A Day in the Life

Is it wrong that we haven't been together in almost a year, I'm happy with someone else, and yet now I miss him more than ever?

Is it the idiosyncrasies? What IS that?

I'm back

Broken hearts reign again

Gather Ye Law Clerks While Ye May...

OK, kids, everybody think real hard.

Send some positive chi.

My sister takes the Bar Exam tomorrow. I hope it goes well, because in studying for it, she may have lost her mind a little.

Or more than all of us already had. Us Taylor women never started out with great odds in the mental health category.

And now, I'm getting a little visit from Swetus. Just keep holding me, baby, that's all you can do.

Metron Uses His "Inside" Voice

That's odd, Lady-Preaching-on-The-Subway, my God is telling me to tell you to shut the fuck up and let people commute in peace.

Earth Girls are Easy, Too

I could start out with something really cliche, something along the lines of:

Relationships are hard.

But I won't, for several reasons.

1) That's so done, I hate trite advice or tragically overused phrases [I like to take normal phrases and tragically overuse them myself]

2)It's bullshit. Relationships are actually quite easy. You go along your merry way and if everything's perfect, everything's perfect. And if it turns not-perfect, someone is either worth it or not. The rest of it gets complicated, but you're either in it or not.

He's worth it.

Plus, I'd rather just blame Ghostrunner for it all, anyway. No, they didn't actually DO anything, so Abby, you don't have to come to New York and kill anyone [though feel free to once you're done with the bar exam], but they were an impetus to a sad evening.

Turns out, Swetus doesn't like going to dive bars and seeing my garage-bands play.

It doesn't sound like much of an issue, and for the most part it's not, but it is rough for someone like me whose social life virtually doesn't exist without these elements. And he had come with me to Sharon's burlesque and Conor's band and Jeremy's band and all these things without saying a word. And finally, before a Glasshouse show, he revealed to me that he hates doing it. He had been coming with me because he wanted to be with me and wanted to impress me. Which is sweet, but I certainly wouldn't have kept inviting him or dragging him without knowing such things. It's for several reasons, one of them being cover charges, which suck but are a necessary evil in my opinion.

It was only an issue to me because I didn't want him NOT want to go because of the money, because that's out-of-control cheap and because the show I wanted to go to last night was Ghostrunner. I don't need him by my side to go see Sharon. In fact, though I find his blush cute, I could palpably sense his weirdedoutness at seeing my close friend take her clothes off. I don't mind, and Sharon doesn't either, as long as I HOOTIE HOO loud enough for 10 people, which I have no problem doing.

I also don't think you HAVE to do everything together as a couple. For a while, Swetus was playing kickball on Sundays [having it out in Williamsburg eventually did that in, since it is the biggest pain in the ass to get to from our place] and I encouraged it because we should have activities that we enjoy without each other and I've had the bellydance thing going for a while. And I've spent 24 years never taking another person's schedule into account before, so I'm a fairly independent girl. Not that I have since we've been together, but I've never been one of those people who felt awkward about going out alone, eating alone, seeing movies alone. I don't consider it a bad thing.

But this one I needed him there for. There were going to be people there who would make me feel weird. And these are hipsters, so it's all in a passive-aggressive fashion, but I could see it: The wild-flailing dancing and me standing uncomfortably in the corner with my booze wondering why I had even shown up the first place. The trouble will always be that I really happen to like their music, but sadly, that particular mixture of people is somewhat toxic to me, or potentially at least. And having him by my side would allow me to enjoy the music and remind myself of how far I've come and what I'm not willing to tolerate as a person. On a cheesy note, when I rest my head on his chest, I'm convinced I'm in the safest place in the world. I'm protected. We are the Black Box of emotional plane crashes.

But Swetus, being a Zen Buddha and never affected or tormented like me didn't see what my deal was or what a minefield I wanted to knowingly enter. He just saw his girlfriend, who had promised not to drag him to any more dive bars to watch loud music he's not sure he'll like [he has old man's ear, they're really sensitive and loud noises cause him considerable discomfort], pout insufferably when he declined the invitation to go see her ex-boyfriend's, ex-disaster's hipster band play with an absurd $8 cover charge. He couldn't see what I was so upset about. And it's my fault because I didn't tell him. But I got very sad about it all anyway.

To me, it was a bigger issue of how I spend my time. Virtually all of my friends here are artists in some form or fashion. And seeing as how I'm without my actual family here, they are my family, and so much of my social time is spent going out to obscure dive bars in the Lower East Side or Coney Island or the Moon to go see their big gig/burlesque show/ puppetry exhibition/ vagina showcase/ art installation. I really love doing this. Well, maybe not the vagina showcase, unless that particular friend's vagina had gone through a really tough time and this was a triumphant return of sorts. Although, I don't really know if I want to see my friend's vagina that's "been through a tough time." So scratch that. Minus a vagina showcase, I try to go as often as possible to support my friends. And it's only sad because while I don't NEED my boyfriend there all the time with me, in a perfect world he would enjoy that kind of stuff too. But he doesn't.

And while I realize there are a bazillion things we do together that we enjoy, that our natures complement each other, that he really enjoys my friends' company, it does make me sad that he doesn't enjoy THAT part because while not my essence, it is a big part of who I am.

But before I got too sad, I realized if my biggest problem with my boyfriend is that he hates cover charges and loud music, I don't have it so bad after all.

So we're compromising, I'm being more upfront about when I need his emotional-support and presence at some things, and he's willing to suck it up and pay $8 on occasion to make sure I don't meltdown or whatnot. And, I won't lie, I hope as he gets to know my friends more and sees the amazing things they do and lives they have, whether he likes what it is or not, he'll want to come out and support them, too. It might be a pipe dream on that one, $8 still makes him cringe, but a girl can dream. And I always work best with a goal in mind.

But he's worth it. So in the end, it's really easy.

Leftovers From My Brain

1--I just sighed and then said "Oh, sigh." ????

2--Carrie's tip for Surviving Summer: Stay inside.

3--If you are a homeless dude, and you typically stick to the same subway line to do your panhandling, having several new shirts may not endear you to frequent riders. Also, I won't give you money just because you yell "I need money." Me too, and it doesn't work for me when I yell it. Now, those kids that dance or even if you play a crappy kazoo, I at least feel ok about giving you money because you are providing a service. A service someone somewhere would pay for. Except for crappy beat poets. I just can't give you money for rhyming "It's not Hollywood/It's the hood" [copyright 2006--some dude on the R train]. I just can't, maybe someone else can.

4--Hm, on the note of homeless rants [and I suppose I'm going straight to Hell for...well, a multitude of reasons, but knocking the homeless must be high on the list--you gotta understand, in New York, like any other major city, it is a constant bombardment--if I gave money to everyone, then I'D have to panhandle as well--it's a vicious circle and I believe there are rules to this game] But there's been this new trend for people to approach you with notecards that ask you for money, in case you are reading or listening to your iPod. I guess they're trying to be considerate, but to me, this is a clear indication that I don't want to be bothered! So handing a card to me is just a waste of paper, because now I doubly resent the intrusion.

5--In case you had forgotten in the past two seconds, it's hot. And yes, it is hotter in Texas. But Texas has everything A/Ced. New York? Not so much. The subway is virtually unbearable midday. So I'll refer you to #2. Stay home.

6--Spencer and I found the Holy Grail of New York real estate. A rent-stabilized apartment. I'm pretty sure the Easter Bunny and Santa Claus lived there originally, but needed more space so the Tooth Fairy could move in. Now it's just time for another hellish move and all will be right in the world.

7--Swetus is on his way here to visit with me while I have to wait for work. Who knows how long of a night it will be here, but I really think my firm should consider those of us who get most of our work in the evenings to be considered the Night Shift and allowed to come in at like 3pm. Night-crawler paralegals are soooooo going to be in next season.

8--On that note, yup, still love him. His feet twitch in his sleep.

9--Cheese will make the Apocalypse easier to swallow. Someone let Hezbollah know.

Blargh. Stupid Tuesdays.

Carry on.

It's Official

I can die happy now.