Categories
personal

Norwegian Wood

Waking up in Brooklyn and Hotel Logan

Me: So what’s your story morning glory? Why do you look so blue?
Her: (pause) Wow, does that line actually work?
Me: You’re talking to me, aren’t you?
Her: (pause, laughter)

Woke up somewhere in Brooklyn yesterday.

For details, just listen to Norwegian Wood. It’s accurate up to the part that goes I told her I didn’t; instead of lighting a fire, I watched Love Actually, instead of stumbling to the bath, I slept on her sofa and instead of her, I flew.

It was a fun night but something that Sabatoa posted popped in my head at 2AM.

I never think I should take what I can; I always think I should get what I want.

You know, I never got her name or number.

But she was 29. She had hazel eyes.

———-

My female friends often crash at my pad knowing they’re as safe as houses. The local doormen think I’m on a tear. We know the truth.

Her: I made it here without you having to carry me.
Me: That’s always a plus.
Her: (in sleepy German) Will you be here when I wake?
Me: I live here – where would I go?

Location: 7AM yest, Park Slope, Brooklyn
Mood: happy & pensive
Music: We talked until two And then she said It’s time for bed
Subscribe!
Like this post? Tell someone about it by clicking a button below.

Categories
dating personal

Biscuit?

Three dates

Blue Eyes

Me: (joking) You’re not a pescatarian are you?
Her: No.
Me: Good.
Her: I’m a Lacto-ovo vegetarian.
Me: (nodding slowly) Of course you are.

Brown Eyes

Her: I don’t think this is gonna work out.
Me: I’m surprisingly ok with that. (handing her a breadbasket) Biscuit?
Her: (shrugging) Sure.

I think I hate dating.

Green Eyes

Her: (after thinking) I liked that.
Me: That’s good. I may do it again.
Her: (pause) OK.

OK, fine, that last one was nice, but still…

Location: 8PM yest, going east on the LIE
Mood: better
Music: I really love your peaches wanna shake your trees
Subscribe!
Like this post? Tell someone about it by clicking a button below.

Categories
personal

Pets, Pt. II

Being friends with an ex comes with its own special baggage

Think I’m pretty much just feeding the mice at this point. They even keep eating all the poison bait I put out, with no effect.

Mouse1: Look, I like that he leaves us food on these shiny wood and metal plates. But, #$@#! That green stuff gave me a @#$@#! stomachache.
Mouse2: Why do you have to curse so much?
Mouse1: I’ve become inured to it as the expressive vocabulary of my society. It’s neither indicative of a belief nor of a value system.
Mouse2: (…)
Mouse1: (sighing, shaking head) I know, we totally gotta get outta this #$@#$@ joint.

May take one of No. 6’s cats. Besides the mouse issue, I miss having a pet that doesn’t swim in its own waste.

Unfortunately, my last conversation with her was decidedly unpleasant. While I like the thought of having a cat that I’m used to, I’m worried it’s gonna come with baggage.

No more baggage for this bright-eyed, bushy-tailed, Asian boy, thanx.

Plus, I’ve never had a little kitten before; that might be kinda cool.

But we’ll see.

Wonder how Harold’s gonna take it.

Location: PM yest., 26th Precinct, writing a check
Mood: still sick
Music: After all the b__s__ I’ve heard It’s refreshing
Subscribe!
Like this post? Tell someone about it by clicking a button below.

Categories
personal

This modern love

Modern love is like shelf-stable food; kinda real, mostly not

Note to self: 48 oz of black coffee with DayQuil in one sitting is way too much caffeine.

Way…too…much.

Pardon me as I curl up and shake myself to death.

———-

Actually posted a happy date story once. Of course that too went to hell but that’s neither here nor there. And I had two nice dates recently but one ended up as a figurative train wreck; the other, a literal car wreck.

A while back, I did see a girl I’ve was orbiting around for almost a year right before she got gone.

Me: Hey, just wondering if that invitation for lunch still open…
Her: Hi! (pause) Did you ever work through your things?
Me: (pause) In a manner of speaking.
Her: What does that mean?
Me: (thinking) There’s this river, Lethe, that the Greeks thought that, when you died, your spirit went there to drink from it so you could forget your former life and get on with your new one.
Her: Okaaay…creepy…and…
Me: (laughing) You’re trying to forget someone; I’m trying to forget someone. It’s like that song This Modern Love, Do you wanna come over and kill some time?
Her: (laughing) This has got to be worst invitation for a date I’ve had since junior high.
Me: I go for the superlative. (pause) So…you wanna come over and kill some time?
Her: (thinking) Sure.

Interestingly, in classical Greek, lethe could also mean the opposite of truth; the opposite of real.

This modern love is like lactose-free, shelf-stable, non-fat, non-dairy cream.

All the trappings of the real thing without a drop of it.

Not even a drop.

She’s a sweetheart. I hope she finds something someone real.

Location: no change, black chair
Mood: hopped up on OTC drugs & coffee
Music: modern love breaks me This modern love wastes me
Subscribe!
Like this post? Tell someone about it by clicking a button below.

Categories
personal

Red rum on the rocks with a slice of orange

“You awake?” she asked

Once again, I’m gonna ask you to send me soup.

Every time I go through these two week periods with little sleep and lots of work, I worry about getting sick. And then I get sick.

Dammit.

With nods to Sabatoa, Katsmw, Furison, and everyone who’s asked me this in real life – I have this conversation almost every weekend:

Him: Nasty. Why rum?
Me: I like the taste of a good aged rum, like a Cruzan or Montecristo. Plus it’s got the least amount of carbohydrates, acetaldehyde and congeners so you can drink buckets of the stuff and never get a gut, a hangover, or into a fight. (pause) Also, I like to pretend I’m a pirate – YAAARRRRRG!

———-

Her: (whispering) Are you awake?
Me: (sleepily) I’m always awake.

Location: back in my black chair
Mood: both sick & tired
Music: Around a quarter to two I have remembered all of my lines
Like this post? Tell someone about it by clicking a button below.

Categories
personal

A million ways to buy it

I started volunteering in my church

(c) AP Photo/Seth Wenig

I heard one guy died in that explosion. Sad.

The thing about living here, is that there’s a million ways to buy it in the big city.

When my accident happened, it was exactly like those VW commercials where two people are just chatting and a half-second later, BAM!

Your life can really change just like that.

I know a few people on the East Side, two in particular spring to mind. But we’ve lost touch. They’re all, by chance, part of the people I cut yesterday.

Just as well, what would I say?

Me: Hey, just calling to make sure you’re alive.
Her: I picked up the phone didn’t I?
Me: (pause) Yes. Yes, you did.

I’ve decided to start volunteering in my church.

I’m hoping it’ll balance out my Thursday thru Saturday drinking and womanizing.

Location: 7PM yest., 110 & Broadway, buying a slice
Mood: still maddeningly busy
Music: I hope you know That this has nothing to do with you
Like this post? Tell someone about it by clicking a button below.

Categories
personal

Got a pen?

I’m also meeting a lot of lesbians for some reason

In addition to the Swedish girls, I met a bunch of really attractive lipstick lesbians/bisexuals this past weekend.

Girl 1
Me: Why are you giving me your number?
Her: If you wanna call me, call me, if you don’t, f___ off.
Me: OK. Just to be clear, you mostly like the girlies, yeah?
Her: Yeah, and? (pause) Y’know, gimme back my f____ number.

Girl 2
Her: So what’s your story?
Me: I’m looking for Ms. Right in the big city.
Her: (laughing) Funny, so am I.

The second girl and I have swapped a few emails; she’s in a similar profession. She’s very nice – she’s also a full-on Jewish lesbian. I’m sure she’s a pescatarian from NJ too but I didn’t ask.

Seem to get along with girlies that like the girlies. Modern America.

In the book, Logan’s Run, I’d be 13 years post prime; in the movie, I’d be 4.

Either way, I’m last year’s model.

This week, because of the accident, I did some reassessing. I found out that I was deleted by some people.

And I deleted some people – friends, former loves, acquaintances and about two dozen people I’m embarrassed to say that I just don’t remember.

Some I’ve known for a few days and some I’ve known for 14 years.

I’ve blinked and it’s 2007.07.18. One of you should have called me to let me know that I’m an anachronism.

Sent an email. Even a text. Telegram, maybe?

Something.

———-

Speaking of telegrams, damn that AT&T.;

Here’s 2% of why I hate them; there’s another 98% I could tell you.

Location: 1PM yest., on the BQE to Staten Island
Mood: hella busy
Music: Just get to me I don’t care just get to me

Categories
personal

The little things Pt II

The little things make life that much better

Me: Actually, I bought a lottery ticket that night. I was sure I’d win.
Her: (laughing) I think you already used up your luck for the day.

The girl that was in the car with me politely told me that we probably wouldn’t be seeing each other again. I guess a car accident on a second date’ll do that.

That same day, I also realized I how much work I had ahead of me both with the car and with real work.

And to top it all off, I got onto the wrong train on my way to the junkyard to deal with my crashed car. Was going to waste at least an hour getting there now.

Little things, yeah. But we know that the little things mean a lot to me.

Pisser.

Then these three kids stepped into the subway car and started hitting everything around them with drumsticks.

Asked them if they would play me something. They did.

The little things almost ruined my day. Then again, a little thing saved it. The guy at the pound said I was a lucky boy. The doc said I was fine.

Later that night, I met four lovely ladies, three of whom were traveling from Sweden. The girl in the conversation above lives around the way. Also met some other people but those are stories for a different time.

Finally fixed my screen.

Perhaps best of all, I slept six hours that night.

Thank God for the little things.

Location: my black chair
Mood: less freaked out
Music: Can music save your mortal soul

Categories
personal

Sitting, Waiting, Wishing

Man is made by his belief. As he believes, so he is – Bhagavad Gita

Caligirl: …then there are the serial daters. The guys that are always out and about.
Me: If I were honest, I’d tell you that that’s what I’m afraid of. See, I’ve only ever been in long-term relationships. I never really dated. I think I secretly worried that I might be good at it.
Her: (turning) And?
Me: (laughing) You tell me.

——

Him: You don’t think it’s strange, to have a site with your name on it all about you? And all the stuff you write – who reads it? I mean, you’re just you. You’re just a regular dude. You’re not like a celebrity or anything.
Me: “Man is made by his belief. As he believes, so he is.
Him: What?
Me: (shrugging) It just means that in my head, I think I’m someone.

Location: still in front of this cracked screen
Mood: weird
Music: Must I always be waiting waiting on you?

Categories
business personal

Fancy meeting you here

I’m running into too many people I know

I’m away again.

After this past weekend, I’m actually slightly glad to be somewhere else.

I love my city, don’t get me wrong. But when you’ve lived in one place for, basically, your whole life, you’re bound to keep ending up at familiar places.

And running into old ghosts.

Him: So, are you a partner somewhere yet?
Me: Not so much. (pause) I’m writing, actually.
Him: Oh. That’s…cool. Are you and that girl married now?
Me: Well, she’s married. Not to me though. Kid any day now.
Him: Oh! (pause) Are you happy at least?
Me: (thinking) I’m happy in my head.

Location: 20 feet from the middle of nowhere
Mood: busy
Music: Who? I really wanna know Who are you?