Tag Archives: phone call

On Getting to Know Someone

On Getting to Know Someone

There is a certain point in the getting-to-know-people stage where they are becoming more and more predictable..and you are aware of this.  Suddenly that surprising phone call is no longer out of the blue, that invitation to hang out has a known end, and those mannerism speak for themselves.  Yep, you’ve just learned their personality.  You’ve got it down.  Now what?

In comes repetition and overlaying experiences.  You mix and mingle until, whoops!  You found out what you don’t like about them.  Oh dear, what a loss, you’re high has just fallen and suddenly all those fun memories have an hazy glow that keeps you from remembering that they were once considered cool.  Suddenly they aren’t cool at all.

Oh no! It isn’t that you realized what you don’t like about the person, you realized that you don’t like the person.  Oh a huge difference.  It is so big and potentially painful to the other party that you couldn’t bare to tell them.  So you keep going, keep answering the phone and hanging out.  After all you know you don’t like them, shouldn’t they too be figuring out that they don’t like you too?  Why is it taking so long?  How do I say no?  Why do they argue every time I say no?  How do I get out of this?  Oh god, I’m going to have to see the person soon and I have nothing to say, nothing I want to say and I don’t even feel like smiling.

Every time you are faced with the person, that first thing that you didn’t like about them becomes them.  It is there, walking by your desk, chatting in your ear, sending lines it text.  The person is no longer the person, they are everything that you do not like about them walking on two legs and they know it.  They must know that no one would ever like all of this.  How could they not know?  This is common sense to me, people don’t treat others so rudely and expect to be liked do they?  I learned this in preschool and they are still behaving this way?  Do people not know what a disgusted facial expression means?  Do they not know what it means to wear such an expression all the time?  They don’t. They don’t know.  Because they don’t know what you know.

But wait, sometimes things go the other way.  Sometimes you realize what you don’t like about someone and they never do it again.  Life just goes on and no one seems to notice.  You were waiting for them to do that annoying thing again and they didn’t.  You even held back to give them extra space to say that annoying word and nothing, there was silence.  or even better, they said something that you liked instead.  How wonderful this person is.

Then it continues for a long time and you realize that this person is stable.  They may do things that you don’t like but not every time and if it is a problem, they don’t hang their souls on the issue, they just do something else.  Ahhh, I see, this person is dynamic.  Those are my types of friends.  Shape shifters who don’t always operate on cue and enjoy having a deep pockets of happy social games to play.  You can still toss a nasty social pitch their way as a test, but you’ll notice that they deflect it with ease.  Instead of saying “you bitch!” they say, “I don’t play that game, but I like you so try another.”

Between the two extremes there ly the, well, inliers.  Those who stay in the gray.  You know enough about them that you know you don’t need to know any more about them.  They get a little annoying sometimes because you can never seem to get to know them enough to know whether you like them or not.  Which, in itself, is probably what you don’t like about them that they keep doing over and over so they really fall into the negative.  But give them a chance because sometimes it is just the situation that drives their behavior.

On Despair

On Despair

I sat on the balcony of a cafe next to my work in Sydney gazing out at the puffy clouds in the sky to the west. It was lunch time, well, the end of lunchtime, I was in the habit of taking lunches later to make the rest of the work day go by quicker. I had tunnel vision, meaning I didn’t care to look around and see if anyone I knew was sitting nearby; all I could think of was how horrible it was to be in this situation.

I just wanted to cry but I was tired of crying, I cried for three days after every phone call because I couldn’t stop habitually ruminated over every detail of the call. He wanted to pretend like nothing was wrong; wanted to call me as if I was happy he dumped me and was now off doing what he thought was what I wanted to do all along. I couldn’t do it anymore. There was no reassurance, no mention that the problem existed other than a Freudian slip followed by a nervous laugh when he accidentally said April 4th (the day he dumped me in a smokey bar) instead of August 4th (the day he was planning some sort of backpacking trip). Regardless of him making such a big deal about leaving me behind for some life experience that he couldn’t do tied to some girl back home, he still insisted on calling me every few days to tell me of his adventures and listen to what I was doing.

It was that day, 4 months later that I realized he dumped me after 7 years to go on vacation.

So there I sat, plagued by cyclical emotions. The current emotion I was in was rather analytical and dry of energy. I realized that the only reason my mind was sick was because this voice kept creeping into my life from far away offering nothing more than a hint that it might come visit. The thought of which only filled me with dread.

Then the phone rang again, as if on cue. There it was again, apparently sitting in some cafe in Tibet or some country near there, expecting to get what it wanted out of me for the time being without leaving me with something of value in return. I was mad at it, but I didn’t know how to get rid of it. So I just started talking about all the boys that I’ve encountered to make him jealous (because I knew it would work regardless of how he denied ever being jealous). I went into detail about how the boys all loved me and complimented me on the strangest things and how they were all so different and all such good friends even though I had only known them for the few months I’d been in Sydney, and how I was really fascinated by one in particular.

Then I just came out with it and asked, “Why are you calling me?”

There wasn’t much of an answer, so I just kept talking, “I don’t understand why you are calling me, you were so mean to me, you said such horrible things, and now you want to call me like none of it ever happened, you just want to go on as if nothing happened.”

Somehow the subject of another girl came up, who I knew he had a crush on because he hadn’t stopped talking about her for an entire year. Then he said, “you always get in a such a rage when [girl] is mentioned, you know you’re just going to have to get used to her and I being friends.”

“No,” I said, “I don’t because I don’t want to talk to you anymore, this whole situation is driving me crazy and I don’t want to deal with it anymore.”

“Whoa…. What!?!” he responded almost with a slight laugh over me saying I was being driven crazy because he always called me crazy for having normal female emotions, “But [girl] and I were going to come visit you!”

“What the fuck do I care about seeing [girl], why the fuck does she have anything to do with this?” I said.

It was at that point someone (the fascinating one in particular, of all people) walked by and tapped me on the head with a rolled up newspaper, as if to say what specifically I am not sure, but I perceived as if, to say “hey I’m here and take it easy.”

“Great,” I thought, “I tried to keep all this away from new people, I tried as much as I could to not be broken, but I’ve failed by being stuck in this tunnel vision of a fog all because the phone happened to ring when someone I knew was nearby.” If I wasn’t pissed off at my situation before I definitely was now. And I wasn’t going to put up with this shit any longer.

“But I’ve been carrying gifts for you for three weeks until I could get to a post office, what am I supposed to do with them now?” the voice pleaded.

“Throw them away, I don’t care, I don’t want them anymore, give them to [girl] sounds like she’ll appreciate them,” I snapped back.

“Well okay,” he said, “If you’re going to be like that then I guess this is goodbye.”

“I guess so!” I retorted.

“Okay, then, bye.” were the last words from the voice I’ve ever heard.

“Bye,” click.

Then sometime later… the phone rang back in Huntington Beach, California.

It was the voice on a train to his next city, calling a friend back at home.

“Friend! It’s [the voice],” came a solemnly desperate voice

“Hey man, What’s up?” asked the friend.

“Stephanie,” sob, “said she doesn’t want to talk to me anymore,” he cried.

Just as the friend was about to respond the call was dropped and there was silence.

Getting Back to Me

Getting Back to Me

I got back a piece of myself just now…well a ‘piece’ isn’t quite right, more like: I got back a Zoroish mask of myself just now, perhaps a combining of masks actually….just let me explain, I’ll get to the core of this while I write. Throughout today the mask slowly assembled, it started with a phone call at the way too early hour of 9:30am, no wait….that was yesterday…or was it on Monday? Hmmm…so, okay the mask has been building for two or three days now. Moving on.

Larry and Adam called to see if I could come with them to pick up Adam’s car from the shop to bring it home. “Finally, an opportunity for some adventure,” I thought to myself. After working out the logistics of our intended maneuver, we succeeded in getting the ’76 Civic back to Adam’s house. The details of which aren’t as interesting as what the team effort brought out from inside me that hadn’t come out in a very very very long time. It felt great to do so simple of a task with friends who I wouldn’t trust with everything (i.e. driving my car), but that I know in which ways I CAN trust. This ‘CAN’ makes all the difference.

There is a lot of testing with newer friends that has already been accomplished time and time again in the older ones. We know each others strengths and each other’s weaknesses and it is exciting when we know how to overlap the two to cover for each other, in a seamless, high style fashion. It is just that feeling of being deep on the inside of relationships with those around me and not being so conscious of the connection and relation we have with one another. That was the first piece of my mask…lets say the right eye.

The second piece, the left eye, fell into place while talking to Lavina on the phone. I realized that I hadn’t heard her voice in almost 2 and a half years. And all I can say is that I felt like a fairy was hovering above my head sprinkling me with the most soothing, sparkling magic dust and it took me to new heights.

The third piece, the nose, fell into place while hanging out in ‘The Backyard’ tonight. I was back in action, fulfilling my old shoes (figuratively and literally speaking because I put on my old tennis shoes and some toes socks, I hadn’t worn close toed shoes in over a month, felt awesome and warm) while managing to bring in so many new aspects of myself that are now naturally coming out of me and fitting in nicely to the social matrix at hand.

At this point I could hold the mask up to my face and see through it, but it wasn’t until the strap that holds it on fell into place that I felt this extremely full feeling of being complete within myself.

There I was in my mismatching/striped toe-socks, with glasses on, my jeans constantly sagging down past my butt crack (all this yoga melts me), wearing a puffy blue jacket, and my hair in a pony tail, dancing in my kitchen using the back window of the house as my mirror, all while waiting for the kettle to boil water for my tea. I’m not sure how much time had passed in this classic Stephanie state-of-existing when the strap of my mask finally *snapped* it into place and held it there long enough for me to glimpse myself in the mirror, just being myself and honestly enjoying myself.

It is good to be back.

‘Supposing truth is a woman’ to ‘defects in the mind’

‘Supposing truth is a woman’ to ‘defects in the mind’

It all started in the begining of September while waiting – like a dog who isn’t allowed to eat off the dinning room table but is constantly in view of the forks of dripping steak going into the mouths of those who, for reasons unknown to the dog, enforce these rules to keep it under control – for a phone call that never came. Not that I really expected my pink nokia to purge out its ambient tone, but at the time I really had nothing else going on in my life since I had already made the best chicken soup of the century, perfected my spinach omlet recipe, taken a swim for 40 minutes, and meet up with one of my best mates for lunch.

This simple life wouldn’t be complete, I guess, without something outside of my grasp to wait for, so I gave into the wait. While doing some slow yoga stretched I picked up Adam’s copy of Nietzche’s
‘Beyond Good and Evil’
that I have been scanning through for years, off and on, in Adam’s bedroom while he and Allen engaged in conversation. I borrowed the book in promise to give it back before I left for Aussieland again, which was a bold face lie because I didn’t intend to give it back until I came home, but left the option of giving it back sooner open with my promise. The meaning of words is perhaps worth another note, so I won’t go into it here. Luckily Adam is cool with that aspect of me, or at least he should be by now and has no choice but to be.

I couldn’t begin at the beginning of the book because the first part references a whole bunch of philosopers that I have probably heard of but didn’t know anything about… so I skipped with my favorite topic of the ‘natural history of morals’ and other sections that I need to read again to fully grasp. So inorder to understand Nietzsche I realized that I had to read his predecessors and come back to Beyond Good and Evil.

My first stop was to Borders in Bondi Junction where I picked up
‘The Portable Nietzche’
which contains a number of books and exerpts in one low cost edition and is also translated by Kaufman. This book present the same problem as stated above so I began reading Dosteosky’s
‘Crime and Punishment’
because I already had grabbed that book 6 months previously from the book swap shelf in the Morgan Stanley office, and no I didn’t put a book on the shelf in its place because based on the rest of fluff on the shelf I didn’t think anyone but the person who dropped off the C & P would be interested in anything I’ve got. I had decided to go traveling 3/4 of the way through C & P and so I got another volume containing multiple works by Mr. D called
‘Great Short works of Dostoevsky’
to bring with me, which I have yet to read because once I got to Mullimbimby in Byron Shire I fell in love with
‘The Consolations of Philosophy’
by Alain De Botton. This was exactly what I was looking for. It is probably the most fulfilling book I have read so far and it covers five different philosophers, offering me a platform by which to jump to the lilypad I wanted to land on. From there I Downloaded
‘The Sorrows of Young Werther’
by Goethe which I have read part of but am too cheap to print it from an internet cafe and even though the Emperor of France had read it several times over, no one seems to have heard of it today in the book stores.I picked up Schopenhauer’s
‘Essays & Aphorisms’
because I couldn’t find ‘The Will to Life.’ After sucking in knowledge and being inspired to work on my writing style (which is why you might have stopped reading by now, because I have chosen a subject that most find boring in exchange for practicing my style, which… needs a lot of work, I know, but this is for me not you, unless you actually want some good advice on what to read). I then bought another book by De Botton called
‘How Proust can change your life’
Which didn’t quite change my life and wasn’t as good as the philosophy book of his but got me hooked on Marcel Proust and his style, so I got a copy of
‘Days of Reading’
And then I went back to Beyond Good and Evil last night…. low and behold… I have more shopping to do.