It's a Spring Thing

Despite the massive amounts of time that I wasted this weekend, and the massive amounts of work still hanging over my head, I'm in a remarkably good mood! It must be the beautiful springtime weather.

("See Hyde, maybe you like the warm weather more than you think!" Hammer said to me this morning).

Yesterday I just couldn't get myself to do any work, as it would have required being indoors. I walked to the library depressedly after being stood up for lunch by B. I just felt really lonely yesterday--not sure why. I smoked a lot of cigarettes in compensation. I also called a million and one people--all of those friends who I think fondly of, but with whom I have all together too little contact. I ended up on the phone for a while with both of my roommates from that 2002 summer in London. One lives in NY, but we just never seem to get together. The other is in law school in Virginia. She'll be visiting in NY the first week in May, so hopefully we can have a little reunion. I can't believe that it's already been three years since I've seen her!

I also talked to Liu for a really long time yesterday. I just miss her way too much. I'm glad that she's happy in her Texas life and moving towards marriage with "the Cowboy." On the other hand, it makes me a little sad because I'm losing all hope of her ever moving back to NY. I guess I'll just have to adjust and go out to Texas to visit as much as possible. She's been really good at making annual trips to NY.

So I got about as far as Bryant Park in my efforts to do some work. I sat there on a bench, people watching, chain-smoking and gabbing on the phone for a few hours. B called me and said that he felt bad about our miscommunication. He said that he would come into the city to have coffee with me. He wanted to make sure that I wasn't sad about his cancellation and I guess he could tell that I was feeling lonely. I thought it was a really sweet gesture. As much as we drive each other crazy, I really do love him.

I also called Hammer to see what she was up to. She wasn't far from the Park, so before B arrived, she stopped by and we hung out for a little while. Then B and I got our coffee and sat outside some more and talked for a while. At around 5:00 he had to head home. I had plans to meet NextDoorNeighbor at around 5:30. I was late to meet him though, because on the way home, I stopped and bought a shirt. NextDoorNeighbor called me and told me he was heading to Thaddy Cons--another Irish pub in the neighborhood. He was bringing his Backgammon board. When I got there, he had reserved us a table right on the street. It was nice to be able to stay outdoors. Sometimes I feel so holed up--life in NY city can be all about being stuffed in a tiny box with just a glimpse of sky.

I never drink beer, but his beer looked so beautiful and golden and refreshing that I ordered one myself. I had been under the impression that he knew how to play backgammon and that he was going to teach me, but it turns out that he had no idea about how to play at all. We had to figure it out together. It was a lot of fun though. A lot of people on the street stopped and stared at our game. I guess it looked like we knew what we were doing.

He only had two beers, but got pretty drunk off of them. After about three games, we left to go pick up some pad thai for dinner. I was smoking again, and NextDoorNeighbor asked me for a cigarette. I never saw anyone get so buzzed off of one smoke! He was being really funny. We started talking about smoking and I told him that I've always secretly wanted to be the Marlboro Man. He thought that was funny. I told him that if I were a guy I'm sure that I'd be covered with a lot more tattoos and I would definitely ride a bike. That would definitely be my type. I asked him what his style would be if he were a girl. (That's a little game that my sisters and I like to play). He said that he thinks he would be "jappy-slutty." I was cracking up.


We had called ahead for our food so we sat and ate it at East Palace. Then back home together to the 20th floor! NextDoorNeighbor had to make some phone calls and I wanted some "downtime" before I began the next stage of the night. A friend of mine had invited me to come hear him play at the Beekman Tower Hotel. He's trained as a classical pianist, but plays jazz as well and got a gig playing the hotel bar. He said that he would be playing from 9:00 to midnight. Since the hotel is only a few blocks from my place, I thought I might stop by.

I watched a few episodes of the Simpsons while I got changed to go out. I had invited NextDoorNeighbor to come with me, but he said that he was too tired. At around 10:15, I headed out. I had never been up to that hotel bar. It really offers an amazing view. It was crazy expensive though. I ordered a jack on the rocks and it cost me nearly $12!!! I think their price-fixed dinner goes for about $50. (Not terrible prices for NY, but way too much for my modest budget). To make matters worse, my friend wasn't even there. What the fuck? I called him.

"Um, PianoBoy, what's up with the fact that you're not here?"

"Oh god! Are you there? I feel so bad. Um, I tried to call you to tell you-- I decided not to go in tonight. Are you pissed?"

"Don't worry," I said. "Not a big deal." (But seriously, how do you "try" to call someone? You either call or you don't.)

I had my drink and left.

On the way back home I swung by Manchester. Maeve was on duty.

"Hyde! Haven't seen you ’round here in a while!" she said. She lowered her voice. "Are you still with 'the boy'?" She raised an eyebrow.

"Not really," I said. (It made me sad.) "Whatever. I'm in a good mood today," I smiled. "Let's not get into such things."

I ordered one of her fabulous white russians.

"Oh no! We're out of Stoly Vanilla."

"Well, what can you make me instead? I trust you. I'll take any one of your wonderful concoctions."

She made me something delicious--still made with cream, but it had an orange/chocolate flavor. She said that she made it with cointreau, frangelico, khalua, vodka and cream. Yum!

The guy next to me started talking to me about some article he was reading in the paper about a resort that costs $30,000 a week. It turns out this guy manages a lounge over in Midtown West. He gave me his card and told me to stop by sometime.

A few minutes later, another guy came in and pulled up a bar stool really close to me. He was clearly a little drunk. He started a conversation with me too. He asked me if I could tell he was a "foreigner."

"Not really by looks," I said, "but you have an accent. I can tell by the way you speak. Where are you from?"

"Paris."

Apparently, he's some big shot at the UN-- the main political advisor to the French representative. (I already “googled” him today). He asked me what I think about the UN and we got into a whole discussion about "democracy" and global politics. I was a little nervous, because even though I know my history, I am never nearly as caught up as I should be on current affairs. Especially relying on American news--we never hear anything here about the rest of the world. It's all about the BBC for that!

At some point he mentioned to me that he had lived in Israel on the West Bank for five years, doing work in the refugee camps.

"Where on the West Bank?" I asked.

"Ramallah."

"Ramallah? Really? I have family there."

"No way!" He was shocked.

"Yeah. There and in Jerusalem. My uncle does public relations and is a professor at Birzeit University."

"I can't believe that I'm sitting here and talking to someone who knows Birzeit University!" he said.

We talked for a while more. He was shocked that I could drink whiskey straight up. (After two of Maeve's specialty drinks, I had switched back to Jack) He was drinking white wine. He said that he had been drinking all afternoon at a picnic in Central Park. He asked if I wanted to go outside for a cigarette.

Once we were outside, he tried to kiss me. (What's up with that always happening? Guys in this city have way too much gall). I kind of moved out of the way. I was leaning up against the building. He leaned into me, moving his body up against mine.

"C'mon, I don't think so," I said. "You're pretty drunk."

"So?"

"Um, I think I'm going back inside now."

(He was a pretty good looking guy, but I guess I've totally fallen out of "slut-mode." Besides, you guys know I'm still a little emotionally hung up on Narc and I don't think I need to complicate things for myself. I just need a little breather from drama.)

I went back into the bar and he followed. He went into the men's room. I went into the ladies room. When I came out I didn't see him. Was he still in there? Did he leave? I don't know, but I didn't really care all that much. I paid my tab and checked out of there.

Back at home, I made it to bed by 1:30 am or so. Not bad for a night involving drinking, n'est pas? This morning I got up and taught--no hangover, no guilt. Yay!

Later Hammer and I are headed out to NJ to hear Tom Laqueur give a talk at Rutgers. (It's on "Death and Cultural Pluralism." Don’t know quite what that means yet.) I've got to go grab lunch and do some reading in the library now.

But the day's been made beautiful because I've been serenaded all morning by "From Elvis in Memphis"

Hope you're all enjoying spring!


-hyde-