January 03, 2004 - 1:25 AM

The Lonely Alone

A strange aftereffect of my going home for the holidays has been the loneliness that I've experienced since returning to L.A. I guess this happens every year. I'm around family for several days, doing not-a-whole-lot and enjoying it; I see old friends and rekindle memories; I find comfort in the company and the love. Then, I go back to where I live (Boston for several years, now Los Angeles), and the lack, the silence, the cold seeps into me. It's the Lonely Alone.

I unpack my bags, take a shower, check my mail. And there's no one around, no one with whom I can chat, no one to hug. I putter about, straighten things up, turn on some music, and then, there's nothing else to do. That's why I've been happy to go over to Nick's place every day this week (well, that, and Nick's a swell guy. He got me a George Foreman Grill for Christmas!); it's too damn quiet and depressing in my apartment.

I don't mind being alone always. Alone doesn't have to be Lonely. Alone can be nice. It can be good. Part of who I am is a loner. (I'm a loner, Dottie. A rebel. You wouldn't understand). Some of it has been cultivated, as I've become selective about who I let into my life and who I let stay in my life. This probably can be tied to my laziness in making an effort to keep in touch with people; sometimes it's just a pain in the butt to maintain the lines of communication, so I let them fall out of use. That, and I also tend to have a disdain for many MANY types of people, so I'd rather not deal with them beyond the de rigeur courtesies.

Some of my lonerism also stems from my lack of social fortitude, which I've discussed a bit in these pages. There's a certain element of Holden Caufield-ishness in my inability to take part in the phony banter between strangers. I can't force myself to mingle and strike up superficial conversations- it makes me uneasy, makes me feel scummy. It's just not me.

Conversely, I do long to be around people, to be involved with others. There's a craving for interaction, for hub-bub. A marrying of these two opposing forces isn't easy, as you can imagine. How can I address my need to hang out with people in comfort, when strangers inherently intimidate me? When I have less than a handful of friends, and there are only so many times I can invite myself over to their places before they get sick of me?

In case you wonder, I spent New Year's Eve at Tony's with She, The Twinkling Star, and a gaggle of her co-workers. Nick made it over a little before 11 PM since he had a coworker's party to attend earlier in the night. Unfortunately, my alone-ness continued at Tony's because I was the only person drinking. Yeah, Tony had a few beers, and one of the other persons had a mixed drink, but they were all still pretty much sober. I acknowledge the fact that I'm pretty boring for a 26 year old, what with my getting all excited to play games like Dominoes and Time's Up and Mahjong (I learned how to play real Mahjong that night, although, in my liquored up state, I wasn't able to retain the lesson all that well), but geeze, this was one fiercely tame New Year's Eve. No hoopla, no dancing, no cursing and screaming. Well, I was doing some uncontrolled cursing. But everyone else seemed disinterested in making New Year's Eve more fun than a night of doing a really difficult crossword puzzle and then watching American Idol.

Oh, and Margaret Queen of All She Surveys's cousin Joan showed up too, and I still think she's super dreamy and fuckin' hilarious. But Nick slapped me around a bit when I gazed at her too long in my drunken state, suggesting that I should keep my attention and affections pointed more realistically towards a girl, any girl, who perhaps lives on this coast. And there goes another crush.

******************

I've started reading a couple of books. Snowcrash by Neal Stephenson (I gave up on Cryptonomicon because it was too dense, but I would like to return to it) and Band of Brothers by Stephen Ambrose (I loved the HBO miniseries and have been watching the DVDs again recently). I also borrowed Catch-22 and Walden from Nick tonight. I don't know if I'll be able to plow through all of them, but I hope to finish Band by the middle of next week and Snowcrash in 2 weeks. The thing is, I stopped reading years ago, way back in college. And as I've been picking it up again, I've realized that part of the reason it fell by the wayside for me is that it's such solitary and isolatory work. Sure you can watch tv, a movie, play games by yourself, but there's noise going on as you do it; human voices, sound effects, music. With the book, it's just you and your eyes and your imagination. For one who has been slowly bred over the years to need constant and varied stimulation of multiple senses, this narrowing of focus to the exclusion of 4 of the senses is frightening.

If I'm at home, and I watch tv, surf the net, write a diary entry, cook some food, I may very well go the entire day without saying a single word. But I won't notice it because I'm multitasking and engaging multiple functions of my body and mind; it may all be empty work, not deeply stimulating, but there's enough buzz to keep me distracted from the fact that I've not seen another person or talked to anyone all day. And yet, when I hunker down with a book, or even consider shutting off the appliances and electronics so that I can sit on my bed with some literature, the daily isolation hits me. Then I suddenly feel agoraphobic. The room becomes larger, the uncluttered carpet and unadorned walls emptier. And I shrink.

Usually I don't like being put into such a dispiritive state, but I'm already dangling my feet in a pool of gloomy. So into the books I shall dive.

Now Listening To : Christmas Songs Volume 1- A Nettwerk Compilation that is actually really really good.
Random Thought : New Year's resolution: go to the gym at least 5 times a week for the entire month of January. Let's see if it happens

What I Just Wrote Before - What I'm About to Write

The Five Most Recent Entries

Here's a hand-picked playlist of 40-plus songs for you to listen to: