What did I do last night? Perhaps my Tweets will give you a hint.
5:30p.m. I wish someone wld bring me a pizza. & a hot 25yroldGuy- or that a hot 25yroldGuy wld bring me a hot pizza or I knew where to order – both
7:30p.m. Well…I got my pizza DESPITE jackhole East Street closings w/NO WARNING. Now working on finding that 25yrold. And drinking. A LOT.
7:32p.m. This wine better be good cuz I bloody-wounded myself w/the corkscrew uncorking this bastard. I wasn’t planning on wine making me bleed!
7:45p.m. Im just about two breaths away from making myself some foxglove tea & calling it a fucking “and scene” fml
7:50p.m. In case anyone asks you, yes, all men are pigs.
9:45p.m. Pls explain to me WTF diff it makes what we call ourselves if you’re asking me to spend time w/you & we both know what sex organs we have?
10:00p.m. Oh mother of all that is rifuckingdiculous
1:00a.m. Ever notice how the overwhelming sense of inertia leads you to indulge in ridiculously risky & dangerous behaviors & emotions
1:15a.m. Exercise: imagining one by one people you know dying; what would you regret you’d not said/done? Fix it NOW. Before it’s too late. Or, try.
Yes. I was in a mood. I will leave it to your imagination what prompted most of the Tweets; believe me, your story will be far superior to and much more interesting than the reality.
But I will share this: I have watched “Project Runway” since it began. I love “Project Runway” no matter how uninspiring its rosters of contestants can sometimes be. They can’t all be Mondo Geurra (Click here for his website) – whose inexplicable loss of Season 8 was the closest I ever came to giving up on Runway. Luckily, he returned to take ALL STARS, as he should have. I also kind of semi-worship (that’s quite a run of qualifiers, eh?) the Season 4 winner, Christian Siriano, but I don’t think he would be my friend, and I feel sure Mondo would be, so, there’s that.
I watch Runway with my dear friend A (one half of A[sq]) although, technically, we don’t watch TOGETHER as in the same room, but, rather, TOGETHER as in furiously texting one another as the show goes on. It is loads of fun. This season we both despise Ken. There is no chance he’ll win. He’s in the bottom (and deservedly so) week after week and the only reason he remains – I feel sure – is because the producers like the queeny drama he brings. He has lots of fits, a tendency to go off on truly rude and inappropriate swearing tirades at other contestants for no good reason, and has such an inflated opinion of himself and his talent, I can only assume he is pathologically insecure and over-compensates by behaving in such a manner. CRAZY. ANNOYING. Thus, good reality t.v.
By the time Runway came on – re-run of last week’s episode at 8, then this week’s new one at 9 – I had been drinking for – well – okay – a while. I’ve been hitting the red wine pretty hard lately (as in, during this two week house/pet sitting gig) for some reason I can’t quite figure out. My usual wine intake is one or two glasses while visiting friends, one or twice a month maybe. Now, all of a sudden, I’m a half a bottle to a bottle a night kind of guy again.
Again. See, I was almost an alcoholic once. (He types as he checks the time, and walks away from his laptop as it is 4:56pm which means he can have his first glass in four minutes – time to uncork and aerate.) I was pretty miserable with my life and what made it bearable was – at first – a glass of wine at night. Which turned into a few. Which turned into a bottle. Which turned into almost two bottles. Which turned into me realizing that I was surrendering to my genetic predisposition for addiction and so, I quit drinking. Pretty much. For a few years. Slowly I have returned to the fold; my recent love affair with Tequila ended in something of a disaster (see prior posts – I have lost the respect of a couple of close friends for my drunken behavior) and so I quit drinking that, and was reduced to the occasional beer – but I was limiting myself to two and NOT talking to anyone after more than one. So, how did this bottle of wine a night again thing happen in just two weeks? Well, one really, I was pretty hooked by day four of this stay. Don’t know – but I do know this; there is a fabulous wine and beer store near the gym and on their recommendation I tried the Peirano Estate Vineyards Petite Sirah, 2011 Lodi vintage. It was effing unbelievable. I went back for more and wouldn’t you know – by the middle of this week I got the last bottle. DAMN THE LUCK!
I’m now sipping a delicate Cabernet Sauvignon. And by sipping I mean trying not to gulp. And by trying not to, I mean failing. I’m waiting for a text. I will likely be waiting all night. I’ve done a lot of waiting in my life. And by waiting I mean trying not to text first. And by trying not to text first I mean trying not to text someone who said they would text who clearly meant “please leave me alone” and will never text but it takes me a few (multiple – far too many for a person my age, iq, and experience) to get that they are NEVER NEVER texting me EVER.
I don’t know, do you think Mondo would return my texts?