The Sword of Damocles Falls on Bunni

"You will stand outside on the green lawn, your face up toward the sun; your hands will be outstretched, palms open; and you will speak these words: "What have I done, what have I done, what have I done." WASP by Steve Martin

Ok so I get online today and there on my buddy list is Damocles. Remember that promise to give me a motorcycle ride no matter what happened on the trip? Well, much as I thought, it was "I promise to give you a motorcycle ride no matter what happens on this trip as long as it involved you sleeping with me." I Im him casual like, I say "Oh hey, you are back." What does he respond with "You're brilliant." (Actually I would like to say now that I should have saved the conversation but I was so angry I just closed the text box, but trust me this only happened two hours ago so it is fairly accurate.) So I'm like "Hey hey look who is getting pissy for no reason." (I didn't write that.) I write to him that he owes me a motorcycle ride and he tells me that he doesn't honor his promises to women who act like children. Ok now I am pissed. He went off with other chicks and I just ignored him. I didn't make scenes or chase after him. I just acted like he wasn't there and he pretty much did the same thing. At least I had some taste with his replacement. I could have replaced him with any old fifty year old. At least I chose someone cute. Then he goes on about how he doesn't appreciate the rumors I spread about him?! The only rumor I knew about was the rumor that we slept together. I don't know what rumors he is talking about and in typical "mature" male fashion he won't tell me. (That whole you should already know what you did act-because that's the hallmark of the truly emotionally evolved.) I tell him, "Listen the only rumor I know about you is that we slept together, which trust me, I didn't appreciate either. And as for acting as a child, all I did was ignore you after you went off with other women." So then he brings up that the engagement was a hoax. Not that he ever told me that on the ship. I say "Well, I didn't appreciate the hoax." He wants to cut off the conversation (he just writes bye, bye-actually first he wrote buy and then he spelled it correctly.) But then he wanted to go on and argue. I could have argued more, but I was like "Oh you run off with some other chicks. Then he expect me to just welcome you back. When I don't, you climb the first Nordic chick you find and have a faux engagement, which you maintain is real for the rest of the trip. And then you are pissed at me because I ignored you? Interesting." Well I will just have to get that motorcycle ride somewhere else.

But man I am pissed.

I would just it known for the record here that I could put up his AIM screenname or even his real name, but I haven't. Again Bunni excerizes restraint against those who desperately deserve to have their idiocy advertised.

Send rum cake to soothe my little bunni soul.

The Wierdest Day I Could Have Without Leaving the Apartment

Ok so yesterday I decided to stay home and do work. Just longue around. So I finally go to bed around like two am. I was not in a good mood. Then I am awakened at two thirty or so by the phone. It's the guy Ed. Now Ed and I went on maybe maybe a grand total of three dates last summer. It was just you know kind of hanging around. And then he vanished, which was fine with me because I didn't really want to see him again. But Ed, for reasons known only to him, continue to call at random intervals about once every two months. At first the calls were around midnight, but they have gotten progressively later. Now this doesn't bother me, because as anyone can tell by some of the times I post to this blog, I am generally up really late. Generally Ed wants to hang and what's amazing is that he hasn't noticed that every time he calls I say no. I always make some kind of excuse like I am tired or I am hanging with someone or something.

So he called me two weeks before I left (the night that Disney locked himself in the bathroom) and I was like "Um I have company." Now you would think this would signal to him that things between us are over. That and my utter and complete failure to ever see him. So he calls last night and he is so drunk I can brely understand what he is saying (OK I was half awake too, but he was clearly drunk). And he wants to know if he can come and crash with me. So I say "Well if I didn't have a boyfriend that might be ok." And suddenly the light goes on in Ed's alcohol enfeebled brain. "Oh my G-d, and he's probably there. I'm so sorry. It will never happen again." "Yeah, um, can you please stop calling me after midnight? I mean, I don't mind hearing from you, but just a little earlier, you know." And he says yes and of course and he is apologizing. I can tell that he is in that drunken self-pity close to crying stage. So I'm like "Well, ok get home safe." And I hang up.

Now you say, Bunni, one booty call in the middle of the night does not make a strange night.

No, you are right.

So at four the buzzer for my apartment goes off. Now the super changed the lock on the front door so I figure it is just some poor twit locked out and I am not getting out of my warm bed with my kitty. Sorry. People had been buzzing to get in all day and I was a good sport about it. (Because I am known to be a good sport people are always buzzing me when they get locked out, which doesn't REALLY bother me, with the exception of one family that started buzzing me everytime they needed to get in because it was easier than fishing out their key. Finally I told them that I was not a doorman and I didn't really have the time to get up and buzz them in every day four times a day.) But then my door bell rings. So I am half awake but also scared because who the hell could get into the apartment building to ring my bell. Well, I know a few people in the building so I thought maybe there was some kind of emergency. So I say who is it.

"It's John."

"John Yule?"

"Yes." Ok if you notice John Yule is one of The Guys Who Never Called 2003. We went out twice in March and then that was it. He vanished only to turn up on my doorstep at four inthe morning. So I was totally confused, but being me I was also curious. Besides he was already at my door. So I let him in.

He sits on the couch. I am like ok so what's going on? Anything wrong? And he says no, and then and then and then...His friend Russ is off in Spain getting married. The script they wrote that was being batted around Hollywood and looked good for a go has now stalled. And he is feeling low. And I guess I give off that "will be sympathetic to tremendous disappointment at the early hours of the morning" vibe. (Because I go through this all the time, but I have never turned up on anyone's doorstop at four in the morning. Maybe I need to start.)

So we sit there and chat for about an hour and half. Then he starts being allergic to my cat and leaves. He takes my email address before he goes. He doesn't know about the blog. He did ask for the address, but I told him he has to email me first and then I'll see how I feel about it. He told me that he might use my blog for material. (I was like Uh I'm already using it for material thanks.) And then he said he would feel honored if someone wanted to use him in a script (little does he know he already has had the honor-not only for being used here but of being a character in short story that I am working on).

So then I woke up today and I was like. What the hell happened? Why does everyone call all at once?

And Now a Word About My Cat

Now I know everyone thinks their cat is nuts, but mine has crossed over the boarder. Her name is Pleasance. Once I move this site to the domain that I bought I will post pictures of her, but for now she is white with yellow eyes. (A friend of mine insisted that she looked like Valcor, the luck dragon, in the Never Ending Story.) Now she wags her tail, plays fetch, and she actually taps me on the shoulder when she thinks i have been online for two long. I was used to all this.

The other thing is I haven't had a really good night of sleep since I got pleasance becuse Pleasance hasn't yet figured out that she can not curl up directly over my nose and mouth. No matter how many times I knock her off, she gets right back up and tries to sleep on my face. Two years and she still hasn't figured this out. When I got back from my trip, I woke up at three in the morning with her hind foot up my nose. Not pleasant at all.

I rarely call her by her name. Here is a partial list of the names my cat may be called at any given time: el gato blanco, pain in the ass, the pretty girl, pisspot, the prettiest cat in the world, the lady who lolls, the furry purry, hey you with the tail, and Miss P.

So yesterday I go into the bathroom and there is Pleasance curled up in the sink like it was a hot tub, like she is on Blind Date waiting for her bachelor to appear. What cat sleeps in a sink? And then I find out from the cat sitter she tried to jump in the shower with him! Well at least I know she has taste (although apparently no gaydar).

And you know what the sad part is? She is the only reason I came back to NYC. If it wasn't for her, I would have said "Fuck Manhattan" and I'd still be on a sandy beach somewhere enjoying the blue sky and the blue-er water. Instead I am in my apartment with insane but loving cat.

I Just Took My Head Out of the Toilet Long Enough to Say "Hello"
The above quote came from an answering machine message I received while I was still in college by the gay man who lived across the hall

"Game over, man, game over." Bill Paxton in Aliens (directed by James Cameron)

Why is that when your life is at a low point everyone else's seems to be "coming together"? What the hell is that?

Here I am fairly depressed about my vacation now (except for the last three days)-that's right I am a brooder. And what happens?

My friend Legs is engaged and sends me all these wedding dresses asking me for my opinion. (I have now been upgraded to a bride's maid. I'm honored to be the maid, but I would rather NOT attend wedding. Let me just open up that gaping chest wound where my heart used to be so you can pour salt all over it. Oh yeah baby. It STINGS.) My cousin who is 20 sent me her wedding invitation for August. (In fact, I should be at her wedding shower right now, but I said I was in meetings all weekend about the summer semester. Bad, bad bunni.) This girl who is the roommate of a friend of mine is telling me "I lost my boyfriend in November, but now I have a new guy, a new job and everything is just coming together." I am ready to swallow my own tongue.

I remember when my life was coming together-four years ago. Finally everything seemed to be coming together, I was getting everything I wanted, everything I worked for. And then I lost it, and it wasn't even my fault. That's what kills me, if it was something I did, something I could correct or work on, then I would be ok, but it was something beyond my control.

Oh and I know everyone is so envious of the job. Let me tell you people, the job is smoke and mirrors. The janitors at NYU get better pay and benefits than I do. They might even get more respect. Unfortunately for me this is the only thing I'm trained to do.

(Somehow I feel like getting a t-shirt that says "I have a grad. degree in English and all I got was this lousy blog.")

Speaking of which I have to write that essay today which considering my dismal mood, might either be a fabulous idea or horrifying-no way of knowing until I do it.

I shall now blog things in seperate sections so you can comment on each section seperately if you so desire.

    This page is powered by 
Blogger. Isn't yours?