The day went by in a blur. I got a good amount of work done in the morning, and then...? Put some more gifts together, packed them up, answered some emails, ran a few other errands...then it was dinner downtown with a friend, and here I am back in my apartment, blogging...

Last year around this time I was looking for a gift to give to my erstwhile favorite dancer, Lily. That was nice. It was nice to have money to spend on her, and to be friends with her, or what passes for friends in stripclubs. I can't afford that this year. This year, no steady strippers, so no gifts.

I saw the most incredible Japanese girl on the subway coming back uptown. She had one of those "bobbed" hairstyles, short but with a flip inward...like girls used to wear in the 60s...she had a stunning face. I think my eyes almost popped out of my head when I saw her. What a smile. I mean, we're talking movie star looks. She was chatting with a girlfriend. I wonder where she went with her friend...and what she's doing now.

Maybe she is having an apple martini.

Well, my sore finger feels better today, and I was able to get lots of typing done.

However, for somebody who manages some complicated tasks in his work life, I seem to be a bit slow when it comes to the process of wrapping, packing, and mailing out holiday presents. It took me forever to get out a couple of packages today. I made three trips to the Fed Ex before I was done, and I still have one package left to go.

In a little while I'm going to meet a business colleague for a Christmas meal, so I should be a little hazy later from the drinks. She loves to drink and who am I not to keep up? Am I a man, or a muenster cheese?

Meanwhile, yesterday I stopped in at a different stripclub than usual to practice my penny-pinching regimen of all-watching, no lapdancing. I have a brew, tip a few dancers, and then go home. I usually spend under a Jackson and get a few relaxing, cheap thrills.

The music in this particular joint was terrible yesterday, though. Now, I'm not an aficionado of rock-n-roll, especially of the latter day varieties of metal and what-not; it just sounds like a lot of hoarse shouting and noise to me. Give me Handel's Water Music any day.

Naturally, this metal stuff is what they were playing at the club yesterday. Ad infinitum. I almost couldn't finish my beer, it was so oppressive.

And I developed a theory.

Since this heavy metal stuff is so loud and so unsexy (at least to my ears), maybe it's played so that the other older patrons of the club, driven to distraction like myself, will be then driven into the arms of the lapdancers so they can find some breasty solace from the audio bombardment.

Bosoms in the face do enable a man to block out unpleasant things.

Because this metal certainly is not the kind of music strippers do their best dancing to. Some have even told me how much they hate when the deejays play it.

After a long stretch, the deejay switched to something else, but when my nerves were unjangled again, my beer was finished and it was time to leave.

Now I remember why I don't go to this particular club so much, besides it's being more expensive in general than the other ones. The music often sucks!

The other day I read in a New York Post gossip column that Lindsay Lohan is preparing to play a topless dancer, and that she bruised her legs practicing pole work.

If she wants extra insight into the stripclub milieu, she should read my blog.

At least it won't leave bruises on her gams, and she might learn a thing or two about how the human heart operates under conditions of extreme ecdysiasm.

Today has definitely been better than yesterday, far more productive and better in the mood department (some thanks are owed to another inexpensive pit stop at the stripclub before dinner), but this morning I accidentally cut one of my fingers just under the nail and it's difficult to type this evening! Arghh. I could hunt and peck but that's not my style. I am a samurai typist--whoosh! Very fast. So I better give the digit a rest so I can not only do my work tomorrow (which involves a lot of typing), but also to blog with my usual lush verbiage! See you on the morrow. And thanks, NW and Topaz, for the good wishes! I hope your own Tuesdays were good, and that your holidays will be even better.

This was a tough Monday. I found it almost impossible to get any decent work done...very frustrating. I was working at home, and I would do a bit of it, then get dissatisfied and get some coffee; then try again and give up and read the paper; then try again and give up and take a shower; then try again and give up and address a Christmas card; then try again and give up and go out to the tittie bar for a beer and an hour of mindless ogling. It was nice to see Veronica onstage, even if it was only for a few minutes before she was swept off to the champagne room with some big spender. Overall, I felt so down all day that I had no appetite until after I left the stripclub at 4:30. Finally hungry, I walked over to the famous frankfurter emporium Gray's Papaya on Eighth Avenue in the garment district and had their $3.50 "recession special"--two hot dogs with mustard and kraut, and a glass of papaya juice. Only then was I able to walk home and sit down and get some okay work done. But I quit when I felt myself going down yet another unproductive tangent.

Somebody once told me a great saying: "You can start your day all over again whenever you want." A helpful maxim, but I found myself starting it over today one too many times. I just hope tomorrow is more productive when I go out to my freelance client's office in New Jersey.

I'm so glad I got a decent night's sleep. Eight and a half hours! Today I felt more together because I wasn't exhausted. I did some more shopping and addressed some Christmas cards. Then I went to the "shiva," or Jewish mourning gathering, for my friend ZP's mother. She passed away just the other day after a long illness.

ZP seemed to be doing okay under the circumstances. Many of his friends were there, in addition to family, and we all sat around drinking coffee and eating lox and bagels and cake. There were family pictures on the wall of his mother's apartment, and it was fun to see ZP at different stages of his life, before he became the tall Kafka lookalike he is today (and actually has been for all the twenty-three years I've known him). In the course of conversation, ZP revealed that his parents gave him tap dancing lessons when he was a child, so we asked him to show off a few moves. Although he only remembered half of one move and of course did not become the next Fred Astaire, he DID become an all-around good guy and loving father to his own kids, as well as being a talented writer, artist, and raconteur. So it looks like his mom did her job pretty well.

And now another week begins. It’s going to be a hectic one, since in addition to the usual shopping and mailing of Hanukkah and Christmas presents, I usually try to finish a lot of work early so I can relax between Christmas and New Year’s. I use those days for end-of-the-year business and to just clear my head. I have another freelance project which I’m itching to start on, which will bring in another bit of sorely needed cash, and I probably could do it during the last week of the year; but I think I need to take these traditional few days to chill out. I’ve been feeling pretty drained of late...I sat at the shiva this afternoon, and I couldn’t recall the name of one of ZP’s friends, somebody I’ve met a hundred times. I had to go through the alphabet in my mind until I finally got to the letter that his name starts with, and then I was able to remember. Ah, the joy of the “senior moment!” So I’m probably feeling more than the usual year-end exhaustion which comes from a relentless pace of work. Between the stress I went through this year worrying about my kid sister as she battled cancer, and the financial upheavals of losing a significant amount of freelance income, I’m ready to sit in front of a tv and watch The Three Stooges from Christmas to New Year’s Day--but with frequent breaks to observe the talent at my favorite stripclub, of course...

Hmm. I wonder if my current focus of fascination, Veronica, will be dancing tomorrow...I’m tempted to get a lapdance from her at some point, but I’m worried that full body contact will break the pleasurable spell she’s cast over me from onstage just with her smile, her figure, her dancing, and the few words we’ve exchanged from time to time as I slip a dollar into her garter...

But I don’t have to make a decision about this tonight.