Loose Ends

A blast from the past... from exactly a year ago, actually.

I was at my meeting last night, politely applauding my way through the stream of day-counters, when guess what I heard?

"Hi, I'm Merlin and I'm an alcoholic."

Merlin!?! Do you guys remember him? He was that super strange guy I met while at a party with NDN and Narc just about exactly a year ago. (If you forgot, you can read about it here.) In any case, I said hi to him after the meeting, and I think it scared him a little... It kind of blew my mind.

Meema qualified at the meeting and she was great. She talked about what had helped her most in sobriety and one of things she named was me! It was so sweet that I actually started tearing up. It was a huge meeting and afterwards, several people mentioned it to me. Her husband came to hear her speak and it was nice-- usually I only hear her complain about her problems with her husband, but she was so loving about him in her qualification and he was so proud of her that I got to see an entire other side of their relationship. It reminded me not to be so swift to pass judgement.

Slope and Lana and I went out to eat after the meeting. We walked to Houston's at the CitiCorp center. While we were waiting for our table, I noticed a little jazz trio near the bar, and I recognized the pianist! It was the guy who plays Mondays and Fridays down at Monster-- the same one who once told me he was the duc de Saint-Simon. I went over to him to say hi.

"What are you doing in Midtown?" I asked.

He thought that was really funny.

I had a nice time with Slope and Lana last night, but I was sharply aware of how much younger they are. It's not that they're immature... they're not. They're just younger. And it shows. I felt a little out of place. At one point we realized that the year I got arrested for buying coke, Lana was only 11! That freaked me out.

Anyway... also yesterday, I said my final goodbyes to Brick. He disappointed me so deeply, but I am really starting to see how this whole 4th step/ 10th step thing works. My part in it all is so glaringly clear to me that I can't blame him. I knew from day one what he was like.

You all know how he has completely blown me off (for no apparent reason) ever since he started to feel more comfortable in AA. Well, yesterday afternoon he sent me a text:

Hey... would u mind emailing me my updated resume and cover letter?

I couldn't believe the gall he has to ask me for a favor! He is absolutely ridiculous. It got me so fuming mad that I nearly punched a wall.

Later in the afternoon I was talking to Meema. She agreed that Brick's behavior is inexplicably self-centered and outrageous, and she convinced me that I wouldn't feel better unless I said something. So... I called Brick and left him a message, telling him that I thought he had a lot of nerve to ask me for a favor when he hasn't contacted me in over a month except to demand his clothing back and to tell me he has no time for me.

He was too much of a coward to call me back, instead sending me a text: That is the only place I saved them...

Now I was really mad. So, I wrote back to him: So. rewrite them. I don't want to be nice to you. You hurt me. Sorry...

His reply? It is not about being nice... it is about giving me what is mine... i don't hate u... i care about u... but our friendship was too toxic and guilt ridden.

Again, I found this whole thing to be ludicrous. The only thing "guilt ridden" about our friendship was the fact that Brick felt guilty when I complained that he blew me off four or five times in a row. I have to say, though-- he's right about the relationship being toxic. I'll give him that.

Anyway, I thought about the whole thing and didn't want it on my conscience and didn't want to have to deal with him ever again, so I called him one more time. Predictably, he didn't pick up.

"It's Hyde," I said. "I'll send you your stuff, but only for the sake of doing the right thing, and not having it on my head-- for my own sobriety and not because I want to be nice to you..."

(I know... But I'm only halfway better...).

"I've told you that you really hurt me," I went on. "You were one of my best friends. And if you found our relationship to be 'toxic and guilt ridden' then the very least you could have done was said that to me and ended the relationship upfront as opposed to ignoring me and confusing me and hurting me the way you did. Anyway, I hope that this is the last thing that you need from me because I don't ever want to hear from you after this. Good luck with your sobriety and take care..."

And that's that. For some reason, it is coming easy to me now... I don't want to see him ever again.

Last night I was up late grading midterms (so I got no reprieve from my sleepless state the night before!). And I kind of slipped and texted Narc. I am so determined not to obsess about him that I don't really want to write to him, but for the sake of being thorough, here's what I said:

Do you remember a year ago you met me at my friend's bday in Chelsea and there was a really weird guy there we got coke from? (The same night we went to Biddy Early's & you debated that guy on Joyce). Anyway, I saw the strange coke guy at AA tonight. SO surreal, I had to tell you...

He wrote back pretty quickly: They guy who texted you with "Who dis?" Yeah, I remember him. Pretty funny...

I can't believe Narc remembered a detail that I had forgotten! For some fucked up reason, it warmed my heart. I'm still so crazy about him, but fighting tooth and nail for my sanity.

I wrote back:

Ha ha! I forgot that part. But I went up & said hi to him today & think I completely freaked him out. Of course, he didn't remember... Anyway, I'm back to grading midterms. Sweet dreams.

I had to end the conversation conclusively. Otherwise, I know Narc... I would try to continue texting, he would ignore some question of mine and just decide he was "done" with the coverstaion and I would be left hanging-- nauseated and anxious, trying to fall asleep with the phone in my hand.

Ugh. In any case, there was no point in texting him to begin with and I kind of feel shitty that I did it. Old habits just die hard, I guess.

This morning, while I was teaching, I had to give a student a makeup exam. She sat through the class and took the entire exam. Afterwards, as I was gathering up my papers, preparing to return to my office, she approached me.

"What's up?" I asked.

"I'm really embarrassed to say this," she said, "but I took the wrong exam."

"What do you mean you took the wrong exam?"

"I was supposed to take the one on ancient history and instead I took the other one-- the one on French Revolution and stuff..."

"And you only realized this just now?" I asked, incredulously.

"Yeah," she mumbled. "I thought it looked a little unfamiliar and afterwards I checked my study sheet and realized that none of the stuff I studied was on the test I took."

She is a fucking moron. I'm sorry, but that does it. I am officially over feeling bad when a student fails one of my tests. If anyone can be that plainly moronic, it clearly has nothing to do with what I do in the classroom!

Anyway, I have a lot more midterms to grade today, reading to do for class, a voice lesson at 4:00 pm (yay! But I'm scared...) and class tonight. Then, I have to finish that conference paper by tomorrow... Oh yeah-- and the never ending Fourth Step. So much to do on so little sleep! I'm off in search of caffeine.

Love,

h