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A Dizzy In The Lizzy

( 09/ 27/ 2; 02; 11) - Zero to Sickening in 1 month! Now that's fast!

So I ain't no dummy. I know that Steph and I are always talking about each other, and we can't keep our hand off of each other when we're together, and more often than not, even when we're hanging out in a group one of us will trail off in the middle of a sentence in favor of kissing the other for minutes on end. It's just like that.
I'm not sure whether it's the new relationship excitement or if it's gonna be like this for the indefinite future. I certainly don't see the passion abating...

And we've talked about this- her friends are all excited for her, they keep telling me that they love and I'm much better than her psycho ex (duh) and that they've never seen her so happy.
I hope my friends feel the same way. I know a lot of my closer friends experienced my post-KT depression firsthand and hated to see me feel that way. So they should be happy to see me happy.

I've never been one of those people who shout "Get a room!" when I see a couple kissing, at least not seriously. I'm always happy when my friends are happy. One of my life missions is to ensure that all of my friends get laid as much as possible. So I just hope they all reciprocate... and they don't get disgusted when I plant some big sloppy kisses on my woman in very public places...


( 09/ 23/ 2; 02; 02) - Ones and Zeros, I miss my Steffie

This morning at 9:30 AM I got off the M86 bus to drop off some film on 3rd Ave. Then I crossed Lex to get to catch the 4-5-6 train downtown to work. I rounded a newsstand to get to the stairs down into the subway and I almost missed it:
"Stephanie Misses Benny" scrawled in chalk right by the stairwell on the sidewalk.
I think I almost cried.

Apparently in my morning haze and my rush to get to work, I missed similar notes and graffiti from my girl written on the sidewalk outside the door to my apartment building, the bus stop where I get on the bus & the stop where I get off the bus. Needless to say I would only see the note she wrote on the Northwest entrance to the 86th Street train station, but there were notes written at the other 4 entrances to the station as well.

We had been planning to tag eachother's neighborhoods but I must say that I was ecstatic that she followed through. This girl kicks ass.

I'm sorta speechless. I can't think of anything else to write. All I know is I wish I was curled up with her in her bed right now instead of making 1s and 0s at work.

Deleriously happy Benny

1110101001001110100101011011000101101011000100101000101110101010101010101010


( 09/ 20/ 2; 02; 12) - This is a sigh of relief in 4-D, passing thru time and space, calming me

My first 50-hour work week ever nears its end.
Midday Friday, looking back, I suppose I have proven my worth to my employers. It was actually kinda cool leaving work in a suit & tie, sunglasses on, at 8PM. I felt useful, sorta, and very yuppie, but hey, I guess that's where I'm at now. I couldn't say that I'd want it to be like this for the rest of my life, because even if you're earning $100K a year, if you have to work 10 hour days, when do you spend all that money? I suppose you could retire early with a huge bank account, but then you've wasted your 20s & 30s and possibly all of your 40s getting all hectic and frantic and sweaty in your office. What kind of life is that?
I'd rather work less, earn less and play more.
Count my pennies, buy that Viper I've always wanted when I turn 27 or so... I am easy to please. Used Vipers go for $30-40K on eBay. That's not entirely out of the question.

Still the long half of the day ahead of me but knowing that I'm free after that is comforting.
Party weekend. Chas coming to town. Prolly gonna wake up at 6AM on Sunday and go to Exit w/ STeph & friends to dance. When the good music is on and the dedicated crowd is there...

Life is peachy now, I made it through my darkness just like I thought I would. I didn't know how long it would take me but as it turns out, it was about 9 or 10 months since KT called it quits.
I don't even miss her anymore except as a friend.

Steph is all I need now, she's everything I didn't realize that I wanted.
I know my friends are happy for me, even though I'm spending less time with them.

B


( 09/ 17/ 2; 02; 02) -

Haven't felt the need to post my thoughts lately. I guess that means things are on the up & up.
Been sleeping too little and working very hard as my coworkers seem to be mostly sick or on vacation or equally as swamped in work.
Steph is great, as always.
Things have been very jumbled in my head in a sort of raucous party type of way as opposed to a stormy rage kind of way, the former being the better way to have jumbled thoughts.

I feel like life is accelerating... I'm surprised that two weeks have gone by every time I get a paycheck. This disturbs me because I've always wanted to savor my life, and especially my 20s. But I guess jam-packing my days with activities and things to the point of physical exhaustion IS a way of valuing my time. I think I just miss down time. Steph is always on the go, she sorta wears me out. She even wears herself out, the poor thing.

Could be worse. I could be wallowing in self-pity and depression, which I'm not.

I still get the feeling that the world is changing around me in a rapid & uncontrollable manner. Maybe that's just because I was brought up in such a a stable home & family environment that now that I'm more in touch with myself and the world around me, I notice all the changes and they frighten me a little.
Maybe it's just this city. Holy fuck it really IS the center of the world. Everyone and his fucking mom is here, or wants to be here or is coming here to visit or whatever.

Batman lives here.
Movie stars live here.
The UN is here, for fuck's sake.
The friggin stock exchange.

In the words of Charles:
"Jesus bouncing Christ on a God damn pogo stick!!!!!!!"

Word. Welcome to the jungle, Benny.


( 09/ 13/ 2; 02; 03) - Dad on raising a family:

"... I hope you realize how lucky you were to have brothers who indulged you and played with you rather than beating you up. And I guess, the way things turned out, they are lucky they indulged you and played with you rather than beating you up. As for me, I don't regret the lack of physical punishment, the way things turned out. love, Dad"

This is funny for a lot of reasons, not the least of which is the fact that every time my Dad turned his back, my brothers would beat me up. Thanks Dad.



( 09/ 12/ 2; 02; 11) - Sucker-Punch Day.

My boy Tommy from CT called me up last night laughing. He and his brother were talking about a national holiday dedicated to the Sep. 11th attacks (no doubt they were smoking weed on his front porch at the time). I guess the day has been named, unofficially, "Patriot Day", but Tommy thought that was lame. He said there's another real holiday with a similar name, Patriots' Day. I'm not sure whether that's correct or not but Tommy has a remarkable memory for random facts like that. In any case, he said he had a better idea...

"Basically on September 11th, we got sucker-punched as a country. So why not make Sep. 11th 'National Sucker-Punch Day' to honor that?"

The idea is this: all year you figure out who in your life need to get sucker-punched the most. Who was the biggest dick? Who fucked you over the most? On September 11th, you run up to them and deck them. It's that simple. No hit-backs. No complaining. No police.

If someone sucker-punches you, the only way to get them back is if they were the person you had been planning on sucker-punching all year. The whole point, though, is that it's a surprise attack. You have to be sneaky, come up behind them or jump out of a car or do whatever you have to do to get the jump on them.

Sucker-Punch Day.


( 09/ 11/ 2; 02; 10) - Necessities for 9/11/02 (you can never be too prepared):

Am I paranoid? Ever so slightly. Do you blame me?
I came to work late today, plus I avoided the subways by taking a bus.

Things I brought to work:
-Starbucks coffee
-traded briefcase for camera, lenses & film
-traded work shoes for steel-toed and -shanked boots
-handkerchief
-very sharp pocket knife
-charged cell phone (duh)

I am fully confident I can react quickly to any situation I may find myself in today. I can run, cut stuff, kick through doors/walls, survive in a fire, call the authorities, subdue punkasses. Sometimes I like to feel like a Boy Scout.
Bring it.


( 09/ 10/ 2; 02; 04) - Pica-chew. Stop eating metal, my Diva. I am the Army & I don't even do that.

Yesterday looked like it was going to be a nice, normal night. You know, back from work, go to the gym, jet down to a lounge that a friend just started spinning at, back up to the UES to chilly chill with my girl for a couple hours, bed.

That was until my girl decided she would swallow her tongue ring.

So after the gym I went up to her apt and spent the evening and night with her making sure she didn't start turning pale or coughing up blood. She made it through to morning, although our schedules are off by about 4 or 5 hours so I didn't get to bed till late. Still, it was a valid excuse to spend the night at her place. (Now don't get any funny ideas...) We watched HBO-Z. There was a show on called Crack U.S.A. that had us laughing hysterically, all about America's battle with crack addiction. Probably not the best idea for a girl with sharp metal abjects lodged in her digestive tract.

She managed to look sexy even with stabbing stomach pains... what a woman.

Wonder if there's a positive-reinforcement strategy we could use to curb her pica behavior.


( 09/ 09/ 2; 02; 09) - Didn't even have to use my AK...

Due to celebrating Site-op's B-Day on Thursday night, I spent most of friday in an alcohol-induced stupor. We drank Delerium Tremens, which is a beer with a *gasp* 9% alcohol content:
http://www.beerparadise.ltd.uk/delerium.htm
This means that you get very drunk very fast, and possibly spend the next day suffering from delerium tremens:
http://www.breathewell.com/Critical_Care/Delerium_Tremens/delerium_tremens.html
Not fun. Thankfully I didn't get that far in my alcohol abuse, but the binging Thurs night pretty much dictated that I spend Friday night doing zip. That was fine by me, I slept from 8PM-midnight and then 3AM-11AM on Sat.

Saturday I spent reading and playing B-ball in Carl Shultz park by the East River.
Saturday night I went out with my girl and her friends and my roomie and her boyfriend to Webster Hall, our usual club. Oh how I love Webster Hall. Not for anything it really offers as a club (long line outside even when we get comped in, outrageous drink prices, pretty mediocre house music played on the 2nd floor), but for the fact that I always have a great time there with Steph.

Steph
is
awesome.

After we left at 3AM (following Thomas' mildly embarrassing pants incident) I went home and turned on IM and IMed back & forth with Steph until the wee hours when we couldn't type anymore. So I called her. We ended up staying up till 8AM talking on the phone, spilling our guts and really getting all the bullshit out of the way, all the war stories and crises and incidents were laid out on the table. I gotta say, that feels great, that she knows of the deepest darkest times of my soul now and not only does she not begrudge me for any of it, she's totally supportive and great and helpful. There's more than meets the eye with this woman, I'm so excited.

Sunday I woke up, an old friend was in town and he came over for coffee. Then I went out to Astoria, ate a big yummy brunch, and started to learn how to spin jungle. Payed video games. Watched my Adult Swim cartoons.

All in all, a great weekend. The first truly great weekend I've had in months. I spent not one second feeling sorry for myself. And I deserve it, shit.


( 09/ 06/ 2; 02; 10) - Owwwwwch drunk at work like a big dumb idiot

"I feel sorry for people who don't drink. When they wake up in the morning that's the best they're going to feel all day."

-Frank Sinatra

I ran out on the tab at the bar that site-op and I were drinking at last night. That's the first and last time you out-drink me, black man. Sorry about sticking you with the tab.

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