the.applied.process.

Stand By Me

“So what’s the matter with you? Sing me something new. Don’t you know the cold and wind and rain don’t know, they only seem to come and go away.”

My week started great. Last Monday, on my day off, I repeated last week’s pattern to a point and met ‘Mexican Paddington’ and ‘The Queen of the Dammed’ for lunch at the same Korean fast food joint we had met 6 days prior. This time, I was much more relaxed. I hadn’t had my usual anxiety episode with ‘Nickle’ and things were going great.We made plans to meet later that night for couple’s dinner.

After lunch, I walked over to Smythson of Bond Street on 56th and 6th to purchase a 472 dollar Kelly green leather bound notebook for ‘The Cock of the North’. As I’ve mentioned, he’s leaving the city to move back home for health reasons, and me and my coworkers decided to get him something special. I then walked back with ‘Mexican Paddington’ towards his office but first we made a pit stop at Barney’s. I spent a pretty penny on four pairs of socks and was surprised at how my spending habits have changed. I was questioning the price of good design, and could not manage to be as careless as I was before and spend $300 on a shirt. What’s going on with me!? I suppose it’s a good thing, and I think it all has to do with dating ‘Nickle’. He makes me look at things from different perspectives and come up with new convictions.

I left Barneys and took a train towards Chelsea to go look for stuff for my Halloween costume. I got off the A train at Madison Square Garden and decided to walk over to the free clinic and get my usual check up. I had no specific reason to do so other than I wanted to eliminate the window period since last time I got tested so I could be as clean as a whistle for my man. Again, he makes me want to be a better person.

After reading about 30 pages of the book he’d lent me a few months ago, I got my results. Clean as a whistle indeed. I texted him a picture of my bandaged finger and told him the obvious news. I left the clinic and walked to some costume shops on 23rd street and scored more pieces for my ensemble.

Having a few hours to kill, I stopped by the movie theatre near Union Square to watch 50/50. It had been a while since the last time I had been to the movies by myself, and I’d forgotten how good it makes me feel. It is empowering. The movie, despite being great, was unbelievably depressing in so many levels. From the story itself to the production, I found myself getting sadder and sadder. It also made me think a lot about my babe because one drunken night I’d ask him how he felt about terminal diseases and he didn’t take it well. I, of course, do not want that for either of us, but I did think that no matter what, I’m sticking around. After all, I’ve always ended up being a good nurse to those close to me.

I left the theatre and walked to the art store to purchase more accessories for the weekend festivities. I ran into a couple of friends who coincidentally were going to join us for dinner, and told them I’d catch up with them later. As scheduled earlier that day, I met my papa at Urge for a couple of drinks before walking over to Peels.

Dinner was weird. It was really fun to hang out with everyone in different circumstances, last time ‘Nickle’ had met this group of friends it wasn’t the best, and I wanted to change that impression. The food, however, was horrible, and the service was even worse. After staying there long enough to close the place, we all decided never again. It was expensive, and other than the company, it was not something I’d ever want to repeat. The lesbians, ‘Mexican Paddington’ and ‘The Queen of the Dammed’, went home to have lesbian time. The boyfriend and I took the rest of the group to Swift for a few more drinks. We didn’t stay much longer. We had a few cigarettes and a few nice talks and left for my place. Bed ensued promptly.

Tuesday, having neglected my house guest the whole time she was here, I started my second day off by having brunch at Five Leaves with ‘Titi’ and then continued to look for the final touches of my last costume. Sadly, thrift store shopping proved futile and managed to disappoint me yet again. Instead, I put my college degree to use and went to the garment district, purchased three yards of tacky stretchy sequined fabric in different colors, and went home to make my outfit. For the parade I’m going to be one of 6 or 7 Richard Simmons hybrids (I’m thinking black face).

Later that evening, I had plans for dinner and a show with the babe. I sewed till the last minute and left my apartment around 7 pm. I met ‘Nickle’ and his friend in Union Square and we walked to Rai Rai Ken for some noodle yumminess. We then walked to Webster Hall, but realizing the show wouldn’t start for another hour, we continued walking to Phoenix for a pre-gig drink. A couple, literally, of ‘Nickle’s’ friends met us there and the night really began.

As mentioned, we had a show to catch so we only stayed for a bit. Then we returned to the venue for the performance. It was fun and funny both at the same time, and the thing I appreciated the most is that my love took the time to plan it out.

Wanting an unnecessary nightcap after the show, we marched to nowhere where we did just that. Have a nightcap. His friends left and we headed to Brooklyn. Another pit stop at The Abbey, another brief anxiety attack, and then we passed out.

Wednesday morning I woke up a bit hung over and spent from the attack. I went to work and had lunch with ‘Titi’ who was leaving later in the evening. My day was going really good, actually, despite my psychological issues, and for some reason shit just kept happening left and right. For instance, I found out that ‘Fixie’s’ man was breaking up with him (again!!), but had forewarned him via email. The man scheduled the break up! Also, ‘Jose Maria’ informed me he might have to move back to Greece in January because he hasn’t been able to find a job. A part of me wants to slap him! I am aware it’s hard, but not impossible, and to be frank, I think he’s just not really trying hard enough. Last but not least, it finally dawned on me that ‘The Cock of the North’ is leaving, and I’m having a slight problem readjusting to my new boss and the work ambiance.

That night I had plans with ‘Fixie’ to get wasted and blur the shit day he was having. ‘Nickle’ had said that he really wanted to see me, even if just for a bit, because he was feeling really good about us. Without a doubt I obliged. Like I mentioned, I was having a good day and I wanted to make it even better. He picked me up at the gallery and we walked to Solas for a few rounds. I hadn’t eaten, so I also ordered delivery whilst at the bar. ‘Fixie’ was going to call me when he was done with his ex and on his way to me. Surprisingly enough, he called me about half hour before expected and I rushed to meet him without any time to eat my freshly delivered food. I had invited ‘Nickle’ but he wanted me to have one on one with my friend, so he said he’d meet later.

We met outside my place to drop off our stuff and headed to The Abbey. We followed the plan we’d deviced and started drinking more and more, shots and beers, at a steady and constant pace. My babe met us after going home for a second and taking care of some personal business. When he got there I was clearly intoxicated. My head started fucking with me and I started having anxiety. What can I say? I really don’t know what to say… wish I knew how to change it (other than the obvious “don’t drink”).

For this instance, my anxiety revolved around being with my boyfriend and one of my best friends, two people who I love, and two people who I feel are way more relationship material than I am. I stupidly started convincing myself that it makes much more sense for ‘Nickle’ to be with someone like ‘Fixie’ who is more sane and can handle relationships better than I can… and it all went downhill from there. We eventually left and, in the confines of my apartment, I made my anxiety attack more public. Again, my babe calmed me down. Again, I felt stupid and feared that he one day will get sick of me. Again, I more and more firmly believe part of the anxiety has to do with a chemical imbalance. Again, I’m confused.

Thursday morning I woke up feeling a bit better. The night had passed, the anxiety was subdued, and after my almost-daily sexy time with my hon, I went to work. Again, he surprised me with plans for a play at BAM that night. He picked me up and, in the midst of a rainy day, we headed to Brooklyn. I was really tired and, although the play was lively and entertaining, I snoozed off a few times. Nevertheless, I was feeling better. I like having dates like this with my boy, dates where all we do is hang out just the two of us and do dinner and a movie, or some other cliche chain of events.

On that note, after the play we walked over to a cute little French restaurant a few blocks away and had a quaint little dinner. Escargot, beet salad, and fish, I believe. I wasn’t in a big plan of drinking because it’s been too tiring and taxing on my anxiety, and I want to keep it under control so that it doesn’t interfere with me and my babe but… I’m an alcoholic, and I’m also in a relationship that was about to turn a month old, so of course drinks ensued. First, we went to a bar a couple of blocks away, then I believe we went home, but we might’ve stopped by The Abbey. I wasn’t drunk, I just can’t remember.

Friday I had a relatively early day. I had to meet with ‘The Lady of Derbyshire’ for more filming of the Marfa documentary I’ve been helping her make. This time we interviewed the women in charge of Art Production Fund who sponsored the project. It was, as has the rest of the project been, a unique experience. Both girls were such characters. Their outfits, stark black and designer clad from head to toes, along with their strikingly straight hair, was a nice contrast to their welcoming personality. They were both superbly nice, and completely helpful and enthusiastic about the project, which was surprising considering it’s hard to come across people like that in the art world.

The interview ended at around noon. I called ‘Nickle’ since I was close to his work and met hit at his office where he introduced me to all his coworkers who, as expected, loves him and has heard wonders of me. I’m still not tired of this. We were going to grab lunch, but we didn’t due to lack of time. Instead he drove me to work.

The day went by ridiculously fast. That night, we had plans to meet at the office for some farewell cocktails for ‘The Cock of the North’. Not everyone who should’ve showed up did, but a couple who weren’t necessarily supposed come to came, and it all turned out nice. ‘Nickle’ met up at some point, because he wanted to say a proper goodbye to my boss. They’ve really hit it off right away, and it’s a shame we didn’t get to have more time to hang out ensemble.

I got a bit emotional. I drank myself stupid and reminisced on the days a year ago when I first started working here… Oh how I’ve grown with them.

One by one we all started leaving. I was given the task of making sure everyone left at an appropriate time. Despite being wasted, I believe I did a good job and, at around 11 pm, we were out and on our separate ways. Me and ‘Nickle’ went to The Abbey for a nightcap and then home. Just like a depressingly melancholic feature film, I was the last one to go. I shut the lights off, set off the alarm, and walked our the side door. Me and ‘Nickle’ went to The Abbey for a nightcap and then home.

As with most of my time in this earth, this week proved to be a series of ups and downs, but somehow none of it surprises me anymore. I’ve come to terms with the good and the bad in my daily routines. Yes, anxiety is a big part of my life, and a part that I’ve been dealing with on my own. The scary issue now is opening up and dealing with it with someone who wants to be there for me through the good and the bad. I just need to convince myself that there’s people out there who feel just like me.

“Stand by me, nobody knows the way it’s gonna be.”

Leave a comment

26.10.2011

Thank You

“Thank you, thank you very much for comin’ out this evening.”

It’s been 31,556,926 seconds, give or take a few thousand, since I arrived here. Yes, today IS my one year anniversary with the love of my life, New York. A brief story of how it started? Well it was indeed September 11, 2001 when that tragic incident that changed the lives of so many people in a gargantuan way, also started the spark that burned the forest inside me, and to this day I haven’t managed to put it out. In my case, I was on my way to high school when I heard it. My parents, coincidentally, were on their way to Europe and had had a pit stop in New York a few hours before the attacks. I just got to school and heard people saying: “there’s been a terrorist attack in New York! two planes crashed into the World Trade Center!”. “The what?!” was the first thing I thought.

Of course we spent the whole day watching the news and covering every single aspect of the event. The who’s, the what’s, the where’s, the when’s, the why’s. I remember watching the replays and, being my usual little detached self (or having my standard late reaction I should say), thinking: “that is unbelievable! but the colors are kind of pretty.” Now a days I know not to even think of uttering such words because I treasure my life, and the date holds a completely different meaning.

And here’s where the fascination started. Not just with 9/11, but with the city that, although I knew well about, I had always dismissed as just another big city where King Kong climbed a building, where the ghost busters exterminated a giant marshmallow man, where that awful iguana-esque godzilla from the remake gave Matthew Broderick a headache, or where Carrie Bradshaw wrote about sex (yes, I guess it is nature and not nurture).

I compulsively bought book after book about New York, paid a pretty penny on ebay for issues of the Times and a couple other news papers dated September 11, 2011, and spent countless hours on the internet reading every single thing I could find about my future home. I was smitten.

My first time visiting was the next summer with my Dad when, after literally being obsessed with the city, I had decided I’d go to Parson’s for school, and I wanted to check out the campus. That never happened, but that’s another story. I remember, being complete amateurs, renting a car (because we were going upstate at some point), and staying at the Hyatt on 42nd with my window facing the Chrysler building. I remember dragging my dad and his colleague up and down 5th ave as this little queer Mexican boy went into every single designer flagship store from Armani to Zegna dreaming of one day having my own store there (gross!). I remember tricking my dad into going to the meatpacking to Jeffrey to try and score a pair of D Squared jeans (at the time, one of the only places that sold them stateside). I remember the overwhelming joy you feel the first time you’re standing in Times Square at midnight. I’m going to stop now because I’m about to get teary eyed.

I didn’t go back till ’06 I believe, but from that point on I spent every single break I could visiting my ever growing group of friends I was already amassing and starting my ever growing, never ending love affair with the big apple.

Finally, after a long courtship and often cheating on my ex multiple times with my new “boyfriend”, I told him I was leaving with or without and decided to make the move. Last September during fashion week, I booked a flight, stayed with ‘Mexican Paddington’, got a broker, found a place, and a month later I was back with my mother unpacking and setting up my North Williamsburg one bedroom. I flew back to LA, tied some loose ends, and then placed ‘Toto’ in his pet carrier and boarded the plane. I never looked back.

For the most part, I believe this blog describes most of my many anecdotes I’ve experienced. Some good, some bad, some happy, some sad, some scary, some exciting, but each and every one making me fall more and more in love with New York.

And the thing is, this city has that. There is no other place I can think of, other than maybe Mexico city, where it pains me to leave; where I truly appreciate the things others claim to hate; where I’m constantly stimulated and surprised by everything and nothing at the same time; where it just feels right to be. Milton Glaser is a genius. “I LOVE NEW YORK”.

I’m sitting here, in the job that I love, waiting for the man that makes me the happiest, just feeling like the luckiest person in the world. Almost speechless and on the verge on a writer’s block, I find few words to describe my emotions. This place is, after all, only completely understood when you’re actually here. Books and movies don’t do it justice.

But my point was: it’s been a crazy year and I just want to thank everyone and everything that’s made it possible. Thanks to my new friends for the drunken nights we’ve spent. Thanks to my coworkers for making me eager to go to work every morning. Thanks to the smelly bums that make me feel at home when I’m on the train after I land from a flight. Thanks to the European expats who give the city such diversity. Thanks to the tricks who’ve made me freak out the morning after. Thanks to my boyfriend who’s made me believe in love again. Thank you all, and here’s to the rest of my happy life.

I wanted to pick an appropriate song for the title. Jay Z’s “Thank You” came to mind because, although the lyrics make little sense, he’s one of those people that you just automatically attach to New York. One of those household names like Anna Wintour, Derek Jeter, Rudi Giuliani and, mark my words, one day: my own.

Thank you, thank you, thank you! You’re far too kind. Hold your applause, this is your song not mines.”

Leave a comment

26.10.2011

TBD

Last Friday half of the royal Mexican family was coming to town to visit. I, of course, went to work for most of the day, and it was a long one. I finished a bit late and decided to stay even longer because I was going to meet my dad and my sister for dinner as soon as they arrived around 8 pm. Per my boss’s suggestion, we went to Saxon + Parole on the Bowery and Bleecker. The place was super packed, and I was a bit afraid that my unforbearing father was going to have a moment and refuse to wait more than the time it’d take them to set up a table. Luckily, my boss knew the manager and he managed to score us a table rather quickly.

Dinner was what I’d expect. Good food and some intense exchange of point of views. Whenever family’s in town, I don’t usually have your standard “relatives visit” shenanigans. To begin with, it is never a planned event. It happens very spontaneously and random. We rarely bond over stupid pictures of Times Square or strolls down Central Park. We never disrupt our daily lives or take days off from work. We are more about staying in separate places and meeting for a meal or two per day, and then calling it a night.

Despite our atypical behavior, we are very close, and thus the dinner conversation revolved around commonly touchy subjects that we’ve all been desensitized from and often rationalize and find the logic behind them. We talked about my parents’ ongoing on again off again marriage, my sister’s antisocial behavior, my brother’s pre-diagnosed Asperger’s, and my overly open and often graphic description of my new relationship. I love my family.

Henceforth and always with a plan on mind, I decided to butter them up a bit with some alcohol. I have to mention that neither of them are drinkers, so it only takes a drink or two to get them lulled. My scheme involved taking them back to Brooklyn to meet ‘Nickle’ for the first time so that the ice would break and we’d have the much less awkward scheduled official “meet the parents” dinner the day after. I was a bit nervous that my charming lush would already be a few shots past due, but I was willing to risk it. If they want to meet the man I’m in love with, I want them to meet him without a disguise.

After dinner and before Brooklyn, I received a call from ‘The Wife’, who had just gotten into town, instructing me to meet her close to my work for a drink before her and her friend, too, headed back to my neighborhood with us. We obliged and had a margarita at Sweet and Vicious. By this point, my almost exclusively sober father was already drunk dialing my mother, and my often shy, ESL sister was articulating complex sentences in her second tongue. It was time for the third act.

A few minutes later we stumbled upon my babe and his friend outside of our usual spot. Jackpot. The Cuban nuclear missile crisis was averted and the tension was nowhere to be found. Again, it was all in my demented head.

As expected, the “we’re only coming for one drink” turned into 3 or 5 plus a photo booth session, and and almost tragic ride home (they were drunk and had no idea where they were going), but all in all it was a great time. ‘Nickle’ and co seemed to like my blood, and that was the point of my plan.

The remaining diplomats headed to Union Pool for a night cap. I fail to remember if I even had a drink there, but we didn’t stay long, I had a ridiculously long day the next morning. We went back to ‘Nickle’s’ for bed and I donated my bedroom to ‘The Wife’ and her friend. ‘Titi’, who’d been in town since Wednesday from Sweden, had dibs to my couch.

Saturday, as stated, I had a hell of a long day. I started really early (by my standards) at 8 am. I had to go to the British Airways headquarters to do a special project for them that I thought would only take a few hours, and then I’d take the rest of the day off with the excuse that I was going to hang out with my family, but really with plans of seeing either ‘Fixie’ or my babe. Unfortunately, I was there till 7 pm with only one cigarette break and with no time for lunch (priorities).

As soon as I decided to call it quits and before finishing the workload, I left to go home, shower, and meet ‘Nickle’ to then meet my dad and my sister for an excellent dinner at Cafe Boulud. Again, the beginning of the night turned out into a success. We had exquisite food, drank well mixed drinks, and chatted effortlessly. After a few hours we left and my family hastily jumped on a cab and disappeared without even a hug. Expected.

‘Nickle’ suggested we walk to The Seahorse Tavern for a drink and then figure out the rest of the night. A drink with ‘Nickle’ or me is never just a drink. Six shots, four beers, and an intense somewhat pointless and repetitive conversation later we were on a cab on our way home.

Part of the reason why I’ve highlighted our drinking is because of nights like this where, in the absence of copious amounts of alcohol, we wouldn’t be having this situation and, as stated, it got repetitive and thus pointless… but we carried on and left it at that, just another drunken night.

The brief family visit went better than expected. My dad and my sister showed a side I’d never seen, both because they actually got drunk and let loose, and because for the first time ever, they were very open talking to me about my boyfriend and asking to know all the details with honest curiosity. I’m not sure what the future holds, and it’s scary in many senses, but at least I can be sure that if need be, he can come home with me to open arms and a tiny chocolate on the pillows.

Leave a comment

21.10.2011

After Midnight (pt. 2)

“Hold on as we crash into the earth. A bit of pain will help you suffer when you’re hurt, for real, cause you were driving me crazy.”

The best part about having ‘Nickle’ in my life is how, by default, I wake up in a great mood. I also wake up earlier, and I get more done despite the fact that I’m usually tired by dinner time. It is ironic that I’m saying this because last Monday I took a nap as soon as he left. Regardless, I had a somewhat productive day. I started by doing a much needed tidying up of my apartment. Once that was done, I went into the city and met up with ‘Fixie’ for lunch and costume shopping. We walked all the way from his job on 40th and 8th to the west village where we randomly ran into ‘Mrs. Bancroft’, ‘Nickle’s’ best friend. She screamed my name from across the street as she was having lunch with a friend and we stopped for a couple of beers and some food.

After leaving the restaurant, we walked over to a bar further east off Bleecker where we had two more really cheap beers. We left briefly because we wanted some happy hour whiskey and finally, right before heading home, we stopped at a few costume shops and I managed to find the hat for my outfit.

*Interesting story of the night: for halloween I plan on being Magritte’s “The Son of Man”, but instead of an apple in front of my face, I’ll do a toothbrush mustache. Yes, you guessed it, Hitler. Of course the controversial outfit hasn’t gone without exactly that, controversy. I spotted the perfect military hat at a store near Union Square and asked to see it. The store assistant said: “You want to see the Hitler hat?” I said: “Yes”. It was perfect, so I decided to buy it but, before paying, I was walking around the store wearing it. Another employee asked me if I needed any help. I asked if, since they had a Hitler hat, they might also have the uniform. The older white woman turned completely Nazi on me and said: “No, and if you ask me that again I will have you escorted out of the store!”. I apologized and mentioned that the other store worker had called it by that name. She responded saying: “Who?! no one here would ever do that, and besides, you’re not going to find that uniform anywhere in New York!”. I apologized again and walked away. Five minutes later, she screamed from across the room: “Excuse me! is that your hat?”, I said: “No, but I’m planning on buying it”, she said: “Take it off until you do!”. I did as instructed and waited to swipe my plastic so it could go back up on my head.*

We left the store and headed to The Abbey. More drinks. The boyfriend eventually met me there. More drinks. I am not quite sure how much I drank but I had a severe anxiety attack. I was having a talk with ‘Nickle’ and freaking out about the future. It’s been really difficult for me to be in this relationship because every now and then I fear of not being with him and what that might entail. I’ve been through breakups before and they’re far from fun and, to this day, I had weighed out the pros and the cons and had decided the good times are not worth the bad times that come after. Of course that all changed when I met this one and thus the hard process of letting go and letting myself enjoy this started.

After a few tears shed, he somehow managed to calm me down and we went to bed.

The next morning I felt like shit, of course. I was hungover and unbelievably paranoid and embarrassed. The babe went to work, ‘Fixie’, who’d spent the night, went home. He texted me a few minutes later asking if I could bring him his keys which he’d forgotten at my place. I obliged.

On the train over to Bushwick I had a break down. I stared crying and freaking out about my feelings and being terribly preoccupied that one day ‘Nickle’s’ gonna get sick of putting up with it. Again, Mr. Worst Case Scenario took over. I got off the train and met ‘Fixie’, he could see it in my face that I was not in the right mindset and hugged me. I left and went back to Williamsburg crying, of course.

Upon getting home I had even more anxiety so I went online to watch some Family Guy and try and take my mind off things. I kept compulsively calling ‘Jose Maria’. All I wanted was to get out of my place and cry in his bed all day. He was nowhere to be found. Thankfully, ‘Viquers’ was and, after explaining to her what had happened and how I felt, she suggested I meet her for lunch at the park. I did not think it twice. I left as soon as I needed to and was glad to do so. Before meeting up, I stopped by Barnes and Noble and got my baby a book he’d been wanting. I then walked to 59th and 5th and then to the Ralph Lauren Headquarters, ‘Mexican Paddington’ and ‘The Queen of the Dammed’ joined for lunch. I was clearly a mess, my face could not lie.

During our fast food Korean meet up, I felt a bit relieved when all my friends explained that it was normal to freak out. I was still going nuts in my head, but it’s comforting to hear that you’re not the only one. All I kept thinking is I can’t wait till we’re past this and turn into boring Lesbians, except I doubt we’ll be boring.

‘Jose Maria’ finally called, I told him I was coming over. I’ve never been to his place so he for some reason freaked out and started cleaning. The last thing I could care about was how his place looked, all I wanted was to lay down and cry myself to sleep. I walked to his apartment on the UES and started my day of healing. We talked, we ate, we talked some more, I got slapped. He indeed made me feel better because, despite me always teasing him that he has no experience in this because he’s never had a serious relationship, he sometimes come up with the right thing to say.

I left at around 7 pm to go meet ‘Nickle’ at The Seahorse Tavern. I talked to my parents on the way there and told them about my moment. My mom also mentioned things that made me feel better and whilst talking to her I saw my man walking down the street. An automatic smile just arched up on my face. We had a few drinks and then left to go back to SoHo to meet with ‘Mrs. Bancroft’ to celebrate her two new jobs. More drinks at Eight Mile Creek, more drinks at Spring Lounge, more drinks at The Abbey, then bed. I was still a bit on edge but way better than the past 24 hrs.

Wednesday I worked but since I was exhausted I just went home after. ‘Fixie’ and ‘Viquers’ texted me that they were and The Abbey so I met them for a beer. I explained to them my past two days and they talked some sense into me. I had plans to meet with ‘Jose Maria’ for a drink and did so after my friends went home. I took the train back into the city, freaked out a bit, and saw them at Ten Degrees. I stayed for a few drinks and then walked to The Church. I hadn’t been in a bit and I missed my old church goers. I didn’t stay for long, had two drinks, talked to ‘Handsome Wednesday’ and DJ and walked back to Ten Degrees to meet up with the babe who had been drinking somewhere with ‘Mrs. Bancroft’. Before we even ordered a drink we decided to leave and head back to The Abbey.

Once in Brooklyn, more drinks ensued. Another drunken night, and then we passed out.

Thursday the day started as usual, early morning with ‘Nickle’ and then work. My papa (‘Nickle’s’ pet name) came to pick me up and we headed to a new gay cowboy bar in Hell’s Kitchen to meet up with one of his friend. The bar was annoying and so was the usual HK crowd, a mix of Manhattan gay stereotypes who are often boring and one dimensional. It reminded me why I hardly ever go there. ‘Nickle’ texted me mentioning he was bored, and then he texted ‘Mrs. O’, who lives around the block, to come meet us and the night got better. We got pretty drunk and left for Spring Lounge to meet ‘Mrs. Bancroft’ for her first day at her new job. Again, we didn’t stay for long.

We got back to Brooklyn safe and sound. Once we were inside my building we had a cute moment on the stairs. It reminded me of the song that’s inspired this and the past post. After a brief one on one, we stumbled to my bed and passed out.

Like I’ve stated, it’s been a long, hard process. I am often more of a mess than I need to but, somehow, this man often says the right thing and then all is well for a brief moment. I’m aware relationships take time effort and, for the first time ever, I’m willing to truly put in both. I have the endurance of a fucking Arctic tern and will keep going forever, let’s just hope he does too.

“We’ll stagger home after midnight, sleep arm in arm in the stairwell. We’ll fall apart on the weekend, these nights go on and on and on.”

Leave a comment

21.10.2011

After Midnight (pt. 1)

“I can’t get my feet up off the edge, I kinda like the little rush you get when you’re standing close to death and you’re driving me crazy.”

It’s been forever since my last entry. I’ve been a bad writer but in my defense, I’m in love. I’ve been busy with ‘Nickel’ and although I have great things to write about, I’ve also been swamped with work and too hung over to focus… but fear not, here’s the first part of my past week and some change.

Last Wednesday was a long crazy day at work. Crazier than usual. We had one day between private events so I was overloaded with crews from both events packing and unpacking for the respective soirees. I had made plans with the Greeks to maybe have dinner at the Fatty Crab but for one reason or another it didn’t happen. Instead I called my babe and met up with him and his friends at Solas, he had plans to go with his friend to somewhere in south Brooklyn to check out the neighborhood before his friend settled on an apartment there. Of course we had more drinks than necessary and at about tenish we took the train to suburbia.

The hood was fine. Lots of brownstones, lots of brown people. We wanted to have dinner at some fried chicken place but sadly it was closed so we just walked till we found a bar we found appropriate and ate some southern food there. The bar, cheaply but aptly decorated, was nice, a potential good spot for future meet ups.

The whole night, I could sense ‘Nickle’ wasn’t in the right mood. After leaving the neighborhood we went back to The Abbey, as usual. We had a few more rounds of drinks and yet another long talk. For the first time ever, I managed to freak my man out. I casually mentioned that I see myself coming home to our apartment and seeing him waiting for me. He didn’t take it as casual as I meant it and got scared about the idea. Later I found out why, part of his baggage has to do with moving in with his ex, and it all made sense. I reassured him that I wasn’t pressuring him, and that I just meant that if he plans of having a life together with me, it only makes sense that at some point we need to stop paying two rents and start sharing closet space. A few days later, I cleaned a drawer for him.

Thursday the combination of alcohol and touchy conversations had me feeling a bit sick but, again, I was drowning in stuff to do at work so I barely had time to indulge my anxiety. That night we hosted an event by NASA and I got to meet Buzz Aldrin. I’d made plans to go see Sleep No More with my babe and his friends for his first time (and my second), so I spent the first two hours of the evening devouring the bite size hors d’oeuvres and drinking the various free cocktails I was being passed so I was in the right mood for the play.

I left at around 7 pm and met ‘Nickle’ and his friends for my second go at the previously underwhelming show. This time, I had a better experience. We gave it the first go together and at some point, despite wanting to be attached to his hip, I told him he should explore on his own. We all met back at the lobby bar, interchanged our annecdotes (mine much different that my first time there), and left to a nearby bar for a couple more drinks.

Before said bar, we grabbed a quick bite at a nearby deli and smoked a few ciggys. The night was slow from there. A few rounds later we were on our way back to Brooklyn and ready for bed.

Friday I purposely showed up to work a bit late. Again, I wanted to avoid the post-event clean up. I spent most of the day nursing my hang over and preparing for the night. ‘Nickle’s’ best friend was in town and judging from the first time I met him, I knew we’d be puking and stumbling back home. Not very different from our usual tho.

The babe picked me up at around close time and we walked over to Solas to dive into the craziness. Shots. That’s all I have to say. I was a bit nervous about the night. I of course wanted to hang out with the boyfriend, but I also wanted to give him some alone time with his bestie and I wasn’t sure if I was gonna feel left out. Being the amazing man he is, he did make me feel how he always says I should feel: “like the center of his world”. Shots.

The night turned into an insane, free and vastly flowing alcohol feast. We were rolling about 20 deep and I had more fun than I thought I would. Shots. His best friend, ‘Seek’, was already drunk, just like the first time I met him, except this time I got more quality time with him. I had a great time bonding and rebonding with my papa’s crew.

The plan included a dinner which never happened. Instead, we just picked up a quick refueling slice and walked over to The Boiler Room. Shots. More friends showed up. At some point I threw pepperonis at the crowd. Shots. ‘Seek’ was clearly in need of a soft place to lay before he lost complete control and crash into something hard. ‘Mrs. O’, ‘Seek’s’ beautiful sister, responsibly took him home. We left as well and cabbed it back to where else, The Abbey.

I’d continue trying to write about the night but by this point it would all be a work of fiction. I don’t remember what happened.

Saturday my babe got his ink cherry popped. We went to Three Kings, a tattoo shop in Greenpoint, to introduce him to his new addiction. Both him and ‘Seek’ got a unicorn on their leftarm. Again, I wanted to give him his space, but I just can’t get enough of him, and despite my stupid fear of feeling left out or intrusive, I wanted to start making memories with my lover. I constantly get a bit jealous of his relationship with his friends, I just wish I had met him earlier and had been around for all the insanity I’ve been told has happened.

The tattoo sesh went spectacular. I was running very late for work but I was glad to have been there. I finally got to my job 4 hours later than my scheduled time, and I was only there for a brief 180 minutes. I did nothing productive.

I left and rushed back to meet with the motley crew at The Abbey. As expected, they were already well on their way to booze land. ‘Nickle’ was MIA. Earlier that day I’d given him my keys so he could pick up his bike and take it home. Of course that didn’t happen. They’d just started drinking right after the tattoos and continued steadily for the rest of the afternoon and into the evening. He showed up a bit later after being at my place and taking a shower. He mentioned he felt uncomfortably comfortable doing so and said he’d love to share a place with me one day. I smiled.

More drinks, more shots. ‘Jose Maria’ showed up for a bit, I left the crazies for a split second and went to a friend’s birthday for a drink’s time, and hurried back to my handsome. By that point I was beginning to black out and forget parts of the night. ‘Seek’ and company were physically gone. ‘Nickle’ and I were mentally gone.

At around midnight we went back to mine and passed out.

Sunday was one of the best days I’ve had in a really long time. I purposely took it off so I could spend the whole 24 hours with my man. I work Wednesday to Sunday, and he works Monday to Friday so we never actually have a free day together.

We woke up and watched ‘A Single Man’. I wanted him to see the movie because there’s a scene where the main character and his younger boyfriend are sitting on a couch across from each other reading a book, and I’d mentioned to him that scene makes me think of us.

After the movie, he made me pancakes with cinnamon apples. I’m sure they’re always delicious but… doesn’t food taste even better when you’re in love?

The original idea was to stay in all day but, to my pleasant surprise, he’d scored us tickets to The Creators’ Project in DUMBO which I was planning to go to, but had opted not to because my day was reserved for my babe. We finished eating, fooled around on the couch, took a shower, and biked to the bike shop to get our bikes fixed, and then to the art show.

We spent most of the day looking at the exhibits, running into familiar faces, and hanging out one on one. Sure, we weren’t locked inside my apartment all day, but it was still just the two of us. Mission accomplished.

At around 6 in the evening, we grabbed a bite and a drink with his friends, went back to see one last installation that required no day light to be fully appreciated, and biked over the Brooklyn Bridge to Manhattan to then get on the 5 train and up to The Seahorse Tavern, one of his friend’s bar, in the Upper East Side. Again, more craziness ensued. I was drunkenly making declarations of love to anyone who would hear (or anyone who I could force into hearing me), we turned the gastropub into a club, and drunkenly danced to the best of our abilities.

At the end of the night, we took an emotional cab ride home. My baby was tearing up and sad to see his best friend go back home, and surprisingly enough, I was too. The weekend served it’s purpose. Despite being secretly jealous of all the years and memories they’ve had together, I really enjoyed ‘Seek’, and I was ready to make some of my own with both of them. I have a hunch we won’t be remembering many, ‘Seek’ seems like my kind of lush.

“All along we talked of forever, ~~I kinda think that we won’t get better. It’s the longest start, the end’s not too far away.~~ Did you know? I’m here to stay”

Leave a comment

11.10.2011

Halo

“Remember those walls I built? Well baby they’re tumbling down.”

All I really wanted was to get out that plane and rush home to my boyfriend. In a surprisingly quick and effortlessly streamlined turn of events, the plane landed, the bags came, the cab was waiting, the traffic was minimal, and I was home faster than I’d expect to be. I texted ‘Nickle’ that I was ready and waiting for him. He showed up 10 minutes after I put my luggage down.

After the romantic movie reconnecting moment we hung out at my apartment for a bit, planned on going out for a drink to The Abbey, but ended up delaying that a bit for some quality sexy time. Drinks came eventually, but only a couple. All I wanted was to sleep next to my handsome and my pup.

Wednesday I had a really long day at work. Not being in for a few days really piles up so despite being tired, I rolled with the punches and worked it out. I was still on my “glad to be back in New York” high so time flew by. I made plans with ‘Fixie’ and ‘Viquers’ to grab a very inexpensive bite and some drinks but, of course, I had my own personal agenda: ‘Nickle’, so I managed to butter them up with a beer at my work, and then suggested we go meet my man and his lovely friend before doing whatever it is we were originally going to do.

We walked east down Spring and ended up at Milady’s where ‘Nickle’s’ friends managed to get us absolutely wasted for pennies and dimes. The start of the evening went great. We munched on some fried finger foods and drank and smoked like we usually do. I stepped outside for a second and talked to my friend ‘Chet’ who’s been going through a messy breakup and has been having a hard time dealing with it. I didn’t let him indulge much since his belle is one of my best friends and no one likes hearing negative things about their besties. I told him I had to get back to ‘Nickle’ which was my real reason for hanging up the phone. I just can’t get enough.

We had a few more unnecessary rounds and left. ‘Fixie’ and ‘Viquers’ went home. I headed with ‘Nickle’ to “the church” to go meet ‘Jose Maria’. From this point on the night gets blurry. Obviously, we kept on drinking. I remember making a point to introduce my man to DJ both to let ‘Nickle’ know I was dead serious about him and to let DJ know the same. We left shortly after and stumbled home.

Thursday was another unbelievably busy day. I felt like a true Mexican doing extensive physical work but, thankfully, the day flew by again. I left work later than usual and met up with ‘Jose Maria’ and a couple of the Greeks to have dinner before meeting a new Facebook friend I’d been meaning to have a drink with. We tried Hecho en Dumbo but due to my time restrictions decided to go across the street to Gemma. Dinner was not the best. I was still all smiles thinking about, who else, my man. We got a table later than I hoped for, ordered drinks and food, and waited a good 40 minutes till I switched to my usual “issues with service” mode and left my friends. It was 10:15 pm, I was meeting my friend at 10:30, and my food was nowhere to be seen. My Greek friends were not too pleased but, again, I was having a fit and there was no stopping me.

I hailed a cab and rode across the bridge and into Brooklyn to end at Metro. I ordered a drink, waited for my friend and smoked a cigarette. He showed up 5 minutes later. It was the first time meeting him in person. I had added this guy on Facebook a few weeks ago when I did one of those stupid Facebook apps that show you people who you have the most in common with and he happened to be, according to Facebook, the one in New York who matched me the best. After a few drinks, some dumplings, and a few cigarettes (on my part), I can see what Facebook meant. He was a writer who had a similar sense of humor and outlook on life. I told him I had to leave and meet my prince charming and so I did. He took the train back to Connecticut.

I stopped at The Abbey for the usual nightcap and my ‘Nickle’ fix. Not sure what he’s doing to me, but I’m clearly addicted. Hugs, kisses, “I love you’s”, and bed time. This crazy stupid Mexican was crazy stupid happy.

Friday was busy, but not as busy. It was nice to catch a break. I was also glad to have one of those nice 6 o’clock wine drinking evenings with ‘The Cock of the North’. It had been a while, but it was well welcomed. I had asked ‘Nickle’ to come with me to my friend’s birthday party around the corner and being the pleasing gentleman he is, he agreed. He met me at work, enjoyed some wine with me and my coworkers, and we walked over to El Portal for a burrito and a quesadilla. I’m trying to satiate him with as much south of the borderness as he can handle. We left the restaurant and met ‘Fixie’ who was also going to the party. Sadly, he’d been recently broken up with and was not in the best of moods. It is not my place to discuss the implications of said break up but all I know is that I’m here to help him in whatever he might need. We’re going to Florida next month.

The party was interesting. I was excited to show off my new man to my old friends but I forgot that the art school and fashion crowd is not always the easiest to swallow. Overall, it was fine, but there were a few moments that weren’t necessary, for example, ‘The Queen of the Dammed’ made a dumb comment on the age difference between me and ‘Nickle’. He’s 11 years my senior and that’s the least of my concerns, but someone thought it was worth putting it out there. Another friend mentioned that our dress style is completely different. Again, who cares?! I forgot, fashion kids do. We didn’t stay for long, the ambiance wasn’t right. I did my round of goodbyes and told ‘Fixie’ to come with us if he wanted to leave. He said he’d catch up later.

We strolled to a bar somewhere on Ludlow where two of his friends were bar tending. Upon arrival, I was greeted with the same excitement I’ve grown accustomed to. Apparently, this man talks wonders of me. It feels good to go places where they’re happy to see you even when they’ve never met you. Consequently, the bar tending girls kept the alcohol flow strong and steady. ‘Fixie’, ‘Mexican Paddington’, and ‘The Queen of the Dammed’ stopped by for one last round and then we all took off. Before heading home I asked if we could go see ‘Jose Maria’ because I’ve been kind of neglecting him. Again, my prince obliged.

We drunkenly walked over to Ten Degrees and saw the Greeks for a split second. We were already wasted.

I was having so much fun that after leaving I wanted to stop for one last round at The Abbey. The moment we stepped through the door people pointed out how drunk we were. I was. I was intoxicated with alcohol and drunk in love. The friendly bartender poured us a night cap and sent us to bed. I have to say that despite my hypocritical bitching about ‘Nickle’ drinking too much sometimes, I had one of the best nights I’ve had in a long time. I love having him as a partner in crime, and I also love that we’ve both agreed that every now and then it’s fine to get stupid.

The weekend was off to a good start. Saturday work. Standard. I spent most of the day gossiping with ‘The Lady of Derbyshire’ and training the new intern who sadly happens to not be the brightest crayon in the box (which is ironic because she’s black… I’m not a racist, I just enjoy racist jokes). Come 6 o’clock we opened another bottle of wine and started the evening. My amazing boss and great friend, ‘The Cock of the North’, invited us all to Sweet and Vicious for a drink after work. ‘Nickle’ came to pick me up and we had a couple of strong margaritas. Apparently, during one of my drink fetching rounds my boss mentioned to ‘Nickle’ how happy he was for me. I am telling you, it gets better and better each day.

As planned, we left the bar to go grab a slice of pizza and walk over to a bar on 7th and 2nd for his friend’s birthday (what is up with these women getting pregnant in January!). I experienced the same usual welcome. They uttered the usual “So nice to meet you”, “We’ve never seen ‘Nickle’ this happy”, “You’re very lucky”, all of which I agree. We ordered a couple of drinks, smoked a few cigarettes, and I freaked out briefly when some guy was showing interest in my handsome. I am not a very jealous person at all, but I’m still in disbelief this man, who gets praised everywhere he goes, has picked me out of everyone out there. I am aware that I too am quite the catch, but I’m also aware there are better. Anyway… I constantly try to not over think it and just enjoy my luck.

We left his friends to walk down to The Delancey to meet my friends for another birthday party (seriously… January!). After trying to decipher where they were (the place has multiple stories and they’re not all easily accessible), we finally found them. We were already quite drunk and tired so we only had a couple of whiskey gingers, congratulated the birthday girl, and headed home.

We had a brief talk about my anxiety right around the corner. I love that he’s so understanding and willing to work with me. I suggested that instead of cabbing it, we just walked the Williamsburg bridge. Romantic. We talked and kissed and stopped and talked and kissed and stopped all the way to The Abbey. Again, plastered, we had a nightcap and headed home. Another happily drunken night to remind me to shut up and stop complaining sometimes.

Sunday I had to open. The train wasn’t running so I took a cab to the city. ‘Nickle’ tagged a long and picked up his bike in front of my work. It was a slow day and only me and the intern were going to be there today. Again, the intern proved to be quite useless when I asked here to do very basic computer stuff. I had so much hope for her sassy attitude and willingness to learn, but I think it’d be too time consuming to shape her into something of use. On top of that, I didn’t have the best day. I kept seeing pictures on Facebook of ‘Nickle’, and other friends out and about enjoying the great weather and here I was stuck in my 12 to 7. The only redeeming thought was my movie date later that night.

The plan was to grab a bite and go watch Limelight. ‘Nickle’ didn’t come till 7:30 which was fine except I really wanted to see him and I wanted to get out early. Regardless, my day took a turn for the better the moment I heard the sound of his bike chain clinking as he was locking it outside the theatre. Tickets, sodas, and caramel corn in hand we sat down to watch a mildly entertaining movie. Upon completion, we walked back to his friends’ bar on Ludlow for a few more rounds, and then to The Abbey to meet the usuals. The night was slow and quiet which was very welcomed because the past two nights we’d barely been able to crawl home. As promised, I told him I’d sleep over at his, and I quote him, “Polish palace” because I don’t work on Mondays and he does, plus I really like his place, so we dropped off my stuff, fed ‘Toto’ and walked over to Greenpoint for some sexy time before catching some Z’s.

Monday he woke up and got ready. He offered I could stay and sleep in, but I figured I’d be better getting up and having an early start. I had lots of plans for the day.

I walked with him to the train and decided to head to the city. I wanted to spend more time with him and I needed to buy some stuff for a couples dinner party I had planned that night with ‘The Cock of the North’, his wife, and my boy. Sadly, my boss texted me within minutes of getting off the train apologizing for not being able to make it. I was a bit bummed but had the dinner party anyway with ‘Jose Maria’ and ‘The Lady of Derbyshire’.

I bought some wine glasses and groceries, stopped by work (even though I didn’t have to come in), helped out a bit, and headed home to prepare for the night. I quickly cleaned, did some laundry, showered, and started preparing food. ‘Nickle’ showed up at 7 pm promptly followed by ‘The Lady of Derbyshire’. I poured them a glass of wine and continued my cooking. At around 8 pm we dined. The menu consisted of different lettuces salad with a balsamic vinaigrette, some garlic french bread, spinach fettucini with fake bolognese, and some bourbon and vanilla ice cream for desert. I stupidly undercooked the pasta and failed to deliver. Everybody was thankful and happy, but the dinner was not up to par with what I consider my guests deserved.

We spent a few hours watching bad TV and my guests parted one by one. I was left with my man, who’s no longer considered a guest. We talked a bit more, I asked him to have a look at my asshole because I felt a bit weird and I’m a hypochondriac, and then we went to bed. Again, he makes me smile all the time.

At around 6 in the morning we both woke up and couldn’t go back to sleep. We had another amazing session of sexy time and got ready for the day. We walked around with ‘Toto’ and some morning beverages till we parted ways. He had to work, I had a doctor’s appointment.

I went into the city and to the M.D. for a new patient physical. The doctor, who happens to be ‘Nickle’s’ as well, was amazing. Despite being annoyed that I had to wait over an hour past my scheduled time, I was really glad to see him. I spent about 45 minutes talking to him about all my itty bitty concerns which made me feel better. My ass is perfectly fine. During the visit, I realized how much I’m enjoying this relationship, and how much I need to work on letting myself enjoy it. I left the office relieved and I walked to work. On my way I talked to my parents about the visit and felt reassured that they’re supporting me in all aspects of my life.

Tonight there’s another event. ‘Nickle’ mentioned he’d stop by, and I can’t wait to flaunt him around even more. I truly feel like the luckiest girl in the world.

“I swore I’d never fall again, but this don’t even feel like falling.”

Leave a comment

08.10.2011

Home

“Well, hot & heavy, pumpkin pie, chocolate candy, Jesus Christ! There ain’t nothin’ please me more than you”

On my first day as a coupled man, I was beaming and happy and somehow got to work in time. It was gonna be a long day and I was anxious (in a good way) to get it done or at least get it started. Upon arriving at the office, I told ‘The Cock of the North’ I now had a boyfriend. His first response was asking me “who?” and “why?” since I’ve been so adamant about staying single. After I mentioned it was ‘Nickle’, who he’s met, he said: “Congratulations!”. It felt good to hear he approved. I also called ‘Jose Maria’ who gave me an “I know”.

Wednesday night my friend ‘Geordie-Mo’ was coming to town from London and staying with me. Sadly, I also had the work anniversary dinner to attend and I was leaving to film a documentary in Texas the next morning, so I wasn’t going to spend much time with him, but I told him after dinner I’d meet for drinks at “the church” and also introduce him to my new man, who I wanted him to meet, but also I was just looking for excuses to see ‘Nickle’ again.

And thus the plans happened as planned. The coworkers and I met at the office, toasted to some champagne, and headed to dinner at Norwood Club. It was a nice soiree. It went on for slightly longer that I would’ve wanted to, but only because I had other engagements to attend. ‘Nickle’ kept texting me constantly, I believe he was a bit drunk, and at some point he texted me the three little words a lot of people dread: “I Love You”. I excused myself from the dinner table, went to have a cigarette and called him. I told him not to say such things.

*side note: here’s my thing about the “I love you”. I do not mind it at all. I believe that especially in America, it has a stronger meaning than what it should have which was my main reason why I wanted to talk to ‘Nickle’. I have said “I love you” pretty early in a relationship, and although we’ve only been officially dating for a day, we’ve been hanging out for 7 weeks now, so I can understand why he could potentially go there but, like I said, I just want him to be sure he’s saying it because he does, and not because he’s idolizing me or something of the sort, after all, I do have my flaws. The way I see it, I do reciprocate, but the fact that I love him does not mean “I LOVE HIM” in the sense most people tend to think. I love him and I will continue to do so and that love will continue to grow, which I feel is healthier than a loaded “I love you” which has been held back for a while for fear of releasing the meaning we’ve attached to it.*

Back to the story. So yes, I told him not to say that, but I told him I wanted to see him in person later to talk about it. I went back downstairs, had another drink, split the bill with my coworkers, and cabbed it to “the church” where ‘Jose Maria’ and ‘Geordie-Mo’ were waiting. I greeted my brit with a huge hug and a kiss. We hung out and caught up over about three drinks, and a few more cigarettes. Even though he was here, the night was pretty standard. We left because I mentioned I wanted to go see ‘Nickle’ so he could meet ‘Geordie-Mo’.

We cabbed it to, where else, The Abbey, where I also greeted my new boyfriend with a huge hug and a wetter kiss. I introduced the respective parties and continued drinking. Anxiety decided to knock on my right temporal lobe’s door. I went into panic mode over the fact that I was now dating someone. I won’t delve into this right now, I want to write an entry about it, but at some point ‘Nickle’ mentioned he could see I was really scared, and I think I shed a couple of tears. We all went home. I went to bed with my man (it feels good to say that), and ‘Jose Maria’ and ‘Geordie-Mo’ slept together on the couch.

Thursday my handsome boyfriend left early for work. ‘Jose Maria’ left shortly after. I woke up, finished packing, and headed to Union Square to drop off my dog at a pet hotel and then grabbed a bite at Fatty Snack, the Fatty Crab owned food stand on Madison Square Park. We then walked over to ‘The Lady of Derbyshire’s’ apartment to catch a cab to the airport and head to Marfa, Texas. God was I not ready for this.

The Marfa experience was a cluster fuck of desolate West Texas ghost towns, constant fear of desert critters, interesting (and I cannot stress that enough) insane characters, no first world commodities, run-ins with the border patrol, and one of the most amazing experiences ever all rolled up into one with a scary Texas Chainsaw Massacre-esque vibe.

Let me begin by mentioning how excited I was about this. ‘The Lady of Derbyshire’ had mentioned she had a documentary to film as part of her graduating project and had asked if I wanted to join. The subject would be Dragset and Elmgreen’s Prada Marfa installation in the Chihuahua desert, as well as a story on the site representative and artist, Boyd Elder. I’d been obsessed with said installation for a few years now and, realizing it was in the middle of nowhere, figured I wouldn’t make the trip solely to see it unless an opportunity like this presented itself, so I agreed. We’d planned the trip for a while and that Thursday we started the 12 hour long journey that turned into 15 because of all the flight delays.

We got to El Paso quite late. We quickly headed to Walmart, picked up a few indispensable items (wine and cigarettes in my case, food in hers), and started the 3 hour drive to Marfa. It was scary. I’m talking about driving in the middle of a two lane highway with no lights other than the car’s with the occasional eerie sighting of things you can’t quite seem to describe what they are.

Sometime after driving for 2 and a bit hours we saw it. RIght there, in the middle of the road, a bright chartreuse rectangular beacon illuminating the barren landscape. We passed it and stopped, then reversed towards it. It was magical. My first impression tho, I was expecting something bigger, but there’s definitely no denying its striking presence. Obviously, we took a few pictures until we got approached by border patrol (for the second time so far) who asked for our ID’s and after proving our legal right to be in this country, wished us luck on our project.

We drove for another half hour to the town of Marfa where we were to spend the night. The apartment we rented was nice, except for its name and what it entailed: the yellow door. It was aptly decorated by hues of the aforementioned. I hate the color yellow. I drank a bottle of wine and dozed off.

Friday we woke up early and drove to the sight to begin shooting. I was in charge of the more “creative” shots. I had never handled a semi-professional video camera in my life, but somehow, I was surprised how natural it felt. Then I remembered how nifty I am and the surprise fade away. After about an hour of filming, Boyd Elder, the man of the hour, joined us with his mother. First impression: the guy looked insane but right off the bat I liked him. He was very nice and quite the character. His mother, a 90+ year old woman, was the same: incredibly nice and keen, yet she looked scarily aged. He invited us over to their place in the town of Valentine just a couple miles south of Prada Marfa. Again, his house was just like a set of a slasher movie: old, run down, and in the middle of nowhere. I have to make it clear that I am not trying to be demeaning here, to say they were incredibly hospitable is an understatement. I’m just pointing out the shock I experienced due to the contrast of what I’m used to.

We talked for a bit as he gave us a tour of his property. His studio was insane, but the stories were even crazier. This man has had such an amazing life, and the list of names he mentioned as close friends are enough to make any dumb big city socialite stick their head in the ground. The Eagles, Joni Mitchel, Ed Ruscha, Donald Judd, Razorlight, you name it. Old and new. Music and art. Hollywood. New York. Europe. He has it covered, and yet you’d never expect it from looking at him. Never judge a book by its cover has never been more true.

After a few hours we headed back to Marfa to get ready for an art opening at Ballroom Marfa, the nonprofit local art space. One of the things that struck me the most about this town was how even with its population of two thousand, it feels very international. People from all over fly to either of the two closest airports and drive for a couple hours to come to the different events that happen throughout the year. I met a lot of people from New York, and the east coast. I saw a few more that dressed the part so I assumed were also from out of town. We stayed till close and went back to our apartment. Boyd called us and invited us to the after party. We obliged and walked to Capri Lounge, another great old adobe building converted into a spectacular space that marries traditional with modern so seamlessly it almost feels indigenous.

We mingled a bit more, met a few key pieces of the Marfa community, and watched an all girl mariachi band perform. Still tired from the trip we called it an early night. I drank another bottle, ‘The Lady of Derbyshire’ conversed with the pillow. I briefly talked to ‘Nickle’ who’d been texting me like crazy all day. He’d been professing all these things to me that to be honest made me more anxious. I don’t know where he’s getting all these strong emotions from, but they’re scary. It feels nice, but almost too nice to where I want to run away. I had anxiety all day, but somehow, the thought of that nightcap made me somewhat hold it together. I talked to ‘Jose Maria’ as well and passed out.

Saturday we had plans for more shooting and at some point in the evening head 2 hours south west to some hot springs. I am not the biggest nature fan, and after hearing from the locals that these hot springs had no phone reception at all, I was a bit more apprehensive about going. Nevertheless, I always give things a shot. We spent the day with Boyd at his studio taking some more video, and driving around his town to other parts of this decaying community of less than 50 people. He took us to an abandoned theatre he plans on restoring and making his new studio. Again, it was very different from what I’m used to so I gladly welcomed the experience. At around 4 pm and after receiving lots of food from his garden, we took off and headed back to Marfa. We interviewed some of the people behind the Ballroom who sponsored the Prada Marfa project. Their house, again, was an amazing restored army barrack who’s original structure was left intact, and was just restored to rival any fancy apartment in New York. It was stunning.

The interview went on for a bit longer than expected, but by around 6:30 pm we were on our way south to Chinati to disconnect from the world even more.

The trip was a pain in the ass. The sun was slowly but surely setting, and we had limited amount of time to get there before we were left again in the dark, except this time it was off road. Unfortunately, the sun beat us and we ended up driving in a very scary dark dirt road for about 45 minutes till we finally found our destination. Naturally, we didn’t go in the hot springs. It was already dark, we were terrified of desert creatures, and there were lots of children around. We just drank wine, chatted a bit and passed out. I tried contacting ‘Nickle’ who was being a bit crazy (by my weird bias I have) but not as much, but was quite unsuccessful because of the lack of signal.

The next morning we woke up and went to the springs for 45 minutes. We had an interview to shoot at around 1pm so we left the “resort” and headed back home. Another run-in with border patrol.

We got back to the apartment and freshened up and headed back out to record the ex-mayor of Marfa talk about the piece. The man was also very nice. It seems like everybody who’s there is there because they truly love the town, and they all seem quite happy. I’m baffled because I think I’d go crazy… then again, they all are significantly older than me.

After the interview he took us to another house he owned that was, just like the house we’d seen the night before, amazingly restored and enviable. I’m beginning to notice a trend here, and maybe a reason why these people love this little shit town so much. Funny thing: you will find a yarn store, but a decent place to eat food in the morning or night? No sir, no way.

We went to the neighbor town of Alpine to buy some DVD’s to burn and dump some of the vast files we’ve amounted, and after doing so, we headed back to Prada. This time we planned on actually interviewing Boyd, but despite being an angel, the man is not the easiest person to work with. That, on top of the fact that we weren’t properly prepared with charged batteries or free memory cards, prevented the interview from actually happening. Instead, we went to the installation site and filmed a time lapse of the sunset. It turned out nice.

At around 8:30 pm, we drove back to Marfa in the pitch of darkness. We cooked the food we planned on grilling the night before at the springs, I drank another bottle of wine, and talked to both ‘Jose Maria’ and ‘Nickle’. The former helped me relax a bit, the latter wasn’t being as crazy, which I attribute to him not being as drunk as he sometimes is. I feel like I should talk to him about it, and I probably will. I’m just not sure when because I feel it’d be hypocritical, but I do worry sometimes. Regardless, always happy to talk to him, and despite the massive anxiety I’m getting about him and the trip, I wouldn’t change it. I went to bed with yet another smiley face.

Monday was a long day. We woke up early and, as promised to ‘The Lady of Derbyshire’, I made a soyrizo scramble for breakfast. It wasn’t as good as usual, but still better than most the food we’ve been having. We started the day by interviewing the architect of the installation, and then the head of the local newspaper. Nothing really stood out about either, except for maybe the kindness of the first, the nervousness of the second, and the trio of turkeys crossing the road in between both interviews.

As expected, we rushed back to Valentine and the Prada Marfa site. We met up with Boyd and finally got some kind of interview. We then went with him to the theatre he’s restoring to meet with a group of Architecture students from some University in the north of Texas who were doing a project helping restore the site. Me and ‘The Lady of Derbyshire’ started joking about deciphering the boys’ sexuality. We headed back to Prada, did some more sunset shots, and another interview with Boyd, and then drove him back to where the students were camping. We had a delicious dinner with them. Probably the best food I had the whole time I was in Texas, which is disappointing considering I was expecting gaining a few pounds of amazing Tex-Mex morsels. We drank a couple of beers, saw a baby tarantula, and drove back home. Another bottle of wine, a few episodes of TV shows I’ve been meaning to catch up on, another lovely call to my boyfriend who was sober and going to bed surprisingly early, and I called it a night.

Tuesday all I could think of was going home! Like I said, I had my ups and my downs, definitely an experience I was glad to have had, but not sure it’s necessarily my cup of tea for more than 3 days. This city mouse is ready to leave the country vermin to their own environment and head back to rummaging the New York City Subway tunnels. We did a couple of last minute shots in the morning, one of Boyd’s art at some rich lady’s expectedly beautiful house, and another one of the Chinati foundation and Donald Judd’s sculptures. We stopped by a gift shop, bought a couple of souvenirs, and headed to Valentine to bid adieu to our West Texas friends.

It wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. No waterworks despite the fact that I got surprisingly attached to some of the characters in the documentary.

We drove back to El Paso, had lunch at some awful pseudo-Mexican restaurant, and boarded a flight back to Dallas, and then New York. I am typing this on the latter. It’s almost time to land and I cannot be more excited. I get to see my boyfriend. I get to see my dog. I get to see a decent bar. But above all, I get to come to my own personal haven. I believe that the recent changes in my relationship status have a lot to do with how bad my anxiety has been, but also, the trip drained me. I love traveling and I enjoy my friends but every now and then I like to know I can just go and lock myself in my room if I need a moment to breath. Again, where were my ruby slippers?

“Ahh, Home! Let me come Home! Home is wherever I’m with you.”

Leave a comment

06.10.2011

Be Still My Heart

“I was running late for work so I didn’t change my shirt. The evening’s drinks left a lingering taste in my mouth.”

I have a boyfriend.

This post will be short and different. It is only about one day. It is also not only about the day, but about my reasoning and feelings about what the day implies. It starts like so…

‘Nickle’ woke up and left for work. I dilly dallied all day not being able to get myself motivated enough to do anything productive. I, of course, had not written, which should’ve been my priority but lately my mind’s been anywhere but present. Between anxiety, boys, and anxiety over boys, I’ve been a complete mental wreck. More than my usual self.

So I wasted the day hating myself a bit for doing so, but also thanking myself for having a day of nothing. Sometimes I forget that, although I thrive on stress, I am only human (despite sometimes not believing so), and as mortals do, I have the physical and mental need for rest.

Again, I wanted to see ‘Nickle’, despite not wanting to want to, so I made plans with him to have a date night. He had work till 6 and then he’d come meet me in the West Village for dinner and we’d ride our bikes together to the movies and then home. I did as instructed and took the ferry across the East River and into Manhattan to bike down to West 4th and Jones St. to Las Ramblas, a decent tapas place I’d been once before. He text me to let me know he was running late which was great because I was too. He showed up later than I expected and for a second I freaked out and reverting to my usual “worst case scenario” stance, I thought something had happened to him. Luckily, he was fine and we ate some muy deliciosa Spanish cuisine. I smile a lot when I’m around him.

After dinner, we walked down to TriBeCa to pick up his bike from his workplace. It was a nice autumn walk that ended with a tour of his office, and a kiss in the elevator (his first one there, he claims). We biked to the movies to see the new Ryan Gosling feature “Drive”. I had googled a bunch of other movies to watch, and this specific one was low on my list, mostly because ‘Jose Maria’ wanted me to watch it with him and I didn’t so I was just being stubborn and trying to prove I didn’t want to see it. However, as it is common when you like someone, his wish was my command.

We sat in theatres and I freaked out a bit. I have no clue why it keeps happening, but it happens. Often. Unexpected. Crippling.

I had a long battle with myself for most of the movies trying to concentrate on what I was watching, and also focusing on remaining calm and not showing the storm of anxious emotions I was experiencing inside. I kept trying to convince myself I should just call it quits because after all, I like to be alone and I believe I should. It was not a fun two hours. Regardless, I enjoyed the time spent with him which is the weirdest thing.

We left the movies and I called ‘Jose Maria’ who’s been frantically texting and calling. He asked us to join him and his friends at Ten Degrees. I asked ‘Nickle’ if he wanted to and he said he’d go for a bit because he was tired. We walked our bikes and smoked our way to the bar.

Upon arrival, ‘Jose Maria’ was with two girls I’ve met before. Both of them were curious about this new man in my life. Both of them gave me approving looks. We had a few drinks there and between smoke breaks they tried to squeeze out of me whatever gossip or tidbits I could offer. I told them I liked him. I told them I wasn’t sure where it was going. I told them I’d let them know what happened. This time, they approved verbally.

One by one the girls and ‘Jose Maria’ left, the bar closed, and we decided to take the train back to Brooklyn. I wasn’t really feeling the bridge that night. We made our customary pit stop at The Abbey before heading back to my place.

Despite having a few drinks, I was not feeling as drunk as I usually am. I was in a good mood and I was smiling a lot. I decided to take a leap of faith and tell him that I wanted to really date him. I’m not sure if he understood where I was going at first, but then I referred to him with the magic word and he was on board. We were now officially boyfriends. Naturally, we fooled around that night and it was great. There was something in the air that night. I passed out in his arms.

Wednesday I woke him up uttering the phrase “Good Morning Boyfriend”, which felt right. Whenever I ask him: “Why me?”, his answer always is: “You fit”. I can’t really grasp that concept completely because I’m still in disbelief this man likes me so much. It is not that I don’t believe I’m a great catch, but I also know I’m kind of crazy, and I don’t think he’s spent enough time with me to feel the way he does. I just want to make sure he knows what he’s feeling and he isn’t just idolizing me because he’s been single for a while.

Most of my friends disagree with me and see his point. That morning, I kind of did too.

“And I thought: be still my heart. This could be a brand new start, with you. And it will be clear if I wake up and you’re still here with me in the morning.”

Leave a comment

03.10.2011

You Give Me Something

“I was meant to tread the water, now I’ve gotten in too deep. For every piece of me that wants you, another piece backs away.”

Preamble to a pivotal moment.

Friday I worked. Nothing special nothing new. After work I had plans to finally have the toga party I’d been organizing with ‘Fixie’ and ‘Viquers’ and then meet ‘Nickle’ at a karaoke bar in China Town for his friend’s birthday. The first part of the evening fell through and the second one wasn’t going to start till much later so I met ‘Jose Maria’ for dinner. We went to BarMarche on Spring and Elizabeth because I’d been wanting to try their famous shrimp risotto. I was disappointed. However, I had a great time as I spent most of it advocating for my behavior and my emotions to ‘Jose Maria’ who was questioning my recent affair with ‘Nickle’.

We left the restaurant, met up with ‘John G’, and walked to China Town to sing some out-of-tune tunes with ‘Nickle’ and co. My future exboyfriend was late, and I wasn’t planning on staying long. I was still in a weird game playing mode, despite not really wanting to. I feel like more than playing games, I’m trying to conserve who I am and not just let myself go completely because I don’t like myself much when I do. I only stayed for a drink after drunken ‘Nickle’ came and I left with my peeps to go meet some of ‘Jose Maria’s’ friends at Boxers in Chelsea.

The bar was horrible. I had never been but I could not find a redeeming quality for it, other than maybe I got to hang out with a questionably straight friend of his friends who I used to think was very good looking till I saw pictures of him all trimmed and proper. Again, we didn’t stay long. A couple of cocktails and awkward moments later we were out the door to meet more of ‘Jose Maria’s’ circle at a different part of town.

The night led us to the appropriately named Hell’s Kitchen to a bar called Industry. Being well aware that said bar was not going to redeem the evening I started drinking more and planning my escape. There is really nothing worthy of telling other than I met a boy who ‘Jose Maria’ likes who I thought was somewhat cute and decided to flirt a bit with him just because, I wasn’t going to do anything at all, just wanted to see what the boy would do. I stepped outside with ‘John G’ and we opted for heading home without saying goodbyes, much like I sometimes do when I’m drunk, bored, and have better plans in mind.

Before heading home, I stopped at ‘The Abbey’ where I naturally ran into ‘Nickle’. I had a couple of drinks with him and we went back to my place. I really enjoy his company more and more every day yet, at the same time, I’m somewhat hypocritically concerned with his drinking habits. I rarely see the man sober, and I’d really like to, yet I don’t feel it’s my place to say so. We sloppily cuddled and passed out.

Saturday morning I met ‘The Lady of Derbishire’ at her school so she could show me some pointers about how to use the equipment we were going to take on an upcoming trip to Marfa, TX to film a short documentary she needs in order to graduate. We showed up at work a bit late and spent most of the slow day planning the rest of our trip and looking for Yankee tickets. I had decided the night before that rain or shine and despite the price I was going to see the Yankees before the season was over. I posted my plans on Facebook and asked in anyone was interested in joining me. One of ‘Nickle’s’ friends wanted to but our schedules didn’t mesh so I ended up buying two tickets for me and a coworker for Sunday evening.

After work I met ‘Jose Maria’ and his friend in the West Village for dinner. We went to a new place called Empellon. The food was a deliciously new take on Mexican. ‘Jose Maria’ had had a crazy night and me and his friend just kept trying to lighten the mood by casually teasing him about it.

When we left the restaurant, we witnessed a guy in his bike get hit by a cab who’d run a red light. The cab driver stupidly tried to argue his way out even though there were about 20 witnesses who clearly saw it was his fault. He then more stupidly took off without waiting for the cops. To be honest, I feel slightly bad for him, but that was a pretty retarded move. I stayed with the accidentee for half hour till the cops came and gave my info in case they needed my statement. ‘Freckles’, who was in town visiting and I’d met earlier in the day, showed up with ‘John G’ wanting to go dancing somewhere in the meat packing. ‘Jose Maria’, his friend, and I were not really in the mood so we tried diverting them to other bars. At some point, the ambiance changed and no one was really feeling it. Everybody was being undeceive and I got annoyed so I bailed on all of them and headed to Brooklyn. I was craving some ‘Nickle’ time. I met him at The Abbey for a few more rounds with his friends. Naturally, we got even more drunk and went home.

Sunday morning I woke up and fooled around with ‘Nickle’ for a brief bit. I rushed to work because I was opening and I was the only one with keys. As usual, I was a bit late but it wasn’t an issue. I had decided to make the day a short one as I had a Yankees game to go to. I spent most of the time training the new intern and wasting time watching youtube videos. We all left at around 6 pm and I headed to the stadium.

I was extremely excited for the game. I had never been to one and although I’m not a huge sports fan, I do love going to games. My coworker added to the excitement because she, as well as everyone around us, is an avid fan. The game, aside from the Yankees losing, did not disappoint me. It went into extra innings and I’d made it a mission to stay till the end. It only took 5 hours. ‘Jose Maria’ kept texting to meet up, but I didn’t. We left at around 11 and headed back to Brooklyn. Again, I went to The Abbey, met up with my handsome almost boyfriend, and decided to spend the night together. This time, however, we went to his place.

He lives a 10 minute bike ride from my place at a studio on the top floor with an awesome deck. He was a bit apprehensive about taking me there because, as he’s been before, he was a bit insecure about what I’d think. To be honest, I don’t get why. I am far from judgmental, and superficial things are never an issue.

I woke up when he was trying to kiss me goodbye, he offered I could stay and leave whenever as he had to work and I didn’t, but I didn’t feel I should the first night. I took off on my bike and went to see my dog. I spent most of the day running errands and I went to the IFC center to see “Weekend”. ‘Ursa’, the wife of ‘The Cock of the North’, texted me to invite me to go see Oh Land perform later that night but I had made plans with my friend ‘Bellefille’ to have dinner with ‘Jose Maria’, so after the movies I went to meet them a sushi bar in the West Village. I hadn’t see her in a few months so I couldn’t cancel, and I wanted to catch up. Luckily, ‘Ursa’ texted me saying the band wasn’t playing till 10:30 pm so I had time to do both and I told her I’d be there.

After dinner we went for a quick drink to ‘Bellefille’s’ new apartment she’d bought with her husband. The place was incredible, a three story penthouse in NoHo with magnificent views of downtown. We polished a bottle of champagne and I left.

The show was great. I’d seen Oh Land before but never a full set. After it was done I texted a friend from San Diego, ‘Baby’s Arm’, who was in town to come meet me for drinks at Swift on Bowery and 4th where I was going to meet ‘Nickle’. I can’t stop thinking about this man. I want to see him all the time. ‘Jose Maria’ joined as well. We had our first drink, and having to show my friend around we left and walked to The Boiler Room. Again, one drink and out the door we went. The next bar was The Cock, which ‘Baby’s Arm’ favored over the other two. It was getting kind of late and we were all ready for bed so, after another drink and some shots, my friend went back to his hotel and me and ‘Jose Maria’ went to Brooklyn. We stopped by The Abbey for a nightcap and then headed home. I had a massive anxiety attack over ‘Nickle’ and where things were going. As I’ve mentioned, I don’t enjoy losing control, or opening up.

As a somewhat predictable twist of fate, ‘Nickle’ rang my door bell. I slept next to him and somewhat calmed down.

“‘Cause you give me something that makes me scared, alright. This could be nothing but I’m willing to give it a try. Please give me something ’cause someday I might know my heart.”

Leave a comment

23.09.2011

Not Drunk Enough

“So I’m gonna get myself another drink whenever I start to think about you ’cause I do what I really don’t want to.”

Tuesday morning I didn’t really give much thought to my post ‘SF boy’ feelings that I might have lingering in my head, I was too excited about ‘Dandayamana Janushirasana’ coming to the city for the night to care about anything else. I did, however, text him about potentially going to Le Bain that night because I thought he would enjoy it. Guess what?! He never got back to me. I carried on with my day doing a bunch of nothing for the most part, I was feeling restless, anxious, and annoyed. I somewhat needed to go to work earlyish but I didn’t end up leaving my place till the evening for some event we had scheduled.

As soon as I arrived to work, I partook in the free vodka drinks that were being offered by the event organizer. I didn’t really do much other than waste time online and make plans for dinner with ‘Jose Maria’ for a besties dinner since we haven’t spent much time together. I’d also been talking to ‘Dandayamana Janushirasana’ who was going to her own work dinner, and then meeting up for drinks. I texted ‘Nickle’ about his plans for the night because I wanted him to meet her, and he agreed to meet us after he got off work. Apparently, he had a big project to turn in the next morning and he’d have to be there for a while. I finally coerced ‘Jose Maria’ to trying a Japanese restaurant we’d never been to, Robataya, in the East Village and I left work to walk over.

Dinner was delicious. So delicious that we managed to rack up a very hefty check, drink 4 bottles of sake, and eat enough fish, sea food, veggies, and meat to almost have the staff cut us off (or at least give us a strange look). We finished before I had heard from ‘Nickle’ or ‘Dandayamana Janushirasana”, so we stood outside the place smoking cigarettes and waiting. After 5 minutes she called me half drunk to see where she should meet us. I told her to stay in place and we’d come to her. Girl isn’t the best when she’s intoxicated. ‘Nickle’ mentioned he was about to get out and was about to walk over to wherever we were going. I told him to meet us a Bowery Hotel for a drink and we’d go from there.

We picked up ‘Dandayamana Janushirana’ and walked over to Bowery and 3rd. We ordered a drink, kissed, hugged, gossiped, and waited for my suitor to arrive. As soon as he did, I introduced them, got him a drink, and then my two friends went outside to smoke “a cigarette”, which I took as code for “let’s talk about this man without them around”. I’m sure it wasn’t in a bad way, I’m still interested in knowing what they said, and I’m glad they did so to each other because I like things to be as unbiased as possible. They came back and we left to go to 10 Degrees. We had a few more rounds, ‘Dandayamana Janushirasana’ should’ve probably stopped, ‘Nickle’ should’ve probably drank more to catch up. Me and ‘Jose Maria’ were fine.

The bar hopping continued across the street at a place that’s name I always forget. We had some pickleback shots, and a couple more drinks, and we proceeded to “church” where me and ‘Dandayamana Janushirasana’ gave a stellar drunken pole dancing performance to an almost empty bar before she almost passed out on the bench which was our cue to leave. We put her in a cab, one of the pious patrons invited ‘Jose Maria’ to karaoke which he accepted, and me and ‘Nickle’ headed to bed. Apparently, I was significantly more inebriated that I am willing to admit because I passed out on the cab, and then passed out again somewhere in my living room, so ‘Nickle’ carried me to bed. What a gent.

Wednesday morning I made it a point to get to work early. I failed. I interviewed a very creepy intern mid day who seemed very smart but a little off. The cherry on top came when she left, walked up the stairs, and I noticed her legs were covered in scratches and bruises. I gossiped with ‘The Cock of the North’ about her for a second, and then ran some personal and work errands. I ended up making plans with ‘Nickle’ and our friend ‘Viquers’ to meet later that night for a drink at Metro.

I got home at around 7:30, quickly walked ‘Toto’, freshened up and headed to the bar. The whole day ‘Latin T’ was texting me to see if I wanted to hang out, I mentioned my plans and he said he’d come meet me. Boy was I not ready for what was about to happen. Apparently, ‘Fixie’ and him went on a very brief Grindr date a few months ago where ‘Latin T’ managed to get himself kicked out of the bar 20 minutes into it. When he arrived, he was a bit drunk (as usual), and I sensed something slightly off about the night. I introduced them all and ‘Latin T’ was a bit apprehensive. I tried to buffer the situation but wasn’t very successful. I hadn’t eaten so I made plans with my two friends to get some noodles, ‘Latin T’ didn’t want to join. Instead, he went home and said he’d meet later to come with me back to the city to meet ‘Jose Maria’ who was having drinks with ‘Tiny Narcissus’ who had just gotten back from Greece.

I apologized to my friends for ‘Latin T’s’ behavior, but I should’ve apologized even further. As soon as he met us again, he made some very rude comments to ‘Fixie’ saying every time he saw him he was making out with someone different. I was shocked by his boldness so I asked what his point was and mentioned I too have kissed half of Williamsburg. He acted defensive. ‘Fixie’ handled the situation magnificently, as he normally does. ‘Latin T’ was being pushy about leaving and continued being rude to my friends. I was about to leave him, when he hailed a cab and we left for the city.

We arrived at 10 Degrees where ‘Jose Maria’ and co. were and waited for ‘Latin T’s’ friend to come meet. Surprisingly enough, he wasn’t being an asshole to my other friends. I mentioned to ‘Tiny Narcissus’ that I might be going to Greece with ‘Fixie’ in February. ‘Latin T’ asked me if we were dating. I was getting more and more annoyed. I just said it was non of his business, but no, he’s just a really good friend. ‘Latin T’s’ friend showed up which diverted his attention from me and my friends. For some reason I don’t quite understand well, ‘Latin T’ started crying within 5 minutes of her being there. Apparently she was at a work party where a guy he randomly hooks up with was. I pried a bit more and found out that said guy cheats on his boyfriend with ‘Latin T’. The situation just kept getting messier and trickier by the minute. I was severely confused. I have no idea why he’d have such an issue with ‘Fixie’ and his making out habits or mine, when he’s obviously not the most saintly gay man in New York.

I decided to switch into damage control mode and suggested we go to “church” so I could take him away from my other friends and maybe leave him there. He agreed. As we were walking over I could tell he was more drunk than I’ve ever seen him before, which worried me because I didn’t really want to be associated with him at the bar for fear he’d start something and I’d become guilty by association. As soon as we got to “church” I casually left him to his friend and chatted with the regulars. Two drinks later they wanted food and left me.

I was ready to go home and maybe see ‘Nickle’. I texted ‘Jose Maria’ to come meet me and I started walking his way when I ran into ‘Latin T’ and his friend again. They asked me to have a drink with them at this restaurant they were eating. I obliged and texted ‘Jose Maria’ to meet me there so we could go. Ten minutes later he came and I took a cab as far away from him as I could. He drunkenly texted me asking, and I quote, “where the f r u”. I didn’t reply. I pride myself in being nice and giving people second, third, and fourth chances, but with this one I’m done. He has severe issues and I don’t even think Mother Theresa has the heart to deal with this level of charity of work.

We met a very drunken ‘Nickle’ at The Abbey. Again, not surprised. We didn’t stay long, after we left ‘Jose Maria’ was going to spend the night so we walked back to my place. I started getting an incredibly strong anxiety attack to the point where ‘Jose Maria’ couldn’t calm me down. I wanted to text ‘Nickle’ and tell him I couldn’t deal with him. ‘Jose Maria’ wouldn’t let me. Regardless, I did text him saying I needed to talk to him. Within ten minutes he came over. I calmed down a bit and, instead of talking, he ate my ass, I jacked off, and don’t remember passing out or cumming. Next thing I know he was on the floor sleeping with his head on my boot, and I was on the couch. I pulled out the futon and dragged him to it. He woke up somewhat early and went to work. I woke up a bit later and realized I had dry semen all over my chest and abdomen. Apparently, I did cum. ‘SF boy’ texted me to meet him for lunch before he headed back home but I couldn’t. I took a shower and hurried to work because I really needed to get there soon. I had to interview an intern at noon.

I was a minute late and the intern was waiting. I didn’t have time to catch my breath but the interview went well. She’s a lovely black girl from Brooklyn with no experience in the field, but who seemed sassy and smart enough for us to mold her into a great addition. We hired her on the spot. The day was slow.

I had texted ‘Nickle’ a few times during the day and we had made plans to meet for a long overdue sober dinner where neither of us would drink. He came by my place at 9 pm. Sadly, I tasted whiskey and beer upon our first kiss. He confessed he had a couple drinks prior to coming. I was a bit disappointed and it kind of raised a flag because I’m starting to think that, much like myself, the man might have a slight problem, and as hypocritical as that sounds, I might not want that right now. Still… it is not the right time nor is it my place to bring it up… yet. He took me to Tabare, a restaurant on Driggs and South 1st. He’d never been but I had. Our unsuccessful sober date continued with a bottle of malbec. I decided to give up and just give in to my soothing, anti-anxiety, self prescribed medicine. I mentioned to ‘Nickle’ that it is in fact, not him, but I who has the issues. I can’t control my anxiety too well and all I asked for was that if he wanted to continue getting to know me, we take it slow and be completely honest with each other, and not to freak out when I do. It sat well with him. The man is winning me over little by little.

Half way through dinner ‘Fixie’ texted me to come meet him and his friend at The Abbey for a drink. Again, sober date = total fail. We finished our food and headed over for “just one drink”. Unrealistically, it was not “just one drink” but we did manage to stop after 2 or 3. The Abbey was the usual good times. Lots of familiar faces and cheap booze. We left at around 1 in the morning and walked home to go to bed. This morning, he woke me up with his lips around my lower head, and we jacked off together. He left at around 8:20 and I went back to sleep for a couple of hours. I woke up and took a couple of the homeopathic anxiety pills he had given me the night before. I think they worked. But if they don’t, I always have my whiskey and wine.

“And when I get there, to a place where I see you in a kitchen, I stop wishing but that thing and I don’t need you. I don’t really wanna see you and I don’t want you to see me. You would think that I was crazy,
you might think that I wanna be close to you but I’d rather wanna drink some Whisky and maybe have a little sip ‘o wine ’cause right now it`s the only thing that makes me forget you are mine.”

Leave a comment