Holy Discomfort

It's Monday again! But this time with an open week stretched out ahead of me-- no teaching! I know I need to take this time to turn things around and to get going on my incompletes, but it's hard. It's always the hardest thing to start.

Until around 1:00 pm today, I felt the tug of my spiral downwards urging me to lay in bed and mope, but I forced myself up. I still didn't feel quite right. I talked to Hammer for a bit on the phone and then I called B. Sometimes I really hate him--for a million and one reasons that are too personal to go into here. But because of it, sometimes when I talk to him, I feel myself being manipulative-- making him feel bad or guilty on purpose and then I hate myself for it. I was doing just that today. When I hung up with him I started to cry-- about everything-- about that overriding feeling of helplessness that I just can't seem to shake.

And then, I don't know why, but I took a Vivarin. I started to feel better. I crushed up another one and snorted it-- pretty stupid, I know, but it did the trick. I cleaned up a bit, taking out the piles of accumulated garbage and throwing all of the random dirty clothes around my house into the hamper. Then I went out and got some food for lunch. When I got back, I called B to apologize for making him my emotional dumping ground. Then I got on my exercise bike and cycled for half an hour. I'm feeling a million times better now (albeit pretty sweaty!).

If this is really "it" for me and Narc (and I suppose I shouldn't qualify that by saying "if" but I can't help it!) then, can I blame myself for struggling a bit? I think the most important thing for me to focus on this week is staying off the alcohol. It clouds my thinking about everything and I spend my entire life either drunk or hungover-- neither a condition conducive to moving forward with things!

So the past few days have been a bit of a roller coaster! As you know, on Wednesday night I was out with Narc and Couchy until around 5:00 am, getting told by CouchSleeper that I should "run the other way" and then getting left in the street by Narc. Enough of that...

**********************

Thursday was a new day and I spent most of it recovering from the night before. At around 3:00 pm I met NDN to head to Long Island. I had invited him to Passover at my Aunt's place. We never have a real Seder, as my family is entirely secular, so Passover for us is more of a family gathering over food than it is a religious holiday. I really love religion though (most all of them!) and I cherish the moments on the calendar that provide a sort of sacred space for reflection. My family always leaves it to me to try to imbue a little meaning into the holidays, and so I tried to make us at least recount the Passover story. What I love most about this holiday week and the moment at which it has arrived in my life are the themes of "liberation," "death" and "resurrection." God knows, I need it...

My mom dropped me and NDN off at the train station (where we proceeded to miss our train) and while we were waiting there, I got a very strange text from TT.

So despite our conversation on Saturday, I don't think we can be friends anymore, he wrote.

I was really confused. Then he wrote again:

My phone is about to start charging me for outgoing AND incoming text messages. You'll BANKRUPT me! Catch you later.

Was he trying to be cute? I immediately wrote back:

Huh? I'm confused.

His reply:

Did you read all the messages? I'm just funnin' with ya. I sent them milliseconds apart so you wouldn't misunderstand. (See how well that worked out...)

So I called him. I really just don't click with his entire energy, nor his sense of humor. Why would he be making jokes like that at such a sensitive moment in our "relationship?" The phone call was not much better. I endured a murderous ten minutes of pointless chit chat during which I felt I had to carry the entire conversation.

"Yeah, so I'll talk to you soon," I said as I hung up.

Whatever. The whole TT thing needs to be MAJORLY placed on the back burner right now. I'm just dealing with too much in the rest of my life.

When I got back to my place, I was restless and depressed. I had bought a new journal that morning in the hopes of "starting over" with a life purged of Narc. So I said good night to NDN and went to Cheers with my journal.

My heart was hurting with a dull aching constriction and I got drunk quickly. Everything seemed surreal-- like a bad nightmare from which I couldn't escape. A man in a blue bow-tie sang "Mothers-- don't let your babies grow up to be cowboys." And all I could think of was what CouchSleeper had said.

"I know you know why I love Narc," I told him. "You must love him too-- you're his best friend!"

He laughed at me.

"I don't love him!" he said. "And I certainly don't love him like you do!"

I couldn't rid myself of that.

I knew nearly everyone at Cheers that night-- FightingMensch, Duff, PumpedUp, the RedFaced Lawyer, Manwich, Masseuse, KHill (yes, KHill was back!) a guy named Dave that I had met the previous Monday and Nickle-- a friend of TT's (in fact the link between me and TT when I "re-met" him back in January).

It's the same night over and over, I thought. You're trapped in the same fucking night. Life is not moving! It's never moving! It's never moving!

And indeed, I felt trapped. I thought of Narc and Couchy sitting at the Patriot, probably doing the exact same thing as they do every night-- as Narc and I do every night. They were probably sitting there getting smashed on Jack, unwittingly memorizing Gretchen Wilson songs, and Johnny Cash and Tammy Wynette.

KHill was ignoring me the whole night. It was not what I needed for my self-esteem at that moment. I hadn't seen him since early February-- the night I was making out with Double-T in the bar.

I sang the song "Crazy."

Afterwards, KHill cheered my name and "high-fived" me. Okay, so things were not so bad. I was just being paranoid. I bought a shot for him and one for Masseuse. Masseuse told me that she broke up with FightingMensch but that she still wants to fuck him.

"Yeah, I know the feeling," I said.

Someone shouted the name "Coogan," urging a friend to get up and sing. And I thought of Coogan's-- a bar up near Columbia Medical School where I used to hang out with a boy named AIR7 long, long ago.

A man from Qatar started to talk to me. He wanted to buy me drinks. He works for the UN (as do most of the "foreign" men in my neighborhood). I drank with abandon-- four shots of Jager in 15 minutes. The man from Qatar widened his eyes at that. I wished he would go home. Eventually he did.

At the end of the night, there was nobody left except for me, ThursdayGirl, IrishBird and BarMan.

"Whether you say 'I can' or you say 'I can't,' you're right," BarMan said.

I was too drunk to understand, so I wrote it down.

ThursdayGirl had a bruise on her arm.

"What's that from?" I asked.

"Oh, from him throwing me around a bit!" she laughed, gesturing towards BarMan.

"I love those," I said.

"No you don't, Hyde!" BarMan glared. "And if you ever come in here with one again, I'll never call you again!"

"I don't mind them," I said. "And you never call me anyway!"

Everyone started to crack up. I felt like I was losing my mind. The bar was closing. Was it 3:00 am?

So, I went to Manchester.

I arrived alone, but saw the bouncer from Cheers there.

"Do-re-mi!" he called out in greeting. (That's his nickname for me).

Sean Duffy was out with a back problem. The substitute bartender offered me a shot for a "bump."

"I don't have anything on me," I said.

I drank two drinks there, and I dialed Narc. I heard his machine and hung up the phone.

Shit! Shit! Shit, Hyde! I thought.

I sent myself a text to let myself know in the morning that I hadn't left him a message (just in case of a blackout). And then it hit me. I was drunk-- too drunk to be out by myself-- even just five blocks from my house. The bouncer had left. I was alone and suddenly feeling stupid. I paid my tab and got up to leave. I felt woozy and unsteady. I didn't want to stumble home alone. I was scared. So I hailed a cab. The cab driver laughed at me, as I was only going four blocks. He didn't even turn the meter on.

"Don't you need that meter?" I asked.

"Don't worry about it, dear," he said.

I gave him five dollars.

Then I was asleep.

**********************

Thank God I set my cell phone alarm, I thought as I opened my eyes to a head-pounding Friday morning.

I had promised B to meet him at church, and I didn't want to fail-- for my sake as much as for his. I always take well to Good Friday services. As fast as I tried to get myself together, I was still ten minutes late to meet him. Walking to the church, I was overwhelmed with emotions and started to cry a little on the street. I wiped back my tears as best I could when I saw him sitting on the cool stone steps.

"You're late," he grumbled.

"I know-- but only ten minutes late, and I'm not late for the service. It hasn't started yet, has it?"

"No, but that's not the point, Hyde!" he snapped at me. "You're late and it's just not cool!"

"Okay! I'm sorry! Let's just forget it. Let's not start the day like this. We're going to church. Can't you just start the day with a little forgiveness?"

"Oh, so now I'M the bad guy?" he barked at me.

I couldn't deal with it. B and I are often at odds over small issues like this, but this time I was so emotionally raw that I had ZERO tolerance for any kind of conflict.

"Forget it! I'm leaving!" I cried.

I turned and ran down the church steps, rounding the corner as fast as I could. There I stood with my back pressed again the side of the building, sobbing. I didn't care if the tourists were looking. I just felt pain, and my pounding head didn't help.

When I managed to calm my breathing, I thought about it all again. I wanted to go to church. I needed to clear that space in my head and in my heart. I needed that feeling of peace and safety. I didn't want my quarrel with B to take that from me, so I headed back in. I made sure to sit on the other side of the church-- across the aisle and a few rows behind B so that he couldn't easily spot me.

Fuck him! I thought, angry and sad all at once.

But then, I couldn't stop crying. I hated myself so much, overwhelmed with worthlessness. The organ music crunched down on me, pinning my shoulders under the weight of its sound.

Nothing I do is right. I can't do this, I can't do this, I can't do this, I thought.

I can't do it! I can't do it!

I haven't felt that kind of "helpless" suicidal in a long time. But at that moment, I wouldn't have minded just ending everything. I know it's because I'm being a coward, but still-- it's how I felt. Fixing it all just seems like so much work-- so much insurmountable work!


While the entire service was beautiful, it was the homily that I found most meaningful. The church will have a printed copy of the sermon available next week, so I'm hesitant to write about it too much without having it to look back upon, but the theme of the sermon was "Holy Discomfort." She talked about the presence of Mary and the disciples at the foot of the cross, present, even in the face of helplessness and pain.

"There is no place to be but here," she said.

And I'm sure that she was talking about the greater sorrows in the world-- about not turning one's back on the impossible problems of poverty and injustice, even when we are "helpless" to do anything about it. But the idea of remaining present in the face of one's discomfort and helplessness as a "holy" act in and of itself struck a particular chord with me that afternoon in terms of my own life, and it really did help me. "Helpless" is not a feeling I'm good at sitting with.

About half an hour into the service (and before the homily), B turned his head and saw me sobbing, snotty, red-faced and all alone. He got up and made his way over to me without a word, putting his arm around me and kissing my hair. I felt a million times better. I cried a little harder for five minutes and then stopped. It felt good to have such a good friend.

After the service we went to a small cafe where he got a coffee and I ate some soup. We talked and talked and talked about religion and life, spirituality, fear, anxiety and about how neither of us is very good at "sitting" with negative feelings. I decided to erase all of my texts from Narc. Normally I flip through them once or twice a day and think about him, but if I really mean to rid myself of this destructive force in my life, I have to mean it! While I still haven't been able to bring myself to erase his voice mails, with B next to me, I reread the texts one by one and pressed "erase" each time. It was really hard for me, but I did it. (Remember, I'm the same girl who saved his ice ream in my freezer for about seven months!).

Mid-afternoon, B and I parted ways and I talked to Hammer on the phone while I walked home. She told me about how her Brother and future Sister-in-Law have become Groom-and-Bridezilla!

For the rest of Friday I was too exhausted-- emotionally spent and heavy to do much of anything. I crawled into bed early and watched a few old movies including The Lost Weekend and Blackboard Jungle.

My favorite quotes from the Lost Weekend:

On taking a drink:
"It's like stepping off a roof and expecting to fall just one floor!"

And:
"She knows she's clutching a razor blade but she won't let go."

Blackboard Jungle was most remarkable for the young Sidney Poitier.

So, at long last-- Finally, that night, some sleep was to be had!

**********************

For an update on the rest of the weekend, you'll have to wait some more. I'm tired of writing, for now...

love,
hyde

On the one hand... On the other

I have a moderately long post brewing about the weekend, but I'm not in the mood to do it right now. On the one hand, this weekend included a lot (A LOT) of drinking, which I'm not feeling great about. On the other, I did a lot of "spritual" business with myself, spent a lot of time with my family and NDN and managed to avoid "apologizing" to Narc.

I'm tired right now and want to take a shower, so the post will have to come later. I just wanted to drop in and say hi, as I usually don't wait so long between posts. I'm glad Hammer is back in NY.

Hope you all had a Happy Passover/Easter or just a happy weekend, if you don't celebrate either.

love,
hyde

PS: As of yesterday, VJ is now a "Mrs."! Congratulations!!!

The Long Lost Argentina-Food Post

I know this may seem strange coming now-- four months after the trip, but I need something to do besides think of Narc. I liked making this post-- it's something I said I would do a long time ago, and it's better late than never, right? Why didn't I do this in January, right when I got back? I was heartbroken and caught up in the fact that Narc invited PopStarChick to my favorite opera for her birthday...

But this is NOT going to be a Narc post!

The food in Argentina was absolutely amazing, and back in December I promised NDN that I was going to write an entire post celebrating it. Albeit delayed, I am a girl who is true to her word. So I take you on a tour now through the food-experiences of Argentina!

On our very first day there we went for high tea at the Alvear Palace Hotel. Isn't it beautiful? NDN knew a woman who worked as a waitress there, and guess what? She was still there! They brought us a few complimentary sandwiches.





























Then, on one of the first nights there we ate fried pork cracklings and mote with NDN's Bolivian friends. (Mote is a kind of corn that is boiled until it is fat and bloated). They fed their children coca-cola in baby bottles. The restaurant was in an old garage on the outskirts of town. Stray dogs wandered about and some of the diners danced with napkins. The beer on the table? Why, Quilmes, of course!























Here we have one of the famous Argentine grills. In Buenos Aires NDN and I walked up and down this restaurant strip a million times looking for a particular restaurant that he remembered. The steaks were sooooooo good! Yum!























Halfway through the week we left Buenos Aires and headed to Carilo-- a wooded beach town about four hours from the capital. Men walk up and down the beach selling corn on the cob from little carts. Here's some weird guy on the beach enjoying his corn.






















This next picture was taken on the only day of the trip during which NDN and I fought. We were both excessively drunk, which I proceeded to make worse by leaving him on the beach, heading into town and drinking a whole other bottle of wine on top of the several we had already consumed. I also ate this yummy pizza.

I thought I had a picture of the Argentine pizza we enjoyed in Buenos Aires, but I can't find it. That pizza is called Fugazzeta and is made with no tomato sauce, but instead piles of cheese and onions. (Strangely, I also can't find the pictures of our fondu night, so you'll have to go without seeing that. It was good, though!)






















Below is the remedy for my romantic woes. If I can learn how to make calamari this delicious, NDN has agreed to marry me. Hmmm....





















Here is a shop in the town of Carilo. I smuggled back some sausages for my stepfather, and NDN purchased a Serrano ham which was just consumed at his dinner party. It wasn't very good. (As NDN put it-- it was better before it was eaten-- when it was just hanging in the kitchen!)





















Here is some more heavenly steak. Each one only cost around six bucks, so NDN and I each ended up ordering two! (I had to take half of the second one home, but it wasn't for lack of trying!)





















Not just the steak, but the ice cream was heavenly too! In fact, it appeared to be some sort of national obsession. Ice cream parlors were packed well into the night-- at 1:00 or 2:00 in the morning it was not unusual to see old folks and children still lined up to get some ice cream! The best flavor-- Dulce de Leche con Brownie!!! (I could only sample small sizes though-- talk about a sugar crash!)






















NDN and I also enjoyed fabulous breakfasts in Argentina. Here is a picture of NDN's orange juice glasses lined up like shots. Once he stacked the glasses on top of each other making a "Tower o' OJ" (in reference to my infamous "Tower o' Whiskey!")



























I will conclude this post with a shot of the only home-cooking we had while there. We ate the "New Year's Eve Meal" with the family of one of NDN's good friends. There are too many items on the table to name, but it was all tasty-- a lot of salads and things like that.





















So, that's it!

Okay... So it hasn't entirely worked. I'm still thinking of Narc. But I think that I need to be patient with myself. What did I sing at karaoke last night? Patsy Cline's "Crazy." (Dan-- I know you always tell me that I'm NOT crazy, but I think the song is rather appropriate right now.)

Crazy, I'm crazy for feeling so lonely
I'm crazy, crazy for feeling so blue

Worry, why do I let myself worry?
Wond'ring what in the world did I do?

Crazy for thinking that my love could hold you
I'm crazy for trying and crazy for crying
And I'm crazy for loving you

Yesterday, Today, Tomorrow, Forever

Today I'm going to church with B for Good Friday. I'm meeting him in 20 minutes and I still have to grab something to eat, so I better move my ass.

Tonight I'm having dinner with Anxious. She wants to show me the ring BulgarianGuy got for her. (Not an engagement ring, though, as she was sure to point out).

Last night I went to my aunt's house for Passover. NDN came along.

Last night TT sent me a bunch of very strange texts (I'll fill you in on all that later).

Last night I saw KHill for the first time in a few months.

Did he pee on you? Hammer asked.

Ha ha!

Yesterday, the day before and the day before that I got very drunk. Not good enough, Hyde!

The day before yesterday I wrote to Narc: I am never going to see you again. I still mean it. But it scares me. I can't erase his voice mails. I just love his voice too much.

And "forever?" I can't fathom it.

But I'm going to church now.

It's April

Do you remember what I said back in December?

"To Be Alone in Winter is a Deadly Thing."
SOL D'INVERNO E COSA DA MORIRE!

"No one is alone in April."
NIUNO E SOLO L'APRIL.


April, come she will,
When streams are ripe and swelled with rain.
May, she will stay,
Resting in my arms again.
June, she'll change her tune.
In restless walks she'll prowl the night.
July, she will fly,
And give no warning to her flight.
August, die she must.
The autumn winds blow chilly and cold.
September, I'll remember.
A love once new has now grown old.

-Simon & Garfunkel-

What Happened?

I'll say it plainly-- I will NEVER see Narc again.

Nor will I ever tell any of you what happened tonight. If I DO see him again consider me a weak and worthless piece of shit because that is what I'll be.

Over, Over, Over.

Has it ever been as easy as this?

Funny to describe a broken-- a decimated-- heart as "easy."

Thank god for alcohol, right?

Thank god for the numbness...

-h-

Something Strange

Even though I drank last night and went to bed filled with self-hatred, I woke up with an opening paragraph for my Italian History paper in my head, and the following song looping round. I quickly wrote out the paragraph, and here's the song. (Perhaps I should make something of it...)



COMES ONCE IN A LIFETIME

From the Broadway Show "Subways Are For Sleeping" (1961)
(Jule Styne / Betty Comden / Adolph Green)

Every day, just go along dawn till sundown
Here's a rundown
Every day that comes, comes once in a lifetime

Take each day and gather the rosebuds in it
Fill each minute
Every day that comes, comes once in a lifetime

Think of now, tomorrow is waiting in the wings
Who knows what it brings
While the future waits, the present swings

Day to day, in Brooklyn or China 'cross the bay
Only once comes this particular sky
Only once these precious hours go by
Only once in a lifetime the day comes by
So live, live, live, live today

Think of now, tomorrow is waiting in the wings
Who knows what it brings
While the future waits, the present swings

From day to day, in Brooklyn or China 'cross the bay
Only once comes this particular sky
Only once these precious hours go by
Only once in a lifetime a day comes by

So live, live, live, come on and live today

Scattered

I talked to a guy named Jim.
I met a guy named Mace.
I drank more than I should have.
I want Narc. (I DO! God, I do!)

I'm a sick, sick girl.

My mouth is dry.
My pillow calls.

I am filled with self-hatred.

-h-

The Denouement

So, I finished chewing on my straw.

At 1:00 am I still hadn't heard from Narc and I hadn't texted him back. So I decided to get into bed.

Then he wrote again:
Group still going. Call in a few.

This time I wrote back:
K. But I may be going to bed soon. Have 9:30 therapy tomorrow...

I was tired. I fell asleep without much difficulty.

The next thing I knew, it was 3:00 am and the phone was ringing. It was Narc and he wanted to "crash at my place."

"Okay, but we've got to go right to sleep," I murmured. "I'm already sleeping."

"Yeah, I just thought it would be easier 'cause I'm in your neighborhood," he explained. "I'll be there in 10."

He was on Eighth Avenue. That is not in my neighborhood! Anyway, he arrived with a groan and a claim to be "dying!"

"What's wrong?" I asked. "It's not the morning! How can you be dying?"

"Just exhausted from tonight-- from the critique of my script and all that."

Narc lit a cigarette and sat on a stool at my kitchen counter. I rubbed my eyes and tried to listen to what he was saying. My brain was foggy and thick with sleep.

"I've really got to head back to bed," I said, when he had finished with his smoke.

We climbed into bed together, but again-- he left his underwear on. Fine. No sex. He did cuddle me though. I was back asleep within minutes.

This morning I woke up at 8:15 and got dressed. Then I walked up to my therapists office. When I got out, I spoke to Hammer on the phone and ate a bagel. It was early in Phoenix, where she is.

When I got back to my place, Narc was still in bed, but only half asleep. I took off my clothes and got in bed next to him. He put his arms around me possessively. I liked it. But I didn't like it enough. I felt unsettled. The good times are growing so few and far between that I just couldn't "scrap" the negative build-up from this weekend's quarrels. I know that "anonymous" (a few posts ago) commented that "nothing is changing," and maybe it's not... but something felt different this morning.

We ended up having sex and physically speaking, it was great sex. But I couldn't lose myself in it entirely. I felt uncomfortable. Especially after therapy. My therapist called him a "brute" and I couldn't forget that.

"Who threatens to leave a woman by herself, drunk at a bar in a distant neighborhood at 3:00 in the morning if she doesn't move by the time he finishes his cigarette? What kind of man is that?" she exclaimed.

I couldn't help but feel tense this morning-- even when he was inside of me. Perhaps, especially then. (And I think that's a good sign?)

Anyway, after that, I took a shower and he watched some TV. He told me my "internet" was broken. (Ah! Wiley-Hyde disconnected the cable just to be safe!) I acted as if I were confused about it and then plugged it back in.

"Oh... I guess the cable just pulled out," I said.

There's a tangle of wires around my computer anyway.

Then he took a shower and I ordered a pizza, as per his request. We hung out for a while longer and he called CouchSleeper on the phone. His maid service was coming and he wanted to make sure CouchSleeper was awake in order to let her in. Couchy must have asked where he was that he didn't come home the night before.

"Oh... uh, I'm at Hyde's in Midtown," he said. "I have analysis this afternoon on the Upper East and my screenwriter's meeting last night was in Midtown, so I figured it was easier to crash over here."

Is that why he wanted to stay over? Or is that just what he tells himself?

He told Couchy that he had a "meeting" at the Blue Goose later that evening.

"Well-- it's a personal meeting. Not a business meeting," I heard him say. "So feel free to join up, if you want, for a beer or two later."

Is that what he calls it when he gets together with a friend? A "MEETING?" Is that so that it seems professional? Obligatory? Meaningful? Purposeful?

Narc told me that he had been "out with the boys" all afternoon the day before. CouchSleeper is becoming a "cock-blocker" (as Hammer pointed out), and it's annoying. Couchy is plugging up Narc's loneliness, so he and I have been taken down a notch.

And then, guess what? Here comes the clincher... As he was getting ready to go, he asked to borrow money again. I really don't like this. He must be having major problems with his mother if she is tightening the purse strings, but I don't like this being a new trend. I have so much trouble saying no to anything he asks, and he knows it.

"It would only be for a day," he said. "I'll have more in there tomorrow afternoon and I can give it back to you tomorrow."

"You promise? Because I really don't have a lot of money, Narc. I'm on a low income right now."


"Yeah! All of it back tomorrow-- including the other $80."

"Well... okay."

I gave him another hundred dollars.

"I'll call you later," he smiled as he left.

I'm not stupid. I felt a little used after this exchange.

But still... it's NARC-- the same boy that I've been loving for nearly two years now. So it's hard to be cold about it. And at least we didn't fight this time, right?

I'm going to get my money back tomorrow and then after that just act really poor so that I put an end to this.

I have cabaret class tonight.
I'm looking forward to it.

I feel like a dumb-ass. A tired dumb-ass. So, if you were planning on commenting on this post by calling me a "dumb-ass," don't bother. The point is already taken.

-h-

Chewing on a Straw

As I sit here, I'm chewing on a straw-- a red bar room straw.

My eyes are tired and my heart is tight.

24 night with B was just wonderful. He left at around 10:00 (when the show ended) and I was getting set for bed. Then I got a text from BarMan:

Did u by any chance tape 24 2nite?

I told him that I had it saved on the cable box but that I could transfer it onto a tape and bring it over to Cheers in an hour if they would still be open.

yeah, but don't go out of ur way :) he said.

I made the tape for him and walked it over. There was a fat guy named Dave and a drunk girl named Nancy in the bar. Otherwise, it was empty. BarMan was grateful for the tape. Nancy was grilling him about ThursdayGirl. She rushed up to me when she saw that BarMan and I are friends.

"Is ThursdayGirl his girlfriend?!?!" she squealed.

"You'll have to ask him," I said.

I ordered a Bailey's on the rocks. BarMan told me it was on him. He asked me to lock the door, so I did. He was readying to close up shop. Then there was a knock on the door. It was PumpedUp's dad (the owner of the bar). I went to talk to him. He pulled me aside and told me that my Super (his good friend) could "use a friend in the building." I will have to investigate what that's about. I sense myself becoming embroiled in some building politics due to my Cheers allegiance and the solid friendship between PumpedUp's dad and my Super.

I only had the one drink, but felt edgy and unsettled. I probably never should have left the house. Perhaps I would have fallen asleep. Oh well...

As I took myself home, the feeling just got worse. Waiting for the elevator I thought of Narc. I love him; I hate him; I want so badly to be done with him. He humiliates me. I know that his screenwriter's group was reading his script tonight. I know that he was in Midtown. I sent him a text. (Damn it! Why? You don't even want to see him! You just want to know that he's THERE!)

How did your script go over? I wrote.

I did not expect a reply. I sat down to write this post, still chewing on the straw from my single glass of Bailey's. Still chewing on the straw. As I wrote, my phone began to vibrate against the desk. (Still chewing on the straw). He wrote back.

Still in Midtown. Call in 5.

Why did I open that can of worms? Should I pick up when he calls? Do I have a choice? I'm going to put my pajamas on. I can't let this straw out of my mouth. If I do, I might chew off all of my finger nails. And what would I be left to type with but bloody stumps?

What am I anxious about? Why is the night time so hard for me when I try to behave like a normal person?

My jaw is tight.

No-- scrap that.

My chest is tight.

-h-

"The Winds of Change and the Weeds of Sex"

This weekend flew by. And even though it's Monday, it's strangely quiet now. Hammer is in Phoenix for the week, and CouchSleeper is staying with Narc, seeming to have upset whatever delicate chemistry had the two of us spending more time together. Even Drippy is out of town, leaving B available for an "old school" 24-night tonight. (I might just wear my "Jack Bauer" T-shirt!)

Friday was a tough day for me. It took a lot of stamina to get through. I foolishly stayed out late on Thursday night (in the bar with CouchSleeper and Narc) and still felt the alcohol coursing through my veins when I arrived to teach on Friday morning. Six hours and a few gallons of water later I had to head straight to Penn Station (in rush hour, no less!) to get home in time for my mom's party.

With barely time to eat, I was cranky upon my arrival. But LilSis and mom were excited and rushing about the house in preparation, which started to get me into the right mood for the occasion. I helped LilSis with her makeup, and even though I didn't have time to shower, started to feel refreshed just from the change of clothes and re-combing of my hair.

The party was held at a colonial inn/catering hall (where George Washington once stayed). The centerpieces that I had been working on all week long looked perfect and my mom was so excited. She had her sweet sixteen in 1961, so the theme of the party was late '50s/early '60s music. Each table was named for a particular artist and we had a whole number of events laid out for the night ahead. I wrote a song for my mom to the tune of Heartbreak Hotel and I passed out the lyrics and brought the karaoke track. My sisters organized a ladies vs. men sing-off of two doo-wop songs; Bro-in-Law led a hand-jive contest. He and his sister have "Danny" and "Cha-Cha's" dance from Grease memorized and they entertained the crowd on the dance floor. I was laughing hysterically. While everyone was eating dinner, I took the mic and entertained with some smoky torch songs from the era (like "Misty" and "Cry me a River.") All in all, it was a great night. My mom's friend, Prissy, came in a poodle skirt. My cousin (who's all of seven years old) came with his hair spiked, wearing a huge gold cross.

"Don't I look like JBC?!?!" he insisted.

It was too cute.

Everyone was in the right spirit for the party and it was all just right. The only rub-- the W-family was there and HW and LW got pretty drunk. I didn't drink at the party and it made me feel funny to see them red-faced and changed by the alcohol. LW told me he had nearly finished off a bottle of Jameson by himself the night before. I don't want to be like that.

My mom had a candle-lighting at the party, and my stepbrother actually got up and walked to the cake to light a candle! Granted, he had a walker in one hand and my stepfather supporting him on the other side, but he made it by putting one foot forward and dragging the "paralyzed" side behind. Everyone was in tears. My mom later asked my stepfather:

"Were you crying because you were sad or were you crying because you were happy?"

"Sad with one eye, happy with the other," he said.

My heart was hurting.

At nearly midnight, I headed home with my parents. Hammer texted me a few times. She was out with Maximus and Mohawk in what would turn out to be a very eventful night for her! She wanted me to come out and join them at a bar, but I had to remind her that I was on Long Island. By the time my head hit the pillow that night, I was tired enough to pass out. Insomniac-Hyde was asleep within five minutes!

I didn't wake up until nearly noon the next day. My mom had prepared a huge breakfast-- chocolate chip pancakes and bagels with all the trimmings. (I had mine with Nova. Yum!) I hung out with LilSis, JBC and my stepbrother, watching TV and joking around until around 4:00 in the afternoon when I headed back into the city. It was raining and I was carrying a million and one packages.

On my way into the building (at around 6:30 pm), I bumped into NDN who was going to meet his sister before prepping for the dinner party that night. I called TT and told him to meet me at NDN's place at 9:00 pm. Then I went home to shower and "decompress."

NDN's dinner party was a great time, although I was in a very strange mood. I was hyper-aware that I was drinking and I was anxious about the TT situation. So, it was a little difficult for me to have a carefree spirit about everything. Bezoukhoff's girlfriend was very sweet. There was no lull in the conversation and I was impressed with NDN's "fancy" frosted brownies. TT seemed to be getting on well enough with everyone, but I was somehow aware that it was our "last" date, even as everything was going okay. He explained to me that he had been sick and that his parents had been in town, as if to say "That's why I haven't been around the past few weeks." But who are we kidding? He hadn't been around for the same reason that I hadn't been around-- a lack of chemistry. I was reasonably sure that neither of us was that interested in the other.

At one point, I sang for everyone. It's only worth noting because I have never sung a B-flat that fully before. I felt it vibrating through my face, in the "mask," in my bones, and my abdomen pushed outwards and down providing a support that I rarely manage to achieve. I was sure that the note would bring the walls down and it was exhilarating! I loved it.

Later, there was a bit of "to-do" about whether or not NDN would put on his infamous pirate patch. He and I had a stupid (alcohol-fueled) spat about it and I went back to my apartment. TT came with me. Perhaps it was all a pretense to get him alone. I had to say what I had to say. So I did.

I really don't want to recount this in all its detail, but I told him the truth-- the whole truth. I told him about Narc; I told him that it's stressful for me to start something new because I'm trying to face the drinking thing in a more head-on way. I told him more than that, too... things I don't even want to write here. I was definitely drunk or I never would have done it. I'm glad that I did.

"It's all right to tell me things," he said. "I don't know where things are going with us, and it seems like the last thing you need is some other guy fucking you with no relationship attached."

"You could say that... It's why I've been a little distant... I mean, why I haven't felt like I could totally be myself."

"I'm really attracted to you," he said. "And I think you're an awesome lady." (I HATE it when he says "lady!") "But I don't know if there's anything there yet either."

"So let's just be friends for now?" I asked.

"Sure."

He gave me a big hug and I felt an enormous rush of relief. I no longer have to be dodging his sexual advances. Now, I don't know if we're going to "be friends," but does it matter? I don't particularly feel like calling him. I think I may just let this one go.

Meanwhile, Narc had started texting me in the middle of the evening and we had been corresponding all throughout this time.

Narc (11:24 pm): How was the Sweet 60 party?
Hyde: It was great. How are you?
Narc: Good. Chillin'. May hit Patriot in a bit.
Hyde: Cool. Will you be out late?
Narc: Not sure. What are you up to?
Hyde: Half date/half dinner party but making it my business to be free later...
Narc: Call or text when you're out, perhaps a rendezvous at the Patriot.
Hyde: Would love to meet up.

Hyde (12:47 am): What's up now?
Narc: Still in, though may head out soon. What up?
Hyde: Finishing here soon...
Narc: Let me know if you feel like heading down.
Hyde: I do. Give me a little time to get out...
Narc: Let me know when you're near.
Hyde (1:13 am): Coming soon...

So, there it is... I left NDN's at around 1:30 am (with only Bezoukhoff and his girlfriend still there) and I headed down to meet Narc. On the way there, I gossiped on the phone with Hammer. She was stressed about going to Phoenix in the middle of all her boy drama, and about the fact that Mohawk hadn't contacted her to get together.

"Just press the pause button!" I told her.

I was still on the phone with her when I got to Narc's lobby. I waited in a chair while the doorman buzzed him to come down.

There he came, rounding the corner from the elevator area into the lobby, walking briskly towards the door. What? No stopping for me? No greeting? No pause?

"Hammer, I gotta go!" I leaped up and chased him out the door.

"Wait up, Narc! Stop walking so fast!"

He was still three strides ahead of me. I had to break into a half-jog to keep up.

"I can't run!" I complained. "I'm drunk, and only wearing flip flops! Wait up!"

"You don't have socks on?" He glanced back at me incredulously.

"Don't worry. I'm not cold."

When we got to the Patriot we took a seat by the door. I told Narc I had to go to the ATM and he ordered me a drink. The waitress was giving us doubles for only $4.75!!! (It seems they change their prices there every time we go!) I was determined not to get too drunk, though, so I sipped mine very slowly with water. Narc seemed edgy and in a bad mood. He asked me how the date was.

"It was okay," I said. "I needed to clear some things up with this guy, and tonight I did."

"Wait-- you mean this is the same guy as you had been seeing? Lasagna boy? He's persistent!"

"Yeah, I guess. Whatever... It was getting to be enough dates that I had to explain why I didn't want to sleep with him--that I'm not emotionally available. And that's that. The dinner party was fun, though."

"Why not?" he challenged.

"Because I'm emotionally invested elsewhere," was my pointed reply.

I think this whole conversation put him into an even worse mood. I sometimes don't know which he would prefer-- if I slept with TT or not! Anyway, the evening continued to sour. It soured and then it began to rot!

Some really drunk guy came and sat next to me. He was funny and asked me for a kiss on the cheek. I complied. I'm sure Narc didn't like that. Call it a bad drunk-judgment call on my part. This guy kept asking me to smack him in the ass. I said "no" laughingly for a while, but he kept coming back. Finally I gave him a whack.

"Leave her alone!" Narc said.

Was he defending me? His mood was worsening.

Narc said he ran out of money and I started paying for his drinks. The bar staff switched over and the new waitress started charging us $8.75 for the drinks.

"What? The other waitress was only charging us $4!" I said.

"Whatever, Hyde. It's not a big deal," Narc told me.

"It is. I don't have a lot of money."

"I thought you just went to the ATM."

"I did, but I don't have a lot of money in the ATM, Narc!"

The drunk guy told us that he designs video games and that he worked for Capcom-- on the original design for Streetfighter. (Narc said it meant this guy was old.) He had some kind of gaming system with him and Narc started playing Streetfighter on it. I was touching Narc's leg. He was still being cold and unresponsive to my advances.

The drunk guy offered to buy us tequila shots and before we could refuse, the shots arrived. Narc did his, but I really didn't want mine. I had been drinking vodka the whole time at NDN's and had since switched to whiskey. I don't drink tequila to begin with, and I certainly wasn't going to go for it on a stomach full of mixed alcohol. So I left the shot there. On Narc's other side, a lonely old man was drinking at the bar. He had been there sadly and quietly drinking all night. I decided to offer him my shot.

"Excuse me, sir! Do you want this shot?"

He didn't seem to hear me.

"Sir?"

"DON'T DO THAT!" Narc snapped at me.

I was taken aback.

"What? Why not?"

"You don't offer other people your drink!!!"

"Why not? I don't want it."

"You just don't. I mean it could be poisoned or something."

"Narc! Why would I poison that guy?"

"Ugh! It's bad etiquette, Hyde!"

He rolled his eyes in disgust and sort of turned away from me. Why was he so upset about this? Who knows. But it was the start of a slew of criticisms. After that, it seemed like nothing I could say or do was right. I was sure that he hated me. (I really think that in a lot of ways, he does.)

"I don't need lessons in etiquette, Narc," I protested. "I'm not the socially awkward one."

Okay, so maybe I shouldn't have said that. But I didn't like being yelled at and admonished like that!

Anyway, like I said, it went from bad to worse. At one point Narc was telling me some story and I was leaning on the bar, propped up on my elbows, looking at him while he spoke.

"Stop looking at me like that!" he exclaimed, out of nowhere.

"Like what?" I was truly taken aback.

"Like that! You're staring at me! STOP STARING AT ME!"

"What? Narc?!?! I'm not staring at you! I'm just looking at you while you're talking."

"You're staring and I can't stand it. You do it all the time! Stop it! It's giving me the creeps!"

"What are you talking about?"

I felt so utterly attacked and for absolutely no reason. I wasn't staring at him at all. I don't know what was wrong with him or why he was so angry at me. But there was nothing I could do to avoid his criticism. It was flung at me even while I sat there silently listening. I decided to try to make light of it.

"I don't know, Narc. Maybe I just like looking at you!" I smiled. "Because I like you."

"I CAN'T STAND IT!" he snapped. "You know that I lived on camera. I don't like being looked at like that."

What the fuck was this about?!?!

"Okay, okay... I'm sorry," I said.

I felt as if I had been punched in the stomach. I wasn't sure what to do.

"I didn't mean to upset you or make you uncomfortable. I really, REALLY didn't mean to upset you!" I was pleading with him to let up.

"Whatever..."

He went on talking, but now I felt helpless. I didn't know where to look or what to say or how to react or what to do. I felt like whatever I would say or do would be the wrong thing-- the wrong move. So I was immobilized. I just sat there at the bar, tightly sipping my drink, my arms pinned to my sides, my gaze directed away from Narc. I felt the tears coming lightly-- just one or two leaking out to stream down my cheeks.

"Ugh! Now you're crying again! Damn it!"

I did the wrong thing again. I felt so trapped. I felt frozen.

"I'm sorry," I said.

"I'm gonna take off."

He started to gather his things.

"Wait-- WHAT? You're leaving? Can't you wait for me to finish my drink?"

"I'm going home, Hyde."

"And you're not inviting me?"

"I'm just not in the mood," he said. "I'm not in the mood to deal with all.... THIS!" He waved his arm in a gesture towards me.

"But it's after last call! You're going to leave me drunk in a bar at 4:30 in the morning a block from your place when I came down here specifically to see you?"

"Um, yeah..."

"Narc! When have we ever done that?!?! What the fuck? There's no precedent for that! We ALWAYS go home together! I don't care if you don't want to fuck me... fine. But at least let me stay at your house! When have we ever been like that?"

"Thursday night ," he fired back.

"Yeah, but that's different," I argued. "First of all, I had to get up the next morning at 7:00 am to teach. Second of all, we agreed in advance that I wouldn't be staying over."

"So?"

"Narc! I came to your neighborhood and I've been buying you drinks all night!"

"I've paid for your drinks before."

"Yeah, but you owe me $80 in cash."

"You're gonna call me on that now? What's your point?"

"No, I'm not going to call you on that. I'm just saying... You've been criticizing me all night; I came to you; I paid for you... And now you're kicking me out?"

"Whatever Hyde. Let's go. Just, c'mon!"

I followed him out of the bar.

"I'm sorry if I made you mad before," I said.

"It's fine. I know you didn't mean to. Just don't wake up CouchSleeper."

I was too emotionally exhausted to think too much about why I wanted to go home with Narc as opposed to getting out of it then and there.

When we got to his place, the living room was darkened, CouchSleeper's stuff was scattered everywhere, and Couchy himself lay asleep on the couch. Narc quickly ushered me into the bedroom where he followed me with some cigarettes and an ashtray. I leaned up against his heater; he sat in his desk chair, and we chatted and smoked... smoked and chatted. I pretended that everything was fine. Scrap it for now, Hyde. I told myself. Process tomorrow.

We didn't stay up that much longer. It was after 5:00, so we crawled into bed. Narc left his boxers on. Ugh! The underwear politics again. I was in no mood for it. I was just sick of gauging his moods, his wishes, his "underwear" implications. I wasn't going to play the "punishing" underwear game. What was his point? That he didn't want to fuck me? Fine! So I stripped naked, like I usually do.

Lo and behold, the underwear came off. Ten minutes later we were fucking. After the fucking, he went back into "punishment" mode. No cuddling, no soothing, no rest. Just a back turned to me in the dark. I was physically and mentally wiped out, though, and I couldn't care less. Fuck it.

The next morning I woke up from the ringing of my cell phone and a hard Narc pressed into my side. I tried to initiate something with him, and he got into it at first, but then he seemed to want to stay asleep. Fine. I wasn't going to stick around until 3:00 pm when he deigned to get up. I got out of bed and threw my clothes on. My hair was uncombed and unruly; my eyes were smudged with liner and circled with rubbed and faded mascara. I looked a mess. I thrust my hands into my coat pockets and looked down at him. He was snoring-- pretending to be in a deeper sleep than he was.

"I'm going now," I said rather loudly. "I'm taking off."

"What?" He opened his eyes in surprise.

And I left.

Back at my place, I called B. I knew he would be getting out of church soon, and he was. We agreed to meet at a Chinese place a few blocks from me. He brought me a palm from the service.

The weather was beautiful and B made me laugh. It all felt like a clean breeze sweeping into the crevices of my cobwebbed soul. We decided to go to the movies at Union Square (he also had to pick something up at the Circuit City there.) We saw Thank you for Smoking, which I thoroughly enjoyed, laughing loudly at several points. It was just what I needed. B is always so grounding to me. I always feel more myself, more sturdy when I'm with him. And it makes me wonder how I get lost so easily in the blackness, the booze, the drama. We hung out together until around 5:00 pm when he had to go tutor and I headed home, finally affording myself some quiet time after the whirlwind weekend.

The rest of the night, I just relaxed. I talked to Shorty on the phone, ate some spaghetti and bummed around with NDN, watching Family Guy.

And that brings us to today. I'm teaching this morning, but not the rest of the week-- we have Spring Break. I need to do some "spring cleaning" in my life. Narc and I are rotting-- we are so clearly going bad, and we never had it good. But we used to have passion. Now there's only strain. It's not good. Sometimes things change even when we don't take action to change them. Sometimes things run their course. We shall see...

Yeah, I miss you when the place got wrecked

By the winds of change and the weeds of sex

Looks like freedom but it feels like death

It's something inbetween I guess

It's CLOSING TIME

Honesty is the Best Policy?

-I confronted TT with the truth, as brutal as it may be. Phew! The pressure to fuck him is off!

-NDN had a great dinner party.

-I got to meet Bezoukhoff's girlfriend for the first time.

I hate Narc. He's a total dick. I hate him so much that when I woke up this morning I didn't even want to linger in his presence. I upped and dressed and nudged him once my coat was on.

"I'm taking off," I said.

"What?!?! You're going?"

I liked that he was surprised.

"Yeah. I'm out of here."

"Well, okay. I'm going to nap some more."

He is turning me off lately. I don't care how good the sex is or how sexy the power shit is. He's struggling with something in his head and it has to do with me. And it's manifesting itself in a very unsexy way.

More on all this later. I have to go brush my teeth and wipe off last night's eye makeup. B is in my neighborhood. He goes to church here, and it's Palm Sunday. Narc didn't know what Palm Sunday is. I had to explain. (I was in Jerusalem for Palm Sunday 20 years ago. Damn, I'm old.)

Maybe B will meet me for lunch.

Ugh.

I hate Narc!

I love B! He is So Smart!

This from B's advisor to the financial aid committee. He is so smart and I love him so much. I'm so proud of him. (So much so that sometimes I feel like his mother!)

Dear Committee:

I am happy to report that "B" is making good progress on his dissertation. After passing his orals with an outstanding performance last Fall, B asked me to serve as his dissertation director, which I was delighted to accept given my familiarity with the high quality of his work. In the ensuing months, we have consulted regularly about his prospectus and research, developing a thesis, delimiting topics, evolving bibiliographies. B is doing voluminous reading vis a vis the intersections of Paulo Freire, critical pedagogy, and liberation theology. His particular interest is in the “prophetic” aspects of Freire’s rhetoric and how they influenced his pedagogical methods. B is a remarkably bright person who writes with insight and clarity, so I am very enthusiastic about his dissertation project. A future book by him on Paulo Freire as a border intellectual who traversed secular and religious discourses in the making of his epistemology is much needed in the field. B is on track, reading voraciously, and drafting a prospectus which will guide his dissertation.

Respectfully submitted,


Dr. "B's Advisor"
PhD Program in English

********************

PS: I have a date with TT tonight at NDN's dinner party. Mixed feelings about it. Definitely feeling AWKWARD.

PPS: Narc doesn't hate me after all... He sent me an email (with a poster attached) on Friday afternoon:

Just a little mock-up of my dream cast for "Oceans"... (grin) (And now, surely you'll recognize Peter Saarsgaard, no?)
Narc

PPPS: Hammer-- if you're reading this, get blogging! You have a lot of exciting drama to tell!



As for all about my mom's "Sweet Sixty," I'll get to that tomorrow. Time to go shower and make myself beautiful for tonight.

love,
Hyde

Wishes

Okay, I am sober now, having just taught the Russian Revolution and the 1920's, but I'm still pretty fucking tired. I'm also really, really anxious! Why? I don't like the way things went with N last night. I don't think he loves me anymore. When I told him I loved him, he said "no you don't. You only think that you do." I was upset by that. I threw my arms around him and kissed him when he put me in a cab, even though he had just walked out on me in the bar. He was mad and wanted to go home because I wanted to end the discussion on alcoholism. He thinks he knows all about it, but he doesn't. He says he doesn't have a problem with it and neither do I. I disagree. And I can't stand when he says that alcoholism is an "invented disease." If it's just an "invention," then how'd I watch my dad die from it? He just didn't "feel like" quitting? That's why I got so emotional last night, and he knows it.

As we parted ways, I sent him two texts:

I DO love you!!! I wrote.

And then:

And let's drop the whole subject of AA forever!

But Narc has decided that I don't love him, and he makes his own reality. What have I ever done that would make him not believe me? It doesn't matter. He is closed to me. It hurts.

I don't remember a lot of last night, but I do remember telling him that I haven't been with anyone else except for him for a year. Why? Was I trying to prove my love? He didn't say anything-- at least not that I can recall.

When I got there last night, CouchSleeper greeted me with a smile. He knew a lot about me. I liked that Narc had talked about me to him.

"Narc tells me that you're a singer!" he said. "And that you study history?"

He also said that Narc told him I watch One Life to Live.

"Yes, although I haven't been following for a few years," I replied.

When we went outside for a smoke, CouchSleeper asked if I could sing the "Queen of the Night" aria.

"I can, but not at performance level," I laughed. I chirped out a few notes. He was impressed.

He asked why I'm not a professional singer and I told him that it's because I can't commit to take care of my health and because I'm shy.

"I can tell that you're shy!" he said. "Every time I see you, for those fleeting moments at Narc's place, you kind of just dash out of there."

"Yeah, I know."

(Really, though-- it's an awkward situation, don't you think? I'm having sex with Narc and then come out of the bedroom to confront a boy I barely know waking up on the couch. Plus, I've never gotten the impression that Narc wants me to be friendly with or get to know his friends. That's why I dash out!)

Later, Narc went to buy more cigarettes. CouchSleeper asked me when the Enlightenment started. I answered his question. He wanted to know when it "ended," and why capitalism gets associated with liberalism in the 19th century. I answered all of his questions and went on and on. He seemed to be enjoying the conversation, and I have to say, I really liked him!

CouchSleeper cut out at around 1:00 am and I stayed with Narc to drink. I'm not having much success with this "moderation" stuff so far! Damn it! I hate myself today.

And what is Narc thinking? I don't think he's mad at me, persay, but I do know that he hates my "dramatics" and I got a little too emotional last night. He doesn't like it anymore when I say that I love him. He used to like that. When I was a person much further away...

I feel so consumed by guilt and anxiety and exhaustion today. But I have another twelve hours to go before I can expect my head to hit the pillow.

This morning I texted Narc again:

Dying...! ;)

I wanted to soften things. I hope he's not mad at me.

I'm tired, tired, tired!!!

Last night I talked to Hammer on the phone and only remember traces of the conversation. She had some major SingMan drama and desperately needs to update her blog, but she has no steady internet connection in her new apartment.

I wish everything with Narc were different than it is.

I wish for a lot of things...

-h-

Grrrr....

Grrrr....

I'm drunk, drunk, drunk and on no sleep again for the first time since Saturday. Last night was pretty much a bust (aside from the fact that I had a great time hanging out with CouchSleeper!). What is WRONG with me? Why can't I make better choices for myself?

And like I said-- it kind of ended badly between me and Narc. No major fights, but he did walk out on me in the bar. I nearly cried and begged him not to leave me there.

"I'm going out to smoke a cigarette," he said. "And if you're not outside this bar by the time I finish my cigarette, I'm leaving you."

I gulped down what was left of my drink and ran out.

I didn't sleep there last night. I slept at my place. It barely matters, as I only got 2 1/2 hours of sleep anyway...

Today is my killer day.

I wish I hadn't said anything to Narc. I KNEW he would give me a hard time about the AA thing. WHY did I do that? WHY did I get drunk again last night?

Like I said-- Grrrrr......

Hammer and Narc

Hammer had a "reclamation project" date with SingMan. Narc yelled at me for having gone to AA. Everything sucks.

I'm sorry...

It does!

-h-

Musings

There's some big news among my friends:

VJ is getting married a week from Sunday! CONGRATULATIONS, VJ!!! While the ceremony is coming up shortly (in Florida), the celebration will be in July in Iowa. I will definitely be there!

AND...

NDN will soon no longer be my next-door neighbor! He is going to be a homeowner, purchasing an apartment in our building on the 15th floor. Thank God he's not going far! CONGRATULATIONS, NDN!!!

Other than that, I'm not sure what to say... I wrote a long post earlier today, but it got eaten up by blogger and I don't think I'm going to attempt it again.

It snowed yesterday. It was very strange.

I have to throw out a broken lampshade. I'm loathe to do it. It's all I have left from B's apartment in Harlem-- the apartment he lived in my senior year, and that I decorated with one massive trip to IKEA. The lampshade makes an orange light that warms me and makes me remember that I used to be hopeful and so much more infinitely trusting than I am now. I don't think I'm cynical. I just think I'm older. I'll never open myself to anyone ever again the way I did with B. I think it's why he's still in my life. But that girl is lost. And now the last object I have from that lived space needs to be tossed away...

I'm trying not to think about it.

My brain feels too foggy to think of much of anything! How come even though I slept so much last night, I'm still tired beyond belief? I can't figure it out. Normally I can run on the smallest amounts!

I guess that's it for now. I'm supposed to be grading, but I can't help my procrastination-compulsion.

Tomorrow is going to be a really busy day-- teaching all day and then off to Long Island for my mom's Sweet Sixty party. I'm going to have to take my party clothes, etc. with me and catch a rush hour train out there. Then on Saturday night, I have NDN's dinner party to attend (with TT as my date!). In any case, I'm not quite sure when I'll have a chance to blog again.

As for Narc, he's performed a disappearing act since CouchSleeper decided to stay with him. How long will this last? Days? Weeks? Is it a blessing? A curse? I don't know. But it's hard for me that he comes and goes and nothing I can say or do will have the slightest impact.

Back to the grading pile...

-h-

Hyde Gets Some Sleep!

In a bizarre turn of events, I've finally gotten some sleep! What the fuck is going on?

Here's last week's count:

Monday (3/27): 4 hours
Tuesday (3/28): 5 hours
Wednesday (3/29): No hours
Thursday (3/30): Napped for 5 hours, Slept 4 hours later that night
Friday (3/31): 10 hours
Saturday (4/1): 3 hours
Sunday (4/2): 5 hours

TOTAL SLEEP: 36 hours

This week:

Monday (4/3): Napped 4 hours, Slept 5 hours
Tuesday (4/4): Napped 3 hours, Slept 5 hours
Wednesday (4/5): Slept 16 hours!!!!

TOTAL SLEEP: 33 hours

A vast improvement, so far, wouldn't you say?

It's weird though... I'm still only sleeping 5 hours a night (with the exception of last night!) so I feel like I'm napping all the time and I don't do anything except sleep. In reality, though, most people sleep 8 hours a night, so I'm not spending any more time asleep than anyone else. As for last night, I don't know what happened-- at around 6:30 I was feeling tired and went to go lay down for a few minutes. The next thing I knew, it was 10:30 this morning. How the fuck did that happen?

Am I really that tired? Or is it because I haven't been drinking (since Saturday)? Or is it because I'm depressed and wanting to avoid the million and one things I have to do with my day?

In any case, there it is.

Even though I finally slept last night, I still woke up with a headache and feeling lousy. I wonder what it will take to feel refreshed one of these days. I'm off to get dressed and do some work. I'll probably check in again later...

-h-

The Girls of Cabaret/ the Rabbi and the Nun

The Girls of Cabaret:

My Cabaret class has some very interesting characters. Last night only four of us showed up: I was there, the guy who reminds me of a cross between Nathan Lane and Ernie Sabella, and two other women-- Blondie and Lucci.

Blondie is a soprano and a very good singer-- a voice teacher, in fact. She teaches at the school where I'm taking the class. I've heard from the others that she signs up for this class every single semester that it's offered. It's a little annoying because she's a bit of a diva and even though she doesn't pay anything for the class, she takes up a lot of the teacher's time. Also, it's interesting how she's managed to arrange it so that she's opening the show. In general, I like to "live and let live," and I'm one of the least competitive people that I know, but I do sometimes feel a little swell of competition when it comes to singing. So, I have to admit-- she annoys me a little. And I have to make note of her diva personality. She accepts people's compliments all the time, but never have I heard her compliment another singer.

Then there's Lucci--so named because she looks related to Susan Lucci. This girl is really strange. The first week I met her, we were both talking about stage fright, etc. She told me that she deals with it by popping xanax-- an interesting revelation to a complete stranger, n'est pas? A few weeks later, she casually revealed that she needs medication to sleep in order to deal with her anxiety. She must be a mega-anxious person. But guess what she does for a living? She counsels torture victims! Kind of a strange combination, right?

Anyway, last night was the strangest yet-- Blondie was singing a song called "Stars and the Moon." In the song, the narrator rejects "true love" in favor of a guy who can buy her a yacht and champagne, etc. But at the end of the song, the narrator realizes that she'll never "grow" as a person and despite all of that money, she'll "never have the moon." (This is Narc's view of women in a nutshell.)

"That's the story of my life!" Lucci announced.

"What? Aren't you a newlywed?" I asked. (She just got married in October.)

"Yeah, but we never would have gotten married if our parents didn't know each other," she said. "And he can give me all the money I need..."

Isn't that a rather strange thing to announce to a class full of relative strangers? Especially when you've only been married for six months? I didn't know what to say...

Anyway, Lucci told me that she "loves" Marie's Crisis. So I took her number. Maybe she can join me and Hammer and Sissy (and maybe even SingMan!) there sometime!

She also said that she's obsessed with Linda Eder.

"Linda Eder is why I sing again," she said.

"You stopped singing?" I asked.

She said that she went to McGill as a vocal major where she sang roles like Barbarina in Figaro. Then she was mugged and ended up in the hospital for a few weeks. After that, she couldn't sing anymore. I asked her what other roles she sang and she said that she "couldn't remember"-- that she hardly remembered anything from her life "before." It was all very strange. She then said that she started law school, but dropped out before meeting her husband at the London School of Economics.

The whole thing was bizarre.

Anyway, here's another story I found interesting...

The Rabbi and the Nun:

My mom practices family law and does a lot of divorces. When I saw her on Friday she had just picked up a message from her secretary and I thought it was HYSTERICAL.

A year ago, or so, my mom did a divorce for a Jewish woman who was married to a real thuggish kind of guy. This husband was a "wheeler-dealer" type (or a "wheela-deala" as they say in my mom's native "Brooklynese"). Anyway, she left this guy and started dating a Conservative Rabbi-- a very religious man, with whom she was sure she would find stability and long term happiness. They moved to "the house in Connecticut" and all was well.

Anyway, on Friday my mom's secretary took the following message from said woman:

My new husband ran off with a Russian Orthodox Nun and lost his job. Please call back.

I don't know why I found that so incredibly amusing.

Ha ha ha... Where did he even meet this nun? At some kind of interfaith event?

Well, that's it for now... I'm sitting in my office, waiting out my office hours. Students rarely come by and I'm itching to leave.

I'm really hungry. And I want to get a pedicure.

Bye...

-h-

Conversations

There's a lot going on right now-- both in my head and in my life. I can't even begin to scrape the surface, so instead I'll give you a sampling of what hit my cell phone today...


A VERY STRANGE Voice Mail from Merlin:
(Obviously he was high when he left the message. Even though I only met him once, I think I need to eliminate this guy from my life. It's bad energy)

Hey, Hyde,
I, um... It's funny, but you're probably not going to believe me. But I um... I erased this woman's number. She was not a nice person. And when you text- me. Text-- Text-- Text-TED (I'm from Brown University). When you TEXT- TEXTED me the other, er... uh... night, I thought it was this woman, Julia. Um.... true story. Um... I just wanted you to know that. Um.... And, um... You're probably not gonna... I don't know... Text me any time you want! If you ever want to party or hang out... cool! (Sigh) Big day ahead of me. Plenty of party. Plenty of cash. No auditions. Nothing to do. Bad mix. Anyway, my dear... Just wanted you to know that. Just got off the phone with my mom. Had a great conversation. Um... And, anyway, call me if you want. (Whispers: "And I don't know who you are!") I know I sound crazy, but... True thing. Weird. But... I promise, I won't call back. Bye, honey.




A Conversation with TT (beginning at 9:30 pm)
(We haven't been in touch in about two and a half weeks!)

TT: Hey, Hyde. Just giving a shout out. Hope all is well.

Hyde: Yeah-- I was wondering what happened to you! Been busy-- concerts past two weekend's and making centerpieces for my mom's party this Fri. What have you been up to?

TT: Sick. Busy. Madness. The usual.

Hyde: Oh no! Hope you're feeling better! How's apartment stuff?

TT: Grrr. Nothing really to report. Thought I found an alternate, even better spot for the same price. So of course between seeing it Sunday and today they upped the asking price $35K because response was so darned good. Makes me feel better that the place I've signed a contract for is still a bargain-- assuming I can ever close.

Hyde: NY real estate is always a battlefield, I guess!

TT: So it seems. You're good but for the busy?

Hyde: For the most part... ;)
Hyde (again): So... what are you up to this weekend?

TT: Friday night's booked, but otherwise no real plans.
TT (again): Any ideas?

Hyde: NDN is having a dinner party @ his place Sat. Do you wanna be my date?

TT: Sure. NDN is in your building, right?

Hyde: Yup. My next-door neighbor! And if it doesn't go late, we can always hit karaoke night at Cheers after!

TT: Sounds like a plan.
TT (again): Call or (*sigh*) text me Friday or Saturday and we'll firm up details, okay?

Hyde: Ha ha. Okay. :)

TT: I'm gonna sign off for a bit. Have a grand week.

Hyde: Good night!




A Conversation with Narc (beginning at 11:08 pm)

Narc: Mmm.. Patriot.

Hyde: CouchSleeper still hanging out? You there now?

Narc: He just took off for a midnight tryst. Just back home myself. Would meet you back at Patriot but you have class tomorrow!

Hyde: Ah! So you know my schedule! :) A midnight tryst sounds dramatic! Did you catch Idol? I'm gonna watch tomorrow...

Narc: "Idol" was terrible. All country.

Hyde: Maybe I'll like it. Cheers is getting Cash karaoke this week. PS: My crafting is complete. Thank God that's fucking over! But I should be around after choir tomorrow if you're "Patrioting" then...

Of course, Narc didn't text back, leaving me hanging and driving me FUCKING CRAZY as he is prone to do! (He makes my heart ache, damn it!) I have very mixed feelings about inviting TT on the date. On the one hand, I don't want to lead him on, as I didn't feel any real connection with him the last time we hung out. On the other hand, I have never really been "myself" with him, and maybe it's worth one last shot at seeing if there's anything there. Maybe I should throw caution to the wind and show him my true colors and see if we connect.

I'm really anxious tonight. I didn't drink Sunday night or Monday night or tonight. Last night I lay in bed until nearly 4:00 am doing a crossword puzzle. When I finally fell asleep I had nightmares and they were all lucid dreams which made it so much creepier and so much worse. I only got about 4 hours of sleep and crashed out this afternoon, napping from 1:00-4:00. Now, I'm wide awake again because it's the night and I seem to be a creature of the night. I'm wired and pacing about the apartment.

What's been going through my mind? Well, part of it is that I've been thinking a lot about my intense attraction to Narc and what it's all about, and I have a lot of thoughts on the issue. I think I'm a "codependent" personality in the classic sense of the term, having been psychically formed in an alcoholic home. But my thoughts are too muddy and too tangled to begin to explain them now. I was talking it all out with B on the phone earlier, when he made me laugh.

"H-- What would Dr. Phil say?" he asked.

"I don't know what he would say!" I insisted.

B put on a Southern accent.

"He'd say 'That's all fine and it's a very nice story. Write it down in a book, and I'll read it... But it all boils down to this-- you need to make a choice!'"

You should have heard B trying to do Dr. Phil. It was hysterical.

I'm not ready to commit to the right choice, but I'm edging closer. I'm processing a lot lately. And I really am trying to start protecting myself-- my health, my goals, my heart. It's just very unnatural for me and it's going to take a hell of a lot of work.

Time to get into bed now and toss and turn. In the years before I filled up my nights with Cheers I used to drink Bailey's in bed. I kind of wish I had some now. But I'm starting to understand why I don't...

Good night, all...

-H-

On the Fringe

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

I'm just feeling wiped out.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Yeah, I guess..."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"In bed," I croaked.

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

And I did.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What is?"

"Your company, of course!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Then I spilled my drink.

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

I agreed. We ran for the door.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Why not?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Later...

-h-

Evaluated

I've been evaluated... again. This time it was short and sweet. Here's what the observer had to say:

************************************
Professor Hyde began her lecture with a posting on the blackboard of relevant vocabulary for the afternoon’s discussion. She then queried her students abut the elements of social and economic tensions that were an undercurrent of the political reconfiguration of fin de siecle Europe. The Professor explicated those elements of Darwinism - her leitmotif - that breathed life into nationalist politics, and which gave currency to the “new imperialism” that would lead late nineteenth-century Europe hurtling toward a World War in the next century.

Ms. Hyde used hand-outs in an effective manner to illustrate her main point: that “Manifest Destiny” and “The White Man’s Burden” were the imperative racial components which were to be interjected into the political discourse of the era, in order to give license to the nascent corporate capitalism that was gaining a strong foothold in both Western Europe and the United States. She drew an easily recognizable picture for her class of the connection between industrialism and neo-colonialism.

I find Professor Hyde to be both engaging and enlightening, and her students seemed to find her pedagogic methodology easily comprehensible. Hers was a sterling performance and she is certainly both a first-rate scholar and teacher.
************************************

Yay! So far so good, right?

I'm exhausted right now and off to sing a concert. Didn't get home until 7:00 am this morning. Somehow found myself at a diner holding court to a group of unfamiliar boys. Then I had to make centerpieces all day. Thank God this project is finally fucking over! Narc said he may surprise me and come to my concert. I don't know how I feel about that, as my parents will be there.

Later...

-h-

PS: I cracked the mystery of what Narc wrote in my journal (as discussed in the previous post). Clearly, I blacked this out. He said we were talking about Haiku poetry and he claimed to be able to write a Haiku on the spot. "Prove it!" I said, handing him my journal. And so, he did...

Drunk Drawing

I'm tired of chronicling my life with Narc.

I'm tired of a lot of things.

I opened my journal last night and saw the following page (to the left) and I don't remember anything about how it got there. On the top left is Narc's handwriting.




It says:

ASKED HOW OLD SHE WAS
THE GIRL-
HELD UP FIVE FINGERS.

What the hell does that mean?

Underneath that is my incredibly drunken chicken scrawl. It says (as far as I can make out):

@ times like this I long for my (and then something is scribbled that I can't read.)
me-
@times like this I long for something you don't understand.
Him- Maybe I do understand. Maybe we just don't have it together.

Anyway, finding that there depressed me.

Underneath is a drunk drawing that Narc did a week or two ago. He said it's me. He said it's the two halfs of me and that he "channeled" the drawing somehow...



Pretty pathetic.

I'm feeling pathetic in general lately... Very low self-esteem. I hope it passes.

I scratched my hand pretty bad on Wednesday. It was perfect at the time, but now it's making me feel worse about myself.




Sometimes, when you are on the cusp of change, things backlash in the worst way, out of fear.







I think I need to be more like Brando in On the Waterfront-- All beaten up, but still going to work.