Roommates who have really loud sex. All the time. I really don’t want to disrupt our otherwise great living situation but I’m about to my breaking point. It’s just gone beyond comical into ludicrous, annoying, overbearing and inconsiderate.
I know my blog has been completely Rock Band-centric lately but it’s what’s going on!
You haven’t truly experienced Rock Band until you’ve played with Jess singing “Sabotage” by the Beastie Boys. Awesome.
Several years ago I started basically eating healthy (following the South Beach plan) and dropped about 60lbs. I changed my lifestyle and eating habits, got in decent shape and have stayed there ever since. I would usually allow myself a “free for all” Friday where I could eat whatever I wanted but tied to stay healthy the rest of the week. Occasionally I would slip and start eating a little more crap, especially when I’m working on a film. Eating healthy on set is rough because you get bored and there’s always snacks around and they’re usually junk food.
If I found myself straying a little too far I would usually go extra strict for a week or two to reset my scales. Lately with all the emotional turmoil and depression, I feel like a drug addict who has fallen off the wagon. I haven’t really gained much (if any) weight back but I know I have to reel it in. I’m surviving on frozen pizzas, ice cream, and eating out. I still try be more healthy when I can, (such as choosing Schlotzky’s or Zen when eating out) but I’ve been pretty off the deep end. It’s just hard to care about eating healthy when there are more more important things wrong with your life but somehow I have to find that willpower again before I really start doing some damage.
Last night Iskra texted me to tell me that a bunch of people from the crew of a movie she’s working on were going out to a bar for a friend’s birthday. Since I knew this friend and many of the crew, I considered meeting them. At first I didn’t want to go. It’s hard for me to overcome my inertia and besides, I’m not big on bars, especially since I suspected this little hole in the wall would be one of the places that ignores the smoking band and let’s people smoke anyway. I decided to drop by for just a little while and say hi. I was right about the smoking but luckily it wasn’t too bad in there. One of the people on the crew is a guy named Jon who worked one the short films I’d just finished. We’d hit it off pretty well on the short film and both Larry and I thought he was a cool guy.
As soon as I walked in, he was the first one I saw and we immediately started talking. I don’t think we stopped for the next few hours. He’s also a musician so we talked at length and in depth about all things musical. From there things got deeper and more personal and by then of the night I found myself kind of surprised at the level of conversation I’d just had with someone that I didn’t know all that well. It was one of those cool genuine moments of connection that so rarely come along in life. It was a welcome respite. I think we be kindred spirits.
One of the worst side effects of my current life turmoil is that I feel almost completely unable to function. I seem to have absolutely no capacity for productivity. My attention span is non-existent. I’ve taken to sleeping in the living room on the couch because I need the TV on all night to keep my brain distracted enough to allow me to get even a few hours of sleep a night. This is, needless to say, not good for many reasons including the fact that I have various projects I need to get on with and I just can’t find the will or energy to do so. I seem to exist in a state of stasis in a grey and black void.
This is where I really love acting. Acting comes so easily to me and really makes me happy. I just walk on set, do my thing and then I’m done. I don’t have to worry about any of the preparations, logistics, etc., that come with my own projects. Sure I have to learn my lines and find my character and all that but comparatively, it seems so much easier. It’s the one thing that still works even in my current state of utter uselessness. Now if I could just get huge gobs of money to act in other people’s projects I’d be all set! Well at least more set than I am currently.
I have always been anti-smoking. My mom has smoked for pretty much my entire life and I always hated it. Hated the smell. Hated that I seem to be extra sensitive to smoke. The slightest whiff, even from quite some distance can choke me up. For example, tonight, several people were smoking on the balcony with the door open and I had to close my bedroom door because I could smell it. Of course there’s also the extreme amount of money smokers spend and the whole issue of supporting the evil tobacco companies and plenty of other rational arguments that could be made even if you’re one of the people who believes that there is no scientific evidence that smoking is linked to health problems, but that’s a whole other subject and I don’t want to start that debate here. My issue is more personal.
The part I don’t understand is my own vehement reaction to it. With everything going on with Jess, I think one of things that hurts the most is that she has started smoking again. She smoked before I knew her but had quit before we met. The fact that it even registers on my radar sounds ridiculous even to me. Why do I care so much? Why is it such a big deal? Why is it so important to me that my loved ones not smoke? I feel the same sense of hurt and distance when Larry occasionally smokes too. Now don’t get me wrong, I know that no one is doing it to be hurtful or anything. I just don’t understand why it means so much to me. The first time I saw jess light up on our balcony, let’s just say my reaction was completely and irrationally emotional. Maybe because of our separation my subconscious read more into it like because she knows how much it means to me maybe I stupidly saw it as a big final “fuck you” which, of course, I know it isn’t. I’m sure we all know the stupid things we can think when we’re emotional.
But the fact is is that is a big deal to me and I don’t know why. I don’t think it’s a judgmental thing, but admittedly I could be wrong. I don’t think any less of her for it and I don’t think I’m better than people who smoke. I really do think it’s more of a connection thing. It makes me feel distant and disconnected and I do legitimately worry about the health of the people I love and supporting the evil empires of tobacco (which ironically is a trait directly instilled in me by Jess). To me it feels like it comes from a place of caring and concern and not a confrontational or judgmental place. I value my connections with people and anything that interfers with those connections bothers me.
I just don’t understand why I feel the way I do. I don’t want it to interfere with my connection. Why can’t I just not care about it? When Larry smokes, I feel down. When Jess smokes it’s of a whole other order of magnitude. It feels like it almost hurts as much as our separation which should be ludicrous! I’m sure there must be some deep subconscious motivation at work here. I just can’t figure out what it is. I’m really trying to be better about this and at least not be judgmental or sanctimonious about my feelings. I’d love to find the root of this and find a way to overcome it.
When I’m at my lowest points (such as now) and have all these pessimistic negative feelings, I don’t know what to do with them. I decided that I don’t feel comfortable expressing them here for various reasons, I can’t talk to Jess about them, and talking to anyone else doesn’t seem to really help all that much. This makes being caught between the Scylla and Charybdis seem like an appealing vacation idea.
I’ve avoided making this entry for a long time. Why I’m not sure. I guess for one I didn’t really want to talk about it. Also I didn’t really know if it was just a temporary thing or not.
Jess and I are separated. Have been for a few weeks now. We’d talked long and hard about it before coming to this resolution. There was no one thing, no big blow up, no cheating, no drama, no single event that brought this on. I do however think that while it was mutual, it’s mostly me who broke it. I don’t like it, I’m not happy about it. I think the separation has had the opposite effect on each of us. It’s pushed me more toward wanting to work things out and pushed her further toward thinking that life apart is the way to go. She’s moved on, written “The End” and closed the book. I think we’ve both moved 180 degrees and completely swapped places. At least I can’t help but laugh at the karmic irony.
That is all. Just thought I should let anyone know who didn’t already. Thank you all in advance for the sentiments but I don’t need words of comfort, as there is none to be had. If anyone still reads this blog anyway, I know you all care. Thank you.
Previously on Cerebral Flotsam and Jetsam:
I am now locked up in a medical research facility until April 1.
I’m thinking I may not shave while I’m in here so I can emerge looking a little like Jack Bauer after his stint in a Chinese prison.
The following takes place between 3 P.M. and 4 P.M.
As Jess wrote here,I am now locked up in a medical research facility until April 1. After doing our taxes, both Larry and I suddenly realized we needed to do another Medical Research study to get some more cash influx and allow us to continue our lives as artists concentrating on our craft. We went to a screening, which consists of listening to someone meticulously read through the mound of paperwork for about an hour or more and then having a battery of tests performed such as urine collection, ECG, vital signs, having blood drawn, etc.