Clear

 

Went for a walk with my girl downtown this past weekend. Maybe that’s what made me sick again. Was worth it though. There’re few things in life as a walk down Central Park and Broadway on a nice day. Saw a girl in a cat costume with a hula hoop.

Been taking all of the junk I found cleaning my cellar and selling it on ebay, craigslist, you name it. Found this one dress with a price tag that said $14,000 in there and more computers than y’can shake a stick at.

Some things I remember, some things I have no idea how they got there. Story of my life, yeah?

In A Study in Scarlet, Sherlock Holmes said to Watson that the mind’s like an attic – you can only have so much crap in it before you run outta room.

Einstein echoed this when he said that, Never memorize what you can look up in books.

But I digress, point is that I’m tossing a lotta old stuff to make room for new stuff.

Still sick – my head’s stuffy. But I’m trying to clear things out. Wanna unclutter my mind and suppose that starts with uncluttering everything else.

Location: 16:00 yest, Grand Central
Mood: still @#$@#$ sick
Music: Singing to my pillow, I woke up out of tune.

Words

Location: having a gyro with my pop east of 11354
Mood: still sick
Music: lemme light your candle, cause mama I’m sure hard to handle


Her
: You getting closer to normal.
Me: You mean, “normalcy.”
Her: (shaking head) Well, you just took a step back.

Woke up this morning and fixed myself a killer filtered ground bean soup with cow-baby food. But just cause I can’t go a day without it, also had some roasted mashed peas with pre-digested insect vomit and baked wet flour along with it. Big fan of insect vomit. Especially when I’m sick. Wish I had liquid from a citrus reproductive unit to go with it but no luck.

Heartgirl just boiled some water with vegetables and dissolved insect vomit cause my cold’s coming back.

Stupid cold.

———-

Agree with Obama’s assertion that the phrase, Just words, is insulting. Words’re how we organize the world around us, not just to other people but to ourselves.

Was out with my girl the other day and we heard a guy just screaming obscenities at the top of his lungs in middle of Columbus Circle. And the people around him were visibly uncomfortable.

Look, sometimes few things match the situation better than expletive. And sometimes, y’gotta cut some people slack cause it’s the only vocabulary they got.

But what if it’s not? Cause, sometimes cursing’s just cursing, and that’s fine. But sometimes cursing’s showing the other person how y’process the world.

And that might not be what y’want.

———-

Woke up this morning and fixed myself a killer cafe au lait. But just cause I can’t go a day without it, also had some peanut butter and honey on a biscuit with it. Big fan of honey. Especially when I’m sick. Wish I had some lemon juice to go with it but no luck

Heartgirl just made me some tea with honey cause my cold’s coming back.

Damn cold.

YASYCTAI: Clean up that stack of magazine: read or toss. (240 mins/2 pts)

Heartgirl’s surprise elements

new york city, nyc, Astor place, St. Marks

Spent the last two months planning a surprise birthday for Heartgirl.

Everyone should have a nice surprise from time-to-time. Mine are always of the, “Think you should sit down,” ilk.

Started off with a buncha her friends at a tapas joint Saturday. Four pitchers of sangria and 24+ plates of food later, waddled off to M1-5, where we threw the opening party for 72nd to Canal. Heartgirl was totally surprised.

Her best friend brought a huge cake (and I forgot Clara, my newest camera). We barely made a dent in it. Interestingly, her best friend’s also Irish and her husband’s also Asian. He and I spent the tail end of the night picking at the cake. Mainly cause we just don’t let things go to waste like that.

Rain, Paul, Tess, WM, Gio and Hazel all made an appearance too, if only just to drink with me. We had a whole section to ourselves. It was 2AM when we left and 4AM when we called it a night.
Cabdriver: (pointing to her) She drunk?
Me: Yes, but she’s not going to boot in your car.
Her: I’m Irish. We don’t do that.

Sunday, Heartgirl and I took the whip out in a misguided attempt to go shopping in the burbs. The reason why it was misguided is best illustrated with Boolean logic:

Elements (in)

  • Gut-wrenching nausea (Gwn)
  • Hangover (H)
  • Heatgirl (Hg)
  • Logan (L)
  • Rum (R)
  • Wine (W)
  • Sundry alcoholic products (S)

Where

  • + = “and”
  • ~ = “not” or “no”
  • = “but not”
  • = = “results in”


Ergo

  • L+R=~H
  • Hg+W+S-R=H+Gwn

In short, my trip to the burbs was ill-conceived at best.

However, Heartgirl did note that she enjoyed her birthday greatly. She said she was glad she spent it with me, then fell asleep on my couch as I went off to church.

———-

In other news, the buddy that swung by last time when that woman was screaming Chinatown came by again and brought me out for Malaysian food on his per diem. Man, I miss having a diem.

And I’m becoming a chunky monkey. Gotta start working out again. Stupid cold…

Location: 20:00 yest, ordering the Roti on 72nd
Mood: busy ~sick
Music: count to five Let’s craft the only thing we know into surprise
YASYCTAI: Try some new cuisine. Like Spanish tapas. (60 mins/1 pt)

Lies and Ties

The original NYC police station

My brother’s in town and he’s helping fix somea the computers here.

Him: Apparently somebody’s been plagiarizing mom’s articles and reprinting them online.
Me: How can you tell?
Him: (laughing) She told me…and she’s a got a folder that’s named, Someone copy my article.

Someone copy my article

Heartgirl told me recently that she doesn’t know what to tell people when they ask what I do for a living. It’s funny, all of the women I dated’ve said the same thing. Most of my friends don’t know.

It’s…complicated, how I make my money.

I’ve a particularly odd skillset but the funny thing’s that I’m very good at a several, seemingly unrelated things. But if I had to sum it up to in one unifying idea, it’s that I collect and process data.

Writing, in fact, is an example of my processing data; I take various disparate concepts, weave them to one (hopefully) coherent argument and distill that to a printed page.

On that note, I’ve gotta pick one of these skillsets sooner than later.

Him: You said you’re in for the next gig.
Me: I’m thinking of being an officer of the court again.
Him: (laughing) They’re no different than us except they wear ties.

Location: 14:00 yest, being told to rinse and spit in Queens (again)
Mood: still sick
Music: The sun in your eyes made some of the lies worth believing

God help us – Ole!

Location: my pad, all day
Mood: sore-throat-y
Music:
is this the ceremony? I don’t know, well I don’t mind

I’m sick. Not pig flu. Don’t think. Just tired with a horrible sore throat. Send soup.

So I’ve been reading and watching stuff. The above vid’s prob the best thing I’ve seen in a while. I said once before, that being grateful is the key to not being broken. Sorta what she’s talking about.

One other interesting thing was from Heartgirl. She sent me this from the tiny government that manages to cling to political survival in Somalia – it’s their response to the swine flu.

SOMALIA: No capacity to deal with such pandemics due to the prolonged civil war and destruction of medical facilities. “We are not prepared for anything like the swine flu; we don’t have the means to deal with it,” Awad Abdi, adviser to the Somali Health Ministry said. God help us if it reaches here….

How sad and comical is that, all at once?

YASYCTAI: Watch the vid, you’ll thank me. (19.29 mins/1 pt)

Bigger holes

Date night at the Museum of Natural History in NYC

American Museum of Natural History NYC

 

Was walking to church tonight when I accidentally kicked a piece of ice and and it skidded along when a guy kicked it back, by accident. So I kicked it back to him and he kicked it into the street. As we passed each other:

Him: (laughing) Happy holidays.
Me: (laughing) You too, man.

Quiet weekend. Saw my friend Nadi for dinner where I chatted up these two pretty girlies. They asked what I was doing in their town and I told them was seeing my girlfriend. After that, they ignored me for the rest of the night, which I found amusing. Convinced Nadi to come into the city with me and she met Heartgirl and Paul.

Saturday, Heartgirl and I went to the Museum of Natural History and saw the Cosmic Collisions – very cool. They had a blinking keychain with my name on it. She grabbed one too that just happened to be the name of her ex. It’s hard to compete with an imaginary person. Plus, her creepy friend just sounds like a really needy tool. He makes me wanna roll my eyes more than wanna take a shower these days.

Went home and caught Can’t Buy Me Love with her – which was the very first movie I ever went on a date with. Was 14 years old then – man, I’m old. Hadn’t seen in, quite literally, decades. Was good except for the clapping. Hate when they have clapping scenes in films and every 80’s high school film had one.

Her: (noting clothing in film) I’m so glad I didn’t grow up in the 80s.

Suppose I have reservations about Heartgirl cause the more you let someone in, the bigger the hole they leave if they…leave. So I’m always the guy that bolts for any reason whatsoever – better to bolt before you get too attached. Maybe it’s too late. I rather like the quiet nights of my boring life. Sorry guys. Oh wait – I grew a beard. That’s about as exciting as my life gets these days.

Her: Do you miss it? The nightlife, the…
Me: (interrupting) Not even a little bit.

American Museum of Natural History NYC Logan Keychain

 

Location: 20:00, directing traffic in church
Mood: sick
Music: crayola doesn’t make a color for your eyes

None of your business

Heartache or papercuts

With nods to Jaerik and my friend who cares way too much.

I figure at least 20 people hate me in this world. One of them is this old hippie that yelled at me in Cooper Union while stumbling home for having my feet up on a public seat. My feet, I said, with a wink and a smile, are probably cleaner than most people’s butts.

Ass___, she said. To which I shrugged and said, That’s merely your opinion. And why should your opinion matter to me? You didn’t even say hello.

Considering that there are 6,641,114,623 people in the world, the fact that 20 hate me, that’s pretty good. In fact, I don’t have a calculator that can compute such a tiny figure. Try it.

Whatever someone thinks of me is just their opinion. Someone’s else’s opinion should not control your life – it’s a sucker’s bet.

Frankly, it’s none of my business what people think of me. It’s none of your business either.

On a grand scale, wars are fought over opinions. People fly planes into buildings because they have an opinion. Men become stalkers because they have an opinion. Little girls commit suicide because of people’s opinions.

On a more personal scale, you’ll drive yourself starkers caring what people think of you. I wasted my youth and my 20s tilting at those windmills. In this world, you can only ever change things about yourself.

The rest is just heartache or paper cuts.

In other news, I’m sick again. I’m always getting sick. Dammit.

Location: 5:30 yest, going to bed
Mood: sick again
Music:
Love me or hate me, it’s still an obsession

Life – Real and otherwise

Location: 21:00 yest, turning onto Northern Blvd.
Mood: sick
Music: I’ve fallen from my nest so high above Help me fly I am too afraid try

So either my parents are reading my blog, someone’s telling them about it, or they’re eerily perceptive. I’ve been crashing with them when I get out past 21:30.

Him: Sit down, I wanna write you something. (writes) This is from Mencius. Before Life decides to give greatness onto someone, she’ll test them first – she’ll make them suffer. It’s suffering that gives you depth and wisdom.
Me: Thanks but…why’re you telling me this now?

Him: (shrugging) You got home so late. I thought you should know.

Her: Do you want some rum?

Me: (shocked) What?

Her: I like rum. I’ve got the spiced kind for some rum cakes and one from Brazil. Do you like rum?

Me: (long pause) A little.

Really, really weird.

———-

I wonder if you and I’d get along in real life.

I’m told I’m funny and smell nice in RL; I’m also told I get moody right quick and disappear for months – years, sometimes. But I’d call or write – or at least wonder how you were. Honest.

It’s probably better you just come to this blog and find out what I’m up to, shug, and go, Eh, about the same.

Speaking of the same, I’m sick again. Send soup?

Somehow Stay

Heard a song by Tara Leigh Cobble that I liked

Called the ex today. Purely practical reasons, I assure you. Wasn’t that bad. Like I said yesterday, forgetting is good.

More on that later.

Went to church last Sunday.

Met this woman named named Tara-Leigh Cobble who sang a song called Somehow Stay. I liked it because I thought that it sounded like something I might have written; it’s a gospel but works as a love song too.

Liked it so much that I picked it up; you can also go to her website and hear it to decide if you like it.

OK, back to coughing up a lung…

Location: haven’t moved
Mood: sick
Music: none of us Are living the lives we planned
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Red rum on the rocks with a slice of orange

“You awake?” she asked

Once again, I’m gonna ask you to send me soup.

Every time I go through these two week periods with little sleep and lots of work, I worry about getting sick. And then I get sick.

Dammit.

With nods to Sabatoa, Katsmw, Furison, and everyone who’s asked me this in real life – I have this conversation almost every weekend:

Him: Nasty. Why rum?
Me: I like the taste of a good aged rum, like a Cruzan or Montecristo. Plus it’s got the least amount of carbohydrates, acetaldehyde and congeners so you can drink buckets of the stuff and never get a gut, a hangover, or into a fight. (pause) Also, I like to pretend I’m a pirate – YAAARRRRRG!

———-

Her: (whispering) Are you awake?
Me: (sleepily) I’m always awake.

Location: back in my black chair
Mood: both sick & tired
Music: Around a quarter to two I have remembered all of my lines
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