriend to see how she’s doing, and explicitly ask about the “great guy” she mentioned last year when you last exchanged emails. Don’t do this when you KNOW that you’re going to be shattered when she tells you that she’s engaged to marry him later this year.
Also, don’t then look up your ex-girlfriend on theknot.com, even if you are going to find her and her fiancé’s entry password-protected so that you can’t actually read the syrupy how-they-met story or how-he-proposed story.
Because you’re still going to learn the fiancé’s name, and you’re going to go search Flickr for their first names together, and since one has a fairly uncommon name, you’re going to actually find pictures of them. And the pictures are going to belong to the Flickr account of a wedding photographer, who takes extremely romantic photos of couples for the purpose of engagement announcements meant to makes families and friends of the couples gush with joy.
Don’t do any of this.
The most agonizing aspect of my life is not being on dialysis.
It’s not PKD discomfort.
It’s not an unfulfilling career.
It’s not a hopelessly disheveled home.
It’s not elusive financial security.
The most agonizing aspect of my life is that I am alone, and I recognized many years ago that I was not going to have a successful journey through this life if I remained alone. My most important objective for as long as I can remember was to find a girl to shower with adoration, who would accept my flaws and somehow love me back. I am reducing this goal to a hokey cliché. I think I could’ve said this more elegantly ten or fifteen years ago.
Someone’s going to tell me that I’ll meet someone when “the time is right”. Someone’s going to tell me some drivel about needing to be okay with myself before I can find someone else. Someone’s going to tell me to focus on my health, that I shouldn’t worry so much about other matters.
Life is so damn fleeting, to use another hokey cliché (well, hokey if I don’t throw the “damn” in there). It’s already March. I’ve already been on dialysis for six months. All I have accomplished in the past six months is surviving dialysis. I’ve got to do a lot better than that. I really don’t feel like I’ve done anything productive since my February 2008 kidney stone that led to an annoying preoccupation with health health issues that’s been pretty much non-stop since. But “annoying” is really all that’s it’s been. These health issues should NOT be precluding me from HAVING A LIFE. (caps lock time). I CANNOT AFFORD FOR THESE HEALTH ISSUES TO GET IN THE WAY OF ANYTHING. TIME WILL JUST VANISH BEFORE ME. TIME DOESN’T CARE IF I’LL BE HARD-PRESSED TO ACCOMPLISH GOALS UNTIL I CAN GET MYSELF A NEW KIDNEY.
So the #1 goal is still to meet someone. But I don’t do any activities that allow me to meet anyone new. I am part of the 24/7 party that is Match.com, but I am almost completely passive on it. I’m a wreck whenever I do try to communicate with anyone. I can’t even answer the question. “What do you enjoy doing,” because I don’t have any clue anymore, because I DON’T DO ANYTHING.
The best part of my week is on a Saturday or Sunday morning when I stay in bed, getting far more sleep than I need, because everytime I wake up, I see my CAT curled up next to me, and I feel a complete lack of stress and sense of comfort lying NEXT TO MY CAT. And that keeps me in bed until noon or later. A Google search of “pathetic” ought to come right to this post and to this very paragraph.
I’m off on a bit of tangent now, am I not? I know this whole entry is completely unsuitable for publication, given that I’m horrified to think of what some who read this will make of this. And then I’m reminded of a recent quote I read.
Low self-esteem involves imagining the worst that other people can think about you.
– Roger Ebert
Apparently, chick digs confidence, but it’s easy to see why they don’t dig me, considering I can never, even more a short while, block out any thoughts of what others are thinking of me. Just a for a day, or a week, I’d love to be consumed with the delusion of my own greatness. I’d just like to see what that’s like.
Being “authentic”, which is a nice way that some have referred to my addictive self-deprecation and inability to feign positivity, hasn’t yielded beneficial results.
Comments are really off on this entry. I say I’ll do that sometimes, but I forget. Can’t stop FB comments, I suppose. I don’t have the balls to make this a two-way conversation. This was just my therapy for the evening.
Because I actually like this version of Toastie…
(circa August 2008)
This a crude rendering of a post written on my iPhone at 2:17am—Pacific Time. Yes, I’m 2400 miles from home. I have my reasons for not disclosing my travels. My point in writing now is to declare that upon my return to my dodgy life back in NC on Tuesday, the status quo will be obliterated. I must make changes. I’m not sure what these changes will be, but they must come to fruition. My life must cease to feel like it is spinning around a drain. I’m not sure what good this vey awkward public pronouncement will do.
I need all the baggage to make itself scarce. I need to rise up all the crapitude I feel so much of the time. I must.
No comments please on Facebook. I’m venting to the world, yes, but I’ve got to figure this all out on my own.
Ps–missing one dialysis session will not kill me
Enough games, like that “written sometime in the last 20 years” crap…
Just slightly censored…
I should write more, so ——- —- —— ———- —‘- —- — ——-. But this is sudden. I just could foresee it, that’s all. And I know the only remedy…—- —– — –. — ——- – —— ——- (&$#^ social networking apps —- —- — —– — — legitimate ——–), I — —– — myself. I should be —– — ——- —— initiative and ——– — — — ———. In 2008, I’ve —- —— ———–. It’s just about always failing, and it feels like shit when it happens.
B—— ——s…tried and failed…
-r—— —-r—- ————-…tried and failed…
Assorted ——– stuff…tried and failed…
Assorted ——— — events…tried and failed..
—–.com — — ——— time…tried and failed…
P—- —-s…tried and failed…
D—– —t —-s…tried and failed…
D—– —s stuff…tried and failed…
——— people —- and —– — ——–…tried and failed…