Mar 2009
Countdown
Well this is going to be short... For once. Am I right?! Eh? High five! Zing!
Went to a great show last night. It was part theater/comedy and part actual musicianship. Les Funky Bitches Fantasique at the Sidewalk Cafe. I went because some friendly acquaintances were in the show and the audience. And there were possibly going to be a lot of them. In fact, there were only two. But they’re top of my list of friendly acquaintances (has anyone come up with a word for that? did I in a past blog? I should now... associates? no.) that I like and really enjoy being around. So it was a great time. I encourage you to see the group perform on like a second date. Perfect second date.
And my mom arrives in 4 hours! We’re gonna chillax, have a nice dinner at a steakhouse here in the neighborhood, probably clean my apartment, go for a walk. She’s here to be my date to the big awards show I’m part of tomorrow. In which I may win two awards, but probably not because super super awesome things only happen to me once per year, and they usually wait until the end. Or did I just make that ridiculous shit up? Yes. Yes I did.
Went to a great show last night. It was part theater/comedy and part actual musicianship. Les Funky Bitches Fantasique at the Sidewalk Cafe. I went because some friendly acquaintances were in the show and the audience. And there were possibly going to be a lot of them. In fact, there were only two. But they’re top of my list of friendly acquaintances (has anyone come up with a word for that? did I in a past blog? I should now... associates? no.) that I like and really enjoy being around. So it was a great time. I encourage you to see the group perform on like a second date. Perfect second date.
And my mom arrives in 4 hours! We’re gonna chillax, have a nice dinner at a steakhouse here in the neighborhood, probably clean my apartment, go for a walk. She’s here to be my date to the big awards show I’m part of tomorrow. In which I may win two awards, but probably not because super super awesome things only happen to me once per year, and they usually wait until the end. Or did I just make that ridiculous shit up? Yes. Yes I did.
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There's always the bar
Mar/21/09 02:18 PM Filed in: Play
I decided to go out for breakfast this morning. I didn’t even worry a whole lot about the money this time, although why a guy has to drop fifteen bucks every time he sits down to eat these days is beyond me. I suppose I could have shown some self restraint. In any case, it was visually a stunning late morning. The air was crisp and the sun bright, and people were all out with the same idea: breakfast. And maybe a walk. But mostly people were sitting in places that serve food and or coffee in groups of 2 or 3 or 4. Very convivial.
So I decide, since it’s been a very long time since I’ve eaten at a local restaurant, and since it was one of the first places I went to when I moved here, to eat at this giant diner down the street. This place is huge. And popular.
I generally feel guilt when i walk into a restaurant with a bar and insist on being seated at a table. I can see the calculation in the host’s eyes and hear the protests going through his or her mind. And Saturday afternoon is big business for places like this. So this time when I walk in I head straight for the bar and grab a stool. And there was a dapper young stylish couple sitting there too! I tell you, this neighborhood’s going places. Once the edgy cool-hunters cram as many of themselves as possible into the impoverished and dangerously gritty ghetto right above this area, they will be forced to embrace my middle american oasis with it’s large, cheap apartments and naive attempts to be trendy (some new bars opened. Gag).
Anyway, this old guy grabs the seat right next to me, which is annoying because i like to have space around me when i eat in solitude. And old guys get talky. But I tend to forget on occasions like this that I probably would love to talk, and who am I to refuse an opportunity to be social with all my whining about the isolation and loneliness?
So he talks to me and I listen. And I participate. And it turns out he’s an old Turkish film actor, and an accomplished ballroom dancer (Latin styles, only), and he attempts to start up a conversation about soccer but stops himself because I’m American and I know nothing about it. Which I agree with. I know nothing about it... but I also know nothing about any of the sports because really it takes way too much effort to follow that shit.
So he shows me his iphone, which has bookmarked a page in Turkish with all the scores of all the games in Turkey. I ooh and aaah, and tell him I don’t have one yet and that I’m impressed. We joke about how, now that you can get the temperature instantly on your phone, you don’t have to go outside anymore. Then he tells me about a recent medical procedure he’s had and how competent and wonderful the medical services in this country are. I hesitate to nod enthusiastically to this one, as I’m thinking about my own recent “travails” but this doesn’t derail the conversation. Then he mutters something about women getting too fat these days with their huge asses, not being able to entice decent men. I reply that some guys like them, and there’s someone for everybody out there, if they look hard enough. To this he replies that I probably don’t need to settle for the fat girls, as I’m in good shape, like he was as an attractive young actor in Turkey.
Finally, he tells me about his wife who is 21 years younger than he is, who has been his wife for 30 years, and who tells him she loves him every day. This feels like a big deal to me. So I congratulate him and do a little reflecting on my own life and my own experience with devoted younger women (woman). They really are fantastic, by the way.
As I get up to leave he looks me up and down and remarks that I must be returning home to my beautiful girlfriend. I tell him I don’t have one and he gives me another look and pronounces in a full-bodied throaty turkish accented english that I’ll be having quite the success with the ladies and that they had better get ready.
There was a lot to this guy and my first instinct was to bury my nose in my book and try to get him to leave me alone. But I fought it, and he turned out to be very entertaining and a good self esteem booster. Luckily I also seem to have the urge to talk to strangers at bars, be they breakfast or after hours.
So I decide, since it’s been a very long time since I’ve eaten at a local restaurant, and since it was one of the first places I went to when I moved here, to eat at this giant diner down the street. This place is huge. And popular.
I generally feel guilt when i walk into a restaurant with a bar and insist on being seated at a table. I can see the calculation in the host’s eyes and hear the protests going through his or her mind. And Saturday afternoon is big business for places like this. So this time when I walk in I head straight for the bar and grab a stool. And there was a dapper young stylish couple sitting there too! I tell you, this neighborhood’s going places. Once the edgy cool-hunters cram as many of themselves as possible into the impoverished and dangerously gritty ghetto right above this area, they will be forced to embrace my middle american oasis with it’s large, cheap apartments and naive attempts to be trendy (some new bars opened. Gag).
Anyway, this old guy grabs the seat right next to me, which is annoying because i like to have space around me when i eat in solitude. And old guys get talky. But I tend to forget on occasions like this that I probably would love to talk, and who am I to refuse an opportunity to be social with all my whining about the isolation and loneliness?
So he talks to me and I listen. And I participate. And it turns out he’s an old Turkish film actor, and an accomplished ballroom dancer (Latin styles, only), and he attempts to start up a conversation about soccer but stops himself because I’m American and I know nothing about it. Which I agree with. I know nothing about it... but I also know nothing about any of the sports because really it takes way too much effort to follow that shit.
So he shows me his iphone, which has bookmarked a page in Turkish with all the scores of all the games in Turkey. I ooh and aaah, and tell him I don’t have one yet and that I’m impressed. We joke about how, now that you can get the temperature instantly on your phone, you don’t have to go outside anymore. Then he tells me about a recent medical procedure he’s had and how competent and wonderful the medical services in this country are. I hesitate to nod enthusiastically to this one, as I’m thinking about my own recent “travails” but this doesn’t derail the conversation. Then he mutters something about women getting too fat these days with their huge asses, not being able to entice decent men. I reply that some guys like them, and there’s someone for everybody out there, if they look hard enough. To this he replies that I probably don’t need to settle for the fat girls, as I’m in good shape, like he was as an attractive young actor in Turkey.
Finally, he tells me about his wife who is 21 years younger than he is, who has been his wife for 30 years, and who tells him she loves him every day. This feels like a big deal to me. So I congratulate him and do a little reflecting on my own life and my own experience with devoted younger women (woman). They really are fantastic, by the way.
As I get up to leave he looks me up and down and remarks that I must be returning home to my beautiful girlfriend. I tell him I don’t have one and he gives me another look and pronounces in a full-bodied throaty turkish accented english that I’ll be having quite the success with the ladies and that they had better get ready.
There was a lot to this guy and my first instinct was to bury my nose in my book and try to get him to leave me alone. But I fought it, and he turned out to be very entertaining and a good self esteem booster. Luckily I also seem to have the urge to talk to strangers at bars, be they breakfast or after hours.
Cold turkey sounds delicious
Mar/19/09 10:09 PM Filed in: Friends
Recently I’ve grown aware of the fact that the internet is fueling inside me a quiet desperation paired with a low smoldering rage. And I don’t think that’s good. Of course by “internet” I don’t mean the whole thing, although there would be some truth in saying it’s eroding my quality of life in subtle ways. But in other ways it’s been liberating, so I won’t throw the baby out with the bath water....
Or I should say, I’m keeping the bathwater and throwing out the baby. The baby would be facebook. Why facebook? Well here goes a rant: As people who know me may be aware (and one friend pretty insensitively posted on my “wall”), I’m obsessed with the concept of friendship, and the state of having friends. I’m probably not professionally qualified to judge exactly what it is in my psyche that’s got me tweaked about it all, but I’ll take a stab. I’m indulging myself by posting this here because I think there may be evidence that it is something common to many men my age, and may soon become a mass cultural phenomenon. My evidence?
The movie I Love You Man, about a guy who doesn’t have any guy friends close enough to be his best man at his wedding. There have been others that hint at similar problems, although I think this is a first to make it the central theme. So the phenomenon I’m inventing here is dudes in their 30s who don’t have guy friends. I’ll add “who don’t have many real friends” to that, just because it’s likely the dude with only gal friends has probably slept with many of them, and as I’m coming to understand myself, that leaves certain snags in the relationship which prevent the friendship from being as carefree and rewarding as I fantasize about them being.
Anyway, I don’t think I understand what real friendship is. Because I have very very few deep friendships that stand up to any sort of stress. In fact if I were to be totally honest, I’d have to say I don’t think I have any. But maybe I actually do and I just don’t know what that means. Here’s the thing, Facebook lets me see that there are tons of people who I would love to be spending time with who are having parties and doing things together without me. And it’s KILLING me. But this isn’t anything new to me. I seem to have always had a hard time getting friends to consistently include me in plans.
My mother always said that I should be more active and invite people to things instead. Which has planted the seed of self blame which has matured and borne tons of fruit. Fruit in the form of neuroses, fears, suspicions, anger, dejection, etc, etc, blah blah. Because she has a point. I don’t make plans. Because I mean who likes rejection?! In fact I DO make plans and they are always rejected. But then again it’s not like I try very hard. I’m scared shitless by the thought of picking up a phone and asking some dude if he wants to hang. So shitless that if I get voicemail I leave a half-assed vague message (or sometimes very specific, but passive, like “I’ll be at the Cake Shop tonight for a show, what’s up?”) and leave it at that. Or the mass text asking what’s going on this weekend. People seem to never respond to those. The thing is that I would respond. I would respond to every single query by a friendly acquaintance (I need a word for friends you can’t fully depend on but like to see) as to what my plans may or may not be, and generally would welcome their attendance. So I feel like it’s ok for me to do it too; and feel bad when no one answers.
A would-be friend recently told me, when I straight up asked her why she hadn’t invited me to a potluck dinner at her place, that I wasn’t on her A-list and would have to try harder to hang out with her more before I could expect that kind of participation in her life. The problem with that is I take that seriously (and I had been trying, in fact). I feel like it’s my fault she didn’t want me there (2 closer friends of mine were there). So where does that leave me? Desperately trying to do the right things that will make people want to invite me to their stupid birthday parties and dinner parties and concerts on facebook. And feeling crushed when I’m not. Even though I know that I’m both expecting way too much from people and giving far too little.
In the meantime I’m going to attempt to not visit facebook except to answer emails. Good luck with that, me.
LINKS!
This is a fascinating article on friendship from some BBC magazine.
Where I go to figure out what I’ll be doing alone this weekend.
Or I should say, I’m keeping the bathwater and throwing out the baby. The baby would be facebook. Why facebook? Well here goes a rant: As people who know me may be aware (and one friend pretty insensitively posted on my “wall”), I’m obsessed with the concept of friendship, and the state of having friends. I’m probably not professionally qualified to judge exactly what it is in my psyche that’s got me tweaked about it all, but I’ll take a stab. I’m indulging myself by posting this here because I think there may be evidence that it is something common to many men my age, and may soon become a mass cultural phenomenon. My evidence?
The movie I Love You Man, about a guy who doesn’t have any guy friends close enough to be his best man at his wedding. There have been others that hint at similar problems, although I think this is a first to make it the central theme. So the phenomenon I’m inventing here is dudes in their 30s who don’t have guy friends. I’ll add “who don’t have many real friends” to that, just because it’s likely the dude with only gal friends has probably slept with many of them, and as I’m coming to understand myself, that leaves certain snags in the relationship which prevent the friendship from being as carefree and rewarding as I fantasize about them being.
Anyway, I don’t think I understand what real friendship is. Because I have very very few deep friendships that stand up to any sort of stress. In fact if I were to be totally honest, I’d have to say I don’t think I have any. But maybe I actually do and I just don’t know what that means. Here’s the thing, Facebook lets me see that there are tons of people who I would love to be spending time with who are having parties and doing things together without me. And it’s KILLING me. But this isn’t anything new to me. I seem to have always had a hard time getting friends to consistently include me in plans.
My mother always said that I should be more active and invite people to things instead. Which has planted the seed of self blame which has matured and borne tons of fruit. Fruit in the form of neuroses, fears, suspicions, anger, dejection, etc, etc, blah blah. Because she has a point. I don’t make plans. Because I mean who likes rejection?! In fact I DO make plans and they are always rejected. But then again it’s not like I try very hard. I’m scared shitless by the thought of picking up a phone and asking some dude if he wants to hang. So shitless that if I get voicemail I leave a half-assed vague message (or sometimes very specific, but passive, like “I’ll be at the Cake Shop tonight for a show, what’s up?”) and leave it at that. Or the mass text asking what’s going on this weekend. People seem to never respond to those. The thing is that I would respond. I would respond to every single query by a friendly acquaintance (I need a word for friends you can’t fully depend on but like to see) as to what my plans may or may not be, and generally would welcome their attendance. So I feel like it’s ok for me to do it too; and feel bad when no one answers.
A would-be friend recently told me, when I straight up asked her why she hadn’t invited me to a potluck dinner at her place, that I wasn’t on her A-list and would have to try harder to hang out with her more before I could expect that kind of participation in her life. The problem with that is I take that seriously (and I had been trying, in fact). I feel like it’s my fault she didn’t want me there (2 closer friends of mine were there). So where does that leave me? Desperately trying to do the right things that will make people want to invite me to their stupid birthday parties and dinner parties and concerts on facebook. And feeling crushed when I’m not. Even though I know that I’m both expecting way too much from people and giving far too little.
In the meantime I’m going to attempt to not visit facebook except to answer emails. Good luck with that, me.
LINKS!
This is a fascinating article on friendship from some BBC magazine.
Where I go to figure out what I’ll be doing alone this weekend.
Days can suck
Well, so why does today suck, you might be wondering? Yeah? Ok... first, the medical bullshit. So I recently got billed for my last visit to the stomach specialist, which was a follow-up to my upper endoscopy, which revealed I have acid reflux... The bill had a charge for a test that wasn’t done. And now i’m wondering if I should report these assholes to my insurance provider, because they have cut me a check for the amount and they also put a nice toll-free number on it for reporting insurance fraud. So I called the doctor to see how he would react.
And this is why I sometimes love but mostly hate this fucking city. You are forced to constantly and actively fight for yourself. It happens when you get a sandwich at a deli, it happens when you buy an apartment, and apparently it happens when you see a specialist about your recent diagnosis of GERD. The other guy is ALWAYS testing your boundaries, trying to squeeze you for as much as they can, or trying to get away with doing as little as possible, and it can be a good way to build up some more aggressive skills. But it gets OOOLLLDDDDD. Especially when people who are supposed to be taking care of you get pushy.
So the guy was like, “So what, it was like 3 dollars more?” And I’m like, no it was six. But that’s not the point. So he asks, “Well then what do you want to happen?”
Fuck. If only I had prepared a list of possible ways they could make this up to me beforehand. I wasn’t ready for him to put it back on me, but it’s a pretty classic maneuver here in the city, so I should’ve been. Anyway, my response was that if i ever actually DO have to have this test done, they need to do it for free. “Ok, sure.” he said. “Is that all?”
Asshole. Of course it won’t be that simple in the unlikely event that i really do need the test. First off, I will have gone to a different specialist because I’ll be damned if I EVER go back to that prick. Which brings me to the other part of that whole episode that has got me all upset: I called my general practice doctor to see if he had received all the test info from the stomach guy (the tests they actually ran) and the receptionist put my doctor on the phone.
He said, “Your guy left me a note about your endoscopy.”
Oh... yeah, he didn’t have much to say to me about it. -me
“Well, there’s a note, and it says...blah blah blah hiatal hernia blah blah”
WHAT?! Hernia?!?! Well they didn’t tell me about that.
“Oh, it’s relatively small, he says. Not worth getting fixed.”
So my “specialist” who I have seen twice now forgot to mention that there actually is a specific CAUSE for my acid problem. ASSHOLE! So now I’m not sure what to do. Pay him or report him? I’m leaning toward reporting him. But that feels like a surefire way to land me some negative karma. I’m torn.
In other news, facebook has started suggesting events that multiple friends are going to. This seems like a good idea except in the cases where I wasn’t invited.... which happened today. This chick i invited to my st paddy’s day thing next week (which i have canceled due to lack of interest...that empty page of attendees was making me fucking depressed) and who was at a party i went to this weekend invited basically everyone on her friends list EXCEPT me.
And I’m sure it’s because I made her friend cry. Which I would go into but I’ve already beaten that horse to death elsewhere. Basically, this girl likes me but I’m not rich enough for her so she keeps me at arm’s length. She also has some serious emotional issues (having confessed to me once that she has cheated on every guy she’s ever been involved with). And when she asks me my opinion on her situation I tell the truth. I even candy coat it to protect her delicate feelings, but it doesn’t matter. She acts like I’ve called her a terrible monster and gets weepy and righteously mad at the same time. It happened at the party. Her friends hate me now (again). Life gets messy sometimes.
And this is why I sometimes love but mostly hate this fucking city. You are forced to constantly and actively fight for yourself. It happens when you get a sandwich at a deli, it happens when you buy an apartment, and apparently it happens when you see a specialist about your recent diagnosis of GERD. The other guy is ALWAYS testing your boundaries, trying to squeeze you for as much as they can, or trying to get away with doing as little as possible, and it can be a good way to build up some more aggressive skills. But it gets OOOLLLDDDDD. Especially when people who are supposed to be taking care of you get pushy.
So the guy was like, “So what, it was like 3 dollars more?” And I’m like, no it was six. But that’s not the point. So he asks, “Well then what do you want to happen?”
Fuck. If only I had prepared a list of possible ways they could make this up to me beforehand. I wasn’t ready for him to put it back on me, but it’s a pretty classic maneuver here in the city, so I should’ve been. Anyway, my response was that if i ever actually DO have to have this test done, they need to do it for free. “Ok, sure.” he said. “Is that all?”
Asshole. Of course it won’t be that simple in the unlikely event that i really do need the test. First off, I will have gone to a different specialist because I’ll be damned if I EVER go back to that prick. Which brings me to the other part of that whole episode that has got me all upset: I called my general practice doctor to see if he had received all the test info from the stomach guy (the tests they actually ran) and the receptionist put my doctor on the phone.
He said, “Your guy left me a note about your endoscopy.”
Oh... yeah, he didn’t have much to say to me about it. -me
“Well, there’s a note, and it says...blah blah blah hiatal hernia blah blah”
WHAT?! Hernia?!?! Well they didn’t tell me about that.
“Oh, it’s relatively small, he says. Not worth getting fixed.”
So my “specialist” who I have seen twice now forgot to mention that there actually is a specific CAUSE for my acid problem. ASSHOLE! So now I’m not sure what to do. Pay him or report him? I’m leaning toward reporting him. But that feels like a surefire way to land me some negative karma. I’m torn.
In other news, facebook has started suggesting events that multiple friends are going to. This seems like a good idea except in the cases where I wasn’t invited.... which happened today. This chick i invited to my st paddy’s day thing next week (which i have canceled due to lack of interest...that empty page of attendees was making me fucking depressed) and who was at a party i went to this weekend invited basically everyone on her friends list EXCEPT me.
And I’m sure it’s because I made her friend cry. Which I would go into but I’ve already beaten that horse to death elsewhere. Basically, this girl likes me but I’m not rich enough for her so she keeps me at arm’s length. She also has some serious emotional issues (having confessed to me once that she has cheated on every guy she’s ever been involved with). And when she asks me my opinion on her situation I tell the truth. I even candy coat it to protect her delicate feelings, but it doesn’t matter. She acts like I’ve called her a terrible monster and gets weepy and righteously mad at the same time. It happened at the party. Her friends hate me now (again). Life gets messy sometimes.
Really sometimes
Mar/13/09 02:31 PM Filed in: Family
So I’ve got a problem I may have alluded to in earlier posts, although probably not, because it involves family trouble AND pending litigation (this last rather obliquely). Here’s the thing: After a looooong time of being disappointed by people and growing suspicious of their motivations and ultimate goals, and then having those suspicions proven justified every time, I have a hard time trusting people to do good. This goes for everyone equally with a few rare exceptions. I could list a lot of examples that support my current mind frame; a friend who walked out of a lease stiffing me with $1200 debt and bad credit, a sublettor who kept my security deposit to pay for her husbands college entrance exams, countless lies told to get out of plans, girls who stopped loving me but claimed otherwise. The list is huge and extends back to my distant foggy childhood.
But part of my whole deal this year and moving forward has been letting go of shit like that and learning to not judge the people who do those things too super harshly. In fact, the majority of grudges I carry are probably not really things that would bother other people. Or maybe they would and I’m just trying to be positive. Regardless, I’m trying very hard to become an optimist about the inner drives and motivations of people around me. Part of it is reworking my expectations of what’s normal behavior and part of it is knowing when to let shit slide.
Now, I have two sisters who have recently become much larger parts of my life than they ever were. And I have a hard time trusting them. In a lot of ways they are completely alien to me. Their inner workings are mysterious and I tell myself I can’t possibly guess what’s going on inside their heads because I was raised in a different environment with different priorities and influences than they were. They lived with our father for WAY too long to have come out unscathed.
On the other hand, they used to adore me when they were very young (before the messed up jealous behavior started, followed by my eventual withdrawal from that life). They continually surprise me with acts of kindness and generosity and intelligence. Most days I’m very proud of them and super glad to have them be part of my life.
But we have some seriously stressful shit happening right now, and it all revolves around money. Money is something that this side of the family has never developed a healthy way to deal with. And we have some very clearly different ideas on what should be done with a chunk of cash we all have equal stake in (maybe). Except that when it comes down to it, no one EVER has “equal stake” in shared cash. There are always going to be little qualitative differences in your claims to it. Emotional ones, and depending on how far back you want to go historical ones.
For example, my father stopped paying child support when i was young. Should I be able to claim back payment of that now from his estate? I don’t want to, but it is apparently the kind of thing my sisters may consider (but for themselves) to be a fair claim. I have to be vague here, because there’s a lawsuit involved... sorry. But the thing is, throwing money into this mix is making it harder for me to keep my suspicious nature in check. And it hurts. Because I know that my suspicions are almost NEVER unfounded. So I’m super torn here and I don’t know what to do. Oh well... there’s always booze and tv.
But part of my whole deal this year and moving forward has been letting go of shit like that and learning to not judge the people who do those things too super harshly. In fact, the majority of grudges I carry are probably not really things that would bother other people. Or maybe they would and I’m just trying to be positive. Regardless, I’m trying very hard to become an optimist about the inner drives and motivations of people around me. Part of it is reworking my expectations of what’s normal behavior and part of it is knowing when to let shit slide.
Now, I have two sisters who have recently become much larger parts of my life than they ever were. And I have a hard time trusting them. In a lot of ways they are completely alien to me. Their inner workings are mysterious and I tell myself I can’t possibly guess what’s going on inside their heads because I was raised in a different environment with different priorities and influences than they were. They lived with our father for WAY too long to have come out unscathed.
On the other hand, they used to adore me when they were very young (before the messed up jealous behavior started, followed by my eventual withdrawal from that life). They continually surprise me with acts of kindness and generosity and intelligence. Most days I’m very proud of them and super glad to have them be part of my life.
But we have some seriously stressful shit happening right now, and it all revolves around money. Money is something that this side of the family has never developed a healthy way to deal with. And we have some very clearly different ideas on what should be done with a chunk of cash we all have equal stake in (maybe). Except that when it comes down to it, no one EVER has “equal stake” in shared cash. There are always going to be little qualitative differences in your claims to it. Emotional ones, and depending on how far back you want to go historical ones.
For example, my father stopped paying child support when i was young. Should I be able to claim back payment of that now from his estate? I don’t want to, but it is apparently the kind of thing my sisters may consider (but for themselves) to be a fair claim. I have to be vague here, because there’s a lawsuit involved... sorry. But the thing is, throwing money into this mix is making it harder for me to keep my suspicious nature in check. And it hurts. Because I know that my suspicions are almost NEVER unfounded. So I’m super torn here and I don’t know what to do. Oh well... there’s always booze and tv.
Sometimes We Borrow from Ourselves
Ok, I just gushed out my day in an email and decided to just rip it off and paste it right here. So suck it, losers! (kidding. obvs):
“So guess what I did today. I "broke up" with an online date girl. I should paste some text from the email so you can rate my effort. Or some from her last email so you can see why it was inevitably going to end badly. I think this way I get to be a very small asshole and she gets to feel righteous for a week and then forget about it all. Wanna know what event precipitated this admittedly already-in-the-works dumping?
Ok, I'll tell you! So we email each other while at work, right? yeah, so she asks me what I'm doing this (past) weekend. And, because I have a pretty full lineup, I tell her exactly what I'm doing. It was basically booked thurs and sat nights. So I suggest dinner either early and limited on sat or sunday (she has some sstuff going on friday and sat nights). She says, yes. I ask which she prefers. She says sunday and I say good, sunday. Then on friday she texts me something like have a good weekend and i text her on saturday that it's gorgeous outside whoopeee. no response, which I'm personally a fan of, except I know it's probably significant. So sunday comes and I have brunch with some friends and then i text her hey, are we having dinner? no response. So I email, hey, in case your phone is dead, are we having dinner? and then i call (i hate calling, but to be the one with the justice on his side i'll do it) and leave a message: hey, i'm thinking you're not into dinner, but i still am, let me know. so she calls back and it's 7 by now, and i don't answer. because it's her turn to leave a damn message right?
Only she doesn't. She doesn't! I mean why the hell call in the first place?!?!?!?!?!?! Veeeery significant. So I reluctantly call back and she answers. She's all on the offensive: "I am sort of used to actually communicating with the people I'm spending time with" or something like that, "So when I didn't hear from you on the phone I assumed it was off....." painful silence "So I ate already"
And I said oh it's fine and then she began to launch into what seemed like a wind-up for a tirade against me (I'm sure about how I'm not sending clear signals or trying hard enough to keep her interested... I've gotten that before and it turns me WWWAAAYYY off), so I cut her off with some stuttered "it's ok's" and "you don't have to explain's" and she shuts up....
and then apologizes and says if i want some cold pizza i can come over. And I double down with, naw, it's cool I have some leftovers i can eat. And then it's awkward for a while and then we stumble through a reschedule. [and now that I'm writing all this i think i'm going to paste it word for word into my blog, along with this comment... and while I'm editorializing for my blog in an email to you, I will also point out that i think my ex knows the address to my blog, which sucks because i don't want her to read about my exploits, such as they are, and get hurt]
And then I realize it's time to end the thing. And then I also realize that I don't have to be the perfect gentleman and always end things on the phone or in person. In fact, an email saves everyone the discomfort and has the added benefit of being more likely to happen sooner, you know? Like having to do it in person makes it SO MUCH EASIER to put off the messiness. So I composed a lovely email and sent it to her, making sure it would get there when she didn't need to focus on work or whatnot because I can't help being condescendingly sensitive.
GAAAASP. done. I hope you enjoyed reading that. but seriously it felt pretty self indulgent.”
“So guess what I did today. I "broke up" with an online date girl. I should paste some text from the email so you can rate my effort. Or some from her last email so you can see why it was inevitably going to end badly. I think this way I get to be a very small asshole and she gets to feel righteous for a week and then forget about it all. Wanna know what event precipitated this admittedly already-in-the-works dumping?
Ok, I'll tell you! So we email each other while at work, right? yeah, so she asks me what I'm doing this (past) weekend. And, because I have a pretty full lineup, I tell her exactly what I'm doing. It was basically booked thurs and sat nights. So I suggest dinner either early and limited on sat or sunday (she has some sstuff going on friday and sat nights). She says, yes. I ask which she prefers. She says sunday and I say good, sunday. Then on friday she texts me something like have a good weekend and i text her on saturday that it's gorgeous outside whoopeee. no response, which I'm personally a fan of, except I know it's probably significant. So sunday comes and I have brunch with some friends and then i text her hey, are we having dinner? no response. So I email, hey, in case your phone is dead, are we having dinner? and then i call (i hate calling, but to be the one with the justice on his side i'll do it) and leave a message: hey, i'm thinking you're not into dinner, but i still am, let me know. so she calls back and it's 7 by now, and i don't answer. because it's her turn to leave a damn message right?
Only she doesn't. She doesn't! I mean why the hell call in the first place?!?!?!?!?!?! Veeeery significant. So I reluctantly call back and she answers. She's all on the offensive: "I am sort of used to actually communicating with the people I'm spending time with" or something like that, "So when I didn't hear from you on the phone I assumed it was off....." painful silence "So I ate already"
And I said oh it's fine and then she began to launch into what seemed like a wind-up for a tirade against me (I'm sure about how I'm not sending clear signals or trying hard enough to keep her interested... I've gotten that before and it turns me WWWAAAYYY off), so I cut her off with some stuttered "it's ok's" and "you don't have to explain's" and she shuts up....
and then apologizes and says if i want some cold pizza i can come over. And I double down with, naw, it's cool I have some leftovers i can eat. And then it's awkward for a while and then we stumble through a reschedule. [and now that I'm writing all this i think i'm going to paste it word for word into my blog, along with this comment... and while I'm editorializing for my blog in an email to you, I will also point out that i think my ex knows the address to my blog, which sucks because i don't want her to read about my exploits, such as they are, and get hurt]
And then I realize it's time to end the thing. And then I also realize that I don't have to be the perfect gentleman and always end things on the phone or in person. In fact, an email saves everyone the discomfort and has the added benefit of being more likely to happen sooner, you know? Like having to do it in person makes it SO MUCH EASIER to put off the messiness. So I composed a lovely email and sent it to her, making sure it would get there when she didn't need to focus on work or whatnot because I can't help being condescendingly sensitive.
GAAAASP. done. I hope you enjoyed reading that. but seriously it felt pretty self indulgent.”
Technowhosie?
Mar/08/09 11:47 PM Filed in: Friends | Home Improvement
I’ve got several things to touch on with this post, but I doubt I remember them for more than the next 4 minutes, so here goes a list:
Maintenance payments:
These are the thing that keeps home ownership from being the unequivocal “good thing” that we all believe it should be. For all my rent paying readers (hahahahahaha: readers! with an “S”! HAHA. ok.) who may not know, it’s a monthly fee that pays for shit like the super (who charges to fix stuff in your apartment, btw) and heat and water and gardening. And it is ALWAYS going up. We just got another increase. I can’t handle it. My monthly maintenance is more than my car payments used to be (I sold the car to be able to get this place). And we’re getting hit with--now follow this one closely--two one-time assessments of 200 bucks. Assessments are how the building gets more money from you without raising the maintenance fee. It just gets collected in one lump sum. Twice. Assholes.
Karaoke:
Went to a friend’s birthday thing this weekend. What do you call it when people meet up at a bar for a person’s birthday? It’s not exactly a party, is it? Anyway, we started at this place called the Dove Parlour, which was overblown and maybe not all that great. But then the party relocated to Planet Rose. And here’s the thing; it’s a karaoke bar. In fact it has no other reason to exist or be frequented. It’s almost like people blow in off the street solely to belt out a song and then they flitter off again. The people in the place are all there waiting for their selections to come up, and along the way they get rowdy for crowd pleasers, singing along to the hits. Anyway, I popped my karaoke cherry. It was magical. It was definitely like the first time you try sushi and realize there was nothing to be afraid of in the first place.
Let me pause here to get a little philosophical. Or at least introspective. I was hanging out with a different style of person from the usual that night. There were absolutely no hipsters per se along for the ride. Everyone was in general characterized by a pointed lack of guile, very little irony, and possibly (i’m inferring here) musical taste that could be classified as unsophisticated. This is part of my project to shift the type of person I spend my time with away from the ultra image conscious hipster stock I’m used to. And it was incredibly awesome. I wouldn’t have sung in a group of my old friends. Never ever in a million years. Too much judgement happening. This group at Planet Rose was incredibly positive and it was a good feeling. I heartily recommend it.
Technorati:
I don’t really know what it is, other than a blogging ubersite that keeps a list of active blogs and makes them searchably accessible to a buuuunch of people. So I got on it and listed HIE with them. I also added he ability to leave comments, and an RSS feed for those of you who know how to use them. It only has my recent posts, though, so it will take some time for it to flesh out. There’s also a button to add it to your faves on technorati. I have no idea what that means.
But please leave a comment if you read this to let me know you’re out there... that means you, my one reader.
Maintenance payments:
These are the thing that keeps home ownership from being the unequivocal “good thing” that we all believe it should be. For all my rent paying readers (hahahahahaha: readers! with an “S”! HAHA. ok.) who may not know, it’s a monthly fee that pays for shit like the super (who charges to fix stuff in your apartment, btw) and heat and water and gardening. And it is ALWAYS going up. We just got another increase. I can’t handle it. My monthly maintenance is more than my car payments used to be (I sold the car to be able to get this place). And we’re getting hit with--now follow this one closely--two one-time assessments of 200 bucks. Assessments are how the building gets more money from you without raising the maintenance fee. It just gets collected in one lump sum. Twice. Assholes.
Karaoke:
Went to a friend’s birthday thing this weekend. What do you call it when people meet up at a bar for a person’s birthday? It’s not exactly a party, is it? Anyway, we started at this place called the Dove Parlour, which was overblown and maybe not all that great. But then the party relocated to Planet Rose. And here’s the thing; it’s a karaoke bar. In fact it has no other reason to exist or be frequented. It’s almost like people blow in off the street solely to belt out a song and then they flitter off again. The people in the place are all there waiting for their selections to come up, and along the way they get rowdy for crowd pleasers, singing along to the hits. Anyway, I popped my karaoke cherry. It was magical. It was definitely like the first time you try sushi and realize there was nothing to be afraid of in the first place.
Let me pause here to get a little philosophical. Or at least introspective. I was hanging out with a different style of person from the usual that night. There were absolutely no hipsters per se along for the ride. Everyone was in general characterized by a pointed lack of guile, very little irony, and possibly (i’m inferring here) musical taste that could be classified as unsophisticated. This is part of my project to shift the type of person I spend my time with away from the ultra image conscious hipster stock I’m used to. And it was incredibly awesome. I wouldn’t have sung in a group of my old friends. Never ever in a million years. Too much judgement happening. This group at Planet Rose was incredibly positive and it was a good feeling. I heartily recommend it.
Technorati:
I don’t really know what it is, other than a blogging ubersite that keeps a list of active blogs and makes them searchably accessible to a buuuunch of people. So I got on it and listed HIE with them. I also added he ability to leave comments, and an RSS feed for those of you who know how to use them. It only has my recent posts, though, so it will take some time for it to flesh out. There’s also a button to add it to your faves on technorati. I have no idea what that means.
But please leave a comment if you read this to let me know you’re out there... that means you, my one reader.
The inskernex
Mar/07/09 12:41 AM Filed in: Work
So it’s 12:42AM, Friday night. I’m at home. Here’s a thing about New York that’s subject to change, but hasn’t in the last couple years: Most people don’t really go out on Friday night. And if they do they royally half-ass it. I am giving in to this situation and Fridays will henceforth become Get Shit Done nights.
To wit: tonight I spent a fucking loooong time dicking around with my resume site. Of course I’m not going to link to it because I hate you all and I would never willingly let you find out who I really am. No but really, come on. And I had an interesting discussion about gentrification with a person I almost went on a date with from that cupid site, but we didn’t and now things have simmered down into a bland series of instant messages about the hood. We both live here at the ass end of Brooklyn, hence our original inclination to meet up.
Anyway (and I realize my blogs are like a million times too long, so I’ll trying to paraphrase here), it went like this:
Girl: I see more and more hipsters in our hood every day
Me: Oh thank god
Girl: No, but they’re going to ruin the neighborhood.
Me: Huh? How?!
Girl: Gentrification. I don’t want an American Apparel here.
Me: Srsly? But--
Girl: I’ve seen too many neighborhoods with charm and character destroyed by gentrifying rich yuppies
Me: Have you ever actually opened your eyes in this neighborhood? It’s all rich white people ALREADY! And they’re all TACKY!
Girl: Something stupid and irritating
Me: Somebody tell me when the yuppies get here
So I obviously edited for time, etc, etc, but the thing is, this girl is always complaining about how lonely and isolating living in this place is. And she’s right (when she says that part). Why anyone wouldn’t want a nice mix of people with a sense of fucking atmosphere to be injected in this pean to “Saturday Night Fever” of a town I’ll never know.
Back to the subject of this entry (right). I have now posted my resume online, and everyone I know who works in the biz I do finds something to dig into and pull apart, sending me into a spiral of self doubt. Everyone else, however, loves it and is positive. My industry is full of bitter jealous assholes. Myself included.
The rest of the time was spent trying to figure out how to get my stuff to show up on google. I think the consensus is you wait a month. fine. i will. Next stop, work on getting this garbage heap up to snuff.
To wit: tonight I spent a fucking loooong time dicking around with my resume site. Of course I’m not going to link to it because I hate you all and I would never willingly let you find out who I really am. No but really, come on. And I had an interesting discussion about gentrification with a person I almost went on a date with from that cupid site, but we didn’t and now things have simmered down into a bland series of instant messages about the hood. We both live here at the ass end of Brooklyn, hence our original inclination to meet up.
Anyway (and I realize my blogs are like a million times too long, so I’ll trying to paraphrase here), it went like this:
Girl: I see more and more hipsters in our hood every day
Me: Oh thank god
Girl: No, but they’re going to ruin the neighborhood.
Me: Huh? How?!
Girl: Gentrification. I don’t want an American Apparel here.
Me: Srsly? But--
Girl: I’ve seen too many neighborhoods with charm and character destroyed by gentrifying rich yuppies
Me: Have you ever actually opened your eyes in this neighborhood? It’s all rich white people ALREADY! And they’re all TACKY!
Girl: Something stupid and irritating
Me: Somebody tell me when the yuppies get here
So I obviously edited for time, etc, etc, but the thing is, this girl is always complaining about how lonely and isolating living in this place is. And she’s right (when she says that part). Why anyone wouldn’t want a nice mix of people with a sense of fucking atmosphere to be injected in this pean to “Saturday Night Fever” of a town I’ll never know.
Back to the subject of this entry (right). I have now posted my resume online, and everyone I know who works in the biz I do finds something to dig into and pull apart, sending me into a spiral of self doubt. Everyone else, however, loves it and is positive. My industry is full of bitter jealous assholes. Myself included.
The rest of the time was spent trying to figure out how to get my stuff to show up on google. I think the consensus is you wait a month. fine. i will. Next stop, work on getting this garbage heap up to snuff.