On (or Close to) Schedule
Met another young lady tonight.
Asked her what we the most difficult part about dating in the big city.
Her: I’d have to say the disappointment. I keep hoping this time’ll be different…
Me: Huh. (pause) Funny you say that…
Huh.
See you Tuesday guys, be safe.
Location: 12AM Columbus, having this conversation
Mood: thoughtful
Music: circles. Confusion. Is nothing new?
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Argh! Camera Obscura is playing live and free tonight at the South Street Seaport at 8PM.
Was planning to stay in tonight for the first time in months just to prep for the exam but these guys are so awesome.
Should I go? Man, I’m so torn…
Location: about to run out the door
Mood: confused
Music: I’ve got my life of complication here to sort out
A Black Swan is an unforeseen event that makes a huge historical impact. The assassination of Franz Ferdinand, 9/11, and the rise of dot coms are considered Black Swans.
But we all have our own personal Black Swans, yeah? Those events that changed everything about our lives completely unexpectedly?
The ex moved out a year ago this week.
I recorded the above video for my brother after I got back from Baltimore and saw that she, and all her stuff, was gone (nothing risqué; trust me, totally SFW).
I used the spatula to make myself a peanut butter and orange marmalade sandwich. I sat in my empty living room and thought, Well, this is gonna suck. And it did. Really bad.
But it doesn’t anymore. When I do think of a girl, she’s not the one I think of. I never would have believed it.
Time and tide changes everything.
Note to self: If you ever live with a chick again, do not throw out your utensils just because hers matches.
Life is good.
Location: -20 mins, on Broadway, picking grapefruit
Mood: grateful
Music: My heart was broke, my head was sore, what a feeling
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Right now, I have two major distractions from my daily ruminations on insomnia, girlies, scratch, and the accident:
Regarding point one, and without getting into details, I’ve demanded that they write in bold letters in my account notes: We have screwed this man blue (they actually wrote, Client is justifiably upset with our level of service).
Could hate them more – I just don’t see how.
Regarding point two, my kitchen is like the DMZ. I’ve got baits, traps, poisons, and at least one Rube Goldberg/Tom & Jerry contraption – all of which, I think are just amusing them.
Mouse1: What’s that?
Mouse2: He put out peanut butter.
Mouse1: SWEET!
Mouse2: No, it’s that healthful crap. The kind where the oil and stuff separate…
Mouse1: What the @#$! is wrong with that guy? He needs to get some sleep.
Swear those little bastards are drinking my rum too.
Location: 7PM, yesterday, The PIT
Mood: busy
Music: Get on the highway point yourself my way
Looked for Selene in the blue sky today. I didn’t see her.
I know I’ve picked up a bunch of new readers and I’m sorry that I’m not more entertaining at the moment.
My insomnia and hand shaking has returned with a vengeance, recent events – both open and secret – have kinda brought me down.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m very grateful I’m alright. Very.
The hand of God is in all things.
But I sometimes I feel like I take a step forward and two steps back all the time, you know?
Do you know where the word, tantalize comes from? There’s this myth where this dude Tantalus, cursed to be thirsty, bends to a stream to drink, only to have it recede just beyond reach. Cursed to be hungry, reaches for an apple, and the branches pull back.
Never go more than a week without a sleepless night. Last week, I slept. Last night, it started again. It’s ever the same. Two weeks now. I know it.
I hate it.
And it’s killing me bit by bit. Absolutely…breaking me.
Not at once. Just a little at a time.
OK, I’ll stop. Emo – just learned the term recently. Sorry. Working through a few things.
Above, the ever popular and lovely KT Tunstall again for your entertainment.
You cannot buy love. You cannot buy sleep. But red, red rum…that you can have for $10 a glass. And YouTube is free.
Friday the 13th. Of course.
I’ll be back on Monday after I’ve bent some time.
See you then.
Location: my red couch
Mood: still freaked out
Music: And now I’ve got a hole for the world to see
But I don’t want to go among mad people, Alice remarked.
Oh, you can’t help that, said the Cat, we’re all mad here. I’m mad, you’re mad.
How do you know I’m mad? said Alice.
You must be, said the Cat, or you wouldn’t have come here.
Sometimes I have nice dreams.
Unfortunately, it’s rare because of my insomnia – and when I’m awake, I feel like I’m sleepwalking. But I daydream a lot.
And sometimes, my daydreams are just as real and just as nice when I’m up as when I sleep. I spend a lot of time in my head, you see.
An ex once told me that when she and I lived in the same neighborhood, she used to walk to my building, sit on my stoop, and whisper, Come out, come out…let’s have some fun.
The times I did randomly come out, she thought she had magic.
In my head, she doesn’t hate me, and I don’t hate myself, for how I treated her.
And, in my head, my other ex is wrong and my insides do match my outsides.
But you can never change what another person does or thinks. Only yourself. I know that.
Still, being ambulatory for 18 hours a day means that I spend a lot of time there. In my head, I mean.
I know, I know – what if I get stuck there? I suppose large polite men in clean white coats will take me away. Funny, sometimes I think I’m just one more sleepless night away from that. I’ve been up for…I don’t know how long now…
Hey, you’d visit me, yeah?
Shake your head with that, “Oh, so sad, he had so much promise,” look on your face before you shuffle off?
But sometimes I wonder, which way is worse.
Because, you see, in my head, I’m quite happy.
Michel Gondry said, I dream a lot, but I’m not a very good sleeper.
I love that. The knowing that it’s not just me.
Come out, come out…let’s have some fun…
Location: physically, an ugly hotel bed in 14202, mentally…
Mood: awake
Music: one more, you’re nuts
Had a really late night (again). Scrambling to catch up. Insanely busy.
Last part of 72nd to Canal above – so sad. Pimp us!
Met a designer as well as a writer last night. Interesting. The writer’s a non-NJ, non-pescetarian/vegetarian, local girl that’s under 5’7″.
Well now, wonder what that means?
No time to figure it out now.
Location: @3AM, on 5th Ave and 48th Street
Mood: insanely busy
Music: Shucks, for me there is no other You’re the only shoe that fits
Thanks to everyone for watching our 72nd to Canal and spreading the word. We really appreciate it!
Met three women tonight at a party I went to with Hazel. One is a story for much later, if at all. The other two:
Brooklyngirl
Her: She your girlfriend?
Me: No dear, I love someone who doesn’t love me.
Her: Whoa, that’s a lot of…(hic).
Me: Excuse me?
Her: Sorry, I have the hiccups.
So, because I was pretty lit, I put my rum down, turned and kissed her.
Her: (surprised) Why’d you do that?
Me: Are the hiccups gone?
Her: (pause, laughing) Yes.
Me: Well then, you can buy me another rum then.
Dancergirl
Me: So you’re from New Jersey? Are you a vegetarian?
Her: I’ve NEVER been asked that before. No, but would it matter?
Me: (shrugging) Not even close.
Her: So what’s your story?
Me: I’m a pretty, straight boy in NYC looking to drink until I forget things. You?
Her: (thinking) I’m a pretty, straight girl in NYC looking to drink. Buy me one?
Me: No. I’m not that guy. But I’m good for other things.
Her: Like what?
I would say more but let’s leave it to your imagination.
Location: about to get ready to run in park
Mood: sleepy
Music: If I don’t get some shelter, oh yeah, I’m gonna fade away
Met a nice girl recently. She lives…quite far away. Thus, no shiny future for the two us. Sad, really.
Still, another pretty friend in the world is nothing to shake a stick at.
And we both know that I’m the type of guy just that’ll just up and go someday.
Let’s have a code, you and I; should I ever just leave suddenly, I’ll post Gone Fishing!
Nothing else.
Then you’ll know.
You’ll know I cashed in those miles, packed my bags, sold the car, gave away Harold and the fish, and left. I’d be elsewhere.
Actually, I’d bring Harold.
I think he’d like to see the world too.
Location: nowhere special
Mood: cloudy
Music: I’m tired of whys choking on whys Just need a little because
Going to post a lot this week because of 72nd to Canal. If you can help us pimp it out in any way, that’d be much appreciated.
Above is Episode 1, part 1 – the rest are coming along.
Had quite the weekend; I was out every night except for Sunday. Saturday, I was at the same roof-deck, with the same friends as in one of my very first posts. Wow, I was chatty then. No rum, so I got a little sick. That, and I think I ate my body weight in carbs.
Sunday, I ran into an old friend I’d not seen in years after church. He’s the fourth guy I know going through a breakup. Must be something in the NYC water supply.
Or maybe, like I thought, it’s just spring cleaning.
I was wrong, this summer is a lot like last summer.
This week, I’ve got plans every night single night of the week. Some professional, mostly just social.
Well, at least I’m not bored.
Location: my own apartment, thankfully
Mood: exhausted
Music: I can’t seem to get you off my mind