Part two...

Here is part two of the most boring e-mail ever.

So I left off talking about getting hired at Ultratech…

That was in 1992. I moved into a house with a Chinese friend and
co-worker, named Jimmy. He was the nephew of the homeowner, and thus
made himself the property manager, so to speak. The house was in
Fremont, and had four bedrooms. He had a huge Rottweiller named Bear,
which weighed about 180 lbs, and he would get on my furniture.
Rottweiller dogs are large and muscular, and are one of the most
fierce varieties. Bear was no exception…he also slobbered a lot, which
made me uncomfortable with having him on my couches, bed, etc. I would
try to get him off the furniture, and he would growl. That made me
feel uncomfortable, since Jimmy didn't have much concern for my
belongings. I would literally hit Bear in the mouth with a closed fist
to get him to move, and he would merely think I was playing.  The
house also had a bad cockroach problem, (I hate cockroaches,) and
Jimmy was a messy person. After a month of living there, things got
significantly worse, when Jimmy decided to rent one of the other rooms
to a recovering heroine addict. He had a girlfriend that would come
over, and she had a cocaine problem. Jimmy was okay as far as drug
problems were concerned, he wouldn't even drink, though he smoked
marijuana often. I enjoyed drinking beer, and would come home with a
six pack, and the other roommate would be upset that I drank in front
of him, since he was a recovering abuser. Never mind the fact that he
and his girlfriend would stay up all night fighting, being loud and
otherwise inconsiderate, I couldn't even unwind on my own couch with a
beer to watch my own TV. I stayed there for three months, to satisfy
my lease agreement, and the last two months I worked almost 18 hours a
day. I never went home, except to get clean clothes. I would shower at
work, and would drink coffee all night at Denny's on Mission
Boulevard, just to avoid that situation. Jimmy and I parted ways and a
friendship was lost.

After I moved out, I went to my family's home for about a month, until
I could find a new place to live.  I ended up moving into what is
still my favorite place I've lived, a townhouse in South San Jose,
with an old friend named Mike. We had a roommate who would never show
his face, so essentially we had the place to ourselves. I met Kanika
then, somewhere around 1993.  Aside from working at Ultratech, I would
teach percussion and music part-time, usually at local high schools,
as well as giving private lessons. Kanika was a dance instructor at
the same school, and she and I quickly became friends. At this time,
Robin (whose mother had hired me at Ultratech) and I had broken up.
Kanika and I got together soon after that, and we stayed together for
about 18 months.

Kanika was born in Thailand, daughter of an Irish-American father and
Thai mother. She lived in a meager trailer with her parents, and was
going to school for fashion. I was her first real serious
relationship, and she was extremely attached to me. We had a good
relationship, but she was very naïve about life and had a problem
accepting reality at times, preferring to lie to herself about things.
It was only a matter of time before her delusions caused her to lie to
me about something important, and I ended up breaking up with her
because of it. She was the type that if a bee stung her, she would say
to herself that it didn't, and would leave the stinger in her, causing
more hurt, just to deny reality.

Kanika and I had a pregnancy scare. Since she hated her parents, she
would stay often with me at my place more than she would stay at her
own. I became aware of a lot of things about her, and being observant,
I realized that she was late on her period. I asked her about that,
and she told me she was only 2 weeks late.  I was concerned, but
accepted that she said it was only two weeks, her cycle wasn't
consistent anyway. After two more weeks, I asked again if she had
missed her period, and she told me that it hadn't happened yet. I
became worried at that point, and told her we should get a test. She
told me she wasn't pregnant, but she would take a store bought test.
When we took the test, it came back positive and negative, at the same
time. Tests were not as good back then, I suppose. Anyway, I told her
that I thought she should see her gynecologist, and she told me that
she had never seen one before. Believing she was pregnant, I told her
that we had to find out for certain if we were pregnant, and told her
that seeing a doctor was the right thing to do. Out of her fear, she
initially refused, and after talking about it over the span of a week
or so, she slipped and mentioned that it was more than a month that
she missed her period, it was actually two months. She was still
against seeing a doctor, saying her mother never had to see one, so
why should she? My position was that if she was pregnant, whatever
choice we made about keeping it, was fine as long as I knew that she
and the baby were healthy. If she was pregnant and wanted to keep the
baby, I told her I had the right to promote the health for both she
and the baby. After arguing with her about it, she slipped again and
mentioned that she had been late for three months, not two. We ended
up going to Kaiser, got a blood test, and scheduled an appointment
with a gynecologist. I was proud of her for overcoming her fear of
doctors, in particular the gynecologist.  After taking the blood test,
we went to the gynecologist appointment, and I even told her I would
go in with her if it would help her feel better. I just wanted to make
sure she was healthy, and if the pregnancy test was positive, the baby
being healthy was at the top of my concerns. We went to the
appointment, sat down with the doctor, and she got up and left. I was
very disappointed, almost heart broken, that she wouldn't do the right
thing.

The following day, we got news that she was not pregnant after all.
She was elated, so happy. I was not happy at all, I was actually very
upset at her for lying to me. She slipped again, mentioning that she
hadn't had her period in FOUR months. I was very upset, and sat her
down to talk to her about our relationship. I broke up with her,
telling her that I couldn't spend my time with someone who lied to me
about something so important, and further, that I couldn't be with
someone who couldn't accept the reality and consequences of having a
sexual relationship, and was not willing to take the appropriate steps
to ensure that she was healthy, pregnant or not.  She was heart
broken, since I was the first serious boyfriend she had. It was a
tough break up for her, and she told all of her friends that I left
her to buy a new car. I never could understand that rumor, but
apparently she had a lot of people that believed her, and many people
who were what I thought friends at the time, began spreading vicious
and hurtful rumors about me. I moved on, and she and I went separate
ways.

My roommate Mike and I would go to the bar often at the Holiday Inn on
Bernal Road, for dinner and drinks, and it became the bar I would
spend most of my spare time at. I started going there around the
middle of 1994, and that is where I met Wendy. She was the bartender
there, and she and I quickly became friends. I was attracted to her
the first night I saw her, and that was probably another reason I
spent so much time there, never mind the fact that all my friends went
there daily, and they had a great beer selection. I wasn't even 21
yet, but no one ever bothered to check my ID.  I was there everyday,
and though I was attracted to Wendy, I never even let on that I was
interested in her until New Years Eve. I had a friend, James, I would
drink with daily and he was attracted to a  cocktail waitress, and he
knew I was attracted to Wendy. On New Years of 1995, I bought Wendy a
bouquet of flowers, and she kissed me at the stroke of midnight. My
friend, realizing that he didn't have a chance with the cocktail
waitress, became enamored of Wendy, and asked her out without my
knowledge. She decided to go out with him, and I decided that I
wouldn't pursue her.  After I found out that she was going out with
James, our relationship became strained. He would tell me about
details I didn't want to hear, and would always say that if I was not
comfortable with him seeing her, he would step aside for me. Finally,
after stewing over her and James for about a month, I told him to step
aside, that I was upset at him for seeing her when he knew I was
attracted to her first, and he relented…though not completely. I had a
dinner I made for friends one night, and I brought her a plate of
food. I told her I wanted her and James to stop seeing each other, and
that I had wanted to be with her for so long. I think that took her by
surprise, and she told James that she didn't want anything to do with
him anymore, that she was now with me.

Wendy and I started seeing each other officially in February of 1995.
By March of that year, my landlord decided to sell the townhouse I
lived in with Mike. He offered the place to us for $135,000, and for
the life of me, I can't figure out why we didn't buy it, (it would be
worth over $400,00 now).  Anyway, without a new place to move in to,
Wendy suggested that I move into her place, a two bedroom apartment in
a bad part of town. Other than Kanika staying with me for extended
periods of time, I had never lived with a woman before, so I was
reluctant. Financially it made a lot of sense, though, and I was
comfortable with the idea of living with Wendy, so I took that step
and moved in with her.

We lived in the Valley Palms apartment complex, off of Lanai and
Tully, a run down complex with low income tenants. I was the only
white person that lived there, and that was worrisome at first, since
gang activity was very high, and most gang members didn't care for
white people. We both worked very late at night, and normally I would
get home around 1:00am, and pick Wendy up from work after 2:00am.
There was always crime in that neighborhood, especially during the
summer nights. I would be up in the morning early, and would watch
many of the children that played in the common areas, especially three
Vietnamese kids that lived a couple doors down. This was probably the
reason I never had too many problems with any of the gang members,
since many of their kids and little brothers and sisters looked up to
me, and the families appreciated that I looked after all the kids
around the complex.

After about a year, Wendy's mother and father moved into our place,
since they were saving money to go to Vietnam, and wanted to save
money for a house as well. Wendy and I made enough money to cover most
expenses, and her parents both worked as well. Wendy's mom was an
excellent cook, and she would normally handle the cooking duties while
she lived with us. This was a weird situation for me, since Wendy and
I weren't married, and her parents slept in one room, Wendy and I in
the other. Neither of her parents spoke English regularly, so
communication was difficult at first. Wendy didn't speak Vietnamese
very well either, so I began learning how to speak. The exposure to
Vietnamese culture was awkward at first, but I quickly caught on to
many of the differences. Wendy's Grandmother and I were especially
close, which was really odd, considering I could never understand her
dialect, and she couldn't understand any English. The rest of the
extended family was put off because I was so close to the older people
in the family, but they knew that I cared very much for everyone, so I
was soon accepted.

Wendy had two sisters, one older, one younger. The younger sister,
Tami, had a 4 year old boy named Andrew, which she had when she was
fifteen. Andrew had never seen his father, and lived with Wendy's
parents, and thus, us. Andrew was a joy to be around. He was very well
behaved, and very bright. Wendy and I became the parent figures for
him, and put him into school. Tami was seldom around, so raising
Andrew became my top priority. I taught him to speak, read, write,
count, add, subtract…all the fundamental learning that every kid
learns. I would stay up with him and read to him every night, help him
with his homework, and he would help me with my Vietnamese,
essentially helping him to maintain some of his cultural identity as
well. Although he called me Uncle Dan, he was always like my own son,
at least that's how I treated him. He was the highlight of my being
with Wendy, and the years I spent with him were some of the best
experiences I have had, to this day. We would go on fishing trips,
play together with the three Vietnamese kids (which became his best
friends at the time), nap together, read together…it was a wonderful
time for me.

Wendy and I became pregnant after our first 18 months together. (I
know I mentioned all this to you before, but I'll write it since I
know you remember more from reading than from hearing!) ;)  When Wendy
was in her early teens, she had been diagnosed with pre-cancerous
cells in her cervix, and had to go through a couple surgeries and
treatment. When we went to the doctor for her first prenatal exam, the
gynecologist found evidence that those cells had returned, and was
concerned about Wendy's health. After more testing, it was determined
that Wendy would have to undergo more treatment, and that our chances
of having a baby were slim to none. We aborted our first baby in her
first trimester. This was a terribly hard thing for me, and Wendy had
already had an abortion from an earlier relationship. Being raised
catholic, I was at spiritual odds with the whole thing, and felt God
was punishing me for living with a woman while being unwed.  I thought
I was being punished for all the sins I had committed in my life, I
felt that God hated me.

I ran away. After I took Wendy to have the procedure done, I left two
days after. I went to Arizona, and Wendy told me I should go, to clear
my head. She was the strong one during the whole thing, and though I
told her I would stay, I was hoping she would tell me to go. I had
planned already to be in Arizona for that week, and it was a trip I
should have cancelled, but I was not thinking clearly. When I came
back, there was some kind of tension from Wendy. We went to dinner
that night, and she asked me if it was possible to love two people at
once. My stomach sank, and she told me that after I left, just three
days after, (within a week of the abortion), she slept with her
ex-boyfriend. I was already heart broken over terminating our
pregnancy, and that news hit me like a bullet.

I could do nothing but forgive her for her betrayal, since I felt
responsible for the terrible situation she and I had been going
through, and then I left on top of that, if even for just a week. We
went through a terrible time that month, but decided to work things
out. Life went on normally, though I became very protective and
jealous over her, especially at the bar where she worked, and where I
later took on a weekend job bartending myself. She would dress
promiscuously, showing a lot of skin, and flirted with all of the
customers. I started drinking extremely heavily, and was getting sick
very often from the effect the drinking had on my immune system. I had
gone months without even talking to my family, and one night in a
drunken depression, I called my Mom.

My Mom asked me how I had been, and what was going on in my life. I
simply told her I was drinking too much, and didn't care anymore. She
asked me why I didn't just stop drinking for awhile, and after that
night, I did. I quit drinking for two years, in fact.

Anyway, about a year before Wendy and I would ultimately break up, we
got pregnant again. We decided we would try to have this child, if all
things with her health checked out. Our prenatal exams went well, and
Wendy and I were excited that this was the time things would finally
go in our favor. The end of our six months being pregnant, we went on
a trip to Las Vegas, and we actually almost ended up marrying there.
We had already planned on a trip to Vietnam to see her other
Grandmother, and we planned on marrying there in her hometown, Da Lat.

When we were on our way home, it was around 2:00am when we were coming
over Pacheco Pass, outside San Louis Reservoir. Wendy told me to pull
over, saying she wasn't feeling well, and had to go to the bathroom. I
pulled off, and Wendy ran out of the car. My friends and I waited for
ten minutes, and Wendy's best friend Becca went to find her. A half
hour later, Becca returned with Wendy, and Becca was crying. Wendy
wouldn't speak to me, and Becca took me aside to tell me she had just
had a miscarriage.

That would mark the beginning of the end for Wendy and I. Not long
after that, she broke up with me, and was dating other men even before
I had moved out of our place.

I moved back home. Wendy and I had a terrible break-up and would still
see each other, though she was seeing other people at the same time, I
figured we would work things out and get through our troubles. That
wasn't to be, unfortunately.

I had my car accident in April of 1999, and while I was in the
hospital, I kept telling my father to call Wendy. When I finally
talked to her, it was almost 1:00am, and I told her I needed her at
the hospital with me. She said she would be there, but she never came.

I moved into a new place with my old roommate Mike, and one other guy
I had met at Starbucks. At that point, I was recovering from my
accident, and wasn't working, since I was on long term disability. I
finally went back to work in February of 2001. In the eight months
preceding 9/11, I wrote my company's ISO 14000 program, and was doing
well financially. I had saved a lot of money, and was in the process
of paying off much of the debt I had incurred while being with Wendy,
(she was high maintenance, and very expensive to live with!)

Over the almost ten years of working at Ultratech, I had done many
different jobs. I started out creating an electronic database of
controlled documentation, and I also set up the first TCP/IP network
they had. I left the IT department for a better paying job that one of
the directors (who apparently liked me) thought I was well suited for,
in QA/QC. I worked with optical components that were used in our lens
system, and quickly became the resident metrology expert. After a few
years, I ran the metrology labs, and became responsible for developing
all the test protocols associated with lens verification. I was
respected, I was comfortable, and was one of the oldest employees,
seniority wise. I moved into the optical manufacturing/engineering
group as a process expert, until 2000, when I finally had enough of my
management. I went back to the documentation department where I wrote
the ISO 9000/14000 management system documentation and developed
training courses. Pretty boring stuff, actually.

When 9/11 happened, I knew lay-offs would be coming, so I volunteered.
I was the only person in my department who was single, had no
mortgage, no kids to take care of. Besides that, being there as long
as I had, I was ensured that my severance package would be more than
most others.

A week or so after 9/11, I sent out an e-mail to Kanika. She and I had
not spoken since I broke up with her years earlier. I'm still not
certain why I tried contacting her, maybe it was the nostalgic
feelings I was having at the time, knowing that I was leaving the
company I had worked for so long. I'd had an unsuccessful string of
relationships with women that I wasn't really serious about, and was
disenchanted about almost everything in my life. Anyway, Kanika
replied back the following day, and she told me that she had a baby
boy. We started exchanging e-mails back and forth, and agreed to meet
for lunch. It was nice seeing her, and it struck me then that she was
more mature than I remembered her. The more we talked, the more we
realized we liked being around each other. I met Reese the day after
my birthday in 2001. We started falling for each other again, and she
loved that I was comfortable with her new son. I was laid off from
Ultratech at the end of September.

Kanika had moved to Minnesota a couple years prior to that, and lived
with an abusive boyfriend, Dominic. He already had a child with
another woman when he met Kanika, and he never saw him or took any
kind of care for him. He was the same with Kanika and Reese, and she
made the decision to leave him and return to California, to her
parents house. Reese was just over a year old when she and I got back
together.

At first, everything was nice. I kept a certain amount of distance
from Reese, for fear that Kanika was only looking for someone to help
take care of him. His father had moved out here to be around the two
of them, and he lived nearby. She didn't want anything to do with him,
but she didn't want to deny access to Reese. The more she told me
about Reese's dad, the more I grew to despise him. One night, Kanika
called me crying, saying Dominic had cursed at her over the phone,
that he was supposed to return Reese home that night, and didn't want
to drive, since he had drank a twelve pack of beer. She had to go pick
him up, and she didn't want to go alone since he was particularly
abusive when he drank.  I went with her to his house, and she went
inside to get Reese. I stayed by the car to watch everything, and he
decided to pick a fight with me. I maintained control until Kanika and
Reese were in the car, so Reese couldn't see what was happening. For
the first time, I felt a protective rage like I hadn't felt since
Wendy. I threw Dominic into his garage door, and beat him very badly.
I told him that he could no longer contact her, that if he did, he
would have to deal with me again. If he needed to contact her, I told
him he could only call me first.

At that point, I was committed to providing for Reese, and to a
certain extent, Kanika. She was working at a construction firm in
Santa Clara as a receptionist, and living with her family, though she
had a terrible relationship with them. By that time, I had moved into
a room in a large house in Hidden Glen, off of White Rd. She would
come over often, and I would let her and Reese stay for days at a
time. Pretty soon though, she had all but moved into my place,
unbeknownst to my landlord, who lived just a few houses away. It was
an uncomfortable situation, that started to wear on us. Kanika was
more interested, it seemed, in marrying someone, anyone, and I felt
that she had a fantasy of living happily ever after, regardless of
what was reality.

By this time, I had started working for a general contractor at Pratt
and Whitney, and was putting in long hours. She didn't like that. I
wanted to maintain a relationship with her, but I wasn't ready to
marry, much less officially live together, and that bothered her. I
spent a lot of time with Reese, and had told Kanika that he should
refer to me as Uncle. Behind my back, she was teaching him to call me
"Daddy". Pretty soon, I had to tell her that she had to go back to her
parents house, and that I would come over everyday to tuck Reese in at
night. She wasn't happy about that, but that was all I felt
comfortable with at the time.

This was also the time that I got arrested. I was following her to her
parents home in my car when another car, similar to mine, raced up
along side of me, taunting me to race. The people in the other car
were younger, and assumed that I would entertain that notion, but I
have never been one to street race, especially when I had Reese and
Kanika just ahead of me in her car. The other driver was driving
dangerously, and was swerving around my car, just inches off of my
bumper. I saw a police car across the intersection, and instead of
turning left onto Capitol, I went through the intersection. The police
pulled me over, opting to let the other car go, apparently I was an
easier option since I was the slower of the two, and my registration
had also expired. One thing led to another, and I got arrested. I have
the letter I wrote just after being released from jail which describes
the chain of events leading up to my arrest, I should e-mail that to
you. I'm not sure what the background check you did said, but maybe
I'll send you my version of events.

So…that was around May of 2002. Kanika and I stayed together after
that until around September of that year, and I ended up breaking up
with her, again. For months I had not felt that she really loved me,
more that she only was in love with the idea of having a family. On
top of my feelings, Reese was becoming very hard to raise alone, and I
felt that Kanika wasn't doing her part as his mother. I was the one
who cooked everyday, changed his diapers, put him to sleep, bathed
him. I felt that she was merely using me as an over-glorified
babysitter. To me, it seemed she didn't care who it was, me or someone
else, as long as she could find a father for Reese. For almost all of
2002, even when she shared a bed with me for months, I could not make
love to her. I felt no attraction, no emotional connection. I had a
fear that she was cheating on me, as well, though she swore that she
never did. I had a strong feeling about it though, kind of a sixth
sense kind of feeling. This put a huge strain on her, and the
relationship, so come September, I finally decided to end the
relationship.

After having a few months of separation, Kanika and I started missing
each other, again. I felt that maybe I was wrong in leaving her and
Reese, and to top things off, in February of 2003 she had told me she
was moving into an apartment, with a guy she started dating only
recently. He lived in Southern California, and was going to move up
here to be with her. This bothered me, and I felt that we deserved
another chance to make things work. I really missed Reese...I had also
resolved to myself that maybe I had a fear of committing to her, and
that was why I had pushed her away before. I told her how I felt, and
she said she missed our being together as well. We then made plans to
move into the apartment together, and work towards getting married.

We lasted ten months. I had found out after 4 months that she had
cheated on me the year before, and that hurt me so much. For Reese's
benefit, I forgave her, but I was not trusting anymore. I realized
that I was only there because I felt a responsibility to Reese. I
should have known to trust my instincts, since it turned out I was
indeed right that she had cheated on me.

(When I was younger I was involved in a musical group, the Santa Clara
Vanguard. It was a "Drum and Bugle Corps", and Kanika had been
involved in it as well, though after I had already left the
organization. To explain what it was about to an outsider isn't very
easy, but it was a lot like a military style organization as far as
discipline was concerned. It also took a huge amount of time and
commitment, and we toured cross country every summer. The organization
is primarily for teenagers, and you "aged-out" upon turning 21,
meaning you could no longer be in the Corps. I didn't age-out of the
group, but left in 1992 to pursue work, realizing that music would
never be how I made money.)

The Corps started an Alumni group comprised of adults who had been
involved when they were younger. Kanika was a part of that group, and
also started going to a newer competitive adult group in San
Francisco, where she met a lot of old friends. While Kanika enjoyed
her extra-curricular lifestyle, I was the one who stayed at home
raising Reese, in fact, I had become at that point, a "stay at home"
Dad. Kanika started talking with one particular person, Chris, who I
knew back in the early 90's. Her group was to compete in a show in
Pennsylvania, and I found out that while she was there, she shared a
room with Chris. I also found out that she had shared a room with him
in Illinois, the year before. This was the final betrayal, so I moved
out in September of 2004. I never contacted her again, and moved to my
parents place in Pine Grove, hoping to get away from San Jose for
good.

Leaving Kanika was very easy for me, and I soon realized that my
"love" for her was one of obligation, and only to Reese. Leaving him
was very hard for me, and I put myself to work in the mountains that
winter, hoping to forget the pain and betrayal I felt. I chopped wood
and lumber-jacked that winter, helped rebuild a house with my Dad and
Uncle for the local barber, Ed, an old man who needed a lot of help.
While that was fine temporary work, I knew I would not find anything
that paid well in the mountains. I applied for a job for a home
builder in Santa Clara and moved back to San Jose, February of last
year. I moved into a room at Ken and Lou Ann's.

That is when I came into Klondike's, and when I saw you for the first time…

There is a lot more history than just what I wrote so far, and I hope
someday you get to know all of it. I know it must be boring to read
all this about me, and frankly it embarrasses me to write it to you,
but I thought you might like to know a little more about my
background.

 

 

It is completely okay that you asked me to send you the rest of the
e-mail...I don't see how it is inappropriate at all...

I hope you never have to feel like holding anything back from me...I
am sorry I reacted the way I did earlier today, in fact. I made you
feel that you shouldn't ask me questions. I have such a fear of
disappointing you...but I will always be honest to you, and I told you
I won't misrepresent myself to you ever again. I want no secrets
between us, at least from my side.

I want to know everything about you...and I want you to know
everything about me. We have a lifetime to do that...while telling you
about my past is sometimes a humbling and embarassing thing, I want
you to know my past. I pray that you will accept my past for what it
is, and remember that I have learned from those experiences, for
better or for worse.

I hope you are sleeping well right now, Jen...I fell asleep after I
got off the phone with you earlier, but I woke up about an hour ago. I
am going back to bed now, though, and will think of you as I sleep...
:)