vicarious.ly (6 page)

I had to take a flight straight to Boston in the afternoon to get ready for a client presentation in Manhattan the next day. When I got back to Boston, I realized I should plan out to see Michelle. When I got back home, though, I spent most of the day in my bed thinking about the possibility of seeing Michelle again and how great the past weekend was. Ah, I shouldn’t rush into things so I’ll plan our next meeting for some time in the next month. Who knows, if things go really well we possibly could spend Valentine’s Day together.

It’s been about a week since the New Year and I just recently had another meeting with my therapist. She’s happy about some of the progress that I’ve made in my life, but she warned me that some of the elated feelings I have now might be a result of the New Year and seeing people that I haven’t seen in a long time. She said that I would have to actively work on my relationships and self if I want to continue feeling well. The one thing I didn’t want to hear was that she believed that one day I should revisit Eden as she believes I haven’t gotten closure with it.
As for Michelle? I didn’t talk to my therapist about her.

Happy New Year.
I hope this year brings me answers to questions I have been asking. By the way I scheduled a catch up with Michelle for the end of the month. True, I could have done it sooner but I have to travel a lot in the next few weeks to catch up on work.

“What if one day we found out that all the languages spoken on this planet derived from the same source?”

I heard her say that in one of the first classes I attended in college. I responded to her and said, “That sounds like an interesting idea. Are you trying to suggest creationism? That idea makes me think of Adam and Eve.”

“No, I don’t think so. I think this idea works whether you believe in creationism or evolution. If the world and humans were created, then humans could have had one ancestry. In the case of evolution, maybe language was such a survival advantage that the only lineage of humans that survived were those that adopted language at some point.”

I looked at her in disbelief.

She said, “I just believe it’s that you cannot separate language from our ability to think. I haven’t really thought about this a lot. This is just my reaction to what I think language can be. Isn’t that the topic of today’s discussion?”

I clenched my jaw. I ended up dropping that class, Ancient Languages, after the first week. But, what Kyla said that day would influence my thoughts and actions for the years to come. Ever since that discussion, I couldn’t stop thinking about what she said. For some reason, that question drove all of my thoughts in my spare time. How did language begin? After all it is language that allows humans to express complex thoughts to each other. It’s language that allows us to communicate feelings and ideas to each other. Without it, wouldn’t we be alone? Would we even understand what the concept of what it means to be alone if it weren’t for language?

A part of me always regretted dropping that Ancient Languages class. What I would have done to have another conversation with Kyla. I never even introduced myself to her in that class. I just caught her name during roll call on the first day. My ‘conversation’ with her was just a reaction to what she said. She was sitting about two rows in front of me so she might have never even caught sight of my face.

For the next few months, I’d think about Kyla whenever I would find myself daydreaming on a bench on campus. Maybe I would finally run into her again. I’d introduce myself, say I remembered her from our first day of class and then maybe we would be able to get coffee and speak about linguistics.

That never happened.

I didn’t seriously start thinking about linguistics until my second semester of college. I took a course called Algorithmic Language Processing that changed my life. That course was all about making a computer understand conversational and written language, much like online translators and search engines. Understanding language in a way that makes mathematical sense is a complicated task and this is what this course taught us students to do. My professor was the leading researcher on Natural Language Processing in the world. That’s when a computer can take conversational text and figure out what you are trying to communicate.

The point of this Algorithmic Language Processing class was to take Natural Language Processing to the next level. My professor believed that all languages were extremely similar. Some people believe that language shapes the way you think. You hear people say, “There isn’t a way to say what I mean in this language” or “this idea doesn’t translate well from Japanese to English.” My professor thought this was bogus because he believed that language was an extension of a human brain. He also believed that human beings share neurological circuitry such that we feel the same base set of emotions.

Throughout the entire semester he argued that every spoken language shares the same base structure. He developed algorithms that statistically showed the similarities between the semantic reasoning, classification, tokenization, stemming, tagging, and parsing of different languages. That class was as much of a mathematics and computer science class as much as it was a linguistics class.

I haven’t properly introduced Professor Craig. I was entranced by his work. Maybe it was him that introduced me into linguistics and then into philology. I would go to his office hours to talk about language and words. We would go to coffee shops where his graduate students would discuss their research amongst each other.

One day at a coffee shop, I proposed a conjecture that was even more radical than what he taught us in Algorithmic Language Processing. I told him that I had done some preliminary work showing that it may be possible that all of the spoken languages came from a common lineage. That got Professor Craig’s immediate attention.

He said, “That sounds like a fantastic idea -- but how do you propose you could ever gather enough evidence to support such a claim?”

I took out my computer and showed him a rough program I built using some of the equations I studied in Algorithmic Language Processing. I told him that I downloaded 10,000 books and works of text from the university library’s website. These texts spanned thousands of years beginning with the first documented form of language. Then I used his algorithms to show the statistical similarities between different language structures over time.

Professor Craig interrupted me and said, “I’ve attempted to do work like this before, and then I stopped. I could find similarities but that’s not enough to prove anything beyond reasonable doubt.”

I knew he was going to say that. I had been working for months on one algorithm. Now it was time to show him what I developed. “Professor, I’ve loved your course so far. I want to show you an
algorithm I developed. It’s called Eden,” I said. I started to sweat. I had been spending a good amount of my free time glued to my computer and textbooks trying to turn language into a series of computations that could be used to show how language has evolved geographically throughout the planet over time.

“Jake you have my full attention,” He said.

I opened up a file that contained the Eden algorithm.

Before I began college it was always my dream to be a programmer like Bill Gates or Steve Wozniak. I would spend nights tinkering with a computer making programs. By the time I went into
highschool, I was writing algorithms because it allowed me to compete in programming competitions. I loved computers. That is until I fell in love with language which led me to study linguistics in general. Then I fell in love with words which led me to focus on philology.

As the algorithm was running, I was explaining to Professor Craig my background on programming algorithms. In advance, I apologized for using some of his Natural Language algorithms that powered Eden. Before I showed him some results that I found, I asked if he had any questions for me. Professor Craig just looked at me, half like I was crazy and half in bewilderment.

I told him that Eden was a set of algorithms that tracked semantic reasoning, parsing, classification and structural changes in languages over time. Each book or piece of writing that I had loaded into the program had a date, language name, and geographic region associated with it. What Eden did was to calculate the formation of complex sentences, verbs, and idea structure as a formula. It was something I hacked together in a couple of months so a lot of my calculations weren’t quite scientific. But I was able to show how language structure has evolved consistently through time. Without going into the details, I argued that I thought I came up with enough preliminary data to show that there is a possibility that all the languages spoken on this planet came from a single tribe that once lived on this planet.

I knew Professor Craig must have thought I was insane, but he kept listening to me in that coffee shop for over an hour. By the time I was done showing him the work that I created, it was night. I asked him if he had any questions. He leaned back on his chair and ordered another coffee. I started to get nervous. It was just then that I realized that all of his graduate students were around the table looking at me with their eyebrows raised. They had been there for the past two hours.

“Jake, I’d like you to do research with me. I’d like to see what you’ve done. I’ve never seen anything like it. I’ll let you use any of my work and you can own the research you do. I’ve been looking for something like this my entire life.”

It was a start of an amazing mentorship. I spent the summer in Boston working with Professor Craig. I spent months cleaning up the algorithms in Eden. I also started adding more and more written sources to the Eden project. Eventually, I struck up a deal with my university to be able to access all of their online texts to analyze language structure.

In the course of the next year, I turned Eden into a massive machine learning project. Eden’s algorithms would change based on the results it found. Eden would automatically scan any texts my university owned and use that as a part of its internal language base.

As I continued to build out Eden, I kept working under Professor Craig. He helped me publish results based on the findings I saw on Eden. He also helped me talk at conferences. Eventually I made Eden available to anybody who wanted to use it on the internet.

The attention was great. I felt like I was progressing with my life at such an amazing pace. I was totally engrossed with this project which I thought could get me into any graduate school I wanted to go to. I was doing something that never happened before. It was exciting and was a rush.

Then things changed.

I finally ran into Kyla again at a party during my junior year of college. I just wanted to see if she could even remember who I was. I introduced myself to her, stumbling around drunk as usual. We chatted and talked. I told her that I was doing a philology project called Eden. I told her that I was trying to map all the languages to a common source. I was so excited to see if she remembered that first week of college. She told me that the only thing that she remembered about me was that I came in on the second week of class and gave the professor a form saying that I dropped the class. Apparently after I left, the professor asked if anybody else wanted to drop the course they were free to do so. Kyla said that she wished she would have taken up the professor on her offer.

I began talking about Eden hopefully trying to stir up the memories of her comment on that first day of class.

“That’s pretty cool,” she said half not listening to what I was saying.

“Haven’t you ever thought about
it. You know if all the languages that we have spoken come from a common source?” I said.

I was trying to see if she remembered the discussion on the first day of ancient languages.

“Not really. The only thing I really remember about ancient languages is that I really disliked it.” She said.

My mind was blown that this one girl that ingrained this idea in my mind did not recall this conversation that shaped the next two years of my life. Wasn’t the joke really on me when Kyla told me that she met me plenty of times before I finally recalled her name that one night we spent the night going around the St. Charles River? During the whole time I dated her, I kept hoping that one day she would remember the first day of Ancient Languages. I was trying to make her recall that memory by talking about Eden, by giving her semantics books, by spending time with her talking about language formation. None of it rang a bell and she was clueless about my endeavors to try to make her remember about a moment that changed my life.

Every time I worked on Eden after Kyla and I broke up, I just saw her shadows everywhere. Maybe I should have told her about the comment she made in Ancient Languages. I can’t change the past, but at the time I wasn’t prepared to handle the lack of enthusiasm and drive that I had after she walked out of my life.

Kyla said, “You’ll never look at me the same way you look at Eden.”
I still cringe thinking about how much of a sick joke that statement it.

Eden began and died with Kyla. I’ve said enough.

After a whole month of procrastinating, I finally got around to calling Michelle to meet up with her again. By this point it’s been a couple of months since we’ve seen each other. In my defense, I’ve been escaping from the New England winter by going to Miami a couple of times in the past month for the weekend. I fell in love with Florida ever since New Year’s in the Florida Keys. One of my coworkers lives in Miami so he’s been showing me around the nightlife of South Beach. It’s funny, even though I was being introduced to new people quite frequently I couldn’t stop thinking about Michelle.

Every so often I would think that I caught a glimpse of Michelle in a public place. Of course it wasn’t her, I was in a different geographic region that she was in. When I realized I was having these strange thoughts, I recalled some memories from college with Paul.

Paul would talk about how our thoughts and desires shape the way that we experience the world around us. There are so many things happening at any given moment that your mind has to filter most things out. What you’re left with is a highly subjective version of the world and what is happening around you. Whenever Paul would share his philosophical thoughts with me it made me feel alone, like I was the only person experiencing life the way I see it. Paul thought that there was real beauty the way he described the way an individual experiences the world. He believed that since every person experiences life in such a different
way, isn’t it beautiful that people can have relationships with each other and have common experiences that matter in an enduring way? I still think about what he told me on his wedding day,

“We’ve been friends a long time Jake. We’ve had many common experiences but more experiences where we have been apart.
Isn’t is amazing then that you and me can both agree that we’re great friends? Isn’t it amazing how we remember many of the same memories out of all the possible memories we have? That makes me believe that this world isn’t a random place. Relationships and friendship are beautiful things,” Paul said to me as a newlywed.

All of these thoughts about non-randomness and the importance of friendship made me think about my relationship with Michelle. I bet she would agree that we are extremely important to each other. I would go as far to say that
her and I have been attracted to each other in the last few years. It was time to actuate and articulate the flickering thoughts and desires that I’ve had about her for the past few years.

So here I am back in Boston attempting to meet up with her. I instantly saw the influence that she’s had in my life when I swung my door open. The arrangement of my apartment is all due to her. I called her on Tuesday to see if she was available for Friday night dinner. I told her I had a few things to talk to her about and that I wanted to update her with my life.

“Of course! It’s been too long. Hey, I’ve been feeling kind of bad about how we parted last time. Let’s just pick things up right where they left off,” she said.

I got excited. Come to think about it, I haven’t really been in contact with Michelle much since that day at the MFA. We decided on this Italian restaurant close to where we live. I spend the better part of the week wondering what things I would say to her. Maybe Crista had already tipped Michelle off about our conversation over New Year’s? Michelle did seem really excited to hear from me. My heart was beating faster throughout the week every time I found myself daydreaming about the next time I’d see Michelle. Sometimes I’d feel nervous and at other times I would feel excited.

I flew into Boston Thursday night from Raleigh, where my new client was at, and immediately couldn’t wait for the next day. Before I got ready to meet Michelle even the trivial things that I never thought about were starting to be major decisions. What cologne should I wear? What jacket should I wear? Jeans or slacks? Every detail mattered.

I met Michelle at her front door and saw he smile at me. She looked stunning. She came up to me, gave me an embrace and a kiss on the cheek. I was careful not to breathe to close to her because I had a few shots of whisky to get me relaxed right before I went over to her place.

“Jake, so great to see you,” she said.

“Can you believe we haven’t seen each other after our yearly art museum meeting?” I said.

“Yea so much has happened since then, I have to tell you all about it,” she said.

We walked over to the South End to this Italian restaurant and were seated promptly. We had a tiny table by the front window where I could see the fresh snowfall outside. I ordered a bottle of wine and Michelle and I just started speaking like old times again. I decided to test the scenario that I was walking into out a little bit.

“Michelle, did you ever hear that I ran into Crista over New Year’s,” I said.

“Oh yea, she said you two had a great conversation. She’s always been a fan of you,” Michelle said.

I didn’t know how to read Michelle’s answer. Had Crista updated her on the conversation that we had? Maybe Michelle already suspected that I was going to make a move? I decided to play the conversation safe and just talk about how I’ve been proactively trying to be happier on a day to day level.

“That’s great. You know you do seem so full of energy and excitement today,” she said.

The waiter came back for our orders. I ordered some frutti di mare with fra diavolo sauce. Michelle got the butternut squash ravioli. I just keep looking in her eyes while speaking to her, sipping my wine, eating bread, and talking about how we need to see each other more often.

I was exactly where I wanted to be right then and there right in front of her. People I know have this preconceived notion that it is amazing that I get to travel to many different locations in a given week. They also tell me that they are jealous of all the traveling I do. In actuality, I would give all the traveling up if I could just feel like I was exactly where I wanted to be instead of just feeling like I should be somewhere else. That’s getting ahead of the situation I was in. I needed to snap back to the music, the restaurant, and Michelle right in front of me. How could I have been so blindsided by the memories of a girl I dated years ago that I did not realize just what an amazing person I had been spending time with for the last few years. My life could have been entirely different with Michelle, but you know it’s better late than never.

I saw Michelle pull back her sweater and she was wearing the bracelet I gave her on her 21st birthday. Immediately thought about all the hints she gave me throughout the years.

The food was brought out promptly and as I was eating Michelle finally said, “I have some big news.”

“What is it?” I said.

“So I’ve been really serious with this new guy. I want you to meet him tomorrow. He couldn’t make it to dinner because he’s speaking at a conference tonight at BU just a few blocks from here.”

My stomach sank. Suddenly I wasn’t hungry at all. I had to force myself to chew and swallow each bit of food on my plate. I also had to force myself to pretend I was interested in Michelle telling me all about this guy I wish didn’t exist or ever meet her.

Oh give me all the details. Where’d you meet? What’s this guy like and what does he do?” I said.

Michelle told me that she met this guy online. He was just finishing up his Ph.D. in Anthropology at BU. His research was on tracking the evolution of clan based behavior in pre-societal and current social structures. Michelle kept going on and on about how me and him would get along so well. She told me that I had to meet them tomorrow over drinks. I remember every detail that she told me about him. He took up the remainder of our conversation. After the waiter brought us the check, I realized that I didn’t know what dating website they met on.

That would be the total stinger, for me to have written the algorithm that paired them up.

“Just wondering, what online dating site did you two meet on?” I said.

“
YinYang, it’s actually really good Jake, she said.

At least I technically had nothing to do with them two meeting.

“I’ve heard good things about that website,” I said.

Even though I was present for the rest of dinner, I wasn’t actually there. I was absolutely dumbfounded by the events of the day. I don’t remember anything I said or anything Michelle
said, which all related to the new guy she was dating. I do remember everything that she told me about him almost to the point like I felt I knew the guy. The worst part about it is that I really liked everything she told me about him, except for the fact that he was dating Michelle. I stayed calm and just put on a mask. I couldn’t do anything but be the supportive friend just like I had been for the past almost decade of my life. If I acted in any way other than that, it would be entirely inconsistent with the person I had established myself to be in the friendship between me and Michelle.

Whenever I’m about to act in a way that’s out of ‘character’, I just hide behind a mask and start acting. Some things are better left unsaid. Even though my chest was burning as I was asking Michelle to keep on telling me about her boyfriend, I couldn’t let her know about my previous intentions for the evening. Nor could she know that I’d been daydreaming about her
non stop when she had been meeting, getting to know, then dating this new guy.

After I walked Michelle home, I watched her walk up her steps. As I walked away I saw her turn on her apartment lights. Then I thought to myself, in about an hour Diego would be walking in and being exactly where I wanted to be. Until tomorrow, he’d be a mystery to me. Oh yea, except for the dozens of pictures Michelle showed me of him on her phone.

I had experienced this all before. As I was walking towards my apartment I passed by the used bookstore that Kyla and I shared our last meal in. I grabbed a coffee from that bookstore to keep me company down the cold walk outside. Suddenly the events of the two nights converged and I felt like I was watching the past happen like I was an outside observer on my own life. I imagined the events of the dinner I just had with Michelle and the last dinner I had with Kyla happening at the same time while I was walking down the sidewalk of Newbury Street. Life is full of surprises isn’t it?

At that moment I thought it would be fitting to walk back to the Public Garden so I could overlay this experience on top of the memory I had with Kyla the last time I saw her there. I kept sipping my coffee on the way there and just sat there thinking how delusional I had been this entire year. The worst part about this scenario is that I built it up in my imagination so much.

I wanted to feel pain. I wanted to feel loss. I wanted to cry and feel like my life was falling apart. But I didn’t feel any of that. I felt quite calm, a little disappointed but not sad. I just looked over to the swan boat lagoon and felt a little empty. I didn’t feel lonely, just empty. Not in the sense I was sad, I just couldn’t really think about anything.

I sat on the same bench that I was on when Kyla broke up with me. I imagined that somewhere, somehow, within the mysteries of time I was sitting next to Jake as Kyla was just breaking up with him. We were separated only by time.

“Hey Jake, the next six years are going to be pretty wild. You’ll be back here again but you’ll be thinking about a different girl. Funny the ways things work out right?” I said, imagining speaking to a younger version of myself.

Oh well. At least I didn’t write the algorithm that paired them together. Now that would be pretty bad right? Thank God it was
YinYang.

“Please don’t lose hope Jake. Stay strong for the both of us and make it through those next six years,” I said as a tear went down my face.

I sat there on that bench for the next few hours and thought about the word opportunity. I always thought of myself as a person who seized the opportunities that were in front of me. That night, in no way could I say that I didn’t take advantage of any opportunities. I graduated from a great college, I was on my way to a great career, but somehow I felt like I didn’t make the most out of some of the opportunities that weren’t directly presented to me.

For the rest of the night I thought about the word choice. I thought about how the expectations of other people have dictated the choices that I made and the opportunities I sought out. I also kept thinking because of some of the choices I made, I abandoned or failed to see opportunities that I should have pursued.

When I’m at a loss of words, I start spending lots of time thinking about specific words and their meaning. Not just the meaning from a dictionary point of view but what the word means to me in my life. It’s one of those habits from philology that just won’t die.

As my fingers were starting to go numb from the cold, I walked back home with my empty cup of coffee.

Shit. Back to the drawing board.