I have been putting off writing this post because so much went on and I don’t think I can remember all of it.
So Friday night for once was a quiet night home. In NY, whenever someone at work asks me of my plans for the weekend, every now and then I say, a quiet night home, where all I want to do is hit the gym, take a long shower and do small things like sort mail, read for half an h our, watch a movie or play on the X-Box…just that, seriously! And it so rarely happens…SB calls and says, hey we are going out, which is less of a question and more an implication that ‘we’ includes ‘me’.
Or Filmmaker comes over and we have wine and go have dinner and end up buzzed and go out again.
But yes, I do this thing where I tell one group of friends I am meeting the other and vice versa and everyone is happy, including me in a ragged t shirt and boxers, watching a movie or just toking
Oh and when I mentioned doing that (dodging friends) to AB she said she did the same thing and that we were soul mates…women! But hey…you know…heck…oh fuck.yeah I know, I’m a sap, throw a brick at me now
So anyway, Friday night, night home…I think…sorry, weekend is fuzzy. Though Saturday, Hobo and I were on our hands and knees….pervs! we were cleaning and by cleaning I mean doing poncha, scrubbing every single thing, vacuuming twice, scouring the bathroom floors and shower stall and we finally collapsed at 5pm. But the place looks beee-ooooo-tiful…say it with me people, beeeee-oooo-tiful…almost felt sinful living in the place considering Hobo is a girl and sheds 60 hair more than I and I am growing a winter pelt. We decided
a) we will keep it clean forever and ever
b) if people visit, they will be given bubble wrap shoes and can walk around and make delightful popping noises when there is a lull in conversation
c) there will be a blue pig piggy-bank on the table where people donate money for us to buy cleaning material with
So, that then Saturday evening comes Poppy. And I was trying to think of a pseudonym for her but well, it’s the perfect name for a lesbian (lesbonym a la Friends style), substance taking, rubber wearing, scatological lady who cracked me up.
Oh yeah, we discovered mint tea…its this middle-eastern food place a few doors down ( I love how many things, including Ed’s Diner are a few doors down). And I love it…its…no, seriously, if you come to
So first I believe Hobo and Pops hit the wine and I am not up for it, not after two weekends ago when my neurons seem to coagulate into one big steaming pile of random thoughts and wheezings. But then Poppy pulled out the fun stuff and I was so very ready to (hobo, apologies but I like phrasing it this way) boom the godddang Shankar yee’haw! (look, I went to college in the southern part of the
And see, we made elaborate, geeky, Aquarian preparations – McVities chocolate covered cookies with strawberries, big bag of chips, big bag of chocolates and enough ciggies.
Course, we proceed to imbibe, and I love the taste of it, ire ally do, weed doesn’t do it for me too much, too sharp a buzz and too intense. I like my hash and hash loves me. I really like the gentle mellowness that washes over you, I don’t get a hangover, I sleep like a log and I don’t do it too often. Seriously? This is an ideal place for a rant on legalizing it but well…
Poppy’s mother was/is a fashion designer who did clothing for the likes of Mick Jagger and other people that make your eyes glaze over and make you hear guitar riffs…and she was telling me that she lives in some fuck-all village but since her mother was famous, she grew up in the company of the Rolling Stones, Aerosmith, Naomi Campbell…
Of course, the kids her age in the village didn’t know who all these people were so she couldn’t really talk about them…I have to say, and I told her, it seems a bit of a schizophrenic reality when on one side all you have is the cows and ride to school in a tractor with a sheep dog on your lap and the following weekend, you and your sister are kids running past Jagger or the guys from Duran Duran after a fashion show.
And then there’s her dad who is homophobic and sent her abusive emails and there was a restraining order out against him.
Or the time that a girl wanted Poppy, to um, make on her and Poppy, in her what I am guess is characteristic what not knowing her all that well, well, poppy just went ahead and made on her…and it was funny hearing her describe it like its something normal, that you close your eyes and imagine sitting on the pot but instead you look down and see someone…anyway, it was really surreal because here I am mashed out my head, listening to Pearl Jam (ahhhh, the memories) and poppy is ….
Its like I drift around, my mind does that is, one hand I am watching the TV…next I hear a patch of a really good riff on the music system, then poppy talks about scat, Hobo is dancing, Outkast is playing, the cats in the alley are calling and I’m just sitting strumming…
I like how time becomes all gluey and thick and stretchable when I’m there…like bits mash together, its uneven and you can just sink right into it.
We were listening to U2’s With or Without You and I go to my room to change because Hobo and Poppy wanna go out. I hear singing and at first I think it’s the Hobo because if the windows are open, you can hear everything in the living room in the bedroom. But then I realize it isn’t her…I get back to see Poppy and Hobo having removed all my books from the ledge, leaning out and I’m thinking, okay I am way too spaced for this right now, where’s are the bodies attached tot these legs? Oh wait, I stick out the window myself and see them first and make sure all of the is still there. I look up a few stories to the building in from and see two (gay?) guys who we proceed to make small talk…so heck, now I know the neighbours.
We go down Old Compton and Poppy points out the Admiral Duncan which has a pink signboard and is obviously gay. Apparently, the place was bombed by Islamic fundamentalists (fatalists) because it was gay central…apart from the fact that I live a few doors over, I just felt sick…you don’t go killing someone because they are gay..i mean if you know them and they did something horrible and deserve it, fine…but you don’t kill someone you don’t know, you don’t hurt them and you don’t do it in such a way at least
So anyway, she pointed out a sex shop which is known for the PVC clothes they carry and Poppy went with her mother there once…apparently they were looking at PVC vests and whole body suits and the cashier looks at them and goes something to the effect, “oh you two are so cute together, how long have you been with one another”
Yeah…so if I ever go to a sex shop with my mom and someone insinuates I am there with her, I don’t think I can take it with the aplomb poppy seemed to demonstrate…I mean yeah, so I have toked with my mum once but it was once and then too it was way too surreal
Anyway, what else, well I think we had 8 between the three of us…and I loved it…uhoh, I think I am rediscovering my love for hash…and goa is going to be a blast!
Oh yesterday was the Ex’s birfday…and I had to be polite and called and of course, I was an hour early but heck,, I figures she would have been inundated with calls at midnight (she wasn’t apparently because I called at midnight and she sounded a bit baleful). But yeah, we spoke for 15 minutes and well, at least I get the feeling she misses me…she used the same cutesy names when we were together and said it felt like forever and then some that we hadn’t spoken in...anyway, point being she is going to be in Bombay in December when I go to visit 11ses and TB…and I really hope that while the world is small, Bombay is large enough for me to avoid her…and if I do, Goa is potent enough to obliterate this year from memory…so, who’s with me??
Oh and congratulations to Hobo for finding part time job…am very proud of her and will post pictures of her new work place if they let me in and if they let me take pictures…no, it isn’t what you think, it’s a lesbian sex toy women’s health store where guys can only enter as guests