I have spotty Internet connection right now and I hope it gets fixed soon.
Today was a fucking looooong day!! I was up all night last night (Friday) being an insomniac and doing genealogical research online. Then I spent all day today at an AA picnic. Then I went out with NDN and his friends to celebrate his birthday. Oc was there and I haven't seen him in a really long time! (He sent me a sweet text afterwards: "It was really good seeing you! I miss your unadulterated quest for knowledge, friendship and style.")
All of that came to a close at around 2:00 AM. TT was at Cheers, though, and invited me over, so I went. It was the Bouncer's last night and PCuz's last night there. PumpedUp and PCuz bought a place a few blocks down where they're opening an "upscale" lounge, so PCuz and the Bouncer are going to go work over there. (They invited me to the opening on Monday night, but I don't think I should go). I stayed until closing. PumpedUp was so sweet to me tonight. He told me that I have an amazing brain and that he's glad that I'm not wasting it anymore. He also said that I was "the best" and such a "kind girl." ThursdayGirl told me that I have a gleam in my eye.
I am so grateful for the gifts of sobriety. I just wish I didn't still love being up at all hours and hanging out in bars. I can't make a habit of this. I simply have too much to lose.
Anyway, there's a lot more I could say about the day's events, but I'm too tired to get into it all right now.
My eyes are stinging, but I'm not quite tired. I'm going to get into bed anyway.
love,
h
Sunday, September 30, 2007
Friday, September 28, 2007
The post I'll wish I hadn't written
Last night was a strange and semi-wonderful night. (I only say "semi" because I still don't quite understand it). It was also the strangest sex that I've ever had...
I was feeling kind of crappy for most of the day yesterday. I've been having some issues with my post-surgery recovery and that was acting up. I'm going to see the doctor on Wednesday to take care of it. So, I was kind of fatigued and self-pitying and irritable. But I was glad that I got myself over to the AA meeting. It was good to see StarGazer and Pixie and Cherubino and some of the newer girls. Afterwards, I walked home and chatted with my friend Jake on the phone. We made dinner plans for next week.
When I got home, I was relieved to be back in my house. Lana called and we talked for a while. She is turning 21 this weekend and was a little anxious about planning the party. Then, at around 10:30 PM, I got a text from Narc. He said he was at Circa Tabac in Soho reading Shogun and asked if I wanted to join. Even though I was exhausted, I agreed.
When I got there, Narc was sitting at the bar, his back to me. I pulled up a bar stool close next to him and touched his arm.
"I knew it was you by your scent," he said. "You came in with a cloud of perfume."
I laughed.
Narc was drinking Jack Daniels on the rocks. It looked good. I ordered a diet coke. Circa Tabac is one of the few bars left in the city where smoking is permitted. I bummed one of his "black and golds." It reminded me of when he left a whole bag of them here at my apartment in October, 2005.
Narc was raving about Shogun. He told me that I was the only girl he ever recommended the book to (I still have his old copy) and that he couldn't believe I didn't take to it.
"But it's probably because you're a woman," he theorized.
There is always a lot of talk about male minds versus female minds with him. He told me to buy some special kind of cigarette with honey filters, so I did. It felt good to chain-smoke again. It felt good to be sitting in a bar (perched!). I loved the lighting, the smell, my knees bumping against his. I loved chewing on my straw. I just love bars. I really do.
We talked about a lot of things-- too many to recount. But some of it was refreshing and strange to me. We talked about AA.
"If it works for you, I have to respect that," he said. "I have no objections to that."
I was shocked.
"But it's outdated technology," he said.
"What do you mean?"
He went on to explain that AA was a design for living that is outdated and that there are much better spiritual programs out there like the Landmark Forum. (He has been talking about the Landmark Forum ever since I met him!) He kept trying to convince me to do the Forum.
"If you do it, you won't need AA anymore!"
"I like AA," I said. "Besides, I have no objection to the forum, but I can't afford it."
He was so adamant about me going, that he eventually offered to pay for it. However, I doubt that it will ever happen...
So, we talked some more... About Beauty and the Geek, about images, the nature of reality. I don't remember why, but I brought up that I have been listening to Regina Spektor.
"PopStar is SOOO jealous of her!" he exclaimed.
"Huh? Why?"
"Because she's another young Russian chick."
This, of course, got us onto the topic of PopStar-- a subject I used to dread, but which has now become neutralized. I don't seem to mind now at all.
Narc told me that he thinks that she was cheating on him from the very start-- with some "black DJ," when she was here in NY and then with "several lovers" when she was in Moscow.
"Well, you cheated on her too," I smiled.
"Yeah, but that's only because I knew she was cheating on me."
He looked sad or foolish. I couldn't tell. But, I couldn't help but hate her.
"I want to punch her in the face!" I told him. "You don't deserve that."
He laughed.
"Yeah, me too. I want to punch her in the face and make her nose bleed until it runs all over the floor."
Then I laughed.
"Get ready for a blog post from me in the next day or two," he smiled. "She's going to be looking very, very bad."
"Just be with someone nicer the next time," I said. "Someone who really wants to be with you."
"Yeah..."
He sighed to himself.
"Don't ever repeat this to me, but I'm going to tell you a secret."
"What?"
"I never even liked her to begin with. I never liked her as a person."
(Somehow, I wasn't surprised).
"But you just convinced yourself you were in love with her?"
"She was just the most driven girl I've ever met. She was going to be a PopStar. I thought it would drive me. I would be a famous director and she would be a famous popstar. But her songwriting sucks. And she's too old to start out as a Madonna now..."
It was strange to be having this conversation with him. But I felt like he was being himself. And I felt very close to him. I just kept puffing on my honey-tipped cigs. He was tossing back the Jack Daniels pretty fast-- at least five or six since I had arrived and who knows how many before.
Later, he asked me if I was sleeping with anyone other than him.
"No... not since September 2005," I said. "Oh... except for giving one blow job a few months later."
"Hyde, that's not healthy!" he exclaimed. "You should be with more...men." But he was smiling. I know it made him happy.
"What do you want me to do? Just sleep with random people?"
"No, but..."
"If I meet someone to be in a relationship with, that's a different story. Besides, I'd tell you if I was having sex with other people. You'd have the right to know... for health reasons."
"I just assume you're safe," he said.
"Well, I assume you are too... I hope you are."
"I haven't been with anyone except for you and Pop," he said.
(I wondered if she was safe, but kept my mouth shut).
At around 2:00 AM, it was time to go. I was sad to go. I liked being there. I liked being there with him.
Outside the streets were wet.
"It rained?" he asked.
"Um... I guess so."
The pavement was shining with red and yellow lights. The puddles were oily and black. We saw the silhouettes of a man and a woman, both with short hair.
"They look like they're straight out of a David Lynch movie," he observed.
"I had a really good time tonight," I answered.
He smiled at me. It was a friendly smile-- a connected smile. It was strange. He put his arm around my waist. We took a few steps towards Seventh to get a cab.
As for the rest of the night, I'm not sure what to write and what not to write. I want to write everything so that my memory is preserved, but at the same time, I don't want to make certain intimacies public. I never know how to write about sex. I always feel conflicted. I guess I'll do the job halfway and leave out the weirdest stuff.
In any case, as soon as we got back to his place I got on my knees and gave him a blowjob. Then he wanted another drink. He mixed up a Hennessy martini with a cucumber garnish.
"It's my signature drink," he said.
"What happened to the drink you invented? The one you named after yourself?"
"I found out that it already existed. It's called a 'red snapper.'"
"Oh."
Narc started telling me about some documentary about the moon landing. He was getting really excited about it, about the idea of exploration.
"I wish there was a way for men to be men in this society," he said. "A rite of passage... a life or death moment. For women it's easy-- they have their rite of passage-- it's menstruation."
What does one say to that?
He somehow got back onto the topic of Shogun and the adventures of the 16th century explorers. I was naked and wanted to lay down.
"No, sit up!" he insisted. "We're talking!"
Some time after that we got onto the topic of pornography and Narc was asking me all sorts of questions about what kind of pornography I watch (something else I don't usually discuss on the blog). I didn't want to tell him. I was embarrassed. It's strange-- despite everything we've been through, there are still huge pieces of my sexuality that I hadn't shared with him. But he kept insisting, and so eventually I described it to him. I have a subscription to a website, so he went into the bedroom and hooked up his computer to the giant TV screen mounted on the living room wall.
We watched scenes from a few of the movies interspersed with sex. It was strange for me to share that with him. He was rough with me and hit my face. I liked it. It was just sex, sex, sex... strange sex for hours. His foot was on my face, in my eyes. In between everything, we paused for cigarettes and he for martinis. I felt like something had lurched forward, but I couldn't identify what it was.
At around 4:00 AM and then closer to 5:00 AM, I kept trying to move us into the bedroom. Narc wasn't ready to go. He kept coming up with new reasons for us to have to stay in the living room, smoking and fucking. My eyes were stinging.
Finally, I got him to move.
"I want you to fall asleep with me in your mouth," he said. "Like a pacifier."
"Okay," I agreed.
But he kept getting up out of bed every 20 minutes or so to have another drink. I remember what that feeling is like.
When he finally got into bed for good, the sex got even weirder and freer... He was kissing me so passionately.
"I want to hire a girl to come over here and do ----------- with you," he said.
"Now? What? It's late, Narc!"
I'm glad that held him.
In any case, I guess I won't go into it all. But finally, at nearly 7:00 AM and still exhausted, I was asleep.
This morning my eyes opened just after 11:00 AM. My phone was ringing. It was the doctor about setting up a procedure to fix my complication. I took the call in the other room. I wasn't sure if the spell with Narc was broken.
But when I got back into bed, I saw that it wasn't. He grabbed me around the waist and pulled me in so close. More sex and more sex. More and more and more until it was nearly time for me to leave for therapy.
"I want you in the shower with me," he said.
Things in the shower got stranger still... Like I said, I have no boundaries. (Maybe I'll regret not being more explicit here, but I just CAN'T write about all that right now). He wanted to do things I never knew he was into. How can I just be discovering him now? After over three years? My head was spinning. My eyes were stinging.
He got out of the shower first while I finished up. When I came out, I heard him on the phone with James.
"Yeah, I was at Circa Tabac last night," he said. "Just reading... home not too late."
Again, I was written out of existence. But I didn't care. Instead of hurt, I felt pity-- that he can't be honest with his friends. It's between him and James. It really is none of my business. I felt wasted, spent, used up from the night's events, but strangely calm, at peace, wiser somehow. I doubt it will last, but there it was.
So, at around 1:15, we left together-- he to meet James and I to go to therapy.
Now, the night has fallen again. I'm heading to the Upper East Side tonight to celebrate JBC's birthday. I have to pick up a card before I go. I showered again and dried my hair. My lips are a mulberry color.
I still don't know what I'm feeling except for "okay" and that's okay. It was a weird night-- a moment, something random seized from the universe, something unfolded, something more real. I'll just appreciate it for what it was and move on. This weekend is going to be full of parties.
love,
h
I was feeling kind of crappy for most of the day yesterday. I've been having some issues with my post-surgery recovery and that was acting up. I'm going to see the doctor on Wednesday to take care of it. So, I was kind of fatigued and self-pitying and irritable. But I was glad that I got myself over to the AA meeting. It was good to see StarGazer and Pixie and Cherubino and some of the newer girls. Afterwards, I walked home and chatted with my friend Jake on the phone. We made dinner plans for next week.
When I got home, I was relieved to be back in my house. Lana called and we talked for a while. She is turning 21 this weekend and was a little anxious about planning the party. Then, at around 10:30 PM, I got a text from Narc. He said he was at Circa Tabac in Soho reading Shogun and asked if I wanted to join. Even though I was exhausted, I agreed.
When I got there, Narc was sitting at the bar, his back to me. I pulled up a bar stool close next to him and touched his arm.
"I knew it was you by your scent," he said. "You came in with a cloud of perfume."
I laughed.
Narc was drinking Jack Daniels on the rocks. It looked good. I ordered a diet coke. Circa Tabac is one of the few bars left in the city where smoking is permitted. I bummed one of his "black and golds." It reminded me of when he left a whole bag of them here at my apartment in October, 2005.
Narc was raving about Shogun. He told me that I was the only girl he ever recommended the book to (I still have his old copy) and that he couldn't believe I didn't take to it.
"But it's probably because you're a woman," he theorized.
There is always a lot of talk about male minds versus female minds with him. He told me to buy some special kind of cigarette with honey filters, so I did. It felt good to chain-smoke again. It felt good to be sitting in a bar (perched!). I loved the lighting, the smell, my knees bumping against his. I loved chewing on my straw. I just love bars. I really do.
We talked about a lot of things-- too many to recount. But some of it was refreshing and strange to me. We talked about AA.
"If it works for you, I have to respect that," he said. "I have no objections to that."
I was shocked.
"But it's outdated technology," he said.
"What do you mean?"
He went on to explain that AA was a design for living that is outdated and that there are much better spiritual programs out there like the Landmark Forum. (He has been talking about the Landmark Forum ever since I met him!) He kept trying to convince me to do the Forum.
"If you do it, you won't need AA anymore!"
"I like AA," I said. "Besides, I have no objection to the forum, but I can't afford it."
He was so adamant about me going, that he eventually offered to pay for it. However, I doubt that it will ever happen...
So, we talked some more... About Beauty and the Geek, about images, the nature of reality. I don't remember why, but I brought up that I have been listening to Regina Spektor.
"PopStar is SOOO jealous of her!" he exclaimed.
"Huh? Why?"
"Because she's another young Russian chick."
This, of course, got us onto the topic of PopStar-- a subject I used to dread, but which has now become neutralized. I don't seem to mind now at all.
Narc told me that he thinks that she was cheating on him from the very start-- with some "black DJ," when she was here in NY and then with "several lovers" when she was in Moscow.
"Well, you cheated on her too," I smiled.
"Yeah, but that's only because I knew she was cheating on me."
He looked sad or foolish. I couldn't tell. But, I couldn't help but hate her.
"I want to punch her in the face!" I told him. "You don't deserve that."
He laughed.
"Yeah, me too. I want to punch her in the face and make her nose bleed until it runs all over the floor."
Then I laughed.
"Get ready for a blog post from me in the next day or two," he smiled. "She's going to be looking very, very bad."
"Just be with someone nicer the next time," I said. "Someone who really wants to be with you."
"Yeah..."
He sighed to himself.
"Don't ever repeat this to me, but I'm going to tell you a secret."
"What?"
"I never even liked her to begin with. I never liked her as a person."
(Somehow, I wasn't surprised).
"But you just convinced yourself you were in love with her?"
"She was just the most driven girl I've ever met. She was going to be a PopStar. I thought it would drive me. I would be a famous director and she would be a famous popstar. But her songwriting sucks. And she's too old to start out as a Madonna now..."
It was strange to be having this conversation with him. But I felt like he was being himself. And I felt very close to him. I just kept puffing on my honey-tipped cigs. He was tossing back the Jack Daniels pretty fast-- at least five or six since I had arrived and who knows how many before.
Later, he asked me if I was sleeping with anyone other than him.
"No... not since September 2005," I said. "Oh... except for giving one blow job a few months later."
"Hyde, that's not healthy!" he exclaimed. "You should be with more...men." But he was smiling. I know it made him happy.
"What do you want me to do? Just sleep with random people?"
"No, but..."
"If I meet someone to be in a relationship with, that's a different story. Besides, I'd tell you if I was having sex with other people. You'd have the right to know... for health reasons."
"I just assume you're safe," he said.
"Well, I assume you are too... I hope you are."
"I haven't been with anyone except for you and Pop," he said.
(I wondered if she was safe, but kept my mouth shut).
At around 2:00 AM, it was time to go. I was sad to go. I liked being there. I liked being there with him.
Outside the streets were wet.
"It rained?" he asked.
"Um... I guess so."
The pavement was shining with red and yellow lights. The puddles were oily and black. We saw the silhouettes of a man and a woman, both with short hair.
"They look like they're straight out of a David Lynch movie," he observed.
"I had a really good time tonight," I answered.
He smiled at me. It was a friendly smile-- a connected smile. It was strange. He put his arm around my waist. We took a few steps towards Seventh to get a cab.
As for the rest of the night, I'm not sure what to write and what not to write. I want to write everything so that my memory is preserved, but at the same time, I don't want to make certain intimacies public. I never know how to write about sex. I always feel conflicted. I guess I'll do the job halfway and leave out the weirdest stuff.
In any case, as soon as we got back to his place I got on my knees and gave him a blowjob. Then he wanted another drink. He mixed up a Hennessy martini with a cucumber garnish.
"It's my signature drink," he said.
"What happened to the drink you invented? The one you named after yourself?"
"I found out that it already existed. It's called a 'red snapper.'"
"Oh."
Narc started telling me about some documentary about the moon landing. He was getting really excited about it, about the idea of exploration.
"I wish there was a way for men to be men in this society," he said. "A rite of passage... a life or death moment. For women it's easy-- they have their rite of passage-- it's menstruation."
What does one say to that?
He somehow got back onto the topic of Shogun and the adventures of the 16th century explorers. I was naked and wanted to lay down.
"No, sit up!" he insisted. "We're talking!"
Some time after that we got onto the topic of pornography and Narc was asking me all sorts of questions about what kind of pornography I watch (something else I don't usually discuss on the blog). I didn't want to tell him. I was embarrassed. It's strange-- despite everything we've been through, there are still huge pieces of my sexuality that I hadn't shared with him. But he kept insisting, and so eventually I described it to him. I have a subscription to a website, so he went into the bedroom and hooked up his computer to the giant TV screen mounted on the living room wall.
We watched scenes from a few of the movies interspersed with sex. It was strange for me to share that with him. He was rough with me and hit my face. I liked it. It was just sex, sex, sex... strange sex for hours. His foot was on my face, in my eyes. In between everything, we paused for cigarettes and he for martinis. I felt like something had lurched forward, but I couldn't identify what it was.
At around 4:00 AM and then closer to 5:00 AM, I kept trying to move us into the bedroom. Narc wasn't ready to go. He kept coming up with new reasons for us to have to stay in the living room, smoking and fucking. My eyes were stinging.
Finally, I got him to move.
"I want you to fall asleep with me in your mouth," he said. "Like a pacifier."
"Okay," I agreed.
But he kept getting up out of bed every 20 minutes or so to have another drink. I remember what that feeling is like.
When he finally got into bed for good, the sex got even weirder and freer... He was kissing me so passionately.
"I want to hire a girl to come over here and do ----------- with you," he said.
"Now? What? It's late, Narc!"
I'm glad that held him.
In any case, I guess I won't go into it all. But finally, at nearly 7:00 AM and still exhausted, I was asleep.
This morning my eyes opened just after 11:00 AM. My phone was ringing. It was the doctor about setting up a procedure to fix my complication. I took the call in the other room. I wasn't sure if the spell with Narc was broken.
But when I got back into bed, I saw that it wasn't. He grabbed me around the waist and pulled me in so close. More sex and more sex. More and more and more until it was nearly time for me to leave for therapy.
"I want you in the shower with me," he said.
Things in the shower got stranger still... Like I said, I have no boundaries. (Maybe I'll regret not being more explicit here, but I just CAN'T write about all that right now). He wanted to do things I never knew he was into. How can I just be discovering him now? After over three years? My head was spinning. My eyes were stinging.
He got out of the shower first while I finished up. When I came out, I heard him on the phone with James.
"Yeah, I was at Circa Tabac last night," he said. "Just reading... home not too late."
Again, I was written out of existence. But I didn't care. Instead of hurt, I felt pity-- that he can't be honest with his friends. It's between him and James. It really is none of my business. I felt wasted, spent, used up from the night's events, but strangely calm, at peace, wiser somehow. I doubt it will last, but there it was.
So, at around 1:15, we left together-- he to meet James and I to go to therapy.
Now, the night has fallen again. I'm heading to the Upper East Side tonight to celebrate JBC's birthday. I have to pick up a card before I go. I showered again and dried my hair. My lips are a mulberry color.
I still don't know what I'm feeling except for "okay" and that's okay. It was a weird night-- a moment, something random seized from the universe, something unfolded, something more real. I'll just appreciate it for what it was and move on. This weekend is going to be full of parties.
love,
h
Thursday, September 27, 2007
"Your hair was long when we first met"
Oh man, am I exhausted! I think I'm fighting something off... either that, or allergies have gotten me. My eyes are stinging and it's hard to stay alert.
It hasn't been a bad week, just an "in between" one. I'm listening to a lot of Regina Spektor. It was that damn JC Penny commercial always stuck in my head that started me on this kick...
Today is NDN's birthday. Wishing him a happy one! There are a lot of September birthdays in my family... JBC's was yesterday; my stepdad's was on the 20th; my cousin Jail's is on the 30th; my uncle's was on the 8th. BigSis' friend English just had a birthday...
I'm tired. Did I say that already?
Tuesday night was hard. Brick told me that he's decided to drink again. I tried to reason with him for a little while, but it's really pointless. It just scares me and makes me really, really sad. But I've been talking to Pixie a lot lately-- in fact, we've been spending hours on the phone-- and she helped me re-center afterwards. I called Narc first (God knows why!) and he didn't pick up, so I left an "I'm sad" message.
The next day he sent me a text: Was asleep way early last night, feeling better today?
I thought it was incredibly sweet. Maybe because it was unexpected. It surprised me. (Are my standards too low?) I like being surprised. (What is she singing right now? "You are my sweetest downfall.")
I'm just feeling the weight of change right now. We're all passing into another chapter and then another. It's okay, I suppose. But I can't eat much and it's frustrating me. Sometimes I feel like this is all a dream.
I want to write songs again. Remember when I used to be a songwriter? Probably not... that was long before I kept this blog.
I'm sad about Brick. I'm tired from teaching this morning.
Today I taught the rise of Christianity. That's always a fun class. Some kid told me he likes my class and thinks he wants to be a history major. How about that? I'm an inspiration.
Why do I keep having cravings to get another tattoo? It's like I'm desperate for something permanent.
Being an adult is hard. Taking care of myself is hard. Maintaining my boundaries is hard. Living with ambiguity is hard.
I don't know where anything is anymore, and I'm getting the feeling that it's just how life is...
The cops are still swarming my neighborhood. I can't wait for them to leave. I feel invaded.
(I want to take a nap, but I probably won't.)
Today I bought one of those green "banker's" lamps. My apartment has awful lighting. Once the sun goes down, it's only good for chain smoking and being moody. But I don't even really smoke anymore.
Speaking of smoking (or not smoking), I had a voice lesson yesterday. I'm still really out of shape. It's frustrating.
I wonder what will happen next. This weekend I have parties for JBC and NDN's birthdays. I also have an AA picnic on Saturday and meetings on Sunday... Lots to do. But I'm thinking of someone... of someone... and wondering how to label all of this in my heart and how to be okay with the quiet.
I remember when I used to be so madly in love. When did that change? Everything is so much more "adult." I can't decide whether or not I like it.
love,
h
It hasn't been a bad week, just an "in between" one. I'm listening to a lot of Regina Spektor. It was that damn JC Penny commercial always stuck in my head that started me on this kick...
Today is NDN's birthday. Wishing him a happy one! There are a lot of September birthdays in my family... JBC's was yesterday; my stepdad's was on the 20th; my cousin Jail's is on the 30th; my uncle's was on the 8th. BigSis' friend English just had a birthday...
I'm tired. Did I say that already?
Tuesday night was hard. Brick told me that he's decided to drink again. I tried to reason with him for a little while, but it's really pointless. It just scares me and makes me really, really sad. But I've been talking to Pixie a lot lately-- in fact, we've been spending hours on the phone-- and she helped me re-center afterwards. I called Narc first (God knows why!) and he didn't pick up, so I left an "I'm sad" message.
The next day he sent me a text: Was asleep way early last night, feeling better today?
I thought it was incredibly sweet. Maybe because it was unexpected. It surprised me. (Are my standards too low?) I like being surprised. (What is she singing right now? "You are my sweetest downfall.")
I'm just feeling the weight of change right now. We're all passing into another chapter and then another. It's okay, I suppose. But I can't eat much and it's frustrating me. Sometimes I feel like this is all a dream.
I want to write songs again. Remember when I used to be a songwriter? Probably not... that was long before I kept this blog.
I'm sad about Brick. I'm tired from teaching this morning.
Today I taught the rise of Christianity. That's always a fun class. Some kid told me he likes my class and thinks he wants to be a history major. How about that? I'm an inspiration.
Why do I keep having cravings to get another tattoo? It's like I'm desperate for something permanent.
Being an adult is hard. Taking care of myself is hard. Maintaining my boundaries is hard. Living with ambiguity is hard.
I don't know where anything is anymore, and I'm getting the feeling that it's just how life is...
The cops are still swarming my neighborhood. I can't wait for them to leave. I feel invaded.
(I want to take a nap, but I probably won't.)
Today I bought one of those green "banker's" lamps. My apartment has awful lighting. Once the sun goes down, it's only good for chain smoking and being moody. But I don't even really smoke anymore.
Speaking of smoking (or not smoking), I had a voice lesson yesterday. I'm still really out of shape. It's frustrating.
I wonder what will happen next. This weekend I have parties for JBC and NDN's birthdays. I also have an AA picnic on Saturday and meetings on Sunday... Lots to do. But I'm thinking of someone... of someone... and wondering how to label all of this in my heart and how to be okay with the quiet.
I remember when I used to be so madly in love. When did that change? Everything is so much more "adult." I can't decide whether or not I like it.
love,
h
Monday, September 24, 2007
What's Stopping Us
I'm listening to the soundtrack from Once right now. Meema was raving about it. It's really beautiful. I'll have to find time to go see the movie this week...
I should be at AA right now, but I'm feeling a little dizzy and a little queasy. I threw up not too long ago.
Last night I went to bed at around 1:30 AM. My eyes opened at 6:00 AM. Narc had sent me a text at 2:30 AM. "Come Down," he said. Obviously, I missed the text.
But then, strangely, psychically, another text arrived. He was still awake. So was I. I wrote something back to him. He called me. Red-eyed drunk, but quiet. He tried to initiate phone sex. It wasn't working.
"Why don't you just come down here," he said.
"The sun is coming up," I observed.
"So?"
"Okay."
So, I went.
Narc seems to have a keen sense for when something inside of me is shifting away from him. He turned it on last night. He kissed me passionately. He held me as close to him and as tightly as he could. There were no closed fists last night. Nothing hurt about it... not even the things that usually hurt. I thought I wanted to hurt for him, but I didn't have to.
This morning he kissed me again. (Well, later this morning, I suppose I should say, since I didn't get there in the first place until 7:00 AM!). PopStar had been back to the apartment to clear out the absolute last of her stuff. It felt so much better... as if things can finally breathe. I had left my toothbrush there the week before. It was in the cabinet next to his. Everything is meaningless. Narc told me he was a "tortured artist." I laughed. Ultimately, so did he.
I went to the library this afternoon and met B for a bite to eat. I could hardly eat. Something is off in my body today. But B was in a good mood and is doing some good work on his dissertation. It's so wonderful to see him finally re-motivated about school. It's nice to meet him there. It's nice to remember that we are both students.
My neighborhood has turned into a police state. It was hard to get home. Yep... it's that time of year again-- the UN is in session. The cops are so stressed out that I saw a guy get a ticket for jay-walking. The cops on my corner were wearing their NYPD baseball caps-- just like the one I got two years ago in a blackout-- the one I gave to Brick.
The sky is orange and gold and powdered with blue right now. The sun is setting. I feel at ease. I'm glad to be home right now. I've got to teach in the morning. Even though I don't want to, I have to thank God for anchors.
I've lost track of where things are going now. Just "staring out to sea," I suppose...
love,
h
I should be at AA right now, but I'm feeling a little dizzy and a little queasy. I threw up not too long ago.
Last night I went to bed at around 1:30 AM. My eyes opened at 6:00 AM. Narc had sent me a text at 2:30 AM. "Come Down," he said. Obviously, I missed the text.
But then, strangely, psychically, another text arrived. He was still awake. So was I. I wrote something back to him. He called me. Red-eyed drunk, but quiet. He tried to initiate phone sex. It wasn't working.
"Why don't you just come down here," he said.
"The sun is coming up," I observed.
"So?"
"Okay."
So, I went.
Narc seems to have a keen sense for when something inside of me is shifting away from him. He turned it on last night. He kissed me passionately. He held me as close to him and as tightly as he could. There were no closed fists last night. Nothing hurt about it... not even the things that usually hurt. I thought I wanted to hurt for him, but I didn't have to.
This morning he kissed me again. (Well, later this morning, I suppose I should say, since I didn't get there in the first place until 7:00 AM!). PopStar had been back to the apartment to clear out the absolute last of her stuff. It felt so much better... as if things can finally breathe. I had left my toothbrush there the week before. It was in the cabinet next to his. Everything is meaningless. Narc told me he was a "tortured artist." I laughed. Ultimately, so did he.
I went to the library this afternoon and met B for a bite to eat. I could hardly eat. Something is off in my body today. But B was in a good mood and is doing some good work on his dissertation. It's so wonderful to see him finally re-motivated about school. It's nice to meet him there. It's nice to remember that we are both students.
My neighborhood has turned into a police state. It was hard to get home. Yep... it's that time of year again-- the UN is in session. The cops are so stressed out that I saw a guy get a ticket for jay-walking. The cops on my corner were wearing their NYPD baseball caps-- just like the one I got two years ago in a blackout-- the one I gave to Brick.
The sky is orange and gold and powdered with blue right now. The sun is setting. I feel at ease. I'm glad to be home right now. I've got to teach in the morning. Even though I don't want to, I have to thank God for anchors.
I've lost track of where things are going now. Just "staring out to sea," I suppose...
love,
h
Sunday, September 23, 2007
"I don't think for a moment, boy..."
I'm feeling a little anxious tonight. It's been a long weekend. It seems like the events of last week were a lifetime ago... that day of dumplings and bubble tea...
Before I get to my week, though, I have some news. Do you all remember KHill? I found out that he had a baby in the Spring! I feel like it really is the end of an era. I'm sober. The Stallion has a baby. KHill has a baby... What the fuck is happening...???
Anyway, on Thursday I did what I said I would and finished that incomplete. It's a pretty big deal to me... the first course that I've finished all of the coursework for since Spring 2005! That night I went to AA and then had dinner at Cinema with a new friend afterwards.
On Friday I ate dinner with Hammer and the Alaskan before heading to services for Yom Kippor. It is my third year in a row doing that dinner with Hammer. Services were beautiful. Afterwards I was an insomniac and scrubbed my bathroom to a shine until after 3:00 AM.
On Saturday, I spent a good chunk of time talking to Meema. She's going through a rough patch and needed a friend. That night, NDN and I headed out to Long Island to my Aunt's house to "break the fast" (although I don't think anyone in my family fasted this year!). NDN tried to befriend the man sitting across from us on the train. His name was Nick and he's 10 years sober. I guess we're everywhere!
Later that night NDN and I wandered through Chinatown. I made us follow the same path I walked with Narc on Wednesday. Why? Because I'm fucking crazy. I texted Narc that I was in his neighborhood and he wrote back. But then he dropped our conversation in the middle of an exchange, ignoring my message for five hours, only writing back at 4:00 AM, once it was too late for me to do anything about it. I had so much anxiety that I couldn't sleep and had to pray my way through the night. Meema was over here until nearly 2:30 AM, though, and we attempted to watch Factory Girl.
Today Contessa got married. It was a beautiful ceremony in Central Park (one that moved me to tears!) followed by a formal(ish) lunch at Cafe des Artistes. Overall, a really wonderful wedding. It was nice to get to spend time with GoldenFinch and her husband and BabyBird. And I struck up a good conversation with the guy sitting next to me.
I went to AA tonight and afterwards, out for dinner with the ladies-- Meema, Pixie and StarGazer. We talked and talked and it was good. I felt good afterwards. Not anxious at all.
But it didn't take long after I got home for me to start feeling it again. What is it? Guilt? Change? I hate him.
Anyway, there's a lot more swirling around inside of me... a lot more to say. But I just don't have it in me to say it right now. I'm too busy listening to Laura Branigan sing "I'm over you."
(Just don't tell yourself I'm still in love with you).
um... yeah.
PS: Did anyone else watch Kid Nation? That is one fucking strange show!
love,
h
Before I get to my week, though, I have some news. Do you all remember KHill? I found out that he had a baby in the Spring! I feel like it really is the end of an era. I'm sober. The Stallion has a baby. KHill has a baby... What the fuck is happening...???
Anyway, on Thursday I did what I said I would and finished that incomplete. It's a pretty big deal to me... the first course that I've finished all of the coursework for since Spring 2005! That night I went to AA and then had dinner at Cinema with a new friend afterwards.
On Friday I ate dinner with Hammer and the Alaskan before heading to services for Yom Kippor. It is my third year in a row doing that dinner with Hammer. Services were beautiful. Afterwards I was an insomniac and scrubbed my bathroom to a shine until after 3:00 AM.
On Saturday, I spent a good chunk of time talking to Meema. She's going through a rough patch and needed a friend. That night, NDN and I headed out to Long Island to my Aunt's house to "break the fast" (although I don't think anyone in my family fasted this year!). NDN tried to befriend the man sitting across from us on the train. His name was Nick and he's 10 years sober. I guess we're everywhere!
Later that night NDN and I wandered through Chinatown. I made us follow the same path I walked with Narc on Wednesday. Why? Because I'm fucking crazy. I texted Narc that I was in his neighborhood and he wrote back. But then he dropped our conversation in the middle of an exchange, ignoring my message for five hours, only writing back at 4:00 AM, once it was too late for me to do anything about it. I had so much anxiety that I couldn't sleep and had to pray my way through the night. Meema was over here until nearly 2:30 AM, though, and we attempted to watch Factory Girl.
Today Contessa got married. It was a beautiful ceremony in Central Park (one that moved me to tears!) followed by a formal(ish) lunch at Cafe des Artistes. Overall, a really wonderful wedding. It was nice to get to spend time with GoldenFinch and her husband and BabyBird. And I struck up a good conversation with the guy sitting next to me.
I went to AA tonight and afterwards, out for dinner with the ladies-- Meema, Pixie and StarGazer. We talked and talked and it was good. I felt good afterwards. Not anxious at all.
But it didn't take long after I got home for me to start feeling it again. What is it? Guilt? Change? I hate him.
Anyway, there's a lot more swirling around inside of me... a lot more to say. But I just don't have it in me to say it right now. I'm too busy listening to Laura Branigan sing "I'm over you."
(Just don't tell yourself I'm still in love with you).
um... yeah.
PS: Did anyone else watch Kid Nation? That is one fucking strange show!
love,
h
Wednesday, September 19, 2007
One Down! (Almost...)
Strange... I slept at Narc's again last night. (I am flooded with Narc!) I blew off my work this morning to have dumplings with him at Joe's Shanghai and then bubble tea...
But then I salvaged the day, went to a voice lesson and actually came to the library tonight and drafted the first of my incompletes!! My plan is to get this one finished by tomorrow afternoon.
I'll be back when I have more time to write and more time to self-obsess. For now, my mind is on the British Union of Fascists.
love,
h
But then I salvaged the day, went to a voice lesson and actually came to the library tonight and drafted the first of my incompletes!! My plan is to get this one finished by tomorrow afternoon.
I'll be back when I have more time to write and more time to self-obsess. For now, my mind is on the British Union of Fascists.
love,
h
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
Time Means Nothing to This Man (Part II)
So... I left you just as I was arriving at Narc's place on Saturday night.
When he opened the door, his face was lit up. It was a Narc I haven't seen in a long, long time. His face seemed swollen (in that alcohol-swollen way) and more open somehow. He was smiling. He had on black pants and a black shirt that was open leaving his chest hair and his gut exposed. He smelled sweet-- a mixture of dark liquor and cigarettes. His eyes seemed wider apart, somehow, and they were red... purely bloodshot and red. I missed him so much.
"Hey, Hyde!" he smiled. "I was just... I was just looking at some pictures."
Narc has a gorgeous, enormous TV mounted on his wall. He had hooked up his laptop to the TV and it was randomly flipping through his photos, so that they were coming up, projected larger than life. The soundtrack was something New Age-- Brian Eno, maybe? It was strange. He was burning incense and smoking cigarettes. Everything through a veil of smoke and smells seemed surreal.
He went to stand near the window, leaning his back against the wall. His face darkened.
"I had a great night," I said. "It was so much fun."
"At least one of us did."
"Why? What were you up to?" I asked.
He told me about some party he had been at with ModelChick and his friend Laurie. He got stuck talking to some woman he didn't want to talk to.
"All of these gorgeous women in their mid to late 30's," he said. "All of them so desperate, but not willing to settle for anyone not rolling in cash. They're all going to end up alone. All they want is money, and all they do is end up fucking 'the Snake.'"
"The 'Snake?'"
"Yes... James, or someone like him... Until the time comes when they don't want the Snake anymore and the Snake doesn't want to fuck them either, but it's too late and they're alone and desperate."
"That sounds pretty depressing, Narc," I said.
"That's what happens to single women in NY."
"That's not going to happen to me."
"No?"
"No. Wait and see... I'll invite you to my wedding," I laughed.
"I'm sure you will, Hyde," he slurred with a smile.
That was the theme of the night, it seemed-- gorgeous women who wouldn't settle for "nice guys" like Narc, but instead got charmed by "hot guys" or "rich guys" (like James?) and then complained about it into their 40's. I had a feeling that I had walked in on a "pity party" in progress.
Narc started to tell me how one of these gorgeous "older" women was in love with her friend and pined for him for two years only to be told that he wouldn't marry her because she "wasn't Jewish." He then told me how he had once hooked up with his friend Robin, and even though he wasn't interested in her, when he called her to make sure she knew he wasn't interested, she said she wasn't interested either because he "wasn't Jewish." I was praying, praying, praying that Narc wouldn't turn Anti-Semitic on me. Thank God it stopped there, because I'm not sure what I would have said or done if he had...
Narc went on about "the snake."
"You're no different, Hyde," he insisted. "You want the snake too. You're not interested in nice guys who are interested in you!"
(This conversation was taking an interesting turn...)
Occasionally pictures of PopStar came up on the screen, mixed in with his other photos. Narc doesn't call her "PopStar" anymore. Now he just refers to her as "the Russian." Every time she came up, he rolled his eyes.
"Get that Russian off my TV," he would say.
It was all very strange.
After a prolonged chain smoke, he came to lay down on the couch. Still, with that familiar sweet smell. I put my head on his stomach, like a cushion. I felt like I loved him. I'm so much more comfortable with drunk-Narc. I really do miss him. He looked down at me with those red eyes. A picture of his first girlfriend came up on the screen.
"That's M," he said.
"I know who that is," I smiled. "I know who all your girlfriends are."
"Oh really?" he raised an eyebrow.
"Of course," I said. "Do you want me to name them?"
I went through all of them.
"Very good," he said. His smile seemed half flattered and half uncomfortable.
"Well, I pay attention," I said, burrowing back down into his stomach.
Narc was pointing out the details, people, places and things in all of his photos.
"But you probably don't care!" he exclaimed at some point. "Why would you care about these photos? I wouldn't care if I were looking at someone else's photos."
"Well, you and I are different people," I said. "Of course I care. I love learning stuff about you. I love seeing your past."
He didn't answer, but instead, sort of grunted in a condescending way, as if he knew I would say that. I didn't care.
"I'm just feeling a little nostalgic tonight," he said, with a sudden change of tone.
Narc started to tell me that he had fallen in love with Darryl Hannah in Splash when he was a little kid.
"It's the first woman I was in love with," he explained. "I used to think I had a thing for blonds," he went on, "but I don't. It's not about blonds. It's all Jungian archetypes. And I'm just looking for my mother... a somewhat ditsy blond who's not interested in me."
"That's what you want?" I laughed. "I get it. I'm the same way. I'm always looking for withholding guy who drinks too much. There's nothing like an unavailable alcoholic."
Narc looked at me with a smile when I said that.
"It's crazy how much your childhood stuff can fuck you up," I said.
He had a strange glint in his eye.
"It's fucked up," I just kept talking. "It's so ridiculous. You're so much better than that, Narc! You really want a ditsy blond? It's like a joke."
"Now it's the pot calling the kettle black," he said.
It was a strange moment. But it was open. The channels were open again. Open, open, open! ("What every man needs is air, air, air!" Dostoevsky said something like that...) The openness of it all...
It was cold in his bedroom that night and he cuddled me close without a guard. He was tired though.
I wanted to be with him on Sunday morning. I wanted that connection to still be there. But the sun was up and the spell was broken and he was asleep like a rock. I woke up an hour or two before him and stayed silent in bed, wanting to have sex with him, but not wanting to wake him or bother him. So, I did nothing. Instead, I squinted to read the titles of all the books stacked up against the wall. I had to meet my sister in midtown at 1:30. I would have to be out of there by 1:00.
He didn't wake up until I had given up and consigned myself to getting dressed.
"Where are you going?" he asked.
"To take a knitting class with my sister," I said, pulling on my shirt.
He tugged me back into bed. I had only ten minutes.
"Enough time," he said.
I gave him a blow job.
"On that note, I have to go."
I gave him a kiss on the cheek and scurried out the door.
BigSis and I have both been talking about wanting to learn how to knit for a while. I finally took the initiative and found us a teacher on CraigsList. We met in a Starbucks in midtown and sat for two hours, emerging with fuzzy green patches that looked like knit pickles, or "nose-warmers," as BigSis suggested. I sent a picture of my scrap to Narc. He wrote back that I'd be making a scarf in no time. I felt close to him again. Something had shifted. (At least in my perception...)
After that, I went home, showered, changed and headed off to AA for the 7:00 PM meeting. I hadn't been to an AA meeting since Tuesday. It was really no good. I lost the thread, and perhaps was going a little mad. Perhaps that explains my disorientation. In any case, it was a good meeting, but my head wasn't in the game. I was restless and wanted to get out of there.
On the way out, Pixie and I got to talking. Then we got to walking. I walked her all the way to the subway at Union Square and we talked and talked and talked... It was one of those awesome conversations that happens when you're getting to know someone and making a real spiritual connection-- when you realize that you think in a philosophically similar way and can show each other new things about the world. I love when friendships like that are being born.
On Monday I slept in, as I was feeling a little run down. I was frustrated to find that I have another UTI-- the second one this month. After watching Rock of Love, I did get my act together in time to meet B at school for lunch. We ate in the school cafe and just chatted and caught up. He is finally motivated on his dissertation and is feeling really good about himself because of it. It's wonderful to see. Afterwards, I went to the library for a while and then over to the gynecologist to get some antibiotics. Meanwhile, Narc and I texted back and forth for a little while about Rock of Love and our shared love of really lame TV. Hmm... he was still strangely present.
Later in the afternoon, I caught up with VJ on the phone and then headed off to my Monday night meditation meeting. There were some newcomers there and I got to talk to a few of them. Given that I've been feeling "out of the loop" with AA this week, it was nice to "be of service" again. I was tired and wanted to head home afterwards, but Pixie convinced me to go out to the watch. It was nice because I got to see my "sober sister" Leseco there. I haven't seen her around in a while.
When I got home (around 11:00 PM) I plopped on top of my bed and watched more bad VH1 reality TV-- this time The Pick Up Artist. Narc wrote.
Ugh... Why oh why did I order that Domino's pizza? (groan)
It was as good as an invitation.
We wrote back and forth for a little while. I fished for a more direct invite and got one. And so, at around 12:30 AM I headed down there yet again.
It was again, pretty standard. We watched the end of Californication. Narc was in a towel. We chatted and then went to bed. I had a strange dream last night that he was marrying the Exhibitionist. Pixie was in my dream. Narc told her that I was pregnant. Maybe I was again in my dream. The dream passed though, at some point in the middle of my sleep. And then I don't remember anything for the rest of the night.
This morning we slept in until after 11:00 AM. It was a long sleep. We woke up to the sound of my phone ringing in the other room. (I later checked the message. It was Brick from LA). Narc got up to check his email.
"The building turned the water off today," he said, "so, no showers..."
My face was still buried in the pillow.
While he was on the computer, his phone rang. It was James. He picked it up.
"Lunch? Sure," he said. "BG? Yeah, that sounds good. I just got up. I slept ten hours last night or so. No, I didn't go out. Um... I can be there in about twenty minutes or so... Ok. See you there."
I shouldn't be surprised that he didn't mention me to James. I shouldn't be surprised that he made plans to have lunch with James in 20 minutes and didn't invite me. I shouldn't be surprised at all. He has been entirely consistent for the past three years and three months... It used to hurt a lot. I used to rail against such "negation." But it doesn't hurt nearly as badly anymore. I don't expect what I used to expect. It's almost strangely amusing. I can finally see "my part." If I don't want to be with someone who treats me like that, I don't have to keep coming around. It's entirely up to me.
Twenty minutes to the Blue Goose... I'd have no time to get ready. But Narc climbed back on top of me and hugged me from behind. We used whatever was left of the 20 minutes to have sex. Then I had to throw my clothes on, scarf down my vitamins and go.
He walked me to the corner where I got a cab. I talked to Bezoukhoff and then Brick on the phone in the cab. Bezoukhoff pleaded that I return to The Brothers Karamazov. I agreed. The weather is gorgeous today-- 60-degrees or so. I think I'm going to go do some work on the roof...
My final word on Narc? He disappears for days, weeks, months... Days mean nothing. Weeks blend into weekends. Night blends into morning. He disappears and then he returns. It means nothing. It means nothing. It means nothing. Nothing ever changes. I have nothing to be anxious about.
Time means nothing to this man.
I need to go do some school work. I need to go feel some fresh air.
-h-
"You ought to thank God, perhaps. How do you know? Perhaps God is saving you for something. But keep a good heart and have less fear! Are you afraid of the great expiation before you? No, it would be shameful to be afraid of it. Since you have taken such a step, you must harden your heart. There is justice in it. You must fulfill the demands of justice. I know that you don't believe it, but indeed, life will bring you through. You will live it down in time. What you need now is fresh air, fresh air, fresh air!"
When he opened the door, his face was lit up. It was a Narc I haven't seen in a long, long time. His face seemed swollen (in that alcohol-swollen way) and more open somehow. He was smiling. He had on black pants and a black shirt that was open leaving his chest hair and his gut exposed. He smelled sweet-- a mixture of dark liquor and cigarettes. His eyes seemed wider apart, somehow, and they were red... purely bloodshot and red. I missed him so much.
"Hey, Hyde!" he smiled. "I was just... I was just looking at some pictures."
Narc has a gorgeous, enormous TV mounted on his wall. He had hooked up his laptop to the TV and it was randomly flipping through his photos, so that they were coming up, projected larger than life. The soundtrack was something New Age-- Brian Eno, maybe? It was strange. He was burning incense and smoking cigarettes. Everything through a veil of smoke and smells seemed surreal.
He went to stand near the window, leaning his back against the wall. His face darkened.
"I had a great night," I said. "It was so much fun."
"At least one of us did."
"Why? What were you up to?" I asked.
He told me about some party he had been at with ModelChick and his friend Laurie. He got stuck talking to some woman he didn't want to talk to.
"All of these gorgeous women in their mid to late 30's," he said. "All of them so desperate, but not willing to settle for anyone not rolling in cash. They're all going to end up alone. All they want is money, and all they do is end up fucking 'the Snake.'"
"The 'Snake?'"
"Yes... James, or someone like him... Until the time comes when they don't want the Snake anymore and the Snake doesn't want to fuck them either, but it's too late and they're alone and desperate."
"That sounds pretty depressing, Narc," I said.
"That's what happens to single women in NY."
"That's not going to happen to me."
"No?"
"No. Wait and see... I'll invite you to my wedding," I laughed.
"I'm sure you will, Hyde," he slurred with a smile.
That was the theme of the night, it seemed-- gorgeous women who wouldn't settle for "nice guys" like Narc, but instead got charmed by "hot guys" or "rich guys" (like James?) and then complained about it into their 40's. I had a feeling that I had walked in on a "pity party" in progress.
Narc started to tell me how one of these gorgeous "older" women was in love with her friend and pined for him for two years only to be told that he wouldn't marry her because she "wasn't Jewish." He then told me how he had once hooked up with his friend Robin, and even though he wasn't interested in her, when he called her to make sure she knew he wasn't interested, she said she wasn't interested either because he "wasn't Jewish." I was praying, praying, praying that Narc wouldn't turn Anti-Semitic on me. Thank God it stopped there, because I'm not sure what I would have said or done if he had...
Narc went on about "the snake."
"You're no different, Hyde," he insisted. "You want the snake too. You're not interested in nice guys who are interested in you!"
(This conversation was taking an interesting turn...)
Occasionally pictures of PopStar came up on the screen, mixed in with his other photos. Narc doesn't call her "PopStar" anymore. Now he just refers to her as "the Russian." Every time she came up, he rolled his eyes.
"Get that Russian off my TV," he would say.
It was all very strange.
After a prolonged chain smoke, he came to lay down on the couch. Still, with that familiar sweet smell. I put my head on his stomach, like a cushion. I felt like I loved him. I'm so much more comfortable with drunk-Narc. I really do miss him. He looked down at me with those red eyes. A picture of his first girlfriend came up on the screen.
"That's M," he said.
"I know who that is," I smiled. "I know who all your girlfriends are."
"Oh really?" he raised an eyebrow.
"Of course," I said. "Do you want me to name them?"
I went through all of them.
"Very good," he said. His smile seemed half flattered and half uncomfortable.
"Well, I pay attention," I said, burrowing back down into his stomach.
Narc was pointing out the details, people, places and things in all of his photos.
"But you probably don't care!" he exclaimed at some point. "Why would you care about these photos? I wouldn't care if I were looking at someone else's photos."
"Well, you and I are different people," I said. "Of course I care. I love learning stuff about you. I love seeing your past."
He didn't answer, but instead, sort of grunted in a condescending way, as if he knew I would say that. I didn't care.
"I'm just feeling a little nostalgic tonight," he said, with a sudden change of tone.
Narc started to tell me that he had fallen in love with Darryl Hannah in Splash when he was a little kid.
"It's the first woman I was in love with," he explained. "I used to think I had a thing for blonds," he went on, "but I don't. It's not about blonds. It's all Jungian archetypes. And I'm just looking for my mother... a somewhat ditsy blond who's not interested in me."
"That's what you want?" I laughed. "I get it. I'm the same way. I'm always looking for withholding guy who drinks too much. There's nothing like an unavailable alcoholic."
Narc looked at me with a smile when I said that.
"It's crazy how much your childhood stuff can fuck you up," I said.
He had a strange glint in his eye.
"It's fucked up," I just kept talking. "It's so ridiculous. You're so much better than that, Narc! You really want a ditsy blond? It's like a joke."
"Now it's the pot calling the kettle black," he said.
It was a strange moment. But it was open. The channels were open again. Open, open, open! ("What every man needs is air, air, air!" Dostoevsky said something like that...) The openness of it all...
It was cold in his bedroom that night and he cuddled me close without a guard. He was tired though.
I wanted to be with him on Sunday morning. I wanted that connection to still be there. But the sun was up and the spell was broken and he was asleep like a rock. I woke up an hour or two before him and stayed silent in bed, wanting to have sex with him, but not wanting to wake him or bother him. So, I did nothing. Instead, I squinted to read the titles of all the books stacked up against the wall. I had to meet my sister in midtown at 1:30. I would have to be out of there by 1:00.
He didn't wake up until I had given up and consigned myself to getting dressed.
"Where are you going?" he asked.
"To take a knitting class with my sister," I said, pulling on my shirt.
He tugged me back into bed. I had only ten minutes.
"Enough time," he said.
I gave him a blow job.
"On that note, I have to go."
I gave him a kiss on the cheek and scurried out the door.
BigSis and I have both been talking about wanting to learn how to knit for a while. I finally took the initiative and found us a teacher on CraigsList. We met in a Starbucks in midtown and sat for two hours, emerging with fuzzy green patches that looked like knit pickles, or "nose-warmers," as BigSis suggested. I sent a picture of my scrap to Narc. He wrote back that I'd be making a scarf in no time. I felt close to him again. Something had shifted. (At least in my perception...)
After that, I went home, showered, changed and headed off to AA for the 7:00 PM meeting. I hadn't been to an AA meeting since Tuesday. It was really no good. I lost the thread, and perhaps was going a little mad. Perhaps that explains my disorientation. In any case, it was a good meeting, but my head wasn't in the game. I was restless and wanted to get out of there.
On the way out, Pixie and I got to talking. Then we got to walking. I walked her all the way to the subway at Union Square and we talked and talked and talked... It was one of those awesome conversations that happens when you're getting to know someone and making a real spiritual connection-- when you realize that you think in a philosophically similar way and can show each other new things about the world. I love when friendships like that are being born.
On Monday I slept in, as I was feeling a little run down. I was frustrated to find that I have another UTI-- the second one this month. After watching Rock of Love, I did get my act together in time to meet B at school for lunch. We ate in the school cafe and just chatted and caught up. He is finally motivated on his dissertation and is feeling really good about himself because of it. It's wonderful to see. Afterwards, I went to the library for a while and then over to the gynecologist to get some antibiotics. Meanwhile, Narc and I texted back and forth for a little while about Rock of Love and our shared love of really lame TV. Hmm... he was still strangely present.
Later in the afternoon, I caught up with VJ on the phone and then headed off to my Monday night meditation meeting. There were some newcomers there and I got to talk to a few of them. Given that I've been feeling "out of the loop" with AA this week, it was nice to "be of service" again. I was tired and wanted to head home afterwards, but Pixie convinced me to go out to the watch. It was nice because I got to see my "sober sister" Leseco there. I haven't seen her around in a while.
When I got home (around 11:00 PM) I plopped on top of my bed and watched more bad VH1 reality TV-- this time The Pick Up Artist. Narc wrote.
Ugh... Why oh why did I order that Domino's pizza? (groan)
It was as good as an invitation.
We wrote back and forth for a little while. I fished for a more direct invite and got one. And so, at around 12:30 AM I headed down there yet again.
It was again, pretty standard. We watched the end of Californication. Narc was in a towel. We chatted and then went to bed. I had a strange dream last night that he was marrying the Exhibitionist. Pixie was in my dream. Narc told her that I was pregnant. Maybe I was again in my dream. The dream passed though, at some point in the middle of my sleep. And then I don't remember anything for the rest of the night.
This morning we slept in until after 11:00 AM. It was a long sleep. We woke up to the sound of my phone ringing in the other room. (I later checked the message. It was Brick from LA). Narc got up to check his email.
"The building turned the water off today," he said, "so, no showers..."
My face was still buried in the pillow.
While he was on the computer, his phone rang. It was James. He picked it up.
"Lunch? Sure," he said. "BG? Yeah, that sounds good. I just got up. I slept ten hours last night or so. No, I didn't go out. Um... I can be there in about twenty minutes or so... Ok. See you there."
I shouldn't be surprised that he didn't mention me to James. I shouldn't be surprised that he made plans to have lunch with James in 20 minutes and didn't invite me. I shouldn't be surprised at all. He has been entirely consistent for the past three years and three months... It used to hurt a lot. I used to rail against such "negation." But it doesn't hurt nearly as badly anymore. I don't expect what I used to expect. It's almost strangely amusing. I can finally see "my part." If I don't want to be with someone who treats me like that, I don't have to keep coming around. It's entirely up to me.
Twenty minutes to the Blue Goose... I'd have no time to get ready. But Narc climbed back on top of me and hugged me from behind. We used whatever was left of the 20 minutes to have sex. Then I had to throw my clothes on, scarf down my vitamins and go.
He walked me to the corner where I got a cab. I talked to Bezoukhoff and then Brick on the phone in the cab. Bezoukhoff pleaded that I return to The Brothers Karamazov. I agreed. The weather is gorgeous today-- 60-degrees or so. I think I'm going to go do some work on the roof...
My final word on Narc? He disappears for days, weeks, months... Days mean nothing. Weeks blend into weekends. Night blends into morning. He disappears and then he returns. It means nothing. It means nothing. It means nothing. Nothing ever changes. I have nothing to be anxious about.
Time means nothing to this man.
I need to go do some school work. I need to go feel some fresh air.
-h-
"You ought to thank God, perhaps. How do you know? Perhaps God is saving you for something. But keep a good heart and have less fear! Are you afraid of the great expiation before you? No, it would be shameful to be afraid of it. Since you have taken such a step, you must harden your heart. There is justice in it. You must fulfill the demands of justice. I know that you don't believe it, but indeed, life will bring you through. You will live it down in time. What you need now is fresh air, fresh air, fresh air!"
Monday, September 17, 2007
Time Means Nothing to This Man (Part I)
It's been a strange week-- one full of nuanced internal shifts, but all positive (I think, I hope...). I was feeling pretty down on myself early in the week-- mostly confused about what I'm doing with Narc, what I expect to happen, what I want from him, what I expect from myself... But Rosh Hashana helped with a lot of that. (Maybe...)
I didn't have anyone to go to services with, even though Hammer gave me her ticket before taking off for Arizona last weekend. And I didn't really want to go alone. So, I laid around for most of Wednesday procrastinating, feeling sorry for myself, convincing myself that I was in a rut that I would never climb out of. I also felt pretty sick that day which didn't help. I contemplated not going to services at all. But I'm glad that I did because it was just what I needed.
I didn't have anyone to go to services with, even though Hammer gave me her ticket before taking off for Arizona last weekend. And I didn't really want to go alone. So, I laid around for most of Wednesday procrastinating, feeling sorry for myself, convincing myself that I was in a rut that I would never climb out of. I also felt pretty sick that day which didn't help. I contemplated not going to services at all. But I'm glad that I did because it was just what I needed.
The service was absolutely beautiful and I felt very close to "God" and back in perspective. After all, despite the fact that I catalogue my life on the blog and despite the fact that I'm a so-called "legend in my own mind," it's not all about me. This year is the centenary of Abraham Joshua Heschel and the synagogue included some readings from some of his works. Afterwards, I was compelled to read more. So, I strolled to the Barnes & Noble on 82nd Street on the Upper West Side and bought his A Passion for Truth, the last book that he wrote. When I got home that night, I felt good, whole, cozy and comfortable reading and reflecting in my own bed. If that's not a miracle, I don't know what is... It also gave me some really helpful insight about how I had been thinking about and handling my feelings for Narc. I have been beating myself up too much. And like I said, I'd like to write a post at some point exploring those issues a little more.
On Thursday it was off to my parents house to celebrate the holiday. BigSis and I met up on the train and got there early to help my mom prepare the meal. It was the first time I had seen my parents since their recent trip to Italy and the first time I had seen LilSis or JBC since they got back from their honeymoon. LilSis got home from work that day all dressed up in a suit and high heels. It was the cutest thing ever. NDN came out for dinner, as did Anxious, along with my mom's sister and her husband, my cousin Jail, and all of Bro-in-Law's family. It was a nice, mellow evening (aside from a few minor irritations between me and NDN) and overall, a good way to start the New Year.
And then came Friday... I had therapy on Friday afternoon and really needed it. I really needed it. Like I said, a lot has been shifting around on my "mental map" lately and I was able to articulate some of that in the session. I think that the holiday coming when it did illuminated something for me-- something that I've always known, but often forget. I seem to have a hard-wired need to worship. It's not very "modern," but I can't get around it. I need to worship. I always mistakenly transfer it onto objects that can not sustain worship (or people... I think we all know who I'm talking about!). But the need itself is not necessarily a "sick" one if it can be properly directed. I think my therapist has been working with mistaken assumptions (or conclusions) about me-- that I like humiliation, or that my masochism is linked to humiliation. It's not about humiliation at all. It's spiritual and powerful and religious and I have no fucking clue what to do with it.
Anyway, all of that is kind of a side note and I'm not in the right frame of mind to explore it any further right now. The point is, it's the anxiety around being out of control that makes me sick with Narc. My therapist told me to write something down on a card and carry it with me-- "Time means nothing to this man."
On Friday night, I had plans to meet up with NDN for dinner or a hangout or whatever... He came by at around 6:30 and had some work to do. I had to clean my house. So, he did his work and I cleaned and we listened to depressing music. Oh-- and we got into a fight. I won't go into the details, because I know NDN wouldn't want me to write about it all here, but there were some things that I had to say and I'm glad that I finally said them.
NDN left my place at around 11:00. I was tired too, and thought I would be going to sleep. But I had texted Narc earlier that night and (much to my surprise) he wrote back. He was home...watching Bill Mahr... drinking a martini...he invited me over. I was just out of the shower and had to dry my hair. I did it as fast as I could. Of course, I accepted his invitation.
There's not much for me to say about that visit on Friday night. It was what has become "standard." We watched some TV-- a Steven Segal movie... Narc was really excited about the part where the guy asks "Why did Richie kill Bobby Lupo?"
On Saturday morning we had really beautiful sex. It was nice, nice, nice. I almost felt what I used to feel. I almost felt in love again. (Imagine that... all the pain of the past, and now THAT'S the feeling I'm chasing!)
In any case, I wish I could have extended that morning, but I had to run off to meet Contessa and her friends for the start of her "bachelorette" festivities.
There's not much for me to say about that visit on Friday night. It was what has become "standard." We watched some TV-- a Steven Segal movie... Narc was really excited about the part where the guy asks "Why did Richie kill Bobby Lupo?"
On Saturday morning we had really beautiful sex. It was nice, nice, nice. I almost felt what I used to feel. I almost felt in love again. (Imagine that... all the pain of the past, and now THAT'S the feeling I'm chasing!)
In any case, I wish I could have extended that morning, but I had to run off to meet Contessa and her friends for the start of her "bachelorette" festivities.
I suppose I'm lucky that my good friends from college were definitely not a drinking crowd, and that nobody was interested in the kind of raunchy bachelorette festivities I would have chosen to avoid.
Our first order of the day was to meet for massages. As good as a massage feels, I'm always a little uncomfortable with a stranger I can't see touching me. God damn trust issues... I got to the neighborhood a little early and peeked into Loehmann's which was a zoo. Then I turned the corner, only to find Contessa and GoldenFinch chatting outside the massage place. It was weird to see them there, so natural on a city corner, as if no time had passed at all from the days when all of us hung out up at Columbia. We waited for a while until another Columbia friend (Jenabe, the "maid of honor") and two others I didn't know found their way to the spa and then we headed in for our massages.
Overall, it was a really nice afternoon. After the massages we strolled over to Chelsea Market (which made me think of Brick!) and then went on a long walk straight across town to a Spanish place-- la Paella-- on East 9th Street. We walked down Hudson past Bar and Books, and around on Bleeker (which reminded me of an awful coke night). The city streets are full of so many memories... layers and layers of memories. I was suddenly filled with the urge to map them all out.
The restaurant wasn't exactly the easiest thing for me, as I'm still not eating "normally" and obviously not indulging in the sangria. The strangest part was watching those girls have two or three glasses of sangria and stop. I can't imagine stopping like that. I can't fucking imagine it. Contessa recounted her romantic history for us, all the way from her high school boyfriend up to her fiancee. Afterwards, GoldenFinch and another friend headed home and the rest of us walked over to the Comedy Cellar on MacDougal and 3rd.
I'm usually not such a big fan of comedy clubs, but this time I genuinely laughed. The best part were the surprise guests. Colin Quinn was there, and then, out of nowhere, they announced that Robin Williams had stopped in and was going to do a set! He was hysterical. He said he was back making a "9th step amends." Whether or not it was true, it was kind of strange that he said that, right?
I was feeling a little jacked up on caffeine at that point. (Caffeine used to have no impact on me except to stabilize me, but I haven't had it in a month and my surgery has left me much more sensitive to its effects). With all of that energy, we headed over to Marie's Crisis.
The place that Jenabe picked was in the Times Square area. It was kind of lame. It was an audience participation/live music show with a mixed crowd there who looked like they belonged at a wedding-- young people, old people, slutty brides-to-be, tourists, a hip-hop crew, it was strange. But Contessa seemed to like it, so I ordered a few more diet cokes and put on a smile. At some point, Contessa, noticed for her "bachelorette" status, got called up to the stage where a gaggle of guys serenaded her. I was glad I stayed for that part, but at around 1:30, I told the girls it was time for me to head home. I had drank my fair share of diet cokes by that point and remarkably, my heart was starting to flutter and I felt anxious. It was almost a light "coke" feeling, but not... I'm telling you, I have always been impervious to caffeine, so this was really quite unexpected. I would have gone home... (I should have gone home?)... but something in my brain said "no." So, I went back down to Marie's, by myself, at 2:00 AM.
I don't know what the fuck I was doing.
I had a great time there, though. The pianist told me he remembered me from several times that I've been there. Somehow, something came up and I told him that I'm "sober" and he told me that he is too. Then he winked at me and asked if I wanted to sing "I have a love" from West Side Story. Of course, I agreed. He thumped on the piano and hushed the room for me. Even with dry mouth and a palpitating heart, it sounded good. I love doing that stuff.
This was a pretty awesome night. The icing on the awesome cake? Shortly after I finished the song, my phone rang. It was Narc and he was drunk! Wasn't I just saying I missed "drunk-Narc?" I felt giddy and strong. I took the call. He was surprised that I was out at a bar in the village by myself. I told him I would be right over. I still hadn't been home since I had left Narc's place that morning. But, I was happy. Pieces of "Hyde" were awakened, but I was still sober...
Anyway, I'll leave this post to be continued in a part II...
Anyway, I'll leave this post to be continued in a part II...
Sunday, September 16, 2007
I'll be back...
Wow. It's been a while since I've posted. I had a busy weekend, but a great one... A lot to say. The first chill of the season is in the air tonight. It's almost frosty outside even though it's supposed to warm up again by the week's end. I will be back tomorrow with a much longer post. I need to go get some sleep tonight. My head barely hit the pillow last night...
lots of love,
h
lots of love,
h
Tuesday, September 11, 2007
Running the Show
I am exhausted today. Exhausted, exhausted, exhausted beyond belief! No doubt because it was an incredibly long day. This was the first September 11th that went relatively unmarked for me, and I have mixed feelings about that.
In any case, let me backtrack a little, back to Sunday night...
When I got back from AlAnon, I sang in my apartment-- something I haven't done in a considerably long time (mostly because real singing had been difficult post-surgery). But it felt good to sing again. I sang Elsa's Dream from Lohengrin and felt myself sinking into my throat in a delicious way. It's a real high for me and one of the only ones I'm still allowed. So, I called to make an appointment for a voice lesson next week.
NDN came up to my place at around 6:45. He has been really depressed and anxious lately and needed to talk about a lot of that stuff. So, we laid around on my couches for a while and then headed down to his place to sample some of the Russian salads he brought back from Brighton Beach. After we ate, we laid around on his couch and talked for a while longer. But Narc and I had been texting. And I wanted to go see him.
So, I did.
I got to his place at around 11:00. I felt guilty that I had my period. I felt guilty for feeling guilty about that. He looked tired. There were at least seven or eight finished bottles of wine and champagne and scores of beer bottles laying around. Narc explained it away by saying that it's all because of James. James is the wild and crazy one. Narc even laughingly suggested that he needs to go to "James Anonymous." (Alcohol is never the problem.)
We watched some TV and I gave him some blow jobs. I don't feel like reliving it right now, although I gave StarGazer all of the juicy details. (Choiceless choices... in your ass or in your mouth?) I can't pretend to hate it though, because we all know that I love it or I wouldn't be going back for more. Whatever... I stayed on my knees for a long, long time and watched TV with my neck twisted around and my head on his lap. Only once did I have a second thought. I brushed it away as quickly as it came.
I am always grateful to be there.
We got into bed. I told Narc that I went to an AlAnon meeting.
"Why?" he asked. "Isn't that for people with a problem alcoholic in their life?"
"Um... yeah, or people who grew up with problem drinkers," I said. "My therapist thought it would be a good idea."
He cuddled me close when we went to sleep, but it was hot in the room. I kept looking up at his face and wondering what I was doing there. I never see him drunk anymore. I miss drunk Narc. He makes more sense to me that way. It all does.
Narc couldn't sleep. He must have gotten up five or six times in the night and finally turned the air conditioner on. My alarm went off at 10:00 AM with a twinge of guilt. I didn't want to wake him up, but I had an appointment to pray with StarGazer. I went into the bathroom and whispered my prayers. I forgot to bring the prayer book, so she had to read those parts. Afterwards, I crawled back into bed with him. More blow jobs for him. Then I put my head on his chest and it was all okay and strangely normal.
We got out of bed at around Noon. I had to go home to shower and pick up B's contact lenses (which he had delivered to my apartment) before meeting him at school at 3:00 PM. Narc took his book (he's re-reading "Shogun") and decided to head for a cafe. He said he still needed another day to "recover" so he couldn't do any real work.
When we got into the elevator, I was startled to see the Sorceress-- Narc's neighbor who was there through the whole ordeal when he almost died last Fall. (I wrote about her in the first few posts of December '06).
"Hi!" I said, half embarrassed. (In case you forgot, she's the one who told me that Narc called me a "fuck buddy" and gave me a long talking-to about how I deserve better and was being abused).
"Hi," she smiled, wryly.
I could feel her judging me.
"Where are you off to?" she asked Narc.
"Maybe Blue Goose for a beer and a read."
"I thought you were doing something else..." she said.
"No, I only did that for a day."
(They were talking about Narc's one day attempt at the Master Cleanse fast which had apparently taken place earlier in the week.)
Narc and I stopped at the lobby ATM, but when we got outside it was raining.
"I've got to run for an umbrella," he said. "I'm running towards Broadway."
"Well, I guess I'll say goodbye here."
"You don't need an umbrella?"
"I don't care if I get wet."
I kind of wanted it...
Back at home, I showered and changed and did a quick turn around to meet B. I tried to eat some chicken salad when I was with him, but ended up puking it up later in the library. From there I went to AA. It was a good meeting. A cute college boy brought up Kierkegaard in his "share." He reminded me of the kind of boy a college-aged Hammer might have had a crush on.
Last night, I was curling up on the couch to watch Curb Your Enthusiasm when StarGazer called. There was a busted water pipe in the bakery under her apartment and she had no shower. So, she came over here to shower and watched the show with me.
Today was a crazy day... a crazy, exhausting day. I taught two classes this morning, dashed across town to meet ProfSex for her office hours, finished up some reading and then went to class. After class, I trekked over a few avenues to find a supermarket to pick up milk for AA and then hung out at the meeting from 4:30 until nearly 9:00 PM. I was hungry and ready to get home when I got home.
But now that I'm home, why do I feel so empty? I talked to Pixie on the phone for a while tonight and then Meema. And then Lana called and was in a bad space and needed an ear. But why do I feel so empty?
I was just reading back some posts from December, looking for the times that I wrote about the Sorceress. The Narc was calling me drunk then. He was telling me that he loves me. He doesn't call me like that anymore because he has a drinking buddy. He has James every night now, ever since James left his wife. I will never hear him say he loves me again.
My heart is so, so, so confused.
I'm confused about AlAnon too. Even though I am a textbook AlAnon, I don't need to complicate my life right now with someone else making demands of me that I can't meet... with someone else telling me what to do. If it will give me useful tools, that's great... but if it is just another "you have to..." that I can't comply with, I'll hate myself even more.
I just wish I could make some things into what I want to make them.
I wish I still believed I were running the show.
love,
h
In any case, let me backtrack a little, back to Sunday night...
When I got back from AlAnon, I sang in my apartment-- something I haven't done in a considerably long time (mostly because real singing had been difficult post-surgery). But it felt good to sing again. I sang Elsa's Dream from Lohengrin and felt myself sinking into my throat in a delicious way. It's a real high for me and one of the only ones I'm still allowed. So, I called to make an appointment for a voice lesson next week.
NDN came up to my place at around 6:45. He has been really depressed and anxious lately and needed to talk about a lot of that stuff. So, we laid around on my couches for a while and then headed down to his place to sample some of the Russian salads he brought back from Brighton Beach. After we ate, we laid around on his couch and talked for a while longer. But Narc and I had been texting. And I wanted to go see him.
So, I did.
I got to his place at around 11:00. I felt guilty that I had my period. I felt guilty for feeling guilty about that. He looked tired. There were at least seven or eight finished bottles of wine and champagne and scores of beer bottles laying around. Narc explained it away by saying that it's all because of James. James is the wild and crazy one. Narc even laughingly suggested that he needs to go to "James Anonymous." (Alcohol is never the problem.)
We watched some TV and I gave him some blow jobs. I don't feel like reliving it right now, although I gave StarGazer all of the juicy details. (Choiceless choices... in your ass or in your mouth?) I can't pretend to hate it though, because we all know that I love it or I wouldn't be going back for more. Whatever... I stayed on my knees for a long, long time and watched TV with my neck twisted around and my head on his lap. Only once did I have a second thought. I brushed it away as quickly as it came.
I am always grateful to be there.
We got into bed. I told Narc that I went to an AlAnon meeting.
"Why?" he asked. "Isn't that for people with a problem alcoholic in their life?"
"Um... yeah, or people who grew up with problem drinkers," I said. "My therapist thought it would be a good idea."
He cuddled me close when we went to sleep, but it was hot in the room. I kept looking up at his face and wondering what I was doing there. I never see him drunk anymore. I miss drunk Narc. He makes more sense to me that way. It all does.
Narc couldn't sleep. He must have gotten up five or six times in the night and finally turned the air conditioner on. My alarm went off at 10:00 AM with a twinge of guilt. I didn't want to wake him up, but I had an appointment to pray with StarGazer. I went into the bathroom and whispered my prayers. I forgot to bring the prayer book, so she had to read those parts. Afterwards, I crawled back into bed with him. More blow jobs for him. Then I put my head on his chest and it was all okay and strangely normal.
We got out of bed at around Noon. I had to go home to shower and pick up B's contact lenses (which he had delivered to my apartment) before meeting him at school at 3:00 PM. Narc took his book (he's re-reading "Shogun") and decided to head for a cafe. He said he still needed another day to "recover" so he couldn't do any real work.
When we got into the elevator, I was startled to see the Sorceress-- Narc's neighbor who was there through the whole ordeal when he almost died last Fall. (I wrote about her in the first few posts of December '06).
"Hi!" I said, half embarrassed. (In case you forgot, she's the one who told me that Narc called me a "fuck buddy" and gave me a long talking-to about how I deserve better and was being abused).
"Hi," she smiled, wryly.
I could feel her judging me.
"Where are you off to?" she asked Narc.
"Maybe Blue Goose for a beer and a read."
"I thought you were doing something else..." she said.
"No, I only did that for a day."
(They were talking about Narc's one day attempt at the Master Cleanse fast which had apparently taken place earlier in the week.)
Narc and I stopped at the lobby ATM, but when we got outside it was raining.
"I've got to run for an umbrella," he said. "I'm running towards Broadway."
"Well, I guess I'll say goodbye here."
"You don't need an umbrella?"
"I don't care if I get wet."
I kind of wanted it...
Back at home, I showered and changed and did a quick turn around to meet B. I tried to eat some chicken salad when I was with him, but ended up puking it up later in the library. From there I went to AA. It was a good meeting. A cute college boy brought up Kierkegaard in his "share." He reminded me of the kind of boy a college-aged Hammer might have had a crush on.
Last night, I was curling up on the couch to watch Curb Your Enthusiasm when StarGazer called. There was a busted water pipe in the bakery under her apartment and she had no shower. So, she came over here to shower and watched the show with me.
Today was a crazy day... a crazy, exhausting day. I taught two classes this morning, dashed across town to meet ProfSex for her office hours, finished up some reading and then went to class. After class, I trekked over a few avenues to find a supermarket to pick up milk for AA and then hung out at the meeting from 4:30 until nearly 9:00 PM. I was hungry and ready to get home when I got home.
But now that I'm home, why do I feel so empty? I talked to Pixie on the phone for a while tonight and then Meema. And then Lana called and was in a bad space and needed an ear. But why do I feel so empty?
I was just reading back some posts from December, looking for the times that I wrote about the Sorceress. The Narc was calling me drunk then. He was telling me that he loves me. He doesn't call me like that anymore because he has a drinking buddy. He has James every night now, ever since James left his wife. I will never hear him say he loves me again.
My heart is so, so, so confused.
I'm confused about AlAnon too. Even though I am a textbook AlAnon, I don't need to complicate my life right now with someone else making demands of me that I can't meet... with someone else telling me what to do. If it will give me useful tools, that's great... but if it is just another "you have to..." that I can't comply with, I'll hate myself even more.
I just wish I could make some things into what I want to make them.
I wish I still believed I were running the show.
love,
h
Sunday, September 9, 2007
AlAnon (and the Narc)
I went to my first AlAnon meeting today and I'm really glad that I did. It felt weird to be a "newcomer" again at a meeting. I felt full of fear... fear of something... I don't know what... letting go?
Anyway, Narc texted me at 12:50 PM this afternoon:
Had tah cut down thah holdin', but still Out of the City...
My first reaction? Fear. Why was he so fucked up in the middle of the afternoon? Was something seriously wrong? I wrote back:
What?? Are you ok?
Narc: Am fine hon, just wondering where you are?
Hyde: Heading to lunch w my sister in midtown. What did your txt mean?
Narc: Come to cuddle. Come here after. Come soon...
Hyde: Call me to confirm and I will...
But I felt sick about all of it.
Lunch with my sister was nice. We ate at Cinema Cafe near Bloomingdale's. Afterwards, I called Narc but he didn't pick up. I didn't expect him to. I left him two messages and sent him one text, but he didn't pick up. After what happened to me a few weeks ago, I am never going down there again to "wake him up" without a confirmation of being let in.
Then I watched Bret Michael's Rock of Love and headed out to AlAnon. It's kind of fitting that I was sitting there through the whole meeting worrying about whether or not he would wake up and call me, worrying about whether or not he would be mad I didn't come down earlier in the afternoon, worrying about where he was out and about. When it comes to Narc, I definitely have an obsession and a compulsion. It doesn't feel all that different from my relationship with alcohol, except for the physical addiction.
Anyway, when I got out of the meeting, he had left me a message in his low and creaky voice that I love.
Hydeeen, what's up? It's the Narc here. It's a little after 5:30. Ugh. Just crawled out of bed. Dying... DYING! But um, yeah... thought you were going to come down and wake me up but uh, I guess you wanted to make sure I was around. Yes. I am indeed around. So, um,... yeah. Give me a call when you can.
I called him from the cab on my way home. I told him I had dinner plans with NDN but could come after.
"Um, well, you don't have to if you have plans," he said. "Don't bother."
Was this posturing? Or was this rejection?
"No, well I mean, my plans aren't late," I stammered. "I mean, I could come after if you wanted me to."
(What did he want from me? What was I supposed to say?)
"Well, I'm floating around tonight, Hyde," he said.
"What does that mean? Do you not want to see me?"
"I'll be floating around home."
(I still didn't get it.)
"So...? I'll just call you later?" I asked.
"Yeah. Sure. Call me later."
I'm not sure what to think or feel anymore. I made the resolution after last week that I am no longer going to contact him unless he contacts me first. It got me through the week with my sanity slightly more intact, but I feel like such a fool. Why can't I control my thoughts and behaviors any better than this?
StarGazer and Cherubino were over here last night. We watched Time Bandits, apparently a childhood favorite of Cherubino's. I felt exhausted. I wish I had been in a different mood. I keep wishing for a lot of feelings to change lately.
I don't know what I'm doing. I guess it really is just one day at a time.
That's it for now... before I slip into a morbid place.
Love,
h
Anyway, Narc texted me at 12:50 PM this afternoon:
Had tah cut down thah holdin', but still Out of the City...
My first reaction? Fear. Why was he so fucked up in the middle of the afternoon? Was something seriously wrong? I wrote back:
What?? Are you ok?
Narc: Am fine hon, just wondering where you are?
Hyde: Heading to lunch w my sister in midtown. What did your txt mean?
Narc: Come to cuddle. Come here after. Come soon...
Hyde: Call me to confirm and I will...
But I felt sick about all of it.
Lunch with my sister was nice. We ate at Cinema Cafe near Bloomingdale's. Afterwards, I called Narc but he didn't pick up. I didn't expect him to. I left him two messages and sent him one text, but he didn't pick up. After what happened to me a few weeks ago, I am never going down there again to "wake him up" without a confirmation of being let in.
Then I watched Bret Michael's Rock of Love and headed out to AlAnon. It's kind of fitting that I was sitting there through the whole meeting worrying about whether or not he would wake up and call me, worrying about whether or not he would be mad I didn't come down earlier in the afternoon, worrying about where he was out and about. When it comes to Narc, I definitely have an obsession and a compulsion. It doesn't feel all that different from my relationship with alcohol, except for the physical addiction.
Anyway, when I got out of the meeting, he had left me a message in his low and creaky voice that I love.
Hydeeen, what's up? It's the Narc here. It's a little after 5:30. Ugh. Just crawled out of bed. Dying... DYING! But um, yeah... thought you were going to come down and wake me up but uh, I guess you wanted to make sure I was around. Yes. I am indeed around. So, um,... yeah. Give me a call when you can.
I called him from the cab on my way home. I told him I had dinner plans with NDN but could come after.
"Um, well, you don't have to if you have plans," he said. "Don't bother."
Was this posturing? Or was this rejection?
"No, well I mean, my plans aren't late," I stammered. "I mean, I could come after if you wanted me to."
(What did he want from me? What was I supposed to say?)
"Well, I'm floating around tonight, Hyde," he said.
"What does that mean? Do you not want to see me?"
"I'll be floating around home."
(I still didn't get it.)
"So...? I'll just call you later?" I asked.
"Yeah. Sure. Call me later."
I'm not sure what to think or feel anymore. I made the resolution after last week that I am no longer going to contact him unless he contacts me first. It got me through the week with my sanity slightly more intact, but I feel like such a fool. Why can't I control my thoughts and behaviors any better than this?
StarGazer and Cherubino were over here last night. We watched Time Bandits, apparently a childhood favorite of Cherubino's. I felt exhausted. I wish I had been in a different mood. I keep wishing for a lot of feelings to change lately.
I don't know what I'm doing. I guess it really is just one day at a time.
That's it for now... before I slip into a morbid place.
Love,
h
I love Todd Manning.
I am in the process of falling in love again... with opera and with soap opera!
Let's start with the soap opera... it's the more embarrassing of the two, but who cares. I had been an avid fan of ABC's One Life to Live ever since I was 15 years old. (I started watching in 1994). I have also been in love with one of the characters for just as long-- the villain with a wounded heart, the one and only Todd Manning. (I don't know if anyone else out there watches the show, and if so, maybe I seem even crazier, but there... I said it.) This love has been sustained through several on-screen deaths and rebirths and even the traumatic actor-switch which took place in 2004.
Before I had DVR and before there was such a things as SoapNet I used to set my VCR to tape every episode. If something went wrong (such as when Todd returned in 2000 after a 2 year absence and my VCR didn't record it!) I would completely freak out. I'm sure B remembers it well. When I was in Russia in the Summer of 1998, I had my mom tape every Friday's episode for me (I watched them all in a marathon when I got back), and my friend Amac filled in the blanks.
So, after a 10 year love affair with my favorite character, I was stunned when they decided to replace the actor in 2004. I thought that Roger Howarth was irreplaceable (and in many ways, I still think so), but within six months of meeting the "NuTodd," as the message boards called him, I was hooked on him too . I consider it a real triumph of the craft that they managed to keep me in love with a character despite the significant differences in appearance and style of the actors who played him.
When I met Narc, I let the soaps (like many things I loved in my life) fade into the background. I watched consistently through the end of 2004, but only caught a few episodes here and there between 2005-2007. When I recently started watching again, it felt like a homecoming... why did I ever give it up? It is my most favorite "downtime" thing to do! One evening, not too long ago, I read through storyline recaps (over at SoapCentral) to fill myself in on the past two years and I was once again on a roll.
On Wednesday, I was hanging out with Bezoukhoff when the subject of One Life to Live came up. I tried to explain to him my passion for Todd. I even showed him an old VHS I have of one of my favorite scenes from 1998. I told him how I had tracked down that scene on the Internet, found a fan who knew what I was talking about and had it on tape and then convinced her to send me a copy.
"I bet they have that all on YouTube now," he said.
"Oh, I doubt it!" I insisted. "OLTL has aired over 10,000 episodes now. There's no way!"
But.... I was wrong.
YouTube has it. YouTube has it all!
When I started watching, Todd was embroiled in the middle of a trial for the infamous 1993 "Spring Fling" rape. I saw the fallout from that story line, Todd's love affair with Rebbecca, and the beginning of his spiritual redemption. But now? Now I can see the events of 1993! I can see all of my favorite moments of 1994, 1995, 1996... I can watch Todd and Blair fall in love again. This is bad for me... Bad for my productivity!
I have a feeling I'm never going to get up from my computer ever again. Oh well... Love is love is love. And for me, love never dies! :)
love,
h
PS: Guess I'll get to my "opera" post later.
Roger Howarth as Todd (the year I started watching):
Let's start with the soap opera... it's the more embarrassing of the two, but who cares. I had been an avid fan of ABC's One Life to Live ever since I was 15 years old. (I started watching in 1994). I have also been in love with one of the characters for just as long-- the villain with a wounded heart, the one and only Todd Manning. (I don't know if anyone else out there watches the show, and if so, maybe I seem even crazier, but there... I said it.) This love has been sustained through several on-screen deaths and rebirths and even the traumatic actor-switch which took place in 2004.
Before I had DVR and before there was such a things as SoapNet I used to set my VCR to tape every episode. If something went wrong (such as when Todd returned in 2000 after a 2 year absence and my VCR didn't record it!) I would completely freak out. I'm sure B remembers it well. When I was in Russia in the Summer of 1998, I had my mom tape every Friday's episode for me (I watched them all in a marathon when I got back), and my friend Amac filled in the blanks.
So, after a 10 year love affair with my favorite character, I was stunned when they decided to replace the actor in 2004. I thought that Roger Howarth was irreplaceable (and in many ways, I still think so), but within six months of meeting the "NuTodd," as the message boards called him, I was hooked on him too . I consider it a real triumph of the craft that they managed to keep me in love with a character despite the significant differences in appearance and style of the actors who played him.
When I met Narc, I let the soaps (like many things I loved in my life) fade into the background. I watched consistently through the end of 2004, but only caught a few episodes here and there between 2005-2007. When I recently started watching again, it felt like a homecoming... why did I ever give it up? It is my most favorite "downtime" thing to do! One evening, not too long ago, I read through storyline recaps (over at SoapCentral) to fill myself in on the past two years and I was once again on a roll.
On Wednesday, I was hanging out with Bezoukhoff when the subject of One Life to Live came up. I tried to explain to him my passion for Todd. I even showed him an old VHS I have of one of my favorite scenes from 1998. I told him how I had tracked down that scene on the Internet, found a fan who knew what I was talking about and had it on tape and then convinced her to send me a copy.
"I bet they have that all on YouTube now," he said.
"Oh, I doubt it!" I insisted. "OLTL has aired over 10,000 episodes now. There's no way!"
But.... I was wrong.
YouTube has it. YouTube has it all!
When I started watching, Todd was embroiled in the middle of a trial for the infamous 1993 "Spring Fling" rape. I saw the fallout from that story line, Todd's love affair with Rebbecca, and the beginning of his spiritual redemption. But now? Now I can see the events of 1993! I can see all of my favorite moments of 1994, 1995, 1996... I can watch Todd and Blair fall in love again. This is bad for me... Bad for my productivity!
I have a feeling I'm never going to get up from my computer ever again. Oh well... Love is love is love. And for me, love never dies! :)
love,
h
PS: Guess I'll get to my "opera" post later.
Roger Howarth as Todd (the year I started watching):
Friday, September 7, 2007
Rose Water
At the fountain at Lincoln Center... Rose water. Literally "rose water." Like blood that has been rinsed out several times already.
Powerless. Isolated still.
I'm back in an old place tonight. Hallucinatory shapes in the scaffolding... a quivering leaf... a dead bird on the sidewalk-- bathed in that pink/orange light. The sparkle. The darkness.
I remember the day I waited here for Narc... how I crossed my legs in those jeans. The boots.
I remember sitting on the floor of his apartment lacing and unlacing my boots.
I remember kissing AIR7 against the stone of Avery Fischer. The biting cold tasted sweet. A pink cheek for both of us.
And that pool part at Amac's with Dominic's friend who just got out of jail and watched me play the piano. At the flush of 18. The vintage dress I was wearing-- the plunging neck and skimming hips. I felt pretty that night. I felt pretty when I crossed my legs thinking of Narc here at the fountain.
I don't feel pretty tonight. I want to feel dangerous... smoke cigarettes. I want his phone call in the deepest dregs of my being.
It's unfathomable-- he has access whenever he wants and chooses not to access.
But Hammer said something to me that I hadn't thought of before-- that I don't respect him. And he must feel it. And he must know it.
I always get upset to think that he doesn't respect me, but I don't respect him either. Am I any better than he is? In the end, perhaps not. Perhaps not...
Tonight is a night to go to the river. But I have to close and go to the "watch" because I said I would.
...Because I said I would...
Powerless. Isolated still.
I'm back in an old place tonight. Hallucinatory shapes in the scaffolding... a quivering leaf... a dead bird on the sidewalk-- bathed in that pink/orange light. The sparkle. The darkness.
I remember the day I waited here for Narc... how I crossed my legs in those jeans. The boots.
I remember sitting on the floor of his apartment lacing and unlacing my boots.
I remember kissing AIR7 against the stone of Avery Fischer. The biting cold tasted sweet. A pink cheek for both of us.
And that pool part at Amac's with Dominic's friend who just got out of jail and watched me play the piano. At the flush of 18. The vintage dress I was wearing-- the plunging neck and skimming hips. I felt pretty that night. I felt pretty when I crossed my legs thinking of Narc here at the fountain.
I don't feel pretty tonight. I want to feel dangerous... smoke cigarettes. I want his phone call in the deepest dregs of my being.
It's unfathomable-- he has access whenever he wants and chooses not to access.
But Hammer said something to me that I hadn't thought of before-- that I don't respect him. And he must feel it. And he must know it.
I always get upset to think that he doesn't respect me, but I don't respect him either. Am I any better than he is? In the end, perhaps not. Perhaps not...
Tonight is a night to go to the river. But I have to close and go to the "watch" because I said I would.
...Because I said I would...
Wednesday, September 5, 2007
Not Good Enough
Well, he answered my email with one of his own...
What weird way? Just been writing. Taking today off, though, maybe get together later? Text soon--
Narc
I was running around all day yesterday between teaching two classes, taking my German history class and doing my Tuesday night commitments at AA, so I didn't have time to get to a computer. I checked the email from my cell phone just before AA and wrote back...
Just read your email. What weird way? The way in which you don't respond for days. It's weird to me... and frustrating and confusing.
Too sensitive my dear!! he replied.
Nature of the beast... But you know that, I said.
To which he wrote: Chill babe. Meeting friend now. Call later.
ARGHH!!!
In any case, despite my sheer exhaustion from the day, I got through the meeting. When I got out, I had a text from TT. He was at the newly instated "trivia night" at Cheers and invited me over. So... I went. I came home and showered first and put on some divine makeup. I was feeling pretty-- I'm down one pants size right now and it feels good considering how long it was that I was only gaining weight.
BarMan greeted me with a big hello into the microphone which was nice, but it was strange to be there. I just don't belong there anymore. I just don't. The new bartender (the one who has been there since IrishBird left) was wearing a viking cap and everyone was calling her "Thor." I was tired. I stayed for a few hours, but I'm not quite sure why. TT was looking cuter than usual though. Anyway, before I left, I went to tell BarMan goodbye.
"So, what do you do with yourself these days, Hyde?"
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"What do you do for fun!?"
"Um... I don't know... a lot of things!"
It seemed like a strange question to ask... as if my life would be empty now that I'm not drinking. But, in fact, it's quite the opposite. My life is busier and richer and more diverse and fuller than ever. I couldn't quite explain that to him though.
Anyway, Narc did finally write to me at around 11:00.
Just back in, he said. Coming down?
I felt weary... defeated by myself. I said OK.
It was OK last night... but it wasn't good.
"How's your writing?" I asked.
"Um... not making much progress. I haven't written in a while."
Given the email that he had just sent me that morning, I couldn't believe my ears. He can't even lie consistently! I didn't say anything, but I felt my face getting flush. He started to tell me how all he has been doing is playing Metroid, that he went to the beach out at Sandy Hook with James on Sunday, that he and James partied all night on Monday, that he and Laurie were out for drinks earlier, that on Saturday he had his friend Danielle come over and pose for some photo shoot. Still I didn't say anything.
It wasn't until two conversations later when I made myself muster it up.
"I thought you said you were busy writing all this time," I said quietly.
"Um... well... I mean, I was in front of the powerbook," he fumbled. "I just count any hours in front of the powerbook as hours logged writing."
"Even if you're playing Metroid?" I raised an eyebrow. "I don't really care," I went on, "but you don't have to lie to me."
After that we both let the conversation go. Who wants to deal with such unpleasantness? But I felt like shit about myself.
Later on, we watched the Simpsons Movie which he had downloaded and then at around 2:00 AM fucked and went to sleep. I still didn't feel in love with him. But I was somehow grateful to be near him. Craziness.
This morning he woke me up with an erection at 7:00 AM. I didn't get nearly enough sleep. We laid around for most of the morning. He was telling me how he thinks that moving to LA might fix his life and his "stasis."
"I think your stasis is internal," I said. "I don't think it can be fixed by adjusting the externals."
"Yeah, and I hate to drive," he agreed.
He told me that he is writing some children's book called "The Penguin and the Unicorn." It is about some bachelor penguin who sits around miserable and lonely in his igloo with his big flat screen and video games and martinis. (Sound familiar?) Then the penguin sees a gorgeous unicorn on TV and falls in love and sets off on a quest to find her. The unicorn is stupid and shallow though, and when the penguin reaches her, she won't even give him the time of day, so the penguin goes back to being an isolated lonely creature.
Lovely.
We parted ways at around 11:30. He went for a run/walk, and I got a cab to come home. I still felt like shit about myself. Narc only likes to surround himself with beautiful women and I will never be beautiful enough.
But maybe God threw something in my way to cheer me up... When I got into the cab, the driver turned around and said: "How are you so beautiful? You born that way?"
He went on and on to ask me about myself, to tell me I had kind eyes, was a "good woman" and that he was looking to marry a "good woman" like me. He said he was from Georgia and was 46.
"Is that okay?" he asked. "You only date American men? Is that too old?"
I was embarrassed. He asked for my number or if he could give me his. I said I would take his.
"You will call?"
"I'll think about it," I said.
Of course, I won't. It walked the fine line between flattering and creepy.
Anyway, I'm due for my one month post-op checkup today so I've got to go back to see the surgeon in an hour. I better go wash the Narc off of me before then.
I don't feel good about myself right now. I feel lonely.
love,
h
What weird way? Just been writing. Taking today off, though, maybe get together later? Text soon--
Narc
I was running around all day yesterday between teaching two classes, taking my German history class and doing my Tuesday night commitments at AA, so I didn't have time to get to a computer. I checked the email from my cell phone just before AA and wrote back...
Just read your email. What weird way? The way in which you don't respond for days. It's weird to me... and frustrating and confusing.
Too sensitive my dear!! he replied.
Nature of the beast... But you know that, I said.
To which he wrote: Chill babe. Meeting friend now. Call later.
ARGHH!!!
In any case, despite my sheer exhaustion from the day, I got through the meeting. When I got out, I had a text from TT. He was at the newly instated "trivia night" at Cheers and invited me over. So... I went. I came home and showered first and put on some divine makeup. I was feeling pretty-- I'm down one pants size right now and it feels good considering how long it was that I was only gaining weight.
BarMan greeted me with a big hello into the microphone which was nice, but it was strange to be there. I just don't belong there anymore. I just don't. The new bartender (the one who has been there since IrishBird left) was wearing a viking cap and everyone was calling her "Thor." I was tired. I stayed for a few hours, but I'm not quite sure why. TT was looking cuter than usual though. Anyway, before I left, I went to tell BarMan goodbye.
"So, what do you do with yourself these days, Hyde?"
"What do you mean?" I asked.
"What do you do for fun!?"
"Um... I don't know... a lot of things!"
It seemed like a strange question to ask... as if my life would be empty now that I'm not drinking. But, in fact, it's quite the opposite. My life is busier and richer and more diverse and fuller than ever. I couldn't quite explain that to him though.
Anyway, Narc did finally write to me at around 11:00.
Just back in, he said. Coming down?
I felt weary... defeated by myself. I said OK.
It was OK last night... but it wasn't good.
"How's your writing?" I asked.
"Um... not making much progress. I haven't written in a while."
Given the email that he had just sent me that morning, I couldn't believe my ears. He can't even lie consistently! I didn't say anything, but I felt my face getting flush. He started to tell me how all he has been doing is playing Metroid, that he went to the beach out at Sandy Hook with James on Sunday, that he and James partied all night on Monday, that he and Laurie were out for drinks earlier, that on Saturday he had his friend Danielle come over and pose for some photo shoot. Still I didn't say anything.
It wasn't until two conversations later when I made myself muster it up.
"I thought you said you were busy writing all this time," I said quietly.
"Um... well... I mean, I was in front of the powerbook," he fumbled. "I just count any hours in front of the powerbook as hours logged writing."
"Even if you're playing Metroid?" I raised an eyebrow. "I don't really care," I went on, "but you don't have to lie to me."
After that we both let the conversation go. Who wants to deal with such unpleasantness? But I felt like shit about myself.
Later on, we watched the Simpsons Movie which he had downloaded and then at around 2:00 AM fucked and went to sleep. I still didn't feel in love with him. But I was somehow grateful to be near him. Craziness.
This morning he woke me up with an erection at 7:00 AM. I didn't get nearly enough sleep. We laid around for most of the morning. He was telling me how he thinks that moving to LA might fix his life and his "stasis."
"I think your stasis is internal," I said. "I don't think it can be fixed by adjusting the externals."
"Yeah, and I hate to drive," he agreed.
He told me that he is writing some children's book called "The Penguin and the Unicorn." It is about some bachelor penguin who sits around miserable and lonely in his igloo with his big flat screen and video games and martinis. (Sound familiar?) Then the penguin sees a gorgeous unicorn on TV and falls in love and sets off on a quest to find her. The unicorn is stupid and shallow though, and when the penguin reaches her, she won't even give him the time of day, so the penguin goes back to being an isolated lonely creature.
Lovely.
We parted ways at around 11:30. He went for a run/walk, and I got a cab to come home. I still felt like shit about myself. Narc only likes to surround himself with beautiful women and I will never be beautiful enough.
But maybe God threw something in my way to cheer me up... When I got into the cab, the driver turned around and said: "How are you so beautiful? You born that way?"
He went on and on to ask me about myself, to tell me I had kind eyes, was a "good woman" and that he was looking to marry a "good woman" like me. He said he was from Georgia and was 46.
"Is that okay?" he asked. "You only date American men? Is that too old?"
I was embarrassed. He asked for my number or if he could give me his. I said I would take his.
"You will call?"
"I'll think about it," I said.
Of course, I won't. It walked the fine line between flattering and creepy.
Anyway, I'm due for my one month post-op checkup today so I've got to go back to see the surgeon in an hour. I better go wash the Narc off of me before then.
I don't feel good about myself right now. I feel lonely.
love,
h
Monday, September 3, 2007
Just Asking
PS: I don't know if it was a wise thing to do or not, but I just sent him the following email:
How was your weekend? Is there a reason you've ignored my call and the few texts I sent since Thursday? Just asking... I never know with you. Anyway, I'll assume that there is and then leave it at that and leave you alone. I just had to say something because I can't deal anymore with this weird way of relating...
-h-
How was your weekend? Is there a reason you've ignored my call and the few texts I sent since Thursday? Just asking... I never know with you. Anyway, I'll assume that there is and then leave it at that and leave you alone. I just had to say something because I can't deal anymore with this weird way of relating...
-h-
Sun-Sapped
I think I'm going to try AlAnon. I'm sick of throwing up over Narc-related anxiety. I'm sick, sick, sick and tired of my ridiculous feelings that are not rooted in any sort of reality.
Today was a nice day. I woke up at a decent hour and researched and wrote my lecture on Ancient India/Hinduism/Buddhism. We'll have to see how well it goes over tomorrow with my students. After that I headed into Central Park to meet StarGazer and two other girls from AA with whom I'm not as close.
I'm still not back to myself post-op because I went in the wrong entrance and ended up walking five blocks north and swinging back down around the reservoir and I was exhausted and sweating and weak just from that little walk. I eventually did find the girls on the Great Lawn though. I don't know why I went to the park. I hate the outdoors. I can't fathom why people would play a game like "catch." I especially hate being in the sun. I am firmly convinced that none of those people hanging out in the park are native New Yorkers. I just know it. I'm happier being sun-starved, holed up at home with a cigarette just for the aesthetic effect.
Anyway, I did get some reading done in the park-- mostly German historiography stuff. Then I came back home and tried to eat something (without much success) before turning around to meet Pixie and another friend, "A" at a meeting in Chelsea. I bumped into a newcomer there-- a girl with about seven days who I first met at AA last week. After the meeting she and "A" and another two people and I went out to a diner. It was good for me.
Anyway, I'm home now and tired. The sun has "sapped my strength," as my grandma would have said.
Tomorrow is going to be a long day-- full of work. I'm sort of looking forward to it. Tomorrow is also LilSis' first day of work as an official lawyer. I'll be wishing her luck.
lots of love,
h
Today was a nice day. I woke up at a decent hour and researched and wrote my lecture on Ancient India/Hinduism/Buddhism. We'll have to see how well it goes over tomorrow with my students. After that I headed into Central Park to meet StarGazer and two other girls from AA with whom I'm not as close.
I'm still not back to myself post-op because I went in the wrong entrance and ended up walking five blocks north and swinging back down around the reservoir and I was exhausted and sweating and weak just from that little walk. I eventually did find the girls on the Great Lawn though. I don't know why I went to the park. I hate the outdoors. I can't fathom why people would play a game like "catch." I especially hate being in the sun. I am firmly convinced that none of those people hanging out in the park are native New Yorkers. I just know it. I'm happier being sun-starved, holed up at home with a cigarette just for the aesthetic effect.
Anyway, I did get some reading done in the park-- mostly German historiography stuff. Then I came back home and tried to eat something (without much success) before turning around to meet Pixie and another friend, "A" at a meeting in Chelsea. I bumped into a newcomer there-- a girl with about seven days who I first met at AA last week. After the meeting she and "A" and another two people and I went out to a diner. It was good for me.
Anyway, I'm home now and tired. The sun has "sapped my strength," as my grandma would have said.
Tomorrow is going to be a long day-- full of work. I'm sort of looking forward to it. Tomorrow is also LilSis' first day of work as an official lawyer. I'll be wishing her luck.
lots of love,
h
Renovations
I just got back from Hammer's place... or, I guess I should say "Hammer and the Alaskan's" place. They hosted an awesome little dinner party. Some of Hammer's usual crew were there-- Maximus, Angel, Smiley (a few hours late), etc. And the Alaskan had some cool friends there too. I brought StarGazer with me.
I don't know what I want to write tonight... only that I wanted to say something before going to bed. Did I tell you all that I'm not in love with the Narc anymore? Even so, he is in "ignore" mode right now and it is causing me an underlying sort of nauseous anxiety that is difficult to bear.
I remember May, 2004. In May, 2004 I had just lost a lot of weight, I had just completed my first major research paper as part of the PhD program. I was excited about school. I hadn't met the Narc. I hadn't yet started those last two years of insane binge drinking that spiraled me downwards into my bottom. I hadn't really touched cocaine for four years. I was in a pretty good place in May 2004... unless you look at where I was emotionally.
I feel like so much of what I have been working on lately is just to get me back to that point... not to get ahead... just to get back to the point before I began that last massive bout of self-destruction. I got sober. I am losing weight right now. I am attacking my incompletes with a vengeance. But I looked in the mirror this morning and I felt older... not old, but older. I can't really turn back time. I can't really undo the damage I've done. I can't un-age myself. The skin around my eyes just looks a little different than it did when I was 19. And that bothers me. It's been bothering me all day. Because I need to go back... not to 19, but to 25.
In any case, I managed to have a decent day in spite of my Narc-anxiety and in spite of my fears about the passage of time. I went up to "Book Culture" today (apparently the awful new name for "Labyrinth Books" ) and afterwards walked around the Cathedral of St. John the Divine. That cathedral was my spot when I was in college. I knew it inside and out and would sit there for hours, madly writing in my journals. Tragically, there was a huge fire in 2001 and most of the cathedral is still shut down while they're repairing it.
It was strange to be in that sacred space, lopped off, bisected, cut up, mutilated by huge, solid, gray, temporary, wooden walls. I used to sit in one of the chapels in front of a blazing orange-red sky, painted into motion, with a huge wooden cross hanging on top of the painting. The painting moved but the cross was so solid... so present... so impossibly incongruous with the sky in which it was suspended. I went there today and the painting was gone-- only another mousy gray wooden board in its place. It didn't make me feel sad, per say, but rather, I felt just slightly panicked. I can't go back. I can't go back.
I lived in that church when I lived in the dark places in my mind and I couldn't go back to visit them today. I saw a stained glass Mary, though, with a halo of stars and she was fully restored. I want to be fully restored.
In any case, Hammer and the Alaskan have a beautiful roof deck-- full of flowers. And they have done so much work in fixing up the apartment-- new couches, parallel work-desks, all of the books shelved, cleaned up and rearranged.
New, new, new, huh?
So, why do I feel so old?
love,
h
I don't know what I want to write tonight... only that I wanted to say something before going to bed. Did I tell you all that I'm not in love with the Narc anymore? Even so, he is in "ignore" mode right now and it is causing me an underlying sort of nauseous anxiety that is difficult to bear.
I remember May, 2004. In May, 2004 I had just lost a lot of weight, I had just completed my first major research paper as part of the PhD program. I was excited about school. I hadn't met the Narc. I hadn't yet started those last two years of insane binge drinking that spiraled me downwards into my bottom. I hadn't really touched cocaine for four years. I was in a pretty good place in May 2004... unless you look at where I was emotionally.
I feel like so much of what I have been working on lately is just to get me back to that point... not to get ahead... just to get back to the point before I began that last massive bout of self-destruction. I got sober. I am losing weight right now. I am attacking my incompletes with a vengeance. But I looked in the mirror this morning and I felt older... not old, but older. I can't really turn back time. I can't really undo the damage I've done. I can't un-age myself. The skin around my eyes just looks a little different than it did when I was 19. And that bothers me. It's been bothering me all day. Because I need to go back... not to 19, but to 25.
In any case, I managed to have a decent day in spite of my Narc-anxiety and in spite of my fears about the passage of time. I went up to "Book Culture" today (apparently the awful new name for "Labyrinth Books" ) and afterwards walked around the Cathedral of St. John the Divine. That cathedral was my spot when I was in college. I knew it inside and out and would sit there for hours, madly writing in my journals. Tragically, there was a huge fire in 2001 and most of the cathedral is still shut down while they're repairing it.
It was strange to be in that sacred space, lopped off, bisected, cut up, mutilated by huge, solid, gray, temporary, wooden walls. I used to sit in one of the chapels in front of a blazing orange-red sky, painted into motion, with a huge wooden cross hanging on top of the painting. The painting moved but the cross was so solid... so present... so impossibly incongruous with the sky in which it was suspended. I went there today and the painting was gone-- only another mousy gray wooden board in its place. It didn't make me feel sad, per say, but rather, I felt just slightly panicked. I can't go back. I can't go back.
I lived in that church when I lived in the dark places in my mind and I couldn't go back to visit them today. I saw a stained glass Mary, though, with a halo of stars and she was fully restored. I want to be fully restored.
In any case, Hammer and the Alaskan have a beautiful roof deck-- full of flowers. And they have done so much work in fixing up the apartment-- new couches, parallel work-desks, all of the books shelved, cleaned up and rearranged.
New, new, new, huh?
So, why do I feel so old?
love,
h
Sunday, September 2, 2007
Winter Gray
Winter Gray
I woke up this morning and felt empty. I took a shower and blow-dried my hair. Then I put on "winter makeup"--layers of gray, rosy cheeks. I love the winter. But I feel old. My skin is slightly different than it was when I was 19. I don't like it.
I woke up this morning with a broken heart, but I'm not sure why.
love,
h
I woke up this morning and felt empty. I took a shower and blow-dried my hair. Then I put on "winter makeup"--layers of gray, rosy cheeks. I love the winter. But I feel old. My skin is slightly different than it was when I was 19. I don't like it.
I woke up this morning with a broken heart, but I'm not sure why.
love,
h
Saturday, September 1, 2007
September Song
Well, I'm still writing... just somewhere else for the moment. I feel the need for privacy right now. I'm not sure how long that will last, but that doesn't mean I won't be back here every now and then.
Last night I was looking at CL ads (back on that site after Narc's posting last Friday) and I came across one that made me laugh. If I were still drinking and drugging I totally would have answered it. I was tempted to answer it anyway, but sobriety first, right?
Blatant attempt to lure someone into my pathetic web of debauchery -
38 (Upper West Side)
Hey all,
I'm hanging out at home, angry at the world, angry at my ex-wife, angry at myself, smoking pot and drinking scotch. Sound appealing? You disgust me. You should swing by.
Ha ha ha ha!
Anyway, happy September! The sky is bright blue this morning, but I can still see shades of the moon.
Last night I was looking at CL ads (back on that site after Narc's posting last Friday) and I came across one that made me laugh. If I were still drinking and drugging I totally would have answered it. I was tempted to answer it anyway, but sobriety first, right?
Blatant attempt to lure someone into my pathetic web of debauchery -
38 (Upper West Side)
Hey all,
I'm hanging out at home, angry at the world, angry at my ex-wife, angry at myself, smoking pot and drinking scotch. Sound appealing? You disgust me. You should swing by.
Ha ha ha ha!
Anyway, happy September! The sky is bright blue this morning, but I can still see shades of the moon.
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