Voting Day

After a breakup, nothing makes sense

Went to vote today.

The joint was totally empty and a bunch of tired old people stood, smiled and shuffled me around when I arrived. It’s always cool to vote. It’s easy for me because my polling station is just across the street from my pad. I went in my pajama top and a pair of jeans and sneakers.

Whom I voted for is less important than the fact I did.

In my personal life, the ex and I spoke again last night for quite a while. Not sure what I should do about that whole thing. Not even sure what it all means.

When it comes down to it, miss being in love.

Man, I’m such a sap. And here I am voting in the most powerful country in the world.

They should have a screening process to keep out the saps.

Location: @4:00 – pulling levers
Mood: Working
Music: This is a message, pay attention
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Goal-oriented

Calling up an ex is never a good idea

Empty subway station in NYC

Gave my ex a ring the other day, which was painful.

Then she picked up – that was excruciating.

But it did make me realize that I’m actually enjoying being single. It’s been just under three months now (I’ve stopped counting so I’m not sure).

At the very least, I wash a lot less clothes and dishes.

Since this is also the first time I’m not sharing a kitchen with someone in over a decade, I forgot the simple pleasure of the whole drinking out of the carton experience in front of the fridge.

I also have something I never had in 11 years of NYC living – closet space.

If only I could find that damn blue sweater I love.

I’ve got to travel upstate this week (again) but when I come back, I think I’m going to buy the Sunday NY Times, a huge cup of coffee and a chocolate doughnut and then lie down in the middle of the room and make a royal mess.

It’s always good to have goals.

Location: @6:30, showing off the ‘hood.
Mood: Pensive
Music: Demain, le crime en vacances, va se croire tout permis
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Catching a cab uptown

Met this young lady out-and-about and said exactly the wrong things

Indie band playing in Brooklyn

Saturday night, I went out to see a band play in Brooklyn, which ended up being hella fun. Course, had to up and ruin the night for myself.

Everything was going fine until we hopped a cab back into the City and ended up at a pizza joint downtown. I sitting to the side and when this very attractive blond comes in and sits down next to me. I’m not sure how we started talking but I find out that she’s from Florida, works with on a network program and is recently divorced. Somehow got her to also trade driver’s licenses with me and I realize that she’s six years younger than me. And divorced! Crazy.

We’re chatting a bit more and then she tells me that she’s going to eat more pizza. Scoff and tell her that women always think they can eat a lot but they never can, to which she tells me, “I can eat you under the table.” She goes and gets another slice and it’s just then my friends decide to leave. When she gets back, I’ve got my jacket on. Here’s the rest of the conversation:

Her: Oh, you’re leaving?
Me: Yeah, my friends are going.
Her: Do you go everywhere your friends go?
Me (wait for it): Well, we’re catching a cab uptown so, yes.

*sigh*

Did take down her number and I’m debating if it’s worth calling her at this point.

Oh who am I kidding – I’m calling…

20061024 UPDATE – Check that; I’ve lost her number.

I’m my own worst enemy.

Location: @8:15 – half breath, sight, pull
Mood: Silly
Music: the colors mix together to grey and it breaks her heart
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Eye Rolls

Sometimes your friends hinder rather than help in meeting new people

I can’t believe it’s Sunday already. It’s been a pretty busy week.

Wednesday night I saw the film My Life…Disoriented but it’s actually only a 26 minute television show that will be showing on PBS on December 26, 2006. It was actually pretty good. I remember that when I went there, I was worried because I was only one of about seven people in the audience but then it started filling up with people (although it was still only half full). It was an interesting story about two girls that move from San Fran to a small town where there are few Asians. Afterwards, there was a Q&A; discussion that I felt was really helpful for the show that Rain and I are working on. Afterwards, we went to the afterparty where I met the main writer and a few of the stars, including the main girl who, despite playing a convincing high-schooler, assured me she was a lot older – it was funny because within ten minutes of talking to her, she told me that she had a steady boyfriend in Taiwan (who’s Jewish but studying there). I thought that was amusing.

Kirk came by afterwards and then so did Rain. They asked me, as a dare, to ask the bartender for her number, which I did and got. Nice enough girl but not my type. I got home just after one, walking home from 58th and 1st. Interestingly, it was the same place that Alan had his Xmas party and I went with No. 6. Oddly enough, I didn’t really think of her there.

On Thursday I went to the German meetup in Queens with Francis, who called me up late and asked if I wanted to grab a beer with him. I told him I was going to Queens anyway and would give him a lift back. We went to this cool beer garden in Astoria where we ate some burgers and a sausage and drank some beer. Francis wasn’t really into it so we left early and I went home.

Friday I spent the entire day working. Korean-girl called me on my mobile, I think a little tipsy, and asked me when I was visiting her in Europe. I would like to travel but the timing isn’t good.

I drove into the city where I met up with Rain and Kirk again for a bar party. It was fun and I met a lot of people including another girl named Olivia. Two in three days and zero for three decades. Weird.

Last night, I met up with Rain and Kirk again. I was in Rain’s neighborhood because Big Dave was in town and he, his wife and his mother were in Little Italy going to the Feast of San Gennaro. I went after going to the gym and met up with them; the crowds there were almost impossible. Afterwards, Rain and I went to Pho Bang near his house – ate way too much. Cindy called me and we all met up, along with Kirk, at a bar on 2nd Ave between 12th and 13th.

The crowd there was kinda lame – the quantity of people, the layout, the humidity and the volume of the music made it unpleasant to hang out. I did meet one nice girl but a friend of mine made it difficult to talk more with her via two moves my friend made (the weird thing is, I actually just wanted him to snap out of his depression and just get used to talking to people).

Move 1
He went up to his friend and essentially said, “My friend (me) wants to meet your friend (her).” So it was essentially a non-introduction because he made it such that there were only three options and results:

  1. Talk to her, reinforcing that I really wanted to meet her but was too shy to ask myself thus tanking any conversation
  2. Don’t talk to her, reinforcing that I was too shy to ask myself but really wanted to meet her thus tanking any conversation
  3. Talk to her and we have a good conversation because she thought I was interesting or cute.

It may have ended up being “3” (purely by luck and because she’s just a nice girl) because I just rolled my eyes, sighed and talked to her.

Move 2
She invited us to go to a bar afterwards but he killed that too because he said he wanted to go – and guys have to stick together. So eye roll number two, and we’re off.

Oh well, moving onĀ¦

Ricky had called me previously so I met up with him, Kathy, Edgar, Esther and a bunch of other people at Ave A and 6th at another karaoke bar. It’s always good to see them. Such a good group of guys. Kathy had encouraged me to ask for the number of the girl that lives around me but I told her last week that I was too depressed to contact her but now I wish I took her advice. As Gio says, “What’s wrong with meeting someone for a cup of coffee?”

So true.

Bettina had called me (or vice versa – we’ve been playing phone tag) at 4 in the morning. I was exhausted but I’m always happy to hear from her. She’s got drama of her own with her own random guy issues. I wanted to talk to her more about it but I was beat so I told her I would call her today.

Today I woke up, thought about No. 6, chatted with Hazel and then took the train to my improv class. Great time as usual.

I just took another PHQ-9 test – scored a 5. Hmm, things are looking up.

Location: Apartment, as usual
Mood: exhausted
Music: we’ve got stars directing our fate
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Wash, lather, repeat

Getting back into the dating world

So, what’s your name pretty lady? (smile, nod, ask if she gets hit on a lot, compliment her (eyes, skin, hair, etc.) ask for number, promise you’ll call, smile again, wash, lather, repeat).

“Olivia, that’s a great name. You’re the first Olivia I’ve ever met. It’s true. Really. Is that really your number? You’re pretty but you lie. I’m going to call it now. (grin – if she smiles at you, smile back. Hate self.).”

At least I’m impressing my friends, like a trick monkey.

Ah, I’ll meet you someday, just you wait. Fate will find you. I’m just working through a few things.

Just you wait.

Location: Bed
Mood: cynical
Music: She does not walk she runs instead
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Not Me

Yes, but it is not I

St. Augustine was a guy who lived a pretty sordid life until he found God. He was walking down the street one day and he ran into a prostitute he used to frequent and she called out to him, “Augustine, it is I.” To which, he replied without stopping, “Yes, but it is not I.”

So I have now been single for 31 days. I woke up yesterday after seven hours of sleep and went into the bathroom and looked at myself and I saw a face I hadn’t seen in years look back me. Last night, I slept for another seven hours.

Today I went to see my doc and I took something called the PHQ-9 test, which is basically a test of depression. 30 days ago, my score was 24 out of a possible 27 meaning I was pretty baked. 15 days ago, I scored 19.

Today I scored 6.

I once wrote that I had been here before and I had. Back then, took about a month to get past the worst of it and another four months to get back the remaining bits and pieces. In between that time, I knitted myself back together again (literally and figuratively). I know from past experience that I’m most likely going to fluctuate between a 3 and a 9 over the next several months, because that’s what happened last time. But that overall feeling of sadness is gone. That’s the good news.

The bad news is that I’m not sure who I am any more. I’m not really sure I ever knew. The last time around, after I picked myself up, I was just a patchwork of pieces. Even No. 6 said I wasn’t ready for a relationship yet and maybe if I listened to her, we’d be happy right now. She once wrote that “It’s like dating two people and I never know which one will come home.” One of these two, she called a “monster” because he was always irritable, tired and moody.

It’s not so much like a split personality where you don’t know what the other you is doing, rather, it’s like when you’re intoxicated: You know what you’re doing but sometimes you don’t know why you’re doing it.

It’s easier for me to know who I am when I’m with someone because I can always blend into the other person – like Samanderic from Lord of the Flies. My college friends always joked that I have a million jobs and a million interests. But it’s not so much that – rather it’s my need to be able slip in and out of work and lives. And when I can’t slip in and out easily, like this past month, I stutter and stall.

I waited a day to write this just in case it was just gas, but no, I’m good again. I’m not great, I’m not whole, I’m still a bit busted up and dented in places, but I’m back.

I just don’t know who’s back.

I guess I’ll figure that out as I adjust to single life. I’m going to work on clarifying what I do and who I am in the next several (weeks? months? years?)

I started some projects, one of which will be a proper blog that will replace this one (yes, Nadya, you have to come with me) but I’ll continue to update here until that new blog is in place.

I’m back, but it is not me.
Location: @12:34 – Scoring a 6 on 71st Street
Mood: relieved
Music: I’m free
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