Wishy Washy Water Bearer

The Aquarius Male...
You need to be mentally intrigued before you will make your move on a perspective mate. Mind contact is a necessity for sexual fulfillment. You are generous, open and sincere to those you care about. You like to get involved in your mates' interests. You will search for answers and the truth in any relationship. You are somewhat shy and will often wait for someone else to make the first move.

You can't live within a relationship that is domineering or restrictive in any way. Although you appear to be cool outwardly, you are really quite emotional and tender. When it comes to sexual encounters you are very imaginative, however, you also are a dreamer of erotic fantasies. You will look for a partner who is willing to satisfy your relentless pursuit of intense sexual experiences. You fall in love quickly but you are also hesitant to commit completely to anyone.


Oh for fug's sake

Dreams

Mm, I think this post steps from suddenly remembering one or two lucid dreams I had. And I think this is something I would like to look into some more.
I have vague recollections of the dream right now. I forget where it took place or when but I do remember knowing very clearly that I was dreaming. And I remember trying all kinds of things. For instance, I remember conjuring up a door and testing to see if it felt like a door and sounded like wood. I remember sounds interfering with the dream and remember knowing that they were from the outside and I tried to incorporate them into the dream.
I would love to do this and apparently it can be learned. The most successful methods apparently involve waking up during the REM cycle and then going back to sleep straight into REM. I obviously can’t do this since I work but I can try and remember dreams as soon as I wake up.

Anyway, I have had one other dream where I died. Now I have had a few where I wake up with a start just before impact/crash/fall. But there was just one where I saw this truck bearing down on me, I remember focussing on the head-lights, the grill. It was a red truck. Odd I remember that but instead of ducking, I stood there listening to the horn blare. And I was fine. I remember the second it hit me, it didn’t hurt. But I remember nothingness….albeit for 10 seconds and then I woke up with a smile.

But the ones I hate the most are the ones where I am falling. I wake up with a sudden start (am positive my entire body jerks off of the bed) and all my muscles are tensed, my jaw is clenched. Anyway, I googled it and came up with:

As with most common dream themes, falling is an indication of insecurities, instabilities, and anxieties. You are feeling overwhelmed and out of control in some situation in your waking life. This may reflect the way you feel in your relationship or in your work environment. You have lost your foothold and can not hang on or keep up with the hustle and bustle of daily life. When you fall, there is nothing that you can hold on to. You more or less are forced toward this downward motion without any control. This lost of control may parallel a waking situation in your life.

Bah!

Things That Make You Go Mmmmm

Things that make me feel good (sent to me in a forward but heck, I like fuzzy stuff like this sometimes)

2. Laughing so hard your face hurts.
3. A hot shower.
4. No lines at the supermarket
5. A special glance.
6. Getting mail
7. Taking a drive on a pretty road
8. Hearing your favorite song on the radio.
9. Lying in bed listening to the rain outside.
10. Hot towels fresh out of the dryer.
11. Chocolate milkshake. (or vanilla or strawberry!)
12. A bubble bath.
13. Giggling.
14. A good conversation.
15. The beach
16. Finding a 20 dollar bill in your coat from last winter.
17. Laughing at yourself.
19. Midnight phone calls that last for hours
20. Running through sprinklers.
21. Laughing for absolutely no reason at all.
22 Having someone tell you that you're beautiful.
23. Laughing at an inside joke.
24. Friends.
25. Accidentally overhearing someone say something nice about you.
26. Waking up and realizing you still have a few hours left to sleep.
27. Your first kiss (either the very first or with a new partner).
28. Making new friends or spending time with old ones.
29. Playing with a new puppy
30. Having someone play with your hair.
31. Sweet dreams.
32. Hot chocolate.
33. Road trips with friends.
34. Swinging on swings.
35. Making eye contact with a cute stranger.
36. Making chocolate chip cookies.
37. Having your friends send you homemade cookies.
38. Holding hands with someone you care about.
39. Running into an old friend and realizing
that some things (good or bad) never change.
40. Watching the expression on someone's face
as they open a much desired present from you.
41. Watching the sunrise.
42. Getting out of bed every morning and
being grateful for another beautiful day.
43. Knowing that somebody misses you.
44. Getting a hug from someone you care about deeply.
45. Knowing you've done the right thing,
no matter what other people think.

I removed #1 because while I do agree with it, I don’t want to think about falling in love

A Work In Progress

Things I have learned:

(warning: most are clichés. Also I do not profess that the following are universally true. They just make sense to me)

1) love, like life, dies

2) you can’t control most things in life. You can however control thing where no one else is involved. I know this sounds like a truism but doing those things brings balance into life. For instance, the two things I want to make happen are getting into shape and learning something new. I know what I want and how to get there. Each step I take toward my goal gives me a new rush

3) you can play Agony Aunt to all except yourself.

4) You can control how you feel. The reason I don’t is because I enjoy being wrapped in emotion. I am, by habit, very rational. It’s the only way to make sense out of the madness. But doing that and only that is dehumanizing

5) You know someone is a true friend when you don’t need to catch up. You just walk into the room 6 months later and resume the conversation

6) Your parents know more than you think they do

7) You want to make the most of each day. I know this is a cliché but the thing I fear most is dying, reviewing my life and going dang, I wasted so much time

8) Loving someone isn’t the same as being in love

9) Things can always get worse. They inevitably do before they get better

10) The universe has an odd sense of humour. But it does take care of you. Finding that out requires patience

11) Philosophy is the head, religion is the heart and man can not live on just one

12) You need ugliness in life to appreciate the good times. Unfortunately, you do not remember the good times

13) It is necessary to break your heart to get over someone and the ones we love often tend to be the ones who hurt us the most.

14) Cooking and cleaning aren’t chores. They are a way of arranging the thoughts that run amok.

15) Your conscience is a measure of the honesty of your selfishness

16) I have theme songs for my life. They often change, just like life

17) If you like someone, tell them. You never know when they will be gone. But the question ‘what if’ will remain forever

18) The day this list stops growing is the day I die

Stealing Words

I don’t know how I feel about Irving Welsh. Look, I read “Trainspotting” as a 16 year old. And “Maribou Stork Nightmares” as well. I remember being intimidated by the whole drug scene. And I have never been terribly ‘into’ it (just to occasional toke once or twice in a year and no more) but yes, I have tried almost anything once.

(I draw the line at needles. I once spent two weeks in the hospital because of typhoid. I was 7 and on a drip. The IV needle slipped out of the vein but remained in my hand and the fluid kept building up until the entire back of my hand was swollen with fluid…don’t like needles).

Anyway, but there are a few notable instances in my stint of trying almost everything. I even remember one nasty trip where I was sitting in a room with some friends and the hum of the ‘fridge was so loud, I had to leave the room.

But there was one instance which was out f “Trainspotting”. Now I forget if it was in the book but it was in the movie for sure. The guy is on a bad trip and lies down in his bed; except he seems to sink deep into it and the sides of the bed rise like the walls of a chasm he has fallen into. I felt exactly like that and ever since then oh 5 years ago, have been cautious never to over do it.

Anyway, all this has been a transgression. The start of this train of thought was an article on/by Irving Welsh I came across and liked…excerpts:

This much I know

Irvine Welsh, Author, London

Sylvia Patterson
Sunday July 18, 2004
The Observer

You never read your own books. I don't know how anybody can. When you write a book it's a way of getting rid of something that you don't particularly want back. Like dain' a shite.

Hopefully you grow old, but never up. My whole life's been a midlife crisis. Dunno whether it's a prolonged adolescence or a premature menopause, it's seamless to me.

I don't even read reviews of books. I just get them to send me highlighted parts for the dust jackets.

The greatest sentence you ever write in a book is 'The end'. 'Cos it's so good to get it finished. You've got there and you can move on. I'm not going around with all this crap in my head any more. I can get new crap to put in there again.

Failure teaches you everything. Success teaches you nothing at all. You learn things about people, how two-faced and sycophantic they can be. People who wouldn't piss on you if you were on fire when you're a failure are suddenly all over you when you're successful.

Pornography is mainstream culture now, the way drugs are. It's almost like punk, pornography, people just do their own stuff. Gonzo-porn, people get together after closing time, go back to somebody's house, shag each other, video it and stick it on the internet. I cannae get into watching other people shag, too cold and empty. And I don't want to see my fucking spotty white arse going up and down on the internet.

People say, 'Oh, it must be great to live in Islington,' and I say, 'There's no point, you've got everything in Kirkcaldy High Street.' And you might get a cheaper pint.

In the future we'll all be TV presenters and crack dealers. And that's it. If you said that money made you miserable, you'd be lying through your back teeth. I used to think about money all the time when I never had it and now that I do, I don't.

The social reality of not being intoxicated on a night out is just something you can't do. Your pals in the pub, on the second pint, they're in another world.

I've just come back from the camps in Western Defoe and Sudan where people have been ethnically cleansed out of their homelands and tortured and raped and beaten. It only really hits you when you're coming back on the plane, and you've got the stewardess asking if you want a drink. Seems so unreal after where you've been.

I still like to take new drugs but I find out what it is first. There's this Angel's Trumpet Tree stuff in Florida, a white flower that grows wild, quite trippy but it fucks people's breathing up and a couple of kids've died. I'm becoming quite conservative. Before, I would just throw everything into myself that I could, 'Fuck it, I'm no gonnae die... ever!'

The life I lead is quite selfish. I do my own thing and haven't really been as big on commitment as I should be. Being a writer, it's like any arty thing you're involved in, if it becomes quite all-consuming you can be a wee bit negligent when it comes to personal relationships.

Books are a communal thing that you pass around. I don't have loads of books in the house. I leave them on the Underground so somebody else can read them. I've got Trainspotting in about 24 languages. Usually overseas publishers will send you one or two copies but the Dutch send you boxes. So I sometimes leave Dutch versions of my books on the tube for a laugh.

You go through ridiculous phases, hanging on to youth. My DJ-ing was a way to keep going to clubs and be surrounded by young people, 'I've got my box, look!'

Writing's good 'cos it's a respectable profession for a mature chap to be in, you can grow old with grace in it. I've not managed it yet but it can be done.

It's just better, at any time, being young than being old. Then again, you get 20 Es for 20 quid now, I would be destroyed.

I've got loads of Gods and they've all played for Hibs.

New York journalists are so serious. I was in New York doing this press conference and one said, 'Is there anything taboo in your books?' and I said, 'Racism. My granddad died at Auschwitz,' and he goes, 'Oh, that's terrible,' and I said, 'Yeah, he fell out of a machine-gun tower.' A sick joke! And they were all... pshpshshspshs [feigns tumbleweed rolling by]. I have that community care side to me that I choose to bury in mounds of flippancy.

It's impossible to conceive of living without love. Or just not having the anticipation of it. Unless you're a bit dysfunctional, or really, really unlucky - I think love is a certainty. At some point. For everybody.

I really didn’t expect the last quote from a bloke like him but still, I take heart in it.

----------

GB Shaw:

"People are always blaming their circumstances for what they are. The people who get on in this world are the people who look for the circumstances they want, and, if they can't find them, make them."

----------

From Paranoid Prom Queen

I have learned some hard lessons. That you can not make someone love you, you can only be someone who can be loved. That time heals. That you often hurt the ones you love. And that it is a universally accepted fact that the guy will always start dating first and that the person who was broken up with will suffer for way longer than is fair.

Does having something meaningless count as dating? Also, the last line sucks…as in not the line itself but that she said it and its right!

And also,

You can be a good listener.
You can be a bloody good listener.
You can give the bestest, most cleverest advice in the world.
You can do it 'til you're blue in the face...
...But it's bloody hard to take your own advice.

Bah humbug!

Love, Life and Loathing in London

So I broke down…again and I called the Ex

Yes NM, I have no self respect any more and I feel like shit. No seriously, here’s what’s going on in my head and heart:

Heart: why doesn’t she love me any more, I loved her so much and she didn’t love me back. Is it me? Did she find him more attractive? Does he make her feel better than I ever did? What about all those times we lay in bed, arms around each other, her promises of never letting go nor letting me fall? Is it me? Am I not worthy?

Head: Dude, what he fuck? So you have dated more girls than she knows of, heck, she doesn’t know of any of them. She wants to get married and you don’t want to for another five years, you knew she wouldn’t wait. And you know you have met other girls who you have been so much more compatible with. Look, if anything, let me speak your language since you seem insistent on believing in signs and that the universe is, of all things, trying to talk to you. You want a sign? This is a sign for you to get your act together, be selfish and be everything you want i.e. get in shape, meet more people, have fun, date around without it getting serious. Come on for the love of god stop being a pansy and wisen up. You knew a very very long time ago that the world wasn’t fair. You knew that you just didn’t want to accept it right? Chicken.

So anyway, you heard her, do whatever it takes – so fine, do whatever it takes mean, you know it wont be that hard to do …look, you know what has to be done. Can you please let me do this one? Last time I let you run and do your thing, you got us fucked up and fucked over. So, go sleep for a while, I will call when I think we are ready.

Good.

Besides, you remember what you heard and wrote – take one day at a time? So that is what we will do.

A Swift Kick of Perspective

Please do click for the bigger picture

Oh You Silly Gao

Oh dear, I hope she gets a cut at the very least... will subsidize next years party








You can find more here: http://www.cafepress.com/nycbuzz

I'm Sleepy

Hi there, its me – the emotionally bi-polar guy

I was overwhelming swept away with a desire to call the Ex; to the point where I even dialed the number to reach her. NM was nice enough to remind me not to call until I lose 10 kilos and that’s what I intend on doing. I want those eyes popping out when we meet again and fuck me twice on Tuesday if I don’t make that happen.

Im a vindictive prick but that’s okay.

So is it ironic that last night I was mulling over my place in the universe and on signs and today I watched a movie on just that? I saw “Lady in the Water” and I don’t care, I liked it. It’s a story requiring suspension of all rationality and basis in fact. It’s a bed time story and I liked it. I liked the idea that we are all trying to find our purpose and even though it may be mistaken, in the end, it rights it self and ordered transcends. I like the idea of the universe sending messages and reading signs. Look, perhaps its just my own imagination and synapses firing in all kinds of ways that make me connect random events. But I would like to believe that there is something in the Big Nothing looking out for me and that chaos does cease and is replaced by order.

I still believe in magic and always will. And this ties in with my idea of love, love does exist, I just haven’t found it yet. And call me a naive optimist, but somewhere out there is a woman made just for me (heck, the ancient greeks had it right, that the gods created the perfect creature and Zeus feared how beautiful they were so he ripped them into two and ever since then, each has been looking for its other half)

I like idea of being destined for a purpose, for happiness. And I will not voluntarily decline chances or opportunities. Even if I get my heart broken a million times, I will always take chances. The universe can try and dump on me and perhaps it will be a lifelong battle, but at least one I fought (vis-à-vis rolling over and taking it).

But yes, it was funny to watch the irony in the universe today, to see a movie that gelled so well what was I was thinking about. Bring it on baby, I may have taken a lot of blows this year which makes me less enthusiastic about meeting things head on, but you know what, I’m still here, and I’m still taking steps.

Oo, and guess what, found two shops that I now love – FCUK and Zara (got two Ts from each place and nice nice shoes from Zara (they had my size!! FYI: size 12)

You know what they say about guys with big feet – big shoes…

--end--

Ooo ooo, shopping

Now it’s the Bank Holiday, and I have to make use of the sales. I must confess that my suspect gay friend (who isn’t but is so very metro, heck he got $250 beige snake skin boots and he is 4 ft. nothing) was right: London makes good shopping. And I think I may just like Covent Garden.

I used to be a 6-minute shopper and took some pride in it. Then I realized my wardrobe sucks, good clothes do exist and I can actually afford them. So with that in mind, I have forayed this year into the shopping frenzy (which in my case comes no where nears some of my female friends’ frenzies which last all day. I need 2 hours, then I get like a sulky 5 year old, dragging my feet).

I love pin striped. Every shirt I have has striped. Don’t know why.

I am beginning to enjoy my retro Ts now and am going hunting today for more. Also, I hear Zara calling.

Ugh, I have got to keep a check on my money, I waste way too much and I feel like crap. So I cancelled by NY b’buster membership and didn’t/was too lazy/couldn’t be bothered to return 2 dvd’s. I saw they charged me $20 for each. Which ones? MASH and Citizen Kane!!

Ugh…no more wasting, no no no no….clothes fine, so long as its something that lasts…I mean a $50 shirt that I wear thrice is more expensive than a $100 coat I wear much longer….so, I am shopping my cost per wear….god what a geek

--end--

I’m as big a fan of drunken posts as I am of drunk-dialing.

And I don’t like drunk-dialing.

Suffice to say, I have a few things to say. And I hope the universe is reading this.

So I went to Ash’s bf’s place with SB. I drank a half n’ half on an empty stomach. What scared me was the ease with which is went down. But there are bigger things that scared me.

I sat on his balcony and it’s the first high-rise I have been in in this city. Its not like NY, its not ordered, the streets don’t run straight and true; its muddled up and sprawled out, like a person, the lights on tall antennas blinking as steady as I hear my own heart. And I feel low.

I caught myself washing my face and looking in to the mirror and having the uneasy thought, “this isn’t my life”. I can see my arms reach out for another sip of my drink, a strange disconnect between my arms and my head, like it’s a weird art-house movie with a first person point-of view. I don’t recognize my own face. And I have always prided myself at knowing who I am, where I am coming from and where I want to go. Its what keeps me sane; today was the first time, albeit for a fleeting second, that I didn’t recognize myself and I was lost. I ….

I remember looking out at the city, completely disillusioned, for the first time in my life, with love and longing. It too dies, nothing is permanent, feelings change, people move on and love dies. And its sad because this was the only thing that actually gave me hope, each day moving along, the sun rising and like a stop motion picture, setting as it always does.

And sitting in the balcony, I felt completely and utterly insignificant. We tend to magnify our problems to feel that we have a place in the world, that we are human and have a reason for existence. But what if we don’t?

I always believed that there were only two things I lived for, that my life was driven by these two basic tendencies: love and learning.

What if one of them dies, what is one of the pillars is pulled out, how much listing can occur before it falls and a cloud of dust rises, obliterating all light and clarity

I am maudlin and I recognize it and I wallow in it. It, sadly, makes me feel alive.

I wish I would grow up and stop adolescent meanderings but its hard to get un-lost.

I don’t know who I am. I can see my hands on the keyboard, poised in a question mark, I can see them race across and the fingers move and its as though of their own accord, I see myself from above, a weird 3^rd person view, peering in into a painting, observing, reacting but never engaging.

God fucking help me, why do I feel like this, I know all things move to one end, happiness (apropos Aristotle) but what happens when that beautiful thought is warped? What happened when the ‘all things’ he talks about try and move toward that one end but don’t know how, that they lie there twisting trying to reach someplace without knowing how to get there.

This is the first time in four years where I don’t know what the next step is. My foot-steps stop and a leg is raised questioning. Where does it land, whats the next tile…I cant believe my life is disordered, stumbling against events and circumstances, there has to be another meaning, order…hell the universe moves from chaos to order….

I seem…I feel as though I am moving in the opposite direction and that in it self is contrary to the universe

I wax melancholic

How Now Brown Gao?

Okay, so im 23 and am a snot-nosed kid compared with some of the heavy-weights I have come across in the past year. And I know that I am a blithering idiot who knows squat. Yes, I know a bit more than I did a year ago but I have barely scratched the surface.

So when I come across a smarmy 21 year old intern who gets on a high-horse and seems to be living off daddy’s dough and sounds as smarmy as this one, I just feel like ripping her arm off and hitting her on the head with the bloody stump.

The original email reached me through two distinct routes. If you check the oxford thread, you can see its made its rounds in most i-banks and across the desk of a few MD’s. My boss in London saw this email. Well, at any rate, everyone seems to know who this kid is.

Its seems as though the universe has bent this snot nosed little prissy over and given her an up-ending she wont forget soon (though if you read her replies to some of the emails, including one sent by interns at DwK, she hasn’t learned her lesson)

Dear Friends,

Thank you for all your replies and I am glad all of you can come this Friday to celebrate my 21st with me.

Please read ALL the following to ensure your entry into the Ritz.

Lucy's 21st Birthday Party at The Ritz Hotel London

Friday, 18th of August
9pm Champagne Reception
10pm Photo Shoots
10:30pm Blowing Candles

Mid-night Pangaea, Mayfair

I have arranged the Ritz to host a Champagne Reception with a selection of Ritz Champagne for all my guests, this will be on me so please come and indulge.

A specially made birthday cake has also been ordered and the Ritz waiters will kindly serve you each a generous slice with Ritz cutleries, etc...also on me.

INSTRUCTIONS FOR ENTRY:
* When you arrive, take the Hotel entry on the opposite side of the Green Park tube station [Please refer to your arrival time at the end of this email]
* When asked "how can I help you Sir/Madame?", you reply "I am here for Lucy's Birthday Party at the Rivoli Bar"
* You will be escorted to the lounge area next to the Rivoli bar, where you will hopefully see a gorgeous group of ladies.

If you experience any issues getting in or getting to the Ritz, please call my mobile on ????? ??? ??? and my PA Ms Gill will kindly deal with your queries between 8:30pm to 10pm.

STRICT DRESS CODE:
Gentlemen: Jacket, shirt, and please also bring a tie (no jeans, trainers, flip-flops, polo-shirts)
Ladies: skirt/top, cocktail dress (no denim, min-skirts, flip-flips, bad tastes)

Advice 1: It goes without saying that the more upper-class you dress, the less likely you shall be denied entry.
Advice 2: Photos will be taken between 10pm to 10:30pm, and these will be distributed once processed, therefore you may want to be well-groomed!

Finally...
I will be accepting cards and small gifts between 9pm to 11pm... hehehe

I very much look forward to seeing you all at the Ritz this Friday.

Lucy

ARRIVAL TIMES: [Please stick to these as best as you can, thank you]
9:00pm: Lucy, Sophie S., Kajai, Mandeep, Preet, Sanami, Su, Lisa, Kate.
9:15pm: Phoebe, Sophie Se., Theo, Dmitry, Ed, Nikolay, Paul, Nick, Harry.
9:30pm: Marco, Andrea, Jess, Ovi, Yuki, Olga, Kim, Marcelo, Ulyana, Krystal, Dan.
9:45pm: Sunita, Alan, JingJing, Emma.
10:00pm: Anthony, Rachel, Roger, Uli, Yogi, Gharzi

Lucy Gao
Citigroup | Real Estate Equity Research
Xth Floor, Citigroup Centre (CGC1)
25 Canada Square, London E14 5LB
Direct Line: +44 2?? ??? ????
Fax: +44 2?? ??? ????
Mobile: +44 7?? ??? ????

Incidentally, her ‘PA’ is just a friend…dude, if I had a friend who assigned me to be their PA and make it sound like I actually were, it would take more than Ritz champagne and generous slices of Ritz caked (served using Ritz cutlery) to be friends with her

Anyway, to demonstrate karma, some of the selections from various email chains that have distributed this:

• Oh my god! Read from the bottom! Its gone not only to EVERYONE in citibut i've just been told by my boss its gone all over the banks and they're all laughing about it. -- Citi

• "It goes without saying that the more upper-class you dress, the lesslikely you shall be denied entry."...!! it also goes without saying that the more i read of that, the less
  likely i am to contain my mirth -- Citi

• Nice, nice....have just received it from graduate recruitment co-ordinator over here as well....that's another bank where she'll get giggled at during the interview.... -- Don’t know where that came from but ouch!!

And in reply to the above

• She won't make it to interview, just like pretty much every bank where HR has now seen this. -- don’t know where this is from but its definitely a ‘d’oh’ moment

• How are YOUR interns doing this summer? Looks like Citi real estate research rocks! -- Director, European Energy Group, UBS Investment Bank

• It's been around the UBS IBDers and filtering through the rest. Our team had a laugh and tried to fill in the blanks; contacts at ABN, Goldman's, RBS etc. have been informed to avoid them feeling left out... -- don’t know but all I can say is oh dear

Me singing ‘it’s a small world after all…it’s a small world…

• “I'd like to say that this Lucy Gao is now famed internationally. I am in HONG KONG of all places (all 6000 miles away from lovely Citigroup London) and doing an internship at Rabobank Hong Kong. I received the email from my boss asking if I knew this "silly woman" on Friday afternoon.
  I forwarded the email to a few close friends, two hours afterward I was forwarded MY email by a friend working in Osaka, Japan, at Nomura.
  
  

And the rebuttal

From: Gao, Lucy [CIR]
Sent: Thursday, August 24, 2006 5:00 PM
To: *GCIB EU Summer Analyst Class

Subject: FROM the girl herself...
Hi Fellow Citigroup Interns,
Just to clear a few things up, now that it is seriously getting out of
control, it was suppose to be an internal joke between me and a couple
of my guests to my 21st Party. The actual party was great, and nothing
like it so please do not worry. I should not have used my Citigroup
email account in the first place so I apologise for that.
I am sorry if you found the content of the invitation details offensive
and I am glad to entertain. But please stop now because it is getting
really unprofessional and unnecessary, and a lot of you know me anyway
and have heard about this so I apologise for repeating this again, but
hopefully for the final time.
Cheers everyone and have a great time this evening.
See you soon.
Lucy

Oh this is the one from Dwk

From: xxxx [mailto:xxxx@dresdnerkleinwort.com]
Sent: 24 August 2006 16:19
To: Gao, Lucy [CIR]
Subject: Hello from Dresdner
Hi there,
The Interns at Dresdner Kleinwort were recently forwarded an email regarding your 21st birthday celebrations. We would like to extend our congratulations to you upon reaching this milestone age. Did you get any lovely gifts?
I have been thinking about organising a function at the Ritz myself as I will be 22 in the near future. I was wondering if you could inform me of your opinions as to the levels of service and quality of your experience at the Ritz. Was it a good night? Also do you have any photos of the event?
How was the Ritz champagne and cake? I imagine it is expensive so I would have thought it would be of the highest quality? Also how strict is the dress code? Was anyone refused entry for not being upper class enough?
I am also somewhat confused by the different arrival times. Is this a requirement of the Ritz that large groups must be split up to arrive at different times for private functions such as your birthday? Or is this merely some sort of ranking system of your friends and acquaintances?
My final question pertains to the Ritz cutlery... I bet this is some top shelf quality cutlery, yes? I was wondering how easy you think it'd be to steal a few sets as I'd love to have some in my flat... While I'd like to think I'm very upper class, I'm actually a right pikey!
Regards
XXXXXXX
Summer Analyst
IT Global Management

Oh well, seems like this bird is unfazed so good on her! Me, I just think that a brick needs to drop on her (but then again, im sure several need to fall on me albeit for different reasons)

http://www.oxfordgossip.co.uk/new/showthread.php?t=5097&page=1&pp=10

http://wallstfolly.typepad.com/wallstfolly/2006/08/oxford_gossip_s.html#more

http://www.timesonline.co.uk/newspaper/0,,174-2327707,00.html

http://wallstfolly.typepad.com/wallstfolly/2006/08/ft_picks_up_luc.html

http://wallstfolly.typepad.com/wallstfolly/2006/08/birthday_party_.html

Bring it on Baby....Head On

I’m watching ‘Head On’

And I love this movie. I don’t normally watch random movies. There’s a lot of shit out there. This isn’t it. And I’ve watched 45 minutes of it by now and even if the rest is shit, these 45 make up for it.

It’s so brilliantly broken, the character I mean. And I love it. The guy tried to kill himself by getting drunk and ramming his car into a wall. He lost his wife; I don’t know how. But he tries to kill himself. He meets Sibel in the hospital which is kind of like an asylum. She has been treated for slashing her wrists. She asks him to marry her and he asks her to fuck off

She finds him again. She wants to marry him because her brother broke her nose for holding hands with another guy. She is in her early twenties, perhaps nineteen. She wants to marry him so that she can live and fuck, as she puts it, she wants a farce, a husband her folks can accept but one who gives her the freedom to fuck and be whatever she wants.

They get married

So far in the movie, she asks him his dead wife’s name on their wedding night, he throws her out and she fucks the bar tender. There’s one frame I couldn’t tear my eyes off of – her walking down the street in the morning in her wedding dress, the walk of shame juxtaposed with the wedding dress.

Now things are breaking (how you may ask given everything is so fucked up). They go out dancing, he is older than her but in a rock star kind of way is still cool. He stands watching her dance and this guy flirts with her. About 15 seconds later, she tells him she is going for a fuck.

We see him in the apartment, unable to sleep on the same bed he fucked another woman on his ‘wedding night’. He is thinking about his new bride. I guess it’s a violation of his ‘possession’ and pride that is keeping him up; he can’t be falling in love with her can he?

I love this movie…if things are broke, they can still be broken into smaller pieces!

Anyway, the sex scene reminded me of M....it takes me a few seconds to remember her last name…it was two one-night stands with her. The sex was very very different. Okay it was my first casual fuck (emphasis on fuck, not casual since I was in a casual relationship once and I have had sex ‘casually’). Now I’m not saying she was a slut, in fact she was a very nice girl who later confessed that she fell for me a bit. We both got along very well and she was in town for a week, visiting from LA. But that was one the only real time I was dominated. Usually I like having latent power – as in taking control in brief bursts, always directing, always being the one taking control. Anyway, with MK, it was very interesting. And I never figured her for the dominant one. But yes, I saw this rather violent sex scene in the movie and remembered her, remembered her biting and splitting my lip till I tasted blood and heard her delight, I remember her biting my chest drawing blood again (which I have to say is more sensitive than I believed).

Anyway…first time my body felt sore in the morning.

It was fun…perhaps I would like to try that again, it was too brief and too isolated for me to say I like it.

Oh and here the groom is at it again with the violent fuck…

Hahahaha, the two are playing backgammon in the nude. I hope I end up with a girl who is like that i.e. comfortable enough to walk around naked. Its…no, not sexual (to a small, yes small, degree it is…but I think what’s turning on is seeing her so comfortable in her skin)

Post post: oh no...even the fucked up can get fucked up...the guy and his 'wife' are getting busy and she stops him,
"I can't...I can't...if we do this I become your wife and you become my husband"
He goes out gets drunk, smashes a glass on the bar with his hand laughing, "I'm in love"



This isn't a man who lies on the tracks knowing the train is bearing down on him, it's one who is charging to meet it....head on

Post post-post: oh dear oh dear oh dear. The 'bride' is working part time at a hair salon. Cahit, the 'grooms' violent fuck is there and Sebil is washing her hair. The fuck tells Sebil that she and Cahit sleep together sometimes. Sebil snaps her head back by her hair. Oh dear

Mooo-feees

Ooooo ooooo go watch go watch! The Namesake

New York New York

New York is crude and crass…but its fucking funny…courtesy: www.overheardinnewyork.com

Mother: Don't you ever do that again! [slaps child hard]
Child, calmly: Well, are you happy with yourself?
--Union Square

Dumb teen: Hey, look at this! It says "Train for jobs in biotch."

Smarter teen: Fool! That word is biotech. Why you gotta be ignorant all your life?

--1 train

Conductor: This train is very crowded. If you cannot fit, please step back and wait for the next train. If you manage to get onto this very crowded train, look at the person next to you and tell them, "Howdy!"

--Queens bound F train

Bus driver stops in the middle of the street to pick up a friend. A second, random guy hurries on the bus as well.
Bus driver, to random guy: Yo, this ain't no bus stop.
Random guy: Oh, I saw you pick him up, so...
Bus driver: Yeah, well I know him.
Random guy: Hi, I'm Dan.
--M1 bus, 110th & Madison

Bus driver: Everyone, please move to the back of the bus...Come on, people. I'm speaking English here. Move to the back of the bus so these people can get on. There's nothing wrong with the back of the bus. It's not scary. There are no monsters back there. You won't get hurt. So please move back.

--Q12 bus, Main Street, Flushing

Round ghetto girl: Skateboardin': not cool.
Skater: Childhood obesity: not cool.
--125th St station

Chick: Is that Broadway? I think it is. I can't see.
Burly guy: Yeah. Didn't you put your contacts in?
Chick: No. I haven't bought new ones yet.
Burly guy: Jesus, Jen! You'll buy boobs but you won't buy contacts?
Chick: What's more important: contacts or boobs?
--Union Square

Suit on cell: If he doesn't get me the fucking money, I'll kill that bitch!
Hobo: How about you give me some money, and I'll kill that bitch?
--St. Mark's

Tall tourist: Hey, they just said Union Square; is that our stop?
Big-Haired tourist: Our stop is 5th Street.
Conductor: The next stop will be 8th Street.
Doe-Eyed tourist: Is that our stop?
Big-Haired tourist: Our stop is 5th Street.
New Yorker #1: There isn't a stop for 5th Street.
Big-Haired tourist: Then how do we get to Central Park?
New Yorker #2: You should get off and go the other way-- 5th Avenue.
New Yorker #3, as doors open at 8th Street: But wait until Canal. Otherwise you'll have to pay the 2 bucks to get back on the train.
Big-Haired tourist wanders off the train without his tourist counterparts.
Doe-Eyed tourist, as the doors are closing: Wait. Why did he get off?
Tall tourist, to doors: Open up.
New Yorker #2, as the train pulls away: Do you have cell phones?
Tall tourist: No, ma'am.
New Yorker #4: Well, at least his hair looked good.
--Downtown R train
Overheard by: good lord, the tourists are in season

Teacher: What country do we live in?
First graders: New York!

(Too Tired To Work)

I caught up with TB today. Writing that last post made me want to speak with her. And I genuinely like her. I think she is one of the few tough as nails girl I know. But then again, I’ve also seen her really upset a few times and I think we have had one or two conversation at that point in my life when I was figuring out what I wanted and what I was capable of. So the memories co-mingle and are thus etched.

Anyway, it was nice to speak to her, she works in the media and I have no idea what that’s like. Okay I have one friend who works in movies but it isn’t the same. And as schadenfreude as it was of me, was good to know that even she finds work boring at times, there is a lot more to it than what people see and its highly competitive.

Which is why when one friend/acquaintance of mine in NY made me feel guilty (albeit for 5 seconds) for having a cute amount in the bank, I lost it. I think that was one time I was angry this year. I know I can work way harder than I do now. I don’t because I don’t have to. I’m no space cadet and wont apologize for not being one. But nonetheless, I will never ever let anyone make me feel guilty for shaping my career the way that I have.

[looking back, the incident was very petty. I was dying for steak and wanted to take everyone since I just got my bonus that week. Now steaks are no cheap shit…and he had to something to the effect, “oh just because you can take everyone out for a steak dinner doesn’t make you a big shot”…meh? Oh, did I mention he is a vegan? Fucker]

But yeah, that mop scene makes me chuckle even now!

Oh and it was nice flirting with the temp today (albeit via email). She studies atelier art in Florence. Today was her last day and in a few weeks, she is going back to Florence. Hitting on her or not, am actually hoping to do coffee with her sometime, and for once, not to boink her but talk about stuff – art, Italy, art

Meh…is this the decline of my sex drive?

Hmmm, let me think (close eyes and think)

No, its not

:o)

Oh good…just making sure I remain a horny fucker (mind the pun) until 6 months post-death

Okay kiddies, off from work we go to the gym we go

Oi Vay...What Morons

'm an idiot, I was an idiot and hopefully will always be one.

And I remember the ex would get mad at me sometimes for being immature and call me a juvenile. I think I am growed up enough so there…I remember one time I was acting like an idiot just to tease her and she broke into tears ruing her fate mumbling, ‘I’m dating an idiot’

Anyway, ‘ a little madness now and then is relished by the wisest men’ or so sayeth Willy Wonka and fuck you, I’m gonna quote the truth where I find it from Satre to Snoopy (or in this case a loopy character)

So I had a long moronic chat with …ugh, psi….so how often have you heard 'jelly donut', 'the rocker, the spocker, the shock her, the death star and clit commander, the 'deer in the headlights, 'the hitler' in the same breath as Lord of the Rings and pot….hmm, im sure there is some underlying theme here but god knows what it is (stupidity perhaps??)

Adriana Lima:

She is stunning. So while NM kept sending pictures of her in rather aesthetic frames and positions, her face, her eyes, I kept sending pictures of her boobs, butt and legs in that order. See! Guys and girls do see things differently. But nonetheless, consensus between both of us is that we would do her in a heartbeat…thought it would last longer than one…perhaps three or four even

We spoke on quickies:

Foreplay in this case, in my opinion, begins 45 minutes before the actual quickie i.e. telling her what I want to do and where and I think that works very very well…and psi (oh come on, really?! That name is what you want…if you had picked Engelbert Humperdinck I would have agreed more…if you say that name to me over and over, I start giggling) said she had had one quickie and it lasted 15 minute and it wasn’t very good. I can’t say I have had too many but I think half the fun was turning each other on in a crowded room, just talking and well, looking at each other

AIESEC, I suck, I horny!

Take a bunch of over-sexed teenagers in a deserted place with a whole floor to themselves and trouble/hilarity will ensue. I promise you. You can make a bankable movie and call it another teen movie for all I care (so long as I get credit). I remember it was during the winter during one local congress (dig the pun) and I remember hooking up with the x in the bathroom with 40 people asleep on the other side…it was very, satisfying.

And psi hooked up with the male slut of the university, cool enough guy…considering all we spoke about was music and weed.

Meanwhile the guy she liked, her main/continuing/perpetual squeeze AK was hooking up with the president of the organization. Oh dear

Holy hormones Batman!

And then there was TB (unfortunate initials) who really liked this guy who came across as a player (not that I was acquainted with the word back in the day) and now TB is quite intimidating to men since she is dominating and ambitious (I think) and all in all, can be a bit of a man eater. She is the one who went tadpoling and was all for it telling someone that all you need to do is sit back, let the juices flow (rip my ears off now please) and eat cheese toast while junior goes at it….who said men are the only ones who burp, scratch their balls and talk crass? Oh well, she knows what she wants and that be a good thing

Anyway, so she likes the player who I guess doesn’t want to get involved and instead of doing what women do (because I guess that wasn’t working, she took caveman approach i.e. yelled at him for not liking her back. And he is standing behind a mop, trying to shield his not so diminutive stature behind the handle – good job there.

On the nasty in ‘do the nasty-nasty’:

So psi asked me what was the one thing a woman has told me that shocked me…nothing! That’s sad that I had all the theoretical knowledge and…wait a minute, that’s a good thing! Now I just need to find willing subjects and suffice to say that there isn’t too much of a dearth of women who let me practice my cunning linguistics…heeheehee

But yes I did tell her about the following:

The Hitler: stick a finger in through the back and leave her a little Hitler moustache

The Pearl Necklace: cum on her neck

The Cleveland Steamer: dump b/w her boobs

The deer in the headlights: do her from behind and just as you are about to cum, swirl her around and give her a money shot in the eyes blinding her

And the nastiest thing that I could imagine was scat…she said she thought it was a myth leading to the famous lines: Yes Virginia, there is scat, no Virginia, there is no Santa

So that can be used in the future where it will not only kill a kid’s innocence but rape, burn, quarter and bury it.

On substances:

She tried to explain potheads have their own vibe and radar…since I do it once in 4-6 months, I wouldn’t know. But apparently using the word ‘dude’ in delhi is a dead giveaway. Who’da thunk?

11 was introduced to Erasex by psi. Now that’s something I never want to try! I remember 11 telling me that once she and psi did it at psi’s place and her dad came home and they blacked out for about 15 minutes, would keep opening her bedroom door, giggling and going back inside. Great. Idiots

Then we chewed the fat about the Lord of the Rings. And that was the sanest part of the conversation.

Who Stole The Cookie From The Cookie Jar?

I actually reached for the cookies on my desk, put one of them back and grabbed a health bar instead....HAH! I rule!

Am also on eating 5-6 times a day...it works since I eat healthy and don't eat junk...who rules baby who rules?!

A Conversation Between 2 Mature 23 Year Olds...Who Snapped

A conversation on MSN


Psi says:
tring! tring!

Psi says:
tring! tring!

Xxxxx says:
hello?

Xxxxx says:
kaun hai?
(who is it?)

Psi says:
babloo

Psi says:
beta
(son)

Xxxxx says:
nahin, buddha ghar par nahin hai
(no, the old fart isn’t home)

Psi says:
main chachaji bol raha hoon
(this is your uncle speaking)

Xxxxx says:
arrey bola naaa, buddha nahin hai
(oh for pete sakes, I just said the old man isn’t home)

Xxxxx says:
kaun? yeh buddha hai?
(who? Oh is this the old man?)

Psi says:
aaj lajjo ne tuhari yaad dilayi
(Lajjo reminded me of you today)

Xxxxx says:
to fir buddhi nahin hai
(oh, cant hear you…what? No the old lady isn’t home either)

Psi says:
main khet mien thaa
(I was in the fields…)

Xxxxx says:
how long do you think we can do this?

Psi says:
voh lachak lachak ke mere paas aayi
(with a (lack of translation which means with a seductive motion of the hips) she came close)

Psi says:
fir usne apni poonch uthaieee
(then she lifted her tail)

Xxxxx says:
kya? appnay kiskee gaand ko pakra?
(what? Who’s ass did you grab?)

Psi says:
or de maari aisee leher peshaab ki
(and oh! Squirted a forceful jet of piss at me)

Xxxxx says:
ghoray kee?
(a horses?)

Psi says:
mujhe teri yaad aayi
(I remembered you)

Xxxxx says:
aap water esports mein kab say shamil ho gaye
(since when have you started participating in water sports?)

Xxxxx says:
gee thanks

Psi says:
jaise yaad hai lalan tu meri god mien karta thaa
(I remembered how you used to rock in my lap)

Psi says:
lajjo toh lekin gai hai
(but Lajjo is a cow)

Xxxxx says:
dude...i think we drifted off there

Psi says:
isliye aaj mere saath jo hua achha nahin hua
(and that is why, what happened with me today wasn’t good)

Xxxxx says:
buddhay, chup kar
(shut up old man!)

Psi says:
haha

Psi says:
i love you XXXXX

Psi says:
you humour me

and then we spoke about me missing NY, especially the streets which unlike London don’t seem to meander into an eternity and then some
Xxxxx says:
my big broad grid is calling

Xxxxx says:
lesse

Psi says:
if u want a big broad

Xxxxx says:
no no

Xxxxx says:
please no

Psi says:
they're here too

Xxxxx says:
nothing i can spin around when she is on her back

Psi says:
on your very street!

Psi says:
hehehe

Xxxxx says:
“round round baby you make go round”

Xxxxx says:
i knew i was dyslexic when i went to a toga party as a goat

Psi says:
haha

Tuna Fish & Dildos

I like tuna fish.

A friend of mine ruined it for me kinda.

So I took this course in school called Magical Rites and Rituals. It was fun. We learned the symbolism of Easter eggs, came up with spells (my term paper was on advertising and subliminal spells where I picked Victoria’s Secret wherein the voiceover is of a sultry female voice repeating over and over…that technically has all the characteristics of a spell and I got an A)

Anyway, I digress

So apparently it was Ukranian custom to take a fish and put I tup the bride to be while still alive, havae it die in her, cook it in her juices and feed it to the husband. This would ensure he remained faithful.

Now my question is, did the guy get to see this happen? If it did, it put him off going down on a woman forever. I mean it figures, if I fish went up there and died, well heck, I aint going there…its like the canary in the mine. Piff! It’s dead, I’m outta here.

And was it worth it for the woman? First, did it get her off? If it did, ew ew ew. If it didn’t, why would you stuff a wriggling fish up you? Bestiality has its limits right.

But then again, apparently Led Zeppelin did that to a groupie. No fish! Go google it.

So anyway, my friend and I went into paroxysm regarding this tradition and naturally, puns flew fast, furious and wriggly too boot.

Now tuna-fishing is something more than grabbing tuna fish…and even hearing me say that is perverted, not that I wouldn’t mind reeling in tuna…ugh…see what I mean?

Incidentally, if the woman did get off, that isn’t the first recorded weird dildo…I think the Egyptians (Cleopatra) would carve smooth wooden obelisks and fill them with bees and put them up themselves…

Look, I got balls and all, but a woman who can do that, risk a bee getting loose and stinging there, god, what a woman

Swifties

So this too is from Jill Twiss’ blog.

My first exercise was to write one-hundred and one Tom Swifties.

For those of you that are unclear as to what a Tom Swiftie is (because you, unlike me, actually clean your room when your supposed to and don't eat Cheetos ever), the books defines it as "a joke that uses a slightly different double meaning for an adverb." Here was the example they gave:

"I dove into the pool and knocked all my teeth out," he explained shallowly.

You see? You see how it works? You write something dorky and stick a pun on the end and call it funny

I get it:

"I have an STD," she said crabbily

"I love tuna fish," she said sapphically (now that’s an inside joke, albeit not so funny)

"From now on, I'll be your bra," he said supportively.

"I'm pretty sure that's not necessary," she said flatly.

"And you have great melons," chimed in the fruity pervert

Heheehee

Chuckles All Around

This made me chuckle
Courtesy: Jill Twiss (www.jilltwiss.blogspot.com)
Also, thanks to her, discovered a funny woman is a sexy woman.
Unless her sense of humor involves a sledgehammer and a watermelon.
Unless she is in a bikini.




Geography is not my strong point.

I'm not sure what my strong point IS, but we can safely rule out geography.

I think eating donuts while watching cartoons might be my strong point. But I digress...To be fair, though, I think that Europe makes it a little difficult for us (makes geography difficult, that is. Not eating donuts. We're pretty good at that.)

Like what's with that whole England/Great Britain/United Kingdom thing? Am I the only one that can't keep them straight?I am convinced that Europe does this deliberately so as to confuse us. It is part of a keenly crafted plan.

You see, if America ever gets really angry with this particular area of the world and decides to launch an attack, I think the scenario will go something like this:

TOUGH ARMY GUY (brandishing a large weapon): Hey, we're here to attack Great Britain!

THE BRITISH (in charming British accent): Oh, no no no, this is England.

TOUGH ARMY GUY: Really? Oh, sorry dude. Our mistake. Can you tell us how to get to Great Britain, then?

THE BRITISH: Oh sure. It's...uhhhhh...right below North Dakota.

TOUGH ARMY GUY: Right below North Dakota? Wouldn't that be....South Dakota?

THE BRITISH: Nope, England. Errrr...I mean, Great Britain.

TOUGH ARMY GUY: Oh. Well, I guess we came a long way for nothing. Well talley ho, then.

THE BRITISH (gleefully): Tee hee! We fooled them.

TOUGH ARMY GUY (whilst checking out a map, several hours later): Rats!! Foiled again!

Bad Karma

If, during the past two years, I had a chance of being with either AB or SB, I would have left the ex.

I have no right to feel like crap. It’s just karma acting as it should and everything is right with the world.

And with that, I accept all the reasons for her breaking up with me and make peace with that part of y life. Of course today I told her that the next time I called would be when I met the faceless one. She started crying saying she didn’t mean to hurt me. I know you didn’t baby, but you did.

And I want to rebuild myself, move on and pick up the phone when I am what the world sees. And not the guy who was an open book to you.

Home Leaving Me Again...First the Ex, Now the Folks...

I miss my mommy!

Well, considering I have never said that to them to their face, always in an email, feel kind of guilty. But anyway, after 5 years of leaving home or having home and everything it means, kind of disconnect at will…I seemed to have turned it off when my folks visited.

Oh dear

Anyway, I guess when I go back in December, I am more relaxed and don’t have to worry about stuff and can shed the responsible part of me. I am glad I have busy weeks ahead, will keep me out of a funk.

And of course, once I am back to NY, then no worries since I have more than enough to keep me busy. Nonetheless, I have a bad feeling my heartbreak feelings will resurface once I get back to my city and look out the window I have sat beside so many times in the past.

Oh and SB, my best friend and one of the three mucked up – she got an email saying that the embassy usually takes 5 days to process the visa…and her flight is Friday night. Man, I love that girl (oh alright, could fall in l***) but she seriously mucks up things like this…twit…and I was so looking forward to spending time with her…haven’t done that in over 6 months…plus I love shamelessly flirting with her coz it leaves her all flustered (an I think to some degree that I may fall for her again and rob her of a friend)

:o)

London To Do

The Zoo

Nacho Libre

Pirates of the Caribbean

Ministry of Sound

Tate Modern

Avenue Q

Any place with live music

Ethiopian food

Lebanese food

Notting Hill festival

The Aquarium

Liar Liar Pants On Fire

Me:
dont get over me too soon
:o)

always hoped id be "unforgettable"




The Ex:


unforgettable... that's what you are... no one, actually nothing, can ever replace what we had... don't be an idiot!




LIAR!!
one miserable little heart I have and even that had to get squished...bugger, I need friends and a drink...thank the lord this will be a good month in that sense

Grabbing the Wheel

“so, how was the weekend”

“Not bad, so you relieved your folks are leaving?”

….

“So what did you do over the weekend”

“Oh nothing much”

“You must have done something”

“Oh, just hung out”

Im into emotional masochism aren’t i?

I knew she was hiding the fact that she was meeting him, I knew that on Friday when she got riled up at me for even asking what she was planning.

Ugh, and I have all these mental images of her hooking up with her faceless guy and at this point I hope they both burn in hell as will i

Anyway, I have a brief outline of what I want to do with myself this year, I have all these imaginings of interactions with certain people and how I want them to go and unto that end will work on self, with the hopes that I do improve myself albeit for the wrong reasons.

But heck, ends justify the reasons and my reasons for improvement aren’t all that noble.

But I know:

1) how I want to look i.e. need to get my ass in shape and the rest of me as well…no, just kidding but heck, my belt is at a notch hereunto unknown (as in I can hitch it tighter) and I am happy about that. Also I completely love the way I feel when I have been working out. I really feel more confident and I don’t know why I do because I know it is a process that takes time but even then first step makes me feel great

Eureka! This is why I write. I think its two fold (feeling great that is). One is that I know I can look (a leeeetle) better if I lose a few (read several) pounds but more importantly, I feel like I am in control; that I want something and I am working toward it and that’s one thing the universe can’t fuck up (unless a truck runs me over to a squelching noise)

I think when it comes to certain things, I have complete control. And to that end, am going to work on everything that I have control over just to piss of the universe and say hah! Can’t take that away now can you you big gaping star-decked hole…

2) I want to make sure I have followed through with at least one hobby and in this case there are 4 things I know I want to pick up i.e. cooking, photography, the guitar and yoga. I think the last two may be easier since I have already looked up yoga classes (agree with AB that I don’t want anything too meditative, last thing I want is to fall asleep on the yoga mat). I have also looked up geeeetaaar classes and they aren’t too expensive ($35-40 per hour, once a week, individual lessons). And with me, when I really want to know something, I know I pick it up fast so well, this should be good.

The Regular

The smallest things can leave me with a warm fuzzy feeling.

So I went down to Ed’s Diner. The bouncer is the best guy there, tall black guy in a suit and a white shirt every weekend. I have met him twice pretty drunk (me, not him) and he remembers me. He reminds me of one of the guys I roomed with at Uva…anyway, he goes, “hey man, hows it going, long time”

(its always nice to be remembered)

“Not bad, a bit heartbroken, a bit happy, a bit sad, a bit-down-and-a-bit-up-and-about”

He smiles.

So I walk in and ‘La Bamba’ is playing and that always gets me doing a happy dance. So I place my order with the guy and its not his job but he is accommodating and I appreciate that.

Then I stand in a corner (“losing my religion, aww life, its bigger, its bigger than…) and I see these four friends loudly singing the next song – “Say A Little Prayer”

That was enough to make me sing with them across the room. I love music, you get this instant connection.

Anyway, I’m leaving and the guy behind the counter is like, ketchup, mustard?

“No, thanks. I got ketchup at home. Oh wait, I don’t have any mustard”

“Here, take this”, handing me a whole bottle.

I give the guy at the door the dude-one-hand-handshake and make my way out in the drizzle.

I don’t know why all that made me happy, couldn’t have been more than 5 mintues.

But I am…and I feel fine.

A Different High

I like talking to her.

I really do. It kind of feels like going home and that’s one of the reasons I like her.

Anyway, so went with the folks to the National Gallery today. I realized two things:

1) I don’t like everything Van Gogh did, I don’t like ‘The Sunflowers’s

2) I love Renoir, I don’t like divisionism, its to clean and sanitized and the colors stay in the lines. What’s the fun in that?

I like impressionism, it’s the closes expression to my own head as there ever can be, the colors (thoughts) swirl and when peer straight at it, it doesn’t make sense, it hurts my head. Take a step back; see the gestalt. It makes sense, I feel good. I like being able to step back and appreciate everything in a whole, there are brush strokes that suck and are terrible but still are part of the whole and they fit for better or for worse; heck, if those sucky strokes weren’t there, the picture would be incomplete.

So fine, life isn’t hunky-dory and it isn’t clean, its not divisionistic but step back and its fabulous (such a New York word…well, at least I don’t say ‘y’all’ any more and I have moved from Bourbon to Mojitos).

I’m actually on my own in 5 years and I feel fine (god damn it, this always reminds me of James Brown!)

I think for all my bitching and moaning about the Ex and all the shed/unshed tears and the pain, I am better off. I think that month was the sucky stroke in my life.

And I guess part of growing up is knowing there will be more sucky strokes, heck there may be a whole series of them, but even though there is no rational way of knowing it, I know I will be fine.

I sound like a hippy.

And that too, is fine

:o)

Anyway, enough on that, as much as I love impressionism, it rubs off on my, my head starts going all fuzzy, and I kind of being to look at everything around me an impressionist would, nothing is clear but a swirl of colors. Oh and another thing, these are the only paintings I can actually hear. Like take this one:

I can hear it, I can walk on those cobble stones. Anyway, have a huge print in my room, hope to find my equivalent of this somewhere, some day