"You're moving?"  Ben asks when we get back to his apartment.

I've been thinking about it since he got back from New York.  And the phone call I made at work was to Celeste.  Her roommate is moving to North Carolina on December first.  He's leaving behind his old computer, his bed, a few shelves, and most importantly, a room of my own.  No ( Read more... )

There is no rock, no hard place. I am between a buffet and a comfortable bed. Everything but my clothes is packed up and waiting by Ben's door. I spent Tuesday night sleeping on my new bed. Spent last night in the familiar position slightly to the right of Ben. I want these two worlds to converge. I want the ability to spend all night talking ( Read more... )

My inability to hold boring small talk with strangers is proof of nature over nurture. Friday night, my father, my stepmother, Ben and I managed to have a ten minute discussion on how cold it was. It was really fucken cold. That could have summed the whole discussion up.

To rectify the coldness, my father and his wife are headed to Cancun. My ( Read more... )

In an IM conversation with Dmitri, I mention that I am catsitting for Ben while he's away, and that I'm in the midst of reorganizing the apartment.  Dmitri says "You make such a good wife." Me? A wife? I have a beard, and it's not a woman with self-esteem issues, it's facial hair. Ben is the one who wears eyeliner.

And so it is that I spend ( Read more... )

Yes, I'm vanishing. Yes, life is more complicated than explaining calculus to someone who doesn't speak the same language as you. Yes, Asscat scratched the blood out of my hand last night. Yes, taking three hits of acid on your first time is an incredibly stupid idea.  Yes, I'm fine now, thanks for not asking. 
When Ben asked me to feed Rufus ( Read more... )

I am Contrast. Do gooder nice guy does what told.  Folds blankets for sleeping guests.  Buys presents for friends and loves and loves and would do anything for and is supremely talkative.  Give me a topic and yes, I'll listen too.  Tell me a story.  That's fabulous.  I love you but don't you piss me off.  I disappear.  Give me a new haircut ( Read more... )

I'm standing outside of The Anorexic, waiting for Ben, who is half an hour late, to show up.  On my way here, I ran into a poetry acquaintance who'd recorded one of my spoken word shows a few months before.  While most of the tracks are fairly mecentric, there's a couple of tracks I did with Ben, Celeste, and Wiz.  I am in the midst of ( Read more... )

I am the subject. Am is happy to be helping. In is the preposition I'm currently stuck with. Love is the real object. See? Ben, David, Dmitri, CSB, Ryan, it doesn't matter who, does it? Fuck who is the object of my desire, desire is the objective ( Read more... )

Before leaving for New York, Ben and I were eating breakfast at our favorite diner, when he said: "You always order the Eggs Benedict, and you manage to get like three quarters of the way through breakfast without cracking the yokes. That's damned impressive ( Read more... )

Ben is on the phone with his mother. Speaking all falling leaves and sunshine. He is planning on spending a weekend on a commune in upstate New York. He wants to get in touch with nature, and spend some quality time with Lisabelle. He does not tell her that he really wants to go because he found an acid connection, and he wants us to do acid ( Read more... )