I became insane with long intervals of horrible sanity.
Edgar Allen Poe

The trouble with fighting for human freedom is that one spends most of one's time defending scoundrels. For it is against scoundrels that oppressive laws are first aimed, and oppression must be stopped at the beginning if it is to be stopped at all.
- H. L. Mencken

Many people would sooner die than think; In fact, they do so
-Bertrand Russell

What I have been telling you, from alpha to omega, what is the one great thing the sigil taught me — that everything in life is miraculous. For the sigil taught me that it rests within the power of each of us to awaken at will from a dragging nightmare of life made up of unimportant tasks and tedious useless little habits, to see life as it really is, and to rejoice in its exquisite wonderfulness. If the sigil were proved to be the top of a tomato-can, it would not alter that big fact, nor my fixed faith. No Harrowby, the common names we call things by do not matter — except to show how very dull we are ...
-James Branch Cabell

January 02, 2012 - 12:01 p.m.

Party Like It's 2012

I'm still not getting enough sleep; last night it was the leg cramps again. That always makes it harder to start writing this. Once I get into the swing of things the adrenaline kicks in. That's why I forced myself to write this paragraph. I can feel the cobwebs breaking up as I write it.

I had a busy first day of the year, two parties and several hours of traveling. First up was Meg Braun's birthday party at Cowgirl in the West Village, not far from Christopher Street Coffeehouse. There were lots of comfort people there, Meg, Carolann, Mark, & Felix, Sharon, Joe, Aviv, and the people I'm going to kick myself for forgetting. Are there? I'm trying to picture the table in my mind but there were some I didn't get a clear view of from my seat. That's how my memory tends to work. I do best naming things off list, people, places, things, no matter what, geographically. Ask me to name the states and I'll start at Maine and work my way west. The people I knew are from Meg's musical life. The ones I don't know are from her running life. I actually remember the names of the people sitting near me that I talked to quite a bit; David and and and, oh come on I knew her name 5 seconds ago. Marcy! See I'm not a total idiot. I'm an idiot but not a total one.

I couldn't decide what to eat. They were serving brunch and even though I had breakfast I considered a second breakfast especially after Joe went for the eggs. But David got excited when I mentioned the chicken fried steak and the redundantly names chicken fried chicken. They were apparently the specialties of the house and I went for the chicken. Great choice on my part. I don't think I ever had chicken you could cut with a fork before. The mashed potatoes were the platonic ideal of creamy.

OK I got the food discussion out of the way. Well at least till I get to dinner.

It's easier to talk about the food than the people. What it comes down to is that I like my friends. I like the friends of my friends. I always find ways to enjoy talking to people and I write about that here. I talk to the people I run into during the course of the day and try to treat them as individuals and in return I get treated as one too. But this is different. With this crowd I didn't have to find things to talk about. If I sat and listened for half a minute there was always at least one conversation going on that interested me. The actual problem was choosing between multiple conversations I was interested in. That's what happens when you bring together intelligent, creative, and fun people. I had lots of things in common with the music people and lots of things to discover with the others.

I was invited to another party after this one, Coco and Bruce's in Brooklyn. That's a long schlep for me, especially by subway. I knew I was going to be tired and never responded with more than a definite maybe. Then I found that the Brooklyn contingent at Meg's party were all going and that tipped the scales. Now I'd have company for the subway trip over there and not have to worry about navigating. If I had been by myself I'm pretty sure I'd have fallen asleep on the train and had to sweep away the cobwebs again. As it was the subway ride was just a continuation of the party. I got a lesson in pronunciation of Brooklyn names and why Houston Street is pronounced how-stun.

We got to Coco's and Bruce's home and got as warm a greeting from Coco as is pretty much possible. Their home is amazing. I told them that I'm totally fine with the idea of them adopting me. Not only was it gorgeous and warm and cozy but it looked like a Christmas special. I'm pretty sure that Bing Crosby and David Bowie were there singing someplace, not to mention Andy Williams, John Denver and the Muppets.

This was not a crowd of comfort people. Other than the people I came with there weren't many people I knew. The only friend that was there when I arrived was Seth, who I found singing Jingle Bells as a special request to the kids. After getting food. I settled down in that room for a while and listened and sang along. And yes I did get food right after spending the afternoon eating. I'd be a rude guest if I didn't and it had nothing to do with the fact that there was delicious spiral sliced ham and peanut butter filed pretzels. Nope I'm just a good guest.

I was in one those situations I often find myself in, singing with people who can actually sing. For those of you who haven't heard me, let's just say that you are lucky. For the rest of you, I'm sorry. The thing is that I love to sing so I have to reach a compromise. I sing but just loudly enough to show enthusiasm without destroying the musical souls of those within hearing range.

I got to have one of my embarrassing, not knowing someone whom I really should know, moments. That was Carl, or is that Karl? I'll bet on Carl. I knew I knew him and he knew he knew me but we didn't know each other's names. Now that was fine. That's actually perfect. It stops me from feeling guilty and stupid. Then he went and ruined it by realizing that I also didn't know who he is, that is his place in my social world. He's Honor's husband. This worked out for the best as it lead to us having a great conversation and I got to really know him. Now I won't forget again. OK I might, I mean I am an idiot, but the lack of total idiocy makes it less likely.

After talking to Carl I went in search of Honor and found her in the parlor with the rest of the crowd I came with. That makes sense as I know her through them. Is there anything that can make you feel more traditional than sitting in the parlor talking to friends? I felt like something out of a 19th century novel. That's a good feeling.

I haven't gotten around to the topic I meant this to morph into, that will have to wait for another day as I have to eat then go out and get bagels. I better wrap this up.

I ended up staying pretty late then walked to the subway with Mark, Carolann, and Meg. Oh and of course Felix. I read the Sunday Times on the way home but when I took the magazine out to do the crossword fell soundly asleep, full REM sleep. I woke up when my pencil fell to the floor. I picked it up and went back to sleep. I knew I had been running on pure adrenaline all day and as soon as the stimulation was gone I collapsed. Today I'll take it easy. I'll get my bagels, stop at the store for eggs, and that's it. I'll get home, get back into my sweats, and relax.

Oh yes, today's breakfast, well it's noon now so brunch menu is a sausage and pepper jack cheese omelet. That sounds good. I better hurray and start cooking.

Oh I almost forgot the most important revelation of the day. As we were getting ready to leave I wasn't looking forward to the long trip home when I was so tired. I asked Seth to carry me home. He told me he loved me but not enough to carry me home. My entire world turned upside down. Here I was thinking that his first thought at all times was how to make my life better. I thought he'd be thrilled at the thought of being able to carry me home. That he'd consider it an honor, not an Honor. But no. That was too much. I'm not as important as I thought. I'm going to have to learn to live with this. I'll try and not cry too much.


I signed the Pro-Truth Pledge:
please hold me accountable.





Memories: Not that Horrid Song - May 29, 2018
Wise Madness is Now In Session - May 28, 2018
The NFL and the First Amendment - May 27, 2018
On The Road Again - May 26, 2018
Oliver the Three-Eyed Crow - May 25, 2018



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Horvendile January 02, 2012
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