five spot

Okay, so my last post was hasty. It turned out to be free to get the perscription and a $5 co-pay on the antibiotics. The only down side was waiting for my perscription to be filled I went to Quizno's on 34th btw Madison and 5th. I paid with a credit card, then had to get a refund becuase it was the most ridiculous screwed up clown-car of a Quizno's I've ever seen. There was only one competent person there and everyone kept asking her for help in various parts of the store. It was insane. I felt really bad for her; if I had been her I would have been so pissed.

Thanks be to God. The only retribution I received for great weekend sex was a little uncomfort, five dollars, and five days where I can't drink. Thanks also I don't work in Quizno's.

pay the fine

I have a UTI. That's a urinary tract infection, gentlemen. I'm seeing the doctor on my lunch break (apprx. 3 hours too far away from right now). I will have to co-pay $30 for them to tell me that I have a UTI and give me a prescription that I will have to pay at least a minimum of $25 dollars to get the antibiotics. So, right now, the price of enjoying lovely holiday sex with T:

$40 round-trip china town bus
$50 two months worth of birth control, that's one month before it starts working, and the actual month of use (I'm on this year round, but I'll only charge the two months directly corresponding to Thanksgiving weekend sex)
$55 minimum for UTI aftermath
(being generous, I will not charge for billable hours of 8 traveling on the China town bus or per diem)

So, at a minimum we are looking at just under $150 dollars for a handful of orgasams. Granted, I like orgasams, but I bought a handful from Toys in Babeland for $20. That's $24 if you count the roundtrip subway ride. I guess the $126 difference covers cuddling and good blog fodder.

little fish still bite

E asked me to stop by his restaurant to lone me a book. He encouraged me to stay and talk to him. I lasted an hour. He found time in there to tell me he's 'sorta dating' someone. Luckily, I found out after that someone thinks this girl is a tool. That was infinitely comforting. I hope they are tools together.

I don't care that he's dating someone (who's a tool.) Because if he were dating an Angelina Jolie upgrade I would be very upset. I do care that he got to fucking spring it on me, and that he got to see me react. What an undeserving shit. What I care about is that he got to see me vulnerable yet again. He has no right. It's sad I ever let him. Oh well.

The devil on my shoulder wants to write him an email telling him what an egomanical asshat he is. He knew better. The way that it came up was very thinly veiled. The thing about having an ex with the emotional maturity of a toddler is that you always have to be the bigger person, which becomes tiresome, but the alternative is no alternative at all.

I miss being loved so much (and did especially in the 9 months I was dating E, I think then I missed it most of all.)

techie

I have had serious tech support today. T (who is a computer smarty-pants) was able to fix my work email mess. MW (T's great friend) is sending me $100 software from his company for free that should (if I can understand it) seriously help me at my job.

I was talking to MW about getting T a refurbished iBook for Christmas, since T always has talked about wanting a Mac. T is however so on the cutting edge of things, that it seems I would be unable to afford something he would find interesting. Then I would have to sell it on ebay--and learn a whole new set of technical skills.

I have to think of a new gift. He's very hard to buy for, and I would like to get him something that he would like and use and think is cool. I thought the iBook would be perfect. Now it looks like I'll have to go with Plan B--getting pregnant... JUST KIDDING. I swear I'm just kidding.

I almost put a picture of an ultrasound on here, but they were all too creepy. I crack myself up.

back

I saw Pride and Prejudice tonight. I love that book, and I don’t usually like Kira Knightly, but everything turned out alright in the end. I visited Jane Austen’s house the first time I went to England. What an amazing writer she was—just thrilling. I love to imagine her in that drawing room with its creaky door thinking how much her own sister deserved a perfect man.

It also set me on wild fantastical musings about T being my perfect man. I changed my friendster profile to ‘it’s complicated.’ Seeing him and his family for Thanksgiving was wonderful. I tried my best not to need answers—or not to ask for them at any rate. I committed fully to ‘enjoying the moment’ and had some great sex along those lines. The thing is there is nothing like great sex to make me want to talk.

I never fall right to sleep after great sex. In my experience, I have found that most men do. That’s when I should have blogged ;-) At this point all your getting on watered down impressions of the weekend being good. Next time I have a wild and ‘it’s complicated’ encounter with T, I will do my best to have a laptop handy.

blue eyeshadow

Blue eyeshadow just makes my eyes look green. My eyes are blue-green. Strange.

I'm about to take my frozen cheesecake and fight for a seat on the Chinatown bus. Have a Happy Thanksgiving, blogworld! My gift to you is a picture of a tukey and an asshole.

Sweet anonymity

I've been reading T's travel blog again. I got upset. It's just so very intimate! I mean, this is intimate, but he'll never see it. I could never just shout out all my inner most feelings to the world. Especially in situations as delicate as this. I read the part that discussed my visit.

"This was very difficult because of the complete uncertainty of what our relationship is." Sure it's a valid statement. It's just that my dad checks that website, and he's checking it to see pictures of Big Ben, not to hear about how T and his daughter are continuing to fuck though they could hardly be called dating. Whee!

T has always been this way. He just doesn't really understand the purpose of privacy (unless it has to do with computer hacking). Last Christmas, he went ahead and sent out a form letter Christmas card to our whole joint Christmas card list that mentioned our 'decision to break-up.' He just didn't seem to see that everyone who needed to know knew and anyone on that list that didn't know, was certainly not close enough to tell!

It came across, like a glaring, 'hey, I'm single' Christmas card.

Maybe I just want to get back together with him to prevent him from doing something that stupid ever again. Noble, huh?

Johnny

I saw Walk the Line last night. It was a sweet love story which made my problems seem like nothing. I loved that June Carter was such a hard-ass. Remember when Johnny Cash did that NIN cover? He broke my fucking heart, it was so good.

After work I'm planning on hitting the gym and then it's off to pick up my frozen Thanksgiving Cheesecake from Veniero's. Then go home and pack for the Chinatown Bus ride I'm booking to after work tomorrow. Welcome to the Holiday Season!

Dear Internet

I love you internet.

Things I found today. This post is awesome. This site, that I thought was a joke is real. Holy Christmas...

Reminder

Once, when I was complaining about E, I mentioned how lucky you are that I wasn't blogging when I was in the thick of my T break up. Putting my big toe back into the river (and it's decade history) of T and yb, I realize that E is like a scratch on my bumper. It's amazing I settled for that measly amount of interest (on my part as much as his).

Today on my way to the weekend job, I got a breakfast sandwich from the Deli and started walking up (along 2nd Ave.) when I realized I should go back and get some soup. My head was a jumble from my conversation with T's mother and suddenly a cab's horn pulled me out of it as I did an about-face in the intersection. "What," I yelled at him, "I'm not aloud to change my mind?"

Exactly.

Hubris

I spoke to T's mother. I am meeting She and T at T's sister's house in DC for Thanksgiving. I called because she hadn't told me her itinerary. Well, She and T arrive from TN on Tuesday morning and leave Friday at noon. I will be arriving Wednesday night. I will hardly get to see T at all.

On top of this, she asked how the London weekend was. When she had asked T about it he hadn't said anything, and his 'silence speaks volumes.' I love him, damnit. What will or won't happen with us?

Will my one become the one who got away? I really fucking hope not. Cross your fingers for me.

to be fair

In regards to last night's posting. E was drunk and I was not. Perhaps if I had been drinking I would have acted in the same way he did. But I didn't, so I get to feel like I'm the bigger person and while I have the bigger person phase, it feels like a getting-over-him phase as well. In the harsh light of morning (and a cold one at that) I thought I should put that out there. Because in 2 weeks, E and I will both be at the Christmas party, and if I get drunk, I might be the one hugging for too long.

I stand by my bigger fish statement.

Just like that

Tonight, I saw E in a play. I knew all the actors in this play, and though E had called and asked me to come personally, I was going to have to see it. It was fine. It was actually not so much a play as a long, drawn out Shakespeare study. I love Shakespeare, so I was hard on the 'adaptation' or 'compilation of scenes,' the actors were good though.

Afterwards I was expected to go to a bar with them and be charming. Luckily, a friend of E's, BV, who E and I both meet electioneering, also came along. He was fantastic, and a great distraction when E was being an idiot. E got drunk and at one point mentioned wanting to kiss me which I brushed off. He also gave me a hug that lasted far to long when I was leaving.

I hardly felt a thing.

Bigger fish, I guess.

work it out

I had a great class at the gym tonight. It was taught by a fabulous gay man who knew that each lunge had an equal lunge and I can trust in him that my ass will become evenly toned. It was fantastic--near orgasmic really. Yes, I know that's weird, but you know that feeling when you're just exhausted and your mind is ready to give up and your body just pushes through? That's usually the feeling I have right before giving in to the big O. This step aerobics class took me to that cusp, and it was awesome!

On top of pushing myself a little harder at the gym, I'm also watching what I eat because I'm seeing the man that I'm really not going to try to make want me in a week, and I want to be about 3 pounds lighter by then.

Yep, I'm still crazy!
just look at them smiling...

from the gallery

MC (JHm's boyfriend) and DW have both weighed in on my situation.

MC (a gay man's perspective) encourages me to take it day by day. 'Remember a year ago,' he reminds me, 'you thought it was done. If he's not running back into your arms today who knows what twists and turns lie ahead.' I have taken that very much to heart. There is no rush. I want T to want me because he wants me. I do not care to 'make him want me' in the absurd way I chased E around New York City. I care for him to love me for who I am, as I love him.

DW's perspective (virgin girl) was that since we made love, he definitely still loves me.

Right.

Pandora's box

I've opened myself up to it. I love him so much; it seems I never stopped. It seems everything in the interim has been a dream. It hurts. I looked at his stupid travel blog which is surprisingly unguarded. He talks about all his new friends. The young international girls in his language immersion program and his feelings for them.

And I love him.

Have I landed myself in a new old unrequited love affair?

Me and T

I was in London. I meet T. It was sort of like an annual check-up. We broke up a year ago last May, and since then have had been experiencing the tide pull of what we had and what we lacked and where we're going and what it all means. He looks fantastic, and remains the best lover I've ever had.

He went to Germany to 'pull himself out of a rut.' I think he did a great job, if he can stick with it. T's grandmother died when I was a senior in college and he went into a deep depression that I think may have begun to recede in this German trip. Yes, I do think that 4 months of acting like a high-schooler have cured him of 3 and a half years of behaving like a dead man.

I encouraged him to take this trip. He had asked for me back Christmas of 2004, and I had said no since I felt it was a knee-jerk reaction to the relationship he left me for not working out. I told him to figure out what he wanted, and only then would he know if he wanted me.

He might not want me.

That's what we discussed anyway. He says he still loves me, and I love him desperately, painfully, and possibly hopelessly. He also feels that he must move on, that he 'waited' for me for so long and built up so much resentment and he finally sees that we are destined to go separate directions. I have mixed reactions to this...

I waited just as much as he did. I don't think the sacrifices we made to stay together were one-sided. I didn't sleep around, I didn't make certain decisions for his sake in terms of career and travel, I sequestered myself too. It was though a very difficult time. We were both unhappy and unable to make the other happy. When we broke up, (which at the time I did not understand at all) we both were forced to examine our plans and our desires. I was forced for the first time in my life to stand up for my choices as my own.

And yet, with all the talk we've all had about relationships and the sacrifices and the settling and the acceptance, he's the only man I've ever felt it those things were worth. What will or won't happen from here I can't guess, but I wonder how free my heart will ever be... Or how free I can let it be.

quick

I saw Jarhead. I think you should too.

active

Today I electioneered for some city council dude on the Upper East Side. He is endorsed by every democrat, the New York Times and NARAL Pro-Choice NY, where I often volunteer. I closed the polls, and at 9pm when the polls closed, I was supposed to write down the numbers. I like to think of myself as politically active, but I had never closed a poll before and didn't know what to expect.

They opened up the machines and this guy read out the numbers and these two little old ladies with white and grey hair respectively wrote the numbers down on large charts. I was overcome with emotion. I felt so grateful to see this moment, and these little ladies, and think that after all (no matter how often I bitch about our current administration) I live in America. It was very powerful.

Keep on rocking in the free world, little old ladies! Oh, and bring back our troops!

arguably

I think this is the best Indigo Girls lyric: "Learn to pretend there's more than love that matters"

hmm

First I decided my laundry could wait. Then I put of the gym. Now I'm just sitting here.

I think it's because I'm going to London on Thursday. I go from my office to JFK to Gatwick to T. T and I are meeting in London for a long weekend--I don't even know what it means.

I thought I would marry T. I was convinced he would propose when we got back from Europe before I moved to NYC, but he didn't, and for some reason my being in NYC crushed us. He had always known it was my plan, and had always supported me in that choice, but when I got here things changed. He got angry at me for having a life he didn't understand. Not a short-term life like college, but a whole life that he was an outsider in.

I begged him to come and live with me; he refused again and again. Then in the most obvious and unexpected way, he broke up with me. It has in many ways made me who I am. His removal of support made me learn to walk on my own. I am better for it, and I suspect I am also quite different for it.

So, can the new yb and T (who of course has changed as well) ever have what they had? That's a stupid question. Can they have something they never had before? The answer to that, I hope, is across the pond. The answers that swirl in my heart are unfounded. Perhaps when I finally touch him one will take root, connect and give birth.

I'm afraid. Birth is painful and answers are terrifying.

This is the reason I'm not at the gym.

Oh wow

I had such a great evening. And a lot of it had to do with this place. Go. Go now. It's the most amazing, cool place. Run by women for women, it was such a friendly experience. I will go into great detail later, I promise.

Aslo saw a good show at NYTW, again. They are such a great theater.

48 hours

I've been on a 48 hour mean girl marathon. Not really, I've just been in the NY marathon. No, that's not true either. What I've really done is: meet up with my friend JF. Have diner with her and my soon to be a MD friend, and I went on a date. Today I have watch the marathon from my beautiful view at the weekend job.

My new boss at the weekend job brought her dog to the office; he is adorable. I love that she's such a rule breaker. It makes it okay for me to invite all my friends to meet me here to see the view, which is pretty cool. For the first year I was here I felt like that was not okay.

The date went well and included going to the Met, which scores major points. I have only been to the Met like 3 times since I've lived here, and there is no excuse for that. It's an amazing, gorgeous museum.

I would blog but...

I just got Mean Girls on DVD. I know you'll understand.


love you Tina xoxo

Gluttony

Tonight I went to see the musical version of The Color Purple. I invited E. Why? Because of the title of this post! I live for it. If I can’t participate in scripted drama, then I may as well improv.

I invited him because I wanted to see him, and I wanted to have something to talk to him about. I am in such a strange place with him. I’m getting over him. I can feel it. Every time I see him, talk to him, I care less. It won’t be long before I can say ‘I love E,’ and it won’t mean a thing. At least it won’t mean any more than my saying, ‘I love string cheese.’ How can that not be heart-breaking? It is nonetheless the truth; on top of being the truth, it’s probably healthy. One can’t go around reenacting Carmen everyday.

It’s hard, because if there’s one thing that I love about me, it’s my passion. It’s not that I’m becoming passionless, but without a focus, it does seem to dissipate, and I miss it. I miss it more than I’ll ever miss who E is. I miss my passion-object. I miss my object. I miss having a person in my life that I think of as an object. Lord, I need me some therapy because I meant that last sentence more than anything.

By the by, the Color Purple is not good. It made me want to see the movie, and all those Broadway actors using their talents in a better show.

adventure in hearing damage

I made it to the gym, because it was a beautiful day outside, and my hangover finally passed. I took a step class that was very crowded, so I set up my step in the back. It was a good class except for the fact that the instructor wouldn't stop screaming into her microphone which then amplified over the thumping step music into the most painful simulation of a poorly executed rock concert by a band that sucks. It was really awful. All I wanted were some baby Apple headphones.

30 minutes into class (and 30 to go), I made my way to the front of the room and politely asked the instructor to turn down her volume a little bit. She looked at me like I was out my damn mind. Then she said, 'you want it turned up or down?' into the microphone and I said down, and she repeated, 'down?' with a distinct but unspoken 'bitch, you did not just say down to me.'

Then some step-happy-crazed-cut-high-kicking-gay man screamed, 'Turn up the volume, turn up the volume" in time with the music because the stepping never stopped. This was not a drama moment (on my part). Seriously, it took seconds. I retreated back to my step and finished the class. She never turned her volume down. I was however determined to get my work out, and I wasn't about to be the white girl that left class cause it was too loud for my WASPy-silence-loving tiny ass.

I used to teach step in college. I know a few things. I know that one should not scream into the microphone, that one should not confuse themselves with Bono at Madison Square Gardens. I also know that the final lunges we did were not even. So there.

yet again

I am hung-over, and I'm deciding that AW might be a bad influence. I wonder if chewable aspirin works faster than regular aspirin. That and I'm wondering if I can hide under my desk...