June 2006 Archives
The dilemma I face when I'm home and avoiding responsibilities: to buy the PS 1 summer season pass or not? I think I went a grand total of twice last year, but going halfsies with someone wouldn't make it too bad. (Like my mom likes to say, the less time I spend in bars, the more money I'd save. Should we let her know I'm not in bars that much anymore because I'm too busy chained to my desk? I don't think she believes it anyways.) Though it's still hard as hell to get there for my house. We shall see.
Dilemma #2: when shall I plan my weekend trip to Chicago for? Original plan was to go mid-July, but yeah...ain't happening. (You know what's sad, I work so much now that I was actually really beat about having two days off for the holiday because that was two less days to build into the production schedule, which is gonna make this week a bitch and a half! Help, I'm a pod person!) I guess I'm waiting until August now. I need some sort of activity to plan my trip around. Paging David the Chicago social director!
In general, I'm having a really bad month, but I'm trying to look on the bright side when I'm not mewing. Ever been like exhausted on multiple levels? It sucks. I also got the "I think of you as a really good friend," not as stinging as "I think of you like a sister" (Thank God. That one is like the basis of justifiable homicide or something), but saddening and infuriating all at once. I think I'm hitting crazy depressed cat lady territory. Mew. I blame the rain. Umm can I get a dose of wild and exciting summer stat?
|Your Personality Profile|
You are shy and intelligent... and a very hard worker.
Help, it's 80,000 degrees in my apartment. The cat and I are considering laying on the floor in front of the AC to sleep at night. And it's only June, so August is gonna be a real blast. Sigh.
Thursday was one of those old school nights (where old school means like two years ago) in terms of just simply being out and about. It was nice to leave work on or close on time and I went off to the special "Arrivederci, Mr. Daily Heights!" happy hour. Without him and the site, my neighborhood social life would be a lot different I'm sure. Post that, I was off to meet friend C somewhere in NYUcountry and partake in free spirits. The journey continued to Aaron's party where he practically cheered when I said the blog was as good as half dead. Tsk, tsk. I think I've finally found my motivation to write more, y'all!
I was caught up in a nostalgic moment leaving there and went to Sapph for the first time in forever. What a waste. Nothing there even remotely appeals. Between that, Rothko closing, and more scary pubs than you can shake a stick at, I'm ready to just to declare that part of town a wasteland and not go back . Not that I've been there much in the past couple of years anyways, but you know.
After all that, I went across town to the 8th Circle of Hell a.k.a. The Meatpacking. Did you know they charge $3 for hot dogs from a cart in that neighborhood? Utter bull. Shudder. Did I really used to hang out around there all the time? That's how I feel just about everywhere in town lately. Did I used to hang out in this space when it was Tapis Rouge and now these bitches are selling pimp juice for $5? Lame, lame, lame. Now that going there has become a novelty, I can totally just write Manhattan off as a waste of time generally. Except for $1 vodka drinks at Lit and open bars. There's always time for that.
I met up with the lovely Claudia and her friend at a place I probably never would've wandered into on my own when we discovered we were about a block away from each other. Dude was gorgeous, smart, funny, with an actual career, and 25 years old. Er where are those guys in Brooklyn? I'll trade my infinite supply of 28, I mean 27, year old artists for a guy my age who has his shit together. Not that a guy like that would be interested in me anyways. Meh. I'm not as bitter as I might sound, but I'm going through a frustrating period. Guys. Can't love them and can't kill them.
And then a trip to 419. God, that place is like forever perfect. Even with the sniffer assholes. I waited 10 years to get into the bathroom and out came a trio looking like the fiends they were. And what did I find on the mirror ledge when I went inside? A lost bag of sugar! And I trashed it with a toss. I considered being elaborate about it, sprinkling a path to the toilet and flushing it or whatever, but it wasn't worth the effort. I come out to seethe fiends waiting outside. I walked past and went back to the bar. They sit across from me and keep glancing my way. Finally one comes over.
"Did you see anything in the bathroom when you were in there?"
"Did you see something left behind in the bathroom?"
"No really, you can tell me. I won't get mad."
Blink. Sneer. "I don't know what you're talking about."
And he walked away. They kept looking at me from across the way and one stood up and went back to the bathroom to do a real search I suppose. They found what they were looking for and went dancing happily for the rest of the night. Pathetic.
Standing at the bar, I caught sight of this guy I knew who used to work there and the last I'd seen, had gone off to greener pastures. I expressed my confusion to the chattering guy sitting next to me and he said that dude was now the manager. Weird! I chatted with the guy and after all these years, he still remembered my old drink, a glass of Taylor's 10, and gave it to me on the house for old times' sake. I can't believe I used to slide up in there drinking port all the time. Times sure change! But, it is nice to be remembered.
In my slight hiatus, I've: worked and worked and worked (working until almost 1am on a Friday night is strangely not the bomb. Who knew?) and listened to music (James T Cotton and She Wants Revenge, ho!) and played silly games with the boy and became overtired and was a bit of a homebody for a while there and/or stayed in the confines of the B69 axis (going to Manhattan is like a novelty to me now. It's kinda amusing) and experimented with the camera on my new cell (Jay-V sees an invitation for seduction and I see the colossal grocery filled sized bags under my weary little eyes. Not to mention the chained to my desk diet working for me.).
To that end, I declared Saturday night would be the end all and be all to celebrate the homestretch of my insane period. My treat: banana bread, the special kind, sold only at the party I look forward to obsessively every month. I had imagined that the vibe would be on the chill side with all the little college brats disappearing for the summer. So just picture my face when I strolled up and found the line halfway down the block.
Still, I waited patiently and fought my way through the colossal amounts of people inside to get to the magic table. "Banana bread?" I said hopefully and the woman smiled at me to pull out the special baggie of heaven. I scurried off with my piece like a kid ending a candy store pillage and scarfed it in mere seconds. Magic? Magic now? Not quite. I think I feel something. Do I feel something? I dunno. I'm being neurotic and overthinking. I'm so in my head that I can't tell if it's working or not. Gah. Fuck this. I need this to work. I need another piece. Ever been utterly useless brainwise? That was me circa 2:30am. It rules.
Just my luck, I ran into a random from HS. I can say this is a kid I never really thought about at all, now or then. He was our grade stoner, nice enough in the less than 10 encounters I had with him in 6 years there. Only notable because I remember him being overly concerned with me leaving at the reunion a couple of years back. And here he was gushing about high school being the best years of his life and who he still hangs out with and vaguely reminiscing with me while moving steadily closer. I had a strange sense of worlds colliding interacting with the sheer potency working its way through me and mumbled a vague something before bolting further into party. Where I came face to face with the boy.
"I'm so happy to see you," I murmured, despite also remembering that we were in the middle of a days long freeze and still looking over my shoulder for HS weirdo. But, he smiled and came out with a string of apologies and I smiled too. Oh, young...distractions. And the smiles are short-lived against the typical push and pull. We wander our seperate ways.
I am conscious of music and spectacles and people through a distant fog. I'm feeding off the energy of the environment and just happy. I meander my way around and around and as things work, I run into the HS guy again. He talks to me near the scupture maze and I'm slightly surprised to find myself mindlessly chatting back. I feel a tap and see the boy's friend giving me a quizzical face with a side glance at the HS guy. I greet him warmly, while feeling annoyed and amused. The old cock block. He disappeared soon after and I bolted again after a few minutes when the bizarre vibes became too much again.
And I walked around and ran into the boy again. We danced and chatted and left for White Castle and the B48. Two wishy-washy people equals the constant push-pull. But, I know how to fix that. He later shakes his head at me and smiles despite himself. "You just do whatever you want to, don't you?" "Yes," I say with a smile. He knows he lives for it.