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personal

Look at the time

I’ll be 34 soon

Just walked in the door from drinks with Nadi, who always makes me laugh, even when I’m as sick as a dog. As I’m sobering up, I hope I didn’t say too much but I’m sure I did. Something else for some other time. She’s looking for something too. I wish I could help her find it.

As for me, I’ll be 34 shortly, so I present three separate conversations from people I met recently:

Her: Oh you went to Cornell too?
Me: Yep, class of 1993.
Her: (pause) I think I was in first grade then.
Me: (sigh) I think that’s my phone…

Her: 1993?
Me: Yeah, why?
Her: (counting) Man, I was nine then.
Me: (sigh) Dark rum on the rocks with a slice of orange. Keep ’em coming.
Her: (pause) We don’t have oranges
Me: Of course.

Him: You graduated high school in 1990?
Me: Yep.
Him: (pause) Wow, that’s when I was born.
Me: (sigh) Look at the time…
Him: (confused) Dude, you’re not even wearing a watch.

But I still know what time it is.

Location: @2:32 AM, spilling secrets on 72nd with an old friend and new
Mood: sick
Music: And feel over the rainbow

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personal

Morning Glory

So, what’s your story, morning glory; what makes you look so blue?

The beauty of never having drunk seriously since high school is that I’ve managed to (I think) look better than my age and have not a gut.

The flip side of it is that I’m meeting up with inebriated Logan again for the first time since 1995.

And he’s got stuff to say.

I’m already fairly friendly and outgoing when I’m sober. Drunk, I’m your best friend.

So, what’s your story, morning glory; what makes you look so blue?

Location: @3AM, sloshing home
Mood: mellow
Music: I’ll take myself to an east coast city and walk about

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personal

Bits

My day started off at 5AM when my windows flew open because of the wind, freaked the snot out of me, and dumped my bed with dirt.

Sitting there in the dark covered with debris in the howling wind, I thought, Yeah, sure, that’s about right.

And that’s the thing about my life – like everyone else’s I suppose – the misery bits are layered with the ridiculous bits.

Case-in-point: Blue Jean Eyes loved Mac & Cheese so I went out and bought a freezer full of various types because, well…ok, I have no explanation. I just did.

However, since we just parted ways, my last five meals have all had something to do with mac & cheese (eg: mac & cheese with a sandwich, mac & cheese with soup – you get the point).

Since I’m counting, my last four dates/relationships were with pescetarians from New Jersey.

Note to self: Stop dating pescetarians from New Jersey.

Time to microwave dinner. Wonder what’s on the menu…

Location: @2PM, shivering in Queens
Mood: dirty
Music: she takes my breath away Pretending that she don’t miss me

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personal

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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personal

Another new year…

With increased intelligence comes increased capacity for pain

Arthur Schopenhauer said something like: with increased intelligence comes increased capacity for pain.

Tend to agree with that.

Feeling some trepidation about New Year’s approaching. You see, my ex’s older sister was born on December 31st so we always had standing plans for New Year’s.

Hell, I’ve always had standing plans – women seem to like mad rakes.

This year, I’ve no plans, really.

That bothered me a little. Just a bit. There are two people I would like to get to know better and I’m so tempted to try but I know it would just end badly because I’m such a basketcase right now. They deserve better than that.

So I never call them.

Had lunch with a friend yesterday and she too is going through a breakup (must be something in the water). She decided to cut him off but says it’s hard. I told her about the Schopenhaer quote and she agreed that she should push through.

I’m great with the whole giving of advice.

Taking it’s a whole different matter.

Location: @7:20, on 39th Street playing Crazy Eights
Mood: confused
Music: Ten years older and I’ve finally found my pride
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Notes to Self

Tequila is not your friend; rum is your friend

It started going downhill when Mikey bought a round.

  • Post a pic and edit this entry tomorrow.
  • Rum is your friend.
  • Tequila is not your friend.
  • Buy a new hat.
  • Tequila is not your friend.

I feel terrible.

However, I did manage to find my hat. Also made another related post and an unrelated post.

Location: at home, drinking lots of water
Mood: Thirsty
Music: The devil is alive I feel him breathin’

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Moving along

I’m moving plenty but not getting anywhere.

It’s been a pretty interesting set of days.

On Tuesday, I met up with an old business partner at The Iroquois Hotel at 49 West 44th Street. It was for Cruzan Rum roll-out of their new Seven Year Rum and their purchase by Absolut Vodka. It was a pretty killer private dinner (there’s a picture in my vanity section) – it started with a beet salad with Gorgonzola, then an entree of filet mignon, and then a dessert of poached pears. So good. It was nice being in a business environment again – it was also nice eating food I didn’t have to unwrap first.

I also met up with my headshrinker friend. He owns this huge seven-story apartment in mid-town and it looks like a classical Japanese building from the inside – so cool. You could walk by it a million times and not know what it looks like inside. It’s the nicest building in Times Square, IMHO. We used to live there after college; it was a long time ago. We were poor but we had a great time.

I had dinner with a good female friend last night and things happened that should or should not have happened. I’m still trying to figure that part out. I think she is too.

Two other weird women related things happened today too:

  1. I met this girl at the bookstore and we were just chatting innocently enough when her boyfriend appeared and was obviously very steamed. I wanted to say, “We were just talking,” but he left before I could say anything. She just rolled her eyes and said, “That’s my crazy boyfriend.” I think I said something like, “I could tell” but I don’t remember.
  2. Right afterwards, I was walking down 20th where there’s a shooting range. I was meeting a friend that shoots there and there was this small Asian girl there, which I thought was strange. I started talking to her and we exchanged contact information. I thought she was just someone visiting someone else until she whipped out this huge (I mean, gi-NORMOUS) .357 revolver and proceeded to absolutely kill a paper target,which I assumed had insulted her previously in some manner

Yesterday I walked from 192nd Street and Broadway to 128th Street and Amsterdam. Today I walked from Delancy and Allen Streets to 20 West 20th Street.

I’m moving plenty but I don’t think I’m getting anywhere.

Location: @ 2:something – on a couch in a Cafe @Allen&Delancy;
Mood: Content
Music: you ain’t keeping me up all night no more

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personal

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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