August 25, 2001 Today, we'll be revisiting the subject of crack. Poor Holden. As I mentioned in that previous entry, Holden has not been particulary enamoured of Teddy for quite some time. It's a shame, really, because before last year, they were on their way to being good friends. But, then again, when your girlfriend is trying to a) dump you and b) kick you out of your apartment when you have nowhere to go; and her best friend (for whom you know she still has unresolved feelings) shows up and a) first tells you that he thinks, deep down, your girlfriend still loves you and he's going to try to help you two work it out and then, b) twenty-four hours later ends up kissing her in a New York hotel room, thus further confusing her, but also strengthening her resolve to throw you out into the cold, dark night, you probably wouldn't feel much differently about Teddy than Holden does, either. (In a nutshell, that was my Memorial Day weekend last year; maybe I'll explain in more detail at a later date.) But for the purposes of this entry, suffice to say, Holden is not Teddy's biggest fan. Whereas, Teddy and I have since made it up and gotten back to being friends, Holden has not been able to move past what happened last year. He has made progress, though. He's stopped outlining ideas for a sitcom where a man moves to San Francisco to be closer to his worst enemy, so he can murder him. Each episode dealt with the protagonist's latest attempt to do away with his unsuspecting prey by pushing him in front of a trolley or cutting the brakes on his motorcycle just before he took a ride down Lombard Street. At least I think those ideas were for a sitcom. Either way, he's stopped sharing them with me, and in my book, that's progress. Still, it's best not to mention Teddy's name in Holden's presence, unless the mention is along the lines of "That asshole Teddy..." I can't say that I blame him, really, but sometimes, the whole lifelong Blood Grudge and/or Vendetta of Death gets a bit frustrating. I've explained to him that because of our history and friendship, I have forgiven Teddy and still keep in contact with him, a fact that Holden has chosen more to ignore than accept, and mostly, when he asks what's new with my friends, I don't jump in with "Well, Teddy just started that new acting class." But, somewhere inside is a part of me that believes in schmaltzy reconciliations and truces struck either because of both parties' (i.e., Holden and Teddy's) mutual love for the person stuck in the middle (in this case that would be me) or because one of the aforementioned parties is placed in a life-threatening situation that causes the other to put aside his resentment and try to help his enemy, subsequently causing them both realize that life is too short to hold grudges. I suspect this is also the part of me that would actually enjoy Ally McBeal, Celine Dion, and Mary Higgins Clark novels, if I didn't repress it with my entire being. Lucky I'm so strong willed or I'd have a poster of a kitten hanging from a tree branch with the inspirational slogan "Hang in there" adorning the wall of my office. Every once in a while, this overly sentimental side of my psyche manages to show its simpering, smiling face -- usually in interpersonal relationships. This is exactly what made me tell Holden that Teddy had been in a motorcycle accident. I was hoping that Holden's former friendship with Teddy would cause him to react compassionately. Unfortunately, I tipped my hand by giving him the whole story at once. I said, "Teddy called. He was in an accident. Broke his arm pretty badly." I didn't allow for any suspense, any question of whether or not Teddy was okay. So all Holden, who seems to subscribe to the Heathcliff School of Grudge Holding, said was "I guess the fact that he called means he's not dead." You think I would have learned from that reaction. That I would have said to myself, Gee, maybe a year is too soon to expect any kind of a reconciliation. But, no, I just figured that the accident wasn't dramatic enough, life-threatening enough, to make Holden get past his anger and either embrace his buried affection for my friend or accept the fact that Teddy is my friend and come to the conclusion that he should make peace for my sake. So when this whole "Teddy-is-smoking-crack-sleeping-with-a-prostitute-considering-using-LSD-as a-therapeutic-tool" thing came up, my sentimental side figured that if I told Holden, this stuff was actually traumatic enough to make him concerned. Besides, I had to tell someone. I know I posted an entry and basically told anyone with Internet access, but I needed to tell someone face to face, someone who knows both me and Teddy, and since I very well couldn't tell my mother (the woman would have flown to San Francisco with her trusty wooden spoon and beaten Teddy with it for being so stupid), I told Holden. Ultimately, I expected him to be nonplussed at first and then, as the surprise faded, I thought he would say something like, "Gee, Kate, that's rough. I know Teddy and I have had our differences but I hate to see him destroying himself like this. What do you think we should do?" I am so lame sometimes. Really, I'm still a twelve-year-old girl in many ways. Holden's actual reaction was something like "Why the hell are you even still talking to that asshole anyway?! I'm telling you Kate, don't get involved in this. Who cares if he's smoking crack? I don't and you shouldn't either, the goddamnfuckingmoronassholesonofabitch." Well, duh. I dropped the subject. Yet, I was quite upset that Holden could not put aside his hurts and rally some concern for MY friend. Of course, I didn't tell him this. Instead, I saved it all up for my therapist. I saw Helen on Thursday and I poured out the entire story for her. I told her about Linda and how I really couldn't care less if she was using crack because I never did like her but I was very concerned for Teddy and I didn't know what to do for him, finally capping it all off with how hurt I was by Holden's lack of concern. That's when Helen asked me, "Refresh my memory, how concerned are you that Linda is working as a prostitute and smoking crack?" "I'm not. Her behavior only concerns me in that it concerns Teddy and he's doing this stuff because of her. Other than that, she can go live in the crack den." "Why don't you care?" "Because she's a flake. And I don't like her." At that point, Helen just smiled at me like I should be making some sort of a connection. I looked at her like I knew I was supposed to be making a connection but I just didn't see it. I can be quite dense. "Kate, you just admitted that you don't care what happens to Linda because you don't like her, so why should Holden be expected to care what happens to Teddy?" "Because he's my boyfriend and I care what happens to Teddy?" "Don't you care for Teddy and doesn't Teddy care what happens to Linda?" I really hate it when she's right like that. She also tried to make me see that smoking crack and dating a hooker and drinking and whatever else he's doing to himself is Teddy's choice and there is nothing I can do to control what he does. Now, Holden is off the hook because I understand that I was being hypocritical and unreasonable, expecting him to care about what someone he doesn't care for is doing, but I refuse to believe that there is no action I can take in this situation. Granted, whatever action I take may not make Teddy see what he's doing is wrong, but don't I have an obligation as his friend to make the attempt? After all, what's the point of having friends if we don't look out for each other? I would seriously hope if I got it into my head to start doing something incredibly stupid like shooting heroin so I could be more like Jack Kerouac (he did heroin, right?) that one of my relatives or my friends (maybe even one of you) would care enough to take a moment to pull me aside and say, "You know, Katie, shooting up might not be the best path to artistic enlightment." So even though he told me he doesn't need a judge right now and even though we've always had a policy of being ultra-supportive and non-judgemental, I have decided to say something to Teddy about his behavior. I dropped the ball the other night when all I could say was "Be careful" but I'm not letting this go. I've drawn the line at staging an actual intervention. At least at this point. I mean, I'll need somewhere to go with all this if he ignores me, right? I think I'm going to send him a letter -- An actual, handwritten, drop-it-in-the-mail-let-the-postman-deliver-it type letter, because a real letter seems to hold more weight than an email. And I'm going to tell him what I think of this craziness; that I'm his friend and I love him and I don't want him to take these incredible risks with his life. And that he doesn't need any of this bullshit to be an artist. I mean, really, as one of my writer friends pointed out, crack isn't exactly a chi-chi type drug. From the reactions I've gotten from you guys and a few of my friends here, it's more like the beginning of the end. Then, if the letter doesn't work, I'm calling his mother. I'm going to try to head Teddy off at the pass. And I'm not going to expect Holden to come along for the ride. Besides, if Teddy actually quits this stuff and lives past the age of thirty-one, I'll have years and years to bring about a reconciliation between them.

7 Deadly Sins and Other, Less Fatal Diversions Pride: The head of University A's Undergrad English Dept. told me that I was "very highly" recommended for this teaching position by not one but two of my professors plus the Graduate Program secretary. Now I know that Carl recommended me and that Bettina really likes me, but I have no idea who the second, mystery professor is. Envy: The Phillies just signed some 18-year-old pitcher from Maryland for four million dollars, a full college scholarship, and the agreement that they would also sign his brother. Why doesn't this country have professional writing teams? Or at least, why couldn't I be an 18-year-old boy with amazing athletic potential instead of a 30-year-old woman with an aversion to anything that involves running or elevated heart rates? Wrath: The more I think about it, the more the entire state of California is to blame for this whole Teddy situation. Sloth: Today, I was supposed to go back to Weight Watchers, clean my room, and answer email. Do you think any of it has gotten done? Avarice: Now that the student loan money is in my hot little hands, I am loathe to spend any of it. I keep thinking of next summer and how I simply cannot work. Gluttony: Last night, I ate nearly an entire package of Apple Newtons. Lust: Lately, I want to look out my apartment window and see Manhattan instead of Philadelphia. Flick: Curse of the Jade Scorpion -- I liked this a whole lot, but then, I pretty much like everything Woody Allen does. Book: DQ Tune: Barenaked Ladies -- "Pinch Me:" I feel fine enough, I guess, considering everything's a mess. Crush: I was hoping this "please be my friend" thing with Fenton would fade by the time I saw him again, but now I'm thinking that it won't run its course until I do see him again. Task at Hand: Writing a syllabus.