review of weekend
Thursday night, I took Zombie Queen to see Heroine. It was our second date since we met the weekend before Valentine's Day, and there's not going to be a third. There's just no spark between us, the only thing we have in common is an interest in the same sort of relationship.
Anyway, Heroine was incredibly good. It deals with subject matter that's normally very important to me, but this time it was particularly moving because of the conversation I'd had with Priceless Pearl earlier this week.
Friday, I think I stayed home, working on some photos and chatting on the phone with (f)AD. Frolic Con is coming up, and I plan on showing there, so I need to figure out the What and the How Much really soon, plus crazy deadlines for school are starting to come up.
Saturday, I had a lovely time, starting with dinner with a bunch of friends, followed by seeing Heroine again. The Moonhowler kids are in town for the Transworld Show, and I had bought them tickets, but they didn't end up making it to the show. It was cool seeing it again, as I was more able to push past my raw emotional response and look at the work as a crafted experience. Cave Dwelling Eyes was having a show at Spot 6, so about an hour into the after party I headed out and hung out with her, her husband, and the band of Polish immigrants that cling to CDE despite all her attempts to free herself from her culture. We had a lot of fun and I found this absolutely darling raver girl on the dance floor at one point whom I hope to use as a greek chorus for the Archetyped! series. She seemed very pleased by my interest, so I think there's an above-average chance that she'll call back. CDE's family and friends are so strange to me, they're all introverts, but not in the way that draws me to Wicked Kitten and Silent Dancer. Their introversion does not stem from worry about how the world will react to their true selves, but they are simply too fragile and too scared to reach out and connect with anything. The introverts I usually meet are, underneath it all, dangerously clever, wickedly cunning, and painfully empathetic. These guys just seem like they are easy to bruise. I don't understand what she sees in them, and she is so dismissive of them that I wonder why they stay in contact.
Around midnight, I headed over to Spin to join back up with.... the Kinetic folk (I pause as I write this, wanting to call them "my tribe" but feeling the term no longer fits on my fingers) for a Drag Kings show. It's a little upsetting to me how I'm letting one bitch ruin the memory of an otherwise enjoyable night. I had a lot of fun everywhere, and I usually don't pack nearly that much into a single night. Still, there's this drifting wreckage inside my weekend, and every time it got near me, my radar went off and I veered away from really relaxing into a connection with people I cherish and have not seen in a while. I wish I wasn't like that, wish that my mood didn't affect my enjoyment of my friends so much. I can usually shake that sort of thing off, but it's harder this time for no discernible reason.
I'm just going to have to get used to the idea that I don't have to like everyone who likes my friends. That it's okay to leave the harpies in with the heralds.
Sunday, there was the game, of course, followed by the Transworld Show. Well, sort of. I met up with all the Transworld regulars that mattered to me at the hotel bar. The Purple Haired Girl was positively bouncy about seeing me again, so much so that at first I had quite the wrong impression about her excitement. She's going to be in town all week, and hopefully we'll be hanging out.
Thorn Chain and MoonHowling Wolf chatted with me about their weekend, their subtle and nefarious campaign against the man who has pushed them back to the brink of bankruptcy. I have to admire their handling of the situation. The only thing they said to everyone was, "I had a lot of fun and I loved the actors and the staff, and I will absolutely not be working for Taj Jordan or Music on the Move ever again." It's a tribute to just how well-respected they are that word spread around like wildfire. That man is bad news, and he fucked over the Moonhowler Guys. I don't even know how bad. Hellfire, I only showed up to the after-con bar on the third day, and within 20 minutes, I heard about it from the rumor mill.
It reminded me of one bit of story which I had almost forgotten, when I got to freak out the binder who had underprinted the new edition of Shadowrun books for GenCon. Sprite had called me earlier to let me know that they had messed up and there were only a dozen books to be had, rather than the hundred or so I'd been expecting to pick up. I showed up at the binder, chatted pleasantly with the man for a few minutes and then asked, So how many are ready to go? I'd like to leave as soon as possible.
"Oh, there are fifteen. They'll be ready in about an hour." I feigned outrage. Only 15 boxes? I was told I'd be picking up 50! Fifteen boxes is simply unacceptable. Oh, gods, the look on that man's face as he had to spit out the words, "Not boxes, 15 books." was simply priceless.
The Moonhowler Kids crashed at my place, and we chatted until late in the night as is our wont. This morning, we woke up and I packed them off to the last day of Tranworld. I need to hit the digital labs, and hopefully find some time to hang out with CDE before they get done with everything. I find myself wishing I'd had a bit of time with Tasmanian Distraction while she'd been here.
I'm really feeling very alienated from everything I've worked so hard to connect to, and I don't know what that is about. I've poured myself into this new photography project, and the learning is exciting, but the taste is somehow bitter in my mouth. For months, for at least an entire season, I've sacrificed time with my friends at the altar of my dreams, and I feel like all I have to show for it is smoke and ashes.
I'm re-reading this entry, and wondering where all the feelings are. I talk about all these things that caused really strong emotional reactions in me, but I don't feel like I'm expressing them well. I've lost my words, again. They slipped through my fingers as I reached for another thing, and now I can't find them. I'm on my hands and knees, sifting through my shag rug of memories, cursing myself a fool.
I can't find my words, and I wish that I could find time to watch a movie with Priceless Pearl, or go visit Sword Tongue and watch some anime with her, that particular blend of sexual arousal and platonic friendship. There's something about mutual attraction mingled with the understanding that nothing will ever come of it, like lying on a beach and smelling the surf, but sunning yourself instead of going for a swim.
Like lying on a beach and smelling the surf, but sunbathing instead of diving into an ocean, into an undercurrent. Relaxing, feeling the sand squish through your toes, instead of swimming against the rhythm of the tide. There's an inevitability, and inseparability between oceans and tides. Better to leave it all and just soak up the warmth instead.
I want a womb to crawl into, I want to rest in a place that is not empty, yet also lacking in judgement, I want to be nourished though an umbilical rather than this hunger-inducing trickle that comes from my few meals and far between them.
It is impossible, I know. I understand that I am the only one judging me, discounting that one useless slit whose opinions matter not at all. There is no solace, there is no sanctuary, and I would not find the time to indulge in it even if it were offered. But it hurts to think that it has been so long since I've clasped arms with a comrade, that I may have forgotten how.
Anyway, Heroine was incredibly good. It deals with subject matter that's normally very important to me, but this time it was particularly moving because of the conversation I'd had with Priceless Pearl earlier this week.
Friday, I think I stayed home, working on some photos and chatting on the phone with (f)AD. Frolic Con is coming up, and I plan on showing there, so I need to figure out the What and the How Much really soon, plus crazy deadlines for school are starting to come up.
Saturday, I had a lovely time, starting with dinner with a bunch of friends, followed by seeing Heroine again. The Moonhowler kids are in town for the Transworld Show, and I had bought them tickets, but they didn't end up making it to the show. It was cool seeing it again, as I was more able to push past my raw emotional response and look at the work as a crafted experience. Cave Dwelling Eyes was having a show at Spot 6, so about an hour into the after party I headed out and hung out with her, her husband, and the band of Polish immigrants that cling to CDE despite all her attempts to free herself from her culture. We had a lot of fun and I found this absolutely darling raver girl on the dance floor at one point whom I hope to use as a greek chorus for the Archetyped! series. She seemed very pleased by my interest, so I think there's an above-average chance that she'll call back. CDE's family and friends are so strange to me, they're all introverts, but not in the way that draws me to Wicked Kitten and Silent Dancer. Their introversion does not stem from worry about how the world will react to their true selves, but they are simply too fragile and too scared to reach out and connect with anything. The introverts I usually meet are, underneath it all, dangerously clever, wickedly cunning, and painfully empathetic. These guys just seem like they are easy to bruise. I don't understand what she sees in them, and she is so dismissive of them that I wonder why they stay in contact.
Around midnight, I headed over to Spin to join back up with.... the Kinetic folk (I pause as I write this, wanting to call them "my tribe" but feeling the term no longer fits on my fingers) for a Drag Kings show. It's a little upsetting to me how I'm letting one bitch ruin the memory of an otherwise enjoyable night. I had a lot of fun everywhere, and I usually don't pack nearly that much into a single night. Still, there's this drifting wreckage inside my weekend, and every time it got near me, my radar went off and I veered away from really relaxing into a connection with people I cherish and have not seen in a while. I wish I wasn't like that, wish that my mood didn't affect my enjoyment of my friends so much. I can usually shake that sort of thing off, but it's harder this time for no discernible reason.
I'm just going to have to get used to the idea that I don't have to like everyone who likes my friends. That it's okay to leave the harpies in with the heralds.
Sunday, there was the game, of course, followed by the Transworld Show. Well, sort of. I met up with all the Transworld regulars that mattered to me at the hotel bar. The Purple Haired Girl was positively bouncy about seeing me again, so much so that at first I had quite the wrong impression about her excitement. She's going to be in town all week, and hopefully we'll be hanging out.
Thorn Chain and MoonHowling Wolf chatted with me about their weekend, their subtle and nefarious campaign against the man who has pushed them back to the brink of bankruptcy. I have to admire their handling of the situation. The only thing they said to everyone was, "I had a lot of fun and I loved the actors and the staff, and I will absolutely not be working for Taj Jordan or Music on the Move ever again." It's a tribute to just how well-respected they are that word spread around like wildfire. That man is bad news, and he fucked over the Moonhowler Guys. I don't even know how bad. Hellfire, I only showed up to the after-con bar on the third day, and within 20 minutes, I heard about it from the rumor mill.
It reminded me of one bit of story which I had almost forgotten, when I got to freak out the binder who had underprinted the new edition of Shadowrun books for GenCon. Sprite had called me earlier to let me know that they had messed up and there were only a dozen books to be had, rather than the hundred or so I'd been expecting to pick up. I showed up at the binder, chatted pleasantly with the man for a few minutes and then asked, So how many are ready to go? I'd like to leave as soon as possible.
"Oh, there are fifteen. They'll be ready in about an hour." I feigned outrage. Only 15 boxes? I was told I'd be picking up 50! Fifteen boxes is simply unacceptable. Oh, gods, the look on that man's face as he had to spit out the words, "Not boxes, 15 books." was simply priceless.
The Moonhowler Kids crashed at my place, and we chatted until late in the night as is our wont. This morning, we woke up and I packed them off to the last day of Tranworld. I need to hit the digital labs, and hopefully find some time to hang out with CDE before they get done with everything. I find myself wishing I'd had a bit of time with Tasmanian Distraction while she'd been here.
I'm really feeling very alienated from everything I've worked so hard to connect to, and I don't know what that is about. I've poured myself into this new photography project, and the learning is exciting, but the taste is somehow bitter in my mouth. For months, for at least an entire season, I've sacrificed time with my friends at the altar of my dreams, and I feel like all I have to show for it is smoke and ashes.
I'm re-reading this entry, and wondering where all the feelings are. I talk about all these things that caused really strong emotional reactions in me, but I don't feel like I'm expressing them well. I've lost my words, again. They slipped through my fingers as I reached for another thing, and now I can't find them. I'm on my hands and knees, sifting through my shag rug of memories, cursing myself a fool.
I can't find my words, and I wish that I could find time to watch a movie with Priceless Pearl, or go visit Sword Tongue and watch some anime with her, that particular blend of sexual arousal and platonic friendship. There's something about mutual attraction mingled with the understanding that nothing will ever come of it, like lying on a beach and smelling the surf, but sunning yourself instead of going for a swim.
Like lying on a beach and smelling the surf, but sunbathing instead of diving into an ocean, into an undercurrent. Relaxing, feeling the sand squish through your toes, instead of swimming against the rhythm of the tide. There's an inevitability, and inseparability between oceans and tides. Better to leave it all and just soak up the warmth instead.
I want a womb to crawl into, I want to rest in a place that is not empty, yet also lacking in judgement, I want to be nourished though an umbilical rather than this hunger-inducing trickle that comes from my few meals and far between them.
It is impossible, I know. I understand that I am the only one judging me, discounting that one useless slit whose opinions matter not at all. There is no solace, there is no sanctuary, and I would not find the time to indulge in it even if it were offered. But it hurts to think that it has been so long since I've clasped arms with a comrade, that I may have forgotten how.
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I certainly hope you're not talking about anyone I'm familiar with.
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And just so we're clear, the woman who upset me, did so on Thursday, over the phone. But I didn't let it get to me until Saturday. So that first sentence wasn't some p/a crap.
I'm guessing by your comment that I should apologize for taking pictures during the show. I hadn't realized my camera was so loud as to be heard by anyone. It was the first time I've used it in public, so it if disrupted your experience of the show, I'm truly very sorry about that.
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Uh, yeah, because owning up to it would be totally uncalled for...?
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I see no point in beating my head against a wall. Not everyone in the world is supposed to get along. They have chosen not to like me, and have chosen to avoid discussing why. I respond to that.
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It's a little upsetting to me how I'm letting one bitch ruin the memory of an otherwise enjoyable night.
That it's okay to leave the harpies in with the heralds.
In case you're actually as oblivious as you let on, those are instances of both namecalling AND mud-dragging. They ain't the first, and I know they ain't the last, and I'd watch your damn mouth if I were you.
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...you can never see beyond your need to lash out, to express your point of view irregardless of how it's perceived by people you claim to care about and cherish...
I have tried to be as clear as I can in expressing that this is a problem I'm aware of, one I'm seeking professional help for, and would welcome help with.
It's not an excuse, but it's taken me two years to even get to the point where I can even admit that something has upset me. That I am upset. That I'm allowed to be upset. I still don't know what to do with those feelings, though. I don't have any idea how to express myself clearly without offending others, or channel that anger (or whatever) in any way that isn't merely destructive. I guess this post is an example of that.
I've tried to be open about this issue. Tried to express that it's something that concerns me, and that I want feedback on it. That I would like some help. But none of you know me, and I don't get the feeling that any of you are interested in helping me work through this crap.
If that's true, then I wish someone would just say so, and I'll take my stupid, petty issues elsewhere. If it's not, then I wish people could be a little more gentle and direct about the things they think I need to work on.
(this is Julian on Randall's computer at work)
Re: (this is Julian on Randall's computer at work)
Instead, how about this: What would be the proper venue to express that I'm upset? I didn't bring it up while we were out, because I felt that was wrong. I hoped to be able to talk about it to some of my out-of-state friends, but this was too busy a weekend for them. I waited until a few days had passed to calm down before writing about it on my LJ. I didn't feel like there was anyone specific that I could talk to about it.
I stuck it under a cut, so that people who weren't interested wouldn't have to read it. I feel I've made it clear that I use my LJ to express those things that I'm uncomfortable discussing with people face to face, that if people don't want to be subjected to my unhealthy inability to channel my emotions, they should read
What should I be doing differently? Because I really don't know.
Re: (this is Julian on Randall's computer at work)
So basically you're saying, "Hi, I'm going to be using my LJ to occasionally talk shit about people you probably know (or you yourself) in a public venue... so don't read it if that bothers you! It's just me working out my shit!"
To get a little more constructive, how about a private journal?
Re: (this is Julian on Randall's computer at work)
If you think the subject of plays like Heroine should be discussed more openly, then why do you feel I should have a private journal? Maybe that's an overly generous metaphor, given how seriously I take matters of child- and sexual abuse, but I'm working through an experience that we usually leave in the dark. One that I discovered, after getting out of it, a lot of my friends have been through but never discussed with me, because "no one wants to hear about it."
I think people should hear about it. I think people should see it. I think my own story is pretty pathetic by comparison to others, but they don't talk about it.
This is how I react to the world. This is what I did to myself in an effort to hold on to something I should have let go of.
You don't think that's worth showing?
Granted, I'm a diagnosised narcissist, so of course I'm going to think my own story is worth telling.
Re: (this is Julian on Randall's computer at work)
And, I'm sorry, but using your emotional problems as an excuse for being an asshole just isn't okay in my book.
Re: (this is Julian on Randall's computer at work)
(julian still)
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I really have no response to that. How can anyone who has seen it assume anything but a careful choice of that word, after seeing Heroine? That what upset me, upset me to the point where I wanted to lash out violently?
I assumed that my choice not to discuss the details of what's upset me would, in itself, color the word choice. Imply that something has cut me to the core.
Re: (julian still)
Re: (julian still)
While I agree with you, I do feel it's fair to expect that people who look under one of my LJ cuts generally read under my cuts, and therefore should know more about my background than others.
Do you agree or disagree? Again, everything else has been a little bit more than I can handle, so I'd really appreciate it if we could just discuss this particular point.
Re: (julian still)
actually randall
but your responses to the criticism is always the same, falling along the general lines that whatever you said or did was blown out of proportion, grudging admittance of a possible problem accompanied with the revealation that you were angry or upset, projecting the source of that immediate anger on someone not present and expecting everyone to understand and then a staid apology that reveals very little about your motivation other than the admission of issues.
if you could actually explain to me why matt, julian, and myself are upset -- not by restating things we've already said, but your best guess of our motivation is -- in a manner that demostrates a little empathy, that would be a fine start for just about everything you're having problems with. additionally if you can think of no better reason for doing or saying something, other than to cause harm "verbal violence" or whatever, let's just make it a general rule in your case that it is not a good idea to go through with it especially if somewhere down the line you desire some kind of amiable, positive, and production relationship with whoever's involved.
you may have gotten used to conflict as a way of getting closer, as a way of remaining engaged with people, but it's truly a bunch of nonsense, wasted energy, aimless combustion. try to work towards a solution. if there is no solution to be found (and those would be those years long grudges and conflicts you're nourishing) it's best to leave it cold and dead. you usually are well aware of this immediately, sooner not later.
Re: actually randall
Fair enough. I don't know you well enough to know where you're coming from, though, and that makes something I have a hard time doing harder still.
when you ask for help, I'm of the mind that you're asking for a pass
Part of my problem is that my egotistical exterior is built to hide the fact that I'm very unsure of my self-worth. It comes across as asking for a pass because underneath, I assume that no one is willing to help, that if I ask for help, everyone will respond, "sorry, I'm too busy."
Particularly given that I still feel new to our group of friends, and that I feel like I'm still being weighed for acceptance, my assumption that you (or anyone in Chicago) would not be willing to offer help grows even stronger.
When help is offered, I have a hard time accepting it because I'm used to such offers being false. I can't really explain it coherently, except to say that it's a lot like what happens if you hit a dog every time you show him a treat. I assume offers of help are just a devious method of trying to make me feel even worse about myself.
but your responses to the criticism is always the same...
Well, yes. When I'm emotionally keyed up, I lose control and fall back into habits I dislike. I've exploded, and I don't know how to put the pin back in the grenade.
While a number of alternate methods have been suggested, so far I've only been able to try them when I'm calm. Further, I can't shake the sense that an effort to legitimately apolgize will be rebuked, and used to further attack me.
if you could actually explain to me why matt, julian, and myself are upset
I'm not going to hazard a guess about Matt's motivations, because I clearly don't understand them. I think you and Julian are upset over word choice, feel that some words are more emotionally charged than others, and by default attack the notion of equality. I assume you feel that, far worse than the actual offense, my unwillingness to take ownership of it is an unwillingness to respect other people's points of view.
let's just make it a general rule in your case that it is not a good idea to go through with it
But.....that's why I haven't been talking to anybody, or going out with any of you. Because I feel like my ability to control this garbage has slipped, and I'd rather people not see me like that. When I have gone out, I've said practically nothing to anyone because I'm constantly assessing my intent. I came out for Heroine, which touched on a lot of raw nerves about a lot of those things that I've had to leave cold and dead, and now I feel like I've blundered even worse.
...conflict as a way of getting closer...truly a bunch of nonsense, wasted energy, aimless combustion.
This much I realize. It's the step past that which I am struggling to find.
Re: actually randall
nope not really. I'm pretty comfortable making this a blanket statement that covers the lot of us even though I haven't spoken to matt about any of this and I never really asked her why she was pissed. you see that's the thing with friends; you really ought to listen to them even with all the noise in your head. enough time passes and you get a feel for their likes, dislikes, motivations and what they stand for. we're not just a collective bunch that gets together for play dates. it's all out there right out in the open if you pay attention.
so even though I said you shouldn't make everything about you, this is actually all about you, how you consistently behave like a bastard and try to sell each instance as an isolated incident and force us to decide if we feel like going through this nonsense again. matt thinks you were commenting about someone we all know and love in a completely cowardly manner and I think that as well. if that's not bad enough you use a word that many cowardly overgrown boys use to describe woman they fully intend to harm seconds after going on about how much you appreciated a performance that was all about women surviving experiences with the aforementioned losers; I'm guessing that's about when julian got perturbed. it's not just the one word, it's your past history, your lack of learning, your dubious rationalizations.
we're just sick of your shit is all. good luck with working that out.
Re: actually randall
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Okay, I can see how that would give off the wrong impression.
I was talking about my Pittsburgh friends.
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You never use anyones "real" or LJ names when you pull these stunts. It's always these cutsey nicknames you make up for everyone. If you have something to say to someone, just fucking say it.
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Let me be really clear about this: While I agree that I have the issues that have been repeatedly pounded out here, I was not passively-aggressively telling someone that I was mad at them. I was venting. I was complaining that a phone call had ruined my weekend.
I heard through an unverified source that my ex-wife had decided that should couldn't handle the responsibility of taking care of three cats, and so she had mine put to sleep.
I'd say the things I have to say to her if I could, but we've agreed to only speak through our lawyers, and while I'm upset, I'm not so upset that I want to yell at her through lawyers.
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Fifteen boxes is simply unexceptable.
Unacceptable.
I'm re-reading this entry, and wondering where all the feelings are.
Yeh, that's why I end up giving comments like these (above) to your most well-written entries. Good save at the end, though. The metaphors, man! *wishes she could raise eyebrow*
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Even now, there are things I'm unwilling to admit to, or discuss openly. I feel like there's something to the fact that both this post and the one you and I argued about around Christmas both included complaints that I'm being inarticulate.
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Ok, I've been quiet too long, and I need to speak up here.
Dude, I'm calling you on the simple fact that your passive/aggressive tendencies (case in point here) are no longer acceptable in my book.
To illustrate better what I mean, here is my perception of how you operate nine times out of ten:
Amul: [say something underhanded and/or passive aggressive, in a attempt to be witty]
Someone else: [calls you on it]
Amul: [backpedals and tries to cover it with some sort of really thin BS]
You are not being witty when say these kinds of things and you certainly are not slipping *anything* under the radar. It's plain as day how insecure you are, and your constant attempts to bolster your ego at the expense of those around has grown beyond tiring to me, and is fast approaching annoying.
Take a good hard look at yourself. No, seriously. Try for once to take a third person perspective and see how much of an ass you project yourself being on a regular basis. Ask yourself a few fundamental questions before you open your mouth, such as "Does what I'm about to say, does in fact, have some sort of ulterior agenda?" or "Perhaps now would be a good time to just be quiet and not try and be the center of attention".
OK, I'm done here. I'll end this by saying passive/aggressive tendencies are *so* not OK in my book.
Egan
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I seriously, seriously have been. I've been trying very hard to stop. It's been going pretty badly of late, which is one of the reasons why I've stopped being so social. I stopped going to Wednesdays in the fall to join a therapy group.
The bottom line is, I can't see when it's happening, and I don't know how to be direct, even when I want to be.
I dunno. You're a cool guy, Egan, and I'd like to be someone you could respect, but I don't think I am right now, and right now I suspect that it's going to take me a lot of years to get there.
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Do what you need to do. Take care of your shit, and don't air your dirty laundry. And, don't just talk about, just do it. In time, you'll find that you won't have to try so hard at gaining the respect of those around you, you just will.
Egan
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You're arguing over semantics, and getting so worked up over them that you completely miss one another. I agree that a private journal is a reasonable suggestion, but I also think that it avoids the issue. You don't seem to know each other as well as you think you do. You all want everything spelled out for you, t's crossed and i's dotted.
Be thankful that you differ, and that you have something to learn about everyone here. Your perception colors everything, and you don't own your words, either. I count that as a beautiful thing. Invest your differences in something productive, please.
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Wow...miss a day, miss alot
everything you have all said about amul is true. omni, you know i have been telling you these same things for years. but seriously, this is his journal, and public or not, it is still his right to voice what he thinks and feels in a forum that he feels he can express himself in. i have no idea about the play or what charged all of this up, but i will say that as a survivor of some of the most heinous acts that can be done to a child or a woman, the word BITCH is not exactly high on my list of things to get pissed about. it is the intent with which the word is used. granted, omni, you are NOT always the most sensitive to those around you andthe fact that you piss people off on a regular basis and then try to make up for it by offering excuses and half assed apologies. but the rest of you are no better, attacking someone without knowing the facts, automatically jumping to conclusions about who or what he is writting about, and attacking his choice to make the subject of his posts semi annonymous. when he acts up in public, call him on it right away or walk away. and omni, back of the hyper-defensivness when someone does call you on your shit. eventually, no one is going to want to "help" you when all you do is lash out or make lame excuses when you do. if i have offended anyone, that was not my intent, and i'm sure alot of you will be quick to jump all over me for commenting on something i was not a part of, but as his best friend for 16 years, i know better tahn anyone how he can be and how he can be percieved and how poorly he can communicate. i'm not making excuses for him, and i'm not trying to attack him or any of you. you have all made some very valid points. but you have all also lashed out in a rather harsh manner at someone who just really is that clueless. he shouldn't be, granted, but he is. so everyone take a deep breath, and try to find a point to go from here. ok, i'll step off my soapbox now.