Friday, November 26, 1999

Happy Thanksgiving

Happy Thanksgiving! Man, am I full. I have all these yummy leftovers, because I COOKED! I started cooking around 10 AM. The menu consisted of turkey (of course), garlic mashed potatoes, sweet baby carrots, herbed asparagus with parmesan, corn on the cob, green beans, stuffing... My parents and my friends, Matt and Alyson, came over around 3, and we ate and ate and ate. Dessert was deep dish apple pie, pumpkin pie and cinnamon-and-gingerbread ice cream. This has got to be one of my favorite holidays. :-)

I can't write much today, but I will soon. The holiday season is upon us!

Yours,
D.J.

Sunday, November 21, 1999

It's a beautiful, unseasonably warm day here in New York today.

I ran into my friend Marc at the gym this morning, and we walked home together -- and what a great day for a walk! I met Marc about two years ago -- on AOL of all places (and have had a crush on him ever since). ;-) He's adorable: about 5'7", black hair, bright blue eyes, and body from God. :-) And yes, I've seen all of it, on several occasions -- but more on that some other time.

This week, I ordered a DVD player online -- it was almost HALF OFF retail price! Check out shop.theglobe.com for some great deals.

On the social front, Henry and I did a Park Slope bar crawl of sorts, starting off at Carry Nation where our friend Lindsey is now working, then to Excelsior to visit Cheryl (also a bartender), and then to Great Lakes, where our cute buddy Ray was serving the drinks. We didn't intend to stay out till 3, but it was a lot of fun.

Thursday, I had a Scrabble party here at my apartment with my friends, Dan and Tony. We ordered pizza, and played some mean Scrabble, while a Brady Bunch marathon was on in the background on Nick at Nite.

On Friday, Derek, Heather, Dan, Henry and I hung out at Carry Nation, and yesterday I saw Sleepy Hollow, which was beautifully done and also quite gory -- classic Tim Burton. Check it out.

Okay, I'm off to visit my friend, John, at the store he co-owns, Root Stock. It's a fabulously designed space on 7th Ave. and 7th St. here in Park Slope, that specializes in exotic plants, garden design & landscaping, patio furniture and housewares. Go there -- it's a wonderful shop.

And then I'm going to attempt to do some Thanksgiving food shopping (I'm cooking this year!), and then I'm hosting a movie night! Have a great holiday!

Sunday, November 14, 1999

My boyfriend, the crackhead

"I took a leap of faith, and landed smack on my face."
—me
For those of you who've written in wondering what's been going on since I last updated this page (about 3,000 years ago) -- well, here's your answer. After living with my EX-boyfriend, Peter, for a few months, I am now single and the happiest I've been in a long time. My stereo may be missing, I may be down $1,000 or so, my trust in men may be shattered (albeit not permanently I'm sure)... but I'm free -- and this liberation is damn near intoxicating.

Rewind! As you might know, back in July, I moved in with my then-boyfriend, Peter. The next few weeks were spent nesting and getting the apartment the way we wanted it. After only a couple of weeks of marital bliss, he started going out "for cigarettes" and not coming back till many hours later. I found out later that he was spending the night at a crack den (!), somewhere near 14th St. and 3rd Ave. here in Brooklyn.

I knew he used drugs recreationally, but I had no idea he was an addict. That he couldn't help himself. That although he appeared sober, he was a slave to the drug -- unable to stop thinking about when he was getting his next hit. One night a week became two, then three. His lies became more and more transparent.

His paychecks got smaller, and he eventually started borrowing money from me -- ten bucks here, twenty bucks there. If I told him I didn't have any to give, he was storm off in a rage into the night. I learned later that he would leave work early (to smoke some crack), that money started disappearing from the hair salon where he worked.

The birthday gifts I got him, a portable CD player and a cell phone, quietly disappeared also. He was trading them in for crack cocaine.

Then one night, I had an epiphany, and realized that there were two Peters I was dealing with, and I didn't want to deal with either of them anymore. He had taken our cable descrambler while (he thought) I was sleeping, and left with it. That was it -- I had to leave. Fucking common sense finally kicked in and screamed, "GET OUT!"

My best friends (and some of the most beautiful, wonderful people I've ever met), Alyson, Henry and Matt, came over at 1 AM, and helped me move all of my valuable things out of the apartment. I couldn't fit my stereo into t he car, but it was old and replaceable. I just needed to get out, before he found me leaving. Who knew what he would've done while he was under that high? My personal safety could've been at stake -- he'd already hit me once, when he came home high at 5 in the morning and I was (needless to say) upset and angry.

I returned to the apartment 7 PM the next day, just to see it. (I knew he would be out getting high.) My stereo was gone, the apartment was trashed, and all the bikes in the basement were gone, including my $800 racing bike I purchased to ride the Boston to New York AIDS Ride.

Talk about betrayal and disgust. I called his boss, Maggie, and told her everything. She's a wonderful woman, whom I knew Peter saw more as a mentor and mother than a boss. She confronted him the next day. An intervention, so to speak. After forcing him to realize that he had lost me, the apartment (because of the burglary), perhaps his freedom (I called the cops and told them everything), she gave him the option to either check into a rehab clinic a friend of hers ran or to just get the hell out. She had broken him down, he was crying his eyes out, and he said yes.

He's there now at the clinic in the East Village, and I'm here. Relieved, but still a little shaken, wary, distrustful... but better overall. I reassure myself everyday by thinking that it could have been a lot worse. I am alive and well, I have a great job, and most importantly, amazing friends -- who are the key to my strength. Thank you, Alyson, Matt and Henry. I'm forever indebted to you, and I love you very much.

Let's not forget our favorite toast, which means a lot to me, on many levels. "Here's to our continued success."

Yours,
D.J.