Merry Christmas, everyone!
First, credit where credit is due- the title comes courtesy of JOC. He would definitely want you to know that.
Mom and I just got back from midnight mass here in HMB. I've never attended mass here; there's only one church, and HMB is so provincial that I've always been a little skeptical about the likely quality of the mass. Since music is the part of church that I most enjoy, it's hard to find a church I will actually attend that's not in a big city, where there's enough local singing talent to put together decent music. So I was, as I said, skeptical going in.
Reality, it turns out, exceeded my expectations for how bad it would be. In order:
1) The pre-mass singing was, in a word, awful.
2) The pre-mass violinist was terrible in "Jesu Joy of Man's Desiring", which is one of my favorite pieces ever. She was pleasantly mediocre for "O Holy Night". She achieved her greatest consistency in being quite distinctly flat in absolutely every note she ever tried to play in the upper parts of the register.
3) The mass did not appear to be rehearsed; people at times looked like they weren't sure what came next, and the musical director at one point polled the audience to see if anyone knew a particular Spanish carol that they really wanted to sing, but didn't currently have anyone who really knew.
4) The homily was awful. And when it was finally, blissfully, over, one of the other priests got up and gave it again in Spanish. It was much better in Spanish, since I couldn't understand most of it, and that priest spoke a lot faster.
Moments ago, as I was airing this complaint to mom:
Mom: You should become a deacon. Then *you* could preach...
Me: Ma, they're not going to let ME be a deacon.
Mom: I was talking to Father McCabe about this, and he said they'd never let you be a deacon either. You think too radically. He did, however, think you could be a Jesuit. They like to think radically.
Me: Mom, I'm single like 4 months and already you're trying to recruit me for the priesthood???
Mom: Not ME. Father McCabe. He said since you just dumped another girl, you should think about it.
Me: OK, I admit my situation is grim, but it's not THAT grim. Jeez.
5) After communion, one of the associate priests had disappeared (his chair was now conspicuously empty). The main priest just sat in his chair quietly, and the entire congregation sat there looking at him. Minutes passed. "What the hell is he waiting for?" was what was going through my mind, when finally one of the other priests jumped up and went to the microphone to explain what was happening. In Spanish. Apparently, it was amusing.
Finally, the back door of the church opened, and in marched Santa Claus. Or, technically, the missing priest, now back from his quick costume change and ready to march up to the little manger yelling "Hallelujah! Christ is here!!" He then made a big show of bowing several times to the little toy Jesus, and then exited the way he came, again shouting "Hallelujah! Christ is here!!".
Once he was gone, the main priest explained that Santa represented commercial christmas, and that the symbolism of seeing him bow to the baby Jesus was important.
Oy vey.
But it's over now. If we do christmas in CA again, I'll take mom up to the city for midnight mass. I'm not doing weirdo mass here again.
Just 4 days until I board a plane bound for Belize. I so need to get away from here for awhile.
Anyway, Merry Christmas to all! And to all, a good night!
Friday, December 25, 2009
Monday, December 21, 2009
Things That Exist Only Because Women Exist, Part 1
Dryer sheets.
Seriously, no man would ever have invented such a thing.
I think of this because tonight, as I was throwing my laundry in the dryer, I was momentarily distressed to realize I had forgotten to throw in a dryer sheet. Prior to dating Keiko, I had never actually laid hands on a dryer sheet, but she felt very strongly about the importance of a fresh scent coming out of the dryer, and bought me some. Over the next year, I slowly evolved to the point where I am now- that it distresses me not to have a dryer sheet in my laundry.
This is what women do to you.
Nowadays, I leave the seat down, I at least strongly consider throwing away socks and underwear just because they have a few holes in them, I actually launder my sheets periodically, and I find myself distressed if I don't have dryer sheets.
I am but a shadow of a man anymore...
Seriously, no man would ever have invented such a thing.
I think of this because tonight, as I was throwing my laundry in the dryer, I was momentarily distressed to realize I had forgotten to throw in a dryer sheet. Prior to dating Keiko, I had never actually laid hands on a dryer sheet, but she felt very strongly about the importance of a fresh scent coming out of the dryer, and bought me some. Over the next year, I slowly evolved to the point where I am now- that it distresses me not to have a dryer sheet in my laundry.
This is what women do to you.
Nowadays, I leave the seat down, I at least strongly consider throwing away socks and underwear just because they have a few holes in them, I actually launder my sheets periodically, and I find myself distressed if I don't have dryer sheets.
I am but a shadow of a man anymore...
Friday, December 18, 2009
Thank goodness for moms
Mom arrives tomorrow for a week. As silly as I feel saying this, being a 37-year-old man and all, I really need her right now. It's not great for me to be alone in the house as much as I have been over the last couple of weeks. It will be great to hang out, have metaphysical conversations, and read books. Also, it's nice to come home to home-cooked curry, which is comfort food for me.
She leaves 12/27, and on 12/29 I leave for Miami, and then Belize. 6 days of tracking around the jungle with JJM and AC is exactly what I need- the chance to explore, be away from my life here, and remember what it's like to be have fun and be happy.
Then I have to come back and figure out how to really start building a life here. Lots to figure out where that's concerned.
But more on all that stuff later. Right now, thank goodness for mom...
She leaves 12/27, and on 12/29 I leave for Miami, and then Belize. 6 days of tracking around the jungle with JJM and AC is exactly what I need- the chance to explore, be away from my life here, and remember what it's like to be have fun and be happy.
Then I have to come back and figure out how to really start building a life here. Lots to figure out where that's concerned.
But more on all that stuff later. Right now, thank goodness for mom...
Sunday, December 13, 2009
The hearts that never played in tune...
That's a line from a song called "Aubrey", by Bread. It's a fantastic, if extremely mournful, song.
This is going to be one of those cathartic, mostly depressing posts. So, you might want to consider not reading it. I'd almost rather you didn't. Last time I wrote a post like this, L read it and strongly suggested I take it down, on the grounds that I shouldn't allow anyone to see me so emotionally stripped bare.
But the thing is, this blog is something I actually do for myself. I allow it to be publicly readable because my life is just wacky enough just often enough that I think it has the ability to amuse the small group of people who actually read it. And I've never regretted not taking down that previous post, because from time to time I read it to remind myself of what I was feeling then.
So, I'm writing another post like it tonight, to try and get out of myself the feelings that have left me all but paralyzed for the entire weekend. I need to get the feelings out, because I have to get up and function like a normal person tomorrow, but I want to remember through the years what I went through during this time.
And so this is it: your last chance, dear readers, to bail out before we do a deep dive into what LAJ once called "all my complicated glory". You've been warned.
Although Keiko and I broke up over 3 months ago, we have tried hard to be friends, and continued to gchat a little pretty much every day, and talk on the phone maybe once a week. That was a lot less communication than we used to have when we were dating, but both of us hate being single and I think were relying on each other to be a steady presence even as we confronted an uncertain future, and the need to start getting back out there and dating other people.
Recently, as Keiko started to get out there and start meeting people, (something markedly easier to do when you're 27, stunningly gorgeous, and in a town full of single twenty-somethings, than it is to do when you're 37, balding, and in a town full of software engineers), it had gotten harder for us. For me, it was hard to see her moving on, even though I knew it was the right thing for her. For her, I had only in the last month really done enough processing of our relationship to do the relationship post-mortem from my perspective, and that stuff was hard for her to hear. All of her relationship post-mortem stuff had come in the first month post-breakup, and although that stuff hadn't been easy for me to hear either, I'd listened to all of it and tried wherever I could to validate whatever she was feeling. I know the job I did was imperfect, but I think I did a reasonable job of that.
But the end result was that this last week we had a series of very hard conversations followed by a series of very painful emails. I was reminded anew of some important rules about email:
1) NEVER put in an email something that requires the reader to correctly supply complicated nuances of tone. What will happen, invariably, like a law of nature itself, is that the reader will hear in their mind that sequence of tones which is most directly *opposite* the ones you wanted them to hear.
2) When someone writes an email like that to YOU, remember that (1) as noted above, you are almost certainly getting the tones all wrong, and (2) whether you've got the tones right or wrong, NEVER respond to the email while you're still gripped by whatever emotions you're feeling. Slow it down. The emotional release you'll get from the quick response will last for the briefest of moments. The regret you'll feel about what you said, that you'll carry for the rest of your life.
In our last series of emails, both Keiko and I violated those rules repeatedly. As it all spiraled out of control, the last email she sent, late late Friday night, ended with "I think it'll be better for us if we were just exs who tried once and realized we didn't work as friends. I loved you passionately and I learned and grew so much from this relationship. Thank you."
I don't know if I've ever been so hurt by a couple brief sentences.
So, in clear violation of Rule 2, I wrote back that I was sad that she didn't want to be friends, but that I would leave her her space and wait 6 months before trying to give her a call to see how she's doing. Looking back, I wish I'd slowed it down more along the way. Who knows, we may well have come to this point anyway, but maybe not. We'll never know.
Now I confront the loss of Keiko a 2nd time. Losing her as a girlfriend hurt a lot, but losing her as a friend, confronting the possibility that we may never again share laughter or really know what's going on in each others' lives, I feel that loss a thousand times more strongly. In the end, we did not actually make great life partners for each other, for a number of different reasons, but we *did* actually make great companions for each other, and the loss of that companionship has left me, for the first time in my life, feeling deeply, deeply lonely.
I doubt that Keiko will ever read this post; I remember her saying a couple weeks ago that she couldn't read my blog anymore because it was just too painful for her. But Keiko, if you do end up reading this, this is what I would say to you now: I didn't do as good a job as I should have in the time I had you of loving and cherishing you as you do indeed deserve to be loved and cherished; I didn't communicate with you nearly as much as I should have, nor did I do enough work to understand your communication style; I think you looked to me for leadership in this relationship, and I totally abdicated that responsibility. That's a lot of different ways to have let you down, and I'm truly sorry for that. But I did grow to love you more deeply than I have ever loved another woman, and the 2 years we spent together are an important part of who I am, which means *you're* an important part of who I am. I will love and treasure that part to all the end of my days, and I hope that you will find it in your heart to do the same. And maybe, just maybe, one happy day 6 months or 6 years from now we will reconnect as friends, and once again find ourselves eager to share with each other what's going on in our lives. I know I will always be hoping for that.
Goodbye, my baby. May you one day very soon find the man who will love and cherish you as you deserve, and who will give you the simple, quiet family life that I know in your heart you desire. And through the years, if you should chance to think upon me, know that wherever I am, I am wishing you peace, love, and happiness...
Always.
This is going to be one of those cathartic, mostly depressing posts. So, you might want to consider not reading it. I'd almost rather you didn't. Last time I wrote a post like this, L read it and strongly suggested I take it down, on the grounds that I shouldn't allow anyone to see me so emotionally stripped bare.
But the thing is, this blog is something I actually do for myself. I allow it to be publicly readable because my life is just wacky enough just often enough that I think it has the ability to amuse the small group of people who actually read it. And I've never regretted not taking down that previous post, because from time to time I read it to remind myself of what I was feeling then.
So, I'm writing another post like it tonight, to try and get out of myself the feelings that have left me all but paralyzed for the entire weekend. I need to get the feelings out, because I have to get up and function like a normal person tomorrow, but I want to remember through the years what I went through during this time.
And so this is it: your last chance, dear readers, to bail out before we do a deep dive into what LAJ once called "all my complicated glory". You've been warned.
Although Keiko and I broke up over 3 months ago, we have tried hard to be friends, and continued to gchat a little pretty much every day, and talk on the phone maybe once a week. That was a lot less communication than we used to have when we were dating, but both of us hate being single and I think were relying on each other to be a steady presence even as we confronted an uncertain future, and the need to start getting back out there and dating other people.
Recently, as Keiko started to get out there and start meeting people, (something markedly easier to do when you're 27, stunningly gorgeous, and in a town full of single twenty-somethings, than it is to do when you're 37, balding, and in a town full of software engineers), it had gotten harder for us. For me, it was hard to see her moving on, even though I knew it was the right thing for her. For her, I had only in the last month really done enough processing of our relationship to do the relationship post-mortem from my perspective, and that stuff was hard for her to hear. All of her relationship post-mortem stuff had come in the first month post-breakup, and although that stuff hadn't been easy for me to hear either, I'd listened to all of it and tried wherever I could to validate whatever she was feeling. I know the job I did was imperfect, but I think I did a reasonable job of that.
But the end result was that this last week we had a series of very hard conversations followed by a series of very painful emails. I was reminded anew of some important rules about email:
1) NEVER put in an email something that requires the reader to correctly supply complicated nuances of tone. What will happen, invariably, like a law of nature itself, is that the reader will hear in their mind that sequence of tones which is most directly *opposite* the ones you wanted them to hear.
2) When someone writes an email like that to YOU, remember that (1) as noted above, you are almost certainly getting the tones all wrong, and (2) whether you've got the tones right or wrong, NEVER respond to the email while you're still gripped by whatever emotions you're feeling. Slow it down. The emotional release you'll get from the quick response will last for the briefest of moments. The regret you'll feel about what you said, that you'll carry for the rest of your life.
In our last series of emails, both Keiko and I violated those rules repeatedly. As it all spiraled out of control, the last email she sent, late late Friday night, ended with "I think it'll be better for us if we were just exs who tried once and realized we didn't work as friends. I loved you passionately and I learned and grew so much from this relationship. Thank you."
I don't know if I've ever been so hurt by a couple brief sentences.
So, in clear violation of Rule 2, I wrote back that I was sad that she didn't want to be friends, but that I would leave her her space and wait 6 months before trying to give her a call to see how she's doing. Looking back, I wish I'd slowed it down more along the way. Who knows, we may well have come to this point anyway, but maybe not. We'll never know.
Now I confront the loss of Keiko a 2nd time. Losing her as a girlfriend hurt a lot, but losing her as a friend, confronting the possibility that we may never again share laughter or really know what's going on in each others' lives, I feel that loss a thousand times more strongly. In the end, we did not actually make great life partners for each other, for a number of different reasons, but we *did* actually make great companions for each other, and the loss of that companionship has left me, for the first time in my life, feeling deeply, deeply lonely.
I doubt that Keiko will ever read this post; I remember her saying a couple weeks ago that she couldn't read my blog anymore because it was just too painful for her. But Keiko, if you do end up reading this, this is what I would say to you now: I didn't do as good a job as I should have in the time I had you of loving and cherishing you as you do indeed deserve to be loved and cherished; I didn't communicate with you nearly as much as I should have, nor did I do enough work to understand your communication style; I think you looked to me for leadership in this relationship, and I totally abdicated that responsibility. That's a lot of different ways to have let you down, and I'm truly sorry for that. But I did grow to love you more deeply than I have ever loved another woman, and the 2 years we spent together are an important part of who I am, which means *you're* an important part of who I am. I will love and treasure that part to all the end of my days, and I hope that you will find it in your heart to do the same. And maybe, just maybe, one happy day 6 months or 6 years from now we will reconnect as friends, and once again find ourselves eager to share with each other what's going on in our lives. I know I will always be hoping for that.
Goodbye, my baby. May you one day very soon find the man who will love and cherish you as you deserve, and who will give you the simple, quiet family life that I know in your heart you desire. And through the years, if you should chance to think upon me, know that wherever I am, I am wishing you peace, love, and happiness...
Always.
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