Ahh Monday. Sleeping in, is a nice way to wake up. Bill leaned over and kissed me as he was off to work all dapper with his fedora. I didn’t have anything to do really. I’m off for the next two weeks until I start the new job on January 2. Julio’s working until Wednesday, Juan’s at school until Wednesday, and Bill is doing whatever it is that Bill does probably way past Wednesday until the end of my life which could be and should be a long time. Actually all I have to do is work at Farfetched on Saturday. I worked today and it was slow going but didn’t pick up until the sparkling wine hit the liver.

It was ok but I wish I had something to do. Over the weekend I was able to check my email at McMann and Tate and I thanked most everyone, no, actually I thanked EVERYONE for the party via the external mail website that I was excluded from today. So it’s official I am out. Which is a mixed bag. On one hand I’m happy but on the other I am just weirded out by the whole situation. You know the self doubt. Did I do the right thing? What am I moving into?

I seem to be feeling it more than I did when I left Wanker Banker. But this is life and you leave, you move on and chances are you will never see any of these people again. I sort of got the picture after leaving the holiday party and not being invited to any of the after parties. That happened in September during their idiotic ‘Back to School’ party. These people are so insular that I should have known better. But still I held out hope. I figured Will Heath would’ve invited me to his flat for after hour drinks since we seemed to be friends, but a good host wouldn’t invite someone that makes people uncomfortable.

I make people uncomfortable, at least in that’s in the office. It may be a fair trade off since they made me uncomfortable for about nine months, a most uneasy gestation. I did send some pictures that I had taken at the party and only one person that I sent them to responded, telling me how they loved me. Oh that Renee. Everyone else seemed to have fallen by the wayside, including Linda who despite her telling me that if I was unhappy I should go since she would do the same if only she didn’t have those pesky Visa problems.

I think she was talking about traveling papers and not her credit card but who knows? Scatterbrained is as scatterbrained does. But she is still sweet and I would always say hello and buy her a drink at the pub should our paths ever cross again.

Farfetched was fine, just Lois, Harry and myself. I asked for a reprieve from the holiday music and was able to play Black Bread, White Beer by Scritti Politti which seems to fit almost any occasion that it is played during. Two bottles of Ponseca and I was looped. We should’ve started drinking earlier. Like around 12:30PM.

A truly lazy Sunday. Yesterday was lazy too. I didn’t have to work at Farfetched since I had switched working on Monday instead. I took Bill to see the Manhattan Transfer at the Blue Note Jazz Club in the Village. Bill saw them about 20 years ago at Radio City and I felt it might be fun to see them in a more intimate setting. I planned this a few months ago and I was surprised I was able to keep it a secret for so long, but Bill was preoccupied with many things so it wasn’t very difficult. And it was a reason to get dressed up.

The original plan was that I was going to work at Farfetched from 11:00 to 6:30, and I was going to do that in a suit and tie. Susan came up with the idea to switch days so it worked out fine for all concerned. Bill had his rehearsal for a play that is going to be performed in February and then his vocal coach and was supposed to meet me at Farfetched, both looking dapper. I thought he knew but apparently forgot or wasn’t listening since I was home when he called asking if he could go the way he was dressed.

Blue Jeans and a faded Nuyorican Poets Café sweatshirt. I told him if that is what he wanted to wear that would be fine. I was going to be dressed up. He came home with some brownies and offered me two. I took one, leaving the other for later on as I was about to jump into the shower. I started to get dressed and Bill saw what I was wearing so he decided to get dressed up as well. I got a phone call from Julio, inviting me to stop by before we left.

I went down to Julio’s where he was hanging out with Simon a Danish friend staying at Claire’s apartment. Simon had procured some Moroccan spice which he was rolling into a nice Scandinavian Spliff. Had a swig from a beer and a puff and I was feeling fine as Bill stopped by and we were out the door soon after. We got to the Path train which was filled with people heading into the city on a Saturday night. It was jam packed as we stood and chatted getting off at the Ninth Street station.

I thought it would be a good idea to walk along Washington Square to throw off any ideas that Bill might be having and were online outside the Blue Note in no time. The doorman saw me and asked for my name and I told him, to which he said, ‘follow me’. Apparently we were VIP’s and were soon escorted to a prime, yet cramped table about 10 feet from the stage.

The Manhattan Transfer came out and sang beautifully for about 90 minutes. I remember seeing them on TV in the seventies and I could’ve sworn both of the guys were gay, though Alan Paul, the younger looking guy dedicated a song to Angela, his wife of 25 years. Okay…

We were back in Hoboken by 10:00. Julio and Simon had come back from getting some food and I joined them for about 45 minutes before heading back upstairs. I was focused on the other brownie but all I could find was the empty bag. Turns out Bill ate all of them, thinking that I had both of mine. I just went to bed.