More Traveling

I’m just south of nowhere and east of limbo

I’m here right now – about 350+ miles from home. This place is so remote that there’s no airport nearby so I had to drive. You do a lot of thinking driving 350+ miles.

The last few times I drove so far, I thought about the ex constantly. I thought of her again, of course, but I also thought about other things.

A few years ago, a friend asked me to set him up with a Vietnam visa on arrival for him and his girlfriend from China. I started the paperwork.

A month or so later, I got a slim letter from him with a check; the letter read:

“We’re not getting married; here’s $600 for your time. Thanks!”

I didn’t know what to say. I had already starting being an impoverished writer so I cashed the check (I’m not a good person), gave him a quick call, confirmed he was ok and moved on. That was four years ago.

We spoke a little while ago. He told me that he spent two, three years casually dating but, in his heart, he thought that she might come back. They spoke occasionally. He got a call from her and she said that she was coming to visit America and would like to see him for dinner.

He was excited, of course, but when they sat down, she said that she came because she heard a bit of hope in his voice the last time they spoke. It bothered her that whole time so she flew 24+ hours to give him closure.

He said it was the nicest thing anyone ever did for him. He knew where he stood – that made him free.

I think he’s doing well now.

Anywho, I think about the ex a lot less and I think I’m almost at the point that I want to do something like that for her. The last time we spoke, I heard in her voice something like hope and I’m not looking for that right now. She’s not the girl I loved and I’m def. not that guy anymore. Oh, but what do I know?

I’ve become bland and malicious.

I’ve been doing a lot of things I’m not…oh you know…

So that’s where I am right now, just south of nowhere and east of limbo.

The weather’s crappy.

Location: South of nowhere and east of limbo.
Mood: Tired
Music: I’ma scuffle and struggle till I’m breathless and weak

Grace is Gone

Dusting off my typewriter

Stuffed from too much turkey to really write anything about me (nothing much happened beyond my gorging myself silly anyway).

I did want to say that I met up with a friend of mine for dinner the other day and, while I was waiting for her to arrive in the bookstore, I overheard a boy say to his girlfriend, “I’ll never let you go.”

That prompted me to dust off a pencil and write this because I’m a bitter, bitter, little man:

Grace is Gone

“I’ll never let you go,” the mother said,
and baby Grace cooed and stretched out her arms.
“I’ll never let you go,” the young man said,
as Grace smiled and kissed him.
“I’ll never let you go,” the husband growled,
as Grace inhaled and shot him in the head.
I’ll never let you go,” the judge said,
as Grace screamed and collapsed.
“I’ll never let you go,” the young woman said,
and Grace smiled and breathed her last.
“I’ll never let you go,” the mother said,
and baby Grace cooed and stretched out her arms.

Location: @9AM – on the couch, eating leftovers
Mood: Full
Music: It’s 2 am, I’m drunk again, Its heavy on my mind

Second story, first thoughts

The one where I met another blogger

Heart in hand, I made my way to the west side uptown line. I haven’t taken a cab by myself in a while and I feel it’s somewhat wasteful. Plus the walking always clears my mind.

I was in the subway and this very small woman had a bag covering her hand so that she didn’t have to hold onto the railing.

Not that I blame her, I would do the same thing; there’s 4.7 million subway riders a day. That’s more people than most cities have. You’ve gotta figure someone has something nasty.

But the thing was that this woman had a tiny, tiny sandwich bag around her tiny, tiny hand. I looked at her, then at this pretty blond sitting across from she and we both laughed. The blond took out a pen and a pad and wrote out something. We then reached my stop and the blond exited also.

I had to ask.

Me: Did you write about that woman?
Her: Yes, not that I blame her, I would do the same thing. I have a blog about the subway…
Me: Funny you say that, it just so happens…

We exchanged blog information, which I think is so comically modern (note that this is all at two or three in the morning). If you’re at all interested, her blog is here.

Yes, I am a complete dweeb. But, I would like to point out that you are reading the blog of a complete dweeb.

Oh my.

The lack of sleep is making me rude.

No excuse…

Sorry.

Location: knee-deep in computer parts
Mood: Amused
Music: I just couldn’t take the hurt again, What a feeling

Lost heart in the big city…

Dusting off the typewriter

My insomnia is maddening but this means I can tell you a quick story (one of two for this night):

I was walking home late tonight and pulled my jacket around me because I was cold. A young woman smiled as she brushed past me and I smiled back. She tripped and fell down, embarrassed, and her heart fell out from her jacket.

I saw it fall so I leaned over and picked it up and called out to her but the wind drowned me out. She had already crossed the street. After the light changed, I ran after her but she disappeared.

So I stood there in middle of 14th Street and 3rd Avenue holding onto something that didn’t belong to me. I decided to put it in my pocket in case I ran into someone missing a heart in the big city.

As always, I took the long walk home. For some reason, I wasn’t as cold.

Location: @1:30AM – 14th Street and 3rd Avenue, just past R&KW
Mood: Awake
Music: My heart was broke, my head was sore, what a feeling

Five Days…eh…

The insomnia begins again. Well, five days of good sleep is something.

At least I’ve got entertainment – my brother sent me this and I found it funny. At 2:34 in the morning, few things are.

(I’m not saying what my political slant is and it’s most likely not what you think it is).

Oh man, I’m not looking forward to another two weeks of insomnia.

Dammit, I’m going to make myself a BLT…

Location: about to step into kitchen to check for bacon
Mood: Awake
Music: If I could change your mind, I’d really love to break your heart

2:41:14 AM

Moving along

I’m moving plenty but not getting anywhere.

It’s been a pretty interesting set of days.

On Tuesday, I met up with an old business partner at The Iroquois Hotel at 49 West 44th Street. It was for Cruzan Rum roll-out of their new Seven Year Rum and their purchase by Absolut Vodka. It was a pretty killer private dinner (there’s a picture in my vanity section) – it started with a beet salad with Gorgonzola, then an entree of filet mignon, and then a dessert of poached pears. So good. It was nice being in a business environment again – it was also nice eating food I didn’t have to unwrap first.

I also met up with my headshrinker friend. He owns this huge seven-story apartment in mid-town and it looks like a classical Japanese building from the inside – so cool. You could walk by it a million times and not know what it looks like inside. It’s the nicest building in Times Square, IMHO. We used to live there after college; it was a long time ago. We were poor but we had a great time.

I had dinner with a good female friend last night and things happened that should or should not have happened. I’m still trying to figure that part out. I think she is too.

Two other weird women related things happened today too:

  1. I met this girl at the bookstore and we were just chatting innocently enough when her boyfriend appeared and was obviously very steamed. I wanted to say, “We were just talking,” but he left before I could say anything. She just rolled her eyes and said, “That’s my crazy boyfriend.” I think I said something like, “I could tell” but I don’t remember.
  2. Right afterwards, I was walking down 20th where there’s a shooting range. I was meeting a friend that shoots there and there was this small Asian girl there, which I thought was strange. I started talking to her and we exchanged contact information. I thought she was just someone visiting someone else until she whipped out this huge (I mean, gi-NORMOUS) .357 revolver and proceeded to absolutely kill a paper target,which I assumed had insulted her previously in some manner

Yesterday I walked from 192nd Street and Broadway to 128th Street and Amsterdam. Today I walked from Delancy and Allen Streets to 20 West 20th Street.

I’m moving plenty but I don’t think I’m getting anywhere.

Location: @ 2:something – on a couch in a Cafe @Allen&Delancy;
Mood: Content
Music: you ain’t keeping me up all night no more

Hello!

An insomniac getting sleep is like a normal person winning the lottery

Slept for nine glorious hours last night. Nine hours! For an insomniac, that’s like winning $100 with one of those scratch and win cards. Maybe even $150.

Feel clear-headed again for the first time in almost two weeks.

I’m always hoping it lasts longer than a week but I’ll take what I can get.

My hands stopped shaking too.

Today, gonna make passes at random women and buy things I can’t afford – I’m expecting it to be a good day.

Even if it’s not, it already is…

Location: @1AM, dreaming of highways
Mood: Rejuvenated
Music: Rise and shine, good morning howdy

I’m on my way home

Looking for a place to call home

My insomnia’s resulting in a lot more late night eating than usual. Better hit the gym soon.

Someone from my past dropped me a meaningless email today. But it stopped me cold. It’s so weird how someone can encompass your life and then, much later, just shoot you a random email about randomness. It made me feel very much adrift.

Speaking of which, had dinner with a very old friend of mine yesterday who happens to be a head-shrinker. Told him that I just wanted to hop the next plane to anywhere and he laughed and said that, generally, people that have a desire to travel are looking for a place to call home.

How random.

Location: @11:00, in Billyburg, talking to a 23 YO communist woman
Mood: Tired
Music: tonight, tonight, I’m on my way, I’m on my way home

Getting outta Dodge

Keep thinking of going far away; all I really end up going is mad

Think I’m going a little mad.

My hands won’t stop shaking and I’ve become obsessed with idea of just hopping on a plane and going somewhere far away. I don’t know where or what I’d do about the mortgage, the businesses, the job, everything.

I was once very happy on this little beach in just south of Denmark. I was also once happy in the Forbidden City. I was also once happy in my little apartment off 5th Avenue. I was also once happy here.

My #$@$#@$@# hands won’t stop shaking.

And I still can’t sleep.

Think I’m going a little mad.

Location: @12:10AM, almost hitting 90 on the West Side Highway.
Mood: Weird
Music: I’ve got to go, I’ve got to go, I’ve got to go…

Voting Day

After a breakup, nothing makes sense

Went to vote today.

The joint was totally empty and a bunch of tired old people stood, smiled and shuffled me around when I arrived. It’s always cool to vote. It’s easy for me because my polling station is just across the street from my pad. I went in my pajama top and a pair of jeans and sneakers.

Whom I voted for is less important than the fact I did.

In my personal life, the ex and I spoke again last night for quite a while. Not sure what I should do about that whole thing. Not even sure what it all means.

When it comes down to it, miss being in love.

Man, I’m such a sap. And here I am voting in the most powerful country in the world.

They should have a screening process to keep out the saps.

Location: @4:00 – pulling levers
Mood: Working
Music: This is a message, pay attention
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