Smoking

Last night I stood outside, leaning against the railing, a cigarette dangling from my lips. My head was cracking from the alcohol I drank earlier that afternoon. The sky-- electric blue. I swam through it until I caught sight of the Time Warner/AOL buildings. There they were-- seamlessly camouflaged into the sky, shining like polished wall paint. It reminded me of that spot in the old MoMA at the top of the escalator-- it was labeled as "art," but it was just a piece of polished wall. That always perplexed me.

I was far enough West to be in a residential neighborhood. The brick apartment houses stood stretching into the sky like bright orange sticks of coral. I squinted my eyes, trying to make them sway, as if in water. It didn't work, but a smattering of glowing yellow windows blinked back at me like enormous fish eyes.

My hands on my thighs, I stood there half hunched over, the breeze whipping my hair across my eyes. My hair was pin straight yesterday. And just then, I remembered how very black I had made it. My tongue was burning from the smoke.

Reaching into my pocket, I balanced my cigarette in the other hand, steadily reapplying my lipstick.

(Ne me quitte pas...)

In this light, my wrists looked white--ghostly white. I stared at them. "Lifting lakes on your wrists." Where did that come from? Isn't that a line from a Leonard Cohen song or something? "The pools you lift on your wrists..."

I thought of "Tanushka" from the Russian folk song that we just started looking at in choir. With her black hair and white skin, she leads the dance through the town. She flirts with all the boys. O-le-le-le-ley! I tried to feel like Tanushka, but I couldn't.

My lips were starting to feel dry again. I let the cigarette dangle there and pretended I was Brando...or Paul Newman.

The trailing tail lights on the traffic became swollen bubbles about to burst into liquid red. Blood running through the streets. Like all of this history I read... And tell...

I felt pale. Paler than usual because of my heightened awareness of the blackness of my hair; paler than usual because of the six layers of lipstick I had applied in the past half hour; paler than usual because I hadn't worn any eye makeup--not even mascara, and was sure my eyelids looked pink and swollen--something like a Bougereau.

(Ne me quitte pas...)

My tongue burned from the cigarettes.

...Saturday Comes...

Okay-- I'm a total asshole! Wanna know why?

Here's how Hyde has spent her day so far:

• Woke up super-early, drank a red bull and spent over an hour navigating the commute from "midtown-East" to "midtown-West" via New York City Public Transit. (Fucking ridiculous!)
• Taught that awful class in which I realized that the New York City Public School System teaches nothing about world religions, and therefore very little about tolerating or understanding different systems of belief.
• Taught a second class on Italian and German Unifications
• Picked up my paycheck (yay!)
• Took the cross-town bus back to the East Side (letting me off one block from Manchester Pub). (Oh-- and by the way, I was sitting surrounded by a bunch of super-hot "working class" guys on the bus.)

Now, normally on Thursdays, I wouldn't have come home. Instead, I would have gone to take my own class on "Modern Italy." But the class has been cancelled this week, as my professor is away at a conference. As such, I have a few hours to myself before heading back to the West Side to teach again this evening.

So I got off the bus, saw the sign for Manchester, was enticed, knew I had papers to grade, and went in with the mind to drink one whiskey.

When I got in there, I realized I was the only woman in the joint. I was also the only person under 40. All of these stuffy-looking older men were drinking beer and either reading the paper or watching the soccer game. I sat down at the bar and ordered a Jack on the Rocks. Everyone in there stared at me. Why were they staring at me? I downed the first Jack fast and pulled out a pile of papers to grade. Then I ordered another. I noticed a few raised eyebrows.

Now you have to understand something about Hyde... She was awakened by this situation. The Jekyll in me bows to authority. She is the sweetest, most deferential and conscientious thing you'll ever meet. But the Hyde in me rose to the occasion. I wanted to make everyone look at me. I wanted to make a spectacle without saying a word.

So I did.

Now, nevermind the fact that I hadn't eaten breakfast or lunch or anything in the past 21 hours. I proceeded to drink five glasses of whiskey while appearing to remain stone cold sober. (In reality, I started to feel slightly tipsy. My tolerance is just about at that line, but no one would be able to tell from the outside).

With each new glass, another set of eyebrows was raised. I loved it! I fucking loved it!

So that's why I'm an asshole! Now I'm tipsy at 3:30 in the afternoon, knowing I have to go teach a class in 4 hours. And I did it just to alarm some stuffy over-40 assholes!

Okay... Enough about that. I'm sure I'll be sober but with a headache and cranky by the time 6:30 rolls around... That said, I have a lot more to post about, continuing where I left off about Saturday...

As I mentioned, Saturday was the first time I had the chance to see my stepbrother in quite some time. When he saw me coming into the hospital room, his face lit up. It was so sweet. He has been moved to a new room, and his new roomate's father was lurking about in the common area. My mom stopped to say "hi" to him. I'm sure she regret it almost as soon as he started talking. I've never met anyone more abrasive or more of a "know-it-all" in my entire life. He was clearly being hostile to my mom, which can only mean that he's spent too many hours talking to my stepbrother's biological mother, Peachy. (She's a witch. I don't care to elaborate beyond that right now...)

Anyway, my mom was super sweet to this guy and not at all combative. It was unlike her, so when he walked away, I asked her what was up with that.

"He's been through a lot of tragedy," she said. "I don't blame him for losing it a little."

"Like what?" I asked.

"Well, his son is here, and is suffering massive brain damage from an accident a few years ago. Then, just last year, his wife and 17-year-old daughter were killed by a drunk driver. This son is all he has left. And he's barely there!

It put things in perspective for me, to say the least.

That afternoon, there was a little carnival for the kids at the hospital playground. We took my stepbrother out there in his wheelchair. They had all sorts of events, like tossing foam balls into a basket, or trying to knock down bowling pins, etc. My step-brother didn't really want to participate, but he watched me and mom and LilSis play the games and laughed and gave us "high-fives" when we won. It was a really nice afternoon. My mom was being silly and "putting on a show," as we like to say, trying to make him laugh some more.

All in all, though, it's just really hard for me to be there. I have a low tolerance for that kind of emotional pain and I'm overwhelmed by heartbreak every time I see him. LilSis is so good with him--at ease and able to joke and talk to him freely. I, on the other hand, clam up, and get a little uncomfortable, and am not always sure what to say. I wish I were better at it, but it's hard for me to let the reality of what happened to him into my mind, and when I'm there, I'm confronted with it all at once. I had already been in a strange mood for much of the week, and spending the afternoon trying to repress that king of sadness caught up with me on the train ride home.

On my way home, I felt a cloud coming over me. I was just slipping into a darker and darker mood. I felt bitter and sad and tired and I just wanted to go home and vegetate in front of the television. I had some work to do though, and I needed to get myself psyched for NDN's birthday party, but I couldn't help how I was feeling.

I had agreed to meet NDN and a few of his friends at around 8:30 before heading over to the sushi restaurant for dinner. I got dressed for the evening, but still felt morose and anti-social. I had been chain-smoking all afternoon. It's a habit I've largely given up since college, as it's awful for my voice, but in that kind of black mood, I can't help it. I know the exact remedy for that kind of mood, though-- even though I should avoid using it for medicinal purposes. Whatever... I figured there was nothing like Jack Daniels to set me straight!

I left my building to head over to Cheers. Before getting there, I paused to sit on the steps of the Nigerian building to finish my cigarette. I stared at the traffic rushing down Second Avenue, trying to make my eyes blur to get a sort of hallucinatory effect. It only half worked. PumpedUp and his friend Duff walked by. He looked at me strangely, surprised to see me just sitting there just blankly staring at the street.

"Hey, what's up?" I said, half-heartedly.

"Hey, Hyde! Will we see you later tonight?"

"Maybe; maybe not..."

After my cigarette, I wandered into Cheers which was pathetically empty, except for the Colombian behind the bar. I ordered my Jack on the rocks and drank it down. NDN called my cell phone.

"Where are you? Because we're here at the apartment," he said.

He told me that he and his friend John (who had driven up for the party all the way from North Carolina) and John's friend Jim were already assembled and hanging out at his apartment.

"I would come up there, but I'm in a bad mood," I said. "I don't want to be a downer on your party, so I'm having a few drinks first."

(I tossed back another).

"Come on up here, Hyde," he insisted. "There's plenty to drink here."

"Like what?"

He gave me the list.

"Can I smoke?"

"Sure."

"Okay. I'll be up in a few."

Hammer called me in the meanwhile (from her weekend in Phoenix), so we caught up on the phone as I walked back home.

When I got to NDN's, he, John and Jim were just hanging out. We listened to Janis Joplin and I sat in his "special chair" drinking rum and diet coke and smoking out the window. At around 8:45 we took off for the restaurant.

NDN had quite a group of friends assembled--probably about 15 people or so. He chose a rowdy "all you can eat"/"all you can drink" sushi restaurant. (I opted out on the "all you can drink" to save space for later, although I downed my share of sake). I'm glad because NDN seemed to be having a great time. He loved it when the waitress brought out a desert and we all sang. People at the neighborhing table stood up and encouraged us all to do sake/beer car-bombs. Honestly, though--sake and beer? Doesn't that sound kind of gross?

At the end of the meal, I somehow ended up with the job of counting the money and managing the bill. (Those of you who know me from my college days will laugh-- as business manager of the choir my junior year, I was in charge of handling massive amounts of money while drunk at post-concert celebrations. The job seems to have stuck!) There was a slight problem with the waitress losing $20, but we got over it soon enough.

Anyway, after dinner, the plan was to head down to the East Village to a bar called Identity. NDN's boss' boyfriend owns the place. We split up into three cabs. I rode with Oc and NDN's friend Liz. We had a great conversation in the car ride down.

The bar was set up with a regular bar on the ground floor and a dance space in the room below. It was a nice size--small and not the regular kind of crazy club atmosphere, but I was reminded of my college days and popped a tab of E that I had brought with me. I hadn't planned on taking it, and only brought it in case my mood continued to spiral downwards, but when I saw that it was dancing, I couldn't resist. It reminded me of my "youth" with Liu!

I had a lot of fun, as I haven't been out dancing in a while. But the small space, combined with the dancing and the E started to make me feel like I was going to overheat. I went outside to sit on the curb and have a smoke. After a while, Oc joined me and we caught up a little bit. Then it was back inside for some more dancing. Then back upstairs for another drink or two.

NDN's boss asked me if I wanted to help her arrange to sing "Happy Birthday" to him again. She took me back into the kitchen where we stuck a candle into a cupcake and headed downstairs. Her boyfriend had gone on ahead to tell the D.J. to turn down the music.

At that very moment, I saw NDN heading to the upstairs area of the bar. I encouraged him to stay where he was. He obliged. Later, he tried to go back upstairs again. As we still hadn't worked out the logistics of shutting up the D.J. and getting the plan rolling, I had to find another reason to keep him downstairs.

Finally, it worked out. We sang "Happy Birthday" again, and it was all good. When I went back upstairs, his boss introduced me to her boyfriend's partner--the other owner of the bar. I was majorly feeling the effects of the drugs and alcohol and started to feel a sadness sweeping over me that I missed Narc. If you guys recall, I had been going back and forth in my head about whether or not to accept the offer of a dinner-date from that cab driver. Well, I decided that I wasn't going to fight myself on my love for Narc; but rather, I would focus on not seeing him, while doing other things that are positive for my own self-worth.

Since I was starting to feel fucked up, I wanted to be closer to home. I left the bar and took a cab back up to Cheers I texted NDN about it and left messages with him, Liz, Oc and another of his friends, Karen, hoping that someone would figure out where I had gone.

I barely remember my time at Cheers. I drank a lot more, saw FightingMensch there, zoned out for a while, and I think, excused myself by 3:30 am or so.

And that was that.

Again, I have more I want to update you guys on about this past week, but that's about all I can muster for now. If I'm going to get this whiskey out of my system in the next three hours, I have to eat something, so I'm off to make some popcorn.

:)

-h-

PS: Dan--I promise I haven't forgotten you!

As a Teacher, I'm Scared...

I'm teaching a class that covers history of the West from the Ancient World through the Reformation. As such, we started with Hebrew Civilization, went through the emergence of Christianity and today were discussing the beginnings of Islam. My students were confused about the relationship between the three religions, and so I had to go back through several of the stories again. I was absolutley horrified by their level of ignorance, the willingness to mock Islam and the unbelieveable amount of anti-Semitism that I encountered in the classrom.

Some of the comments that I heard:

"Don't Jews practice incest?" one student asked.

"Yeah, because they only marry each other," another replied.

"That's not true," I said.

"But it's in the bible. They practice incest there."

I vehemently protested, trying to explain that marriage within a community doesn't mean marriage within a family. Many of them confirmed that they had heard the same rumors. I must have looked visibly upset, because at last, one apologized.

"Hey, sorry if we upset you," she said.

"We need to get back to the subject of Islam," I answered.

I wrote the Five Pillars of Islam on the board.

"Fasting for a month!" one student exclaimed, in reference to Ramadan. "That's crazy! Why do they starve people in that religion?"

"It's not starving," I said. "They eat after sundown."

"That's stupid," said another. "I would want to eat."

"It's not that hard," said one girl, looking upset.

"Of course it's not," I said. "If it were your religion, you would be able to do it. Now I think you guys should be a little more sensitive with your remarks."

"I would want to eat," another muttered.

After that we were talking about the concept of charity and sacrifice.

"What kind of things are sacrificed?" one student asked.

"They sacrifice people!" another laughed. Many others joined in the laughter.

"That's ridiculous," I said. "And entirely inappropriate. So stop it."

Then I went on to try to explain the concept of Jihad-- as a holy or spiritual struggle for good in the world, both internally and externally.

"So what about the virgins? Don't they get virgins for killing people?" one girl asked.

The period was ending and everyone was rushing out of their chairs.

"We'll talk more about this next week," I called out, over the rustle.

As I was straightening up my papers, another girl approached me.

"So wait... I don't get it," she said. "Who are the Israelites then?"

"Do you mean modern Israel? Or are you talking about the Israelite kingdom that we talked about in class a few weeks ago?"

"I don't know-- the Israelites!"

"Well, the Israelites are Jews."

"So the Jews are the ones that wear long black dresses and walk around with yellow stars on them?"

What the fuck??? This in NY City! Jews with stars on them?

"Jews don't wear stars on their clothes," I said. "At one point, they were made to as a form of segregation. We're going to get to that later in the semester. But the ones in long black cloaks are Hasidic. That's just one branch of Judaism. The same way there are a lot of branches of Christianity, there are a lot of ways to practice Judaism, and that's just one small minority."

"Really? 'Cause I always see those guys talking about how the white man is the devil!"

"What? That's not a Jewish belief, for sure. No, I think you're talking about something else. Do you mean those guys you see standing around preaching in Times Square all the time?"

"Yeah," she laughed.

"Oh, God, no! Please don't make any assumptions about any mainstream religion from the nutcases out in Times Square. That has nothing to do with Judaism."

"Oh, okay."

The classroom cleared out. I felt like shooting myself. I think I need to spend half of the next class expelling stereotypes and discussing religious tolerance.

Is this New York City in 2005?

It was disgusting.

The Funeral Banquet

First of All:

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, NDN!!!!

Alright-- here's the first half of what I wrote out yesterday. Don't have time for the rest right now, as I'm running off to teach... (I know NDN will be disappointed because I still have to get to writing about his birthday party on Saturday, but I promise it's coming...)

-h

***********************
I've been in a strange mood all week long. A dark mood, I guess you could say. I can only describe it as a blend between anger, empowerment and gloom. It reminds me of the mood I used to get into when I would go for those long walks in college. I used to walk up into dangerous neighborhoods, my head down at my feet, watching them pound on the ground, staring at the sparkle in the pavement bathed in pink street-light. That's one more thing I love about New York at night--the sky. We don't really get any stars here (not that I don't like stars), but rather, the sky turns a bruised purplish-pink. I used to walk in the winter, stretching my fingers out into the cold until they turned purplish-pink as well. Then I would sharply inhale the frozen air as quickly as I could, hoping for a burn. Then, with nothing else to do, I would defeatedly return home.

Well, I abandoned that kind of adolescent morbidity years ago, but as of late, the feeling has been creeping up on me again. As much as I feel like I'm at a moment of renewal, I'm left with a sort of internal mourning. The loss of something in myself. It reminds me of that passage in A Rebours when Esseintes throws himself a funeral banquet to mourn the loss of his own virility.

In one instance in particular, modelling the entertainment on a banquet of the eighteenth century, he had organized a funeral feast in celebration of the most unmentionable of minor personal calamities. The dining-room was hung with black and looked out on a strangely metamorphosed garden, the walks being strewn with charcoal, the little basin in the middle of the lawn bordered with a rim of black basalt and filled with ink; and the ordinary shrubs superseded by cypresses and pines. The dinner itself was served on a black cloth, decorated with baskets of violets and scabiosae and illuminated by candelabra in which tall tapers flared.

While a concealed orchestra played funeral marches, the guests were waited on by naked negresses wearing shoes and stockings of cloth of silver besprinkled with tears.

The viands were served on black-bordered plates,--turtle soup, Russian black bread, ripe olives from Turkey, caviar, mule steaks, Frankfurt smoked sausages, game dished up in sauces coloured to resemble liquorice water and boot-blacking, truffles in jelly, chocolate-tinted creams, puddings, nectarines, fruit preserves, mulberries and cherries. The wines were drunk from dark-tinted glasses,--wines of the Limagne and Roussillon vintages, wines of Tenedos, the Val de Penas and Oporto. After the coffee and walnuts came other unusual beverages, kwas, porter and stout.

The invitations, which purported to be for a dinner in pious memory of the host's (temporarily) lost virility, were couched in the regulation phraseology of letters summoning relatives to attend the obsequies of a defunct kinsman.

I don't know... I just haven't felt very clear or present, although as of yesterday, some of that is starting to lift.

On Thursday (on my way to teach) I bumped into Sean Duffy in the street. He kissed me hello. I was startled. It was slightly unnerving to see him while in "Jekyll-mode."

Later that night, after class, I went to Cheers. I arrived at about 10:00 pm but all of the suits had been there since happy hour began and were slobbering drunk. FightingMensch and another regular, KHill, were among them. I don't see FightingMensch nearly as much as I used to--ever since his girlfriend from Chicago moved in with him back in April or May. KHill has been around a lot, though, and has been pretty friendly to me ever since I bought him shots on his birthday a few weeks back. (I love birthdays!). Often he's there with his girlfriend who's quite a nice girl. (I recently spent the evening cavorting with him, his girlfriend and her sister). Anyway, I'm not sure what he does for a living except that it has something to do with finance. He's an ex-frat boy type and likes to joke around with me, marveling that I'm always reading. (Sometimes on weeknights, I bring papers to grade or an article or two to read).

Anyway, on Thursday, he and FightingMensch were both really drunk. FightingMensch scares me a little when he's that drunk. He gets a glazed look in his eye and punctuates every sentence by punching the air, saying "Bang! Bang!" (We all know how prone he is to "fighting.")

Thursday night he approached me.

"Hey, Hyde. What's up?"

"Not much."

"So... Are you still seeing that guy that beats you?"

"What??? FightingMensch! Why would you say something like that?"

(It really bothered me that he said that. It jolted me. I guess it made me step back and take stock of things for a moment. The truth of the statement aside, is that how people think of me? Is that the impression that I give off?)

He stared at me blankly before launching into a story about how he pummeled a cow to death.

"That's disgusting," I muttered, trying to excuse myself from the conversation.

"Well, you know FightingMensch!" his friend Chris piped in. "He fucking wrestles wild boars in the wild!"

Wild boars in the wild...

Later on, a drunk KHill stopped over to talk to me.

"If I had a million dollars I'd impregnate you," he said.

What the fuck? This night was getting too weird...

"What?!?" I looked up at him incredulously. "I don't think that's such a good idea. And besides, I don't take money for that kind of thing."

I tried to smile at him to normalize the conversation, as he was clearly drunk, but I couldn't quite pull it off. I mean, how do you respond to a statement like that? Especially coming from a practical stranger!

"Man, you sound like a good time," he said. "You'd let me come inside, right?"

"What? What the fuck?"

"My girlfriend won't, but--" then he got distracted by something and walked away.

I wanted to get out of there. All of a sudden I felt like there was some kind of alarming spotlight flooding over my whole life--my whole lifestyle. I felt like Blanche DuBois with the paper lantern torn off the bulb. Who are these people? Why are they saying things like that to me?

Damn it, Hyde! When conversations start like that, it's time to go home, I told myself.

And go home, I did.

The next morning I woke up relatively early to meet B to ride the Beast. "The Beast" is a speed boat ride that zips around New York Harbor. It's a tradition that we do every summer. Last summer it didn't happen and it remained a sore point for me, as I'm the one who really gets excited about it. This year, we had a great time out on the water (as always). It totally revived me. Afterwards, we walked over to 10th Avenue to get something to eat. I felt really close to him that day. We had an intense conversation about a lot of different things, that I don't really care to go into here. (But by the way, he helped me come up with an answer to a question that I always get about the meaning of the tattoo on my arm--"the signifier is the signified," he told me to say. We laughed about that one for a while because he's such a literary theory dork!)

After the meal, he walked me to the bus stop and I kept complaining that my discman was broken. I'm addicted to being plugged in to music round the clock. I desperately need to soundtrack my life, and felt very depressed navigating the city without it. He offered to lend me his for the week. I absolutely loved him for it. It felt amazing to be taken care of like that. Then he went one step further and offered to buy me an iPod nano for my birthday/Christmas. I'm excited. And I felt valued. (Not that gifts are the only way to express affection, but still...) I'm grateful for him.

My voice lesson that afternoon was fairly unremarkable except for the fact that my jaw was so tight that it was difficult to feel my way through the upper register.

"Wow! Your jaw must have had a rough night last night!" my teacher exclaimed.

I laughed inside. People have been saying the strangest things to me lately!

After the lesson I took a taxi back home--the infamous cab ride during which the driver asked me out. (And no, I'm not going to call him back). After that, I changed and headed to Penn Station to meet BigSis and Bro-in-Law to take the train out to JBC's birthday dinner.

JBC had arranged for dinner at a pretty fancy steakhouse. I have to say, it completely broke the bank for me. I'm only a poor student and was somewhat alarmed by a $10 Jack Daniels and $80 dinner! That said, the food was amazing. Bro-in-Law and I shared a massive Porterhouse. Yum! I haven't eaten that well in quite some time!

It was a nice group--three of JBC's best friends, the birthday boy himself, LilSis, BigSis, Bro-in-Law and myself. Of course, as LilSis and JBC just got engaged, there was non-stop talk of the wedding. They just booked a place and set the date for August, 2007. (I know... But in NY, when you're throwing a big party, you've got to get things done early!) I have a feeling that JBC is going to be more fussy as the groom than LilSis as the bride! He's big into fashion. It's cute. We gave him a Lacoste shirt for his birthday and BigSis picked up an issue of the new Men's Vogue for him, along with a NY wedding magazine.

After dinner, we stopped by at a local bar for a drink or two before BigSis and Bro-in-Law returned to the city and LilSis and JBC drove me back to my parents' house. My mom is redecorating, and when we arrived she was obsessing about the living room--just standing there staring at the setup for the longest time.

"Ah ha! I've got it!" she exclaimed, removing one small pillow from the couch. "That's better!"

She need affirmation/consultation on her new carpet and the TV unit, which I willingly gave. Then we sat around for a while talking about family politics. My mom's family owns a clothing business and there's some kind of stand-off about to take place between her and her cousin about loans and interest rates, or something boring like that. Oh! And I finally got my ring back. (Yay!)

The next morning my mom woke me up bright and early to go visit my stepbrother in the hospital. I hadn't seen him in a few weeks, and I have to say, he's made some major improvements. He's still only speaking a handful of words, but he was very interactive and speaking much more willingly than before. But I'll leave that, and the story of NDN's birthday party for later.

I do want to add, though, that the mood I was in when I started this post the other day is not the mood I'm in right now. I don't care if anyone believes me or not, because I know I've made this declaration a million times, but I don't think I'm going to drink as much anymore. Not because I should stop, but just because I don't feel like it right now. I'll consider NDN's party on Saturday night as "one last hurrah." I need to clean house. I'm really feeling the "New Year" right now and I'm ready to turn a page. I t's a strange feeling, but a good one. There are clouds clearing. I started this post feeling like I was at a funeral banquet.

Something did pass away, although I'm not sure what it was.

-h-

Blogger Sucks.

Okay, I absolutely hate blogger! I just typed out an ENORMOUS post and it's gone. I'm not sure that I have the heart to write it again... I've got too much else to do today...

-h-

The Prince

Mr. Rochester's life of decadence.

Tired

I'm so tired today.

Last night I went out with NDN and his friends for his birthday. It was a great time. (Again, I'll post more about that later). But I've been thinking a lot about this whole dating issue. I don't want to go on the date with the taxi driver. I've been feeling depressed all week, and I think it's because I'm fighting myself on the whole Narc thing. I keep yelling at myself in my head that I need to move on and see other people, when in reality, I don't want to. I left a drunken post last night, and have since taken it down, but I came to a realization about all of this last night. I don't want to fight myself. I don't want to force myself to do things that make me uncomfortable. That doesn't mean I should hang out with Narc or answer the phone when he gets back. I just think I need some space for myself without any boy-drama. I think I just need to let things be quiet. If I can't get over my feelings for Narc, fine. As long as I don't act on them. But I'm certainly not going to force myself into situations in which I feel like I'm not being true to myself.

So that's my resolution for the moment.

The Shining is on TV, so I'm going to go watch the ending.

I'm really tired.

A Taxi-Cab Date?

I am in such a different mood and a different place from when I left my last post. I was a little hyper then, and feeling full of life. I feel like my feet have since hit the ground, and I'm feeling much darker and hardened. I'm having the urge to chain smoke and put on too much eyeliner and listen to depressing music, so it's kind of hard for me to identify with the girl who drafted this post yesterday. That said, I promised the story about the taxi driver, so I'll try to deliver...

Friday afternoon I was on my way back from a voice lesson, having one of those typical frantic unorganized Hyde/New York moments, trying to hail a cab, while on the phone figuring out why a check bounced and balancing too many bags in my hand. The cab arrived; I pulled open the door, but when I sat down, I found myself face to face with an enormous grasshopper! I am so squeamish around insects. (Did I ever tell you guys that?) It's not really that I'm afraid of them, but I can't deal with them or be near them. They give me the creeps and make me feel like something is crawling on me--especially when I see those twitchy little antennae. (I know-- I'm not a nature girl) . So of course, I freaked out, acted all stupid and girly and leaped across the seat, while still on the phone, alerting the driver that something was up.

"There's a grasshopper in your car!" I exclaimed.

He got out of the car and came around to the back to see what the problem was. Laughing at me good naturedly, he swished the creature onto the sidewalk and we were off. I finished my "business" call, and with the ice broken by the grasshopper incident, he struck up a conversation with me.

I don't know why, but I was in a very chatty mood. He asked if I were a student, and we talked a bit about that. Then I told him that I was coming from a voice lesson and he asked me if I were a professional singer.

"Not quite," I said. "Well, I was just talking to my teacher about this very topic."

"What's that?"

"Lifestyle choices and stuff like that. To be a professional, I'd have to live my life a certain way. Getting eight hours of sleep, staying hydrated, avoiding caffeine and acidic foods, avoiding alcohol for sure, (not to mention a certain medicine that can give quite a burn as it drips down the back of your throat), keeping myself emotionally balanced and training every day. It's a personality thing. I haven't been able to devote myself to it in that way, and for that, I'm blocking myself from really making the kind of progress that I need to make. On top of that, I teach three lecture courses which is torture on the voice."

He asked to see my hand.

"Why?"

"Your palm--your left palm."

(We were driving through Central Park at this point).

He glanced at it and asked me if I loved the water.

"Why do you ask that?"

(I was pretty amazed. I'm obsessed with the water. I told you guys--I have a mermaid tatoo and a tattoo of two fish and I always say that I was a mermaid in my prior life).

"I do," I said. "I love it! What else do you see?"

"You must be a writer," he said. "And you write a lot? You have writer's hands."

"Well, you could say that..."

"Yes, your hand tells me that you are very creative. And you have a very sharp mind. Very smart."

"What else?"

"You are extrememly emotional. But also stubborn. Very stubborn. And you can change yourself to suit the environment--flexible in that way."

(Ah ha! That's my Jekyll to Hyde to Jekyll quality).

"You also like to be your own boss."

He went on describing all of that in more detail. Then he asked me for my sign.

"Sagittarius."

"A fire sign!"

"What about your boyfriend? What sign is he?"

"Well, I don't really have a boyfriend, but..."

"What's the situation?"

"Oh, nothing. It's just an on again off again mess that I'm wrapped up in."

I told him an incredibly truncated, edited and waterd down version of my relationship with Narc.

"What's his sign?"

"Taurus."

"An earth sign. He has a huge ego, right?"

"Yes!"

"He thinks he is smarter than everyone else?"

"He does! You don't know how many times he's told me that he's a 'genius!'"

"Earth is no good for you. He won't budge. I know you want to change things, but he is a rock--the ground. He will never move. He won't move an inch. Your passions are wasted. Fire is very passionate. And fire needs air, or more fire."

"What element is Scorpio?" I asked. (B is a Scorpio).

"Water. That's also no good for you."

"Why not?"

"Water puts out fire; Fire dehydrates water. It's a bad combination. Who was your boyfriend before that?" he asked.

"Leo," I said.

"Leo! Like me. That's another fire. It's good."

(Um, I didn't think the last Leo worked out so well, but whatever...)

"How was that chemistry?"

"Well, actually, not so good," I said. I briefly described the situation.

"Well, he must have been an American man," he said. "American men expect women to come to them. They don't know how to court them--how to win them over."

(This guy was Indian.)

It made me think of a recent conversation I had with Hammer about some guy she's been dating for the past two weeks.

"Well, I don't know," I said. "But I'll be sure to keep all of this in mind before jumping into my next relationship."

"Or you could just call me," he said. "And I could tell you if it's a match."

I laughed and said I would.

Anyway, we talked for while more about a lot of things. He was really easy to talk to and I was just going on and on. As we started to near my corner, he asked if he could call me sometime.

"I guess so."

"Well, when is a good time? What time do you go to bed?"

"Too late," I told him. "Between 2:00 and 4:00 am usually... I go out too often... too much drinking and too much drama."

"Well, I'd love to take you out sometime. Would you ever have dinner with me?"

"Sure, why not?"

When we got to my corner, we exchanged numbers and he refused to take payment for the ride. I don't know why I agreed to it. Maybe it's just that it was a sunny day, or that I felt like talking. As soon as I got up to my apartment, I started to have doubts about the whole thing.

Last night I headed out to Long Island for JBC's birthday dinner (I'll blog about all that later). By the time I got there, I was sure I had made a mistake. I can't go on a date. I just can't. The longer I sat with the whole thing, the more sure I am that I don't want to go. He left me a message on my cell phone this afternoon, just following up. I can't do it though. I'm sorry, but I'm still in love with Narc. I don't want to be, but I am. I don't know what I'm afraid of. I mean, what harm can one dinner do? It's just that I hate people paying for me and I hate getting compliments from people I don't know really well and I hate trying to be charming while making appropriate chit chat. I just feel like the whole thing is phony. Am I just constructing some kind of rationale to not go because I'm scared of it? I don't want to be with Narc anymore, but at the same time, I made a decision last November to be devoted to that, and I haven't been able to pull my heart out of it since. It's like he's been branded on me or something. I just dont' want anyone else.

Blah! I don't want to think about this all right now or get into it right now. I'm only posting because I said I would finish this story. I've got to get some work done, so I'll update on the rest of the weekend later...

-h-

Theme and Variations

Okay, so this week I already blogged about getting my palm read and having a strange conversation with a taxi driver. Well guess what? I just had my palm read and had a strange conversation with a taxi driver!

I also ended up getting a free cab ride (that would have cost $15.00), a lot of astrological love advice, and a possible date.

(I told you guys--the taxi drivers love me!)

So, we'll see...

I can't write up the whole story right now because I have to go spruce up before meeting BigSis and Bro-in-Law at the train station. JBC is hosting a birthday dinner tonight out on Long Island and then I'm staying over my mom's house so I can see my brother in the morning. The bottom line-- you won't get this story out of me until some point tomorrow afternoon or evening.

I hope the anticipation heightens the reading experience when it's finally here.

lol!

Hyde

PS: Dan, I'll do those questions for you. I just need a little time to think up the answers...

The Answers!

Okay, here we go...
____________________

Flash:

1. You've helped me integrate new words into my vocabulary like "chuffed" and "twat." Oh--and you seem like a great dad!

2. Anything Depeche Mode

3. I'm with you on skipping the jelly, but can we replace the vodka with Jack Daniels? Wait-- Do they even sell that at Tesco's?

4. Now you know the bases--1st, 2nd and 3rd!

5. You were my very first commenter (aside from friends I already knew). One January afternoon I blogged about Narc being a dick to me (no surprise there!). You liked the bit where I left him in the cold by turning off the heater. Later that week you asked me which "lame British band" he was listening to while drunk-dancing around his apartment. I used it as an excuse to call him back--thus breaking the fourth wall in blogland!

6. Zebra--gentle but with a wild streak. And of course the black and white stripes--Nik/Flash. (Kind of like Jekyll/Hyde, right?)

7. About those 10 rules from April, 2004-- Do you think you've done a good job with that? How would you assess yourself? Oh, and do you think we'll ever get a chance to party together?

____________________

Charby:

1. You think vultures are cute. That still blows my mind!

2. Wuthering Heights! (It's weird... I thought this up last night and we have the same answers for eachother for this question and the next!) I first loved this book on my own, and then it sort of became a thing for me and Narc. But when I read about you fantasizing about running throught he moors, I felt a soul-connection to you.

3. Strawberry!

4. So? Am I invited to the tea party or not?

5. First I only knew you through Flash and Sunshine's blogs. You appeared as a commenter on the Annals in early April when you told me to take out my Narc-shit "on a punching bag." In May you were jealous of all the spanky sailors here in Manhattan; and by June, you became my virulent defender. I've got nothing to fear with you to beat up all the boys for me!

6. Unicorn--strong and sweet with a touch of fantasy!

7. What are you going to do next with your life? The sky's the limit, and I'm really curious where you'll be off to!
____________________

Spinsterwitch:

1. You don't like going to bars alone. (I seriously have to help you with that one!)

2. Green Day or the White Stripes

3. Huckleberry

4. Wanna meet me for pancakes or crabcakes at Eastern Market?

5. I checked out your blog before I became a commenter. I remember listening to your Fourth of July audiopost in which firecrakers were being set off on the street corner. Later that week you appeared on the Annals advising me to never drunk-dial. (Easier said than done!)

6. Wolf-- You remind me of moonstone (which I love) and the moon, so that brought the wolf connection...

7. Why did you start blogging to begin with? If I asked you why you blog now and what you get out of it, would your answer be the same?
____________________

Sunshine:

1. I think it's cute how much you love ice cream!

2. Alanis--Everything. It's around the time I realized we are sort of soul-mates when it comes to boys.

3. Grape

4. Any more tips on the emotionless sex thing?

5. I was first "aware" of you through Flash's blog. (I started reading his blog around the time of his "Open letter," and I have to say-- I was a little confused) Then you thanked me for commenting on your site on February 7th, and by the 15th you already declared we were sisters!

6. Dog-- you are sweet and an absolutely incredibly loyal friend. I'm lucky to have you in my life. :)

7. When are we going to hang out again? (And can you teach me to be as strong as you are?)

____________________

Ryan: (And I hope you're impressed!)

1. You made me laugh when that creepy guy took pictures of you playing tennis.

2. Elvis--In the Ghetto. I'm a huge Elvis fan and was happy when I saw this on your list!

3. blackberry

4. I'm waiting for you to dialogue your life.

5. You left me a comment in the end of May--impressed by my template and the length of my posts. It prompted me to check out your site. (Although I have to say, if you're not willing to put up with long posts, you probably won't survive the Annals of Mr. Hyde!)

6. Rooster-- you exude total confidence.

7. You are a talented artist and take beautiful photos. What do you do for a living?

____________________

Problem....

When I click on the comments link for my last post, the comments don't show up! Is anyone else having that problem?

Thanks, Flash!

Well I have to thank Flash for his lovely answers about me to the following questions.

And I now in turn, offer them to you.

Leave your name and:

1.) I'll respond with something random about you.
2.) I'll tell you what song/movie reminds me of you.
3.) I'll pick a flavor of jelly to wrestle with you in.
4.) I'll say something that only makes sense to you and me.
5.) I'll tell you my first/clearest memory of you.
6.) I'll tell you what animal you remind me of.
7.) I'll ask you something that I've always wondered about you.

If I do this for you, you must post this on your journal. You MUST. It is written.

And if you care to know, here is what Flash had to say about me:
(Although if you don't already read his blog, you should go read about this over there. It's a good blog. Very entertaining. I promise!)

Hyde
1. I love your use of the word "Medicine"
2. Anything operatic
3. Screw the jelly, let's wrestle in a vat of vodka & drugs!
4. You were the first, twice.
5. Oooh, hello , who's this? They've checked out my rules from last April, wow!
6. A hummingbird
7. How on earth do you afford your life-style?

:)

-h-

PS: If you are a friend of mine but you don't have a blog, don't worry, I'll answer them for you too...

My Very Bizarre Dream...

And now for last night's very strange mish-moshed dream...
Anyone care to analyze?

I was at some kind of Planetarium/Space Center and I saw Narc there. We were both there as part of some sort of American-Idol-like karaoke competition. In my dream, we hadn't spoken in months and kind of pretended not to see each other, but I felt a lot of sadness and pain about it and he obviously looked tense and awkward too. (But he didn't look sad. It was just Narc-style coldness. Hard to explain if you've never met him.)

There were hundreds of people there divided into two main groups and then into smaller sub-groups for the competition. Narc and I ended up in the same group, but still pretended not to know each other. He went first for the karaoke thing, and he was really good. (He sang some old swing song or something. Not sure what it was). The way it was set up was that you didn't get to choose your song and they didn't give you the words. They just played the music and you had to know it and you only got a few minutes to go up to the mic to sing. The girl ahead of me didn't know the song she got and she started crying and freaking out, so I ran up to save her and told her she could have my place in line and I'd take that song. The problem was that it was in a really bad key for me and my voice kept cracking. I was really stressed out about it in the dream. It was a song that required belting out notes that are clearly only in my "head-range." Anyway, I was totally humiliated and was sure that Narc would think I was an untalented loser.

Later, our whole half of the contestants were waiting in an auditorium for some sort of verdict on something. We had assigned seats, and incidentally, I was seated next to Narc. We still weren't talking though.

Things get even stranger here. For some reason, I started singing "O Holy Night," (or the Cantique de Noel) in French. I was just singing it beautifully and my voice was soaring and it was so easy. All of the hundreds of people around me started forming a choral harmony underneath it. Don't ask me how my solo melody was heard over these hundreds, but it was. And the sopranos were all adding a descant at certain parts. It was a magical beautiful fulfilling musical experience in my dream. And Narc had a softer expression on his face and smiled at me. It was almost as if we had "made up" after everything. We still didn't talk though.

Some time in all of this, I bumped into JFig in a hallway at the Space Center. She was really angry at me, but I apologized (I don't know what for) and she accepted.

Then the next thing I remember, I was at an office. I worked at some cubicle but I had my own closed door to the office. My boss, or someone came by and told me to "leave the door open" and that I should value "transparency." (I remembered that book Apartment Stories by Sharon Marcus about 19th century housing in Paris and London that said that the French valued "transparency.") Anyway, the boss told me that the police were coming in to comb my computer for pornography. It made me nervous and I asked why they had to come. My boss told me that JFig used to have my office and use my computer and that she had stolen thousands of dollars from the company spending it on pornography. I was worried because in my dream, I had recently visited an internet-porn site recommended to me by NDN.

I protested that JFig hadn't worked there for at least two and a half years, so they agreed to go look at her current workplace instead. I called her on the phone to warn her. The secretary that answered was at first hostile, but then became friendly and said "Oh! I see she has unblocked your number as of this morning."

Then I don't remember much.

At some point after that, I was in a high school--the one that my cousins attended in a town neighboring mine. I bumped into two of my cousins there. They had just been talking about me and I snuck up and surprised them and they laughed. They were both happy to see me and the older boy reminded me that I had "partied hard" at the recent Bar Miztvah. He asked about NDN and said that he was disappointed he didn't get a chance to meet NDN. I think NDN was somewhere in the school, but I couldn't find him at that moment. My cousin told me not to worry that he was moving into my building soon. I told him I had to run because I was going to go teach a Phys Ed class. (If you know me, and my hatred of P.E., you'll know how ridiculous this is). Anyway, he asked how I knew how to teach the class. I told him it was a lot of lecturing and writing on the board. I said that I was going to teach about baseball, but I was nervous the students would be able to tell that I don't even know how to play the game. My cousin and his friends laughed and I was off.

At some point, after the school day, I went outside to wait for the bus. Narc was also there at the bus stop. The bus wasn't really a bus though--it was a huge glass bubble, similar to what we had seen at the Space Center. For some reason, I knew that Narc had a childhood trauma related to being on one of those glass bubble buses and I was worried about him. We weren't really talking, but I asked him if he were okay or if it upset him too much because of his past trauma. (It reminded me of that day in July when we went to see a movie which I knew was about a really sensitive issue for him and he busted out of the theater without talking about it when it was over. I wrote about that here). He told me that normally the crystal ball/bus would upset him, but after what he had been through at the Space Center that afternoon, his eyes had been "opened." (I'm not sure what he meant by that).

Then things got sappy. He said that he knows how sad I've been because he's been sad too with all this time apart. I don't remember how the dream ended, but there was some sort of reconciliation/happy ending and I felt like this whole mess and all of the pain was worth it because look how great it all turned out.

The dream went on for a while, I think, but I woke up. I wrote down as much as I could remember right away because it was still with me, but even now, writing this post, I don't remember it anymore--I only have a vague idea and the words I scribbled down this morning to go on.

Anyway, don't get the wrong idea. I'm not really thinking such an ending is possible in real life, or even hoping for it. This was, after all, just a dream. But it's rare that I remember so much of a dream that's non-recurring, so I thought I'd elicit your thoughts...

-h

Taxi-Talk

What an odd morning it has been. I had a very strange dream last night. It was probably a series of dreams all smashed together, but I woke up with it still lingering all around me. Maybe I'll post about that in a few minutes...

First I want to tell you about my trip to work. I spent my last few dollars taking a cab to get here. As usual, I was running late, and this morning I had to photocopy study sheets for my students. Despite my recent efforts to limit my spending, there were no other options to get me here in under 40 minutes.

I frequently attract attention from cab-drivers, although I'm not sure why. I'd say that about 70% of the time that I'm travelling alone, the driver will strike up a conversation with me. Sometimes it's to hit on me, but more often it's just to make conversation. I had an odd chat with my cab driver this morning--an older man who turned out to be quite a character!

___________________

It started off when he announced to me that he was a Marine. Very proud of the fact, he was still wearing his tags.

"We have a birthday coming up on November 10th," he said.

"Well, Happy Birthday," I replied.

"Not my birthday! The Marine's birthday!"

He asked me what I did for a living. I told him that I studied and taught history.

"Did you know that the Marines are actually older than the country itself?" he asked.

"Really?"

"Yep. The Marines were founded in 1775!"

"Wow..."

I was trying to read through some papers, but finally decided it was futile. This guy really wanted to talk.

"How long were you in the Marines for?"

"Three years. And I'm lucky I didn't get killed!"

"When was that?"

"Do you remember the Gulf of Tonkin? I was just dropped in there with a bunch of other guys. It was hell. Very unpopular war. A lot like this one. Do you remember that? Nah! Probably not. You were probably just a little girl then..."

"Um, I don't think I was born yet."

A little girl then? That happened in 1964. My mother was only 18 then! How old do I look??? Anyway, the cab-driver asked me where I grew up.

"Long Island."

"Hey! I live out there. Do you know Kitchen Cabaret?"

"Sure..."

"I was just there. We got pulled over for speeding that day. It was embarassing. I mean, everyone knows a Marine doesn't get a ticket, but to get pulled over..."

He went on to tell me about a great steak sandwich he ate there last week.

"Speaking of steak," he said, "PJ Clark's--the steakhouse right near where I picked you up? Half owned by Steinbrenner of the Yankees and half owned by a Marine. Steinbrenner lets all of us in uniform into Yankee Stadium for free. You can eat and drink as much as you want for free too. They don't tell you that, though."

"Yeah, I've never heard that..."

"I used to live in the city, too," he went on, "Down on Sullivan Street. Do you know why it's called Sullivan Street?"

"No. Why?"

"Named for Washington's generals. They all are--Macdougal, Sullivan, Thompson, Wooster, Greene, Mercer..."

"Wow. I never knew that."

"Yeah, when I lived there I was thinking about it and it was funny. I just wanted to know, so I looked it up in the city's municipal archives. And the arch in Washington Square Park? The old wooden one is still inside the new one!"

"Really?"

I find that hard to believe.

"I used to live down there back when it was ruled by the Genovese crime family! The old Italian days! Yeah... I used to give them a hard time, alright. 'Why isn't it called 'Russo' or 'Caruso' Street,' I would ask. How's that? Are you guys ruled by the Irish?"

I laughed.

"Yeah, they would ask if I was looking for trouble," he said. "But they knew I had the silver star, so they left me alone. They respected that."

Then somehow he got back on the topic of food.

"I can't believe you haven't been to PJ Clark's. Great steakhouse, right in your neighborhood! What about the Palm? Best Lobster in the entire world at the Palm! And I know lobster!"

"Yeah, my friend was just telling me how good the lobster is there," I said. (Indeed, NDN had been singing it's praises).

"They fly it in from Maine. So fresh. It's the best anywhere, and I've been around and tried a lot of lobster."

"Wow..."

"You know what the secret is?"

"No. What?"

"See, I had the chef from the Palm in my cab and he told me. Normally, before you drop a live lobster into boiling water, it freaks out--it tenses up. It knows what's coming. Not gonna stay tender that way, right? So what they do is they swish it around in some wine first... Nice dry white wine. They relax it-- keeps it tender. Then they drop it in the water, and then leave it for exactly four minutes. Exactly four. Gotta time it."

"Alcohol and lobsters? So there's some lobster psychology involved?"

He didn't answer that. He just kept going on.

"You wanna know what else is great in your neighborhood? The Oyster Bar at Grand Central. They've got the best muscles. I got a linguine dish there once --sea scallops, clams, muscles. The freshest!"

"Those places are kind of pricey for me, I guess."

"It doesn't have to be so expensive if you go for lunch."

"Or the UN! Have you tried the UN?"

This guy was on a role.

"Where can you eat at the UN? Isn't it closed to the public?"

"Nah! There's one place open--this place called the Delegates Lounge. It's open to the public and what they do is they pick a country--they do eight countries a year."

"And?"

"Well, they have a buffet--all the dishes from that country. It's a real feast. It's like they want to entice you to go there. I went to Italy-day. From 12:30 to 5:00 we ate everything and it only cost $19.00! From all the different regions, you know? I tried to go on France-day, but it was mobbed."

(I looked this up online, and can't figure out what he's talking about. As far as I know, there are no restaurants open to the public. Maybe he went a really long time ago).

"C'mon, kid! You really gotta get out more in your own neighborhood!"

Anyway, then he started going off on the French, complaining that they weren't grateful enough that we lost 60,000 men there in World War II. I had no answer for that. I mean, what's there to say to someone who talks that way? And then he started grumbling about the traffic, calling one driver a "meshugganah" (which is basically Yiddish for "crazy") and then yelled at another driver "vaffanculo" (which as far as I know is Italian for "go fuck yourself.") I have no idea what his ethnicity is, but this man was proving himself to be a consummate New Yorker.

By the time we got to the school where I teach, he was sorry to see me go. He told me to have a "beautiful day" and "God bless."

"Would that there were more nice young ladies in the world, like you," he said. "We'd all be saved a hell of a lotta problems!"

Um, yeah...right. I thanked him and paid and was on my way.
___________________________

So that's my story. All in all, it was an interesting way to start the day...

Jane Morris

I like this picture. I've had it saved on my computer for a long time.

(I know, I know... Still procrastinating).

_______________________________________________________

PS: I think that's a record for me-- five posts in one day! Has this become yet another addiction? Is blogger replacing Narc in my life? Two weeks without sex and I'm overflowing with mindless energy.

Help!!!

Palmistry

NDN and I just took a quick break to go have our palms read. (Although the reader kept it pretty brief. I'm wondering if Mr. Mystic could have done a better job!)

Anyway, here's what she said about me:

1.) I'm above all an honest person with a good heart

2.) I have many obstacles in my life right now which don't have to stay major obstacles, but I need to address them now before it's too late. She told me that this includes my present romantic relationships and that I need to do "what is right."

3.) She told me that I will have career successes over the next year.

4.) I will get married, but not within the next five years. I'll have two kids-- a girl and a boy.

5.) She sees a "change in residence." (As far as I can project, she's off on that one, unless she is referring to my sister (I did sit in a new apartment all day today) or perhaps I'll be moving offices or something).

6.) I will live to be 77. (Not bad, considering the hard living that goes on around here!)

7.) She said that I was blessed with many natural gifts from God but that there have been people in my life who have consistently clouded things with negative energy.

That's as much as I can remember right now. Okay. Gotta get back to my paper...

-h-

Pictures! (but they're kind of boring)

This is a picture I took on the bus when I was bored. It reminds me of NY.










I doubt anyone knows this much about NY, but I'll tell you this--I was on the M104. Can anyone figure out where this was taken? There will be a prize involved if you can.





This is a picture taken near my apartment with all of the cops outside (there, of course, for the UN General Assembly). Note the concrete blocks and metal barricades and the little police booth they set up for the occasion.

Good News for Blogging!

Yay! I arrived here at BigSis and Bro-in-Law's apartment about 40 minutes ago, and I just plugged in my laptop and realized there's free wireless internet! Hooray! My boredom has been alleviated by my ability to obsessively blog all afternoon, should I so deisre.

That said, here's a weird blogging coincidence. A while back I went to look on the NYC bloggers website where you can find fellow bloggers in your area by subway station. Anyway, I started reading a blog every now and then called Bridget Unnel, Girl but haven't been over there for a few weeks. This time around, I recognized one of her commenters as one of Flash's frequent commenters--none other than Adamant! I guess the point is--it's a small blog world after all.

I'd also like to mention that my early morning drunkeness has completely worn off. (Thank God!) That said, as I was stumbling towards the subway this morning, some guy kept staring at me--no, not in a creepy way, and no, not in a "sexy" way; but rather, it was in a "do I know you from somewhere?" way. So I stared back and smiled and he eventually approached me.

"Didn't you go to Columbia?" he asked, tentatively.

"Um, yeah..."

"Hyde?"

"Yeah..."

"Martin!"

"Oh! Hey! How are you?"

Now I'm not sure exactly how I know him, but as soon as he said his name, I know that I knew him back then. I think he was friends with B or something. Or was it Contessa? I know that he majored in English Lit and that he was teaching the last I heard of him. He used to be a skinny awkward thing but doesn't look that way at all anymore.

"So what are you up to these days?" I asked.

"Working at Deutsches Bank," he said, gesturing to his tie.

He seemed kind of embarassed about that.

"And you?"

"Ever the student," I replied. "Working on my PhD and teaching undergrad as I go."

"Wow... That's great."

Our banter went on like that for a little while.

"So where are you off to now?" he asked. (Keep in mind, I was in sweats and a ratty T-shirt. I certainly didn't bother sprucing up to go sit in an empty apartment.)

"Well, today is a day off for me," I said.

"A day off? I wonder what that's like!"

I felt sad when he said that. He looked a lot older than I remembered him--not at all like a gangly intellectual boy anymore, but all filled out like a man, and in a stiff suit and tie. It was strange. He said that he lived right in the area, so I told him that I'm always at Cheers and that he should stop by sometime. I wonder if he could tell that I was drunk. Believe it or not, I was a bit of a rascal back in college too, so I'm sure that even if he could tell, he wasn't too surprised.

Anyway, that's it for now. Expect a few more entries out of me today, as I'm too tired to do school work right now, but sort of bored out of my mind. (And you all know how much I love to write!)

As an aside-- I'm going to try to count the times that I think of Narc today (for longer than a fleeting thought--long enough to check myself and realize I'm doing it). He's still in Greece. Heading to Venice tomorrow. A documentation of my obsessiveness. So far, I'm up to 3.

later...

-h

Will I Ever Learn?

Okay, so I'm a nice sister.

I agreed to do BigSis and Bro-in-Law a huge favor. I don't have to teach today which means I would have been able to sleep in until a more humane hour, but here's the rub-- they're moving out to Queens and are expecting some appliance deliveries today. Neither of them can be home, as they both have to be at work, so I agreed to go sit in their new apartment (which has no furniture or any conveniences!) to receive the deliveries. Last night on my way home (at about 9:30 pm) I stopped by at BigSis' current apartment and she gave me the keys, money for tips, etc. She also told me I had to be there at 8:30 am. That means that I woke up this morning at 6:30 am. Schisse!

Now, nevermind the fact that I had a 13 hour day yesterday running on 5 hours of sleep from Monday night; and nevermind the fact that I ate half a salad for lunch, and only followed that by feasting on microwave popcorn when I got him at 10:00 pm.

I also drank a bottle of wine. And then, dear readers, I drank another.

No, I didn't go out to Cheers. I drank the wine while hanging out with NDN in my living room and then (by myself) in bed, mostly conversing with Hammer (who is busy making life drama with one too many boys) and Bezoukhoff (who I'm sure has some strange ideas about me at this point), but I drank it.

It's now nearly 7:00 am and I'm still drunk.
AND I'm about to embark on an hour long journey.
AND I hate the subway and have to ride it.

And THAT is why I'll never learn.

This fucking sucks.

-h-

NDN Has No Shame!

(First of all, I'm sure you're loving it, NDN, that I named a post after you. That's right, you little attention whore! Revel in the glory!)

That said, the man has no shame. He sent the following email to my mother this morning and copied it to me...


Hyde'sMom,

I saw this joke, and thought, "wow, this is SO Hyde'sMom."

A guy says, "I remember the first time I used alcohol as a substitute for women."

"Yeah what happened?" asked his friend.

The first guy replies, "Well, er, I got my penis stuck in the neck of the bottle."

Is nothing sacred anymore? NDN--I ask you that.

-h

A New Name

As some of you may know, Mr. Mystic has offered to rename some fellow bloggers based on the personalities shown on their sites. I asked him to come up with a name for me (nervous about the results) and here's what he said.

What do you think?

"Ok Hyde here goes. Anbery this is a mixture of Angelica and Beryl. Intuitive, amiable, seductive. Given to day-dreaming and mystic imaginings. Can be deeply passionate, Sometimes hasty in her words and love affairs often unfortunate..."

-h

An Addendum:

So Flash has named me too! He writes:

Oh my, her ring has been lost & then found again (hurrah) & she's pondering " Why are there so many crazy people in this city? Why haven't I met anyone who's not fucked up in one way or another?". She does go on to say..."and I'm not exempting myself from this indictment".See, WritesSoMuchItHurtsMyBrainButIWouldn'tHaveItAnyOtherWay lives in New York City.

Yay! I'm glad he doesn't mind my prolific nature. I can't help it. So It's good he wouldn't have it any other way!

-h-

and Found!

Maybe it was SpinsterWitch's wise advice, but the ring has been located! I traced my steps over and over in my head until I remembered taking the ring off while I was dressing so my stockings wouldn't snag. I called my mom and directed her to look near the magazine rack in her bathroom, and indeed--the ring was there!

In other news, VJ just forwarded me another entertaining e-mail from E-the-R.
He writes:

Hello VJ-

I just emailed Hyde and asked her if she had access to certain drugs. I remember she told you a lot of lies regarding that I was a coke addict. I want to reassure you that they were lies (I know she will email you telling you what a coke junkie I am), but I need the drugs for certain "business" ventures. Let me put it this way: My clients are very interesting.

Again, hope you are well.

Love ya.

E-the-R

That guy is fucking crazy. I never told VJ that he was a coke addict! Never, never, never! He is just so used to painting me as a "liar" because that was how he dealt with that fucked up VJ-Liu triangle that he set up all those years ago-- by blaming me for making the whole thing up. I guess he sent this e-mail to VJ as "insurance" in case I told her about the drug-request message he sent me. Whatever... It's not worth any more mental space on my part. As far as I'm concerned, I'm not going to do him any favors. He burned that bridge long ago.

Why are there so many crazy people in this city? Why haven't I met anyone who's not fucked up in one way or another? I mean, E-the-R and Narc are both sort of extreme examples, and I'm not exempting myself from this indictment, but it's frustrating...

That said, I'm off to therapy now. My therapist is finally back from her summer in Switzerland so this is our first "in person" meeting since before my personal crisis back in June. Weird...

Then I'm off to do more reading for class.

Later!

-h

Lost!

I've lost one of my most prized posessions! A Georgian mourning ring that I was wearing on Saturday. The last time I remember seeing it was when I was in my mom's car and I showed it NDN. I've looked everywhere, and I have my mom looking everywhere too. I am desperately sad about it. It looked something like the ring pictured here. Only mind was longer and more rectangular and in better condition (I think), except that it was missing one pearl. It also had beautiful gold scroll work on the sides instead of the extra pearls. And engraved on the inside it read "Forget me not."

Everyone I know thinks it's creepy that I was walking around with a dead person's hair inside a ring on my finger, but I don't think so at all. I think it was magical, in some strange way, that I had that connection to someone in the past.

I bought the ring when I was in London and spent a lot of money on it. I know a bit about jewelry and jewelry history, and so I knew I was buying a quality piece. It's one of the few pieces of "real" jewelry that I own. Or owned. And it is the only one that I bought for myself. Everything else I have was given to me as a gift.

I am so sad that it is gone.

I hope it turns up.

I think I'll go lay in bed and be depressed now.

-h

Catching Up

I feel like I have a lot to catch up on in this blog...

This entire week the weather has been insufferably muggy until today when we finally caught a break from the humidity. Not that it has made a difference to me... I've been home all day reading articles. I also had a very strange urge come over me today--the urge to clean! Those of you who have actually been in my apartment know that housekeeping is not one of my many skills. In fact, I'm pretty much a "homewrecker" in the most literal sense of the word. To put it simply--my apartment is the epitome of chaos. But, as luck would have it, today I got the urge to clean. I moved my bed, pulled out my nightstand and have literally been crawling around on my hands and knees for the past hour sweeping the dust and scrubbing the floor. Getting this house in order is such a monumental task that it will take weeks of consistent work, but you have to start somewhere, right? And somehow it felt symbolic to sweep under the bed.

Anyway, I haven't really posted a nice long post in a few days. It's mostly because I've been running around with a crazy schedule. Thursday was an utterly exhausting day for me. The subway ride to work was a hellish test of my endurance for heat and other people. (I have a low tolerance for both). In between teaching classes I finished up a paper and then went to my own class to hand it in at 4:00. I waited for the crosstown bus back to the West Side to teach my evening class, but as it was rush hour and midtown on the East Side is still jammed up from the UN traffic, it took over half an hour for the right bus to come. I was in a very agitated mood!

While I was on the bus, my phone rang. It was Anxious and she was in tears. That immediately softened me, and I asked her what was wrong., She told me that she had just bumped into "Scotland," the guy she dated for several months last year after ending her 8-year relationship with Buke. She broke up with Scotland in February--the day she met me and Narc at Manchester. (I wrote about that here). Anyway, she just bumped into Scotland on the street and tried to smooth things over with him. She asked him if he wanted to get together for coffee sometime, as "friends," of course. He flat out told her "no."

Now, you have to understand something about Anxious--she is a control freak. She also insists that she is always happy. It's a very strange way to cope with things, in my opinion. For example, she didn't break up with Buke until she already had the next guy in the wings. Once, she made a major life decision to move two hours away, quit her job and take a job at a newspaper, but she didn't mention it to (or discuss it with) a single friend until every detail of the move was set up. She doesn't want to be caught at any moment not in complete control. But Scotland totally rejected her and left her without a boyfriend (which I guess, to her, is an intolerable condition), and there was nothing she could do about it. I think the "control" thing is why she's so insanely sensitive about the issue. I also think it's why she snatched up BulgarianGuy--the first guy she managed to hook up with after Scotland. (I wrote about the night she met BulgarianGuy here). Anyway, I did my best to calm her down.

"Why does it still hurt, Hyde?" she cried. "Why do I still feel pain about this?"

"Because, Anxious! Some things that are left unresolved never stop hurting, and seeing him just reopened that wound. You're just a sensitive girl. It's okay. Pain is a part of life, you know?"

Honestly, it astounds me that she manages to live her life in such massive denial of life's pains. So much so that she hardly ever feels them! Sadness and rejection was an unfamiliar feeling to her! She lives a white-knuckled life. I somehow felt much wiser than she throughout the conversation, even though I had no answers. The only thing I could tell her is that life and pain are inextricably bound together in the same way that life and joy are. We have very little "control" over either. Now, I know that I'm certainly not the model for good coping skills, but at least I acknowledge my feelings!

I had to cut our conversation short, though, because I had to teach class. And, I was still cranky because I hadn't eaten anything all day--I skipped lunch in order to work on that paper that was due at 4:00 and I skipped dinner because I got stuck in traffic on the bus. I made it through the class okay anyway...

When I got home, I sat down to check my e-mail, the blogs, etc. and I saw that Charby was online. She was up being an insomniac! Poor Charby! The two of us IM'd for about an hour, which was really quite nice. It's always a strange feeling when a fellow blogger comes off the page and has a "live" dialogue with you.

At around 10:30, NDN came by. I agreed to go out for drinks, but he wanted someplace quieter than Cheers on a karaoke night. So we headed to FuBar. Thus began our night of "drinking in reverse." Usually it's a Cheers-Manchester-FuBar progression. This time, we did an inversion.

On our way into the bar, some guy grabbed my arm.

"I remember you!" he exclaimed. He was clearly drunk. "I remember that face. I can't forget that face!"

I had no fucking clue who this guy was.

"Don't you remember me?" he went on. "C'mon... Do you remember where you met me?"

At that point, NDN decided to run to the restroom. He thought it was okay to leave me because I was standing near the bouncer, but I later admonished him that it was in fact, a bad move on his part. I told him never to leave a girl-friend alone in a bar with a drunk guy to whom she doesn't wish to speak.

I didn't remember where I had met the guy, but I could make an educated guess. (As I'm sure you all can too, at this point).

"Was it at Cheers?" I ventured.

"Yes! That's right! You do remember me!"

I smiled and kind of pulled away. I took two seats at the bar and NDN returned to order us drinks before going to get some popcorn. (FuBar gives away free popcorn). The guy, Paul, took a seat on the other side of NDN's chair. He kept trying to talk to me. He asked for my phone number.

"I don't think that's such a good idea," I said.

"Why not?" he asked. "Do you have a boyfriend? A girlfriend?"

"Well, no... I don't know. It's sort of complicated," I answered.

Why can't I answer such a simple question? The answer should be "no." But I really do feel like my heart is occupied right now.

"Well, if you give me your number, I promise you-- we'll start as friends," he tried to assure me. "I'll call you in exactly three days. I keep my word. Friends to start, okay?"

This guy was freaking me out.

"I don't think so," I said.

He continued to press me.

"I'll let you know when I finish my drink, okay?" I tried to turn away.

Just then, NDN returned with the popcorn (which I have to say, he made inedible by pouring hot sauce all over it! He went back to get me a fresh batch.)

Paul said he works for the UN. He stuck around for a while longer trying to make small talk by telling us some bullshit about being out with his drunk boss. Whatever... Eventually he took off, and thankfully I didn't even have to give him a fake number.

NDN and I moved to the back of the bar and just had a good long chat about a lot of things including relationships and addiction. Soon enough we headed to Manchester. He was intent on drinking a bloody mary and FuBar wasn't serving them.

At Manchester, Sean Duffy was on duty. I wanted to impress him with my relative sobriety. (I think he has the most awful impression of me.) Anyway, I went up to the bar to order us drinks and a few guys at the end of the bar started talking to me.

"Just bring the drinks back here, honey!" NDN called out.

I went over to him.

"Why are you calling me honey?" I demanded.

"Because! How do those guys know we're not together? It's emasculating!"

"I can't believe you've found a way to cock block me!" I laughed.

(Oc has claimed in the past that NDN is all about the cock block.)

Anyway, we had fun at Manchester, but NDN was wasted by the time we left. Onwards to Cheers! NDN didn't stay long at Cheers, as he was too drunk to have much fun. (He was majorly hurting the next day.) I stayed and drank and drank some more. I still hadn't eaten anything all day, so who the fuck knows what I was running on. Cheers closed around 3:30 am and I went across the street to the deli for a sandwich. Then I came home and passed out.

The next morning it was again, as muggy as hell. I spent the last few dollars in my wallet on red bull, only to realize that my entire bank account is empty until my most recent paycheck clears. Shit! I headed uptown to a voice lesson which I survived okay, given my frazzled state, and then I took the bus back home. The bus took FOREVER and I was in a strange mood. I had my camera in my bag, so I just started taking pictures on the bus, which I think people thought was strange. Whatever. The bus wouldn't' t take me all the way home though. Instead, I had to get off at Lexington. Again--the UN street closures!

After that, I managed to dig up enough loose change in my purse to buy a bottle of water. (I was majorly dehydrated.) On the way back into my building, I bumped into IrishBird outside on the corner.

"Hey! What's up!" I called out to her.

"How you feeling today, Hyde?"

"Okay... Why?"

"You were gone last night, that's all. I saw you in the deli getting your sandwich and you kept asking the guy over and over about how much it cost."

"That's because my bank account is empty," I said. "I was probably just making sure I had enough."

"Why is it empty?" she asked.

I explained that I was waiting to get my check cashed. She took out some money and offered it to me.

"IrishBird! I'm not going to take your money!"

"Just take it, Hyde."

She pushed it into my pocket. She is a good friend. It was really sweet.

After that I headed home, with very little time to make myself presentable for dinner with B's parents. I got all dolled up for the event, but walking to meet them in the intolerable heat, I felt like all my efforts went to waste by the time I arrived. (B assured me that wasn't the case). He wanted to go for Filipino food, although the only nearby Filipino place was a mediocre restaurant. We walked over there anyway. On the way, his parents ended up talking to each other while I talked to B. I tried to explain to him that he was going to have to facilitate conversation between all four of us and make a little effort to ease the awkwardness.

"Remember what it was like when you first met my family?" I asked. "You needed me to help you then, right?"

He agreed, but I have to say, he didn't go on to give me much help.

I was able to break the ice a bit when we got to the restaurant. It was a "turo-turo" style restaurant. (Which is basically a buffet, but someone else serves you). They asked me if I knew what that meant and I told them that I did.

"It means 'point-point,'" I said. "B is a very good teacher!"

Later when they were talking about dessert, his dad asked me if I knew "halo-halo."

"Of course!" I smiled. "It's mix-mix!"

At another point in the meal, his dad asked him in Tagalog to pass the "patis," a common condiment. I heard the word "patis," and knowing what it was, I passed it over. I think it impressed them that I was so interested in learning about their culture.

"All I have to do now, is come visit!" I said.

They laughed and agreed. B was glad I said that because now they'll have a hard time saying no if he ever wants to bring me over there in the future.

Still, it was hard to make conversation. I asked a lot about his brother and how he was settling in at Harvard. His dad said that he heard I was an Elvis fan and tried to make some small talk about that. Soon enough, the meal was over.

B led them to the subway and then he and I went for coffee at Dunkin' Donuts.

"They really liked you! I could tell," he assured me.

I still felt shy, although they had already gone.

B and I talked about all sorts of things--mainly love and relationships, which was kind of strange, given our complicated background. We talked about his commitment issues, and my "devotion" issues--we're at opposite ends of the spectrum, but it's a problem for both of us. He was encouraging me to try casually dating, but I just can't right now. I'm not ready for it yet. I mean, Narc called it a "non-relationship" and all, but my heart is the most slow moving frustrating thing sometimes. I just can't internalize all of that the way I'm supposed to. In any event, it was nice to be out with B on a Friday night. Usually when we hang out, it's just downtime at my place and always the same--Monday nights. This felt different. Like when we used to be "just friends." I mean we are "just friends," but it's been more than that ever since we went through our whole relationship.

(As an aside, I have to note that the formidable Mr. Rochester (my adorable cat) is driving me crazy right now. He keeps jumping up and grabbing at my arm with a wild look in his eye. I know he wants to play, but I'm so not in the mood).

After B and I parted, I took the bus back uptown, but again, ended up having to walk a few extra blocks due to the street closures. Back at home, I watched some TV and called it an early night.

On Saturday morning I got up at a decent hour, read some articles, gossiped with Hammer and watched TV. I got that weird e-mail from E-the-R, so I also ended up on the phone with VJ laughing about that for a while. But I had to get some work done before heading out to Long Island for the evening. My second cousin was being Bar Mitzvah-ed and I asked NDN to come with me as my date.

Now, as you know, LilSis and JBC just got engaged. They were coming to the city with my mom on Saturday afternoon to look at possible wedding venues. Their last stop was planned for South Street Seaport, so NDN and I agreed to meet them there. NDN went down a little early on his own, and I met him there at 3:00. (We didn't have to meet my family until 4:30).

When I got there, he was just chilling out by the water, writing in his journal and drinking Pina Coladas at "happy hour" prices. I joined him with some Malibu and diet (no sugar-crashy frozen drinks for me!) and we hung out for a while, laughing and having an all around good time.
Eventually we met up with my family and drove back to my mom's house where we all got changed for the party. NDN and I picked up BigSis and Bro-in-Law at his parents' house and we were off.

I have to say, I had a great time at the party. NDN was a perfect date. As he put it, he "cleaned up nice" and he was a real mensch--so easily conversant with everyone in my family--even distant cousins I hardly knew! And he was a fun partner on the dance floor. The food was excellent and abundant, so we stuffed ourselves. I drank, but it was so spaced out that I was still sober upon leaving. I think my mom was especially happy to see all of her cousins there (on her father's side) from far and wide. The whole event was tinged with sadness though, because the Bar Mitzvah boy's grandfather was my uncle that just died a few weeks ago.

Bro-in-Law dropped me and NDN off at the train station at around 1:00 am. Oc was hosting a party in Brooklyn that NDN had agreed to go to, but we figured that he wouldn't have gotten to the party until 3:00 am and NDN didn't want to leave me on the train alone at that hour. So we trekked back to our apartment building, making it home by 2:30. We were both wide awake, though, and I wanted to go back out.

Go back out, I did, and I headed to Cheers. It was probably unnecessary, but whatever. I'm a woman of excess. I drank for two more hours there, hanging out with ThursdayGirl and after closing time, with IrishBird for a bit. She told me that she and PumpedUp are taking off for Vegas, so she won't be working again until Thursday. I'm glad because I'm seeing B tomorrow (when BarMan's on shift) and then if IrishBird won't be there, that should keep me on the straight and narrow until Thursday or Friday.

This morning I got up pretty early (considering how late I was out) and had lunch with B. Then I came back home to do school work and to clean.

Anyway, I've got to go get something to eat and get back to work now.

Hope you all had a good weekend!

Hyde

Sweet! (on alcohol)

Fucking awesome night tonight!

4 :24 am and I'm just getting home. Normally I would be calling Narc right about now. No... Normally, that would have happened an hour ago. Normally, I'd be fucking Narc right now. Fuck. I'm not happy with how all of that went down and still have hopes to change it.

Anyway... Have to update this thing tomorrow. IrishBird and PumpedUp are taking off for Vegas together tomorrow. It's a secret though, so don't tell...

I'm a happy Hyde. I hate that alcohol makes me feel happy. Because of that, I almost wish I were never happy. (If it were due to alcohol, that is...). Narc also makes me happy. But he's not here. And he also makes me unhappy. So fucking miserably unhappy! He hurts me. But he also fills my heart. I feel like a stupid girl, but he confuses me. Is that bad? I miss him, and no matter how hard I try, I can't stop loving him. Oh well... Nothing else to do but to mourn... And to hope I don't still love him tomorrow...

Ok. Got to go wash off my pounds of makeup and get into bed. NDN was my date tonight to a black tie (optional) affair. My second cousin had his Bar Mitzvah. Good times.... Good times... I have to blog about all that later.

I love the people at Cheers. Fucking love them. IB, PumpedUp, BarMan, ThursdayGirl and I... We all chilled way beyond after hours. As for me and NDN--we had a great time at the Bar Mitzvah too. Will have to update on all...

Later...

-hydey-

Shenandoah

I'm just playing around and seeing if I can figure out how to post music. I got some files saved off my hard drive (the one that crashed in July) and there are a few recordings I made at home last summer. This is a duet I recorded (with myself singing both parts). It's totally unpolished, but it was fun...


Shenandoah

(Let me know if you guys can't open it or if it doesn't play or something...)

-h

PS: I have to go read some articles, but Cool Hand Luke is on TV and I fucking love Paul Newman. I can't turn it off. I can't stop staring at him. Is my work ever going to get done?

:)