Tag: baggage

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personal

…you’re speaking Martian?

 

BBQ picnic with glass of wine

Buddy once told me this story once, maybe it was on SNL, where this really lonely dude had this affliction where he could only talk in a really sarcastic voice. Yet everything he said was in earnest.

Her: Do you wanna play?
Him: Oh puh-lease, I totally wanna play with someone like you. Like I’m so lonely…
Her: Jerk…

And yet he did. My buddy, who’s not a sentimental fella, said it was poignant.

Consider this, it’s said that: Communication isn’t what the speaker says, it’s what the listener hears.

And my weekend sucked cause…don’t it feel like sometimes that everyone’s speaking English and you’re speaking Martian?

Me: How much longer till the food’s ready?
Him: (laughing) Shaddup and drink your girlie pink wine.
Me: Oh, I’m drinking it…y’watch…I’m drinking it…

OK fine, it didn’t totally suck; saw a lotta old friends the past two days. Lemme give you the Zone Improvement Plan version:

  • Drive up to 10804 to have some rosé and, possibly, an entire pig.
  • Wanted to stay but had to drive to 07030 deal with some baggage.
  • Then drive to 10024 to discuss my sinful life I enjoy a bit too much. Fella stops by and I tell him to take his chances while he can.
  • Crash and then wake to walk to 10023 and mail something to 91326 fore saying goodbye to the HEI.
  • She’s leaving 10001 to maybe make a go with fella around 94117. Tell her to take her chances too. She’s leaving my Venn diagram after all, but she says that she’ll send me an email from time to time.
  • Can’t chat for long though; have to dash to 10018 to meet up with a friend for an Irish Breakfast.
  • Pat him on the back fore running down to 10010‎ to get a kiss and a cuppa joe.
  • Want to stay longer but take the bus to 10019 to get x-rayed. Lady asks me to give her the finger and then laughs when she realizes what she asked. But I do anyway.
  • Happened to be by my old law school at 10023 so walk there and sweet-talk a girlie into letting me into the school for the first time in 10 years.
  • Was a nice day so stroll up to 10024 where I meet up with WM for 20 wings and a pitcher of beer.

Saw no less than 20 people in two days but…don’t it feel like sometimes that everyone’s speaking English and you’re speaking Martian?

Or that y’keep saying the same things over again but no one ever hears?

Buddy once told me this story once, maybe it was on SNL…

Fordham Law School Atrium

 

Location: giving her the finger on 59th Street
Mood: full
Music: maybe I’m the broken one

Categories
personal

Still on your side

Got some win so I bought a donut. True, it was a whole wheat donut but a donut nonetheless.

———-

My ex and I spoke the other day. She’s moving from the NY Times to onea the other NYC papers. Just as well, it’s weird opening up the Saturday paper and seeing, not just her stuff but two of the three men she saw after (and during) me.

Never blamed her for leaving me – I was a lout. Just had a problem with how she did it. Then again, thought she was great but I never showed her, so really, who’s fault was it? Which brings me to a conversation I had yesterday with someone else entirely.

Her: You’re mean.
Me: What if you knew I was always on your side?
Her: What do you mean, on my side?
Me: When I was a little kid, my mom brought me to the doctor for a shot. She lied to me to get me there. I was furious. Thought I hated her and told her as much. Made her cry. Thing is, (a) she knew info I didn’t know and (b) she was on my side – meaning, she was looking out for my best interest, even though I didn’t know it. What if the two were true for me to you; would that change what you think about what I do and say? Don’t answer, just a random thought.

Question for you: Does the person you’re with cut you slack or pounce on every screwup, real or imagined? In other words, is the person you’re with on your side? Harder question, are you on theirs?

Just a random thought.

Wonder what mischief I can get myself into this weekend?

Location: 20:00 yest, dinner with the family
Mood: fat ‘n content
Music: My yesterdays are all boxed up and neatly put away

Categories
personal

Pets, Pt. II

Being friends with an ex comes with its own special baggage

Think I’m pretty much just feeding the mice at this point. They even keep eating all the poison bait I put out, with no effect.

Mouse1: Look, I like that he leaves us food on these shiny wood and metal plates. But, #$@#! That green stuff gave me a @#$@#! stomachache.
Mouse2: Why do you have to curse so much?
Mouse1: I’ve become inured to it as the expressive vocabulary of my society. It’s neither indicative of a belief nor of a value system.
Mouse2: (…)
Mouse1: (sighing, shaking head) I know, we totally gotta get outta this #$@#$@ joint.

May take one of No. 6’s cats. Besides the mouse issue, I miss having a pet that doesn’t swim in its own waste.

Unfortunately, my last conversation with her was decidedly unpleasant. While I like the thought of having a cat that I’m used to, I’m worried it’s gonna come with baggage.

No more baggage for this bright-eyed, bushy-tailed, Asian boy, thanx.

Plus, I’ve never had a little kitten before; that might be kinda cool.

But we’ll see.

Wonder how Harold’s gonna take it.

Location: PM yest., 26th Precinct, writing a check
Mood: still sick
Music: After all the b__s__ I’ve heard It’s refreshing
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Categories
personal

Wrong baggage

Well, I’ve had an unpleasant evening. Don’t ask. I’m still not sleeping either. Maybe it’ll get better but in the meanwhile, I thought about my recent past.

I took this bag with me all over the world for two years. I had it custom made back when I had some coin.

I wanna see the sun in Santa Monica again, or the sun on Five Finger Mountain in Xinzhu again, or the sun on the Baltic Sea in Denmark again, or the…oh you get the point.

I hated traveling around the world when I had to, now I miss it so. It is always greener there, isn’t it?

No worries, I’m still hopeful. Just not here.

Too much baggage.

Location: @11:21, leaving the east side
Mood: melancholy
Music: just a notch in your bedpost But you’re just a line in a song