Thursday night, Citrine held PRE, their after work happy hour launch party. They were serving complimentary specialty cocktails from 6-8pm so I invited Reba and Cate to join me for some girlie free drinking.
My date, who had yet to touch my elbow, two dates in was meeting me there post work.
While the girls were getting refills, a group of three guys with suspiciously fake names sidled up to me and make conversation. Forbes, the cutest and friendliest of the group, complimented my smile while Basil and Davien mostly mocked me--perhaps a negging attempt?
Over the course of the evening Forbes and I made faces at each other across the bar and found excuses to bump into one another. My date's arrival altered nothing.
As I craftily walked over to the edge of the bar where Forbes stood to get my last refill, my date close behind me, Forbes put his arm around my waist and asked if he could give me his number. I pointed to his charging blackberry and said I was amenable to giving him mine. My date, at this point, feigned ignorance and went back to stand far from the bar and chat with Cate.
F came by to say bye before he left the place. Shortly thereafter my date and I headed to Slate for a few drinks he paid for--surprising since shortly thereafter he explained to me that he was cheap citing as an example his frequent arguments with his roomie/older bro for purchasing groceries that go bad. I frowned but tried to keep a judgement free face. Next up he name dropped his mom half a dozen times. I had long begun ignoring his similarities to Shiv (except Shiv is NOT cheap) but his mannerisms and expressions in conjunction with Mommy Love pushed it over the edge. I knew then and there I couldn't see him again.
As I was about to lament this reality, I was the happy recipient of texts from Forbes. His persistence and flirtexting were a pleasant salve to the death of this non-relationship. Took two dates but best to know it's not going anywhere before he actually tried to touch my elbow. Sigh.
May 31, 2009
Sandal Scandal
A few weeks ago, Z and I were headed to watch the 1 man show by Those Indian Guys at the Soho Playhouse when as I crossed 6th Avenue, my sandal broke. It literally fell apart.
I blocked the scene from Sex and the City when Charlotte meets Trey and focused instead on all the times I'd been crossing the street alone and sandals had threatened to break but held on.
I hobbled and he slowly, calmly accompanied me across the street to a deli/convenience store of sorts whence I purchased duct tape. We borrowed scissors from the confused Chinese owner and he proceeded to fix my shoe for me. In that moment, I was a total damsel in distress. Not my MO. But he totally came to my rescue.
The original fix didn't hold, so he gave it another go and used up almost 1/4 of the roll of tape to ensure the sandal would last through the night.
The serendipity of being across thes street from a venue purveying duct tape--that American panacea--cannot be fully expressed.
We stumbled into a small cheese shop run by a Bangladeshi man who opened his locked store as I stood outside the glass door pouting. He even gave me a gratis hunk of cheese and a roll for free. Z had to pay for his enormous sandwich--the snack that turned into dinner. We talked to the kindly owner for a while as he prepared the sandwich. He'd recently opened and business was very tough in these economic times.
I just threw those sandals away after letting them sit beside my door and eyeing them with Z gratitude for getting me home shoefully. It was another unexpected turn with my favorite non-date.
He's just back from Tunisia so WCC should pick back up next week. Maybe a free outdoor movie is in our future.
I blocked the scene from Sex and the City when Charlotte meets Trey and focused instead on all the times I'd been crossing the street alone and sandals had threatened to break but held on.
I hobbled and he slowly, calmly accompanied me across the street to a deli/convenience store of sorts whence I purchased duct tape. We borrowed scissors from the confused Chinese owner and he proceeded to fix my shoe for me. In that moment, I was a total damsel in distress. Not my MO. But he totally came to my rescue.
The original fix didn't hold, so he gave it another go and used up almost 1/4 of the roll of tape to ensure the sandal would last through the night.
The serendipity of being across thes street from a venue purveying duct tape--that American panacea--cannot be fully expressed.
We stumbled into a small cheese shop run by a Bangladeshi man who opened his locked store as I stood outside the glass door pouting. He even gave me a gratis hunk of cheese and a roll for free. Z had to pay for his enormous sandwich--the snack that turned into dinner. We talked to the kindly owner for a while as he prepared the sandwich. He'd recently opened and business was very tough in these economic times.
I just threw those sandals away after letting them sit beside my door and eyeing them with Z gratitude for getting me home shoefully. It was another unexpected turn with my favorite non-date.
He's just back from Tunisia so WCC should pick back up next week. Maybe a free outdoor movie is in our future.
May 21, 2009
The Instructors
Last night after work at 10pm, I went to Rogue on 6th Avenue with three instructors who teach at the test prep center I spend my evenings at--working!
They self labeled themselves the bi-guy, the pothead, and the dork. So, as you can imagine, the bi-guy looks like an Abercrombie model and gesticulates wildly while giggling occassionally. The pothead bemoans the pitfalls of failed marriage and waxes poetic on the manliness of manual labor. And the dork, oh the dork, articulates his penchant for women who can hang with men and OCD tendencies verging on extremism!
As I sat among them, the warmth of Jack aside, I felt such pride in inhabitating a personal space with men as diverse as these. To the naked eye, a group of Ivy educated, 20something white men is what you'd see but beneath the surface they were each artists in unique ways. The bi-guy wanders the globe in search of culture and experience--an adventuer. The pothead is a musician. The dork creates commissioned works of paint, sculpture, and experimental furniture.
While my dream of serving as someone's muse still remains unrealized this view into the inner sanctum of the intelligent, entrepreneurial, surviving artists!
They self labeled themselves the bi-guy, the pothead, and the dork. So, as you can imagine, the bi-guy looks like an Abercrombie model and gesticulates wildly while giggling occassionally. The pothead bemoans the pitfalls of failed marriage and waxes poetic on the manliness of manual labor. And the dork, oh the dork, articulates his penchant for women who can hang with men and OCD tendencies verging on extremism!
As I sat among them, the warmth of Jack aside, I felt such pride in inhabitating a personal space with men as diverse as these. To the naked eye, a group of Ivy educated, 20something white men is what you'd see but beneath the surface they were each artists in unique ways. The bi-guy wanders the globe in search of culture and experience--an adventuer. The pothead is a musician. The dork creates commissioned works of paint, sculpture, and experimental furniture.
While my dream of serving as someone's muse still remains unrealized this view into the inner sanctum of the intelligent, entrepreneurial, surviving artists!
May 12, 2009
After Darwin
On Friday night, Z and I went to see a play. We'd originally wanted to see D'Arranged Marriage by Those Indian Guys but it was sold out. I've secured tickets for this Friday--review to follow.
After attempting many other Off-Off Broadway shows he secured tickets for After Darwin. It was a terrific show. It pays to attend without expectations. The tiny theater was packed with friends and family. We were the clear non-auto fans present which was affirmed with a girl with a Flip interviewed US for the review.
It's a play within a play. And like most of these, the play within the play was less interesting than the play itself. The premise is a struggling production company in the UK putting up a production of Darwin's voyage to South America with a particular focus on the original evolutionsist's relationship with Captain FitzRoy, the religious fundamentalist steerer of the vessel. The nuances of the young gay actor who played Darwin's desire to act in film as observed and chastized by the seasoned older theater actor's desire to give this production his all in order to ressurect his failing career created an interesting layer to modern notions of propriety and place. Additionally a brewing love affair between the Bulgarian film director who misrepresented her experience to get the job and the older actor plays into ideas of gender, ethnicity, and ex-patriotism. The final character is an academic African-American writer who apparently wrote the play within the play. His multi-purpose soliloquoy showcases the differences across cultures that unite us in place.
They packed a lot of abstract ideas into the 100-minute play. We sipped with enjoyment the cheap glass of room-temperature white wine our $18 tickets afforded us as we took in the unchanging set of ever changing characters played by two highly competent actors.
Z and I hit up Congee Village on Bowery for dinner post show. Lychee martinis were drunk. Food was greatly enjoyed.
I dragged him to my future mentor's 39th b'day party at The Edge. He, as always, was a beacon of social cheer and kept up all the way through Connect Four tournaments and discussions about detaching retinas--specifically mine.
Another WCC non-date lived large and continues to prosper in my memory.
After attempting many other Off-Off Broadway shows he secured tickets for After Darwin. It was a terrific show. It pays to attend without expectations. The tiny theater was packed with friends and family. We were the clear non-auto fans present which was affirmed with a girl with a Flip interviewed US for the review.
It's a play within a play. And like most of these, the play within the play was less interesting than the play itself. The premise is a struggling production company in the UK putting up a production of Darwin's voyage to South America with a particular focus on the original evolutionsist's relationship with Captain FitzRoy, the religious fundamentalist steerer of the vessel. The nuances of the young gay actor who played Darwin's desire to act in film as observed and chastized by the seasoned older theater actor's desire to give this production his all in order to ressurect his failing career created an interesting layer to modern notions of propriety and place. Additionally a brewing love affair between the Bulgarian film director who misrepresented her experience to get the job and the older actor plays into ideas of gender, ethnicity, and ex-patriotism. The final character is an academic African-American writer who apparently wrote the play within the play. His multi-purpose soliloquoy showcases the differences across cultures that unite us in place.
They packed a lot of abstract ideas into the 100-minute play. We sipped with enjoyment the cheap glass of room-temperature white wine our $18 tickets afforded us as we took in the unchanging set of ever changing characters played by two highly competent actors.
Z and I hit up Congee Village on Bowery for dinner post show. Lychee martinis were drunk. Food was greatly enjoyed.
I dragged him to my future mentor's 39th b'day party at The Edge. He, as always, was a beacon of social cheer and kept up all the way through Connect Four tournaments and discussions about detaching retinas--specifically mine.
Another WCC non-date lived large and continues to prosper in my memory.
Witness
I woke up at 6:15am this morning to D'Souza's phone alarm followed by my 6:30am alarm blaring me back to consciousness. After a lot of snoozing I crawled out of bed, found Luckey huddled on the couch, readied myself to move my car from it's 8:30-10am parking restricted spot on E. 111 near 2Ave.
I decided to drive down to 141 Warren Street to bear witness to Karen and Jed's civil ceremony. However it was 141 Worth Street and I wasn't about to give up my prime street spot a la Muni Meter on Murray Street...all $1 worth of safety.
Lauren and her hubby-to-be (18 days!) were picking up their certificate as they will be having the signing and witnessing at the actual ceremony. Kar couldn't do the same since Jed's visa expires tomorrow which will make him an illegal alien for the next two months prior to their departure to London where he will take on a post at the German Bank at which I once worked. Additionally, she is getting married at a French chateau in FRANCE.
After the ceremony in the East Chapel at 141 Worth Street, I was able to drive the two brides and grooms to Le Park Meridien for brunch at Norma's. Thankfully I managed to secure Muni Meter parking on W. 57th for a mere $3. Yay. The parking Gods beamed upon me today. I just got home in time for the 11:30-1pm restriction to lift and found a choice spot on E. 102 up a block from my abode.
So yeah, I was a witness at someone's official NYC authorized wedding. Me, who beds complete strangers yet goes predictably back to ex-boyfriends for non-dating and non-mating. Me, who was a precocious child and mature teen. Me, who is an immature, fiscally irresponsible adult. Yay!
I decided to drive down to 141 Warren Street to bear witness to Karen and Jed's civil ceremony. However it was 141 Worth Street and I wasn't about to give up my prime street spot a la Muni Meter on Murray Street...all $1 worth of safety.
Lauren and her hubby-to-be (18 days!) were picking up their certificate as they will be having the signing and witnessing at the actual ceremony. Kar couldn't do the same since Jed's visa expires tomorrow which will make him an illegal alien for the next two months prior to their departure to London where he will take on a post at the German Bank at which I once worked. Additionally, she is getting married at a French chateau in FRANCE.
After the ceremony in the East Chapel at 141 Worth Street, I was able to drive the two brides and grooms to Le Park Meridien for brunch at Norma's. Thankfully I managed to secure Muni Meter parking on W. 57th for a mere $3. Yay. The parking Gods beamed upon me today. I just got home in time for the 11:30-1pm restriction to lift and found a choice spot on E. 102 up a block from my abode.
So yeah, I was a witness at someone's official NYC authorized wedding. Me, who beds complete strangers yet goes predictably back to ex-boyfriends for non-dating and non-mating. Me, who was a precocious child and mature teen. Me, who is an immature, fiscally irresponsible adult. Yay!
May 8, 2009
How Do You Sleep?
Anyone that's had the pleasure of living with me knows that I'm one of THOSE people who listens to a song on repeat in the hopes that it will make me nauseous and I'll be the HELL over it. But with the songs I truly love that never seems to happen, but I do thankfully move on to the next ditty that catches my ear.
Currently that song is How do you Sleep? by Jesse McCartney featuring Ludacris. Yes. I'm just as stunned that my two fave boys from different sides of the musical universe can come together--uniting to bring me much auditory delight.
JESSE
It's been about a year now
ain't seen or heard from you
I've been missing you crazy
how do you, how do you sleep
I found the letter you wrote me
it still smells just like you
damn those sweet memories
How do you, how do you sleep, how do you sleep.
I tried my best at moving on have yet to find a girl like you
I see things that I didn't before and I'm wishing I had more time with you,
How do you stay awake knowing all I do is think of you
All the things we thought about that never will happen again if I could just see you
If I had my way I'll come and get you girl
In your favorite car with the missing top
man around my way where we used to park
and did all those things to steal your heart
(Chorus 2x)
It's been about a year now
ain't seen or heard from you
I've been missing you crazy
how do you, how do you sleep
I found the letter you wrote me
it still smells just like you
damn those sweet memories
How do you, how do you sleep, how do you sleep.
Baby all that I hear from my friends again and again and again (they come and ask about you) (they say) we saw your girl at the game and damn we gotta say a big mistake by you.
Not only does your body bang but I miss the conversation too
Tell me that you couldn't sleep can't think can't eat till I come see you
If I had my way I'll come and get you girl
In your favorite car with the missing top
man around my way where we used to park
and did all those things to steal your heart
LUDACRIS
Look, now it’s been about a year,
And im trying to figure out how could you?
Forget about the one who loves you most why would you?
Heal my heart, heal my brain,
Oh how I wish you could feel my pain,
Cause I couldnt get you off of my mind if I tried,
24-7 (3-6-5) and my nights so cold,
Days so long, they say you don’t know what you got
Til’ its gone, well it’s gone and im trippin about how much I Miss it and you steady walkin round like I never exsited,
And its hard to understand, you got another plan,
Trying to play hard and you got another man,
But you’ll never find another like muah,
Like how you riding ’round in a drop top car,
Baby you a star and its time that you know it,
So much love and its time that we show it, LUDA!
JESSE
It's been about a year now
ain't seen or heard from you
I've been missing you crazy
how do you, how do you sleep
I found the letter you wrote me
it still smells just like you
damn those sweet memories
How do you, how do you sleep, how do you sleep
It's been about a year now
ain't seen or heard from you
I've been missing you crazy
how do you, how do you sleep
I found the letter you wrote me
it still smells just like you
damn those sweet memories
How do you, how do you sleep, how do you sleep
Currently that song is How do you Sleep? by Jesse McCartney featuring Ludacris. Yes. I'm just as stunned that my two fave boys from different sides of the musical universe can come together--uniting to bring me much auditory delight.
JESSE
It's been about a year now
ain't seen or heard from you
I've been missing you crazy
how do you, how do you sleep
I found the letter you wrote me
it still smells just like you
damn those sweet memories
How do you, how do you sleep, how do you sleep.
I tried my best at moving on have yet to find a girl like you
I see things that I didn't before and I'm wishing I had more time with you,
How do you stay awake knowing all I do is think of you
All the things we thought about that never will happen again if I could just see you
If I had my way I'll come and get you girl
In your favorite car with the missing top
man around my way where we used to park
and did all those things to steal your heart
(Chorus 2x)
It's been about a year now
ain't seen or heard from you
I've been missing you crazy
how do you, how do you sleep
I found the letter you wrote me
it still smells just like you
damn those sweet memories
How do you, how do you sleep, how do you sleep.
Baby all that I hear from my friends again and again and again (they come and ask about you) (they say) we saw your girl at the game and damn we gotta say a big mistake by you.
Not only does your body bang but I miss the conversation too
Tell me that you couldn't sleep can't think can't eat till I come see you
If I had my way I'll come and get you girl
In your favorite car with the missing top
man around my way where we used to park
and did all those things to steal your heart
LUDACRIS
Look, now it’s been about a year,
And im trying to figure out how could you?
Forget about the one who loves you most why would you?
Heal my heart, heal my brain,
Oh how I wish you could feel my pain,
Cause I couldnt get you off of my mind if I tried,
24-7 (3-6-5) and my nights so cold,
Days so long, they say you don’t know what you got
Til’ its gone, well it’s gone and im trippin about how much I Miss it and you steady walkin round like I never exsited,
And its hard to understand, you got another plan,
Trying to play hard and you got another man,
But you’ll never find another like muah,
Like how you riding ’round in a drop top car,
Baby you a star and its time that you know it,
So much love and its time that we show it, LUDA!
JESSE
It's been about a year now
ain't seen or heard from you
I've been missing you crazy
how do you, how do you sleep
I found the letter you wrote me
it still smells just like you
damn those sweet memories
How do you, how do you sleep, how do you sleep
It's been about a year now
ain't seen or heard from you
I've been missing you crazy
how do you, how do you sleep
I found the letter you wrote me
it still smells just like you
damn those sweet memories
How do you, how do you sleep, how do you sleep
Apparently my only Dress!
Some pictures from the partay in SF.
On the left we have Sully and me
On the right that's the Brit with me
That first one is of Rahul and I...
May 7, 2009
San Fran-fucking-cisco
I was away last weekend--visiting the glorious state of CA--specifically San Francisco.
To say I had a good time would be an understatement. The excitement began when I landed and ended after take-off. Li was working so he directed me to BART it to Embarcadero (DT SF) which was a short 30mins away. Once I gathered that you had to insert the money before selecting the destination and a ticket printing itself I was golden. Yay BART.
We went to two very different happy hours and one of the best Thai dinners I've ever had. All the while I'm rolling my little black carry-on and donning a suit jacket I'd feared packing for wrinkling disasters. The first post work drinkery was actually an upscale steakhouse right on the water with a suited 35+ crowd. The second was a much younger crowd of recession special seeking, jean-clad Asians and the Caucasians who love them. Li's high school gal pal--Rei--joined us for the second happy hour and dinner. Yay Rei! Her lovely Lexus SUV took us home at the end of the night.
I had planned to venture out into SF solo for a day of visitor fun but instead I just tootled around Li's neighborhood--Inner Sunset. Which was actually incredibly adorably with a Citibank, Starbucks, Jamba Juice, two liquor stores, four shops with clothes, and three curry joints within 4 blocks. AMAZING. I don't even live that close to so much useful, Sweet-lovin' stuff. It was misty and I knew that the house party in honor of Li's 29 years on this Earth would require all the energy I could muster later that night. I'm glad I saved up the reserves and rested myself for one of the best nights of my life.
The party was a BLAST. It started with Special K arriving promptly at 6:30pm to marvel at my New Yorky attire--I'll post pics of my brightly colored/peacock reminiscent garb--
Shortly thereafter Li's foreign colleagues Tuffy (the Aussie) and Win (the Kiwi) appeared. They happily buckled to my one-woman peer pressure to shoot Jack, even K relented after the second or third shot. Slowly but steadily people streamed in over the course of the evening. I'd been unsure whether Rahul would show since his parents were visiting from India during my brief sojourn. He did. He showed with a six pack of Heffeweizen--the only beer I actually enjoy--no way he could have known since I didn't even start drinking beer till a year after graduation and I haven't seen him since graduation.
His first words to me, "So, catch me up on the last seven years." Yeah. Tall order. We stood next to the stove and talked. We talked and talked and talked. Talked like there were no other people pressing against our space in that crowded kitchen. He's the same guy and when I'm around him I'm the same girl...but we're as different as we've always been. He's looking two steps ahead at the future and I'm rooted in the present with occassional backward glances.
His college gf turned recent ex (8 years later) showed up with a gal pal of hers--backup, Li called it--and I instinctively made myself scarce. I don't know how or why but I just did. It was interesting to experience instinct outweigh inebriation.
My peace offering didn't go wasted. Shortly after I bowed out, an enormous Asian entered my life. He's 6'5", half-white, a nuclear engineer and adorable. Those gangly limbs sticking out of a loose t-shirt over ratty jeans will get me every time. I'm a sucker for the boy-man. And boy oh boy was he a boy-man.
We ended up talking and flirting and hugging and kissing....
The next morning as I panicked about my interview at Berkeley he made light of it. "They accepted me you know, so you're in great shape," he murmured as he filled a large plastic cup with what was left of the bottle of red wine. "You're taking a roadie on your bike, really?" I questioned. He was. A roadie in the rain in the city of hills of a large white bicycle.
He stood on the stoop with his helmet firmly secured, red cup against red windbreaker and laid a gentle parting kiss on my suited Sweet lips. I swooned.
With that kind of confidence boost, I walked proud into The Wright Insitute. Li was kind enough to drag his puking carcass out of bed for the trek. I think it went well. Dr. S-- and I talked for an hour about me and my goals. I asked two coherent questions as the pounding in my head became indomitable.
Racing back to the car to shed my clown costume, Li laughed at my eagerness to shed all vestiges of adulthood at lightening speed. We drove to the local Chaat House and scarfed down sustenance. Bad idea for me because the drive back to SF was uncomfortable till I finally yakked on the tree in front of his apartment. Relief.
We wiled the day away in napping. He woke up to clean his pad. I was not so useful. We hit up our fave restaurant--Burma Superstar--for his b'day dinner. Four ladies and Li. Yay. While we waited the hour to get seated we imbibed $4.50 Long Islands at Pizza Orgasmica down the street. We were too tired by midnight when dinner ended, so we home to rest up for Sonoma the next day.
My Happa texted me to check on the status of my Berkeley interview. Right after I texted back my phone died. Sad. So I missed the few texts that followed which may have led to a reunion. Just as well. The last thing I need is to start liking a kid out West...
Sunday was spent in Sonoma with K, Li, and a lovely British fellow Li met in Belize whilst traveling. The Brit and I took barbs at one another but all in good fun. Jolly good fun, t'was. We even stopped at the general store to pick up some meat, cheese, and a large baguette. We feasted as we sipped some recently purchased Rose in an idyllic garden at the last winery of the day. It was just lovely.
Wine drunk and winding down, I grabbed my bag from Li's and hopped in K's car for my final night on her couch. I fell asleep almost immediately upon arrival at 10pm. We rose at 5am the next day and she delivered me to the airport...she was catching a flight to San Diego for a site visit so it was all too convenient. Yay K.
As I boarded the plane to Chicago, I looked down over the misty/foggy bay and knew that this weekend had sealed the deal. I'd be back. Back to stay...
To say I had a good time would be an understatement. The excitement began when I landed and ended after take-off. Li was working so he directed me to BART it to Embarcadero (DT SF) which was a short 30mins away. Once I gathered that you had to insert the money before selecting the destination and a ticket printing itself I was golden. Yay BART.
We went to two very different happy hours and one of the best Thai dinners I've ever had. All the while I'm rolling my little black carry-on and donning a suit jacket I'd feared packing for wrinkling disasters. The first post work drinkery was actually an upscale steakhouse right on the water with a suited 35+ crowd. The second was a much younger crowd of recession special seeking, jean-clad Asians and the Caucasians who love them. Li's high school gal pal--Rei--joined us for the second happy hour and dinner. Yay Rei! Her lovely Lexus SUV took us home at the end of the night.
I had planned to venture out into SF solo for a day of visitor fun but instead I just tootled around Li's neighborhood--Inner Sunset. Which was actually incredibly adorably with a Citibank, Starbucks, Jamba Juice, two liquor stores, four shops with clothes, and three curry joints within 4 blocks. AMAZING. I don't even live that close to so much useful, Sweet-lovin' stuff. It was misty and I knew that the house party in honor of Li's 29 years on this Earth would require all the energy I could muster later that night. I'm glad I saved up the reserves and rested myself for one of the best nights of my life.
The party was a BLAST. It started with Special K arriving promptly at 6:30pm to marvel at my New Yorky attire--I'll post pics of my brightly colored/peacock reminiscent garb--
Shortly thereafter Li's foreign colleagues Tuffy (the Aussie) and Win (the Kiwi) appeared. They happily buckled to my one-woman peer pressure to shoot Jack, even K relented after the second or third shot. Slowly but steadily people streamed in over the course of the evening. I'd been unsure whether Rahul would show since his parents were visiting from India during my brief sojourn. He did. He showed with a six pack of Heffeweizen--the only beer I actually enjoy--no way he could have known since I didn't even start drinking beer till a year after graduation and I haven't seen him since graduation.
His first words to me, "So, catch me up on the last seven years." Yeah. Tall order. We stood next to the stove and talked. We talked and talked and talked. Talked like there were no other people pressing against our space in that crowded kitchen. He's the same guy and when I'm around him I'm the same girl...but we're as different as we've always been. He's looking two steps ahead at the future and I'm rooted in the present with occassional backward glances.
His college gf turned recent ex (8 years later) showed up with a gal pal of hers--backup, Li called it--and I instinctively made myself scarce. I don't know how or why but I just did. It was interesting to experience instinct outweigh inebriation.
My peace offering didn't go wasted. Shortly after I bowed out, an enormous Asian entered my life. He's 6'5", half-white, a nuclear engineer and adorable. Those gangly limbs sticking out of a loose t-shirt over ratty jeans will get me every time. I'm a sucker for the boy-man. And boy oh boy was he a boy-man.
We ended up talking and flirting and hugging and kissing....
The next morning as I panicked about my interview at Berkeley he made light of it. "They accepted me you know, so you're in great shape," he murmured as he filled a large plastic cup with what was left of the bottle of red wine. "You're taking a roadie on your bike, really?" I questioned. He was. A roadie in the rain in the city of hills of a large white bicycle.
He stood on the stoop with his helmet firmly secured, red cup against red windbreaker and laid a gentle parting kiss on my suited Sweet lips. I swooned.
With that kind of confidence boost, I walked proud into The Wright Insitute. Li was kind enough to drag his puking carcass out of bed for the trek. I think it went well. Dr. S-- and I talked for an hour about me and my goals. I asked two coherent questions as the pounding in my head became indomitable.
Racing back to the car to shed my clown costume, Li laughed at my eagerness to shed all vestiges of adulthood at lightening speed. We drove to the local Chaat House and scarfed down sustenance. Bad idea for me because the drive back to SF was uncomfortable till I finally yakked on the tree in front of his apartment. Relief.
We wiled the day away in napping. He woke up to clean his pad. I was not so useful. We hit up our fave restaurant--Burma Superstar--for his b'day dinner. Four ladies and Li. Yay. While we waited the hour to get seated we imbibed $4.50 Long Islands at Pizza Orgasmica down the street. We were too tired by midnight when dinner ended, so we home to rest up for Sonoma the next day.
My Happa texted me to check on the status of my Berkeley interview. Right after I texted back my phone died. Sad. So I missed the few texts that followed which may have led to a reunion. Just as well. The last thing I need is to start liking a kid out West...
Sunday was spent in Sonoma with K, Li, and a lovely British fellow Li met in Belize whilst traveling. The Brit and I took barbs at one another but all in good fun. Jolly good fun, t'was. We even stopped at the general store to pick up some meat, cheese, and a large baguette. We feasted as we sipped some recently purchased Rose in an idyllic garden at the last winery of the day. It was just lovely.
Wine drunk and winding down, I grabbed my bag from Li's and hopped in K's car for my final night on her couch. I fell asleep almost immediately upon arrival at 10pm. We rose at 5am the next day and she delivered me to the airport...she was catching a flight to San Diego for a site visit so it was all too convenient. Yay K.
As I boarded the plane to Chicago, I looked down over the misty/foggy bay and knew that this weekend had sealed the deal. I'd be back. Back to stay...
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