I’m sad to say talks of separation have increased.
Not unreasonably given my present state of mind. And location. (Should that be “Empire State of Mind”?)
It came to a head when I went back for the week of my child's birthday. Sometimes I worry we are better when we’re apart. After so much time, the fault lines break when we’re together. Two immovable tectonic plates, trying to bridge an Ocean. Giving our kids what they need, but never what we both need.
And now I’ve been absent for a while, it's become worse.
But the fears and insecurities I can’t quell... Where do I put them? My friends™ are too busy with their lives (and children) to listen. I can’t put them in the sitcom I’m writing. When you’re left all you have is your family. But you can’t get emotional support from someone who’s at the heart of the issue. And they know you less and less, the less effort you make to be present.
It’s something I’ve seen before with my extended family. I cut myself off, and now they barely seem to know me. I thought they might understand by now my concerns for the environment. Or at the very least how difficult it is to get two kids under five out the house when they’re surrounded by a thousand blinking, beeping, trinkets.
But our children get spoiled with enough noisy plastic toys to fill a lifeboat. And I float alongside, staring at my phone as I try desperately not to think about the millions of families all over the world, pouring last years presents into landfill too.
I ask for toys that don’t make noise. Yet none of them seem to know it’s because they make me feel like I’m having an out of body experience. Looking down upon myself from the past. Seeing all my most negative visions of parenthood becoming a reality. Sitting doing nothing but listen to inane clatter. Wasting away as I become more and more like my father. A man who’s done everything right, except smile, yet is treated only as a bank and the butt of every joke.
Sometimes it feels like not even my wife knows me. She was, after all, unable to tell my very thoughts from that of a machine I briefly programmed to write something in my stead.
And so things came to a head. I’ll tell you about it later, I think we all know why you’re ACTUALLY here. But, as I head back to New York, I may soon have to decide whether to return early and make things right, or to cast myself adrift on the whims of fate and fortune.
Aside from all this. I am still looking forward to sharing with you what we’ve been working on out here. I just hope it’s worth it.
“The One With a Thousand Tiny Bits of Plastic”
Now that Phoebe and Paul Rudd are married, Chanica are enjoying having a civilised meal with them. The treasured double date being an increasingly popular occasion for people of our vintage. Anything to stop you having to listen again to what your partner has to say.
Joey gatecrashes. He’s annoyed they’re moving out of the city. Mate, that’s nothing. Think of all my mates spreading themselves across Europe. Or me coming out here to the US.
Phoebe is apparently trying to get Mike to do something in bed. A thing SO taboo that even JOEY thinks is weird. Man, I’m intrigued. Let me know what you think it might be! Could do with some ideas for how to make things up to my wife. If she ever lets me see her again in that way.
We also find out Monica is lying about changing her name to Bing. Not completely surprising. But you’d really rather people knew you were related to Ross? This leads Phoebe to find out she can have whatever name she wants! And she opts for the all time great:
PRINCESS CONSUELA BANANAHAMMOCK.
Sounds like one of my kids’ books.
Paul Rudd isn’t massively keen on it, so tries to get his own back by going for the (slightly less creative) “Crap Bag”. But you and I know he’s already lying about his name. Going round telling everyone he’s called “Mike”. You can’t pull the wool over my eyes, Rudd.
Joey’s going to check out Mondler’s new house. But secretly (or perhaps NOT so secretly…) trying to convince them it’s not worth buying. He has a heart to heart with the kid that lives there, and they make him grow up a little. I could sure do with a little wise buddha too about now. Give me some direction.
It turns out it’s all gona be fine for Joey, as Chandler has somehow persuaded Monica to let them have a “Joey room”. Though they draw the line at Joey’s requests for an aquarium and sex swing. Hey maybe I should get one of those out here?? THAT’D show my wife.
She hates fish.
Things are moving forward at pace for Rachel and Ross too. Ross has finally got tenure, and Rachel has an interview with Gucci™!
Although it doesn’t go so well for her. She scuppers both jobs when it turns out her boss is sitting on the table opposite, ruins the interview by pretending it’s a date to cover things up, but still gets caught by her boss. And… FIRED?! Boy, US labour laws really do suck.
Still at least she got to go on a date with DATA.
Not unreasonably given my present state of mind. And location. (Should that be “Empire State of Mind”?)
It came to a head when I went back for the week of my child's birthday. Sometimes I worry we are better when we’re apart. After so much time, the fault lines break when we’re together. Two immovable tectonic plates, trying to bridge an Ocean. Giving our kids what they need, but never what we both need.
And now I’ve been absent for a while, it's become worse.
But the fears and insecurities I can’t quell... Where do I put them? My friends™ are too busy with their lives (and children) to listen. I can’t put them in the sitcom I’m writing. When you’re left all you have is your family. But you can’t get emotional support from someone who’s at the heart of the issue. And they know you less and less, the less effort you make to be present.
It’s something I’ve seen before with my extended family. I cut myself off, and now they barely seem to know me. I thought they might understand by now my concerns for the environment. Or at the very least how difficult it is to get two kids under five out the house when they’re surrounded by a thousand blinking, beeping, trinkets.
But our children get spoiled with enough noisy plastic toys to fill a lifeboat. And I float alongside, staring at my phone as I try desperately not to think about the millions of families all over the world, pouring last years presents into landfill too.
I ask for toys that don’t make noise. Yet none of them seem to know it’s because they make me feel like I’m having an out of body experience. Looking down upon myself from the past. Seeing all my most negative visions of parenthood becoming a reality. Sitting doing nothing but listen to inane clatter. Wasting away as I become more and more like my father. A man who’s done everything right, except smile, yet is treated only as a bank and the butt of every joke.
Sometimes it feels like not even my wife knows me. She was, after all, unable to tell my very thoughts from that of a machine I briefly programmed to write something in my stead.
And so things came to a head. I’ll tell you about it later, I think we all know why you’re ACTUALLY here. But, as I head back to New York, I may soon have to decide whether to return early and make things right, or to cast myself adrift on the whims of fate and fortune.
Aside from all this. I am still looking forward to sharing with you what we’ve been working on out here. I just hope it’s worth it.
“The One With a Thousand Tiny Bits of Plastic”
Now that Phoebe and Paul Rudd are married, Chanica are enjoying having a civilised meal with them. The treasured double date being an increasingly popular occasion for people of our vintage. Anything to stop you having to listen again to what your partner has to say.
Joey gatecrashes. He’s annoyed they’re moving out of the city. Mate, that’s nothing. Think of all my mates spreading themselves across Europe. Or me coming out here to the US.
Phoebe is apparently trying to get Mike to do something in bed. A thing SO taboo that even JOEY thinks is weird. Man, I’m intrigued. Let me know what you think it might be! Could do with some ideas for how to make things up to my wife. If she ever lets me see her again in that way.
We also find out Monica is lying about changing her name to Bing. Not completely surprising. But you’d really rather people knew you were related to Ross? This leads Phoebe to find out she can have whatever name she wants! And she opts for the all time great:
PRINCESS CONSUELA BANANAHAMMOCK.
Sounds like one of my kids’ books.
Paul Rudd isn’t massively keen on it, so tries to get his own back by going for the (slightly less creative) “Crap Bag”. But you and I know he’s already lying about his name. Going round telling everyone he’s called “Mike”. You can’t pull the wool over my eyes, Rudd.
Joey’s going to check out Mondler’s new house. But secretly (or perhaps NOT so secretly…) trying to convince them it’s not worth buying. He has a heart to heart with the kid that lives there, and they make him grow up a little. I could sure do with a little wise buddha too about now. Give me some direction.
It turns out it’s all gona be fine for Joey, as Chandler has somehow persuaded Monica to let them have a “Joey room”. Though they draw the line at Joey’s requests for an aquarium and sex swing. Hey maybe I should get one of those out here?? THAT’D show my wife.
She hates fish.
Things are moving forward at pace for Rachel and Ross too. Ross has finally got tenure, and Rachel has an interview with Gucci™!
Although it doesn’t go so well for her. She scuppers both jobs when it turns out her boss is sitting on the table opposite, ruins the interview by pretending it’s a date to cover things up, but still gets caught by her boss. And… FIRED?! Boy, US labour laws really do suck.
Still at least she got to go on a date with DATA.
One of the finest actors in Starfleet™ absolutely wasted with a shockingly low amount of screentime.
Later she bumps into Mark. And, honestly, I have no idea who he is? Ross has beef with him for some reason? From something SEVEN YEARS ago. But he says there might be a role for Rachel at Louis Vuitton.
Except it’s in Paris.
Oh no! She’s gonna move to France just like my other Rachel!! Please, no. I can’t take it anymore.
Real Live Sitcom Moment:
It all kicked off the day before Legoland™.
One massive argument. Which, being jet lagged and exhausted from work, I had no energy to navigate. This is a common theme for us. I say something heartless without thinking. It strikes a nerve. I sense the argument coming and try and escape. This enrages my wife more. I get cornered and cannot control my words.
Everything gets on the table. And then, the heat dies down and we’re fine for a few months. Except neither of us change any of the things that caused us both to be stressed and at each other. And it happens again.
This time, the big D word even got on the table again too. And not the fun one. Each time it rears its head again, though the instances get further apart as the kids get easier, it gets harder to summon the energy to argue against it.
This time it even got so far as me saying “alright, well if we’re gona do it, can we at least still go to Legoland™. Give the kids one last nice day of us all together as a family.”
Her: “Are you just saying that cause you want to go to Legoland™?”
(Again. Completely missing my distaste for consumerist fueled family fun.)
We went, the kids remained oblivious, and it was mostly wonderful.
Particularly my daughter on the way back:
“Mummy, will you still love me when I’m a teenager?”
“Of course I’ll love you sweetie, I’ll love you when you’re an old lady.”
To which the child laughed maniacally before adding “You’ll be dead.”
Little psycho.
I guess we’ll have to see what happens next. You can rebuild those little yellow bricks. But can you rebuild your life?
Later she bumps into Mark. And, honestly, I have no idea who he is? Ross has beef with him for some reason? From something SEVEN YEARS ago. But he says there might be a role for Rachel at Louis Vuitton.
Except it’s in Paris.
Oh no! She’s gonna move to France just like my other Rachel!! Please, no. I can’t take it anymore.
Real Live Sitcom Moment:
It all kicked off the day before Legoland™.
One massive argument. Which, being jet lagged and exhausted from work, I had no energy to navigate. This is a common theme for us. I say something heartless without thinking. It strikes a nerve. I sense the argument coming and try and escape. This enrages my wife more. I get cornered and cannot control my words.
Everything gets on the table. And then, the heat dies down and we’re fine for a few months. Except neither of us change any of the things that caused us both to be stressed and at each other. And it happens again.
This time, the big D word even got on the table again too. And not the fun one. Each time it rears its head again, though the instances get further apart as the kids get easier, it gets harder to summon the energy to argue against it.
This time it even got so far as me saying “alright, well if we’re gona do it, can we at least still go to Legoland™. Give the kids one last nice day of us all together as a family.”
Her: “Are you just saying that cause you want to go to Legoland™?”
(Again. Completely missing my distaste for consumerist fueled family fun.)
We went, the kids remained oblivious, and it was mostly wonderful.
Particularly my daughter on the way back:
“Mummy, will you still love me when I’m a teenager?”
“Of course I’ll love you sweetie, I’ll love you when you’re an old lady.”
To which the child laughed maniacally before adding “You’ll be dead.”
Little psycho.
I guess we’ll have to see what happens next. You can rebuild those little yellow bricks. But can you rebuild your life?
