Thursday, April 27, 2006
Tuesday, April 25, 2006
It amazes me that after almost ten years it still isn't real to me that my mother is going to die.
She has been trapped inside a healthy body, a deteriorating mind catching only glimpses of the past - less and less every day. Her cognizance of her surroundings is almost nill now. I used to be able to get her to look me in the eye and we would have a moment where I could see a spark. A smile would spread out over her face and she would make a noise - sort of like a laugh and an assuring grunt at the same time.
She isn't eating anymore and is losing weight. They're having her evaluated for hospice. It's the beginning of the end. And it still isn't real.
Monday, April 24, 2006
Pardonez moi, s'il vous plait
Sunday, April 23, 2006
I like it when I'm wrong...
I don't do rainy days. I don't like early mornings and I don't enjoy being wet and cold unless I'm in a tub of gelatin or mud or chocolate pudding. So I figured I'd just volunteered to be a miserable cow all day.
Surprisingly I had, what I'd like to think was, a very Zen-like day.
When I woke up it was dark and pouring rain. I dragged my ass out of bed in my efforts to maintain some sense of discipline, a trait I am not known for. I ate my toast which I barely tasted and somehow found myself at the train station.
The N(ever)showed up 15-20 minutes later and I was on my way.
I was worried that there'd be throngs of people who also hadn't picked up their chips and bibs and I'd get stuck at the end of the line.
I needn't have worried.
I walked right up, picked up my stuff and found myself with an hour to spare and the rain coming down harder than ever. About 9:45 I was good and soaked so I took off my wet sweatshirt and track pants and got ready to run.
I ran my own race and I knew Tony would have been proud. It was his advice mantra last night before he left and I followed it. I kept my own pace and watched more than a few people making mistakes I'd made last year. I finished in the forty-fifth percentile and ran about 10 minute 30 second miles. Not great - but I was running 12 minute miles up until a few months ago so I'm proud of myself.
My good friends Michael and Melaina are much faster but invited my friend Maureen and I to meet them back at their place afterward. When we arrived we got hot showers and warm dry clothes (all my dry clothes were in a bag that wound up in a "stream" in the baggage area.) Then we all went out for a tasty brunch and some mimosas at Beach.
My belly full, I took my old train, the F (for filthy) and dropped by HiTech Auto to see Sadiq. He said I'd need to tow it which is exactly what I was hoping he wouldn't say. I walked about a half a mile, got in the car and...she started. Hooray! Rather than be a meathead (my natural inclination) I drove right back to the garage and left Fiona in capable hands (she'll be needing a new alternator though).
A little siesta on the couch was followed by a screening of Walk The Line and then I made banana bread. I forgot how much I love it when the smell fills the house. I've just taken it out of the oven and put a pot of coffee on as the Big Gay Husband is on his way over to chat. Hopefully he'll have good news in the romance department - he texted me last evening to let me know "there was flirting" going on.
I hate to report such a healthy and calm day when my life has been filled with so much madness and abuse ... but I am pleased to say I am very content.
Saturday, April 22, 2006
rainy day blues
today was a lazy, gray, rainy day and i didn't accomplish much more than stranding my poor car at 21st and broadway.
i ventured out to get my friend tony and we made it to within a half mile of my apartment. the battery light was lit from the time i started the car and i kept losing power as i went.
a very sweet e.m.t., Carlos Lopez helped tony push my car to the side of the road and then gave us a ride home.
so, tomorrow, my good muslim mechanic friends will help unburden my wallet of my recently deposited tax return.
but first, i'll run in the adidas run for the parks. it's a 4 mile race in central park. after which i'll attend the latest installment of the big gay brunch. The evite reads: The Totally Fabulous Big Gay Nelly and Ladies of the Night Alliance presents... You've Gotta Have Pride Girl.
okay, so we aren't big on brevity.
after a few cocktails and chatter about cocks i'll head over to see sadiq and tend to my dear fiona. if time permits, i'll engage in the ancient torture of laundry.
i know, i know - you're riveted by my fascinating, jet set life.
Friday, April 21, 2006
Afterward, we made our way over to Robert Emmett's for a pint (or four). My BGH and I were tripping the light fantastic until 3am. This may not seem like a big deal for some but I've been keeping my "school night" extra curricular activities to a minimum cause I just don't bounce back like I used to! (so sad)
After I arrived at my humble little abode, I found Miss Kelson crashed on my couch. Further inquiry determined that the evil department of Transportation of the City of NY had towed Miss GiGi (the vehicle's given name). There will be more on this later.
So it was off to Yonkers at 3am to deliver my friend to her dog whose bladder was most likely, fully expanded at that point. I arrived back at my place around 4:30 and was crashed out by 5. Needless to say, my head was bobbing over my keyboard for most of the day as I tried not to get busted dozing by the security cameras.
My BGH was supposed to snap a few pictures but we were overwhelmed by our legions of fans!
I also learned a valuable lesson - 2 shots of espresso with cream should not be topped off with bourbon.
Wednesday, April 19, 2006
I must admit I'm starting to get a little nervous/nauseous. We had a final dress last night and though my BGH said it went well, I still feel like it can be better.
Some of my concerns are silly - it's a piece we put together a few weeks ago yet I want it to be more refined and memorized! I also worry that I'm not delving deep enough - that I'm not doing my mother justice.
Another thing Rob and I have discussed are my concerns about doing a one woman show based on my own life. Granted the timeline is somewhat skewed and some of the details are fiction (that was my James Frey disclaimer) but it's pretty much me... So my question is, when you're playing yourself does it count as acting?
I'll be coming back at ya tomorrow with photos and thoughts about how things go tonight. If anyone wants to make it I think there are a few seats left - 311 West 43rd Street between 8th and 9th at 9pm.
Monday, April 17, 2006
Take a guess...
Seriously, what the fuck happened to Star Jones? She scares me now. She's like a horrifying little, drag queen, bobblehead, troll doll. It looks like she's having trouble holding that dam thing up.
The frustrating thing is that I cannot find any skinny Star head photos using google or msn. I just found lots of pictures where Star's head is actually proportionate to her body. Alas...
A few quick phonecalls around the office revealed these random guesses at the weight of Star Jones' head.
Eben - 67lbs
Susan - 25 lbs.
Kerry - 30lbs.
For my guess, I'm going to say 42lbs and 6 oz.
Next thing you know she'll hire someone to help her hold her head up (and it will have advertising on the side for whoever is paying to have Star's head held up.)
Saturday, April 15, 2006
I'll show you a hissy!
As I told the couple on the train the other night who apologized to me for what I overheard, "Nothing phases me much anymore."** However, I hadn't seen this most disturbing and ridiculous trend.
In the NY Post yesterday there was a story about a new LIVE fashion accessory, the roach brooch.
The giant Madagascar hissing cockroach, which is about three inches long and actually does hiss, is partially covered in brightly colored Swarovski crystals, which are glued to its hard outer shell.
It also sports a small clasp that attaches to a silver chain, the other end of which is a cameo pin - reminiscent of the bizarre Victorian-era trend of wearing live insects as jewelry.
What could be classier than having dinner with friends as they watch this little fella parade up and down your shoulders, hissing and shitting? Not only entertaining but so sanitary!
Personally, I have some serious issues with roaches and the bigger they get the more skeeved out I am. Throwing a few Swarovski crystals on it isn't going to keep me from screeching like a little girl when the damn thing is ON me! Now, for the record, I'm not really a girlie girl - especially not with bugs or rodents. The roach, however is an exception. I can feel my skin crawl when I see one. I can hear the crunch sound burned into my cerebral cortex from every previous roach encounter I've had. Roaches bring out in me a cruelty I wouldn't show any other creature. And yet, I find this just too disturbing.
The hissing bejeweled roach arrives at your home in a box (where it can live without food or water for 4 days - a requirement I have for all my jewlery). After you've bonded with your pet roach adornment, you hook him on to his litle leash and impress and amaze your friends. You may want to let him down from your shoulders every once in a while though as roaches are susceptible to dehydration. (It's really the only thing that will kill these prolific fuckers.)
Roach or not, this is no life for any living creature.
Can the MTA Rat Hat be far behind?
**The funny part is that I actually didn't hear anything. The guy smiled at me and I smiled back. He assumed I'd heard whatever he said to his chica. After I spoke, he said... "That's because you're a New Yorker".
Tuesday, April 11, 2006
Take me out...
Hip hip hooray! It's Opening Day!
I have a number of opinions about some things going on in baseball right now but we won't get into that. I have serious (and obvious) concerns about our pitching but I say a prayer for the bats of the boys in pinstripes.
I was fortunate to go to Opening Day last year but no such luck this time out. My absence during the week of Passover would leave the desk unmanned and cause chaos to ensue.
I look forward though, to (several) super cold, over-priced beers and a hot dog in the sixth.
New York Yankees Postgame Alert
April 11, 2006
Kansas City 7, N.Y. Yankees 9 at Yankee Stadium
N.Y. Yankees Record: (3-4)
Winning pitcher - Scott Proctor (1-1)
Losing pitcher - Andrew Sisco (0-1)
SV - Mariano Rivera (1)
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 R H E
Kansas City 0 1 0 3 0 1 2 0 0 7 12 0
N.Y. Yankees 3 0 1 0 0 0 0 5 X 9 8 0
KC HR - S. Costa (2) R. Sanders (2)
NYY HR - J. Giambi (1) D. Jeter (2)
Next N.Y. Yankees Game: Apr 12, 2006 01:05 PM ET vs. Kansas City Royals
Saturday, April 08, 2006
Pick your poison...
Adrenaline is an amazing and powerful drug. Last night while driving,I became distracted trying to time how many miles I was actually traveling every ten minutes (allowing for people in the way, varying speeds etc.)when suddenly I realized I was headed right into the side of a hill. As I swerved back into the right lane I could feel the blood racing into my heart, which felt ready to explode from my chest. I was wide awake now and all my senses became heightened. That feeling stayed with me long enough to remember some of the other great adrenaline rushes I've had.
Skydiving, albeit tandem,was a pretty great rush. In fact I even got to perform community service during the jump. When we got to about 11,000 feet the guys on the plane started telling me that I could help everyone get more altitude and thusly,longer freefall if I flashed the pilot my boobs. Now, at first the feminist in me was annoyed and felt objectified but then I thought to myself, I'm no Puritan! They're just breasticles. I'll get more free fall. And when I m I ever gonna run into these Canadian wackjobs again (all of whom were chanting, "Take one for the team.")? So I did it. I walked up to the front of the plane, lifted my shirt and gave the pilot a peek at my pasty white 36C's. The plane then shot up 3,000 feet higher and the guys all cheered.
The jump was terrifyingly exhilarating and way too fast but it was comforting to know my breasts were worth 1500 feet each :)
I also find running from the police, whether being chased for real or by suggestion
is enough to get my body to perform great feats without even first considering them. A good example is when I was sixteen and smoking pot in someone's backyard. My friend Kenny thought it would be funny to run in the back and tell us the neighbors smelled the smoke and the cops were on their way through the house to the yard.
I scaled an 8 foot fence in less time than it takes me to sneeze. When I got to the other side and started into a full on sprint I heard the laughter and found out it was just a joke. Unfortunatelt my adrenaline is a better booster than my anger because I couldn't manage to get back over the fence. The whole experience over, I
was shaking with relief and rage. Fortunately by the time I made my way around the block and got back to the house I had let go of it.
But I remember walking home wishing I had a bottle of adrenaline in hand rather than the roach in my pocket.
Tuesday, April 04, 2006
Who are these people who have the time(and inclination) to call back the missed phone numbers in their caller ID?
How sad (and annoying) is that? Does it never occur to them that if it's important the person will call back? If they didn't leave a message perhaps it wasn't important. For that matter, it may have been a wrong number.
It just seems sort of pathetic to me that someone would waste their time in this way. Are they that bored? lonely? inquisitive (read nosy)?
As long as I'm complaining, I may as well tell you that what really makes me happy
...are the people who call the switchboard where I work and want to know who, in a company of 275+ called them around 3:30. "Umm, yeah. I just checked my caller ID and someone from your office called me."
One of these days I'll have to post about
all the assholes I deal with on a day to day basis.
Some real winners,folks...
Remember the unofficial signs of spring? One of them was that I'd be writing more consistently. Well, the problem there is that springtime just makes me think perverted and lascivious thoughts - all the time. I would share these with you dear readers, but I am afraid my depravity would taint your angelic image of me for all time.
Anyhow, here's a picture that tickled me...
it comes to you from the Institute of Official Cheer. You can't go wrong with monkeys - ever. And a monkey with red hair... well, that's just more fun than having sex while eating pizza.
The Institute was introduced to me by my friend Genevieve(who my bgh refers to as Gwendolyn)who is adept at finding odd websites I'd have never found otherwise.