Monthly Archives: September 2011

Alter Ego, or Arch Enemy?

Her name is something like… Ally or Carrie.

She has brown hair, cut short in a way that always looks perfectly tossled, no matter the weather or time of day.

She has brown or hazel eyes, and a skintone that’s deliberately not tan, but that could be if she so chose.

Her face is shaped such that her expression is always just on the edge of amusement. No one accuses her of looking bored or mad for no reason.

She has a cute chin and a clear complexion, slight muscle tone, and an organic sense of fashion.

She is confident in a group, easily engaging in a conversation and making well-placed references to literature or historical dates. She understands politics and government.

She has conviction and a strong voice. No one ever asks her to speak up. She talks just enough.

She is adorable, and has many friends.

She rides her bike to the grocery store, and doesn’t have unmanageable agoraphobia. She likes mid-sized parties and doesn’t resort to a bottle of wine to deal with a crowd.

She figured out how to transition from an adolescent to an adult. She is confident at work. People listen to this woman.

She approaches things she is unfamiliar with, with curiosity and excitement rather than fear and uncertainty and doubt.

She is unintimidated by creativity. She embraces it innocently, and that door is always open for her.

Everyone loves her. She’s really a model human being.

And, most of the time, I really hate her so thoroughly.


The Bigger Person

No. It’s official. I’m still not over it. I’m not done being hurt by it. Not done thinking about it.

I will be. Likely soon. But not yet.

How someone can call themselves a friend for 13 years, throughout some of the most formative (I always want to say ‘formidable’) years of your life, and yet never make the slightest effort to stand up for you or see your side of any situation is beyond me.

I’m so tired of this theme: I initiate a drastic change in my life. I choose to keep my business private out of respect for myself and anyone else involved. My so-called “friends,” rather than ask me what’s going on, if I’m okay, etc., get together and gossip and speculate and conspire, painting their own picture without any foundation in fact, and proceed to judge me. When called on it, they respond, “Well, we didn’t know what was going on.” When asked why they didn’t just come to me to find out, they answer, “Well, we didn’t feel like it was any of our business.”

Can we just reflect on that for a minute…?

I’m important enough to you that my personal issues are sufficient fodder for your gossip sessions, but you feel that the actual facts are too personal and “not your business.”

Which means that you are essentially content to sit back and fabricate stories about me and never express any concern to me, while in the same breath claiming you respect me too much to pry into my personal affairs.

Which I can only conclude must mean that you’re actually not a good friend, because I can’t trust you. People who are friends don’t fabricate tales about you, and then stand by those judgments, unwavering in the face of facts.

So when my long-time friend from adolescence and young adulthood allows his fiancee to draw false conclusions about me, and then tells me that I can’t come to his wedding because she has issued judgment upon me based on information they fabricated without ever coming to me, forming conclusions that I told him were inaccurate and unfair, but he won’t even tell her that because he wasn’t supposed to be talking to me anyway, I have a hard time saying “Congratulations” to the happy couple.

Especially when I realize that every interaction I’ve had with this woman over the last nine months was so much false kindness; when I’m told that she would be embarrassed if she knew that my dear friend told me how she really felt about me.

That’s called having no conviction. And Tony, you have no conviction either. You blame everything on someone else. There’s always another person behind your decisions.¬†You are a hapless victim of your own life, content to garner sympathy to get what you want, without ever taking responsibility for your own actions and decisions.

I saw passing mention of the wedding this weekend. I have gone back and forth about how/whether I should congratulate them, trying to convince myself that I should just be the bigger person and be happy for them, regardless of their immaturity.

But I think, in the majority of situations, there is more than one way to be the bigger person.

And “Congratulations” is a lot to ask for right now.

So in this case, I think I’m actually quite content with being the bigger person by simply not¬†telling them both to fuck off.



Tell the gossipers and liars I will see them in the fire.

– Johnny Cash


In Connor's second thesis it is stated "There is no fate but what we make for ourselves."  Does the routine destroy our creativity or do we lose creativity and fall into the routine?  Anyway, who's up for a road trip!


Two Words

Second reorg in a year. An even more convoluted apply-and-compete-for-your-own-job process. Top brass is sitting pretty and doesn’t give a sh*t about the people who actually have to do work around here.

I’m sick of the process and the dysfunctionality and being so beholden to it all. Being so trapped by it. *Needing* it so badly to maintain my tenuous hold on a middle class lifestyle. Spending the bulk of my waking hours wasting all my energy on work that doesn’t benefit anyone. Just fueling consumerism and growing more and more estranged from creativity and meaning.

Two words: Fuck it.