Friday, January 10, 2014
Busy Break
I've bit a bit of a mess since I've gotten back from Canada for winter break. As usual, I had an allergic reaction to my parent's house, which seems to have morphed into a proper chest cold. I'm sleeping lots, and hacking up an ungodly amount of unpleasantness. It doesn't help that it was a really busy break - there was lots to do and see and people to spend time with, so my amount of quality down-time was pretty low. There was even a surprising amount of late nights. My sleep deficit, I have to say, probably hasn't improved much since I finished classes in December. As a result, I find myself being reluctant to leave my bed before 1:30PM.
I'm pretty out of it.
But with precious few days left before classes resume, the pressure is mounting. There's homework to do, and I think my long list of things to write/blog about needs to be addressed before it becomes too late to address them. And, oh boy, it just happens to be the perfect tool for procrastinating my school work just a little bit longer.
This winter break was... Fragmented. Splintered, even. People coming and going all the time. The only time my entire family was together was for my sister's wedding, so we didn't even get time alone as a family. It's kind of a shame, but it's also life. Everyone (yours truly excluded) now has a significant other of some sort, complete with plans and obligations of their own. Which, don't get me wrong, is pretty great. It just starkly illuminates the fact that we're all moving on, and the core family I grew up in is no longer the family that takes priority. Oh life. You're so... Relentless.
I visited my home town first. I dropped in to see my high school IT professor, who I got pretty close to during my senior year there. I try to drop in whenever I have the chance, which is about once every 2-3 years. It's just a basic check-in and catch up, but I can tell he appreciates it. And for the support he gave me through my time at that school, it's the least I can do.
The stars somehow managed to align so that I could spend a day with an old friend that I probably hadn't seen in... Seven or eight years. Shaun. We went on some pretty divergent paths... Him getting married and working up north, getting divorced, and now living off of employment insurance back in the Greater Vancouver Area with a new girlfriend. Apparently, they don't share any common ground in terms of what they watch, so they mounted two 50" TVs side-by-side in the living room with headphones. He also told me that he loves customer service and working or interacting with random people. It was good catching up. He was always kind of a quirky dude.
I stayed with my sister's family (her, my awesome brother-in-law, and their ~1 year old girl) for most of my time there. I haven't really been that close to them before, but it was good to be around them and play with my niece. She's a cute kid. My sister and her husband are really polar-opposite people in some regards, though, and it's neat to see how well they compliment eachother.
My younger sister had a wedding between Christmas and New Years, which was announced 5-6 weeks before it happened (that's a story in and of itself). It was small, maybe 20 or so people were there (about 16 of which were from my side of the family). On one hand, I liked how intimate and simple it was... But on the other, it didn't feel like a wedding. At my sister's request, I played the photographer. I hated it. I hate shooting people. Can't stand it. I pretty much did candid stuff from the sidelines while various other relatives handled the formal shots, but still. I don't quite have the skill for it, and it shows. Alas, my sister and new brother-in-law seemed happy, and that's what counts. More power to 'em.
My brother, who was practically my best friend growing up, was pretty busy this year with his serious girlfriend and her two daughters. I got to spend a bit of time with him, hanging out and baking for an evening and shopping for a day. I later taught him how to drive stick in his gf's car. On previous breaks, we'd hang out a long and I'd always hang out at his place, but... Things have changed of course, and the time we spent together felt more like a token of what we used to do. Life marches on, and it's the end of an era. Kind of a bummer, but that's how it works.
I spent a little bit of time with my father, going for lunch together and hanging out at the elementary school where he works for a short time. It's quite something to see him at work... I feel like his profession has always been a total mystery to me, despite the fact that he was working at all the elementary school's I've ever attended as a child. A week or so after that, the two of us went out kayaking together on a calm, cool BC lake. The air was crisp as we meandered to the mouth of the river and back. At one point, there was a pair of bald eagles flying and calling to eachother. It's a pretty magnificent sound, and one I had almost forgotten was a part of every day life when I used to live in a northern native fishing village. Being on the lake, in nature like that... So beautiful and vast and calm and perfect... Unbelievable.
After coming back from kayaking, I sat down with my mom to learn about the traditional craft of Ukrainian egg decorating. It's something she'd always done as a hobby, and it was pretty fascinating to really engage with her about it. She stopped as I was becoming a teenager and picked it up again after I had left home, so what I knew of it was primarily childhood impressions. Sure, it was neat to see it again and fully comprehend the process. But as someone who has recently become an artiste, it was a real treat to witness the process first-hand (and participate - she showed me how to create my own). Even moreso, it was truly incredible to properly appreciate the skill and craft my mother possessed, that I had never really been overly aware of before. My family is full of left-brained professionals (librarians, IT admins, teachers, etc), and I've always kind of wondered how I ended up being the only one involved in a creative field. Little did I know that that was already present in our home from the get-go.
I feel like I'm getting to know my parents as people, not just my parents. Slowly, mind you. In a way it makes me really happy to connect with them more as peers, but at the same time it's heartbreaking to realize they're not quite the infallible, bullet-proof guardians you thought they were. We're all human, apparently.
Then I flew to Calgary. I should pause for a second and mention that ALL of this was possible because my aunt and uncle offered to fly me there to hang out for the entirety of the break. I made a counter-offer that if I were to fly to my original BC hometown for Christmas, they could fly me to Calgary for New Years and then back to New York afterwards. That's what they settled on, and it was a pretty cool thing they did for me. I was planning on staying alone in NY for the duration of the break, and I'm soooo glad I could spend Christmas at home and see my aunt/uncle/cousins for New Years.
We did... A bit of everything together. We cooked and ate some good food, helped my sister and her new husband move in together, went out for my belated birthday mystery international cuisine dinner (quite possibly my favourite tradition ever - we ended up doing Portuguese this year), did some bowling, I put in some gaming with my cousin, played the uke with my uncle, went skating with my aunt, and generally hung out. For New Years, we went skating out on a pond and played the customary Beatles Rock Band to usher in 2014. It was good stuff. I've been told "But you could've spent New Years in Time Square!!!!", which while true... Isn't even remotely worth that time spent with my uncle's family.
At one point I was talking with my uncle and aunt, and remarked how my uncle was a semi-father-type figure after I first moved to Calgary, helping me with car stuff and all around common sense skills and knowledge I hadn't acquired yet. He was quick to correct me, saying that I was like the younger brother he never had. We spent a morning out together, getting breakfast and then getting a killer straight razor and hot-towel shave. It was at the Best of Seven Barbers, supposedly one of the best shaves in Canada (which, for the record, was a damn fine experience). He referred to me as his 'friend' to the various people we interacted with during that morning. Again, it was one of those cool moments where I was drawing closer to someone not as a relative, but as a peer.
While I was in Calgary, I also managed to hang out at the office for a day, where I rubbed elbows with a few old co-workers and even more new ones. I also spent most of a day with a close friend/coworker, which was... Bittersweet. Then before I left, I managed to even go for a quick breakfast with a classmate that was in town before going back to Scotland to continue her Master's program.
And then I flew back to New York on a hellish day of plugged sinuses, exhaustion, delays, and transfers. I was so desperate to get home at the end of it all that I bought a public transit ticket, and after not being able to find the proper bus to get on I paid another fair to board the express shuttle that was about to depart in front of me. The last few days have been a smear of coughing and miserable sleep, with bouts of lucidity and brief productivity inbetween.
Right now I'm feeling pretty lonely. I miss all those people I left behind in Calgary, and all the family in BC. I miss all those kind souls I care about. It was pretty jarring to go from a setting where loving people were waiting, expecting to see me and hang out... To landing in a giant city full of people, none of which even know I exist, and wouldn't even care if they did know.
I was lonely when I first arrived in the summer, too, but then I was so busy and overwhelmed I didn't have time to articulate it and notice it was there. And now here it is. I'm sure I'll settle back into things and be fine within a few weeks as classes pick up. But at the same time, knowing that it'll get better doesn't necessarily make it easier. That's the frustrating part - having perspective and experience doesn't really make the current (and temporary) discomfort less distracting and more comfortable.
I have this certain desperation building in my head, where I feel like the people I care about are among the most important things I have in my life, and I don't want to miss out on them, or lose those friendships and connections. I gotta get back to Canada. Screw working in New York, I gotta get back home where I can be with the people that matter.
I know that's the loneliness talking, and I'm sure it'll fade off soon enough. But still... There are people in my life I'm glad I know, and I don't want to stop having them in my life.
-Cril
David Newman - Funeral/Rebuilding Serenity
Thursday, January 09, 2014
And if he could only hear me, this is what I'd say
It sucks to watch a friendship die a slow and painful death.
Let me tell you about Dylan.
We met on our very first day at school, before classes even began. I was one of the first people to arrive and sit down at the student orientation, and Dylan came over, introduced himself, and without hesitation asked if he could borrow a pen and paper because he forgot to bring his. And that is pretty much sums him up right there - unbelievably confident and charismatic, and hopelessly unprepared, lacking any remote trace of discipline.
He was a drinkin', smokin', partyin' loud Newfie that worked in construction, and I was a staunch Mormon awkward intellectual. Naturally, we became the best of friends.
We took several classes together, sat side by side in many of our studios, and were always there for eachother for a second opinion on our work. We didn't hang out much outside of school - I'm not an overly social person and the bar/club/partying scene isn't my schtick. But we spent more than a couple late nights working together in the studio before the security guards kicked us out into the freezing snow so the building could be locked up through the night.
Dylan is/was the most charismatic bastard I have ever met. He's funny, in a way that's deadpan and ridiculous and never quite expected. He has a loud, deep voice that you can hear from anywhere in the room, and you can tell there's seldom a filter between his mouth and brain. He knows how to lighten up anyone's day, and be wonderfully irreverent. After one student's presentation, the prof asked if anyone in the class had comments. Without missing a beat, Dylan made this horrifically hilarious dry-heaving/vomiting impression. He immediately clarified that he was joking and though the project was awesome, but that heartbeat in-between where our staunch, fearless professor was absolutely appalled... Was priceless.
We talked about this, that, and the other. He's a big music fan, and I credit him with planting seeds in me that would grow into appreciation for the Rolling Stones, The Band, and the later works of the Beatles. One day at the end of the second year, he brought an old, beaten up acoustic guitar into the school and left it there. He'd pick it up and play, making up songs on the fly and generally using it as the best method of procrastination I've ever seen in my life. After the year finished, I was so inspired that I went out and bought myself a ukulele. I eventually became known for it in my class, and the two of us would jam during lunch or after class to kill the time. I tell you, there isn't quite a feeling like jamming with someone. Serene but fun, chaotic yet guided. It really cleared your head, and there wasn't a care in the world. I really miss those late night jams. Definitely a highlight of my time at ACAD. He even gave me the steel-stringed guitar he first learned to play on. I haven't learned to play it yet... But I know that my love for the ukulele and mandolin are absolutely a result of my time around Dylan. And I'll learn to play that finger-destroying contraption some day, no doubt. He really rekindled in me a new love for music.
Dylan was a textbook case of severe extroversion. Loathed being along, always had to have the attention of everyone in the room, and lived life by the seat of his pants. Polar opposite to yours-truly. His carelessness and general whimsical disposition had a huge impact on me and how I interact with people, too. I'm a lot more relaxed and less reserved as a result of spending a lot of time around him, and can be comfortable cracking jokes that come to mind. The man knows, consciously or otherwise, how to make a lasting impression.
He has a general love for life that I appreciate, too. He's full of vices - booze, pot, women, food. He always ate out, saying that he was on a 'hamburger diet'. He wanted to move to New York at one point (and still probably does), but he knew he couldn't afford it. I sat down with him and calculate how he could afford it within a few months if he were to cut back on eating out alone. When we were looking at the results, he turned to me with a sad sincerity in his face and told me that he just isn't that kind of person - if he has money, he's going to spend it. There's no two ways about it. And spend it he did... He probably spent more on coffee/food/smoking/drinking in one week than I do on groceries for the entire month. That's just how he is. Or was.
Did I mention that he smokes? Pot, yeah, of course. But cigarettes, too. As much as a pack a day sometimes. One in the morning, one at each break throughout the day, and one whenever he wanted to get away from his school work. It really broke my heart to see that, knowing what will surely happen a few years down the line. For his birthday one year, I got him an e-cigarette to try out. He said it was awesome and perfect and he loved it. And then it broke, and he went back to ye olde cancer sticks without looking back. Sigh. That guy.
Whereas I'm predominantly strategic in my work, he is incredibly intuitive. And talented, too. If you try to sit down with him to talk about concept and planning and all that junk, he'd waffle around endlessly. But when it came time to present at the end of the semester, he'd pull something out of his ass that was... Incredible. He was able to work in pure emotional tones that I'm totally incapable of creating. What made that frustrating is that he had the work ethic of... A slacker, for lack of a better word.
He'd do all his work in the wee hours of morning before class. Sometimes he wouldn't do it at all, and would flat-out avoid checking in with the prof to give his status report and get feedback. Again, I have to emphasize that he was talented. As in, probably one of the most talented guys in the school/program. The only reason I got better grades than him most of the time was because he didn't put the hours/dedication in to really flush out a project. I found this so upsetting, and I guess I still do. I got this scholarship to New York, which I'm really proud of and glad I received. But never even for a moment believe that I was the best candidate for it. It was Dylan, beyond a shadow of a doubt. He would have loved every inch of New York, and he would have kicked serious ass in SVA. But he never even bothered applying for scholarship. That bastard. It should've been him.
At one point, even after the scholarship application deadline had passed, he told me he was just going to apply to SVA on his own, scholarship be damned. He'd do it for sure. Of course he was going to do it. Not a doubt.
He never did it.
Dylan said he'd do a lot of things he never did. Particularly at the end of our last year.
You see, he finally got into bed with the girl he'd been crushing on since we started school together. And, well, they were practically made for eachother, I guess.
It started with him saying he'd stay that evening to help me on a project I was struggling with. Then he said he'd be in on the weekend to work. He said he was going to bring in his work on Saturday so we could shoot our portfolios together. He said that four times, and never came in once. There were half a dozen similar instances like this. But that's Dylan, and I knew he had a new girl on the line, and I guess that was to be expected. But months before graduation, I spoke with him and another classmate about going out for a straight-razor shave together before the ceremony. Date set. He was reminded again and again, it was all good.
The morning off, I got a brief text telling me that he was going to have breakfast with family instead. Damn, that hurt. Not even 24hrs notice, or a call, or anything. Less than 100 letters mere hours before we were supposed to meet up. I'd been planning this for two and a half months. I mean, hell, yeah family in town is a pretty big deal. But I thought he would've recognized that maybe it meant something to me. That maybe it meant more to me than backing out using a casual blow-off text as if the whole damn thing was just an afterthought.
We went through the ceremony and barely talked. We met up once for lunch once over the summer to catch up for a bit. We talked and ate. A mutual friend had a party coming up for her birthday/going away party. At this point I knew my whole New York scholarship was on the rails and steaming ahead, so I asked him to come so we could hang out one last time. Have one last jam together. He said of course. I asked if he was going to bail on me like he had before. He said absolutely not. I told him that I had my ticket booked, and it'd be our last chance to see eachother. He told me to relax, of course he'd be there.
I reminded him a few times over the following month, leading up to the party. Each time he confirmed he'd be there.
The party rolled around, and I lugged a bunch of instruments and music over with me. I proceeded to look like a total idiot the rest of the evening, switching between noodling on my instruments and checking the door for someone that never came. I sent him FB messages and texts, and did the same to his girlfriend, asking if/when he'd be there.
I got home that evening and yelled at him on Facebook. He claimed that he had lost his phone a few weeks prior, so he didn't get any of my messages. As if, apparently, that had voided the months of reminders leading up to the party.
I told him my address for work where I'd be for the last few days leading up to my flight out, and said that I was super busy but still wanted to see him. He said he had a gift for me, and that I'd have to come to him, and maybe we could hang out on the weekend. Which was a few days after my flight out, which I had already told him about a few times.
Finally, I asked him for his address. Things were going to be tight, but I could see about borrowing a car to at least drop in quick before I shoved off.
Message seen, but no response.
I flew out.
All I wanted was one last jam together.
We used to watch each other's backs. We jammed together. We joked about gruesomely killing ourselves, in ways that only we'd find funny. We consoled each other through our respective breakups. He once told me that if he ever got married, I'd be his best man. Not to plan the party, mind you (I'd admittedly be terrible for that kind of stuff), but to stand at his side and give a speak and all that. We pondered on the future together, and listened to some good music together, and made music together. We even recorded a song together as part of a promo animation for our class' portfolio show. The one and only track ever recorded by The Little Compositions, the band we joked about starting. We were supposed to start a studio together at one point, too.
But I know he's too big for that. You're often told that "you aren't the center of the universe, you know". Dylan, though... Is one of those people that the universe does revolve around. Long before our final semester rolled around I knew our oft-discussed studio would never happen, because Dylan would end up getting hired somewhere and doing better work than I can ever do. I'm not stupid. He was one of the most incredible people I've ever met. He captures a room like no one else, and is one hell of a designer and artist.
There was a teacher's appreciation night at a pub, for all of the profs in the program, which the students attended and paid for. At the end of it as I was about to slip out the door, Dylan caught me and told me to stay in touch. Not to drift away, like he knew I would. He told me he wouldn't have made it through the program if it wasn't for me poking and nudging him and keeping him on track along the way. I told him I don't think I would've survived if it wasn't for him. Many a lump was formed in throats at that moment. We hugged and parted ways. I knew what he said was true, that I would drift off and fade away. It was kinda tragic to have my nature laid out so plainly before me.
But damn it man, if I'm drifting away, call out for you and I throw a line at your feet, you're supposed to pick it up. Instead, time after time it snaked off the dock and into the water because you couldn't be bothered to look my way.
It goes without saying that we haven't spoken since. Last I heard, him and his girlfriend are living together and are totally absorbed in eachother. He hasn't found work yet, and is instead just freelancing if/when the opportunity arises. Sucks. He could do so much better than that, if he applied himself.
I forgave him the first time he bailed on me, and the time after that, and the time after that. I even forgave him for backing out of getting shaves together. But apparently I'm just not even worth the hassle for one last goodbye.
Yeah, sure, go ahead and tell me that I'm being whiny and butthurt and I need to suck it up like a man. It still hurts when you discover your friend, the closest friend you'd had during four years of your life simply can't be bothered to be friends any more.
Hey, Dylan. I'm really glad you and Macy are getting along so well. Sucks that you had to keep bailing on me, though. I hope you hit your stride and take the world by storm. I wish you all the best. But damnit, I'm not going to forgive you so easily for this one. But because that will take any degree of effort on your behalf and you're obviously doing well enough to not even drop me a line... I guess we're through. Sucks.
It's a sad thing to watch a relationship die. But at some point I realized I didn't want to let myself be walked over again. And what good is a friend that doesn't even want to see you?
Heh. Maybe it was about time I faced the facts and realized that finished with me some time ago, before I even left.
I was just hoping for one last jam. You know, for old time's sake.
-Cril
Will the wind that blew her boat
Across the sea
Kindly send her sailing back to me
Honey pie you are making me crazy
I'm in love but I'm lazy
So won't you please come home
Come, come back to me, honey pie
Beatles - Honey Pie
Let me tell you about Dylan.
We met on our very first day at school, before classes even began. I was one of the first people to arrive and sit down at the student orientation, and Dylan came over, introduced himself, and without hesitation asked if he could borrow a pen and paper because he forgot to bring his. And that is pretty much sums him up right there - unbelievably confident and charismatic, and hopelessly unprepared, lacking any remote trace of discipline.
He was a drinkin', smokin', partyin' loud Newfie that worked in construction, and I was a staunch Mormon awkward intellectual. Naturally, we became the best of friends.
We took several classes together, sat side by side in many of our studios, and were always there for eachother for a second opinion on our work. We didn't hang out much outside of school - I'm not an overly social person and the bar/club/partying scene isn't my schtick. But we spent more than a couple late nights working together in the studio before the security guards kicked us out into the freezing snow so the building could be locked up through the night.
Dylan is/was the most charismatic bastard I have ever met. He's funny, in a way that's deadpan and ridiculous and never quite expected. He has a loud, deep voice that you can hear from anywhere in the room, and you can tell there's seldom a filter between his mouth and brain. He knows how to lighten up anyone's day, and be wonderfully irreverent. After one student's presentation, the prof asked if anyone in the class had comments. Without missing a beat, Dylan made this horrifically hilarious dry-heaving/vomiting impression. He immediately clarified that he was joking and though the project was awesome, but that heartbeat in-between where our staunch, fearless professor was absolutely appalled... Was priceless.
We talked about this, that, and the other. He's a big music fan, and I credit him with planting seeds in me that would grow into appreciation for the Rolling Stones, The Band, and the later works of the Beatles. One day at the end of the second year, he brought an old, beaten up acoustic guitar into the school and left it there. He'd pick it up and play, making up songs on the fly and generally using it as the best method of procrastination I've ever seen in my life. After the year finished, I was so inspired that I went out and bought myself a ukulele. I eventually became known for it in my class, and the two of us would jam during lunch or after class to kill the time. I tell you, there isn't quite a feeling like jamming with someone. Serene but fun, chaotic yet guided. It really cleared your head, and there wasn't a care in the world. I really miss those late night jams. Definitely a highlight of my time at ACAD. He even gave me the steel-stringed guitar he first learned to play on. I haven't learned to play it yet... But I know that my love for the ukulele and mandolin are absolutely a result of my time around Dylan. And I'll learn to play that finger-destroying contraption some day, no doubt. He really rekindled in me a new love for music.
Dylan was a textbook case of severe extroversion. Loathed being along, always had to have the attention of everyone in the room, and lived life by the seat of his pants. Polar opposite to yours-truly. His carelessness and general whimsical disposition had a huge impact on me and how I interact with people, too. I'm a lot more relaxed and less reserved as a result of spending a lot of time around him, and can be comfortable cracking jokes that come to mind. The man knows, consciously or otherwise, how to make a lasting impression.
He has a general love for life that I appreciate, too. He's full of vices - booze, pot, women, food. He always ate out, saying that he was on a 'hamburger diet'. He wanted to move to New York at one point (and still probably does), but he knew he couldn't afford it. I sat down with him and calculate how he could afford it within a few months if he were to cut back on eating out alone. When we were looking at the results, he turned to me with a sad sincerity in his face and told me that he just isn't that kind of person - if he has money, he's going to spend it. There's no two ways about it. And spend it he did... He probably spent more on coffee/food/smoking/drinking in one week than I do on groceries for the entire month. That's just how he is. Or was.
Did I mention that he smokes? Pot, yeah, of course. But cigarettes, too. As much as a pack a day sometimes. One in the morning, one at each break throughout the day, and one whenever he wanted to get away from his school work. It really broke my heart to see that, knowing what will surely happen a few years down the line. For his birthday one year, I got him an e-cigarette to try out. He said it was awesome and perfect and he loved it. And then it broke, and he went back to ye olde cancer sticks without looking back. Sigh. That guy.
Whereas I'm predominantly strategic in my work, he is incredibly intuitive. And talented, too. If you try to sit down with him to talk about concept and planning and all that junk, he'd waffle around endlessly. But when it came time to present at the end of the semester, he'd pull something out of his ass that was... Incredible. He was able to work in pure emotional tones that I'm totally incapable of creating. What made that frustrating is that he had the work ethic of... A slacker, for lack of a better word.
He'd do all his work in the wee hours of morning before class. Sometimes he wouldn't do it at all, and would flat-out avoid checking in with the prof to give his status report and get feedback. Again, I have to emphasize that he was talented. As in, probably one of the most talented guys in the school/program. The only reason I got better grades than him most of the time was because he didn't put the hours/dedication in to really flush out a project. I found this so upsetting, and I guess I still do. I got this scholarship to New York, which I'm really proud of and glad I received. But never even for a moment believe that I was the best candidate for it. It was Dylan, beyond a shadow of a doubt. He would have loved every inch of New York, and he would have kicked serious ass in SVA. But he never even bothered applying for scholarship. That bastard. It should've been him.
At one point, even after the scholarship application deadline had passed, he told me he was just going to apply to SVA on his own, scholarship be damned. He'd do it for sure. Of course he was going to do it. Not a doubt.
He never did it.
Dylan said he'd do a lot of things he never did. Particularly at the end of our last year.
You see, he finally got into bed with the girl he'd been crushing on since we started school together. And, well, they were practically made for eachother, I guess.
It started with him saying he'd stay that evening to help me on a project I was struggling with. Then he said he'd be in on the weekend to work. He said he was going to bring in his work on Saturday so we could shoot our portfolios together. He said that four times, and never came in once. There were half a dozen similar instances like this. But that's Dylan, and I knew he had a new girl on the line, and I guess that was to be expected. But months before graduation, I spoke with him and another classmate about going out for a straight-razor shave together before the ceremony. Date set. He was reminded again and again, it was all good.
The morning off, I got a brief text telling me that he was going to have breakfast with family instead. Damn, that hurt. Not even 24hrs notice, or a call, or anything. Less than 100 letters mere hours before we were supposed to meet up. I'd been planning this for two and a half months. I mean, hell, yeah family in town is a pretty big deal. But I thought he would've recognized that maybe it meant something to me. That maybe it meant more to me than backing out using a casual blow-off text as if the whole damn thing was just an afterthought.
We went through the ceremony and barely talked. We met up once for lunch once over the summer to catch up for a bit. We talked and ate. A mutual friend had a party coming up for her birthday/going away party. At this point I knew my whole New York scholarship was on the rails and steaming ahead, so I asked him to come so we could hang out one last time. Have one last jam together. He said of course. I asked if he was going to bail on me like he had before. He said absolutely not. I told him that I had my ticket booked, and it'd be our last chance to see eachother. He told me to relax, of course he'd be there.
I reminded him a few times over the following month, leading up to the party. Each time he confirmed he'd be there.
The party rolled around, and I lugged a bunch of instruments and music over with me. I proceeded to look like a total idiot the rest of the evening, switching between noodling on my instruments and checking the door for someone that never came. I sent him FB messages and texts, and did the same to his girlfriend, asking if/when he'd be there.
I got home that evening and yelled at him on Facebook. He claimed that he had lost his phone a few weeks prior, so he didn't get any of my messages. As if, apparently, that had voided the months of reminders leading up to the party.
I told him my address for work where I'd be for the last few days leading up to my flight out, and said that I was super busy but still wanted to see him. He said he had a gift for me, and that I'd have to come to him, and maybe we could hang out on the weekend. Which was a few days after my flight out, which I had already told him about a few times.
Finally, I asked him for his address. Things were going to be tight, but I could see about borrowing a car to at least drop in quick before I shoved off.
Message seen, but no response.
I flew out.
All I wanted was one last jam together.
We used to watch each other's backs. We jammed together. We joked about gruesomely killing ourselves, in ways that only we'd find funny. We consoled each other through our respective breakups. He once told me that if he ever got married, I'd be his best man. Not to plan the party, mind you (I'd admittedly be terrible for that kind of stuff), but to stand at his side and give a speak and all that. We pondered on the future together, and listened to some good music together, and made music together. We even recorded a song together as part of a promo animation for our class' portfolio show. The one and only track ever recorded by The Little Compositions, the band we joked about starting. We were supposed to start a studio together at one point, too.
But I know he's too big for that. You're often told that "you aren't the center of the universe, you know". Dylan, though... Is one of those people that the universe does revolve around. Long before our final semester rolled around I knew our oft-discussed studio would never happen, because Dylan would end up getting hired somewhere and doing better work than I can ever do. I'm not stupid. He was one of the most incredible people I've ever met. He captures a room like no one else, and is one hell of a designer and artist.
There was a teacher's appreciation night at a pub, for all of the profs in the program, which the students attended and paid for. At the end of it as I was about to slip out the door, Dylan caught me and told me to stay in touch. Not to drift away, like he knew I would. He told me he wouldn't have made it through the program if it wasn't for me poking and nudging him and keeping him on track along the way. I told him I don't think I would've survived if it wasn't for him. Many a lump was formed in throats at that moment. We hugged and parted ways. I knew what he said was true, that I would drift off and fade away. It was kinda tragic to have my nature laid out so plainly before me.
But damn it man, if I'm drifting away, call out for you and I throw a line at your feet, you're supposed to pick it up. Instead, time after time it snaked off the dock and into the water because you couldn't be bothered to look my way.
It goes without saying that we haven't spoken since. Last I heard, him and his girlfriend are living together and are totally absorbed in eachother. He hasn't found work yet, and is instead just freelancing if/when the opportunity arises. Sucks. He could do so much better than that, if he applied himself.
I forgave him the first time he bailed on me, and the time after that, and the time after that. I even forgave him for backing out of getting shaves together. But apparently I'm just not even worth the hassle for one last goodbye.
Yeah, sure, go ahead and tell me that I'm being whiny and butthurt and I need to suck it up like a man. It still hurts when you discover your friend, the closest friend you'd had during four years of your life simply can't be bothered to be friends any more.
Hey, Dylan. I'm really glad you and Macy are getting along so well. Sucks that you had to keep bailing on me, though. I hope you hit your stride and take the world by storm. I wish you all the best. But damnit, I'm not going to forgive you so easily for this one. But because that will take any degree of effort on your behalf and you're obviously doing well enough to not even drop me a line... I guess we're through. Sucks.
It's a sad thing to watch a relationship die. But at some point I realized I didn't want to let myself be walked over again. And what good is a friend that doesn't even want to see you?
Heh. Maybe it was about time I faced the facts and realized that finished with me some time ago, before I even left.
I was just hoping for one last jam. You know, for old time's sake.
-Cril
Will the wind that blew her boat
Across the sea
Kindly send her sailing back to me
Honey pie you are making me crazy
I'm in love but I'm lazy
So won't you please come home
Come, come back to me, honey pie
Beatles - Honey Pie
Tuesday, January 07, 2014
Ship to Shore
It's a weird thing to get off a plane and not have anyone waiting for you.
Of course, this is something only a person on their way to adulthood would say. But there it is. I just got back from my winter vacation, where I visited my hometown in BC and then Calgary, where I visited with family and hung out and was always with someone I knew well and wanted to spend time with. And now here I am, back in the big city, where I don't know a single soul. It's such a violent transition. Not to even mention the change in scenery.
Here are two lines I found myself repeating when people asked me how things were going in New York.
Today, I'm feeling sick and tired and my bag is nowhere to be found.
I felt loved on my visit back home, it was so good to be around people I knew and cared about. I went to my sisters wedding, hung out with my sister's family (including my awesome brother-in-law and new neice), did a little bit of shopping with my brother, went kayaking with my dad (out on a quiet lake, where we got to watch two eagles converse), and sat with my mom to learn about and make traditional Ukrainian decorated eggs. Some solid quality time. In Calgary, we played some music, went skating (outdoors and indoors), made and ate some good food, laughed, did some gaming with my uncle and cousin, visited the office, and met up with two friends for a bit. It was a good break.
The sad truth is that it's pretty much the end of an era for my immediate family. Brother is in a serious relationship, sister has a house and a family, other sister is married, other sister is living the big city life, and I... Am living on the wrong side of the country. This is the first year we've been so fragmented, and I think that this is going to become the norm. Kinda sad, but that's how life works. Onwards and upwards, but in our own trajectories.
---
Life is tragic. I hate it. It seems like we're all just trying to find our way through this mess, while we stumble around bleeding. Everyone hurts. There are no right answers. We all hurt each other, inevitably, in one way or another. Because we're stupid, or we're jerks. I have one friend who's father is dying of cancer, mom drops the occasional suicidal remark, and brother that is a total idiot. I have another friend who might be separating from his partner, who's also the mother of his child.
Then I have my other friend, who things are definitely over with. They've left a big hole in my life, that I need to fill with... Something. And it's my fault, too. I caused them pain because I was trying to do what was best. I didn't want to hurt them. Never did. But now that hurt is all they feel, and my good intentions be damned, their life is miserable.
I look around and everything just feels stupid and pointless, because it's all going to go wrong whether you want it to or not. Yeah, I know that this feeling is just the product of current events in my life and the lives of people close to me. But it still sucks, and I hate it. And I hate that I hurt my friend, and that I know I can't fix it. There will be better days, sure.
And things could be worse - the running quip between me and a close friend is that at least we aren't being raped by a bear. Irreverent, sure, but I can't argue with the larger perspective it forces on me.
Right now I know my life isn't that bad. I'm living it up in New York, learning from some of the best in the business and having an adventure I'll never forget. But I look around and see so much pain in the world, and life seems so futile and petty and stupid.
I still miss my friend, and it's all my fault.
Happy new years.
-Cril
You're gone, gone, gone away
I watched you disappear
All that's left is the ghost of you.
Now we're torn, torn, torn apart,
There's nothing we can do
Just let me go we'll meet again soon
Now wait, wait, wait for me
Please hang around
I'll see you when I fall asleep
Hey
Don't listen to a word I say
Hey
The screams all sound the same
Hey
Though the truth may vary this
Ship will carry our
Bodies safe to shore
Of Monsters and Men - Little Talks
Of course, this is something only a person on their way to adulthood would say. But there it is. I just got back from my winter vacation, where I visited my hometown in BC and then Calgary, where I visited with family and hung out and was always with someone I knew well and wanted to spend time with. And now here I am, back in the big city, where I don't know a single soul. It's such a violent transition. Not to even mention the change in scenery.
Here are two lines I found myself repeating when people asked me how things were going in New York.
- The gangsters wear their pants lower, the gays are more flamboyant, and the hobos are stinkier. Everything in New York is turned up to 11. It's all just that much more saturated.
- On the first day in my home town, after I had flown in from New York the day before, I found myself standing in the street outside my home. Something felt... Off. I stood there in the snow for a moment before realizing how there wasn't any background noise. No sirens or cars or conversation. And even weirder, no one else was in the streets. It was just me. In New York, you're never not alone if you're outside - there's always someone around.
Today, I'm feeling sick and tired and my bag is nowhere to be found.
I felt loved on my visit back home, it was so good to be around people I knew and cared about. I went to my sisters wedding, hung out with my sister's family (including my awesome brother-in-law and new neice), did a little bit of shopping with my brother, went kayaking with my dad (out on a quiet lake, where we got to watch two eagles converse), and sat with my mom to learn about and make traditional Ukrainian decorated eggs. Some solid quality time. In Calgary, we played some music, went skating (outdoors and indoors), made and ate some good food, laughed, did some gaming with my uncle and cousin, visited the office, and met up with two friends for a bit. It was a good break.
The sad truth is that it's pretty much the end of an era for my immediate family. Brother is in a serious relationship, sister has a house and a family, other sister is married, other sister is living the big city life, and I... Am living on the wrong side of the country. This is the first year we've been so fragmented, and I think that this is going to become the norm. Kinda sad, but that's how life works. Onwards and upwards, but in our own trajectories.
---
Life is tragic. I hate it. It seems like we're all just trying to find our way through this mess, while we stumble around bleeding. Everyone hurts. There are no right answers. We all hurt each other, inevitably, in one way or another. Because we're stupid, or we're jerks. I have one friend who's father is dying of cancer, mom drops the occasional suicidal remark, and brother that is a total idiot. I have another friend who might be separating from his partner, who's also the mother of his child.
Then I have my other friend, who things are definitely over with. They've left a big hole in my life, that I need to fill with... Something. And it's my fault, too. I caused them pain because I was trying to do what was best. I didn't want to hurt them. Never did. But now that hurt is all they feel, and my good intentions be damned, their life is miserable.
I look around and everything just feels stupid and pointless, because it's all going to go wrong whether you want it to or not. Yeah, I know that this feeling is just the product of current events in my life and the lives of people close to me. But it still sucks, and I hate it. And I hate that I hurt my friend, and that I know I can't fix it. There will be better days, sure.
And things could be worse - the running quip between me and a close friend is that at least we aren't being raped by a bear. Irreverent, sure, but I can't argue with the larger perspective it forces on me.
Right now I know my life isn't that bad. I'm living it up in New York, learning from some of the best in the business and having an adventure I'll never forget. But I look around and see so much pain in the world, and life seems so futile and petty and stupid.
I still miss my friend, and it's all my fault.
Happy new years.
-Cril
You're gone, gone, gone away
I watched you disappear
All that's left is the ghost of you.
Now we're torn, torn, torn apart,
There's nothing we can do
Just let me go we'll meet again soon
Now wait, wait, wait for me
Please hang around
I'll see you when I fall asleep
Hey
Don't listen to a word I say
Hey
The screams all sound the same
Hey
Though the truth may vary this
Ship will carry our
Bodies safe to shore
Of Monsters and Men - Little Talks
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