<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-205223477026391848</id><updated>2011-07-30T12:22:50.218-04:00</updated><title type='text'>...chapter two...</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hyde-chaptertwo.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/205223477026391848/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hyde-chaptertwo.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Hyde</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://h1.ripway.com/da119/avatarmermaid.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>37</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-205223477026391848.post-6191948906538353445</id><published>2009-12-19T17:09:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-12-19T17:12:14.716-05:00</updated><title type='text'>In the wake of it all...</title><content type='html'>N and I still haven't seen each other.  It has been desperately difficult as he has texted me several times with things like: "I do and always have loved you more than I've ever loved anyone."  At this point, though, I have to ask-- what's the point?  I have been defeated.  I am a very stubborn girl, but defeat is the only way to true victory sometimes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I've had two dates with someone new and I think there's real potential there.  I'm just taking that one date at a time though and not making it too important.  A lot is happening.  I can't believe I almost forgot my own blog address.  Maybe I'll write a little about it all, maybe not.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Liu is in town visiting and NDN &amp;amp; Tamika are having a holiday party tonight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-h-&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/205223477026391848-6191948906538353445?l=hyde-chaptertwo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hyde-chaptertwo.blogspot.com/feeds/6191948906538353445/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=205223477026391848&amp;postID=6191948906538353445' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/205223477026391848/posts/default/6191948906538353445'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/205223477026391848/posts/default/6191948906538353445'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hyde-chaptertwo.blogspot.com/2009/12/in-wake-of-it-all.html' title='In the wake of it all...'/><author><name>Hyde</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://h1.ripway.com/da119/avatarmermaid.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-205223477026391848.post-8944331455590365583</id><published>2009-10-11T19:26:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-11T19:27:02.888-04:00</updated><title type='text'>This is...</title><content type='html'>... so frickin' hard.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/205223477026391848-8944331455590365583?l=hyde-chaptertwo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hyde-chaptertwo.blogspot.com/feeds/8944331455590365583/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=205223477026391848&amp;postID=8944331455590365583' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/205223477026391848/posts/default/8944331455590365583'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/205223477026391848/posts/default/8944331455590365583'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hyde-chaptertwo.blogspot.com/2009/10/this-is.html' title='This is...'/><author><name>Hyde</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://h1.ripway.com/da119/avatarmermaid.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-205223477026391848.post-7164698601923797160</id><published>2009-10-09T07:52:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2009-10-09T07:53:22.077-04:00</updated><title type='text'>7/7-04-10/8/09</title><content type='html'>We are officially over. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have no more words.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-h-&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/205223477026391848-7164698601923797160?l=hyde-chaptertwo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hyde-chaptertwo.blogspot.com/feeds/7164698601923797160/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=205223477026391848&amp;postID=7164698601923797160' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/205223477026391848/posts/default/7164698601923797160'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/205223477026391848/posts/default/7164698601923797160'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hyde-chaptertwo.blogspot.com/2009/10/77-04-10809.html' title='7/7-04-10/8/09'/><author><name>Hyde</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://h1.ripway.com/da119/avatarmermaid.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-205223477026391848.post-7526511709321986864</id><published>2009-09-03T12:27:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-03T12:29:53.531-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Autumn Arrives</title><content type='html'>I love that it's the Fall...finally!  The humidity is gone this week.  I am feeling pretty good.  I was B12 deficient but got a shot and now I'm not.  Things with Narc have been very rocky.  I had an anxiety attack on Saturday.  I am looking for a new sponsor in AA.  Funny how all of that is going on and I still feel pretty good. My singing is keeping me in place.  I bought a corset yesterday on Orchard Street.  I am finally plowing ahead and working on my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;incompletes&lt;/span&gt;.  Today I am wearing a cranberry colored short-sleeved sweater and I love it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Um... that's it for now.  I sort of wish I wanted to blog more.  I miss it, but still can't sit to write.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;love,&lt;br /&gt;h&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/205223477026391848-7526511709321986864?l=hyde-chaptertwo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hyde-chaptertwo.blogspot.com/feeds/7526511709321986864/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=205223477026391848&amp;postID=7526511709321986864' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/205223477026391848/posts/default/7526511709321986864'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/205223477026391848/posts/default/7526511709321986864'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hyde-chaptertwo.blogspot.com/2009/09/autumn-arrives.html' title='Autumn Arrives'/><author><name>Hyde</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://h1.ripway.com/da119/avatarmermaid.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-205223477026391848.post-1037601406724793032</id><published>2009-08-13T13:20:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-08-13T13:41:41.879-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A Girl in the World</title><content type='html'>I haven't been blogging because I haven't had the time and also because I'm not in the sort of head-space right now in which I want to be thinking about myself, obsessing about my relationships or any of it.  And, as I don't know how to confront a blank page without flooding it with self-obsession, I have chosen to remain silent.  I do miss sharing my life with all of you out there, though, so I thought I'd drop in for a quick update.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My trip was amazing.  It changed me in a way that nothing else could.  I had to get out of NY.  The conference went really well.  I felt "a part of" the scholarly community.  My paper was received with excellent reviews and I made some good contacts there.  I was filled with ideas for new papers, for revising old papers, and I was suddenly motivated to be an aspect of myself that has long been dormant.  I felt like an historian.  I felt like &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;me&lt;/span&gt;-- a me I haven't given priority to in a long, long time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then, there was Paris.  Paris was... well-- Paris!  My friends were so lovely in how they welcomed me.  They are both creative, intellectual types and I met many of their friends-- dinner parties, long talks in cafes, jazz clubs.  I felt like another self there as well-- a sophisticated, intellectual, independent, self-loving self.  It was another me and one that I want to preserve so badly.  I went on a date there with a Marlon Brando wannabe who picked me up on a motorcycle with a cigarette dangling from his lips.  He was super cute-- an antiques dealer.  Too bad he was also a narcissistic personality.  I chose not to call him again.  I want better for myself now.  I am interesting enough to have a man be interested in &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;me.  &lt;/span&gt;He is not the only one in the room anymore.  I also did way too much shopping, but felt that somehow it was also part of crafting this "self" that I allowed to emerge.  I sang at a Jazz club and got rave reviews and was invited to return the next night.  I sang opera there and imagined myself to be a singer in Paris.  I could be. I could pick up and move there tomorrow and do just that.  I am free.  I am young and talented and smart and can do whatever I want.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In Scotland, I faced physical challenges.  I breathed in mountain air and climbed hills past my comfort point, until my lungs burned and my legs ached.  But I did it and I was thrilled that I could.  It was part of my new relationship with my new body-- I am slim now (which makes it easier to climb), in shape (at least way more than I ever was) and I can enjoy that.  I saw the majesty of the universe in the most phenomenal natural landscape I have ever seen.  I took off my clothes and swam in ice cold mountain pools below waterfalls.  I sang Tosca in the Cuillin Mountains on the Isle of Skye.  I made so many new friends.  I was a new self there as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And all the while, I was scared of losing it.  What it would all mean to come back to NY, to come back to myself.  The first week away, I was trying to get in touch with Narc and he mostly ignored me.  It ate at me... gnawed at me.   I gave away my power.  Until I decided to take it back.  I decided to stop caring whether he wrote and I decided not to write back to him until the very end of my trip.  It was so liberating.  I was so empowered.  But when I got back to NY, he was paranoid.  He called me repeatedly and tried to come up here and accused me of fucking other guys while I was away and being "dishonest like all women."  I wasn't used to be talked to like that anymore...being called a whore, a liar, an asshole.  And it struck me in a way that was shocking.  He was just paranoid and scared.  I can forgive him that.  But I don't want to lose what I learned.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did see him later that week.  He apologized and told me how much he loves me and doesn't want to lose me.  But as soon as our tie had been re-cemented, he resumed his normal ways-- ignoring my texts when he feels like it, calling me drunk, demanding I come to him, and not volunteering to come to my place or accommodate my schedule.  I have been slipping back and forth between accepting it as usual and fighting it.  We are sort of in a fight right now, in fact.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night I was out with him and several of his friends for a few hours in the evening.  A friend of one of his friends was there and I ended up talking to that guy, a poet, for a long time.  We had a real conversation connection-- I really liked him and respected him and felt that spark of recognition of a familiar soul.  How strange that I should meet someone like that through Narc.  I don't know if he'll call me.  I don't know what I'll do if he does call.  But part of me is angry that I am pulled to ignore this possibility because I bind myself to the sinking ship of my relationship with Narc.  I want to jump board so badly now.  I want to swim away and save myself.  But I fear that to do so would to be to turn and watch him go down with the ship and I can't bear to do that to him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being away I experienced a self not defined by drinking, by Narc, by my recovery, by my family, by therapy, by friends or any of that.  I was a self defined by art, by intellect, by conversation.  I want to make time for that girl-- to prioritize that girl.  But I don't know how to do that without abandoning the Hyde that is all about love and friendship and family and relationships-- the girl who prioritizes and makes time for everyone else but herself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I also have been struggling a lot with AA.  Aravis-- if you're reading this post, maybe you could give me some advice.  I would love to write to you about it in a longer email or perhaps talk on the phone.  I really respect where you are and what perspective you could offer me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Um... well, I guess that's it for now.  I don't want to get too stuck in thinking about this, like I said.  I am still in love with Sesame beyond belief and have been spending a lot of time with her.  She knows me and loves me too and she also knows that she has her Aunt Hyde wrapped around her little finger.  She is such a gift in my life.  Who knew how wonderful it could be!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok... hope you are all well.  I do miss the blog world.  This is all I have for the moment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;love,&lt;br /&gt;h&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PS: I dyed my hair even lighter blond and chopped it into a long bob.  I love it.  I also had to get new glasses.  I don't love that so much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;PPS: I found a pair of diamond earrings on the street.  I want to get them appraised.  Yay.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/205223477026391848-1037601406724793032?l=hyde-chaptertwo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hyde-chaptertwo.blogspot.com/feeds/1037601406724793032/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=205223477026391848&amp;postID=1037601406724793032' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/205223477026391848/posts/default/1037601406724793032'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/205223477026391848/posts/default/1037601406724793032'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hyde-chaptertwo.blogspot.com/2009/08/girl-in-world.html' title='A Girl in the World'/><author><name>Hyde</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://h1.ripway.com/da119/avatarmermaid.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-205223477026391848.post-3340472439237357644</id><published>2009-07-07T12:15:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-07-07T12:18:16.690-04:00</updated><title type='text'>To the point of exhaustion...</title><content type='html'>I haven't been on here in forever.  I have had the busiest month on record-- teaching an intensive summer course (&lt;em&gt;w/ a long commute&lt;/em&gt;), trying to write the paper for the upcoming conference, and a billion and one obligations to friends and family (&lt;em&gt;including the Hammer-Alaskan wedding&lt;/em&gt;!)  In any case, I'm leaving for a three week trip on Saturday-- to Cambridge, Paris and Scotland.  I can't wait!  But before I can get to the fun part, I have to get through the &lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_0" class="blsp-spelling-corrected"&gt;presentation&lt;/span&gt; of my paper which takes place on Monday, July 13&lt;span id="SPELLING_ERROR_1" class="blsp-spelling-error"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt;.  Wish me luck!!!  I'll be back to write more when I can.  I'm giving final exams today which means in the next three days I have to get all of my grading done, put the finishing touches on my conference paper &lt;em&gt;and &lt;/em&gt;pack.  Man, oh man...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hope you are all well out there!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;love,&lt;br /&gt;h&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/205223477026391848-3340472439237357644?l=hyde-chaptertwo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hyde-chaptertwo.blogspot.com/feeds/3340472439237357644/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=205223477026391848&amp;postID=3340472439237357644' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/205223477026391848/posts/default/3340472439237357644'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/205223477026391848/posts/default/3340472439237357644'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hyde-chaptertwo.blogspot.com/2009/07/to-point-of-exhaustion.html' title='To the point of exhaustion...'/><author><name>Hyde</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://h1.ripway.com/da119/avatarmermaid.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-205223477026391848.post-3373982599383835517</id><published>2009-05-28T11:22:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-28T11:28:06.751-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Return of "SeatleGuy"</title><content type='html'>It's strange...  I was just found on Facebook by SeattleGuy-- a guy that I was dating during the first few months of my relationship with Narc.  It seems that he has been back in NY for a year and is in law school.  Why does it feel like I knew him a lifetime ago?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Here's what he wrote to me:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Let me guess, you're married? Do you have a kid? Do you still sing?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, I finally made it to NY, last year. Am going to law school. I just got done with my first year a couple weeks ago. There's probably a lot of things that have happened, but law school has absorbed every whit of my focus, so I hardly even know "myself" if you know what I mean. New York is cool, though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do you still go to the Irish bar? I forget where it is; near 50th? I hope you're doing great; you struck me years ago as a really deserving person&lt;/span&gt;.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nice message, I guess...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I have a lot of work to do today, so no time for a long blog entry.  Yesterday was a day of artistic creation-- I had a great voice lesson (&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;once I got my energy going&lt;/span&gt;) and started my oil-painting class with StarGazer.  We were working on a sort of boring still-life-- a green vase, a wine glass and some brown eggs.  I want to paint Tudor style portraits of my niece.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The weather is strange here.  It's chilly out, but damp and muggy at the same time.  It makes me feel sleepy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On another note, I want to paint two walls of my bedroom a bright red.  But part of me is afraid that it won't feel cozy in there with such a bold color.  Hmm...  Guess I'll sit on that decision a while longer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok...that's it for now!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;love,&lt;br /&gt;h&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/205223477026391848-3373982599383835517?l=hyde-chaptertwo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hyde-chaptertwo.blogspot.com/feeds/3373982599383835517/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=205223477026391848&amp;postID=3373982599383835517' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/205223477026391848/posts/default/3373982599383835517'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/205223477026391848/posts/default/3373982599383835517'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hyde-chaptertwo.blogspot.com/2009/05/return-of-seatleguy.html' title='The Return of &quot;SeatleGuy&quot;'/><author><name>Hyde</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://h1.ripway.com/da119/avatarmermaid.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-205223477026391848.post-8037267893841337842</id><published>2009-05-20T23:32:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-20T23:40:09.048-04:00</updated><title type='text'>What a drag...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.scandalist.com/files/2009/03/adam-lambert-lead.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 450px; height: 300px;" src="http://www.scandalist.com/files/2009/03/adam-lambert-lead.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;...that Adam Lambert lost.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;NDN, Tamika and I are all fans.  Narc was rooting for Kris.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah, well... until next year!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;h&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/205223477026391848-8037267893841337842?l=hyde-chaptertwo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hyde-chaptertwo.blogspot.com/feeds/8037267893841337842/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=205223477026391848&amp;postID=8037267893841337842' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/205223477026391848/posts/default/8037267893841337842'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/205223477026391848/posts/default/8037267893841337842'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hyde-chaptertwo.blogspot.com/2009/05/what-drag.html' title='What a drag...'/><author><name>Hyde</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://h1.ripway.com/da119/avatarmermaid.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-205223477026391848.post-5478984081178772774</id><published>2009-05-18T23:46:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-05-18T23:57:03.276-04:00</updated><title type='text'>And so it goes...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;MAY 5th, 2009:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's still raining here and I can feel it in my bones.  This is not an easy week for me.  Today I'm thinking about 5/5/5.  On Thursday it is the 19th anniversary of my dad's death.  And on Saturday I'll have three years sober.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A lot is happening.  I feel sad right now.  I suppose I should be grateful that I can feel at all.  I usually walk around this work perplexedly numb to the many things that "should" make me wince with emotional pain. I had a panic attack on the subway earlier in the week.  I don't feel like talking about that.  But again-- a sign that there &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;is &lt;/span&gt;something there for me to be "feeling" about after all.  On Thursday I met Narc and his friend Ethan at &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Cercle Rouge.  &lt;/span&gt;After "drinks," we all stayed up late at his place watching "The Millionaire Matchmaker."  I ate from the cereal box that I leave on top of Narc's fridge.  It felt kind of crappy to have a third party there-- all of a sudden the silent dynamic between me and Narc-- all that I let go unmentioned-- was screaming for an explanation.  No explanation was offered to Ethan.  He probably didn't care.  I'm probably the only one who cared at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Friday morning the three of us ate dumplings in Chinatown.  Narc said if his mom were a moral person she would have aborted him.  I had my favorite bubble tea for dessert.  We walked West towards the Tribeca Film Festival.  I left the boys over coffee and headed to the Village to meet Hammer.  Hammer and I hung out at her apartment for a bit.  I was supposed to meet Meema to go to the gym later, but she flaked.  So, oddly enough, I ended up at home, without plans, on a Friday night.  It was not a good idea.  I was super-anxious.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, at last, morning broke and Saturday came.  StarGazer and I got pedicured and went shopping.  And after a prolonged silence, I finally caught up with Brick on the phone.  Then I came home to get ready for my "date" with TT.  Somehow I had agreed to try a proper date with him.  Even though, I am fairly sure we are not destined for each other, I agreed to give it a shot, having explained to him that I am sort of a roller coaster and he can take it or leave it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We met at Swing 46-- a swing music/big band supper club on restaurant row (not that far from where MJ took me out a few weeks ago)...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;__________________________________&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;MAY 18th, 2009:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I started writing that post a few weeks ago, and as I'm in a totally different head space now, I thought I'd just leave it "as is" and move on.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was going to tell you all about the date with TT-- mediocre conversation followed by some making out in the street that was sort of okay, but ultimately left me in neutral.  Right afterward, I saw Narc.  When I met him at BG he was reading tarot for two drunk middle aged, but scantily clad Russian women.  He was of course, quite drunk himself, and proceeded to ignore me for a good amount of time, until I dragged him home and we had fucked up psycho-sexual sex (&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;and some tears)&lt;/span&gt; that went on for a few hours and left me half elated and half disturbed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next morning, Narc and I had brunch with his friend Steve (&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;an event that stretched on well into the afternoon&lt;/span&gt;), and I had to head straight to my AA meeting from there, in the ridiculous heels and little dress that I had been wearing the night before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway...  TT followed up with the typical round of phone calls and texts, which left me feeling a little uncomfortable.  (&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Guilty, maybe?  Obligated?  I don't know...)  &lt;/span&gt;I don't think I'm into him, and I've known that for a while.  Why do I keep forgetting the fact?  In any case, we went on a second date to see &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Star Trek.  &lt;/span&gt;This time, as it was a casual movie-thing on a Thursday night, I felt even &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;less &lt;/span&gt;romantic and when he kissed me in the street after, I sort of just wanted his tongue out of my throat. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had put a "status-update" up on Facebook, that I was "seeking a Romantic encounter with a text."  Perhaps it was unclear that I was referring to a literary text-- a historical document, to be precise, but TT texted me to ask if he should do anything in response to my status update.  First of all, if I &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;did &lt;/span&gt;mean "text message," why would he assume that it was pointed at him.  When I explained to him that I was referring to a document, he apologized for being "paranoid."  Paranoid?  Ug.  That icky feeling of obligation-- where someone wants something from me, and I don't have it to give, was creeping up on me.  Not good.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But all that feels like it took place so long ago.  He has texted me and called several times since then and tried to make plans with me, but I have proven to be very elusive.  I am probably sending him mixed messages.  I haven't heard from him in about three days now, though, so perhaps he is drawing his own conclusions.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The weekend of May 9th-10th was a busy one for me.  Once past the hurtle of my dad's death-anniversary, I had to deal with the emotional implications of three years of sobriety.  The day before my anniversary, Hammer and I hung out all afternoon at the &lt;a href="http://www.paulacoopergallery.com/exhibitions/56"&gt;Sophie Calle exhibit&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt; in Chelsea.  It was amazing.  Afterwards I helped Hammer and the Alaskan paint long wooden sticks that are somehow going to be crafted into a chuppa for their wedding.  That night I met up with Jake and his friends to celebrate Jake's birthday.  We started at a Thai restaurant in the West Village and somehow ended up at a roof party at Astor Place.  I haven't been to an old school roof party like that in a long time. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I eventually got myself home by 2:30 AM, as I wanted to wake up early to make a 9:00 AM AA meeting on my anniversary.  As luck would have it, however, Narc called just as I was getting home.  He wanted to meet me at Cheers, but I had to avoid the place, as TT had texted me earlier in the evening that he was there.  So, I told Narc to meet me at a new pub down the block.  He was wasted when I arrived and we proceeded to get into a nasty fight.  I tried to leave, but the rain was coming down in sheets, and I felt guilty leaving him drunk and alone in my neighborhood in the rain.  So, I stood in the doorway of the pub for what seemed like forever.  He thought I had left for real and called me as they were closing up.  I came back in and told him I had never left.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That seemed to end our fight, but it only led into more really strange sex.  I swear-- it was like the old days with me and him that week.  We were up until nearly 6:00 AM and needless to say, I didn't make the AA meeting.  I sort of felt like shit about that happening on my anniversary.  Narc and I ate lunch at Cheers.  Sunday, May 10th was his birthday but I had to be on Long Island for Mother's Day.  So, I wrote him a note and folded it into his hand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Don't open it until midnight," I said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My note said something cheesy and loving and I don't feel like re-writing it here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That night I headed to Long Island where I met up with my family for dinner to celebrate (&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;at an Armenian restaurant in Douglaston) &lt;/span&gt;and then headed back to my parent's place to stay over. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Narc texted me after midnight:  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Just read your note.  I love you!!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See-- this is why I'm so crazy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway...  Mother's day was great-- BigSis' first time celebrating!  It helped take me out of my own head.  When I got back to the city that night, I met Narc, Mike and Steve at &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Cowgirl &lt;/span&gt;in the West Village.  Narc is obsessed with their corn dogs.  I hadn't seen Mike since my birthday party.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I didn't recognize you, as a blond!" he exclaimed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Narc was already tipsy.  He had spent the afternoon drinking beers in Steve's courtyard.  His friends took off and so Narc and I headed to &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Cercle Rouge &lt;/span&gt;for dessert.  We had their amazing banoffee pie and the bartender there, an adorable French girl who knows both of us pretty well, took pictures.  In one picture we were kissing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'll put them up on Facebook!" she said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;More potential Facebook drama...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;I was worried that she would tag me in the photos and that TT (&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;who is a Facebook friend of mine) &lt;/span&gt;would see me kissing Narc and just feel crappy.  Thank God it all worked out.  She posted the photos on Narc's wall, but didn't tag any of them.  Phew!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wrote him a beautiful card and I think he finally &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;heard &lt;/span&gt;me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'll save this card forever and ever," he said. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I saw him put it in a drawer of his desk.  Quite a difference from the time he tossed my Valentine's Day card in 2007.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We went to the Tavern before we headed home and then it was beautiful back at his place.  Yeah-- it was kind of a beautiful night.  It's the first birthday of his he has ever chosen to spend with me.  I was angry and resentful and also "sane" at the same time as I was participating in our beautiful illusion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The following week, I was mired down in grading, grading and more grading.  I had one more strange sex night with Narc.  (&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;It was a Wednesday night at 9:00 PM when I arrived, but he was wasted.)  &lt;/span&gt;Things were so&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; (bad? awesome?) &lt;/span&gt;strange that I went into the bathroom and called my sponsor in the middle of it all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"If you can be 100 % giving to him, you can stay," she said.  "But if you can't, you should go, because you're only going to get hurt."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At first, her advice made no sense to me.  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I AM 100% giving, &lt;/span&gt;I thought.  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I basically am doing whatever he wants... am letting him do whatever he wants.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;And then I had a new thought-- that letting him &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;take &lt;/span&gt;from me is not the same as having something to give.  I let him take all the time, but end up resentful, looking to have expectations met, exhausted, depleted, out of control.    Just something I've been thinking about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My sponsor and I met last Friday at the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Hungarian Pastry Shop &lt;/span&gt;and then at &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;St. John the Divine&lt;/span&gt;, and moved through steps two and three.  I had a lot of reading and writing to do around step two and it really felt good.  The only caveat-- now I'm back on Step four.  Yuck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I finally got the grades done for one of the colleges at which I teach.  I went to the NYU graduation at Yankee Stadium to watch my cousin Jol graduate, and I had to grade papers right through Hillary Clinton's speech!  The new Yankee Stadium is weird, by the way.  It felt so clean that it was cartoonish-- like it was a Yankee Stadium built for a faux New York in Las Vegas, or like it was part of Disney's Epcot Center or something...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Friday night B and I went for Filipino food and then to see &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Angels &amp;amp; Demons.  &lt;/span&gt;His wife and the baby are out of town visiting family.  The movie was pretty bad, but in a way that we enjoyed laughing about.  On Saturday I met BigSis for some afternoon shopping and then headed off to &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Radio City &lt;/span&gt;to hear Leonard Cohen perform.  My mom and I went together as we are both big fans.  It was absolutely amazing.  God presence.  And maybe because I've been working so hard to find God in this world and in my life, the music seemed especially pertinent.  I kept hearing over and over man's alienation from God and our efforts to re-find what is holy in interpersonal love or through song.  But the "holy dove" will never be free.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Sunday I sang in a recital that my voice teacher put together-- the first time that I've ever performed a Wagner piece!  I sang &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Einsam in truben Tagen &lt;/span&gt;from &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Lohengrin.  &lt;/span&gt;It was awesome.  I saw Cherubino there for the first time since our "break-up."  It felt good-- like there was something waiting to be rekindled.  I hope that we can keep our friendship strong.  Afterwards, I had a bite to eat with my voice teacher, Cherubino and another guy in the vocal studio.  Then I went down to Tribeca for a double header of &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The Tudors &lt;/span&gt;with Narc.  I am sooooo obsessed with that show.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This morning he left to take a course at some New Age institute in Virginia-- something that will teach him how to see things out of body and make predictions about the stock market or something.  All of that stuff that he thinks about is a little beyond me. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But it's funny-- whenever we're apart he is suddenly very present.  Yet, when he has me, all he does is push me away.  Since he "left town" he texted me several times from the airport and called me once from the campus.  He doesn't have good cell reception there though and I missed the message.  I was watching the ultra-hotness that is Hugh Jackman and Liev Schreiber in &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Wolverine.  &lt;/span&gt;NDN, Tamika and I went to the movies!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And now I'm home, and need to go to bed because I'm tired... and because I have a lot of work to do tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Good night!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;love,&lt;br /&gt;h&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/205223477026391848-5478984081178772774?l=hyde-chaptertwo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hyde-chaptertwo.blogspot.com/feeds/5478984081178772774/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=205223477026391848&amp;postID=5478984081178772774' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/205223477026391848/posts/default/5478984081178772774'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/205223477026391848/posts/default/5478984081178772774'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hyde-chaptertwo.blogspot.com/2009/05/and-so-it-goes.html' title='And so it goes...'/><author><name>Hyde</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://h1.ripway.com/da119/avatarmermaid.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-205223477026391848.post-4411654198212574519</id><published>2009-04-30T09:28:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-30T09:28:51.820-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Cherry Blossom Gray</title><content type='html'>I'm heading out to see the cherry blossoms at the Brooklyn Botanical Gardens today.  But the sky is gray.  And it's only 55-degrees.  I hope I don't regret it.  Rain for the rest of the week.  Ick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-h-&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/205223477026391848-4411654198212574519?l=hyde-chaptertwo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hyde-chaptertwo.blogspot.com/feeds/4411654198212574519/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=205223477026391848&amp;postID=4411654198212574519' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/205223477026391848/posts/default/4411654198212574519'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/205223477026391848/posts/default/4411654198212574519'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hyde-chaptertwo.blogspot.com/2009/04/cherry-blossom-gray.html' title='Cherry Blossom Gray'/><author><name>Hyde</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://h1.ripway.com/da119/avatarmermaid.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-205223477026391848.post-1588259658393716635</id><published>2009-04-22T22:51:00.013-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-24T15:21:31.433-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Perfect on Paper Does Not Equal Perfect</title><content type='html'>&lt;div&gt;Round two with MJ was not a success. Nope... Not so much. I didn't see him for two weeks or so, as he went home for Passover and I went home for another breast surgery, Passover and Easter. That was a nice weekend, despite the fact that it was difficult to cook and manipulate a 20 lb turkey without flexing any chest muscles. In any case, I got to see GoldenFinch and BabyBird and I spent plenty of time with the delicious little Sesame.  Oh-- and my breasts are now restored to perfection.  Yay!  I hope they stay that way.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;The following weekend I suffered a little Narc-related-stress. I received several drunk voice messages followed by crashes and incoherent mutterings on a Friday night and when I hadn't heard back from him by the following evening, I got nervous. I got so nervous that I thought he was dead. I was on the verge of an anxiety attack past midnight on Saturday. I texted his friends and was applying lipstick to head out the door and search for him (&lt;em&gt;yes-- I wear lipstick on all occasions!) &lt;/em&gt;when I finally heard from him. He arrived at my house in a drunken state, issuing many loving and delusional speeches-- so loving and delusional that I can't bear to repeat them. He wants us to live in a house on a river where I can teach and he can write. He wants us to spend every night together again as if it hasn't all been broken. Enough said...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Anyway, the weekend after that I finally had date number two with MJ. He took me to &lt;em&gt;the Firebird-- &lt;/em&gt;a fancy 19th century style Russian place where he said we could "pretend to be Romanovs."  I was looking forward to it.  I knew that I hadn't felt any sparks on the first date, but I was willing to give it a second try.  Dinner was delicious and waaay too expensive.  I felt guilty that he spent so much money on me.  I arrived late and in a flood of apologies laughed that he had now seen one of my "character defects."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"I don't see any flaws," he said.  "You seem perfect to me."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Up onto a pedestal I went.  I don't like the view from there.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;He ordered us a caviar course.  I don't usually eat caviar.  I was in a red dress with a plunging neckline and four-inch heels. I felt a little silly.  I ate chicken Kiev for my main course.  We talked a lot about our families over dinner.  I told him about my mermaid-obsession.  I wouldn't mind being friends with him, but he still seemed too meek-mannered and something was just "off" about our dynamic.  I felt too powerful-- as if I might bowl him over with the sheer force of my personality.  It made me feel clumsy somehow.  Again-- I didn't like it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After dinner, we walked down the block to "Don't Tell Mama's"-- the renowned theater district piano bar. There were no tables available in the main room, so we sat in a lounge off the main entrance until our table would be ready.  I went to procure us some diet cokes.  When I came back, he was still looking at me with that dreamy, strange look on his face- as if he wanted something from me that I couldn't deliver.  I decided to probe a little further.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Do you have a wild side?" I asked.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"I don't really know what you mean by that."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"You know-- that little spark that gets lit up-- for me it's a nocturnal thing."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I didn't know how to articulate it.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"I've been known to have a few drinks, if that's what you mean," he said.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;That's not what I meant.  We were on different wave-lengths.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He told me that he had died his hair green once in high school.  I laughed and asked if he had used "Manic Panic."  And he told me that he had a self-mutilating phase.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"What?  You did???"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Hasn't everyone?" he said, in that same quiet, somber tone.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Um... I guess."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He suddenly seemed very sad to me.  I told him so.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm not sad.  I'm quite happy," he said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;But I didn't believe him.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;After a period of silence, he tried to fill in the gap.  Clearly, he felt awkward.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"My mind is a blank," he told me.  "You make me nervous."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Really?  I thought that the silence just meant we were both content."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"You're a very intimidating woman, Hyde."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"I am?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I don't want to be an intimidating woman.  I want a boy with that spark.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;In any case, we &lt;em&gt;finally &lt;/em&gt;were seated in the main room, right up close near the pianist.  I thought the pianist was cute, but he had the same first name at Narc, which somehow made me feel sad, frustrated and mad at myself all at the same time.  MJ tried to take my hand.  It lay there like a limp fish.  I clearly felt awkward.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"I love your hands," he said, as if needing an explanation for his move.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Thanks."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We resumed watching the &lt;em&gt;very &lt;/em&gt;mediocre performance unfolding on the small platform stage in front of us.  It was an open-mic night, so I untangled myself from the uncomfortable hand-hold and requested a song-- &lt;em&gt;Can't Help Lovin' Dat Man of Mine-- &lt;/em&gt;a safe and sturdy choice for me.  The pianist played about three keys too low, but it was fine.  I tried not to look at MJ while I sang, but I caught his eye once or twice all the same.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;At around 1:00 AM, I yawned and told him that I wanted to head home.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'll take a cab," I told him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'll ride with you!" he volunteered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Aren't you going to Brooklyn?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Yeah, but we can make two stops."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I moved to the farthest corner of the cab.  The bag of leftover food perched on the middle seat between us.  He placed it onto the floor and took my hand again.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Your office is near here, right?" I said, distracting myself from the feeling that I had been invaded.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then something awful happened.  He awkwardly lifted himself off the seat and came towards me in what seemed like slow motion.  It was an obligatory kiss.  I didn't want to be kissing him.  I felt like he was playing out his own script and I wasn't event here.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"I had to do that," he said.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hated it, but smiled.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As luck would have it, he did it again before the cab pulled up to my corner.  I just wanted to get out of the car.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Can I call you to go out again?" he asked.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Oh- um, yeah...sure! Call me tomorrow. Thanks for dinner!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I raced out of there, tottering along the uneven sidewalk in my super-high-heels.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;TT had texted me earlier in the evening that he was at Cheers.  He works in television and had gotten a hold of several extra-large Elvis poster-boards.  They were being held in the Cheers basement.  He asked if I wanted to come by and pick them up.  I just wanted to see a familiar face, to be defined by a familiar gaze to restore normalcy.  He was tipsy when I arrived, but his face lit up to see me.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hyde!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I need a hug," I whined.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"What's wrong?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"I don't know.  I'm an asshole.  I just feel like an asshole," I said.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I was confused and felt guilty and disappointed and somehow robbed of myself all at once.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;He locked me into an embrace.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"You're not an asshole," he said.  "You're Hyde, my friend and a very special woman."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Thanks."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Do you mind if I ask what happened?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"I don't know... I was on a date... I didn't want to be on the date at some point.  I mean, I did, but I didn't want to be kissed. And somehow, I kissed him anyway.  I just feel guilty and terrible and like I'm making mistakes left and right."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;TT seemed surprised that I was dating.  He decided to make his play.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"You know how I feel about you," he said.  "I could fall in love with you so easily... so easily.  I would love to take you on a proper date.  I think we could have something really real between us."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I just looked at him.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I don't want to confuse you any more," he went on.  "But I don't want to miss my chance either. Do you want to go outside and talk about it?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We went out into the streetlight. I was still standing with my hands around his neck.  He continued to make his case.  I didn't know what to do or say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"We're both in a different place than we were years ago... better places.  I mean, I know how much you've changed.  I thought you were great then and I think you're great now.  I just want to keep you safe," he said.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I didn't know how to respond, so I kissed him.  Then I kissed him again.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"What do you think, Hyde?"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"I don't know.  I need some time to clear my head.  Just give me a call tomorrow."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;He went into the bar to get me my Elvis pictures and then walked me home.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I couldn't sleep a wink that night.  A third of my brain wondered where Narc was and what he was doing.  The next morning I had to be up early for a follow-up with the plastic surgeon on Long Island.  I was unbearably tired.  When I got back to the city, I fell asleep for a three hour nap.  Upon awakening, I had two voice mails-- one from MJ and one from TT.  Guess I set that one up.  I didn't bother to answer either of them.  Instead, I got dressed to meet my friend Drew in Tribeca for dinner and an "Annie Sing-Along"  at the new branch of the 92nd street Y on Hudson Street.  Narc had sent me a text so I stopped off to see him for a drink before finding Drew, as I was meeting her in his neighborhood.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"I wish it didn't have to be this way between us," I said.  I was bursting with wanting to tell him things that there is no point in telling.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"I just don't know if you and I are in the cards," he replied.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Yes, you do.  We're &lt;em&gt;not &lt;/em&gt;in the cards."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"I don't know, Hyde... That's all in the future."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The future is where I'm trying to go."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was glad to get away from him and to have a nice girls chat with Drew over a big bowl of pasta.  The Annie Sing-Along was great as well-- just what I needed.  I sang and danced in the street on my way back to Narc's that night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;By the next day, I had received another text message from MJ and several from TT. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;I'm getting nervous.  I must have really freaked you out, &lt;/em&gt;TT wrote.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I called him back right before my Sunday night AA meeting.  I tried to be truthful.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"I'm not entirely over that other guy," I said (&lt;em&gt;Narc, of course). &lt;/em&gt;"And I don't know what you expect from me by 'going on a proper date.'  I don't want to drag you on an emotional roller-coaster with me when I don't know what I want."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"I'm willing to take the risk," he said.  "I don't want to lose my chance.  I'd rather you take &lt;em&gt;me &lt;/em&gt;on that roller coaster than some other guy."&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Give me a few days to think about all of this," I said.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Narc was supposed to come to my place after AA.  We had spent the morning looking for his favorite ducks at Battery Park and had agreed to meet up later.  However, when I texted him about it, he told me that he was going for drinks with CouchSleeper and the boys, as Couchy had just come back from Ireland.  I felt blown off and powerless.  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Here's how it went down:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Hyde: &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Are you blowing me off? Our plan was for 9-ish&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Narc: &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Was just going out for a little bit, really want to see Couchy, can still meet you later, though how late are you up?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Hyde: &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;I don't want to wait up for you.  I don't like the feeling.  I'll just see you some other time.  But seriously, I thought we had plans...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;At that point he called me and I told him only to come if he could come before 11:00 PM.  He agreed.  In the meanwhile, I went down to NDN and Tamika's apartment and ate dinner with them and NDN's friend, RDN.  They made fettuccine with clam sauce and NDN's famous garlic bread.  Yum.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;At 11:00 PM, not having heard from him, I sent him another text: &lt;em&gt;?? On your way?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;No response.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Hyde &lt;/strong&gt;(11:22): &lt;em&gt;You are inconsiderate of me.  I hate being treated this way&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Narc &lt;/strong&gt;(11:32): &lt;em&gt;I was just heading off!!  Taking forever to get check, figuring it out...  If you're to bed soon though I can just head home, get up early and run&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Hyde: &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;You were supposed to be here before 11&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Narc: &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;I know I know, was trying to get out.  Leaving in few but think I'll just go home.  Closer and really want to get up and run etc.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Hyde: &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Just leave me alone.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Narc: &lt;/strong&gt;(11:53) &lt;em&gt;Heading off.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;On Monday, after therapy I set off to babysit Sesame.  In the middle of our playtime, I got another message from MJ. (&lt;em&gt;He had also sent me an email at some point over the weekend.)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;MJ:&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;em&gt;Hey Hyde, Are you having a good Monday?  Everything go ok at the doctor and at Annie?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;I took a while before answering, but I finally wrote back: &lt;em&gt;Weekend was good.  Hope yours was too!  Had a great time &amp;amp; we def have a lot in common.  But I'm just not feeling the right connection as far as a relationship.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;MJ:&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;em&gt;That's terrible!  Mind if I ask what u don't see in me?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't answer.  About an hour later, I got another text from him:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;em&gt;Sorry, better you don't answer I guess.  U seemed perfect to me and my soul felt like it died at your text.  I wish you had given me a chance to not be nervous with you.  I'm sorry.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;All I can say is-- HIGH DRAMA!  It never would have worked out.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meanwhile, Narc and I hadn't spoken all day.  On Tuesday morning I noticed that he posted on his facebook page that he was planning to see a movie that afternoon that we had agreed to see together.  So, I left him a comment-- "Weren't you going to wait for me?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Thought you had 'Idol night' with NDN and Tamika, " he responded.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Whatever..." I wrote.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Then our little tiff shifted to text.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Narc: &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;If you really want to see Anvil I will wait, just didn't think I was going to see you for a week or what not.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Hyde: &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;I just feel like we said we were going to see it and you are just going to blow me off again.  It makes me feel rotten and sad and not worth much to you.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Narc: &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;I said I wanted to see it in the next couple of days, and that was several days ago.  I know you're always into scheduling and planning everything out, etc. but sometimes I feel like being spontaneous and just going to see a movie.  If you want to see it, when are you free next?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Hyde: &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Do what you will.  I am too upset to attempt to figure this out.  My feelings were really hurt on Sunday and you never apologized. We are on different planets.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;When I got home that afternoon, I had a lengthy email from him:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;So let me see if I understand this... I told you I was going to see you on Sunday, and I was. My impression was that you, after AA (around 8:30), were heading home to, I don't know, "do other stuff / mellow out / relax / whatever", and that you weren't expecting me until a bit later, like 10-ish. If I'd known you were expecting me IMMEDIATELY after AA, at 8:30, I would have gone straight from M's place to yours, as it was only 15 blocks straight up. But, because we wrapped early at M's, and I thought I had about an hour to kill, and because CouchSleeper, one of my best friends, had just gotten back into town after SIX MONTHS away and wanted to see Mike and myself a for a little bit, I thought I would see him, and then go to see you. We all met, I iterated right up front that I couldn't stay out long because I was heading off to see you around 10, and CouchSleeper said that was fine, as he was jetlagged all to hell and didn't want to be out for more than an hour or so anyway. So we had a couple of pints, and attempted to get our check (which happened rather slower than I would've thought, but still, we finally got it), and off I was, about to head to you, when--&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; And let me see if I have this now...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; You. Hyde. Hyde -----------.  Gave me grief. Because... I was: "late".&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; You. Really. Of all the people in the world. Were upset... Because, though I kept my plans with you (despite the fact that everyone ended up trying to keep me out later anyway), I ended up running 45 minutes over. Seriously. You. Upset at me. For being late.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; You see where I'm going with this? Because really--&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; That. Is. So. Fucking. Funny.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Tell you what Hyde--from now on, I'll just stop talking to you every time you're late, and we'll see how far we get with all that. What do you say? Given the fact that you run anywhere from 30 to 90 minutes late EVERY SINGLE TIME I see you, I'm thinking we're looking at a lot of "Leave me alone, don't talk to me" responses from me from now on.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Sound good?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Narc&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;I guess I pissed him off.  So I wrote back:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Oh, Narc...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; I don't want to be in a fight with you.  I hope you don't want to stay mad at me.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I wasn't mad because you were late.  I was upset because I felt rejected &amp;amp; blown off.  A simple "I'm sorry" would probably have made me feel better.  I just felt dispensable and taken for granted.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;In any case-- I'm sorry if I overreacted, but maybe I'm just sensitive in general when it comes to our relationship.  It's hard to deal with the toxic feelings of mistrust and rejection that I shove down all the time.  I know that I either need to find a way to live with these feelings or cut things off with you.  I go over and over this issue in my mind and it always runs in the same circle.  I feel like shit, and so much of what has happened is emotionally unbearable for me, but I love you and want you somehow in my life.  So, I'm trying to bear it.  I'm still trying to live with these feelings but it hurts and yes-- probably makes me overly sensitive.  I hope you can understand all of that and act with some compassion and largess towards me when these things arise.  This had nothing to do with lateness.  It had to do with the fact that I feel rejected by you, who I love so very much. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;It is what it is.  You are who you are and I am who I am.  Let's just let it go.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(136, 136, 136);"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;h &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And finally from him:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I'm sorry. I'm sure I overreacted as well--I'm just sick and tired of all the drama, and am, really, looking for a drama-free life at this point (or at least as much as I can manage). Am sure we can probably put this behind us. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Narc&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="font-style: italic;"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;Later that night he sent me a text: &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Haven't watched Tudors yet if you want to watch it together.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Hyde: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Yes, want to watch it with you.  Just got home and am making spaghetti.  Got your mail.  Sorry I bring drama.  I also bring love. Love you...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;I ended up staying at his place that night and we made vague plans to go see "Anvil" (the movie) on Thursday.  There were two shows-- an 11:00 AM and a 1:00 PM.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Needless to say, when I called him Wednesday night to figure out the details, I couldn't get a hold of him.  Then all day on Thursday he didn't answer any of my calls or texts until 5:00 PM when he wrote:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Hey, just got up little while ago.,  Couldn't get to sleep until  like 6 AM!  Then slept in all day...Ugh...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think it's complete and utter bullshit.  I haven't spoken to him since but I really am so sick of this.  I'm sick of boys in general.  I want to give dating a rest for a little while and just do something else-- my school work, for example.  And I want to start painting again.  The only time I ever &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;truly &lt;/span&gt;feel like myself is the one hour a week in my voice lesson.  I want to make that bigger.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did have a nice day yesterday even with Narc blowing me off.  I met Pixie in the afternoon and we walked through Central Park and I ate a snowcone and declared that the statue of Robert Burns was my boyfriend.  She said she prefers Walter Scott across the way.  We watched "Thoth" singing under the bridge by the fountain.  He has some new female protege.  Afterwards I met Drew and we went to the gym, to our AA meeting and then all of us out to the diner.  We ended up sitting with that guy I sort of dated last summer from my home group (&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;although it was really more like a series of "non-dates.")  &lt;/span&gt;He said that he wants to memorize the last speech given by Archbishop Romero of El Salvador, in Spanish, and recite it at the next AA talent show.  I love being surrounded by interesting people.  For a brief moment, I really appreciated my life-- here... in NY City... young and energetic and financially secure and totally free.  I have complete freedom.  I'm lucky that way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the meanwhile, I got another email from MJ:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I saw this and thought of you.  I guess I should stop that. :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a style="font-style: italic;" href="http://www.nyaquarium.com/this-season-at-the-zoo/events-calendar/mermaids-of-the-deep.aspx" target="_blank"&gt;http://www.nyaquarium.com/&lt;wbr&gt;this-season-at-the-zoo/events-&lt;wbr&gt;calendar/mermaids-of-the-deep.&lt;wbr&gt;aspx&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I decided to answer:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I'm going to be in Vermont that weekend.  No mermaid parade for me, I guess!  :(  Didn't mean to make you feel bad.  Don't know what else to say about all that, so I'll leave it at that.  Hope you're having a good day.&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;h&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;And then I got what I think is a very strange response-- an email to which I gave no reply.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I've been to the Mermaid Parade once, but I was told the one I saw had&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;less nudity than the previous year, so I was disappointed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; I don't begrudge you your cruelty.  It helps balance out wicked things&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I've done in the past.  Eventually, when I suffer enough, I'll reach&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;some sort of peaceful equilibrium.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; On that note, I'm working from home today because I have a doctor's&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;appointment.  I have these antibodies that often accompany auto-immune&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; disease, so I have to monitor them closely.  It's all part of the same&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; plan.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Hope you're having a good day as well.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, this weekend a major event is taking place-- NDN and Tamika are tying the knot in Philadelphia!  My parents are invited to the wedding, so they're picking me up tomorrow afternoon and driving there.  I'm excited to wear my Nicole Miller gown.  I'm even more excited to see them bring in this next phase of life.  It's really kind of amazing.  And I'm &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;soooo &lt;/span&gt;grateful and relieved that NDN picked an awesome girl like Tamika.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So... that's it for now.  I'm exhausted from re-hashing all of the garbage that went into this post.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hope you are all well out there!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;love,&lt;br /&gt;h&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/205223477026391848-1588259658393716635?l=hyde-chaptertwo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hyde-chaptertwo.blogspot.com/feeds/1588259658393716635/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=205223477026391848&amp;postID=1588259658393716635' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/205223477026391848/posts/default/1588259658393716635'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/205223477026391848/posts/default/1588259658393716635'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hyde-chaptertwo.blogspot.com/2009/04/perfect-on-paper-does-not-equal-perfect.html' title='Perfect on Paper Does Not Equal Perfect'/><author><name>Hyde</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://h1.ripway.com/da119/avatarmermaid.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-205223477026391848.post-6645682515016161278</id><published>2009-04-07T11:40:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-07T12:20:47.742-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Meeting MJ</title><content type='html'>It has been a busy few weeks around here.  B and his wife asked me to be Godmother to their daughter.  I am so honored that I am without words.  Some kind of real healing has truly taken place.  The baptism is coming up on Saturday.  I bought her a beautiful gold locket.  yay!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Friday afternoon, despite the rain, I kept my appointment to have a Brazilian Keratin treatment on my hair.  They instructed me that I could not get my hair wet, clip it, put it in a ponytail or even tuck it behind my ears for four days!  I finally get to wash it tonight.  I also had to endure some gynecological torture before meeting Hammer, the Alaskan and their friends at synagogue that night.  The Alaskan has been working for about two years towards his conversion to Judaism before their wedding in June.  The ceremony took place on Friday.  He made such a beautiful speech.  I was really quite moved.  Afterwards, Hammer hosted a little dinner party at their apartment.  I got to meet some of their new friends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In other news, I finally had the date with "perfect on paper," from now on to be known as "MJ."  When I posted last, we were supposed to go out that night, but he got sick and had to cancel.  We rescheduled for Saturday.  I spent most of the afternoon hanging out with NDN.  We went to Bloomingdale's where I sugar-crashed a little bit on Forty Carrots frozen yogurt and NDN had his makeup done at the &lt;em&gt;Lancome&lt;/em&gt; Counter.  He is into being a rocker these days, &lt;em&gt;a la&lt;/em&gt; Adam Lambert.  Back at my place, we took topless pictures of him making love to my plastic Guitar Hero guitar and a dagger that I brought back from Russia while I got ready for my date.  I tried to ignore the gnawing Narc-anxiety present since I hadn't heard from him on Friday night.  I need to just assume that he is doing the worst of what I fear at all times, since it's not in my control anyway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MJ and I met at "Kefi" on the Upper West Side at 6:45.  I had to set the date early, as Contessa's housewarming party was later on in the evening.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(&lt;strong&gt;HYDE&lt;/strong&gt;: &lt;em&gt;If you wanted to, we could have dinner on Sat and you could come with me to the party, but that might be kind of weird for a first date.  What do you think?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;MJ&lt;/strong&gt;:&lt;em&gt; I think we need more context to determine how weird that would be.  How about we do dinner on Saturday and then decide whether I accompany you further?)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't want to turn this date into something blog-dissected, but the bottom line is that we got along really well.  He is very, very, &lt;em&gt;VERY &lt;/em&gt;impressively smart; he is randomly interested in all things Russian (&lt;em&gt;as am I-- we were even both in St. Petersburg the same summer in college&lt;/em&gt;) and he was kind and chivalrous and I felt comfortable with him.  He is also responsible (&lt;em&gt;as in he has a good job and lives like an adult&lt;/em&gt;), he's close with his family, and he nurtures his spiritual/religious side.  I'm not 100% sure that the chemistry is there, but I think I need to give it a little more time before I can tell.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since dinner went so well we decided it was best for him to continue on and accompany me to the party.  We looked for a homeless person to donate our delicious dinner leftovers and he treated to a cab up to Inwood.  As Contessa is an architect and her husband is a composer, the party was full of interesting artistic types.  I barely knew anyone there, but in a way it was better that way.  When we first arrived, I had to use the restroom and when I came out, MJ was talking to two strangers.  I thought that was a good sign--that he is comfortable in his own skin.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  At one point, a choreographer asked if we had known each other long.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Um, no... we just met," I said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"How wonderful!  You are still discovering each other!" she declared.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; Also-- I told him I don't drink, although I didn't explain why (&lt;em&gt;he didn't ask&lt;/em&gt;), and he didn't have a single drink the whole night.  It was very sweet and respectful and wouldn't you know-- there &lt;em&gt;are &lt;/em&gt;people who can comfortably socialize with strangers and on a first date without alcohol!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We stayed at the party until well after midnight.  In the cab on the way home, he asked me to sing something in French and held my hand.  I was grateful that he didn't try to kiss me.  I think that at this point in my life, I need to develop friendships first in dating.  I can't deal with much more than that right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, it was all great.  The only problem is that he's not really my "type" (&lt;em&gt;which may be a good thing, given the guys that my  "picker" has picked for me&lt;/em&gt;).  It may never click though, and I don't want to force it either.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later that night &lt;em&gt;(at around 1:00 AM),&lt;/em&gt; as luck would have it, just as I had put Narc momentarily out of my mind, he called.  I went.  He was at "Edwards" reading Tarot for his friend Miranda.  I had met her a few times and said my hello's just as she was saying her goodbye's.  He was in "I love you mode," making out with me, groping me at the bar, and all that.  I felt conflicted and strange, but blissfully obliterated in the black hole of him-- a place from where I need not deal with anything else or anything &lt;em&gt;real.  &lt;/em&gt;We were up until 5:00 in the morning. It was one of those nights I wait for-- the ones that make it worth tolerating all of the other crap.  (&lt;em&gt;Well, sort of...)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Sunday I stayed with him and we watched "Forgetting Sarah Marshall."  At around 3:30 we took a walk to Battery Park to look at his favorite ducks.  It seems that they haven't yet arrived for the season.  I had to leave to meet Sugary for book-work and a meeting at 5:00, but I went back to Narc's at 9:00, still in my date jeans and tight lacy top from the night before.  Ug.  In some ways I totally suck.  My sponsor calls it "powerlessness."  I have to agree...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;MJ sent me an email:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I wanted to tell you that it was well worth the wait to finally meet you.  You seem like an amazing person.  To quote the choreographer from last night, I hope you'll allow me the opportunity to continue"discovering" you&lt;/em&gt;, he said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday I babysat for Sesame again.  She is just a delight and a doll.  When the rain cleared I took her for a stroll on Austin Street and we stopped in at Victoria's Secret.  Some pushy saleswoman kept asking me what kind of bra I wanted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm just looking," I said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Can I measure you?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm alright.  I'm just looking."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Alright.  Are you nursing?" she asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No!"  I looked at her as if she were an idiot and walked away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was only moments later that I realized that she asked me that because I was with a six month old.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Oh no!  &lt;/em&gt;I thought.  &lt;em&gt;She probably thinks I'm the kind of mom who doesn't nurse.  I WOULD nurse if she were mine!  &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wanted to go back and explain it to her, but then I laughed at myself and decided not to bother.  I did end up getting measured, was very surprised at the size, became convinced that I should take advantage of their sales, and so, I bought some very sexy lingerie.  woo hoo!!!  (&lt;em&gt;Not that there's anyone in particular to share it with, but whatever...&lt;/em&gt;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway-- this week is busy-- I've got Passover and Easter and the christening.  I hope you are all well out there.  Off to teach another class in a few minutes. World War II is about to begin...!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;love,&lt;br /&gt;h&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/205223477026391848-6645682515016161278?l=hyde-chaptertwo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hyde-chaptertwo.blogspot.com/feeds/6645682515016161278/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=205223477026391848&amp;postID=6645682515016161278' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/205223477026391848/posts/default/6645682515016161278'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/205223477026391848/posts/default/6645682515016161278'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hyde-chaptertwo.blogspot.com/2009/04/meeting-mj.html' title='Meeting MJ'/><author><name>Hyde</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://h1.ripway.com/da119/avatarmermaid.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-205223477026391848.post-1669545255378911552</id><published>2009-03-24T11:24:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-24T11:55:09.449-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Puerto Rico &amp; Puffery</title><content type='html'>I'm back from Puerto Rico!  It was a great trip-- the sunsets were amazing; it was wonderful to be with my family; Meema was easy going and fit in well with the whole crazy lot of us. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My parents like to travel off the beaten path and several years ago, fell in love with a surfer town on the Caribbean West Coast of Puerto Rico-- Rincon.  My mom is always talking about buying some real estate there.  (&lt;em&gt;If any of you have read my blog from the beginning, you may recall that I was there in &lt;/em&gt;&lt;a href="http://ihavetohydethis.blogspot.com/2005/01/new-year.html"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Jan. 2005 &lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;with my family and Hammer&lt;/em&gt;).  I think I was a little nervous about going back to the same place, given that the last time I was there, I was in the throes of alcoholic misery.  But I had nothing to fear.  All in all- it was a very successful vacation! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meema and I decided that we wanted to get tattoos together, but the town was so small that they didn't have a tattoo parlor.  We drove up to the Atlantic Coast on Thursday and found a tattoo place there, but couldn't get inked because to do so would have meant staying out of the ocean on our last day.  (&lt;em&gt;Sigh&lt;/em&gt;.)  I guess we'll have to go together somewhere here in NY and maybe just pretend that our tattoos are Puerto Rican.  In any case,  I wore my bikini and felt good about it; I ate coconut (&lt;em&gt;always a favorite activity of mine&lt;/em&gt;); I drove a jet ski and I went horseback riding on the beach.  So perfect. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;NYC was somehow so gray when I returned.  (&lt;em&gt;Has it always been this gray?&lt;/em&gt;) &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will try to post some pictures here in another day or two.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In any case, it was also nice to have a week away from Narc and dating and teaching and all the rest.  He texted me a few times while he was gone about some horrendous case of pink eye, but I tried not to let it make me stressed.  We talked on the phone once and he told me that he loves that new VH1 show "Tough Love" due to his misogynist streak.  (&lt;em&gt;Yes, he actually said that&lt;/em&gt;).  He likes to see the women "put in their place, for once."  I tried watching an episode when I got back to NY but found myself nauseated.  I've decided not to become a viewer. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But worse than that, my friend Drew is going through a personal crisis and texted me every two minutes about some drama that she decided to increasingly complicate with her every decision, taking none of my advice.  I am really frustrated with the whole thing because I"m worried about her and she doesn't seem to want to help herself.  There's nothing more I can do except to ask her to meet me at a meeting.  I spoke to my sponsor (&lt;em&gt;Sugary&lt;/em&gt;) about it and felt a little better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Saturday, when I returned, NDN and Tamika and I went out for NV's birthday and then down to the village to another birthday party.  They taught me a new word: "PUFFERY."  I like it.  (&lt;em&gt;It reminded me of Narc, but they explained that it usually applies to the claims of commerical enterprises.  For example, see "&lt;/em&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.custys.com/"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Custy's World Famous International Buffet&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt;.&lt;/em&gt;")  I am going to try to find ways to incorporate the word into more daily use.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm trying to recommit myself to AA these days, as I have had several mounting resentments about stupid things.  Sugary and I are going to start meeting regularly on Sundays.  Also, I have been listening to Joe &amp;amp; Charlie and I love their calming voices. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The week before I left for Puerto Rico, Narc came up to my place drunk and told me all sorts of ridiculous thing-- that I am "better than a fairy tale" to him, his "one true love," his "goddess," "better than any novel," etc.  I think it's really unfair of him to keep doing this to me, although I know that by allowing it I'm really doing it to myself.  I asked him the next day if he really meant it or if he was just drunk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"A little of both," he said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"So, you &lt;em&gt;do &lt;/em&gt;love me?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Of &lt;em&gt;course &lt;/em&gt;I love you!" he said.  "Like I haven't loved anyone.  But who knows about the things I say when I'm drunk.  You remember how it is-- none of it counts."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;oh yeah...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm trying to forget all about that because I have a date on Thursday with a co-worker of my friend Jake.  (&lt;em&gt;I think I already told you all that in my previous post&lt;/em&gt;).  I'm excited about it and nervous, because he's so "perfect on paper," but at the same time, I'm already starting to write him off because he's such a "nice guy."  Why do I &lt;em&gt;DO &lt;/em&gt;that?  I really want to control myself and give this guy a chance.  He has called me a few times, including to welcome me back from Puerto Rico-- he doesn't play games.  Then again, I haven't even met him yet.  He could be awfully unattractive, in which case all of this speculation and all of these nerves are pointless.  I'm going to get my roots done before the date, anyway.  All of that sunshine oxidized my hair and turned it redder.  I want to go more blond.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I suppose that's it for now.  I babysat for Sesame again yesterday.  She is so beautiful and delicious and I just love her so, so, so, so much!!  I love how she loves me, too.  She is always excited to see me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It still feels like winter today.  When is spring coming?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;love,&lt;br /&gt;Hyde-- the world's most fabulous blogger.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/205223477026391848-1669545255378911552?l=hyde-chaptertwo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hyde-chaptertwo.blogspot.com/feeds/1669545255378911552/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=205223477026391848&amp;postID=1669545255378911552' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/205223477026391848/posts/default/1669545255378911552'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/205223477026391848/posts/default/1669545255378911552'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hyde-chaptertwo.blogspot.com/2009/03/puerto-rico-puffery.html' title='Puerto Rico &amp; Puffery'/><author><name>Hyde</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://h1.ripway.com/da119/avatarmermaid.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-205223477026391848.post-7521459156101451531</id><published>2009-03-14T21:35:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-14T21:41:18.941-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Getting the Hell Out of Dodge! (via "Idlewild")</title><content type='html'>I'm getting ready to head to Puerto Rico with my family!  My mom booked a ridiculous flight.  We're all meeting at JFK at 4:30 AM.  I'm just gonna stay up straight through.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to the hardware store to pick up a plastic squirt bottle for my hair gel.  The guy who works there always flirts with me.  He sold me a bar of soap by likening me to Cleopatra. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Caeser will fall to his knees!" he said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He says he's from the Dominican Republic, but I think he was an Egyptian in a former life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never wrote back to BottleRocket.  I decided his email was a little gross and not worth my time.  Jake is setting me up with a colleague of his, though, and I think there's some potential there.  I saw Narc again.  I love him and hate him and love him and hate him.  I so have to break this stupid cycle...this stupid, stupid addiction.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I started reading "Variety of Religious Experiences" by William James and I downloaded the Joe &amp;amp; Charlie tapes.  A girl can only do so much. Despite my attempts at spiritual growth, I'm still listening to Carousel and with half of my heart, seriously asking "What's the Use of Wondering?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway... I have to go finish packing, shower and then maybe hit the piano bars. The St. Patty's Day drinkers are out early.  Gross.  I've always hated people who drink on St. Patrick's Day-- even when I was a drunk myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll be wearing my first bikini on the beach in another day or two.  It's hot pink.  Wish me luck!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;h&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/205223477026391848-7521459156101451531?l=hyde-chaptertwo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hyde-chaptertwo.blogspot.com/feeds/7521459156101451531/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=205223477026391848&amp;postID=7521459156101451531' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/205223477026391848/posts/default/7521459156101451531'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/205223477026391848/posts/default/7521459156101451531'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hyde-chaptertwo.blogspot.com/2009/03/getting-hell-out-of-dodge-via-idlewild.html' title='Getting the Hell Out of Dodge! (via &quot;Idlewild&quot;)'/><author><name>Hyde</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://h1.ripway.com/da119/avatarmermaid.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-205223477026391848.post-2268961812000895464</id><published>2009-03-10T20:51:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-10T20:54:31.378-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Howdy</title><content type='html'>In the spirit of TT, I have yet another suitor who likes to say "Howdy." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went on a second date with the guy I had the museum date with.  His name is BottleRocket.  He just sent me an email in which the subject line read "howdy:"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Hey, that was fun the other night. I especially liked talking and walking and thinking on our feet. I think next time, however, we might want to spend a little more time kissing and less time walking and talking. Don't you think?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;-BottleRocket&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Um...what do I do if the answer is "no?"  Does that mean I don't like this guy?  I just don't think I'm ready.  I slept with Narc again-- twice.  God, I need help...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-h-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/205223477026391848-2268961812000895464?l=hyde-chaptertwo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hyde-chaptertwo.blogspot.com/feeds/2268961812000895464/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=205223477026391848&amp;postID=2268961812000895464' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/205223477026391848/posts/default/2268961812000895464'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/205223477026391848/posts/default/2268961812000895464'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hyde-chaptertwo.blogspot.com/2009/03/howdy.html' title='Howdy'/><author><name>Hyde</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://h1.ripway.com/da119/avatarmermaid.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-205223477026391848.post-8499128931716539665</id><published>2009-03-04T09:22:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-03-04T10:13:34.521-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Two steps forward, One step back...</title><content type='html'>Well, I guess I never got around to writing out everything that happened with Cherubino.  The bottom line is that I now have a new sponsor.  Cherubino went through a break-up and stopped attending our home group, going only to meetings in Brooklyn.  For about six months, my program grew completely stagnant, as I only went through the motions. I was angry with her and it was a bad "break-up," but I think with time we will be friends again.  I am going to re-work the steps with my new sponsor, and although transition is never easy for me, I feel like it's a real opportunity to grow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for the rest of it-- I made it 38 days without seeing Narc.  The museum date that I mentioned at the end of the last post ended up being really nice-- the most promising date yet.  However, that freaked me out a little, because, to tell you the truth, I don't think I'm really ready to date.  I'm not sure yet whether it's good for me to push myself or whether pushing myself is just adding more stress and discomfort to my life right now.  In any case, the museum guy wanted to see me again as well, but I ended up with laryngitis last week and couldn't date anyone. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the meanwhile, Narc texted me on Sunday February 22nd.  He said that he missed me and that he didn't know what to do.  I was in an emotional head-space when I got the text, so I wrote back right away that I loved him and that I missed him too and that I was sad that we couldn't be together.  I already wrote about all this in an earlier post.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We ended up texting back and forth all week long.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The following Monday while I was babysitting for Sesame, I sent him a text.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;How was your Oscar party? I&lt;/span&gt; asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A few hours later I got a response:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Just woke up.  Masturbating and thinking of you.  Want to come in your mouth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Well, I didn't know how to reply to that.  So I wrote him something telling him that we couldn't be sexual with each other anymore.  He insisted, trying to get me to call him to have phone sex, and I just didn't answer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Several hours after that (&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;while I was in the Gap with Sesame), &lt;/span&gt;he wrote again asking if I would have dinner with him.  Even though I knew I shouldn't, I found myself in that strange mental blank spot, agreeing to meet him. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Only if I DON'T go back to your apartment and no talking about anything emotional,  &lt;/span&gt;I said-- as if that were possible.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We met at &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Blaue Gans &lt;/span&gt;and it was as if no time had passed.  All the chemistry was still there.  I hugged him and he put his hand on my leg and everything felt so right and I missed him so much.  The bartended smiled to see me and said she hadn't seen me in a while.  I told him I had tried dating.  He told me he had been drinking heavily and not eating because of it.  He had a hole in his pants and was anxious about a particularly bad blackout the night before.  I don't know if he intended to be manipulative, but it certainly pushed all of my mothering buttons.  Before long, I was back in his apartment.  He told me how much he loves me. I said it wasn't enough.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I want to be cherished," I said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'll find a way to show you that I cherish you."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;can't, &lt;/span&gt;Narc.  I want to be with someone who feels &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;lucky &lt;/span&gt;to be with me."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;DO &lt;/span&gt;feel lucky to be with you!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No, you don't."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We talked briefly about the whole cheating thing (&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;which he still denied).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;"Even if you were just flirting and getting phone numbers, that's still not good enough," I said. "That's not what I want."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I guess I wasn't a very good boyfriend," he told me, with a sigh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think that's as close to an admission/apology as I'm ever going to get.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Obviously (&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;as you all know me by now), &lt;/span&gt;I spent the night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next morning I had to wake up at 6:00 AM to get home in time to change and then get to teaching.  He called me in between my classes.  I'm too lazy right now to go through the whole conversation, but the bottom line-- he asked to see me again that night and he asked to borrow $200.  He had blown through his monthly allowance on booze.  For some reason, I agreed.  I called him back a few minutes later to tell him I was uncomfortable lending him the money and he promised to try to borrow it from Mike.  But I reassured him that if he was in a real jam, I'd help him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That night, after AA, he came over.  It was as if nothing had changed.  We cuddled and said "I love you" and watched Obama give his State of the Union address.  I loved sleeping next to him again.  I should have known it was too soon to see him when I'm still so in love with him.  But when we left my place the next morning, he told me that he had been unable to get in touch with Mike.  We walked to an ATM, and I uncomfortably lent him the money.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Thursday I went to meet him at his apartment and after having sex again, we went for dumplings in Chinatown.  I told him that I felt addicted to him and that it was sick and that I felt helpless because I wanted so badly to be moving on.  He seemed sad and said that he loved me and didn't want to not be a part of each other's lives.  We spent the entire afternoon together until I had to leave for AA.  He humored me by shopping for makeup at the MAC counter in Bloomingdale's and watching me try on sundresses at Old Navy. (&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I'm going to Puerto Rico in another week or so...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;On Friday night he came back to my place and spent the night again.  It was the second day I had awful laryngitis and absolutely &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;no &lt;/span&gt;voice and so I couldn't hit the town.  He brought some DVD's and I felt cozy in my pajamas.&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;On Saturday morning he left early, as my mom was coming over to see my new pink walls, to see me try on my new bathing suits (&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;including a bikini- yay!) &lt;/span&gt;and to pick me up to go to the opera.  We saw an &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;amazing &lt;/span&gt;production of &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Il Trovatore &lt;/span&gt;which, for some strange reason, in fifteen years of season's tickets to the opera, I still hadn't seen.  I texted Narc twice that afternoon and he didn't answer me.  I wrote to him again that evening and he didn't answer. I was feeling anxious.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By Sunday the anxiety had overtaken me.  I felt stupid for getting sucked back in.  I felt powerless and was full of self-doubt and feelings of rejection-- exactly where I started when I was pushed into ending it!  How could one simple dinner on Monday night turn into a week of binging on his company, and end with the same feelings of regret and pain and shame and doubt and anxiety?  I had the welcome distraction for most of the afternoon of Tamika's bridal shower.  She looked beautiful and her friends made a really lovely tea party.  But I knew I had to get to a meeting that night, and I'm glad I did. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My new sponsor has a lot of sponsees and they are all welcoming me with open arms.  Many of them were at the Sunday night meeting, and one of my new "sober sisters" and I went for a long walk and chatted about it all.  I also got to talk to my sponsor after the meeting, which helped to calm me down and gave me a sense of direction.  With all of these feelings of powerlessness and "unmanageability," I am exactly where I need to be, re-starting step 1.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Monday night, Narc texted me that he would be over at around 11:00 or maybe later, to pay me back my money.  I was a little pissed off.  I had spent the day grading papers, holed up in the snowstorm, and I hadn't heard from him since he had ignored my texts for the previous two days.  I didn't want to wait up for him while he was out drinking with his friends.  For all I knew, he could have showed up at 3:00 AM and drunk.  And I had to be up at 7:00 AM to teach.  So, I told him that he shouldn't come.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;How about Tuesday night? &lt;/span&gt;he asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I'm busy, &lt;/span&gt;I said.  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;But you can drop the money off tonight or tomorrow at your convenience.  Just leave it with the doorman.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;On Tuesday (&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;yesterday), &lt;/span&gt;he called me in the afternoon and asked if he could come up and see me and drop the money.  I happened to be home, unable to take my voice lesson, due to last week's laryngitis.  I agreed to see him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I felt that same mix of pain, sweetness, love, frustration, anxiety, self-loathing, love and love that I always get and I knew I had to give myself the space to get better.  So, after spending an hour or two together, I told him that I needed at least two months apart from him with &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;no contact. &lt;/span&gt;He was frustrated and pointed out that he would be entirely alone, as he goes days on end without talking to another human being and his only mode of interaction is over Jack Daniels.  He had renewed his resolve to get off of hard liquor because he wants to finish one of his re-writes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Now I'll &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;really &lt;/span&gt;be alone," he said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Again, my buttons were pushed, but I stuck to my guns, only because I can see no other solution.  It was so sad.  I love him so much.  He walked me to the corner of Lexington and waited in the cold until I could get a cab to my meeting.  As the cab pulled away, he waited and waved.  It was unlike him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday was a strange day in other ways as well.  I don't know if you all remember the story about the OldChoirMan-- my choir director from college.  In any case, it's a story that I &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;really&lt;/span&gt; don't care to recount, except to say that he left me pretty emotionally fucked up back then.  I found out, yesterday, that he was just arrested for having a sexual relationship with a 15 year old high school student. He's in jail right now, awaiting bail.  The whole thing makes me feel very sad.  I can't sort through it much more than that.  Sad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sad about that.  Sad about Narc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But here I am, another day, and I did what I had to do to keep myself safe in terms of Narc.  Yes, I spent a week with him, but I haven't forgotten the lessons I've learned and I don't want to end up back where I was.  So-- that's progress, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm looking forward to Puerto Rico.  We're leaving on the 15th.  My whole family is going and Meema is coming along for a few days as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I should go eat breakfast now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;love,&lt;br /&gt;h&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/205223477026391848-8499128931716539665?l=hyde-chaptertwo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hyde-chaptertwo.blogspot.com/feeds/8499128931716539665/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=205223477026391848&amp;postID=8499128931716539665' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/205223477026391848/posts/default/8499128931716539665'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/205223477026391848/posts/default/8499128931716539665'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hyde-chaptertwo.blogspot.com/2009/03/two-steps-forward-one-step-back.html' title='Two steps forward, One step back...'/><author><name>Hyde</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://h1.ripway.com/da119/avatarmermaid.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-205223477026391848.post-6050852779079340998</id><published>2009-02-20T11:23:00.009-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-20T14:30:35.077-05:00</updated><title type='text'>On Dating...</title><content type='html'>So, I've tried to immerse myself in the dating world, given that I am attempting to fully and finally move on from Narc. This is not an easy task, as I am still in love with him and probably will be for quite some time.  That said, how much of myself do I have to emotionally expend to casually date?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I first made the decision to really do it when at my birthday party, Jake's girlfriend offered to set me up with a friend of hers.  She is a total matchmaker.  It's in her blood.  I was mad at Narc, having just fought with him when he left to go drinking with his friends, so I agreed that she could give that guy my phone number.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't think much about it in the following few weeks because I was caught up in my surgery and the holidays and my general anxiety about Narc cheating on me.  As you know, I broke up with him in that horribly sad fight on the morning of New Year's Eve.  I was feeling very weak at the time and feared that my iron count might be low from all of the surgical blood loss.  Plus, I have low iron to begin with and take prescription pills for that.  I had scheduled an appointment to get my blood checked and was sitting in the waiting room of the doctor's office when I heard a woman call my name.  It was Jake's girlfriend.  Even though I had only met her once before and even though I was a teary, bleary mess with hardly a touch of makeup on, she recognized me and came over to say hello.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Did that guy ever call you?" she asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I told her that I hadn't heard from him and I told her about my breakup with Narc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Good riddance to him!  The guy is a loser," she said.  "You deserve so much better!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We talked about her most recent (&lt;em&gt;pre-Jake) &lt;/em&gt;breakup and about how she moved on.  She insisted that plentiful dating was the cure.  She suggested an online profile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh God, that sounds awful," I said.  "I wouldn't know what to write.  I can't stand the idea of packaging and selling myself like that!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Don't worry, I'll help you with it!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was convinced that our paths crossed that afternoon for a reason and I resolved to take new risks and to try to &lt;em&gt;truly &lt;/em&gt;move on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was scared of dating.  In some ways, I still am.  First and foremost, I have never tried dating sober and I couldn't imagine taking my clothes off in front of a stranger without the lubrication of alcohol.  All of my friends laughed at that idea and told me that dating didn't necessarily mean taking my clothes off.  But I guess, being new to dating, my only real experience lies in drunken one-night-stands. What is dating &lt;em&gt;without &lt;/em&gt;taking your clothes off?  Somehow, that idea seemed even &lt;em&gt;scarier &lt;/em&gt;to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In any case, the guy finally emailed me and we set up a coffee date for the first week of January.  The only problem was that in the interim, Narc and I got "back together" and he became my boyfriend.  I kept the date anyway.  That afternoon I was shopping with Anxious, and bought some smoking green eyeshadow at the Mac counter.  I was so nervous to meet this guy, but when I arrived, I realized that all my fears were unfounded.  He was just some nerdy, nice, smart guy.  I was afraid of being judged, of not being pretty enough, of not knowing what to say... But I ended up feeling pretty gorgeous and smart and felt for the first time that I have choice.  I think my old M-O was to wait for someone to show interest in me and then to just take that person hostage.  I &lt;em&gt;so &lt;/em&gt;don't need to do that anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, the date was fine, but there a was no real chemistry.  Besides, I was back with Narc and felt guilty for even meeting this guy.  I tucked it away as a neat little reference point for future dating and I moved on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Narc and I remained officially "together" for another two weeks.  After the second breakup I was devastated and could hardly breathe.  As much as I was bolstered by my good friends and family, withdrawal from him was sharp and painful and I could hardly bear it.  I texted Jake about my awful withdrawal pains and asked if I could meet with him and his girlfriend for the help she promised setting up an online profile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, we met the following week after a Thursday night AA meeting at a little cafe on the Upper East Side.  I really like her (&lt;em&gt;I should probably give her a proper blog-name.  How about Shadkhen!).  &lt;/em&gt;After dinner and conversation, the three of us went back to Jake's place to work on my profile.  She wrote something cute and breezy that didn't sound at all like me, and pulled some pictures off of my facebook page.  Then, it was just a matter of waiting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well, there are plenty of guys looking for love, that's for sure.  Many of the men who have contacted me are just not to my liking.  But there was one guy who seemed cute enough and also interesting.  He works in equities, but also plays bass in a band.  I thought it was an okay balance.  We emailed back and forth a bit via the website before he sent me his phone number and asked me to call him.  I was a little annoyed at being asked to take the initiative (&lt;em&gt;I want to be courted, for god's sake!) &lt;/em&gt;but I sucked it up and made the phone call.  We played phone tag for another day before I finally got a hold of him while I was at my parents house on Long Island.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He had a sexy voice, which is very important to me, and seemed nice enough, but it was the most awkward conversation I've ever had in my entire life.  It was so artificial and weird. In any case, we set up a coffee date for the following Thursday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I met him not far from Union Square and we had a quick lunch.  Everything that came out of my mouth seemed to impressive him.  Well-- whether or not he meant it, he kept on remarking about how "impressive" I am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;If I'm impressing you so much, you must not be smart enough for me, &lt;/em&gt;I thought.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I realize that I have to be careful though.  I'm one of those people who doesn't want to be a member of any club that would accept me as a member.  A sign of low self-esteem?  Probably.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a nice lunch.  I wasn't totally feeling him, but I wasn't sure if that were due to lack of chemistry or due to my total emotional confusion.  I just have a really rusty radar and I'm not used to trusting it.  He said that he wanted to see me again, and right away.  He asked if I were free for dinner that night.  I agreed to meet him for a quick bite.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From there, I was off to get my roots colored.  I was so unsettled by the experience of a date with someone other than Narc, that I freaked out and told them to make me a blond. (&lt;em&gt;My hair was a dark brownish-red).  &lt;/em&gt;About halfway through the bleaching process I freaked out again and told them to keep it red, but a blondish red.  It actually turned out really pretty.  It's a reddish strawberry blond now.  I might go blonder this summer, but I'm not sure.  There's something about going blond following a boob-job that just doesn't sit right with me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I went to AA after getting my hair colored and then back downtown to meet him at a little cafe in the West Village called &lt;em&gt;La Lanterna. &lt;/em&gt;Our conversation over dinner was fine-- passable, I guess.  But I was still having a really hard time sorting through my feelings.  He was telling me that he's a fan of &lt;em&gt;Star Trek, Next Generation.  &lt;/em&gt;I laughed and told him that I had never seen the show but was willing to remain open minded.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'll have to show you an episode," he said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He said a lot of things like that.  When I mentioned the opera he said "we'll have to go!"  When he mentioned roller-blading he said "I'll have to teach you!"  When I mentioned a road-trip I once took he said "We'll have to go on a road trip!"  It was weird.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After dinner he suggested a walk.  We walked past &lt;em&gt;Lupa.  &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'll have to take you to eat there!" he said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was a cold night and I was freezing.  I didn't want to go for a "drink" with him.  I sort of just wanted to go home.  He, however, didn't want the night to end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"We &lt;em&gt;could &lt;/em&gt;go back to my place and watch an episode of &lt;em&gt;Star Trek,&lt;/em&gt;" he suggested.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course I knew what that meant.  But, I found myself being rather passive and robotic, and for some reason, agreed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He lived around the corner in a grimy studio apartment with a large flat-screen TV.  The futon was at a weird angle to the television.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You'll hurt your neck.  Better off sitting on the bed," he said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ugh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, I did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I don't have to go into every detail in order for you to figure out what happened next.  He started trying to kiss me and make out with me.  At first, I tried to resist a little, but I just couldn't deal with the discomfort of putting him off, so at some point, I just decided to detach and let it happen.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Do you have a condom?" I asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yes!" he exclaimed, running to get one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I &lt;em&gt;completely &lt;/em&gt;surprised him with my candid offer of sex.  Why did I do it?  I just didn't feel like making out with him anymore, nor did I feel like having to find a way to make my exit.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As Cherubino put it-- "With you, Hyde, you always choose to be miserable rather than be uncomfortable!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next thing I knew, there was some guy making a nauseatingly dreamy face on top of me, with &lt;em&gt;Star Trek &lt;/em&gt;playing in the background.  I didn't really want to be there.  And I hadn't had sex with anyone except Narc since September, 2005.  Ugh.  What was I &lt;em&gt;doing???  &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Afterwards, I tried to make an exit, but he kept pulling me back in and telling me that he wanted to do it again.  He apologized over and over for finishing too fast.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I haven't had sex in a month," he said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't care-- I was grateful for the fast finish.  And besides, a guy should &lt;em&gt;never &lt;/em&gt;apologize for his performance.  It wasn't attractive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I ended up staying a while longer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I wish you could spend the night just like this," he said, pulling me onto his chest.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't like how slim he felt compared to Narc.  I was starting to feel rotten.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I finally got out of there, yanking on my jeans and making a hasty exit, my head was spinning. The guy was nice enough to give me cab fare, but it somehow felt even more gross to be handed a $20 bill on my way out the door.  That's when I texted Narc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;My head is spinning. Everything is so fucked up right now,&lt;/em&gt; I said&lt;em&gt;. &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;All I know is that I miss you and I still love you and I'm dumb for writing this text, but I don't care.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, that was that.  He texted me the next day, but I never wrote back.  I decided to let that one go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a fun weekend, in which I put it all out of my mind. On Friday night I went out with Jake and Shadkhen (&lt;em&gt;and got free drinks all night, thanks to my low-cut shirt&lt;/em&gt;) and on Saturday night, I went out for dinner, drinks at &lt;em&gt;Tao &lt;/em&gt;and dancing with the girls for Valentine's Day.  Fun, fun, fun!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Sunday morning, I met my friend Farb for brunch near Gramercy.  While we were eating, the waiter came over with a note for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I would love to take you to dinner sometime.  Perhaps even tonight?  &lt;/em&gt;It read.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was signed with a name and a phone number.  Farb and I were a bit bewildered and didn't know from whom the note came.  The waiter told us it was from the general manager of the restaurant next door and that he had been in the restaurant but had since left.  Very weird-- why did he not come over himself or at least try to make eye contact with me?  Farb asked the hostess to point him out to us if he came back.  She said he was a nice guy, not sketchy, and when he came back in, she signaled to us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was really cute.  I could only see him from across the room, but he looked sort of like Hugh Grant, with a lot of stubble.  He was wearing a suit with an open collar and no tie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"He's hot.  You should call him," Farb concluded.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I agreed.  But who does that kind of thing?  Who calls random phone numbers passed to them by waiters?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hyde-- that's who.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was happy to be able to access my old Hyde free-spirit-ness without any drugs or alcohol in the mix.  I sent him a text the next day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Hi.  You sent me your phone number via the waiter at brunch yesterday morning.  I have to ask why you didn't come over and say hello yourself.  :)  --Hyde&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He wrote back pretty quickly:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I didn't want to be intrusive.  Would you like to meet later on for a coffee?  Around 7?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, we went back and forth for a while, making a plan.  I wrote again:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Ok.  So-- Irving &amp;amp; 17th at 9-ish?  How will I know you? Or will you just recognize me?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I'll recognize you.  How can I forget?  &lt;/em&gt;came his reply.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I got dressed and headed out.  (&lt;em&gt;Before I left, I stopped by to say hi to NDN and Tamika.  She was having some drama about having cancelled for a friend's bachelorette party.) &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I got to the coffee shop first and sat on a bench outside, smoking a cigarette.  A charming guy approached.  I kind of knew it was him, but played it as if I didn't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Do you have a light...&lt;em&gt;Hyde?&lt;/em&gt;" he asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This guy was definitely a slickster.  He had a bad boy vibe, and I couldn't help but be attracted to that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It turns out that he is 33 and is from Tel Aviv.  He was a bartender there and followed a girlfriend to NY three years ago, although they've been broken up for a year and a half.  (&lt;em&gt;When he asked me about my last relationship, I tried to skirt the issue, and only said that I was coming out of one).  &lt;/em&gt;He is also a short story writer and has started taking a class in screenwriting.  (&lt;em&gt;Yeah-- I know).  &lt;/em&gt;We had really great conversation chemistry, talking about everything from the metaphysics of history to religion, philosophy, travel and food.  He is &lt;em&gt;really &lt;/em&gt;into food and wine (&lt;em&gt;two things I can't really partake of) &lt;/em&gt;and was going on about the sensual nature of food that has been crafted with intention.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He tried to extend the date a little, but I had to be up early to teach and was scared I would end up giving a repeat performance of the Thursday night debacle.  So, instead, we shared a cab and he dropped me on my corner.  Before I had a chance to make it to my front door, he had written me a text:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I enjoyed your company, Hyde.  Have sweet dreams.  I would like to see you again soon.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't answer his text.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day I got another text from him:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Hyde, I'm going to leave the next meeting in your hands.  I know it is hard to get used to others.  Ciao beautiful.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wasn't sure what to make of that.  Why is he leaving it in my hands?  Didn't he leave it in my hands to call him in the first place?  I like when guys take charge, so I was a little annoyed.  I waited a day before writing back:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Well, this week is turning out to be pretty busy but maybe dinner or a drink next week... I enjoyed our meeting on Monday.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His response:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Hi Hyde.  I had a good time.  Wish it could be longer... I can make myself available in the beginning of next week.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So-- that's that.  We'll see if anything comes of it.  In the meantime, I have a possible date tonight, picked out of the deluge of improbable matches coming through the online profile.  Some 40 year old guy wants to take me to the Met Museum.  We still have to work out the logistics.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Bottom line-- no one can accuse me of not putting myself out there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And that's Hyde "on dating."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;love,&lt;br /&gt;h&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/205223477026391848-6050852779079340998?l=hyde-chaptertwo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hyde-chaptertwo.blogspot.com/feeds/6050852779079340998/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=205223477026391848&amp;postID=6050852779079340998' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/205223477026391848/posts/default/6050852779079340998'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/205223477026391848/posts/default/6050852779079340998'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hyde-chaptertwo.blogspot.com/2009/02/on-dating.html' title='On Dating...'/><author><name>Hyde</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://h1.ripway.com/da119/avatarmermaid.jpg'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-205223477026391848.post-3907682957472092844</id><published>2009-02-18T14:23:00.013-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-18T22:10:57.280-05:00</updated><title type='text'>On Narc</title><content type='html'>So much has been happening that I think it's time to blog about some of it-- and I can only think of it in three broad categories, "On Narc," "On Dating," and "On &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0"&gt;Cherubino&lt;/span&gt;." And I guess I'll have to do it in installments because there's so damn much to say!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So... here I go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;ON NARC:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will try very, very hard to make a long story short.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last April, &lt;a href="http://hyderesurrected.blogspot.com/2008/04/conflict-is-original-meaning-of-being.html"&gt;I tried to break it off with him&lt;/a&gt;. After all of the torture I went through, staying with him while he was traipsing around with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1"&gt;PopStarChick&lt;/span&gt;, I knew that I couldn't put myself through that again-- sticking around while he was with another woman.  When he started hanging out with LA-Girl, I was ready to be done. Well, it's obvious that I didn't &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;want &lt;/span&gt;to be done, but I just couldn't survive it emotionally.  Rather than allowing the break-up to happen, we both talked ourselves in circles until he agreed to be monogamous with me, but not to be my official "boyfriend" in title.  I thought that it could and would be enough.  We had one other bad night-- around the time of his birthday in May and I told him that it was over between us, yet again.  But by the end of May and the start of June, I had buckled and allowed the status &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2"&gt;quo&lt;/span&gt; to return.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Over the next several months, Narc and I grew closer and closer.  When he got sick this past summer with another blood clot, he stopped going out and drinking as much, and we started spending more "down time" together. There were no other women in his orbit and I was with him 5-6 and sometimes 7 nights a week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Around Halloween he even acknowledged that he might have a problem with his drinking and that he wanted to change his life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then he backed away from that idea and started having more and more "boys nights" out with his latest crew.  I had the nauseating feeling that he was trying to pick up girls on those nights out, and the suspicion and fear was hard to deal with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In November it became more and more clear that my suspicions were based in reality and I had to confirm them.  I saw that he &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3"&gt;texted&lt;/span&gt; some girl "Next time I'll have to take you on a proper date." There were other confirmations as well.  It made me feel sick to my stomach (&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;especially as that incident happened while I was on Long Island having surgery!) &lt;/span&gt;and I started to throw up more and more often from anxiety, but I tried my best to ignore it and not rock the boat.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was anxious about my birthday and about whether or not he would come to my party, buy me a present, or anything else.  It turns out that he did come to my party even though all of my AA people were there along with my mom and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4"&gt;BigSis&lt;/span&gt;.  Narc brought two of his friends and didn't really talk to many other people.  Even though I wasn't serving alcohol, he and his friends had some sort of stash and were drinking.  They left the party mid-way to go to a bar and Narc and I got in a fight about it.  I told him I didn't want him to leave.  Later that night, he came back to my place (&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;at around 2:00 AM) &lt;/span&gt;and the party had already wound down.  He was drunk and we had a fight in which he insisted that he's "not my boyfriend" so he had "no obligation to stay."  I told him that if he wasn't my boyfriend, we had to stop acting like he was.  He insisted that all of my friends were rude to him.  (&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;They weren't).   &lt;/span&gt;I told him that he was just being paranoid that they don't like him because they know how he has hurt me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You make your bed, you lie in it," I said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was angry at me, but we ended up erasing it all with awesome sex.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On my actual birthday, we had a beautiful night.  He took me out to the Russian Tea Room, bought me a beautiful present and I felt happier with him than ever before.  We had amazing sex that night too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So... it was all a little confusing, to say the least.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was very anxious about going to Long Island to have my next few surgeries in December because I was afraid that while I was gone he would pursue other women.  The anxiety was horrible and mostly manifested itself through terrible nausea and a feeling that I would call "paranoia," except that it was too much based in fact for it to be true-paranoia.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Narc and I had tickets to go see John Edward, the psychic, but once I had my surgery scheduled I could no longer go.  We were together up until the very night before my surgery, but I was convinced that he would try to take some other woman to that event.  After my surgery I was horribly depressed.  The combination of anaesthesia, morphine and &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5"&gt;percocet&lt;/span&gt; in my system, mixed with my anxiety was too much for me to bear.  I was trying to get to the computer to see if he posted a &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6"&gt;craigslist&lt;/span&gt; ad even though I could barely sit up and move, let alone shower myself or get to the bathroom.  It was really just sick, sick, sick.  My brain was in a fog and I couldn't stop crying.  As a testament to my utter exhaustion and vulnerability, I even opened up to my mom about this-- something that I never thought I would do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Why are you doing this to yourself, sweetie?" she asked.  "You are supposed to be healing your body right now.  You are supposed to be taking care of yourself. This is a happy and exciting moment.  Why are you &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7"&gt;toxifying&lt;/span&gt; your life with this kind of fear and pain?  It's just not necessary!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For some reason, even though I've heard that a million times before and from a million other people, I actually heard her.  I had one of those "moments of clarity."  Why &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;WAS &lt;/span&gt;I putting myself through all that?  I decided that I had to get help and that I'd probably have to end it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the meantime, I could barely get hold of Narc via text for a few days. Then, we finally spoke and he was very sweet.  He &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8"&gt;texted&lt;/span&gt; me all sorts of loving messages.  "We'll be together again soon, darling," he said.  He told me how much he missed me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Christmas Eve I was determined to get a present to him.  No one else had bought him a present for Christmas and he had no plans for the evening-- a "Christmas Orphan" once again, as he likes to say.  It was hard to find a service that would deliver on Christmas Eve-- harder still because I  was so incapacitated.  Narc had talked about wanting to make a gingerbread house together and I found a place that brought him a gingerbread house kit and a giant Hershey's kiss.  It was the best I could do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later that night on the way to my aunt's house, I sent him a text. (&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I don't still have all of these texts saved, so these are approximations).&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Did you get any surprises tonight? &lt;/span&gt;I asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Narc: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;There was a package at the door, &lt;/span&gt;he said, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;But I didn't pick it up from the doorman yet.  Was that from you?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Hyde:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Maybe it was from Santa.  What are you up to tonight?  Merry Xmas!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Narc:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Just coming back from drinks with Scott.  Merry Christmas to you too, hon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;About ten minutes later, he wrote again: &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;A gingerbread house kit!  I love it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Hyde: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;A kit and a kiss.  Love you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9"&gt;texted&lt;/span&gt; him again later that night, but he didn't answer.  I &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10"&gt;texted&lt;/span&gt; him once more before bed, still no answer.  I was a little anxious about it, but decided to let my psyche rest. After all, it was Christmas.  And I was trying to heal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Over the course of the next few days, Narc wrote several times to tell me that he couldn't wait to see me.  I was originally supposed to be back in the city on the 26&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; but decided to push it off until the 27&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; because I wasn't entirely self-sufficient.  On the day I returned, he rushed up to midtown to meet me in my apartment that afternoon.  We went out for Ethiopian food for dinner. We were inseparable for the next two or three days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, all was not well.  The amazing sex seemed to have dissipated.  He wouldn't kiss me during sex.  I kept trying, but he wouldn't.  It really confused me.  And get this-- remember that back in November he &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13"&gt;texted&lt;/span&gt; some woman "Next time I'll take you on a proper date"?  Well, I saw that he had, indeed, invited that woman to go see the John Edward show with him. She couldn't make it because she was in France.  He tried to set up a date with her upon her return.  His texts were very flirty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Can't wait to see you darling.  Kiss kiss, &lt;/span&gt;he wrote.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ugh.  I felt sick, but did nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Tuesday, December 30&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14"&gt;th&lt;/span&gt; I went down to see Narc after my regular AA meeting.  He was finishing up some part of a video game.  We had plans to catch that Vampire movie at the Angelika-- "Let the Right One In."  I went into his bedroom to check my email while he was finishing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15"&gt;Narc's&lt;/span&gt; computer opens the Internet browser to his yahoo account as a home page.  He was logged in to his email.  I had no intention of looking at anything, but I glanced at the page as I was typing in my &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16"&gt;gmail&lt;/span&gt; address.  There were four or five messages in a row from someone named "Mona."  My stomach turned. I knew right away that something was wrong.  I decided to look.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't have to look long or even very carefully to figure out what this was about.  Narc had met up with this woman via &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17"&gt;Craigslist&lt;/span&gt; on Christmas Eve.  They met for drinks at &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18"&gt;Cercle&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; Rouge.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm sorry we didn't get you up in time with the alarm!" he wrote to her.  "Too bad you were late to meet your family on Christmas."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So-- she slept there.  I literally thought I was going to die.  I went into the bathroom and started to throw up.  When I came out, he asked if I was okay.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No." I said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just stood there, the lights pounding in my head.  I could feel my heart thudding.  It was like everything was in slow motion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Narc-- are you seeing other women?" I asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It felt like the voice that asked that was coming from somewhere far outside of my body.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Of course not," he said.  "Why would you ask me that?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He continued to vehemently deny it, insisting that I was just creating drama because I'm a drama queen and because I had just come from my AA meeting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't and won't attempt to reconstruct that whole conversation.  The bottom line is that he denied any wrong-doing.  I didn't want to tell him I saw those emails, so I simply said that whether or not he had been seeing other women, I felt like he was, I felt degraded and rejected in our relationship and that I couldn't go on seeing him on a daily basis, sleeping with him, saying "I love you," and not being his girlfriend.  I was also concerned about his New Year's plans.  He was going out with "the boys."  I wanted to be with him.  I wanted to share a New Year's Kiss.  But most of all, I was just worried about him trying to meet someone else.  He said all sorts of terrible things.  I pointed out that he stopped kissing me during sex since my surgery.  Then he told me that I couldn't be his girlfriend because he didn't feel chemistry with me.  That confused the hell out of me.  The &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;only &lt;/span&gt;thing we have ever consistently had is sexual chemistry.  When I challenged him, he said that he &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;used &lt;/span&gt;to feel chemistry for me, but not since he stopped drinking.  (&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Do I need to point out that he never stopped drinking?  I pointed it out to him.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;"Well, from when I switched from hard liquor to beer."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You're telling me that we can't be together because once you laid of whiskey you don't want me anymore?  What do you even like about me?!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He wouldn't answer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Why am I even here, Narc?  Name one thing you like about me!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm not going to play these games with you, Hyde."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What games?!  Name one thing!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He wouldn't.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was hysterical in tears.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"We're going to miss the movie," he said.  "Do you still want to go?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Um... okay."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I pulled myself together and we went to the movie.  I cried through most of it.  Afterwards we went back to his apartment.  I sat on the couch crying and eating Brazil nuts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Is this how it's going to be all night?" he asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You sitting here and weeping?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Um... I don't know."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;" 'Cause if it is, it's not going to work for me."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Are you kicking me out?  You can't kick me out!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I promised to go to bed and to try to stop crying.  He said he was going to stay in the living room and read.  I climbed into his bed by myself.  I couldn't stop crying.  I heard him at the door.  I thought he might say something comforting, but he didn't.  Instead he closed the door tightly so he wouldn't have to hear me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think we clung to each other in our sleep that night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next morning, I woke up with all of this sitting in a lump in my throat.  I told him that I couldn't let it go.  The conversation and the pain started up all over again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The only reason we're not together in that way, Hyde, is because you want to have a family and I don't."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"That's the dumbest thing I ever heard," I said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Really-- I can't have a girlfriend with whom I know there's no future.  That's why you're not my girlfriend."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The conversation went on in some circles.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You've told me time and again that I'm not your girlfriend and I should stop acting like I am."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Exactly!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, I think I finally hear you.  I'm going to stop acting like I am.  I'm going to stop seeing you, sleeping with you, practically living with you, supporting you, telling you I love you."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hyde, that's not what I meant."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"The bottom line is that I finally hear you!!!  I get it.  I can't do this on these terms anymore.  I love you, but it hurts too much and it's destroying me.  We have to say goodbye."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I left in tears.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was New Year's Eve.  That afternoon I went to see B in the hospital.  His daughter had been born the day before.  For the rest of the evening I cried.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19"&gt;Meema&lt;/span&gt; came over to drag me out for some New Year's Eve festivities.  I wore a hot red-dress and got tons of attention.  Everyone stared at my brand new breasts and some guy told me I had on the hottest dress at the party.  I felt numb though.  And it was hard to dance, given my recent surgeries.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I came home that night and went to bed around 3:30 AM.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I woke up in the morning, I had several missed calls from Narc.  It turns out that he came by my building at around 5:00 AM.  Obviously, he was drunk, and the doorman wouldn't let him in.  I called him back and left him a message telling him that I hoped he had gotten home safely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later that night, I missed a flurry of text messages and phone calls from him.  I was hanging out with &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20"&gt;NDN&lt;/span&gt; and Tamika and didn't have my phone on me.  These text messages I actually did save (&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;at least the ones he sent.  I don't have my "replies.")&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;9:14 PM:&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Can we talk at some point tonight?  I don't want to see anyone else, and I don't want to live a life without you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;9:51:&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Can I at least come up so we can talk for a little bit?  I don't have to stay if you don't want me to.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;10:11:&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Darling, please let me come by tonight.  I love you and I don't want it to be like this.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;10:26:&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I don't want to reject you, I just don't know where we can go together if you want a family in a few years and I don't know if I can do that.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;10:27:&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;If it wasn't for that, you know I'd want you as my girlfriend in name and all.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;10:29&lt;/span&gt;: &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Can I at least come by so we can talk?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;10:33:&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;There's a lot I want to say that I didn't get to say yesterday. Please, I don't want us to be apart. I don't want to see anyone else. There must be something we can work out.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;10:36:&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;If I said I wanted to be your boyfriend and you to be my girlfriend, would that change anything?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(To which I said something like- it would have meant everything- respect, etc.  But it's too late-- there's no trust).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;10:42:&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;What do you mean no trust?  I've never been anything but completely honest with you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;10:45:&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I don't want to be with anyone else, but at the same time I don't know how I can make you happy without committing to a family.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(To which I said something like: The Dominican Republic Girl, UN Chick, Exhibitionist, &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21"&gt;PopStar&lt;/span&gt;, Laurie, LA-Girl, etc. Clearly you are "just not that into me.")&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;10:47:&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;What are you talking about, Hyde?? I spend ALL of my time with you!! And have for years!! How could I not want and love you?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;10:51:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; The only woman I dated since having met you was &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22"&gt;PopStar&lt;/span&gt;, nothing happened with any of the others. And we were not exclusive then at any rate.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;10:52:&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Jesus, all I did last night was talk about how much I missed you and wished you were out with us.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;10:57:&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Well, part of what I wanted to say is that I think you're the most amazing woman I've ever met. I'm sorry I couldn't tell you that yesterday. I guess I was just flustered.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;11:02:&lt;/span&gt; &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;And also, I love you more than I've ever loved anyone in my life.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;11:05&lt;/span&gt;: &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Can't we at least talk about all of this a little bit?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Anyway, we did end up finally speaking on the phone.  I was sitting on &lt;span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_23"&gt;NDN's&lt;/span&gt; couch.  He kept writing me encouraging messages like "Be Strong!!!"  And "Don't forget about MONA!!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I said everything I wanted to say and I really stuck up for myself,  but the fact that I was bothering to have the conversation at all meant that a part of me still believed in salvaging something.  And hasn't it been proven unsalvageable at this point???  He kept turning the conversation to this issue of having kids and having a family and saying that we want different things. I was having trouble remembering that this all started with him cheating on me.  I asked him about that text "Next time I'll take you on a proper date."  He said it was sent to his friend Monica-- that she had a bad internet date and he was trying to cheer her up.  It was a nice try, but I knew for a fact it was a lie.  I couldn't tell him that though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In any case, we talked for hours and got nowhere.  We both went to bed that night alone and exhausted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After that I didn't see him for a few days and it was painful. He tried to inititate a meeting, but I refused.  Then, by the end of the week I buckled.  I called him and asked to see him.  We made a plan for me to go down to his place and we were going to cook dinner.  I hopped into a cab with groceries.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm still at &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Forge,&lt;/span&gt;" he said.  "Meet me here."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was expecting to arrive at the restaurant to find him paying his bill or something.  Instead, he was sitting at the bar, drinking Jack Daniels, and chatting with two of his friends.  He barely looked up to say hello to me (&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;despite my pounding heart) &lt;/span&gt;and I couldn't drag him out of there until after 10:00 PM.  I was angry.  He made up some lame excuse about bad timing and having to catch up with his friends, but none of it made any sense.  How could he treat me like that after everything we had just been through?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back at his place he became loving and attentive, trying to make out with my while I was cooking, and kissing me deeply and passionately.  I let myself go-- I just gave in to it all, but it was still pretty damn confusing.  In my mind, it had to be a one-night deal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next day (Monday, January 5th), he called to see if he could come over after his Tarot class.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No, Narc.  We can't do this," I said.  "I am not your girlfriend so I'm not going to act like I am.  You can't have it both ways."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"So, if you were my 'girlfriend,' I could see you?  We could be together?  It would really change that much for you?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yes."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Did I mean that?  I didn't know anymore.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;"Okay," he said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Okay, what?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Let's try it."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Being boyfriend and girlfriend?  Really?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I knew how dumb this was, even as it was happening, but I let it happen.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;"I can't be without you, so let's try."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I agreed.  And I set out to meet him at "The Perfect Pint," a new pub in the neighborhood.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Over the course of the next week, things got worse.  Narc started to ignore me.  He had two "boys nights" in a row.  On the first (that Thursday), he didn't return my texts and I felt sick in the pit of my stomach.  On Friday, January 9th I went to see a Professional Bull Riding rodeo event at Madison Square Garden with NDN, Tamika and their friends.  I asked Narc if he wanted to join up afterwards.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Only if Mike can't hang out," he said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I felt awful being relegated to second place and we got in a fight on the phone.  Things were not going well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Still, I swallowed it down and hoped for the best.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another week went by.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I saw that Narc had texted Mona, the Christmas Eve girl, and invited her out on that Thursday evening boy's night.  I felt sick and betrayed, but said nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, on Friday, January 16th, the shit hit the fan.  It was a freezing cold day that day-- 14-degrees before the wind chill.  I was teaching up in the Bronx in the morning.  When I got out, Narc had sent me a text.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Come cuddle!" he wrote.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went down to see him.  He was blood-shot and woozy and hung-over.  We had amazing sex all afternoon though and watched "My So-Called Life."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At some point he got a text message.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh, that's from Scott," he said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought it was strange that he bothered to announce who it was from.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then the smoke alarm in someone else's apartment went off.  Narc left me laying out the Thai take-out while he went to tell the front desk.  I looked at his cell phone while he was gone.  The text had been from the Exhibitionist.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Are you seeing anyone these days? &lt;/span&gt;she wrote.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Nope.  Pure as a monk! &lt;/span&gt;he answered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Do you want to be seeing anyone?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;If the right woman were to come along, &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;he answered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I felt sick all over again.  That same thudding in my ears.  That same wave of nausea in my stomach and my limbs.  He came back into the apartment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What's wrong?" he asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What do you mean?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What's wrong with you?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Nothing!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hyde-- something is wrong.  What could possibly have happened in the two minutes I was gone?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Nothing!  I'm just a moody girl, okay?  Let's just eat."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He sat down on the couch.  I drew my knees up to my chest.  I was going to crack.  I knew it... I knew it.  I didn't want to tell him I had seen his phone because I knew he would turn it around and attack me.  But I had no strength left-- there was nothing in me to try to make this work anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I saw your phone," I said.  "I saw what you wrote to the Exhibitionist."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You looked at my phone?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It fell."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I don't think it fell.  I think you looked at it."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"That's not the point.  I saw what you wrote."&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He claimed that he was being "sarcastic."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"That's bullshit I said."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You know what, Hyde!  Get out. This is the reason I broke up with Natalie.  I never thought &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;YOU &lt;/span&gt;would turn out to be such an untrustworthy bitch!!!  Get dressed and get out!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"My pleasure!" I shot back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I started to get dressed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You know what, Narc?  You're a fucking  liar!  You're a liar and a cheater and you spend your whole life playing the vicitm.  If you're alone it's because you make it that way!  You choose to be alone.  You make it fucking impossible for anyone to love you!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What else do you want to see in here? What else, Hyde!" he said, scrolling through his iPhone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I walked over and peered over the text message list.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Who's Mona?" I asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The texts were right there-- the ones I knew were about him inviting her out for boys night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Mona is Monica," he said.  "That's just what I call my friend Monica sometimes."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"That's bullshit!" I laughed. "I'm not stupid.  Do you really think I'm that much of an idiot?!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He kept insisting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Fine. Show me that you don't have Mona and Monica &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;both &lt;/span&gt;listed in your contact list, then!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I have her home phone and cell phone-- it's under two names," he said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You are such a fucking liar.  And who's Anna??"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;There was some other text messasge to a girl named Anna.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;"Just a girl I met out with Mike who wanted me to read her Tarot.  God damn it, Hyde!  Aren't I allowed to meet people?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No!  You're not allowed to go out to bars and pick up girls and read their Tarot."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Mike was trying to hit on her, not me."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Bullshit."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;I turned away and continued getting dressed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I really, really love you Narc.  I really do.  You make it so fucking impossible though!  I hope for your sake that Mona or Anna or whoever will love you a fraction as much because you drive everyone away. You  must &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;want &lt;/span&gt;to be alone."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I don't want to be alone, Hyde."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He seemed vulnerable for a moment, but then changed his tone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;" You know what, Hyde?  I wasn't cheating on you.  I wasn't seeing anyone else.  But now I will!  Now I WILL!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I-DON'T-FUCKING-CARE!!!  See who you want, Narc!  It's over between us!  Dead!  OVER!!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was standing at the door now, fully bundled up in my wintercoat, layers of tights and scarveas and my snuggly winter hat with the pom-pom on top.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"WHO THE FUCK IS MONA!?!?!??!" I screamed, at full volume.  "STOP LYING TO ME!!!!!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I must have startled him, because he changed his tone.  I kind of startled myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Fine, fine," he said, sort of flustered.  "Mona isn't Monica.  She's some girl I met months and months ago at &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The Auction House. &lt;/span&gt;She just got in touch with me and asked me to do a reading for her.  I didn't want to say because I knew you'd be upset."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You're a liar," I said calmly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm not lying."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"So... if I come over there and look at your phone it'll be all about Tarot?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yes."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Let me see."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He pulled the phone back closer to him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Fucking, liar," I said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He then tapped the screen of the phone as if he would show me after all.  I walked over to the couch and peered over at it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Gone, gone, gone!" he said, tapping each text conversation and erasing it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Gone?  Well, then I'm gone too!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I stormed back over to the door.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Don't call me!" I shouted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"That won't be a problem."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Those are the last words I heard him speak.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So...  A month went by.  A freakin' impossibly hard month.  I've been counting one-day-at-a-time.  I've been crying.  I've been working.  I've been living my life.  I decided to start dating.  I've been trying to re-group.  I've been spending time with good friends.  The night after the break-up, NDN and Tamika took me to Atlantic City wtih them.  I've been trying not to look back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I miss him like hell and it hurts like hell.  Last week I had sex with someone else (&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;a story that I will tell you all about in my post "on dating") &lt;/span&gt;and it fucked with my head.  I sent Narc a text right after.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;My head is spinning. Everything is so fucked up right now, &lt;/span&gt;I said.  &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;All I know is that I miss you and I still love you and I'm dumb for writing this text, but I don't care.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Four days later (on this past Sunday), he wrote to me.&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know.  I miss you too.  Don't know what else to say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;I wrote back:&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I love you so much...in the bottom of my heart.  So much.  And whether or not we can be together or friends or whatever, I will always, always love you.  I hope that someday we can at least be in touch and that I don't have to lose you forever.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Narc:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;I love you too.  I don't want you to not be in my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Hyde: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I'm so glad you wrote.  To know that I'm not alone right now in all of these feelings.  What we were wasn't working.  I don't know what we can be to each other.  But I say good night to yo before I close my eyes.  So just know that for now.  I don't know what else to do either.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Narc:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;I thought it could have worked, but I guess we didn't do it right.  Still, that doesn't mean that we can't know each other,  love each other as friends perhaps.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And no-- you're not alone in your feelings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Anyway, another day or two went by.  He sent me some innocuous text about Kiefer on "24."  I answered just as innocuously.  Then, last night just as NDN, Tamika and I were wrapping up our American Idol night, he wrote again:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Narc:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;Just getting home now, take it you already watched 'Idol'?  Was going to see if you wanted to come down to watch it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Hyde: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Yeah, we can't do that anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Narc:&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Hyde, I wasn't inviting you down for sex, which I'm not up for at any rate, but just to watch 'Idol.'  If you've already seen it then no worries, perhaps &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;we'll get together some other time.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I couldn't think of anything to say to that, so I didn't answer.  Then, right before bed, I felt anxious, so I called him.  I haven't heard his voice since that day in January.  He didn't pick up, so I left a message.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Just thought it would be better to talk in person," I said.  "I don't know why I'm calling.  It's probably too soon.  Didn't mean to upset you with my text.  Just trying to figure this all out.  Anyway, have a good night..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was surprised when he wrote back:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Don't really have the energy to talk on the phone right now, really just want to zone out, watch 'Idol," go to bed. Can talk soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Hyde: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Ok.  Have a good night.  Maybe it's too soon anyway.  Be happy &amp;amp; healthy.  And enjoy Idol.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Then I was&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; really &lt;/span&gt;surprised with what came next--&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Narc: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I'm fine with the amount of time that has passed, or hasn't passed, but because you are the woman and make all of the decisions, we are of course at your discretion when it comes to whenever you feel like hanging out again.  So maybe we can leave it at: you can figure that out and let me know when you like.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By the way, didn't mean that to sound harsh, or difficult, just too tired to talk and feeling like a passive player in your self-scripted drama isn't helping.  Feel like we'd just get into an argument if we talked now, when really, I just want to watch "Idol"...   At any rate, sure you're in bed now, sweet dreams.  Maybe we'll talk soon.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;So, I responded...&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Hyde:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; I'm sorry you feel like a passive player.  I have no script.  Just want two opposing things at once-- to see you b/c I love you AND to move on b/c it hurt and it wasn't working.  I will try to stay away until I have had time to fully move on emotionally.  I don't want to make you upset or uncomfortable or feel jerked around. So-- I apologize for that. I'm doing my best.  Sweet dreams to you too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Narc:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; I know, I want to see you too.  Sleeping alone is no fun.  But again, you're in the driver's seat (or "driving the cattle" etc as Dr. Phil might say), so you'll have to let me know what you want to do eventually etc., about perhaps being friends and all the rest of it.  Anyway, off to bed...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;Hyde: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;You drive your cattle and I'll drive mine. I do miss you and  love you. But I want to be healthy and whole and I wish that for you too.  Good night.  I'm sad that you're lonely tonight.  xo.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Today he sent me some dumb email about a list on cracked.com and also a text about the possibility of Kim Raver and Kirstin Davis being cast in a script he hasn't written yet.  It's raining out and I have to go teach a class in Brooklyn tonight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is so, so, so much else going on-- my recent dates, the emotional upheaval with Cherubino, etc.  But that's the Narc story.  I feel like I did my duty by blogging it.  So much of this blog has been my relationship with him, that I felt unsettled not keeping it up to date.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want so badly to be healthy and to not get sucked back in.  But the fear and anxiety I feel when the tie with him is cut is almost as terrifying as the pain when I'm with him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ick.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, hope you are all well.  I'm doing better than this post has surely made it seem!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;lots of love,&lt;br /&gt;h&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/205223477026391848-3907682957472092844?l=hyde-chaptertwo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hyde-chaptertwo.blogspot.com/feeds/3907682957472092844/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=205223477026391848&amp;postID=3907682957472092844' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/205223477026391848/posts/default/3907682957472092844'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/205223477026391848/posts/default/3907682957472092844'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hyde-chaptertwo.blogspot.com/2009/02/on-narc.html' title='On Narc'/><author><name>Hyde</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://h1.ripway.com/da119/avatarmermaid.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-205223477026391848.post-4802014648199080305</id><published>2009-02-08T15:10:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-08T15:20:08.778-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm Still Here...</title><content type='html'>Well, it's February.  I'm still here.  I'm still not really ready to write about or process my life online.  But I wanted to check in with a mini-update. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It has been 23 days since I've had any contact with Narc.  In the meantime, I posted a profile on an online dating website (&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;to help keep myself from the inevitable pining&lt;/span&gt;), I'm on a new anti-anxiety medication, I joined a gym and I've been spending a lot of time with friends and family.  Anxious and I have met up a few times and she has been so sweet and supportive.  NDN, Tamika and I have instituted "American Idol Night" at their place on Tuesdays.  Hammer and I have been spending more time together too.  We went shopping last weekend at the boutiques in SoHo and enjoyed the recession sales.  We both bought awesome designer dresses at &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Nicole Miller.&lt;/span&gt; I have to say-- I've also been enjoying my new physique.  Never before in my life have I been "picked up" with lines like "where do you work out?"  Last weekend I hit the town and was out until closing time all weekend long. This weekend was much more chill.  StarGazer celebrated her two-year anniversary on Friday night and yesterday I spent the day with my family on Long Island.  I am totally and madly in love with my little niece.  I babysit for her every Monday and it is a highlight of my week.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other than that, things are pretty much the same-- a ton of teaching, voice lessons, service for AA and life goes on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As you can imagine, I'm having a very hard time and totally taking it one day at a time, but it's the most I can say about Narc here.  Maybe one day I'll be able to recount the story of how it all came to an end.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I'm going to cook dinner tonight.  I have a date on Thursday.  Oh-- and I'm planning on re-painting my apartment very, very soon.  I'm going to do something more feminine and totally fresh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok...  Well, that's my mini-update.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hope you are all well out there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lots of love,&lt;br /&gt;h&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/205223477026391848-4802014648199080305?l=hyde-chaptertwo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hyde-chaptertwo.blogspot.com/feeds/4802014648199080305/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=205223477026391848&amp;postID=4802014648199080305' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/205223477026391848/posts/default/4802014648199080305'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/205223477026391848/posts/default/4802014648199080305'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hyde-chaptertwo.blogspot.com/2009/02/im-still-here.html' title='I&apos;m Still Here...'/><author><name>Hyde</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://h1.ripway.com/da119/avatarmermaid.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-205223477026391848.post-21988089657254845</id><published>2008-12-31T14:46:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-31T14:47:00.091-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Severance</title><content type='html'>I broke it off with him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-h-&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/205223477026391848-21988089657254845?l=hyde-chaptertwo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hyde-chaptertwo.blogspot.com/feeds/21988089657254845/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=205223477026391848&amp;postID=21988089657254845' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/205223477026391848/posts/default/21988089657254845'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/205223477026391848/posts/default/21988089657254845'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hyde-chaptertwo.blogspot.com/2008/12/severance.html' title='Severance'/><author><name>Hyde</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://h1.ripway.com/da119/avatarmermaid.jpg'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-205223477026391848.post-7200651967112623194</id><published>2008-12-23T10:37:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-23T10:59:39.314-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Town &amp; Country</title><content type='html'>Just writing to check in and wish everyone happy holidays! &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am still pretty much immobilized, here at my parents house.  The surgery last week went perfectly and I'm healing pretty quickly-- the drains were removed after four days and I'm able to get in and out of bed and shower by myself now.  Even so, I feel like I'm in a fog and have been pretty depressed.  It's only this morning that it started to lift enough for me to even feel like blogging...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for the results?  I am so swollen and bruised and stitched up that it's hard to tell where things are going to settle, but my stomach is, in fact, flat-- a fact that I can't quite seem to process.  So... I will say no more about that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My birthday weekend was a whirlwind.  On Thursday-- the night before my birthday-- Narc took me out to the Russian Tea Room for dinner.  It was fun to get dressed up.  He asked where I wanted to go to eat, and I told him my only requirement was opulence and an old-fashioned decor.  It was the perfect spot.  We were there at midnight, as my new decade rolled in, and he gave me a really sweet gift-- a gorgeous quill-tipped limited edition Elvis collector's pen.  It was really a cute and thoughtful gift.  Better than that, though, he wrote me a card and that's all I've ever really wanted from him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Saturday I spent the entire day cleaning my house like a madwoman, trying to get ready for the party.  Narc hung out for most of the afternoon, sometimes helping me.  The party that night turned out to be a great party-- a million people were in and out and at some points, the apartment was so crowded it was difficult to move through.  I bought a new outfit for the occasion and felt really awesome in it.  But it was strange, too. Narc stayed for the party and invited his friends Scott and Mike.  And my mom and BigSis were there and Cherubino and all of my AA friends.  Narc and his friends left in the middle of the evening (&lt;em&gt;to go get drunk, of course&lt;/em&gt;) and he and I got into a little fight about it. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At the end of the night (&lt;em&gt;around 2:00 AM&lt;/em&gt;) the only people remaining were NDN, a random neighbor from our building I had never met, and my high school friend Farb (&lt;em&gt;who I have only seen once since high school&lt;/em&gt;!) with her fiancee.  Narc came back, wasted and he and I ended up having a fight and then make-up sex, but it soured the evening for me.  Clearly, my attempts to pretend that we have anything resembling something sweet or "normal" will be forever thwarted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He stayed over again that night, obviously, and stayed passed out for most of the next afternoon.  I had to get up on four hours of sleep and head to a baptism in NJ.  BigSis and Bro-in-Law picked me up.  When I got back to the city at around 4:00 PM, Narc was still at my place and just waking up.  We hung out and cleaned up a little and then he stayed all of Monday too, while I furiously packed for my two weeks on Long Island, and tried to finish cleaning up, making last minute arrangements to have my cat fed and Christmas tree watered in my absence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Finally, at around 7:00, we went out for sushi before he put me into a cab.  I was feeling so much anxiety.  I didn't want to leave him.  And I'm not sure if it's because I love him, or because I suspect he's going to go out and get drunk with his friends and meet and date some new girl while I'm gone.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We've only spoken twice since I've been away, but both times he has been very supportive and loving, especially given my depression.  I miss him so much.  I really do love him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's not much to write about concerning my stay here, since all I've really been able to do is lay in bed, listen to Palestrina and watch hour after hour of "Law &amp;amp; Order."  Thank God for those marathons onTNT.  BigSis has come over with Sesame a few times, but it's almost like torture because I can't lift her or hold her.  On Friday, my aunt and uncle came with my cousins Jail and Jol and we all ate takeout Chinese and they gave me a belated birthday present.  On Sunday, my parents helped me to venture out of the house and we went to see "Slumdog Millionaire." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the snowstorm last week, the streets here have turned to sheets of ice.  It's strange watching JBC and LilSis get up early to scrape off their cars.  I'm so used to city living, where the streets are just cleared for you and the snow is never allowed to ice because it is trampled over so much that it turns to brown slush before day's end.  Here, it is still sparkling white outside.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, that's it for now.  I have a headache and even writing just this much has exhausted me.  I'm hoping to be able to come back to the city by Friday.  It's so strange to be away from its rhythm.  But I know I need to heal.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Trying to be patient.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;lots of love,&lt;br /&gt;h&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/205223477026391848-7200651967112623194?l=hyde-chaptertwo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hyde-chaptertwo.blogspot.com/feeds/7200651967112623194/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=205223477026391848&amp;postID=7200651967112623194' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/205223477026391848/posts/default/7200651967112623194'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/205223477026391848/posts/default/7200651967112623194'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hyde-chaptertwo.blogspot.com/2008/12/town-country.html' title='Town &amp; Country'/><author><name>Hyde</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://h1.ripway.com/da119/avatarmermaid.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-205223477026391848.post-7385980015287253910</id><published>2008-12-08T12:52:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-10T13:53:28.648-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Advent</title><content type='html'>I went with B to a "Lessons &amp;amp; Carols" service on Sunday afternoon for advent.  Advent is for waiting.  Waiting... for what?  For everything.  And "waiting" suddenly seems like a wholly appropriate holy idea.  (&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Patiently&lt;/span&gt;.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I'm waiting, myself for a lot of things-- including my surgery next week!  It's in less than a week.  I'm nervous about it-- both about the pain, the anesthesia and about being removed from my life for at least two weeks.  I don't like the idea of being away from AA and being away from Narc.  I know it's terribly insecure, but I feel like something bad is going to happen if I go away.  I am afraid of losing control.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things have been beautiful between us lately, minus our fight last Thursday which neither addressed anything new, nor did it resolve anything old.  On Friday night he came out to a party with me and met StarGazer and Drew for the first time.  On Saturday night, I went to a Christmas party in Astoria and then came back to the East Village for Tamika's birthday party before meeting Narc and his friend Scott again at "Shades of Green" on 15th street.  He and Scott wanted to stay out late, so I ended up heading home on my own that night at around 2:00 AM before I got sucked into Cheers for a quick hello to TT, ThursdayGirl, PumpedUp and BarMan.  I haven't seen any of them in a while.  PumpedUp said I looked "sexy" and ThursdayGirl was freaking out about my physical changes.  It was fun to be out in a plunging neckline with my new breasts.  Brick has dubbed them "Cecily and Liza."  Don't ask me why...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, on Sunday I went to Long Island for a birthday brunch for my mom.  She made omlettes and I was happy to get to play with Sesame. My grandpa was full of stories about WWII to mark the "day of infamy."  LilSis and JBC drove me back into the city before I met B for the church service.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Monday night, Narc and I went to hear a lecture on &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;La Dolce Vita &lt;/span&gt;at the New York Film Academy.  On our way there, I had us stop at the holiday shops in Union Square because I fell in love with an artisan's jewelry there and bought myself a necklace as a birthday present last week.  I lost her card and wanted to go back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Maybe we can find a birthday present for you," Narc said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we found the stand, he picked out a ring, as if he wanted to buy it for me, but then became strangely passive when I said that I wanted it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"If you're not sure, you can always come back for it," he said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No-- I think I'm sure."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He didn't make a move, so I did-- I ended up buying it for myself.  Very strange.  I wasn't about to ask him to take out his money and get me something, but at the same time, I thought that's what he had implied to begin with.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"If you want to gift it to me, you can..." I said as we were walking away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It wouldn't be a surprise then," he said.  "I thought you wanted something sentimental."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Sentimental doesn't have to mean a surprise.  It could mean that we did it together."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't want to push it though.  I wasn't expecting anything from him to begin with, but it just all unfolded in such a strange way.  I do love the ring, and since I bought it for myself, I've simply decided to enjoy it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I've been exhausted overall.  I've been running around like a madwoman (&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;as usual&lt;/span&gt;), not getting enought sleep. And I have to get everything done this week that I'd usually have another few weeks to take care of-- all of my Christmas shopping, writing final exams, planning my birthday party  (&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;and cleaning my house&lt;/span&gt;).  Much, much, much to be done!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And there is a lot to reflect upon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday I babysat for Sesame all afternoon.  We fell asleep together-- me slumped back on the couch, and her- stretched out across my chest.  Then, after AA, I met Narc and his friend Mike and some screenwriter friends of theirs out at Japas 38 for a night of karaoke.  He told me to dress up, so I wore another plunging neckline.  This is turning into fun.  I had a good time, and I know that he was happy to have me there and even wanted to "show off" my singing, but at the same time, he kept taking smoking breaks with Mike and left me sitting there alone amongst a roomfull of strangers.  At one point, I asked him to come sit next to me and he said "no," as Mike wanted to go out for another cigarette.  It pissed me off, so I put on my coat and decided to leave.  It was nearly 1:00 AM and I had to get up early this morning to teach.  When he came back from his cigarette, he saw me with my coat on and looked confused.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm taking off," I said, matter of factly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh, ok..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He put his coat on too and we left together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Things are sort of like that now.  It's all for the better. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later that night at his apartment, I ate half of my leftover cheese-steak sandwich while curled up in his pajama bottoms before going to bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm scared to leave for the surgery anyway.  I don't know what I think is going to happen, but I don't like not knowing.  Maybe I'm just scared of being really slim.  I don't know how to be that...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to learn how to make jewelry in the new year.  The woman in Union Square has inspired me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ten years ago today was the night I was arrested-- two days before my 20th birthday.  God, how I'm ready to be out of my 20's!  I think that 30 is going to be the best decade yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Definitely worth the wait...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;love,&lt;br /&gt;h&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:georgia;" &gt;In finem Psalmus ipsi David&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:georgia;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;Expectans expectavi Dominum et intendit mihi&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:georgia;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Et exaudivit preces meas et eduxit me de lacu miseriae et de luto fecis et statuit super petram pedes meos et direxit gressus meos&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:georgia;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Et inmisit in os meum canticum novum carmen Deo nostro videbunt multi et timebunt et sperabunt in Domino&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:georgia;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Beatus vir cuius est nomen Domini spes ipsius et non respexit in vanitates et insanias falsas&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:georgia;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Multa fecisti tu Domine Deus meus mirabilia tua et cogitationibus tuis non est qui similis sit tibi adnuntiavi et locutus sum multiplicati sunt super numerum&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:georgia;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sacrificium et oblationem noluisti aures autem perfecisti mihi holocaustum et pro peccato non postulasti&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:georgia;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ut facerem voluntatem tuam Deus meus volui et legem tuam in medio cordis mei&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:georgia;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Adnuntiavi iustitiam in ecclesia magna ecce labia mea non prohibebo Domine tu scisti&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:georgia;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;Iustitiam tuam non abscondi in corde meo veritatem tuam et salutare tuum dixi non abscondi misericordiam tuam et veritatem tuam a concilio multo&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:georgia;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tu autem Domine ne longe facias miserationes tuas a me misericordia tua et veritas tua semper susceperunt me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:georgia;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Quoniam circumdederunt me mala quorum non est numerus conprehenderunt me iniquitates meae et non potui ut viderem multiplicatae sunt super capillos capitis mei et cor meum dereliquit me&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:georgia;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Conplaceat tibi Domine ut eruas me Domine ad adiuvandum me respice&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:georgia;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Confundantur et revereantur simul qui quaerunt animam meam ut auferant eam convertantur retrorsum et revereantur qui volunt mihi mala&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:georgia;" &gt;Ferant confestim confusionem suam qui dicunt mihi euge eu&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:georgia;" &gt;ge&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:georgia;" &gt;Exultent et laetentur super te omnes quaerentes te et dicant semper magnificetur Dominus qui diligunt salutare tuum&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; color: rgb(153, 51, 153);font-family:georgia;" &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ego autem mendicus sum et pauper Dominus sollicitus est mei adiutor meus et protector meus tu es Deus meus ne tardaveris&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/205223477026391848-7385980015287253910?l=hyde-chaptertwo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hyde-chaptertwo.blogspot.com/feeds/7385980015287253910/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=205223477026391848&amp;postID=7385980015287253910' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/205223477026391848/posts/default/7385980015287253910'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/205223477026391848/posts/default/7385980015287253910'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hyde-chaptertwo.blogspot.com/2008/12/advent.html' title='Advent'/><author><name>Hyde</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://h1.ripway.com/da119/avatarmermaid.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-205223477026391848.post-2352322175767653838</id><published>2008-12-04T20:09:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2008-12-04T20:16:05.503-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Sometimes...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;...I'm still in hard times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight is my annual &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;La Boh&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;ème&lt;/span&gt; and sugar cookie night. I'm making pumpkin bread too.  But N and I had a difficult talk this morning.  I cried.  In a weak attempt to compensate, I numbly I shopped for makeup and new bras and spent money I don't have.  Now I'm feeling guilty.  I skipped AA. I feel very tired and a little anesthetized.  This thing with the two of us will never be right, when it has always been "wrong" at its core.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the upside, NDN and Tamika are coming up here later to share my cookies and have a holiday pizza party.  My tree is already up and splendid.  Yesterday I danced around my apartment to cheesy Mariah Carey Christmas music.  Oh-- and I bought an outfit to wear to my birthday party.  It makes me feel sexy.  That's kind of new.  And it's kind of nice.  (&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I don't even need to wear a bra under the lace top, since my new breasts stand at salute!&lt;/span&gt;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even so...  (sigh).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;heart-break is heartbreak.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;love,&lt;br /&gt;h&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/205223477026391848-2352322175767653838?l=hyde-chaptertwo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hyde-chaptertwo.blogspot.com/feeds/2352322175767653838/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=205223477026391848&amp;postID=2352322175767653838' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/205223477026391848/posts/default/2352322175767653838'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/205223477026391848/posts/default/2352322175767653838'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hyde-chaptertwo.blogspot.com/2008/12/sometimes.html' title='Sometimes...'/><author><name>Hyde</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://h1.ripway.com/da119/avatarmermaid.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-205223477026391848.post-9154127917646196009</id><published>2008-11-30T08:54:00.001-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-30T08:56:43.127-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Good News!</title><content type='html'>I have been accepted to deliver a paper at the major Victorian Studies conference next year. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's going to be at Cambridge, UK in July!!!&lt;br /&gt;It was such a long shot that I wasn't even going to bother to apply. &lt;br /&gt;This is a big deal. &lt;br /&gt;I'm half excitement and half nerves. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yippee!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;love,&lt;br /&gt;h&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/205223477026391848-9154127917646196009?l=hyde-chaptertwo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hyde-chaptertwo.blogspot.com/feeds/9154127917646196009/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=205223477026391848&amp;postID=9154127917646196009' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/205223477026391848/posts/default/9154127917646196009'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/205223477026391848/posts/default/9154127917646196009'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hyde-chaptertwo.blogspot.com/2008/11/good-news.html' title='Good News!'/><author><name>Hyde</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://h1.ripway.com/da119/avatarmermaid.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-205223477026391848.post-2917208792376062282</id><published>2008-11-24T12:26:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-24T13:12:04.035-05:00</updated><title type='text'>On "The Other Side"</title><content type='html'>What a month...  I don't even know where to begin to recap it all.  The highlight of my life right now is watching my little niece grow.  She's just over six weeks old and still tiny (&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;probably just up to 8 lbs or so&lt;/span&gt;), but she is starting to get sweet little rolls on her neck and thighs.  I absolutely love her.  Starting the first week of December, I will have her all to myself for a few hours once a week, as BigSis is going to try to start seeing some private practice clients.  I only need to practice feeding her from a bottle a few times before she is handed over to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Halloween was fun, but curious.  I dressed up as Medusa, and my makeup and snake wig really rocked.  NDN, Tamika, Meema, Cherubino and I went to a party out in Brooklyn.  Meema is going through a divorce and Cherubino was reeling from a breakup.  Narc called me that night and said that he wanted to stop drinking and even wanted to go to AA with me.  It was strange and intense.  He later backed away from it, though, and is trying "controlled drinking" by only drinking beer.  A little bit of an emotional roller coaster for me, but I have detached myself from his health problems.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://calitreview.com/images/05.%20Kubin,%20Every%20Night%20We%20are%20Haunted%20by%20a%20Dream,%20ca.%201902-03.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: left; cursor: pointer; width: 300px; height: 373px;" src="http://calitreview.com/images/05.%20Kubin,%20Every%20Night%20We%20are%20Haunted%20by%20a%20Dream,%20ca.%201902-03.jpg" alt="" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;I saw a few operas this month-- my favorite of them, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Madama Butterfly. &lt;/span&gt;And Bezoukhoff and I went to an awesome exhibit at the &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Neue Galerie&lt;/span&gt;, featuring the work of Alfred Kubin.  His does creepy German symbolist drawings influenced by Goya and Blake.  The exhibit was appropriately ghoulish with a chiming, thudding grandfather clock, Kubin's death mask laid out on a sheath of white velvet, and his cloak, hat and cane suspended in a glass cube.  Over the course of the next week, I read his novel, &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The Other Side, &lt;/span&gt;on every subway ride I took.  It is one of the most bizarre (&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;and positively freakish) &lt;/span&gt;works of literature I have ever come across.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The election was clearly a high point of the month.  I had to wait on line for over two hours to vote, but it was obviously worth it.  My mom and I stayed on the phone for hours, watching the election returns come in.  The fact that I don't have to think about the possibility of Sarah Palin is an enormous relief.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My friend NiS came in from Paris for a few days early in November.  I met him and his friends at the Russian Vodka Room to celebrate his girlfriend's 30th birthday.  Narc was over at my place that night, but he opted not to come with me.  As such, I only stayed for a few hours before heading home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just over a week ago, I headed to Yale for the annual NAVSA conference (&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The North American Victorian Studies Association). &lt;/span&gt;It was exciting to see scholars whose names I had only come across in books.  Usually, they are nothing like how I pictured them to be.  On Friday night of that week, at the end of an insanely long day (&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I woke up at 5:00 AM to catch the 6:23 to New Haven!) &lt;/span&gt;I had dinner with my mom and my sisters and my cousin who was in town from Jerusalem.  I haven't seen her in over ten years.  It turns out that an evil aunt of mine spread some nasty rumors to turn my cousins against our strand of the family, but I hope that we were able to clean it all up and put it all to rest.  It was good to see her, but it also felt awkward.  I have changed so much since the last time we were in Israel, and even then, our relationship was founded on playing together as children.  She barely recognized me, given all of the weight that I lost, and that only made me feel a little more awkward.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the biggest event of all for me came this past week.  I have had such a crazy, busy week.  Last Monday I got observed while teaching my British History class.  I was really nervous about it, as I've never taught that material before and feel like half the time I'm covering for the fact that I don't know what I'm doing.  It turns out that my worries were unfounded, though, as I got a really awesome review and apparently, it appears that I &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;do &lt;/span&gt;know what I'm doing.  Then, on Tuesday I got new breasts.  Yes-- that's right.  I had my breasts done.  It's kind of the last thing I'd ever imagine myself to do, and I've had really mixed feelings about the whole thing, but since I lost all of that weight, my chest sort of deflated.  Surgery is never fun, and I was sore and twisted up for a few days afterwards, but I have to say-- I am in love with them now.  So far, I love having big breasts.  I feel kind of stupid about it, but whatever-- they are so perfect and round and sculpted and they came out just the right size.  Bottom line-- they feel natural and they look gorgeous, so I've decided to forget the fact that I've always thought of myself as "someone who would never get breast implants."  Instead, I'm going to just enjoy them.  They're still all bruised up and I still have the steri-strips over my incisions, but I couldn't be happier.  Next month I am getting even more plastic surgery-- on my stomach and my thighs, and then I will be all set to be a new, beautiful me with awesome breasts and a flat tummy-- just in time for my 30th birthday.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, enough going on about that.  I had to come back into the city on Thursday night, even though it was just two days post-Surgery, as my advisor had strongly recommended I meet a visiting scholar from UC Davis and he was heading back to California on Friday afternoon.  It was a tough night.  Narc slept over, although I had to stay elevated on a million pillows, popped a few percocets and woke up several times in the night, yelping in pain.  He was sweet and held my hand.  The next morning, the UC-Davis professor and I met for coffee up near Columbia, and even though I psyched myself out about the meeting, feeling inadequate for not having a developed and well articulated dissertation topic, the meeting was awesome.  He was so helpful to me and pointed me in some really useful directions.  And I didn't feel inadequate at all once the conversation started.  Even my  breasts behaved by not cramping up or sending shooting pains through my entire chest during our conversation.  Afterwards, B and I met at &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;The Heights, &lt;/span&gt;our old hangout, for Buffalo wings and patatas bravas.  By the time I made it back to Long Island that night, I was wiped out.  I really hadn't recovered yet and pushed myself pretty hard.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Saturday I had opera tickets, and I tried to attend with my mom, as I really wanted to see Berlioz's &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Damnation de Faust. &lt;/span&gt;It hasn't been performed at the Met since 1906!  Again-- it was too much for me, as I fell asleep a few times during the performance and felt a little feverish by the time my mom dropped me off back at home.  I really wanted to make it out to karaoke with Dan who is in town from Japan this week, but it really would have been pushing myself too far.  I'm hoping that we can figure out some sort of alternative plan.  Narc stayed over with me again on Saturday night and on Sunday morning, he and NDN and I went out for dim sum in Chinatown.  It's kind of a strange occurrence, but Narc and I are integrating our lives and our friends much better these days.  I saw a few of his friends briefly on Saturday.  (&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;They were all fascinated by my new breasts too-- a little awkward, but funny...and flattering&lt;/span&gt;.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After staying home and napping and resting for the rest of the afternoon yesterday, I went to Narc's to sleep and watch the 24 movie.  Woohoo! Jack Bauer is back!!!  Today is my first full day back at work, and I'm exhausted.  I've still been waking up at night intermittently from muscle cramps and spasms (&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;as the implants were placed under the muscle&lt;/span&gt;), and I think my body is just suffering general fatigue from the trauma of surgery.  It makes me worried about the surgery next month-- that one is going to be &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;much &lt;/span&gt;more intense and a much longer recovery.  I hate being taken out of the swing of my life.  It's so frustrating.  But whatever.  I won't complain.  It is such a miracle to have been able to transform the way I have physically and spiritually, and I will never mind having to make a few sacrifices to maintain it all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I still have to write my lesson plan on Britain and WWI, so I really can't spend much more time blogging right now.  I just didn't' want to let more than a month pass without an update.  I hope everyone out there has a fabulous Thanksgiving.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;love,&lt;br /&gt;h&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/205223477026391848-2917208792376062282?l=hyde-chaptertwo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hyde-chaptertwo.blogspot.com/feeds/2917208792376062282/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=205223477026391848&amp;postID=2917208792376062282' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/205223477026391848/posts/default/2917208792376062282'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/205223477026391848/posts/default/2917208792376062282'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hyde-chaptertwo.blogspot.com/2008/11/on-other-side.html' title='On &quot;The Other Side&quot;'/><author><name>Hyde</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://h1.ripway.com/da119/avatarmermaid.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-205223477026391848.post-7419856099841957155</id><published>2008-10-27T10:28:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-27T10:53:38.332-04:00</updated><title type='text'>In Bloom</title><content type='html'>I'm all in pink today and I love it!  I remember when I was little and I read &lt;em&gt;Anne of Green Gables, &lt;/em&gt;Anne wore a pink dress despite her red hair.  Well, my hair is red (-ish) and I feel just like Anne this morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a nice weekend, overall, although life is happening (&lt;em&gt;on life's terms!) &lt;/em&gt;and so even my nice weekend was infused with its fair share of anxiety.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Friday I spent the entire day with Sesame.  She slept in my arms for hours.  She is an angel.  &lt;em&gt;And &lt;/em&gt;she gained a little weight-- she put on 8 oz this week, so she's up to 5 lbs, 15 oz. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I need to schedule a medical procedure and am having some difficulty finding a date that will work with my teaching schedule.  That was the first source of stress.  My visit to the doctor on Saturday was a success, though.  NDN drove me there-- all the way out to Long Island-- as he had some sort of medical conference to attend.  After the appointment, I went back to my parents' house, spent a precious hour with my precious niece (&lt;em&gt;before BigSis and Bro-in-Law left for his parents), &lt;/em&gt;hung out with LilSis, laughing at the kitchen table, and then tried to help my mom figure out how to rearrange the furniture in my stepdad's office.  NDN came to pick me up and stayed for a while before our dreary ride home.  No-- it was not his company that was dreary, but rather, the weather and our choice of playlist.  There was a gray sky and big fat raindrops on the LIE.  We listened to a "suicide soundtrack" that we made two years ago-- all depressing songs depicting people about to off themselves. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Saturday night, my friend Drew came over.  We ordered in Chinese and just talked and talked.  Those gray raindrops had converted into a full blown thunderstorm.  My windows rattled and the sky lit up with some very dramatic lightning.  After Drew went home, Narc came by.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the Narc front, he had a tough week.  Despite his commitment (&lt;em&gt;made in June) &lt;/em&gt;not to drink, he went out three nights this past week, including Wednesday and Thursday in a row.  He ended up with several injuries and didn't feel good about it.  On Wednesday night, he called me drunk from &lt;em&gt;Bar &amp;amp; Books. &lt;/em&gt;He had been with CouchSleeper, but Couchy had gone home and so Narc was there alone.  I got worried, given his medical condition, and didn't sleep well for the rest of the night.  I called him several times and texted him several times the next day, but heard nothing back.  So, aside from my kick-ass voice lesson on Wednesday, I spent most of the day riddled with anxiety about something over which I have no control.  I finally heard from him at around 6:00 PM-- just as I was heading into AA.  He and his friends were out and he invited me to join.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To make a long story short- he ended up picking up a $890 tab for his friends and drinking himself into obliteration.  It's an unremarkable story except for the fact that it effects me differently.  I feel differently.  I worry more.  I see it as so much more destructive.  The further I am from being a "drinker" myself, the more &lt;em&gt;insane &lt;/em&gt;it looks to me, watching others ingest some sort of toxin that makes them unable to walk, talk, remember or make decisions.  WHY??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I went down to him on Friday and Narc stayed over at my place on Saturday night.  On Sunday afternoon, he headed home while I got a few hours of work done.  That evening, I headed out to a yoga class.  I had been invited by Narc's friend, the Jeweler, to join her for an invitation-only, kundalini practice in the penthouse apartment at the Trump World Center.  I have never, &lt;em&gt;ever, EVER &lt;/em&gt;seen an apartment like that one.  It was mind-blowing.  The yoga was pretty good too.  I had no experience with kundalini, so it was challenging and a little strange, but I liked the chanting.  There were only five women there, and we got to watch the sun set over Manhattan through enormous, floor to ceiling, wrap-around windows, while doing yoga.  Pretty cool.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I have to go teach in a few minutes, so I better get going-- am giving midterms today. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I just wanted to note-- I have made a few re-commitments to myself in order to keep myself sane:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Spend more nights sleeping in my own bed&lt;br /&gt;-Pray and meditate regularly&lt;br /&gt;-Take my vitamins and medications daily&lt;br /&gt;-Continue to work on my apartment project&lt;br /&gt;-Do my 10th step regularly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As such, I have a resentment I need to write out.  Nothing big-- just upset at my cousin who's in town from Jerusalem, but failed to give me or my sisters a call.  We haven't seen her in 10 years, and it's kind of a sensitive issue, as that Jerusalem-family is our only living connection to our father.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh well...  At least I have a tool to help me deal with the feelings.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hope you're all well out there!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lots of love,&lt;br /&gt;h&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/205223477026391848-7419856099841957155?l=hyde-chaptertwo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hyde-chaptertwo.blogspot.com/feeds/7419856099841957155/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=205223477026391848&amp;postID=7419856099841957155' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/205223477026391848/posts/default/7419856099841957155'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/205223477026391848/posts/default/7419856099841957155'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hyde-chaptertwo.blogspot.com/2008/10/in-bloom.html' title='In Bloom'/><author><name>Hyde</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://h1.ripway.com/da119/avatarmermaid.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-205223477026391848.post-6413351188949837710</id><published>2008-10-22T14:48:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-22T15:17:46.948-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Beautiful Necessity</title><content type='html'>I am planning an overhaul of my apartment. I am equipped with two things-- a copy of &lt;a href="http://store.apartmenttherapy.com/viewitem/books/at"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Apartment Therapy&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;em&gt; (an 8-step "home cure") &lt;/em&gt;and my Pre-Raphaelite imagination that wants to drown in William Morris patterns. Clearly, I am aware of the limitations of this dream, but it's a starting point, nonetheless.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So... that's what I'm thinking about today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It has been a busy week. On Friday I spent the day with Sesame, the new love of my life. BigSis and I took her to the doctor for a shot and a weigh-in. She was up to 5 lbs, 7 oz, and the doctor was pleased. On Saturday night, Narc and I went to see a production of the new "Woyzeck" at BAM. Nick Cave did the music, it got a decent review, and it was staged with flying trapeze artists and tubes of water. I was looking forward to it, but unfortunately, it sucked. Big time. Narc was pretty woozy that night, as well, as he had been out drinking the night before. He has barely had anything to drink since his blood clot scare back in June, so his tolerance is way down. He ended up with a gash on his shoulder and a bruise on his side, the size of the palm of my hand. Afterwards, we got takeout and lounged at his place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday I had coffee with Hammer at "the Siegel Diner." We had a good chat. I barely see her anymore. In fact, I barely see most of my friends anymore. I'm just too busy. I don't know when it happened-- when life snuck up on me like that-- or if it's just that I'm trying to keep active friendships going with way too many people. But sometimes, maintaining a social life is exhausting. Tonight I'm going to see some people from AA (&lt;em&gt;looking forward to catching up with Meema and Pixie!) &lt;/em&gt;and tomorrow I'm supposed to have dinner with Jake. On Friday, it's off for another day with Sesame and on Saturday I'm going to Long Island (&lt;em&gt;both for a doctor's appointment and to see my mom.) &lt;/em&gt;Oh-- and although I didn't report it when it happened, NDN and I welcomed Tamika into our neighborly "alliance." She was inducted on Thursday, October 16th at &lt;em&gt;Zarela. (The crab tostadas were yummmm!)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway-- it all leads me to one big, fat question: WHEN AM I GOING TO DO MY WRITING? It's stressing me out. Writing lesson plans for this British History class is sucking up so much of my time and energy that there's not much left for my paper-writing. Especially when you add in the hours I spend actually teaching, going to AA, working with my sponsee, taking my voice lessons, visiting my family, etc. I only spend the evenings with Narc-- when everything else is through-- but that takes away from my downtime at home. And with my dreams of "apartment therapy" in place, I need that time to putter in my house, to de-clutter and to dust.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is this post becoming one giant complaint? I didn't intend for it to come out that way. Actually-- life is good right now. Life is very good. I love the Fall. My cheeks feel rosy. I am in love with a new lip gloss; and I am obsessed with Rossetti's painting of "Pandora." What could be better?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.hutak.com/articles/uploaded_images/PandoraRossetti-792876.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="http://www.hutak.com/articles/uploaded_images/PandoraRossetti-792876.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt; Um... what else? I don't know. My hands are cold. I set up a Twitter account, hoping it might unblock my blogger's block. We'll see if it has any effect.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other night &lt;em&gt;Hud &lt;/em&gt;was on TV. Narc and I watched it, even though it kept us up until almost 3:00 AM. I love that movie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Hud: &lt;/strong&gt;Man like that sounds no better than a heel. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Alma&lt;/strong&gt;: Aren't you all? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Hud: &lt;/strong&gt;Honey, don't go shooting all the dogs 'cause one of 'em's got fleas.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Alma: &lt;/strong&gt;I was married to Ed for six years. Only thing he was ever good for was to scratch my back where I couldn't reach it.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Hud: &lt;/strong&gt;You still got that itch?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Alma: &lt;/strong&gt;Off and on.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Hud: &lt;/strong&gt;Well let me know when it gets to bothering you.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Question: How did Paul Newman manage to be so damn sparkling?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmm...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I have to teach again in a few, so I better go get my head in the game and go over my class notes. I hope you are all well out there!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lots of love,&lt;br /&gt;h&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/205223477026391848-6413351188949837710?l=hyde-chaptertwo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hyde-chaptertwo.blogspot.com/feeds/6413351188949837710/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=205223477026391848&amp;postID=6413351188949837710' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/205223477026391848/posts/default/6413351188949837710'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/205223477026391848/posts/default/6413351188949837710'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hyde-chaptertwo.blogspot.com/2008/10/beautiful-necessity.html' title='The Beautiful Necessity'/><author><name>Hyde</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://h1.ripway.com/da119/avatarmermaid.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-205223477026391848.post-5880396610877887661</id><published>2008-10-15T14:02:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-15T14:22:27.683-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Facade</title><content type='html'>I am drinking diet Mountain Dew... on the rocks.  There is something grossly unnatural about that.  The sun is out, but my hands are cold.  I'm tired and don't want to be reading about factory reform.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other night when I was out to dinner with Narc and his friends, something struck me-- many people talk themselves up and sell themselves with ease.  I can't seem to come by that skill.  In fact, it always surprises me when I see others doing it.  One woman at the table introduced herself as a jeweler.  It turns out that although she has an academic background in "European silver and gold," she has only just started taking classes in jewelry making.  I don't introduce myself as a "historian."  Maybe I should... maybe I am... But I tend to say that I'm a "grad student." &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was at a doctor's office with my mom a few weeks ago and mentioned that I'm on a semester schedule.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh, you're in college!" said the nurse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I just smiled and didn't say anything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"She TEACHES college!" my mom piped up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I felt "bad" about that for some reason.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Again-- at dinner on Sunday night, Narc was making some reference to Dante's &lt;em&gt;Inferno. &lt;/em&gt;To prove his point (&lt;em&gt;which was a rather ridiculous point), &lt;/em&gt;he insisted that he had read the &lt;em&gt;Inferno &lt;/em&gt;in the original Italian.  Everyone at the table nodded solemnly, as such a statement commanded immediate respect.  But I had to try hard not to roll my eyes.  Narc doesn't speak Italian! How could he say something like that and not expect to get caught?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later, back at his place, I called him out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You don't speak Italian," I pointed out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yes, but I read it in the original Italian.  In my edition it's printed side by side with the English."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No shit.  It's that way in my edition too.  But just because you physically read the Italian words, if you didn't understand them and translate them, I don't think it qualifies as having read it in the 'original Italian.'"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Of course it does," he said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The conversation began to teeter on an argument, and I didn't want to have one of those over something so trivial.  It wasn't even that I cared about the lie.  It just struck me as an incredible ability to effortlessly inflate himself.  Why can't I do that?  I don't even want to make things up!  I just want to be able to own what I actually &lt;em&gt;have &lt;/em&gt;achieved. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In any case, I really liked the Jeweler.   She remembered the Lalique exhibit at Cooper Hewitt that transformed me back in 1999; and she had read Ruskin's &lt;em&gt;Sesame &amp;amp; Lilies &lt;/em&gt;and Mary Wollstonecraft.  She invited me to a class with her yoga guru who apparently has a penthouse (&lt;em&gt;or something like it&lt;/em&gt;) in Trump Tower.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ugh... I hate the mouse on the computer here in the Adjunct office.  It get stuck makes me want to smash it into shards against the wall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok... back to dreary factories and abused children.  Have to get the lesson plan done in the next half hour...  Looking forward to tonight's debate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;love,&lt;br /&gt;h&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/205223477026391848-5880396610877887661?l=hyde-chaptertwo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hyde-chaptertwo.blogspot.com/feeds/5880396610877887661/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=205223477026391848&amp;postID=5880396610877887661' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/205223477026391848/posts/default/5880396610877887661'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/205223477026391848/posts/default/5880396610877887661'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hyde-chaptertwo.blogspot.com/2008/10/facade.html' title='The Facade'/><author><name>Hyde</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://h1.ripway.com/da119/avatarmermaid.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-205223477026391848.post-5651987266579635315</id><published>2008-10-13T20:50:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-13T21:13:36.766-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Sesame and Lilies</title><content type='html'>I can't believe it's been a month.  I don't know if I can even really call myself a blogger anymore.  But, in any case, I'm still here... I'm still alive.  I'm still figuring things out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The best and most important news is that BigSis had the baby!!!  Sesame (&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;as she will heretofore be known) &lt;/span&gt;was born a week ago today- a tiny little thing at five and a half pounds with a full head of black hair.  She has big. beautiful gray eyes and is the most perfect, amazing baby I could imagine.  I fell madly in love with her on first sight and so for the past week I've been with my family nearly every day.  I just can't stay away from my niece!  It helped that I had a few days off from teaching between the Jewish holidays and Columbus Day and all that.  But, it's back to work tomorrow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the Narc front, everything is calm-- so calm that there's hardly anything to report.  We had a "perfect" day two Fridays ago.  I wanted to blog about it, but...  Anyway, we started the day (&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;a twinkling Fall day on which I felt pretty in my clothes&lt;/span&gt;) at MoMA where I got to see Kirchner's "Street Scene" paintings, quite a sight after having only had access to muted reproductions.  The colors were electric and the brush strokes slashed me, but felt like feathers.  The whole effect was rather hallucinatory.  After that, we walked North through Central Park and had dinner at &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Sabarsky. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Then we browsed the book store before attending a lecture at the Met on London in the Jazz Age.  Finally, that night we went to see Bill Mahr's movie-- &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Religulous.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Meema was staying with me for a while, as she's going through some major transitions in her personal life.  Since she moved out, I've been with Narc nearly every night.  We've gone out with his friends, and that barrier seems to completely have come down.  It's strange that he integrates me into his life now, because I can't seem to integrate him into mine.  We were out for dinner last night with three of his friends.  There was a heated debate about whether or not we are entirely ruled by evolutionary instincts.  I don't know... I have a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach about the two of us.  Nothing dramatic or knotted or sick... just a little bitter taste that I can't seem to shake and an underlying anxiety that something is just wrong.  I don't know if it makes any sense that my niece should make any difference in all of this, but since she was born, I feel even more like I'm in a hole I have to squirm out of.  I really want to move on.  I know I've been saying that forever and haven't done it, but I have made some insanely huge changes in my life, so I have faith that this one is just next on the list.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What else...?  As I lost a lot of weight this year, I have been having a blast shopping for Fall clothes.  BigSis helped me pick out a gorgeous, gorgeous, gorgeous Calvin Klein winter coat.  I even bought a few pairs of high heels (&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;with Meema's help&lt;/span&gt;) and I've been practicing traipsing around the city (&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;on days in which my schedule requires minimal walking!).  &lt;/span&gt;Um... what else?  My sponsee and I "broke up," although I'm now working with another woman, so it all worked out.  I'm back to taking voice lessons and loving it.  Right now I'm just beginning to learn Tatiana's letter scene from &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Onegin &lt;/span&gt;and Sieglinde's narrative from &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Walkure.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Speaking of the opera, Anxious and I saw a phenomenal production of &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Salome &lt;/span&gt;on Saturday.  Karita Mattila got totally nude, there was a sudden, quite unexpected, passionate suicide,  and the libretto included references to rare items such as "turquoise that can make you see things that aren't there."  Awesome.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I had lunch with B and his wife "D." (&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;I'll have to call her that, as her previous name just isn't nice.) &lt;/span&gt;It was the best interaction I've yet to have with her.  I think she accepted the olive branch I extended when I offered my apartment for her (&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;co-ed) &lt;/span&gt;baby shower.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh-- I had a little drama that I neglected to write about when it happened.  Narc inadvertently met TT.  That was a little weird.  I would get into the whole story, but it was a few weeks ago and doesn't really seem to matter anymore at this point.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I'll try to post more often and I'll try to get back online and read everyone's blogs.  I've been gone for too long!  Part of it is that I have absolutely no down time these days.  I'm never home, and the afternoon time I have in between teaching (&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;when I used to do a lot of my blogging) &lt;/span&gt;is spent writing lesson plans for my British History class.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm turning 30 in a few months.  I think I'll be ready for it just in time...  :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;love,&lt;br /&gt;h&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/205223477026391848-5651987266579635315?l=hyde-chaptertwo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hyde-chaptertwo.blogspot.com/feeds/5651987266579635315/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=205223477026391848&amp;postID=5651987266579635315' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/205223477026391848/posts/default/5651987266579635315'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/205223477026391848/posts/default/5651987266579635315'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hyde-chaptertwo.blogspot.com/2008/10/sesame-and-lilies.html' title='Sesame and Lilies'/><author><name>Hyde</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://h1.ripway.com/da119/avatarmermaid.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-205223477026391848.post-1268229381789018497</id><published>2008-09-14T18:12:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-15T14:51:22.415-04:00</updated><title type='text'>The Moral Economy</title><content type='html'>Every day has been full. There's barely been a minute to pause! Yesterday I had brunch with an old high school friend, Farb. I hadn't seen her in about 12 years. We ate at &lt;span style="FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;Friend of a Farmer &lt;/span&gt;in Gramercy and then walked around Union Square. It was strange to see such a familiar face and to hear such a familiar voice grown and morphed and somehow changed from an 18 year old girl to a 31 year old woman overnight.  It was as if the entire past twelve years had lasted only one night, and everything that has happened to me in that time became, somehow, incidental.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Meema is staying at my house right now.  She's going through a divorce, but I'm proud of her for how strong she is.  When I got back from brunch, we chatted for a while.  I did all I could to put off writing my lecture on the English Enlightenment.  She bought me a bar of soap at a street fair.  It was lovely.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Saturday night, we watched &lt;em&gt;The Other Boleyn Girl &lt;/em&gt;and &lt;em&gt;Saturday Night Live. &lt;/em&gt;We both want to buy a "jar glove."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Saturday afternoon, Narc and I had dumplings before taking a stroll through Little Italy's San Gennaro festival.  Afterwards, we shared a coconut cupcake and got in a fight about postmodernism at a new cafe in Hammer's neighborhood.  Narc believes that the "palace of art" should be guarded.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last week I had my first voice lesson in quite some time.  I don't feel like myself when I'm not singing.  Something beautiful is on the horizon.  It comes with cold Fall air and layers of clothing and boots and singing lessons and hours in the library.  This time of year is such a relief.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night I caught up with Brick on the phone.  He's doing well.  I may have a new sponsee in AA.  She told me that she has 19 years sober but has never really worked the steps.  That kind of sobriety intimidates me, but I'm just going to trust that she came into my life for a reason.  I'm going to meet with her tomorrow after the meeting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I hope it's not taking on too much to have another sponsee.  I've been feeling pulled apart in a million directions-- by friends, by work, by family, by EVERYTHING!  I just don't have enough time anymore to do it and to do it right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In any case, I've been addicted to buying clothes lately. I can't afford it.  I'm also addicted to caffeine.  I bought one of those new "Garnier" eye de-puffers with caffeine in it.  I doubt it will work, but I just liked the idea of rolling a caffeine pen over the skin under my eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I should get back to work.  The differences between the British and the French Enlightenment are striking and explain a lot.  In the case of Britain, politics should affirm the cosmic harmony, integrating individual appetites into an equilibrium (through the invisible hand of the market and so on).  A new "moral economy" is founded on individualism and then Shaftesbury integrates pleasure into that moral frame.  Hedonism in ethics validates free economic activity.  It seems as if the English ideology leads into a sort of refined hedonism and enlightened "self-interest."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;BigSis called me this afternoon.  She said that she is 1 cm dilated and that the baby is dropped.  It's a few weeks before her original due date, but the baby is full term.  I absolutely can't wait!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well... that's it for now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;love,&lt;br /&gt;h&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/205223477026391848-1268229381789018497?l=hyde-chaptertwo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hyde-chaptertwo.blogspot.com/feeds/1268229381789018497/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=205223477026391848&amp;postID=1268229381789018497' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/205223477026391848/posts/default/1268229381789018497'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/205223477026391848/posts/default/1268229381789018497'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hyde-chaptertwo.blogspot.com/2008/09/moral-economy.html' title='The Moral Economy'/><author><name>Hyde</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://h1.ripway.com/da119/avatarmermaid.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-205223477026391848.post-2982626220705579335</id><published>2008-09-09T15:01:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-09T15:27:27.153-04:00</updated><title type='text'>In Gray</title><content type='html'>It's a gray and dreary day today.  Mr. Rochester is sitting at my feet.  I had to take him to the vet last week and he was &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;not &lt;/span&gt;happy about it.  I'm glad he's okay, although I need to bring him back to have his teeth cleaned.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really want to buy a pair of riding boots-- tall black boots with a stacked heel.  I'd wear them out on a day like today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been doing a lot of clothes shopping lately.  I'm going for an 18th century look.  A week or so ago, Hammer and I had an afternoon reunion and made our way through the shops of SoHo.  We had brunch at &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Cafe Colonial &lt;/span&gt;and then both bought colored skinny-jeans at &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Uniqlo&lt;/span&gt;.  She has already returned hers.  I tried mine on for Narc and he said they're ok, but I'm still thinking about it.  I also got a few tops at &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Anthropologie.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;I watched every night of both political conventions.  Giuliani made me want to puke all over myself.  I can't stand Sarah Palin.  It's so much aggravation that I don't want to think about it anymore, but the political season is just beginning.  I will want to move far away if Obama doesn't win.  Every time I eat arugula now, I think of myself as a latte-drinking liberal.  That only reminds me that I need to kick my caffeine addiction which has become markedly worse.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Other than that, I've just been doing a lot of school work and spending a lot of time with Narc.  We've been together almost every night.  We've watched many "Sex in the City" re-runs. CouchSleeper got robbed at gunpoint in his apartment and ended up crashing at Narc's for a few days.  Narc uploaded all of his "papers" onto some server and gave me the password in case of his demise.  I hope he's not planning on going anywhere...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The weekend before last, I went to the beach with my mom and LilSis.  It was a beautiful end to a tolerable summer-- the best summer I've had since 1999.  This past weekend, I met Meema and StarGazer for brunch in Long Island City.  We walked around the park behind the Pepsi Co. sign.  It was beautiful out.  I ate a prosciutto and mozzarella sandwich and bought a pair of false eyelashes.  There was arugula on my sandwich.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I'm sure there's much more to say, but I'm tired and need to figure out something to say about the Seven Year's War instead of figuring out what to blog about.  Tomorrow I'm teaching all day; on Thursday I'm meeting Hammer for coffee and then going to my voice lesson and AA.  If I can, I'll stop by St. Bart's for the 9/11 memorial service.  This weekend I may meet up with an old high school friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to get back into my old blogging routine.  The more I wrote, the easier it was to write.  Guess these things have their own rhythm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's all for now...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;love,&lt;br /&gt;h&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/205223477026391848-2982626220705579335?l=hyde-chaptertwo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hyde-chaptertwo.blogspot.com/feeds/2982626220705579335/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=205223477026391848&amp;postID=2982626220705579335' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/205223477026391848/posts/default/2982626220705579335'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/205223477026391848/posts/default/2982626220705579335'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hyde-chaptertwo.blogspot.com/2008/09/in-gray.html' title='In Gray'/><author><name>Hyde</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://h1.ripway.com/da119/avatarmermaid.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-205223477026391848.post-6485141397310769064</id><published>2008-08-26T11:17:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-26T11:17:51.114-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Happy News!</title><content type='html'>I've been told that inquiring minds want to know...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes!  NDN and Tamika are engaged!&lt;br /&gt;Congrats, guys!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;:)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;h&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/205223477026391848-6485141397310769064?l=hyde-chaptertwo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hyde-chaptertwo.blogspot.com/feeds/6485141397310769064/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=205223477026391848&amp;postID=6485141397310769064' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/205223477026391848/posts/default/6485141397310769064'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/205223477026391848/posts/default/6485141397310769064'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hyde-chaptertwo.blogspot.com/2008/08/happy-news.html' title='Happy News!'/><author><name>Hyde</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://h1.ripway.com/da119/avatarmermaid.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-205223477026391848.post-5897944895621171711</id><published>2008-08-25T10:44:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-25T10:52:01.092-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Falling Forward</title><content type='html'>Things have been busy around here!  Slowly but surely, I'm getting everything done.  NDN is just back from Colombia; Hammer is just back from Paris.  I took my French translation exam last week and am pretty sure I passed, although I haven't gotten the official results yet.  Fall is upon us!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anxious and I went shopping on Friday and it was great-- we found the hidden MAC Pro store and played in there for over an hour.  We also tried on a ton of stuff that we can't afford at Anthropologie.  I am still pursuing my dream of looking like a Pre-Raphaelite.  Later that night, I heard my sponsee's 5th step.  It took a long time, but was a rewarding experience.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Saturday I went to a barbecue out at my parent's house.  BigSis is so pregnant now that it's strange.  LilSis just celebrated her 1st wedding anniversary.  JBC's sisters were there and I bonded with them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday, Narc and I got dumplings in Chinatown and then I worked on my Fall syllabi.  I can't believe the new semester starts on Wednesday.  I sooooo wish I had another week to recover from summer teaching!  It's all work and no play for me today and tomorrow as I finish preparing.  Wednesday will be exhausting-- all day teaching and then Narc got us tickets to a NIN concert at the Meadowlands.  He's a big fan.  Me?  Not so much.  But, it will be an experience...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, that's it for now.  I have a new red lipstick for Fall, so I can't complain!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;love,&lt;br /&gt;h&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/205223477026391848-5897944895621171711?l=hyde-chaptertwo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hyde-chaptertwo.blogspot.com/feeds/5897944895621171711/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=205223477026391848&amp;postID=5897944895621171711' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/205223477026391848/posts/default/5897944895621171711'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/205223477026391848/posts/default/5897944895621171711'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hyde-chaptertwo.blogspot.com/2008/08/falling-forward.html' title='Falling Forward'/><author><name>Hyde</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://h1.ripway.com/da119/avatarmermaid.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-205223477026391848.post-1362875238234020158</id><published>2008-08-20T16:20:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-20T16:41:42.686-04:00</updated><title type='text'>What's Love Got To Do With It?</title><content type='html'>It's been an exhausting past few days.  Shorty's visit was great. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Earlier that evening, in a fit of anxiety, I sent Narc a text: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I'm sorry, &lt;/em&gt;I wrote. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;About two hours later, he wrote back:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Narc: &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;I'm sorry too.  Didn't want you to leave last night but thought it would be better for both of us.  Needed to be alone after our dinner at any rate.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Hyde:&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;em&gt;It's ok.  I ate my strawberries and cried it out and got sleep.  I was so overtired!  I don't want to make you unhappy.  I hope we're ok...  :)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Narc:&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;em&gt;Of course we're OK, though I do think we should really start to consider if we should continue sleeping together...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Hyde: &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;I agree.  If we really are "just friends," like you say, then we should act like it.  It's too confusing for me otherwise.  I will have to see, one step at a time, what feels right for me.  I still don't think I could handle you dating someone else.  but maybe I'll feel differently in a month or two if we really do just act like friends... I will certainly try.  I want to find a way to be in each other's lives pain-free...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Narc&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;: From what I hear seems like you'll be dating someone else before me hon...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Hyde: &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Who knows... but it's not something I really am ready for.  Anyway, I guess let's just take it one day at a time and try to communicate and I think we'll be fine.  I love you.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Narc: &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Yes, we shall see.  Hope you have fun on your evening out with your blog fan, love you.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Hyde: &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;:)  We're meeting at 8 in W Vill, so I better go get dressed.  Talk to you later...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Narc: &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;K. Can call later if you're not too tired.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In any case, it was interesting to meet Vin in person.  I met them near the Christopher Street Station and we barhopped a little-- from the &lt;em&gt;Fat Black Pussycat&lt;/em&gt; to &lt;em&gt;Marie's Crisis&lt;/em&gt; to the &lt;em&gt;Red Lion&lt;/em&gt;.  My friend Drew came along.  I had the feeling that if it had just been me and Shorty, we would have been able to gossip a lot more, but it was fun either way. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After she and Vin headed home, Drew and I grabbed a bite to eat and then went back to &lt;em&gt;Marie's &lt;/em&gt;for a little while.  We saw SingMan there-- a real blast from the past.  Too bad Hammer is in France so I couldn't text her!  I ended up going down to see Narc at around 3:00 AM.  And yes-- we ended up having sex.  Oops...  maybe... whatever.  I don't know anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Sunday I sat on his couch and we obliterated ourselves with television.  My shoe broke the night before, so I couldn't wander far.  We ended up ordering in takeout all day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The past few days I've felt run down.  I haven't been nearly as productive as I should have been and on Monday night I fell asleep at 9:30 PM.  NDN is off in Colombia, but called me with some big news.  Bezoukhoff is acting kind of weird and caused a mini-emotional drama for me, but maybe I'll get more into that later.  I was grateful to be back at my usual AA meeting last night.  Afterwards I had dinner with Drew and StarGazer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night I had a chance to catch up with Liu on the phone.  Later that night, I got a call from the Stallion!  It was a little unexpected, and the conversation was even more unexpected.  He told me that he thinks about me all the time-- that he can't stop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Um... yeah, we had some good times," I said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It always feels awkward for me with him.  We just don't "work" unless I'm wasted or high beyond belief.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm not just talking about the sex," he said.  "I think we really connected, H!  I think that we bonded at some sort of core level."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't want to tell him that I can't remember any of our conversations because I was always in a blackout.  For me it was always &lt;em&gt;only &lt;/em&gt;about the sex, and I was a different person then.  I am not the girl he slept with back then. And he didn't even know &lt;em&gt;her!  &lt;/em&gt;For him, I am a projection of everything that is lacking in his current relationship, put up on some sort of pedestal as what he &lt;em&gt;could &lt;/em&gt;have.  Apparently his girlfriend doesn't like to fuck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What are you saying?" I asked him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"In an ideal world, I'd tell Tiff that it's not working, she'd understand and I'd come to NY and we'd be together."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Wait... what?!?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Are you serious?" I half laughed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah... I think you and I would work.  I always think 'what if...'"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, you have a kid," I said.  "And I'm not the same person that I was.  And there's no point in thinking about things that way because it's not practical.  I need to move on and move forward in my life and find the right thing for me, you know?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He kept saying he was so glad that he called me and that he couldn't stop thinking about the way I looked standing outside of Barnes &amp;amp; Nobles the last time he was in town.  He told me to email him a picture that he could use to masturbate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Needless to say, I'm not planning on it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the whole conversation left me feeling a little empty and a little more cut off from everything around me and a little more confused about who I am and where I am going.  I watched a few episodes of &lt;em&gt;Oz &lt;/em&gt;and then fell asleep at around 2:00 AM.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I had an appointment with a new doctor.  There's some stuff going on with me medically and it's going to lead to some big bills.  I have to figure all of that out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In any case, that's it for now.  I'm off to meet B.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;love,&lt;br /&gt;h&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/205223477026391848-1362875238234020158?l=hyde-chaptertwo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hyde-chaptertwo.blogspot.com/feeds/1362875238234020158/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=205223477026391848&amp;postID=1362875238234020158' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/205223477026391848/posts/default/1362875238234020158'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/205223477026391848/posts/default/1362875238234020158'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hyde-chaptertwo.blogspot.com/2008/08/whats-love-got-to-do-with-it.html' title='What&apos;s Love Got To Do With It?'/><author><name>Hyde</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://h1.ripway.com/da119/avatarmermaid.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-205223477026391848.post-2677303343336828650</id><published>2008-08-16T10:29:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-16T11:44:25.121-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Over Dinner</title><content type='html'>Narc and I had a fight last night... Well, I don't know if it was really a "fight," but I left in tears.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My week had been going well. I stayed over Narc's on Wednesday night and then finished teaching that killer summer course on Thursday. I got stuck in a thunder storm that day, but almost didn't care. I have to take a French reading exam next week, so I've been reading short stories in French. I like reading short stories. It makes me feel a little cozy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later on that night, I caught up with NDN and Tamika. They left for Colombia yesterday for a nine day vacation. At around 11:00 I headed down to see Narc. We went to a midnight showing of "Mirrors." It was creepy and made me jump, but the script was just awful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I left his place relatively early the next morning to meet B for lunch and to watch "Tropic Thunder." There, I laughed my ass off. It's always good to laugh. Then I spent the rest of the afternoon watching the women's all-around competition in gymnastics. I somehow managed to get through the morning without having heard who took the gold the previous day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Narc sent me a text at around 4:30 asking if I wanted to go back down there for dinner. He wanted &lt;em&gt;katsu don&lt;/em&gt;. I agreed and almost didn't mind being stuck in the rain again while trying to grab a cab.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dinner was okay, but Narc was feeling bitter or self-pity or something. Several times he brought up people like Laurie or ModelChick or the Exhibitionist. He said he felt so bad for them, that they are heading into middle age and losing all of their market value and are going to end up old and alone. I told him that when he talks about people like that it's toxic to me. I told him that I don't and won't think of people as having commodity exchange value, and that I don't believe it's impossible for a woman to find love past 40. He told me that the rest of the world doesn't agree with me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"That's not true, Narc," I said. "It's a choice. You can choose to live in that materialistic shallow world or you can choose to make real connections with other people who don't see it all as a market place. Both ways are out there. You are choosing to see the world through one lens and I'm choosing another."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It's not about choosing," he said. "This is what my experience has shown me."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, my experience has shown me something else. I think you just pick people who keep proving your point to you, so you can be right in your cynical despair."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"That's bullshit," he said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later on, we were talking about wishes. I said I wished for a house on the ocean.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Tropical or northern?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Somewhere like Maine," I said. "I've always wanted to go to Maine."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"We should take a trip up there."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Wait-- what???&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You'd go to Maine with me?" I asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah, sure."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't say anything. But maybe it's why I later brought up something that I probably shouldn't have.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You wanna hear something funny?" I asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"My mom said that she wanted to have dinner with us-- you and me. I shut her down on that one right away, though. Can you imagine?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You and I have very different types of mothers," he said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I can't think of anything more awkward."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I wouldn't feel awkward," he smiled.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(&lt;em&gt;That's a lie!)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;"Well, I would..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Suddenly, I felt strange that I had brought it up-- that it made it sound like we were a couple-- I didn't want him to think that I was saying we are a "couple."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"She probably just wants to meet my friends," I added. "I mean, she knows most of my friends and she knows I spend a lot of time with you."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"She can't have met &lt;em&gt;all &lt;/em&gt;of your friends," he said. "What about Bezoukhoff? Has your mom had dinner with you and Bezoukhoff?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Actually-- yes. He came down to Maryland with my mom and me two years ago when I delivered a paper at that conference. Remember that? I can't believe that he actually came down. My mom adored him though. I don't know... maybe it wouldn't be so weird," I went on. "Maybe now that things are more 'normal' between you and me, it wouldn't be so strange-- like we kind of &lt;em&gt;are &lt;/em&gt;normal friends."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Things have always been normal for me, Hyde. &lt;em&gt;You're &lt;/em&gt;the one who felt differently about it."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That really hurt.  What was he saying?  That there has never been &lt;em&gt;anything &lt;/em&gt;between us?  That I've imagined the whole thing?  That he never had any feelings for me?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What? That's not true," I said, defensively.  "You've definitely changed the way you've acted towards me."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Probably," he said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I couldn't tell what he meant from his intonation.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"And anyway-- if things were always so &lt;em&gt;normal &lt;/em&gt;for you and this friendship was always so &lt;em&gt;normal, &lt;/em&gt;then why did you never invite me to anything?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What do you mean?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Come on, Narc! You know what I mean-- you've never invited me to anything ever. You've had plenty of parties."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well... you don't drink."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"That's bullshit. I drank for two years of this friendship. Your Oscar parties..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Those are only for 'movie people.'"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"That's not true. You've invited other girls to those. And your birthdays..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I never did anything for my birthday except this last one."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I know you went out for your 29th... you blogged about it!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, that was just a few friends."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Whatever." I stood up, as we had just finished paying the check. "I'm just angry now. I'm in a bad mood. I mean, I can't not think about it. I think about the fact that you didn't invite me to your birthday every single day. Every single day it crosses my mind!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I felt a burning feeling in my stomach-- almost as if I were going to throw up a ball of fire.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, I don't ever think about it," he said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah, I know," I muttered, bitterly. 'That's the whole point. You don't &lt;em&gt;ever &lt;/em&gt;think about it. You don't think about my feelings... EVER!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We headed outside and swung north towards the deli where he wanted to pick up some Ben &amp;amp; Jerry's.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I don't know... maybe I should just go home later."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Whatever," he said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was was walking a few paces ahead of me. Just then, as we were approaching &lt;em&gt;Nobu,&lt;/em&gt; I saw a small crowd of people around a car. Some were taking pictures. It looked like there had been some kind of car accident. But as we got closer and were just a few feet away, I saw that it was Tom Cruise and Katie Holmes and little Suri. It was kind of surreal. We walked right past them and through the photographers who were crowding the sidewalk.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the deli, Narc bought his ice cream and I got some strawberries. We barely spoke a word while walking back to his place. Once back there, I sat down on the bench in his living room and looked at my feet. I didn't really want to go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He got an umbrella and tossed it onto the pile of my stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Here," he said. "Take it on your way out."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Are you kicking me out?" I asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, yeah."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What? Are you serious?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I think I want to be alone tonight," he said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Really?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm just so sick of people judging me, Hyde! You're just the same as everyone else. You sit there judging me all the time-- apparently judging me when we're not even together! You and my mom would probably get along just great-- you both apparently think I'm an awful person."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I never said you were an awful person!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I was starting to cry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"That's not what I said. I'm not judging you. I'm just saying that my feelings were hurt."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Maybe I should just get rid of you-- just get rid of everyone. Start over from a total zero! You think that I bring pain into my own life. My fucking, asshole therapist says the same thing and blames me. Sorry I don't have a loving mom like &lt;em&gt;you &lt;/em&gt;and tons of friends like &lt;em&gt;you &lt;/em&gt;and some wonderful, loving therapist like &lt;em&gt;you!&lt;/em&gt;"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was kind of dumbfounded by this attack and felt like I had to go on the defense.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm not trying to judge you," I repeated through my sobs. "And I'm sorry if I've been passive aggressive. I just have hurt feelings and can't get rid of it and don't know where to put it and just want to hear you say 'I'm sorry I hurt you.'"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You didn't hurt me," he said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;(Did he misunderstand what I had just said?)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You didn't hurt me, but I'm fucking sick of this shit! All of your snide little remarks-- telling me that you would &lt;em&gt;never &lt;/em&gt;consider having dinner with me and your mom-- like I'm so fucking awful!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;That really surprised me.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What? That's not what I meant! The reason it would be awkward to have dinner with my mom is not because you're awful. It's because our relationship is so undefined and so confusing. And presenting it to my mom would beg to define it. And I just brought it up to you because I thought that maybe you would share that with me -- that it's confusing... that you and I are going through that together."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"It's &lt;em&gt;not &lt;/em&gt;confusing," he said, flatly. "You're the only one who's confused."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You're not confused?!" I asked, incredulously.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"No. I'm not. I know exactly how I feel and I have never been confused."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I don't sleep with my other friends, Narc!" I shouted at him, through my torrents of tears.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"So, maybe we shouldn't sleep together. That's what I suggested a few months ago, but you said no-- that the only way we could stay friends is if we still sleep together."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;What?? Is that what happened? &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was so fucking tired and really felt like I was losing my mind.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You really want me to leave?" I asked, meekly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yes. Yes, I do."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, can I at least have five minutes to get myself together?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He went into his bedroom and I went into the bathroom and heaved and sobbed and tried not to over-oxygenate, although I felt my face tingling and my head felt hot and dizzy. I washed my face and counted to 100 and then got up to collect my things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Okay, I guess I'm going," I said, leaning in the doorway to his bedroom.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Okay."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Can I at least have a hug?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He came over to give me a hug and I clung to him as tightly as I could. He held me like that for three or four minutes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You really want me to leave?" I whispered.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yes, hon. Go home and get some sleep. You're overtired. And I want to be alone."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I turned and picked up my bag and the umbrella without saying a word. And I cried the whole way home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway, I woke up this morning with a headache. I don't know what that was about, last night, except that this relationship is untenable and it has to give at some point. I'm tired and a little depressed, though and I don't really want to get out of bed. I'm going to try to get on my exercise bike and to do a little house cleaning today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The good news is that Shorty is in town and I have plans to meet up with her and a friend of hers tonight. So-- something to look forward to at the end of the day!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's it for now...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;love,&lt;br /&gt;h&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/205223477026391848-2677303343336828650?l=hyde-chaptertwo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hyde-chaptertwo.blogspot.com/feeds/2677303343336828650/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=205223477026391848&amp;postID=2677303343336828650' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/205223477026391848/posts/default/2677303343336828650'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/205223477026391848/posts/default/2677303343336828650'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hyde-chaptertwo.blogspot.com/2008/08/over-dinner.html' title='Over Dinner'/><author><name>Hyde</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://h1.ripway.com/da119/avatarmermaid.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-205223477026391848.post-1559680299062183559</id><published>2008-08-13T13:24:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-13T14:11:44.190-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Encounters</title><content type='html'>Leave it to me to start a new blog and then not post anything!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been busy...  Last week was filled with doctor's appointments and visiting the nutritionist regarding my ongoing weight loss.  It seems that I'm healthy and it all checks out and I've made great progress.  I bumped into the sister of one of NDN's best friends in the waiting room for my doctor and we exchanged numbers.  I have to give her a call one of these days...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Wednesday I ended up on another inadvertent date with DC-- the same guy I stumbled into a date with a few weeks ago.  We went out to the same diner after class and once again, I swooped in to pay for my half of the check.  Yes--despite the fact that the last time I did that he called to "apologize" for it half an hour after we had parted ways!  In any case, this "date" was pretty much the same as the last-- I felt awkward and a little guilty for misleading him and a little guilty for not being attracted to him.  He looked like he was struggling to keep the flow of the evening going and to keep conversation up.  I was glad when it was over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;True to form, about half an hour after I got home, he rang me up.  I didn't answer this time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Um, Hyde... it's DC..." he said.  "Just give me a call back when you can.  I want to ask you something."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't return his call that night.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The next morning, I woke up at around 10:30 AM and saw I had missed &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;another &lt;/span&gt;call from him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Hyde, it's DC again.  Just wanted to ask you a question if you could give me a call back."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was scheduled to speak at a meeting that afternoon and didn't want to walk into that with this unresolved awkwardness hanging over my head, so I sucked it up and called him back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"What's up?" I asked, as cheerfully as I could muster.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Um... Well, I had a really nice time the other night... I mean, last night.  And I was wondering if you wanted to go out to dinner with me-- not to a diner but to someplace nicer."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now I felt really guilty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"You mean... like a date?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yes-- a date."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Um... Well..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now it was my turn to act like an awkward fourth grader.  I'm so, so, so, so bad at this-- I can never say "no" to anyone.  But I'm not into this guy.  I don't &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;have &lt;/span&gt;to go out with someone I'm not attracted to, right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Well, I enjoy spending time with you," I began. "But... Um... I'm really not available for that right now.  I mean-- I don't want to mislead you or anything."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Why can't I just say "no" plain and simple?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;In any case, as much as it made me feel like an incompetent adolescent, I think it's good practice for me.  I have to learn how to maneuver in the dating world at some time-- without the lubrication of alcohol and my fake "Mr. Hyde" persona, that is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Thursday, after speaking at that meeting and teaching my class, I headed over to &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Playwright's &lt;/span&gt;to meet some of my fellow historians for karaoke.  Bezoukhoff and his new woman, Medici, were there.  I had a really good time.  And get this-- I met &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;another &lt;/span&gt;tattooed timpani player!  It's the same bar where I met the last one.  Weird, right?  I also bumped into some friends of Anxious, which was kind of random.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Friday I finally got to see B!  He's back from the Philippines after having been away for about three weeks.  We met for lunch on the Upper East Side.  Afterwards, I caught up with NDN back at my place, and then headed down to Narc's.  We watched the opening ceremony of the Olympics.  I have a lot of thoughts about all that, but don't feel like getting into all of it right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday morning I was booked to speak at two meetings in a row-- the first at 9:00 AM.  I was absolutely exhausted.  For the third or fourth night in a row I had only slept about five hours.  It was good to see my friends at that first meeting though-- StarGazer and Meema and Slope, who I haven't seen in months!  At the second meeting, there was a really crazy woman who said that she was slapped across the face at my home group.  I have trouble believing that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm sorry that happened to you," was all that I could say to her about that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Later in the afternoon, I went back downtown to Narc's.  He was just getting up.  We had plans to go to a magic show at 5:00-- he got the tickets.  Before we went there, we wandered around the West Village and did a little shopping.  We passed a crystal shop and both wanted to look around but were out of time.  So, we decided to go back after the show.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The magic show was more "mentalism" than magic.  It was kind of fun.  Narc got called up onto the stage as the very first "volunteer."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Afterwards, we went back to the crystal shop and both bought crystals-- I got an aqua aura pendant and he bought rose quartz, a piece of lapis and a lemurian seed crystal (&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;which I'm not sure I entirely "believe" in.) &lt;/span&gt;After that, I had the sudden urge to get a tattoo, but we were both starving.  We walked towards Union Square and stopped in the Petco there because they had kittens and I wanted to see them.  The strangest thing happened-- I saw two girls (&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;looking at snakes) &lt;/span&gt;with gratingly familiar voices.  A few weeks ago &lt;a href="http://hyderesurrected.blogspot.com/2008/07/im-still-here.html"&gt;when I went out to Brighton Beach&lt;/a&gt; to see Anxious, there was a really annoying group of loud-mouthed people next to me on the subway.  One of them spilled water and some of it got on my dress.  Well-- the two girls in Petco were the same girls from the subway.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Were you guys on the Q train a few weeks back going to the beach?" I asked.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah, why?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Do you remember you got water on a girl reading her book?  Well, that was me."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Oh my god!" they exclaimed, as if we knew each other.  "How ARE you?  Did you have fun that day, sweetheart?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah, it was fine."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went back to find Narc who was contemplating buying a Beta fish. (&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;He didn't).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;We ate dinner that night at &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Angelo &amp;amp; Maxi's &lt;/span&gt;and ordered too much food and saw Michael Phelp's racing on the screen above the bar, even though I wanted to wait until we got home to watch the games recorded.  I still wanted to get that tattoo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had promised BigSis' friend AGrub that the next time I went for a tattoo I would call him (&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;as he is strangely fascinated but to chicken to get one himself), &lt;/span&gt;and so I sent him at text.  Narc and I walked over to St. Mark's and AGrub met us there at around 11:00 PM.  He was just leaving work!  I swear, those corporate lawyers have it rough...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I picked out my tattoo and gritted my teeth and squeezed Narc's hand.  It hurt like hell, as it's on the tendon on the back of my left ankle.  Afterwards, we went to Ben &amp;amp; Jerry's.  But as I'm off sugar, I had to have some mediocre tasting ice cream made with splenda and felt sick after eating it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Back at his place, we watched some more Olympics and I tried not to feel too sick and then we finally went to bed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Sunday I woke up before him, as I'm just used to getting up early these days.  I went to Duane Reade to get the right kind of moisturizer for my tattoo.  Then I got some coffee and sat down at his computer to do a little work.  When he woke up, he asked if I wanted to go for brunch with his friend Steve and his boyfriend.  We met them at &lt;a href="http://www.perillanyc.com/index.php?page=gallery"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Perilla&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt; in the West Village.  It was a nice brunch.  I really like Steve.  I got to talk to him a lot when Narc first went back into the hospital last month.  It did feel strange though, to feel like a "couple" with him.  Being out with people I don't know that well, in that context, it felt different from how it feels when it's just me and him.   Ugh.  It fucks with my head.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In any case, after brunch, we resumed shopping.  He wanted to go to the MoMa design shop.  It was raining out.  I bought a new journal at &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Kate's Paperie&lt;/span&gt;.  We ended up back at his place at around 5:30 PM.  I tried to get a little work done while he made us dinner.  Then we ate and watched more Olympics.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Monday I left there early so that I could get some more work done before therapy.  That evening I met with my sponsee (&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;who is struggling to get through her 4th step) &lt;/span&gt;and then went to yoga with my friend Drew.  I bumped into another girl that I know in the yoga class.  We agreed that we should get coffee sometime and try to coordinate doing more yoga together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday I had to go out to Brooklyn to fill out some paperwork for my fall teaching assignment.  It took a lot longer than I  expected.  Plus, I hadn't eaten breakfast, so by the time i left there (&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;at around 2:30 PM&lt;/span&gt;), I was ready to pass out.  I got home just in time to eat something, finish up my lesson plan (&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;on Postmodernism and Post-structuralism and Deconstruction-- God knows how I managed to teach a class on all that!) &lt;/span&gt;and headed off to teach.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After class last night, I had dinner with Jake.  He just broke up with his girlfriend of five years and moved into his own place about 20 blocks north of where I live.  We had delicious kimchi tofu soup at &lt;a href="http://www.chodanggolny.com/"&gt;Cho Dang Gol&lt;/a&gt; on 35th street.  It was soooo good! He walked me home afterwards, I watched the women's gymnastics, and finally collapsed to sleep at around 2:30 AM.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today I'm stuck at home waiting for the cable technician.  Narc wants to go see &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Tropic Thunder &lt;/span&gt;later.  I'm trying to clean out my hall closet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a lot more that I've been thinking about... about life, about relationships, etc.  But I just don't have it in me to jump into all of that.  So, I guess this kind of "events" update will have to do for now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ok... now off to read what everyone else is up to out there in the blog-o-sphere!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;love,&lt;br /&gt;h&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/205223477026391848-1559680299062183559?l=hyde-chaptertwo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hyde-chaptertwo.blogspot.com/feeds/1559680299062183559/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=205223477026391848&amp;postID=1559680299062183559' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/205223477026391848/posts/default/1559680299062183559'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/205223477026391848/posts/default/1559680299062183559'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hyde-chaptertwo.blogspot.com/2008/08/encounters.html' title='Encounters'/><author><name>Hyde</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://h1.ripway.com/da119/avatarmermaid.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-205223477026391848.post-7656910003631117221</id><published>2008-08-04T18:38:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-04T18:38:53.984-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Starting over (again)...</title><content type='html'>I suppose I'm tired of looking at things in black.  So...something else!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;love,&lt;br /&gt;h&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/205223477026391848-7656910003631117221?l=hyde-chaptertwo.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://hyde-chaptertwo.blogspot.com/feeds/7656910003631117221/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=205223477026391848&amp;postID=7656910003631117221' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/205223477026391848/posts/default/7656910003631117221'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/205223477026391848/posts/default/7656910003631117221'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://hyde-chaptertwo.blogspot.com/2008/08/starting-over-again.html' title='Starting over (again)...'/><author><name>Hyde</name><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='32' height='32' src='http://h1.ripway.com/da119/avatarmermaid.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry></feed>
