So it has been a while, and indeed I have done plenty to now recount.

Last night I spent with Lex and Hanna and Alex, old friends from school, Lex my old roommate for two years, and though the entertainment (Bad Boys II) was long and drawn-out (with needless state-sponsored terrorism against our Communist neighbor to the south), to say nothing of more of that all-too-familar brand of homophobic double-entendre, the company was as always well-met, long overdue. And so it seems that Lex and Hanna are to settle down together, in what feels like a happy move, somehow, Hanna at last working with the little kids she so covets. And this is a relief, they together perhaps again moving toward the status of Hope for Heterosexuality. It’s also nice, somehow seeing, however overdue, old friends by which I can measure myself, my progress, my core.

Ah, yes: also a nice jaunt to Alric’s, whose UWS apartment is actually rather nice, I must say. Though in characteristic fashion he has failed to realize that a package labelled “drape” contains but one. So his red-bedecked lightless shaft-pointing window is somehow less than halfway decent. Sex and the City, red wine, a sprinkling of girls, and fagulous commentary is well on the way.

This morning rolled out of bed to see Kenneth in Union Square, to dish about his little field trip to New Jersey to meet a man (a token of) his type. I tried to be all big-brotherly, which is kind of strange when your victim is a year older and used to be a drill sergeant. Still, right about now, I hope Kenneth is snoozing on his host’s couch, or at least fully clothed still. I suppose at some point I can ask him What’s the Frequency, Kenneth? and not quite be talking about EM-radiation. Who would have thought an NYUer could turn out so right?

Alric again this afternoon, unexpectedly at my computer by the time I returned, late, having malingered with Kenneth to make sure he wouldn’t brush his teeth beforehand… And this was pleasant, though it was perhaps strange when my roommate Errol had a friend visit, replete with servings of mung bean soup, a strange vibe, and Chinese music playing rather loudly. Very ethnic. But perhaps he’s beat old Alric in “breaking in” his old room. And this after only a few weeks. However: De gustibus…

Then off with Dannis (who frantically greeted me and almost knocked me over galloping from the shower, as I stood in the foyer, wondering why I’m not gay enough have a presentable apartment) all the way to Joephet’s fam’s place out in Little Neck. I am beginning to suspect that Columbia faggery would have been more bearable than the type that I avoided so scrupulously back in the day. But maybe I’m just overgeneralizing from one case. That’s how stereotypes are born, y’know. Whoever thought that bickering about haircare could be so amusing? A pleasant if misdirected ride, necessitating a full canter at a bus that was not where we had quite expected it. I can still hoof it in dress shoes…. Upon arriving, I felt as if I had walked onto the set of Better Luck Tomorrow, though in this case there was race/nationality solidarity in this house of karaoke-singing Filipinos. I cannot begin to describe that cooing scene now, and do regret that I didn’t take a whirl–I was too busy controlling myself in J’s presence, able only to furtively conference with him when about to leave. Thanks to Dannis’ tactical obfuscations, I made it back to the subway and then home safely, and before too long, though not before a little scary jaunt through downtown LIC. So it goes. Family, though, is family. And as insistent as they may be that you eat yet more succulent pig, I can’t help but smile at the thought. Ripe pickings. So though I’m alone again now, it’s but temporary: and not a bad space at that.

Strange dreams that I can only vaguely remember: something about Josh Hartnett floating naked in an indoor swimming pool, and me without a remote control. The attic people who seek to get married, but when they go to the shore to contemplate the future together, find that with the receding tide there are park benches of tormented souls who are periodically jolted by a monkey from the Planet of the Apes in pretty multicolored bolts of monkey-electricity. I need to get a dental checkup, too.

I may be getting mired in ethnic literatures, meanwhile. Which again, would help, as I feel more and more the plight of the HAPI (heterosexual Asian/Pacific-Islander, which is a delightful acronym, as surely they are anything but). Something ought to be done about that, and I would be interested to see what the latest takes in fiction might be…

And now the rain is falling, which means that for the first time in memory it is actually not Beer Garden weather, which is tragic, but OK, as most of the neighborly crew are elsewhere. I think a Mandy Moore expedition with Lex is quite overdue, to learn How to Deal. Not feeling lackluster in general, but not been in a blogging mood. Maybe because my contentment of late is rather private…