Tag: troubles

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personal

You are a soul

You can’t sell your soul, you are a soul

Me: I’m sorry, come again? How old’re you?
Her: 18.
Me: (turning to WM) Yeah, I’m leaving.

Spent Friday out with Gio and WM around the UES. Not my scene.

Saturday morning, spoke with Heartgirl; that’s a post for some other time. Saturday night, saw PCD. She did NOT heed my advice and was hung over so we spent a very nice quiet night in the UWS.

Unfortunately, while writing this, I just found out that my grandma’s in the hospital. Was supposed to see her when that woman stole all my money.

You know when someone talks about selling your soul, or whatnot? That irritates me. Cause you’re not a body with a soul. You are a soul. You just happen to have a body.

My grandmother is no dainty grandma; she’s tougher than DeNiro and smokes more than he does.

But her body is betraying her and there’s nuthin I can do about it. She gave me my eyes.

I wanna hit something.

Location: in front of three computers
Mood: worried
Music: No need to say goodbye You’ll come back
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personal

Oh…cm’on!

Location: My office, wishing I were outside
Mood: wistful
Music: Our hands are covered in cake But I swear we didn’t have any

Seriously, someone somewhere really just hates me. Hates me.

Realized as I went through records that I may be the oldest person in my entire condo building.

Still, although it’s served with a big slice of lemon, at least my blue sky’s back.

———-

Heartgirl dropped me a line recently. Isn’t weird how the more you don’t want to think about someone, the more you do?

HEI’s going through some rough times but I told her that rough times are when you find out what you’re made of. Rough times cut away the fat of your life to see the muscle underneath. On a related note, while we’re both attracted to each other, we’re solidly in friends camp for our own reasons. Hopefully we stay in each other’s Venn Diagram.

BEG is off on vacation so I don’t think I’ll be seeing her any time soon.

Finally, PCD and I saw each other recently. In addition to being a cake decorator, she also has an anthropology degree so we’ve some interesting conversations.

Her: Today I made an onion – tomorrow I’m making asparagus.
Me: (laughing) You’re so non sequitur.

Her: I’m totally sequitur!

Me: It’s ok, I like non-sequitur.

Her: So one physical marker of an Asian is the shovel shaped incisors – the insides of your incisors are scooped.

Me: (feeling the inside of my teeth with my tongue) Well, look at that. (pause) Cm’re, lemme check out yours – for purely scientific purposes, I assure you…


Categories
personal

Doing it for the Crackers

There’s always something waiting around the corner

copyleft Wikipedia

Remember that deal that Sheridan wanted to know if I wanted in on? He closed it with RE Mike and it was just reported in the NY Post. I’m super happy for him but…damn, damn, damn, damn, damn.

It’s the third deal that Sheridian and I didn’t do together. The first, I made bank but he missed; the second we both missed. This one? $15.85 million. Damn, damn, damn, damn, damn.

Hate being this poor. Hate always worrying about scratch. Was about to have a pity party when I read that Ruslana Korshunova jumped outta her Manhattan building in a suicide. Stopped me cold. She was wealthy, beautiful, successful…and 20.

What troubles would be so big at 20 that you’d swan dive off a 9th floor building when, externally, you got it all? I dunno. Hate suicide stories.

Something’s always waiting round the corner. True, sometimes it’s fail, but sometimes it’s win. Regardless, you hope and you hope. Cause, statistically speaking, 10 outta 10 of us are gonna get our tickets punched – so why’d you ever wanna rush the matter? It’ll come sooner than you know it.

Admittedly, it’s hard to go from caviar and crackers to just crackers. But really, I got no complaints; don’t have enough fingers to count all my blessings.

Plus, when a girlie says she wants to spend some time these days, I’m (fairly) confident she does it for the company.

I mean, she’s certainly not doing it for the crackers, yeah?

800.SUICIDE / 800.784.2433

(c) PostSecret

Location: 21:44 yest, getting whacked w/a stick in the UWS
Mood: sad
Music: and it breaks my heart, it breaks my heart

Categories
personal

No troubles

Met a girlie last week.

Her: I think I have you beat.
Me: I doubt that.
Her: (deep breath) Well, when I was in high school, my prom date raped me, got me pregnant, and, causa my dad, I got married causa it. Then I had a miscarriage so I was a divorcee before I went to college. He divorced me – can you believe that? Moved here, became a model. Now I throw up at least once a day so I can pay my rent and I hate, hate, hate men of every type. Can you beat that?
Me: (shaking head, pause, lean in and give her a kiss on the cheek)
Her: Why did you do that?
Me: I dunno…thought you deserved it. (she laughed, then frowned and nodded)

Didn’t give her my number or ask for her’s, and paid for her drink, which I never do.

There’s this comedian that says that children are a man’s receipt; children are the canceled check that proves that we were here.

The stuff you hear about happening in China is horrifying, isn’t it? 22,000 to 50,000 dead with 169,000 injured. But it’s actually even worse than that. With the PRC’s One Child Policy, bloodlines and family lose everything. For those that lose their one child and they’re too old to have kids again, they’ve no safety net to take care of them in their old age. Their history ends with them; they’ve no connection to the future. They’ve no child to love. Can’t imagine how that must feel.

My father once said that he loved us all before we were born. That didn’t make sense back then.

I’m getting sued (again). I’m working 12 hour days for negative returns. There’s stuff I don’t tell you about. But really, I got no problems. I got my life, my family, my rum, and the occasional girlie for company.

It’s raining here, but in my head, there’re blue skies. Told you before, yeah? God gave me everything.

Hope you have an amazing weekend.

Location: in my office, looking at the rain and thinking
Mood: grateful
Music: Won’t you miss me?

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

More Spring

Location: in my jammies, working from home
Mood: hopeful
Music: It’s alright, baby’s coming back (make it easy on yourself)

Her: How can I help you?

Me: What’s the biggest burger you have?

Her: Um…I guess the triple Whopper with cheese.

Me: Huh. Can you add another patty on and I’ll pay for that?

Her: You want a quadruple whopper? We don’t…I don’t have a button for that. I could charge you for another Whopper and you could stack that on top.

Me: Well that’s just silly. The triple Whopper is $5 and the regular is $3:50. How about this, why don’t you throw on two chicken patties and I’ll pay for that.

Her: OK, so you want a Triple Whopper with Cheese and two Chicken sandwiches but just the meat stuffed into the Triple Whopper.

Me: Yes…and a diet coke.

Her: (bursts out laughing) I take it you didn’t have breakfast.

Me: Oh no, I did. (pause) Why?

My birthday’s coming up. You should all chip in and buy me a defibrillator.

On a positive note, may be close to settling with the IRS. Still need to come up with some coin but nothing near the $25,674 they initially said. Wanna see it in writing before I’ll believe it.

Could use some win.

Getting hit on a lot again – don’t think it’s so much me as because it’s spring. If not for spring, I think there’d be a lot more single people in the big city.

Categories
personal

Easter Weekend 2008

The time where I meet a sexologist

 

Won’t be posting much this week. Getting audited. I’ve got 24 days to come up with $25,674. I really dunno how much more pressure a man can take.

Life’s…stressful.

Friday I saw Hazel and her pretty friend, Helen. We chatted about life and love out in the wilds of Long Island. Then I drove them home. The weekend was off to a good start.

Until the letter above came in Saturday morning. Gio rang me and said we had to go out to a party in the Upper East Side. A party in UES’s like a party in the wilds of Long Island. But I went anyway.

Glad I did. I met a beautiful Sexologist who refused to kiss me.

Her: You have to work for it.
Me: (laughing) Fair enough.

Of course, she was 23. Not a pescatarian and not from NJ, though – Philly. We called it a night at 4AM and she told me to look her up when I was in her part of the world.

Me: If I go, can we get a cheesesteak?
Her: Cheesesteak’s a must.

Rolled out of bed a few hours later and worked non-stop. Paul and Hazel wanted to buy me brunch and Rain wanted to shoot me dough but charity and pity ain’t my thing. Rum’s my thing.

Stopped so I could make church on time at at 16:30; stayed until 19:45. Was walking home when I ran into lovely Jenny. Coffee and conversation? I asked. She nodded and we went to a bookstore where I told her about my life. And she told me about her’s.

She said her dramas seemed small compared to mine. I shook my head. Heartache doesn’t work that that way – there’re no absolute values of pain. Anyway…let’s actually plan to do this again instead of leaving it to chance, I said. She laughed and we left.

Hopping into my whip, I raced across the city see the woman I love most in the world. When I arrived, she beamed and gave me a huge hug.

Her: How was your Easter weekend?
Me: Could have been better, mom. Could have been better.

Gave her a kiss on the cheek and went downstairs where I sat by my lonesome. Took a deep breath, bowed my head, and asked for some grace and mercy. I ate, washed and took some poison to sleep. Could have been better but could have been worse, I guess.

I told you, yeah? There’s always more room for down.

Location: on a new leather couch that’s not mine
Mood: so very tired
Music: pressure pressure pressure AAAAAAAhhh…pressure pressure pressure

Categories
personal

Postcards and Peanut Butter

Location: 9:00 yest, the subway platform, waiting
Mood: yep, still sick
Music: I’ll get over you, I know I will

I think Life’s talking to me again. The Grey-Eyed Girl and Berlingirl told me I should listen. I’m trying.

I blog less these days so it doesn’t become a daily bitch-fest (Let’s see what minor disaster befell Logan today).

From 1994 to 2001, I pretty much disappeared. I made a sick amount of money, worked out constantly, traveled everywhere and wrote like you couldn’t believe – like Ted Kaczynski on crack. Somewhere between page 1 and 972, I squeezed in law school, a fairly successful nightclub business, a few published works and 3.5 relationships.

Through it all, my family was there, but I expected that. But I was a bit surprised that my friends always were too. There’s this old joke that you have friends because you can’t pick your family. I can see that.

I bring this all up because some college buddies called me outta blue last week to check up on me. Bryson also stopped by last night to buy me dinner. And The Laura, Betts, someone that doesn’t want to be mentioned and Daiseefut all recently sent me postcards.

Plus, my church was talking about Job again, the ‘rents are strangely insightful and I’m having these deep philosophical discussions in the weirdest joints. Odder still, two people I’ve not seen in at least 14 years randomly reached out to me; one today when I was eating my dinner of peanut butter outta the jar with a metal spoon. I was so surprised, I dropped the spoon.

So yeah, I think Life’s telling me something and, like I said, I’m trying to listen.

I’m trying awfully hard.

Categories
personal

You don’t have

The Doc said I don’t have cancer

Doctor: You don’t have cancer. It’s a cyst, non-cancerous and it won’t become cancerous
Me: (sighing with relief) You have no idea how good it is to hear that.
Doctor: (laughing) I have some idea. Wear a cup when you work out and briefs in general.
Me: Who knew that I could have taken away somea this recent stress by wearing tighty-whities?

I almost wept when he said I didn’t have cancer. No lie. Score one for me. The only person I told in the whole world besides the docs was my brother. Secrets are lonely things.

For the male readers of this blog, you should know that: Although rare, testicular cancer is the most common form of cancer in men between the ages of 20 and 34.2. Take that under advisement.

It only took five visits, three months, three doctors, three urine tests, two blood tests and one ultra-sound to find out. To celebrate, I made myself a burger on whole wheat. No ketchup, mayo.

I’m sick with a cold but that I can handle. Sorry for the scare; I was up all night worrying.

Crazy right? Just madness…

Location: 7:20, sitting next to a pretty girl
Mood: sick
Music: All my friends say that of course it’s gonna get better

Categories
personal

Bit Player

Talking with my mom about the situation.

Her: Are you worried?
Me: (nodding) Yes.
Her: Don’t be scared. Are you scared?
Me: (nodding) Yes.
Her: But you’re gonna be alright, right?
Me: (lying) Yes.
Her: (satisfied) God will take care of you.

Here’s my fear. What if I’m the bit player?

Take the story of Job. The story is that he suffered, but through his suffering, he lived the remainder of his life in happiness. So it worked out, in the end, somehow for him.

But one of the reasons he suffered was because his kids all died. They were the bit players in Job’s story. It didn’t work out for them at all. We don’t even know their names or anything about them. Nothing.

Maybe my rotten luck is just for the benefit of some greater thing. I dunno. I’m going to the doctor for the fifth time tomorrow for something I’ve not mentioned yet because…my life’s already so insane.

I keep wondering if it’s the lions’ turn to win.

The worst part of it all is that my mom’s so worried already. I can’t tell you how that makes me feel.

Location: 20:00 yest, leaving office hating life
Mood: indescribable
Music: On silver stars I wish and wish and wish (Spotify)