Ground Control to Major Tom...

Well....


About a month after I had set the original dealine, this is the end. After I get all the archived entries saved in my LJ, I'm cutting the account. If you're still looking for me, I have decided to keep my Myspace page, as many friends and family contact me on it.

It's been a long road, lots of ups and downs, lots of darker moments, but I'm glad I'm here right now, and I'm sure I couldn't be here without moving through everything else. This journal was with me in Japan and college, and that perhaps is where most of the sentiment lies.

I'm keeping my thoughts now privatley in a hand-written journal. Any previews of my art or writing you'll have to ask me for directly. If you're looking for me, and don't have my contact info, you can find me as Alice Underground on my space.

Thanks again for reading and sharing with me.

I wish you all the best in life.

"The earth does not belong to man; man belongs to the earth.
All things are connected like the blood that unites one family.
Man did not weave the web of life; he is merely a strand in it.
Whatever he does to the web, he does to himself."

Buddhist culture beholds that every breath we take, we become a new person. We die and are reborn almost faster than we can fathom. This then, allows the Buddhist doctrine of non-attatchment to make sense. Why would we want to hold onto what is dead? Hold it for too long and it will begin to rot, and make you ill.
Boston is better than I ever dreamed it would be. There are disenchantments; problems that don't go away simply because I like my job and to an extent, where I'm living. I have nothing to cry-out about.
I am strong; so strong. So I must ask, what happens to a woman who has built her whole life on this stoic strength? The quiet refusal of help (an admition to weakness and therefore imperfection) when truly it was the touch, and the bonding I so craved, even if I did not truly need the aid? It seems to me sometimes, that I have spent a great deal of my life afraid to reach out, at times for something as trifling as a hug, simply because I was afraid of the need becoming rejected. Perhaps there were times when it had been; the notion must come from somewhere.
And now, when I'm so strong, when I'm just starting to prove it to myself, through and through, that I can stand on my legs, and they'll carry me (nevermind that my right knee has the disturbing habit of giving out from beneath me when I try to hike now...), I can only begin to understand what it is that I want, and be so terriffied by both the having and the not having of it.
There are two kinds of strength. False and true. I beleive I have always carried both. Quiet and unassuming in some ways, a martyr in others. (Someone please LOOK at me...I just want to feel special and know that someone understands how hard I try...who can convince me that I deserve what I want...)The true stregth in me has always been taken for granted in some ways.
It is obvious to me that there are a few burial shrouds I should be casting off. I will if I can ever figure out where the hem is. I know what I want. I crave it with a stoic certainly that also goads me into believing that I will never, ever have what I want. I don't deserve it. Hope can be terrible in that way, but I am so much serenity now. I am satisfied with my work, my learning. I hope to nourish creativity, although how I expect to write any stories of love without having experienced the like I'm not certain.
The raging in my blood has died down. It's quiet now; no longer a burning need. It isn't raw; the infected, festering wound it once was. I think now it's a scar, pale against the honey-gold of my skin, offset slightly by the increasingly numerous freckles that set me to fretting about skin cancer. Maybe it's lurking beneath the tatoo in the small of my back; college and Japan and my life wrapped up and painted into a graceful crane, the bough of a sugi, and the rising sun.
Maybe I'm just older now, tired and grown up. Quiet and complacent. Or maybe I'm just wiser, more patient. Or maybe I'm finally understanding that there are things that I have to do for me first, even if that means I'll always be doing them for me and not sharing them with anyone else. Maybe you won't see a white flag above my door, but something neutral and unassuming. The door is open, when I can manage to get it and keep it that way. With more practice I might even be able to sweep the walkway and make things more inviting. Admitedly it's hard to feel the sensuous sinews of my body, appreciate the golden hue of my skin, the rich darkness of my hair and the light of my beautiful smile when I think that I'm the only one who does.
And then again, it's rewarding to feel so attractive in my own skin. (Although I must mind the diet, as this month has gone to seven shades of hell for it...)....
And I think, eventually, whether the shadow I continue to see out of the corner of my eyes shows himself or not, I will be happy and full. Always.

"I will lean into you
and you can be the wind.
I will open my mouth,
and you can come rushing in.
You can rush in so hard,
Make it so I can't breathe...
Yeah I breathe too much anyway,
I can do that any day...

I just wish I knew who you were,
I wish you'd make yourself known
You probably don't realize I'm her
the woman you want to call 'home'
I'll keep my ear to the wall,
I'll keep my eye on the door.
Cuz I heard all my own jokes,
and they just aren't funny anymore...
Yeah I laugh too much anyways,
I can do that any day..." (Ani DiFranco)

Yeah...

SO the nice guy I sat and chatted with all night at the AMC pot luck dinner? You know, the one who I rode home on the train with and gave my e-mail and phone number to?
Turns out he's one of the guys I messaged on Yahoo Personals. That didn't write me back. Which, whatever, that's fine...

So now I'm sure the reason I haven't heard from him is because he thinks I'm stalking him. And really, the whole coincidence is kinda creepy. I was just staring at my personals page (getting ready to shut it down...)and I kept looking at his picture thinking 'damn, I've seen that guy somewhere before...' Which is what I kept thinking when I met him at the pot luck.

Creepy, creepy, creepy...Hopefully he doesn't think I'm a stalker. (I wouldn't lower myself :) )

A little, informal timeline if you will; not entirely accurate, as its off the top of my head:


It is a shock to the system, at times, this new world I live in.
When I was growing up, our computer did not run on Windows anything. Windows was a word to me that defined an unfamiliar, highly advanced machine; something I might never see in my lifetime.
Our home computer ran DOS. Yes, DOS, that language now mysterious to most of us, especially most of the younger generations, that speaks directly to the center of your computer. A direct, firm, simple command, that is executed in a like fashion. Information was stored on a flat device that was about 5 inches square. I still remember laser discs. And no, I'm not talking about the compact kind that fit in your CD player.
I remember the internet, in 6th grade. It was going to change the world in unimaginable ways. To a sixth grader, the concept was a little unbeleivable. It just meant neater computers that didn't run on DOS that came with neater games - with graphics and color. In middle school, I learned the most basic of ways to make those graphics, and the mystery evaporated.
When I was a teenager, the internet was hot. Chat rooms were in full chique, and EVERYBODY had an AOL AIM screen name. MP3's were just starting to catch on, and WAV files were pretty big too. Most research that was 'internet' based was still considered to be only partially valuable - the rest had to be done at a library. Most 'internet' research was also an excuse to dick off online during school hours. Personal internet research, however, was quite the buzz. There were so many things online then - music and photos - information from all over the world that would otherwise have taken weeks, months, or years to divine. Most of us took the enormity of that for granted.
By college, information sharing was huge, and people began paying attention to things like copyrighting and plagarism. Suddenly issues of college students plagarizing from the internet became pertinent, and experpts or information from websites needed to be properly credited and documented. Suddenly all of the 'free' information became un-free. Napster, WinMX, and others began slowly losing their right to serve free music exchanges, court cases arose, and the media industry sank its teeth firmly into the pulse of electronic sharing. Viruses, a still slightly forgein concept, seemed to mutate just as organic viruses do, multiplying into the thousands as new, specific, and vicious viruses came to the forefront, attacking in sneakier ways and doing things only previously imagined.
And in all this time, so fast this happened, that people, myself included, lost sight about what this meant for privacy and personal copyright issues. We threw peices of ourselves; at times highly private, important pieces, into the elctronic torrent, without remembering, that absence of a physical paper trail did NOT mean that we had left no trace of ourselves. In fact, this made things more dangerous, more deadly.
I shop online often. It's convenient, and at times the only way to get things I want or need when I need them. I bank online. It helps me do a terriffic job of keeping my checkbook balanced. Everything is instant now.
I rarely pause or hesitate in fear. Why should I? The masses have already trod before me, and they seem to be doing alright.
But identity theft is also on the rise. Identity theft. Can you imagine? I can't. If you had asked me when I was 10 I would have asked you what sci-fi movie you were talking about.
I wonder, in the end, what parts of us will be left sheltered. Only the deepest, darkest parts, that we hide from even ourselves? Or will those gradually be peeled away from us, exposed to daylight, scrutinized, investigated, categorized and wedged onto a millions-long marketing list?
They're saying, now, that they're working on technology to record the memories of man. They think it will be helpful, so we don't have to remember ourselves. I don't want somehting to remember for me. I don't want something to make me easier to find, market, or sell to. I don't want pieces of myself to be sold or bartered for.

Its the end. It really is. The ending of an era of innocence and naievete that most people won't realize until years after it happens, and the effects cannot be contained.

It's the end of this journal. I'm taking a leaf from Meg's book. After June 1st,I'm closing this account down. I'm closing down myspace. I'm closing down facebook. If I want you to contact me, you already have my information. And if I were you, I wouldn't wait around to see what happens next.

This week I am a bit on the mellower side. I think I will join the Japan society in Boston. I may also take part in a volunteer program via Harvard to aide international students. I am hoping to make some Japanese friends so that maybe I can stop being so obsessive about the things that I miss, which I think just translates to Japan being a huge hobby that got overfed while I was there and now just needs some fuel. I'm hoping if I start doing things like the Japan Society, I'll shut up about Japan and my weird interests. I've been feeling that they have no place in daily conversation anymore. It's hard though, it's like erradicating a year of life's experience, especially one so important, being the first year out of college, and so different. I've started just mentioning relevant stories that come up in conversation and leaving Japan out of the description. I feel kind of stupid that I still think about it so much. I think that I just need to do things for myself, to nurture my own soul, and stop trying to find other people to be passionate with. That never seems to work well with me. People just aren't as interested as I can be in my hobbies.
Converesly, I'm not all that interested in other people's hobbies in certain areas. Sports, for example, I know nothing of, and really don't care about. Talking about stats and players' performances is a quick way to throw my interest out the window.
At least, however, I am working in a place where everyone loves nature, the environment, and the outdoors. I think we're all a bit fanatic about it, and I'd be worried if we weren't. It's a nice new feeling to be working with others who share a common interest and foundation. I'm hoping to make some friends who are maybe moving at my pace. People that might be more at my level of freedom and relaxation. Casual friendships are fine, so are work-related ones. As long as I have people to spend time with so that I don't get to be anti-social again. I'm a long way from home, and I think everyone there is already preoccupied with their own life paths that flow in different directions. This one is mine, and I need to find some people on it. I'm scared, I'm older now, but I guess that's to my benefit. I'm a little clearer on myself and my interests. Thank goodness.

And since I'm rambling, I'm done. I need to get back to work anyways.

Wow.

Lot's of consufing things here - with AP/GL. It's worse for me since the only account I have ever balanced is my own. And everything kind of gets mentally divided but ends up coming from the same place. Doesn't help that most of this needs to be learned in about two days, in addition to the other stuff I'm doing already. At least there's never a dull moment. :) I'll have something to do at work for quite some time.

I trust myself to get all this, as long as I write it down. This position seems pretty complex. In other sadder news, MA income tax is a flat rate 5.3%, which is .3% higher than CT's highest. :( Jerks.

I am going home again this weekend, and again on the 5th. I laid down the law after that. I'm NOT going home unless it's a major holiday. Told everyone, on both sides of the family. It's ridiculous, expensive, and prevents me from building a life up here.

Once things settle down, I'm thinking about picking up a part-time second job, both so that I have some extra $$ cushioning so I sleep better at night, and also so I can have a bit of fun in the city. It's such an exciting place, and I've only seen like a 10 block radius. Quincy market is about 5 min from where I work, and there are all stores and shops there. A couple of flourists were hiring, some specialty book stores, and a couple of coffee shops, offering flexible part time scheduels. I'm also hoping to meet people by working in places like these in the city.

The other option is Boston Cares, a huge umbrella volunteer organization, that does tons of cool things, or the Appalacian Mt. Club, which charges a yearly 35$ membership fee.

I'll research all these areas and see what I come up with. I love living in the city so far. So many things at my fingertips, hiking nearby still, and culture galore! I have plans to check out China town and the University/COllege ESL programs to see if there are any chances of exchanging Japanese language for English language tutoring.

It's all so exciting. I haven't been this stimulated in a long time. There's so much, and even within The Nature Conservancy there's so much to see and do.

I'll have to make sure my head doesn't explode....

Signing off! :)

I wonder how it is, that the obstacles in my path at times seem to gather and wait, like the soft shadows of twilight in a narrow alley, the only visible discernment a glowing cigarette ember or perhaps the sudden muting of light glistening on the wet, slimy pavement. Things are going well, but the 'clack' 'clack' of business shoes on the sidewalk morphs into the grating sound of a body dragged into the darkness. Despite the ease of transition (I wonder?), it feels as if I am wandering around in soft twilight, alone and uncertain. Foot falls sharp and staccato, the frantic rhythm of nervousness, the bite and dip of the stomach before a fall.

Nicole, it seems, has lost her memory of everything. Her identity, her family, the time, the year. And this on the heels of an already angry, complicated feeling that has been building itself carefully around my home-life relationships for years in running, approaching capacity.

The monotony of work and the commute has quieted me, and loneliness sweeps in like the tide into an ocean cave. It is not the distance, but alienation, equal parts of it by my own hand, equal parts of it the pushing away of others. I still don't understand myself. I find my understanding of the world and it's workings somewhat on it's head. The familiar escapes of childhood no longer function. It is as if someone has flipped a switch, suddenly, and here I am standing, on an alternate landscape aware that some of the rules will have to be relearned, but not sure which ones, or how.

The fear is gripping, but I embrace it. I know it means good things. I know that I can do this. I have faith in my ability to navigate my family relations and new way of life equally and with zeal. I have been freed from the 'family knows best' obligations and can work on my own terms. I simply need to create them.

It's dangerous, but I'll embrace the shadows on my path with full acceptance. They will make me stronger, better, more beautiful.

Hmm...Long time no update I guess.

I am leaving for my little room in Quincy in two days. That's not a lot of time, and people are reacting as if I am leaving for Japan again, so I have been so busy. I have also wound up spending way more money than I wanted to in some areas and less in others. Everything is chaos and up in the air. I am very excited and nervous and I have totally been pigging out, which will have to be reigned in once I get up there.

Life is a mess and I love it. :)

Song lyrics of the day:
Regina Spektor Samson Lyrics

"You are my sweetest downfall
I loved you first, I loved you first
Beneath the sheets of paper lies my truth
I have to go, I have to go
Your hair was long when we first met

Samson went back to bed
Not much hair left on his head
He ate a slice of wonder bread and went right back to bed
And history books forgot about us and the bible didn't mention us
And the bible didn't mention us, not even once

You are my sweetest downfall
I loved you first, I loved you first
Beneath the stars came fallin' on our heads
But they're just old light, they're just old light
Your hair was long when we first met

Samson came to my bed
Told me that my hair was red
Told me I was beautiful and came into my bed
Oh I cut his hair myself one night
A pair of dull scissors in the yellow light
And he told me that I'd done alright
and kissed me 'til the mornin' light, the mornin' light
and he kissed me 'til the mornin' light

Samson went back to bed
not much hair left on his head
Ate a slice of wonderbread and went right back to bed
Oh, we couldn't bring the columns down
Yeah we couldn't destroy a single one
And history books forgot about us
And the bible didn't mention us, not even once

You are my sweetest downfall
I loved you first"


(This is such a pretty love song - all piano...)

Yeah. So that's it.
I'm leaving.
They called and offered me the job. At the highest end of the pay scale that had been listed on the position description. It's 35 hours a week instead of 40, but that only means it evens out. Benefits are excellent. The company is one I've desired to work for. The position is entry level, but challenging, with potential for growth.

I'm not saying no this time. I'm not backing off. I'm not stepping down. This is an oporttunity I have waited for, and it was difficult to find. I would be crazy to say no. So I won't.

The next time you see me, maybe it'll be while I'm waving from Boston. In the mean time, I'm going to close a couple ongoing stories tomorrow. My boss needs her two weeks. And I think Adam needs his. He's coming over tomorrow, and I think I'm going to tell him then.

And before anyone raises an eyebrow, I'm not saying no to him out of fear, or revulsion, or annoyance. I hardly think about him when he isn't around. I don't desire him. I think he's a nice guy. But beyond that, I'm not drawn. And that's not fair to him. It isn't fair to me either. And if I think I'm going to take a minimal attraction and make it work long distance, I'm crazy again. And I'm not going to have him putting all that effort in either.

But at least I know. At least I'm not scared anymore. I wish I felt something. I really do with all my heart. I think it's going to hurt him, and I hate that. But I don't think there's a better course of action. If I wasn't leaving, maybe I could have waited longer, but I'm not going to need another worry with the now frantic apartment search, tying of loose ends, and getting into my new job; commuting routes, company policies, traning, etc..

It's going to be tough, but so exciting. It feels right. And you can all raise your eyebrows and shake your heads, but life isn't worth living without risks. And this one I'm taking. This one is worth taking.

So in the aftermath of an evening spent testing affectionate waters, and in a much more mellow mood, I investigate.

I wondered, if I let myself be touchy-feely, if I matched his affection and initiated some of my own, if I could fall into a relationship slowly, like falling into a dance. It felt like a game; a silly little game that I played without meaning. Each kiss was questing, each touch or allowance of touch was a question that sought to be answered.

But standing there, towards the end of the evening, the original answer to Andys question 'are you attracted to him', came rolling back through my head as a firm 'no'. Each day that passes, I am less certain as to wether these are my own issues, or if I genuinley am not attracted to him.

Small things, (like his openness with both burping and farting...) began to turn me off. Things like the weight on his body, the shape of it. I have no desire, to hold him to my chest. I let him hold on to me, let him bury his nose at the junction of my neck and shoulder and breathe deeply, I even let him get away with lightly smaking my rear a time or two, but I rarely initiate these things myself. I do not feel the pull to do so. I keep thinking 'I am not going anywhere, I need to explain this to him, he is clinging to me so much...'. And I keep wishing I had more experience so I would know; so I could tell if I am not interested genuinley, so I could know what is common behavior and when someone is being too clingy. My large, sharp gaze shadows the movements and interactions of my two other, more comfortable friends; both of them experienced. They seem to have no qualms being cozy towards the end of the night, and they look attractive together. Part of me feels a little resentful that I have worked so hard, lost nearly 20 lbs (I am down to 161 today...), toned and tanned, and cannot seem to attract a mate of a similar build. I mildly berate myself for being vainly biased and try remind myself that I am no Kate Moss either.

But still it is hard. I find my other male companion more attractive than the man I am dating physically, and begin to wonder once more where my issues stop and normal hormone levels and behaviours kick in.


How do I deal with this? Adam seems to me to be coming on intensly. He is so inerested in this; seemingly FAR more than I am, and I don't want to lead him on by playing a mimicry game only to find that it genuinley turns out to be a lie. When we kiss, he seems agressive, and eventually pries his way inside my mouth. When I shared my first open mouthed kiss with a man I had never met before, despite being sloppy, he was gentle and sensual, and I found it easy to reciprocate and not embarass myself. Adam's kiss was hard and fast, and I was embarassed at my lack of ability to respond. He seems to have no problem taking. In the aftermath, I consider this, and wonder if maybe he is more for the physical and less for the emotional.

In the end, at 2 am on Saturday night/Sunday morning, I am left feeling like my touch was curious and seeking a warm body, but the physicality of our evening did not stir anything within me. There was no frissure of sensation when his arms wrapped around me, no thrill at his kiss. I felt passive, content to let him get his fill, curious at seeing how far he wanted to push the physical affection, and a sort of intelectual curiosity in my responses and intiations. I feel guilty. I feel like I am leading him on. I respond in kind to his texts messages, affirm the cutsey things he says in both text and phone conversation, but I don't feel like they have meaning. Just a curious sort of 'Is this how it's done? Is this what people do when they like each other? What if I learn how to dance the dance and then realize that I was never interested to begin with? His silly, corny sense of humor at times grates at my nerves; his constant need to talk to me is annoying, despite my initiation here or there, he has not slowed. His lack of discretion In less appealing bodily functions irks me; if we were only friends it would bother me less, but it is somehow different when I may be trying to pursue a relationship. I am not close enough nor fond enough of him to not have things like that be unbothersome.

The more time that passes between that second date and now, the more my interest seems to be flat lining.

Am I being stupid? Should I take advantage of the situation to gain experience? It feels then like I am using him. I can only pretend affection for so long. The only genuine affection I feel stirring within me is that of a possible friendship. I had felt the same way about Andy when I met him; initially repulsed and annoyed by him, later affectionate in a platonic way, but never the desire to date.

I don't know what to do anymore. I don't know what to think or how to deal with this, mostly because I'm messing with someone else's feelings here too, which makes me nervous. I plan on talking to him soon about some things. I really do need to let him know that I'm a much more casual person, that the constant calling and need for communication is wearing on my nerves, that I really do need space. I need to know that he isn't going to put me at the center of his universe. It's way, way too early for anything like that, if anything like that happens at all. He needs to have a life outside of mine. The past week I found myself mildly excited about our conversations, about what he represented, about a potential relationship. I decided to go in Friday night with open curoisity, and I followed his lead as best I was able. Nerves were really not the issue at all. I was so releived. But somehow, unlike the last time, where distance and time made me soften, now they are only making me logically doubtful.

I wonder how to clarify my choices, and what choices to make. I am defining what I need and want so slowly, mimicing him in the mean time without genuine affection that I wonder how much damage I may be doing, or what kind of road I'm walking down. I can't think of a good way to do this. I feel like the pressure is on to sort out my feelings quickly and with clarity, and it's so slow in coming. My emotions and my mind are tied in with my fantasy, which I feel is unrealistic. Adam doesn't fit into any of my fantasies, at all. There isn't a part of him I've met yet that meets anything I thought would attract me into a relationship. Everytime someone askes me about how I feel about him, I find myself parroting the same 'He's a nice guy. Kind of interesting.' I can't elaborate. I can't say anything more. I can't expand upong that. Beyond the politeness of the response, after two weeks, I can't find any reasons or anything nicer or more elaborate to say. 'He's curteous...'

Am I a bad person?

Am I so damaged or blocked off that I can't have a relationship? I've been attracted to other men before...

If I don't get into this, should I pretend just to have the experience?

If I don't do this, is this it for me in relationships? I'm so uninterested in it, but it's not like I have so many choices around lying in wait...I'm getting older...what if saying no to this means saying no to it forever?

What's wrong with me?