A Dizzy In The Lizzy
(01/10/2003; 10:21am) - Last nite I ate at Sassy's Sliders for the 1st and last time
My GF recieved free passes to a screening last night of "The Guru." So we went, obviously.
She was surprised at how short the line was outside the theater for the screening, as she's been to many advance screenings and the lines were usually around the block.
There is a reason for everything.
I suppose the reason for the short line was the same reason they didn't check our tickets as we went in.
Do not pay money to see this movie.
Let me summarize:
Heather Graham plays a confused character, a Catholic bride-to-be who secretly moonlights as a porn star to pay the bills. Her husband is a big doofy Irish fireman. I think he played the young Biff in Back to the Future. I'm kidding, but you get the idea. At the end of the flick he discover he's playing "hide the salami" with his ladder operator.
Okay, it's like this:
This Indian dude comes to America to make it big. He has no chance, he was a dance instructor in India and is not attractive. He tries out for a part in a porn movie (see where this is going?) and gets it but can't perform. Heather Graham ends up tutoring him on his sexual hang-ups. [skipping uninteresting plot details] Marissa Tomei thinks this Indian guy is a sex guru cuz she's a freaky, neurotic Manhattan JAP and he banged her once. She starts blabbing to her friends and he ends up giving sex advice to all sorts of random people. For money. Needless to say, this is the same advice he's receiving from Heather Graham the day before.
Long story short: Indian gets hits the big-time as a sex guru (oh, yeah, his name is Rammi). In the climactic scene that makes me want to kill myself:
A)Heather Graham finds out Rammi's been selling her inner thoughts
B)Rammi realizes her loves her; vice versa
C)Marissa gets snubbed by Rammi (she loved him or something)
D)Heather Graham almost gets married
E)Rammi stops the wedding
F)Groom's gay lover shows up too
HAPPY EVER AFTER! I guess I didn't mention that the movie occasionally breaks out into frightening song, a la Grease. Except all the songs have this mish-mosh of Indian music and pop crap and it's terrible.
Worst part: only one pair of naked titties in the movie, and they're not Heather Graham's.
OK, so the movie wasn't great. It somehow managed to be formulaic and predictable as well as painfully mediocre.
But I had fun seeing it with my lady and then hanging with the crew on the UES.
Fun.
Hi ho, hi ho...
-B
(01/07/2003; 01:23pm) - Anything dipped in egg automatically acquires a new indentity.
Well, I think I have been posting too much in the fora about Croque Monsieurs, because after a lengthy rant delineating the uniqueness of the CM when compared with the plebian ham sandwich, no one else has posted. At all. Anywhere. Is it possible I killed our fora? The truth remains to be seen.
I also have to watch the clock as I blog; thanks to our beloved site-op for resuscitating (sp?) my last post. I took about 15 minutes to write it, and then it disappared. I really thought it had been lost. The wonders of modern technology.
Last few days have been odd but post-holiday life is slowly returning to normal. I must again cut down on spending. I will be lovin my two-and-a-half pound bucket of Skippy Creamy peanut butter for the nest month or so! It lives on my desk here at work. Under a mostly empty jar of marshmallow fluff. I will hopefully be hitting the gym in a somewhat regular routine, attempting to boost myself up beyond the paltry 170 lbs to which I have wasted away. At one point in my life I weighed 188. To that end I bought a buncha powerbar-type thingies to snack on at work. Not cheap but definitely more protein and less carbs than the mounds of chocolates we have here at the office.
I took care of my lady last night. She somehow got sicker than she was this weekend and was praying to our favorite goddess all yesterday. I brought her some liquids to drink and some meds to keep her from selling any more Buicks. The lights were out in her apt and stayed out. I walked her dog and came back inside and passed out next to her on her bed. She didn't yarf all night and managed to drink a bunch of Gatorade. Baby steps.
I'm going there after work to make us some filet mignon, hopefully she'll keep that down. It feels good to finally be of some use to her; she's always hellbent on doing everything on her own. Now that she's sick I can shower her with care.
Work has picked up a little in recent days. This is good. It sucks to sit around and surf the net all day. No, really! I like to be busy. Speaking of which...
B out, back to work & reality
(01/03/2003; 03:34pm) - Don't sweat the small stuff- love the small stuff.
Things are cool. The highlight of yesterday was exchanging a sweater from ExpressMen I got for XMas for another sweater. Yippee.
Last night the weather blew goats, it was sleeting here in NYC, so there wasn't much motivation to do anything. I would have gone to see my GF but she was beginning to get sick and just wanted to relax at home and stay out of the cold. And to be honest it was miserable out there so I was content to talk to her for a long time on the phone. Ye! Stayed up too late. Did not want to get out of bed this morning.
There were no coffee cups at work at first which didn't help me wake up.
Not that it mattered, work was slow.
Vague plans for tonight involving a friend, dinner (salivating as I dream about mexican food!), some low-key hanging out. That's fine for me. I hope to actually see my GF in person before she blasts off for work.
Other than that I plan on sleeping in forever tomorrow. Damn the torpedoes.
For now, WOLF FM is howling the best mix of the 70s & 80s at me while I waste the remaining hours before the weekend starts. I tried again today, unsuccessfully, to surf to the end of the internet. I got stuck in a BBQing web ring. I read a gay man's weblog. He liked guys with small dicks. I tried to figure out how to procure a gov't grant, but that's a lot easier if you're starting a small business. I looked at every picture on a site dedicated to car crashes. Wear a seat belt. I read a follow-up article where a high-ranking member of the US Air Force defended the USAF encouraging their pilots to take amphetamine pills during long flights, a practice that may have caused the bombing of Canadian servicemen by a US fighter jet in Afghanistan. Apparently our hopped-up pilot was incapable of determining who, exactly, was on the ground below him, but was fully capable of guiding a laser-guided bomb to within 3 feet of a group of people, who turned out to be Canadians. It is unfortunate that this headline is lost in a tidal wave of more violent and disturbing news.
I digress.
It's funny how when things are going okay for you, you usually don't notice. But when life is shitty you pray for uneventful days like this. Love the normal days as much as you loathe the crappy ones and you will live a happier life. Oh, and try not to read the news. It's all fucked up, and it will make you sad.
B out, not wealthy, not weeping.
(01/01/2003; 04:08am) - Work is lame, food poisoning likewise. Happy New Year!
It feels like much has happened since I last posted.
The weekend was pretty good. Fun party at Mikey's friend's place in the west village.
Monday at work was boring, so was Tuesday. I was in a funk on Tuesday, for no apparent reason. Tuesday night I broke out of that funk to go with my roommate to visit an old friend Joe who just moved in 3 blocks away from us. We were his first guests in his new apt. We brought over some beers. I neglected to eat dinner that night so I stopped at my trusty (right!) local pizza joint for a slice on my way home.
The tip-off shoulda been the fact that the pie looked old and stale, like it had been sittin there in the pizza shop all day. They didn't heat the slice up all the way either so it was lukewarm when I ate it. But what did I care? I was hungry.
Well, I should cared because I was woken up at 4:30AM with sharp pains in my stomach and acute nausea. I proceeded to spend from 4:30AM to 11AM today having a terrible case of the runs and sporadic vomiting. I really couldn't eat or get out of bed all day. I called into work. It was pretty miserable. I finally felt OK enough at 4:30PM to go to the deli downstairs to get some meds to make me feel better. Miraculously I made it to my GF's club to spend New Years with her, which is all I really wanted to do. Goddamn food poisoning, you can't hold me down.
I didn't dance much but the point was that when the year changed from 2002 to 2003, I was locking lips with my baby.
Later, at about 2 something, site-op called me and told me to come over to his party in Astoria. I asked him if they would all still be up when I got there as it would take me a long time. I had to stop at home first. He assured me they would all be up and partying, so I left right away. Just before I set foot in my apt , site-op called me to tell me they were all passing out over at his party. So this left me awake, with nothing to do, while I could have been spending time with my GF. Needless to say, she's pissed that our beloved site-op called me away. But what are you gonna do? Oh well.
Happy new year, dude.
B
(12/30/2002; 01:44pm) - As a follow-up to my previous post...
I wonder if she really know how much I love her, and what that love means? I've told her in the past, so I'm pretty sure she knows where I'm coming from. But I wonder if when she says "I love you," it means the same thing? She is so independent, it's hard to imagine that she would need me the way I need her. And yet I am actively trying to NOT need her, but rather to appreciate her presence in my life without having her as a crutch to help me through the rough spots. What I really want, though, is to feel needed. Isn't that the best part about love? When someone says, "Hey, I need you tonight. Can you come over?" But the more I get to know this one, the less I feel she needs me. Although as I write this I am reminded of an email she wrote me singing the praises of our relationship, and how we're always here for each other, helping eachother through the rough spots.
I think one of my major faults is that somewhere along the line I programmed myself to only remember the bad times, the ways I'ver been wronged. And I can call them up at the drop of a hat. But to remember all the good times and all the kind words that have been said about me, that doesn't come as readily to me. I wonder why that is?
So I am in love here. And I am loved back, of that I am sure. But loved how? I know she calls me her "partner," innocently and sweetly. It's nice to be someone's other half, someone's partner in crime. But I want to feel wanted. I want to hear from her during the afternoon, "Benny, I think I'm gonna go nuts if I don't see you tonight. You HAVE to come over." That kind of thing melts my heart.
See, the thing is, I've heard that from her before, but sometimes even if she's said that to me, she may get tied up doing something else, like sleeping, which to her defense is a really important thing to do. And then I'm like, "Yeah, I wanna see you really bad, too!" and I don't get to see her. Which sucks. I suppose our opposite schedules are to blame fro not seeing one another as much as we'd like to, but I'm willing to go the extra mile to see her, if it means missing sleep or even work.
So this is me, trying to readjust my priorities. This is me, attempting to put myself and my needs first, something I'm not used to doing. This is me, still playing tug-of-war with my own emotions. This is me, in love and loved back, and still horny as hell.
B out
(12/26/2002; 02:25pm) - Life is a highway, and I'm going to quote lyrics all day long
Christmas in CT was anticlimactic.
It was nice seeing Dad and the bros and some friends. I knew what I was getting for the most part so no surprises there. Nobody really seemed to make a big deal about my arrival or departure. A simple goodbye and a hug was what I got from all. I guess that's a good thing. I'm a big boy now, I make my home in another city. That's just the way things go. While in CT I got the feeling that I was not at home anymore. My home is now NYC. I couldn't wait to get back here.
There's a girl somewhere here, I think she's asleep now but she'll be up soon. It sounds saccharine but I just can't wait to lay on her bed and hold her tight to me.
It's hard when you know that to give everything to someone else, yet again, would be foolhardy. And yet each time she speaks of how much she cares for me, another piece of my heart is chipped off and handed over to her. I've made the mistake before of giving too much away, and so now I try to control this thing which is intangible, which has no definite values or boundaries. It feels like a tug-of-war, and half the time I feel like dropping my end of the rope.
She and I have talked in length about love and independence and she has made it clear that if things don't work out between us she will not stop living. She will go on and remember the good times and chalk up the whole thing to "life experience" and she'll never look back. She's strong, and I daresay she's stronger than me because when I love someone it's hard to simply shut those feelings off when it ends. To my credit I am a much more independent and whole person than I was last year. All of the things that happen to me help me in some way and I know that if this ends the love withdrawl will not be nearly as bad as last time. But still, it's like knowing your wisdom teeth are coming in all impacted. You know that perhaps, in a long time, you may have to get them all out and that will surely suck a lot. In the meantime you try pretend that will never happen.
Love is a big deal.
(12/24/2002; 10:28am) - Gotta go out with a bang...
GF finished her last final yesterday. I napped. Woke up. Over to midtown bar with GF for her company XMas party, It was very special. We partied like rock stars.
Party was 11-1, at 1 a group of us headed downtown to a gay club called Splash which only got into because I was with a bunch of gay dudes. We danced the night away and closed the place down. All of her gay coworkers love me; they were asking us when me and her were going to get married. Jesus, not anytime soon was our answer.
I realize this post is not coherent or nearly as interesting as the fun night warrants and therefore I will cut it off before
(12/23/2002; 10:01am) - The clincher...
I forgot the best(worst?) part about my new dentist's office:
There was actually a NY State license plate on the wall that read TOOTH. My friends were saying that that's cool, but come on guys- a LICENSE PLATE on the wall of a DENTIST'S OFFICE? What's next, a hubcap collection? A spare tire in the corner? It's not a friggin garage!
This dentist seems to have no idea what he's talking about; I hope he's at least a stand-up type of guy and lays $5,000 on me for losing his bet to me. He said he was flying to the West Coast for X-Mas and that he would call me when he came back to NYC. I gave him the name and number of the D.D.S. who rebuilt my front teeth; my new dentist said he would check into it when he got back. Bitch better gimme my money or I'm switching dentists.
(12/23/2002; 03:48pm) - Tentative schedule for next 4 days:
Today:
5:30pm: leave work
6pm: nap time
9pm: wake up, shower, pack up stuff for work tomorrow and presents for people at home in CT
10pm: meet up with GF
11pm: go to her work X-Mas party at midtown bar
1am: afterparty!!!
-[sleep? no sleep? who knows!]-
Tomorrow:
9am: go to work
2pm: leave work, meet brother at car, drive to CT
7pm: Christmas dinner w/ fam at friends' place, a lifelong tradition, not to be missed
10pm: out to Tommy's bar?
-[sleep is a must at this point]-
Christmas Day:
11am: wake up, exchange presents
noon: eat
1pm: bet you anything I'll take a nap
7pm: dinner w/ fam at home
-[sweet, glorious sleep]-
Dec 26th:
5:30am: wake up
6am: drive back to city
10am: back to work, dangit
5:30pm: off work, I will see my GF tonight if I have battle the forces of darkness to do so!
exchange presents w/ her?
(12/20/2002; 12:10am) - You know you need to find a new dentist when...
...the dental assistants are ghetto-fabulous.
...the girl doing your X-rays fucks up so that you get irradiated 5 times in one morning as opposed to 2.
...the girl cleaning your teeth drops stuff and bumbles around to an alarming extent.
...the entrance to the waiting room is through one dirty door that opens directly onto 2nd Ave in Harlem.
...the chair and dental equipment appear to be 2 or 3 decades old.
...the dentist is a full 20 minutes late to the office. ("Bad traffic!" Uh huh)
...the dentist argues with you, telling you that your two front teeth are real teeth, when in fact you distinctly remember both of them being knocked out while playing soccer in 4th grade, as well as the multiple trips to the oral surgeon to have caps put on.
...the dentist so adamantly insists that your two front teeth are real that he bets you $100 that they are your real teeth, and when you decline to take the bet, he raises the bet to $1000, and finally an astronomical $5000, at which point you decide to shut up about your dental history and just agree with the fucking idiot.
Um, yeah, so I visited my new dentist for the first (and probably last) time this morning. Thanks Managed DentalGuard for appointing this maniac as my primary care dentist, I will be changing dentists very soon.
The good news: I have excellent teeth. Even the two fake ones in front.