The forecast for tomorrow is 52 and sunny. For Sunday, the temperature will exceed 60 with partly sunny skies.
While I just took off my pathetic excuse of a genoa (front sail) for the winter, tomorrow I'm putting it back on. It appears we are taking this sled out for a sail on Sunday. With two of my neighbors (An S2 and an Oceanis) already shit-talking over e-mail, it looks like we might even get a race off!
Christmas sailboat racing anyone? Ho ho ho!
Friday, December 15, 2006
Monday, December 11, 2006
Edgar Does Hobart
A Big Congratulations to a dear friend and hometown skipper Edgar Smith who flew out today to take part in the 2007 Sydney to Hobart Race aboard a Volvo 60! Go get em!
"bad times" friends
I've been thinking a lot about my friends lately. There are few people who I can say are truly "close" friends. Those people have been in my life several years, and sadly I don't see them enough living in New York. Everyone else is periphery, somewhat, and that is okay. My close friends are those who are supportive, sharing and fun people who I can rely on in good and bad. They are the people who I would do anything for and I know the same is true in reverse. Weirdly, these friends have rotated a bit since I came out (I had a wild couple first years trying to figure myself out make up for lost time). However, they are pretty much intact.
Recently, an otherwise totally nice guy I once dated, who I consider a friend, spoke a whole bunch of shit about how "amazingly good friends" we are and held him self out as capable and wanting to be such. It was flattering that he did, but should have known it was only half true. At the time, back in October, his boyfriend had dumped him, he left one marine industry job for a better broker job that was starting slowly, his bills weren't being paid, etc. He was going through a lot. He called me everyday for my support. I happily gave it and was his "main ear" to get him through. I would drive out to his house in CT just because he couldn't be alone and sip wine with him. Honestly, it made me feel really good to be there.
However, when he would start in on "more than friends," I knew there were limitations on our friendship. Indeed, I had loved our relationship a couple years back. We sailed, played, dinned well, fucked like crazy, etc.. However, I had worked hard to successfully put it in the past. After all, he had previously repeatedly loaded me up with gushing bs when he was feeling down and backed off as soon as I reciprocated. His ramblings on us being together were only because he was low and he knew I was then taking a big chance in my life on someone else. I knew better.
Last month, the tables were reversed and I needed a friend to get me back on my program. So, what happened? Predicably, despite all his representations, he came up short. Figures. He got jealous and possessive, then resigned, then detached when it became about my need for a little support (I didn't need nearly as much as him - I'm pretty fiercely independant). Of course, It ended up with our relationship revolving agains around him. He became obsessed with gloating on the phone to me constantly about the current triumphs of his life and his new trophy boy. In the end, it was another person who took and himself was unable to nurture.
The experience was a lesson learned in the midst of some major other lessons being learned at the time. However, it lent itself to some pretty intense growth. I think, in the end, it taught me that those who make the best friends are a similar balance of giver and takers as you. I think it taught me that while I'm sometimes more of a giver than a taker with some people, sometimes I just need something in return.
Recently, an otherwise totally nice guy I once dated, who I consider a friend, spoke a whole bunch of shit about how "amazingly good friends" we are and held him self out as capable and wanting to be such. It was flattering that he did, but should have known it was only half true. At the time, back in October, his boyfriend had dumped him, he left one marine industry job for a better broker job that was starting slowly, his bills weren't being paid, etc. He was going through a lot. He called me everyday for my support. I happily gave it and was his "main ear" to get him through. I would drive out to his house in CT just because he couldn't be alone and sip wine with him. Honestly, it made me feel really good to be there.
However, when he would start in on "more than friends," I knew there were limitations on our friendship. Indeed, I had loved our relationship a couple years back. We sailed, played, dinned well, fucked like crazy, etc.. However, I had worked hard to successfully put it in the past. After all, he had previously repeatedly loaded me up with gushing bs when he was feeling down and backed off as soon as I reciprocated. His ramblings on us being together were only because he was low and he knew I was then taking a big chance in my life on someone else. I knew better.
Last month, the tables were reversed and I needed a friend to get me back on my program. So, what happened? Predicably, despite all his representations, he came up short. Figures. He got jealous and possessive, then resigned, then detached when it became about my need for a little support (I didn't need nearly as much as him - I'm pretty fiercely independant). Of course, It ended up with our relationship revolving agains around him. He became obsessed with gloating on the phone to me constantly about the current triumphs of his life and his new trophy boy. In the end, it was another person who took and himself was unable to nurture.
The experience was a lesson learned in the midst of some major other lessons being learned at the time. However, it lent itself to some pretty intense growth. I think, in the end, it taught me that those who make the best friends are a similar balance of giver and takers as you. I think it taught me that while I'm sometimes more of a giver than a taker with some people, sometimes I just need something in return.
Wow, now there's a thought.... Can I take it next year?
Just when you are pondering something new, things start to happen. I'm not unsatisfied in my job. In fact, I like my job very much. Yet, I'm always considering possibilities that come along. I rarely let myself get tied down to anything unless I absolutely love it.
After contemplating a potential move a couple months back and debating another recent opportunity, I've been more open recently to potential change. Today, presented with another intreaguing possibility, a job in San Francisco, I almost lept from my skin.
Monday morning, 9am, I get a call from my last employer for who I worked in Soho. I found it odd that they'd call me first thing on Monday until I hear, "Okay, so, we have something we think might be perfect for you." I continue to listen about the maritime job, scheduled to last 2-years, that involves shipping contracts and arbitration. Exciting!
"Wow, this sounds to good to be true," I think. "Hmm, maybe I'll make a switch afterall."
Then comes the wild part.
"Well, we know you're open to relocate as long as it is to a city on the water."
"Yes," I say apprehensivly thinking the job is probably in Portland, Maine.
"Can you go to San Francisco?"
I'm silent. I look around me at Pearl knowing I'm not ready for the trip. I don't know what to say. In some ways, this is a long standing dream. In other ways I know I wont go unless it is with my boat. Shit. She isn't ready.
I agree to meet with them mid-week and hear what it is. Part of me knows I cannot leave for another two-years. Part of me is very comfortable with the great friends and life I have here. Part of me wants to wander. Part of me . . . what part prevails?
After contemplating a potential move a couple months back and debating another recent opportunity, I've been more open recently to potential change. Today, presented with another intreaguing possibility, a job in San Francisco, I almost lept from my skin.
Monday morning, 9am, I get a call from my last employer for who I worked in Soho. I found it odd that they'd call me first thing on Monday until I hear, "Okay, so, we have something we think might be perfect for you." I continue to listen about the maritime job, scheduled to last 2-years, that involves shipping contracts and arbitration. Exciting!
"Wow, this sounds to good to be true," I think. "Hmm, maybe I'll make a switch afterall."
Then comes the wild part.
"Well, we know you're open to relocate as long as it is to a city on the water."
"Yes," I say apprehensivly thinking the job is probably in Portland, Maine.
"Can you go to San Francisco?"
I'm silent. I look around me at Pearl knowing I'm not ready for the trip. I don't know what to say. In some ways, this is a long standing dream. In other ways I know I wont go unless it is with my boat. Shit. She isn't ready.
I agree to meet with them mid-week and hear what it is. Part of me knows I cannot leave for another two-years. Part of me is very comfortable with the great friends and life I have here. Part of me wants to wander. Part of me . . . what part prevails?
Holly Jolly X-mas, Juilliana Marguliese and the Lower East Side
The Christmas season is afoot in New York City. As usual, denim and fleece wrapped tourists are flocking to see the Rockefeller Christmas Tree, the new fun elevator and observation deck in Rockefeller Center and the UNICEF Baccarat Large Snowflake Crystal hanging by Tiffany's (I’ll have my own pictures next weekend after doing my annual midtown Christmas thing with a visitor next weekend). The rest of us are hitting holiday parties and enjoying the new dancetastic holiday installation in Union Square (really, New Yorkers are going to dance there at night) in our best leathers.
In light of my recent commitment to eating at more new restaurants, I’ve been dining with friends all over town during these days of fantastic holiday festivities. Among the best, Flora and I had lunch at Zen Palate. While this veggie natural restaurant is considered a cheap New York Staple to many, I had never been. The sweet and sour tofu special with dumplings and rice was delish! Flora’s veggie burger made me want to quit beef (who is anyone kidding that I’m ever going to lay off meat). However, hands down, the best new meal I’ve had all year has been at Café Gitane. After a swank packed holiday party at the seemingly not-so-usually swank Jolly Madison hotel with Flora last Thursday (where yours truly met the most interesting new boy) and a cool gallery opening at Apt featuring some great home lighting based art, I headed over to Café Gitane for a late dinner. I had the baked pasta with roasted tomato, Gorgonzola, bread crumbs and prosciuto, which turned out to be one of finest comfy winter treat on a cold night I ever ate. Eaten with a few forkfuls of my din-din-mate’s Hachi Parmentier (ground beef with mashed potatoes and salad), the pasta is truly to die for.
Beyond holiday parties, tree decorating and New York nights that lead to New York mornings, I’ve been driving the ol’ sports car to the land of more low key fun, New Haven, to hit other festivities and hang out with a friend. Friday night was one of those New Haven nights. Prior to a homo v. straight night of very bad, disco-ball lit, fun bowling at Hamden Lanes, our fairly large crew hit Firehouse 12 in the newest restaurant filled arts district in NH, the Ninth Square. This once abandoned renovated firehouse is now outfitted for any emergency with a trendy bar in the basement and a band hall and recording studio upstairs. Indeed, tres chic!
For me, the party attitude of holiday season isn’t officially started until you have that one night when you head home and the sun is up. It is just that little bit of debauchery before the wholesome caroling. Saturday night was just that night. After bailing on a two-hour wait for the uber-right-now-spot Schiller’s, we decided to head to Le Pere Pinard, which only had an hour wait. Since dinner was at midnight, I must admit that I was too many glasses of wine into the evening to report on the food. The steak seemed okay, but not nearly as good as Pastis. The story of the evening, though, wasn’t the food. Indeed, the convo every so often swung over to the hot Latin man from the bar who ended up making out with Juilliana Marguliese at the next table. Did they come together? Were they boyfriend and girlfriend? I dunno. However, he was dreamy at the bar. I was a more than a bit surprised to look over and see him there attached to her. The scandal only started at that point.
The holiday season is far from over and I anticipate there will be much more to report. Upcoming festivities include a couple swank parties at Central Park West penthouses, paint ball on 130 acres in the country and a trip to Lake Placid for some snowboarding. This week, however, I plan to rest up Monday - Wednesday with a few bottles of wine, my boat and my marina gayboy neighbors. Ho ho ho!
In light of my recent commitment to eating at more new restaurants, I’ve been dining with friends all over town during these days of fantastic holiday festivities. Among the best, Flora and I had lunch at Zen Palate. While this veggie natural restaurant is considered a cheap New York Staple to many, I had never been. The sweet and sour tofu special with dumplings and rice was delish! Flora’s veggie burger made me want to quit beef (who is anyone kidding that I’m ever going to lay off meat). However, hands down, the best new meal I’ve had all year has been at Café Gitane. After a swank packed holiday party at the seemingly not-so-usually swank Jolly Madison hotel with Flora last Thursday (where yours truly met the most interesting new boy) and a cool gallery opening at Apt featuring some great home lighting based art, I headed over to Café Gitane for a late dinner. I had the baked pasta with roasted tomato, Gorgonzola, bread crumbs and prosciuto, which turned out to be one of finest comfy winter treat on a cold night I ever ate. Eaten with a few forkfuls of my din-din-mate’s Hachi Parmentier (ground beef with mashed potatoes and salad), the pasta is truly to die for.
Beyond holiday parties, tree decorating and New York nights that lead to New York mornings, I’ve been driving the ol’ sports car to the land of more low key fun, New Haven, to hit other festivities and hang out with a friend. Friday night was one of those New Haven nights. Prior to a homo v. straight night of very bad, disco-ball lit, fun bowling at Hamden Lanes, our fairly large crew hit Firehouse 12 in the newest restaurant filled arts district in NH, the Ninth Square. This once abandoned renovated firehouse is now outfitted for any emergency with a trendy bar in the basement and a band hall and recording studio upstairs. Indeed, tres chic!
For me, the party attitude of holiday season isn’t officially started until you have that one night when you head home and the sun is up. It is just that little bit of debauchery before the wholesome caroling. Saturday night was just that night. After bailing on a two-hour wait for the uber-right-now-spot Schiller’s, we decided to head to Le Pere Pinard, which only had an hour wait. Since dinner was at midnight, I must admit that I was too many glasses of wine into the evening to report on the food. The steak seemed okay, but not nearly as good as Pastis. The story of the evening, though, wasn’t the food. Indeed, the convo every so often swung over to the hot Latin man from the bar who ended up making out with Juilliana Marguliese at the next table. Did they come together? Were they boyfriend and girlfriend? I dunno. However, he was dreamy at the bar. I was a more than a bit surprised to look over and see him there attached to her. The scandal only started at that point.
The holiday season is far from over and I anticipate there will be much more to report. Upcoming festivities include a couple swank parties at Central Park West penthouses, paint ball on 130 acres in the country and a trip to Lake Placid for some snowboarding. This week, however, I plan to rest up Monday - Wednesday with a few bottles of wine, my boat and my marina gayboy neighbors. Ho ho ho!
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