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personal

Eponine

We are all we know

The subway’s never empty. Unless you’re an insomniac. Then they’re empty a hellva lot.

———-

Thought about some of the people I’ve met recently and in the not-so-distant past. For some strange reason, I also thought of a girl I dated once. It’s the fall.

Part of the reason I think I liked her was because she said that every person that ever went out with her treated her like crap (I’m weird like that). When she told me that, I thought of Eponine from Les Mis.

The book’s a little different from the musical. In the book, there’s this one scene where she’s tossed a stale piece of bread. Starving, she pounces on it like a crazed animal. The hard bread hurts her teeth but she says that she knows the bread is good because it’s hard.

See, Eponine has no concept that there’s such a thing as bread that’s not rotten and not hard. It’s all she knows.

Tried to treat the ex nicely – never did find out if she she thought I did. Random, right?

As for me, well, my friends think I’m lucky because so many people enter and exit my Venn Diagram.

I’m not sure. You see, it’s all I know…

Location: 20:30, getting caught in some rain in Bayside
Mood: exhausted
Music: through the clouds Memories come rushing up to meet me now

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personal

Oh mercy, mercy me

What if we’re on the wrong side?

Cain (a captain in the army): My favorite is: Do you want a little captain in you? (wiggles eyebrows)
Her: (thinking then laughing) Ewwwww.
Me: OK, back to me. Basically I think the only people I can date right now are lawyers and tourists.
Her: Ah, you want someone who has no time for you or is gone.
Me: (nodding) I can’t think of anything else right now. That’s why I’m the third wheel here tonight.

———-

Wish I had something cool to tell you but I spent the day in an office. So…no. I’ve got nothing to report.

OK, I did drink my night away with Cain and a new friend, who’s a litigator and my favorite waitress in the world. Was too hammered to tell them this joke but I’ve sobered up somewhat so here goes:

There’re these two Christians that’re thrown to the these starving lions. One guy says to the other, “Fear not, the good Lord will be merciful to us.”

To which the other dude goes, “How do you know the good Lord won’t be merciful to the lions?

That’s pretty much how I feel right now.

Location: 11:00 yest, on the phone asking for a favor
Mood: sotted
Music: where did all the blue sky go?

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personal

Venn Diagrams

People enter and leave our lives like Venn Diagrams

Was talking to GES this past Sunday about Venn Diagrams.

You see, people walk around the world like 3D Venn Diagrams: we’re all in our own little worlds. Strangers, friends, family, lovers, acquaintances – all, for better or for worse, enter into your little world, do their little bit, and then leave.

Some people stay, some go. Sometimes they do something nice. Sometimes they rob you blind and leave you wondering if there’s someplace you could sell a kidney and how much you could get for it.

And sometimes they write you tell you everything’s gonna be alright.

Thanks for that last one.

Now…does anyone know the going rate on a kidney?

———-

Here’s Fiest again (with members of the National, more on that tomorrow), playing a guitar and reminding me of those teenage hopes.

Location: 16:45 yest, the 66th St. Post Office, waiting
Mood: grateful
Music: Sleepless long nights That was what my youth was for

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personal

Not enough time, Pt II

Men live on average 26,280 days

 

Yesterday, I was out with Nadi and we were drinking until 3AM. The waitress, Heidi, comped us two pitchers of beer. Today, I went back with two other friends and pounded another three pitchers.

Told the girl I was with that prior to 2006, I only ever kissed seven girls. She seemed to not believe me.

But it’s true.

———-

More fun with math – new numbers for US life expectancy:

  • US citizens live, on average, 77.9 years.
  • Women in the US live for 79.10 years.
  • Men get their ticket punched earlier at 72.2 years.

To put this into better perspective:

  • Women live for 28,871 days
  • Men live for 26,280 days.

Been kicking here for roughly 12,500 days.

In other words, I’m about halfway there to finding out if God’s there or not. If I find out, I’ll try and email you. Maybe less. Maybe more. I guess it’ll depend on how much sleep I get and how accident-prone I’m gonna be.

Regardless, it’s so damn short, isn’t it?

You and I, man, we can’t sit around waiting for our real lives to begin. The race is long, yes but not long enough.

Never long enough.

Location: 12AM, 72nd Street, asking her how her week was
Mood: contemplative
Music: And I was lost for words In your arms

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What has Life told you?

Got a call from a girl who asked me an interesting question

 

Me: I dunno, I’ve been out a lot this week, I shouldn’t.
Nadi: Blue-eyed Lawyergirl is gonna be there. Although you are NOT permitted to make a pass at her.
Me: First of all, I’ve got my hands full. Then again, why not? That’s half the fun right there – for all involved parties.
Nadi: It’s open ba…
Me: I’m in.

Was thinking of a girl with curls when my email box went ding.

Berlingirl wrote me and asked the most random but sweet thing: Hope you had a lovely day today! What has Life told you?

Thought that was such an interesting question.

So I stayed in tonight to listen. Life didn’t say anything to me though.

I’ll sit by the phone and wait anyway. Just in case.

Don’t wanna miss that call.

Location: living room, black chair
Mood: waiting
Music: where ever you go I always know
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This version of me

Sometimes think that I’ve become the very, very worst version of myself.

I’ve resolved my business issues but it’s a sad disappointment to discover you’re not quite as noble as you imagined you’d be.

So I met up with Hazel, Paul and Bryson and drank what was left of my self-respect.

Because of my insomnia, I grew up watching black & white films at 2AM. Jimmy Stewart was my favorite. Mr. Smith Goes to Washington, The Philadelphia Story, It’s a Wonderful Life, etc.

Do you ever wake up and wonder what happened to all your youth and idealism?

Sometimes think that I’ve become the very, very worst version of myself.

Location: 11PM yest, asking for one more on the UWS
Mood: sotted
Music: Here’s coming a better version of me
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This time around

 

Camera Obscura in concert at the South Street Seaport

 

Camera Obscura – the drummer was smoking like a chimney.

Baltimore was nice. Coming home was nicer. This time around, there was silverware. Sorta.

Was in the Baltimore Penn Station and I remembered being there a year ago asking my brother what I should do when I got home. He reminded me of something:

You’re 33. How can someone that you’ve been with for four years define you? What’d you do before her?

Told him the same thing once before.

I’m troubled again, but this time, for totally different reasons.

Was going to make a peanut butter and marmalade sandwich but instead had a rendezvous with a single-barrel, seven-year rum. No oranges.

This week is going to be very unpleasant but I just told someone here that life has it’s highs and lows. Life’s like that.

I’m ready for some more highs.

Camera Obscura in concert at the South Street Seaport

Location: 9PM yest, Freehold NJ, hearing a sad story
Mood: troubled
Music: I’m a stupid little thing

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Fallen Summer

I got my pad, my people and my poison. Someday, maybe my person too.

You are not superior just because you see the world in an odious light.

My friend Jaerik made an interesting observation on my blog that I don’t think I’ve ever noticed myself.

He said that I rarely do angry blog entries. Never thought of that.

I think people do angry on the internet because it’s easy and makes for pseudo-intellect. Sure there’s lots to be pissed about; life is inherently unfair.

But man, that’s the quickest way to a bitter, solitary life.

This blog is mostly about my love life because, well, I got nuthin else to complain about.

Not really.

I got my pad. I got my people. I got my poison. I just picked up a new whip to replace my old ride. Another 300 payments and it’s all mine.

Figure someday I’ll get the girl too. Someday.

For now, I’ll take the fall weather we’re having in summer here in NYC.

Speaking of which, I met this girl at Bryant Park tonight…

Location: in front of a pile of books again
Mood: content
Music: God gave me everything

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Sold I to the merchant ships

I consider our origins

Well I’ve gotten some…colorful emails based on my last post.

While both men and women read a lot more into it than intended, both seemed to disappointed in me for completely different reasons.

Primo Levi wrote in Survival in Auschwitz, that he carried a 100 pound soup pot because it gave him a few moments in the sun.

A guard gave him the gig for Italian lessons. So Levi taught him Dantes Inferno 26, which has the line, Considerate la vostra semenza: fatti non foste a viver come bruti, ma per seguir virtute e canoscenza.

Consider your origin; you were not born to live like brutes, but to follow virtue and knowledge.

Look, we’re human. We’re flawed. But we try. It’s our redemption song.

Dante and Levi both believed that we have some nobility somewhere – even after seeing their respective hells, yeah?

Location: 2PM yest, watching a rooster in Harlem
Mood: amused
Music: someday we’ll walk in the rays of a beautiful sun

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Nighthawks

Edward Hopper’s painting is still relevant even now

 

There were about 7.3 million people here in NYC in 1990. Now we’re at over 8.2 million – essentially double that of LA with about 14% more adult females than adult males.

That’s a lotta people.

Funny thing is, the names and faces change, but the people are always the same.

The painting above is of the Village in ’42, just after Pearl Harbor.

You got the counterman and the nighthawks – the people out on the hunt for something, someone. The counterman’s looking out. He’s probably got a family, so he wants to go. The nighthawks?

They got no one. They’re in no rush.

But look close. There’s no door; no windows that open. They’re on display. It’s all justa show.

And the guys? It’s the same guy. A copy of a copy.

I had some stories of the weekend but I told them to you already.

Nighthawks all got the same story; millions of people but few connections.

Yeah, we’re all here in the same place, the same joint.

But in 8.2 million different worlds.

Location: 4PM yest, Columbus Circle meeting someone
Mood: relieved
Music: Kennedy and Monroe come to see my rock show
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