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personal

New York in the Indigo

When Harry Met Sally is just a film, it’s not the real world

I’ve been sitting here working all damn day. At least it’s the weekend. Hazel took this picture a couple of weekends back at the 7/7/07 rooftop party. Time’s just sprinting by.

People email me asking why Hazel, Somena, or any of my other female friends and I don’t just get together.

It’s because When Harry Met Sally isn’t the real world or the NY I know. In my NY, guys can have three types of female friends: former somethings, just friends, and potential somethings.

In my life at least, we all know the parts we play.

A guy like me won’t end up with a chick just cause she’s around. And vice versa.

Who wants that? That’s like when you eat the crap in the fridge because you’re too lazy to go out so you think, Eh, it looks ok.

I’ve had crazy love before. Once you’ve had that, everything else is a distant second. If you’ve ever been loved, you know. You won’t take less.

Dean Martin knew that you can never really go home to Steubenville after you’ve seen the lights of New York.

I’m alone, yeah.

But I’m not lonely.

OK, back to work…

Location: my black chair, all %#@! day
Mood: beat tired
Music: It ain’t no big thing But I know what I like
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A million ways to buy it

I started volunteering in my church

(c) AP Photo/Seth Wenig

I heard one guy died in that explosion. Sad.

The thing about living here, is that there’s a million ways to buy it in the big city.

When my accident happened, it was exactly like those VW commercials where two people are just chatting and a half-second later, BAM!

Your life can really change just like that.

I know a few people on the East Side, two in particular spring to mind. But we’ve lost touch. They’re all, by chance, part of the people I cut yesterday.

Just as well, what would I say?

Me: Hey, just calling to make sure you’re alive.
Her: I picked up the phone didn’t I?
Me: (pause) Yes. Yes, you did.

I’ve decided to start volunteering in my church.

I’m hoping it’ll balance out my Thursday thru Saturday drinking and womanizing.

Location: 7PM yest., 110 & Broadway, buying a slice
Mood: still maddeningly busy
Music: I hope you know That this has nothing to do with you
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Got a pen?

I’m also meeting a lot of lesbians for some reason

In addition to the Swedish girls, I met a bunch of really attractive lipstick lesbians/bisexuals this past weekend.

Girl 1
Me: Why are you giving me your number?
Her: If you wanna call me, call me, if you don’t, f___ off.
Me: OK. Just to be clear, you mostly like the girlies, yeah?
Her: Yeah, and? (pause) Y’know, gimme back my f____ number.

Girl 2
Her: So what’s your story?
Me: I’m looking for Ms. Right in the big city.
Her: (laughing) Funny, so am I.

The second girl and I have swapped a few emails; she’s in a similar profession. She’s very nice – she’s also a full-on Jewish lesbian. I’m sure she’s a pescatarian from NJ too but I didn’t ask.

Seem to get along with girlies that like the girlies. Modern America.

In the book, Logan’s Run, I’d be 13 years post prime; in the movie, I’d be 4.

Either way, I’m last year’s model.

This week, because of the accident, I did some reassessing. I found out that I was deleted by some people.

And I deleted some people – friends, former loves, acquaintances and about two dozen people I’m embarrassed to say that I just don’t remember.

Some I’ve known for a few days and some I’ve known for 14 years.

I’ve blinked and it’s 2007.07.18. One of you should have called me to let me know that I’m an anachronism.

Sent an email. Even a text. Telegram, maybe?

Something.

———-

Speaking of telegrams, damn that AT&T.;

Here’s 2% of why I hate them; there’s another 98% I could tell you.

Location: 1PM yest., on the BQE to Staten Island
Mood: hella busy
Music: Just get to me I don’t care just get to me

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personal

Logan hates mice and AT&T

Also, here’s a vid of Pixar’s Lifted

 

Right now, I have two major distractions from my daily ruminations on insomnia, girlies, scratch, and the accident:

  1. I hate Cingular / AT&T; with a passion. Pure…white…hot…hatred.
  2. I have a mouse, in my house.

Regarding point one, and without getting into details, I’ve demanded that they write in bold letters in my account notes: We have screwed this man blue (they actually wrote, Client is justifiably upset with our level of service).

Could hate them more – I just don’t see how.

Regarding point two, my kitchen is like the DMZ. I’ve got baits, traps, poisons, and at least one Rube Goldberg/Tom & Jerry contraption – all of which, I think are just amusing them.

Mouse1: What’s that?
Mouse2: He put out peanut butter.
Mouse1: SWEET!
Mouse2: No, it’s that healthful crap. The kind where the oil and stuff separate…
Mouse1: What the @#$! is wrong with that guy? He needs to get some sleep.

Swear those little bastards are drinking my rum too.

Location: 7PM, yesterday, The PIT
Mood: busy
Music: Get on the highway point yourself my way

Categories
personal

The little things Pt II

The little things make life that much better

Me: Actually, I bought a lottery ticket that night. I was sure I’d win.
Her: (laughing) I think you already used up your luck for the day.

The girl that was in the car with me politely told me that we probably wouldn’t be seeing each other again. I guess a car accident on a second date’ll do that.

That same day, I also realized I how much work I had ahead of me both with the car and with real work.

And to top it all off, I got onto the wrong train on my way to the junkyard to deal with my crashed car. Was going to waste at least an hour getting there now.

Little things, yeah. But we know that the little things mean a lot to me.

Pisser.

Then these three kids stepped into the subway car and started hitting everything around them with drumsticks.

Asked them if they would play me something. They did.

The little things almost ruined my day. Then again, a little thing saved it. The guy at the pound said I was a lucky boy. The doc said I was fine.

Later that night, I met four lovely ladies, three of whom were traveling from Sweden. The girl in the conversation above lives around the way. Also met some other people but those are stories for a different time.

Finally fixed my screen.

Perhaps best of all, I slept six hours that night.

Thank God for the little things.

Location: my black chair
Mood: less freaked out
Music: Can music save your mortal soul

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personal

Still Shaky

My insomnia is getting to me

Looked for Selene in the blue sky today. I didn’t see her.

I know I’ve picked up a bunch of new readers and I’m sorry that I’m not more entertaining at the moment.

My insomnia and hand shaking has returned with a vengeance, recent events – both open and secret – have kinda brought me down.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m very grateful I’m alright. Very.

The hand of God is in all things.

But I sometimes I feel like I take a step forward and two steps back all the time, you know?

Do you know where the word, tantalize comes from? There’s this myth where this dude Tantalus, cursed to be thirsty, bends to a stream to drink, only to have it recede just beyond reach. Cursed to be hungry, reaches for an apple, and the branches pull back.

Never go more than a week without a sleepless night. Last week, I slept. Last night, it started again. It’s ever the same. Two weeks now. I know it.

I hate it.

And it’s killing me bit by bit. Absolutely…breaking me.

Not at once. Just a little at a time.

OK, I’ll stop. Emo – just learned the term recently. Sorry. Working through a few things.

Above, the ever popular and lovely KT Tunstall again for your entertainment.

You cannot buy love. You cannot buy sleep. But red, red rum…that you can have for $10 a glass. And YouTube is free.

Friday the 13th. Of course.

I’ll be back on Monday after I’ve bent some time.

See you then.

Location: my red couch
Mood: still freaked out
Music: And now I’ve got a hole for the world to see

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personal

I’m ok

Was just in a car accident

But my car is totaled. There was a picture up there but I deleted it because I’m trying to forget it.

Instead, here’s a picture of the blue sky.

Thank god the girl I was with, who was in the passenger seat, was wearing a seatbelt too because she’s fine too. I had just met her.

I’m still a little muddle-headed.

—–

Thanks for all the kind words. I’m going to make an appointment with the doc today.

My neck’s a bit stiff but hopefully that’ll clear up.

I just spoke to the girl; she went to work but is leaving early because she’s going to see the doc. This was only our second date. At least we’ll both remember each other vividly.

Well, in a way, this is a good date story, no? We both walked away almost completely unscathed.

On another note entirely, I was actually sleeping well last week.

Last night…not so much.

Location: 1:30AM, sitting on a curb in Harlem, praying
Mood: freaked out
Music: When i look at my life, oh me, oh my

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personal

The little things

I live my life through tiny cues

Despite my best efforts, had to go outside today for work. 95+ degrees of hell.

I live my life via interpersonal perception: quick, acute, and intuitive cognition. In other words: tiny cues.

Was at the bookstore the other day and this guy with hella scary tats came in. He had two short sticks in his bag and callouses on his right hand. So I asked, “Are you an XXXX fencer?”

His face broke out into this huge grin and he gave me the salute for my system, which I returned. We’re gonna roll after work craziness stops.

When it comes to women, think I fall or don’t fall for them based on these cues.

Broke it off with this one girl because she never said, “Thank you” to people. There’re a million pretty girls in the big city – I don’t need one that can’t be nice.

Once fell for another girl because, when she thought I couldn’t hear, she’d wash the dishes and sing just…terribly. Another girl would bob her head back and forth when she was happy or wanted to dance. I loved her right away.

In this video, look at Imogen’s eyes 3 mins, 35 sec before it ends. Things like that kill me. I can’t explain why. It just does.

KT Tunstall is half-Chinese with a smoky Scottish voice. My people rock so hard.

In the vid above, watch her eyes 11 seconds before it ends. Eyes get me every time (here’s another version – I’m crushing).

Little things. I’m a sucker for the little things.

Hey, aren’t we all?

Location: still in front of my cracked screen
Mood: oddly content
Music: won’t you please send me back

Categories
personal

Sitting, Waiting, Wishing

Man is made by his belief. As he believes, so he is – Bhagavad Gita

Caligirl: …then there are the serial daters. The guys that are always out and about.
Me: If I were honest, I’d tell you that that’s what I’m afraid of. See, I’ve only ever been in long-term relationships. I never really dated. I think I secretly worried that I might be good at it.
Her: (turning) And?
Me: (laughing) You tell me.

——

Him: You don’t think it’s strange, to have a site with your name on it all about you? And all the stuff you write – who reads it? I mean, you’re just you. You’re just a regular dude. You’re not like a celebrity or anything.
Me: “Man is made by his belief. As he believes, so he is.
Him: What?
Me: (shrugging) It just means that in my head, I think I’m someone.

Location: still in front of this cracked screen
Mood: weird
Music: Must I always be waiting waiting on you?

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personal

Oh, this doesn’t look good…

Just broke another computer

 

…this doesn’t look good at all.

I am seriously the most clumsy person I know.

Location: In front of my cracked computer screen
Mood: dismayed
Music: This town is crazy, but nobody cares