So, I decided to go down to the bus terminal since they have restrooms and I wanted to go ahead and purchase my bus ticket back to Jersey. I'm down to my last $30 and I wanted to make sure I had that if nothing else.
I also called Zia, the young lady who I am meeting tonight at the Northern State show. She's running later than she anticipated and won't make it into the city probably until about 8 then has an errand to run before she goes to Brooklyn, so, we'll just meet there. She sounds really cool and I look forward to meeting her. I was wondering, since she's coming from Jersey as well how she was gonna go bar hopping all night. Turns out she's crashing with a friend in the city. I thought she might know a way out of the city that I don't. Not that it would matter, I probably won't have money for cab fare once I'm in Jersey anyway, so I'm pretty much stuck taking the bus back to my truck anyway.
When I came out of the bus terminal the police had cordoned off 42nd St at the corner of 8th Ave. and not letting anyone walk up into Times Square that way. They were telling everyone that they needed to walk down to 52nd St if they wanted to "see the ball".
Fuck that. I walked down to 41st street and cut up that way then through the Hilton hotel entrance and out the other side onto 42nd St. No one keeps me from my internet! Heh, but anyway, I have more time to kill so I thought I'd come back in here for a few minutes before heading to Brooklyn.
I know no one is reading any of this stuff, but if nothing else, I want to document my NYE in NYC. This, afterall, is the original intent of me keeping a journal when I started driving anyway.
Oh yeah, I totally gorged myself in Little Italy this afternoon. I decided to try a new restaurant, Benito's II... right across the street from Benito's I, on Mulberry St. They have the best tomato sauce I've tasted yet. Their steamed mussels with tomato sauce rivals, if not beats Il Fornaio, my usual haunt. I may have found me a new favorite restaurant. The amusing thing about this was that while I was dining, there were these two young ladies sitting a couple of tables away from me. Both were very attractive and one in particular was downright H-A-W-T hot. Just a few minutes ago while walking through the bus terminal, they passed me on the concourse. An amazing conincidence in a place this big and this populated.
I'll be leaving here in a while and the cafe closes at 11pm, so I won't be making any further entries tonight, but I plan to make a phone post or two as the night progresses. I imagine they will be somewhat lucid since I don't really have enough money to get too trashed... I spent it all on food.
And, I'm getting fat! Before I continue, let me preface this by saying that I'm not whining or complaining. I in fact am not obese. On the contrary, I have been blessed with a small frame and a good metabolism my whole life. I pretty much eat what I want, don't exercise enough (at all), and stay rather thin. With that in mind... I'm getting fat! Most of my adult life I weighed somewhere in the neighborhood of 115-125 lbs. As I approached my late twenties I began to put on the obligatory paunch of a man in his young thirties and creeped up to 155 by the time I got divorced. Within 3 months of my seperation from ym ex, I promptly dropped 30 pounds, dropping back to my usual 125lbs. Probably a result of the stress and accompanying loss of appetite during that period. I had noticed some increase in tummy girth as of late and decided to step on the scales when I was at my parents this past weekend. I'm a robust 145lbs.
So now I have bad teeth, horrible skin, thinning hair, getting thick around the middle, and have a vocation usually associated with rednecks and good ol' boys. Ladies? Where are ya? Heh. I wonder if my bad teeth and pot belly is a self-fulfilling prophecy for my choice of employment.
But, here're my thoughts on it. As I commented in a friend's journal ealier this week, I swore years ago that I would not fight balding if it happened to me. So, nothing I can do about that, don't want to do anything about it. The skin, I can't do anything abotu either. I get it from my mom: oily, pore-clogging gunk. Thick around the middle? I ain't dieting and I'm too lazy to exercise.
The teeth I actually plan to fix someday. I mean, I can't keep getting fat if I can't eat, right? I have dental insurance but I'm concentrating on getting myself debt free before I go spending hundreds/thousands repairing my mouth. In fact, it's to the point that I don't think it's reparable. I never had my wisdom teeth removed and they're all broken and the molars next to them broke as well. I have teeth in the front which have massive cavities in them and are slowly rotting away. I'm just hoping I can hold on to them long enough until I'm ready to do soemthing, then I plan to just have them all yanked and get dentures. I dunno, the bottom teeth might be salvageable, but I think the top teeth are a lost cause. When I was married I went to the dentist and began exploring what needed to be done to fix my mouth and at the time I was looking at 5-6 extractions, 3-4 root canals and crown work - and that was almost 5 years ago. Then I got divorced and put it off because of the financial situation.
A pathological fear of dentists coupled with a less than stellar regimine of oral hygiene put me here. I have no one to blame but myself. And It's not that I'm really lamenting any of this. I've already had my moment. I mated and have three beautiful spawn and won't be having anymore (snip, snip). And I know enough about myself to know that I'm too low maintenance to ever really care about my appearance to the point that I'm primping my hair and dousing myself with cologne, etc etc. In fact that's one thing about my job I love. I don't have to show up for work wearing anything other than what I happen to be wearing and it doesn't matter if I shaved that morning (or week)... or even if I have bathed that week, so long as I'm not so funky that it wilts flowers and peels wallpaper.
You know how often I comb my hair? Everytime I get out of the shower... that's it. How often do I take a shower? Maybe 2-3 times a week, more in the summer when there's sweating involved. Ditto the shaving, but that's not always set in stone either. Sometimes I'll go a week without shaving. Until the itching gets so bad I can't stand it anymore.
I've always been low maintenance, the only difference is now I'm in a position where I can get away with more. Working in the straight-world of the professional, I had an image to perpetuate. May I never have to go back to that again.
I know people who hate their jobs. Who go to work in some cubicle or office or factory to have their souls sucked daily from their bodies. I read it in journals, I see it in the faces of strangers on the street and I don't know how they do it. Maybe some people are compensated enough that they benefits they enjoy in their free-time makes it all worthwhile, but I see so many people slaving away in 50-60+ hour a week jobs. People ask me if I miss being home with my sort of work. Compared to what? The 50+ hours week I spent in the workplace when I was managing restaurants? The way you bring work home with you? The way, even on your days off you deal with phone calls from your underlings who can't make it through a day without your presence?
All told, in terms of quality time I spend with family and friends now compared to then, it's probably not much different. In fact it's probably better because I'm not all cranky and mind-numbed. I certainly have more time to myself in general, even if I'm not "home" to utilize it. And what did I do at home with my spare time? Play games, listen to music, goof off on the internet. Wow, big difference.
So I just went on and on about nothing really. I don't know where that all came from. Now it's 8 o'clocl so I'm gonna mill around Times Square a little bit then catch a train for Brooklyn.
Again, to everyone, have a happy new year.