The Day My Eyes Did That Funny Thing And I Bonded With Joe And Was Disappointed By Jack In The Box

My eyes did that thing again.

Basically, as I tried to explain to Joe as he rolled croissants, it's like I just looked at the sun for a few minutes and temporarily burned a hole through my retina. Distances aren't distorted at all because the mind has a remarkable ability to fill spaces like that with nonspecific assumptions--so a brick wall looks like a full brick wall, without a spot missing. But when I'm having a conversation with someone across the counter, it looks like anything immediately to the left of my focal point is literally erased. So your face across the counter looks like a one-eyed misshapen anomaly, a huge distraction when I'm trying to listen to what you're ordering. It's impossible to think about anything other than how crazy my vision is behaving. I always felt like people could realize that something was wrong with my eye--I blame the left one--but they couldn't exactly figure out what it was. I got that "Are you high?" look from some of them. Really I was just keeping my cool while part of my eyesight went missing.

I blame the Cheerwine, iced mocha, shot of espresso, and two cups of black tea--which resulted in a minute headache at the same moment my eyes went all funny. The coordinated arrival of both makes me suspicious. Can too much caffeine fuck with your eyes? I know the body is capable of incredibly puzzling behavior, especially when exterior chemicals are added to the mix, and in excess. I was actually happy to have come up with my first theory about this visual phenomenon. For the most part, my eyesight is fine. The only variable I can think of is the unusual amount of caffeine I chose to consume at the start of my shift.

Anyway, I'm listening to the new Arcade Fire album.

I listened to "Sigh No More" twice at work today, which is one less than yesterday. I also think Joe and I are becoming friends. He's one of the cool bakers. Jack, another baker who came in a bit later, hasn't quite warmed up to me. Maybe I see a little of myself in Joe, and Joe can relate because he was in my shoes not too long ago. He put up with my "new normal music" for most of the night before asking for the old stuff. The Zeppelin and the Stones. I'm trying to embrace the new. I'm all about the new.

This Arcade Fire album is great, by the way. Something about it lacks the immediate bond that I felt to Mumford and Sons. I'll be playing both tomorrow night, I'm sure, along with the new Jack Johnson--though I gotta say, Jack... It's getting old.

Don't get the Big Chicken Sandwich Combo from J-in the-B. It's a lame sandwich.

- Left to Fry

The Day I Discovered Mumford And Sons While Feeling Totally Removed From Existence

This is what falling out of the raft feels like.

The raft disappears down a different fork and you're taken down rapids you've never experienced before. This is when you cling to any little thing that resembles a flotation device, something that you can float along with, and you come to miss it when it floats away. These things remind you that you're not alone. That there are other consistencies in this journey called Life. Whether these be friends or jobs or habits, you cling to them to know you matter, to know that you're still alive.

I'm an actor in an imaginary movie starring me that only I can see.

Will I find a place to live downtown? How long will I like my job? What's going to happen to my car? How will my relationships with people change? When the hell am I going to create some concrete goal for myself?

Right now I'm clinging to the band Mumford and Sons. Every once in a while, I come across a band--usually a particular album--and it just fits. Besides the way I came to feel about the Astronautalis album, Pomegranate, the last time I think I really connected with an album like this was a Janove Otteson album I bought in Seattle. Every song on Mumford and Son's "Sigh No More" album has an epic, passionate, explosive feeling that bursts with raw emotional strength. It's foot-tapping, head-bobbing, tear-jerking wonder. I haven't heard anything this incredible in a long time.

I'm trying to write more. I'm sticking to a story, with an ending I've planned out, with characters I've come to love. On one level it's about a robot. On the other it's about love.

It's also 4:00 in the morning, right now, which is not a good sign. I didn't know what else to do but write something. I hadn't felt inspired to write more of the robot story, and stumbling the internet was boring, so I turned to another flotation constant and chose a journal entry. I do feel better. I feel happy when I'm writing. I'm also listening to Mumford and Sons, and there's really nothing better. I guess maybe I'm anxious because it's already almost August and I know I only have the slightest grasp on what exactly I should be doing. It seems logical to move downtown. It seems right. But is it?

Mumford and Sons will keep me sane, for now.

I'll cling to them the way I clung to Modest Mouse, the way I once clung to Breaking Benjamin, or Brand New.

I'm not even tired. I could stay up for the rest of the night and not care. The idea is kind of exciting, actually. I'm staying in an empty house, got no one to worry about waking up. I might have a little breakfast soon and watch a movie or finally get to playing Red Dead Redemption. I really should keep writing the story. It'd be nice to get that one out of my head, finally. On second thought, I found myself getting tired while writing this paragraph, and apparently a part of me thinks that's a bad idea. I'll probably put on a movie and lie down after this post. See? Even on my own I can make good decisions.

AJ and I are doing alright. I'm so busy trying to figure out my life--as you can see by the occasional bout of insomnia--that I haven't felt in the proper mindset to keep in close touch with her. I figured we both need time to recover. I figured she'd been just as busy as I have. And we did finally catch up over the phone, and I was pretty much right, but there were some emotional differences between us that had her bothered until we spoke. I doubt that we'll lose touch. It's not like I'm aiming to move very far.

I cannot wait to have my own space. I do have a place in sight, but I'm having second thoughts. For $450, plus a deposit, I need to be sure I can give up on finding a place with a washer/dryer and my own bathroom. But it's location, location, location right now. I want to be able to walk to work and save money on gas and parking, and, if I start to feel really trendy, I'll put a hold on my insurance and file a PNO with the DMV. Probably not right away. I'll have to get a good bike first.

Well that's it for now.

- Left to Fry

P.S. I'm not doing that bold thing anymore. It takes forever.

The Day I Broke Up With AJ And I Moved Out To Stay At Rhonda's House

There's no easy way to say it, so I'll just say it.

AJ and I have broken up and I am moving out.

One week ago today, I came home from an exhausting all-day closing shift at Old Soul Coffee, already hitting the weekend in an overwhelmed, chaotic frame of mind, and decided that I couldn't handle this any longer. I couldn't handle anything. I couldn't handle two jobs making minimum wage, I couldn't handle my credit card debt, my bills, my rent check, and I couldn't handle my life. Defeated and selfish, I considered moving to my dad's house and trying to get a job at a bookstore and starting over completely. I told this plan to AJ when I got home, after she asked me if everything was alright and all I could do was shake my head. It had been a hot day without a car and ending with a twenty-five minute walk from the bus stop outside ARC. I'd felt nervous at work all day because Old Soul was having me close by myself for the first time. I'd been unhappy with myself for the past few months, peaked that afternoon by the grim realization that I was working way below the standard I envisioned for myself at this age, and that this wouldn't last. AJ and I had been struggling to survive each month individually for the past six months, never able to just be grown-ups and endure the bills with ease. Sure, that came with time, with the progression of our individual careers, but I simply lost grip on that hope and couldn't see beyond the dilemma of affording the next rent check. I gave up. I was about to lose my mind.

Not all of my decision was based on financial reasons. The relationship I had with AJ never felt balanced. From my point of view, there were many genuinely good standards that AJ held for a passionate, long-term relationships that I simply couldn't match. I'd never actually experienced the upfront honesty of someone like AJ before, and found it incredibly attractive as a human quality, but as the relationship moved forward, I never learned to incorporate that trait into my own behavior, and my dishonesty began to gnaw away at her faith in me as a passionate life partner. I take complete blame for the pain I put her through with my negligence of her feelings. I simply wasn't thinking. AJ deserves someone who can mirror her passion, not someone who embraces it but reluctantly repeats it. Having dug myself into a dark area of distrust, AJ was always being overly concerned with my behavior, which distanced us from one another romantically. We became close roommates who snuggled and watched Netflix, and soon enough we gave up trying to be romantic altogether. This was around the time I got fired and started this blog and went out to find a new job. Two coffeeshops later, I reached a point where I was destroying my self-esteem and falling into a depression I never expected or knew how to handle. And AJ completely understood. She'd seen what I'd been doing to myself and how stressed I was. She had already been talking to Laura about possibly becoming roommates should I ever decide to move.

Then AJ watched the video, the one I'm editing for Raquela.

The half-naked dancing girls were the last straw. For a relationship where open communication and absolute honesty were key, it was disgusting of me to have not informed AJ about what sort of material, exactly, I was going to be dealing with. I'd really only told her that I was editing a video, that it was a remix dance song, and that the story was loosely based on a girl chasing a guy through a mansion and pushing him into the pool. When filming started and I saw the costumes for the first time--and these were a few scattered hours of behind-the-scenes experience, not full days of hanging around the set--it would've been the wise thing to tell her about this. I agree, in retrospect. But when filming had begun, when I had put in so much input, when I'd already invested myself in this zero budget project, I didn't want to let it go. I had a fear that AJ would simply tell me not to do this video because it was inappropriate. When I mentioned this fact during one of our final arguments, she insisted that my concern was an example of how little I truly knew her. Maybe that's true, but the fear was still there and I didn't even think of the project as anything sexually interesting, just simply as a job I'd agreed to do, an experience I didn't imagine it would hurt to have. It was over after that. Another example of how Chris Fryer doesn't give a shit about anyone else but himself.

Now I'm staying at Rhonda's, a family friend in town.

The goal is to hang about for a bit and help AJ pay the bills and rent for this month, and then start looking downtown for a place to rent--probably just someone's spare room, but that's all I really need. AJ is getting a roommate on the first of August. After that, I imagine we're still going to be close friends. Spending a year and a half with someone, sharing a roof and bed with them for a year of that time, you're going to grow close. I miss hanging out and watching Netflix. I miss the pets. I miss the company. I miss cooking for each other. I miss the small things that only come apparent when they stop happening. But we had a good long talk a few nights ago on the phone and really pushed through the shock phase by coming to terms with the improvement this change will serve for both of us. My only plan now is to get a room downtown, work at Old Soul for a while, work on my writing, and get my credit card debt taken care of. I'm not going far. Not yet.

And AJ... She's on a great track. Her music is fantastic, her school experience is going well, she's reaching goals she probably never imagined to meet so quickly. She has a good base of friends who support her. She is going to be fine. I will always respect her and wish the best for her and hope she knows that.

I don't know what's going to happen next.

I don't even know if I open or close at Old Soul tomorrow.

But all of this is happening for a reason. All of this feels terrifying and wonderful and sad and inspiring. It's a time of metamorphosis. Butterfly from the cocoon. I feel like AJ's already found her wings and taken flight. I am proud of her for that. I can only hope that something like that happens for me.

- Left to Fry