ecember 2005 and only two last items to address and the company wind-up would be finished. One was the removal of all proprietary information on the company server. I called in the tech support person that had assisted in both the new hardware and software installation a year or so ago. I instructed him to erase most and to preserve the company accounting and financial record files and transfer them to disk along with any personal files that were in my secure archive file on the LAN system. The project didn't amass to more than a couple of hours work, but when he returned with several disks, one labelled 'miscellaneous data files', it piqued my curiosity.Indeed, the logs of my chats with "Doug" had been auto saved in a secure section of the server designed to save Corporate proprietary information, despite having disabled messenger's own archive feature at "Doug"'s instruction. Of course, I recall now, one instance when my computer crashed in the midst of a critical report shortly before the server was to be serviced and it left me days behind schedule. Presumably, tech had installed this software as a safeguard in the event of a future crisis.
Naturally, I had good recall of all that we'd shared in the many hundreds of hours chatting anyway, but to re-read them brought back very fond memories of a time, now nearly two years ago, when I had a companion and someone to talk with and who appeared to not only care for me, but wanted to be a part of my life. By comparison, my existence in late 2005, was achingly void of any pleasure, comfort or companionship and my self-esteem ebbing with "Doug"'s failure to reply to my emails.
It was while reviewing what amounted to several thousands of pages of chat sessions that I printed off the disk that I saw, without question, that my memory of the way the relationship developed had been quite accurate. I had not imagined or embellished Doug's attention.
It was patently clear from the chat transcripts that "Doug" had made most of the contact; it was he who initially claimed he was inexplicably drawn to me; he who had difficulty getting through a day without making contact; he who had stated the sexual fantasies he wished to explore with me and he who admitted to being emotionally attached. Not that I wasn't becoming emotionally attached as well mind you, but I was concerned that without a phone number and alternate means of contact, he, like all the rest had in my immediate sphere, could go "POOF" and disappear, even though he promised he would not.
Reading the epic text was both very comforting and painful. My eyes were misty for almost a week as I reviewed each and every session, recalling the range of topics we'd discussed and the ease of conversation. Reviewing some rather explicit ones, where he'd described the sexual impact my passionate words were having on him, were melancholic and sad. When he shared that I was a source of pleasure for him, was that his impression of me or was it all untrue? I'd been so sincere, but was he just playing with me? Learning that my marriage had been a scheme executed purposefully by my ex-husband had made me feel so insignificant as a person and now, what could I think of this repeated episode, by someone who claimed he was my friend? Had I been an inanimate object to my ex-husband and now, once again, simply a science experiment to Doug? These questions plagued me terribly.
I first mentioned Operant Conditioning in the entry called "Let sleeping pups lie". It was almost correct. Actually, it wasn't dogs that "Doug" had trained but whales, whale pups perhaps. He had said that he could get a pup to do almost anything, through operant conditioning, by positive reinforcement with rewards or by negative punishment in raising a stick.
No doubt having having written a number of scientific papers on a new pod of whales that had been witnessed in British Columbia, where he'd done his undergraduate work, and then having served as a whale trainer in San Juans in the Pacific Northwest and , he'd be intimately familiar with the various forms of Operant Conditioning. As positive reinforcement rewards a behaviour by adding a pleasant reward, it inceases the likelihood that a desired behavior will reoccur simply due to the fact that the consequence of that behaviour was enjoyable. Likewise, with negative punishment, a pleasure or reward is removed or withheld until desired behaviour is exhibited. Both forms of Operant Conditioning.
Accordingly, in pursuit to demonstrate methods of conditioning, B. F. Skinner, a leader in behavioural research, designed a box so that he could control the environment for his research. Into that box, later referred to as Skinner's Box, a rat was placed and Skinner went on to show that a rat will press a lever, a learned behaviour, if he wants nourishment. Was I, indeed, trapped in Skinner's box?
Wishing to make sure that "Doug" felt comfortable knowing that I did not pose any threat to him, I mailed to his office the disk that the tech support had given to me of the chat records, along with a Christmas card and a genuinely caring and friendly letter explaining that I had discovered the files by accident. I hoped that he would recognise that although I had been the one so mislead, and severely damaged as a consequence, I'd never wish for him to feel vulnerable in any way and that there was no further need for any aposematic reactions in the future. I received confirmation that the package arrived just a few days before Christmas.
Reading the epic text was both very comforting and painful. My eyes were misty for almost a week as I reviewed each and every session, recalling the range of topics we'd discussed and the ease of conversation. Reviewing some rather explicit ones, where he'd described the sexual impact my passionate words were having on him, were melancholic and sad. When he shared that I was a source of pleasure for him, was that his impression of me or was it all untrue? I'd been so sincere, but was he just playing with me? Learning that my marriage had been a scheme executed purposefully by my ex-husband had made me feel so insignificant as a person and now, what could I think of this repeated episode, by someone who claimed he was my friend? Had I been an inanimate object to my ex-husband and now, once again, simply a science experiment to Doug? These questions plagued me terribly.
I first mentioned Operant Conditioning in the entry called "Let sleeping pups lie". It was almost correct. Actually, it wasn't dogs that "Doug" had trained but whales, whale pups perhaps. He had said that he could get a pup to do almost anything, through operant conditioning, by positive reinforcement with rewards or by negative punishment in raising a stick.
No doubt having having written a number of scientific papers on a new pod of whales that had been witnessed in British Columbia, where he'd done his undergraduate work, and then having served as a whale trainer in San Juans in the Pacific Northwest and , he'd be intimately familiar with the various forms of Operant Conditioning. As positive reinforcement rewards a behaviour by adding a pleasant reward, it inceases the likelihood that a desired behavior will reoccur simply due to the fact that the consequence of that behaviour was enjoyable. Likewise, with negative punishment, a pleasure or reward is removed or withheld until desired behaviour is exhibited. Both forms of Operant Conditioning.
Accordingly, in pursuit to demonstrate methods of conditioning, B. F. Skinner, a leader in behavioural research, designed a box so that he could control the environment for his research. Into that box, later referred to as Skinner's Box, a rat was placed and Skinner went on to show that a rat will press a lever, a learned behaviour, if he wants nourishment. Was I, indeed, trapped in Skinner's box?
Wishing to make sure that "Doug" felt comfortable knowing that I did not pose any threat to him, I mailed to his office the disk that the tech support had given to me of the chat records, along with a Christmas card and a genuinely caring and friendly letter explaining that I had discovered the files by accident. I hoped that he would recognise that although I had been the one so mislead, and severely damaged as a consequence, I'd never wish for him to feel vulnerable in any way and that there was no further need for any aposematic reactions in the future. I received confirmation that the package arrived just a few days before Christmas.
One may have a blazing hearth in one's soul,
and yet no one ever comes to sit by it
and yet no one ever comes to sit by it
~ Van Gogh
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