Mirrored TSWP Entry - Monday, October 14, 2002

[illusionofjoy]

It has only been three weeks since I last saw The Asian Goddess. Three weeks to an eternity, it doesn't really matter - I may never see her again.

I don't think I can deal with the distance...

It is funny how memories work. They come in bits and pieces - disjointed scenes from the floor of the editing room where one knows exactly where they go, yet can never piece back together in their proper places. I'm hard-pressed to find anybody who can play back his or her entire life story as if it were a completed movie. In that I mean: recall every detail and put it in the exact place where it belongs. Things inevitably get left out. The plot may not be full of holes, but the timeline never truly runs in a straight line.

Try as I may to replay the entirety of the Asian Goddess' visit, I simply can not do it. My mind keeps skipping around. I don't really have any comprehensive journal entries about it, as I was too focused on her to bother really writing. I don't have that many photographs either...I should have taken more pictures while I had the chance. In fact, I wonder if I should have simply spent more time with her while I had the chance. There are instances where I feel I should have taken a hiatus from my radio show for two weeks just so I could be with her. Granted, I wouldn't have been able to skip all my classes for her, but she was able to come to most of them anyhow and just sort of blend into the scenery.

She had arrived the evening of the 12th of September after a long flight from Honolulu to Syracuse (with several transfers in between) and a bus ride from Syracuse to the SUNY Potsdam campus. I was in my dorm, sitting at my computer, staring blankly at some drivel on the screen as I am wont to do most nights. She had sent me an IM earlier from her cell phone telling me that she was in Watertown, which meant that she was a little over an hour away from me at that point. I was excited about her coming and IMed her back. I had told her to let me know when she got into the village, so I could meet her as she got off the bus.

That didn't end up happening, however. About an hour to an hour and a half later I got a phone call. My Asian Goddess was somewhere on the campus, although she wasn't certain exactly where the bus had dropped her off. I felt it odd that she hadn't disembarked at the bus stop on campus, but perhaps the Greyhound driver in question didn't believe in said bus stop. I asked her to describe her surroundings and she told me that there were a bunch of buildings around her and orange fencing. I replied that such a location description wouldn't suffice, being that there was orange fencing all over the campus (the mooks in the administrative offices had obviously decided that having the place torn up during the semester was a good idea). I asked her to tell me if there were any street signs nearby and what they read. She gave me an answer and I told her to stay put as I now knew exactly where she was.

I had walked past that street corner a million times during my tenure at SUNY Potsdam. It was a simple intersection at the end of the street to the east of my building. If one were to turn left, they would walk past the north concourse of my residence hall and exit the campus. A right turn would bring one to the front entrance of the Student Union. Walking straight would lead one across the street, past the University Police offices and into the academic quad. To continue through the quad and out the other end led across another street and into a large parking lot, which then gave way to one of Potsdam's many low-density residential districts. Keep walking straight and you would cut diagonally across many lawns before finally ending up at state route 56 as it intersected with Main Street next to the old buildings that used to be a part of the Clarkson campus (which are now either abandoned or rented out as offices). To walk in the other direction would lead one past the east side of my building, as it ended and became a parking lot, across several athletic fields and then into the oblivion that is the countryside of St. Lawrence County.

You're just going to throw me in the same pile as all those other bitches...

She would be standing at that corner I knew so well. It wasn't particularly cold that night. In fact, it was unseasonably warm. I had thrown on my trenchcoat, and walked out my dorm followed by my exit from the suite, down the staircases of my building and out one of it's many exits like a man on a mission. I walked the asphalt sidewalk, its unforgiving surface striking my boots with every footfall, resonating a deafening "thud" to any insects nearby. I passed by Hurley's, which had the usual Thursday night smokers loitering outside. It was open mic night and I was not attending. In fact, it was the second open mic night of the semester and the second one I had neglected to attend during the course of the semester.

I love you...don't leave me...

She stood at the corner next to a wheeled travel case. At five feet, two inches she was dwarfed by the street sign (but then again, so am I at five feet, nine inches). Still, there stood a beautiful full-figured Japanese-American woman, clad in black, her hair streaked in blue, wearing tinted glasses.

We hugged and I escorted her to my suite. [Pausing the CD, I go downstairs to get a soda from the vending machine, further depleting my student account. I resume the music upon my return.] She unpacked some of her stuff and we made small talk, unsure exactly what to expect next at the current juncture.

[This soda tastes awful!] We sat next to each other on my bed for a while, holding hands, gently caressing each other's fingers. By my standards, it was late (I had a radio show to do at 7:00AM...my foolish devotion to WAIH...I should have slept in with her), so I asked her if she wanted to go to bed. She told me that she did and changed into a pair of cobalt blue pyjamas, that revealed themselves as quite silky once she slipped under the covers even though they were made of polyester.

I wrapped my arms around her and sighed inwardly. Admittedly, I wanted to have sex with her, but at that moment I was happy to just have her in my arms, feeling her warmth against me. It was nice to have another body sharing my bed - someone I cared for...someone I love.

The night wore on. I wasn't sure if it was hours or minutes that stretched out forever, nor did I care. I don't think either one of us was sleeping. I began kissing her forehead and cheek, gently stroking her hair. She didn't object...

Friday, September 13th, 2002; 6:00AM - my alarm clock began screeching. I roused the Asian Goddess just long enough to tell her that I was going to get showered and go to the station. "Okay," she said through a yawn and rolled over, resuming her slumber.

I know that I did my show that day. I also went to my one class. I'm having trouble remembering the events. It seems that strip of film is momentarily lost...

I think she met me at the station afterwards, except how could she since I wasn't there? I had a class. Of course - my office hours as music director - she must have come in during my office hours, which means that she would have walked in sometime between 10:00 and 11:00AM. I distinctly remember her walking down the hall though, not into the station itself. I was standing outside in the hallway, talking to someone when she appeared. I think I remember now...

What? Wha - was this all some sick and expensive joke...?

[Finishing the ghastly soda, I pause for a bathroom break.] It's strange how memory works. I wish mine were like a videocassette recorder, except that I could preserve emotions, scents and tactile sensations as well - all perfect for posterity. There are so many things I would be playing back right now, crosschecking and referencing for accuracy. All I have is this flawed brain and these quasi-disjointed images of joy, sorrow...and so much pain...

Right now I feel as if I'm going to vomit. There's a pain in my torso as if there is a rock lodged between my heart and my stomach. Perhaps my liver is swollen and nothing else...nothing emotional...those pesky feelings...

You remind me of Puff...

[The pain intensifies and I lay down on my bed for a few minutes. I get back up when it subsides.] The Asian Goddess and I walked around the campus that Friday. I gave her the ten-cent tour of the quad and the Crane School of Music. We then stopped by the house where a couple of my friends live together. Introductions were made all around and we solidified plans for Sunday evening.

[I just received an IM from the Asian Goddess - she's on her way home, which means that the moment of truth is soon to arrive. I wonder exactly how painful this is going be...]

I should never wonder how painful something is going to be, because it is always more painful than I expect it to do to. After a conversation that spanned several hours last night - it is now actually the 15th - I went to bed afterwards. I couldn't bring myself to do anything else aside from spitting out a quick entry in my Livejournal where I simply stated, "The Asian Goddess and I are no more." I disabled the comments for that entry entirely, partly because reading people essentially repeating, "I'm so sorry" is like poking at an open wound and partly because there are vindictive ones out there who would be happy to post shit like, "you're miserable - good!"

So now our relationship is a thing of the past, and I am left walking through my memories. After we stopped by my friends' place, she and I walked downtown. We stopped by The Fields to have coffee and dessert and I introduced her to a friend of mine who works there. We continued on afterwards, stopping by the park on the island, sitting in one of the benches, staring out at the river and holding hands. Eventually we made it to Bayside Cemetery, and I showed her where my father and grandmother are buried.

We made our way back downtown, passing by my mother's place of employment. After a quick, "eh, why not?" ran through my head, I entered and asked if I could borrow the car, provided I got it back before her workday ended. She agreed and I drove the Asian Goddess to Massena. This isn't to say that there isn't anything incredibly interesting happening in that village that wasn't happening in Potsdam, but it does have a mall, which we ended up going to.

We dined at the food court there. Funny how memory works again...I remember what I ate, but I can't remember what she ate. I also can't really recall which stores we went to. Although I do remember that we discovered an Asian grocery store in Potsdam on our way back downtown, where she bought some frosted rice crackers.

Saturday the 14th of September...

Well, yes, if I'm the vanilla pudding pack, then this chocolate one is inappropriate...we need a container of rice pudding to be accurate...

The Asian Goddess and I actually got up fairly early that morning, I think it was around 8:00 or 9 o'clock. As there are few things to do in the village of Potsdam itself, I decided that I may as well show her what was around Northern New York, and allow her to play a stereotypical "Japanese tourist" (she had brought two cameras, and the desire to take many photographs).

Since it was fairly close, I decided to take her to Alexandria Bay, the foremost tourist resort in Northern New York. The village is located in the "heart of the Thousand Island region" and its economy is pretty much based solely on tourism revenue generated by boat tours, resort hotels, fishing, sight-seeing and whatever else one can economically exploit the natural beauty of the St. Lawrence river for. Despite the inherit tackiness of turning something naturally beautiful into a tourist haven, the place is really not that bad, provided one is only visiting. I would never be able to live in a tourist resort town.

The drive there was fairly uneventful. It was clear and sunny outside - a little too warm, but tolerable. We drove along the St. Lawrence River, as route 37 became route 12 and "parking areas" became more plentiful. I actually pulled over into one so that the Asian Goddess could take some snapshots of the river, then we continued to the resort town.

Once there, we took the standard boat tour of the islands, including the stop at Boldt Castle. I had been on the tour before, so I could just pretty relax and enjoy the ride with my favourite Japanese-American. She seemed to enjoy watching the islands go by, despite living in a state made up of a chain of them.

As I've said before, the romantic story attributed to Boldt castle is much more appealing than the actuality of its snail's-pace restoration. Still, it is nice to disconnect oneself from jaded reality - if only for a little while anyway. We wandered around the castle, and I reflected on a discussion with the Wells Woman that had happened months prior about whether or not it would be appropriate to make out in George Boldt's castle. As it was, there was hand-holding, but nothing close to the vulgar lip-locking that could have transpired if we were less couth individuals.

I do recall seeing something in the castle that I hadn't noticed before. The object itself wasn't unfamiliar, but a detail upon it had gone unnoticed by me previously. It was marriage certificate for George and Louise Boldt. She was much younger than he at the time of their nuptials, however the age column didn't hold my interest as much as the race box. There was one row each for the bride and the groom, with two columns - one for black and one for white. I mused about the narrow-mindedness of the 19th century and wondered if the colours had ever been mixed - if such a thing (though technically legal) would have been allowed when a couple went in to pay for their marriage license. I glanced at the object of my affection, doubting I would be satisfied that the only continents of origin it seemed acceptable to have a significant other from were either Europe or Africa (and never the twain would meet).

After the boat tour, The Asian Goddess and I drove to Watertown. We stopped by the Salmon Run Mall, just off of the highway. It was here that I first encountered the Goddess' unhealthy obsession with Border's Bookstore. She is an employee of one of them in Hawaii and one had just recently been built at Salmon Run in Watertown. She insisted that we go in, because were we to buy anything, she could get an employee discount. This seemed reasonable to me, so we went in and started browsing. While I was in the CD section, she would organise any discs that were alphabetised improperly or otherwise out of place in the display rack.

"You know, you don't work at this store," I said to her. This didn't end the behaviour. At this point, I decided to have some fun with her and started turning CDs by artists I didn't like upside-down. This drove her nuts - as she scrambled to right what I had deliberately buggered up. I snickered each time, thinking about how she was helping to get the employees of that particular store paid more for doing less.

Of course, maybe I should have applauded her for that, seeing as how I unexpectedly met up with a friend who graduated last year who was now working there. We talked a while, and I introduced him to the Asian Goddess. He told me that his significant other was also working at a store in Salmon Run - the JC Penny at the other end, so we went to see her too.

There wasn't much more to Saturday, really...The Asian Goddess and I had lunch at the Taco Bell in Watertown and then drove back to Potsdam. Later that evening she got me drunk and we watched movies at my friends' place.

Sunday we slept in for most of the day - she longer than I as I went to the WAIH meetings. That evening we went to the local Italian restaurant with two of my friends. The Asian Goddess insisted on paying for everyone, despite our objections. "No, I will pay - it's no big deal," she said, despite our objections, capping it with, "Don't insult the Japanese girl." We all caricatured mock shock at her pulling of the "race card" on us, but finally relented.

When Monday (September 16th) rolled around, I was back going to classes and my radio show, allowing my visitor to sleep in. Not much really happened during the week - nothing of note that I would share in a public forum, that is. Wednesday (September 18th), I slept in, missing my show and my first class of the day. The Asian Goddess had been keeping me up late at night. I did, however, make it to my second class, which I had a presentation in and which she tagged along to.

Thursday (September 19th), I broke my self-imposed hiatus from Hurley's to play at the open mic night. She wanted to see me play, so I decided that to oblige, as she wouldn't get another chance in the near future. The night wasn't greatly enjoyable for me, as the individual behind the soundboard has little regard for my music or me as a person. The mix was complete arse - my vocals completely dry (after I asked for reverb) and mixed in such a way that they were disjointed from the sound coming from my keyboard. Furthermore, rather than trying to make the mix good, the lout decided to play with the overhead lights while I was playing a piano ballad. Since when is it fashionable to turn on a strobe while someone is playing a slow song? Here's the answer: it isn't, and anyone who does put one on is a complete and utter moron. I even voiced my convictions between verses, in the form of a venom-laced, "stop fucking with the lights, asshole," between verses.

I finished up my set and sat back down next to my girlfriend. I didn't feel like sticking around very long afterwards. Turning to the Asian Goddess, I asked her, "do you mind if we leave?" She told me that she was fine with that and we returned to my room. I just didn't feel like sticking around that night.

On Friday (September 20th) I actually got the Asian Goddess to get out of bed and get dressed early enough so she could come in and hear my radio show. She was awake for the first half-hour of the show, with enough time for me to run down and get her breakfast. After she ate, she promptly passed out and would not be roused again until I had to go to class. We actually got there late, walking in at the exact same time my professor did. This wouldn't be so bad, except that I had missed the class earlier in the week, it was a class that I'm re-taking and, no matter how hard I try, I can't just disappear into the faceless mass making up the rest of the student body. I just stick out too much, which I really wish I didn't at times. Buggered, if I'm going to start donning Abercrombie & Fitch, getting a preppie haircut and saying things like, "kewl," "holla" and "wassup!" Fuck that shite.

That evening we had Chinese food, and decided to partake in some intoxicants. Earlier in the week, we had stopped by the local liquor store where she had bought a bottle of Smirnoff and I got a bottle of Captain Morgan's Parrot Bay. I always mix my rum with soda, and by the time I think the Asian Goddess cut me off (if I recall, she had tried several times before), my bottle was nearly three-quarters empty. All I really recall from that night was that I wrote a delightful little Livejournal Entry, mourned the death of Ian Curtis and vociferously professed my enamourment with the Asian Goddess. After all that, I passed out on my bed next to her only to wake up the next morning to find her sleeping on the floor. She said that I was giving off so much body heat from being drunk that she would have sweltered if she'd stayed in my bed that night. I think I have another reason to avoid getting drunk.

The Asian Goddess and I slept in Saturday morning (September 21st). It wouldn't be until that afternoon that we would be taking a trip to Burlington with a couple of friends of mine. Before she had even boarded the plane bound for the East Coast, she had told me that she wanted to take me out for Japanese food. After doing some research online, she found a place in Burlington that we could go to. She found a club as well that we decided to check out.

The drive to Burlington took longer than expected, as we went through the Adirondack Mountains, rather than the shorter route around them. The most notable part of that voyage was the drive through Clinton, where the road is literally parallel to a large correctional facility. The four of us sat in the car, wondering if some convict attempting to escape was going to jump on the roof of the vehicle.

Plattsburgh was a piece of work in of itself. To get to Burlington from Plattsburgh, one must take a ferry across Lake Champlain. This alone is no big ordeal. Finding the ferry crossing on the other side of the zigzagging roads that make up the village of Plattsburgh, however, is a big ordeal. Wrong turns were taken a least three times, before we finally found the road that led to the ferry crossing. We ended up getting there just in time to be one of the last vehicles loaded onto the boat before it embarked for the other shore.

Once on the other side, the trip to Burlington went fairly smoothly. We made it to the city with no trouble and found parking surprisingly quick. Once parked, we began walking to the Japanese restaurant. We eventually found the place, only after getting caught in a downpour. Soaked, we sat in the air-conditioned restaurant and had dinner. I've been wanting Japanese food ever since.

After dinner, we meandered down the street, which was actually closed to traffic, effectively being converted into an outdoor mall. We stopped by one of the omnipresent Ben & Jerry's ice cream parlours that are everywhere in Vermont, sitting and chatting for a while. Eventually, we made our way to the club, but only after stopping at the local Borders, at the insistence of the Asian Goddess.

The club itself was okay if you were a local, but really not the type of place we were looking for. It certainly wasn't the type of place I was into, after having experienced the 80s night of Laga in Pittsburgh. This place was hosting their own retro night, mixing stuff from the 70s and 80s...stuff that I had heard ad nauseum. I wrote down a request for a New Order song - "True Faith" - because I figured that they had to have a copy of that. Either we left before they played it, or they didn't have it.

The ride back was shorter than the ride to Burlington, as we went around the Adirondacks, rather than through the mountains. The longest part of the trip was actually spent waiting for the ferry to take us back across to the New York side of Lake Champlain. There's just something about the graveyard shift that makes people cranky, and ferry crewmen are no exception to this rule. When the ferry finally arrived and we were told to board, I drove on, taking a position on the boat. A very heavyset crewman came over to my vehicle.

"He looks really friendly," one of my friends said.

"I bet he's a dick," my other friend spat out.

"Naw...look at him..."

It was then that the heavyset crewman shot me an icy glare, screamed something and motioned for me to move the car into a different lane on the boat. I complied as my second friend looked at the first, saying, "I told you so!"

Heavy ferryman finished by yelling, "turn your headlights off," just as I was shutting them down. Charming fellow, he was indeed. He turned around, and we noticed the word "CREW" printed in big block letters on the back of his shirt, along with the logo for the ferry company.

"Ha! Fat crew!" my more sarcastic friend blurted out. Thus, the heavyset ferryman had been nicknamed for the duration of our voyage across Lake Champlain. At one point, my first friend said, "I want to go outside and feel the air," to which the other replied, "you'd better not. You don't want Fat Crew to get you, now do you?"

The Asian Goddess slept through the whole ordeal.

We got back pretty early in the morning, crashed on my bed and slept in quite late Sunday (September 22nd). She spent most the day packing. The only thing she didn't pack was her vinyl dress - it still hangs in my closet and I've yet to be able to bring myself to mail it back to her.

It was raining that evening. We hung out with my friends for a while and then went out walking. The rain didn't let up. We went back to my room, went to bed and the morning of September 23rd sank slowly upon us.

It was that morning the Asian Goddess had to catch a bus out of Potsdam. I walked with her to the bus depot - it was chilly outside. We stood, waiting for the bus, our arms around each other. The bus came, I told her that I loved her and she told me she loved me...

And then, in the only conclusion that the logical progression of this narrative allows, she got on the bus and sat down behind the window directly in front of me. The bus began moving and I watched as it became more distant, before lighting up a clove and walking back to the campus.

This brings us up to the date I started this entry: October 14, 2002. She called me, saying that she couldn't deal with the distance. It was a crushing blow, one that I really never wanted to hear. What made it even more difficult to swallow was that she had been talking to her ex right before calling me. Why she continues to talk to this person who caused - and still, to the best of my knowledge, causes her so much misery, I will never know. My immediate paranoid thoughts turned to the possibility that she cares for him more than me, even though he had done wrong by her in so many ways. Sometimes, I still wonder.

Overall, I doubt that is the case. She just can't handle the distance - she can't handle being apart for so long. So, with the flawed logic that makes us all so delightfully human, so decided to break up with me. It was as if I'd been told, "since I can't have your body, I'm asking that you take back your heart as well - oh, and I'm reclaiming mine as well."

She says this doesn't mean that we will never see each other again, nor get together ultimately, but I don't know if I can believe that. I liked being hers - and having her be mine. I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her...she had me seriously reconsidering many things that I had thought I believed. She had me even thinking about actually getting married, just by virtue of the fact that I believed I could find no other soulmates after her.

*snip*

I still love her, and I know she still loves me. Now that we've "broken up" she calls me more than ever. I miss her terribly, and worry that she'll find someone else - someone who lives closer to her to settle on before I ever have a chance to see her again.

Tonight on the phone, I asked her, "if you move to Seattle, would you want me to move there with you?"

"That depends on what you want to do," she replied.

I got a bit cross with her and said, "don't cop out on me like that - just answer 'yes' or 'no!'"

"Yes," she said softly.

"That's all I needed to know," I replied, my words a falling leaf in the autumn breeze.

I started this entry on October 14th, but found myself unable to finish it in one sitting. This has been one of the most painful, yet rewarding entries I've ever written. As of it's completion, the time is 3:45AM on Saturday, October 26, 2002.