Perpetual Confusion

You guys are all going to laugh at me after all the drama that I've made, but here it goes...

Yes, I've been in touch with Narc.
No, I haven't changed my mind about the need to end things.

(But what are you doing about it, Hyde?
Damn it... I'm not very good at all of this, am I?)

Let's backtrack:

On Monday night he sent me a text: How was Beethoven?

I resisted answering for 24 hours. On Tuesday night I was depressed. I was very, very, depressed. I limpidly dragged myself over to Cheers where I sat, scowling, in the corner, chugging Jack Daniels and furiously working on my needlepoint. I was not in the mood to be sociable.

Four drinks later, I wrote to him.

Beethoven was ECSTATIC! Top 10 experiences of my life. How was martial arts no.1?

He answered almost immediately:

Bruce Lee was hardcore combat, which was great. Tai Chi/Kung Fu was OK, but a bit awkward for me. Very different. Ninjas on Thursday!

I wrote again:

You'll have to let me know how it goes! As for me-- going to an event Thurs night for Jess' bday. Then start teaching Friday. Yuck. No more vacation!

No response.

For the rest of the evening, I coaxed myself out of my mood with alcohol and then started talking to a really fucked up guy-- half Brazilian, half French, he was a self-proclaimed right wing French Nationalist who wanted to move to Monte Carlo to minimize his exposure to poor people and ugly people. He was wasted beyond belief and hitting on me. I couldn't stand him. I had on a thick peacock eye shadow and a black and gold scarf in my hair.

"You look very Missoni!" he said. "I love it!"

I thought he was a prick and devoted myself to embarrassing him by exposing his intellectual inferiority.

Anyway, that was my night. I came home drunk, but not so drunk that I forgot to take off my makeup before bed. All in all, not bad.

This morning I woke up early and had to head to the Upper West Side for a mini concert. My choir was doing a "lunchtime" concert-- a few of our Christmas concert pieces in order to keep the space we rehearse in.

Before I went, I checked my email. Shockingly, he had sent me a message! He wrote:

Well, looks like your mermaid movie, complete with Josh Grobin music and all, didn't screen test too well last night. Poor Shyamalan--after "The Sixth Sense", it's just been nothing but a downhill slide...

http://www.aintitcool.com/display.cgi?id=22290

-Narc

(For those of you who don't know-- I'm obesessed with mermaids). I wrote back:

:(

That sounds like the strangest plot ever. I'm not sure I understood what was going on half the time. But, whatever... It's a mermaid movie, so I have to see it!

(Maybe your penguins will be better...)

-Hyde

So it was off to my concert. Afterwards, I had a few hours to kill before my voice lesson, but I didn't want to come back to the East Side only to head West again an hour later. So I ate lunch, finished Beware of Pity (a book I was reading based on Narc's recommendation), and brought my needlepoint to Starbucks. The ending struck me. It was sad. So, as I finished the book, I texted him again:

Just finished the book. I can't believe it! :(

He wrote back right away:

Couldn't have ended any other way! Having a German lunch now.

(That German restaurant is the same place he was eating at on Sunday night when he texted PopStarChick "Wish you were here.")

I answered:

Yeah, but a girl can hope! You at the same place? Do they have your dessert this time?

He didn't respond.

My voice lesson was mediocre. I've been so fatigued that I was very low energy in the lesson. It was hard not to wobble on the low register break and I was too heavy on the high-- my voice just wouldn't flip into the loft voice. Grrr....

I went on with my day. I came home and tried to dye my hair. Unfortunately, as it's been dyed black for nine months now, it was too stubborn to lighten and I think I'm going to have to have it professionally done if I want it to be anything other than black. I watched some Boston Legal on TV and decided I have a crush on James Spader. Then I bummed around with NDN for the rest of the evening.

A while back, I had mentioned to Narc that I have opera tickets for Saturday-- a matinee performance of Mozart's Cosi Fan Tutti. Well, he texted me about it this evening:

Ah, the Mozart... Sure thing! Meeting CouchSleeper at 5:30 on Sat. but should be ok. Call later.

Huh?

Well, call later he did. I just got off the phone with him after about half an hour of debriefing about the past few days.

So I'm pretty crazy and fucked up. And I must seem like a total hypocrite.

I don't know...

All I know, anymore, is this--

I'm not going out drinking tonight. I'm going to get on my exercise bike in the morning and eat better tomorrow. And I need to stop having sex with people I can't trust.

Why am I perpetually confused?

-h-