Afterglow
March 31st, 2007 / 6 comments »Last night was fun. I actually ventured out of my isolated NoWa confines and metup with the rest of the world at my friend Suppa’s apt. The group got large and migrated to Metropolitan Bar, which was loud and busy and comfy and fun (Amoretto & Coke tastes just like Dr.Pepper, fyi, they’re dangerous). I spent a lot of time catching up with ppl I used to work with @ HUDSON, still some of my favorite folks and still the sexiest fools I know. Though I drifted in and out of the evening sometimes wondering why I was there (being miscast with a group of extremely attractive people can play with your head), I was really glad I’d came along. If I hadn’t it just woulda been another destructive night in my apartment, ignoring the things that need to get done, indulging things I need to leave alone, and sulking over some work drama I can’t seem to shake. I’ve been a hot mess lately now that I’m left to my own devices, it was good for me to be with actual people doing actual things outside of my comfort zone.
The night ended in the sinful, wee hours with a suprising bang. Left him naked in bed this morning, crashed out. He left me branded with a hickey. The pretty ones are always overzealous.
Sunrise in Brooklyn
As I slipped out of that sleeping Brooklyn apartment early this morning @ 6:28am, I felt like a man in a foreign country starting his day on unchartered land. Making my way across Conselya to the corner of Metropolitan to catch the L into the city for work, I noticed the sun coming up across the rest of Williamsburg. Lorimer Avenue was starting to glow, me too a little bit. I had this optimistic sense of relief and hope. Still do.
BeSpectacled
March 14th, 2007 / 9 comments »I got new glasses.
Call me Goil.
(Goil? call me!)
Contact lenses are bugging my eyes lately and I’m trying to rock some options. I know they’re all a little bit Goil-ish from Top Design, I know, but he’s fucking adorable so whatever. Seriously, how cute is he? According to his MySpace he’s 34, lives in Brooklyn, and is in a relationship. If it weren’t for his smile and his style I’d just be totally turned off by those 3 strikes, but suddenly I’m all about the wee little Gaysian. Fuck those punkass bitches for making him cry in tonight’s episode. No love for the Haters the Haters mad cuz he got floor seats at the Lakers. Hang in there, Goil. Would it help to know that I totally want to buy one of your (gar)GOIL tees, and maybe one dirrty night of some asian loving? Also, Todd Oldham is a fucking robot. He’s a sneaker-wearing robot covered in concealer and bronzer.
Back to my new frames. Whaddya think?
UPDATED: So yeah, apparently no one makes passes at boys who wear glasses. I confess it’s a shame when your livin’ in a city that’s the size of a box and nobody knows your name. OK, I lifted that from Skee Lo but still, for a whack oldschool track it rings true on all levels.
Root, Clease, Regroup
March 4th, 2007
Root Canal
March 3rd, 2007 / 3 comments »I’m typing this entry from work with shakyass hands and a Terror plastered on my face. Getting a root canal today @ 4:00pm, going to Vitaldent cuz they apparently have a guy there who specializes and can knock it out fast. I’m freaking out. I know that once it’s over the tooth is technically DEAD and therefore won’t hurt anymore but shit, I still have to sit in that chair and get my gums stabbed with needles and novacaine. Am I really NOT gonna feel a pipe cleaner yanking the nerve our of my tooth? Sweet Lord, don’t let them kill me. Can you die from the pain? I didn’t have time to do a Yahoo! search on this (fuck Google) but I’m sure it’s happened. Wiki says there are ways to fuck the procedure up! WHAT?! I’m going to die, I just know it. I’m going to die w/o ever having gotten busy in a Burger King bathroom. Shit.
Do me a favor: don’t let Howard K. Stern and my mom fight over where to bury my remains. Bury me on Manhattan, winners. Dig up a hole in the basement of that cool apartment building @ the corner of 81st & Columbus and just stuff me there. I love that building and I’d really go peacefully just knowing that if I couldn’t afford the rent during my lifetime, at least I get the last word and they’re stuck with me for eternity Also? don’t let them put “He was short” on my tombstone. I’m thinking something inspirational; maybe something like, “Here lies Chris. What lacked in height he made up for in bulge. Holla.”
I DON’T WANT TO GO!
Okay, trying to put on a brave front. Fuck this shit. Bring on the pain. As I leave, believe I’m stompin’ but when I come back, boy, I’m comin’ straight outta Compton. Get on your knees, bitches… and pray for my doomed ass. HARD.
UPDATE: I lived. Not the nightmare I was expecting. Hardly felt a thing, never even whimpered. I have to go back for round 2 cuz one of my canals was inflamed and needs to heal more before they fill it (no clue what any of this exactly means except that I’ll be sitting in that chair again next Saturday). So I’ve got this temporary on it, which feels WEIRD as hell, like a wad of gum is stuck to my tooth, but whatever. I walked outta there with my limbs intact and suprisingly chipper, grabbed my prescription from the pharmacy and took myself shopping. Urban Outfitters, Macy’s, Old Navy, H&M, and Kmart were all happy to see me.
(hey you)
March 1st, 2007
(still)
Lost from day to day
So I turn another way
With a laugh, a kind hello
Some small talk with a few friends I know
I forget I’m not over you
for a while
A wave, an easy grin
A smile to put them in
With other lives to listen to
And some work I’ve got to do
I forget I’m not over you
for a while
Days go by with no empty feeling
And I work and work and forget
Until I go home and touch my hand and feel my skin
and I remember that you’re gone
People say to me, “You need company
When you have some time to spend
Drop around when you need a friend.”
They forget I’m not over you
for a while