Kismet

Toe,
Thanks for that memory. I remember you telling me something about this, but not in this detail.

I like your description of the video, and your sense of time. I like how being ill fucks with your sense of time, although while you are experiencing it, it is not at all fun.

I am exhausted. Had some scotch tonight. Not feeling so much like writing. But I had to respond to this memory, at least to acknowledge it.

On another note, Dinosaur Jr. is coming to my town, my little town, next week. I feel that it sort of fated that I must go see them.
Love,
E-word

No alarms and no surprises

E-word,

Thanks for sharing that story.  It's still amazing to me that you lived in a pre-gentrified Dupont Circle, the kind of semi-bohemian life you led back then seems virtually impossible nowadays.  You and your friend T*, the formerly skinniest man alive ever.  Heavy blankets, painted plastic covering windows, crumbling plaster walls, and a boombox(!).  Isn't it amazing how vivid our memories are of things like that?  

I had to give some thought to another song that brings back some horrendous memories, but one I love nonetheless.  I thought of a time that I've shared before, but I can think of this story from another angle.  About 11 years ago I was in Seoul with my family, and we were staying at the Holiday Inn.  We were there to celebrate the election of the president.  I managed to get pretty sick (a combination of borderline alcohol poisoning and a stomach virus), and was stuck in bed.  I had broken up with A**a at least 8 months previously, but she was deep in my feverish mind.  I remember time moving so slowly, and a kind of never-ending loneliness.  I honestly didn't think I could go on- I was puking constantly into a trashcan off the side of my bed (getting puke all over the edge of the mattress cover, oh, it was ugly), I was dehydrated, aching, and probably suffering from alcohol withdrawal as well.  I was sharing the room with my brothers, who I think were trying to take some care of me, or maybe they were just stuck in the room with nowhere to go.  There wasn't much to watch on tv- it was either American Forces tv or this international music video station, so we ended up watching a lot of music videos.  I don't know if my brothers were in the room at the time, but I remember hearing the song 'No Surprises' by Radiohead.  I didn't know the song at all, but it was very distinctive with the chiming guitars.  I remember watching the video, and seeing a skinny guy who appeared to be in a plastic vestibule that filled with water.  I may have only been aware of the song and the video for 30 seconds, but I remembered it vividly.  There was probably something I related to very strongly in that video, the claustrophobia and drowning of some skinny and kind of ugly dude.  

Needless to say, I survived.  I remember asking my brothers if they knew about this Radiohead video.  Back then my family was really detached from television, so none of them had any idea what I was talking about with regards to the video, and I never saw the video again until, coincidentally, quite recently.  Of course I had fallen in love with 'Ok Computer', and in the back of my mind I always remembered when I first heard 'No Surprises', but when I saw the video again, those times of feeling things so terribly floated back to the surface.

It's funny, being young.  I survived, of course I survived, but at the time I felt like I was drowning.  I want so much to be home, to be somewhere comfortable.  I was sick of being sick, I was sick of being so lonely, I felt so starved for touch, for love, god, I think back to prostitutes and how no amount of tenderness from them could ever make me less lonely, how getting laid was the last thing on my mind.

I don't know where I'm going with all of that.  I have one more song which I'll mention later, but it's definitely a sweeter nostalgic memory than this one, even though I still ended up losing.

Sorry for the lack of coherence.

Love,

Toe

There's a way I feel right now, wish you'd help me, don't know how

Hi Toe,

I like this idea of talking about a song that, in spite of the fact that it reminds you of a bad time in your life, you still love. It makes me think of a sort of healthy mental space, one reached with time, where you can embrace your past failings and love your lifeThere are a few bad times in my life, and a fair number of them involve women I have dated. Looking back now, a lot of these times do not seem so serious to me, but at the time, feelings I had were huge. Here is one song associated with such a time by Dinosaur Jr, The Wagon:

I was new to living in DC, staying in a big, decrepit house with five other people. A housemate had sort of set me up with this eccentric, Pixie-like woman who was very talented and interesting. Our first date lasted something like 7 hours, where we wandered around on a snowy day, going to a restaurant in Adams Morgan and talking non-stop. I remember the morning after the first time we spent the night at my place, I wanted to listen to music as we lay in bed. I had a cassette someone made me, one side was Dinosaur Jr and the other was something else. I had suggested the other band (I think it might have been Soul Asylum), and she said she liked the sensibilities of Dinosaur Jr. This was one of the first songs on the album if I recall, and I always think of that time whenever I hear it. My room was huge, with plaster walls crumbling, and two giant windows and a non-functioning fireplace. We lay in bed under a heavy blanket (it was February, afterall, and that place was very underheated) and listened to the tape as it played in the little boombox I had on the floor. I had plastic over the windows for insulation, and had painted the plastic with acrylic paint, so it looked like stained glass.

We dated for about two months. She broke up with me on the front stoop of the big stone row-house I lived in, late on a warm May night, saying how she was going home because she didn't think that it was right to fool around in bed with a friend. It was then I realized I hadn't been conveying how I felt about her, that I had somehow mistook her lighthearted, pixieness for a need for a light relationship, which was a relationship that worked for me, but I think I had hidden how much I cared about her. I told her I thought of us as more than friends, but it was too late, I guess, and I don't think I expressed myself very well. I tried to see her again a week later, but she refused ("You won't see me" goes the song). She moved away sometime in the next few months and I never saw her again.

I love the chaos of this song, of this whole album actually. It reminds me of being hungover on cheap whiskey--something else I experienced a lot in those days--and of being generally confused about life, but somehow having a good time. I was kind of manically happy while we were going out, but I was also sad and insecure, and this song sounds that way to me, too.

Anyway, what a good idea to talk about these song memories. Give me another song from your past, and I'll do the same.
Love,
E-word

Driveway to driveway drunk

E-word,

The AV Club had a feature called 'Music we can't listen to anymore', and the funny thing is for me I don't really have any. I have songs that are significant and remind me of bad times, but they still stay with me. I'll share one with you, and maybe you could do the same?

'Driveway to Driveway' - Superchunk

Right before A**a and I broke up, God, nearly 13 years ago now, she was 'talking' with a guy who made her mix tapes and was a friend of her cousin or something, just some really ridiculous stuff, man, not to go off on a tangent here, but 'love or whatever' blinded me to just the most obvious shit when I was younger. Shit's stupid. Stupid shit. Damn, I can finally look back with some objectivity and see how completely blind and naive I was without feeling incredibly shameful about it. Anyway, this guy made A**a mix tapes and stuff for her to listen to, and the other kind of ridiculous thing with relation to this is the guy was totally into indie rock. A**a showed me some of the mix tapes this 'friend' made for her, and one of them was a copy of 'Foolish' by Superchunk. This guy also made her a copy of a Saint Etienne album, but I never got into them.

Getting back to the point, I didn't really listen to Superchunk until after A**a showed me that stupid mix tape, and I actually totally fell in love with that particular cd. It was all so symbolic. I mean, my ex-girlfriend's future boyfriend (who was courting her while we were still dating) gives her a tape of 'Foolish' which is a album of break-up songs written by the band leader (Mac) about his break-up with the bassist (Laura) who is still in the freaking band.

'Glad I still have the scrapes to prove that it was me who fell.'
'My hand on your heart had been replaced, and i thought it was you that i had chased.'

I still love this record, and I still love that song.

Love,

Toe

Sixteen Blue

E-word,

I've been thinking about your short story, and I find an interesting parallel between our protagonists- they both are extremely self-absorbed. I wonder if that just happened, or maybe most protagonists are self-absorbed. I don't know. I enjoyed reading your story, and I'll call you perhaps tomorrow to chat about what we've written. I think the goal for another story by April 15th is a good one. Maybe after a few more iterations, we won't need the threat of monetary loss to meet deadlines.

Life goes on and on. We bought some plane tickets to Barcelona, and we're going in May. Plane ticket prices are just incredibly low. Both of us flying to Barcelona costs significantly less than one ticket to Seoul. It's almost like flying to California. Us buying tickets goes along with the whole worry thing. Gotta live in the now somewhat, and spit in the face of the current economic situation.

I'm so happy to be writing again. The story I sent you is rushed. There are parts of it that I know I can expand on or make clearer but god, how wonderful it was to CREATE again. I don't have any idea what I'm going to write next. Well, I have some ideas. I'm thinking about writing about a person's ability to torture someone, and how they derive feeling or enjoyment from it. We'll see where it goes.

Okay. Take care.

Love,

Toe

Pain works on a sliding scale. So does pleasure, in a candy jail.

Toe,
Its a beautiful day here in the Prairie State, and I am inside finishing up my story. It's a first draft, so I am going to let it sit until tonight, then reread and revise. We have until tomorrow, right?

I hear what you are saying about worry. I try not to worry, but I usually go through periods where I ruminate, waking up at 4:30 in the morning thinking about stuff. Usually it has something to do with my job, thoughts about me getting in trouble for not doing something, or for not doing something well.

Lately, when I worry about work, or even about world events, I think about previous bouts of worry and how things eventually worked out. This seems to help me put things in perspective. I wonder if this is why some older people seem to get less stressed about things. I remember back around 9-11 there was some news show about people being stressed out or traumatized by the events, and how elderly people seemed to be less stressed by the attacks than young adults. The speculation was that they had seen things like this before, and knew from experience that we could get through any tough times.

So, I try to keep some perspective. It works sometimes. Sometimes not.

I hope you are doing better and enjoying a weekend without much worry. I look forward to your story. Send it to me by email when you have it, and I'll do the same.

Love,
E-Word

Slow drowned you were angels

E-word,

Too much time is spent worrying. I'm not saying we're not living in time that warrants worry (we kind of worried over the phone together which was nice, we should do that more often), but there is so little we can do about it, and worrying about it doesn't actually prepare you for anything. That said, I don't think I'm going to greatly change my behavior. I'd like to say that I'm going to go 'CRAZY' (imagine me waving my hands around my head while saying this), but I'm going to stop worrying.

What's the worst thing that can happen? I shouldn't even write that, I'm still a little superstitious. Just watch, tomorrow some nuclear warhead is going go off in Kansas, and I'll say that maybe there is justification in worry.

love,

Toe

You remind me of a TV show, that's all right, I'll watch it anyway

Toe,
I once did the exact same thing on a MySpace page--I signed up, got a page, then deleted the page later the same day. I seriously don't think there is anything wrong with you. Or me. We just are not Facebook people. I prefer this blog to any sort of very personal site. It's a much deeper connection--dude, I'm writing to you alone, and others can read it, but they will have no idea who we are. Well, most of them don't, and in any case, these entries are not for them, at least not directly, although I don't mind if anyone reads them. I would never reveal even a quarter of the shit I reveal here that I would on Facebook, and from what I understand, most people don't. And what's with this Twitter thing? Come on, I don't need to know what you are doing every hour of the day! Jiminy Christmas. No, I think that it's something wrong with other people, not us, that they need to "connect" so obsessively. One day we'll look back at all this as sort of a temporary mass hysteria.

I will call you soon. I would like to talk. Maybe tomorrow evening, right after work.

I have not been writing. I started a story in the Fall, and thought I might try to finish it before the 15th, but that would be against the rules of our wager, right? It has to be a story I started since you posted the $50 challenge, correct? Hmmm. I can do it, I swear.

We should have a $50 challenge every month. It could be like a bill due at mid-month. Imagine if, instead of paying a bill you could send a short story instead? A mortgage might require a novella, I imagine....OK, I'll start.

Life is good here, by the way. I'm still waiting for spring, feeling depressed sometimes about the work I have chosen to devote my time to, but otherwise, pretty good for most hours, on most days.

Hope you are well.
Love,
E-Word