Wow, has it really been nearly three years since my last post? Time flies, I guess. Ugh, christ, I have no idea why I felt the need to interject that line. It's not like I have to justify my own absence and then return to my own private rambing site. I guess I just always feel the need to have an audience. And I don't anymore. At least not here. I still get the weekly visit count e-mail notification that pretty explicitly states that this little corner of the internet is once again all mine and completely private. Well, maybe not "once again" because from its inception it was never really private. In fact, I counted on the lack of privacy. It was some way for me to spill my guts and confide in people- to say things that were on my mind that I, for whatever reason, didn't feel like I could express to people in person. Is that any different now? Have I changed much? Well, honestly, I don't really expect anyone to come here. I suppose I still intend to use this page as a sort of confession, except I don't expect these words to ever be read by anyone. Maybe not EVER, but at least not any time soon. So, why am I back after my not-so-brief little hiatus? To tell the truth, the idea first came to me yesterday when I was thinking about the recent break-up of Chip and Laci, and how my last little fury of blogging was due to the whole drama-fiasco with them. I'm worried about both of them. Laci, I'm sure will be fine. Chip . . . I dunno. I guess while we've talked on and off over the last couple years, I still don't really have much of an idea of where Chip is at in his life, or what he does. It always seemed like his life and Laci's were so interconnected, that I can't really fathom him apart from her lately. Does he have a job? Does he have any close friends he can talk to? Why did they break up in the first place? I have a really strong urge to be a shoulder to lean on, or a listening ear, but something holds me back. Despite the time that's passed, I'm worried that my intentions will be misread. I'm starving. I need food before I go into work. Ohhhh, work . . . I really wonder how long I'm going to be able to keep this one . . .
Eric 3/27/2011 05:26:00 PM
Thursday, November 20, 2008
Re: Friendly Reminder Hi, Mr. Petersen,
Just a friendly reminder that, although a whole two weeks have passed, my memory has still not yet failed me, and, yes, I do remember that I still owe you $60 for the play tickets. I apologize for the apparant tardiness of your reimbursement, however, I have neither seen nor heard from you (aside from your friendly reminder) since that evening at the play. When we parted that evening, I assumed that when you said, "I'm sure we'll see each other again before 'The Odd Couple', that we would, indeed, enjoy each other's company at some point in the future, and I would then be able to give you the $60 of which you are owed. Thus, I was originally surprised when your one (and only) message since that night was not, in fact, to schedule another social outing, but to remind me of events which had happened a mere week prior. Of course, I should have brought cash with me that long ago Saturday with which to complete our transaction, but I had hoped that our evening would last a bit longer than it had, and I would have had the chance to repay you by purchasing a meal, or even by providing tickets for the Witching Hour production. Of course, I never mentioned such hopes and expectations to you. How silly of me.
Anyway, I also wish to apologize that I have let yet another whole week slide by without providing you with your dues. You see, I've had rehearsal nearly every night these past two weeks, and it makes it difficult to fit in an hour drive to and from Blair. Of course, there have been a few days I've had free, but I had the misfortune to come down with an illness, and then the very next day to be involved in a car accident which will cost me at least $2000 to repair my car. So, you see, I probably couldn't drive to Blair to reimburse you even if I wanted to. Why $2000, you ask? Well, that's because I'm so broke that I could only afford liability insurance for my car. Thus, since a slippery road combined with my failed breaks caused me to slide into the back of a truck, I am forced to cover all the damages to my vehicle. Yes, because of my tight financial situation, I get to pay even more money due to random misfortune! Haha!
Fear not, though, you will still get your $60. It is but a mere drop in the bucket compared to what I need to fix my car, afterall, and was owed a full week before my unfortunate accident. Besides, every cloud has a silver lining, and I found out that I am getting a raise at my place of employment, which works out to my earning an extra $60 a week! What a happy coincidence! Enough of a raise just to pay you! Haha!
So, again, I wanted to assure you that your current lack of $60 has not been through my negligence, my reluctance, or my forgetfulness. I assure you that the very next time I find myself in your presence, I will provide you with 60 US dollars, as was our agreement. I only hope that it's absence has not continued to cause you undue distress.
Actually, though . . . if you recall, at the coffee shop we went to after the play that Saturday evening so long ago, I actually purchased your beverage for you, so I believe that I actually owe you $58. Honestly, I'm really not sure how much it was, for I didn't realize we were keeping track, but since we are, just wanted to remind you of that. In fact your drink was probably a tad more expensive than the $2 i'm assuming, but, as I said, I wasn't really formally writing down prices, so, as a friend, I would like to give you the benefit of the doubt, and only ask for $2. If it was extra, don't worry about it: that's what friends are for. I wouldn't have paid for it in the first place if I expected you to repay me. Of course, as you've so kindly reminded me, we are keeping track and counting pennies of every transaction between us. So! I am happy to oblige!
Returning You Friendly Guesture In Kind, Eric
I've been in a bitchy mood today. I dunno why. Don't worry, I'm not enough of an ass to actually send the above e-mail. I'm only enough of an ass to think it, compose it, and then post it in a public blog.
Eric 11/20/2008 04:35:00 PM
Saturday, October 18, 2008
WoooooOOOOoooo
I'm really too dunrnk to be postnig . . .
But anyway . . .
How the fuck did bold get turned on?
ANYWAY~~
Yay for closure
Yay for beign able to put drama shuit behind you.
Laci, Chip, I have missed you so bad, you have no idea . . .
I'm not really as . . . over things . . . as I thought I was. I dunno. Isn't there supposed to be some series of stages for reacting to bad news? Like disbelief, then anger, then guilt, etc, etc? Fuck, I don't even know what order they go in, let alone where the hell I'm at. Whichever stage that's beyond anger, moves into self-deceptive apathy, which has recently broken and now at . . . at . . . ?
Fuckin' split personality shit is where it's at . . .
Let me back up.
. . .
At Shelterskelter auditions, when I heard that Laci was showing up, I started shaking so bad I couldn't fill out my fucking audition form. I haven't shaken so badly from rage since . . . Well, since the day at work when I found out Laci and Chip were making out backstage after my seduction scene with Chip, actually . . . Anyway, when she finally showed up, it was like I could only make myself look at her out of the corner of my eye. I could tell where she was in the room at all times, but I just couldn't make myself look AT her. Like the opposite poles of two magnets repelling each other.
It was in the middle of my mini fuck-she's-here-fuck-fuck-smash-her-face-fuck-fuckity-fuck fit that I noticed someone else walk into the room (also out of the corner of my eye). As a refelx, I looked up to see who it was. It was kind of weird, but when I looked at him, it was like my brain couldn't process what I was seeing. Time seemed to slow down and freeze while I tried to form the connections in my brain that would tell me what I was looking at.
I looked up. Our eyes met. Recognition finally kicked in. And I quickly forced my gaze down to the top of the table, my rage suddenly gone and replaced by intense confusion.
It was Chip.
It was like my brain went stupid. It just shut down. I went through my first bout of auditions in that confused haze, like I couldn't grasp what was going on around me. At least, after a while I was able to put them out of my mind, and I actually started enjoying the audition process.
After auditions were done, I said "hi" to some people I hadn't seen in a while: Monica from Acrobat and Chris E. We were just sitting there in the room, catching up, when Chip came up to the three of us and asked how we were all doing. It was another case where I saw him out of the corner of my eye, and I was just compelled to force my gaze to the floor. Chris and Monica responded, I didn't. My brain resumed it's muffled haze mode, and I didn't even recognize what there were saying. Whatever it was, it was very brief, and Chip walked away again.
Now, I'm probably inflating my own self importance, but Chip was only in one show with Chris, and their scenes were in totally opposite parts of the play, so I never really figured they'd talked or hung out much. As for Monica, she was helping out with Acrobat, but was one of those people Chip was polite to, but never really went out of his way to converse with.
So, considering the phone conversation we had a mere two weeks earlier when I had to hang up the phone b/c I couldn't stop crying, why would he choose to go out of his way to say hi to two people he's only had, at most, limited contact with, when I'm clearly already engaged in conversation with them?
As pissed as I was/am at him, I just can't believe he'd do something malicious like force his presence on me. I assume it was his way of "testing the waters", because he seemed to back off fairly quickly after not getting a response or so much as a glance up from the floor from me.
Anyway, he walked out, and I stayed behind to talk to people a bit more in the hopes that Chip and his whatever would be gone by the time I went to my car. Unfortunately they were hanging around outside as I left (smoking probably? It figures), so I just hurriedly passed the group, but turned around to say bye to Caitlin as she called out to me.
Needless to say, when neither of those two were at the Shelterskelter read-through, I was relieved, and even a bit smug. Served them right, I thought.
Well, fast forward to last week, and I was sitting around at rehearsal, waiting to rehearse something, and our stage manager Melissa was looking at this pamphlet advertising Fashion Week. Morbidly interested b/c I knew of Laci's involvement, I looked through it as well. Flipping through it, there were clothes ranging from beautiful to artsy, unwearable gimmicks. One picture in particular jumped out at me: a woman wearing nothing but boots. I distinctly remember thinking to myself: "gee, if they're trying to draw attention to the boots, they sure are failing . . ."
After flipping through and not seeing Laci's name on any of the pictures, I looked at the fine print and saw that her line, co-produced with Kevin (of Kevin and Brian fame, which I honestly don't remember if I blogged about THAT fiasco- but I think I have) was called Threaded. Flipping back through the booklet, guess which design from Threaded was featured?
You guessed it- the whore in boots. Looking at the picture a second time, I could tell from the mouth and jaw line that it was Laci, further fueling the "whore in boots" opinion. I mean, seriously, she's not showing off her design, she's showing off her body. It was slutty, and tasteless. If you want to show off boots, then take a picture of the fucking boots! You wanna make it sexy, then maybe show a little thigh- not a total fucking nude shot. Christ . . .
Anyway, other people in the area also commented that it looked like Laci, and that there sure was a lot of naked Laci going around lately, so they weren't even shocked by it anymore. I don't remember exactly what was said, but it was implied that Laci was in the late night show following Shelterskelter, Lighthouse Eternal.
Which were were all cautioned at auditons that it contains nudity . . .
HA! IT fucking FIGURES, right?
So that night spawned another wave of Laci loathing. I actually had a dream about her that very night. The details are fuzzy, but I think we happened across eachother on the sidewalk outside the Shelterbelt. We got in some sort of arguement, her mocking me, and me, unable to express my rage in words, I simply wrapped my fingers around her neck and started squeezing. I specifically remember thinking how easily my hands fit around her slender neck, and how easy it was to strangle her, and that, if I wanted to, I knew how easily it would be to just snap her neck. But I was enjoying the gradualness of the strangulation. Oddly, at the same time I was all, "oh my god, am I really dreaming about killing someone, and oh my god, am I enjoying it?" I was horrified at my lack of horror, rather than the actual act, if that makes any sense.
At some point Chip came out and started yelling at me and trying to get me off her, and all I did was laugh back and scream, "So THIS is what it takes to get a rise out of you? Not the one I wanted, but I'll take what I can get!!!"
And that's where the dream ended.
I still don't know if I should be horrified at myself, or to just shurg it off as a dream . . .
Getting better? Ha. I think not . . .
And finally, we come to this past Thursday. I showed up at rehearsal and found out that the posters for the show were done! They're really cool, despite the brightness of them. It's sort of a classical type of look. It's interesting. Anyway, the Shelterskelter promo posters weren't the only ones finished.
Lighthouse Eternal posters were done too.
Right smack on the cover, in all his chiseled, shirtless, muscular hotness was Chip . . .
Then I just got really pissed off. Some potent mixture of multi-tiered jealousy, cynical scoffing, hurt pride, and a pang of realizing that Karmic justice was not, in fact, done. Then, suddenly, the realization that I was going to be in close proximity to them with the coming tech week, and then with the run of the show, my nerves were shot, and the pissed-offness mellowed out to another numb haze.
Rehearsal ran late, so I was still there when LE people started trickling in. Anna, my wife in my 2nd scene, gave me this floofy thing and had my put it on like a dress. I was this red, feathery thing, and I put it on an paraded around in it being goofy. In the middle of that, the door opened, and when I saw a girl with platinum blonde hair and a short guy with dark hair walk in with her, my blood froze. Someone in my group said something, and the other people laughed, so I lauged too. But it felt hollow, so I tried to laugh harder, and it felt even more hollow. I dunno. I just had this desperate need to shut out the fact of their arrival. I needed to shut it out and at the same time appear to be preoccupied until they went into another room.
I honestly didn't even see their faces. I saw the tops of their heads and shifted my vision elsewhere, all the while tracking them out of the corner of my eye. Almost at the height of my forced, fake laughter, they walked past me.
Laci reached out, and stroked my shoulder with her finger. "Hey, Eric" she said. I froze, unresponsive, and she walked on.
I wanted to break down bawling right there. It was everything I could do not to race out of the building with tears streaming down my face.
She touched me. She said my name. In a . . . not "timid", maybe a cautious tone would be the best way to describe it. But whatever it was, it wasn't spiteful. Not prideful. Not antagonistic. Not bitter. Not resentful.
It was warm.
Half of me wanted to break down right there. The other half wanted me to turn around and grab her and hold her and apologize and just make everything RIGHT again. Go back to what it was like when we were friends. When we cared about eachother.
Both halves were firmly resisted. Soon after, Anna and I did our scene, and I left the building without seeing the two of them again, corner of my eye or otherwise.
So, what the fuck? I'm so conflicted right now. Part of me is as full of rage about it all as I've ever been. A few hours after the encounter at the theatre, I was day dreaming about how I should've turned around, ripped her finger off my shoulder and snapped it off her hand.
Last month was my 25th birthday. When I woke up in the morning, I took a shower. I was really upset that morning. My fucking birthday started with me being depressed that I wasn't going to see Chip on my birthday. I sat down in the shower, wishing, hoping, and praying that he and/or Laci would make some guesture on my birthday. Maybe a phone call, or a text, or an e-mail wishing me a happy birthday. Something. Anything. If they did, then I resolved that it would make everything ok. If they wished me a happy birthday, I'd forgive them and start things anew. I checked my phone and my e-mail religiously that day. While I got several well-wishes from friends, none of them were from Chip or Laci. To be honest, I actually had a really good time with the people I was with that day, and it was still a really nice birthday.
But the very next day I deleted the both of them from my cell phone. I couldn't stand scrolling past their numbers in my contact list when trying to call other people. I didn't want to be reminded of them every time I wanted to use my phone.
A few weeks ago, my friend Sirenia on FFXI showed me a video of a Quebecian comic. I thought it was really funny, so I looked at some of this guy's other videos (Jon LaJoie, if you're interested, he's hilarious). Anyway, one of his music videos reminded me so much of Chip, that I HAD to show it to him. It was bugging me for 3 days before I finally broke down and e-mailed Chip the link to the video. I didn't say anything (not even explaining why I was sending it) just sent the link. A few days later, he responed thanking me and saying that it "cracked him up".
Then, last week was his 35th b-day, and again, I was depressed because of how things are. Fuck, I had a present picked out for him months ago- In Bruge. I just know it's exactly his kind of movie. I know he'd really like it. And it hurt really fucking bad that I couldn't get it for him any longer. At the end of the day, I sent him a happy b-day e-mail. "Happy 35th motha-fucka", the inside joke that Jon LaJoie's video reminded me of. I couldn't bring myself to actually say anything more. It was actually the very next day when I ran into them at the theatre. I still haven't recieved a response.
So, I'm fucking torn. I know that I don't really have a say in who either of them date. I know that their being together doesn't really affect me. I know that they shouldn't make themselves unhappy to satisfy me.
I also know that Chip specifically cancelled our workouts because he felt that they interfered with his time with Laci. He broke a commitment to me because of this. Then he lied to me about it. That he lied to protect my feelings isn't really the issue. He was dishonest, and never apologized for it, or apologized for breaking a commitment he knew was extremely important to me. Hell, before we resumed working out again after the first break, I ASKED him if he thought we should continue working out, knowing my feelings for him, and he WANTED TO CONTINUE! HE WANTED TO! He straight up told me he didn't want us to stop working out. And BAM-fuckity-BAM a week and a half later, he 100% cancels them because he found some pussy.
Am I wrong in thinking that's a really shitty way to treat a friend? Am I wrong in wanting an apology or some sort of acknowledment that he fucked up the situation and made it much worse than it had to be? He could have been honest, told me what's going on. Maybe suggested cutting back on workouts instead of just canceling them altogether. Just something other than shutting me out and not bothering to try and fix what's broken.
And this doesn't even touch the whole leading me on to get to Laci thing. That's a whoooooooooooooooooole seperate issue that he needs to address and atone for.
Really, right now my opinion of Chip is just not very high. I once believed I was in love with him, but that's mostly gone now. He's just simply not the person I thought he was. He's weaker then I thought he was. He just can't be relied on for anything. At least nothing that you should be able to rely on a good friend for.
Even though all the romantic feelings have either died or withered beyond recognition, I still have these really strong feelings of . . . lust, I guess? Maybe part of it is the rage, but I don't even know if an apology from him will suffice any more. It's like I need to possess him. I need to have him. It's almost an obsession, but not quite. I just want to fuck his brains out, out of spite. Of revenge. Out of conquest, even. A "fuck you, I'm going to have you anyway" kind of thing. Like an angry sex session would put us on equal footing again. Maybe a masculine power/domination thing. I don't know. That type of thinking actually worries me more than my murder dreams. I guess because those thoughts are there during the day and I can't just blame my subconscious . . . ?
On a slightly related note, since early this summer, since discovering craigslist, I've been (almost obsessively) scanning the personals ads on it. Not because I'm looking for anything myself (although the pics are fun to look at sometimes), but because I've been checking to see if Chip has been looking for anything. It's stupid and crazy and paranoid, I know. Not only because it's such a far shot and a stretch, but, well, it's kind of stalker-ish, in a way (Christ, am I admitting I'm a stalker?) Anyway, last week I ran across some ad for a 34 year old "str8" guy who wanted to experiment with a guy for the first time. The pic included was from a distance, and he had a hat on with his head down, so the face wasn't very visible . . . but the body, the shirt, the shorts, even the barely visible jaw instantly made me think of Chip. Hell, the background of the pic could easily have been Neihardt park just up the hill from Dana. It's still a stretch, I know, but it just made me think . . . You know, it's amazing how many people just assumed that Chip and I fooled around. There were at least 3 specific occasions I can think of where I had to correct people about that.
Fuck, we recently got the Acrobat DVDs back. For a while I refused to watch them because I didn't want to have to face that particular scene. After being bugged by Eric to save a copy on my harddrive, I finally did watch some of it. And, of course, you can probably guess the first scene I skipped forward to . . . Holy fucking hell, half the pornos I've seen don't have kissing that passionate, I swear to God. I can WATCH him attacking my face with his mouth. And, of course, my reciprocation. It honestly seems excessive for the tone of the scene. It's supposed to be a genuine passionate kiss, but it looks like, well, a the intro to a fucking lust-driven porno. Christ . . .
Actually, just now I'm wondering what it looked like when Jeremy and I had our make-out scenes . . .
Meh, I'll look later. Back to my point.
I'm pretty much wrapped up on how I feel about Chip at this point. Laci is similar, but different, I guess. I also put a lot of trust in her, and she also lied to me and shut me out like Chip did. I guess the only difference is that she knew exactly how it would affect me. She knew first hand how much I felt for Chip and how much it was tearing me up. She knew better than anyone what her relationship with Chip would do to me. And, BAM, she went ahead and did it anyway. I keep wanting to call her a whore, but every time I think it, I realize that I don't really think of her as a whore so much as I just want to call her horrible names. If she had been honest about her feelings for him to begin with, things would not be so bad now. If she had come to me and explained what was going on with her, things would not be so bad now. If she had just acknowledged the fact that I was hurting, things would not be so bad now!
God, that's what all this comes down to: I want acknowledgement that they hurt me! I want them to apologize for the way they acted. I want them to explain to me that they didn't do this purposely to hurt me. I know they didn't, but it still means something to have them say it to me; to take that extra step, put forth that extra effort to protect a friend's feelings.
You know, it's always struck me that it's always the people that are the most similar, that grate on eachother the most. People that can be so alike, but the slight differences drive disporportionate wedges between them. I swear to god, Laci is like myself in a woman's body. And Chip is who I would probably be if I was straight. Our personality similarities are what bonded us from the beginning. It's also what makes this current situation so volatile. Their failings remind me of my own. Afterall, anything that Laci or Chip have "done" to me doesn't begin to match what I've put Eric through throughout this whole mess. I've treated him so badly the last few months; not on purpose, but out of neglect. Out of avoidance. I was never totally honest with him, and when I was, it was because he forced it out of me b/c the damage had already been done. I owe Eric so much more than Laci and Chip ever owed me, and I fucked up so much worse than they did. God, I don't know how Eric didn't listen to all those people and leave me.
Love, I guess. It's another one of those conflicting feelings- guilt and happiness- that I know someone loves me even when I put them through emotional hell.
I just don't know what was wrong with me. What IS wrong with me. I guess there are just times when you get so depressed that nothing and noone matters besides making yourself happy and digging out of that depression. I don't know whether I should be ashamed or justified in that.
I suppose, though, that the fact that I've genuinely expressed remorse and tried to fix things with the person I've hurt makes an important distinction between my own actions and those of Chip and Laci. I'm genuinely sorry for what I did.
I've been beating myself over the head for the past 24 hours or so because of this. Well, mostly last night, and now I'm not so much beating but sighing dejectedly at myself. No, my horrid conversational skills are nothing new, but I just have a more significant reason than usual to bemoan them.
Is "bemoan" a word? It sounds like it is.
I do that a lot. Use words that sound familiar, but I'm not totally sure if I'm making them up or not.
Does that make me stupid?
Anyway, my newest reason to hate myself: Ok, so a week ago I got randomly asked to do a play reading. At first I was all, "oh, ok, sure, no problem," thinking it was just some fun get-together kind of deal like what Eric has from time to time.
It's called Hippie Doctor, and it's essentially a coming of age play where the Hippie Doctor grows up a little bit. Along the way you get treated to a 60's history medley. It's a decent play. I actually like it better than when I first read it. It's well written and has some cool characters. Personally, I'm just not into hippies and the 60's, but the more I looked at it, the more I enjoyed it.
Well, ok, so now I'm back. I got disctracted last night, but I'm back to finish my story.
OK!
So, anyway, I then found out that I was playing the title character, the Hippie Doctor himself. I wasn't really worried about it, but it was a nice ego stroke. THEN I found out that this play was the guy's master's thesis project and that this is a formal reading/presentation that will determine if it gets produced at UNO . . .
And THAT got me a little worried. But also excited, knowing that it was actually something important and to know that I got handpicked for it.
Shit, sorry, I had a point to this. I'm not going to recount the entire experience b/c there's too much else to catch up on.
Anyway, the read-through went fairly well, and afterwards, a guy from the audience approached me. It turned out to be one of the directors at Shakespeare on the Green. He introduced himself and told me he thought I did a really good job at the reading. And as much as I love getting compliments, it always makes me feel a little self conscious. So he tried to strike up a conversation with me, and I could do was smile and nod and say "thanks". It wasn't until I had left the building that I realized that I never introduced MYSELF to HIM. I spent the entire ride home fretting about pissing off one of the most important people in Omaha theatre. Here is a guy who directs the highest attended theatre event in the state, directs Shakespeare, works with professional actors all the time, and he came to introduce himself to ME, and to give ME a compliment! And then I go and screw up a great chance to get on his good side by botching the whole conversation. I could've mentioned my experience at Shakespeare Camp, or talked about how I've volunteered for the festival for several years . . .
But, noooooo . . . I had to stand there nodding my head and smiling like a retard . . . So then I came home and described the experience to Eric, and his only comment was to jokingly agree with me that I was stupid . . .
No "oh, I'm sure he didn't think that" or a "wow, that's really cool that he thought you did a good job". Nothing. It hurt my feelings and I spent the rest of the evening sulking about it. I mean, I know he doesn't think highly of the SotG productions, but it's still a big thing to be recognized by such a big player in the Omaha theatre scene.
Then he kept asking what was wrong, and if he did anything to make me feel bad. And what was I supposed to say? "You failed to stroke my ego, so I'm going to be pissy"? Well, it wasn't exactly like that, but anything I would have said would have made my feelings seem petty and immature, so I just didn't say anything at all.
Ugh, I fucking hate that.
So, that was the original story I wanted to tell. Now that that's done, let's recap major crap that's happened since my last update:
Chip can go fuck himself. That whole situation blew up. At first it looked like it was going to get better. We started working out again and we got everything out in the open. Then, one week later, he decided that he wanted to date Laci and that since our workouts were taking up too much of his Laci time, that he was just going to end them completely. Laci can go fuck herself too. She can go fuck herself even more than Chip. What Chip did was just being a shitty friend. Laci's was a fucking betrayal of everything friendships stand for.
About a week after all this went down, I typed up an e-mail to Chip, just to get all my thoughts expressed so I didn't have to keep holding them in. I told him everything- when the situation started, how it started, why it started. I tried to articulate why I was upset, so that I just didn't look like some psycho who was flipping out (which is, apperantly how it looked to everyone. Well, maybe not everyone, but certainly to Chip and Eric, I guess). At the end, I apologized for making things difficult, and for not being honest before stuff blew up. Then I told him that I needed time away from him so I could get over him, and that I didn't want to see him or hear from him for the forseeable future. Anyway, after pouring my heart and soul into this e-mail, he finally responded 3 days later with, "I got your e-mail" . . .
Which, you know, it shouldn't surprise me. Half the reason why I was so mad was because he acted like he didn't care about me or my feelings, and his "response" only further proved that. I'll even admit that looking back on that e-mail, a lot of it was baiting him, to try and get some sort of reaction out of it. Well, it didn't work. Besides, I think I got all the answers I needed from him regardless.
Is it horrible of me to get a sort of morbid satisfaction that because of this whole situation, Chip now feels awkward doing Brigit shows? After all, he did piss off Jeremy too. Not to mention the fact that Laci wanted to try doing stuff at Brigit and now her double betrayal kind of makes that a bit unlikely as well. Not to mention that neither of them got cast in Shelterskelter. It's Karma, I swear.
Yet there's the fact that in alienating so many people by being together, it only serves to knit them even closer . . . But, well, fuck it. If being together was so fucking important, they had to shit all over their friendships, then they can have each other.
But, yeah, I'm in Shelterskelter this year. I'm in two of the skits. The first is called The Examiner, and is written by Aaron, who does stuff at BSB, and it's really cool. I actually had the first rehearsal this evening, and while I got a totally different interperetation from the one I originally had, I think the script is ten times cooler with the new interp. I'm afraid I might give too much away if I try and describe it . . . Hmmm . . . basically, I play The Examiner, in a sort of autopsy. It's basically a whole monologue to myself, and, wow, I'm excited about it. It's going to be so creepy!
The other show is a comedy called We Appear to Have Company. I'm the husband of a british couple who discover a clown in their house and try to figure out how to get rid of it. It's almost the total opposite of The Examiner in every way, so, again, it's something I'm excited about.
And now, just today, I found out that they want some of the actors to sing halloween themed songs between each of the skits. It's Scary-oke, get it? Haha! So, it looks like I'll be singing in a production for the first time since college~! I really really REALLY want to do The Horror of Out Love by Ludo- it's perfectly in my range, and it's sooooo creepy and atmospheric that it's PERFECT! It's just not on any karaoke discs, so unless I can figure out how to make my own, I won't be able to do it, and then I really don't know what I'll do. I'm still waiting to hear back from the shelterskelter guy about possibly making a karaoke disc by removing the vocals from the cd track. If nothing else, I can shell out the $40 to buy the computer program to do it. Ohhhh, it's going to be so fucking COOL!
Oh, and I'm still working! Yay! We're in the slowest part of the year, yet Syngenta is keeping me around! Woohoo! So I'll definitely have a job for probably the next year! Yay money!
Oh, and I've recently become a Clive Barker fanatic. I saw Midnight Meat Train, liked it, went out and bought the book of short stories that the movie was based on, and found a new favorite writer. That and Bradley Cooper in the movie is one of the sexiest men alive. Anyway, yeah, Clive Barker is really really good. I'd love to spend an entire post describing how great his writing is, but, well, I seem to be running out of steam.
Ok, yeah, I'm tired. I have work in the morning. I can't keep letting so much time go by between posts. There's always too much to post and do it all justice. But then again, I guess I really shouldn't feel such a compulsion to chronicle my life in a public blog. Yet the number of people who still read this can probably be counted on one hand.
I don't know what to do. I feel like every possible choice is the wrong one. I have no idea what's best for me in the long run.
The past couple days have been absolutely miserable. I can't get Chip, or my anger/frustration at him out of my head. Nothing holds my interest. I've been religiously checking and rechecking my e-mail and phone to see if he's left any messages. I'm going nuts to the point where I've just been laying in bed all day long, hoping to fall asleep so I don't have to think about the situation any more.
Of course, even sleep is betraying me; I'm literally dreaming about the little fuck. I had two seperate dreams involving him smoking or us fighting that I can vividly remember, and I don't commonly have vivid, memorable dreams.
So, being unconscious doesn't even distract me from this emotional hell.
After getting my phone fixed (replaced, actually, much to my annoyance, but that's another story), I had 5 seperate voicemails he left me for the past 2 days. Every single one was asking me if we were going to workout and asking me to let him know. The final one was him hoping to catch me on my way to work last night. He didn't say why- and it obviously wasn't about working out since he left the message after finishing his own workout.
Monday he sent me an e-mail asking the same thing. The e-mail, frankly, pissed me off because it was very formal in nature. He wanted to "verify" if we were working out, and could I please call him or respond to the email, and then signed it with his first and last name.
I didn't respond, even though Eric sent me an e-mail telling me I should- that I shouldn't let something like this dissolve a friendship.
I know I went into the reasons I'm so mad in my earlier post, and they all still stand. But now Chip is acting like nothing happened. There was no, "are you doing alright?" or "I'm sorry for upsetting you saturday" or anything like that. Just "are we working out still?" like it's entirely my fault if this falls through.
Fuck, is it?
Yeah, I know I'm taking the smoking thing more personally than I should. But he KNOWS how much it upsets me. Whether or not my being upset is rational, for him to completely disregard that, is, simply, not something a good friend would do. And, to top it off, to not acknowledge what happened, let alone offer an apology or try to talk about it.
I even told him the other week that if I could understand why he started again, I wouldn't be so upset about it. He still didn't say anything.
Last night at work, I had nothing to do but sit around and think some more, so I ended up responding to his e-mail. I basically said that I didn't know what to say to him, and that I was upset and didn't know what to do.
I sent that to his work e-mail at 3 am, so it was in his inbox by the time he got to work.
He didn't respond until 3 pm. All he said was, "Ok. Well, let me know if you want to start working out again."
That's it. That's all he had to say. No, "hey, why are you upset?" No "what do you mean? Can I help?" No "I'm sorry for upsetting you last Saturday." No, "You should stick to working out because you're doing really well so far." Just an "ok". And for some reason, it took him nearly a complete workday to respond with it.
What the fuck? Am I being unreasonable to expect him to have an actual opinion on something? Is it? Does he want me to workout with him? Does he think it's a good idea for me to continue working out? Is he mad that I'm upset with him? Is he annoyed or frustrated that I'm being so moody? Is he smoking again because he knows about my feelings for him and he's trying to drive me away?
What the fuck is it!? I need more to go off of than a casual dismissal of what I'm going through.
Either open the fucking door or slam it shut. Don't leave it cracked open, taunting me.
Burn the fucking bridge or put out the fire next to it so it doesn't ignite.
I'm so mad, I keep trying to think of new metaphors for the stupid situation.
When someone tells you they're confused and don't know what to to, you don't respond by telling them to figure it out by their fucking selves . . .
Really, is openness and honesty too much to ask for, even in a platonic friendship? That's what's so damn frustrating right now. Because my feelings for him are so different from his for me, I really don't know what my expectations should be. Am I frustrated because I'm not getting a connection that will never be there? Or do I actually deserve some sort of connection, and I'm pissed because I feel like I'm talking to a brick wall?
I want soooooo badly to e-mail him back and tell him to fuck off, what an idiot he is, and what an asshole he's been; that he can go to hell, and I hope I never see him again. You know, just to get a fucking reaction out of him. If he told me to go fuck myself, at least then I'd have some sort of validation for my anger, you know? At least I could say, "well, there ya go! He's a prick, and I really AM better off without him!".
I want soooooo badly to just tell him everything- to get it all out in the open. That I have really strong feelings for him and that those feelings are making me hyper-sensitive to everything he does, and that I don't know how to get them to stop except by avoiding him except that avoiding him causes me so much goddamned pain. Then he might understand. Then he might see and apologize and open up . . . and no, that's a fucking fairytail. I might as well say he'll look deep into my eyes and tell me he feels the same way and we'll to riding off into the fucking sunset.
Christ . . .
Ugh, you know all he would have to do is just tell me what to do, and I'd do it. A simply, "meet me for a workout" and I'd be there. A simple "I'm sorry for being an ass" and I'd forgive everything in a heartbeat. I'm that pathetic and eager to forget all this.
But he's not fucking giving me the slightest fucking reason to do so!!! Anything! I just need something from him so I know how to proceed. This fucking speculation and assumption is what caused this whole fucking mess to begin with.
Chip, just fucking TELL ME WHAT IS ON YOUR MIND!!! What do you want!? What do you care about!? Do you care about ANYTHING!? Any-fucking-thing around you? Do you care how dissappointed someone you recently described as one of your closest fucking friends is in what you're doing to yourself!? Do you care at all that your stupid-fuck decision is putting that supposedly close friend through fucking emotional hell? Do you!?!?
So, yeah . . . what the fuck do I do? Quite frankly, the idea of not working out and letting all the results I've gotten so far be for nothing, depresses me almost as much. Eric, Brian, Alex, and even Tiffany have said something about being willing to workout with me, but I honestly don't really think it would work out.
Do I just grit my teeth and ignore everything just so I can continue to work out?
Do I confess everything to him?
Do I avoid him completely until either he apologizes or my feelings fade away completely?
I don't fucking know. Each option includes awkwardness and frustration for sure, with the possibility for extreme awkwardness and hurt feelings. Each option leads to the potential final end to any sort of friendship we have.
Fuck, in situations like this, all I can do is pray. I don't do it all that much, but I have to believe that things will turn out for the best or I'll just go slash my fucking wrists.
So, God, which is it? What do I do? What was the point of this whole mess? What was I supposed to learn from falling for straight friend #4?
And how do I get out of this with my sanity intact?
Because I really can't afford anti-depressants or therapy right now . . .
Eric 7/02/2008 02:51:00 AM
Saturday, May 17, 2008
Memoirs of a GayShow
I actually started this blog about 2 months ago, after Acrobat finished up. I had started describing how much the project meant to me, everything that happened during the process, and how parts of it continued to haunt me and affect me.
Basically, an introspective reflection on the show and yadda yadda yadda.
I never finished it, and I don't think I ever will. I scrapped it halfway through, saved it as a draft on blogger, and never got around to it.
Why?
I'm probably the biggest fucking drama king around, I swear to god. Life since Acrobat has been a huge fucking mess. Let's go with a re-cap:
Chip started actually kissing me back during the Arthur/Paul seduction scene in Acrobat, and because of that, my warped little mind warped even further and actually imagined that I had a chance at being with him.
Infatuation/crush on Chip started to affect me very dramatically during the month Acrobat performed, but, in a way, actually helped fuel my portrayal of Arthur's moodiness.
Infatuation/crush started spreading doubts about my relationship with Eric.
Dobuts/infatuation lead to me releasing tension with Brian and Kevin.
Brian and Kevin go through a bad break-up, probably directly b/c of my actions.
Chip offers to workout with me so I can get into shape for the first time in my life. Thus, after Acrobat concludes, I was actually spending MORE time with Chip, furthering infatuation/crush/doubts.
And, basically, that whole mess has been brewing for 2 months leading to a lot of frustration, heartache, and guilt on my part. After a few failed attempts at a discussion, Eric and I finally got everything out in the open. We both want to work on things. I have no idea how, but at least we're on the same page that we don't want to leave each other.
After growing increasingly close, Chip recently decided to pick up smoking again, after nearly 2 years of quitting the habit. Anyone who knows me knows how much I despise smoking. After confronting him about it, and seeing how upset I was, he said he was trying to quit again. For about a week, he said he HAD quit . . . Then, just last night,we were at the season-end party for the Shelterbelt/Snap theater. Chip showed up about halfway through, and 5 minutes after arriving, he promptly lit up a ciggarette. I noticed, stormed over and asked him what the fuck he was doing. He shrugged it off flippantly, and I stormed out of the party.
Eric was standing right next to him when he did it. Why didn't he stop Chip? Why didn't he at least mention to Chip the fact that I would freak-the-fuck out when I saw him smoking after promising me he'd stop?
I've been livid ever since. I can't stop picturing the fucking embers of the fucking ciggarette in his fucking hand. I was sooooooo close to shoving him, ripping the ciggarette out of his hand, or punching him in the face and creating a huge scene in the middle of the party. I was so close that I honestly don't know how I got out of there without doing any of that. I don't know how I didn't storm back into the party to do all that, after I had already left. I really think I might have if Emily hadn't chased me outside to find out what was wrong.
Thank God for Emily.
Anyway, I'm done with Chip. I can't stand to be around that. It's not just the fact that I think smoking is vile and disgusting. It's not just the fact that he broke a promise to me and betrayed my trust. It's not just the fact that he blatantly didn't care about upsetting me by lighting up at the party.
My psyche has been in fucking knots ever since my feelings for him began. It's fucking up nearly every aspect of my life, and I can't continue to live with it. For the longest time I told myself that a friendship with him was more important, and that I could be happy with just that, and that losing that friendship would be unendurable.
Quite honestly dragging my heart along the ground, chasing after someone who clearly turned out to be a different person than I originally thought, is not worth it.
So, I'm done. I'm no longer going to meet him at the gym, which really pisses me off. I mean, I was doing so well! I've lost nearly 20 lbs in these past two months. I'm actually looking like I'm in shape, and getting better every week. We started a 12 week program he found, and we're only halfway through, and I'm not going to get to finish it because he's a fucking moron. And, well, I'm a fucking moron for loving him in the first place.
Goodbye getting in shape! Goodbye self-esteem and confidence! Goodbye ever being comfortable enough to actually be an actor! I've tried so many times to workout and get fit and every single time I've failed after a couple weeks. The only thing that kept me on track this time was that I would look forward to seeing Chip every fucking day. Spending one-on-one time with him was my reward for getting out to exercise.
Well, fuck that. I'm done. I'm going to go back to being fat old lard-ass Eric. I'm going to throw my own health out the window all because Chip is throwing out his.
Fucking hell . . .
This is my first time on night-shift here at work. I'm on it all this week, and I think next week as well, but I'm not sure; they don't have the schedule figured out yet. I got here tonight, and everything was so quiet. It was nice. I've been here for an hour, and nothing has come in yet. From the note Tiffany left, there's only one thing coming in at all tonight, so I've got plenty of time to blog and rant and read and listen to CDs.
And think . . .
I'm in a break from theater right now. The season is done, and the next one for BSB hasn't even been announced yet. I've been filling up my free time with workouts. I mean, THAT was my activity for the summer- working out. By the time the season started, I'd be in dramatically better shape, and I could cut back on work outs.
Well, that plan's all shot to hell now.
Oooooh, sample. Be right back.
And it was only a grind sample. Easy particle size analysis. Took 5 minutes. There should be one more grind sample in about an hour. Then a composite sample after that, which will actually require a GC analysis. Then when that's done, I issue the finished product ticket to be made with that particular millbase. And I really have no idea if the guys in the plant will get that far before I'm off at 4 am. Really, one more grind, and a millbase composite is pretty damn easy work. Even if I end up sticking around for the finished batch, it's a ridiculously easy night.
Lots of time to think . . .
You know, I've been sleeping and napping and escaping a lot to keep from doing that . . .
As far as escapist entertainment goes:
I've been falling behind in my books. I seem to buy far more than I actually make the time to read. Of course, with doing these easy night shifts, I'm anticiapting on catching up.
I swear to god . . . every movie or TV show I see just reminds me of my own fucked up relationship problems. So much so that I've been avoiding them as much as I can. Fuck, just last night Eric and I went over to Brian's after storming out of the party. We sat down and watched some friends. Every single fucking character on that show had some problem that directly fucking parallels my own life: Ross and Rachel were breaking up because even though they love each other, Ross slept with another woman. Chandler decided to pick up smoking again after promising the rest that he'd quit. Monica was dating a guy who was perfect for her in every single way, but she wasn't attracted to him and was feeling guilty like there was something wrong with her because of it. And Joey was in a play with a woman whom he had a kissing scene with. The kissing affected his co-star to the point where both Joey and her were clearly interested in each other, even though the actress was dating the fucking director!
Fucking amazing. I made them turn it off after that episode and we watched The Descent. Which, you know, ALSO has a theme of cheating and betrayal by a close friend.
With videogames, I finally have my Puppetmaster to 75, although once there, it just seems so . . . dissappointing. I tried to do a dungeon with it the other night, and I was really displeased with my performance. It was hard as fuck to actually keep my puppet alive. And when it WAS alive, it's damage was real shitty. And the amount of EXP needed to merit my PUP to the point where it IS useful is just really daunting. And it doesn't help at all that our internet is under some kind of virus attack that makes it disconnect every 5 minutes. I get kicked off so much that it makes it impossible to get anything done in FFXI.
I was playing Folklore for the PS3 we recently got. It's an action RPG, that's very interesting. I'm sure I'll get more into that now that our internet is shot.
Eric and I have started playing FFVI together. I really like playing through games with him. It's too bad that this is the last FF that you can actually play together with a friend. Well, we do still have Final Fantasy: Crystal Chronicles, I guess. Although so far there's no story in that to speak of, and we got out of it when Acrobat stuff started. So who knows when we'll get back into it.
Battlestar Galactica has no new episodes till 2009 . . . and it's fucking cruel . . .
Stargate SG-1 is so phenominally dissappointing. Just really not a well made show. The characters are boring and flat. The storyline has no connecting plots. All good ideas are crammed into a 45 minute episode instead of being explored and made interesting. After such amazing sci-fi shows like Firefly, Battlestar Galactica, and Farscape (all of which have really well developed characters right from the start), Stargate is an amazing let-down. I really hope it gets better . . .
Ugh, fuck. It's 11:30. I have 4 and a half hours left. Really, I don't have much else to talk about except to go into detail about Chip, and I'm trying as hard as I can to get him out of my head. This whole stupid situation is putting Eric through hell too. I hate that because it's 100% my fault and I really don't know what I can do about it. He doesn't deserve this shit.
Ok, fuck thinking and reflection. I'm going to go read my book, Wastelands. It's a collection of short stories about the Apocalypse, and life after it- such a fitting parallel to how I feel in my own life right now.
It's like everything I've known for the past 3 years is crumbling around me and I'm about to start all over again . . .
Eric 5/17/2008 01:25:00 PM
