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.

Installments

I've been reduced to blogging in installments! I'm not sure when I'll have a chance to write again, but I'm on a lunch break right now. So I'm going to have to write in little drips until I have a better chunk of time. Here's Tuesday-Wednesday in a little more detail...

I've had a somewhat disheartening week. Well... nevermind that. It's actually been a pretty good week. I'm just really upset about yesterday's incident with B. I feel trapped under a rock in a lot of ways. B is angry at me and even though I understand why, I also don't know what to do about it. I literally feel like I'm under a rock that's too heavy for me to move, and he's there yelling at me: "Move that rock or I have nothing else to say to you!" Everything seems so much easier when you're a safe distance away from my head. I don't know what to say to my friends sometimes...

I sent him an email yesterday saying:
:( Sorry. I hate myself.

He texted me this morning:
I love my H.

But the shitty part is, that doesn't make it any better and I still feel trapped. I don't know what to do.

Anyway, the week started off well. Hammer and I had a blast on 24-night and then I really enjoyed my cabaret class on Tuesday. Before the class, I sang all afternoon at home (wasting a lot of time, but loving every minute of it!) Then, B came over for a few hours. I cooked him some food and liked being the nurturer. Finally, at class, I settled on singing Big Spender, which is totally uncharacteristic of me, given my shyness, but the class really seemed to like it. I always get a ride home from a classmate-- an extremely overweight gay man who sounds like Nathan Lane when he talks. He was encouraging me the whole ride home.

"You're no scrappy little thing," he said. "Use it to your advantage in that song! Throw your body behind it. Use those hips! You're sexy! Let them see it! The audience will adore you!"

Even though I had a lot of work to do that night, I wanted to stop by Cheers and say hi to IrishBird. I only drank soda though-- no booze.

PreppyGirl was there on a date with some boy. They had just been to see Hairspray. I also saw a fairly new regular-- FloridaMan. He seems to be a budding "suitor," although I have no interest in him at all. He lives in Florida, but his company has him working here for a few months and he goes back there on the weekends. It sounds exhausting! Anyway, I started to tell IrishBird about my week and I mentioned that I had a concert on Sunday.

"Really? Where was your concert?" she asked.

"At a church in the Village."

"You sing in a church?"

"Yeah..."

"A church, Hyde? A church???"

"Yeah! I rehearse in a church too-- every week."

She started to laugh. (IrishBird is "Catholic," but she's really more into Evangelical Christianity and stuff like that).

"I'm surprised its walls didn't fall down around you when you walked in," she joked.

"Hey! C'mon! I'm a multifaceted girl," I protested.

"Yeah, that's not too nice," PreppyGirl chimed in.

"You don't know the things that I know about her!" IrishBird told PreppyGirl, winking at me.

I was a little annoyed at the turn of conversation, but it seemed to make PreppyGirl a little jealous. I think she has an "Anxious" complex and likes to compete in "who's more wild."

Of course this whole conversation only did more to pique the interest of FloridaMan who was seated to my right, and was now imagining just what it was that IrishBird knew about me that would crumble a church to its foundation. He called me by my name, specifically, and asked if he could buy me a drink.

"I'm not drinking tonight, but thanks."

I told IrishBird that I was going to hear BarMan play in the Village the next night.

"Will you be back here Thursday?" FloridaMan asked me.

"Um, probably... don't know... not sure."

I left shortly after that.

Back at home, I tried to grade some exams, but couldn't get myself to do much due to utter exhaustion. So I went to bed at midnight and set the alarm to get up at 5:00 am the next day.

Yes, the next morning I felt "Dying...!" (In the illustrious words of Narc!) but I finished that stack of exams and made it through my morning teaching. After my office hours I went home to vegetate with Tuesday night's Idol and texted with Narc a bit.

The afternoon passed quickly, and before I knew it, it was time for me to set off for a four hour choir practice. I knew I would be going straight to BarMan's show afterwards, so I got dressed nicely (and did some gorgeous blue eye makeup).

Wednesday night turned into some more Narc-drama.

...To be continued...

Paying the Piper

I'm so tired, I might die.

My sleep this week?

Monday night: 4 hours
Tuesday night: 5 hours
Wednesday: Woke up at 5:00 am, stayed up til 5:00 am... a full 24 hrs, before passing out until about 1:00 in the afternoon.
Thursday night: 4 hours

Narc and I were out drinking Wednesday night. Then, Thursday afternoon he wanted to get pitchers of margaritas with lunch (which we did). It left me woozy, and I had to go meet Bezoukhoff, but Narc wanted to go back to the Patriot after lunch. I walked him there and said goodbye at around 5:00 pm.

Last night at about 12:30 am, he called me. His speech was slurred.

"Hyde! I'm still at the Patriot!" he said.

That means that he spent 12 of 24 hours drinking in that dive.

I asked if he were still there alone and he said that he was with CouchSleeper. That made me feel a little better.

Why am I up so early today? I have to teach at 9:00 am, but before that I have to grade all of the exams I failed to grade yesterday.

And after my murderous six hours of teaching this afternoon, I have to head to Long Island to go to a party with my mom-- some kind of lawyers-association benefit/karaoke party. Then tomorrow I have to wake up early and slave over those centerpieces since they have to be done by Saturday night and I still have barely made a dent.

Yes, I feel awful. I also feel awful that B is so upset with me for standing him up yesterday.

Today is about paying the piper. Might I collapse?

-h-

Song Choices

So, I've got my three songs for the cabaret!

Song #1: I Had Myself a True Love, Harold Arlen
Song # 2: As Long As He Needs Me, Lionel Bart
Song # 3: Big Spender, Cy Colman

I'm especially afraid of performing Big Spender anywhere except at home in front of my own mirror. But isn't that why I took this class? To challenge myself?

In any case, I'm finding the whole cabaret thing to be "fun! fun! fun!"

(okay, pardon my dorky sense of humor).

later...

-h-

In Sync

I woke up this morning at 5:30 am, graded exams, and went to teach. Then, I came home and started eating lunch and watching last night's Idol at around 11:10 am.

Narc just texted me: Wow. Everyone's eating it on "Idol"...

So, of course, I called him right away.

"Narc, are you watching Idol right now???"

"Yeah..."

"Me too!!!"

"Yeah, well I woke up early this morning to do work and now I'm just taking a lunch break and catching up on Idol," he said. "But they're all bad! Lisa was bad, Pickler was bad and Ace was bad!"

"Wait-- what? You just saw the first three?"

"Yeah, Taylor is about to sing."

"ME TOO!!! I also woke up early today and I'm also taking a lunch break and watching Idol and I'm also exactly up to the part where Taylor is about to go on! Isn't that strange???"

"Yeah, I guess... They suck though. The best line of the night so far-- Simon to Pickler: Of thousands of songs from the past six years, you picked a song called Suds in the Bucket!"

"I know! So... How's your writing coming? Hope you're making progress towards you April 1st deadline!"

"Yeah... I've got to write, write, write..." He sounded kind of uncomfortable-- like he wanted to get off the phone. "I even cancelled my Eight at Eight tonight."

"Well, good, then... I guess I'll let you get back to it!"

"Okay."

"Talk to you soon."

"Yeah, sure. I'm sure we will."

"Bye."

So, we are in sync.

Strange.

A Letter from Anxious and a Question

A Letter from Anxious:

The writing in boldface is hers. The italicized text is excerpts from an email that I sent to her. The code-names "Hipster" and "Pioneer" (her name for BulgarianGuy) are her terms that she casually threw into the email even though I don't use those names with her and have never heard them before. What reason does she have to be using codes in a personal email? Kind of strange... Anyway, does anyone else see what is so quintessentially "Anxious" about this letter? Do you see her passive competitiveness?

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

HI!!

Sorry I've been such a flake getting back to you!

No worries...figured you were busy and predicted you'd check in at some point, and I was right!

I thought of you at choir practice last night b/c at the end of the Shostakovich piece, we all have to start dancing around in glee. It's like your dream choir performance!

OOHHH!! That sounds like so much fun!!! And did you know Shostakovich is my favorite composer???

Did you go to JKid's thing? Was it fun?

Well, I intended to go, but on the late side -- the Hipster and I spent the day at Ikea so I needed to come back, unpack stuff, shower, change, etc. I got to the Lower East Side about 11:30 and the Hipster called and said everyone had had a drink and left early, and the second half the the party was going to be at a notoriously raunchy gay bar (called Cock...subtle!) and nobody was going to that except gay men. So I ended up missing it and just met up with the Hipster and the Pioneer for drinks. They knew I was feeling nostalgic about having met them both a year ago, and they like each other a lot anyhow, although the Hipster keeps complaining that when we go out together, especially if I'm all dressed up and showing cleavage, everyone thinks I'm his hot date and he has no chances with women!

My life has been chaotic b/c I've been sick for about a week and a half.

Sick again?? Oy, you need more sleep! Me too. Did I tell you I had strep recently? I was totally knocked out for a week and half as well, and I kept on promising people I'd do things in "a day or so" and not getting better. I got way behind on work, since I didn't feel like talking (shocking!) or interviewing ANYBODY.

At the same time I've had to give (and grade midterms).

I have a midterm horror story. There's this one class I've been really struggling in. Well, I studied like crazy and felt I aced the midterm. I was shocked and delighted because I figured the teacher would finally see I was smart and could speak Spanish after all. Well, her car was broken into and her briefcase stolen with about half the midterms ungraded -- mine among them. Not only do I have to redo the test (arduous!), but she'll never know, now that it's take home, how well I did the first time with no help/texts/dictionaries etc. Urk.


Plus, I had three dates on last Thursday (don't ask... but it was the usual-- Narc, Stallion and then the new guy). Whatever... chaos seems to like me (or vice versa)

You spicy thing, you! ;) Personally I think multiple men is a good idea. I always said I needed two husbands and at the moment I have them. BulgarianGuy's always working late, so I go out for long, leisurely dinners with wine with the Hipster. We shop for furniture, do brunch, go shopping, go to concerts -- the usual couple-y stuff, much of which Bulgi is not interested in (shopping, etc.). Except we don't sleep together, so that's where things diverge, but honestly I've got no interest in sleeping with him anyhow. :)

This weekend I'm headed to LI to see my stepbrother and then I've got my concert on Sunday, but maybe we can meet up this week or something?

Why don't we do lunch? I am back working at the German bank which is about four blocks from your house. And my boss is away Tues. through Thurs., so I'm pretty flexible. Let me know about lunch. I can catch you up on my nutty life -- I just moved, and did I tell you about the Natalie situation? It's a lulu, as my mother would say.

Love,
A

**************************
Oh, and here's my question...

Would you rather be in love with someone and have it be totally unreciprocated or would you rather have someone be in love with you and have it be totally unreciprocated?

(I can't remember who I just had this conversation with... Hammer or NDN or someone else. But there it is...)

-h-

24 Night!

Last night's 24 KICKED ASS!!! It was my favorite episode of the season, and anyone who knows me (and saw the show) will very clearly know why. However, I'll refrain from saying more until our friends across the pond are up to date.

Let's just put it this way-- it gave me something about which to fantasize (other than troubled sex with Narc)...

Hammer came over to watch the show. It was a classic 24-night with Hammer! But before she got here, I had to make a run to Duane Reade to get light bulbs. On the way there, I bumped into NDN coming back from the gym. He agreed to walk me to the drug store, where he recommended I buy a new energy drink--Kabbalah Energy Drink.


It's a red bull knock off and the cans are twice the size. He said it was pretty potent stuff. I'm a caffeine junky and pretty much take it to stabilize, so I was sure whatever it was, it wouldn't make me too jittery. As I sit here and type I'm trying out my first can. The taste (even though sugar free) is a tad too sweet, but I'm feeling a little sharper-- a little less muddy-- and that's the best caffeinated feeling there is!!!



NDN also brought back a bucket of fried chicken from Georgia (which he graciously shared with me on Sunday night) and he promised that there was another piece saved "with my name on it." He brought the chicken over at around 11:00.

Hammer and I stayed up talking WAY later than we should have! It was a good theraputic talk though. In addition to our ever-present issues with "boys," she was having blogger issues-- wanting to keep both her haloscan comments and get regular blogger comments going as well, and she couldn't figure out how to do it. I have a very low tolerance for frustration and get super-invested in figuring things out when there's a problem like that posed, so I was determined to help her. (I especially get like that with things computer related!) Even though she left here at about 1:30 am, I stayed online until nearly 3:00 am until I worked it out for her. Hammer was online back at her place too, so we chatted a little more before bed. I can't wait to see how the next chapter in her SingMan saga unfolds!

As for Narc, he texted me yesterday: Off to screenwriters meeting. How was your concert?

That screenwriters meeting is in my neighborhood and meets twice a month. Over the past month or so, he's always called me after the meeting. I didn't text him back right away, but wondered if he would call me after the meeting anyway. He didn't. "Playing it cool," I guess. It's just as well, as I was exhausted and with Hammer... But the politics of it... It still threw me off a bit.

I eventually wrote back: Concert was great. The audience gave us a standing O. :) Hope you had fun at meeting...

Hmm... What else is going on? B and I had a "heart to heart" of sorts yesterday that I don't really want to get into. He's coming over this afternoon for a few hours today. What else...? I had therapy this morning and that went pretty well, if only because I blabbed the whole time and didn't have to face up to any real critique because there was no time for it.

Oh-- also, I've taken to watching Intervention on A&E. It's depressing but most compelling. It has me transfixed. Last night (at 4:00 am) I also watched Spying on Myself on A&E. That show has a really strange premise!

I've got a really busy week coming up... Cabaret tonight and grading midterms; teaching tomorrow and then choir practice and then BarMan's show at Back Fence; going to a museum opening with Bezoukhoff on Thursday; teaching all day Friday and then going to a benefit dinner with my mom; going to hear Barbara Cook at the Carlyle on Saturday (possibly followed by a party with NDN and Hammer); singing in another concert on Sunday... Oh yeah-- and I have to finish those centerpieces and do some actual real work in between all that too!

Anyway, that's it for now. I'm really in no mood to blog. My eyes are stinging too much. I want to close them. I really need some sleep!

Hope you are all well!

:)

hyde

I Can't Give You Anything

I had my concert tonight. And now I have Tchaikovsky in my head-- a syrupy romantic chorus called Nature and Love (1870), to be exact.

My stomach is full right now. B came to hear my concert and afterwards we ate at Dallas BBQ on 8th street.

I'm in a strange mood right now. I kind of want to write about my weekend, but on the other hand, I'm not much in the mood to write.

I'm not quite sure what to think of the fact that Narc has been around so much lately, that he keeps coming to my apartment, or that I'm feeling less in love with him-- even on some level disgusted with him. I don't think I'm really disgusted with him. I think I'm disgusted with myself.

When I was younger and wildly morbid I used to have suicidal thoughts all the time. On Friday when I took a shower I blasted Showboat on my stereo. That seems to have become a new mini-ritual for me on Fridays-- an early evening bath or shower with some kind of sweeping romantic (and intensely private) music. I was listening to Old Man River. I used to listen to that song and think "yeah-- that's me. I'm 'tired of living but scared of dying.'" But when I heard it this time, I realized that it's just the opposite is true. "I'm tired of dying but scared of living." I think that's why I disgust myself these days.

In any case, he called me on Friday night and I got up out of bed and paid for his cab and went to drink with him. I'm a little disappointed in myself because I had been trying to "tough it out" and stay home that night. I had been feeling anxious and lonely and texted B telling him so.

I know the feeling. And I love my "H" SO!!! he wrote back.

Later, he sent me another text: Huuuggggggggg!!!!!!!!
And then: How's my favorite "H" doing?

I told him that I was still feeling lonely and anxious and awful, and that I had the urge to go out drinking, but that I also felt loved.

Very loved! he wrote. SO! Take it easy and get some rest, okay? You'll be glad tomorrow. I promise.

B was probably right, but Narc called. And out with Narc I went! We decided on Manchester Pub (it was likely not very crowded and Narc insists on a seat at the bar-- a place to "perch," as he puts it). On the way there bumped into an actor-friend of his, right on Second Avenue! Narc introduced me.

"Where are you guys off to?" his friend asked.

"To get drunk," Narc said.

I smiled.

"I haven't seen that guy since my Oscar-party!" Narc commented as we continued on our way.

The Oscar-party that was just a "few" close friends? The Oscar-party to which I was "dis-invited"?

Everything was fine at Manchester. He asked me for cigarettes.

"I don't have any on me," I told him.

He was surprised.

"Why are you so surprised? I don't smoke that much anymore..." I put my hand on my neck. "The voice-- remember?"

He was disappointed.

"Why don't you go buy us some?" I passed him a twenty.

"Are you sure? I'll get you back all the money, Hyde," he said.

"Whatever... You don't have to pay me for the cigarettes. But, to be honest, I was annoyed that you said I owed you money."

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"I mean, since when do we keep track of things like that? It's ridiculous! You pay sometimes, I pay sometimes. Since when do I owe you for getting drinks last week?"

"But you--"

"Narc-- if we're gonna start seeing who owes money here, what about when we went the opera and I paid your brunch or in January at Cheers when I paid that huge tab?"

"What, are you keeping track or something?" He looked pissed off.

"No, I'm not keeping track! It's just that both those times you hurt my feelings. With the opera, I got you the ticket so I expected a 'thank you.' And that time at Cheers, do you remember what you said to me? Do you remember what you said? I bought you off a long time ago. That's what you said!"

He looked at me for a moment.

"Okay, you're right. You're right, Hyde. You're right. I'm sorry. It's just... Well, I just called my mom a week and a half ago, and I don't have anything now, so I-- I mean, I guess I was just scrounging around for what I could... But you're right. I don't like being like that with money with friends."

He smiled at me and touched my hair. He put a piece of hair behind my ear in the way that I love.

"Well, okay," I smiled back. "Go get the cigarettes. Do you know where to go?"

"I think I can manage," he said.

When he came back with the cigarettes he told me he saw a couple hail a cab. The man thought he would be joining the woman in the cab, but she jumped in, said good night, closed the door and totally shut him down.

"Was the guy upset?" I asked Narc.

"Nah. He took it like a man."

The rest of the night went on okay. At one point, I said something about when I lived with B.

"Wait-- you guys lived together!?!" he asked. "I didn't know that!"

"Yeah! For two years! 2000-2002."

At another point we had an alarmingly strange conversation in which Narc told me that he doesn't understand why people are so afraid of death.

"I also hate when everyone gets so wrapped up in the whole mystery of things," he said. "It's no mystery. I know what happens when you die. I've been there! I've seen it!"

He was very drunk and was escalating his voice to drown out the objections he anticipated from me.

"Yes, Hyde! I've seen it! I know!"

"Well, maybe people are afraid of death because they'll miss their loved ones and their loved ones will miss them. Even if you believe, as apparently you do, that death is not a permanent end, it's still an end to something."

"Whatever... how much could you miss someone?" he grinned.

"A lot," I said.

This was an increasingly bizarre conversation-- the kind of stupid conversation I should have shrugged off but in which I somehow found myself suddenly invested.

"Hasn't anyone close to you ever died?"

He rolled his eyes at me. "You know the answer to that Hyde!"

"I do?"

"The closest person to me was Sal-- the bartender at the Tavern who died this summer. Remember that? I came to see you and we came here. We were sitting here! Right here!" he said, slapping the bar.

"Well, take it from me then, you can't imagine how much you can miss someone."

I felt sad.

At around 3:00 am I had a text appear from Hammer. (I think she sent it earlier but for some reason it didn't show until then.)

"Tell Hammer she's a wanker!" he said. "Go ahead. Text her that!"

Uh oh. "Wanker-Narc." I needed to cut the drinking.

"You must be gone," I said.

"What do you mean?"

"You said 'wanker.' I think it's time to go home."

When the bill came, it drew attention to the whole "money-issue" again. I'm not sure I remember why (as I was going on six drinks and was tipsy), but Narc got upset at me. We were sitting there on barstools when he hit me in the chest. It wasn't a hard hit or anything, but it upset me. And it was enough for the bartender to come over to us.

"Woah! What's that?" she said. "I think you should cut it."

"Yeah, Narc! Don't treat me like that!" I was angry now. "You can't do things like that!"

"Okay, fine, Hyde. I'm just an awful person then."

"Let's go," I said, putting the tip down and heading towards the door.

He stood on the street outside, swaying back and forth like one of those standing punching bags that kids like to play with.

"I'm just horrible to you."

"You're not horrible, but you can't get rough with me like that when you're drunk! You've done it before and it's not cool."

"Nope, I'm bad, Hyde! Awful, bad, miserable, terrible! Just go! GO! Leave me here and go!"

He was slurring his words and was clearly not about to reason with me.

"I'm not leaving you here. Come on..."

"No! Leave! Go! I'm so awful, you shouldn't be with me. GO!!!"

"Narc! You're really drunk and have no money. We're nowhere near your place. I'm not leaving you here on the street at 3:30 in the morning! Let's go! Let's just go home. I don't want to fight."

After a few more protests, he must have realized that I was right about his predicament, because he allowed me to take his arm and lead him towards my place. He was swaying the whole way and hitting up against building walls. I wasn't really clear-headed myself, so we must have been a sight to see.

When we reached my building, I told him to straighten up at least while we walked past the doorman. He did a reasonably good job of it. Once we were in the elevator, he threw me up against the wall and started kissing me with complete (but sloppy) abandon. And once inside the apartment, it was more of the same, him tearing at my clothes. We started to fool around in the living room, but he couldn't stand very well, and I thought it best to head into the bedroom. He fell on the way there, and I screamed for fear that he had hit his head. He seemed to be okay though. But then in the bedroom, he fell again-- out of the bed and nearly hit his head on my makeup table. I was really worried about him.

He was so out of it, that it was clear that sex wasn't about to happen, and it wasn't long before he passed out. The strange thing came in the morning. When I woke up, his head was at the foot of the bed. How did he make that turn in the night without me noticing? Even stranger, his t-shirt was on the floor near the foot of the bed and it was soaking wet! Nothing else was wet-- not the bed, nor the floor near the shirt. Just the shirt. I picked up the shirt and smelled it. It wasn't urine. So what had happened? A mega-mystery.

Anyway, he gave me a hard time getting him up on Saturday morning. I woke up at around 10:00. B sent me a message early in the morning: Good morning! Rise and shine! Stretch! :) He was still concerned about me from the night before. It was so sweet! I talked to Hammer on the phone while I got dressed and ran across the street to the deli for gatorade, red bull and smart water. I bought one of each for Narc. But he really wouldn't get up!

"Just leave me here to sleep," he murmered. "I'll leave on my own. I won't snoop..."

"I'm not leaving you here," I protested. "So WAKE up! Don't make me miss this train because of you. It's incredibly immature."

I was annoyed. I can't imagine doing to anyone what he was doing to me.

After nearly an hour of concerted effort on my part, he got up. He looked like a bleary-eyed rumpled zombie. I laughed and kissed him to try to make the situation better. He was coughing and sputtering while we waited for the elevator.

"I know... I'm still sick too," I said. "The two of us. Ugh! We should be healthy, vital, energetic young adults, and look at us! Our bodies constantly breaking down."

"I feel La Boheme," he said.

"Che tosse!" I laughed. "Except her cough was from poverty and deprivation. Ours is from excess. We're awful."

I gave Narc $40 and put him in a cab. Then I dashed over to Penn Station.

Like I said in my last post-- I had a wonderful afternoon with my family, largely due to the marked improvements with my stepbrother. It was amazing to see him upright and making the effort to walk. We all sang songs and cheered him on as he twisted, struggled and dragged himself from one room to the other. He was so proud of himself when he arrived. It was amazing. He's still basically half paralyzed, but God willing, he will be able to really move his bad side one of these days.

BigSis now owns a car and is living out in Forest Hills, so on the way back, she offered to give me a ride to the E-train near her place. I agreed and she got me to the subway by 5:45, so I was back in my apartment by 6:30. Narc had texted a few times.

First: Dying...!
And then at around 6:00 pm: Yep. Showered and still dying...
At 6:45: "Over the Top" is on. Woohoo!! When are you back in?
At 7:15: Call when you're in...

This is weird, don't you think? I mean, most of you have been reading here for quite some time now. Narc has always been impossible to get a hold of and slow to respoind. Why is he so present? So clingy these days? Why now? I don't know what to make of it!!! Even thought I was home at 6:30, I didn't call until 10:00. He didn't pick up, so I left him a message.

"Hey Narc... Just saying hi. I'm back. Not sure what I'm doing with my night. I'm kind of tired... Might stay in; might go out. But give me a call when you get this."

After that I just got on the phone with Liu for a while, during which Narc sent me another text: At dinner party now, but probably leaving soon. Can come to your place if you're still up.

Again-- strange! In the past year and half, he's only EVER offered to come to my place if he's already in the neighborhood! I didn't know what to think. I went to Cheers.

Cheers was remarkably empty for a Saturday night. Plus BarMan had the night off. It was a strange vibe. Even so, there were a lot of people there that I knew-- Manwich (who told me that his friend P was asking about me and was disappointed that I never called him), Roman, OldTimer, PreppyGirl, SurgeonGirl, BulgarianGuy and DateRapeGuy's brother (yuck!). IrishBird was hosting karaoke and really needed to get singers up because it was such a slow night. I have an awful cold right now and shouldn't have sang. Even though I didn't want to do it, I agreed to it. My voice cracked on one of the notes and I was SO upset. I take pride in my singing and don't like to do it in public unless I'm reasonably assured that I sound good. Everyone else seemed to think it was good, but it really wasn't.

Anyway, PCuz (so named because he's PumpedUp's cousin) was tending bar and kept the double jack and diets coming. I was getting drunk by myself and still hadn't heard from Narc. He texted me at 12:11: Leaving soon, will head up, but never showed. At 1:00 am I wrote to him again: Where are you??? He arrived at around 1:30.

I was drunk-- drunk enough to have just sang the Moulin Rouge song with SurgeonGirl and wrecked my cords. Narc was not drunk. He said he only had one beer.

"You're not drinking?!?" I asked incredulously.

"No. Last night took care of me..."

"But I feel bad... I'm kind of drunk, and you're not!"

I genuinely felt guilty and afraid... afraid that I would say something or behave in a way that wasn't exactly measured. Upon reflection, it's interesting that I have so much anxiety about that-- it's like I like to be able to gauge everything about him and respond "correctly," but if I'm drunk and he's not, I can't do that. I need some lessons in how to trust people enough to behave naturally. Even when I don't realize I'm doing it, I'm constantly, obsessively and sensitively adapting myself to the signals I get from others.

IrishBird called me to sing I Will Always Love You which I did. I bought Narc a drink and pointed out DateRapeGuy's brother to Narc. I think Narc thought it was weird that I did that. Then we left. I bought him a sandwich at the deli because he was still hungry. Then I got us some red bull for the morning.

Back at my place we watched parts of The Aviator on TV and then went to bed and had sex. Nothing of much note happened... This morning we woke up at around 11:00. He bummed around here while I got dressed for my concert. Then we shared a cab downtown. He got out with me at Washington Square Park and walked me to the church door. It was drizzling on our heads. He didn't come to the concert. Just as well, as the only friend I was expecting was B and that would not have been a good combination.

The concert was a great success. The audience was roaring in laughter at the Shostakovich and I got to crush on the rumbling bass all over again! B winked at me at the start of the concert when I found him in the audience. I told him about my crush on the bass and when he began to sing, I locked eyes with B again and he smiled as if to laugh at me. It was cute. I love having him in my life.

After the concert, I switched into jeans and a dirty t-shirt (my favorite uniform) and I met him in the entrance-way. We ate our dinner and then started walking uptown. We crossed over to Third Avenue by way of 9th street and I showed him the building where my parents first lived together (and where BigSis was conceived!). We walked all the way to Murray Hill and Drippy's street, pausing along the way for some bubble tea (which B and I call "sago"-- its Tagalog name).

Sometimes I miss B and felt angry and resentful towards Drippy. Last year we used to hang out 3-4 days a week for hours on end and have a "sleep-over" at least once a week. Now I get him two days of the week for around 2 hours and that's it. I hate it. Tonight I felt clingy and desperate and a sense of "falling" in my chest when we had to say goodbye. I don't want to put too much on him though. I know it's tough for him to balance my needs with Drippy's, and she IS his girlfriend. They may move in together in a few months and I have really mixed feelings about that. It makes me anxious and I don't really feel like thinking about it right now.

Anyway, that brings me to this moment. In the course of writing this post, I no longer have Tchaikovsky in my head. I've been listening to Judy Garland (who has a sob in her voice that kills me). Right now she's singing "I Can't Give you Anything But Love." Tell me about it...

I can't give you anything...

I can't give you anything...

I can't give you anything but love.

Mini-Update

Last night I was intending to go to bed early. I was laying in bed watching "24" by midnight. (ST-- I don't think I'm giving too much away when I say this, but I love it when Jack gets rough with the ladies!). Then my phone rang. It was drunk Narc. He said he wanted me. I agreed to see him out of routine. Honestly, I still felt unattracted to him and annoyed, but I agreed...

He came here, but still had no money so I had to pay for everything. We went to Manchester Pub. He was as drunk as I've ever seen him-- unable to walk, talk, etc. I tried to talk to him about the money thing. (More on that later).

He was difficult to wake up this morning. His head was at the foot of the bed, mysteriously. I lent him money and sent him home.

I went to Long Island and spent the day with my mother, two sisters, stepfather and stepbrother. My stepbrother is starting to be able to walk (sort of-- with a walker, and by dragging his bad foot and leaning on another person). But he's trying. And I taught him a song on piano!!! (Again-- sort of). More on that later... He's also starting to try to use a regular toilet, although it's going to take a while for all of this.

I just got back to the city. Narc texted me twice that he's still "dying." No doubt. He was in "rare form" last night.

I was talking to Hammer this morning. She's right-- N and the Wizard are both losers. I'm starting to see it. Although, I'm not sure why now when never before. Will this stick???

I need to go polish my nails now.

-h-