St. Val

What makes a date a date? Food?

Got a date for St. Val’s day tomorrow. I’ve been on dates before, yes, but I’m really looking forward to this one.

Did you ever read Miss Manners? I’ve got lots of issues (admittedly) but poor manners isn’t one of them. On that note, here’s her view on what a date is comprised of:

There are three possible parts to a date, of which at least two must be offered: entertainment, food, and affection. It is customary to begin a series of dates with a great deal of entertainment, a moderate amount of food, and the merest suggestion of affection. As the amount of affection increases, the entertainment can be reduced proportionately. When the affection IS the entertainment, we no longer call it dating. Under no circumstances can the food be omitted. — Miss Manners’ Guide to Excruciatingly Correct Behavior

Think I’ve got the entertainment and food part down.

If I manage to get some sleep the night before, I might be normal enough to work in some affection.

Who am I kidding? I’ll settle for the food and entertainment.

Location: Yonkers, New York
Mood: curious
Music: every time I try to make it right, it all comes down on me

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Friends

Your friends bring out different parts of you

Went to see my college friends again last night. We don’t get together as often as, I think, we would like.

Life gets in the way.

Heard once that JRR Tolkien, CS Lewis and a third writer were all close friends and when the third writer died (Charles Williams?), CS Lewis said something along the lines of “When he died, I thought, ‘at least I’ll have more of JRR, but in fact I had less,'” meaning that, when the third friend died, CS Lewis found that the third friend brought out things in Tolkien that CS couldn’t.

In any case, I see my friends individually but when we all get together, it’s a different dynamic. I see things in my friends’ faces and hear voices from over a decade ago.

And it’s good seeing my old friends again.

I haven’t seen me in years.

Location: @3AM, taking the train home
Mood: thoughtful
Music: Good times, bad times, give me some of that

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Laugh it up

It’s easy to go broke dating in NYC

Went to a comedy club recently with the blue-jean eyed girl.

It was good, it included Gabriel Iglesias from Last Comic Standing, who was great.

But what a scam – basically, it’s a $20 cover, two drink minimum ($24) with an automatic 18% gratuity. For two people with just a plate of appetizers, it worked out to be $150.

Counting cab rides, subway rides, and daily miscellany, the day would have easily been $200+.

All I can say is, man, there’s no quicker way to go broke than just trying to entertain yourself in the big city so that you don’t go postal.

That’s why I spend Sunday through Thursday eating cold sandwiches and drinking tap water.

Mmm…tap water…

Location: @6AM, yawning on a futon
Mood: busy
Music: I shouldn’t have done it, and it won’t forgive me

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Love and Pride

Met up with the Ex one last time

I’m tired – my insomnia’s returned. I’m running about at half-speed and, more stressing, half-wit.

Saw my ex again a few days ago. She came by to pick up one last thing she left here. It was actually pleasant. She and I both managed to crack a smile or two.

Told her that I was seeing someone. Nothing yet, I said, more the chance that it could be something.

She nodded and slowly smiled and said that she hoped it worked out for me.

I believe her.

She also said that I should get a handle on my insomnia because it was a major problem in our relationship. The irony of her comment was that it kept me up all night despite a massive amount of chemicals.

But the other thing that kept my past girlfriends and me from being happy, I realized, was pride. Admittedly, it was usually mine. It’s a horrid sin.

Our respective pride has not served my ex nor me well.

Regardless of who I end up, I’ve decided to choose her over my pride.

Pride enables you to say, But at least I was right, to an empty room.

And I tell you from experience that there’s no more deafening an echo than that.

Location: in front of a nice warm cup of espresso
Mood: busy
Music: love is stronger than…it’ll serve you longer than pride

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Cowboys

Aren’t most friendships finite?

I’ve been stuck here for a bit. Don’t ask. But it reminds me of something from a while ago.

One of my closest friends in college was a guy named Crawford who was a god at meeting women – he was (a) good-looking, (b) charming and (c) shameless. We had a blast for two years.

He told me a story once. He said that real cowboys were hired, maybe five to eight at a time, in one state to drive cattle to the other end of the country. This bunch of guys was thrown together for months at a time and, during this time, they were each others’ friends, doctors, entertainers, cooks and guardian angels. They needed to keep each other sane and safe to get the job done.

And once the job was done, they separated. No emails, faxes, phone calls, letters. Just onto the next job.

The question Crawford posed to me was: were they truly friends? Is there such thing as friendship when there’s a finite ending?

What about when two lovers separate – was there any love really there?

My answer to all is yes.

Because at some point everything ends. Life will take everything and everyone you love. There is nothing you can touch that you won’t lose at some point down the line.

Five months, fifty years, the time doesn’t make it any more or less real.

I take solace in that.

At some point, these people I loved, once loved me. It’s sad when relationships end but goodbyes are always sad.

Crawford and I both moved here to the big city. We met up once but then I never saw him again.

He was a good friend.

Location: @ 7:10 AM, taking the east side local
Mood: optimistic
Music: Its such a shame, Always ends the same

Fly, baby, fly…

A bird fell out of the sky and into my NYC backyard

It beyond cold the other day. I woke up and heard a thud in my back yard.

I was pissed because people are always tossing things into my area, but I looked in and saw that a pigeon had just up and dropped outta the sky and into my yard.

Poor bastard.

Just stared at it for a while before I finally went back there to remove it.

Not the best way to start the day but, I gotta admit, my day was better than the bird’s. I’m hoping he was just old and it was his time.

My sister took the above picture over the summer. I decided that it was a better picture to post than one of the dead bird.

Always be positive, that’s what I say – there’s enough sadness to go around.

Fly, baby, fly…

Location: @3PM, bumping into an old friend off Grand Street
Mood: happy
Music: slippin, slippin, slippin, into the future

Leftovers

Splitting cellular phone plans is like signing divorce papers

(c) Postsecret

Saw my ex the other day. We split up our mobile plan; so comically modern – it’s today’s equivalent of signing divorce papers for domestic partners.

It would be funny if it…well…if it just weren’t.

Not one kind word was spoken by either of us. Not one.

She looks like the woman I once loved; I’m sure I looked like the man she once loved. But we’re both not; just shells that can’t even manage to smile.

The above pic summaries perfectly her sentiment as to what went wrong. Who am I to disagree? I know what I am.

When we broke up, I ate my bones and chewed on my heart. Then I had leftovers for @#%^&$! months.

I’ve been seeing a few people; I had drinks with someone just last night. There is this one girl with eyes like faded jeans that I can’t get out of my head, though.

Finished those leftovers months ago; I’m ready for something new.

Location: @12:20, Duane Reade buying cures
Mood: thoughtful
Music: Someday you’re going to get hungry and eat most of the words you just said

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My luck’s like a button

Why you shouldn’t buy random women drinks

I rarely, if ever, buy a girl a drink.

Something about that whole process I find gives the guy the short end of the stick. The times when I am asked by a girl to buy her a drink, I always say the same thing, “I buy my friends drinks, which you could be but are not yet, and the women I date drinks…same deal.”

Met another girl, L, recently that I’ve been orbiting around for the past two months. My friend Jon was in town and L said we should meet up with her and her friends. The friends happened to be three other guys.

That’s five guys for one L, for the mathematically challenged.

I just spent the time catching up with Jon.

Pretty soon L comes up to me and we talk a bit. She wants a drink. I tell her that she has a job to do now: she has to get drinks from any other guy in the bar except me but spend the rest of the night with me.

She says she’s on it.

She manages to get several drinks in exchange for a few minutes of chit-chat while Jon and I are laughing to ourselves.

To top it off, she slides me a drink or two and we later slip into the back and spend a bit of time together.

Moral: Only buy your friends drinks.

Otherwise, you’re just buying a guy like me a drink.

Location: -15, bathroom, getting the sleep out
Mood: contented
Music: My luck’s like a button, I can’t stop pushing it

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Finding out

Moving on from the breakup

That’s my houseplant, Harold. He keeps mostly to himself.

———-

Bought a new bed about four months ago.

Stopped making two cups of coffee every morning about three months ago.

Stopped thinking about her constantly about two months ago.

Last week we finally split up our phone plans (more on that later).

Just bought new linens and sheets.

I’m moving on.

But her shelves are still bare. Her side of the medicine cabinet is still empty. The spot where her desk used to be is still open.

The thing is, they’re not empty for her.

Tuesday night, I gave in and called one of those women I said I wouldn’t. Something about the weather I guess. Last night, we met up and were out for eight hours in the first real NYC snow of the year. Laughed harder than I have in months.

Maybe nothing.

Maybe something.

Who knows?

Let’s find out.

Location: @3:03 AM, hopping a cab on 9th St & 3rd Ave.
Mood: Working
Music: in the faces you see, you’ll see just who you’ve been

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