jaysaint Getting it all down on paper…

So I’m in this weird position. Let’s put it this way: Party A has made it clear that no real association with me is desired. I’ve come to terms with that and am willing to oblige. We have very little in common anyway. It’s disappointing but not crushing. BUT –there’s a Party B to whom this is important, and Party B is very important to me.

And, yes, I’m being hugely vague. It’s a weird tightrope to walk when you know people who read your journal, and they know all your friends.

So Party B keeps encouraging me to try harder, which makes me angry because Party A keeps rebuffing me. But it still seems to get pinned on me when we don’t get along.

So… that’s what I’m feeling sort of crabby about today, as I was just treated as if I was literally invisible.

Here I am sitting on my couch, surrounded by boxes. And what have I done since I got home from work yesterday??? I watched Starsky and Hutch TWICE on DVD — second time was the director commentary. Then I read, then I sat looking out the window, then went to sleep.

This morning I have spent hours reading ‘The New Our Bodies Ourselves’ (updated for the ’90s!). I had ice cream for breakfast, into which I dumped peanuts, M&M’s and peanut butter chips from Damon’s trail mix. I picked out the raisins. Now I’ve got dirty breakfast bowls and boxes.

Did I mention that Damon’s coming for a visit tomorrow? That my neighbor is coming over today to bring my new rug that his Mom accepted from the delivery guy when I wasn’t here? And I’m just hanging out in my pajamas, acting like I don’t have a thing in the world to do.

But I’m not worried about it. And I don’t believe in making myself worry about something that isn’t forcing itself on me.

And now I’m sort of hyper from the ice cream sugar rush. So I will probably get up and dance around my apartment – Sly and the Family Stone just popped up on the randomizer. Boxes will wait.

So I have a friend who refuses to ask a man to do something like take the lid off a jar for her. She doens’t want to imply/accept the idea that a man can do something she can’t do. So she’ll fight with a jar all day rather than ask for help. And I understand why. But me, most of the time I try for about five seconds and then hand the jar to Damon. I like to believe (and I really do think it’s true) that my take on stuff like that is that I’m well aware that if there were no help for me I would find a way to do it myself. So since I know I *can* do it, I don’t need to prove it. I will not drag a chair to a cabinet when I can just ask Damon to grab something from a high shelf.

I’m thinking about this because I’ve had a window wide open for about four days that I just didn’t have the height/muscle combo to get closed. And I had a bug in a glass that I couldn’t deal with. So I put the glass on the fire escape. I know that that qualifies as a mental rather than physical problem, but there it is.
I was so relieved that my friend John was coming over last night because I knew he’d take care of business for me. And he did. And then he hooked up my DVD player as a bonus.

So maybe I’m a big stereotype. And it gets worse. I like it. I like when a man conquers bugs and fixes electronics for me. And I like to cook for him in return. Could it get any more cliched?

But I like it. Maybe it doesn’t bother me because so much of my behavoir is stereotypically male, so I feel balanced out. I’m more aggressive than many of my male friends. Rationalization? Maybe.

Anyway, I’m in my new apartment and it’s perfect and I love it. I was unpacking very tidily, but that all went to hell last night and now the place is an explosion of boxes and wrapping paper. When John made the DVD offer I went plowing through all the boxes trying to find the wires. Then he and I ran through all the paper, which made it worth it.

Other good things from today: I joined Netflix and it’s all I can do to not play with the site pretty much all day. My first three movies arrived yesterday: Monsters, Inc., The Bourne Identity and Cool Hand Luke. I’ve seen the latter, but it’s been a really long time and I loved it.
Also, I’m making panzanella tonight.

The depth and variety of characters I’ve run across in the two days I’ve been here blows away weeks of interesting folks in other cities.

Our locksmith is here right now. He’s got a pretty good New York accent going on, he’s about 60. Big bald guy. Within two minutes he was telling us a story about a job he did a little while ago. He was changing locks for some guy when the guy’s boyfriend came home. So the boyfriend called the cops, since he lived there too. So with the locksmith standing there the guys keep arguing. When the cops arrive, the boyfriend says, “He picked me up in a bar six months ago and I never left! And now I won’t let him fuck me no more, so he’s trying to lock me out. But if he thinks he’s coming home drunk and late and is going to fuck me, he’s wrong.” So the cops tells the locksmith, “Give me two keys.” He does and the cop hands each guy a key and says, “Work it out” and walks away. And the locksmith made his $175 and the guys were where they started. He said he changed the lock on the apartment three more times that week while the guys fought and tried to lock each other out.

He told the story so well, I wish you could have been there in person. Big voice, big laugh.

And the practical lesson is that once you’ve lived somewhere for more than 30 days you have a right to presence on the property in New York.

I guess I don’t seem like a New Yorker yet. The locksmith just left and as he was walking out the door I called out, “It was good to meet you” with a big smile. And he turned around and looked at me like “You’re kidding” and then he laughed and laughed. I like him. I want to make friends with him.

When we closed on the apartment the seller’s lawyer was another one. A lot of “I mean, I’m not going to bust your balls over X” to my lawyer. Who, it should be noted, was a woman on the dainty side. Don’t be fooled, though. She was clearly the most detailed, smart lawyer in the room. And she was certainly tough. I felt well protected.

The best, though, I saved for last.

We’re still at the closing. It’s me and Damon, our lawyer Alexia, the apartment board president Patrick, the apartment lawyer (Who is Asian, which becomes relevant in just a minute) and the seller’s lawyer. So the seller’s lawyer — Annette — the one who left with our check stuck in her bra — notices that there are Skittles wrappers in the garbage can. We’re in the apartment lawyer’s offices. So she says, “Did you guys have candy here earlier and eat it all already?” And he says “Yeah” and she says “Well that was white of you”

She says, “Well that was white of you”

The last time I heard that Cary Grant was saying it in “Bringing Up Baby.”

So the ASIAN lawyer says, “I had some too” and which point Damon, Patrick and I fall out of our chairs laughing. And Annette is going, “What? What? What are you guys laughing at?”

It was fantastic.

We spent the night in our new aparment for the first time. That was after a two-hour closing that went, according to my lawyer, as smoothly as could be wished. I did what I was told, which I think helped. I had done enough reading ahead of time, so I wasn’t surprised by anything. There are lots of fees and they nick you for $500 here and $500 there. But that’s the way that goes, and you just suck it up if you want to buy.

So here we are with lots of work to do, and lots more money needing to be spent. I’m hoping we can get the living room painted this weekend. A nice green, I think.

Damon is out exploring the neighborhood and I’m holed up inside enjoying a brief bit of alone time. Everything has been positive, but I still have to have that time to myself. I get very surly when I don’t. Maybe I should rethink my desire to have kids.

But soon I’ll join Damon. And soon after that we’ll join my cousins, who are in for the weekend. Thank God they’re not staying with us. I love them, and hope they do next time. But right now finding a cup or a bar of soap is a production, so I’m glad we’re not looking after guests.