On the Fringe

I'm really too tired to write (or even think!) much of anything today, but I'll try. Whatever little energy I had, I just expended talking about the Black Death. Ah, the culture of death... I showed my class the Bonn Pieta (c. 1300) (to the left).

I'm just feeling wiped out.

On Thursday after I left Narc at the Patriot, I went to look at Egyptian art with Bezoukhoff and then to Salmon Night. I'm amazed at how much he knows about everything. Even though I was the one with tickets to the exhibit, he managed to give me a tour of everything! Over dinner he translated one of my choir pieces for me-- Shostakovich's Antiformalist Rayok.

On Friday night (on very little sleep-- I woke up at 5:00 am to grade papers!) I taught all day and then took the rush hour train to Long Island. My mom asked me to be her date to some lawyer's association Multiple Sclerosis karaoke-party/fundraiser. My mom knew a few people there. I, of course, knew no one. That is, I thought I knew no one. While I was on line for the buffet, I bumped into my old voice teacher! My very first voice teacher! While I appreciate what she did for my voice (she really helped me discover the top of my range), personality-wise, she is not someone I would choose to work with in the long run. She also had the tendency to have her students over-sing. (At 18, she put me on Dalila's "Mon coeur s'ouvre a ta voix"...). Anyway, I was with my mother who takes it upon herself to shamelessly promote her children-- especially me. I know she thinks I'm too shy to advocate for myself or to put myself out there in any real way, so she thinks that advertising my talent is her duty.

"Tell her what you're doing now!" my mom insisted. "Tell her all about it!"

I started to tell her about my graduate studies, my work with my current voice teacher, etc.

"She's SO talented!" my mom exclaimed. "Tell her how TALENTED you are, sweetie!"

I felt so awkward-- like a five year old!

"Well, I think I'm talented," I meekly offered.

"Not just you! Everyone thinks she's got a career-voice. I just need to give her a push," my mom said. "She's got the talent, but she seems afraid to use it."

Since we were at a karaoke party, my teacher asked if I would be singing something later.

"Yeah, I guess..."

When we returned to our table, my mom nudged me.

"You really have to try to do something with this," she said. "If I leave you alone about it, I'm not doing you a service. You're 27. The time to take your chance is now. I don't know if it's gonna be opera, but try to make some money singing somewhere! You have too much talent to waste."

The whole conversation stressed me out. Lately, I've been living on a fringe. I'm on the verge of emotional collapse. If I take to heart what my mom was saying, I'd have to acknowledge just how much I've robbed from the rest of my life with all of the drinking and obsessing about N. I feel like I'm going crazy. But there it is. And I still feel stuck under a rock.

Anyway, I did sing at that party and everyone said it was great, but I wasn't satisfied with the performance. My voice was exhausted from the six hours of lecturing. And I don't like singing in public if it's not just right.

My mom took me back to the train at around 11:00 pm. If I had to contend with rush hour crowds on the way to the suburbs, it was even worse on the way back to the city! This time I had to deal with the annoying drunks heading into the city for Friday night clubbing. In my particular car I was surrounded by a gaggle of early 20-something girls. They were WAY too tanned, too blonde and in pants that were too tight. They were incredibly loud and crass (which made them very unattractive) and they seemed so pleased with themselves for having a large supply of booze to go around. They postured and flipped their hair and took up twice the number of seats necessary and shouted across the car as if they owned it. I wanted to kick them all in the face. Obviously I didn't. Instead, I sank down into my chair, glowering as I cranked up Leonard Cohen on my iPod.

To make matters worse, when I got to Penn Station, no one was running the taxi line and there were throngs of tipsy, hyper Bridge & Tunnel people trying to snag cabs up and down Seventh Avenue. Fuck it... Despite my exhaustion and the fact that I was carrying a ton of books, I decided to walk it. When I reached home, I collapsed into bed nearly immediately. And for once, I didn't set the alarm!

At 1:00 am my phone rang. It was Narc.

"What are you up to? Are you out?" he asked.

"In bed," I croaked.

"Oh. Well, you sound exhausted. Go back to sleep!"

And I did.

On Saturday I woke up at around noon. Narc had left me an 8:00 am "Dying...!" message, so I called him, but he didn't pick up. The theme of the day? Finish those fucking centerpieces for my mom's party! Bezoukhoff had volunteered to come over to help, so I called him and he came. He is way too nice to me. Sometimes that makes me feel strange. At one point, he even left my house and went over to school to print things out and make copies for me. I treated him to lunch, but still feel it wasn't enough to repay him for the hours of cutting, pasting and gluing that he did for me. We worked straight through to 7:00 pm when my parents came to pick me up. The project remained unfinished.

Why were my parents there? With my new dabbling in "cabaret," they agreed to take me to the Carlyle Room to hear Barbara Cook sing.

I felt lucky to have the chance to hear a legend, and I have to say-- she was FABULOUS! And at her age (she must be around 77), it was astounding in what good shape she keeps her voice! She didn't sound at all like an old woman! What was most interesting for me was how much of her performance she carried in her face. She really lived each of the songs. It made me want to go home and sing in front of the mirror. She sang mostly a mix of Sondheim, Kern, etc.

It was exciting just to get to be in the Carlyle Room itself. B and I were there once last year (to see Ute Lemper), but it was a major splurge for us and we couldn't really afford to eat. As this was my parents treat, we were able to indulge in the fabulous food and I had a $50 plate of perfect lamb chops. Mmmm!

After the show, my parents dropped me off at home. I wasn't sure what the night would bring. Before long, Narc called. He said that he was at Cheers because he had a "money-meeting" nearby. I rushed over there to meet him. The Smolderer was there and said hello to me.

Narc was tired and in a bad mood. I led him to the back of the bar and ordered us some drinks. I was happy to see him and happy that he surprised me. I told him so.

"This is such a pleasant surprise!" I said.

"What is?"

"Your company, of course!"

He gave me a strange look. I don't know... was that a strange thing to say?

Anyway, we stayed there for about an hour or so. I kept trying to cheer him up. ("Cheer up Charlie!" I sang, stirring my laundry in the barrel. He laughed at that.)

"I'm not depressed," he said. "Just tired."

I did most of the talking at a mile a minute. IrishBird called me to sing Manic Monday and my voice was in perfect shape. After about six drinks, Narc wanted to call it a night.

I had a party invitation from Hammer, so I decided to taxi downtown with Narc and get off at Laguardia and Houston (the party was at a bar called "Askew.") I invited Narc along, but he said that he really was too tired. (By the way, he also said that CouchSleeper is going to be staying with him for a few days. I think that means he won't be around so much!). In the cab, I started singing Big Spender and Narc started humming the musical interludes. I liked it. I kissed him goodbye when we got there.

Once inside the bustling bar, I was greeted by Hammer and her friend Maximus. Hammer was tipsy and "on the prowl." Originally, NDN was supposed to be at that party too, but there was some kind of mixup between him and Hammer (which caused a bit of a problem between them) and he never made it to the party.

I had a lot of fun there. Hammer knocked over a table (oops!) and we talked to a loser boy who said he likes to go to the beach. ("Tanner or swimmer?" I asked. Hammer was surprised.) Another annoying guy there (who said he was friends with the owner) kept touching my back. Ick! Maximus and I had fun analyzing Hammer's love/sex preferences. And the birthday girl annoyed Hammer by telling her that her friend Angel is really "not as nice" as Hammer thinks. Oh, and I drank a lot more there.

After that, Hammer wanted to go seek out another suitor at a club nearby. It was about 3:30 am (with the time change). I agreed.

The next place was much more club-like with a lot of people dancing upstairs. To tell you the truth, it reminded me of my club days in college. I ordered a drink and waited while Hammer sought out her friend. He was nowhere to be seen.

So instead, we decided to take off for Marie's Crisis (the piano bar where Hammer met SingMan!). In the meanwhile, at 3:29 am I got a text. Guess who it was from? Merlin!

Merlin: Hey stranja!
Hyde: Where are you?
Merlin: Home. U?
Hyde: Marie's Crisis.
Merlin: Partying?
Hyde: Of course! Help me out?
Merlin: U wanna hang here?
Hyde: Not tonight. It's late. Some other time?
Merlin: Cool. I'll probably b hangin monday nite
Hyde: Weeknights are hard for me, but let me know...

Hammer had bought a beer in the previous bar that she didn't finish, so I stuck the bottle in my purse. When we got to Marie's Crisis guess what song they were playing? Big Spender! Weird, right? They were doing a "prostitute's medley." Hammer and I saw Dimples' girlfriend-- some girl who had also been in the bar the night that Hammer met SingMan. She acted like a bitch, though, and pushed in front of Hammer to get a seat. Hammer and I moved over near the bar instead.

Then things started to sour. The bartender came over to us and yelled at Hammer about her beer.

"We don't even SELL that kind of beer here!" he exclaimed.

Then I spilled my drink.

"Hyde! Let's just get out of here!" Hammer said.

I agreed. We ran for the door.

Hammer was walking fast and kept urging me on. I NEVER cross against the light when I drink, but Hammer kept telling me when we could make it across. She laughed because she said I seemed to "like" taking orders. Maximus called her and we joked about the Schlieffen Plan.

We stopped for pizza at Hammer's favorite pizza joint. She wanted to take the stuff back to her new apartment to eat. We went up to the roof. It's a truly beautiful roof top and she's lucky to have moved in just in time for the warm weather! After hanging out up there for a while, she took me down to see the apartment. It's beautiful! I think she's going to be very happy there. Hammer made quesadillas. It was nearly 5:00 am. Time for Hyde to head home.

I got to my corner just after 5:00 am. Guess what? Cheers was still open! I was astounded, but when I approached the door, PumpedUp told me it was because of Daylight Savings that they were allowed to stay open the extra hour. The lights were on and they were cleaning me up, but they invited me in and BarMan poured me a double.

Somehow (and I don't quite remember how), I started talking to some guy. He was short, Jewish and a doctor. He asked me if I wanted to go outside for a smoke. I thought it was strange that a doctor would smoke. I don't remember the details of our conversation. All I know is that I was going on and on about this and that, and telling him WAY TOO MUCH personal information about my life and he was acting very intrigued. It must have been around 5:45 am when Cheers was shutting down for good, because everyone began to pour into the street, including three other guys-- friends of the one I was talking to.

They asked me if I knew of a 24 hour diner and I told them about one five blocks away.

"C'mon! Let's go!" they said to me. "We've got a car."

"I can't get into a car with you!" I protested.

"Why not?"

"Because you're four strange boys and everyone's drinking."

"I haven't been drinking," said the smoking doctor.

"What?!?! You haven't?!?! Then why have I been telling you my life in all its drunken detail?" I suddenly felt embarrassed.

Anyway, I did get into the car with the boys and we all went to the diner. I was nauseous and saying too much. I didn't get anything to eat. One of the guys graduated Columbia five years before I did. Another had never smoked marijuana. They now know too much about me. I don't remember anyone's name.

At around 7:00 am, I looked outside into the broad morning light. The Sunday morning crowd was starting to fill the street. I suddenly realized that it was 7 :00 am and I was in a diner holding court with four strange boys. What the fuck, Hyde!??!?! Time to go home.

When I got home, I texted Narc: Fuck. Late night! Then I literally collapsed into bed. I set my alarm for 11:00 am so that I could get up in time to do some more work on those centerpieces.

I don't know how I survived the day on Sunday. When I woke up, Narc had sent me back a text: Wow. Most impressive! Hammer and NDN were upset at each other and I spent a significant amount of time talking to each of them about the problem. NDN brought me a papaya. I was sad that I couldn't go outside and enjoy the beautiful weather. My left eyelid was puffy and I had an enormous bruise growing on my knee-- a beautiful blackish purple with streaks of red. It's so fucking swollen and I don't know how it happened. But there it is. And I spent my Sunday just working myself to the bone trying to finish my project.

At 5:00 pm I still wasn't finished, but I had to call it quits. I had a concert to sing in that night with a 6:00 pm call time and I still had to get ready. I called my mom and told her that either she or LilSis would have to do the finishing touches, but that I would give her what I had. Then I got dressed (with no time to even eat dinner!) and rushed across town to the church. We had an hour long rehearsal (in high heels) followed by the concert. I honestly don't know how I was still standing.

The concert went really well. Bezoukhoff came, and so did my parents. I was a little disappointed that Narc never showed up (he had said he was planning on coming "as a surprise") and Hammer didn't make it either, but I suppose that's life... (NDN couldn't make it this time either). After the performance, my parents drove me home and Bezoukhoff and I picked up dinner and ate it at my place, watching the Simpsons. I also watched the Flavor of Love Reunion show, which I have to say was a truly surreal experience! I texted Narc again before bed, but he didn't write back.

Today I'm wearing his T-shirt. I like it. The biggest thing on my mind today-- I promised B I'd go to an AA meeting and I really don't want to go. I mean, I do want to go, but I don't want to go. I looked one up and there's a beginner's meeting right near where I teach, but I feel sick about it and I honestly don't feel like discussing it here, so please don't comment on it. I don't want anyone's opinion/advice/encouragement right now. I'm only mentioning it because it's what's swallowing up my brain this morning. It's sucking up all of my emotional energy. Maybe I won't go... I don't know.

Anyway, that's it for now. I'm hungry and I want to get lunch. I only slept five hours again last night, so I'm still feeling like a bit of a zombie. Hopefully tonight I can get some decent sleep.

Later...

-h-