the.applied.process.

wit. honesty. everyday ramblings.

Tag: ‘Mexican Paddington’

13.11.2011

Combat Baby.

“Said it all before. They try to kick it, their feet fall asleep. I want to be wrong but, no one here wants to fight me like you do.”

Stone cold sober. I smoked my last cigarette, I drank my last shot. I started meds last Tuesday. Nothing too serious, just an annoying skin infection I’ve apparently had for 10 years and had never really dealt with. The time I’ve had it goes to show how mild it is but, like most things, there comes a point when you have to deal with it and, after delaying it for several months (I was diagnosed and prescribed treatment last August), I finally decided to man up and embark on my 6 weeks of sobriety.

I was excited to go to work on Tuesday morning. I knew it would be a busy day and I was looking forward to it keeping my mind off things. Unfortunately, with a big load of work, comes a big load of stress, and with a big load of stress comes a big load of cravings for a damn cigarette! It was a long day. I probably bought every single type of gum and candy I could find to keep my mouth busy. I’ve quit before and I’ve never felt the urge to light up as bad as I have this time. Texts went back in both directions between me and ‘Nickle’. We were fighting the same war but in different fronts. It was somewhat comforting to know I wasn’t the only one, but still a task harder than I imagined.

I got done with work and went home. I had made plans earlier that day with a friend from college to give her two more full packs of cigarettes I had found in my jackets that morning as I was getting ready to leave my place. We were meeting for dinner. My babe biked to my place and we walked to Wild Ginger. I had not seen this girl in a really long time, probably a year, and I had not properly hung out with her since… probably college. It was a great evening. She is effortlessly beautiful inside and out, and one of the easiest people to connect with. I gave her her present, she gave me some advice on not drinking. Apparently, unbeknownst to me, she’s been sober for two years. The evening continued and, as it often happens, there was a point when ‘Nickle’ went to the bathroom and she took the time to say what I always here: he’s great, he’s really nice, we look good together. Again, it never gets old.

Dinner ended and we headed home. No one was drinking so there was really no reason to go to a bar or keep hanging out (how sad). We went home, laid on the couch, and tried to watch Crazy Stupid Love. We were unsuccessful and kept falling asleep so we opted for bed. Once in bed, one kiss led to another and we ended up fooling around. A pair of orgasms later, we were both sound asleep.

Wednesday morning was another early day. It was the first morning in a really (and I cannot stress that enough) long time I woke up completely sober. No morning cigarette. No morning chugging of two bottles of vitamin water to rehydrate. No morning trying to remember what happened the night before. Instead, I was somewhat productive and went to pick up some business cards for my boss right before heading to work. Again, the stress of my day along with the stress of not smoking made my day long and arduous but I made it through. The thought of seeing the boyfriend definitely helped.

After work, we went to a charity auction in SoHo. Free drinks and hors d’oeuvres. I, of course, was sipping water, but I still had fun. I bid on a handwriting analysis, and a few day laters I was notified I won. We didn’t stay for long. We left after about an hour and headed to Mooncake Foods for a proper dinner. Sadly, my sandwich was oozing with onions and, having the pet peeves I have about restaurant food, I went into a fit, I picked through the pieces of fried tofu and left the rest. Regardless, the baby enjoyed his meal so it was all worth it.

We headed back to Brooklyn and made a pit stop at Saint’s Alp for some bubble tea before heading to The Abbey. It was one of the bartenders’ birthday so we stopped for some cake and a shot of champagne. I was a bit delirious because it had been two full days of sobriety and I was stressed and annoyed. My handsome man had been trying his best to be there for me, but still I felt alone and annoyed. A part of me just wanted to lock myself in my room and not come out for 6 weeks. Thinking back on it only makes me rant more, so I’ll stop now… In all fairness, I’m glad my babe stuck around. It significantly helped to not feel I was doing this solo.

We went home and passed out early. Another dull night. Another notch on my advent calendar.

Thursday morning was more of the same. No drinking, no smoking, and work. For the evening, I had plans of going to Elmgreen and Dragset’s play “Happy Days in the Art World” at NYU’s Skirball Center. I met ‘Nickle’ and ‘The Lady of Derbishire’ outside the venue 15 minutes before, and without a cigarette, we walked in. The play was absolutely amazing. Entertaining. Funny. Witty. Challenging. Concise. I’ve always been a fan of their work, but this just made it even better.

Still not being able to drink or smoke, we left and went for some burgers at Stand4 near Union Square. They had a margarita special that I was unable to partake in. I was annoyed and stressed. I painfully downed my salmon burger and sweet potato fries and went home with my papa. Again, he’s been the best sport. We went to bed early.

Friday, ditto. After work, I met ‘Nickle’ and co. for an art show somewhere off Clinton and Grand near the Williamsburg Bridge. Again, drinks were passed right in front of me but this time I decided to have one. I was stressed and annoyed. A glass of cheap gallery white wine was not going to kill me, and if it did, so be it! ‘The Lady of Derbishire’ had invited us to dine with her and one of the people from Marfa who was in town. We said we’d meet her sometime around 9 pm, but plans, of course, never go as planned. Me, ‘Nickle’, and two of his friends ended up at my place where we waited for ‘The Lady of Derbishire’, then at The Abbey, later at Vinnie’s for some pizza, and finally at some bar near Metropolitan and  Union where the spastic cowboy artist was crashing a wedding. He wasn’t really paying much attention to us, and I was still annoyed and tired so I asked to leave. The girls who were with us went home, and ‘Nickle’ suggested we go back to my place. I responded with a “Let’s go back to The Abbey” because I felt like I was boring the shit out of him.

And so we did. And I somewhat regretted it. We stumbled into a really good friend of him who, do not get me wrong, I love! But, he was very drunk and got kicked out of the bar so we took him back to my place. All was fine, I would totally do that for any of my friends, any of his close friends, or anyone who really needed it… but a slight part of me just really wished we had just gone home so I could get lost on my babe’s chest as I fell promptly asleep… regardless, I was glad to lend a helping hand.

Saturday morning my love had the day off, I had to go to work. He spent most of the day running errands around my place. There was a lot of production work to be done at my job and I was busy for most of the day. The cigarette cravings were subsiding. Towards the end of the day, the new boss decided to pull out our old habits and offered to have a drink with the rest of us. I finished my beer and headed out. I wanted to see a movie with ‘Nickle’ but he was uptown drinking at The Seahorse Tavern so I opted to go meet him. I was still annoyed I couldn’t drink and I was a bit worried that everyone was already going to be of their way to alcohol induced amnesia. To my surprise, they absolutely weren’t… or didn’t seem to at least. I ordered a beer and joined in. All was fun and good times till my babe kept insisting for a cigarette. At first I told him not to think about it and just have gum (our substitute for nicotine), but eventually, and I knew exactly when he changed his mind, he came out of the bathroom with a fag in mouth letting me know he was going to smoke it. I insisted I wouldn’t be happy but, of course, he’s his own person and can do whatever. After a slight mental tug-o-war, he decided against smoking. I was very happy yet a bit perturbed. I obviously didn’t want him to have the cigarette, yet at the same time I was being weary of sounding nagging, and I also didn’t want him to resent me for asking him not to. Later that evening, he thanked me, and I was glad to have stuck to my guns.

We had agreed to go to the movies after a drink, but one thing led to another and we ended up at The Abbey. One more beer, one more shot, and then off to Sugarland, because we’d also agreed we wanted to dance. The club was empty. Regardless, we acted like complete fools and jumped and pranced around the empty dance floor to some pretty awful remixes of gay dance classics, and left as soon as it got crowded (about 8 more people than when we started). We went back to The Abbey to see if ‘Nickle’s’ friend was still there and what her plans were. She decided to stay, we had one more round and went to bed.

I started to feel guilty about my drinking. It wasn’t a lot by my standards, but I’m sure anyone would disagree that 4 beers and 3 shots is nothing when you’re not supposed to drink. ‘Nickle’ got a bit emotional as well and in his inebriated state stated he wasn’t going to let me drink or drink with me for the rest of the time I wasn’t supposed to. I took this with a grain of salt knowing we had a future Thanksgiving trip to Chicago to visit his best friend who, as I’ve mentioned in previous posts, is also quite the drinker. Never the less, I took his word and reminded him the next morning.

Sunday was my first official weekend day off since I’ve changed my schedule at work. Now I’m doing Tuesday – Saturday so I can have at least one day free together with ‘Nickle’. We were still not drinking and, after the previous two nights where I had decided to ignore the surgeon general’s warnings, I was ready to continue that. I felt a mix of guilt, and physical pain for having so irresponsibly overlooked the doctor’s suggestions.

Continuing my usual Dominical traditions, the babe made us pancakes. Delicious. We later had some sexy time and then took showers. The day started slow, but picked up a bit since we were hosting a sober game night later in the evening. I got a call to go to work to drop off some stuff, so we decided to kill a few birds with one stone and walk with ‘Toto’ across the Williamsburg Bridge  to the Lower East Side,  pick up some Vanessa’s dumplings, stop by my job, and walk back. It was exactly what I’d been needing. ‘Nickle’ had been such a great sport about my drinking conundrum, and I just wanted for him to be happy, and I think the activities of the day helped.

We got back to my place around 6 pm and started making food. People showed up about an hour or two after that. The night, which was completely atypical to say the least, was actually fun. I was very weary about boring my guests and, more importantly, my love, but they were all great sports. Other than ‘Mexican Paddington’ and ‘The Queen of the Dammed’, no one drank a drop of alcohol. ‘Fixie’ and ‘Viquers’ were actually mad at me for having slipped the past few days. To my utmost surprise, ‘Jose Maria’ was completely sober, and ‘Occhio’ and one of my coworkers, who weren’t really getting in tune with the rest of the crew, were sober as well.

At around midnight and after about five rounds of Apples to Apples later they all went home. Me and the bf hit the sack and passed out rather quickly. I think I was starting to get used to falling asleep sans ethanol.

Mondee, without me knowing, would turn out to be my last officially forced sober day. We woke up rather early, and being completely sober and without a hang over, we enjoyed another round of sexy time. I love morning sex and I’m glad ‘Nickle’ does too. There’s no better way to start my days. I received a very early message from ‘The Lady of Derbishire’ to go meet her at school so we could film the last interview of the documentary we’ve been working on. It was a bit last minute but Mondays are my day off so I had no reason not to be able to do so. After cumming, I showered and headed to CUNY. We picked up the equipment needed for filming and took the A train south to Chelsea. We met the people involved with the Marfa project at Hotel Americano somewhere on the high 20’s between 10th and 11th ave.

This time, the interviewees were the artists behind the project. They were unbelievably nice and helpful. The filming went flawless and after we joined them for lunch. I didn’t have to officially work, but I did have to stop by at some point and open the place for other people who needed to be there, so at around quarter to 2 pm, I left 40 bucks on the table, excused myself, and headed to SoHo.

I arrived 5 minutes late, and people were a bit annoyed, but I ignored their moodiness, open the doors, and decided to stay the day and work on personal projects. I updated the blog, and scheduled a few other fun sober nights for me and ‘Nickle’. We are going to see Warhorse on the 15th. I also waited for him to get off work so we could have a quiet night. We were going to cross the Williamsburg bridge together again, rent a movie, and have a night in. I, however, stupidly suggested we go to Beauty and Essex for dinner to have some grilled cheese and tomato soup dumplings that I had heard they served but had never tried. His response to that was happy hour oysters, dumplings, and then a hamburger pizza. A bit gluttonous for my taste, but not something I wouldn’t normally be fine with, except my stomach was killing me. To that point, I’d been having a bunch of side effects from the medicine and was not feeling sexy or in the mood for indulging too much.

He picked me up and we did walk to the oyster bar. Within minutes of getting there he asked if I was OK with him having a beer. I lied and said yes. The reason I say I lied is because, normally, I wouldn’t care, except he had promised a couple nights earlier he wouldn’t drink in solidarity with me, and now he was instantaneously asking for a beer the moment we walked in. I didn’t say anything and just let myself get in a weird mood.

After a few minutes of mentally debating whether I should speak up or not, I finally did. It didn’t create much of a problem but it did put a slight damper on my already psychotic state of mind (it was harder than I thought to quit smoking and drinking at the same time). At the end, I think he did understand my point. We left and went to Beauty and Essex, had a few appetizers, talked a bit more about the night, and worked it all out. The thing I love about us is how vocal we are and how we will talk it out till it’s sorted out.

Sometimes I feel really controlling, crazy, and demanding when I let these things get to me, but I just feel like I shouldn’t need to point them out because, first of all, I am incredibly giving and I do things without others even expecting or suggesting me to do it; and second, because he did promise me something, and to me promises mean so much that sometimes I’d rather people not make them because I hold them in a higher regard than I think most people do.

I snapped out of my mental jam, and became a bit more accommodating to his needs. We left the restaurant and walked over to Rosario’s for his slice of pizza, and then across the bridge. I wasn’t feeling the best stomach wise, but the physical activity helped. We rented “Paris is Burning” on the way home. We didn’t get to watch it, we had food coma and just wanted to go to bed.

Like I mentioned a few paragraphs above, this was my last day of forceful sobriety. It was a tough week. I kind of wish it would’ve lasted longer, yet at the same time, I was glad to have done it, even if it was just for a bit. I was losing my mind and I was taking people down with me and did not feel like continuing to do so. I’m not making excuses for myself, I really didn’t know how hard not drinking was going to be. Maybe one day in the future I’ll give it a second shot? I guess, for the moment, I’m just not as strong as I thought I was.

“Combat baby! Come back baby!  Fight off the lethargy, don’t go quietly. Combat baby! Said you would never give up easy”

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07.11.2011

I Was a Prayer

“And I open up like the back of a book. I ruin everything with just a quick look. And I settle down like a rocket explodes, hit the ground, but how far out who knows.”

I guess when it rains, it pours… and when it pours, you end up flooded. That is exactly how I felt on Halloween weekend. Aside from my usual overwhelming string of emotions and thoughts, I had a few more curve balls thrown at me. The first one: whether I wanted to accept it or not, ‘The Cock of the North’ was leaving.

Saturday morning I went to work. I was quite anxious because I had plans of going home right after, getting ready with my babe, and heading to the first Halloween party of the weekend at some loft in DUMBO. Of course after the very emotional Friday night farewell with my boss, I immediately messaged him in the morning and mentioned I wanted to see him and his wife one last time before he left. He responded by suggesting we meet for drinks that night. He insisted I invite ‘Nickle’ which meant a lot to me, because I like that he is happy and supportive of what I have. It was a tight squeeze in my schedule, but I obliged.

The weather was shit. It was the first snow of the season and, as much as I love snow, it was not cute. Wet and slushy everywhere. My handsome met me at work a bit before I’m usually out and we took a cab to the Upper West Side for some wine and some tears. We made it safe and sound. Sadly, his wife couldn’t. She was stuck dealing with the last bits and pieces of their move back to Denmark.

To restate I was emotional is an understatement. The wine didn’t help either. I spent the next hour or so hearing about how much I mean to ‘The Cock of the North’, his wife, and his mother-in-law. As promised, he had two presents for me. Two books: A Hero of Our Time and The Count of Monte Cristo. One of them had a very heartfelt note, but both were chosen specifically for me for various reasons which he didn’t really explain, but I felt they were the right ones.

Unfortunately, I had friends coming over so I had to leave promptly to go wait for them. I cried on the cab ride back.

Once in Brooklyn, we went to The Abbey to pick up ‘Occhio’ and ‘The Wife’ who were going to join in the shenanigans. We did a shot and went home to get into character. More drinks ensued.

After about an hour, Magritte’s Chaplin (me), Buddha (‘Nickle’), the little red ridding hood (‘The Wife’), jailbreak pumpkin (‘Occhio’), and a pineapple (friend of ‘The Wife’) returned to The Abbey. Another round of shots, and then a cramped taxi journey to DUMBO.

By the time we got to the loft party we were all pretty wasted. We met up with ‘Fixie’ and ‘ Viquer’s’ version of Men on Film (who later transformed into Die Antwoord), a jellyfish (‘Mexican Paddington’), a weird “homeless/bowie-esque” unicorn (‘The Queen of the Dammed’), an asparagus, a pair of bats, and some other costumed alchys. The rest of the night gets a bit blurry. I remember fighting with the decorations whilst walking through a slim hallway in search for non existent booze and a toilette; a lot of sloppy pictures being taken; a slight freak out when I lost ‘Nickle’ who, apparently, was the most wasted my friends have ever seen him (to his defense I don’t believe so, but then again, I was pretty done too); oh and, at some point, ‘Nickle’s’ friends showing up.

We all coincidentally decided to leave at the same time. My party made it back to my apartment in separate cabs but safe. We passed out almost instantaneously.

Sunday I had to work. ‘Occhio’, who’d spent the night, was the first one to leave. After putting back on an alternate version of the prior night’s outfit, I followed. ‘Nickle’ and ‘The Wife’ were going to meet me for brunch, but she did her usual disappearing act and left before we could nurse our hangover with a bloody mary. I stopped by work for about an hour and left the intern by herself with the excuse that I had errands to run. Instead, I went to practice my long lost dominical customs and ate some food with the boyfriend. We then walked around for a bit stopping by a candy store to pick up some chocolate body parts to hand out to children on Monday night during the parade. I went back to work, he went off on his own.

I left work and met him at a bar somewhere in Chinatown. He was already tipsy. I ordered a drink, he finished his, and we went to his friend’s art show around the corner. We didn’t stay for long. We left and met ‘Jose Maria’, who’s been very elusive lately, at Ten Degrees. One of ‘Nickle’s’ friends also joined and the four of us got even more drunk. I justified our usual actions with the fact that it was my second to last day before I embarked on my necessary 6 weeks of sobriety. Curve ball number 2.

We cabbed it home with plans of staying at my handsome’s apartment but, one thing led to another and, after a short conversation on my steps, we went back inside my place. Yes, another somewhat repetitive and pointless conversation. It’s not that we both don’t love talking things out but, like I’ve mentioned to him, we can’t be getting drunk to the point where we become nonsensical because we will grow tired of that.

I think that night we fooled around.

On Halloween day, my papa went to work. I watched some TV and cleaned my apartment. I honored the plans I’d made with ‘Jose Maria’ to meet for lunch and did so. We went to Westville East. It was nice to see him one on one and with no booze in our systems. He gave me a much needed bitching about my insane desire to self sabotage, and then came over to my place to help me get ready with my outfit for the night. ‘Mrs. Bancroft’ also joined. We had a few drinks as we turned ourselves into multiple versions of Richard Simmons. ‘Fixie’ and ‘Viquers’ also got in the band wagon.

We left to meet ‘Nickle’ and the rest of the party monsters at around 7 pm. We all rendez vous’d at Milady’s for some much needed food and social lubricant. ‘The Lady of Derbishire’ and ‘Occhio’ joined, as did ‘Nickle’ and three of his friends. The night was off to a good start. Shots, nachos, and cigarettes. The last night of debauchery before I started my medication, and we (me and the bf) quit smoking had begun.

We made it to the parade eventually. It was the first time I did it. It was fun but I expected something different. We didn’t last too long. It is hard to manage a large crowd of inebriated drones. We all followed ‘Mrs. Bancroft’ like lemmings to Spring Lounge where we had a few more rounds, waited for ‘Jose Maria’ and other people, and continued partying. We finished next door at Firefly where it was empty (for a reason), and finally decided to go home. ‘Nickle’ rushed to buy his last pack despite the fact that I suggested he shouldn’t because we were quitting the next morning. ‘Fixie’ bought his weight in candy. I, being exhausted from dealing with an unexpected anxiety attack, hailed a cab and took us all back to Brooklyn.

Upon arriving at my place, I got in the shower, washed my face and laid on my mattress shaking. They wanted to stay up longer. I had to work. Eventually, I snapped out of my mini anxiety attack, went outside, took ‘Nickle’ to bed, smoked a cigarette and tried to sleep. Unsuccessful at the task at hand, we got up again, smoked another cigarette with ‘Fixie’, swore off smoking, gave him our packs, and finally went to sleep. Obviously we were drunk and nonsensical.

Halloween was over, and with that so was drinking for 6 weeks, and smoking for good. I was and still am terrified about the repercussions of such commitment, especially while doing it with a significant other. I’m taking it a step at a time, and it’s been hard… but I will delve into that in the next post. For the moment, all I have to say is that, for this year, the last weekend in October proved to be pivotal. It was insightful. It was unexpected. It was exhausting. I’m ready for 2012.

“Had a nice grip on my life ’til you twisted my arm.”

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01.11.2011

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.”

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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.”

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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.”

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22.09.2011

Airplanes

“It sounds like we would of had a great deal to say to each other”

Intermission.

Last Saturday, ‘SF boy’ took the red eye to New York. We had originally made plans to hang out at least once but, knowing him, nothing was set in stone. I wasn’t holding my breath for this one, and besides… with all these other boys I’d been juggling, I was pretty winded. Regardless, being the cheery always down for whatever kind of guy that I am I had planned a nice evening for us on Monday: dinner, Broadway, drinks, and maybe a sleepover. In his typical manner, he was playing hard to get and making it significantly hard to have solid plans. Sunday I knew he’d be with his friend for a birthday. He actually texted me Sunday night but after a couple short back and forth one liners he stopped. What a surprise.

Monday morning I woke up fairly early because ‘Nickle’ was over and he needed to go to work. I planned on staying up but after having some hydrating coconut water and a slice of peanut butter toast, I went back to bed for a mini nap. I woke up at elevenish just in time to do a much needed session of yoga. The class was surprisingly easy this time.

I got out at about 2 and hurried home to frantically clean my place in case ‘SF boy’ came over or spent the night. A good thing about him is that after being to his’, I got inspired to grow up and keep a pristine apartment. I’ve been doing good so far. For the next following hours I scrubbed, swept, vacuumed, washed, swiped, polished, and cleaned every single nook and cranny of my untidy abode. In between all these things I kept smoking cigarettes and checking my phone for signs that ‘SF boy’ was still alive. They came few and far between but somehow I managed to decipher that I was supposed to meet him somewhere in SoHo at around 5:30 pm so we could grab something to eat and a drink before heading to see the musical.

I showered, got dressed, and headed to our rendez vous. He was waiting with his friend at a parking garage on Mulberry and Kenmare where there was some sort of police altercation outside. I greeted them both and hung around till his friend got her car. We then walked for a bit till we ended up at Delicatessen on the corner of Prince and Lafayette having some fish tacos and a michelada in my case, and a burger and some gay martini in his. We quickly and effortlessly caught up which boggles my mind because for some reason, when we’re hanging out it seems so fluid and natural, yet when we’re not together it’s so awkward and it’s like pulling teeth to try and have some sort of connection with this man. We ordered a second round of drinks and dilly dallied for a second till it was time to catch the N uptown to Times Square to watch Priscilla Queen of the Desert.

My handsome tourist was taking plenty of pictures of all the wasteful billboards on 42nd and Broadway, some of them including me, which I find a bit odd because he seems like one of those boys who doesn’t want others to know he’s hanging out with someone so he can keep his options open, much like DJ. We found the Palace Theatre and ordered another drink. This time: a pink margarita. We got escorted to our seats and waited till the musical started. I had an exceptional time. If you haven’t yet, go watch this one. It was camp, it was funny, it was light, it was well choreographed, it was perfect for the occasion.

After we left the theatre I texted ‘Fixie’, ‘The Queen of the Dammed’, and ‘Mexican Paddington’ to go to Cubby Hole for a few more rounds. We took the train to the Village and met up with the boys. On the way there I texted ‘Fixie’ warning him not to mention DJ or ‘Nickle’ because ‘SF boy’ didn’t know about them.

Right after we got there both ‘Fixie’ and ‘The Queen of the Dammed’ gave me their negative two cents on my date. I wanted to get some dirt on him and with the world being so small, it turned out ‘Mexican Paddington’ knew some of ‘SF boys’s’ friends from back home. I let them chat for a bit and went outside with ‘Fixie’ for a cigarette and more schooling. I like to hear his opinion because he’s usually pretty on point.

We went back inside and had a few more drinks. In their usual manner, ‘Mexican Paddington’ and ‘The Queen of the Dammed’ went home. We stayed with ‘Fixie’ to finish our drinks and then took the L to Brooklyn.

Before heading to bed we stopped by Metro for one last round. Again, the night was quite fun. We were a bit flirty but not too much, just like we usually are. I took him to the photo booth for my ritualistic documenting of the boys I go out with. We left Metro and I offered he spent the night. Not sure if he used this as an excuse or not but he said he couldn’t because he had his friend’s keys and needed to give them to her early in the AM. I chose to believe him. We hugged goodbye and before letting him walk away I called him back and gave him a kiss.

As I was walking home I texted ‘Nickle’ to see if he was still at The Abbey like he usually is. He didn’t reply but I decided to stop anyway. He wasn’t there but most of his friends were. They all greeted me with great excitement, as usual. I stayed for a bit having a few more drinks and talking to them about my future ex boyfriend. Some of them gave me the go, others jokingly told me to be nice or they’d break my bones. It was getting late and I was ready to go home. I paid my ridiculously cheap tab and stumbled home. Apparently, I called ‘Jose Maria’ and had an anxiety attack about the whole situation. I don’t quite remember that, but it sure sounds like me. The anxiety is getting worse and worse. I have no idea why but I’m getting scared. Thinking back, a similar situation happened when I was in San Francisco staying with ‘SF boy’. I’m confused and I don’t know how to go about it. I guess all I can do is just take it a day at a time. It’s scary and exhausting… life is not fun sometimes.

“I bet when I leave my body for the sky the wait will be worth it.”

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22.07.2011

weekend boyfriends!!

As I had mentioned, I went to work straight from DJ’s apartment, unshowered and smelling a bit like sweat and sex. The day went by quick. After work I rushed home thinking our bus for Atlantic City left at 5:45. I packed quickly, walked my baby, freshened up, and headed to some hardcore porn headquarters in the same building as DKNY and other fashion related companies somewhere near Times Square where I was to meet ‘Fixie’.

A bit of background on my future weekend boyfriend: I basically fell in love with him the first time I met him about a year ago. He is, physically, almost exactly what I look for, I don’t think there’s a creature in this planet who fits the bill 100% but he comes pretty damn close. At the time he had a boyfriend, but he seemed like a sweet guy that I’d like to know more and possibly wait for. We got to hang out a few more times and I got to hear the usual drama that comes with having a significant other. The more I saw him and the more I got to know him, the more I fell. We’d kissed a couple of times and discussed the possibility of sex. I am very into him, however, we live very distinct lifestyles and for me it’s just been a matter of “Can my horny penis finally deliver the coup de grâce to my over analytical anxiety ridden brain?”.

I was a bit hesitant over what the weekend might bring. I was anxious over drinking because I knew that that would most certainly help Mr. Winky dish his final blow, but in a way, I was somewhat ready for it. We walked across the street to Port Authority. He informed me the bus wouldn’t be leaving for another hour so we decided to grab a smoothie and wait in line. He is so damn dreamy.

Upon arriving at Atlantic City, our friends were nowhere to be found. ‘Fixie’ and I wandered around for an hour till they were courteous enough to show their presence and let us in the room to drop our bags. The weekend started on an off schedule. They had already eaten, we were starving, so we opted to go have dinner and meet them later for drinks. They kept texting us to hurry. I had a slight feeling they were trying to find out if we’d fuck already. The tension was there. Finally we met up with them at a club on the rooftop of our subpar “resort”. The moment we walked inside the club, we knew we were the two hottest guys in the room. Most eyes were on us. We developed a certain sense of entitlement, and I believe that was what started solidifying our ‘weekend boyfriends’ status. We had a few drinks, but they were ahead of us and left before we did. We were pretty tired from the long trip so we left the bar and headed to the room. No kissing. No sex.

The next morning again our friends wanted to eat a proper breakfast, we wanted smoothies, so we said our goodbyes and went our separate ways. We walked along the boardwalk. We bought matching tees. I was feeling like a 12 yr old school girl hanging out with her crush. It was kind of cute to say the least. We ended up at a starbucks on a mall sipping on some subpar smoothies. Again, mom and dad kept texting to see where we were. A couple of friends of mine (including the love of my life/best friend a.k.a. ‘The Wife’) were driving from Philly to meet us for the day. We ended back at the room where we downed a couple vodka sodas and finally headed to the beach to meet the rest of the crew.

The beach was nice. I normally hate it, but me and ‘Fixie’ had decided to just have a crazy silly weekend and go in our speedos to try and ruffle up some guidos. Again, most eyes were on us (although for different reasons). ‘Fixie’s’ zebra print banana hammock out did my Euro sleek black Dior ensemble. He looked adorable. We splish splashed, smokey smoked, and tanny tanned. Very unlike me but, like I said at the end of the previous post, my  bastions were promptly crumbling.

After the beach most of us opted for buffet. I discussed with ‘The Wife’ my feelings and concerns at the moment over ‘Fixie’. As expected, she suggested I just go with it. We stopped by the room prior to getting food. My sober self for some reason agreed to take a shower with ‘Fixie’. This was not me. This was not me. We had our first full view of each others’ genitals. I’d heard about his, and they were certainly as beautiful as they’d been described/ I’d been expecting. My usual self consciousness wasn’t there.

We walked to the buffet and stuffed ourselves beyond our skinny (or not) capabilities. After food, ‘The Wife’ and her friends headed back home. The rest of the posse decided to give in to the already present food coma. That night we were gonna try and do a pool party, Jersey Shore style.

Prior to la piscine, we went to a drag show upstairs. It was pretty phenomenal to say the least. After the show, we bar hopped along the boardwalk a bit. Per a handsome bartender’s suggestion, we nixed the pool party and headed to a beach bar. It was empty but drinks were cheap. We then tried to hit the Chelsea Hotel but were denied entrance due to our outfits. I won’t even start on my feelings about subpar clubs telling me how to appropriately dress. The girls who were with us stayed there, us boys decided to walk back to the club we were at the night prior. We made a pit stop at the beach where I had a one to one with my friend ‘Mexican Paddington’, then he had a moment with his beau ‘Queen of the Dammed’, and I had my first kiss/junk fondling of the weekend.

‘Fixie’ and I decided to strip down to our European beach attire and walk back down the boardwalk to the hotel weekend boyfriends status. Black girls loved us, black boys did too (although shh!!! don’t tell because they’re on the DL). People took pictures with us, gave us free stuff, and complimented us left and right. Again, most eyes were on us.

Back at the hotel, we decided to do the club in our speedos to top off the already atypical (although not really) night. People stared twice as hard as the night before. We managed to give a show, dancing on the go-go boys stage, making out, grabbing each other’s semi erect crotches, and whatever else my blurry memory won’t let me recall. We let our roommates head back to the room for a bit and do their thing, after all, this was their quasi-pre-wedding vacation. Not being very aware of the time we went back to the room a few minutes later not honoring our promise to let them enjoy man on man sex. We took another shower together. Somewhere out there there’s a video of me eating ‘Fixie’s’ ass in a New Jersey hotel room bathroom. Chip chop the bastion was down. I pranced around the room in my new found comfortable nudity and gave my first live sex show (although there wasn’t any actual sex, it was still very dirty). ‘Fixie’ passed out and I went to bed.

Sunday was our last day. We all checked out and walked down the boardwalk to where we were the night before to a cute little restaurant where the food and the ambiance wasn’t subpar, for once. Sadly, can’t say the same about the service. Again, somehow we all did our own thing and ‘Fixie’ and I ended up alone gambling. We started pounding drinks. We gambled some more. I was not very lucky, him on the other hand, had the typical case of beginner’s luck. I was out 100 dollars, he made a last minute $400 with the 20 bucks I gave him thanks to Carrie, Samantha, Miranda, and Charlotte. We went back to the beach for a celebratory make out session.

We meet up with the rest of the group and waited for the bus back home. On the bus ride home we were cuddly for a second, but that’s not really him, and it’s not really me either, lately. I took a brief nap. The whole weekend ‘Fixie’, being the sexually liberated over-evolved gay man he is, was blatantly talking to other men for sex, although he made sure to always include me in the plans. It bothered me a bit, for some reason, although I’m not sure why, yet at the same time, it’s kind of comforting to watch him be so open about it. I woke up and blatantly asked him if we were having sex when we got back to Brooklyn. He said he was already talking to someone else, but he was free on Monday. I said I had a date. I guess there’s always next time.

We got back to New York. We all went our separate ways. I met up with my friend ‘Buck’ and co. for some night before night before last partying. Still being in my beachy pool mood, we ended up at the rooftop at the Gansevoort. Then Greenhouse. I was mighty wasted so I did my usual disappearing act and, unlike my usual self, proceeded to booty text both DJ and ‘Fixie’. Throughout the whole night, I could not shut up about ‘Fixie’. It felt nice. I don’t think I could date him, although I’ve been surprising myself left and right, but it was a great weekend. It felt great to have that sort of tender crush one has when naive, yet this time with the maturity to take it for what it is: just a crush.

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