Bad Idea
Friday March 31st 2006, 6:45 pm
Filed under: Miscellaneous, Truly Tags:

Whee! Special shouts out to the friend who was kind enough to, of her own free will and without any prompting, meet me up for a walk and chat, entertain me thoroughly, buy me a few drinks, feel sick from food poisoning, stagger back to my flat draped on my arm (which earned me those “ah, slipped her a roofie, didn’t ya” looks from frat boys/NY suits, the “you evil scumbag, you slipped her a roofie and you’re going to jail” from professionally-dressed women, andd “that looks like it’s gonna be pretty boring by the time you get her home” from legions of the cynical throughout SoHo and the East Village.). With friend resting in bed, YCT texts, to which I respond not in kind but in phone call. Which goes on for quite a while with no clear way into “what are you up to tonight.” Friend dying of food poisoning is now cold, miserable, has vomited at least once if not more, and wants to go home….to…..BROOKLYN. Cue cab, cue phone call saying I needed to get friend home, but would call from Brooklyn. Told the driver from the outset “two stops,” dropped friend off, pointed cabbie in right direction, called YCT and said “So, I’m coming over, where do you live again?” She had been trying to figure out how to get me over there anyhow…we are, remarkably, On The Same Page(tm). How often does that really happen? Anyhow, I’ll probably disappear for a while what with the happiness, YCT and all that. Or not. One friend voting for 6 weeks, just so breakup carnage can kick in while we still work together. I put the minimum at 8, until the end of classes, and the maximum at capital-T “Trouble.” Ah, bliss….unappealing to others, and not half as fun as bitter/hyper-sensitive Polish teenage drama queen, but we’ll see.

hurry up, wench
Thursday March 30th 2006, 2:34 am
Filed under: Miscellaneous, Truly Tags:

10 days. 10 days from when she left? But when people say they’re going on 10-day holidays, they tend to play a bit fast and loose with the “10” part. 10 nights? 10 days not counting travel days? Counting travel days? Some nefarious combination or variation thereof or thereupon? YCT ain’t back yet, but should be back soon. Or not. Remember, faithful reader, that YCT only arrived on St Paddy’s day, except inasmuch, of course, as she’s a Co-Teacher, and therefore somebody I see 5 days a week. Ohmygod. I really haven’t thought through THAT side of things. Yay! Something new to fret about! I’ve never had an office romance. (Well, ummm, not in the sense I first meant that sentence at least). I’ve never formally worked with someone and been involved at the same time. It’s excitingly tasteless! Some new transgression of mores it hadn’t occurred to me to transgress! Will it be obvious to all and sundry? She’s definitely capable of frosty ice-queen, as I discovered, having been lightly frozen in those quaint old pre-YCT days, so perhaps she won’t be the one to give it away. Me, I’m a touch more open-bookish. Vulnerable, even, as a friend put it recently on a long and luscious walk through Central Park. (Ah…the park….I am going to bloody miss this town. Although I’ve formally decided I’m going to re-fetishize London, rather than New York, as my soul’s true home. Too many bi-coastal sorts as it stands, I see ’em, and raise ’em a Pond. The sequel to the hit series on Channel 4 – LALON…hmmm.) So if not the immediate co-workers (and it’s a giant shared office, so rhythms and balances are delicate), well, that leaves the kids. Trapped in the throes of hormones, of being teenagers. They’ll smell it like blood, like fear. Or not. God, this is a deliciously bad idea. Stay tuned for drama updates as soon as she bloody gets back. Unless, of course, everything goes swimmingly. Then no updates. You takes your chances….and I stoled you’re chalks.

detracting distractions
Wednesday March 29th 2006, 4:59 am
Filed under: Miscellaneous, Truly Tags:

or, how i learned to live with the debt and stopped worrying about it. Or not, as the case may be. moneymoneymoneymoneymoney. Ate my fucking day, ate it like a lion scarfing a fucking rabbit. And it shall continue for a bit longer yet, the crisis born of my trying to be responsible and getting bit in the ass for it.

Did I mention I have grading to do? You know it’s grim when the grading seems flat out fabulously fucking appealing compared to the rest of the shit taking my time right now. Although last night’s drunken post is amusingly coherent.

Edit. I’m counting five love posts before the whingeing appeared. That, then, must be my “thing”, as a friend would put it. Not just ventriloquising interior monologues for others, not computerz, not just being the gay/straight/metro drama queen, but kvetching about it. Born to kvetch, as a different friend pointed out, alas has been taken as an autobiography title. Nothing like being in a hurry to get a momentous life/money thang out of the way so I can get back to shameless romantic lust with YCT. I should probably write EVV1, as well as QFF (Quickly Fading Friend), but bugger it.

and then
Tuesday March 28th 2006, 7:16 am
Filed under: Miscellaneous, Truly Tags:

dinner and drinks (and a splash of telly) with a friend. With a friend who is a friend because she’s a friend, not to be confused with the friend who’s a friend because she was a friend, and should be a friend, and probably will be a friend, but isn’t quite a friend at the moment. Mutually, probably, as friend (who’s a mutual friend) and I established this evening. I’ve chosen against spending abundant and frequent time with the friend who first took me in when arriving on these shores. (I spent 4 days there on their couch before moving to a flat of my own. Nobody has helped me move in this town, ever. Neither males nor females. They have money. I don’t. But I don’t know when at least offering to help people move got pulled off the table. It did, and does, piss me off.) So it has been a mutual process, agreeing to be distant, somehow, or at least a mutually recognised issue. Not one that can be cured with a walk and talk, as our mutual friend observed to me this evening. It’ll probably all be fine, with distance, with time. Perhaps I’m better with friendships with distance, with time. Unable to step up to the plate of daily reailty, distracted, as I am, by the possibility of love, however faint or farcical it appears to other.

Is that wrong? Even when I’ve been ludicrously wrong about suitable partners, is my ability to ditch friends ot pursue what, at least inasmuch as I think at the time, is love, hurtful? unjust? unbalanced? In some ways, I kindafuckinghopeso. Surely that’s the point, the definition of love. Just give me a few weeks of unbalanced, I’ll be back. But those few weeks, spread amongst four now five women, over 15 months, a month to six weeks per, suddenly one-third of my time here has been spent pursuing something else, in the midst of something “more important” than time (fine dinner, fine wine, fine conversation born of fine minds and long histories) with my friends. A character flaw, but non-understandable? A reasonable choice – you’re in love, why shouldn’t I be? Friend drama. I’m opposed to it, but particularly in the absence of lover possibilities (10 days – is that Wednesday? or Thursday? or even Friday?), well, lots of time for friend drama. Until, apparently, they leave for Panama on Wednesday. Nice to feel in the loop. Thanks, friend of friend….

Monday March 27th 2006, 12:21 am
Filed under: Miscellaneous, Truly Tags:

a vague sense of malaise, a vague depression, a vague sadness. To be leaving NY, as I wander its streets. To be alone, as I sit here, reading a well-written novel by a colleague, evocative but not devastating. Perhaps because of the money woes, the penultimate corner to turn, imminently? Accepting youthful indiscretions both emotional and financial, and taking on the cross-cum-albatross of the latter, at least, monthly payments and all. Scarily, I’ve probably taken on more emotional responsibility and accountability than financial.

The two nights of YCT not enough to do more than smooth over some rough edges. The rough edges of who I am with EVV1, with friends who are becoming unfriends if I’m not careful, and of not necessarily caring that much if that is indeed the case. I never really thought of myself as ambitious, mostly just arrogant with reasonably good reason, so it was a touch startling to hear a friend ask, “Was winning enough? Or will you get lost in trying for the next victory, the ever diminishing returns on conventional successes?” And I just fucking might. And is this a bad thing? In some ways the dichotomy ties back into what friend and I are silently not discussing but feuding about. God, my deepest darkest character flaw, a largely concealed and rarely indulged taste for musical theatre going back to coping with an ugly childhood, raises its pithy head, “Once I had dreams / now they’re obsessions / hopes became needs / lovers possessions.” Gag. Excuse me.

OK, me, snap the fuck out of it. Just hung over on a gray day.

in passing
Sunday March 26th 2006, 3:28 pm
Filed under: Miscellaneous, Truly Tags:

but not. rather than following the time honored formula of, or the infinitely less satisfying but occasionally spot-on overheard in new york, a Columbia oriented blog (found after trawling Gawker talking about some hot and heavy riot action going on in Morningside the other night…keep up, folks.) has what they’re calling digitalia – items and scraps from documents found on computers at Columbia and Barnard. OK, good concept, certainly. And this one perfectly captures how deep altruism runs in many of the over-achievers out there, “After working on global AIDS and tuberculosis (TB) in a developing country this past summer, I am convinced that I am interested in a consulting career.” Go forth, consult, and prosper…(link)

Note to (singular) reader: when the hangover clears, I shall probably write something of substance. Last night was unexpected. But not quite a return to the legendary “improbable” days of London departure. Hmm. I need a zeitgeist word that captures the exit period for NY. Though the only recent spontaneous addition to my vocabulary, embarassingly enough, and entirely connected to YCT but showing up in more general usage, is “hot.” I gotta do better than that. Suggestions gladly taken.

we interrupt
Saturday March 25th 2006, 3:24 pm
Filed under: Miscellaneous, Truly Tags:

the regularly scheduled broadcasts on love, money, and the otherwise lamentable state of my otherwise exquisitely perfect existence (depending, alas, on a complicated formula involving the temperature outside, the day of the week, and the rate at which my liver is detoxifying my blood of the formaldehyde-type substance produced in the processing of alcohol consumed last night, plus or minus 100%) to bring you the ultimate in political statements….

Marxist lego

Friday March 24th 2006, 6:37 pm
Filed under: Miscellaneous, Truly Tags:

Well, love will have to take a back seat to money for a moment here. I don’t know how many of you know, truly, what it is to live, breathe, sweat, sleep money, to know a two or three digit bank account balance to the penny, the time until the next paycheck to the hour, and how many weeks away it actually is. To combine the impossible poverty with a rejection of it as “beneath” me – I’d rather go hungry some days than fail, publicly, to buy a glass of wine casually, as if it weren’t three days’ groceries. At my age, no less. Part of it is criminal financial irresponsbility, and trust me, I’m fine admitting that. Part of it was the large five-figure sum donated to “The Ex to end all Exes” (Hmm. Professor Ex? Ahhh. SWMNBN – She Who Must Not Be Named. Purrrrrfect.) to keep her and various and sundry afloat. Because there’s nothing like a starving graduate student living off student loans to leech off of in a pinch. Anyhow, I made my (bad) decisions, made the bed, and despite scrubbing the sheets repeatedly, it’s still ugly, and I’m still in it. I’m back from the UK, and They found me yesterday, meaning whole new realms of the shit. Then, going to do my taxes today, I discoverd that 1) I earned an embarassingly small sum of money in 2005 and somehow managed to both quietly starve to death and also drink a lot of good wine and beer in Manfuckinghattan, and 2) Between fed and state, they want an additional 3% from me. Blood from a stone, fuckers, blood from a fucking stone. Thank god we don’t have debtor’s prison.

I’m grateful, too, that YCT is out of the picture at the moment. Much better to get this shit out of my system so I can fall back into the swoony unreality when she returns. Sigh.

the other phone call
Friday March 24th 2006, 2:43 am
Filed under: Miscellaneous, Truly Tags:

From EVV1. Now, that went badly. “Fuck you if I’m repeating myself. OK, goodbye.” I hate being hung up on.

Update. She called back. There were tears, a little bit of yelling, and all in all a very unhappy woman. I feel a right fucking asshole. To paraphrase a friend’s comments, “yeah, the old you ain’t back at all. He wouldn’t have blinked at this.” So I’ve got the asshole touch without the asshole soul…what a charming combination for all involved. Nevermind the fact I’m systematically lying to her about the reasons why, for which I don’t feel particularly bad – just the fact of it, and my own poor handling of the beginnings as much as the end. Though her rebuttal, “it’s not just about you,” should indeed serve to wedge its valid point into my head somehow.

Update 2. Is it wrong, basically, to have allowed the situation to arise where EVV1 was always going to be hurt, despite not actually intending or meaning to hurt her? Bollocks. I glanced at a few original tpt archives on the way back machine. I’m not obscure enough by half….

unexpected phone call
Thursday March 23rd 2006, 5:17 pm
Filed under: Miscellaneous, Truly Tags:

One, I’m still bloody dying for a cigarette. I think that EVV1’s run-prone healthy influence on me had me jonesing less for fags than the removal of all nicotine from my system would otherwise indicate. I haven’t caved yet – I think 6 months clean will be required before I attempt that holy grail of holy grails: the social smoker.

To get ahead of myself, YCT just called. From the University Parks in Oxford, no less. It’s difficult to explain how pivotal a place the parks were in my years there. They kept me sane my first year there, the daily walk across them, around them, through them, with them. The benches and the willow tree and the duck pond and the river. YCT called, totally unexpectedly, from the near the pond, wondering which Oxford was mine. Interesting that she should call, unknowingly, from one of the centres of my Oxford. She was wandering, wondering what Oxford was when there were no ties, no obligations, no responsibilities, when Oxford’s eternal neglect of “its own” doesn’t actually matter. I’ll never be there, as I’ll always have the books, the Bodleian, some one thing to do. Yet another bizarre reminder, though, of what it might have been like to be in Oxford with someone, rather than in Oxford apart from someone. YCT touched something deep and resonant with an unexpected dusk phone call from the parks. I wonder how much she’s playing me, playing the obviously reverberant strings…