the.applied.process.

wit. honesty. everyday ramblings.

Tag: ‘Mrs. O’

10.12.2011

King Of Pain

“There’s a little black spot on the sun today. It’s the same old thing as yesterday. There’s a black cat caught in a high tree top. There’s a flag-pole rag and the wind won’t stop.”

We were back in our bed and it felt great to wake up in it. Without wasting much time, we reverted to familiar habits and had our almost daily session of morning sexy time. A joint shower followed, and then work. I only stopped for a second at the office before returning to British Airways to finish our project there. After the 20 minutes of hard work, they threw a party for the inauguration of their new headquarters, and I was privileged enough to be invited.

I was feeling a bit anxious and still tired from the trip so I opted to take advantage of the free wine and numb myself normal. It didn’t work.

I tried distracting myself by befriending the sassy American-Italian receptionist I’d met on previous occasions, but that didn’t do much either.

I drank more and more till it was time to leave. Crippled, I took the train back to work where I was to meet ‘Nickle’ so we could walk the Williamsburg bridge back home and, although we’d planned a quite night just the two of us, we invited ‘Fixie’ to join us for dinner last minute.

After enjoying a cornucopia of grilled root vegetables, a couple of beers, and a few shots of whiskey, we went to the much missed Abbey to continue drinking and continue settling in to our mode de vie. Bad idea. I was still exhausted from the trip and that, plus the alcohol, plus my usual insanity ended up colliding into one massive clusterfuck of anxiety. I blew up. I am not exactly sure when, how, or why but it wasn’t pretty.

The bits and pieces I remember do not paint a pretty picture. I was uncontrollably emotional and somehow I managed to tell both ‘Fixie’ and ‘Nickle’ to leave me to my own self. Luckily, they were smart enough to fight me back and keep me in check. I, apparently, was also telling my babe not to leave because he was having a moment too and was about to step out. Like I said, I’m not really sure what went on but eventually I passed out with minimal damage done.

Wednesday I tried to pick up the pieces. ‘Nickle’ woke me up just as he was about to leave for work. Like I mentioned, I’m sure I was extremely exhausted because normally I wake up with him. He kissed me and said everything was alright. I walked to the kitchen table to find a note that read “Don’t let me fuck this up, please! I love you.” Are you kidding me!? I’m really not sure what happened, but what I am certain is that I should be the one writing such things. I laid in bed hoping I didn’t have to go to work because I was a complete emotional mess. Still exhausted. Still hung over. Still exposed.

I got up and talked to ‘Fixie’ who gave me his own version of the night. It was also spotty, but comforting in a weird way. I was not looking forward to work because I don’t like my job anymore. There! I said it. It does not bring me the joy and distraction from the rest of my life than it used to. Now I go to work because I have to. Because of my integrity. Because I care. Other than that, there really isn’t anything appealing. I practically work for free. I no longer want to be associated with the image the new boss has brought. I slowly and surely feel like I care less and less because other than me and a coworker, nobody seems to do so! Alright! Enough venting… back to the story.

I did end up taking a shower, freaking out, sucking it up, and going to work. Refer to the title. The bf and I made plans to have dinner together and have an early night. That thought lasted for a second. The lovely ‘Jose Maria’, ‘Viquers’, and ‘Fixie’ asked to meet for drinks, and ‘Nickle’ suggested going to Solas before venturing off to the ramen spot where we ate the second date we ever had. I, of course, obliged. I used to get mad about stuff like this, but I’ve come to realize that I shouldn’t. Although I often wish we could just go home, I can’t deny that I love to drink and go out. Maybe that’s the whole problem, it annoys me that I can’t say no although I really think I should sometime… but then again we go back to the thinking. I think too often. I think too much. I’m thinking. Right now. As I’m typing. More on that later…

And so we did. We ended up at Solas where, despite having agreed that maybe we should stop on the shots, we backtracked to “we’ll only take shots when offered, and not ask for them ourselves”. Who am I kidding? We are our own worst influence.

We left after a couple of beers and a couple of shots. To be honest, I did not feel anywhere near drunk. We nixed the noodle bar and somehow we ended in the middle of a shut-down 12th street at Motorino’s. Obama was dinning a few blocks west. We talked about the previous night and he reassured me I had his full support. It was all going well. I fell in love again. Deeper. Harder.

After the presidential caravan sped down the street just as we were ready to leave, we were allowed to step out into the sidewalk. We took the train back to Brooklyn and off into The Abbey we went. More unnecessary drinks and after taking a wrong turn somewhere between sanity and typical me, I lost it again. There was a little intervention performed. To my luck, everybody loves me and was trying to calm me down and be there with ‘Nickle’ who I feel like sometimes gets scared and does not know what to do with me. I’m not sure how much longer we stayed out.

Thursday morning we woke up to find all of our clothes strategically scattered around my room and spilling into the living room. We both could not remember what happened. And just like the weather, after the storm came the calm. We were being extremely affectionate with each other to the point where we fooled around, passed out, fooled around again, took a shower, and ‘Nickle’ ended up being late to work. He suggested we meet for lunch, but since we had already had our share of eating ass and sucking on dick, we figured we were pleasantly satiated for the afternoon. Instead, I skyped with ‘Jose Maria’ who gave me his always insightful two cents to the evening: we need to stop this cycle because it’s not going to be pretty later. I agreed.

I went to work with the same attitude and excitement I’d been having the past few days except this time I was a bit distracted daydreaming about the fact that I was going to see my old shrink for the first time in 21 months right after work! Right at 7pm I flew out the door and into the uptown 6 to go to 43rd and 2nd for a much needed paid 90 minutes of venting.

I should probably not disclose the exact details of my now reinstated weekly visits, but I will say this: the first time was eye opening. I was anxious and unstable the whole hour and a half and, although I felt somewhat comforted, I also felt more scared. I suppose it’s normal to feel that way since I was about to start tackling some skeletons that, just like I did, need to come out of the closet.

I left the shrink raw. First thing I did? I updated my Facebook status to state just that. I called ‘Jose Maria’ who instructed me to do anything but meet ‘Nickle’ since I was probably too emotional to do so. Instead, he suggested I come to Balthazar to meet him and the Greeks for ‘Tiny Narcissus’s’ going away dinner. I followed instructions.

The whole time I kept debating whether I wanted to drink or not and what time it would seem fitting to leave without making it seem like all I wanted to do was run into my baby’s arms and fall asleep on his chest. I drank. We ate. I calmed down for a second and before I knew it, we were paying for the bill and on our way out. The Greeks were going to The Standard and, although that sounded somewhat appealing since I hadn’t been there in months, I opted to join ‘Jose Maria’ for a couple of drinks at 10 Degrees so I could give him my two cents on the bartender who he currently fancies.

We took a cab to the bar and I continued to try and make sense of the plethora of emotions I was feeling. Nothing was coming out as expected. I wasn’t making much sense. I continued drinking and blabbering and going back and forth between thoughts. Useless. I made plans with ‘Nickle’ to meet at 11:45pm. It was 12:15am and I was still at the bar. I took a cab back to my place where I was supposed to meet the boyfriend, but I texted him right after getting off the bridge to find out that he was still at the bar where he’d been. I was a bit disappointed because that’s what I do. Sometimes I expect people to read my mind, and in my  mind I expected him to be home or at least on his way there. I let it go and just decided to meet him for a couple of more drinks. We cabbed it back home at a semi-decent hour and went to bed.

Upon waking up that Friday morning, ‘Nickle’ brought up a much obvious point: shots get us too crazy and we should probably refrain from taking them every single time we go out. He attributed his moment of Eureka to a talk he had with an old friend the previous night. Whatever it was, I was happy that one of us was actually thinking. No, I’ve never been a shot enthusiast, but I also don’t mind them, and I too practice other unwise behaviors I should probably reevaluate.

We were being lazy and really hung over so we didn’t shower. We’d been getting a lot into the intoxicating natural sent of our pits and, with that being established, we decided to skip the morning primping and instead add insult to injury by biking to work. Also, the bike ride would mean that later that night we’d have to bike back, and thus not get as wasted as we usually do. Yeah right…

I spent my day at work nursing my ill liver. I wanted to have a somewhat chill night so I emailed my boyfriend about a movie that had just opened and that I really wanted to see. The email went to Bulk Mail and right before I was about to leave, I texted him to ask why I never heard back. He mentioned he never saw the email and that he’d already made plans with friends to which I was, of course, invited. Drinks ensued at Solas.

Upon arriving, his friends noted that I was a bit off. They were right. I was. I’d been. On occasion, I still am. I blamed tiredness and the remnants of our exhausting Midwest road trip. They bought my story which bought me enough time to drink myself sane.

We were all hungry so we walked over to a ramen spot for some noodles. After food, some of the wiser crowd went home, the other went to a club, we were going to pick up our bikes and ride home but instead ended up back at Solas. We stayed for a couple of drinks till I received a text from the Greeks begging us to come to The Chelsea Hotel for ‘Tiny Narcissus’s’ last night out. With our best interest clearly in mind, we decided to oblige.

After the drunken bike ride to Chelsea, we finally arrived to our destination. We went in and danced and drank for a bit. I was a tad concerned of ‘Nickle’ and the Greeks getting along. They’re from two separate worlds in many different ways. I, being somewhere in the middle, can go one way or the other, but asking either of the other ends to trek to the opposite side is a bit more challenging. Regardless, he did better than I expected and, after losing himself in a few good tunes (I knew he’d like the music), we left to bike home. Big mistake.

Less than a block into my bike ride I stupidly ran into a parked SUV and hurt my leg. The numbing ethanol flowing through my veins provided just the right amount of anesthesia to allow me to get back on the bike and ride to the L train to somehow get home crippled but safe.The whole trip, ‘Nickle’ insisted on helping me out but I stubbornly kept trying to prove myself I could do it on my own so I wouldn’t let him. I ended up paying the price the morning after.

Saturday morning was my second of three intensive visits to the shrink. I woke up early and took a cab to her office as my man stayed home to run some much needed errands. The session was more intense than before. She commenced our talk with an apology for having, according to her, fallen for my showmanship and having spent a year worth of therapy dealing with issues which she claimed I used to mask the true underlying source of my anxiety. I’d go into the specific details regarding my homosexuality, money, codependency, and emotional withdrawal, but basically, it all boils down to daddy and mommy issues.

I left her office even more raw than before and even more terrified. The first thing I did was I called ‘Nickle’ to ask him if he was sure he wanted in because, if I was going to do this, I was probably going to have to do this with him by my side and, although it’s my own battle and I’m good at doing things on my own, sometimes I do need the support. He said he would and I firmly believe his words.

I left therapy and headed for work with an open wound. The day was not easy. What else is new?

That night, we made plans to go to the movies and then have dinner with ‘Martha’ and ‘Mrs. O’. After our first option was sold out, we ended up at The Angelika watching Martha, Marcy, May, Marlene which left a very sour taste in both our mouths and made me feel both hopeless (that I’ll never get better) and hopeful (that I’m not as fucked up as the main character). After the movie, we ventured to the awfully camp Hell’s Kitchen. We had a sip of wine at ‘Martha’s’ and then some food at a restaurant around the corner somewhere on 9th and the 40’s. Dinner was pleasant. From there we went to a dive bar a few blocks north to have a nightcap before heading back to Brooklyn. We took two shots and downed two beers. I received a text from a friend who used to live in the city but now lives in LA to inform me she was in town for the night and invite me to my other friend’s apartment for a drink since it was on the way home. We left Hell’s Kitchen and hailed a cab. Apparently, I had a moment in the cab. I do not remember the ride quite well. I do remember, however, stopping by my friend’s. I’m not sure how long we stayed but I assume it wasn’t long. We took another cab home and next thing I know (or… don’t know, actually) I was passed out and wasted.

I woke up on Sunday morning earlier than I wanted to because I wanted to make breakfast for us. I finished the remainder of the soyrizo ‘Ceviche Mama’ had mailed us from LA and made another scramble. I nixed the shower and ran out the door to my third and last shrink appointment. This time around, I felt more reassured than the previous two, and actually left feeling hopeful instead of devastatingly hopeless. I’d like to say that I think this is a good thing, but “worst case scenario” me irrationally thought already that it’s just that I was on a high, rather than a low, and that eventually it’ll all go back to the shitty usual. C’est la vie. The funniest thing about this is how I can totally recognize my behavior patterns, yet I feel completely powerless against them.

As planned, I walked over to the southeast corner of Central Park to meet ‘Nickle’ for a daytime date at the Guggenheim. On my way there, I spotted the holiday Lady Gaga workshop entrance at Barney’s and suggested to my babe that we check it out because, you know, that’s what the gays do. We spent about an hour and eighty-five dollars and then we got back on track. We decided to walk up by the park on 5th ave towards the museum because, you know, that’s what cute gay couples do on a Sunday afternoon. We got side tracked yet again, and instead of heading to the Gug, we ended at the Met. I became a member of my favorite museum in New York and we dilly dallied for a few hours till we decided to forget about the Maurizio Cattelan exhibit and just head to The Seahorse Tavern  for some early dinner before heading back to Brooklyn.

Dinner was splendid. We obviously had drinks but we limited the shots to just two. We were doing progress.

Our Sunday all day date continued with the obvious: a movie. We met up with ‘Fixie’, ‘Clive’, and ‘Gwen’ for a double (and a half) date to watch The Muppets. The movie was exactly what was needed to redeem the experience of watching the other utterly depressing movie the night before. It was light, it was witty, it was funny, it was right. My only complaint was that I was feeling a bit anxious and sometime towards the end a girl sitting right behind me had an epileptic seizure that scared the shit out of everyone inside the theatre. All I kept thinking as I stared in fear was that I was even more afraid of being in a similar situation and not knowing what to do. Yes, sometimes the anxiety is that much.

We left the theatre and walked over to a bar called The Boat where they were having x-mas craft night. We started drinking without any shots in mind and I frantically tried to keep myself busy to keep myself from giving in to the extraordinarily high levels of anxiety I was feeling. I was on the edge and neither the alcohol, nor the crafts were helping with my manic state. After a few drinks I managed to control it to the point where it was bearable. Because of my mania, I outcrafted everyone in the room and the bartender rewarded me with a shot. Just before leaving, two more followed.

We all disbanded and we walked back to the G train to head north to Williamsburg.

The train ride was a bit better. My babe noticed my state and commented on it. I told him that sometimes I just really want to control it all by myself so that’s why I chose not to ask for help. We went home, talked for a bit, I freaked out for a few, and then we crowned the amazing day with some much wanted butt sex just before going to bed. I didn’t use a condom.

That week is probably one of the most emotionally draining weeks I’ve had in a long time. I ripped some bandages, created new wounds, and reopened some old ones. It is the first time in a really long time that I’ve felt scared. Scared of myself, but not in a “teenage crazy” kind of way. I know my place in this world, and I’m not going anywhere. My only comment is that, just how I told my shrink, I never did plan for much of a future, and now that things are going great with work and the boyfriend, I’m just absolutely terrified of it. I don’t know how to act, and I fear I’m just going to make mistakes and lose everything. Mom and Dad issues.

I love my man, and the whole condom situation meant more than a careless act (like many people might think). I had promised myself I would never do that again after my ex, not because I was cheated on, but because I didn’t think I could ever develop that level of trust towards someone else. Am I worried about STD’s? Of course! I’m the king of hypochondria. Do I think he will give me something? Absolutely not! Unless he’s very secretly having random unprotected sex when he’s at work, I know he’s clean and he wouldn’t ever think to jeopardize us. How would I react if something happened? To be honest, I can live with an STD, you take a pill and you go on with your day. The real killer is the loss of trust. There are definitely no pills in the whole universe to recover that.

“I have stood here before inside the pouring rain with the world turning circles running ’round my brain, I guess I’m always hoping that you’ll end this reign, but it’s my destiny to be the king of pain.”

1 Comment
03.12.2011

You Da One

“Cause you know how to give me that, you know how to pull me back when I go runnin, runnin tryin’ to get away from loving ya. You know how to love me hard. I won’t lie, I’m falling hard. Yep, I’m falling for ya but there’s nothin wrong with that.”

“I am thankful for Penis” were the words I uttered right before I proceeded to spit on the table the shell of the almond I had just cracked with my teeth. That should give you a preview of the shenanigans that ensued after the exhausting 13 hour overnight drive to Chicago, but I’m getting ahead of myself, first things first.

Wednesday I got up with ‘Nickle’ earlier than usual because we had a very busy and very long day ahead of us. I ate breakfast, showered, made my duffle bag, packed my pooch in his carrier, and called a cab to take me to the west side to drop him off at a pet hotel on Spring and Greenwhich. I then asked the cabbie to wait for me so he could drop me off at work instead of lugging my luggage all the way across town. Half way down the road, I realized I had forgotten my pup’s food.

I didn’t stay too long at work, I had errands to run at British Airways so I left earlyish. I was also in charge of getting to Jersey City before 4pm to pick up the rental car we reserved for the road trip. I got to the Budget offices at around 3pm and dealt with New Jersey incompetence at it’s finest. After about 45 minutes, I had the car and I started my drive back across the Holland tunnel and into the city. I tackled the horrendous commuter clusterfuck that was downtown Manhattan and some how managed to get back to the gallery a couple of hours after I said I’d be back. I googled places to buy the apparently very specific kibble my picky canine eats as I waited for ‘The Wife’ to come meet me since she had asked us for a drive to Ohio. The task proved to be harder than expected and, after a few frustrating phone calls, I finally located the food at a pet store near where ‘Nickle’ works.

We picked up the car from the garage and drove south in the slightly less trafficy sea of cabs and cars. I purchased the food, picked up ‘Nickle’ and ‘Judy’, redeemed my canine mistake, and finally started driving west to our Thanksgiving extravaganza.

Although the drive there and back is probably one of the most significant parts of the trip, it was also one of the most exhausting. Thus, it is kind of hard to describe it because it all just seems to melt into one blurry lapse of no sleep, stress, lots of junk food, shitting in gross toilets, and uncomfortable seating positions.

The first trek was from New York to Jersey to somewhere in the middle of Pensilvania where, after 4 hours of stopping a few times at gas stations and rest stops, ‘Judy’ paid her dues and I took over the wheel. I drove for the next five. A couple of hours into my turn, I dropped off ‘The Wife’ at a bus stop in Cleveland, refilled the gas tank, and drove another for a bit more as ‘Nickle’ performed some illegal acts on me to try and keep me awake and focused. I stopped him somewhere on the Ohio portion of I-90 right as a cop car was shinning its headlights on us. Thankfully there were no arrests.

My boyfriend became the driver right before the sun was about to come out. He drove us through the rest of Ohio and into Indiana where we stopped in Gary for some much needed coffee and breakfast food. By this point, we were all very delirious. ‘Judy’, who’d been sleeping the whole time we were driving, valiantly offered to play chauffeur the rest of the way. She drove us into Chicago as ‘Nickle’ napped in the back, and I continued plucking my nose hairs to stay up and keep her company.

Upon arriving to our destination, I was a bit terrified that our hosts, ‘Seek’ and his family, who had most likely gotten more sleep than us, were going to be ready to start partying because they were excited to see us. For a second, ‘Nickle’ joked about having shots ready for the moment we stepped in, I told him I needed to sleep. Thankfully, everyone was still tired because, even though they had slept more than us, they hadn’t slept enough due to the obvious celebratory air we were all breathing.

After kissing and hugging everyone, I strategically positioned myself on the couch and held my baby’s head next to my chest to lull him to sleep. My plan worked and we napped for a couple of hours.

We woke up in time to freshen up, tag the shower floor with our genetic signature, and go on a booze run. I still needed more sleep, but I figured I’d just start drinking and forget about banal human needs. Indeed the shots and the beers came. Within an hour I had a comfortable buzz. ‘Sarah’, ‘Seek’s’ business partner, was hosting dinner at her place. As instructed, we left for her apartment at around 5pm only to realize that food wouldn’t be ready for another couple of hours. Instead of waiting for solids, we continued drinking our calories at our host’s, and later at a bar around the corner.

After a few more shots, beer, wine, and whatever else we could find, we made it back to dinner just in time for me to be thankful for Penis, and my man to slur how grateful he is to have me in his life. The rest gets blurry.

Some time between the turkey (or tofurkey in my case) and dessert, I tried to help fluff some whip cream only to spill it all over the kitchen floor. I took this as my cue to call it a night and, after talking to ‘Nickle’ about it, we decided to head back to our Chicago home. We didn’t even leave the couch when ‘Judy’ cleverly suggested we take a nap in the coat closet, and wake up a couple of hours later in time for us to join the rest of the crew who were planning on returning to the bar we previously visited. At 2:30 pm, I rose from my slumber in a freak out because I was did not instantly recognize where exactly I was. I got up and went to the shower where I ran into ‘Sarah’ who informed me that everyone had been gone for a few hours already.

Ironically, we fooled around in the closet, had a slice of chocolate pumpkin pie, and passed out again for another much needed few hours.

Friday morning, after a long 12 hour nap, we woke up refreshed and ready for what ever mayhem would ensue. We ate more pie and chit chatted a bit till ‘Judy’ picked us up to go to ‘Hunt’s’ apartment to shower before partaking in some post-Thanksgiving brunch. Another session of stroking each other’s genitals under the shower head, and we were out in the car on our way to a restaurant on West Chicago Avenue who’s name escapes me now. We ate a hearty Midwest meal which we downed with beers and bloody marys, and then we made a quick pit stop at ‘Hunt’s’ vintage store a couple of blocks away before heading North West to the second leg of our holiday road trip: Milwaukee.

Since the reason for us going to Brew City was to visit ‘Judy’s’ family, she offered to drive. The hour and a half trip was nothing compared to the gargantuan overnight cruise we’d taken 36 hours earlier, but I still wasn’t feeling like driving, and I wanted to write on the blog so I didn’t complain. We made a couple mandatory pit stops at gas stations to get more gum, snacks, and junk food, before finally arriving to her parents’ house just in time for dinner.

My favorite part of this part of the trip was the contrast between the more “friend vibe” we had experienced the night before, and the more “family aura” we felt at that time. It was just the break I needed since I am beginning to realize that my anxiety gets worse when I overwork myself.

We devoured some lasagna (or fish, in my case, since I don’t eat warm blooded animals), salad, and whiskey, and then we decided to check if the city lived up to its nickname by going to a few dive bars near the river, but not before trying the staple frozen custard dessert at one of the three different Kopp’s in Milwaukee. Normally this is not something I would crave and, although I didn’t finish it, I do have to admit that the treat was pretty tasty.

The bars in Beertown were just what I would’ve expected. They had a more collegey vibe than our usual watering holes in New York. In true chameleon form, I adapted and partook in a game of darts which, as much as I can adapt it does not mean I’m competent, I lost. We left downtown to head to a party that I don’t remember because I was already wasted. We didn’t stay long either. We ended up back at ‘Judy’s’ in her hot tub for a full 15 minutes before crashing on a futon in the basement.

Saturday morning we left more of our life juice at ‘Judy’s’ parents’ before coming up for some breakfast with the whole family. Our friend ran some errands with her mom, but we stayed behind to take a shower. Instead, we just ended up kissing and taking a quick nap. She came back to pick us up and we went to explore the city during the day. Despite having eaten food a few hours earlier, ‘Nickle’ demanded a hot dog and we obliged. To my utmost surprise, the Midwest establishment was so good I can almost say it was better than our very own Criff Dogs and, yes, they even featured veggie sausages.

We finished our second meal and walked around the local thrift stores as we digested our gluttonous transgression. I am not necessarily the biggest fan of thrifting but, again, this man is making me evolve, I enjoyed it and even purchased a couple of things. We headed back to ‘Judy’s’ to pack our bags and start our drive back to the Windy City.

Before getting back on the freeway, we stopped at Kopp’s yet again to have a fish sandwich and more frozen custard. Yes, that is also something that’s different about me: I now eat like a swine. This time around, we tamed our overstuffed stomachs by walking around the atrium of the Santiago Calatrava designed Milwaukee Art Museum.

After taking the mandatory pictures, ‘Nickle’ finally drove us back to Chicago.

We got back to the city in time for another shower and dinner. My one request during this trip was for some classic Chicago deep dish slices. I was still terribly stuffed from the three meals I’d already consumed but somehow I managed to fit in a slice and some beer. The night, as expected, was going to be a long one and I wanted to make sure I had something to soak up the copious amounts of whiskey and fermented hops I was sure to consume.

The party continued at a bar somewhere in the Ukranian Village called the Innertown Pub. For some reason (I think it was exhaustion) I was a bit antsy, but I decided to just relax, and have a good time with my boy’s friends. The night was really fun. ‘Sarah’ had asked ‘Nickle’ for his cell phone and was looking at our history through text messages which was cute, both ‘Seek’ and his sister, ‘Mrs. O’, kept telling me how happy they were that he was happy with me and, somehow, everything just felt alright with the universe. The anxiety went away.

We finished the night back at the bar where we’d been on Thanksgiving night. More shots, more beers, and at around 3:30 am I passed out.

On our last day in the Midwest, I woke up next to ‘Nickle’ and laid in bed for a bit as we talked about the previous night. He mentioned how he had to pee sometime in the early morning and got up to do so only to see ‘Seek’ still up and drinking. He smoked a hit with him, took a shot, and then went back to bed with me. This was important because part of my worry about the trip was our quitting smoking and if we were going to be able to stay strong amidst all the temptation, and also because he’s usually the one who needs me to help him with the cravings when we’re drunk. He told me this with the biggest smile of accomplishment mentioning how he was happy he did it alone. I was happy for him as well.

We got off bed, took showers, went to ‘Seek’s’ store, then to brunch next door, and then back to the shop to thrift some more. The farewell was a bit emotional, but not as emotional as it’s been in previous instances.

This time, I volunteered to drive us out of Chicago and towards Indianapolis, our next and almost last stop of the trip. There was a steady amount of annoying traffic the whole way and, while we were expecting to make it there by 7 pm at the latest, we didn’t get to my sister-in-law’s till well past that.

To be honest, this was what I was looking forward to the most about the whole experience. I wanted to see ‘Nickle’ with his family and it meant something to me that he so adamantly wanted me to meet her. We wanted to spend the night but, because of issues with returning the rental car, all we could afford to do is go to the neighborhood Applebee’s and have a quick dinner before starting yet another monstrous overnight 13 hour drive.

I offered again to drive for the first part. ‘Judy’ slept in the back and I took us 4 hours into Columbus where we were going to pick up ‘The Wife’. The anxiety had been present for most of that and I felt like I needed the rest so I asked ‘Judy’, who’d been sleeping the whole time, to take charge as I laid in the backseat on my lover. This time, we slept a bit more.

After four hours, she asked for a relay and ‘Nickle’ obliged. He put a very valiant two and a half hour effort before I made him switch with me again because he seemed like he was going to pass out and kill us all. We exchanged places at a rest stop and I asked him to just keep me company because I was also feeling drained.

Towards the last hour of our last pit stop, we hit a bit of traffic. By this point everyone in the car was awake and we were all deliriously trying to keep me awake. Somehow, someway, we made it to Philadelphia where ‘Nickle’ and I made the executive decision of taking a nap at ‘The Wife’s’ apartment before attempting to finish the drive and potentially die in the process.

The couple of hours of eyes shut were just what we needed and, although my anxiety was at full speed, I felt significantly better. We decided to go to brunch before finally getting back to the city so we drove to Honey’s somewhere on 3rd street. The food was surprisingly delicious. Philly tends to have a fame for having subpar restaurants. We stopped by a plant store, the girls purchased some leafy decorations, and we dropped off ‘The Wife’ back at her place on the way out.

‘Judy’ drove the rest of the way as I laid in the back seat freaking out here and there, and secretly wishing that ‘Nickle’ would just touch me to remind me I’m still here. My mind reader appropriately did so a few times.

The first borough we stepped foot in was Staten Island, we drove by it and over the Verrazano bridge and into Brooklyn. We dropped ‘Judy’ off at her place, dropped off our stuff at mine’s, and picked up ‘Toto’ back in Manhattan before finally leaving the state again to go to New Jersey to return the rental. It felt great to be back in the city four a couple of hours.

Finally, the true end of our trip begun with taking the PATH train back to 14th street to then take the L to Brooklyn. We stopped for some groceries, and then headed to my apartment to make some dinner. We got side tracked by some much needed de-stressing sexy time. We took a shower to wash away our sin, enjoyed a home cooked meal, talked about the trip, and repeated our transgressions by having a second round of blow jobs. After climaxing we instantly passed out on the couch.

I woke up a few hours later to ask my babe to come join me in our actual bed.

The Midwest was not what I expected. It was less crazy that I thought, yet my anxiety was significantly worse than what I had hoped it would be. The drive went smoother than I had foreseen, yet I was more exhausted than I had imagined. And just when I thought the worst in terms of anxiety was over… the rest of my week was about to start.

“And Yes I’m kinda crazy, that’s what happens baby, when you put it down you should’ve give it to me. Good like that, should’ve hit it like that, had me yellin’ like that. Didn’t know you would’ve had me coming back.”

 

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