I went to the literary speed dating event at Housing Works this week. It was a really good time, and unlike a year ago I restrained myself and did not nervously drink three glasses of wine on an empty stomach.
The dates themselves were all interesting, save the one person who went “I’m tired of talking about books” as I sat down. Uh, it’s literary speed dating, and part of the instructions was for everyone to bring a book to use as an icebreaker. There’s gonna be a lot of book talk.
I had been really happy with how things went. I got back my matches, however, and am in something of an awkward spot. I got back two people, both of whom I had chatted with before and after as well as during. But they know each other, and I assume they’ve shared their results lists. And I, being a man with no memory for names, cannot remember which of them was which.
How, precisely, does one comport themselves in this situation? I’ve asked a number of people this, and no one’s had a good answer. (One person thought I should jokingly suggest a threeway.) And, of course, every day that goes by it becomes less and less likely I’ll email either of them.
I ran into pomqueens, whom I had originally met at a tumblr meetup almost exactly a year ago, on the street today. To be perfectly accurate, she recognized me; I was in such a strange, unobservant headspace today that I nearly wandered into traffic. (I was contemplating the nagios setup at work and thinking about things I wanted to do when I got in to work Monday.)
She’s now dating someone she met at that same meetup, and they were on their way to Dylan’s Candy Bar for fudge. That sounds like an euphemism but I assure you it is not.
Winter is just about here, and so I’ve been growing out my beard, wearing more flannel, and been doing some cleaning up and throwing things out. Plenty of closet space now. I’d like to get a steamer trunk for it but they’re so expensive. Plastic bins just don’t have the same visual meaning, you know? A trunk implies (somewhat ironically since people used to travel with them) stability in my mind.
A number of friends I’ve met since coming to New York are leaving the city or considering it. They’re generally in different situations than me — actors or other film-related freelancers — so it makes more sense for them to consider leaving, but it’s still odd to contemplate from my position, as someone still enamored with the city and all its idiosyncrasies.
Instability. The company that my company shares space with, Arc90, just got bought up by a music promotion company to become their tech/product branch. The excitement and uncertainty on what everyone will be working on in the future, is infectious. But also sort of nebulously stressful, and that’s not exactly what I need right now.
I make myself anxious enough as it is.