November 1st,
2001. Thursday
Well, it's November. Here we are. Glad you could make it. Let's take a quick look back at the final day of October.I was late for work. Toward the end of the day, I got a call from Jen K. She was making Swedish meatballs she'd got from Ikea and wanted to know if I wanted to hang out in the evening. I like meatballs, so I says sure. Actually, the meatballs were just a bonus. I'd have gone over anyway. So when I got over there, her sort of boyfriend was there, and the lights were low. And suddenly I felt a little awkward. But Jen assured me that the candles were for Halloween effect. Anyway, she pulled some meatballs out of the oven, then promptly dropped them on the floor. Then dropped them again. And again. She assured me the floor was clean, while standing on the floor in her bare feet. But I figured, fuck it, so I'll eat thrice-dropped meatballs. And they were pretty good. I had to cook some more later, just to make sure the first batch tasted the way it was supposed to. Anyway, she dressed up for the Halloween occasion, as a sort of vampire, I guess. She had fangs. They looked pretty good. They were glue-on fangs, like press-on nails for your teeth. I tried to convince her to wear the chest-revealing shirt she had on first, but she didn't want to go for that look. I tried to explain to her that all vampiresses are slutty. But wouldn't hear it. Anyway, as cool as the fangs looked, I couldn't stop laughing, because they gave her a horrible lisp. If there actually are vampires, I wonder if this is a common problem when you first get the newly pronounced canine teeth. Is there a "lisping" period? Wouldn't that be weird.
Anyway, we filled a thermos full of vodka and a little juice, and left for a party. The first stop for us, however, was a bar. We didn't know who was going to be at this party, and I didn't even know who was throwing it or how Jen even knew him. But my horoscope said to go to a Halloween party, so I figured I wouldn't ignore the alignment of the stars. Anyway, we wandered around for a while, and eventually settled on the Edge, on East 3rd street. So we sat there and had a few whiskeys and looked at people in their costumes. There was a pretty convincing Austin Powers. I thought it'd be really funny if Mike Myers just decided to dress up as Austin Powers on Halloween and hit the town.
So after two stiff drinks, we walked over to Bleeker and Prince, across from CBGB's, and met Kate, my former boss at Parks, and her boy toy. Jen told me all the signs I wrote are being rewritten. I don't like her very much. So after polite greetings we went upstairs to the party. When we got there, the place was empty, save for the host. But the place was amazing. A huge loft space, with high ceilings and lots of room. It was like one of the places you see on tv and say "No one in New York actually has an apartment like that!" But it was cool. Eventually a few more people showed up. I think they all knew each other from Bard. I think I might have been the oldest one there, though it sure didn't seem like it. The World Series game was on, and I tried to not let that distract me too much, but it was difficult. Luckily, the guy who lived there had a lot of cool records. So Jen and I just worked on emptying the thermos, and before you knew it, I was loud and boisterous and fairly drunk. When I get drunk I tend to start yelling, in hopes of achieving some sort of comic effect. Sometimes it works. But it's risky, and only the day after can I really tell if I was making a complete jerk of myself. One girl whom I assaulted with my comic blitzkrieg did try to tell me I was the funniest guy she ever met, which made her immediately plummet in my esteem. I mean, sure, I can cut it up, but if I'm the funniest guy you've ever met, you're haning out with some real dullards. Of course, this other girl, who I was a lot more interested in talking to, didn't seem all that amused at all. It was also worse because she'd started talking to me, and then I just choked. But boy, could I make her friend laugh. hooray.Anyway, Jen and I left the party around 2 I guess. By then she'd taken off the fangs and fake eyelashes, but still pretty much looked like the vampire slut/whore. I mean, with the fishnet stockings around her thighs, well below the bottom of her short leather skirt, there wasn't really a lot you could do with the outfit not to look like a vampire slut/whore. On the way there we were crossing the street and talking about how terrible it'd have been if she'd been hit by a car and died in that getup. I mean, it'd be terrible regardless, but extra terrible while looking like she did. Can you just see her on the coroner's table? How awful. Anyway, most of the 14 block walk up to Union Square if pretty hazy for me. I do remember her pointing out the giant pumpkin atop Webster Hall, as well as her standing and striking a pose, not know she was standing in dog piss. For some stupid reason, I really wanted to eat, so we wandered around and eventually landed at the Union Square Coffee Shop. I'd suggested it because it was two steps from her apartment, and because I really wanted a pressed Cuban Sandwich. I couldn't even rememeber what was it it, just that it was really good and came with really tasty fries. Anyway, it was a huge mistake, and I pretty much had to throw up after one bite. I still can't believe I almost ate the whole thing. Every bite was pain, but oh so tasty. I really hate that about me. Good taste overrides just about every other sensation or discomfort.
I just about fell asleep at the table. So we got out of there and I hopped in a cab and fell asleep almost immediately after saying "8th ave and 6th Street. Brooklyn." Next think i know, we're on Prospect Park West. I wonder he took the long way because I was asleep and he figured he could just drive around for a while and wake me up at some point. Anyway, I came home and passed right out. After fulfilling the oral hygiene requirements of the evening.
So apparently I've been getting calls from schools every morning this week. That's so fucking typical, it makes me crazy. If they'd been calling two weeks ago, I'd have been thrilled. But now that I have things like insurance and whatnot, I really have not interest in going back to that. I just wish I'd done it a bit more, if only to be able to tell better stories about teaching. But it's just such a hard job. So i certainly didn't answer the phone when it rang this morning. I knew I was going to be late for work. I woke up around 8 with a four alarm headache, then went back to sleep and had this wonderfull little weird dream that I was in 2nd grace again. The weird thing was that I was still my 25 year-old self, but my second grade teacher, Mrs. Lambert, looked at least 20 years younger than she was when I had her. Nice lady. She'd read us a birthday poem on our birthday. I remember my birthday that year, I guess it was 1982. I was too emabarrassed to tell her it was my birthday. I never had a birthday party my entire school career. I just didn't like being the center of attention. It felt kind of stupid to be celebrating something like that, something I had nothing to do with. Anyway, I told her at the end of the day "oh, I forgot, today's my birthday." I mean, I kind of wanted a little attention. I just didn't want anybody making a big deal out of it. So she read me my poem. I wish I could remember what it was, but I'm sure I'll never find out. I doubt she's even still alive. She was pretty ancient in 1982. At least in her mid 60s. Still, it's possible.
Anyway, there was some big black dude with a big afro in the dream as well. There was a contest to see which class could line up quietly first. I was somehow lost and separated from my class, but managed to get to the line, along with the afro guy, just in time for our class to win. We celebrated. Then I woke up. And when I did, I woke up the happiest I've woken up in recent memory. I actually said "i'm glad I went back to sleep. It's fine that I'm going to be late for work, because I had that dream." I am a fucking idiot. A tired idiot. And a tardy idiot. But maybe an amusing idiot. Maybe.I got new glasses. They're too light. It's disconcerting. That's my vision update.
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