Monday, February 24, 2003
We have begun the process!
The move is officially under way. I woke up yesterday at 1:30pm and immediately started helping Kelly tear apart our apartment. We got a lot done, but I am afraid to say that there is so much more to do! I don’t think I have any time left for fun this week. We have to have the house ready to go by Wednesday night. It seems as though Kelly and I will have to move into our new place on Thursday evening, rather than Friday morning. Gotta make use of the big strong boys when they are available. Regardless, we will still be sleeping in our Queens apartment for one more night. Rita leaves early Friday morning and I want to make sure that we are with her up until the moment she drives away.
Man, it’s really happening.
The days are flying by like wild fire. My head is swirling with things I need to do and just when I think I have narrowed down my final list, I realize that I have yet to change my address on some of my bills, or that I haven’t called the thrift store yet to remove my couches, or that GAHHHHHHHHHHHHH! See? So much.
In other news…
I was out having my mid-day cigarette when the strangest thing happened.
This guy walks out of an apartment building, about 50 feet from me, and projectile vomits all over the sidewalk. Seriously. It was like, one minute, silence. The next minute, a tremendous splash on the ground. The guy wipes his mouth and goes back into the building. I couldn’t help but burst out laughing. I mean, I DO feel bad that he got sick, but how rare is it to see someone just haul off and erupt from their mouth? I had an enjoyable cigarette to say the least.
Thank God I dropped off my laundry at the Laundromat today. I have been wearing BO covered clothes for at least a week or two. Just wanted to have all new laundry before we moved into the city. But still, thank God, I got some clothes clean, cuz I was starting to get a little embarrassed at having to keep my pits shut whenever I was in a group of people.
My boss is driving me up the fucking wall today.
The end.
SO!
Member how I wrote that I used too much steroid cream on my cock and it dried out and shriveled up? Well, late Thursday night, I needed to jerk off pretty badly, and decided to tempt the fate of my dick and just go for it. I have to be honest, the cock looked so severely damaged that I was sure I was going to have to forgo sex for the rest of my life.
WELL!
As I began jerking, the skin surrounding my dick head and shaft began crunching. Like, well, you know, crunching.
It didn’t hurt at all, so I kept jerking. The lights were off in my room so I couldn’t see what was happening “down there”. It only took about 5 minutes to get myself to orgasm and once finished I flipped on the light to see the damage I caused.
LO AND BEHOLD!
Jerking my dick off made all the crust crumble and flake off. I was lying there naked, looking down at my cum covered dick and saw that there was dead skin everywhere!
I jumped out of bed and stood over the garbage can so that I could get as much of the dead skin off my stomach and into the trash. There was like 8 layers of it. I then wiped myself up and pealed the remaining skin off.
Underneath all of this “crunch” was the most beautiful baby soft dick I have ever seen! And it was mine! ALL MINE! I was elated. Not only did I not destroy my cock, the three days of steroid cream torture I went through ended up turning it into the prettiest and softest cock in the world! I haven’t been able to keep my hands off it since.
The lesson I learned is this:
If you make a mistake and put steroid cream on your cock in order to eliminate a pseudo-skin disease, wait three days and then jerk feverishly. Underneath all that ugly is a cock that is brand-new and baby soft!
SICK!
I got so much packing to do.
Ari just got back from her final lunch with Rita. She just walked into the office with tears brimming in her eyes. Ari doesn’t cry, so the minute I saw it, I grabbed her and took her out for a smoke. Rita has become such a big part of so many people’s lives here that when they say their good-byes, it just tears them up. Ari and Rita have gotten to know each other pretty well over the last year and I knew it was going to be hard for them to give their farewells.
And the beat goes on…
All right…time for lunch. I heated up my soup like an hour and a half ago and maybe now that it has fully congealed, I can go enjoy it.
Latas.
The move is officially under way. I woke up yesterday at 1:30pm and immediately started helping Kelly tear apart our apartment. We got a lot done, but I am afraid to say that there is so much more to do! I don’t think I have any time left for fun this week. We have to have the house ready to go by Wednesday night. It seems as though Kelly and I will have to move into our new place on Thursday evening, rather than Friday morning. Gotta make use of the big strong boys when they are available. Regardless, we will still be sleeping in our Queens apartment for one more night. Rita leaves early Friday morning and I want to make sure that we are with her up until the moment she drives away.
Man, it’s really happening.
The days are flying by like wild fire. My head is swirling with things I need to do and just when I think I have narrowed down my final list, I realize that I have yet to change my address on some of my bills, or that I haven’t called the thrift store yet to remove my couches, or that GAHHHHHHHHHHHHH! See? So much.
In other news…
I was out having my mid-day cigarette when the strangest thing happened.
This guy walks out of an apartment building, about 50 feet from me, and projectile vomits all over the sidewalk. Seriously. It was like, one minute, silence. The next minute, a tremendous splash on the ground. The guy wipes his mouth and goes back into the building. I couldn’t help but burst out laughing. I mean, I DO feel bad that he got sick, but how rare is it to see someone just haul off and erupt from their mouth? I had an enjoyable cigarette to say the least.
Thank God I dropped off my laundry at the Laundromat today. I have been wearing BO covered clothes for at least a week or two. Just wanted to have all new laundry before we moved into the city. But still, thank God, I got some clothes clean, cuz I was starting to get a little embarrassed at having to keep my pits shut whenever I was in a group of people.
My boss is driving me up the fucking wall today.
The end.
SO!
Member how I wrote that I used too much steroid cream on my cock and it dried out and shriveled up? Well, late Thursday night, I needed to jerk off pretty badly, and decided to tempt the fate of my dick and just go for it. I have to be honest, the cock looked so severely damaged that I was sure I was going to have to forgo sex for the rest of my life.
WELL!
As I began jerking, the skin surrounding my dick head and shaft began crunching. Like, well, you know, crunching.
It didn’t hurt at all, so I kept jerking. The lights were off in my room so I couldn’t see what was happening “down there”. It only took about 5 minutes to get myself to orgasm and once finished I flipped on the light to see the damage I caused.
LO AND BEHOLD!
Jerking my dick off made all the crust crumble and flake off. I was lying there naked, looking down at my cum covered dick and saw that there was dead skin everywhere!
I jumped out of bed and stood over the garbage can so that I could get as much of the dead skin off my stomach and into the trash. There was like 8 layers of it. I then wiped myself up and pealed the remaining skin off.
Underneath all of this “crunch” was the most beautiful baby soft dick I have ever seen! And it was mine! ALL MINE! I was elated. Not only did I not destroy my cock, the three days of steroid cream torture I went through ended up turning it into the prettiest and softest cock in the world! I haven’t been able to keep my hands off it since.
The lesson I learned is this:
If you make a mistake and put steroid cream on your cock in order to eliminate a pseudo-skin disease, wait three days and then jerk feverishly. Underneath all that ugly is a cock that is brand-new and baby soft!
SICK!
I got so much packing to do.
Ari just got back from her final lunch with Rita. She just walked into the office with tears brimming in her eyes. Ari doesn’t cry, so the minute I saw it, I grabbed her and took her out for a smoke. Rita has become such a big part of so many people’s lives here that when they say their good-byes, it just tears them up. Ari and Rita have gotten to know each other pretty well over the last year and I knew it was going to be hard for them to give their farewells.
And the beat goes on…
All right…time for lunch. I heated up my soup like an hour and a half ago and maybe now that it has fully congealed, I can go enjoy it.
Latas.
Sunday, February 23, 2003
I am sitting at my computer in my bedroom and typing in the notepad of microsoft. You see, my wonderful computer came with "Windows XP", but there was no "word" program downloaded onto it. I know, sounds crazy. But it's true. Since my internet connection in my room is dial-up, I get knocked off every time someone calls. So I am forced to type in the lame notepad cuz I don't wanna lose the shit I type.
You understand.
And what a lame way to start this entry.
I'm not sure what I want to write. I just knew that I wanted to sit and get some shit out of my head. With so much going on in my life these days, it's hard to pick a topic and focus in on it. I could write about the move to Times Square, I could write about Rita leaving for Syracuse, I could write about Paul's lack of support throughout this whole thing...really I could write about any of these. But I don't want to. I am already feeling pretty stressed and dwelling on any of these issues might send my emotions reeling.
I will try to work up the nerve to wax philosophic about this depressing shit in a minute.
But for now...
For now, I start with the
TOP 5 PET PEEVES I HAVE ABOUT RIDING THE NYC SUBWAY:
1) The subway system has no real schedule to follow. Sure, there IS a schedule, but actually seeing a train pull up at the exact minute it's supposed to is like waiting for Usher to admit he's gay. Every morning I try to leave the house at the exact same time. It takes me about 10 minutes to walk to the subway platform (an estimated 11 blocks). I leave at 8:05am and know that I need to make the 8:15am train in order to be exactly on time for work. I am not one for leaving early as I am a slave to routine. No matter what I do I am guaranteed to miss the train. Then I must wait another 5-10 minutes for the next train to arrive. At this point I am late for work no matter how fast the train speeds along. I fucking hate that there is no true subway schedule.
2) As a gentleman, I am usually left standing on the subway. I always give my seat to an elderly person or a woman that is seemingly pregnant. I say "seemingly" because I have had that moment of offering my seat to a very pregnant woman who has in turn looked at me as though I was criticizing the baby made of donuts sleeping in her belly. Yet I still try to offer my seat to someone that needs it more than me. Fine, so I stand. Even when I feel like shit from drinking the night before or even when I haven't slept well and would just about kill someone for their little space of bench, I offer them the seat and stand clutching the "straphanger" (aka the handgrip that runs along the top of the train). Now, my pet peeve comes in when we are pulling into another train station. No matter who it is: old lady, man with one leg, teenager with a coke problem, they are SURE to stand up and ask ME to get out of the way so that they can get to the door first. This infuriates me! My theory is: "If you are lucky enough to get a seat on the subway, then you accept the fact that you will be one of the last people off the train." Sounds fair, right? NO! I am constantly shoved out of the way by self-absorbed people who think that we must not only give them a seat, but get out of their blessed way when the train is slowing to a stop. Truth is...I am not getting out of your way, cuz I have to get off too. Can you wait five fucking seconds so I can just turn my body and inch towards the door? Oh no, you can't? Then enjoy my book bag in your face while you wait for me to get off the train. I fucking hate people who tell you to get out of their way when you are getting off at the same stop as them.
3) If it is rush hour and there are about 100 people crammed into a subway car, do whatever you can to not rip an egg smelling fart. I can't tell you how many times I have been stuck riding 90 blocks on a subway train smelling someone else's rotting insides.
Yes, I have let a couple go myself, but I have also held that beast in until I grew nautious, doing my best to spare my fellow commuters from this nasty gas. It makes me physically angry to stand, smooshed in like caviar, and smell with each breath, the breakfast, lunch and midday snack that your body is slowly and angrily digesting. I fucking hate people that deliver horrible fart babies on the subway during rush hour.
4) Since I commute mostly during rush hour, every time I get off the train, I am forced to barrel through a crowd of anxious subway users. It's like I'm invisible. If I am unlucky enough to get off the train last, I get knocked around like a pin ball trying to escape before I am stuck on and forced to go to the next stop. You've got to be a fucking asshole in order to commute successfully in NYC. After being shoved around for 2 years like I don't matter, I have now started to pretend I am the biggest football player in the city. I walk with determination and force and give men, women, and children alike, my shoulders to their face. Hi. Nice to meet you. Did you like my shoulder being shoved into your douchebag face? Then WAIT until I can get my poor white ass off the subway. For lack of a better thing to write: "I'm mad as hell and I'm not going to take it anymore". I fucking hate people that don't let you off the subway before they barrel through the entrance door.
5) I think that, subconciously, this last pet peeve bothers me the most.
I have done the same commute so many times that when I arrive at the subway platform, I know exactly where to stand in order for the door to open right in front of me. As I previously mentioned, I arrive at the subway platform just in time for the doors to close right in my face, each day. Therefore, I am stuck waiting awhile for the next train to come. Now, since I have been waiting for what has been up to 20 minutes for a train to come, is it fair that you walk right up to the subway as the doors are opening and shove me aside so you can get in first?
My god, asians are the worst. I don't have a true problem with asians per se, but why is it that when I am waiting patiently for a subway, I am constantly shoved aside by a little asian woman who somehow knows that she is to be the first person onto the train. I just don't get it. Any asshole that would walk up to a subway door and shove aside all those that have been waiting in line, deserve to get slapped swiftly in their ignorant, "I am the only person on the planet of course I go first" face.
Last week, I was waiting for the 1/9 train at Times Square. I was waiting a while. Let's say 10 minutes. 10 LONG Monday morning minutes. When the subway finally arrived, there must have been 30 people waiting to get into one door. This little foreign woman (I will explain how I know she was foreign in a minute) literally shoves through the crowd, waltzes into the train and grabs the first seat she sees. This black man who was waiting in line yelled: "Hey! What are you doing? Chill out!" Eventually we all boarded the train, and this black guy sits in the seat across from me. About halfway through the ride, that little bitch foreign woman gets out of her seat and walks up to the black guy. She starts in with: "How dare you tell me chill out. I am woman and deserve respect that all women deserve." The black man retorts with: "I don't care if you're a woman or not, you don't shove people aside that have been waiting for a train." In her foreign, broken English voice, she starts freaking out. "Fuck you! Woman should always get in train before man. It's how things get done here. Are you new to this country?!?!" The black man sat silent while the woman freaked out on him for a good 3 stops. Eventually this man had enough and the two engaged in an argument so intense that it made me want to slink away into another subway car. "Go back to your country you stupid bitch. Take your crazy poor ass out of here and go back to where you belong." "Go back to what country? You black! This isn't your country. How dare you raise voice! I belong in country and you don't!" Blah blah blah. It carried on this way until I finally got off the train. To be honest, I wanted that black guy to rip that self-centered bitch's face off. I fucking hate people that believe that they are to be the FIRST person on the subway regardless of anyone else's time or position in line.
And I don't hate asians. It's just that they have green blood and are from a planet I like to call "Chinese".
You see.
And that's that. There are so many other reasons as to why I hate entering the NYC subway, but this listing is a good start. We won't even get into the people that WORK for the subway system. That would take me three days to get off my chest.
------------------------------------------SHIFTING GEARS--------------------------------------------------
THIS FOLLOWING ENTRY IS PRETTY MUCH DRAMA. IF YOU READ THIS YOU WILL EITHER BE BORED TO DEATH AT HOW MUCH OF A SILLY LITTLE GIRL I AM OR YOU WILL CRY LIKE A SHIT BABY. CUTTHESHIT BABY THAT IS.
On Thursday night, Kelly and I got together (Rita came too) to measure the dimensions of our new apartment. It was pretty exciting to look at the space again knowing that this is our new home. We realized during the process that our current furniture set would not fit into the new apartment. I was pretty upset considering that it is my furniture and I am still not ready to dump it. Cuz I mean, even the couch has reclining seats in it! And cup holders! How could we get rid of it?? But I finally accepted the fact that not only would they not fit into the apartment, the dimensions of the hallway leading up the stairs would not allow it either. Kelly decided to save the day and purchase a futon. I was very skeptical of having a futon in our new "classy" apartment, but after seeing what she purchased today, I took a huge sigh of relief and realize once again that I can trust Kelly's decorating skills. She picked a beauty. And it gives us more sleeping space for any spontaneious visitors.
We tested the shower, the stove, and picked up the largest dead roach any of us have seen off the floor. Kelly and I are going to be happy in this apartment. - No. For real. Ignore the roach comment. It was a nuclear fluke. There are no such things as roaches that big. - And Rita shit herself when she saw the location. (I loved her excitement at that) I wasn't kidding folks, we live IN Times Square. Not near it. IN it. And I am very proud of it. And no, it's not LOUD. Everyone keeps telling me that it is "too loud" and I always wonder how they know that. It's not like any of them have lived in this area. But after being there on Thursday, all of us were in fact relieved that it is NOT loud at all. In fact, all you can hear is a very faint "hum". The place is perfect for us.
After the visit to our new pad, the three of us went to have a few drinks at Siberia. This bar is where Kelly will be putting up her show in April. On first site of the bar, I grew extremely uptight. It is what I like to call "slummin". Not slammin. Slummin. There is graffiti and garbage all over the place. AND. And, there is a toilet hanging over the bar by way of chain. It's hanging from the ceiling from a very large chain. For real.
After the first vodka tonic, the place started to grow on me. Although everyone in the place was dressed like a skater (me in dress pants and a button down shirt), I felt ironically safe and comfortable. After the 3rd vodka tonic, I started to fall in love with the place. And by the 5th vodka tonic, I realized that there is not a place in the world I would rather be, than in Siberia. Kelly found the PERFECT space for her show. Conversation between the three of us was incredibly strained in the beginning. We were talking about the move, but it was all logistics and nothing personal. I remember just sitting there wanting to crawl out of my skin. As the alcohol started to settle in, the talk shifted from business to reality. Kelly was unbelievably upbeat during the evening and truthfully rescued the evening from spiraling down the tubes. Before the measuring of the apartment, Rita and I had just come from her goodbye party at work. Just so you know how down Rita and I were feeling...during Rita's "final words" at the party , sobs took over my body and I stood there in front of all of my co-workers with my chest heaving and my nose running out of my face. It was hella sad.
We were spent.
So when Kelly confronted the situation during our drink session, it was a chance for Rita and I to open up about how this move has been affecting us. Kelly acknowledged the fact that although Rita leaving NYC upsets her, she understands that for the two of us, this move is virtually impossible to bear. It is the first time that I felt like someone got it. I am constantly having conversations with people who say: "I want Rita to stay. I am going to miss her so much." While I am overwhemlingly happy that Rita has formed relationships with these people in order for them to feel this bad, I walk away each time choking back my sadness and end up feeling incredibly alone. Like no one understands how hard this is for us.
It's not that I want to sit around and cry with everyone about this.
and
It's not that anyone is doing anything wrong.
But OUCH. This hurts bad. SO bad.
Any time I have a good moment in my day, a moment that makes me feel genuinely happy, it's cut short with the reminder that Rita has to leave NYC in less than a week.
Let me explain a bit better.
Rita and I have been best friends, in different ways, since the day I met her back at the beginning of our sophomore year of college. We immediately understood eachother. Friends like this are so rare to find, but so cherished once you realize you have finally found them. Through circumstances out of our control, I moved into the apartment she was living in, during our senior year of college. During this year, Rita and I discovered why we were destined to be best friends. We have a million memories from that year. It was like fate slapping you right in the face. During the peak of its intensity, Rita and I dealt with the feelings of "love" that were developing between us. Now, memble...I'm gay. And Rita was the first person that I fully disclosed this to. It was all very crazy, but very sane at the same time. When the entire situation exploded around us, Rita and I spent a week not speaking to eachother. And it tore our worlds up to the core.
At the time, Rita and I were living with 4 other girls all crammed into the same apartment. (but we all had our own rooms ironically enough) Because of it being our senior year and because she and I were surrounded by 4 of our best friends, there was never really a chance for us to spend the real time together that we wanted to. There was never a chance for us to fully discuss and digest everything about our friendship. At the end of the year, everyone graduated with the exception of me. (I decided half-way through the year to chuck everything that I worked for into the garbage and to follow my dream as an actor. I stayed for one more year and finished the entire major in 3 semesters. All while juggling about 15 shows and becoming the theater club president. Okay, yes I am tooting my own pathetic horn) I stayed at school with two of the girls I lived with, but Rita moved back to DC. There she lived with her parents and got a job teaching at a ballet school. RANDOM. But a time period that changed her life.
During my SUPER-Senior year (that's what we 5-year plan losers called it), Rita and I kept in touch and I basically begged her to move back to where I was going to school. At the time, she was broken up with her boyfriend. The same boyfriend that she is moving back to Syracuse next week to be with. Rita, for many different reasons, did in fact move back to where I was going to school. During the second semester of my senior year, we became incredibly close again, and I even directed her in a scene I was doing for school. It was another wonderful chapter in our relationship.
In May of that year, I once again said goodbye to Rita and I moved to Boston to be with my newly found boyfriend, Paul.
I stopped speaking to everyone then. Including Rita.
That's how I used to do things. If I moved to a new place, you could consider yourself out of my life. I couldn't deal with keeping up with friendships that were long distance. It was too much effort and then it always ended up hurting intensely in the end. While I was in Boston, Rita sent numerous letters to me. After never hearing back, she sent the letter that changed our friendship forever.
I remember coming home from work (TGIFriday's) and finding this random envelope in the mailbox. I saw that it was from Rita and sat down on my bed to read it. The opening of the letter went something like this: "I know you aren't going to write back. I've given up on expecting that. Instead, what I am going to do is just write what is going on in my life and tell you what I am up to." There were little comic strips in the letter and cut-outs of magazine pictures asking "Where has Joe gone?" and "Why won't Joe ever give me a call?" When I got done with the letter, I did what I knew was right. I called Rita.
From that point on, Rita and I have stayed heavily in touch. We used to talk about once every couple of weeks until I moved to NYC. Once there, she and I began to talk about once a week, we visited eachother a couple of times, and then, towards the end of my first year in NYC, I had convinced Rita that she needed to move into my apartment in Queens. Once again, I had asked Rita to come to where I was. I knew we needed eachother.
At this point, Rita was back with her boyfriend and she had made a full life for herself in Syracuse.
Rita moved in on December 28th, 2001. It was the day that changed our relationship, yet again.
Rita got a job at my current place of employment and we began building a little life for ourselves. We commuted together, we worked together, we went out of the house everywhere together, we were co-joined twins that slept in separate beds at night. You understand how that works. Through the year, we have gotten a chance to know eachother in a way that I've never known anyone. Even with my own boyfriend, we spend most of the day doing other things. But with Rita, everything we did was together.
This girl understands me so completely. I can talk about anything and she sees exactly where I am coming from. She has been there for me during each emotional roller coaster ride I took this year. I cried to her. I laughed with her. I fought with her. We got a chance, for the first time since I've known her, to see what our friendship could really be if given the chance. And come to find out, it's everything we hoped it would be.
Rita and I have always been very good at putting on an act when we are with other people. We inherently act as though we are merely just "friends" and go on with our business. This is why we spend most of our time together alone. Or with Kelly. It works best for us when we can truly let go and be ourselves with the other person. Neither one of us get what we want from our boyfriends, and find that we get that other part from eachother. I listen to her and she listens to me. That is something so rare in a person that it should be considered diamond studded gold.
Rita has confronted quite a few of her personal demons while in NYC.
I wanted Rita to move to NYC to live the life that I was living. Get a shit job in the city and pursue your creative talents. Drop everything you've been taught and live the bohemian life the best way you know how. And she did. She did her absolute best at working the shit job and living as though we have the world at our fingertips. But eventually, the honeymoon period wears off and Rita was forced to confront one of her biggest life challenges. "What was her passion in life?" Being someone that has talents across the board, Rita had a million choices as to which creative direction to go in. She can sing. She can act. She can write. She is book smart. She's amazing on a computer. She knows more about music than anyone I have ever met. Rita could go with any of these and be successful given her desire to be so. But it turns out....Rita's passion wasn't being the next Pulitzer Prize winner. Rita was not to be the next Greta Garbo. Rita didn't want the fast paced, overly aggressive life of NYC.
Rita was to a wife and mother. Rita wanted a family.
Being someone that grew up in a military family, Rita has always struggled with the concept of settling down. She is accustomed to moving and starting over. When things get boring or they get too tough, move and start a new life. She does physically what I do emotionally. You run away. So, one night in Mid-November, Rita and I sit around after work and had a couple glasses of wine. (We are notorious for talking serious AND have also been known to spend three nights a week in front of the television while never turning it on. Hours spent talking ourselves hoarse) During our discussion that night, Rita discloses that she has found her passion. She wants to start her family and at 25 years old, doesn't want to wait any longer. She is in love with her boyfriend, unconditionally, and she knows that he is the one that she needs to be with.
After discussing this with her, we came to the conclusion that she needed to live NYC and move back to be with him. It was a beautiful talk and one that neither she nor I will never forget. We kept the secret for a couple of weeks, only telling Kelly at one point. Rita was giving herself time to settle with the decision and didn't want to have to re-tell everyone that she was staying instead of moving. You know how it is.
As last year came to a close, it was set in stone that Rita was leaving.
AND THIS IS HOW I REALLY FEEL. (although incredibly long winded. my bad. snore. read it or don't read it. i don't give a shit)
As the weeks have gotten closer to Rita's departure, all of us have had moments of emotional insanity. Kelly had the first breakdown a week or so ago and it was then that I realized that it was all really happening. Since that Sunday night, I have not felt okay. I find that I am suprisingly strong on the outside. It seems as though I am just going about my business. Yet, deep down, I find myself losing my shit hardcore style. I don't want Rita to leave. I felt so positive and unselfish about it before, but now I am panicking. I've spent the last year of my life married to someone and now they are leaving. I am so accustomed to the way we do things and the thought of always having her around. No matter what...Rita was ALWAYS there. She is the epitomy of "being able to count on someone". And now...she moves 5 hours away.
I'm scared to be alone. I'm scared not to have her here to ask every little thing to. I have become so dependent on her for everything. She IS my self-esteem. She IS the clarity to every crisis I have. She IS my foundation. I'm not saying that what I have with my other close people isn't wonderful, cuz without it, I would truly be lost. The point of this beast of an entry is to clearly show for once and for all why Rita's leaving is making everything around me change so drastically that I feel like I am starting over.
And I am doing it on my own.
We will never live together again. I will never hear her puttering around the house before I get out of bed again. There will be no more random glasses of water forgotten around the house. I won't see those red sneakers every day. No more pizza fridays. No more 6:30-7:30pm Simpson viewings. No more falling asleep on the couch at the same time. No more sitting on the couch together for hours at an end crying and sharing and laughing together. (yes, everything we did involved the couch)
The only thing that gives me comfort throughout this whole thing, is knowing that she feels exactly the same way.
There is no doubt in my mind that she is struggling mind, body, and soul with the decision she has made.
Rita loves me and I know that this distance kills her insides just as much as it kills mine.
This was our last weekend together. Last night we did our Friday ritual of renting movies and buying groceries and vegging out in front of the television. We went to bed around 10pm and I spent a good majority of my remaining evening staring at my bedroom wall. Today we watched like 3 more movies together and had plans to go out drinking. We layed around all weekend and although completely unspoken, so many emotions ran through our hearts. At one point Rita informed me that she didn't want to go out anymore. I panicked. I told her that I still wanted to go out. That I couldn't stay in the house for the whole weekend. She was amazingly cool with it and explained "I am bugging out. I can't go out tonight." I responded with "Well, okay, but I still gotta get out of the house."
About 10 minutes later, Rita apologizes again for not wanting to go out and all I say back is "I totally understand. But I still want to get out of the house." She again handles it wonderfully and turns back to the television. We sit quietly and finish the movie we are watching. I get in the shower and think about what is happening. She doesn't want to go out because this whole thing is hitting her hard today. I feel myself start to lose my cool and I begin to lose it in the shower. I don't know how to help her with this. I hurt too bad to ask her to talk about it. For the first time since I have known her, I can't ask her to tell me how she is feeling because I am afraid that I will lose my defense and break entirely. I stay in the shower until I feel like I have regained control. I decide to ask her to play "Boggle" and then maybe bring up why she is feeling so bad.
I come out of the bathroom and go into my room to dress. About 15 minutes later I emerge and Rita has gone to bed.
Over the next hour I debated what to do. I knew that I didn't want to go out anywhere with her feeling like this. I stood in front of her door and just listened. I walked around and played with the cat. I even sat and had a cigarette or three on the couch and thought "if she comes out, I will catch her and sit her down to talk." But she didn't come out and I didn't go in.
Gosh, this is hard.
Almost impossible.
I feel just as bad as her and instead of confronting it so that we both could release a bit, I run away to my bedroom and get onto the computer to type this entry.
I have been typing for over two hours now and while I thought that it would help, it hasn't. I still want to go into her room, climb in bed with her and just let her cry to me.
But I don't know if I can.
She and I have handled this whole thing very maturely. But we haven't confronted it with eachother because we are both afraid that it will debilitate us when we know we have so much to do. To get this move done successfully.
I guess this is all I have to say.
This is where Rita and I are at now with the big change that is happening.
I had to lay some of it down.
There's just so much...
You understand.
And what a lame way to start this entry.
I'm not sure what I want to write. I just knew that I wanted to sit and get some shit out of my head. With so much going on in my life these days, it's hard to pick a topic and focus in on it. I could write about the move to Times Square, I could write about Rita leaving for Syracuse, I could write about Paul's lack of support throughout this whole thing...really I could write about any of these. But I don't want to. I am already feeling pretty stressed and dwelling on any of these issues might send my emotions reeling.
I will try to work up the nerve to wax philosophic about this depressing shit in a minute.
But for now...
For now, I start with the
TOP 5 PET PEEVES I HAVE ABOUT RIDING THE NYC SUBWAY:
1) The subway system has no real schedule to follow. Sure, there IS a schedule, but actually seeing a train pull up at the exact minute it's supposed to is like waiting for Usher to admit he's gay. Every morning I try to leave the house at the exact same time. It takes me about 10 minutes to walk to the subway platform (an estimated 11 blocks). I leave at 8:05am and know that I need to make the 8:15am train in order to be exactly on time for work. I am not one for leaving early as I am a slave to routine. No matter what I do I am guaranteed to miss the train. Then I must wait another 5-10 minutes for the next train to arrive. At this point I am late for work no matter how fast the train speeds along. I fucking hate that there is no true subway schedule.
2) As a gentleman, I am usually left standing on the subway. I always give my seat to an elderly person or a woman that is seemingly pregnant. I say "seemingly" because I have had that moment of offering my seat to a very pregnant woman who has in turn looked at me as though I was criticizing the baby made of donuts sleeping in her belly. Yet I still try to offer my seat to someone that needs it more than me. Fine, so I stand. Even when I feel like shit from drinking the night before or even when I haven't slept well and would just about kill someone for their little space of bench, I offer them the seat and stand clutching the "straphanger" (aka the handgrip that runs along the top of the train). Now, my pet peeve comes in when we are pulling into another train station. No matter who it is: old lady, man with one leg, teenager with a coke problem, they are SURE to stand up and ask ME to get out of the way so that they can get to the door first. This infuriates me! My theory is: "If you are lucky enough to get a seat on the subway, then you accept the fact that you will be one of the last people off the train." Sounds fair, right? NO! I am constantly shoved out of the way by self-absorbed people who think that we must not only give them a seat, but get out of their blessed way when the train is slowing to a stop. Truth is...I am not getting out of your way, cuz I have to get off too. Can you wait five fucking seconds so I can just turn my body and inch towards the door? Oh no, you can't? Then enjoy my book bag in your face while you wait for me to get off the train. I fucking hate people who tell you to get out of their way when you are getting off at the same stop as them.
3) If it is rush hour and there are about 100 people crammed into a subway car, do whatever you can to not rip an egg smelling fart. I can't tell you how many times I have been stuck riding 90 blocks on a subway train smelling someone else's rotting insides.
Yes, I have let a couple go myself, but I have also held that beast in until I grew nautious, doing my best to spare my fellow commuters from this nasty gas. It makes me physically angry to stand, smooshed in like caviar, and smell with each breath, the breakfast, lunch and midday snack that your body is slowly and angrily digesting. I fucking hate people that deliver horrible fart babies on the subway during rush hour.
4) Since I commute mostly during rush hour, every time I get off the train, I am forced to barrel through a crowd of anxious subway users. It's like I'm invisible. If I am unlucky enough to get off the train last, I get knocked around like a pin ball trying to escape before I am stuck on and forced to go to the next stop. You've got to be a fucking asshole in order to commute successfully in NYC. After being shoved around for 2 years like I don't matter, I have now started to pretend I am the biggest football player in the city. I walk with determination and force and give men, women, and children alike, my shoulders to their face. Hi. Nice to meet you. Did you like my shoulder being shoved into your douchebag face? Then WAIT until I can get my poor white ass off the subway. For lack of a better thing to write: "I'm mad as hell and I'm not going to take it anymore". I fucking hate people that don't let you off the subway before they barrel through the entrance door.
5) I think that, subconciously, this last pet peeve bothers me the most.
I have done the same commute so many times that when I arrive at the subway platform, I know exactly where to stand in order for the door to open right in front of me. As I previously mentioned, I arrive at the subway platform just in time for the doors to close right in my face, each day. Therefore, I am stuck waiting awhile for the next train to come. Now, since I have been waiting for what has been up to 20 minutes for a train to come, is it fair that you walk right up to the subway as the doors are opening and shove me aside so you can get in first?
My god, asians are the worst. I don't have a true problem with asians per se, but why is it that when I am waiting patiently for a subway, I am constantly shoved aside by a little asian woman who somehow knows that she is to be the first person onto the train. I just don't get it. Any asshole that would walk up to a subway door and shove aside all those that have been waiting in line, deserve to get slapped swiftly in their ignorant, "I am the only person on the planet of course I go first" face.
Last week, I was waiting for the 1/9 train at Times Square. I was waiting a while. Let's say 10 minutes. 10 LONG Monday morning minutes. When the subway finally arrived, there must have been 30 people waiting to get into one door. This little foreign woman (I will explain how I know she was foreign in a minute) literally shoves through the crowd, waltzes into the train and grabs the first seat she sees. This black man who was waiting in line yelled: "Hey! What are you doing? Chill out!" Eventually we all boarded the train, and this black guy sits in the seat across from me. About halfway through the ride, that little bitch foreign woman gets out of her seat and walks up to the black guy. She starts in with: "How dare you tell me chill out. I am woman and deserve respect that all women deserve." The black man retorts with: "I don't care if you're a woman or not, you don't shove people aside that have been waiting for a train." In her foreign, broken English voice, she starts freaking out. "Fuck you! Woman should always get in train before man. It's how things get done here. Are you new to this country?!?!" The black man sat silent while the woman freaked out on him for a good 3 stops. Eventually this man had enough and the two engaged in an argument so intense that it made me want to slink away into another subway car. "Go back to your country you stupid bitch. Take your crazy poor ass out of here and go back to where you belong." "Go back to what country? You black! This isn't your country. How dare you raise voice! I belong in country and you don't!" Blah blah blah. It carried on this way until I finally got off the train. To be honest, I wanted that black guy to rip that self-centered bitch's face off. I fucking hate people that believe that they are to be the FIRST person on the subway regardless of anyone else's time or position in line.
And I don't hate asians. It's just that they have green blood and are from a planet I like to call "Chinese".
You see.
And that's that. There are so many other reasons as to why I hate entering the NYC subway, but this listing is a good start. We won't even get into the people that WORK for the subway system. That would take me three days to get off my chest.
------------------------------------------SHIFTING GEARS--------------------------------------------------
THIS FOLLOWING ENTRY IS PRETTY MUCH DRAMA. IF YOU READ THIS YOU WILL EITHER BE BORED TO DEATH AT HOW MUCH OF A SILLY LITTLE GIRL I AM OR YOU WILL CRY LIKE A SHIT BABY. CUTTHESHIT BABY THAT IS.
On Thursday night, Kelly and I got together (Rita came too) to measure the dimensions of our new apartment. It was pretty exciting to look at the space again knowing that this is our new home. We realized during the process that our current furniture set would not fit into the new apartment. I was pretty upset considering that it is my furniture and I am still not ready to dump it. Cuz I mean, even the couch has reclining seats in it! And cup holders! How could we get rid of it?? But I finally accepted the fact that not only would they not fit into the apartment, the dimensions of the hallway leading up the stairs would not allow it either. Kelly decided to save the day and purchase a futon. I was very skeptical of having a futon in our new "classy" apartment, but after seeing what she purchased today, I took a huge sigh of relief and realize once again that I can trust Kelly's decorating skills. She picked a beauty. And it gives us more sleeping space for any spontaneious visitors.
We tested the shower, the stove, and picked up the largest dead roach any of us have seen off the floor. Kelly and I are going to be happy in this apartment. - No. For real. Ignore the roach comment. It was a nuclear fluke. There are no such things as roaches that big. - And Rita shit herself when she saw the location. (I loved her excitement at that) I wasn't kidding folks, we live IN Times Square. Not near it. IN it. And I am very proud of it. And no, it's not LOUD. Everyone keeps telling me that it is "too loud" and I always wonder how they know that. It's not like any of them have lived in this area. But after being there on Thursday, all of us were in fact relieved that it is NOT loud at all. In fact, all you can hear is a very faint "hum". The place is perfect for us.
After the visit to our new pad, the three of us went to have a few drinks at Siberia. This bar is where Kelly will be putting up her show in April. On first site of the bar, I grew extremely uptight. It is what I like to call "slummin". Not slammin. Slummin. There is graffiti and garbage all over the place. AND. And, there is a toilet hanging over the bar by way of chain. It's hanging from the ceiling from a very large chain. For real.
After the first vodka tonic, the place started to grow on me. Although everyone in the place was dressed like a skater (me in dress pants and a button down shirt), I felt ironically safe and comfortable. After the 3rd vodka tonic, I started to fall in love with the place. And by the 5th vodka tonic, I realized that there is not a place in the world I would rather be, than in Siberia. Kelly found the PERFECT space for her show. Conversation between the three of us was incredibly strained in the beginning. We were talking about the move, but it was all logistics and nothing personal. I remember just sitting there wanting to crawl out of my skin. As the alcohol started to settle in, the talk shifted from business to reality. Kelly was unbelievably upbeat during the evening and truthfully rescued the evening from spiraling down the tubes. Before the measuring of the apartment, Rita and I had just come from her goodbye party at work. Just so you know how down Rita and I were feeling...during Rita's "final words" at the party , sobs took over my body and I stood there in front of all of my co-workers with my chest heaving and my nose running out of my face. It was hella sad.
We were spent.
So when Kelly confronted the situation during our drink session, it was a chance for Rita and I to open up about how this move has been affecting us. Kelly acknowledged the fact that although Rita leaving NYC upsets her, she understands that for the two of us, this move is virtually impossible to bear. It is the first time that I felt like someone got it. I am constantly having conversations with people who say: "I want Rita to stay. I am going to miss her so much." While I am overwhemlingly happy that Rita has formed relationships with these people in order for them to feel this bad, I walk away each time choking back my sadness and end up feeling incredibly alone. Like no one understands how hard this is for us.
It's not that I want to sit around and cry with everyone about this.
and
It's not that anyone is doing anything wrong.
But OUCH. This hurts bad. SO bad.
Any time I have a good moment in my day, a moment that makes me feel genuinely happy, it's cut short with the reminder that Rita has to leave NYC in less than a week.
Let me explain a bit better.
Rita and I have been best friends, in different ways, since the day I met her back at the beginning of our sophomore year of college. We immediately understood eachother. Friends like this are so rare to find, but so cherished once you realize you have finally found them. Through circumstances out of our control, I moved into the apartment she was living in, during our senior year of college. During this year, Rita and I discovered why we were destined to be best friends. We have a million memories from that year. It was like fate slapping you right in the face. During the peak of its intensity, Rita and I dealt with the feelings of "love" that were developing between us. Now, memble...I'm gay. And Rita was the first person that I fully disclosed this to. It was all very crazy, but very sane at the same time. When the entire situation exploded around us, Rita and I spent a week not speaking to eachother. And it tore our worlds up to the core.
At the time, Rita and I were living with 4 other girls all crammed into the same apartment. (but we all had our own rooms ironically enough) Because of it being our senior year and because she and I were surrounded by 4 of our best friends, there was never really a chance for us to spend the real time together that we wanted to. There was never a chance for us to fully discuss and digest everything about our friendship. At the end of the year, everyone graduated with the exception of me. (I decided half-way through the year to chuck everything that I worked for into the garbage and to follow my dream as an actor. I stayed for one more year and finished the entire major in 3 semesters. All while juggling about 15 shows and becoming the theater club president. Okay, yes I am tooting my own pathetic horn) I stayed at school with two of the girls I lived with, but Rita moved back to DC. There she lived with her parents and got a job teaching at a ballet school. RANDOM. But a time period that changed her life.
During my SUPER-Senior year (that's what we 5-year plan losers called it), Rita and I kept in touch and I basically begged her to move back to where I was going to school. At the time, she was broken up with her boyfriend. The same boyfriend that she is moving back to Syracuse next week to be with. Rita, for many different reasons, did in fact move back to where I was going to school. During the second semester of my senior year, we became incredibly close again, and I even directed her in a scene I was doing for school. It was another wonderful chapter in our relationship.
In May of that year, I once again said goodbye to Rita and I moved to Boston to be with my newly found boyfriend, Paul.
I stopped speaking to everyone then. Including Rita.
That's how I used to do things. If I moved to a new place, you could consider yourself out of my life. I couldn't deal with keeping up with friendships that were long distance. It was too much effort and then it always ended up hurting intensely in the end. While I was in Boston, Rita sent numerous letters to me. After never hearing back, she sent the letter that changed our friendship forever.
I remember coming home from work (TGIFriday's) and finding this random envelope in the mailbox. I saw that it was from Rita and sat down on my bed to read it. The opening of the letter went something like this: "I know you aren't going to write back. I've given up on expecting that. Instead, what I am going to do is just write what is going on in my life and tell you what I am up to." There were little comic strips in the letter and cut-outs of magazine pictures asking "Where has Joe gone?" and "Why won't Joe ever give me a call?" When I got done with the letter, I did what I knew was right. I called Rita.
From that point on, Rita and I have stayed heavily in touch. We used to talk about once every couple of weeks until I moved to NYC. Once there, she and I began to talk about once a week, we visited eachother a couple of times, and then, towards the end of my first year in NYC, I had convinced Rita that she needed to move into my apartment in Queens. Once again, I had asked Rita to come to where I was. I knew we needed eachother.
At this point, Rita was back with her boyfriend and she had made a full life for herself in Syracuse.
Rita moved in on December 28th, 2001. It was the day that changed our relationship, yet again.
Rita got a job at my current place of employment and we began building a little life for ourselves. We commuted together, we worked together, we went out of the house everywhere together, we were co-joined twins that slept in separate beds at night. You understand how that works. Through the year, we have gotten a chance to know eachother in a way that I've never known anyone. Even with my own boyfriend, we spend most of the day doing other things. But with Rita, everything we did was together.
This girl understands me so completely. I can talk about anything and she sees exactly where I am coming from. She has been there for me during each emotional roller coaster ride I took this year. I cried to her. I laughed with her. I fought with her. We got a chance, for the first time since I've known her, to see what our friendship could really be if given the chance. And come to find out, it's everything we hoped it would be.
Rita and I have always been very good at putting on an act when we are with other people. We inherently act as though we are merely just "friends" and go on with our business. This is why we spend most of our time together alone. Or with Kelly. It works best for us when we can truly let go and be ourselves with the other person. Neither one of us get what we want from our boyfriends, and find that we get that other part from eachother. I listen to her and she listens to me. That is something so rare in a person that it should be considered diamond studded gold.
Rita has confronted quite a few of her personal demons while in NYC.
I wanted Rita to move to NYC to live the life that I was living. Get a shit job in the city and pursue your creative talents. Drop everything you've been taught and live the bohemian life the best way you know how. And she did. She did her absolute best at working the shit job and living as though we have the world at our fingertips. But eventually, the honeymoon period wears off and Rita was forced to confront one of her biggest life challenges. "What was her passion in life?" Being someone that has talents across the board, Rita had a million choices as to which creative direction to go in. She can sing. She can act. She can write. She is book smart. She's amazing on a computer. She knows more about music than anyone I have ever met. Rita could go with any of these and be successful given her desire to be so. But it turns out....Rita's passion wasn't being the next Pulitzer Prize winner. Rita was not to be the next Greta Garbo. Rita didn't want the fast paced, overly aggressive life of NYC.
Rita was to a wife and mother. Rita wanted a family.
Being someone that grew up in a military family, Rita has always struggled with the concept of settling down. She is accustomed to moving and starting over. When things get boring or they get too tough, move and start a new life. She does physically what I do emotionally. You run away. So, one night in Mid-November, Rita and I sit around after work and had a couple glasses of wine. (We are notorious for talking serious AND have also been known to spend three nights a week in front of the television while never turning it on. Hours spent talking ourselves hoarse) During our discussion that night, Rita discloses that she has found her passion. She wants to start her family and at 25 years old, doesn't want to wait any longer. She is in love with her boyfriend, unconditionally, and she knows that he is the one that she needs to be with.
After discussing this with her, we came to the conclusion that she needed to live NYC and move back to be with him. It was a beautiful talk and one that neither she nor I will never forget. We kept the secret for a couple of weeks, only telling Kelly at one point. Rita was giving herself time to settle with the decision and didn't want to have to re-tell everyone that she was staying instead of moving. You know how it is.
As last year came to a close, it was set in stone that Rita was leaving.
AND THIS IS HOW I REALLY FEEL. (although incredibly long winded. my bad. snore. read it or don't read it. i don't give a shit)
As the weeks have gotten closer to Rita's departure, all of us have had moments of emotional insanity. Kelly had the first breakdown a week or so ago and it was then that I realized that it was all really happening. Since that Sunday night, I have not felt okay. I find that I am suprisingly strong on the outside. It seems as though I am just going about my business. Yet, deep down, I find myself losing my shit hardcore style. I don't want Rita to leave. I felt so positive and unselfish about it before, but now I am panicking. I've spent the last year of my life married to someone and now they are leaving. I am so accustomed to the way we do things and the thought of always having her around. No matter what...Rita was ALWAYS there. She is the epitomy of "being able to count on someone". And now...she moves 5 hours away.
I'm scared to be alone. I'm scared not to have her here to ask every little thing to. I have become so dependent on her for everything. She IS my self-esteem. She IS the clarity to every crisis I have. She IS my foundation. I'm not saying that what I have with my other close people isn't wonderful, cuz without it, I would truly be lost. The point of this beast of an entry is to clearly show for once and for all why Rita's leaving is making everything around me change so drastically that I feel like I am starting over.
And I am doing it on my own.
We will never live together again. I will never hear her puttering around the house before I get out of bed again. There will be no more random glasses of water forgotten around the house. I won't see those red sneakers every day. No more pizza fridays. No more 6:30-7:30pm Simpson viewings. No more falling asleep on the couch at the same time. No more sitting on the couch together for hours at an end crying and sharing and laughing together. (yes, everything we did involved the couch)
The only thing that gives me comfort throughout this whole thing, is knowing that she feels exactly the same way.
There is no doubt in my mind that she is struggling mind, body, and soul with the decision she has made.
Rita loves me and I know that this distance kills her insides just as much as it kills mine.
This was our last weekend together. Last night we did our Friday ritual of renting movies and buying groceries and vegging out in front of the television. We went to bed around 10pm and I spent a good majority of my remaining evening staring at my bedroom wall. Today we watched like 3 more movies together and had plans to go out drinking. We layed around all weekend and although completely unspoken, so many emotions ran through our hearts. At one point Rita informed me that she didn't want to go out anymore. I panicked. I told her that I still wanted to go out. That I couldn't stay in the house for the whole weekend. She was amazingly cool with it and explained "I am bugging out. I can't go out tonight." I responded with "Well, okay, but I still gotta get out of the house."
About 10 minutes later, Rita apologizes again for not wanting to go out and all I say back is "I totally understand. But I still want to get out of the house." She again handles it wonderfully and turns back to the television. We sit quietly and finish the movie we are watching. I get in the shower and think about what is happening. She doesn't want to go out because this whole thing is hitting her hard today. I feel myself start to lose my cool and I begin to lose it in the shower. I don't know how to help her with this. I hurt too bad to ask her to talk about it. For the first time since I have known her, I can't ask her to tell me how she is feeling because I am afraid that I will lose my defense and break entirely. I stay in the shower until I feel like I have regained control. I decide to ask her to play "Boggle" and then maybe bring up why she is feeling so bad.
I come out of the bathroom and go into my room to dress. About 15 minutes later I emerge and Rita has gone to bed.
Over the next hour I debated what to do. I knew that I didn't want to go out anywhere with her feeling like this. I stood in front of her door and just listened. I walked around and played with the cat. I even sat and had a cigarette or three on the couch and thought "if she comes out, I will catch her and sit her down to talk." But she didn't come out and I didn't go in.
Gosh, this is hard.
Almost impossible.
I feel just as bad as her and instead of confronting it so that we both could release a bit, I run away to my bedroom and get onto the computer to type this entry.
I have been typing for over two hours now and while I thought that it would help, it hasn't. I still want to go into her room, climb in bed with her and just let her cry to me.
But I don't know if I can.
She and I have handled this whole thing very maturely. But we haven't confronted it with eachother because we are both afraid that it will debilitate us when we know we have so much to do. To get this move done successfully.
I guess this is all I have to say.
This is where Rita and I are at now with the big change that is happening.
I had to lay some of it down.
There's just so much...
Thursday, February 20, 2003
OOOH! ONE MORE THING!
As if life wasn't ironic enough...remember how I called the "Gap" yesterday to see if I could go by to get my paychecks? Well, I was fucking nervous to confront the situation, but I did. I know it all turned out well, but before I called, I nearly had diarhea in my khakis. Then I get home last night and my paychecks are sitting in the mailbox! I mean! Are we fucking serious? If I had just waited one more day, I wouldn't have had to talk to them at all.
Whatever. It felt good to be an adult and confront the situation head-on.
Plus, if I hadn't called, I guarantee that God wouldn't have allowed the paychecks to come so soon. He wanted me to be a man about it. I just know it.
As if life wasn't ironic enough...remember how I called the "Gap" yesterday to see if I could go by to get my paychecks? Well, I was fucking nervous to confront the situation, but I did. I know it all turned out well, but before I called, I nearly had diarhea in my khakis. Then I get home last night and my paychecks are sitting in the mailbox! I mean! Are we fucking serious? If I had just waited one more day, I wouldn't have had to talk to them at all.
Whatever. It felt good to be an adult and confront the situation head-on.
Plus, if I hadn't called, I guarantee that God wouldn't have allowed the paychecks to come so soon. He wanted me to be a man about it. I just know it.
Today is the most beautiful day of the year.
The sun is shining. The birds are chirping. And all of the snow is turning into a flood that is wiping away all the homeless people, subway garbage, and even venereal diseases. It’s pretty great. You almost don’t need a jacket. Isn’t it weird how when it’s summer, a 46 degree day could kill a man, but in the winter, a 46 degree day will warm up your balls? I don’t really understand metaphysics, but I’m willing to write it off as gaylord.
Can you tell that I am in a good mood today? I don’t feel as tired as I have felt all week. I don’t feel as emotionally beaten down. I just feel plain good. Having Paul stay at my place last night was the fucking best. Rita made “Breakfast” for “Dinner” and we “ate” like “hogs”. “” “” “” “” “” “” “” “” “”
I made brownies for my two roomies and Paul managed to shove half the pan in his face before we went to bed. Paul has this theory about brownies. “Brownies are a dessert that you eat periodically through the evening. It’s best to get started early, so that the pan can be finished and cleaned before bed”. Hmm. Sick.
Paul and I literally laughed all night long and when we went to bed we continued to do the same.
We didn’t even come close to hooking up, which is something he and I are working through right now. But there is also another reason why we haven’t been touching. You see, I use this steroid cream on my dick to get rid of this little patch of dry skin that I have. I use a little every couple of days. Well, on Sunday, I put extra steroid cream on the head of my dick and then on Monday morning I did the same thing. By Monday evening, I had completely destroyed my cock. When I woke up on Tuesday, I noticed that I had a SHEET of skin pealing off my dick. When I play with the skin on and around my penis, it crinkles and looks like the top layer of a pan of brownies. It’s fucking gross and Rita says that I need to start wearing underwear again. Someone please help my yiddle cock and balls.
In other news, Rita and I are meeting up with Kelly to measure our apartment tonight. I am excited to see the place again. I haven’t been back there since we first saw it. How exciting! Today’s a good day for looking at apartments and going to happy hour afterwards. Oh. Did I mention that we were going to happy hour afterwards? Cuz we are going to happy hour afterwards. How fun to be able to scope out our new neighborhood! We were originally going to have dinner together, but as Kelly said today: “I’m just lovin liquid dinners!” Yem!
Just got off the phone with Mariah. Dammit she is being super amazing about this whole moving thing. She will be at my apartment on Thursday night to help with any last minute packing. Then she is getting up bright and early with us Friday morning in order to help us move our shit to Times Square. She is being incredibly sensitive to my feelings about this whole thing. I have so few friends in the city and now is the time when I need them to come through for me. And so far, they all are. Paul has stepped up to the plate. Mariah is there for me WHENEVER I need her. Everyone at work is asking lots of questions and being very supportive. And then there is my brother and parents who are nothing, but excited for me and for this whole process. I told Mariah how badly I needed her to be around after Rita moves; that I am not going to have many people to hang out with since Paul and Kelly both work evenings. She gets out of work at 6pm every day and she told me that it takes her 15 minutes to get to Times Square. She has volunteered to sleep over and to take me out whenever I want. I feel very lucky to have these people be so wonderful to me. Hey, if you aren’t going to have more than 5 friends in NYC, it’s best that they be GREAT ones. And they are.
Kelly is very lucky to have the life that she does in the city. She has a ton of friends, a new theater company that she is working on, and a great job. I want to have the same stuff to keep me busy. This move will hopefully provide me with that same type of lifestyle. I am very proud of Kelly for achieving this for herself. If I can just focus on that, then maybe this move won’t be so damn hard. That’s why we are moving anyway. It’s time to get down to business in this city. I seem to be the only one who hasn’t started anything. Now, it’s my turn.
In any case…Rita’s going away party for work is in an hour. Of course I am planning the entire thing. Now I must go buy her a cake and Clementines . Her two favorite pleasures!
ROCK OUT GIRLS OF 21ST STREET!
The sun is shining. The birds are chirping. And all of the snow is turning into a flood that is wiping away all the homeless people, subway garbage, and even venereal diseases. It’s pretty great. You almost don’t need a jacket. Isn’t it weird how when it’s summer, a 46 degree day could kill a man, but in the winter, a 46 degree day will warm up your balls? I don’t really understand metaphysics, but I’m willing to write it off as gaylord.
Can you tell that I am in a good mood today? I don’t feel as tired as I have felt all week. I don’t feel as emotionally beaten down. I just feel plain good. Having Paul stay at my place last night was the fucking best. Rita made “Breakfast” for “Dinner” and we “ate” like “hogs”. “” “” “” “” “” “” “” “” “”
I made brownies for my two roomies and Paul managed to shove half the pan in his face before we went to bed. Paul has this theory about brownies. “Brownies are a dessert that you eat periodically through the evening. It’s best to get started early, so that the pan can be finished and cleaned before bed”. Hmm. Sick.
Paul and I literally laughed all night long and when we went to bed we continued to do the same.
We didn’t even come close to hooking up, which is something he and I are working through right now. But there is also another reason why we haven’t been touching. You see, I use this steroid cream on my dick to get rid of this little patch of dry skin that I have. I use a little every couple of days. Well, on Sunday, I put extra steroid cream on the head of my dick and then on Monday morning I did the same thing. By Monday evening, I had completely destroyed my cock. When I woke up on Tuesday, I noticed that I had a SHEET of skin pealing off my dick. When I play with the skin on and around my penis, it crinkles and looks like the top layer of a pan of brownies. It’s fucking gross and Rita says that I need to start wearing underwear again. Someone please help my yiddle cock and balls.
In other news, Rita and I are meeting up with Kelly to measure our apartment tonight. I am excited to see the place again. I haven’t been back there since we first saw it. How exciting! Today’s a good day for looking at apartments and going to happy hour afterwards. Oh. Did I mention that we were going to happy hour afterwards? Cuz we are going to happy hour afterwards. How fun to be able to scope out our new neighborhood! We were originally going to have dinner together, but as Kelly said today: “I’m just lovin liquid dinners!” Yem!
Just got off the phone with Mariah. Dammit she is being super amazing about this whole moving thing. She will be at my apartment on Thursday night to help with any last minute packing. Then she is getting up bright and early with us Friday morning in order to help us move our shit to Times Square. She is being incredibly sensitive to my feelings about this whole thing. I have so few friends in the city and now is the time when I need them to come through for me. And so far, they all are. Paul has stepped up to the plate. Mariah is there for me WHENEVER I need her. Everyone at work is asking lots of questions and being very supportive. And then there is my brother and parents who are nothing, but excited for me and for this whole process. I told Mariah how badly I needed her to be around after Rita moves; that I am not going to have many people to hang out with since Paul and Kelly both work evenings. She gets out of work at 6pm every day and she told me that it takes her 15 minutes to get to Times Square. She has volunteered to sleep over and to take me out whenever I want. I feel very lucky to have these people be so wonderful to me. Hey, if you aren’t going to have more than 5 friends in NYC, it’s best that they be GREAT ones. And they are.
Kelly is very lucky to have the life that she does in the city. She has a ton of friends, a new theater company that she is working on, and a great job. I want to have the same stuff to keep me busy. This move will hopefully provide me with that same type of lifestyle. I am very proud of Kelly for achieving this for herself. If I can just focus on that, then maybe this move won’t be so damn hard. That’s why we are moving anyway. It’s time to get down to business in this city. I seem to be the only one who hasn’t started anything. Now, it’s my turn.
In any case…Rita’s going away party for work is in an hour. Of course I am planning the entire thing. Now I must go buy her a cake and Clementines . Her two favorite pleasures!
ROCK OUT GIRLS OF 21ST STREET!
Wednesday, February 19, 2003
So, I don’t know what the deal is…
I just called the “Gap” to find out when I could go in to pick up my last paycheck. I spoke to two managers and both were very excited to hear from me. “OMIGOD Joe! Where have you been? We want to see you!”…blah blah blah. I then asked to talk to the head manager (manager on duty) and she and I had the following conversation:
Manager on duty: “Joe! How have you been?”
Me: “Good. I was wondering when would be a good time for me to come in to pick up my remaining paychecks.”
MOD: “Well, first I want to let you know that we miss you greatly around here, but we are also a little upset that you weren’t as communicative over the last two months as you should have been.”
Me: “Yes, I know. I apologize for that. It’s been a crazy couple of months, but I think things have finally settled down and now I am ready to get back into the swing of things.”
MOD: “Great. Well, why don’t you come by the office and we will fill out a new availability form for you and we can get you started right away.”
Me: “Oh. Actually, I wasn’t planning on returning to work there. Thank you for everything you’ve done for me, but I am going to have to say ‘no’”.
MOD: “I am very sorry to hear that. Well, come by to get your paychecks and if you want to work here in the future, just ask to speak to me.”
Me: “Thank you very much. I do appreciate it.”
MOD: “Bye Joe.”
Me: “BYEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!”
OK….WHA?!?!?! Rita called and quit for me over two months ago. And I haven’t contacted them since. And they STILL want me to work there? One of the managers told me that I made a very good impression on them and they missed having me around the store. Um…I worked there for 5 weeks. I can’t believe them. I feel bad now. They are so good to me. I will have to make sure not to burn this bridge. I mean, what if I need a retail job in the future?
HA! NEVER!
Anyway…
Today has been incredibly stressful at work. So much to do and so little time to do it. Of course I refuse to stay any later than 5pm. I mean, seriously. Pay me what I am worth and then I will make sure everything is taken care of. But they have chosen to pay me peanuts. So I never stay late.
You pay for what you get.
Grrrrr……
Tomorrow night, Kelly and I show Rita our new apartment. We are going to take some measurements, so we can figure out what we are keeping and what we are throwing away. I reserved our “Budget” truck today and it seems as though everything is going pretty smoothly. I just gotta make sure we get enough boxes for all of our shit. And at some point I should probably get my act together with all of this. I have yet to take even one picture off of my bedroom walls. I don’t want to start the process, cuz then the move becomes reality. And who wants to deal with this reality?
Paul wasn’t able to stay at my apartment last night. He ended up having to work until real late. He said he will stay tonight, but who knows…
I loved his card and flowers yesterday. It made my whole day. But what I really want is for him to be around a bit more. I need him right now. Not flowers.
About 10 minutes until I go home. Rita and I are making dinner tonight. I think we are having hangar steaks or something. She is doing most of the cooking and I am doing most of the eating.
Okay…so get this shit! Just as I start typing about Paul not being around a lot…the phone rings at work! Paul got off his shift for tonight and is coming over right after work! Now he will be able to eat dinner with Rita and I! UM…WHAT IS GOING ON!?!?! Yesterday I was writing about how Paul fucked up the night before and really upset me. As I was writing the entry, Paul showed up at work with the flowers and the card. Then just now, I am typing about him and me not seeing him and he calls and says that he is going right over to my apartment at 6ish.
Are he and I on some sort of psychic connection these days??
Yay.
I am so happy to be able to spend the night with him.
YAY!
Alright…time to go piss and get on the subway. Although I could wait and do it right on the train. No one would know. This city smells like piss and fart all the time anyway.
Latas!
I just called the “Gap” to find out when I could go in to pick up my last paycheck. I spoke to two managers and both were very excited to hear from me. “OMIGOD Joe! Where have you been? We want to see you!”…blah blah blah. I then asked to talk to the head manager (manager on duty) and she and I had the following conversation:
Manager on duty: “Joe! How have you been?”
Me: “Good. I was wondering when would be a good time for me to come in to pick up my remaining paychecks.”
MOD: “Well, first I want to let you know that we miss you greatly around here, but we are also a little upset that you weren’t as communicative over the last two months as you should have been.”
Me: “Yes, I know. I apologize for that. It’s been a crazy couple of months, but I think things have finally settled down and now I am ready to get back into the swing of things.”
MOD: “Great. Well, why don’t you come by the office and we will fill out a new availability form for you and we can get you started right away.”
Me: “Oh. Actually, I wasn’t planning on returning to work there. Thank you for everything you’ve done for me, but I am going to have to say ‘no’”.
MOD: “I am very sorry to hear that. Well, come by to get your paychecks and if you want to work here in the future, just ask to speak to me.”
Me: “Thank you very much. I do appreciate it.”
MOD: “Bye Joe.”
Me: “BYEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!”
OK….WHA?!?!?! Rita called and quit for me over two months ago. And I haven’t contacted them since. And they STILL want me to work there? One of the managers told me that I made a very good impression on them and they missed having me around the store. Um…I worked there for 5 weeks. I can’t believe them. I feel bad now. They are so good to me. I will have to make sure not to burn this bridge. I mean, what if I need a retail job in the future?
HA! NEVER!
Anyway…
Today has been incredibly stressful at work. So much to do and so little time to do it. Of course I refuse to stay any later than 5pm. I mean, seriously. Pay me what I am worth and then I will make sure everything is taken care of. But they have chosen to pay me peanuts. So I never stay late.
You pay for what you get.
Grrrrr……
Tomorrow night, Kelly and I show Rita our new apartment. We are going to take some measurements, so we can figure out what we are keeping and what we are throwing away. I reserved our “Budget” truck today and it seems as though everything is going pretty smoothly. I just gotta make sure we get enough boxes for all of our shit. And at some point I should probably get my act together with all of this. I have yet to take even one picture off of my bedroom walls. I don’t want to start the process, cuz then the move becomes reality. And who wants to deal with this reality?
Paul wasn’t able to stay at my apartment last night. He ended up having to work until real late. He said he will stay tonight, but who knows…
I loved his card and flowers yesterday. It made my whole day. But what I really want is for him to be around a bit more. I need him right now. Not flowers.
About 10 minutes until I go home. Rita and I are making dinner tonight. I think we are having hangar steaks or something. She is doing most of the cooking and I am doing most of the eating.
Okay…so get this shit! Just as I start typing about Paul not being around a lot…the phone rings at work! Paul got off his shift for tonight and is coming over right after work! Now he will be able to eat dinner with Rita and I! UM…WHAT IS GOING ON!?!?! Yesterday I was writing about how Paul fucked up the night before and really upset me. As I was writing the entry, Paul showed up at work with the flowers and the card. Then just now, I am typing about him and me not seeing him and he calls and says that he is going right over to my apartment at 6ish.
Are he and I on some sort of psychic connection these days??
Yay.
I am so happy to be able to spend the night with him.
YAY!
Alright…time to go piss and get on the subway. Although I could wait and do it right on the train. No one would know. This city smells like piss and fart all the time anyway.
Latas!
Tuesday, February 18, 2003
CAN YA BELIEVE THE AMOUNT OF SNOW IN NYC???
DAYIM!
I woke up, yesterday morning, at 7am to find that the city had been buried under about 18 inches of snow. I looked out the front window of our apartment and saw that not one car was brave enough to tackle the treacherous roads. It was at that point that I called Rita on her cell phone (from the house phone) to tell her that there was no way that we would be going to work. After a few phone calls, Rita and I were in for our first and only snow day of the year. We put on some jackets and gloves and went to the deli to get ourselves some soup and soda. Once we got back to the apartment, we were happy to find Kelly sitting on my bed, excited for the snow day to begin. We all got under blankets and watched Minority Report.
I fell immediately back to sleep, so happy to be in my bed on a Monday morning. Kelly and Rita watched the movie as I lay snoring my face off. I woke up sometime around 1:30pm to find them gone from my room. I climbed out of bed to find Kelly’s sister, Aly, and her 5 teenage girl friends chilling in our living room. (They had come down for a whirlwind 48-hour visit) The rest of the day was spent drinking beers and playing cards. I had a very good time and I know that Kelly was happy that Rita and I spent the day with her sister’s friends.
I haven’t seen Paul since Friday night and I was really missing him yesterday. I was supposed to go over to his place on Sunday night, but I was pretty hungover from the night out with Joanna and frankly, I want to spend as much time in my house as possible these days. Paul was a bit pissed that I didn’t go over to his place, but was still planning on staying at my pad last night. I must have called him 37 times yesterday trying to figure out what time he was coming over. At about 9:30pm I started to give up and assumed that he was ditching me, the way I ditched him on Sunday.
Paul called around 10:30pm to check in.
Here was our conversation:
Me: Hey. Where have you been? I’ve been calling all day.
Paul: Sleeping. It was a long night at work and I just wanted to come home and take a nap.
Me: So, should I assume that you aren’t coming over?
Paul: Yeah. I don’t feel like it. I’m still pretty tired.
Me: Paul, what’s wrong? You knew how badly I wanted to see you today.
Paul: I wanted to see YOU last night and you wanted to stay home.
Me: First of all, I am at your place at least triple the amount of times that you come to mine. Paul, you know I n------!!!!!!
(As I was typing this entry, Paul came into my office with a card and flowers. He just showed up. He never does that. Wow. What he did just now is why I am with him. How amazing.)
Basically, I tried to explain to Paul last night that I really need him right now and that I don’t feel like he wants to be there for me. Eventually I started sobbing to him on the phone about how sad I was and that with each day ending, we are one day closer to moving out of our apartment in Queens. At the peak of my crying, I said: “I just feel like the world is crumbling around me.” Paul responded by saying: “Oh Joe, you are so dramatic. The world is NOT crumbling around you.”
At that point, I hung up on him. I lay there in my bed crying and crying for about 15 more minutes. I took the phone off the hook and forced myself to try to go to sleep. At 1:30am, I was still awake and miserable. I put the phone back on the hook and stared at the ceiling until much after 2am, when I finally drifted off.
When I woke up this morning, not only was I exhausted, I just felt emotionally void. It’s been awhile since I’ve cried so much, on such a regular basis. The pain of Rita’s move keeps getting more intense and I’m almost at the point where I just want the move date to come so that all of this aching will go away. I know she feels the same. This is the hardest thing I have had to deal with in a long time.
While I know that this move to Manhattan is good for me…
While I know that Rita needs to move back to Syracuse in order to give her life new direction…
While I know that everything happens for a reason….
I can’t convince myself that I want all of this to happen. It seems like just yesterday that we all made the decision to move on. Cept it wasn’t yesterday. It was November. And March seemed years away. Now we are nearing the one-week point and I feel as though the weight of sadness just gets increasingly more unbearable.
I am not one to sit around and talk about how I am feeling. At least not when the feelings are so intensely bad. I usually run away. I hide in my room, or I stay over at a friend’s apartment and I ignore that which I need to confront. This time, however, I care too much about Rita leaving to spend even a second away from her. I don’t want to hide. And I surely don’t want her to have to deal with this alone.
Surely it’s not the end of the world.
But days like today give me a whole in my chest the size of Vesuvius. That’s MT. Vesuvius, just in case you were wondering.
It’ll all be ok. It’ll all be fine.
:(
I just read Paul’s card.
Here is what it says:
Joseph, (He always calls me by my full name)
I do not always seem sensitive to situations, but I apologize about that. I know what you are going through and how it feels. It hurts so bad to lose someone who is so close to you! (I have been through it) I want you to know that I am here for you. I will try to make more of an effort to be with you during this trying time. I have been selfish and I am sorry!
I miss you so much right now, but I feel like I do not deserve your presence.
There is a reason for everything, and only time heals.
Take one day at a time and prepare yourself for the future. You have so many people around you that love you. You just have to allow them to do that!!
Keep your chin up and look for the positives and new beginning. I love and care about you SO much Joe Cut the Shit.
Love,
Paul
Of course, because I am a lame ass crybaby, I got choked up the minute I read what he wrote. Paul’s not big on saying things from the heart. But this time he got me good. He totally made up for our fight last night and even more importantly, he has made me feel comforted in the fact that he is in love with me and that I really am not alone. Thank God for him.
Oh! Just so you know, Paul DID in fact give me a Valentine’s Day gift this year. He got me flowers, some candy (fat free of course), a pair of Jeans from Armani Exchange, and also a shirt from Express. Men’s Express. Yes, it really does exist. I loved the clothes, but even more so, I loved the fact that Paul made the effort to make my Valentine’s Day extra special. It was a wonderful day for us. It went smoothly and for the first time in 3 years, I had a beautiful V-Day.
So that’s that.
Kinda got a lot going on. So grateful for this journal. It’s like the only sane thing in my life these days.
It’s the one place where I can truly release.
DAYIM!
I woke up, yesterday morning, at 7am to find that the city had been buried under about 18 inches of snow. I looked out the front window of our apartment and saw that not one car was brave enough to tackle the treacherous roads. It was at that point that I called Rita on her cell phone (from the house phone) to tell her that there was no way that we would be going to work. After a few phone calls, Rita and I were in for our first and only snow day of the year. We put on some jackets and gloves and went to the deli to get ourselves some soup and soda. Once we got back to the apartment, we were happy to find Kelly sitting on my bed, excited for the snow day to begin. We all got under blankets and watched Minority Report.
I fell immediately back to sleep, so happy to be in my bed on a Monday morning. Kelly and Rita watched the movie as I lay snoring my face off. I woke up sometime around 1:30pm to find them gone from my room. I climbed out of bed to find Kelly’s sister, Aly, and her 5 teenage girl friends chilling in our living room. (They had come down for a whirlwind 48-hour visit) The rest of the day was spent drinking beers and playing cards. I had a very good time and I know that Kelly was happy that Rita and I spent the day with her sister’s friends.
I haven’t seen Paul since Friday night and I was really missing him yesterday. I was supposed to go over to his place on Sunday night, but I was pretty hungover from the night out with Joanna and frankly, I want to spend as much time in my house as possible these days. Paul was a bit pissed that I didn’t go over to his place, but was still planning on staying at my pad last night. I must have called him 37 times yesterday trying to figure out what time he was coming over. At about 9:30pm I started to give up and assumed that he was ditching me, the way I ditched him on Sunday.
Paul called around 10:30pm to check in.
Here was our conversation:
Me: Hey. Where have you been? I’ve been calling all day.
Paul: Sleeping. It was a long night at work and I just wanted to come home and take a nap.
Me: So, should I assume that you aren’t coming over?
Paul: Yeah. I don’t feel like it. I’m still pretty tired.
Me: Paul, what’s wrong? You knew how badly I wanted to see you today.
Paul: I wanted to see YOU last night and you wanted to stay home.
Me: First of all, I am at your place at least triple the amount of times that you come to mine. Paul, you know I n------!!!!!!
(As I was typing this entry, Paul came into my office with a card and flowers. He just showed up. He never does that. Wow. What he did just now is why I am with him. How amazing.)
Basically, I tried to explain to Paul last night that I really need him right now and that I don’t feel like he wants to be there for me. Eventually I started sobbing to him on the phone about how sad I was and that with each day ending, we are one day closer to moving out of our apartment in Queens. At the peak of my crying, I said: “I just feel like the world is crumbling around me.” Paul responded by saying: “Oh Joe, you are so dramatic. The world is NOT crumbling around you.”
At that point, I hung up on him. I lay there in my bed crying and crying for about 15 more minutes. I took the phone off the hook and forced myself to try to go to sleep. At 1:30am, I was still awake and miserable. I put the phone back on the hook and stared at the ceiling until much after 2am, when I finally drifted off.
When I woke up this morning, not only was I exhausted, I just felt emotionally void. It’s been awhile since I’ve cried so much, on such a regular basis. The pain of Rita’s move keeps getting more intense and I’m almost at the point where I just want the move date to come so that all of this aching will go away. I know she feels the same. This is the hardest thing I have had to deal with in a long time.
While I know that this move to Manhattan is good for me…
While I know that Rita needs to move back to Syracuse in order to give her life new direction…
While I know that everything happens for a reason….
I can’t convince myself that I want all of this to happen. It seems like just yesterday that we all made the decision to move on. Cept it wasn’t yesterday. It was November. And March seemed years away. Now we are nearing the one-week point and I feel as though the weight of sadness just gets increasingly more unbearable.
I am not one to sit around and talk about how I am feeling. At least not when the feelings are so intensely bad. I usually run away. I hide in my room, or I stay over at a friend’s apartment and I ignore that which I need to confront. This time, however, I care too much about Rita leaving to spend even a second away from her. I don’t want to hide. And I surely don’t want her to have to deal with this alone.
Surely it’s not the end of the world.
But days like today give me a whole in my chest the size of Vesuvius. That’s MT. Vesuvius, just in case you were wondering.
It’ll all be ok. It’ll all be fine.
:(
I just read Paul’s card.
Here is what it says:
Joseph, (He always calls me by my full name)
I do not always seem sensitive to situations, but I apologize about that. I know what you are going through and how it feels. It hurts so bad to lose someone who is so close to you! (I have been through it) I want you to know that I am here for you. I will try to make more of an effort to be with you during this trying time. I have been selfish and I am sorry!
I miss you so much right now, but I feel like I do not deserve your presence.
There is a reason for everything, and only time heals.
Take one day at a time and prepare yourself for the future. You have so many people around you that love you. You just have to allow them to do that!!
Keep your chin up and look for the positives and new beginning. I love and care about you SO much Joe Cut the Shit.
Love,
Paul
Of course, because I am a lame ass crybaby, I got choked up the minute I read what he wrote. Paul’s not big on saying things from the heart. But this time he got me good. He totally made up for our fight last night and even more importantly, he has made me feel comforted in the fact that he is in love with me and that I really am not alone. Thank God for him.
Oh! Just so you know, Paul DID in fact give me a Valentine’s Day gift this year. He got me flowers, some candy (fat free of course), a pair of Jeans from Armani Exchange, and also a shirt from Express. Men’s Express. Yes, it really does exist. I loved the clothes, but even more so, I loved the fact that Paul made the effort to make my Valentine’s Day extra special. It was a wonderful day for us. It went smoothly and for the first time in 3 years, I had a beautiful V-Day.
So that’s that.
Kinda got a lot going on. So grateful for this journal. It’s like the only sane thing in my life these days.
It’s the one place where I can truly release.
Thursday, February 13, 2003
HOLLA!
Sup dawgs!?!?
I came into work furious today and for some reason I am in a slamming good mood right now. I think it might have something to do with the amazing phone conversation I had with Mariah, but I'm not entirely sure. She informed me that not only is she meeting me out for drinks before Paul's birthday adventure, she is also staying over at his apartment with me too! AMAZING. I was really dreading going to this bar with Paul tonight. It is a cruisey, slimy, and horrible bar, but it's "All-you-can-drink for $10". I mean, really. How can I complain. Thing is, Paul doesn't take care of me while we are there. He is busy watching Boys Gone Wild on the mini-televisions while I give angry looks to all of the old men who undress me with their eyes. The place is sick and I was completely UN-excited. But now that Mariah is going to go to the bar with us AND staying over at his place, there is no worry. The three of us get along like baby triplets. Tonight is sure to be a blast.
Rita and I drove to work today cuz she has to leave at 4pm to go to Syracuse. She's got a lot to do in the next couple of days. Does the whirlwind ever stop? Parking the car in the city this morning was complete and utter beastmaster. I had to leave her in the car in order to make it up to the office on time. Rita came in flustered and hating life about 45 minutes later. If I were her, I probably would have driven down Broadway and all the way home. Yet, here we all are. My bosses, Ari, Rita and myself. One big mother fucking family.
can we leave now?
During my lunch break today, I must go get Paul's Valentines and birthday gifts. What I need to do is cut this bush of a hair-style I got goin. Unfortunately, I don't have nearly enough time to do that. I know I am buying him an alarm clock for his bedroom. And also a box of chocolates. (Gotta stick to some sort of tradition here.) I also need to get him a card, an electric toothbrush, and maybe a cup of my cum. You know how it goes. I am sure Paul is spending most of his free time shopping for me, so yeah...
go fuck yourself Joe. You ain't gettin shit.
Paul is currently working at two jobs right now. One of the jobs is for a darling little restaurant in the East Village. He is waiting tables and he absolutely hates being there. Total amount of money he has made at this job in the last week: $350.
The other job Paul has is as a bartender for a very expensive chain restaurant in Hell's Kitchen. He loves the job there and the people have been treating him very well. He has already started to build a semi-regular clientele. Total amount of money Paul made there on Monday night: $400. You read that right. 400 fucking dollars for 7 hours of work. Now. While I was extremely happy for him and filled with relief, I explained that he should ditch this "serving" job and work only as a bartender. "But I don't work at the bar enough and I need to make as much money as I can." Fine. Makes sense. Cept today, he has to go late to the bar job because he is working as a waiter during the day. I told him that he should really think again about only working as the bartender. "Your bar job is not going to give you the shifts you want if they know that they are competing with another employer."
Paul responds with: "YOU are the last person I want to talk to about this right now."
huh?
What did I do?? I just gave my opinion. Obviously Paul was a bit stressed out this morning. I just let it go and got off the phone. Damn birthday boy. You gonna get some fucking birthday spanks later.
right in the face!
So what else?
I have an apartment in Times Square. Oooooh yes!
Hmmm....last night for dinner I had chicken cutlets slathered with macaroni and cheese (sharp cheddar style). Yeah it was fucking good. After I ate it, I laid clutching my stomach for about 20 minutes. For some reason I thought that I had salmonilla, but then realized that it was gluttony and I then I just laid there embarrassed. Stop it Joe. Eat granola and apples like real little boys.
My mom sent me the most adorable Valentine's Day package. In it was tons of candy and a secret surprise. The surprise was a special St. Patick's Day package. What is my mom? The best? I haven't opened the St. Patty's package yet. I am saving it for tomorrow. If Paul doesn't get me anything, at least I can count on my mom. Too bad it's sick and against the law to marry your mother. Then I would have gifts for every special event! Ugh. I sent her a teddy bear and thank you bag for her V-day gift. I never usually send her anything. I just take her gifts and say thank you. But this year, I wanted to do something for her. Unfortunately, my parents 27th anniversary is on the 21st. More money to spend that I don't have. Whatever. I am getting really good at budgeting my money these days. It's like I am waiting for the other shoe to drop. Why do I have my money in order? Is there a secret bill out there calling my name? Please don't find me. I like having enough my money to get by. At least until I move into Manhattan.
YIPES.
Okay...back to work. Leaving soon to buy my boy some special gifts.
:)
Sup dawgs!?!?
I came into work furious today and for some reason I am in a slamming good mood right now. I think it might have something to do with the amazing phone conversation I had with Mariah, but I'm not entirely sure. She informed me that not only is she meeting me out for drinks before Paul's birthday adventure, she is also staying over at his apartment with me too! AMAZING. I was really dreading going to this bar with Paul tonight. It is a cruisey, slimy, and horrible bar, but it's "All-you-can-drink for $10". I mean, really. How can I complain. Thing is, Paul doesn't take care of me while we are there. He is busy watching Boys Gone Wild on the mini-televisions while I give angry looks to all of the old men who undress me with their eyes. The place is sick and I was completely UN-excited. But now that Mariah is going to go to the bar with us AND staying over at his place, there is no worry. The three of us get along like baby triplets. Tonight is sure to be a blast.
Rita and I drove to work today cuz she has to leave at 4pm to go to Syracuse. She's got a lot to do in the next couple of days. Does the whirlwind ever stop? Parking the car in the city this morning was complete and utter beastmaster. I had to leave her in the car in order to make it up to the office on time. Rita came in flustered and hating life about 45 minutes later. If I were her, I probably would have driven down Broadway and all the way home. Yet, here we all are. My bosses, Ari, Rita and myself. One big mother fucking family.
can we leave now?
During my lunch break today, I must go get Paul's Valentines and birthday gifts. What I need to do is cut this bush of a hair-style I got goin. Unfortunately, I don't have nearly enough time to do that. I know I am buying him an alarm clock for his bedroom. And also a box of chocolates. (Gotta stick to some sort of tradition here.) I also need to get him a card, an electric toothbrush, and maybe a cup of my cum. You know how it goes. I am sure Paul is spending most of his free time shopping for me, so yeah...
go fuck yourself Joe. You ain't gettin shit.
Paul is currently working at two jobs right now. One of the jobs is for a darling little restaurant in the East Village. He is waiting tables and he absolutely hates being there. Total amount of money he has made at this job in the last week: $350.
The other job Paul has is as a bartender for a very expensive chain restaurant in Hell's Kitchen. He loves the job there and the people have been treating him very well. He has already started to build a semi-regular clientele. Total amount of money Paul made there on Monday night: $400. You read that right. 400 fucking dollars for 7 hours of work. Now. While I was extremely happy for him and filled with relief, I explained that he should ditch this "serving" job and work only as a bartender. "But I don't work at the bar enough and I need to make as much money as I can." Fine. Makes sense. Cept today, he has to go late to the bar job because he is working as a waiter during the day. I told him that he should really think again about only working as the bartender. "Your bar job is not going to give you the shifts you want if they know that they are competing with another employer."
Paul responds with: "YOU are the last person I want to talk to about this right now."
huh?
What did I do?? I just gave my opinion. Obviously Paul was a bit stressed out this morning. I just let it go and got off the phone. Damn birthday boy. You gonna get some fucking birthday spanks later.
right in the face!
So what else?
I have an apartment in Times Square. Oooooh yes!
Hmmm....last night for dinner I had chicken cutlets slathered with macaroni and cheese (sharp cheddar style). Yeah it was fucking good. After I ate it, I laid clutching my stomach for about 20 minutes. For some reason I thought that I had salmonilla, but then realized that it was gluttony and I then I just laid there embarrassed. Stop it Joe. Eat granola and apples like real little boys.
My mom sent me the most adorable Valentine's Day package. In it was tons of candy and a secret surprise. The surprise was a special St. Patick's Day package. What is my mom? The best? I haven't opened the St. Patty's package yet. I am saving it for tomorrow. If Paul doesn't get me anything, at least I can count on my mom. Too bad it's sick and against the law to marry your mother. Then I would have gifts for every special event! Ugh. I sent her a teddy bear and thank you bag for her V-day gift. I never usually send her anything. I just take her gifts and say thank you. But this year, I wanted to do something for her. Unfortunately, my parents 27th anniversary is on the 21st. More money to spend that I don't have. Whatever. I am getting really good at budgeting my money these days. It's like I am waiting for the other shoe to drop. Why do I have my money in order? Is there a secret bill out there calling my name? Please don't find me. I like having enough my money to get by. At least until I move into Manhattan.
YIPES.
Okay...back to work. Leaving soon to buy my boy some special gifts.
:)
Wednesday, February 12, 2003
WELL!
WE GOT THE APARTMENT!!!!!!
Kelly and I just finished interviewing with the landlord and signing the lease! OMIGODOMIGODOMIGODOMIGODOMIGODYAY!
I can't believe this. Not only are we going to live in Manhattan, we are living in TIMES SQUARE! Gosh. This is about the best thing to happen to me in forever. I was praying so feverishly that this would work out. I prayed that if it was God's will, we would get this place. AND IT WAS GOD'S WILL and WE GOT THE PLACE! Man, I am overwhelmed with joy and relief.
Just so we all know, there is a LAZAR TAG place right across the street from my new apartment AND there is a McDonald's RIGHT AROUND THE CORNER! And they DELIVER! AY YI YI!
I don't know. This is all just so great. Thank you God! Thank you Kelly's parents! Thank you my parents! And just...well...thank you.
Tonight I am going home and nursing this headache and weary body of mine. I need some sleep. Paul informed me earlier today that he wants to go out tomorrow night for his birthday. I explained that I have to work on Friday morning and couldn't go and his reply was: "IT'S MY BIRTHDAY!!!" So yeah. I will be going out with Paul tomorrow night. And want to hear the best part? We aren't even going out until 11:30pm. Ugh. But he IS the birthday boy.
Okay...back to work.
Days like today are so hard to come by.
Thank you again Lord.
WE GOT THE APARTMENT!!!!!!
Kelly and I just finished interviewing with the landlord and signing the lease! OMIGODOMIGODOMIGODOMIGODOMIGODYAY!
I can't believe this. Not only are we going to live in Manhattan, we are living in TIMES SQUARE! Gosh. This is about the best thing to happen to me in forever. I was praying so feverishly that this would work out. I prayed that if it was God's will, we would get this place. AND IT WAS GOD'S WILL and WE GOT THE PLACE! Man, I am overwhelmed with joy and relief.
Just so we all know, there is a LAZAR TAG place right across the street from my new apartment AND there is a McDonald's RIGHT AROUND THE CORNER! And they DELIVER! AY YI YI!
I don't know. This is all just so great. Thank you God! Thank you Kelly's parents! Thank you my parents! And just...well...thank you.
Tonight I am going home and nursing this headache and weary body of mine. I need some sleep. Paul informed me earlier today that he wants to go out tomorrow night for his birthday. I explained that I have to work on Friday morning and couldn't go and his reply was: "IT'S MY BIRTHDAY!!!" So yeah. I will be going out with Paul tomorrow night. And want to hear the best part? We aren't even going out until 11:30pm. Ugh. But he IS the birthday boy.
Okay...back to work.
Days like today are so hard to come by.
Thank you again Lord.
Do I dare show my face in here?
I mean, I have been gone for so long, there is no way that you don't hate me.
Ah well.
At least I can't see or hear your anger and resentment. I will just pretend as though you don't really feel that way. (snickers)
SO HI!
Gosh. Where do I begin? So much shit is going down right now and in order to explain it all, I am going to have to do a brief synapsis of each thing. Ok? Ok.
Let 'er rip!
1) First, foremost, and most importantly, Rita is leaving NYC, two weeks from Saturday. She has been feverishly looking for a new job/apartment in Syracuse and today she found out that she has accomplished half of her goal. She and her boyfriend, Andy, will be living in what we hope will be a beautiful little house with a white picket fence and maybe a swingset in the backyard. Well, maybe not a swingset just yet...but we can still hope. She has two job interviews lined up for this Friday and if all goes well, she will be employed AND have a place to rest her pretty little red head. So, while she is hastily making plans to move, Kelly and I are doing the same. We have found a charming place right in the heart of Times Square. Can ya believe it?!?! The place is extremely small, but the bedrooms are both a good size and the bathroom is bigger than the one we currently have. The refridgerator? Yeah, it's in the living room.
This is the first apartment Kelly and I looked at and we knew immediately that we wanted to jump on it. I mean...it's in the heart of Times Square! What am I? Big and important now??? I don't want to jinx it. Kelly and I are meeting with the landlord today at 2:30pm to sign the lease. God willing, it will all go well. I must admit, the apartment is a bit out of our price range, but I think we have figured out a way to make it work. Please keep us in your prayers. Not only would I be proud to live in this place...our apartment search will be completed. Then we can just stress about moving and that's it!
2) I have been having quite a few emotional breakdowns these days. Kelly had a big attack on Sunday and Rita and I both sat there knowing exactly how she felt. I just think that we aren't ready yet to confront this "moving" thing head on. Paul has been ironically supportive throughout this entire period. I rarely cry with him, but over the last two weeks, I find that the minute he asks me how the "move" is going, I break down into hysterics. Last night he came over to my place to sleep and within 20 minutes I was sobbing about how I can't handle the fact that Rita is leaving. He just sits there saying: "I know" and "We'll get through it". I sit there with tears flowing out of my face. Eventually I just fell asleep with Paul holding me. Tears staining my pillow.
(or was that a jizz stain I saw this morning?) I know that Rita and Kelly feel these emotions too. Yet still, I am most concerned about me right now. I have never hurt this bad over someone leaving. Am I going to be alright?
3) I met someone who reads my site! My good friend, Randy, came to NYC last Friday and he met up with Rita, Paul, and I at Jakes for some cheap drinks. I was hella nervous and vomited five times on the subway. Ok, it was invisible vomit, but it still smelled like shit! I didn't know what I was going to think of him and was unsure as to the idea of connecting (in person) with a reader. In any case, the meeting went better than I could have ever imagined. Randy is quite adorable and has the personality of a genius. He made me laugh and more importantly, made me so comfortable with him. As we know, I have about zero gay male friends, and this kid is someone I hope will become my first! He is moving to NYC soon and will be applying to graduate school. I was impressed and relieved to know that my instincts were not wrong about this fella. Randy is amazing and he won the "Rita stamp of approval". Paul, on the otherhand, was a fucking weirdo all night and barely said two words. He sat there like a jealous bitch and couldn't break out of the funk to become a part of the conversation at any point. In the cab, he and I had a little spat about it and I can tell you that he definitely didn't get his dick sucked that night!
or the night after.
4) Last night I spent two hours on the phone with Mariah's roommate, Jo. I called to talk to Mariah and two hours later, Jo informs me that she wasn't at home. I have always really liked Jo, but never have the chance to see her. This weekend all of my friends are either busy working or away in Syracuse, so I made plans to hang out with her. We are to have drinks in the city sometime around 9pm. How great?!!?! She is one of the easiest people to talk to and I believe that she truly understands me when I open my mouth. I talked to her alot about Rita moving and she was nothing short of incredible about the whole thing. She let me get it off my chest and she gave me some wonderful words of encouragement. I think I am truly going to enjoy having her around once Rita takes off. I have very few friends in the city that I like to see on a regular basis and Jo is going to be one of them. I just know it!
5) I decided to keep my site the way it is. There will be no password blocking and I am not changing the link. I am doing my best at retaining my restored faith in people, but it is quite a challenge. As long as y'all behave yourselves. You know who you are!
winkles!
6) Paul's birthday is Friday. Yes, it's also on Valentine's Day. I get screwed each year! (not like I don't get screwed even when it's not his birthday. To start out the day, I ordered this
Aphrodesiac Garden for him. He LOVES plants and LOVES taking care of them. (maybe if I were a garden, he would tend to me a bit better...) This surprise should be delivered to him early in the day. I think he will really like it. After work, I am going to his apartment to take him out to a sushi lunch. After that we will probably have a nice nap and cuddle on the couch. I still have to make dinner reservations for us, but with it being Valentine's Day, I have no idea where we are going to go. Every place will be so crowded and I don't want to make the same mistake I did last year.
Click here to read February 15th's entry from last year. Being gay and going out to dinner on Valentine's Day is always a challenge. I just have to make sure that this year we do it right. Fuck you AGAIN Bill's Gay Nineties! Fucking lame ass old people homophobic bad karma livin douchebags.
So we will see! I still gotta go buy him some special little gifts. Please God let him do something nice for me.
That's probably it for right now. I'm sure there's more, but right now I gotta get some shit done.
BTW, I upgraded to Blogger Pro and then immediately asked for a refund. Be careful folks. You will not get what you wish for.
Alrighty...wish me luck at my lease signing!!! If this works out today, I will be very pleased. I can't believe that I could really be living in the heart of Times Square! This location will be so convenient for when I get into my numerous Broadway shows. I mean, I can just walk out of the stage door and into my home in a matter of minutes. (Big sigh) Can I be in a Broadway show now?
and boom.
I mean, I have been gone for so long, there is no way that you don't hate me.
Ah well.
At least I can't see or hear your anger and resentment. I will just pretend as though you don't really feel that way. (snickers)
SO HI!
Gosh. Where do I begin? So much shit is going down right now and in order to explain it all, I am going to have to do a brief synapsis of each thing. Ok? Ok.
Let 'er rip!
1) First, foremost, and most importantly, Rita is leaving NYC, two weeks from Saturday. She has been feverishly looking for a new job/apartment in Syracuse and today she found out that she has accomplished half of her goal. She and her boyfriend, Andy, will be living in what we hope will be a beautiful little house with a white picket fence and maybe a swingset in the backyard. Well, maybe not a swingset just yet...but we can still hope. She has two job interviews lined up for this Friday and if all goes well, she will be employed AND have a place to rest her pretty little red head. So, while she is hastily making plans to move, Kelly and I are doing the same. We have found a charming place right in the heart of Times Square. Can ya believe it?!?! The place is extremely small, but the bedrooms are both a good size and the bathroom is bigger than the one we currently have. The refridgerator? Yeah, it's in the living room.
This is the first apartment Kelly and I looked at and we knew immediately that we wanted to jump on it. I mean...it's in the heart of Times Square! What am I? Big and important now??? I don't want to jinx it. Kelly and I are meeting with the landlord today at 2:30pm to sign the lease. God willing, it will all go well. I must admit, the apartment is a bit out of our price range, but I think we have figured out a way to make it work. Please keep us in your prayers. Not only would I be proud to live in this place...our apartment search will be completed. Then we can just stress about moving and that's it!
2) I have been having quite a few emotional breakdowns these days. Kelly had a big attack on Sunday and Rita and I both sat there knowing exactly how she felt. I just think that we aren't ready yet to confront this "moving" thing head on. Paul has been ironically supportive throughout this entire period. I rarely cry with him, but over the last two weeks, I find that the minute he asks me how the "move" is going, I break down into hysterics. Last night he came over to my place to sleep and within 20 minutes I was sobbing about how I can't handle the fact that Rita is leaving. He just sits there saying: "I know" and "We'll get through it". I sit there with tears flowing out of my face. Eventually I just fell asleep with Paul holding me. Tears staining my pillow.
(or was that a jizz stain I saw this morning?) I know that Rita and Kelly feel these emotions too. Yet still, I am most concerned about me right now. I have never hurt this bad over someone leaving. Am I going to be alright?
3) I met someone who reads my site! My good friend, Randy, came to NYC last Friday and he met up with Rita, Paul, and I at Jakes for some cheap drinks. I was hella nervous and vomited five times on the subway. Ok, it was invisible vomit, but it still smelled like shit! I didn't know what I was going to think of him and was unsure as to the idea of connecting (in person) with a reader. In any case, the meeting went better than I could have ever imagined. Randy is quite adorable and has the personality of a genius. He made me laugh and more importantly, made me so comfortable with him. As we know, I have about zero gay male friends, and this kid is someone I hope will become my first! He is moving to NYC soon and will be applying to graduate school. I was impressed and relieved to know that my instincts were not wrong about this fella. Randy is amazing and he won the "Rita stamp of approval". Paul, on the otherhand, was a fucking weirdo all night and barely said two words. He sat there like a jealous bitch and couldn't break out of the funk to become a part of the conversation at any point. In the cab, he and I had a little spat about it and I can tell you that he definitely didn't get his dick sucked that night!
or the night after.
4) Last night I spent two hours on the phone with Mariah's roommate, Jo. I called to talk to Mariah and two hours later, Jo informs me that she wasn't at home. I have always really liked Jo, but never have the chance to see her. This weekend all of my friends are either busy working or away in Syracuse, so I made plans to hang out with her. We are to have drinks in the city sometime around 9pm. How great?!!?! She is one of the easiest people to talk to and I believe that she truly understands me when I open my mouth. I talked to her alot about Rita moving and she was nothing short of incredible about the whole thing. She let me get it off my chest and she gave me some wonderful words of encouragement. I think I am truly going to enjoy having her around once Rita takes off. I have very few friends in the city that I like to see on a regular basis and Jo is going to be one of them. I just know it!
5) I decided to keep my site the way it is. There will be no password blocking and I am not changing the link. I am doing my best at retaining my restored faith in people, but it is quite a challenge. As long as y'all behave yourselves. You know who you are!
winkles!
6) Paul's birthday is Friday. Yes, it's also on Valentine's Day. I get screwed each year! (not like I don't get screwed even when it's not his birthday. To start out the day, I ordered this
Aphrodesiac Garden for him. He LOVES plants and LOVES taking care of them. (maybe if I were a garden, he would tend to me a bit better...) This surprise should be delivered to him early in the day. I think he will really like it. After work, I am going to his apartment to take him out to a sushi lunch. After that we will probably have a nice nap and cuddle on the couch. I still have to make dinner reservations for us, but with it being Valentine's Day, I have no idea where we are going to go. Every place will be so crowded and I don't want to make the same mistake I did last year.
Click here to read February 15th's entry from last year. Being gay and going out to dinner on Valentine's Day is always a challenge. I just have to make sure that this year we do it right. Fuck you AGAIN Bill's Gay Nineties! Fucking lame ass old people homophobic bad karma livin douchebags.
So we will see! I still gotta go buy him some special little gifts. Please God let him do something nice for me.
That's probably it for right now. I'm sure there's more, but right now I gotta get some shit done.
BTW, I upgraded to Blogger Pro and then immediately asked for a refund. Be careful folks. You will not get what you wish for.
Alrighty...wish me luck at my lease signing!!! If this works out today, I will be very pleased. I can't believe that I could really be living in the heart of Times Square! This location will be so convenient for when I get into my numerous Broadway shows. I mean, I can just walk out of the stage door and into my home in a matter of minutes. (Big sigh) Can I be in a Broadway show now?
and boom.
Wednesday, February 05, 2003
Hello.
Where have I been?
I know. I am sorry for what I have done. I have left you without any warning.
BUT
I have decided to re-work this site. All I ask is that you give me a couple more days to do it.
I hate having to ask you to wait and keep checking back, but I have an idea and I think it will work well for the both of us.
You understand. Don't you?
I appreciate any and all traffic to this site. I want you to keep coming. But with my life being in a place of chaos, I can't afford this journal to do the same. I am fixing things.
Please come back to me.
Where have I been?
I know. I am sorry for what I have done. I have left you without any warning.
BUT
I have decided to re-work this site. All I ask is that you give me a couple more days to do it.
I hate having to ask you to wait and keep checking back, but I have an idea and I think it will work well for the both of us.
You understand. Don't you?
I appreciate any and all traffic to this site. I want you to keep coming. But with my life being in a place of chaos, I can't afford this journal to do the same. I am fixing things.
Please come back to me.
Saturday, February 01, 2003
