Well, Mark's birthday dinner was pleasant. (I swear one of the types of oshinko was pickled sundried tomatoes -- they had that odd sweetness and texture, translated through brine. The wasabi tobiko, however, was unsuccessful at this restaurant: the tobiko were almost all crushed.)
And afterwards, I bought him ice cream, and scotch, and we listened to jazz; and eventually, Soren and I walked him to a car service, and sent him home. Mark continues to be a good friend, and a good person to have in my life.
Thus far, nothing from Peabrain. I think that, on some levels, I'm offended that he's too lazy to look up the information himself -- information which, were he the big Dean Friedman fan he claims to be, he'd have had on his computer (I'm still on Dean's email list, and I know Paul used to be) -- but not too lazy to call me and wait for me to get around to doing the research for him. Or, perhaps more annoyingly, to use me as the conduit... since, after all, I've stayed in touch with Dean over the years.
This is all very convoluted, and includes an awful lot of resentment for similar things he's done in the past. Wangling, or trying to wangle, invitations to parties, being put on the guest list for gigs, because he really really wants to go, but couldn't be bothered to stay in touch with people over the years.
But what's worst, I think, is that I told him I wanted nothing further to do with him, and had no intention of interacting with him save the occasional chance meeting. Part of me wants to call him up and curse him out, for not having the decency to get out of my life. But I think I may vent here -- and quite possibly vent more explicitly about the relationship later -- and remember what Soren and Mark said yesterday.
And afterwards, I bought him ice cream, and scotch, and we listened to jazz; and eventually, Soren and I walked him to a car service, and sent him home. Mark continues to be a good friend, and a good person to have in my life.
Thus far, nothing from Peabrain. I think that, on some levels, I'm offended that he's too lazy to look up the information himself -- information which, were he the big Dean Friedman fan he claims to be, he'd have had on his computer (I'm still on Dean's email list, and I know Paul used to be) -- but not too lazy to call me and wait for me to get around to doing the research for him. Or, perhaps more annoyingly, to use me as the conduit... since, after all, I've stayed in touch with Dean over the years.
This is all very convoluted, and includes an awful lot of resentment for similar things he's done in the past. Wangling, or trying to wangle, invitations to parties, being put on the guest list for gigs, because he really really wants to go, but couldn't be bothered to stay in touch with people over the years.
But what's worst, I think, is that I told him I wanted nothing further to do with him, and had no intention of interacting with him save the occasional chance meeting. Part of me wants to call him up and curse him out, for not having the decency to get out of my life. But I think I may vent here -- and quite possibly vent more explicitly about the relationship later -- and remember what Soren and Mark said yesterday.
Do Not Engage