All Work and Some Play

For some strange reason I'm in a remarkably good mood today! There's no reason that I should be. I had to wake up really early; I was out late drinking last night (but not too much); I have a shitload of work piling up in front of me; and there's nothing special going on. Maybe it's still the residual effects of the newness of my hair. In any case, for some reason I feel good. When I got to work today I found myself nearly skipping back to my office from the photocopier!

Seriously, though--I need to get myself in better shape in terms of my school work. I'm in the final stretch and didn't get nearly enough done over the past few days. I wanted to finish my World War I paper by yesterday, and yet I still have half of it to write. Ughhh.... I got nothing done on Sunday after that super-late Saturday night out, and all of the Narc contact on Sunday.

Speaking of Narc (as you know I love to do), Hammer pointed something interesting out to me. She noticed that I always feel so much better after I've seen Narc. Thinking about it, she's right. And it's not even that I love seeing him all that much, it's just that when I don't, I feel so dreadfully out of control. He leaves me in unbearable silence--not answering my calls and not calling me. He completely disappears, tapping into all of my "abandonment" issues and leaving me with no recourse. I fucking hate it! I have no Narc-anxiety at the moment though. Right now, I'm still coasting on the recent visit. Plus, I'm almost positive that he's not seeing that other girl. Even better-- on Monday I sent him a text asking him about the NIN concert, and he actually answered! Wow!

Hyde: So? How was it? Did it blow your mind or have you lost your faith in all music?

Narc: It was very good, but not magical in the way that his old shows were. He turns 40 tomorrow, guess that may explain a bit of it...

Hyde: Does 40 really do that to a person? I expect by 40 to just be hitting my stride! (I hope!) Glad you had a good time though. Still stuck working on WWI...lol. :)

Narc: No Reply. But who cares? Not the new dark-haired me, that's for sure! (Hammer also pointed out to me that I tend to put him up on a pedestal when I don't see him. So I'm going to try not to do that anymore.)

Hmmm? What else happened on Monday?

I taught, had a voice lesson and sat in a cafe for four hours working on my paper. Then I headed home and cleaned my house for a while. NextDoorNeighbor was preparing to take off for Mexico (he left Tuesday morning), so we decided to go out for a "bon voyage" drink. I brought my attendance sheets with me, which BarMan thought was funny. He complained of being exhausted and hungover.

"Maybe you need a pick me up?" I suggested. (Honestly, I didn't mean anything devious by it!)

"Jesus, Hyde! I don't think so," he laughed.

"I meant coffee...or sugar," I told him.

He laughed again.

I told him that I would stay longer, but that I had to be back at my house by 9:00 to meet B for our 24 night.

"There's only two weeks of the show left, right?" BarMan asked.

"Yeah, but this is my last week watching with B because he's going to the Philippines next week. In other words, it's my last week of restraint."

BarMan started cracking up.

"So this has been restraint thus far? Hold up.... let me take a minute to process that." He was being dramatic--putting on quite a show of shock.

Then he and NextDoorNeighbor had some fun cracking jokes at my expense. I didn't mind though--they're both friends.

Back at home, I ordered some take-out but the food took forever to arrive. I was annoyed because in my building you have to go down to the lobby to pick up the food and I didn't want to miss any of 24. On top of that, the guy on the phone had told me that I would have it in 10-20 minutes but it never arrived. 40 minutes later, I called the restaurant to complain and to find out what had happened. The guy on the phone started giving me some bullshit story about how the food always takes at least half and hour to arrive and he had told me that. It was a lie. I've ordered from them a million times before, and I was sure they had told me 10-20 minutes. I was pissed off (which, by the way is an EXTREMELY rare occurrence!) .

"You said it would be up to 20 minutes max," I said. "I just want to know where my food is."

"I never said that... Just listen to me! Listen to me!" the guy kept insisting.

Finally, I exploded.

"I don't want to listen to you! I just want my FUCKING FOOD!"

I hung up the phone.

The only reason I'm bothering to recount this exchange here is because that kind of aggression is so completely unlike me. B was sitting there and heard it and was shocked. I'm never the type to confront or complain or even send back food in a restaurant. So what was up with me? Once again, I have to attribute it to the black hair. A girl could get used to this!

B and I had such a nice night together. I so enjoyed it. It was so cozy and comfortable and wonderful. I love Mondays and I was sad that it was the last of our 24 nights together.

On Tuesday I woke up really early. NextDoorNeighbor had to be up at 5:30 to catch his flight and he was worried that he might sleep through his alarm. I volunteered to get up at 5:30 also so that I could give him a wake up call. Now, there's no reason that I had to be up at that hour, but he's a friend, so I didn't mind doing him the favor. After the wakeup call, I fell back asleep, but only for another hour or so. Since I couldn't really get back to bed, I decided to get up to work on my paper.

I put in another few hours of work, but it was clear that I wasn't going to make the 2:00 pm deadline (of course, in grad school, a deadline is a relative thing!). Instead of killing myself, I decided to go to my cousin's graduation. My cousin just finished at Columbia Tuesday was the "class day" ceremony. I got there at around 11:30.

It was surreal to be there. I graduated from Columbia five years ago and had been to four graduations prior to my own. My choir always performed the Alma Mater and the Fight Song. (This year they had an a capella group do it). I'd seen Anxious graduate in '97, a few friends in '98 (they don't all have code names here, so I'll leave it at that), a whole slew of friends in '99 (including B!). My cousin had come to visit me at school when she was just a prospective student (my junior year). She was such a baby then. I can't believe how fast time moves. I felt old. It's strange--it's like time just goes on repeating itself there. It was like walking into a memory.

After the ceremony, we all went for lunch (my aunt, uncle, two cousins, my mom, grandpa and my cousin's boyfriend). I couldn't stay for the whole meal because I had to get to class, so I took off after the salad course.

Class wasn't a "real" class. It was the last day, so we met at a local bar/restaurant and just talked a little to wrap the semester up. Then I headed back to my place to "work." My noble aims of working turned into watching Dr. Phil before I could get myself to park my ass in front of the computer. I managed to do a little work, watched some TV and ate dinner. Then, of course, came American Idol. It was a good show. I was impressed with Bo Bice's second song. I have to say--he completely won me over with that one. I no longer mourn Constantine. (Well, maybe just a little...)

After the show, I talked to my mom on the phone for a while. She was telling me some funny stories about my dad. Ever since we had that dinner together on the anniversary of his death, it has been a little easier to talk about him. It's almost as if before that, all we could talk about was his illness, and now the real person that he was is allowed to come back. I think my mom is enjoying letting herself remember the good times. I wish I could have known him better. It breaks my heart that I can't do anything about that. (Talk about having no control...) :-(

Anyway, I hadn't seen IrishBird in over a week because she'd been vacationing in South Beach. I decided to stop by Cheers for a drink or two. She was shocked when I walked in with my black hair. I loved it! She said she really liked it and that it was "very dramatic." BarMan popped by, even though it was his night off. He had some time to kill in the neighborhood before meeting up with his roommate. In the meanwhile, I was softly singing along to one of the cheesy '80s tunes over the radio. The guy sitting next to me told me that I had a really pretty voice. I thanked him and that sparked an entire conversation.

It turns out that the guy is from Dallas (uh oh... I love those southern accents!). But he's definitely not a prospective match. First of all, he's not really my type, and second of all, he's married. So what's he doing in NY? He lives here (in a hotel, mind you) for five days a week and then flies back to Texas every weekend. As such, he doesn't have any kind of social life in NY and he hardly knows anyone here. He told me that it was really hard not to have anyone to talk to.

We got into a whole discussion about the differences between Texas and New York. According to him, they're complete opposites. (Liu--would you agree?) For example, the Texan said that the other day, he saw some homeless guy jump in front of a woman, shouting at her just to scare her. Then the homeless man started laughing when he got a frightened reaction from the woman. He was shocked that nobody on the street did anything about it. I thought that was completely normal. I told him that it's just like that in NY--that for the most part, everyone minds they're own business. It's for self protection--nobody sees anything.

Well, the Texan said that in Texas it would never have gone down like that. He said that in Texas they "know how to treat a lady" and how to "protect a woman." He told me that there, at least five guys would have jumped that homeless man coming to the lady's defense.

"That's the attack that 'no one would have seen' when the cops came around!" he laughed.

I asked if he'd gotten involved in fights like that before. He assured me that he has many times.

"The only time I won't get involved is a 'lover's quarrel,'" he said. "What's between a man and a wife is none of my business."

(That kind of made me think that spousal abuse is not as abhorrent to him as it should be.)

In any case, told me that he loves to ride bikes and that just this week he rode all the way down the East Side and around to Battery Park. He asked if I wanted to go bike-riding with him.

"I don't really know how to ride," I said. "I haven't been on a bike since the fourth grade!"

He promised that it's easy and I agreed to give it a try. On his way out, he told me that he'd call me early next week. He seems like a nice enough guy and wasn't being at all sleazy to me. He was totally upfront about being married and didn't try to touch me, so maybe he really is just looking for a friend. I don't know... I really don't think I'm going to be able to ride a bike, but we'll see... I'm not even sure if he'll call or if he does if I'll want to go.

After the Texan left, there was really no one there except me, FightingMensch, PumpedUp, IrishBird and two old drunk Irish guys. They started telling jokes to me and IrishBird. Their jokes were really lame. One included an awful John Wayne impression.

At about midnight, B called. He was feeling really depressed. I told him how much I love him and asked if there was anything I could do for him. He could tell that I had had a few drinks though, and I think it upset him even more. I kicked myself for not being there for him in the way that he needed me. I don't know if that's stupid, but I still felt really bad about it. We hung up after just a few minutes but I texted him later to see if he was okay. Then I called him again this morning. I finally just heard back from him and we're going to get lunch.

When I got home last night, I couldn't sleep. I really needed the sleep, but my mind was restless. I sat down in front of the computer and pulled up my paper. No. Wasn't going to happen. I had already had about 5 glasses of wine and 2 whiskeys. I was in no shape to write. Then I opened my blog. I kept staring at it, exhaustedly, trying to think of something to post. I just wasn't in the mood to write. I just kept reading that last post that I put up about the "Angel of History." For some strange reason, I decided to send an email to Narc.

I wrote:

Can't sleep tonight, but don't want to bother you by calling to see if you're up. On another note-- have you ever come across this? (It's semi oft-quoted. I just encountered it again in one of my WWI books). I think it's beautiful, but then again, I'm backwards looking too. Wondering what you think of this view of history/progress/time...

-D

(Then I copied that quote).

I don't know why I sent it. I just did. After I hit "send," I felt really anxious, so I decided to "scrap it" and go to bed.

This morning I was expecting to wake up a bit of a wreck from the drinking and lack of sleep, but instead I woke up refreshed and in a good mood! Today I taught the last of my Monday/Wednesday classes. I just got back to my office and sat down to check my email, and guess what? NARC WROTE BACK!!! Interesting, n'est pas?

He said:

Pretty dark, that one...

I always liked the Socratic/Greek view: we aren't walking forward, one front in front of the other, down the road of time/progress/etc, but rather, walking backward, one foot behind the other, facing only that direction in which we came, fixated on what was before, watching the scenery on either side ebb by, and assuming that, because we can see where we've been, we know where the road is going.

N

I thought it was a weird message. First of all, what he wrote isn't all that different from what I wrote to him. Second of all, he didn't include any kind of salutation or closing. There were no niceties. It was just strangely to the point. But, whatever... I'm tired of trying to figure him out.

I also got an email from Anxious, all about how BulgarianGuy is madly in love with her. Apparently she's become the "sole purpose" for his even being in this country. Later on in the email she writes:

Speaking of declarations of love, have you heard any more out of the Stallion lately? That whole situation really intrigues me. As does a person who is not bright enough to realize that if you're in love with someone you have never spent time with sober, what kind of love is that? (The fact that he has a girlfriend in CA reminds me of that old song, "When I'm Not Near the Girl I Love, I Love the Girl I'm Near"!)

Am I crazy, or is she passive aggressive?

Anyway, B just called again and I'm late to meet him. More musings later...

-hyde-