Archives for posts with tag: Lipkin

An old piece of writing with various levels of applicability.

I like to claim that I’m ‘dark and twisty.’ It’s a phrase I picked up in my Grey’s Anatomy phase, and I basically use it as a way to validate my flaws and issues, and to ingrain them in to my personally. When you think about it it’s pretty fucked up— so I don’t think about it. It’s also kind of an umbrella term. I hate umbrella terms, because anything that means everything doesn’t really mean anything. I can say dark and twisty, and I don’t have to say that some days I don’t feel like I matter, or that it seems like people always leave me (and that I try to anticipate that and get out before it’s too late), or that being unsure makes me uncomfortable. Talking about it becomes a way for me not to talk about itit being anything that presents vulnerability and can’t be perfected or predicted. I box everything in that so that I’m in control. The whole thing is a self-fulfilling prophecy that lets me be right every time.

There must be daddy issues in there somewhere, because the problems manifest in my relationship with guys all the time. My dad definitely loves me— however where that love fits in between golf and work I’m sometimes unsure. In terms of romantic involvement, there was Devon, who really only counts in the interest of chronological order, who was only interested in me because he couldn’t be with my best friend. Next was Joey, who was one of my closest friends, and who I was only romantically interested in because he was interested in me— also previously involved with the formerly mentioned best friend. Followed years later with Anthony, who despite “breaking down” at the thought of us being across the country from each other broke up with me more or less because I wouldn’t have sex with him— for weeks afterwards I wondered if maybe that would have made everything better, if really it was me who had done something wrong. He was also the reason two of my friends didn’t talk to me for the better part of a school year. Before, during, and after Anthony was Ryan, who was never ever anything close to my boyfriend, but it didn’t matter to me because I depended on him as much as— or more than— any of my other friends at the time. There was also the detail of his much courted girlfriend, Annie. As Meiko says, “I know better not to be friends with boys with girlfriends.” Only, apparently I didn’t.

I think they’ve all got a little piece of me. Or maybe I have a little piece of them, and I carry it around with me to be evidence— brandished when things don’t go quite right. I’ve wanted to commit them to paper for ages, but I could never get it in the right light, the right angle. Even now, it’s a thrown together assortment of names and status blurbs— it lacks depth of focus and grey area open to interpretation. Maybe that’s better for me though— everyone knows Chelsee Bergen doesn’t do grey area. Things are one thing, or another. Lipkin, one of the few prized male role models in my life (and that’s full of its own problems and peculiarities) once said to me, “If you don’t like the answer, you change the question until it fits the way you’d like it to.” True story.

I don’t really know what that all means, except that it’s… problematic— which is another umbrella term, so I should define it. Being in control doesn’t really make me happy, because I’m never really in control. Neither does setting every guy in my life up for failure by depending on them, and then racing to pull out the rug before they do. I don’t even know if I actually do that. Mostly I’m just afraid that I do, and I’ve got a track record that doesn’t exactly contradict the hypothesis. So I’m working to change that. Not just talking about it, but actively staying aware of what I do and how I act. It’s not what I’m used to, and it scares the hell out of it. But I’m hoping that it’s worth it, because I want to be happy, and to not worry about everything, and a little part of it is because there’s a boy I’d like to let in without all the spring-loaded traps and hazards. A boy that I look forward to talking to every day, because he’s my friend, and who I love the smell of, and who somehow confuses me but also makes perfect sense. Which all scares me, because I emotionally invest in everything (another Chelsee Bergen trade mark), and because more than I worry that he’ll do something to hurt me, I worry that I’ll do something to hurt me— that I’ll ignore what’s right in front of me, or make something where nothing exists, that I will get carried away (manifesto, anyone?). But I can’t predict those things, I can’t even anticipate them. I shouldn’t try to. Maybe we’ll just be friends, like we have been, and that will be all that matters. Or maybe we’ll traverse the excruciating distance from East to West, and he’ll touch me softly like he does, and I’ll bite his lip between kisses because it’s just a little bit rough— a little badass, the way we always say we are. Or, or, maybe, maybe, I could go on forever. But I won’t. Instead I’ll have some faith, and give it some time, and remember that things change, life goes on, and time doesn’t stop for anyone.


My latest television obsession is Misfits (only now I’m caught up so I have to wait for new episodes like every body else), and it’s got me thinking a lot about the way that I am, and what kind of super power I might have. I’ll explain why those two things go together.

See, the premise of Misfits is that a group of five teenagers (they’re really like early twenties but calling them young adults would be weird) are doing community service (they’re on probation for committing various crimes) when this freak storm happens, they’re all struck by lightning, and they end up with weird powers. At first the powers seem completely random, but really they’re all related in some way to the characters central feelings, actions, or wants.

For instance, one of them used to be a star runner but he was caught with drugs, so he was ban from competitive running for a year. Only time he had ever done anything wrong. He ends up with the power to rewind time (the caveat of course is that it only happens when he is deeply affected by something- and even then it can be hit or miss. Plus the whole changing the past consequences thing)

The shy, kind of weird kid who just wants to be accepted gets the ability to become invisible (at first it was involuntary and happened when he felt excluded or unseen)

There are also more weird powers- things that aren’t as run of the mill. One of the original five, a girl who oozed sex appeal and disinterest, makes people violently desperate to have sex with her whenever she touches them (yeah, it’s a problem).

The storm also affected other people in the area, including a dairy loving coffee shop worker who ends up with the ability to control dairy products with his mind (he calls it lactokenisis). It seems like a totally useless power until he starts killing people with the dairy products they’ve eaten– then it’s fucking scary.

So it makes me wonder, what kind of power would I end up with? I worry about the future a lot- would that perhaps result in psychic foresight? A long standing fear of mine, grown especially prominent lately, is that people don’t actually like me or want me around– superhuman charm, or maybe reading minds? In a discussion that I don’t entirely remember with Lipkin about super powers once he said something about my ability to generation images and ideas, so maybe I’d be able to project things from my head into reality? Obviously I’ll never know (unless we get a power granting freak snow storm here in Reno), but I still wonder. It says a lot about a person.

If Belen had a power, I think it would be some kind of superhuman luck. We joke that Belen “always wins. Even if it’s not a contest.” So maybe her power would make it impossible for her to lose. The catch of course would be that everyone around her could lose, so obviously friends and family would become big targets for mustache twirling villains.

If I come up with some other ones later I’ll add them. What would your power be?