A Journal Of Little Consequence Based on a true story.

Wednesday, December 31, 2003   I was given cause to consider how, for most of my three decades on this green earth, I suffered from debilitating shyness, something that has not been the case for over a year. Certainly, I still experience social anxiety, possibly more than most people, although it is hard to quantify such a thing. However, I am now able to at least relate to others on a surface level. Making even moderately deep connections remains difficult, and is one of my current projects. This was prompted by the impending close of the year, a time of raucous celebration across the land, the fact that my telephone has not exactly been ringing off the hook, and the realisation that in some cases, people who technically have more active social lives than myself think of themselves as being shy, which causes them some degree of anguish. Why should this be? According to the evidence, I am, socially speaking, more impoverished than many; I have never had a romantic or sexual relationship with someone else (something that remains beyond my current horizon), and up until recently I had never been part of a group of friends (sadly, I seem to be somewhat "out of the loop" with this group now, which has in any case dissipated to an extent due to circumstances). Nor had I ever had a "best friend", although I feel that J. might be fulfilling that role now, not that such labels matter a great deal. The answer is, of course, as I have noted within these pages before, that external factors are not nearly as significant as the world we construct in our minds. I have decided that I shall not be defined by certain negative moods that I may feel at times. Therefore, I am not a "shy person" for feeling anxious in social situations, any more than I could be said to be an "angry person" for sometimes feeling the emotion of anger. Does this then preclude the idea of being a "happy person"? Only if you take the attitude that the reality you create is subject to the same laws as the physical universe "out there". One alternative perspective is that whilst seeing yourself as a happy person may be as illusory as seeing yourself as an unhappy one, you may as well pick the point of view that is more conducive to your well-being. In my mind, I am able to accept this kind of duality, as it is part of a paradigm, and as long as it works in practice, it does not need adhere to abstract theoretical standards. Personally, I choose to see myself as a person with the capacity for feeling happiness rather than a "happy person", although I may make the conscious decision to change that at some point in the future. posted by grover | Wednesday, December 31, 2003 Tuesday, December 30, 2003   I was pleased that J. had chosen to turn to me for support during a difficult time. However, I harboured a little anxiety about taking on a kind of therapeutic role in her eyes, and that she would be less interested in seeking my company when things were going well for her. A part of me even thought that it might be in my interests, therefore, if J. was not happy. A selfish notion, but rather than feeling guilty about it, I decided that awareness of that desire at least allowed me to adjust my behaviour in order to compensate for it, even if my emotions for now lagged behind in terms of maturity. posted by grover | Tuesday, December 30, 2003 Monday, December 29, 2003   My toes curled in embarrassment as J. and her colleagues laughed over some cringingly poor in-jokes that they had developed. I faked a grin, but I could hardly get over the nerdiness on display. J. has often referred to herself as a geek, but I have generally managed to steer clear of this part of her personality. Now, I was bearing the full brunt. Not that I thought any less of them as people. Indeed, they seemed to have made quite a connection with the staff at the pub we were in, where they were regulars, which is more than I have ever achieved under similar circumstances. Deciding that I had had enough of this banter, largely to do with people and subjects that had nothing to do with me, I made a move to leave. However, J. asked me to wait until she had finished her drink, and suggested that I join her for dinner. At last, I thought, a little quality time alone. Shortly after we had taken our seats at the restaurant we had gone to, J.'s telephone rang. A friend of hers would be joining us. My heart sank. posted by grover | Monday, December 29, 2003 Sunday, December 28, 2003   AN ANNOUNCEMENT OF VIRTUALLY NO IMPORT After literally minutes of deliberation, I can now reveal that I have magnanimously agreed to allow an old and dear friend of mine to continue recording the comings and goings of my existence in another place, leaving me free to pursue other important activities, which frankly, writing this diary was starting to cut into. But fear not, for I shall still be making entries myself in these very pages when they are specifically pertinent to the community of elder statesmen (and, yes, women) who make up the core readership of this tome. I understand completely that this may come as distressing news to those who have come to see these words written by my own hand as a sturdy walking shoe that eases their way through the rough ramble of life. But let us not weep over what has been lost. Instead, look to the future with starry eyes, for the story continues here! posted by grover | Sunday, December 28, 2003 Thursday, December 25, 2003   A CHRISTMAS QUIZ A recent comment invoked the following question in my mind: which parts of this diary do readers consider to be factual, and which parts are perceived as fabrication? What would the reasons be for believing that a particular anecdote is fact or fiction? Answers to be written in charcoal on a papyrus scroll and deposited under the flat stone on the heath. Alternatively, use the comments link below. posted by grover | Thursday, December 25, 2003   A Very Merry Christmas to one and all! I have now been up for thirty-four hours. posted by grover | Thursday, December 25, 2003 Monday, December 22, 2003   A few days earlier, I had been telling my cousin about how I had ceased to make plans to meet people any significant time in advance, as I had become weary of being let down. All too often, I have had appointments cancelled shortly before they were to take place. Therefore, I felt slightly guilty, yet at the same time gratified, at J.'s decision to cancel her meeting with a friend she had not seen in over six months in order to join me at a gathering of former colleagues from my previous workplace. It's pleasant to receive such preferential treatment, and my self-esteem received a small boost, which I am not sure is entirely healthy. Aside from the small ego-trip, the reasons for my wanting J. to attend the gathering that evening were threefold. Firstly, of course, I wanted to see her. Secondly, she had said that she would be bringing the lavish Christmas gift she had bought me. Lastly, and uppermost in my mind, I was expecting that Z. would be there, and I gave J. instructions to make me look good in front of her. According to my research, one thing that makes men seem more attractive is being seen with women; the rich keep getting richer. As I neared my old workplace on the way to the pub where the meeting was to take place, I crossed over to the other side of the road, in order to avoid being waylaid by a former colleague; J. had left me a message that she had already arrived, and I wanted to maximise the time I had with her, as she had said that she could not stay for long, as she had another appointment. However, I was spotted by Z., who, as is so often the case, was standing outside the building smoking a cigarette. Answering her call, I was conscious of greeting her in a less warm way than I could have. When I arrived at the pub, I was not surprised to see J. in conversation with a man at the bar. After we had moved to a table, she told me about all the attention she was getting from her male colleagues. This was hardly news to me, as I had taken pains to point out this fact to her some time ago, which back then she had seemed oblivious to. I asked if she enjoyed getting compliments from men about her attractiveness, to which she replied yes. Giving such compliments to women was something that I had dallied with briefly, but for some time I have refrained from doing so, considering it to be a rather crass and clumsy way to indicate interest in a woman. However, as I quite enjoy receiving them as a man, I still sometimes compliment other men on their appearance. When the time came for J. to leave, no one else had yet turned up for the reunion. I asked J. to watch my coat whilst I went to the toilet, and on my return, barely two minutes later, she was deep in conversation with the men who were sitting at the table next to us. Before she left, she was invited to drop by and visit them any time. I am always amazed at J.'s ability to engender people's affections, both male and female, in this way; in fact, I feel rather inadequate when witnessing it. However, I have to remind myself of the folly of comparing myself to others, especially when they are operating on an especially high level, as J. does with strangers. posted by grover | Monday, December 22, 2003 Saturday, December 20, 2003   J. sounded rather confused on the telephone. She was unsure whether the man she had gone on a date with the previous night was attracted to her. I replied that he most probably was, seeing as he had agreed to go out with her in the first place. Shortly, J. mentioned that she had stayed the night at his home, and that they had engaged in non-copulatory sex. I had a little difficulty in communicating just how redundant I thought J.'s self-doubt was. Still, from what I have read, hers does not seem to be a unique experience. In less optimistic moments, I sometimes think of my unusually asexual life thus far as being all the evidence I need to deduce that there is something inherently unappealing about me. However, if someone like J., who has had a great deal of sex, can feel this way the day after an erotic encounter, perhaps my own feelings are not so pathological after all. Nonetheless, I did feel rather melancholy at the thought that J.'s sense of inadequacy came from having to put in more effort than she was used to in order to have a sensual experience. Mine, on the other hand, is based on never having so much as held hands with a woman. J. must have detected this somehow, as much later in the day she sent me a text message asking if I was all right. I called back and glossed over her question, but over the course of the ensuing conversation, I confessed that her recounting of her various encounters did leave me feeling quite pensive about this part of my life. I also extracted a blow-by-blow account of how her date had gone the night before. I explained that my lack of a frame of reference meant that details could not be glossed over; phrases such as "you know that thing that people do..." are of no use to me, because I don't know. Far from accusing me of being overly demanding for wanting to know all the minutiae, J. said that she felt that ours is a symbiotic relationship, as she feels the need to talk through these things with somebody. As talk turned to the dynamics between men and women, J. described how, despite the fact that she is a highly domineering person, she prefers men to wrest control of relationships. She harked back to a meeting that we had had in the summer. At first I did not know what she was talking about, until I remembered that I had recorded it in this very journal. As she told me the same story from her perspective, I could see that J. had evidently etched it into her memory in as great an amount of detail as I had, down to what she was wearing all those months ago. At that time, I was feeling, as usual, quite out of my depth in a situation where J. wanted to go one way, and I wanted to go the other. Nevertheless, I had stood firm despite inwardly quaking, and we had gone to my preferred choice of location. Now, J. described to me how angry she had been with me, but had gone along anyway. She held this up as an example of a man taking control. I realised that my anxiety about being assertive, as if I was "faking it", was not nearly as significant as my behaviour at the time, which had led to the desired result, and had served to sculpt the nature of my relationship with J. posted by grover | Saturday, December 20, 2003 Thursday, December 18, 2003   I felt a little foolish upon discovering that two of my colleagues have been having an intimate relationship for months. This was partly because I had been oblivious to this coupling for so long. I am not immune to gossip, but I sometimes surprise myself at the lack of interest I have in the lives of others. The other reason was that hearing about others' love-lives always reminds me of the non-existence of my own. Later, I felt even more foolish when the male of the partnership, who is my supervisor, berated me for not attending to my work properly. As is often the case, my lowered mood resulted in an increased susceptibility to pessimistic thoughts in general, and N.(a) noted that I seemed in a pensive state. I told him about the fears I had about venereal diseases, and asked him whether he had caught any himself, to which the answer was in the negative, although he does have some cold sores, something that is extremely common according to both my research and my experience, although I have avoided them altogether due to my non-tactile lifestyle, and am not entirely sure what they look like. N.(a) explained to me the age-old truth that I so frequently lose sight of, that life is a risky process (ultimately no one survives it), and that one has to balance the dangers of various activities with the happiness that they could bring you. posted by grover | Thursday, December 18, 2003 Tuesday, December 16, 2003   I spent some time researching the subject of sexually transmitted diseases on the internet. This was prompted by the realisation that, whilst I have been working on making an in-road into the realm of sexual activity, I have very little idea about the how to behave once I have entered that world. This includes a lack of awareness about the variety of illnesses I might contract and how to recognise them. It seems that even kissing can lead to a lifetime of cold sores. It all made for rather disheartening reading, as did the results of a quiz I took that is aimed at helping adolescents decide whether they are ready to have sex. These indicated that I ought to consider "waiting a little longer". Is three decades not enough? posted by grover | Tuesday, December 16, 2003 Sunday, December 14, 2003   J. visited me at work. As I was busier than I had expected, I was in a rather more excitable mood than usual, and my usual levels of decorum and discretion were somewhat lowered. At one point, I told J. that I saw her as being "the human equivalent of a bucket of icewater." J. said that I had changed a great deal since she had first known me, and that I had come out of my shell, at least with her. This she deemed to be a good thing. However, I pointed out that at the time when I had been more cagey with her, she had felt attraction for me, whereas now that I am apparently more open, that frisson has dissipated. J. also noted that I still flinch when touched. I felt that I had improved, but was forced to eat my words when she poked me in the sides (an act which I find utterly obnoxious), sending an involuntary shiver up my spine. I have not succeeded in finding any resources on this subject in the past. It concerns me, as I would love to have the human touch in my life, but always seem to baulk at it in practice. posted by grover | Sunday, December 14, 2003 Saturday, December 13, 2003   (Friday's entry) My colleague R., who is in his mid-thirties, seemed genuinely perturbed by the fact that I had just peeled a satsuma and was planning to eat it. He pointed at the pith on the outside of the peeled fruit and asked me what it was. I was amazed; it was as if he had never eaten fresh fruit before. He gingerly tried a single segment, and was pleasantly surprised, saying that it was "quite juicy, actually". I asked him where he thought orange juice came from. Later, he could not seem to stop talking about fruit, how he would now start eating it, and what a good idea "fruit bars" that specialised in serving fruit would be. In the evening, I attended a party to mark S.'s moving into his new flat. This was the first house party I had been to since January, and I enjoyed it immensely. I believe I am now coming to a point where I do not see all such gatherings as a major hurdle to be overcome, and can sometimes "take them for granted", rather than as a life-changing experience. I spoke to a number of people who are a great deal more successful than myself in my chosen field of endeavour. I decided to stay well away from any kind of talk about how they might be able to help me in my own pursuits. After all, there was nothing that I could offer them professionally. What I could offer, however, was myself as another person to interact with, so that was the level on which I conversed with them. posted by grover | Saturday, December 13, 2003 Monday, December 08, 2003   I spent most of the day still cringing over the thought of my experience at the weekend, which was not alleviated by S.(a) responding to a semi-consciously blurted-out double entendre by saying that she felt sorry for me because I was clearly deeply frustrated sexually. Thankfully, an outstanding concert that I attended in the evening with T. and his girlfriend J.(c), who works as an actuary, provided a catalyst for my snapping out of my malaise. T. felt that my interpretation of the rejection of my telephone number request was paranoid. Each time I have mentioned the occupation of J.(c) to N.(a) in the past, he has repeated the same joke, that an actuary is a person who does not possess the requisite amount of personality to become an accountant. After the show, which was so astounding that even I felt compelled to stand and sway slightly to the rhythm of the music, I asked J.(c) how she had liked it, and her reply that the enthusiasm of the crowd had hindered her enjoyment because she preferred to sit calmly and listen to the music. Given the flamboyant style of the band we had gone to see and the raucous reputation of its fans, this only served to support N.(a)'s oft-repeated comments about members of the actuarial profession in my mind. Nontheless, as I had been feeling somewhat "unclean" over the past few days, as if I had been shamed publicly, I decided to be pleasant to J.(c), aiding her across a busy road, and even opening T.'s car door for her and kissing her goodbye, all things that were moderately-to-highly uncharacteristic of me, and which seemed to go down well with her. I wonder if this approach will work with women not involved in accounting-based trades. On the bus journey home, a woman sat next to me who loudly made it known that she was irate because neither the driver nor another bus driver who was sat as a passenger on the bus could tell her where the street she wanted to get to was. Her request was not an unreasonable one, but she was so twisted with rage and venom as she muttered about the unfairness of the situation that I felt no inclination to inform her that she was in fact on the wrong bus, and, along with the other passengers, I was delighted when she stormed off the vehicle. I reflected on how the woman had really worked herself into the negative state she was in, much as I had been doing to myself over the past days. I had had the advantage over her that I had been aware of this at the time, and although this intellectual knowledge had not brought me out of the funk I was in over a relatively small incident, it was probably significant in preventing me from slipping deeply into a quagmire of depression and lethargy. posted by grover | Monday, December 08, 2003 Sunday, December 07, 2003   My heart started to sink as I answered the telephone and heard Z.'s voice at the other end. I had been expecting her to call to answer a message I had left for her with regard to a change I wanted to make in the time of the meeting we had scheduled. (This in response to J.'s insistence the day before that the time I had specified originally was too early, and that meeting shortly before the night was coming down would optimise my chances of being invited back to Z.'s chambers). I seemed to be predicting what Z. was going to say simultaneously with her mouthing the request to cancel our appointment. She said that she would call me during the week, a statement that I did not even begin to take seriously. When I had expounded upon the accuracy of my premonition to J. later, she told me to stop feeling sorry for myself. She also said that my experience the previous evening sounded bizarre to her. when I have described my problems to people, they have frequently commented that my bad experiences are somehow exceptional, and due to external factors such as the problems of others. However, I do not believe that anyone can be that unlucky. posted by grover | Sunday, December 07, 2003 Saturday, December 06, 2003   For the first time in my life, I asked a woman for her telephone number without establishing a non-sexual context for doing so. In the past, either a platonic relationship would have already been instigated, or there would be some specific, usually professionally-related reason. The pleasant banter we had been engaging in immediately changed in tone as her brow furrowed in an expression that I interpreted as saying "I am so disgusted that I can't even hide it," and she refused to write her number beneath the e-mail address I had already procured from her. She explained that it was "too soon", and she did not trust me yet. One of her friends called me a "fast mover", and said that women did not give out their numbers to "random men", whilst another looked on with what I took to be disdain. Although at this point I was feeling rather put-upon, I tried to respond, not entirely successfully, in a non-defensive manner, with the use of humour. Fortunately, I managed to extricate myself from the situation reasonably soon, albeit a little sheepishly, feeling that I had somehow been "found out" as the kind of person who would have sexual desires, and imagining the trail of revulsion and pity I was leaving behind me. As I made my way home, I vacillated between feeling like a "creepy" person and thinking that pushing the boundaries of my experience as I had done was a good thing. Despite the urge to use this incident as evidence to support my long-held suspiscion that I am in fact repulsive to women, I have inferred two guidelines for future reference, should I regain my compsure sufficiently. Firstly, in this day, telephone numbers have a kind of emotional baggage attached to them that e-mail addresses do not. Secondly, becoming at all defensive (a weakness of mine) when under the fire of criticism does not come across well*. In this case, I believe I was able to pull back in this regard when I realised what I was doing, even though it was in the guise of a joke. Addendum: Perhaps this is a little extreme, as one has a right to stand up for oneself. However, appearing desperate or backed into a corner is never a good thing. posted by grover | Saturday, December 06, 2003 Friday, December 05, 2003   I sat opposite J. at a lunch appointment that stretched into the evening. Our table was by the front window of the restaurant, which is on the same street as my workplace. On many occasions colleagues of mine walked past, but none of them saw me, which I found mildly disappointing, as I thought that being seen out with J. would help shore up my reputation, and would also bring into relief the fact that I had been instrumental in bringing new business to my employer from J.'s company, something which seems to have passed unnoticed. C. walked past twice, and on the second occasion she saw us and came in briefly to say hello. I wish I had been a little warmer towards her. However, I had just been talking to J. about the last time I had called C., and how I had felt somewhat bruised by the lack of enthusiasm on the other end of the line. Then again, C. had been at work at the time, so it was rather oversensitive of me. J. commented on the quality of Z.'s skin. I explained how I found it doubly alluring, due to the coolness of it to the touch, a consequence of her poor circulation. J. asked me my opinion of our relationship, a question I deftly managed to sidestep by way of a joke. She told me that she thinks I "wear the trousers" in our relationship. This was a little surprising, but pleasing, to hear, as J. tends towards the domineering in her dealings with people. She also more-or-less dictates the times that we meet, although I do have a sense that I allow her to do this. My experience is that when J. is receptive to the idea of seeing me, she will always initiate a meeting, whereas inaction on her part tends to indicate that she would not be in the mood to meet, even if I suggested it. In that regard, and also in terms of where we meet, she has control. However, when we are relating directly, whether on the telephone or in person, I do feel that I am steering the tone of the interaction. Later, I was privileged to be privy to the knowledge that J.'s daughter is a certain person's best friend at school. I shall not divulge the identity of that person, as I was sworn to secrecy, and in any case, I couldn't actually make out what she was whispering in my ear. She asked her mother whether I would be joining them for dinner, to which the answer was in the negative. As we parted, J. asked me whether I would like to join them on Sunday. Despite finding the prospect highly attractive, I did not give a commitment, as I inwardly wondered whether by then J. would still be in the mood to meet. I don't much care for this cynical streak in me, whilst at the same time believing in it. I proceeded to my former workplace. N. was there, and I managed to be civil and friendly despite my previous feelings of hostility towards her. I have handled the aftermath of run-ins with people very badly in the past, not allowing old wounds to heal, so I was pleased that I had not repeated the same pattern. However, Z. said that she had detected a certain frostiness between us. The cool-skinned one seemed a little brassy, delighting in describing how she was able to intimidate her boss, and even intimating that she had me wrapped around her finger. I resolved to take her down a peg or two at our next meeting, which was scheduled for Sunday. With another twinge of paranoia, I had the premonitory feeling that the meeting would never happen. posted by grover | Friday, December 05, 2003 Tuesday, December 02, 2003   I was cringing at the thought of the sound of my own voice, which I have always thought of as having a rather grating quality, as I read through some material aloud with S.(a). I was really quite surprised, therefore, to hear him describe my voice as "smooth". I remembered my cousin saying on a number of occasions that my voice was "soft", again clashing with my own perception of it as being a little harsh. There must be some way that I can use this to my advantage. Perhaps I shall apply for a position with one of the better telephone sex services. Later, over supper, S.(a)'s wife told me how she and her husband had lived in several countries over the past decade or so. I was moved and amazed that two people could be so devoted to one another, although I kept the sentiment to myself. I would not travel to the ends of the earth to be with anyone, and the idea that anyone would do the same for me stretches the limits of my imagination. posted by grover | Tuesday, December 02, 2003		links my life in prose contact archives