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Shoplifters of the World Unite

Well last night was very chilled out. I hung out at home, watched TV. Actually was watching John Adams, quite sad last night. Also watched Marianne Faithfull with her 20th Century Blues, singing the songs of Kurt Weill and one by Harry Nilsson. She’s a favorite of mine. I saw her in the 80’s at the Bottom Line on the Stranger Weather tour. She was off junk and looking great, smoking up a storm, but then again everyone was back then. Strange Weather is a Tom Waits song, presently owned by Marianne.

It was also the song that kept playing in my head last Wednesday when I was caught in a power play in the office. It’s a melancholy song and it rings true, especially with the lines, ‘all over the world, strangers talk only about the weather. All over the world, it’s the same’. Yeah it would be a difficult song to link arms and have a sing along while hoisting pints. While John Adams was watching his son Charlie die, I was playing Scrabulous on Facebook with Julio and his cheap words. Scrabulous is a very unauthorized online version of Scrabble which Julio and I used to play back in his jazzy days. His words are cheap but admissible.

Still I rallied and won the first game I had played in a number of years. Bill came home last night, first time in weeks, at least when I’ve been here. It was really nice to be able to hold him while sleeping, and no, I didn’t throw any punches in the middle of the night, though oddly enough I woke up with some strange mark on my nose. It doesn’t hurt but still I have no idea what it is or how it got there. Just a small blotch about a centimeter long, and of course, it’s red. I don’t think it was there before I went to sleep. Bill noticed it too and I told him, maybe he hit me (for once) while sleeping. I don’t think he liked that humorous accusation.

I left the apartment before Bill and sat on a soon to be very crowded bus. Got to the office, once again before everyone else. The day off I had on Friday made it difficult to get motivated this morning but I got my act together and made coffee. As usual the dribs and drabs trickled in. One of the people I work with, Padma is very nice and very smart. She’s a PhD and we usually have some fun chats throughout the week. Today she asked me where Quinn was. Quinn is a guy from Ireland, not very social hence my never ever writing about him before. I think he’s a jerk with a brogue. He used to live in Hoboken and even owns a restaurant in town. I tried talking to him about that, he was so unresponsive I thought I should check his pulse.

Anyway, he wasn’t in. Last week Vivek told me he would be working out of the office more than usual. OK by me. So Padma asked where he was and I told her that he’s going to be working out of the office from time to time. No big deal, right? Well to Tom Chin it was a big deal. About 20 minutes Tom Chin comes up to me, telling me that I’ve spilled the beans. I immediately thought, I made coffee, and I don’t recall spilling any beans. I didn’t recall any beans at all, we get our coffee ground. Tom Chin was very upset and had me meet him in Greg Stevens office.

There was Greg, nice guy, a friend almost, sitting at his desk, telling me to close the door. Next to him sat Tom Chin, angry. Greg asked me what did I say to Padma. I told him what I told her, which is what I heard from Vivek, that Quinn will probably be working out of the office more often. Greg turned to Tom Chin and said, ‘No big deal.’ Apparently something is happening here and I don’t know what it is. I have an idea though and it doesn’t turn out well for anyone.

Had an excellent chat with brother Frank. He really sounds almost as good as he did before the stroke. Perhaps the seizure he had reset the wiring in his brain. Still has a lot of rehab to go through though. We talked about John Adams amongst other things, including my Arcade Fire meltdown last year. He remembered the anniversary. Still neither one of us could figure out what cause my anhedonia that night. It was odd especially since I had reread the emails we exchanged the day after the meltdown, when I woke up and realized the problem wasn’t with him, it was actually with me. It was a good talk and I’m glad he’s one of my best friends.

The Bitch is Back

Oh what a crappy day. Weather wise it’s not so good either. Mainly all the turmoil is internal. Can’t seem to get a haircut and I need one. Just don’t feel like waiting in the barbershop on the corner. I’ve walked by a few times today and there are guys waiting for haircuts, and someone is always in my barber Tony’s chair. So I walk on by. It’s a Dionne Warwick kind of day. The high point of the day was this morning seeing Julio and Stine for a few minutes. Nice little chat, Stine’s ready to have the baby, just a few more days. Wednesday is the due date. She’s uncomfortable with the baby kicking her internal organs. That’s gotta suck.

After that, a nice breakfast for me and time to think about what to do. Bill called and professed his love for me which was nice. But as nice as it is, I’m getting tired of the way our relationship is going. Almost flat lining. I haven’t seen him in a couple of weeks, though he has been here, in the apartment when I’m not. He left work once or twice to come here and take a nap, gone my the time I came home. And it’s not just that I hardly ever see him anymore. At least to me it does. How Bill feels about it, I couldn’t tell you.

I have had so much time to myself, that I can focus only on what is missing from my life. A lover is missing, that’s for sure. Human contact would be nice, someone to make love to and then cuddle with afterwards. It’s been years since that happened. I’ve thought about seeing a shrink, but I only want to talk about the matter at hand and they want a long commitment, which I am not willing to commit to. Once again I headed into the city to check out some art galleries. That seems to be the thing that I do lately. Bill asked me to call him if I went into the city so I did.

He told me that he was almost through with his voice class, then he was headed up to Washington Heights to see his friends and talk. They have a therapy like thing happening up there. Then he was off to the play he is stage managing at the Theater for the New City. He offered to meet me before tonight’s show, but as ‘appealing’ as that sounded it seemed highly unlikely. It would require me killing some more time just to see him for a few minutes and I just didn’t feel like doing that. It wouldn’t do me any good, since I’m not feeling that good about it. He wouldn’t be in the right frame of mind to listen to me talk about all the things I am writing here. He’s done it to me before, but I won’t do it to him. Unload a bunch of grief before having to do something else.

The Chelsea galleries were a disappointment. Same crappy art from a few weeks ago and I couldn’t find the gallery where the Fluxus show was which may have been the whole point of a Fluxus show. My attitude is presently, ‘fuck it’. I’ve cleaned house in some ways, deleted Facebook contacts that I don’t know, having never met them at all, friends of ‘friends’ and guys that think I was hot. No more, they are gone. More than likely they’ll never know and I won’t be getting any more stupid invites from them, to buy and sell people or some other crap nonsense like that. I changed the status of my relationship on Facebook and noticed that Bill has done the same. restored it actually.

I am happy to be back in the apartment, not dealing with anyone. The streets are rife with people pushing baby strollers, groups of people walking en masse on the street, not moving out of the way. Just tired of it all. Not suffering fools gladly or sadly.

After writing that I went out and finally got a hair cut. Tony did a good job. Mainly I go to Tony since he trims my goatee as well, trims it down nicely and cuts out a lot of gray hairs. Then I went to Empire Coffee to get my free pound of coffee. I used to get Goya or El Pico but I’ve been buying coffee for the office and with every ten pounds you get a free pound. It went well.

Unloaded my grief onto Annemarie via a phone call. She of course was as understanding as usual. Probably saw where this was headed before I did. Where am I in this relationship? Where is this relationship going? Is it a ‘proper’ relationship? What is a ‘proper’ relationship anyway? I do love him.

street level

waiting for a dance partner

Chelsea blossoms

a wooden bicycle

fellow travelers

Outside my window