Spring Cleaning, In Process

I never noticed how many baldheaded black men there are in New York until I started missing Mr. Wisdom.  There are baldheaded black men all over the dang place.  I'm glad he's been totally absent this week because I've been fragile and because if it's one thing I don't want, it's a boyfriend who has a wife.

I've been restraining my impulse to communicate because (1) I was fragile and (2) how can he miss me if I won't go away?  That's not to say I haven't sent a little note, but some things about me are irrepressible.

Now I'm getting ready to move again.
Sorting out the iTunes; making a new playlist

This one leads it off.  Note that these females can't really dance on account of their shoes, but like my old friend Maria, who used to be a dominatrix said, "You don't have to walk in those shoes."

I just like the beat and the breathing.

As part of the 2012 sorting process, since I accomplished much of the preliminary sorting before I moved into these temporary digs in 2011, I got a new cell phone number and haven't decided whether or not to give it to The Man from San Antone.  We exchanged texts on his birthday some weeks ago.  A movie he is listed as producing was opening that night downtown.  He was proud.  I wish I could have been proud, too, but   it was about Halston.  I wondered what he had been doing to support the 99%.  When I heard he'd been marginally involved in a movie that was the brainchild of that trust fund kid who calls me The Cunt From Hell, it sounded like he'd been perpetuating his commitment to a debauched lifestyle, so I haven't' given him my new phone number.

In my mind, I'm calling the new place Menopausal Stoners Outpost on Riverside.  It's smaller, but it's all the space Velvet and I require.  Time to jettison more stuff we don't really need but couldn't manage to deal with before leaving HQ on CPW - like the dining room table.  It's a combined living space with no room for a big table.  We have a nice little one, and we like to watch some variation on Star Trek while we're eating anyway.  At the Outpost, we'll have streaming Netfilx on the computer in the living room, and Velvet will have Xbox Live in his little man-cave.  We still have plenty of room for all our favorite things - like his tiki man collection.  It's just that going forward, we'll be traveling light.

I'll be hanging on to my habit of having a relationship with a man who won't talk to me for reasons of his own.  I've been doing it since college - with the exception of the time I was married.  Buzz Kill called 10 times a day.  In some ways, it was oppressive.  The Man from San Antone rarely responded to my texts or voicemails, but he did send cash with no strings attached.  I liked that about him.  Bradley and I were together for seven years when we were young - some of those years overlapped with the Man from San Antone.  Bradley and I saw each other quarterly.   We all know about that dang Narcissist who shamelessly fucked with me for two years with that ridiculous blogstalking form the library.  No way in Hell he's getting my phone number.

One thing I like about Mr. Wisdom is that The Man from San Antone, The Narcissist and Buzz Kill would all shit bricks if I had a boyfriend like Mr. Wisdom. That's not to say Mr. Wisdom should make the move to the Outpost - but if I have to manifest a boyfriend, I'm going to manifest one that makes those three shit bricks.  I like the idea that my future boyfriend is a creative writing teacher, too, because my future boyfriend will be supportive of my writing in practical ways.

This song is in the middle of the playlist:



I don't know what to make of the photo montage in this video, but I've been listening to this song since high school.

I'm happy to say that Velvet has been a big help to Buzz Kill during Vagina Dentata's recent illness.  Velvet may run over to Hawk Eye's whenever he can get away with it, but he lets me know in a timely manner where he is, if he'll be home for dinner or if he's staying out.  He remains mostly unemployed, although he has got a little job assisting a traveling soccer coach on Fridays with little kids at private schools.  I'm pretty sure he'll be spending the summer working up at the Hippy Dippy Quaker Camp in Vermont.  I couldn't be happier about it.  Organic farming and three day hikes will do him good.

I'm off for spring break until the end of March and have calendarized with Velvet so that I can show him how to find a school for himself here in the city.  He really is interested in going into education, and that means he has to go to school somehow.  As adept as Velvet is at plotting course for the day's journey on a trail with a compass and map, he sure can't figure out his way from point A to point B when it comes to setting tasks in a sequence to accomplish a goal when it's all about researching an idea on the computer.  We're starting this project in the morning.  The objective for this week is to determine how much money it will take to support Velvet through college and to draw up a document describing the distribution of this sum from the college fund Buzz Kill and I are required to set up from the condo money.  The divorce decree stipulates that I contribute 25% to this fund.  We've all agreed in principle to an amount but now it's time to write it up and get it notarized.

We're also going through all the old photos and making boxes for Velvet to keep as his own.
Meanwhile, my shoulder continues to improve.