They know your secrets and You know Theirs

...courtesy of Beck. Good song.

I love my little Nano. I've named it Billie. It's not very interesting to anyone else how I got the name, but think a long stream of consciousness and far too much thought put into it.

Yesterday still turned out great. I went after work (after getting out at a reasonable hour) over to Dru's. I finished the follow-up to A Million Little Pieces (READ IT), My Friend Leonard (READ IT). And Dru had given me The Plot Against America, but that was done as well, so I went two whole days without something to read on the train. Lots of staring out the window at...well, unless you're going over a bridge...a whole lotta nothing. I can't seem to read enough. But I figure there are far worse things I could be doing. Anyway, so I went to drop that stuff off for him and pick of The Secret Life of Bees. We'll see how it goes.

As per usual, I wind up hanging with Dru for a while. Here's the part where I love Dru more than those other BOYS OF DOOM: Dru is not afraid to indulge the stupid little child in him. I can't seem to NOT indulge the stupid little child in me. After discussing our various reading choices and his upcoming tour...

"Ummm...what do you want to do?"

Any of the others would probably turn on the TV.

We put on music and decided to write limericks and haikus and put them as comments on people's MySpace profiles. We get goofy and silly and take it far too seriously, with edits and input and whatnot. I love that boy. We always come up with a thousand ideas that we'll probably never get to, but there's this script he had started with Sleazy that he thinks we could finish and do it right. Hells, yeah. I'm down for that.

Before I know it, it's 11pm. And you know what that means--Daily Show. Well, hell, it's getting a little late. And then there's the Colbert Report. Shit. Past midnight. Looks like I'm taking a cab home (I really shouldn't spend the money with the holidays coming up and funds being low from finally crawling out from debt). But whatever. I'm in a very happy place. Then the South Park season finale. Oh, hell. I guess I'm staying till 12:30.

The other boys show up somewhere in the start of South Park. They had a studio session in Brooklyn. They look cold and drained. Sleazy seems pissed that we encouraged his girlfriend to go to work. Whatever, Sleazy. I, once again excited to have a fresh audience, bust out Billie for everyone to "Oooh" and "Ahhh" over. This thing is so like my child it's hilarious.

"Why, I just think it's the cutest and smartest little thing on the whole planet!"

Junebug indulges me, holds it, acts impressed. He wins points there. Sleazy sits at the computer and I hold it out to him. He brushes his arm away and says, "Yeah, I've seem them."

Honestly. That boy is such a killjoy. I have absolutely no clue why I ever dated him. He has absolutely no sense of whimsy. Kind of sad, really.

Upon thinking about it, it's been about (and maybe exactly, I'd have to check LiveJournal and I just don't care enough) a year since we broke up. I chuckle at how distraught I was over the whole thing. You can look in the archives in here and see for yourself. But man, beyond decent sex, I was always on my tip-toes around him, wondering if I was proving myself to be "cool" enough for him.

You know what? I'm not. I'm a lot of things--some wonderful, some dubious...but I will never be cool. And I'm quite comfortable with that. The man who truly loves me will love me because I'm nerdy and awkward and I like to spend my evenings with friends doing stupid things like writing haikus and limericks. And if I get so much as a MOLE that excites me, he'll indulge me there, too.

So anyway, poo to him. Billie's the coolest thing I've gotten in a long time, a sheer guilty indulgence gift, but damnit, I've earned it and as soon as I put some music on it today and pressed "Shuffle," I had no idea how I functioned without one of these guys. Especially with my job. It's been a very pleasant day. Much easier to handle with a nice mix and not having to switch CDs and all.

A snow storm is moving in tonight. Winter has come earlier this year than last, much to my chagrin, but it IS December, I guess. Time to brace myself for 3 months of my hair standing on end and shivers and blankets and layers and...other cold stuff.

And then it should be time enough to start bitching about the heat.

All in good time, my friends. All in good time.

Office Christmas party tomorrow. I hope to God it's as interesting as I've built it up in my head to be.

If it is, you'll be the first to know.