May Day

It's May. Fucking unbelievable. May Day! May Day! Enough said about that. I hate this time of year. May 7th-- the sixteenth anniversary of my dad's death. And now, I'm thinking of May 5th too... an important date for me and Narc last year.

From the length of my recent posts, you can see that I'm not feeling my usual prolific self. I suppose that it's just easier for me, right now, not to sit here and muse over everything. I don't want to get too weighed down with the Narc-shit in my head. (That said, this post turned out pretty long, so maybe I take that back!)

I was being a bit of a stalker the other day and found a picture of him online. It was taken on Monday, April 24th and was posted on the website for his screenwriter's group. I also found a message he put up on the message board there, detailing every film he plans to see this week at the Tribeca Film Festival.

Oh!

But whatever... I'm just being a stupid girl, like that. I suppose it's getting a little better. On Friday I nearly breathed a sigh of relief. (Nearly!) And I managed to get from Tuesday to Friday last week without a drink. Past the first day, the valium sucked, but it was nice not having to be in constant "morning-after" recovery mode.

I took care of a lot of lingering business last week, too-- mostly stuff from last semester, in terms of resolving incompletes for my students. Can you believe I was still dealing with fallout from that fucked up transit strike sprung on us at Christmas time?!? The next step? To finish my own incompletes! I'm getting down to the wire and if I don't go underground and becoming a maniacal academic hermit for the month of May, I have scarcely a chance of being able to register next semester. The clouds must be parted.

Anyway, I know I owe you all my strange story about the Senator and the Newspaper man (from Wednesday night), so here it is...

I have been taping American Idol for IrishBird, as she doesn't have TiVo, and since I live right next to the bar, it's not a big deal for me to run it over to her. I set up the tape that night, before leaving for choir practice. Choir is fun these days. We're working on Cherubini's Medea which is Italian and open and easy (even though we're singing it in French!). The performance will be at Carnegie Hall on June 3rd.

When I got home, I chatted with NDN for a bit and then headed to Cheers. It was my first full day on the valium, but I wasn't sleepy-- I just felt more mellow. I handed IrishBird the tape and made small talk with Arachnid for a while (the bartender from the Overlook who has recently suffered a slipped disk). After that, I took a seat at the end of the bar, away from the handful of customers, where I began sipping diet cokes, intermittently gossiping with IrishBird. Manwich came over to give me a kiss hello.

"You know my friend P really likes you!" he said. "He has the hots for you, big time!"

"Oh, really?" I blushed. "Well...."

IrishBird was laughing. "I'm not so sure she's interested!" she said, winking at me.

"Are you?" Manwich asked, his eyebrows raised.

"Well, no... I mean... I don't think so, but..."

I felt really awkward. In case you guys don't remember, P is the one who flew into a rage the other night because people were "coughing on him."

I said good night to Manwich and after a while, a guy named Dave came in-- the one I met on the night I was "chewing on a straw" (about two and a half weeks ago). I said hello to him. He was with a bunch of people from his office. Apparently, they're all lawyers. I wasn't really paying attention, but a little while later, two other men came in and Dave and the lawyers started kissing ass big time. It turned out that one of the new men is a NY State Senator and the other, a Senior Editor for a prominent NY newspaper.

"Do you know who this guy is?" one of the lawyers exclaimed to IrishBird, swinging his arm around the shoulder of the Newspaper-Man. "He's a fucking celebrity! A celebrity! He's written two books. Everyone knows his name. He's big time media!"

I couldn't help but overhear, as they were not even a foot away from me.

"Wow. That's impressive," I said, smiling at Newspaper-Man.

He winked at me.

Then the lawyers started sucking up to the Senator. "Senator! Senator! Can I buy you a drink?" they cried, tripping over themselves.

I was sitting right next to them during all of this action, half paying attention. I could tell that the Newspaper-Man was trying to gauge my reaction. He sidled up to talk to me, asking what I do for a living. I found the whole situation to be mildly amusing. Here was this brilliant, accomplished guy in a bar, but he was so incredibly awkward. He reminded me so much of ProfPP. I don't know... Maybe I'm just not used to making small talk with the over-50 crowd. I could have used Hammer's help navigating!

I was interested in talking to both Newspaper-Man and the Senator, but at the same time, I wasn't romantically or sexually interested in either of them, and I wasn't sure how to handle their flirtatious overtures. The two of them kept flitting back and forth between political banter with the lawyers and flirtatious banter with me. For the most part, I ignored the political talk. NY City politics is its own incestuous little world and unless you pay attention to city council meetings, union activities, the school board, the police department, DA office politics and every fucking mayoral press conference, it's hard to hold your own. (I'm not THAT addicted to NY1!)

As the evening went on, the Senator was getting pretty drunk and kept trying to stand closer to me so that he would have to brush against me. He didn't do anything creepy or inappropriate, but I could see that his friend Newspaper-Man was watching like a hawk to make sure the Senator didn't embarrass himself. It was strange.

Then Newspaper-Man invited me to the Senator's fundraising party, to be held the following evening.

"It's going to be great!" he said. "It's hosted by the K's." (The K's are very wealthy New Yorkers-- well known supporters of Giuliani).

"The K's? Really? I think my mom did some work with one of them. She's an attorney out on Long Island," I said.

"I'm sure she has," said Newspaper-Man.

He started to tell me about my neighborhood back when he used to work for the Daily News in the late '70s.

"The neighborhood was dead back then," he said. "McFadden's was the only night life around!"

"I'm not so into McFadden's," I told him. "Too crowded these days. Not my scene."

Then he started talking about some swanky party he attended that afternoon in Howard Beach.
"Was it at Russo's on the Bay?" I guessed. "My cousin got married there. The food there? Fucking incredible."

"Yeah, it's amazing!" he said. "Over the top! So... what are you? Italian?"

"No. But my stepfather is. And believe me--that was a huge Italian wedding."

"I'm Italian, but I'm not," the senator piped in.

"What does that mean?" I asked.

"That I'm Italian, but I'm not."

"Well, I have the big Italian family," I said. "But I'm not Italian. So... I guess that means that I'm Italian, but I'm not."

I was getting tired at that point and my neck was feeling a little stiff. I started rubbing my shoulder.

"Here! Let me do that," the senator said. He started to massage my shoulders and neck. I could tell that Newspaper-Man was getting nervous and that all of those lawyers were envious that I was getting so much attention from these two.

Who is this random girl, all grungy in her sweatshirt and jeans, knowing nothing about NY politics and getting all this attention? they must have been wondering. I'm telling you guys-- it was weird. I was not done up, or anything, that night.

They continued to urge me to come to the party.

"It's going to be at the Ritz Carlton Battery Park," the Senator said. "The nicest one in the city!"

"You guys aren't serious," I protested. (I really couldn't tell.)

"Of course we are!" laughed Newspaper-Man. "And bring a friend!"

"Isn't there a list to get in?"

"Just give them this card," the Senator said, writing the address on the back. "Tell them I gave it to you. I'll see that you get in!"

I still felt a little dubious, but they kept reassuring me that they wanted me to come. Finally, I agreed.

In the meanwhile, one of the lawyers-- a woman, with an indeterminate accent, kept trying to take "candid" photos of the two of them. I don't think Newspaper-Man was too keen on that idea, as his good friend the Senator was clearly drunk. So, not long after that, they decided to take off. I was sober and not as effervescent as I usually am at such a late hour, and so I was unsure of how to say goodbye. I awkwardly extended my hand which Newspaper-Man kindly shook. The Senator, however, tried to come in for a kiss. I turned my cheek so that he would have to miss my mouth. What a weird night!

After that, I moved away from the lawyers (all of whom seemed rather hostile) and I relocated at the other end of the bar. The only other customer was familiar to me. I realized I had met him at Cheers just last week (the night that Mr. Qatar started talking to me). He reintroduced himself as "BlackSheep."

"Yeah, I know you," I said. "You live in my building, right? Twelfth floor? Same unit as me!"

He was shocked I remembered him.

"This girl has a phenomenal memory!" IrishBird bragged to him. "She's a historian. She knows every detail, every date, every conversation."

Yeah, when I'm not blacking out, that is, I thought bitterly.

Anyway, BlackSheep was really drunk and kind of strange. He kept telling me that he is the "Black Sheep" of our building.

"I really don't think so," I said. "There are a lot of odd characters in our building. Why do you think you're a black sheep?"

"Because I'm a bad ass," he grinned.

Ugh! I rolled my eyes.

I hate people who have to advertise how "bad" they are. It's a pet peeve of mine. In my opinion, you just do or do not. Unless you're recounting a story among friends, what's the point of all the "big talking?" Not to get all skater-slang on you, but this guy definitely seemed like a poseur.

Anyway, IrishBird wanted the scoop on Newspaper-Man and the Senator. I filled her in the best I could. While I was doing so, one of the lawyers at the other end of the bar called out to BlackSheep.

"What the fuck are you looking at?"

"I'm not looking at anything! What the fuck are you looking at?"

This thing was escalating. IrishBird did her best to calm them down, encouraged me to go to the fundraiser party and kissed me good night.

Well... that never happened. I seriously considered going to the party, but I had started taking valium that week and found myself entirely knocked out on Thursday afternoon. I fell asleep at around 3:00 pm and didn't wake up again until 8:00! Even worse-- Bezoukhoff had come over for lunch. He was sitting at my computer talking to me when I fell asleep! What a terrible hostess I am! He is the most understanding person ever, though, and didn't seem to mind a bit.

Hmmm... What else?

In other news-- I told you guys I had been hearing from Double-T again, right? Well, he texted me to tell me that he might be at Cheers on Thursday night.

How's all with you? he asked.

But then later...

Looks like no Cheers for me tonight. I'll definitely bug you next time I'm in your neck of the woods though. And I DID finally get some good news on the apt front. The coop board approved me yesterday so all that's left to do now is close-- and then the REAL work starts!

We went on texting back and forth about apartment stuff for a while. And then...

TT: Yes, it's quite a relief. Thanks again for putting up with my whining.

H: You never whined. Setting up a new place is the fun part now. I'm having urges to spring clean and rearrange furniture myself...

TT: Don't squish Mr. Rochester under the ottoman!

H: Never! :)

So that's it... In the illustrious words of Narc, "no biggie." But TT is definitely proving himself to be a much better "friend" than I thought he would be. He is winning my respect just by virtue of sticking around despite my insanity.

So.... where was I in terms of Thursday night? Oh yes! TT was going to be a no-show at Cheers. I decided to go anyway. It ended up being another strange night for me. The world becomes so much more absurd when you hang out at bars and don't drink.

When I arrived on Thursday, I was immediately spotted by the Smolderer who made it a point to attach himself to me the whole night.

"Are you here alone?" he asked me.

"Um, yeah."

"Well, that's a first!" he laughed. "Every time I see you here you're talking to someone else! It's like 45 minutes a guy... You're a one woman speed-dating service!"

Was that supposed to be a compliment? Guys can be so fucked up...

Whatever... I sang Bobby McGee and did a much better job of it than I thought I would. As for conversation with the Smolderer? It continued to be strange. First of all, he told me that in addition to having a band (which I can't quite imagine), he's a "life coach." Second of all, he highly recommended the Landmark Forum. This was all WAY too Narc for me! (Narc recommended Landmark the first time I met him. He also used to have a life coach for a while.) Third of all, I am not physically attracted to the Smolderer in the slightest, so I felt a little strange accepting all of his attention, knowing it wasn't going to get him anywhere. (I am definitely not a tease, and don't like playing the part. It goes along with my whole "can't stand 'big talkers'" mentality.) On the other hand, the Smolderer wasn't being so sleazy that it warranted a rude rebuttal. So I felt myself in a difficult spot.

The night wore on. It was getting late. I drank so many diet cokes I'm surprised I wasn't pissing straight cola. The Smolderer tried to put his arm around me.

"What would you say if I told you the only reason I'm still here is to keep company with you?" he asked me.

I squirmed away a bit. "I'd say I didn't believe you," I laughed.

He changed his tact and tried to be a little more intense.

"How are you?" he asked.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, in terms of all of that stuff you were dealing with. You know-- you confided in me..."

"What??? I confided in you? Sorry if I don't remember. What do you know about my life?"

"Just that you were seeing that guy," he said. "Are you still? And that you were smoking a lot of weed."

This guy is full of shit. He was acting like he remembered everything about me, but I would never have said that I smoke a lot of weed. I don't! I don't smoke marijuana more than once every few months. And I certainly would never have mentioned it as a problem. This guy was about to put on his life coach act. I can't stand that kind of pretension-- especially from people who aren't nearly as smart as I am. Now I was annoyed.

I excused myself to go to the rest room. As I headed towards the back of the bar, I saw PumpedUp sitting at a table with Duff. He called me over.

"So, is it true Hyde? Is it true that I hear you've stopped drinking?"

"Well, for the moment," I said.

"You've had nothing at all tonight?"

The two of them looked at me eagerly anticipating the answer.

I would love to be a fly on the wall just ONCE to hear what those boys say about me behind my back.

"I can't!" I laughed. "I'm on valium. And it fucking sucks."

"I'm surprised you're not drinking with the valium," PumpedUp said.

"I'm not into downers," I smiled. "It's all about uppers. And I hate this feeling."

The two of them laughed. I felt kind of crappy about the exchange, but pretended that I didn't care.

Anyway, for the remainder of the night, I kept dealing with the Smolderer, even though he was annoying me. As soon as my last song was called, I tried to leave. IrishBird pulled me aside.

"Are you okay?" she asked. "When you came in here tonight your eyes looked all red and puffy. Were you crying?"

Of course I was crying! I wanted to say.

"No, I'm fine," I smiled at her. "I just woke up from a nap, that's all."

"Oh... okay."

Anyway, that was my Thursday night.

Friday was a teaching day and so, I taught all day. Only two more of those killer Fridays left for me!

Hallelujah!

Even though I didn't take any of the valium that day, I still felt woozy and knocked out that afternoon. I fell asleep before Hammer's party and didn't end up waking up until around 8:30 or so in the evening. As the party began at 9:00, I was running late. I quickly dressed and headed to Cheers for a pit stop before getting there. I figured it was okay to drink (even though I had resolved to quit) because I hadn't taken any valium that day. So I had two Jack Daniels before hopping in a cab to Hammer's place. The bartender from Backfence (who is friends with BarMan) was at Cheers and she recognized me from the two times I had been to Backfence to hear BarMan play. I chatted with her for a little while before I took off.

When I got to Hammer's, there weren't that many people there yet-- just Hammer, CurlyQ, Angel, Maximus and another friend of Hammer's, AbrasiveGirl. (Maybe she's not all that bad, but I really don't know her well, and she came across as quite abrasive!)

"So, what's your story, Hyde?" she bluntly asked as I came in.

"It's too long and too complicated for a party," I said.

AbrasiveGirl also asked me what type of men I like. "Maybe I can set you up," she suggested.

Um, no...

I told her that there was no way I could explain my "type" to her. All I could think of was Narc anyway. (What was I supposed to say? smart and creative but socially awkward, starved for love, unavailable, unkempt, delusional, slightly violent, alcoholic, emotionally abusive?)

Someone said something about "nebbishy men." I told her I didn't have a "nebbish fetish." She thought that was hysterical and said she wants to get a t-shirt printed up that says "nebbish fetish."

Anyway, overall, it was a fun party, although it was a little strange to have all of the Hammer characters amassed in one place at one time. Maximus and I got in trouble from Hammer for accidentally triggering the fire alarm when we went up to the roof. We smoked cigarettes up there for a while and bonded over our love of illicit substances. He recommended that I listen to a singer named Neko Case.

A bunch of anthropology people showed up (one of whom went to college with Hammer) and I ended up talking to another of them on the roof. In the middle of that conversation, NDN called to tell me he just got a hand-job from some girl. (Yes, my neighbor and I are very close!).

Later on, back in Hammer's apartment, I ate a delicious chocolate covered strawberry, drank some more and met Hammer's ballet friends. We discovered that we share a love of Marlon Brando. Just then, Mohawk showed up at the party. He joined in on the conversation about Brando, although he has never seen any of Brando's earlier movies, so he didn't understand why Ballet-Girl and I both think Brando is so hot.

"Even in the later stuff though... He's hot in Last Tango in Paris too!" I said.

Overall, I thought Mohawk was a little standoffish...

"Let's play subway!" I said, in reference to the movie Hammer and I saw with Mohawk last week-- Next Stop Greenwich Village. Hammer and Mohawk laughed.

Anyway, as the evening dwindled down, Mohawk left and Hammer got drunk. Those of us who remained-- me, CurlyQ, Maximus (who had left and then returned) and Sissy all took to analyzing Hammer's situation with Mohawk based on the information she provided. She was giving out a lot of information because she was drunk and I thought it was very cute. Sissy advised Hammer not to speak to Mohawk for three weeks (which I TOTALLY didn't understand!) and it was clear that she didn't get some of the things that Hammer and I both find attractive in men, but I won't say more than that. I'll leave it to Hammer to write about her business with Mohawk on her own blog.

And then there were three. At the end of the night, it was just me and Maximus. Hammer was falling asleep on the bed. I got her a glass of water and headed for the door, my jacket in tow.

"Where are you going?" Maximus asked.

"Midtown. To my bar first, and then home."

I was already pretty drunk at that point.

"I don't feel like going home just yet," he said. "Do you have a couch?"

"Um, yeah..."

"Mind if I crash on it?"

"No problem."

Maximus and I jumped in a cab and were on our way. I introduced him around to everyone at Cheers, but I don't think that it was his scene. We didn't stay there too long, as they were closing. Maximus went across the street to the deli and got a salami sandwich and ate it at the bar. We each had two more drinks. I was feeling very groggy and was having difficulty seeing straight. I was sure it was the valium. Even though I hadn't taken any that day, it was clearly still in my system and was interacting with the alcohol. My alcohol tally for the night was not that high, and yet I felt non-functional. It was a completely unfamiliar kind of non-functional and I hated it.

Maximus and I didn't have too much to say to each other at the bar, except to discuss the one thing we have in common-- Hammer. We analyzed a little bit about her, but it was kind of awkward because I didn't want to say too much. Hammer wasn't happy with all of that when I mentioned it to her later. But again, I'll leave it at that...

Back at my place, I was determined to make that groggy feeling go away. So I took out the small remainder of my my "medicine" and did a line. It helped a little in the short run, but didn't fix the dizziness or the stupefied feeling. I offered one to Maximus too. Then I just tossed him a cover and a pillow and went to crash in my room.

The next morning was sheer misery. I woke up at around 10:30, muddled and wobbly, stumbling into the bathroom. I could not seem to find my balance and couldn't help but crash into walls. It scared me. I glanced into the living room. Maximus was still on the couch. I went back to bed. I got up again at around 12:00 pm. Maximus had gone.

My mom was coming to pick me up at 1:30, as we had plans to discuss "money matters" before my cousin's communion party that night, but I was scared because I just couldn't sober up. I drank two red bulls and I ate a sandwich. Nothing was working. I kept dozing off. I couldn't stay awake. My body was shutting down big time. I called her and asked her if she could come a little later. She agreed. I bought myself an hour, but I was still terrified that my body wouldn't be working in time. It was the most awful feeling in the world.

Anyway, the rest of Saturday I really don't want to talk about, as I am still feeling too vulnerable and I don't know what to think, let alone how to share it with anyone else. The bottom line-- I talked to my mom (and later my sister) about my drinking problem. I told my mom that I need her help. I can't go back now. She's not going to let it slide. As NDN put it, I built myself a "road block" on my path to self-destruction. I tried to go a week off alcohol and even on the valium, I didn't make it. That sucks, and in the end, I'm not stupid. My dad only lived to be 47. If I follow suit, that would make my life nearly 2/3 over. For me, Narc = alcohol and alcohol = Narc and as long as he was around, I knew that if I gave up drinking, I would be giving up him. I seem to have lost him anyway. So... For now, that's all I'm going to say about that, as I don't want to talk about it. But it was the hardest conversation I've ever had in my entire life.

The rest of Saturday, I felt like a zombie. I did have a good time at my cousin's communion party, as I particularly like this kid. He's so weird and has such a strange and clever sense of humor for a seven year old. He is learning to play piano and is always excited to tell me about it, as he knows I'm the "family musician."

I didn't get back to the city until nearly 1:00 am on Saturday night. Even then, all I wanted to do was go to Cheers, but I didn't. Instead I took two valium and passed out. I slept for twelve hours.

The next day, I lay in bed once I was awake. I was still groggy and couldn't stay awake for very long. I kept crying and dozing off again. I think I managed to be awake from 2:00 pm-5:00 pm, and cried for most of those hours. I just felt like shit emotionally, physically, spiritually... in every way. I thought a lot about Narc. I made it out to get a bite for lunch. I made it back to my living room. Then I fell asleep again on my couch.

When I woke up, it was after 8:00 and dark out. I watched a lot more television, talked to Hammer on the phone for a while and then talked to my friend Jake. (I don't see him all that often. He's a friend from college, and just got a new job at some law firm.)

My mom had brought some of my things out from storage so once I had some more energy last night, I started going through the box. You know how I obsessively save everything? Well I found a tape of old voice mails that I had transferred onto cassette from 1997-1998. I had a voice mail from B that is nearly 10 years old! It was very cool.

The creepy part though? I had a message from my old choir director that made me feel really weird. There's a whole long story behind that that I don't have the energy to go into right now, but the bottom line-- he was in his late fifties/early sixties when I met him (I was 17) and he really boosted my self-esteem in terms of singing. He was a brilliant musician and I looked up to him a lot. But then things turned sleazy and he crossed all sorts of sexual boundaries and it fucked with my head. When I was 20 I finally confronted him and he spent the next year passive-aggressively "punishing me." Like I said-- a long story for another day. Hearing his voice on that message was strange. He was playing Mon coeur s'ouevre a ta voix on piano in the background of the message-- an aria I was working on at the time that he told me was "the most seductive aria in the female repertoire." I played the message for Hammer.

After that I ate some corn on the cob and talked to NDN for a bit on the phone. And then I went to sleep.

This morning I taught some more on the Reformation. One student asked me which sections I am teaching next semester (as they are all taking the first half of a two-semester class and need to register for the second half soon). I told her to come see me at the end of class. Once class ended, all of a sudden, I was flooded with students-- ten to fifteen of them gathered around my desk, all eager to see next semester's course number so they can be sure to get me as their teacher. Wow. It felt really good that they've all had such a positive experience in my class! These days, I really need that kind of feedback.

So, that's it for now. The winds of change are blowing hard. It's been 18 days, seven hours and 54 minutes since I've seen Narc. Aside from his trip to Europe, the longest I've gone without seeing him has been 20 days. So, I'm thinking this is really it. (I know it has to be "it," if I really want to turn my life around, but still...) Like I said, I've been internet stalking him a little, but whatever... His birthday is in 10 days. That makes me sad.

Anyway, I'm having lunch with B this afternoon and then I have a chorus rehearsal tonight. (A women's sectional). At the end of the week, Flash will be here! Can you believe it???

Hope you are all well and that you all had a good weekend... Sorry if this got long and if it was a bitch to read.

love,
hyde