Despite my lingering sense of loneliness and ennui, this was a pretty good weekend. Friday night I went to Barrage with MAK, Bob, and Bob's adorable friend from Atlanta, Andrew. We were joined by my friend, Stuff. A fun evening of drinking, hectoring Andrew into talking to a cute boy, and finding Bob's boyfriend's doppelganger. They say that we each have a twin out there somewhere, a thought that has always been particularly disturbing to me. I hate the idea of there being two of me, lumbering around, complaining about having no life. Quel sort horrible!!

Anyway, Bob and MAK went off to dinner, leading Stuff and me to go to Posh, hoping for a Famous Author Rob Byrnes sighting. Alas, Rob had started his evening a little early, so he was no longer at the bar. Alas and alack.

By the way, did you know that there are several people who resemble Famous Author Rob Byrnes that hang out at Posh? Or rather, there are several people who look enough like his book jacket photo for me to wander over and say "Um . . . are you Rob Byrnes?" only to have them look at me as if I'm some lunatic until I sheepishly walk back to where my friends are sitting.

Yep.

Luckily, it occurred to me to ask the bartender. He let me know that Rob had left the building.

I didn't even get a Ron Pallilo sighting.

After this crushing disappointment, Stuff, one of his friends whose name escapes me, and I went to this . . . um, interesting little bar called La Fleur. It was full of very, very friendly people. And by friendly people, I mean hustlers.

We didn't stay very long, none of us being the type that rent gentlemen (and I use the term loosely) for the evening.

After that, I had hoped to join Bob and MAK in their further debaucheries, but I was unable to reach them in whatever circle of hell they had reached by that point. Did Dante mention a circle of hell that involved underwear swapping? Probably. He was Italian, after all.

Saturday was unremarkable. I had planned on spending my day with Jonathan Rhys-Meyers, but due to my doorman not bothering to tell me that Mike'nDavid had dropped off my DVD of Gormenghast, I had to settle for a day with Father Ted. Not that it was really settling, since this is one grand series. Best of all, the DVD I rented (the third season) was full of episodes I'd never seen before. Brilliant stuff.

As for the rest of the day, I believe Father Jack said it best, "Feck! Arse! Drink!"

Faith, but the Irish are a lyrical people.

Well, my evening didn't actually involve fecking any arses, but the drink portion was nice. I generally don't like to drink alone, but sometimes, it just doesn't matter.

Sunday I got to spend a little quality time with David, and although we didn't write, we did get to catch up.

After that, Stuff and I went over to a teammate's birthday party at a bar in the East Village. Good time. Great turnout. One celeb sighting, Geoffrey Nauffts (who I recognized, but didn't remember his name), a character actor who is all over the place on TV. If you've seen any episodes of Law & Order in its various incarnations, you've probably seen him in an episode or two. He's a friend of the birthday boy.

I was feeling a little down at the party. I've been feeling disconnected from things recently, like I'm just an observer. Not exactly the kind of thing that leads to a party mood. I really need to snap the fuck out of this.

After the party, Stuff and I went to the Phoenix, had a couple of drinks, and played a little pool. Add that to the list of stuff I suck at; I was handily beaten by Stuff and by a couple of other guys we played. And oddly, it turns out the guys we played are friends of a guy who just joined the team. See, everything leads back to rugby.

They were fun guys, so the evening ended on an up note.

Now some miscellaneous bits from the weekend. I didn't do laundry (bad). I didn't clean the apartment (bad). I went to the market and bought all sorts of food so I don't have to buy any of my meals this week and can save money (good). My mom has guilted me into giving up my next couple of weekends to help her pack (bad). Stuff has kind of talked me into getting a tattoo with him in the near future (we'll see). I've convinced myself to go to practice on Tuesday (bad/good). I missed Faustus' musical (very bad, since I was looking forward to it and heard from others that it was really inspiring). I didn't go see Ralph Stanley (good because it saved me money, bad because I really wanted to see him).

So that's pretty much it. I guess I'll do a little work now.