October 9rd, 2001. Tuesday
I've been trying to fight a cold for the last few days now, and I'm not doing a very good job. Instead of sleeping late and going to bed early and just resting, I've maintained my normal lifestyle. The pain had already begun on Friday. I was dead tired, and had planned to sleep until about 10, which was still getting up pretty early. Then I got a call around 7AM from the school I'd subbed at for the previous two days. They needed me again. I thought about it for a minute, and really couldn't come up with any good reason that I shouldn't go it. I clearly need the money. Or do I? Well, not really. At that moment, sleep sounded a lot better. And though I had no motivation to go, I figured I should just get over that feeling and just start doing things that I don't want to do. And the day wasn't that bad. My first period was a prep period, which I wish I'd've known, because I didn't really have to be there till almost ten. Anyway, after the school day ended, I went into Manhattan. I wanted to sit and drink coffee and read my book, but my two target coffee shops were all filled up. So I sat in Tompkins Square Park with an ice coffee. It was a gorgeous afternoon. Absolutely perfect. Clear sky, about 70 degrees. Kids playing in the background. One thing I've been noticing lately is that there are a lot of hot moms. I see them at school, and I see them in the parks. They've got their 5 year-olds, and they look really good. And I find myself wondering if the dad's in the picture. Briefly. Then I get back to my other fantasies. Anyway, I sat in the park for about two hours and barely read a page. I was more interested staring at the sky and listening to the people around me. I particularly enjoyed craning my head back and looking up through the branches of the trees directly over head. But I had this weird fear that if I did that for too long, someone would come and karate chop me in the throat. I've always had that irrational worry. I'm very sensitive about my throat area, and generally don't like it being touched.
So after a few hours, I got the call from James, and a half hour later he showed up and after I got a slice of pizza we walked down the block to the bar 7A. James has been a lot more frank and/or graphic in his conversational topics lately than he has in the past. Which always makes conversation more entertaining. Sordid details are always fun. And as long as no names are used, there's no reason to feel like you're breaching any sort of trust. Right? right. Right? moving on, after two beers, we left to meet Jen K. and Kate and a bunch of other people from the Parks Department. Those two were the only people I was actually interested in seeing though. We had some time to kill, so we went over to the Holiday Cocktail lounge, which was a block from where we were meeting the other people later. One whiskey later and we were off to Blue and Gold. I hear it's a popular NYU hangout. Anyway, we showed up a few seconds before Jen and Kate. Jen I like very much. She's a very together person, far as I can tell. I always feel this weirdness between me and Kate. There was some sort of misunderstanding months ago, and it's just never been cleared up. But i guess we're still able to hang out. James' girlfriend Rosario met us there, and by then I was having a gay old time. I think. Come to think of it, nothing in the entire evening was really that much fun. But it was good to be out. And I think Jen bought me a few drinks. The drinks were pretty small, so I was able to have five or six. Then after Kate tried unsuccessfully to go home with this guy - after his girlfriend showed up- Jen, Kate, a guy named Joe, and I walked east because she had a hankering for a falafel. Then for some unknown reason, I just had to have a burger and onion rings, which was the worst mistake of the evening. Then I walked Jen back to her place off Union Square. I'm wondering if I imagined what I was picking up from her. There was a fair amount of nuzzling, as I recall. Which didn't bother me in the least. Perhaps she was just being friendly. Friendly and drunk. Anyway, I walked her back, got in a cab, closed my eyes, and the next thing I knew I was home. I thought I had a conversation with Dylan when I got home, but the next morning he said I was just muttering gibberish. So i guess I was a little more in the bag than I thought.
So i spent a good part of saturday trying to feel better so I could drink again in the evening. Dylan, Josh, and I went down to the hardware store to buy paint in order to commence the long-delayed painting of the living room. We agreed on a yellowish color called "jasmine scent." It was fairly embarrassing to walk into the Brooklyn hardware store and say "Um, yes, hello. I'd like to gallons of 'jasmine scent' please." While we were there, I looked over my shoulder and saw the guy on the phone was none other than acto John Turturro. He looked like he was working there. So i thought it'd be funny if I asked him to get me two gallons of jasmine scent. but we just left him alone. I think he lives over on President Street, a few blocks from here. He needed 2x4's. Anyway, we started painting, then played video games on and off for the rest of the evening, before heading out to go to a bar. Matt and I went alone, and ended up at O'Connor's, on 5th ave and Bergen st. I'd only been there once before, but I really liked it. And the drinks are really cheap. Dylan joined us later, and before long he and matt were in another of their little arguments. The night before, all the roommates and Matt were out at Long Tan, the restaurant/bar down on 5th and Union, and they got into a heated theological debate, something about whether or not you could quantify everything in the universe. All I remember from the argument is that someone decreed that "God is the final X factor." This was the main reason we didn't go to Long Tan on saturday. On our way to O'Connor's, Matt was even talking about the fact that he doesn't understand why he let's himself get pulled into these arguments. He knows better. But he can't help himself. Anyway, so before long, the discussion, which had started innocently enough, as they always do, escalated yet again. This time, the debate was over who would get more girls. The scenario is if Dylan and Matt could transmogrify into black people. Matt steadfastly believed that he'd get more girls as a light-skinned, Lenny Kravitz type black person. I pointed out that I think Lenny is half black. But that was pointless. Dylan asserted that he'd be far more successful as a darker, Taye Diggs type. And that's the argument. If you're having trouble figuring out why it went on for almost an hour, you're not alone.
On Sunday, I was awoken several times when the phone rang. That last of these calls was from Rodzilla. I'd called her the day before about seeing a movie, but she was at work. So she called to see if I wanted to go. She was also debating whether or not to go see her friend who had a three hour layover at Newark Airport. Shortly after she decided to go to the airport, the bombs started dropping in Afghanistan, and she decided a visit to the airport wasn't such a great idea. She didn't want to go anywhere. So I figured I had nothing better to do with my day, so I got on the train and headed up to Queens. I'd been curious as to how long the trip would take, and what the best route would be. There's lots of ways to get across three boroughs. Anyway, it took about an hour. We went to a diner, where I had a satisfactory eggplant parm, then went to the movie theatre. The movie we saw was not the movie I'd intended on seeing. But she really wanted to laugh at something, so we saw Zoolander. I was really against this, because it looked just idiotic. But it ended up being pretty entertaining, and a good choice for our viewing pleasure. After that, Rodzilla felt like she needed a drink, so we walked to a bar down the street from her apartment. There I saw the first Irish bartender i've seen in a long time. So I played lots of songs on the jukebox from the UK. not for him, really. It was just a coincidence that it had the Stones, Blur, and Coldplay. I was feeling pretty crappy with the sore throat and everything, and had really meant to take it easy on Sunday, but there I was, downing a few whiskeys while dissecting the finer points of our relationship. The we walked back to her little apartment. She made some tea, called her parents, and I drank tea and read my book for a while. Then back home the long way.
I woke up feeling even worse on Monday. I didn't do much beside sit around and watch tv. Caryn came over, and we went to brunch, then sat around and played guitar for a while. But I had to go to work in the evening, so I was hoping they'd just stick me on the crappy UPN shows they've put me on the last two weeks. I made some off-handed remark to one of the editors last week about how much I didn't like UPN. I was just making conversation, and just trying to be nonchalant and complaing about stuff because I thought that's what you'd be expected to do when watching the Hughleys. But in truth I didn't mind the shows that much. Well, i guess they thought they were doing me a favor or something, so they gave me Monday Night Football. I was just hoping to finish my work and be out of there a little after 10. I was there until 1 AM. Plus, i was doing double duty, watching the show as well as logging what ads were playing. And I was feeling pretty feverish the whole time. Though I did get many compliments today about the quality of my questions. So that was nice.
And work tonight was fairly harmless. After work, I met Caryn on Houston and Ludlow streets, and walked down the block to the Luna Lounge, where my brother Garrick was playing. His band, the Jellybricks, is touring as the backup band for this guy Pete Palladino, formerly of the Badlees. The show was free, so it was easier to get Caryn to accompany me. The show itself was ok. the music wasn't great, but whatever. I think it was only the second time I've seen Garrick play. We talked for a while after the show, and then we went out to the van and he showed me his new Titanium Powerbook. There was something that felt dirty about sitting in the back of a dark van. And when the door opened when the guitarist came in, I felt somehow ashamed. He said "i knew you be here, doing this!" Garrick spends a lot of time on the computer. And now I am home. I have a second interview tomorrow at James' company. Whooptee freakin doo.
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