I have been so very busy lately and barely in front of a computer, so I've had hardly a moment to post. I think in general, it's a good thing, as I haven't had endless morose hours of being hungover, obsessively recounting the previous night in perverse detail. That said, I have a lot of interesting things to write about and I'm sad that I've fallen behind in my blogging. I have a lot to do this week-- my grades are due in on Monday, among other things, but I'll do my best to update you guys as soon as I can...
To be included:
--The picnic with Dan, NDN, RDN and Narc
--The zoo with Dan and Narc
--Dinner with Hammer, Dan, LilHammer and LilHammer's boyfriend
--Our trip to Marie's Crisis
--Going back to the Patriot with Narc and the strangeness that ensued
--My experience at a totally NEW piano bar last night, during which I became a completely FABULOUS superstar diva!
And that leads us to today...
I am writing this from Brick's computer. We hung out after "group" today on the pier down in the Village. I graded papers. I still have a lot more to grade. I got a sunburn on my chest. Despite my SPF 65, I no longer look like a ghostly Victorian painting and I'm not happy about that.
So, more later...
love,
h
Wednesday, May 31, 2006
Monday, May 29, 2006
Reunion
I'm in my living room with Dan. Yay! He says he's happy to be back in NY and in my apartment. Oh! And he's very happy to have finally met Narc. Yes-- you heard me right! Dan has met Narc. We had a somewhat odd picnic gathering in Central Park this afternoon with me, Dan, Narc, NDN and NDN's friend RDN (which stands for "Russian Diet Nazi").
Anyway-- the weekend had its ups and downs, and I'll have to tell you all about it soon. But for the moment, I'm just trying to ignore the clapping thunder outside and figure out a place to go for dinner with Dan. He says he wants Mexican.
Later...
-h-
Anyway-- the weekend had its ups and downs, and I'll have to tell you all about it soon. But for the moment, I'm just trying to ignore the clapping thunder outside and figure out a place to go for dinner with Dan. He says he wants Mexican.
Later...
-h-
Saturday, May 27, 2006
Hungry, Angry, Lonely, Tired.
Yesterday was a really strange day. I've been having a hard time figuring out how I feel about things lately. I don't know... In terms of quitting drinking, it was really hard the first week and then easier, and now it's really hard again. (I'm at 19 days now). Why is that???
Anyway, I had to wake up super early yesterday, even though I had a relatively restless sleep due to the fact that I was hyper-aware that I was ignoring Narc's attempted contacts. I was in blue-sweatshirt mode, waiting for a cab at 7:00 am when I heard someone call my name. It was FightingMensch. He was crossing the street.
"Hey, Hyde! What's up?" he called, waving his arm.
He had an odd expression on his face. He was wearing an orange shirt. I hadn't seen him since that night he was at Cheers, drunk, telling about how his brother was in jail for murder. I don't know how all of that resolved. I sent him a card the next day saying "I know it's really none of my business, but I wanted to let you know that I'm thinking of you, your brother and your family. Let me know if I can do anything at all," or something like that. Maybe yesterday morning's awkward wave hello was an acknowledgment of that...
I gave exams and graded papers all day yesterday. When it was over, I met a student back in my office. She had to drop off her term paper. On her way out, she paused and turned.
"There's just one more thing I wanted to ask you, professor," she said.
"What's that?"
"Um... Well... How old are you?"
I laughed.
"27."
"27? Really? You look a lot younger than that!"
Me: "Really? Yay!!!"
Her: "Yeah! You look like you're 25 or 23!"
Me: "I used to be 25 and 23."
She looked at me strangely, unsure of what to say. So I continued.
"I mean... I started teaching here when I was 25. And I started teaching in general when I was 23. Wait-- actually, I was 22 when I started."
Her: "Oh. Well... Have a fun summer, professor."
Me: "Ok. You too."
Then, as I was grading papers, I noticed a very odd essay in the pile. It was clearly plagiarized. I don't know how teachers did it in the olden days, but I googled a few sentences and up came articles from Wikipedia and MSN Encarta. It was lazy plagiarism. This kid is a fucking moron. Since I already gave finals, and classes are over for the semester, I had no way of contacting him except email. So I wrote him a letter:
*******************
Dear J,
Pages two and five of your paper appear to have been DIRECTLY copied from Wikipedia.
(I inserted the link to the Wikipedia article.)
Parts of your first page have been directly plagiarized from MSN Encarta:
(I inserted the link to the Encarta article.)
As you know, plagiarism is COMPLETELY UNACCEPTABLE. If you were having trouble with this assignment, you had ample opportunity to come to office hours to ask me for help What you did here was both lazy and insulting. I will let you know how I plan to proceed from here. You most certainly will not get credit for the paper, and may, in fact, fail the course. I need to contact my department to find out how to properly proceed in cases of plagiarism.
In the meantime, I'd like to know what you have to say for yourself.
Sincerely,
Professor Hyde
*******************
I doubt I'll really contact the department, as that would majorly fuck him over, but I wanted to scare him a little. Stuff like that, when done poorly, REALLY pisses me off. At least take the time to plagiarize more appropriate material. It caught my eye because it had very little to do with the question assigned! Ugh!
Anyway, moving on...
I have been feeling so tired and irritable lately... Restless and anti-social at the same time. Hammer's parents were in town and she had invited me to dinner with them, but I really wasn't up for it. I just wanted to come home after my long day and vegetate and be alone. And that's exactly what I did. I talked to VJ for a while on the phone, and to NDN for a while on the phone, but I mostly just laid around and watched television.
Time went by and I hadn't eaten dinner. I was starting to feel more and more anxious and more and more irritable. I wanted to go out. OUT!!! O-O-O-UT!!!
I texted Narc: What are you up to tonight?
He didn't write back right away, so I kept flipping channels on TV.
Then I had to text him again: Just found "What the Bleep Do We Know?" on TV. But am too wiped out to be thoughtful & pay attention to it right now. Trying to catch that 2nd wind...
He wrote back: Heading out for a bit, may give a call later.
My reply: K. But I might not be up into the wee hours of the night. Not sure of my plans yet. Have fun, wherever you're off to!
(All this was at around 9:00 pm).
Anyway, I decided to take a shower. That's always B's remedy for irritability or depression.
When I got out, Narc had written me another text: Off meeting PopStarChick for catch up etc. Just bought 17 inch MacBook Pro. Woohoo!! Also, my two tea light grids for hanging above my TV. Can't wait! Also, "Goonies" tonight and tomorrow night at Landmark Sunshine. Midnight showings only!
Did I need to know he was meeting PopStarChick? Now I had a knot in my stomach on top of everything else. My chest felt tight. I started to blow dry my hair.
I got a text from Brick: How r u doing?
The answer? Not so good. So I wrote back: Kind of shitty. Having urges to go out. Back-reading my blog and craving drama. N still being an asshole. But just showered and now drying my hair. How bout you?
He called me. He was out in NJ visiting his sister, but offered to come back into the city if I needed company. He told me that one of the AA "acronyms" is "HALT": Hungry, Angry, Lonely, Tired. He said that being in any of those states makes you vulnerable to relapse, so the first thing I needed to do was eat, and the second, to figure out some company for the night. Hmm... at that very moment, I was hungry, angry, lonely AND tired, but also cranky and asocial. I told him I would get on it and he said he would call me back in 20 minutes.
So I decided to walk to the deli to get a sandwich for dinner. At this point, it must have been around 11:00 pm. The only problem? I never made it to the deli. Instead, I swung into Cheers.
BarMan gave me a big hug when I came in, as did the bouncer and IrishBird. I found a seat in the corner and settled in with a diet coke. I couldn't stop my leg from shaking up and down. A whole crowd of the Nigerians were there. Two of them kissed me hello. I shifted seats a few times. PreppyGirl was at the bar and was sobbing. I couldn't ascertain what the problem was. When she left, I moved over to the bar, wedging myself in against the jukebox. Cali was there, as was TT's good friend N, another girl named Shaysis (I'm not sure if I've mentioned her before) and that guy Chris (who I'm going to call RainbowBoy from now on). BarMan was doing a really funny imitation of RainbowBoy's drunk dance.
All of that said, I wasn't in the mood to talk to anybody. PCuz was tending bar and was surprised that I still wasn't drinking. I felt uncomfortable. But how can that be? How could I have been uncomfortable in the place I feel most comfortable of all!
Both BarMan and IrishBird told me that they were really proud of me for sticking with things thus far. PumpedUp came up from downstairs and he was wearing an orange shirt.
I keep seeing orange shirts.
Of course, all the while, I kept waiting for Narc to text. It wasn't even a thought-- just a feeling and an anxious, constricted leap in my heart each time the phone buzzed in my pocket. For the most part, all of the buzzing was NDN, out with some friends at Congee Village.
At 12:30 am, the phone buzzed again. This time it was Brick: What's up?? he wrote.
Hmm... I had told him I was going to get food and company and instead ended up at the bar. I didn't want to tell him I was at the bar, so I figured I better leave. I FINALLY got up and went to get dinner-- a sandwich across the street. Once I was in the deli I got an insatiable craving for ice cream (something I don't usually eat.) I wanted it. I went over to the freezer section to check out the Ben & Jerry's. I looked at the Chocolate Brownie and the Half Baked. Narc likes those both.
Which one should I get? I thought. Which one would he get?
Then I had to stop myself. I really am sick with this. WHY the fuck was I picking an ice cream flavor based on what he likes? What do I like? What the hell is wrong with me??? So, I picked a flavor I like-- coffee heath bar crunch! And it was delicious!
I ate it at home while watching Law & Order.
And I texted Brick back: Drank 50 trillion diet cokes, bought ice cream.. Spent time in my bar. N told me he would txt when he was done with plans. Hasn't yet. Overcaffinated. All that said, drinking urge passed for the most part. You?
He said that he was okay and was going to bed. I stayed up for a few more hours. Got into bed, got out of bed. Paced my living room; checked the internet; got back in bed; watched a lot more TV. I finally fell asleep at around 4:00 am. Narc had never called.
I think I know why, though. PopStarChick just moved out to Jersey. So, if they were out drinking and it got late, he probably offered for her to crash at his place as opposed to making it back to Jersey drunk. And that's why I didn't hear from him. It shouldn't matter though. I have to stop this obssessive thinking.
Anyway, today I got up, talked to B, talked to Hammer, talked to NDN, had a few spoonfuls of ice cream, made plans with Anxious (as she's leaving the country for a month, next week) and blogged. Now it's 1:30 and I haven't eaten lunch. So, guess what? I'm starting to feel Hungry, Anxious, Lonely and Tired. (I'm a girl with anger issues... Anger usually turns into anxiety or depression instead...)
So, I've got to get my day rolling. I have a lot of grading to do.
later...
h
Anyway, I had to wake up super early yesterday, even though I had a relatively restless sleep due to the fact that I was hyper-aware that I was ignoring Narc's attempted contacts. I was in blue-sweatshirt mode, waiting for a cab at 7:00 am when I heard someone call my name. It was FightingMensch. He was crossing the street.
"Hey, Hyde! What's up?" he called, waving his arm.
He had an odd expression on his face. He was wearing an orange shirt. I hadn't seen him since that night he was at Cheers, drunk, telling about how his brother was in jail for murder. I don't know how all of that resolved. I sent him a card the next day saying "I know it's really none of my business, but I wanted to let you know that I'm thinking of you, your brother and your family. Let me know if I can do anything at all," or something like that. Maybe yesterday morning's awkward wave hello was an acknowledgment of that...
I gave exams and graded papers all day yesterday. When it was over, I met a student back in my office. She had to drop off her term paper. On her way out, she paused and turned.
"There's just one more thing I wanted to ask you, professor," she said.
"What's that?"
"Um... Well... How old are you?"
I laughed.
"27."
"27? Really? You look a lot younger than that!"
Me: "Really? Yay!!!"
Her: "Yeah! You look like you're 25 or 23!"
Me: "I used to be 25 and 23."
She looked at me strangely, unsure of what to say. So I continued.
"I mean... I started teaching here when I was 25. And I started teaching in general when I was 23. Wait-- actually, I was 22 when I started."
Her: "Oh. Well... Have a fun summer, professor."
Me: "Ok. You too."
Then, as I was grading papers, I noticed a very odd essay in the pile. It was clearly plagiarized. I don't know how teachers did it in the olden days, but I googled a few sentences and up came articles from Wikipedia and MSN Encarta. It was lazy plagiarism. This kid is a fucking moron. Since I already gave finals, and classes are over for the semester, I had no way of contacting him except email. So I wrote him a letter:
*******************
Dear J,
Pages two and five of your paper appear to have been DIRECTLY copied from Wikipedia.
(I inserted the link to the Wikipedia article.)
Parts of your first page have been directly plagiarized from MSN Encarta:
(I inserted the link to the Encarta article.)
As you know, plagiarism is COMPLETELY UNACCEPTABLE. If you were having trouble with this assignment, you had ample opportunity to come to office hours to ask me for help What you did here was both lazy and insulting. I will let you know how I plan to proceed from here. You most certainly will not get credit for the paper, and may, in fact, fail the course. I need to contact my department to find out how to properly proceed in cases of plagiarism.
In the meantime, I'd like to know what you have to say for yourself.
Sincerely,
Professor Hyde
*******************
I doubt I'll really contact the department, as that would majorly fuck him over, but I wanted to scare him a little. Stuff like that, when done poorly, REALLY pisses me off. At least take the time to plagiarize more appropriate material. It caught my eye because it had very little to do with the question assigned! Ugh!
Anyway, moving on...
I have been feeling so tired and irritable lately... Restless and anti-social at the same time. Hammer's parents were in town and she had invited me to dinner with them, but I really wasn't up for it. I just wanted to come home after my long day and vegetate and be alone. And that's exactly what I did. I talked to VJ for a while on the phone, and to NDN for a while on the phone, but I mostly just laid around and watched television.
Time went by and I hadn't eaten dinner. I was starting to feel more and more anxious and more and more irritable. I wanted to go out. OUT!!! O-O-O-UT!!!
I texted Narc: What are you up to tonight?
He didn't write back right away, so I kept flipping channels on TV.
Then I had to text him again: Just found "What the Bleep Do We Know?" on TV. But am too wiped out to be thoughtful & pay attention to it right now. Trying to catch that 2nd wind...
He wrote back: Heading out for a bit, may give a call later.
My reply: K. But I might not be up into the wee hours of the night. Not sure of my plans yet. Have fun, wherever you're off to!
(All this was at around 9:00 pm).
Anyway, I decided to take a shower. That's always B's remedy for irritability or depression.
When I got out, Narc had written me another text: Off meeting PopStarChick for catch up etc. Just bought 17 inch MacBook Pro. Woohoo!! Also, my two tea light grids for hanging above my TV. Can't wait! Also, "Goonies" tonight and tomorrow night at Landmark Sunshine. Midnight showings only!
Did I need to know he was meeting PopStarChick? Now I had a knot in my stomach on top of everything else. My chest felt tight. I started to blow dry my hair.
I got a text from Brick: How r u doing?
The answer? Not so good. So I wrote back: Kind of shitty. Having urges to go out. Back-reading my blog and craving drama. N still being an asshole. But just showered and now drying my hair. How bout you?
He called me. He was out in NJ visiting his sister, but offered to come back into the city if I needed company. He told me that one of the AA "acronyms" is "HALT": Hungry, Angry, Lonely, Tired. He said that being in any of those states makes you vulnerable to relapse, so the first thing I needed to do was eat, and the second, to figure out some company for the night. Hmm... at that very moment, I was hungry, angry, lonely AND tired, but also cranky and asocial. I told him I would get on it and he said he would call me back in 20 minutes.
So I decided to walk to the deli to get a sandwich for dinner. At this point, it must have been around 11:00 pm. The only problem? I never made it to the deli. Instead, I swung into Cheers.
BarMan gave me a big hug when I came in, as did the bouncer and IrishBird. I found a seat in the corner and settled in with a diet coke. I couldn't stop my leg from shaking up and down. A whole crowd of the Nigerians were there. Two of them kissed me hello. I shifted seats a few times. PreppyGirl was at the bar and was sobbing. I couldn't ascertain what the problem was. When she left, I moved over to the bar, wedging myself in against the jukebox. Cali was there, as was TT's good friend N, another girl named Shaysis (I'm not sure if I've mentioned her before) and that guy Chris (who I'm going to call RainbowBoy from now on). BarMan was doing a really funny imitation of RainbowBoy's drunk dance.
All of that said, I wasn't in the mood to talk to anybody. PCuz was tending bar and was surprised that I still wasn't drinking. I felt uncomfortable. But how can that be? How could I have been uncomfortable in the place I feel most comfortable of all!
Both BarMan and IrishBird told me that they were really proud of me for sticking with things thus far. PumpedUp came up from downstairs and he was wearing an orange shirt.
I keep seeing orange shirts.
Of course, all the while, I kept waiting for Narc to text. It wasn't even a thought-- just a feeling and an anxious, constricted leap in my heart each time the phone buzzed in my pocket. For the most part, all of the buzzing was NDN, out with some friends at Congee Village.
At 12:30 am, the phone buzzed again. This time it was Brick: What's up?? he wrote.
Hmm... I had told him I was going to get food and company and instead ended up at the bar. I didn't want to tell him I was at the bar, so I figured I better leave. I FINALLY got up and went to get dinner-- a sandwich across the street. Once I was in the deli I got an insatiable craving for ice cream (something I don't usually eat.) I wanted it. I went over to the freezer section to check out the Ben & Jerry's. I looked at the Chocolate Brownie and the Half Baked. Narc likes those both.
Which one should I get? I thought. Which one would he get?
Then I had to stop myself. I really am sick with this. WHY the fuck was I picking an ice cream flavor based on what he likes? What do I like? What the hell is wrong with me??? So, I picked a flavor I like-- coffee heath bar crunch! And it was delicious!
I ate it at home while watching Law & Order.
And I texted Brick back: Drank 50 trillion diet cokes, bought ice cream.. Spent time in my bar. N told me he would txt when he was done with plans. Hasn't yet. Overcaffinated. All that said, drinking urge passed for the most part. You?
He said that he was okay and was going to bed. I stayed up for a few more hours. Got into bed, got out of bed. Paced my living room; checked the internet; got back in bed; watched a lot more TV. I finally fell asleep at around 4:00 am. Narc had never called.
I think I know why, though. PopStarChick just moved out to Jersey. So, if they were out drinking and it got late, he probably offered for her to crash at his place as opposed to making it back to Jersey drunk. And that's why I didn't hear from him. It shouldn't matter though. I have to stop this obssessive thinking.
Anyway, today I got up, talked to B, talked to Hammer, talked to NDN, had a few spoonfuls of ice cream, made plans with Anxious (as she's leaving the country for a month, next week) and blogged. Now it's 1:30 and I haven't eaten lunch. So, guess what? I'm starting to feel Hungry, Anxious, Lonely and Tired. (I'm a girl with anger issues... Anger usually turns into anxiety or depression instead...)
So, I've got to get my day rolling. I have a lot of grading to do.
later...
h
Oh, Yeah...
Oh, yeah... This is what it was like when I used to be an insomniac but before I was a drunk. It fucking sucks.
h
h
Friday, May 26, 2006
Out of Sorts (again)
(Why "again?" Because I feel like I must have used this title before. But I'm too lazy to go back and check...)
I'm feeling rather out of sorts. I was irritable all day yesterday and very unproductive. I felt anti-social as well. So much so that I cancelled my dinner plans last night with my friend, Nipkins, in favor of finishing up some grading that I never ended up finishing! I promised my students their papers back today, and I promise you-- they're not going to be happy with me.
I don't feel well, though. I am desperately tired and nauseated. (Wait a minute... I felt like this a year ago, but no-- it's not that.) I don't know what it is... All I know is that yesterday and today feel like shit.
I collapsed into bed early last night-- at around 10:30. And then, guess what? I got a text from Narc: Oh Patriot, oh PATRIOT...
I ignored.
I continued to feel sick.
And then another at 11:00 pm: Coming out?
I didn't answer.
Narc couldn't believe it:
What? Hyde not responding immediately?!?! What is going on here?!?! Something must be wrong with the text messaging system. It MUST be a mistake. I better call...
He did.
"Hey Hyde, it's Narc. I'm at the Patriot and I just gave you a text. But it just occurred to me that my texts are not necessarily arriving on time. So again-- it's about 11:15, and I'm gonna stay here for like one more drink and go back. But I have the new director's cut-- uncut version of KINGDOM OF HEAVEN, which everyone says kicks serious fucking ass. It's like GLADIATOR times ten, apparently. So I'm gonna start watching that soon. Um, so... If you wanna come down, meet up tonight... Thursday night... Then, call me back. Alright. Bye."
I listened to the message but didn't call back. And it was so fucking hard for me to fall asleep last night, despite my utter exhaustion.
This morning when I woke up, I found he had left another message on my home phone (the ringer had been shut off). That one was left at around 12:30 am and basically he said "I'm assuming you're out, but if you get this, call me..." This relationship is exhausting me. I'm sorry, but it is FUCKING EXHAUSTING!!!!
This morning Brick and I texted back and forth a few times. It's strange how a total stranger can come into your life out of nowhere and have a huge presence so immediately. I guess being in therapy together makes it easy to bond faster.
Damn, I wanted to drink last night. But I didn't.
I have to go staple exams together now. I'm administering in a few minutes. And I have to face the wrath of disgruntled students who will be told that they're not getting their papers back.
In other news-- I had a quick bite to eat with B last night. (I love him so much). I got to catch up for a little while with NDN, whom I haven't been seeing all that much of lately! (He's off to Wisconsin this weekend!). Dan and I texted, as he's back in town. And Hammer's family is here visiting. I am supposed to have dinner with them tonight, but I honestly don't feel up to it. I want to go home and crash out as soon as I can.
More later...
-h-
I'm feeling rather out of sorts. I was irritable all day yesterday and very unproductive. I felt anti-social as well. So much so that I cancelled my dinner plans last night with my friend, Nipkins, in favor of finishing up some grading that I never ended up finishing! I promised my students their papers back today, and I promise you-- they're not going to be happy with me.
I don't feel well, though. I am desperately tired and nauseated. (Wait a minute... I felt like this a year ago, but no-- it's not that.) I don't know what it is... All I know is that yesterday and today feel like shit.
I collapsed into bed early last night-- at around 10:30. And then, guess what? I got a text from Narc: Oh Patriot, oh PATRIOT...
I ignored.
I continued to feel sick.
And then another at 11:00 pm: Coming out?
I didn't answer.
Narc couldn't believe it:
What? Hyde not responding immediately?!?! What is going on here?!?! Something must be wrong with the text messaging system. It MUST be a mistake. I better call...
He did.
"Hey Hyde, it's Narc. I'm at the Patriot and I just gave you a text. But it just occurred to me that my texts are not necessarily arriving on time. So again-- it's about 11:15, and I'm gonna stay here for like one more drink and go back. But I have the new director's cut-- uncut version of KINGDOM OF HEAVEN, which everyone says kicks serious fucking ass. It's like GLADIATOR times ten, apparently. So I'm gonna start watching that soon. Um, so... If you wanna come down, meet up tonight... Thursday night... Then, call me back. Alright. Bye."
I listened to the message but didn't call back. And it was so fucking hard for me to fall asleep last night, despite my utter exhaustion.
This morning when I woke up, I found he had left another message on my home phone (the ringer had been shut off). That one was left at around 12:30 am and basically he said "I'm assuming you're out, but if you get this, call me..." This relationship is exhausting me. I'm sorry, but it is FUCKING EXHAUSTING!!!!
This morning Brick and I texted back and forth a few times. It's strange how a total stranger can come into your life out of nowhere and have a huge presence so immediately. I guess being in therapy together makes it easy to bond faster.
Damn, I wanted to drink last night. But I didn't.
I have to go staple exams together now. I'm administering in a few minutes. And I have to face the wrath of disgruntled students who will be told that they're not getting their papers back.
In other news-- I had a quick bite to eat with B last night. (I love him so much). I got to catch up for a little while with NDN, whom I haven't been seeing all that much of lately! (He's off to Wisconsin this weekend!). Dan and I texted, as he's back in town. And Hammer's family is here visiting. I am supposed to have dinner with them tonight, but I honestly don't feel up to it. I want to go home and crash out as soon as I can.
More later...
-h-
Thursday, May 25, 2006
"And How Does That Make You Feel?"
(I know, I know... Third post in less than 24 hours! And I said that I had lost the urge to blog? Guess not...)
I've been spending a lot of time in therapy. I think it's a good thing. I can already feel myself changing. Last night I enjoyed choir practice.
Today after group, I walked my new friend over to where his sister's car was parked-- a not so nice part of Alphabet City. There were a lot of homeless people around. He had to pee, so he went on the side of a tree while I kept guard. Someone had nailed a sign to the tree.
"If you steal cars here, you will be hanged!" it read.
A rusty spike kept the sign in place. Hanging from that spike was a long white noose. It was creepy.
My new friend (still blog-nameless) drove me back to my place. While I was in the car with him, I got a text message from Narc.
Let me back up a sec--
I saw Narc on Tuesday night and he was very depressed. He had been out at a party with two friends of his--both girls. One of them I had never heard of before. I asked him who she was and he said "just a friend... whatever..." and he shrugged it off beyond that.
The next day I was thinking of him in the morning, so I wrote, asking him how his day was going, and he responded with those texts about the ducks at the duck pond. As you all know, I wrote to him again asking him if he wanted to meet up later. He never responded.
Then, today, I got a text from him. But for you to get this, you need a little more context:
One of my absolutely most favorite summer activities is to ride a speed boat called "The Beast." The ride is offered by the Circle Line company, and every summer since they started offering the ride (in 2000), I have gone as many times as possible. (The last time I went on was with B in September). Anyway, I've been telling Narc about it for the past two summers and suggested several times that we go. We've never gone.
So, today, at 1:57 pm, he sent me a text: About to ride the Beast!!!
Why would he do that? Who is he with? I know he's with another girl. He knows that I know he's with another girl. Why would he write that to me? What does he have to gain? What kind of response is he trying to illicit?
"And how does that make you feel, Hyde?"
My first feeling was anxiety and obsession.
I wanted to write back right away and tell him to "have fun." I wanted to cement the fact that I am still here. That "we're" still here. That he wrote to me because he's sharing with me. That he wrote to me because he's thinking of me, and that's something, right?
But my new friend told me not to write back.
So I sat with it for a moment.
"And how does that make you feel, Hyde?"
It makes me feel rejected.
It makes me feel frustrated.
It makes me feel unworthy.
It makes me feel anxious and like I want to try harder.
It makes me feel angry?
It makes me feel sad.
I feel very, very rejected. And very, very sad.
Oh, and another thing-- I sure don't feel like myself lately.
love,
h
I've been spending a lot of time in therapy. I think it's a good thing. I can already feel myself changing. Last night I enjoyed choir practice.
Today after group, I walked my new friend over to where his sister's car was parked-- a not so nice part of Alphabet City. There were a lot of homeless people around. He had to pee, so he went on the side of a tree while I kept guard. Someone had nailed a sign to the tree.
"If you steal cars here, you will be hanged!" it read.
A rusty spike kept the sign in place. Hanging from that spike was a long white noose. It was creepy.
My new friend (still blog-nameless) drove me back to my place. While I was in the car with him, I got a text message from Narc.
Let me back up a sec--
I saw Narc on Tuesday night and he was very depressed. He had been out at a party with two friends of his--both girls. One of them I had never heard of before. I asked him who she was and he said "just a friend... whatever..." and he shrugged it off beyond that.
The next day I was thinking of him in the morning, so I wrote, asking him how his day was going, and he responded with those texts about the ducks at the duck pond. As you all know, I wrote to him again asking him if he wanted to meet up later. He never responded.
Then, today, I got a text from him. But for you to get this, you need a little more context:
One of my absolutely most favorite summer activities is to ride a speed boat called "The Beast." The ride is offered by the Circle Line company, and every summer since they started offering the ride (in 2000), I have gone as many times as possible. (The last time I went on was with B in September). Anyway, I've been telling Narc about it for the past two summers and suggested several times that we go. We've never gone.
So, today, at 1:57 pm, he sent me a text: About to ride the Beast!!!
Why would he do that? Who is he with? I know he's with another girl. He knows that I know he's with another girl. Why would he write that to me? What does he have to gain? What kind of response is he trying to illicit?
"And how does that make you feel, Hyde?"
My first feeling was anxiety and obsession.
I wanted to write back right away and tell him to "have fun." I wanted to cement the fact that I am still here. That "we're" still here. That he wrote to me because he's sharing with me. That he wrote to me because he's thinking of me, and that's something, right?
But my new friend told me not to write back.
So I sat with it for a moment.
"And how does that make you feel, Hyde?"
It makes me feel rejected.
It makes me feel frustrated.
It makes me feel unworthy.
It makes me feel anxious and like I want to try harder.
It makes me feel angry?
It makes me feel sad.
I feel very, very rejected. And very, very sad.
Oh, and another thing-- I sure don't feel like myself lately.
love,
h
Something New
I just wanted to post something because I didn't want my previous post to be the last word up here.
So... I guess I'm just writing to say good morning to you all!
I'm running late. I need to go finish getting ready.
love,
hyde
So... I guess I'm just writing to say good morning to you all!
I'm running late. I need to go finish getting ready.
love,
hyde
Wednesday, May 24, 2006
Brick
I drank a diet coke and tried to hallucinate Jack Daniels in it.
It's strange-- I'm able to tell my new friend all sorts of crazy shit and it makes perfect sense to him. Like-- once I made out with a cab driver because I didn't have money to pay the fare. (He's done that too!) Once I woke up on the sidewalk. (So did he!) Once I brought a guy home to do drugs and was assaulted in my apartment. Oh, wait-- that happened twice. Drama, drama, drama... I've had so many dramatic fights ending with the dripping of my own blood.
There are a lot of things I can't tell you guys.
He has stories of his own-- once he asked a homeless girl if she wanted to stay with him, only to find out that she had a boyfriend that started dealing drugs out of the apartment. Once he dated a prostitute. Once he punched a guy in a bar, and the guy was twice his size. Oh yeah-- and he said some nasty things to that guy-- things he doesn't even believe.
I've said things that I don't believe. Sucked dicks. Done things...
He has said a lot of shitty things. Stupid things. I've cried a lot and cut myself up--my hands, wrists, arms, ankles, thighs, hips. And I've cut up my heart. It's all good though, right?
Why do I love those things? Why do I miss those things?
We both love them. The change is going to have to be major.
Brick: Oh, yes sir. (Lifting his glass) You can live with this.
Big Daddy: That's not livin', that's a-dodgin away from life.
Brick: I want to dodge away from it.
Big Daddy: Then son, why don't you kill yourself?
Brick: 'Cause I like to drink.
Big Daddy: I can't talk to you.
Brick: I'm sorry.
I like to drink too.
It's strange-- I'm able to tell my new friend all sorts of crazy shit and it makes perfect sense to him. Like-- once I made out with a cab driver because I didn't have money to pay the fare. (He's done that too!) Once I woke up on the sidewalk. (So did he!) Once I brought a guy home to do drugs and was assaulted in my apartment. Oh, wait-- that happened twice. Drama, drama, drama... I've had so many dramatic fights ending with the dripping of my own blood.
There are a lot of things I can't tell you guys.
He has stories of his own-- once he asked a homeless girl if she wanted to stay with him, only to find out that she had a boyfriend that started dealing drugs out of the apartment. Once he dated a prostitute. Once he punched a guy in a bar, and the guy was twice his size. Oh yeah-- and he said some nasty things to that guy-- things he doesn't even believe.
I've said things that I don't believe. Sucked dicks. Done things...
He has said a lot of shitty things. Stupid things. I've cried a lot and cut myself up--my hands, wrists, arms, ankles, thighs, hips. And I've cut up my heart. It's all good though, right?
Why do I love those things? Why do I miss those things?
We both love them. The change is going to have to be major.
Brick: Oh, yes sir. (Lifting his glass) You can live with this.
Big Daddy: That's not livin', that's a-dodgin away from life.
Brick: I want to dodge away from it.
Big Daddy: Then son, why don't you kill yourself?
Brick: 'Cause I like to drink.
Big Daddy: I can't talk to you.
Brick: I'm sorry.
I like to drink too.
What's Happened to Hyde?
What's happened to Hyde?
I've gotten myself into a program that requires 3 hours of therapy a day, four days a week. Of course, that's on top of my normal weekly therapy. Now, we all know that I can go on and on about myself forever, but even for me-- that's a lot of self-processing!
As such, I've lost the urgency to blog. In fact, I'm fucking exhausted and don't want to think about my thoughts or feelings for one more second!!!
That said, I made a new friend-- an immediately close friend and I've spent the bulk of the past two days with him, getting to know him and comparing "war stories." We have a hell of a lot in common. I need to think of a blog name for him, as I'm sure he'll be reappearing.
And on the Narc front, you ask? He texted me twice last night while I was at my new friend's place with my cell phone off. (My battery died). He wrote:
Seen "Idol" yet? Think I feel Patriot calling...
and then
Patriot was dead, so got a meatball sandwich and came home to watch "Idol." God, I am such a loser...
Well, he plucked my heart strings. I immediately called him back and arranged to see him. On the way down there, I stopped in at Cheers to say hi.
"Hyde! We can't pay our rent around here anymore!" PumpedUp bemoaned.
"Sorry!"
I went to see Narc. He was supremely depressed. His hair was cut. He had been at some swanky party with two friends--both girls. Both ditched him without a word.
Poor Narc!
(Stop thinking that way, Hyde!).
I tried to cheer him up. It didn't work. We watched a good portion of Batman Begins. I remembered when he went to see that on IMAX with his friends last summer and didn't invite me. We had strange sex-- difficult to initiate, distant feeling anal sex. Narc had to get water immediately afterwards.
Someone once said that "the asshole is the window to the soul." I understood her point at the time, but somehow it never feels that way for me.
Today, Narc sent me another text: Lunching at Hoi An, then over to visit my ducks.
A few hours later, he sent me a picture of one of the ducks. It was cute. I was melted. I wrote back:
That is so sweet! Your ducks have returned to their rightful home. Yay! I ate lunch outside today and enjoyed the sunshine too. Idol results tonight. But I have to wait til after my choir to watch. Let me know if you want to meet up later...
Anyway, I'm really glad I made a new good friend. We clicked immediately. It's cool.
And I am thinking a lot lately about self-manufactured misery. I'm as addicted to Narc as I am to alcohol... maybe even more so. It's fucking hard. At least Jack Daniels doesn't send me text messages asking me to meet him.
Tough.
Things are tough right now.
But I'm in the thick of it, and it's not so bad to be a little proactive...
love,
h
I've gotten myself into a program that requires 3 hours of therapy a day, four days a week. Of course, that's on top of my normal weekly therapy. Now, we all know that I can go on and on about myself forever, but even for me-- that's a lot of self-processing!
As such, I've lost the urgency to blog. In fact, I'm fucking exhausted and don't want to think about my thoughts or feelings for one more second!!!
That said, I made a new friend-- an immediately close friend and I've spent the bulk of the past two days with him, getting to know him and comparing "war stories." We have a hell of a lot in common. I need to think of a blog name for him, as I'm sure he'll be reappearing.
And on the Narc front, you ask? He texted me twice last night while I was at my new friend's place with my cell phone off. (My battery died). He wrote:
Seen "Idol" yet? Think I feel Patriot calling...
and then
Patriot was dead, so got a meatball sandwich and came home to watch "Idol." God, I am such a loser...
Well, he plucked my heart strings. I immediately called him back and arranged to see him. On the way down there, I stopped in at Cheers to say hi.
"Hyde! We can't pay our rent around here anymore!" PumpedUp bemoaned.
"Sorry!"
I went to see Narc. He was supremely depressed. His hair was cut. He had been at some swanky party with two friends--both girls. Both ditched him without a word.
Poor Narc!
(Stop thinking that way, Hyde!).
I tried to cheer him up. It didn't work. We watched a good portion of Batman Begins. I remembered when he went to see that on IMAX with his friends last summer and didn't invite me. We had strange sex-- difficult to initiate, distant feeling anal sex. Narc had to get water immediately afterwards.
Someone once said that "the asshole is the window to the soul." I understood her point at the time, but somehow it never feels that way for me.
Today, Narc sent me another text: Lunching at Hoi An, then over to visit my ducks.
A few hours later, he sent me a picture of one of the ducks. It was cute. I was melted. I wrote back:
That is so sweet! Your ducks have returned to their rightful home. Yay! I ate lunch outside today and enjoyed the sunshine too. Idol results tonight. But I have to wait til after my choir to watch. Let me know if you want to meet up later...
Anyway, I'm really glad I made a new good friend. We clicked immediately. It's cool.
And I am thinking a lot lately about self-manufactured misery. I'm as addicted to Narc as I am to alcohol... maybe even more so. It's fucking hard. At least Jack Daniels doesn't send me text messages asking me to meet him.
Tough.
Things are tough right now.
But I'm in the thick of it, and it's not so bad to be a little proactive...
love,
h
Tuesday, May 23, 2006
Monday, May 22, 2006
Web of Dreams: Part II
So... let me just pick up where I left off. It was 10:00 on Saturday night; I had just showered and was in the mood to go out. Hammer, however, was on her way to some bicycle-event with Tad, so I decided to head to Cheers.
It wasn't going to be easy hanging out there with my new resolve, but I realized that what was depressing me wasn't so much that I couldn't drink, but that I couldn't go out on my own. I didn't want to lose that, so I decided to give it a try.
I had already told everyone over there that I am quitting. PumpedUp took a sip of my soda when he came in and laughed. I'm glad they're all making it easier for me by being lighthearted and okay about the whole thing. Especially as they let me drink diet coke for free (which I have some guilt issues about!).
Anyway, I ended up at the bar right next to CaliGirl-- the same girl who had stopped to say hi to me on the street a few hours earlier when I was stressing out on the phone with B. She asked me what was going on with me and what I was so stressed about earlier. I told her about quitting and about the on again off again cycle with Narc.
"It's just a lot that I have on my plate right now," I said.
She started to tell me about some of her own romantic troubles, her own drinking problems and her two suicide attempts. I noticed that she was still drinking, but after talking to her, I don't think that drinking is at the root of her problems. She only has a tolerance for 3-4 drinks. To me, that's crazy low. In any case, I was pretty shocked to hear about her situation, as she's always seemed like someone who has it "together." Then again, she told me that she dumped the abusive guy back in January and I've only known her since March. Who knows... maybe one of these days I'll come across to someone else as someone who has always had it "together." What a strange thought...
We talked for a long time and then EgyptianGirl came in and joined our conversation. Then two boys came in and one of them started flirting with me. CaliGirl poked me.
"He's cute!" she said. "Forget your heartache and go for him!"
I gave him a second glance. Not my type. Way too preppy and "twinkling" for me.
Anyway, TwinkleBoy told me that I shouldn't stand with my hand in my pockets because it made me look less confident.
Okay...
I took out my cell phone (because Hammer and I were intermittently texting) and he told me that he works for the metal company that imports the metal for the Razr keypads and that it's a top secret technology from Germany.
Okay...
He asked if I were going to sing anything. An old-time suitor, some guy named Chris (yes, I know-- I never bothered to give him a proper blog name!) showed up and asked me if I would sing Somewhere Over the Rainbow. I haven't sang that song at Cheers in over a year! It's a slow rendition and once PumpedUp told me that I was banned from singing any more "slow songs." Since then, I hadn't done it. But every time I see Chris, he asks for it. This time, TwinkleBoy confirmed it-- he wanted to hear it too. So I asked IrishBird to call me up for it. She did; I sang and sang well... But PumpedUp is right-- it is too slow for the bar. I felt like I brought the energy down. There were a few other people there, including another pseudo-suitor-- the guy who always sings the Thong Song. (Yeah... I know).
Meanwhile, no matter what, no matter what, no matter WHAT I did, I couldn't get my mind off Narc.
So I texted him at around 11:15 pm: You out & about tonight?
He wrote me back right away: Not sure yet.
My response: Well, let me know when you know... :)
Anyway, the night wore on, but as it neared 1:00 am, everyone around me started to appear drunk and it was making me cranky, to say the least. I figured I better take off to keep myself safe. I really did want to see Narc, though, and I hadn't heard back from him. I decided to give it one last shot.
So I wrote to him again: My party is breaking up so I'm headed home. Unless you want to hang out I'm gonna wind down for bed. So let me know sooner rather than later... Thanks. (12:49 am)
Ten minutes or so later, he wrote back: Was debating the Patriot, but it's already getting a bit late. Besides, you're still on the straight and narrow, non?
Hmmm... How to handle this one?
H: There are things to do besides drink, n'est pas? But if you really wanted to go there, I think I'm steady enough now to be able to stick to diet cokes w/o a prob... Whatever...
N: Don't want you being tempted! (And miserable and all...)
The next two texts were sent simultaneously:
H: I don't know... Maybe you're right that it's getting late & I should just get to bed soon...
N: Probably will just go to bed soon. Tired.
And then I wrote again: Me too... Don't want a sleep over?
N: If you like, though I have to get up fairly early
H: Me too. Going to LI tomorrow, so... not a prob.
N: K.
H: Will be there in 20... (1:27 am)
So, that's what it's like between us... Always this dance. He never extends more of himself than what is absolutely minimally necessary. That was a loaded interaction. (Can you sense everything that was going on there???) Everything is up for grabs right now. But I feel like everything real is spoken just under the surface. Do you see what I mean?
So, I headed down there and arrived just before 2:00 am. Narc was watching the Thin Red Line and was bored to tears. I joined him in his boredom and we started flipping through furniture catalogues. He wants to move everything around in his apartment and get an extra table at which he can "perch" while he writes. (He always says that-- he likes to "perch." I think it's the habit of spending too much time in bars. I'm a "percher" as well!). We talked about that for awhile and then watched part of Sliver on TV. (Anyone remember that god awful movie with Sharon Stone? I saw it in the theaters my freshman year of high school). At some point, my phone beeped. Who was it? (And yes, I think Narc found it curious that someone else texts me in the middle of the night!) It was CaliGirl. Weird!
She said: Call if you want to talk.
I answered: Thanks. That's very sweet of you. Maybe we can do dinner one of these days... :)
(She actually called me the next day, and left me a voice mail!)
Finally, at around 3:30, "Bed" was announced and "bed" was had. (And it was good.)
The next morning the alarm went off at 10:45 (Narc's idea of "early.") I had to get to the train station and he had to go down to Chinatown to find one of the only open banks to fix something having to do with a malfunctioning ATM card. I had to be out of there first, so I had to get dressed fast. Narc checked out the movie news on the internet and walked around naked. Then I was off.
Where was I going? To Long Island for my step-cousin's Bat Mitzvah. (She is my step-grandpa's biological granddaughter. I also have a lot of step-cousins through my stepfather.) This was a typical "Long Island Jewish" affair. If you don't know what that means, I don't have the energy to explain it right now. I could write an entire ethnographic study on the matter! But it was over the top, to put it mildly. I can't imagine how much the whole thing must have cost!
I had a great time at the party and danced up a storm, even though I towered the miniature thirteen year olds scuffling across the dance floor. One of the hired dancers kept coming up and trying to dance with me. It was a dancing-suitor! (Hammer is really getting to me with her terminology here!).
I was a little annoyed at BigSis and Bro-in-Law because they were drinking right next to me at the table, and while I was fine with the whole thing, the two of them make such a big deal about being "so supportive" of me right now, but obviously aren't willing to put themselves out at all. I'm certainly not going to ask them to either! I guess the reason it's really bothering me has to do with Bro-in-Law's upcoming birthday party. I told BigSis that I may or may not come depending on how I'm doing with my sobriety at that point. (Ugh! I hate that word-- "sobriety." It's much too lofty for me. I don't think I'll use it again.) Anyway, she said that she wants to be able to drink that night without "worrying about it," so maybe I shouldn't come. That really pissed me off. So, now for their sakes, I'm not supposed to come to the party? You'd think they'd be trying to make me feel better about this, not worse. Like I said-- it's fine with me if she drinks. But what bothers me is that she says it's all for my sake that she's concerned. If she really cared, she would have been more sensitive about it last night and she'd be happy to abstain for one party while I'm still working all this out.
Last night when I got back from the party, I was damned exhausted! I knew I'd have to wake up at 5:30 this morning, so I hit the sheets as early as I could.
Today there's a lot I'm working through in my head-- mostly thoughts about codependency and my relationships with B and Narc. And thoughts about control and emotional manipulation. I always feel like I have no control, but believe me-- I know I can be a master manipulator. I have B in my back pocket and always have. He and I both know it. And as for Narc? Well, it's not like with B, but he's still here, isn't he? And my dependence on the manufacture of drama... and having to feel needed to feel good... All of this is stuff I need to do a lot more thinking about.
So, that's it for now. Everything is in such transition that life almost feels like a dream... like it's not mine. Kudos to VJ for recognizing the source of my post-title.
Tonight it's goodbye to Jack, my love.
I'll check in with you all soon!
love,
h
Oh! PS: Guess who I got a voice mail from last night?
The Stallion!
Hey Hyde, How you doin'? It's the Stallion. Um, I'm gonna try to give you a call back a little later. I'm gonna actually be leaving town soon and I wanted to see... you know... come talk to you or something. Maybe we'll go out for lunch... you know.. be "day friends"... you know. Um... So, email me or I'll just email you. That's probably the best way to get a hold of me because I don't have a phone now. Because... I just don't. So I will talk to you later. Um... Alright, girl. Bye.
Hmmm....
It wasn't going to be easy hanging out there with my new resolve, but I realized that what was depressing me wasn't so much that I couldn't drink, but that I couldn't go out on my own. I didn't want to lose that, so I decided to give it a try.
I had already told everyone over there that I am quitting. PumpedUp took a sip of my soda when he came in and laughed. I'm glad they're all making it easier for me by being lighthearted and okay about the whole thing. Especially as they let me drink diet coke for free (which I have some guilt issues about!).
Anyway, I ended up at the bar right next to CaliGirl-- the same girl who had stopped to say hi to me on the street a few hours earlier when I was stressing out on the phone with B. She asked me what was going on with me and what I was so stressed about earlier. I told her about quitting and about the on again off again cycle with Narc.
"It's just a lot that I have on my plate right now," I said.
She started to tell me about some of her own romantic troubles, her own drinking problems and her two suicide attempts. I noticed that she was still drinking, but after talking to her, I don't think that drinking is at the root of her problems. She only has a tolerance for 3-4 drinks. To me, that's crazy low. In any case, I was pretty shocked to hear about her situation, as she's always seemed like someone who has it "together." Then again, she told me that she dumped the abusive guy back in January and I've only known her since March. Who knows... maybe one of these days I'll come across to someone else as someone who has always had it "together." What a strange thought...
We talked for a long time and then EgyptianGirl came in and joined our conversation. Then two boys came in and one of them started flirting with me. CaliGirl poked me.
"He's cute!" she said. "Forget your heartache and go for him!"
I gave him a second glance. Not my type. Way too preppy and "twinkling" for me.
Anyway, TwinkleBoy told me that I shouldn't stand with my hand in my pockets because it made me look less confident.
Okay...
I took out my cell phone (because Hammer and I were intermittently texting) and he told me that he works for the metal company that imports the metal for the Razr keypads and that it's a top secret technology from Germany.
Okay...
He asked if I were going to sing anything. An old-time suitor, some guy named Chris (yes, I know-- I never bothered to give him a proper blog name!) showed up and asked me if I would sing Somewhere Over the Rainbow. I haven't sang that song at Cheers in over a year! It's a slow rendition and once PumpedUp told me that I was banned from singing any more "slow songs." Since then, I hadn't done it. But every time I see Chris, he asks for it. This time, TwinkleBoy confirmed it-- he wanted to hear it too. So I asked IrishBird to call me up for it. She did; I sang and sang well... But PumpedUp is right-- it is too slow for the bar. I felt like I brought the energy down. There were a few other people there, including another pseudo-suitor-- the guy who always sings the Thong Song. (Yeah... I know).
Meanwhile, no matter what, no matter what, no matter WHAT I did, I couldn't get my mind off Narc.
So I texted him at around 11:15 pm: You out & about tonight?
He wrote me back right away: Not sure yet.
My response: Well, let me know when you know... :)
Anyway, the night wore on, but as it neared 1:00 am, everyone around me started to appear drunk and it was making me cranky, to say the least. I figured I better take off to keep myself safe. I really did want to see Narc, though, and I hadn't heard back from him. I decided to give it one last shot.
So I wrote to him again: My party is breaking up so I'm headed home. Unless you want to hang out I'm gonna wind down for bed. So let me know sooner rather than later... Thanks. (12:49 am)
Ten minutes or so later, he wrote back: Was debating the Patriot, but it's already getting a bit late. Besides, you're still on the straight and narrow, non?
Hmmm... How to handle this one?
H: There are things to do besides drink, n'est pas? But if you really wanted to go there, I think I'm steady enough now to be able to stick to diet cokes w/o a prob... Whatever...
N: Don't want you being tempted! (And miserable and all...)
The next two texts were sent simultaneously:
H: I don't know... Maybe you're right that it's getting late & I should just get to bed soon...
N: Probably will just go to bed soon. Tired.
And then I wrote again: Me too... Don't want a sleep over?
N: If you like, though I have to get up fairly early
H: Me too. Going to LI tomorrow, so... not a prob.
N: K.
H: Will be there in 20... (1:27 am)
So, that's what it's like between us... Always this dance. He never extends more of himself than what is absolutely minimally necessary. That was a loaded interaction. (Can you sense everything that was going on there???) Everything is up for grabs right now. But I feel like everything real is spoken just under the surface. Do you see what I mean?
So, I headed down there and arrived just before 2:00 am. Narc was watching the Thin Red Line and was bored to tears. I joined him in his boredom and we started flipping through furniture catalogues. He wants to move everything around in his apartment and get an extra table at which he can "perch" while he writes. (He always says that-- he likes to "perch." I think it's the habit of spending too much time in bars. I'm a "percher" as well!). We talked about that for awhile and then watched part of Sliver on TV. (Anyone remember that god awful movie with Sharon Stone? I saw it in the theaters my freshman year of high school). At some point, my phone beeped. Who was it? (And yes, I think Narc found it curious that someone else texts me in the middle of the night!) It was CaliGirl. Weird!
She said: Call if you want to talk.
I answered: Thanks. That's very sweet of you. Maybe we can do dinner one of these days... :)
(She actually called me the next day, and left me a voice mail!)
Finally, at around 3:30, "Bed" was announced and "bed" was had. (And it was good.)
The next morning the alarm went off at 10:45 (Narc's idea of "early.") I had to get to the train station and he had to go down to Chinatown to find one of the only open banks to fix something having to do with a malfunctioning ATM card. I had to be out of there first, so I had to get dressed fast. Narc checked out the movie news on the internet and walked around naked. Then I was off.
Where was I going? To Long Island for my step-cousin's Bat Mitzvah. (She is my step-grandpa's biological granddaughter. I also have a lot of step-cousins through my stepfather.) This was a typical "Long Island Jewish" affair. If you don't know what that means, I don't have the energy to explain it right now. I could write an entire ethnographic study on the matter! But it was over the top, to put it mildly. I can't imagine how much the whole thing must have cost!
I had a great time at the party and danced up a storm, even though I towered the miniature thirteen year olds scuffling across the dance floor. One of the hired dancers kept coming up and trying to dance with me. It was a dancing-suitor! (Hammer is really getting to me with her terminology here!).
I was a little annoyed at BigSis and Bro-in-Law because they were drinking right next to me at the table, and while I was fine with the whole thing, the two of them make such a big deal about being "so supportive" of me right now, but obviously aren't willing to put themselves out at all. I'm certainly not going to ask them to either! I guess the reason it's really bothering me has to do with Bro-in-Law's upcoming birthday party. I told BigSis that I may or may not come depending on how I'm doing with my sobriety at that point. (Ugh! I hate that word-- "sobriety." It's much too lofty for me. I don't think I'll use it again.) Anyway, she said that she wants to be able to drink that night without "worrying about it," so maybe I shouldn't come. That really pissed me off. So, now for their sakes, I'm not supposed to come to the party? You'd think they'd be trying to make me feel better about this, not worse. Like I said-- it's fine with me if she drinks. But what bothers me is that she says it's all for my sake that she's concerned. If she really cared, she would have been more sensitive about it last night and she'd be happy to abstain for one party while I'm still working all this out.
Last night when I got back from the party, I was damned exhausted! I knew I'd have to wake up at 5:30 this morning, so I hit the sheets as early as I could.
Today there's a lot I'm working through in my head-- mostly thoughts about codependency and my relationships with B and Narc. And thoughts about control and emotional manipulation. I always feel like I have no control, but believe me-- I know I can be a master manipulator. I have B in my back pocket and always have. He and I both know it. And as for Narc? Well, it's not like with B, but he's still here, isn't he? And my dependence on the manufacture of drama... and having to feel needed to feel good... All of this is stuff I need to do a lot more thinking about.
So, that's it for now. Everything is in such transition that life almost feels like a dream... like it's not mine. Kudos to VJ for recognizing the source of my post-title.
Tonight it's goodbye to Jack, my love.
I'll check in with you all soon!
love,
h
Oh! PS: Guess who I got a voice mail from last night?
The Stallion!
Hey Hyde, How you doin'? It's the Stallion. Um, I'm gonna try to give you a call back a little later. I'm gonna actually be leaving town soon and I wanted to see... you know... come talk to you or something. Maybe we'll go out for lunch... you know.. be "day friends"... you know. Um... So, email me or I'll just email you. That's probably the best way to get a hold of me because I don't have a phone now. Because... I just don't. So I will talk to you later. Um... Alright, girl. Bye.
Hmmm....
Manic Monday
I'm in a rush to an appointment, but I just had to add this... Before I finish my "Web of Dreams" post, I wanted to tell you all that NDN is coming back from LA today where he was excited to spot an actual "hobbit."
AND....
I don't know whether to be more excited or more devestated, but Season 5 of "24" is coming to a close tonight. The suspense is unbearable. And what will I do without Jack until next January???
Season 5 was kick-ass. I couldn't have asked for more! So, hats off to everyone over at "24."
And like I said... I'll finish the last post later this afternoon...
love, h
(From left to right: Tony Almeida, Edgar Stiles, Bill Buchanan, Chloe O'Brian, JACK BAUER, Audrey Raines, Curtis Manning, Martha Logan, Charles Logan)
Web of Dreams: Part I
It's not even 7:00 am, and yet here I am in my office, eating eggs and listening to Tammy Wynette. ("If you think I love you now... I've just started!")
This weekend was interesting for me... a learning experience of sorts. I had seen Narc all week long leading up to the weekend, which had me in a very particular sort of emotional state. To make matters worse, I hadn't made any real fixed weekend plans, and I am still resolved not to drink. All in all, it was a troublesome mix.
On Friday the city alternated between thunderstorms and sunshine (sort of like my mood). I stayed home the entire day, intent on doing my laundry, but really getting very little of anything done. I wanted to see Narc and he invited me over early in the day, but when I told him I had to clean my house first, he replied with: Will let you know then. That, of course, had me on edge all day.
Would he? When? And if not, was he mad at me for not coming earlier when he wanted me to?
That's just the kind of thinking I have to get over!
Anyway... He didn't call. I stayed up late that night, anxious, depressed and playing Bejeweled on my cell phone.
I wrote to him at 12:46 am: What are you up to?
And again at 1:16 am: Anyway, if you think you might want to meet up tonight, let me know either way by 2:00. That's when I'm headed to bed. Hope you're having a good night...
Not a word...
Again, I slept fitfully and depressedly. I woke up at least five or six times in the night. Finally, at 9:00 am I crawled out of bed and posted here. Then I got back into bed. B called me at around 11:30.
"Hey, H! Want to get lunch?"
"Ok!"
I met him at Dag Hammarskjold Plaza where there were a lot of Turks setting up for the Turkish Day Parade. We ate some Chinese food and talked shop-- his dissertation, my trying to stay sober, his anxiety over moving in with Drippy, my own frustrations of the heart, etc.
After lunch he asked me if I wanted to walk him to Barnes & Noble at the Citigroup Center. He wanted to buy some new fantasy or science fiction reading. I agreed. Wandering through the fiction section, I stumbled onto V.C. Andrews. I read many of her novels when I was just eleven or so, and remember them as clear as day. A few of them had a particularly powerful impact on me, and I can't imagine that being a good thing in any way at all (for those of you familiar with the creepy brand of rape and incest woven into her stories!). One of the books had a sex/rape scene in it that I must have pre-pubescently read and re-read a hundred times. I picked up the book and still knew which page to turn to! Anyway, I bought two of the books. Re-reading them now (as schlock literature) may have an interesting effect.
After that, B and I parted ways and I set off for home. I read for a little while (not VC Andrews, but Susskind's "Perfume,") and then I started to get depressed again. I was sinking fast. I watched some television, but once I started that, I couldn't pull myself up off the couch. It was as if I were sucked down into some whirlpool of listlessness and ennui. It was only getting worse. And I felt sick that Narc hadn't called me the night before. And I felt sick for feeling sick about that. And I wanted to drink.
I spent a long time talking to Hammer online. She invited me out with her that night, even though she had plans with Tad. She just didn't want me to be tempted to drink. I told her I was going to shower and schminken first and would check in with her. So I walked to Duane Reade to buy new razors and shaving cream (I left mine at Narc's) and cigarettes, which I proceeded to chain smoke. For a while I stood outside my building, nervously smoking, chatting with B on the phone when CaliGirl (a Cheers regular I've known since March or so) walked by with her dog. She came over to try to say hello to me, but I indicated that I was on the phone.
"Is everything okay?" she asked.
"Well, sort of... I'm just a little anxious right now. I mean... I'm fine. I'm just--"
"Well, let me know if you need to talk," she said. "You still have my number, right?"
"Um, yeah."
I was so jittery, the phone was shaking in my hands. I just really wanted a drink. I said goodbye to her, stamped out my cigarette and went back upstairs to my apartment. I wanted to go out OUT!!! O-O-O-O-UT!!!! (As you read in my last post).
The shower seemed to help a little though. I took an extra long time drying my hair and applying my makeup. At around 10:00, I was ready to go.
Anyway, I have to go give a final exam, so I'll finish this post later.
To be continued...
This weekend was interesting for me... a learning experience of sorts. I had seen Narc all week long leading up to the weekend, which had me in a very particular sort of emotional state. To make matters worse, I hadn't made any real fixed weekend plans, and I am still resolved not to drink. All in all, it was a troublesome mix.
On Friday the city alternated between thunderstorms and sunshine (sort of like my mood). I stayed home the entire day, intent on doing my laundry, but really getting very little of anything done. I wanted to see Narc and he invited me over early in the day, but when I told him I had to clean my house first, he replied with: Will let you know then. That, of course, had me on edge all day.
Would he? When? And if not, was he mad at me for not coming earlier when he wanted me to?
That's just the kind of thinking I have to get over!
Anyway... He didn't call. I stayed up late that night, anxious, depressed and playing Bejeweled on my cell phone.
I wrote to him at 12:46 am: What are you up to?
And again at 1:16 am: Anyway, if you think you might want to meet up tonight, let me know either way by 2:00. That's when I'm headed to bed. Hope you're having a good night...
Not a word...
Again, I slept fitfully and depressedly. I woke up at least five or six times in the night. Finally, at 9:00 am I crawled out of bed and posted here. Then I got back into bed. B called me at around 11:30.
"Hey, H! Want to get lunch?"
"Ok!"
I met him at Dag Hammarskjold Plaza where there were a lot of Turks setting up for the Turkish Day Parade. We ate some Chinese food and talked shop-- his dissertation, my trying to stay sober, his anxiety over moving in with Drippy, my own frustrations of the heart, etc.
After lunch he asked me if I wanted to walk him to Barnes & Noble at the Citigroup Center. He wanted to buy some new fantasy or science fiction reading. I agreed. Wandering through the fiction section, I stumbled onto V.C. Andrews. I read many of her novels when I was just eleven or so, and remember them as clear as day. A few of them had a particularly powerful impact on me, and I can't imagine that being a good thing in any way at all (for those of you familiar with the creepy brand of rape and incest woven into her stories!). One of the books had a sex/rape scene in it that I must have pre-pubescently read and re-read a hundred times. I picked up the book and still knew which page to turn to! Anyway, I bought two of the books. Re-reading them now (as schlock literature) may have an interesting effect.
After that, B and I parted ways and I set off for home. I read for a little while (not VC Andrews, but Susskind's "Perfume,") and then I started to get depressed again. I was sinking fast. I watched some television, but once I started that, I couldn't pull myself up off the couch. It was as if I were sucked down into some whirlpool of listlessness and ennui. It was only getting worse. And I felt sick that Narc hadn't called me the night before. And I felt sick for feeling sick about that. And I wanted to drink.
I spent a long time talking to Hammer online. She invited me out with her that night, even though she had plans with Tad. She just didn't want me to be tempted to drink. I told her I was going to shower and schminken first and would check in with her. So I walked to Duane Reade to buy new razors and shaving cream (I left mine at Narc's) and cigarettes, which I proceeded to chain smoke. For a while I stood outside my building, nervously smoking, chatting with B on the phone when CaliGirl (a Cheers regular I've known since March or so) walked by with her dog. She came over to try to say hello to me, but I indicated that I was on the phone.
"Is everything okay?" she asked.
"Well, sort of... I'm just a little anxious right now. I mean... I'm fine. I'm just--"
"Well, let me know if you need to talk," she said. "You still have my number, right?"
"Um, yeah."
I was so jittery, the phone was shaking in my hands. I just really wanted a drink. I said goodbye to her, stamped out my cigarette and went back upstairs to my apartment. I wanted to go out OUT!!! O-O-O-O-UT!!!! (As you read in my last post).
The shower seemed to help a little though. I took an extra long time drying my hair and applying my makeup. At around 10:00, I was ready to go.
Anyway, I have to go give a final exam, so I'll finish this post later.
To be continued...
Saturday, May 20, 2006
No Good...
I've spent most of the day today like a lump on my couch.
This is no good.
I feel anxious, immoblized, depressed.
I am unmotivated.
Why didn't he call me last night?
Because, Hyde! That's the way it is. Stop caring so much!
I can't... I just DO care. And I can't help but feel like I screwed something up. Again.
I want him to call me.
I want to go out tonight.
I want to go out; I want to go out; I WANT TO GO OUT!!!
I know it would give me energy. I know it would make me feel better.
But these thoughts are no good for me.
I can't see feeling any better unless I hear from Narc.
Or unless I go "O-O-OUT TONIGHT!"
Like I said... this is no good...
I feel a little sick.
-h-
This is no good.
I feel anxious, immoblized, depressed.
I am unmotivated.
Why didn't he call me last night?
Because, Hyde! That's the way it is. Stop caring so much!
I can't... I just DO care. And I can't help but feel like I screwed something up. Again.
I want him to call me.
I want to go out tonight.
I want to go out; I want to go out; I WANT TO GO OUT!!!
I know it would give me energy. I know it would make me feel better.
But these thoughts are no good for me.
I can't see feeling any better unless I hear from Narc.
Or unless I go "O-O-OUT TONIGHT!"
Like I said... this is no good...
I feel a little sick.
-h-
Friday, May 19, 2006
Is Something Wrong?
I sat down on my couch at 4:00 pm today to watch Law & Order and I only just woke up. Am I getting sick? It is dark out now, and there are still rumbles of thunder in the distance. Mr. Rochester is wide-eyed. Narc texted me at around 3:00: Bit of thunder, yes. Poor Roch! Perhaps we will get some lightning as well. (I'm pretty sure I won't hear from him again tonight). Hammer is at MiniMan's party tonight. I feel like I'm in limbo. Something strange... Am I getting sick? I want lightning. I want to see the skies shake. I'm looking out the window now at the city lights. Just past Salome's snake-like hair, cupping the dripping head of John the Baptist.
-h-
-h-
More of the Same?
I don't know why I'm awake right now. I really don't want to be. It's the first Friday I haven't had to teach in a really long time, and I wanted to sleep in. I didn't even set my alarm! Yet, here I am at 9:00 am, awake and posting. Maybe I'll go back to bed after this (a la Hammer).
One of the reasons I think I'm awake is that I had an uneasy sleep last night. I was so exhausted that I was collapsing into bed at only 11:30 when I got a text from Narc telling me that he was at the Patriot,
"Dying..."
I asked him what was wrong and told him I was going to bed. I didn't hear back.
After that, I could only manage a very light sleep. I kept waking up and checking my cell phone. He wrote back an hour or two later and basically said that he was "still dying..."
I fell back asleep. But I kept waking up.
At 3:45, I sent him a text: Feeling better?
He didn't write back, so I guess he had managed to go to bed himself. I felt guilty and uneasy. I still do. I feel like I should have done something else last night. But I was so fucking tired. I was literally falling asleep on my feet as I washed up for bed. What else could I have done? Why do I still feel like this? I'm hoping that he calls me today. I feel like I need to "make up for last night." Isn't that nuts? Or am I just the definition of "codependent?"
Anyway, as for "Happy Hyde," I guess I'm still okay, although some of the sparkle, the edge has worn off. I got very little sleep this week and saw a hell of a lot of Narc:
Sunday night: 4 hrs. of sleep
Monday night: Slept at Narc's place/5 hrs. of sleep
Tuesday night: 4 hrs. of sleep
Wednesday night: Spent the day and then slept at Narc's place/ 5.5 hrs. of sleep
Thursday night: Finally! 9 hrs. of sleep!
So... Like I said in my last past (the one before Philip Seymour Hoffman), on Wednesday morning I went to see Narc after teaching.
He opened the door all scruffy and naked and hungover and led me back to bed. He said he needed to sleep for another hour or so. I didn't mind, as I was exhausted, so I crawled into bed with him for a nap. Then, like I said... sex, sex, sex.... and finally, around 2:00 we had to get up. Why? We heard a buzz at the door.
That's the maid!" Narc exclaimed.
"Clothes!"
I threw my clothes on, as did he.
"We have to get out of here," he said.
"I don't like to be home while she cleans up."
"Okay..."
Could it be? Bourgeois guilt?
"Mary Ann's," he announced. (That's the Mexican place not far from his apartment.)
"We need strawberry margaritas."
"Yeah, but I'm not drinking Narc, remember?"
"Oh, c'mon... This isn't drinking. It's brunch. And besides, margaritas aren't the problem."
"I'm just trying to stick to my 'diet,' that's all. I lost six pounds already. It's working. If it works, it works, right?"
"It's all the sugar in whiskey that's doing it to you. A margarita won't hurt."
What, so frozen strawberry margaritas have no sugar? This was ridiculous.
"Whatever... I'm just going to stick with my diet cokes for now."
I don't think he liked that answer, but he accepted it.
So, we went to Mary Ann's and sat where, of all place? At the bar. It was okay, though.
Narc kept texting people over lunch. He was upset that he had been turned down the night before at the velvet rope outside The Double Seven, even though he knows a girl that bartends there. I could see it already. This girl is the new Exhibitionist/PopStarChick. The one Narc is going to chase after. For those "in the know," the Double Seven staff was trained by Sasha Petraske of Milk & Honey fame (they only hire the absolutely hottest bartenders) and they've also got a new place (a little more low brow) on the Lower East, called the East Side Company Bar. All of this stuff interests me very little, as I can't stand the scene, but Narc just had to get in touch with this BartenderBabe over lunch. Then, of course, he had to text PopStarChick, as she loves strawberry margaritas and he had to call ModelChick (his ex-girlfriend) to make plans to go to the movies that night.
Oh yeah. This is Narc, I remembered. This is why I can't do this.
I flipped through a copy of the New York Times that someone had left behind.
When he was through with his phone calls, Hammer texted me. She was feeling down.
"You should invite her out," Narc suggested. "Tell her I need a new drinking buddy."
Could he make a more pointed remark?
I did as he asked. Hammer, of course, responded by asking if I were okay and if my priority list was still in order. I assured her that it was. She said she couldn't come out because she was in the library.
"Ugh. Tell her she's a wanker," Narc said.
I passed the message along.
The rest of the afternoon's conversation was strange. We talked about Narc trying to make his new movie. I tried to tell him a little about the fight I had with my sisters on the anniversary of my dad's death (I don't know why). And we talked about how Narc thinks that women are "whores." It turns out that ModelChick had agreed to get back together with her most recent ex-boyfriend "just because he offered to take her to Bermuda for the weekend."
"Tell me she's not a whore!" he said.
"I don't know her, Narc. I can't say... Maybe she's just lonely."
"We're all fucking lonely," he said. "She just doesn't have any character, that's all. I mean, seriously... just when I thought my opinion of women couldn't possibly get any lower!"
"Are you still angry at her?" I asked.
"Why?"
"For the breakup and all?"
"Because she cheated on me?"
"Yeah."
"No..." He stopped to think about it. "No. Not at all. That was so long ago. I'm more angry at myself. I mean-- she is who she is! I knew she was shallow when I got together with her. That's her nature. I should have known that if she went off to Italy she was going to fuck some guy. If I'm angry with anyone, I'm angry with myself for expecting anything more from her. I mean look at it-- she's changed her lifestyle now. When I met her, she was all whiskey and blow. Now she works in a bank and does yoga. But she's still the same old shallow ModelChick. And she's still acting like a whore."
His answer made me sad.
"I don't know where you meet them..." was all I could manage to say.
My phone was sitting out on the bar. It was covered in a leather case (as I had broken the previous phone twice) and was looking all grimy.
"Look at your fucking 'Mad Max' phone," he said, changing the subject. "Aren't you due for a new one? We need to go get you your new pink Razr!"
"Ok."
"And after that, it's home to clean sheets. We need to break them in."
"Ok!"
So we went to the Verizon store and I got my new phone. And then we went back to his place and "broke in" the clean sheets. We settled in on the couch to watch the previous night's American Idol, but before long it was 6:15 and I had to take off for rehearsal.
**************
I just took an hour long break from writing this post to crawl back into bed and then talk to Hammer on the phone. There are enormous claps of thunder outside!
**************
Anyway... where was I? Oh yes-- my choir rehearsal. I didn't get home from rehearsal until 10:45. It was just then that I got a text from Narc! Need company! Come over? he wrote. Ok! I called him back and told him I could be there by midnight.
NDN "knocked me up" to give me a belated birthday present. He got me some bubble bath and a salt soak, all to help me "decompress," as I'm into the long baths these days. (Thanks, NDN!).
After that, I had taped American Idol for IrishBird so I stopped over at Cheers to give it to her before heading down to see Narc again.
A fairly new regular, EgyptianGirl was there, and IrishBird was saying how all three of us should have a "girls night" some time. Maybe... EgyptianGirl kind of annoys me. I feel like once she starts talking I can never end the conversation with her. Maybe it was just that I was particularly in a rush on Wednesday. Even though I had spent the whole day with him, I was anxious to get back to Narc.
I brought him some half baked ice cream, and when I arrived we settled in to watch the Idol results show. Then I had to take a shower while he watched the beginning of Boston Legal. He was frustrated with how long it took me to dry my hair. (Flash, weren't you too?) It was all so strangely domestic though...
Then more sex, and to bed at around 3:00. Sex has been different lately. I don't want to go into detail, but it is not our usual...
Anyway, while we were drifting off to sleep, I heard my cell phone beep with a text message in the next room.
"Don't get it," Narc said. "It's probably some drunk dialer."
"No... what if it's an emergency?"
"If it's an emergency, they would call and not text!"
I lay there for a while, but I am my mother's daughter... I had to get up and check it. It was Hammer with a Mohawk drama. She seemed okay, so it would be dealt with in the morning.
So... that was Wednesday.
On Thursday I had some business to attend to in the morning and then I briefly met up with my sister before meeting B at the movies to see Mission Impossible III. I was excited to see the movie mostly for Philip Seymour Hoffman (with a wink and a shout out to Hammer!) and I was pleased to find that Jonathan Rhys-Meyers was in the movie too. I've had a crush on him ever since I saw him play Elvis in that TV movie (pictured to the left!)
The movie was a typical summer blockbuster-- all action and eye candy and very little plot, but B and I both enjoyed it.
Afterwards, I stopped off in Borders to pick up a book that Narc recommended-- Perfume : The Story of a Murderer by Patrick Susskind. It's about a guy who has an extraordinary sense of smell and murders virgins to make perfume out of them.
"It's twisted. You'll love it," Narc said.
(Has anyone else read it?)
One of the reasons I think I'm awake is that I had an uneasy sleep last night. I was so exhausted that I was collapsing into bed at only 11:30 when I got a text from Narc telling me that he was at the Patriot,
"Dying..."
I asked him what was wrong and told him I was going to bed. I didn't hear back.
After that, I could only manage a very light sleep. I kept waking up and checking my cell phone. He wrote back an hour or two later and basically said that he was "still dying..."
I fell back asleep. But I kept waking up.
At 3:45, I sent him a text: Feeling better?
He didn't write back, so I guess he had managed to go to bed himself. I felt guilty and uneasy. I still do. I feel like I should have done something else last night. But I was so fucking tired. I was literally falling asleep on my feet as I washed up for bed. What else could I have done? Why do I still feel like this? I'm hoping that he calls me today. I feel like I need to "make up for last night." Isn't that nuts? Or am I just the definition of "codependent?"
Anyway, as for "Happy Hyde," I guess I'm still okay, although some of the sparkle, the edge has worn off. I got very little sleep this week and saw a hell of a lot of Narc:
Sunday night: 4 hrs. of sleep
Monday night: Slept at Narc's place/5 hrs. of sleep
Tuesday night: 4 hrs. of sleep
Wednesday night: Spent the day and then slept at Narc's place/ 5.5 hrs. of sleep
Thursday night: Finally! 9 hrs. of sleep!
So... Like I said in my last past (the one before Philip Seymour Hoffman), on Wednesday morning I went to see Narc after teaching.
He opened the door all scruffy and naked and hungover and led me back to bed. He said he needed to sleep for another hour or so. I didn't mind, as I was exhausted, so I crawled into bed with him for a nap. Then, like I said... sex, sex, sex.... and finally, around 2:00 we had to get up. Why? We heard a buzz at the door.
That's the maid!" Narc exclaimed.
"Clothes!"
I threw my clothes on, as did he.
"We have to get out of here," he said.
"I don't like to be home while she cleans up."
"Okay..."
Could it be? Bourgeois guilt?
"Mary Ann's," he announced. (That's the Mexican place not far from his apartment.)
"We need strawberry margaritas."
"Yeah, but I'm not drinking Narc, remember?"
"Oh, c'mon... This isn't drinking. It's brunch. And besides, margaritas aren't the problem."
"I'm just trying to stick to my 'diet,' that's all. I lost six pounds already. It's working. If it works, it works, right?"
"It's all the sugar in whiskey that's doing it to you. A margarita won't hurt."
What, so frozen strawberry margaritas have no sugar? This was ridiculous.
"Whatever... I'm just going to stick with my diet cokes for now."
I don't think he liked that answer, but he accepted it.
So, we went to Mary Ann's and sat where, of all place? At the bar. It was okay, though.
Narc kept texting people over lunch. He was upset that he had been turned down the night before at the velvet rope outside The Double Seven, even though he knows a girl that bartends there. I could see it already. This girl is the new Exhibitionist/PopStarChick. The one Narc is going to chase after. For those "in the know," the Double Seven staff was trained by Sasha Petraske of Milk & Honey fame (they only hire the absolutely hottest bartenders) and they've also got a new place (a little more low brow) on the Lower East, called the East Side Company Bar. All of this stuff interests me very little, as I can't stand the scene, but Narc just had to get in touch with this BartenderBabe over lunch. Then, of course, he had to text PopStarChick, as she loves strawberry margaritas and he had to call ModelChick (his ex-girlfriend) to make plans to go to the movies that night.
Oh yeah. This is Narc, I remembered. This is why I can't do this.
I flipped through a copy of the New York Times that someone had left behind.
When he was through with his phone calls, Hammer texted me. She was feeling down.
"You should invite her out," Narc suggested. "Tell her I need a new drinking buddy."
Could he make a more pointed remark?
I did as he asked. Hammer, of course, responded by asking if I were okay and if my priority list was still in order. I assured her that it was. She said she couldn't come out because she was in the library.
"Ugh. Tell her she's a wanker," Narc said.
I passed the message along.
The rest of the afternoon's conversation was strange. We talked about Narc trying to make his new movie. I tried to tell him a little about the fight I had with my sisters on the anniversary of my dad's death (I don't know why). And we talked about how Narc thinks that women are "whores." It turns out that ModelChick had agreed to get back together with her most recent ex-boyfriend "just because he offered to take her to Bermuda for the weekend."
"Tell me she's not a whore!" he said.
"I don't know her, Narc. I can't say... Maybe she's just lonely."
"We're all fucking lonely," he said. "She just doesn't have any character, that's all. I mean, seriously... just when I thought my opinion of women couldn't possibly get any lower!"
"Are you still angry at her?" I asked.
"Why?"
"For the breakup and all?"
"Because she cheated on me?"
"Yeah."
"No..." He stopped to think about it. "No. Not at all. That was so long ago. I'm more angry at myself. I mean-- she is who she is! I knew she was shallow when I got together with her. That's her nature. I should have known that if she went off to Italy she was going to fuck some guy. If I'm angry with anyone, I'm angry with myself for expecting anything more from her. I mean look at it-- she's changed her lifestyle now. When I met her, she was all whiskey and blow. Now she works in a bank and does yoga. But she's still the same old shallow ModelChick. And she's still acting like a whore."
His answer made me sad.
"I don't know where you meet them..." was all I could manage to say.
My phone was sitting out on the bar. It was covered in a leather case (as I had broken the previous phone twice) and was looking all grimy.
"Look at your fucking 'Mad Max' phone," he said, changing the subject. "Aren't you due for a new one? We need to go get you your new pink Razr!"
"Ok."
"And after that, it's home to clean sheets. We need to break them in."
"Ok!"
So we went to the Verizon store and I got my new phone. And then we went back to his place and "broke in" the clean sheets. We settled in on the couch to watch the previous night's American Idol, but before long it was 6:15 and I had to take off for rehearsal.
**************
I just took an hour long break from writing this post to crawl back into bed and then talk to Hammer on the phone. There are enormous claps of thunder outside!
**************
Anyway... where was I? Oh yes-- my choir rehearsal. I didn't get home from rehearsal until 10:45. It was just then that I got a text from Narc! Need company! Come over? he wrote. Ok! I called him back and told him I could be there by midnight.
NDN "knocked me up" to give me a belated birthday present. He got me some bubble bath and a salt soak, all to help me "decompress," as I'm into the long baths these days. (Thanks, NDN!).
After that, I had taped American Idol for IrishBird so I stopped over at Cheers to give it to her before heading down to see Narc again.
A fairly new regular, EgyptianGirl was there, and IrishBird was saying how all three of us should have a "girls night" some time. Maybe... EgyptianGirl kind of annoys me. I feel like once she starts talking I can never end the conversation with her. Maybe it was just that I was particularly in a rush on Wednesday. Even though I had spent the whole day with him, I was anxious to get back to Narc.
I brought him some half baked ice cream, and when I arrived we settled in to watch the Idol results show. Then I had to take a shower while he watched the beginning of Boston Legal. He was frustrated with how long it took me to dry my hair. (Flash, weren't you too?) It was all so strangely domestic though...
Then more sex, and to bed at around 3:00. Sex has been different lately. I don't want to go into detail, but it is not our usual...
Anyway, while we were drifting off to sleep, I heard my cell phone beep with a text message in the next room.
"Don't get it," Narc said. "It's probably some drunk dialer."
"No... what if it's an emergency?"
"If it's an emergency, they would call and not text!"
I lay there for a while, but I am my mother's daughter... I had to get up and check it. It was Hammer with a Mohawk drama. She seemed okay, so it would be dealt with in the morning.
So... that was Wednesday.
On Thursday I had some business to attend to in the morning and then I briefly met up with my sister before meeting B at the movies to see Mission Impossible III. I was excited to see the movie mostly for Philip Seymour Hoffman (with a wink and a shout out to Hammer!) and I was pleased to find that Jonathan Rhys-Meyers was in the movie too. I've had a crush on him ever since I saw him play Elvis in that TV movie (pictured to the left!)The movie was a typical summer blockbuster-- all action and eye candy and very little plot, but B and I both enjoyed it.
Afterwards, I stopped off in Borders to pick up a book that Narc recommended-- Perfume : The Story of a Murderer by Patrick Susskind. It's about a guy who has an extraordinary sense of smell and murders virgins to make perfume out of them.
"It's twisted. You'll love it," Narc said.
(Has anyone else read it?)
It turns out that Tom Twyker is doing the movie set for release in December...
Anyway, after that, I came home depressedly. I was anxious to have nothing planned for the evening. So I just watched some TV and collapsed into bed. I really needed the sleep.
Narc texted me at around 11:30: Patriot. Dying...
H: Why dying? I'm exhausted. Just crawled into bed... How'd it go w/ the writing? (PS: You're right. It IS easy to text with this phone!)
He wrote me again at 1:00 am, but I was already asleep. Like I said, it was a fitful sleep. I kept nervously waking up and checking my phone.
This morning, there were more texts exchanged:
H: How was the rest of your night? I went to bed SO early. Today just cleaning house, etc. So let me know if you want to hang later. May be on LI Sat night and Sun...
N: Ugh...
H: What happened? Call me if you want... :)
N: Nah. Nothing big. Just can't seem to get out of bed...
H: Is it thundering loud by you too? Today is def a stay in bed kind of day...
N: Was thundering a while ago. No longer. Can drop by if you want...
H: Yes, would love to but must do laundry. Will you be around in a few hrs? What's your plan?
N: Eh, lounging about. Must meet PopStarChick later to scan and print a few things for her artist visa app. Can come now and do laundry later...
H: What time are you meeting her?
N: Few hours. 4 or so.
I haven't written back yet. I don't know what to do. This is painful though.
Well, I guess that's it for now. In any case, whether I do laundry or see him, I at least have to get dressed. And while I started this post at 9:00 am, it's now noon. Time to get going with my day.
later...
-h-
PS: I am so shakey right now!
I just wrote back: I am not even dressed & sort of in cleaning mode right now. Why don't we just meet up later? After you help PopStarChick?
He said: Will let you know later.
I said: Ok.
Like I just said to Hammer: It had to be done. I can't go there for 2 hours and then get kicked out. It would suck too much.
-h-
Thursday, May 18, 2006
Wednesday, May 17, 2006
A Day in the Life
This morning I got up and taught my last class of the semester.
Then I went to "wake Narc up."
Then we had sex, sex, sex.
Then we had to leave the apartment because his maid was coming.
We went to eat Mexican food.
He drank Margaritas and I didn't.
We had some strange conversation.
Then we went and got me a pink razr phone.
He took it out of my hand and set the wallpaper.
He told me he wants his ringtone to be Zarathustra.
Then we went back to his place and watched last night's Idol.
Then we had sex, sex, sex.
Then I went to choir rehearsal. It was a Russian choir singing an Italian opera in French-- one based on a Greek tragedy.
Then I got home and had a text from Narc. He wants me to come over now. Why? Probably for some more sex, sex, sex.
My anticipated arrival at his place? In an hour, maybe.
Hammer has a date tonight too.
Les girls are having fun...
love,
h
Then I went to "wake Narc up."
Then we had sex, sex, sex.
Then we had to leave the apartment because his maid was coming.
We went to eat Mexican food.
He drank Margaritas and I didn't.
We had some strange conversation.
Then we went and got me a pink razr phone.
He took it out of my hand and set the wallpaper.
He told me he wants his ringtone to be Zarathustra.
Then we went back to his place and watched last night's Idol.
Then we had sex, sex, sex.
Then I went to choir rehearsal. It was a Russian choir singing an Italian opera in French-- one based on a Greek tragedy.
Then I got home and had a text from Narc. He wants me to come over now. Why? Probably for some more sex, sex, sex.
My anticipated arrival at his place? In an hour, maybe.
Hammer has a date tonight too.
Les girls are having fun...
love,
h
The All New "Jack and Diet"
On Monday night, I was filled with Jack and Diet! Not my usual "Jack Daniels" and Diet Coke, but instead, "Jack Bauer" and Diet Coke. It was all hosted by Hammer. I have to say-- Jack Bauer is equally intoxicating and hangover free!
I spent a lot of time at Hammer's place this weekend-- Saturday night, Sunday night and then Monday night! (We had a lot of "24" catch up to do!). While I was there, I got those texts from Narc and I'm grateful I had Hammer to help me through them. If I were alone, I might have been tempted/pressured into meeting him at the Patriot. Hammer helped me stay rational and in line with my "priorites." I am sticking to my list of priorities come hell or high water. I am always so scared that if I don't do what he wants, he's not going to want to see me. (I can hear my therapist now-- "Then, what are you holding on to, Hyde?!?!?") But this time, I stuck to my guns, and in the end, he agreed to meet me at his place. It was funny, though... during that whole text drama, Hammer's pilot suitor was instant messaging her and I was trying to maintain a conversation with him.
"Just watch," Hammer warned. "He'll try to turn the talk to sex at any chance he gets!"
That, he did.
Anyway, I got to Narc's lobby at around 12:45 am, Monday night. The doorman, Chris, buzzed him. He didn't answer.
"Did you see him just come back?" I asked. "He should have just gotten back from the bar."
"No. He hasn't been in or out since I've been on here at 11:00," he told me.
"What?!?"
I called Narc. He was still at the Patriot.
"Just meet me here," he said. "The basketball game is tied up and we're all waiting for it to finish. A bunch of people bet on the game, and I have to wait it out. Come here."
Narc doesn't watch sports. I'd be surprised if he could name five basketball teams!
"I'm not coming there," I said. "I'll wait for you in your lobby. Just hurry, okay?"
I sat down on the lobby sofa with a huff and called Hammer. When I hung up, the doorman raised an eyebrow at me.
"What's up?" he asked.
"I'm quitting drinking," I said. "And he wants me to meet him at the bar. I don't want to. I just hope he shows up here soon."
The doorman seemed very interested in this topic and started to ask me about it further, but our conversation was curtailed by Narc's arrival. All for the best-- it's never good to start gossip like that in someone's building.
I was feeling really strong and proud of myself for my resolve. I was also feeling good that Narc met me on my terms and not in the bar! Maybe this "setting boundaries" thing really works.
We ended up having an amazingly beautiful night. I was watching him smoke cigarettes by the window, thinking but one thought-- that I am in love with him. But as I told Hammer last night-- in order for me think like that, my brain is ignoring half of the facts... three quarters of the facts... I have to try to fight against my brain disposing of all that "unpleasant" information. It's not easy for me, but even in my moments of "love," I have to stay rational.
He asked about my cabaret. I told him it went well, but that my mom said that I needed to make more eye contact with the audience. He told me that he had just gotten back from Florida where his mom was clearing out some old family stuff and gave him some antiques-- three gold pocket watches (one of them Tiffany's) that belonged to his great grandfather and an original Salvador Dali gold and diamond ring
"You didn't tell me you were going to Florida," I said.
"Oh, I didn't?"
"No."
"Well, it was a last minute decision. I was only there Saturday and Sunday. I barely survived. Without the martinis, my mom and I would have tortured each other."
I had a fabulous time inspecting the antiques.
He told me he had come back to NY just in time for an all day screenwriting seminar run by Robert McKee.
"Was it worth it?"
"Not really. He didn't say anything I didn't know. And the movies we watched were dated-- Chinatown and Through a Glass Darkly..."
(What?!? Through a Glass Darkly??? That's too weird...)
We didn't watch any TV. We just talked. And he wanted me. I haven't felt that from him in a really long time. It felt really good-- the way he looked at me. We ended up having sex for hours and hours and hours and the kissing was incredible. I was so fucking happy. It was a perfect, PERFECT night.
When we finally got into bed, we had more sex and then he gave me Pushkin the Penguin to sleep with. I was happy. The next morning I woke up without a problem. I got myself together and nudged him.
"Narc, I've got to go. Did you have that money you were going to pay me back?"
To my surprise he got up out of bed to get it for me. Wow. So all debts are settled. I was in love (damn it!) and off to therapy.
Therapy was a good one-- talked mostly about family stuff, sibling dynamics, etc. After that, it was off to my endocrinologist, where I happily learned of my six pound weight loss. While I was waiting to leave my co-pay, I noticed an open patient file on the counter next to me. The name of the patient? "Stanley Kowalski." (What is UP with all of these strange signs?)
I had another appointment in the afternoon. Then, finally, I had to get ready for my cabaret.
I wore the glossiest, brightest red lipstick I could find, and outrageous glittering eye shadow. The show went really well. I was incredibly nervous, but think I was loosened up even more than last week. Afterwards, I waited in the downstairs area of the piano bar for my friends and family to gather. My arms filled with flowers, everyone was milling around congratulating me, when I saw someone strange. Guess who came to see my show? Manwich's friend, P! A random suitor from Cheers! What?!?! (In case you guys don't remember, P has been "courting me" since March, but I'm not interested. He most recently freaked me out when he got very angry about people "coughing on him.") I didn't even remember telling him about the show, so I was shocked to see him there. I made some obligatory chit chat and told him I was going out with my family after, but thanked him for coming.
My Aunt, Uncle and cousin Jol left, while Hammer, Bezoukhoff, my mom, stepdad and I went for a bite to eat. After that, I walked Hammer home and we gossiped a little.
Back in my neighborhood, I stopped at Cheers to say hi to IrishBird and ended up hanging for about half and hour with her, BarMan, ThursdayGirl and PumpedUp. Like I said last night-- I was surprised at how encouraging they were of my new life plan. BarMan, ThursdayGirl and I were all talking about sex and they asked me if Narc is really good in bed and to rate him from 1-10 (something I was loathe to do!). It was a funny conversation though. Everything felt "light."
I already reported my text exchange with Narc last night to you guys. The only thing to add? When I woke up this morning, I had two more.
Sent at 3:56 am: So wake me up.
Sent at 4:47 am: So you coming to wake me up or not?
He sent that only an hour before I got up!
But that's where I'm off to now... to "wake him up."
I taught my last class of the semester today. Now all I have left is to give finals and grade papers. Not bad...
So... Still happy!
Hyde
I spent a lot of time at Hammer's place this weekend-- Saturday night, Sunday night and then Monday night! (We had a lot of "24" catch up to do!). While I was there, I got those texts from Narc and I'm grateful I had Hammer to help me through them. If I were alone, I might have been tempted/pressured into meeting him at the Patriot. Hammer helped me stay rational and in line with my "priorites." I am sticking to my list of priorities come hell or high water. I am always so scared that if I don't do what he wants, he's not going to want to see me. (I can hear my therapist now-- "Then, what are you holding on to, Hyde?!?!?") But this time, I stuck to my guns, and in the end, he agreed to meet me at his place. It was funny, though... during that whole text drama, Hammer's pilot suitor was instant messaging her and I was trying to maintain a conversation with him.
"Just watch," Hammer warned. "He'll try to turn the talk to sex at any chance he gets!"
That, he did.
Anyway, I got to Narc's lobby at around 12:45 am, Monday night. The doorman, Chris, buzzed him. He didn't answer.
"Did you see him just come back?" I asked. "He should have just gotten back from the bar."
"No. He hasn't been in or out since I've been on here at 11:00," he told me.
"What?!?"
I called Narc. He was still at the Patriot.
"Just meet me here," he said. "The basketball game is tied up and we're all waiting for it to finish. A bunch of people bet on the game, and I have to wait it out. Come here."
Narc doesn't watch sports. I'd be surprised if he could name five basketball teams!
"I'm not coming there," I said. "I'll wait for you in your lobby. Just hurry, okay?"
I sat down on the lobby sofa with a huff and called Hammer. When I hung up, the doorman raised an eyebrow at me.
"What's up?" he asked.
"I'm quitting drinking," I said. "And he wants me to meet him at the bar. I don't want to. I just hope he shows up here soon."
The doorman seemed very interested in this topic and started to ask me about it further, but our conversation was curtailed by Narc's arrival. All for the best-- it's never good to start gossip like that in someone's building.
I was feeling really strong and proud of myself for my resolve. I was also feeling good that Narc met me on my terms and not in the bar! Maybe this "setting boundaries" thing really works.
We ended up having an amazingly beautiful night. I was watching him smoke cigarettes by the window, thinking but one thought-- that I am in love with him. But as I told Hammer last night-- in order for me think like that, my brain is ignoring half of the facts... three quarters of the facts... I have to try to fight against my brain disposing of all that "unpleasant" information. It's not easy for me, but even in my moments of "love," I have to stay rational.
He asked about my cabaret. I told him it went well, but that my mom said that I needed to make more eye contact with the audience. He told me that he had just gotten back from Florida where his mom was clearing out some old family stuff and gave him some antiques-- three gold pocket watches (one of them Tiffany's) that belonged to his great grandfather and an original Salvador Dali gold and diamond ring
"You didn't tell me you were going to Florida," I said.
"Oh, I didn't?"
"No."
"Well, it was a last minute decision. I was only there Saturday and Sunday. I barely survived. Without the martinis, my mom and I would have tortured each other."
I had a fabulous time inspecting the antiques.
He told me he had come back to NY just in time for an all day screenwriting seminar run by Robert McKee.
"Was it worth it?"
"Not really. He didn't say anything I didn't know. And the movies we watched were dated-- Chinatown and Through a Glass Darkly..."
(What?!? Through a Glass Darkly??? That's too weird...)
We didn't watch any TV. We just talked. And he wanted me. I haven't felt that from him in a really long time. It felt really good-- the way he looked at me. We ended up having sex for hours and hours and hours and the kissing was incredible. I was so fucking happy. It was a perfect, PERFECT night.
When we finally got into bed, we had more sex and then he gave me Pushkin the Penguin to sleep with. I was happy. The next morning I woke up without a problem. I got myself together and nudged him.
"Narc, I've got to go. Did you have that money you were going to pay me back?"
To my surprise he got up out of bed to get it for me. Wow. So all debts are settled. I was in love (damn it!) and off to therapy.
Therapy was a good one-- talked mostly about family stuff, sibling dynamics, etc. After that, it was off to my endocrinologist, where I happily learned of my six pound weight loss. While I was waiting to leave my co-pay, I noticed an open patient file on the counter next to me. The name of the patient? "Stanley Kowalski." (What is UP with all of these strange signs?)
I had another appointment in the afternoon. Then, finally, I had to get ready for my cabaret.
I wore the glossiest, brightest red lipstick I could find, and outrageous glittering eye shadow. The show went really well. I was incredibly nervous, but think I was loosened up even more than last week. Afterwards, I waited in the downstairs area of the piano bar for my friends and family to gather. My arms filled with flowers, everyone was milling around congratulating me, when I saw someone strange. Guess who came to see my show? Manwich's friend, P! A random suitor from Cheers! What?!?! (In case you guys don't remember, P has been "courting me" since March, but I'm not interested. He most recently freaked me out when he got very angry about people "coughing on him.") I didn't even remember telling him about the show, so I was shocked to see him there. I made some obligatory chit chat and told him I was going out with my family after, but thanked him for coming.
My Aunt, Uncle and cousin Jol left, while Hammer, Bezoukhoff, my mom, stepdad and I went for a bite to eat. After that, I walked Hammer home and we gossiped a little.
Back in my neighborhood, I stopped at Cheers to say hi to IrishBird and ended up hanging for about half and hour with her, BarMan, ThursdayGirl and PumpedUp. Like I said last night-- I was surprised at how encouraging they were of my new life plan. BarMan, ThursdayGirl and I were all talking about sex and they asked me if Narc is really good in bed and to rate him from 1-10 (something I was loathe to do!). It was a funny conversation though. Everything felt "light."
I already reported my text exchange with Narc last night to you guys. The only thing to add? When I woke up this morning, I had two more.
Sent at 3:56 am: So wake me up.
Sent at 4:47 am: So you coming to wake me up or not?
He sent that only an hour before I got up!
But that's where I'm off to now... to "wake him up."
I taught my last class of the semester today. Now all I have left is to give finals and grade papers. Not bad...
So... Still happy!
Hyde
Happy Hyde
Right now I'm happy, even though it's 1:00 am and I have to be up in five hours.
Why?
Why?
- I'm 8 days sober and feeling increasingly clear-headed. (Despite the added anxiety, which I am managing to deal with).
- I had mind-blowingly good sex last night with multiples and tons and tons of kissing and an intense emotional connection.
- I went to the doctor today and found out that since Thursday (in just six days!) I lost six pounds.
- I just sang in the second of my two cabaret shows and it went really well. (I wore a lot of glitter eye shadow.)
- I have amazing friends.
- I love my family.
- I stopped by Cheers on my way home to say hi to IrishBird and I didn't feel at all awkward not drinking. BarMan and ThursdayGirl showed up and we were laughing and talking and they were totally supportive and proud of me. Then PumpedUp came out and he was also proud of me for my efforts to quit drinking. I felt respect. I wasn't expecting that from all of them.
- Narc texted me tonight. He needs me. I'm feeling in love. (Illusions or not, I'm happy for tonight).
So, that's that... I have a lot of details to flesh out here, but like I said-- I have to be awake again in five hours.
I hope Ripway doesn't fuck up again and make me change the template!!!
Good night!
(And it really is!)
love,
Hyde
PS:
My text exchange with Narc:
Narc: At random bar in meatpacking. Depressed, moving to Patriot. Fucking hell.
Hyde: What happened? Need to talk?
Narc: Nah. No one at fault, just me pontificating. Besides, you can't do Patriot anyway.
Hyde: Well, we can talk on the phone if you want... Cheer up Charlie! :)
Narc: Pffft. I was Wonka!!
Hyde: Hmmm... Trying to think of a witty Wonka reference. Coming up short. Sending you a hug though! I can picture you brooding @ the Patriot... :(
Narc: Oh, I'm brooding... Can't believe you're not here.
Hyde: Even if I were in drinking mode, I have to wake up @ 6 tomorrow to teach. :( I'm w/ you in spirit though. :)
Narc: Pffffffft.
Hyde: Huuuuuuuuug! Get some sleep tonight. You'll feel better in the morning w/o a hangover. Don't want you to be "Dying...!"
I haven't heard back from him after that one. So I just wrote him another:
Narc, I'm going to bed now. But thinking of you. I loved last night. Hope you feel better soon...
So, indeed-- I'm signing off and going to bed. I'm still a Happy Hyde. Weird...
Tuesday, May 16, 2006
Temporary Measures
Until I can figure out what the fuck is wrong with Ripway, I'm using a standard template... Hopefully the custom built Annals will be back soon... Sorry for all of the mess!
-h-
Oh, and PS: I haven't had to block or "moderate" a single comment since I turned "comments moderation" on a few weeks back, so I'm going to turn it off again for the time begin. We'll see how it goes...
-h-
Oh, and PS: I haven't had to block or "moderate" a single comment since I turned "comments moderation" on a few weeks back, so I'm going to turn it off again for the time begin. We'll see how it goes...
Monday, May 15, 2006
As We Speak
As we speak I'm in the middle of a Narc text drama. I'm blogging this from Hammer's place. Here's what has happened so far...
N: Mmm... Patriot.... (8:36pm)
H: You are tempting! But I'm dieting, remember? No booze. Heading to Hammer's for 24 and will be in W. Village after that... How was your weekend? (8:45 pm)
N: Oh I know just felt like taunting you a bit... (wink) (8:52pm)
H: You're cruel! It's been a rough week but I lost 4 lbs! :) What are you doing later? (9:04 pm)
N: Not sure, but won't be out too late, methinks. Just got really really wet out! (9:10pm)
H: Well, let me know if you want to hang later. If you're up later I could always swing by you... (9:24 pm)
N: Can come meet me after 24 if you want (9:41pm)
H: Ok! But we're starting 24 now, so it'll be a little later... (9:44 pm)
N: K (9:45 pm)
Then later...
H: 24 over. What's up? (11:14 pm)
N: Patriot. (11:25 pm)
H: Are you planning on staying long? I don't want the temptation... (11:27 pm)
N: Come by, have water, PBR, etc. (11:29 pm)
H: I'd rather not be in a bar right now. If you want to stay out we can just make it another night... (11:32 pm)
N: Won't be out too much longer. Come and exercise self discipline. If I can do a 7 day water fast in New Orleans, you can come here for 30 min. (11:35 pm)
H: If you're only there for 30 more min, why don't I just meet you back at your place? For me, self-discipline is staying out of bars for the moment. (11:42 pm)
N: What would Dr. Phil say? Come out. I'll keep you straight. (11:44 pm)
H: Narc, I'm sorry. I really can't. :( (11:45 pm)
N: Eh no worries. Call from home. (11:47 pm)
H: ? You're going home? Or are you telling me to go home and call you? (11:50 pm)
N: When I'm home will call. (11:51pm)
H: Ok. But I'm at Hammer's and need to leave here soon. (11:52 pm)
SO.... That's where we are now. Hammer's suitor the pilot is IM'ing and I'm having to be her correspondent, as I'm using her computer. It's like the episode when George becomes Jerry's relationship assistant.
Anyway... I am feeling queasy and nervous. Hammer is proud of me so far. I have red lipstick on and red hair. My red eye blood vessels are showing. This moment is Red.
I have to go now. I must attend to a pilot with an open soul.
love,
h
PS: No spell checking or fancy italicizing. I'm at Hammer's house. This post is Hammer-style.
N: Mmm... Patriot.... (8:36pm)
H: You are tempting! But I'm dieting, remember? No booze. Heading to Hammer's for 24 and will be in W. Village after that... How was your weekend? (8:45 pm)
N: Oh I know just felt like taunting you a bit... (wink) (8:52pm)
H: You're cruel! It's been a rough week but I lost 4 lbs! :) What are you doing later? (9:04 pm)
N: Not sure, but won't be out too late, methinks. Just got really really wet out! (9:10pm)
H: Well, let me know if you want to hang later. If you're up later I could always swing by you... (9:24 pm)
N: Can come meet me after 24 if you want (9:41pm)
H: Ok! But we're starting 24 now, so it'll be a little later... (9:44 pm)
N: K (9:45 pm)
Then later...
H: 24 over. What's up? (11:14 pm)
N: Patriot. (11:25 pm)
H: Are you planning on staying long? I don't want the temptation... (11:27 pm)
N: Come by, have water, PBR, etc. (11:29 pm)
H: I'd rather not be in a bar right now. If you want to stay out we can just make it another night... (11:32 pm)
N: Won't be out too much longer. Come and exercise self discipline. If I can do a 7 day water fast in New Orleans, you can come here for 30 min. (11:35 pm)
H: If you're only there for 30 more min, why don't I just meet you back at your place? For me, self-discipline is staying out of bars for the moment. (11:42 pm)
N: What would Dr. Phil say? Come out. I'll keep you straight. (11:44 pm)
H: Narc, I'm sorry. I really can't. :( (11:45 pm)
N: Eh no worries. Call from home. (11:47 pm)
H: ? You're going home? Or are you telling me to go home and call you? (11:50 pm)
N: When I'm home will call. (11:51pm)
H: Ok. But I'm at Hammer's and need to leave here soon. (11:52 pm)
SO.... That's where we are now. Hammer's suitor the pilot is IM'ing and I'm having to be her correspondent, as I'm using her computer. It's like the episode when George becomes Jerry's relationship assistant.
Anyway... I am feeling queasy and nervous. Hammer is proud of me so far. I have red lipstick on and red hair. My red eye blood vessels are showing. This moment is Red.
I have to go now. I must attend to a pilot with an open soul.
love,
h
PS: No spell checking or fancy italicizing. I'm at Hammer's house. This post is Hammer-style.
Through a Glass Darkly
So, last night resolved better than I thought it would, despite the fact that I got very little sleep. I did end up going over to Hammer's and had quite a nice time! When I got there, she was hanging out with Maximus who told me (again) what a beautiful voice I have. It made me feel good. I haven't seen Maximus since the night of Hammer's party, and as we were both drunk and high that night, and he crashed on my couch, I couldn't quite tell what he thought of me. Last night, he was nice and tried to encourage me about the whole sobriety thing. Hammer and I have been spending a lot more time together recently, and I think it's good for us. After Maximus left, we watched three episodes of Sex in the City (I can't STAND Kim Cattrall's voice!) and then Hammer got an IM from Mohawk. She was giddy and started writing to him. It was nearly 1:00 am, so I headed home.
(BTW-- B finally called me back which was a MAJOR relief. I get so worried sometimes).
Anyway, this weekend was nice, despite the anxiety I've had about quitting. (If I get through today, that's seven days!) On Friday, after teaching, I decided to hang around on the Upper West Side. NDN was sitting shiva for his grandfather and we had plans to go to synagogue that evening. I went up to the Columbia area and walked around and then made my way back down to 86th street to meet NDN. While we were waiting to get into the service, I made eye contact with a girl who looked very familiar. It turns out she was in my college choir. She was two years behind me, but as I was hyper-involved in the choir and on managing board every year, I knew everyone. We said our obligatory "hellos," but it was kind of "awkward," (for lack of a better word.)
The service was beautiful and uplifting. I have to thank Hammer for introducing me to that place over a year ago. There is such a positive spiritual energy there. It was a Kabbalat Shabbat service which is a ritual to welcome Shabbat as the "bride" of Israel. The service uses Psalms 24, 95-99 and focuses on Psalm 29 and the song Lecha dodi. Overall, it's about the majesty of God, joy in the universe and peace both within and without. It's entirely sung (which for me is the perfect way to tap into my own "spiritual realm") and I always feel renewed after attending. I'm thinking of going more often. For NDN, it was also a special service, as his grandfather has just passed away. :(
After synagogue, we walked over to Riverside Drive, entering the park at the 79th street Boat Basin for a stroll down the river. Having lived near Riverside Park for years, I've made it a policy not to walk around there after dark, so I was a little wary, but NDN assured me that he would "protect me." (I hope so!) We walked and talked along the whole stretch, finally exiting the waterfront at 57th street, catching a cab back to our place where we watched Saved! on TV. (Funny, how some people just mentioned that film on Alecya's blog!). It was a nice night... and a non-drinking night at that!
But as nice as Friday night was, I was not looking forward to Saturday morning. I had an appointment for my mom to come into the city to meet with me and my therapist. She has been really worried about me ever since I "confessed" my alcoholism to her, and in order for her to feel like she can step back and not be breathing down my neck about it every two seconds, we needed to form some sort of plan. I won't go into the details of our meeting, as it's not something I care to share here, but it was hard for me. I cried... my mom cried... but in the end, it was more business-like than I ever thought possible and I was quite relieved. More than anything, I was grateful for my mother. She is just amazing and I love her so much.
After the appointment we parted ways. I headed downtown to meet Bezoukhoff for another spiritual adventure.
Now, this may sound a little strange, but I have always wanted to know how to paint religious icons. I have always been attracted to medieval art and to a Gothic aesthetic in general. At one point, I was convinced that I wanted to become a master at stained glass. I took a class in making stained glass panels and came away with one very beautiful amethyst iris on an amber background, but keeping up that hobby was a little difficult. I bought a glass cutter and a sander and all of the necessary equipment, but I had no outdoor space in which to work, living in New York City, and so any kind of project requiring me to work with lead was not a real possibility. As such, the hobby petered out a few months later.
In terms of the icon painting, a few years ago, I bought a book on the technique of writing icons, and realized that it was something that I could do at home. Even so, I would have to invest a considerable amount of money in the wooden boards, tempera paints, gesso, clay, gold and brushes, and I never quite got motivated enough to start. Then, a year or two ago, Bezoukhoff was over my house and noticed the icon instruction book. He revealed that he had a passion for icons as well (and was quite knowledgeable about the Russian greats, such as Andrei Rublev) and he said that he would love to learn how to make them. So I did a little investigation and found The Prosopon School of Iconology right here in New York. There they teach the ancient technique of Russian and Byzantine iconography!
We had been talking about going for quite some time, and on Saturday we finally got it together to get over there. The studio is located in the Russian Orthodox Cathedral of the Holy Virgin Protection. (Strangely enough, the church is just half a block from Waikiki Wally's. I passed it with Flash the other day!) The studio is just downstairs from the church through a separate gated entrance. I have to say-- I was nervous, as I didn't know what to expect.
We were welcomed by a woman named Tatiana, a master iconographist. The studio room was light, fairly spacious, and there were three or four other people silently working at tables lining two of the four walls. Against the back wall, a bearded man knelt, scraping at a large panel depicting one of the saints seated with a scroll and a fish. The air was filled with incense and chant and in the center of the room, there was a table with a kettle of tea and bowls of raisins.
Tatiana gave Bezoukhoff and me each our own wooden panels already covered in gesso. Before we could begin, she had to explain to us the spiritual role of icons in the Orthodox church, and told us that what we would be doing was not "artistic expression," but rather, "meditative spiritual discipline."
In order to write an icon, one must first accept that "God has image," that man is made in God's image (and therefore God's image is literally within us), and that we can focus that image into creation-- into a tangible symbol-- the icon. Icons are "windows" to God.
I don't know how, exactly, to paraphrase what she was saying, but at the time, I could only think of it in terms of Derrida's Grammatology. (I know... boorishly academic, but bear with me...)
It's not Derrida's theory, in particular, that was useful to me in thinking about all this, but rather, the language with which he constructs his theory. Derrida talks about symbols as "signifiers"-- something exterior to the concept, or "signified." In logocentric theory, speech consists of "signifiers" (spoken words represent ideas), and writing signifies speech (written words represent spoken words which then represent ideas). Speech as signifier is "exterior" to the concept it represents and writing as signifier is "exterior" to speech. Derrida argues against logocentric theory, instead claiming that speech might also function as "signifier" for the written word. (Spoken words represent written words). Therefore, the "exterior/interior" relationship of written language to speech can be reversed. And therefore, The notions of "exteriority" and "interiority" necessarily collapse.
I think that a similar thing is supposed to take place in terms of how religious icons function. Icons are "exterior" signifiers of "God." Human beings are also "exterior" signifiers of "God" (if, as Tatiana pointed out, we are made in the image of God). In my analogy, the icon functions like Derrida's "written word" and man (the iconographer) functions like Derrida's "speech." As a person creates an icon, the icon becomes an "exterior signifier" of God's image in man. But the icon is also a direct signifier of God's image, the original. (The same way the written word can signify the spoken word, or the signified concept itself.) The icon reflects God's image in man, and man reflects God's image in the icon. Exteriority and interiority collapse here as well. Hence, the icons are not merely "exterior" representations of God, but are suffused with "God's image," itself (which Tatiana assured us, he has).
God, in this case, becomes the "transcendental signified," (which Derrida would say rests on the assumption of "presence.") Derrida uses the term "differance" to describe the relation between presence and absence, inner meaning and outer representation. In the icon studio, what I thought she was saying, was that the icon acts as the "hinge" to bridge "differance." It is not merely a "representation" or an "exterior signifier."
I don't know if that made sense to anyone at all except for me, but there it is... Sorry for being so dense and circular. I'm not claiming to fully understand Derrida or to fully understand the theological foundations of Orthodox iconography. Nevertheless, as Tatiana was talking to us in the studio that afternoon, that's the only way I could process the "metaphysical" relationship between God and the creation of icons, as she described it. It's still somewhat of a tangled thought for me.
Anyway, moving on...
Our first task was to learn about the symbolic meanings behind the materials making up our wooden boards. The board's length symbolizes the Tree of Life and the width represents the Tree of Knowledge in Paradise. The grain of the wood runs vertically to receive the Holy Spirit from the heavens. The indentation of the board or "covcheg" symbolizes the Arc of the Covenant. It creates a separate space for the icon-- Paradise, as opposed to the "Earthly" outer border. The board is covered by a linen cloth which symbolizes the shroud of Jesus. Then at least 10 coats of gesso is applied to the board, its whiteness symbolizing the "rest" or "nothingness" that existed before Creation-- potential... light.
They start off all of their students with an image of the Archangel Michael. Tatiana explained why, but I don't remember. We carefully transferred a drawing onto the board using carbon paper. Then we had to make any touch ups necessary. This all took quite some time because it had to be perfect. If any of the details were off, it was "incorrect," and there is no room for self-expression or deviation.
When that was done, we had to go over the entire drawing yet again with a sharp tool to etch shallow lines into the gesso. Finally, we were ready for some paint brushes. The first step was to fill in the halo and edge the borders with a mixture of red clay, honey and some other ingredients using a "floating" technique. It was important that there be absolutely no brushstrokes so that the human hand would not be visible in the work.
Believe it or not, by that point four hours had gone by and the studio was closing for the day. Our icons had barely begun to take shape, but we had to leave them there for another afternoon.
It was then, once my focus and concentration had lifted, that I realized that I hadn't eaten all day. I had a headache, and I was suddenly in a really bad mood. Bezoukhoff seems to have eternal patience for me, and he calmed me down while I ate an apple and we took a cab back to my apartment.
It took me a really long time to feel better. There must have been quite a scowl on my face... quite a furrowed brow! (But not in a sexy Byronic way! More in a cranky PMS way...) I played some piano and Bezoukhoff showed me some strange post-Soviet commercials on the internet. Still, I wasn't revived until I had swallowed two Vivarin and put on some opera. I needed a little drama... something to wrench my gut in excess after the afternoon of quiet contemplation. So I put on a few of my favorite "high-drama" scenes-- the end of Thais, the Cathedral scene from Faust (during which I had to dance around and occasionally punch Bezoukhoff in the arm), the storm scene from Rigoletto and the very last scene in Rigoletto.
By that point it was 8:00 pm. BarMan had invited me to hear him play at Cheers from 7:00-9:00. He was doing an acoustic "pre-karaoke" show with some of his own music and a lot of covers. While I promised him a few weeks ago that I'd be there, I wasn't sure that I should go since I decided to really quit drinking. I asked Bezoukhoff if he would go with me and sit with me at a table away from the bar, and if he would be the one to go up to the bar to get sodas for us. He agreed and we decided to just stay for an hour and to leave right away when BarMan was finished.
There was a new woman bartending. I had heard they were hiring, as PCuz is overextended on the weekends. It felt strange that I won't get to know her. It's like a new chapter in "Cheers" and I won't be there. Oh well... BarMan played well, as usual. Soon, IrishBird came in and gave me a huge hug. ThursdayGirl was there too. I was jittery. Glancing up at the bar, I knew everyone sitting there. I knew 75% of the people in the place! Like ducks in a row-- PreppyGirl, Candy, JerBer, SurgeonGirl, Manwich, etc. etc.
As soon as BarMan played his last song, Bezoukhoff and I headed for the door. I hugged BarMan goodbye. He knew why I had to go. Besides, I had plans to catch up on TWO WEEKS of missed 24 episodes with Hammer. (How did I live without Jack for two whole weeks????)
Bezoukhoff accompanied me down to the West Village before we said our goodbyes. Then it was all me and Hammer... and Jack. I have such a fucking HUGE crush on him!!! It was amazingly perfect. The episodes were great and I had fun with Hammer. But I knew it was going to be hard for me to avoid going back into Cheers on my way home, so I took two Valium before I left Hammer's place.
As I walked into my building, I had to clench my fists, my nails pressed into palms, leaving cutting marks. But I did it. And I was okay. I think I got to bed at around 2:00 am.
Sunday, as you all know, was Mother's Day! For me, that meant heading out to Long Island early in the afternoon. My mom picked me up at the train and then we got BigSis. It was a fairly standard family holiday. Me, my parents, BigSis, LilSis, Bro-in-Law, JBC, my grandpa... and then my Aunt and Uncle came over with their two daughters-- Jail and Jol. Jol is 19 and just broke up with her boyfriend that she's been dating since she was 15. Their family has major enmeshment issues and my Aunt was freaking out about it. She gave her daughter Klonopin without a prescription. Nuts.
Anyway, the "exciting" news of the afternoon was that two ducks made a home in my parents' swimming pool, and on Sunday laid an egg. My stepfather wanted to incubate it. We barbecued, but it was too cold to eat outside. All in all, it was a very nice family day. My mom drove me back to the train at around 7:00 and I was soon home.
And you know the rest from there! I felt anxious, posted, and eventually went to Hammer's place.
Anyway, this post took a long time to write and I'm hungry now and sick of sitting in front of the computer...
later...
-h-
(BTW-- B finally called me back which was a MAJOR relief. I get so worried sometimes).
Anyway, this weekend was nice, despite the anxiety I've had about quitting. (If I get through today, that's seven days!) On Friday, after teaching, I decided to hang around on the Upper West Side. NDN was sitting shiva for his grandfather and we had plans to go to synagogue that evening. I went up to the Columbia area and walked around and then made my way back down to 86th street to meet NDN. While we were waiting to get into the service, I made eye contact with a girl who looked very familiar. It turns out she was in my college choir. She was two years behind me, but as I was hyper-involved in the choir and on managing board every year, I knew everyone. We said our obligatory "hellos," but it was kind of "awkward," (for lack of a better word.)
The service was beautiful and uplifting. I have to thank Hammer for introducing me to that place over a year ago. There is such a positive spiritual energy there. It was a Kabbalat Shabbat service which is a ritual to welcome Shabbat as the "bride" of Israel. The service uses Psalms 24, 95-99 and focuses on Psalm 29 and the song Lecha dodi. Overall, it's about the majesty of God, joy in the universe and peace both within and without. It's entirely sung (which for me is the perfect way to tap into my own "spiritual realm") and I always feel renewed after attending. I'm thinking of going more often. For NDN, it was also a special service, as his grandfather has just passed away. :(
After synagogue, we walked over to Riverside Drive, entering the park at the 79th street Boat Basin for a stroll down the river. Having lived near Riverside Park for years, I've made it a policy not to walk around there after dark, so I was a little wary, but NDN assured me that he would "protect me." (I hope so!) We walked and talked along the whole stretch, finally exiting the waterfront at 57th street, catching a cab back to our place where we watched Saved! on TV. (Funny, how some people just mentioned that film on Alecya's blog!). It was a nice night... and a non-drinking night at that!
But as nice as Friday night was, I was not looking forward to Saturday morning. I had an appointment for my mom to come into the city to meet with me and my therapist. She has been really worried about me ever since I "confessed" my alcoholism to her, and in order for her to feel like she can step back and not be breathing down my neck about it every two seconds, we needed to form some sort of plan. I won't go into the details of our meeting, as it's not something I care to share here, but it was hard for me. I cried... my mom cried... but in the end, it was more business-like than I ever thought possible and I was quite relieved. More than anything, I was grateful for my mother. She is just amazing and I love her so much.
After the appointment we parted ways. I headed downtown to meet Bezoukhoff for another spiritual adventure.
Now, this may sound a little strange, but I have always wanted to know how to paint religious icons. I have always been attracted to medieval art and to a Gothic aesthetic in general. At one point, I was convinced that I wanted to become a master at stained glass. I took a class in making stained glass panels and came away with one very beautiful amethyst iris on an amber background, but keeping up that hobby was a little difficult. I bought a glass cutter and a sander and all of the necessary equipment, but I had no outdoor space in which to work, living in New York City, and so any kind of project requiring me to work with lead was not a real possibility. As such, the hobby petered out a few months later.
In terms of the icon painting, a few years ago, I bought a book on the technique of writing icons, and realized that it was something that I could do at home. Even so, I would have to invest a considerable amount of money in the wooden boards, tempera paints, gesso, clay, gold and brushes, and I never quite got motivated enough to start. Then, a year or two ago, Bezoukhoff was over my house and noticed the icon instruction book. He revealed that he had a passion for icons as well (and was quite knowledgeable about the Russian greats, such as Andrei Rublev) and he said that he would love to learn how to make them. So I did a little investigation and found The Prosopon School of Iconology right here in New York. There they teach the ancient technique of Russian and Byzantine iconography!
We had been talking about going for quite some time, and on Saturday we finally got it together to get over there. The studio is located in the Russian Orthodox Cathedral of the Holy Virgin Protection. (Strangely enough, the church is just half a block from Waikiki Wally's. I passed it with Flash the other day!) The studio is just downstairs from the church through a separate gated entrance. I have to say-- I was nervous, as I didn't know what to expect.We were welcomed by a woman named Tatiana, a master iconographist. The studio room was light, fairly spacious, and there were three or four other people silently working at tables lining two of the four walls. Against the back wall, a bearded man knelt, scraping at a large panel depicting one of the saints seated with a scroll and a fish. The air was filled with incense and chant and in the center of the room, there was a table with a kettle of tea and bowls of raisins.
Tatiana gave Bezoukhoff and me each our own wooden panels already covered in gesso. Before we could begin, she had to explain to us the spiritual role of icons in the Orthodox church, and told us that what we would be doing was not "artistic expression," but rather, "meditative spiritual discipline."
In order to write an icon, one must first accept that "God has image," that man is made in God's image (and therefore God's image is literally within us), and that we can focus that image into creation-- into a tangible symbol-- the icon. Icons are "windows" to God.
I don't know how, exactly, to paraphrase what she was saying, but at the time, I could only think of it in terms of Derrida's Grammatology. (I know... boorishly academic, but bear with me...)
It's not Derrida's theory, in particular, that was useful to me in thinking about all this, but rather, the language with which he constructs his theory. Derrida talks about symbols as "signifiers"-- something exterior to the concept, or "signified." In logocentric theory, speech consists of "signifiers" (spoken words represent ideas), and writing signifies speech (written words represent spoken words which then represent ideas). Speech as signifier is "exterior" to the concept it represents and writing as signifier is "exterior" to speech. Derrida argues against logocentric theory, instead claiming that speech might also function as "signifier" for the written word. (Spoken words represent written words). Therefore, the "exterior/interior" relationship of written language to speech can be reversed. And therefore, The notions of "exteriority" and "interiority" necessarily collapse.
I think that a similar thing is supposed to take place in terms of how religious icons function. Icons are "exterior" signifiers of "God." Human beings are also "exterior" signifiers of "God" (if, as Tatiana pointed out, we are made in the image of God). In my analogy, the icon functions like Derrida's "written word" and man (the iconographer) functions like Derrida's "speech." As a person creates an icon, the icon becomes an "exterior signifier" of God's image in man. But the icon is also a direct signifier of God's image, the original. (The same way the written word can signify the spoken word, or the signified concept itself.) The icon reflects God's image in man, and man reflects God's image in the icon. Exteriority and interiority collapse here as well. Hence, the icons are not merely "exterior" representations of God, but are suffused with "God's image," itself (which Tatiana assured us, he has).
God, in this case, becomes the "transcendental signified," (which Derrida would say rests on the assumption of "presence.") Derrida uses the term "differance" to describe the relation between presence and absence, inner meaning and outer representation. In the icon studio, what I thought she was saying, was that the icon acts as the "hinge" to bridge "differance." It is not merely a "representation" or an "exterior signifier."
I don't know if that made sense to anyone at all except for me, but there it is... Sorry for being so dense and circular. I'm not claiming to fully understand Derrida or to fully understand the theological foundations of Orthodox iconography. Nevertheless, as Tatiana was talking to us in the studio that afternoon, that's the only way I could process the "metaphysical" relationship between God and the creation of icons, as she described it. It's still somewhat of a tangled thought for me.
Anyway, moving on...
Our first task was to learn about the symbolic meanings behind the materials making up our wooden boards. The board's length symbolizes the Tree of Life and the width represents the Tree of Knowledge in Paradise. The grain of the wood runs vertically to receive the Holy Spirit from the heavens. The indentation of the board or "covcheg" symbolizes the Arc of the Covenant. It creates a separate space for the icon-- Paradise, as opposed to the "Earthly" outer border. The board is covered by a linen cloth which symbolizes the shroud of Jesus. Then at least 10 coats of gesso is applied to the board, its whiteness symbolizing the "rest" or "nothingness" that existed before Creation-- potential... light.
They start off all of their students with an image of the Archangel Michael. Tatiana explained why, but I don't remember. We carefully transferred a drawing onto the board using carbon paper. Then we had to make any touch ups necessary. This all took quite some time because it had to be perfect. If any of the details were off, it was "incorrect," and there is no room for self-expression or deviation.
When that was done, we had to go over the entire drawing yet again with a sharp tool to etch shallow lines into the gesso. Finally, we were ready for some paint brushes. The first step was to fill in the halo and edge the borders with a mixture of red clay, honey and some other ingredients using a "floating" technique. It was important that there be absolutely no brushstrokes so that the human hand would not be visible in the work.
Believe it or not, by that point four hours had gone by and the studio was closing for the day. Our icons had barely begun to take shape, but we had to leave them there for another afternoon.
It was then, once my focus and concentration had lifted, that I realized that I hadn't eaten all day. I had a headache, and I was suddenly in a really bad mood. Bezoukhoff seems to have eternal patience for me, and he calmed me down while I ate an apple and we took a cab back to my apartment.
It took me a really long time to feel better. There must have been quite a scowl on my face... quite a furrowed brow! (But not in a sexy Byronic way! More in a cranky PMS way...) I played some piano and Bezoukhoff showed me some strange post-Soviet commercials on the internet. Still, I wasn't revived until I had swallowed two Vivarin and put on some opera. I needed a little drama... something to wrench my gut in excess after the afternoon of quiet contemplation. So I put on a few of my favorite "high-drama" scenes-- the end of Thais, the Cathedral scene from Faust (during which I had to dance around and occasionally punch Bezoukhoff in the arm), the storm scene from Rigoletto and the very last scene in Rigoletto.
By that point it was 8:00 pm. BarMan had invited me to hear him play at Cheers from 7:00-9:00. He was doing an acoustic "pre-karaoke" show with some of his own music and a lot of covers. While I promised him a few weeks ago that I'd be there, I wasn't sure that I should go since I decided to really quit drinking. I asked Bezoukhoff if he would go with me and sit with me at a table away from the bar, and if he would be the one to go up to the bar to get sodas for us. He agreed and we decided to just stay for an hour and to leave right away when BarMan was finished.
There was a new woman bartending. I had heard they were hiring, as PCuz is overextended on the weekends. It felt strange that I won't get to know her. It's like a new chapter in "Cheers" and I won't be there. Oh well... BarMan played well, as usual. Soon, IrishBird came in and gave me a huge hug. ThursdayGirl was there too. I was jittery. Glancing up at the bar, I knew everyone sitting there. I knew 75% of the people in the place! Like ducks in a row-- PreppyGirl, Candy, JerBer, SurgeonGirl, Manwich, etc. etc.
As soon as BarMan played his last song, Bezoukhoff and I headed for the door. I hugged BarMan goodbye. He knew why I had to go. Besides, I had plans to catch up on TWO WEEKS of missed 24 episodes with Hammer. (How did I live without Jack for two whole weeks????)
Bezoukhoff accompanied me down to the West Village before we said our goodbyes. Then it was all me and Hammer... and Jack. I have such a fucking HUGE crush on him!!! It was amazingly perfect. The episodes were great and I had fun with Hammer. But I knew it was going to be hard for me to avoid going back into Cheers on my way home, so I took two Valium before I left Hammer's place.
As I walked into my building, I had to clench my fists, my nails pressed into palms, leaving cutting marks. But I did it. And I was okay. I think I got to bed at around 2:00 am.
Sunday, as you all know, was Mother's Day! For me, that meant heading out to Long Island early in the afternoon. My mom picked me up at the train and then we got BigSis. It was a fairly standard family holiday. Me, my parents, BigSis, LilSis, Bro-in-Law, JBC, my grandpa... and then my Aunt and Uncle came over with their two daughters-- Jail and Jol. Jol is 19 and just broke up with her boyfriend that she's been dating since she was 15. Their family has major enmeshment issues and my Aunt was freaking out about it. She gave her daughter Klonopin without a prescription. Nuts.
Anyway, the "exciting" news of the afternoon was that two ducks made a home in my parents' swimming pool, and on Sunday laid an egg. My stepfather wanted to incubate it. We barbecued, but it was too cold to eat outside. All in all, it was a very nice family day. My mom drove me back to the train at around 7:00 and I was soon home.
And you know the rest from there! I felt anxious, posted, and eventually went to Hammer's place.
Anyway, this post took a long time to write and I'm hungry now and sick of sitting in front of the computer...
later...
-h-
Sunday, May 14, 2006
Holding
I'm anxious right now.
I fucking hate this feeling.
I want a drink.
I'm thinking of Narc and wanting to kiss him. I really, really want to kiss him. I haven't heard from him since Thursday, but then as luck would have it, I magically found out that he's in Florida. When that happened I felt a little better.
I did a lot this weekend-- it was a spiritually "awake" weekend, but I don't have it in me to write about all of that right now. Right now I'm just anxious. And I want to relax and to feel Narc's lips on mine. That's the only thing in the world that I want. (Oh yeah... besides that drink...) I just want his lips. He has very nice lips. They're perfectly shaped.
B hasn't called me back since yesterday and it is VERY unlike him. Usually the longest it takes for him to get back to me is a few hours. I'm worried. I sent him a text 40 minutes ago asking, Are you okay? If he doesn't answer in another two hours, I'm going to get very worried. I'm going to make myself give it two hours, but then I'm going to freak out.
I'm anxious.
Did I say that already?
I just got back from Long Island for Mother's Day. I could have been a mother today. Stop it, Hyde. Don't think things like that. I remember last year at this time. Things were so strange. I remember last year when Narc went to Florida. It was the first day of June. I'm anxious.
Hammer invited me down to her place to hang out with her and Maximus, as I'm feeling a little "out of sorts." It might be a good idea to go. Then again, I have to be up at 6:00 am tomorrow. Maybe it's not a good idea to go.
I feel like I'm about to get depressed. I kind of want to chain smoke and listen to depressing music. Can I do that without drinking? I wonder what it would be like...
I have trouble sitting still, but I'm so tired.
More on the weekend tomorrow. There were a lot of beautiful things... A lot to tell about. But I can't right now. I'm too anxious. And all I can think of is kissing Narc.
So here I am... five days in and holding.
-h-
I fucking hate this feeling.
I want a drink.
I'm thinking of Narc and wanting to kiss him. I really, really want to kiss him. I haven't heard from him since Thursday, but then as luck would have it, I magically found out that he's in Florida. When that happened I felt a little better.
I did a lot this weekend-- it was a spiritually "awake" weekend, but I don't have it in me to write about all of that right now. Right now I'm just anxious. And I want to relax and to feel Narc's lips on mine. That's the only thing in the world that I want. (Oh yeah... besides that drink...) I just want his lips. He has very nice lips. They're perfectly shaped.
B hasn't called me back since yesterday and it is VERY unlike him. Usually the longest it takes for him to get back to me is a few hours. I'm worried. I sent him a text 40 minutes ago asking, Are you okay? If he doesn't answer in another two hours, I'm going to get very worried. I'm going to make myself give it two hours, but then I'm going to freak out.
I'm anxious.
Did I say that already?
I just got back from Long Island for Mother's Day. I could have been a mother today. Stop it, Hyde. Don't think things like that. I remember last year at this time. Things were so strange. I remember last year when Narc went to Florida. It was the first day of June. I'm anxious.
Hammer invited me down to her place to hang out with her and Maximus, as I'm feeling a little "out of sorts." It might be a good idea to go. Then again, I have to be up at 6:00 am tomorrow. Maybe it's not a good idea to go.
I feel like I'm about to get depressed. I kind of want to chain smoke and listen to depressing music. Can I do that without drinking? I wonder what it would be like...
I have trouble sitting still, but I'm so tired.
More on the weekend tomorrow. There were a lot of beautiful things... A lot to tell about. But I can't right now. I'm too anxious. And all I can think of is kissing Narc.
So here I am... five days in and holding.
-h-
Friday, May 12, 2006
Life Beyond Narc?
Hammer says there's life beyond Narc.
She has forwarded me the following posts from Craigslist:
Good girl........secretly a SUBMISSIVE SLUT
http://newyork.craigslist.org/mnh/m4w/159434251.html
Date: 2006-05-10, 2:35PM
SEEKING SUBMISSIVE FEMALE FOR A LONG TERM RELATIONSHIP
http://newyork.craigslist.org/mnh/m4w/159469214.html
Date: 2006-05-10, 4:04PM
I don't know about those... But reading Craigslist has posed some strange logistical questions, as to how people actually carry these things out. After one ad that we read, as Hammer put it--
What, are you gonna say to the doorman "let a creepy stranger in. we're playing rape"??
Anyway, it's all given me a few good laughs.
In other news, I'm having blog-malaise. Anyone know of any good cures?
I went to the doctor this week and got my bloods back. The results? My kidneys are fine (hooray!), but my liver has two enzymes that are increasingly fucked up. That should be fixable, but my insulin is through the roof! (But then again-- that should also be fixable.) I'm now on some "medical food" for the next two weeks and off of alcohol. (I know you don't believe me, but I don't care). Today is day 4 and counting...
In terms of Narc, while Hammer's Craigslist finds are oh so enticing, ;) I can't help the feeling that life beyond Narc is not about to begin for me just yet. Why should it, anyway? Dealing with boys is only number five on my list of priorities, and I have much too much else to take care of right now.
After I texted him on Tuesday night, I sent him a little "happy birthday" email on Wednesday. Then I came home and saw Chris Daughtry voted off Idol. Narc and I were both sure that Daughtry would win, so I sent him another text: Call me when you see idol results!
I didn't hear back from him until yesterday evening when he wrote: Fucking fuck. Didn't call it this time I guess... and then he called me.
We spoke for a few minutes. He said that he went to see a play with ModelChick (his ex) in the afternoon on his birthday and then he went out bar-hopping with friends that night, ending at the Patriot. I laughed at that.
I told him that I'm off drinking for the foreseeable future because I'm "on a diet." (It's easier to put it to him that way, and not have to have him argue with me that I'm not an alcoholic and that alcoholism isn't a disease and that I don't need to stop drinking.) He said that he means to lose weight too and should probably give up drinking for a few weeks as well.
"I would have done it this week, except my friend, LA-friend was here. And then I had my birthday," he explained.
"Yeah, I would have done it last week," I agreed, "except that Flash was coming."
I realized Narc had been out drinking every night since I had seen him on Friday. Is that my life too?
He invited me to come down and see him, again with limits.
"Come hang out," he said. "But I may have plans with some friends at around 9:00."
"Narc, it's nearly 8:00 now," I said. "That doesn't make sense. Why don't you just call me later when you know whether or not you're going out?"
In the end, we were both tired and never ended up meeting up. Instead, I caught up with NDN for a while and then went to bed.
All of that aside, this has been an excruciatingly hard week for me, starting on Sunday (despite the fact that Flash was still here then). As I already said, it was the anniversary of my dad's death on Sunday, and I ended up getting into a huge fight with my sisters.
This whole week and even right now I've been riddled with feelings of guilt and fear that are difficult for me to sort through and even more difficult to write about.
On Wednesday I started obsessing about drinking smack in the middle of my choir rehearsal. By the time choir let out, the anxiety was overwhelming me, as I had made the decision not to go to Cheers, but I couldn't sit with that decision. That night was torture. I called my mom and we spoke for an hour, the conversation interspersed with more tears. I do have to say, though, I have the most wonderful mom imaginable. I'm serious-- I couldn't even dream up a better one!
Nevertheless, when we hung up, I still felt anxious. So I took two valium, a candlelit bubble bath, some hot tea and I listened to soothing music. Even still, I had trouble getting calm. Only after nearly an hour in the bubble bath, at around 1:00 am did I start to feel more sedated... drowsy. So I quickly shifted to my bed, to try to take advantage of the moment. I fell asleep without too much trouble after that.
Anyhow, that's it for now, I guess... I really feel like I have nothing in particular to share. I don't know. I feel like the energy on my blog is low... from me and from my readers. It happens... So I may take longer breaks between posts. Not sure...
Hope everyone is having a happy Friday. I know I am, if only because this is the last Friday I have this crap teaching schedule! So I'll end on a good note... Yay!
love,
h
She has forwarded me the following posts from Craigslist:
Good girl........secretly a SUBMISSIVE SLUT
http://newyork.craigslist.org/mnh/m4w/159434251.html
Date: 2006-05-10, 2:35PM
SEEKING SUBMISSIVE FEMALE FOR A LONG TERM RELATIONSHIP
http://newyork.craigslist.org/mnh/m4w/159469214.html
Date: 2006-05-10, 4:04PM
I don't know about those... But reading Craigslist has posed some strange logistical questions, as to how people actually carry these things out. After one ad that we read, as Hammer put it--
What, are you gonna say to the doorman "let a creepy stranger in. we're playing rape"??
Anyway, it's all given me a few good laughs.
In other news, I'm having blog-malaise. Anyone know of any good cures?
I went to the doctor this week and got my bloods back. The results? My kidneys are fine (hooray!), but my liver has two enzymes that are increasingly fucked up. That should be fixable, but my insulin is through the roof! (But then again-- that should also be fixable.) I'm now on some "medical food" for the next two weeks and off of alcohol. (I know you don't believe me, but I don't care). Today is day 4 and counting...
In terms of Narc, while Hammer's Craigslist finds are oh so enticing, ;) I can't help the feeling that life beyond Narc is not about to begin for me just yet. Why should it, anyway? Dealing with boys is only number five on my list of priorities, and I have much too much else to take care of right now.
After I texted him on Tuesday night, I sent him a little "happy birthday" email on Wednesday. Then I came home and saw Chris Daughtry voted off Idol. Narc and I were both sure that Daughtry would win, so I sent him another text: Call me when you see idol results!
I didn't hear back from him until yesterday evening when he wrote: Fucking fuck. Didn't call it this time I guess... and then he called me.
We spoke for a few minutes. He said that he went to see a play with ModelChick (his ex) in the afternoon on his birthday and then he went out bar-hopping with friends that night, ending at the Patriot. I laughed at that.
I told him that I'm off drinking for the foreseeable future because I'm "on a diet." (It's easier to put it to him that way, and not have to have him argue with me that I'm not an alcoholic and that alcoholism isn't a disease and that I don't need to stop drinking.) He said that he means to lose weight too and should probably give up drinking for a few weeks as well.
"I would have done it this week, except my friend, LA-friend was here. And then I had my birthday," he explained.
"Yeah, I would have done it last week," I agreed, "except that Flash was coming."
I realized Narc had been out drinking every night since I had seen him on Friday. Is that my life too?
He invited me to come down and see him, again with limits.
"Come hang out," he said. "But I may have plans with some friends at around 9:00."
"Narc, it's nearly 8:00 now," I said. "That doesn't make sense. Why don't you just call me later when you know whether or not you're going out?"
In the end, we were both tired and never ended up meeting up. Instead, I caught up with NDN for a while and then went to bed.
All of that aside, this has been an excruciatingly hard week for me, starting on Sunday (despite the fact that Flash was still here then). As I already said, it was the anniversary of my dad's death on Sunday, and I ended up getting into a huge fight with my sisters.
This whole week and even right now I've been riddled with feelings of guilt and fear that are difficult for me to sort through and even more difficult to write about.
On Wednesday I started obsessing about drinking smack in the middle of my choir rehearsal. By the time choir let out, the anxiety was overwhelming me, as I had made the decision not to go to Cheers, but I couldn't sit with that decision. That night was torture. I called my mom and we spoke for an hour, the conversation interspersed with more tears. I do have to say, though, I have the most wonderful mom imaginable. I'm serious-- I couldn't even dream up a better one!
Nevertheless, when we hung up, I still felt anxious. So I took two valium, a candlelit bubble bath, some hot tea and I listened to soothing music. Even still, I had trouble getting calm. Only after nearly an hour in the bubble bath, at around 1:00 am did I start to feel more sedated... drowsy. So I quickly shifted to my bed, to try to take advantage of the moment. I fell asleep without too much trouble after that.
Anyhow, that's it for now, I guess... I really feel like I have nothing in particular to share. I don't know. I feel like the energy on my blog is low... from me and from my readers. It happens... So I may take longer breaks between posts. Not sure...
Hope everyone is having a happy Friday. I know I am, if only because this is the last Friday I have this crap teaching schedule! So I'll end on a good note... Yay!
love,
h
Thursday, May 11, 2006
Change
He was born in the summer of his 27th year
Comin' home to a place he'd never been before
He left yesterday behind him, you might say he was born again
You might say he found a key for every door
You might not hear from me quite as much this week. A lot of stuff has to be sorted out and I feel a bit of the need to retreat into myself in order to do it.
It's time though...
It's hard to break certain patterns when blogging about them is part of the pleasure. But I'm still here. And I'm sure I won't be able to resist posting at least a little bit.
love,
h
Comin' home to a place he'd never been before
He left yesterday behind him, you might say he was born again
You might say he found a key for every door
You might not hear from me quite as much this week. A lot of stuff has to be sorted out and I feel a bit of the need to retreat into myself in order to do it.
It's time though...
It's hard to break certain patterns when blogging about them is part of the pleasure. But I'm still here. And I'm sure I won't be able to resist posting at least a little bit.
love,
h
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