Cerebral Flotsam And Jetsam - My Mental Maelstrom

10
Jan
2011
17:05

It’s a Shame That We’re the Weird Ones

As most of you know, my ex-wife (Jess) and I are still really good friends. In fact I’m also friends with her boyfriend John who is pure awesome and absolutely perfect for Jess. I am, in fact, friends or at least friendly acquaintances with a large portion of my exes. The few that I’m not aren’t because of any bad blood, I just don’t know where they are or they lead insanely busy lives and even their families don’t hear from them much, or other such circumstances.

I find it sad that so many people seem taken aback that I such good friends with my ex(es). I can understand why in a way but that’s a whole other subject. Most relationships end up being somewhat dysfunctional, end badly, or at least end unevenly with one person hurt by the other. Last October when I would tell people “I’m going to visit my ex and her boyfriend” many times I’d get that look, that kind of polite vacant smile that says “Oh, okay…interesting…whatever works for you”.

At least the three people involved (Me, Jess and John) are all cool with it. I not only feel lucky to have such a great friendship with someone who obviously meant (and means) a lot to me, but feel very lucky that she’s with someone who I love and who has no discomfort (at least as far as I know) with me or my friendship with Jess.

One of the things that has been hardest about my divorce is when I realize things like the fact that I’ll probably never see many of Jess’s family members ever again (her family is all in England). Or many of the mutual friends in England that I met through her. It’s not that couldn’t if I wanted to, it’s just that it probably won’t ever happen. I love all those people. It’s sad. The mummos and daddos, the grandmas and grandpas, the Flons and Helens, the mUrts and Delles, the Scotts and Caths, the fun friends and co-workers of these people who we met, cavorted around Liverpool with, went to bachelor/bachlorette parties with, the Clares, Richards, Maxs, Nells, of the world and so many more.

I was talking to my friend Staci about this last night. About how, sure I could and hopefully will go back to England someday but even then, I just don’t think I could go back to Leek by myself just for a visit. London is one thing. I mean it’s London and there’s so much more there to be had than just my old memories. But Leek or Stoke are so small that it would just be weird to be there on my own, visiting Jess’s family without Jess and John there.

This led me to a simultaneously awesome and kind of sad thought. I thought “Oh my god! Visiting England with Jess and John would be AWESOME!” It reminded me of when my cousin Casey came to England with me and Jess. Only this time, it would be me visiting with Jess and John. It would be more cool people and fun than the universe could probably tolerate and very well might cause some kind of tear in the space/time continuum. For me, it would be just like going on a cool trip with Casey, or Greg or any of my amazing friends. However then reality hit me that this would far too weird for the rest of the world. Not that I really care about what the rest of the world thinks but I would be really self-conscious about being a “third wheel” or some lingering ghost from the past that won’t go away. I’m sure John would like his own future with Jess and vice versa. And again, it came back around to the same initial point. It’s sad to me that there’s these extenuating circumstances all because of a shared history. Circumstances that would not apply to any other friend. They didn’t apply to Casey when he came with us. They wouldn’t apply to any other friends but in our world, there has to be some “weirdness” about it because I’m an ex. It’s a shame that Jess and I are the “weird” ones because we remain close. Because people find it too hard to believe that’s possible without some hidden drama or something not being at face value.

More than anything, it’s a shame that I at least in part, put these shackles on myself. Not just with Jess and John. Several times, my friend Greg has invited me along on trips with him and Becky and I think “I can’t go on a trip with you and your girlfriend!” Total third wheel syndrome! Huh. It also only just occurred to me that none of this would be an issue if it was me and a girlfriend in the equation instead of just me. Interesting.

29
Dec
2010
3:45

2010 State of the Eaf Address

I figure my birthday was a good day for a general update and some random odds and ends. I have bullet pointed the subjects so you can skip whatever you’re not interested in.

  • 2010 passed amazingly fast to me. Overall it was a year covered in kind of a grey haze of funk. There was some good and not really anything too terrible but for some reason I just spent the year in a kind of perpetual state of “meh.” A lot of emotional stuff really weighing on me and just trying to figure my life and myself out. Many times of numbness or a kind of general down feeling. I find that as I get older and accrue more experiences, more memories and just more life in general, that I feel the weight of it all. Memories and experiences have weight. And the more you accrue the heavier it gets. Generally I’m a pretty happy-go-lucky optimist so this was strange year.
    *combs my hair over my eyes and looks all emo*
    I don’t feel like really did much this year. I sort of feel like I just coasted through it. I can’t believe it’s over but I’m glad to see it go! Onward!
  • I seem to have completely lost my yoga mojo. I started yoga a little over a year ago and loved it. I felt a steady improvement although not as much improvement as I thought I would achieve. That’s alright, every body is an individual. Then a few months ago I felt like my practice went backward. Suddenly I couldn’t seem to do things I used to be able to do. One theory I have is that I started pushing myself too hard, thinking “I should be further along than this at this point,” so maybe it just seemed more difficult because I was making it too difficult for my level of ability. I was still going 5 times a week though.Then I went to Florida for 9 days. I came back, went to 1 or 2 classes then got sick and busy with theatre shows, band gigs, holidays, etc. and basically only went 4-5 times over 3-4 weeks. My last class yesterday was my worst ever. Even worse than my very first yoga class. I really felt my heart pounding and I felt faint several times and had to just lay down and rest. This didn’t even happen on my very first time in the room (I do hot yoga so it’s 98 degrees at 60% humidity). I attribute it to a combination of several factors: though I don’t think I’m sick any more, maybe I’m still recovering (I have been sleeping insane amounts), I hadn’t had much sleep the night before, I’ve been eating like crap, and I haven’t been to class much in the last several weeks. All I know is I really want to find my yoga mojo again.
  • I had a wonderful birthday, however. Woke up to a veritable plethora of messages bursting from the internet. Had a great party with wonderful friends, food and fun. Many friends from out of town and in, super supreme Rock Band setup, Leslie’s cake balls, and so much more. I never even got to all the cake ball varieties or the actual cake Greg and Becky got! To all of you who made it, I’m sorry I didn’t get to spend more time with each of you but please know that your presence meant a lot to me!
  • I love my new sheets so much, I never want to get out of bed. Perhaps this is part of my sleeping insane amounts lately.
  • I have very *suspicious* looking scratches on my back and shoulders. Sadly, they are only from me scratching myself silly after having a weird itchy attack at the end of the night tonight. This has happened to me a few times randomly. Usually after I have been at least a little sweaty. I’ve wondered if I’m allergic to my detergent or something but I would think it would happen a lot more if I was. One reason I link it to detergent is that I think it only itches where clothes touch. Like my bare arms were fine. It also seems worse in places like my waist where pants/underwear have the most contact. Bizarre. Of course if anyone were to somehow see these scratches and pointedly ask “Sooo, where’d you get those?” I could just smile coyly. But I won’t. I can never keep up a front. For better or worse, I’m mister honest, open-book, gotta-lay-it-all-on-the-table-guy.

Well I think that’s about it for this middle of the night brain dump. I’m sure as soon as I publish this, I’ll think of tons more. That’s the way it always works. Thank you all for being a part of my life.

hits you with a loaf of bread
Love you! Byeeeeeeeeeeeee!

19
Oct
2010
23:23

Why Do We Poke The Sore Places?

We do it physically. When we have that bruise or injury, we press it or move it and then think “Ow, yeah that hurts”. We do it emotionally. Think back to that time or place that makes your chest a little tighter as a little pang of…something travels through you. Sometimes I’ll be walking along, perfectly happy and then realize I’m not wistfully longing or reminiscing or being nostalgic and immediately my mind will travel back somewhere until I feel that little burst of pain. Most everyone I’ve had conversations about this with does it too. Why? What’s the point?

I have no idea. Maybe we just like to feel. Feel something. Something powerful to remind us we’re alive. Maybe it’s because those painful memories, those bitter-sweet things…were once just sweet.

14
Sep
2010
16:58

My Diva Demands. Divo? Divus?

Just sent out some info to the band, mostly for our new bass player. This was my final bullet point:

Do not trespass into my stage space, do not look me directly in the eye and don’t ever dare criticize me. I’m first in the dinner line and I never touch equipment to load. I exercise the ancient feudal right of “Primae Noctis.” According to the terms of this right, the lord of the manor had the right to the marriage bed on the first night of a serf or peasant’s marriage. I require a bowl of purple M&Ms, hand painted to perfectly match the color represented by the hexadecimal code #430077. The “m” on them must be 12 point Copperplate Gothic Bold Font.

01
Sep
2010
16:54

In Memoriam – Or…Life Is Hard But Please Stay With Us

An old friend of mine apparently took his own life this week. Now, I hadn’t spoken to him in many many years and we were never super best buds or anything but I did hang out at his house from time to time and really enjoyed our time together. He was one of the nicest, sweetest, funniest, most genuine people I’d ever met. We grew up in the same neighborhood and continued to hang out now and then into adulthood, playing video game and chatting about life’s mysteries. I think the last time I saw him was when we got together to play a Star Wars RPG game. I can’t remember how long it’s been since I saw him but never the less I miss knowing his presence is in the world.

I don’t know the details of his death. I don’t know what was going on in his life. He was a gentle and sensitive soul. Maybe too sensitive to live in what can be a very rough world sometimes. And while I’m sad that for whatever reason, this is how his journey ended, I can’t be angry, as is the natural reaction sometimes when someone commits suicide. Because I understand in a way. This isn’t to say I condone or in any way endorse it but I can understand it.

While I have never actually contemplated suicide, I have been in that place. Where everything seems so bleak, so heavy, so overwhelming. Where even if you don’t actually want to take your life, part of you thinks “I wouldn’t mind if I just didn’t wake up tomorrow, though.” I’m sorry that whatever he was going through obviously overwhelmed and blinded him to the fact that he was loved and that many would be hurt and devastated by his loss. Even old friends who he may not have realized even remembered his existence any more. Any time I’ve been in the depths of a funk, this has always been my overriding thought. The thought of how much losing me would hurt my mom, my dad, all those who love me and all those who I might not even know love me, all those who I don’t even know I mean anything at all to.

I’m always kind of surprised at how much I’m affected when I learn of the death of someone from my past. Someone who I’ve had no interaction with in years, or decades. But then I think about it and I shouldn’t be surprised. Every single person I’ve ever known, loved, or had any meaningful interaction with is part of who I today. Chuck Pehl who lived down the road from me as a child. James Mikel from 4th grade. Sheila Vincent, my major crush from 4th through 8th grade. Dave Westerman (RIP), the bass player in my first band. Hundreds, thousands of people. You’re all a part of making me who I am today and who I will be in the future (just to make sure that was clear, those people are all alive as far as I know except Dave).

No matter who you are, I can promise you that there a lot of people who love you and would miss you. Maybe you know that, maybe you don’t. There are countless more who you have no idea even think about or care, but they do. And if it ever gets too hard to believe that or remember that, then focus on this: I love you and care about you.

RIP, my friend. The world is a lesser place without you. For those of us still here, please believe me, it would be a lesser place without any of you as well.

27
Jul
2010
23:12

State of the Eaf Address

For some reason I feel the need to say this. To let you all behind the curtain for a moment. The last year or so has been one of the toughest of my life, for a lot of reasons. The end of my 7 year marriage, followed by another intense and passionate relationship that ended very badly (in some ways, although we are still friends), the usual ups and downs of career, friendships, creative relationships and all the stuff we all have to deal with from time to time.

There was a time when I pretty much lived completely openly online. Good, bad and ugly, I put it all out there for anyone who cared to see. Over the years, I’ve changed and started trying to pretty much keep it all positive. I don’t really care to expose everything to the world at large any more (and besides, no one wants to hear a bunch of “woe is me, feel my pain” BS) but for some reason I just felt somehow deceptive or something sort of keeping this all to myself.

Now here’s the thing: my life is 95% amazing and awesome. But then there’s the 5%. A toxic 5% that somehow seems to permeate, infect and somehow seem to counteract the other 95%. It casts a grey funk that sits just below the surface, like when you have a dull throbbing headache so subtle that you’re not even sure if you have a headache but yet it still saps you.

Obviously, some days are better, some worse, but I feel stuck, like the weight of my past has finally become too heavy and I can’t get out from under it. I know I will and it’s kind of weird because there is still plenty of happiness present within me. I’m not some depressed wreck or anything. Just that constant dull throbbing, dulling everything else. A part of me that seems broken and damaged. I’ve loved so deeply that I’ve left pieces of myself behind each time and now there’s not enough left to want to try again.

Now I’m no fool. I know myself. Eternal, hopeless romantic. I know that the day will come when I will meet someone who makes me go all Googly eyed and there will be full on double rainbows, all the way and all that. But for the moment, I’m so sick of this weight. Of the inability to escape my past, enjoy the present and look to the future.

So in short, if I’ve been less than the greatest of friends lately, it’s not you, it’s me. To quote Billy Joel, “When I’m deep inside of me, don’t be too concerned. I won’t ask for nothing while I’m gone.”

I love you all and appreciate all my friends immensely, even if I can also be a misanthrope and a loner. I’m a complicated man and no one understands me but…uhh…wait, no, that’s “Shaft.” Ah well, works for me too.

19
Jul
2010
11:46

“My Muse” is up!

I have “finished” my latest song “My Muse”. Give it a listen over on my Musician page. I put “finished” in quotes because I never actually feel finished. I just eventually have to walk away. Hope you enjoy! For the lyrically curious:

I crave your flesh
The sustenance you give me
I don’t know which will be the first to kill me
The starvation or the passion in my veins
As every muscle strains to keep myself together
I don’t know if I’m sleeping or awake
Hoping to finally feel the fever break

You steal my breath when I don’t choose to give it
You give me life, but take my will to live it
Every contour of you burned into my brain
My scars spell your name
The density of our destiny is so great that time is slowed
Nothing escapes, it just implodes.

You’re my muse, you’re a supernova
You’re the most euphoric and addictive drug
You’re in my blood, can’t get enough
You’re my wish, you’re my wounded angel
You’re stalking every shadow in my mind
I feel you everywhere though my eyes are blind

You make me sweat and shake with lustful urges
Lost in you, the undercurrent surges
Abandoned jetsam set adrift and drowning in the sea of my desire
Yet somehow I still burn on a pyre
You comfort me and heal me
But still you stoke the embers in the pit
And now my burning body is the only warmth I get

You’re my muse, you’re a supernova
You’re the most euphoric and addictive drug
You’re in my blood, can’t get enough
You’re my want, you’re the voice inside me
That sings to me in whispers and in screams
Can’t tell the difference between nightmares and dreams

You’re my muse, you’re a supernova
You’re the most euphoric and addictive drug
You’re in my blood, can’t get enough
You’re my void, you’re so ravenous
You can’t fit all of my soul into your mouth
And what you can’t consume, you just spit out

10
May
2010
20:14

Sneak Preview

Just for the record, my latest song is not about any particular ex of mine. I was just amused with the title and wrote some lyrics that could apply to many different exes in different parts while taking the opportunity to poke some fun at my own past romantic failures.

SNEAK PREVIEW of the lyrics to my latest song:

When you look back on love, do you see bridges on fire
And littered with the bodies of those that you desired
Immolation, devastation and scorched earth where your heart once grew

Well that’s not how I roll, I like to keep it optimistic
To all those I’ve loved, you’ll never just be a statistic
You’ll always have the little piece of my soul that I left with you

Every word I ever said is completely true
And you know I said I’d always be here for you
You’ve got your laundry list of everything about me that you think sucks

The way you shot our love to pieces
All I can say is nice shooting, Tex
I may have been a disappointment
But I’m the worlds greatest ex

Well you can talk to me about your new lover
You can take some solace from me if you’re distressed
Just take whatever you want from me and bury the rest

I’m glad to hear you found someone better
I hope it stays exciting, shiny and new
I hope he makes you feel everything you said only I could ever do

You’d lost your faith in love and I brought it back
You felt so full of love you thought you’d have a heart attack
Unfortunately I turned out too good to be true

But if there’s ever anything I can help with
Like heavy lifting or incredible sex
Well you can always count on me because I’m the world’s greatest ex

So if there’s any of you thinking you might want me
If you’re lucky maybe you could be next
But let’s just skip the pain the heartache and forget the pretext
We’ll start right at the end and just begin being vexed
Fast forward to our breakup and I’ll be your world’s greatest ex

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