Location: back at my pad
Mood: pensive
Music: washed up for years And I merely survive because of my pride

The Hoboken Pier from the W Hotel

Me: What do guys say to you that you hate most?
Her: That’s easy: A pretty girl like you should smile. Swear, another guy says that when I’m trying to catch the train, I’m going to deck them.

Had quite the weekend. Still sorting out details but it’s a doozy. Spent it at the W Hotel in Hoboken, cause it’s nice to get away from the basecamp on occasion, even if it’s just across a river.

Went across another river yesterday to see the rents in Queens yesterday. Ate at an all-you-can-eat buffet, which, for a secret fatty like meself, is just this side of awesome. Spent mosta the day yesterday trying not to crawl under my desk and take a nap.

Lotsa birthdays this week; went to my buddy Kung’s, which was a lot more sedate than two years ago.

My bro turns 39 this week. I turned 37 earlier this year, which made me think that he had to go through his first two years without me.

He musta been so bored those first two years.

Random thoughts; random day. We’ve got many rivers to cross.

YASYCTAI: Go through that pilea papers. (60 mins/1 pt)


Braun M&Ms

A good buddy of mine just got married

DUMBO restaurant

Just tried to make some sourdough bread and it barely rose. Damn.

I’ll try again.


Me: Do you wanna move to San Deigo?
Her: I heard it’s boring there.
Me: We’re boring.
Her: This is true.

Still daydreaming about elsewhere again.

Story goes that Van Halen put in all of their contracts that a bowla M&Ms; without a single brown M&M; had to be waiting backstage for them otherwise they’d cancel an entire concert. Sounds like vain diva thing to ask, yeah?

Turns out, it was a shrewd business move, cause their shows’re complex in terms of setup, and each linea their contracts had to be completed so that the show’d go off without a hitch. If they went backstage and there wasn’t a bowl or any brown M&Ms;, they immediately knew that no one read the contract closely.

Like I always say, it’s the little things.

Speakinga little things, dusted off my old German book recently.

Vielleicht ziehen wir nach Deutschland um. Aber sie spricht kein Deutsch (nicht dass ich kann Deutsch). Und ich spreche kein Französisch..

Na, wenigstens haben wir Rum…


It’s April 2010. Gonna be 37 this month. Oh my.

Suppose it’s better than the alternative.

Location: the same old
Mood: daydreaming
Music: dreaming of blue skies, new horizons and sights



Went with her to Washington DC again

Picture of the Washington Monument.

DC was nice, as always.

Went there and back via train. Neither my life nor the trains I ride run on (or close to) schedule.

The weather was amazing on Sunday so we took a walk to Lincoln and Vietnam Memorial. Turns out the reflecting pool does actually reflect – it’s a mobile phone shot but y’can still see it.

Nuthin like it on a nice sunny day with the blue sky.

Went to the Vietnam Memorial for the first time. Quite something. Dunno if y’know this but Ross Perot sponsored a design competition for it and when Maya Lin, a 21 year-old Asian nobody – a gook – won it with a black slab, he and a tona others were pissed. Onea them shouldn’t be building a Vietnam Memorial.

The New York Times, headlined, Insulting Vietnam Vets. Where were the statues, the flags? Looked like a tombstone.

Kinda reminds me of all of the political ruckus over everything these days. Everyone’s so sure they’re right; all this sound and fury signifying nuthin.

So a few meters away from the memorial that was actually built, Perot had a statue put up.

A teenage girl was talking on her cell phone when I went to visit and about a third of the way in, think she finally realized what she was reading, hung up her phone, and quietly walked the resta the way.

Ross Perot, Pat Buchanan, all the critics did similar things when the actually saw the thing. Every organization that attacked Maya later apologized.

Cause Maya knew that when you put up names, a lista people kids that got themselves killed for a country that hated them, it’s hard to ignore that they existed.

It’s quite something.

Man doing a pencil rubbing on the Vietnam War Memorial
Wilted rose by the Vietnam War Memorial


Location: 20:00 yest, stuck outside Penn Station
Mood: grateful
Music: I’m down to a whisper In a daydream on a hill



Location: 15:00 yest, taking these pics
Mood: hella beat
Music: wanna bathe you in the light of day

Seagull standing on Brighton Beach

Started the day talking myself outta one parking ticket but not the other. Stupid parking/driving rules.

Heard that before Brooklyn became parta NYC in 1898, it was like the 11th largest city in the nation or somethin like that.

Gotta believe it cause I got crazy lost out there today. Ended up on Brighton Beach where every street seems to be named Brighton.

This empty parking spot came up on my left so I figured it was a sign and pulled in.

Stepped out and stood on the beach looking at the blue sky. Thought to myself that my city’s really got it all. Snapped a coupla pics and slid back into my car for 90 minutes of traffic to go 19 miles. My day got better brightened after that.

Rushed home to spend my night with my girl for the first time in a while. Not exactly as I hoped.

Check that. NYC’s got it all cept for reasonable driving and parking. Sides that, we got it all.

Seagull swooping down in Brighton Beach

: This is different, I really like her.
Me: You always say that, and you always really like them.
Him: Come on, this’s different. Few people ever do what we did. (pause) OK, you did but besides you…
Me: Everybody thinks their thing’s special. Maybe it is, but give it time to find out.

There’re plentya times people think something’s something, but turns out to be a whole lotta nuthin.

Girl sitting by herself on a park bench in Brighton Beach

YASYCTAI: Go to another parta town y’always said you’d go to. (120 mins/1 pt)


Details in my eye

NYC nighttime skyline


Spent last Friday bouncing around a farm in upstate NY in the rain. Funny thing was that the price for 3,441,240 SF farm is about the same as my 1,700 SF apartment.

Came back to hit up a birthday party for my bro at a karaoke joint. Friends, pizza, rum – what’s there not to like? Afterward we went to this rooftop bar in midtown. My liver and I’re on speaking terms again so took it easy.

Feel bad that I didn’t have enough time to spend with my bro but was glad to see him when I could.

Told onea our close friends and favourite people that when I was 14, I was 5’3″ and 185 pounds.

And she told us that she had a little sister that she lost when the sis was 19.

Dunno how y’make it past something like that; how do you overcome that blow?

Let’s you and I never find out, yeah?


I can only hope

that Some day, some day,

not quite so far away,

the contrails in the sky

match the details in my eye

and I’ll be who

I’m meant to be.

NYC stop sign
You see,

I do believe I would be free

if only these memories would leave.

But then the places of my past

contrast the faces of my mind.

So then I think of them,

and they of me.


I can only hope.


Just screwing around with HTML, folks.

And now, a duck goose:

Upstate duck


Location: my pad all day
Mood: melancholy
Music: We stood so tall we caught a plane by the wing and held it


Irony:Sarcasm :: Witty:Douchey


View from Central Park
Her:…the usual: burgers, hot dogs. Oh and there’ll be softball…
Me: Nope.
Me: Nope.
Me: Nope. (pause) But if there’s a competition to compute pi to the 27th digit, I’m all in. You can be on my team.
Her: (later) Maybe you shouldn’t come.
Me: (nodding)

Heartgirl and I went for a stroll in the lovely weather through Sheep Meadow. Realized that she’s younger than a little girl that I used to tutor in English; taught that girl the word, kiosk and how to do analogies for the SATs.

Suddenly, I feel very old. And slightly pervy.

Speaking of the SATs, there’s a difference between ironic and sarcastic. Irony is sarcasm without the meanness.

Lemme ask you something; since when was sarcasm perceived to equal to intelligence?

Meet so many douches these days that are 24/7 sarcastic that’re actually quite stupid. But they’re so very proud of their stubbornness, so smug in their assurance that they’re right, that they can’t see that they might be wrong. And they often are.

Look, I’m all for some sarcasm, but it’s called the the lowest form of wit for a reason. Irony‘s clever. Sarcasm‘s just hoping that if you sound pissed off or certain enough, no one’s gonna call you out that you don’t, actually, know a damn thing.

Unfortunately, now people got Twitter, blogs, status updates, and texts to show off how little they actually know about anything in angry little sarcastic rants.

Endless waves of twitter, blogs and status updates mucked with vitriol and sarcasm doesn’t make a stupid person sound intelligent; I’m afraid. Cause a tech-savvy bore is still a bore.

Apologies. Had a long day…

Lelaina: Can you define irony?
Troy: Its when the actual meaning is the complete opposite from the literal meaning.
Lelaina: My God, where were you when I needed you today?


Location: 40 mins ago, my old office, shredding
Mood: hungry
Music: along sheeps meadow Never know what we will see. Come take a walk with me


…then back to cleaning the cellar

Night street performers in St. Marks, NYC

Her: We have leftovers. Do you want some?
Me: Yeah. I sorta do.

Someone asked what to do in the city when you’re visiting. Won’t give you advice. But I’ll just be more descriptive this week about my haunts, ok?

Spent the weekend trying to clean out my cellar and not be sick. Fail on both counts.

Lived in my same apartment for over a decade. Put it this way, 10+ of the women I dated last year were 11 years old when I moved in.

Found long forgotten things: postcards, letters, tapes, cds, class notes. Goes on. Another entry, I suppose.

Managed to cut out one night to meet up with my brother, WM and Paul at a bar downtown where I ran into Sckim. Stumbled over to Heartgirl’s later on that night. Then back to cleaning the cellar.

Next nights, saw them all again for dinner at John’s Pizza. Best pizza in the city that you can get a in former cathedral off Times Square. Best. Then back to cleaning the cellar.

Next night, duck out to stop by Paul’s. Although I had a full dinner, they had Thai leftovers that smelled great, so I inhaled those too. Afterward, went to Solas, my regular hangout. Then back to cleaning the cellar.

Didn’t have time to see my mom for mother’s day but did see my brother before he left. We walked past a street fair with Paul to St. Marks for some 2 Brothers Pizza, which is the best tasty pizza in the city for $1 a slice. Because it’s so cheap, the stuff is amazingly fresh. Five minutes after a pie is out, it’s sliced up and consumed.

We also went to Mamouns for a falafel. Then we went to BBQ Chicken for some chicken and fries. Then we went back to 2 Brother’s Pizza for more pizza. All within 30 minutes.

75% of the meals my bro eats when he visits is pizza cause the pizza in Cali’s not the same.

He’s probably landing in LA right about now. Me? Just spilled some rum all over my desk. Suppose I should clean that up.

Then back to cleaning the cellar.

Street fair on 8th Street and Broadway, NYC

Location: 17:00, meeting my attorney
Mood: still #$!$#! sick
Music: breathe some life into me


Taking the Fall

Location: 12 hours ago, getting choked on 27th
Mood: bruised
Music: Maybe the only choice we’ve ever got is how to take the fall

Chinatown in NYC

My weekend started off just terrible but it improved greatly.

Said it so many times before, all of life’s problems can be divided up into health, wealth and relationships. Y’just need one of those to be off-kilter to be bent outta shape. Well, my weekend started with all three undone. Guess all three had to do with disappointments.

What do you think is worse? Hoping and being disappointed or never hoping at all? I always go back and forth on that one.

But saw my blue sky and my girl so it got better. Plus baked a pan of lasagna and how bad can life really be with a fresh, hot pan of lasagna?

This week, gonna be 1/3 of the way through to getting my mouth repaired. And I’m trying to land this client. So maybe I can get the other two straightened out.

Even if I don’t, suppose the trying is worth something. Heartgirl doesn’t think I’m optimistic but I think I am. I’m, thankfully, stupid like that.

Me: Hey, let’s look at apartments we can’t afford.
Her: It’s always good to dash dreams on a beautiful Sunday afternoon.

Me: So we’re in agreement then.

A pan of homemade lasagna

YASYCTAI: See some open houses this weekend. Just cause it’s nice to dream. (120 mins/1 pts)



Sunset over Hobboken

Caribbean beach

It’s 20090125. My vacation’s over. Got some rest. Happy Chinese New Year.

Chicken crossing the road in the Caribbean

It’s 20090124. Pulled into port early. Too tired and dead to walk so I hop a cab to my pad with enough rum to supply a navy. It’s 22 degrees. Water Harold. Say Hi to George. They’re silent but I think they missed me. 212 emails. Damn email. Wrestle. Stumble to a party at Gio’s where I meet a 22 year old French girl. No lie, ask Paul. But I’ve the girlie I want most so smile politely and stumble home. Just before I go, see a buddy get her digits. Someone’s always playing the game.

It’s 20090122/23. Spend two days at sea. Which sounds like a chore but there’s this German saying that goes, Gutes Gespraech kuerzt den Weg. Season 1 of Dexter doesn’t hurt either.

Chicken crossing the road in the Caribbean

It’s 20090121. Arrive in Tortola. It’s 84 degrees. Not much to see so after 45 minutes, walk back. Another day, another sandy beach, but learned why the chicken crossed the road, and almost bought this. Didn’t. Got some sun on a deck before we headed home. Over dinner, Heartgirl and I discuss religion. Wanted to tell her that Blaise Pascal once said that Men never do evil so completely and cheerfully as when they do it from religious conviction. Didn’t get the chance. But it’s true and a good quote, so I’m telling you.

Piña colada and Rum Punch in the Caribbean

It’s 20090120. Arrive in St. Martin to go SNUBA-ing. Didn’t cause the diver said visibility sucked; cool dude – most guys woulda taken our dough and taken us for a ride. So we had three rum drinks, a Clara and an argument instead. No little umbrellas, though. Crashed the Hilton beach by the sea where I got crashed into some rocks by the sea.

It’s 20090118. Arrive in Antigua. Not much to see, so after 15 minutes, walk back. If I ever did drugs, this would be my place. But I don’t; I do rum. Note to self: See a rum factory. Another day, another sandy beach. Got a new camera a while ago. Sorry. Meant to introduce her: Clara. Learned to play 500 Rummy and taught Heartgirl how to play ChoDaiDi.

NCL Gem in St. Thomas Caribbean

It’s 20090117. Arrive in St. Thomas. It’s 76 degrees. The waters are a blue that you can only imagine. They’ve mobile service there so I ring up my brother who’s trying to figure out his love life. Someone’s always playing the game. 37 emails. Damn email. Sit by the salty sea and watch the elusive NJ Hoochie Mama perform her mating dance. The target NJ Guido isn’t impressed and takes flight.

It’s 20090115/16. Spend two days at sea. We wake up every morning at 6AM, have breakfast (carbs), work out, and eat a second breakfast (protein). There’s this saying that goes: Good conversation shortens the travel. Sounds better in German. Found out today that, round where we left yesterday, a pilot landed a plane on the water. Good. NYC deserves some win.

Deck of the cruise ship leaving the UWS docks

It’s 20090114. Water Harold. Say Bye to George. They’re silent but I think they’ll miss me. Zero out my emails. Damn email. Too awake and alive to take a cab so I walk to the docks on the UWS with my bags in tow, dreaming of rum drinks with little umbrellas. It’s 17 degrees.

It’s 20090113. My vacation begins tomorrow. Hope I get some rest.

Location: the rents for the holiday
Mood: ready
Music: My city or mountains Stay with me


The California Sun

Location: Santa Monica in my head
Mood: tired but hopeful
Music: something always comes up something always makes her stay

Me and my Mom
Her: You’re always seeing someone.
Me: No, I mean I’m seeing someone…
Her: (puts down hula hoop) Wait, what does that mean? (excitedly) Are you getting married soon? Is she nice? Does she want kids? What’s her name?
Me: (sighs) Clearly, I’ve just made a grave error in judgment.

Me and my Brother
Him: When I left NYC for LA, I had two suitcases and a guitar. Then when I left LA for Miami, had a house fulla crap, a cat, and a wife.
Me: And now that you’re moving back to LA?
Him: Well (thinking) I still have a house fulla crap and the cat (pause) But I’ve since shed the wife tho…

The cool thing about the people that you’re close to is the shorthand language you’ve got.

My brother used to sing in a bar while in med school. One song was about this singer in a bar that loved a waitress named Rachel who wanted to move to LA. The guy didn’t know what to say, so he just said, if you find me one, I’d love a picture of the California sun.

For years my bro said he’d move to LA. Always joked that if he ever did, I’d want a postcard from LA. Then one day he just up and left with two suitcases and a guitar. Spur of the moment thing. Poof.

Week or so later, got a postcard with a picture of the California sun and not much else. Didn’t need much else. I remember that I sat down on my striped sofa and cleared my throat. Then I cleared a place for it on my fridge.

Somewhere through the years, lost it. Stupid roommates.

S’ok though – lookee what I got today:

YASYCTAI: Send someone a nice picture. If y’got time, send me one too. (1 mins/0.5 pts)