Thursday, May 31, 2007

pink, blue, pink, pink, oops

Babeeeeeeeee, it is hot hot hot today! And I have not had a cup of the divine joe since Monday. AND I'm still not freaking out! Woo-hoo! I was about to make a pot this morning because I was on total auto-pilot... (shocking) so much so that I took the wrong pills this morning. oops. See the Xanax and the Synthroid are virtually the same color and I just grabbed. Every morning the first thing I do is take a blue (Zoloft) and a pink (Synthroid) and then I make the blessed brown stuff (COFFEE people, COFFEE!) This morning I opened the wrong bottle, saw the pink and popped it. The second it went down I knew I'd made a big mistake (Xanax dissolves and you get a little hint of YUCK - this doesn't happen with the Synthroid.) *sigh* Since I wasn't really stressed, the Xanax knocked me right out and back to bed I went. Good times. No coffee, but lots of sleep. And that's not so bad. But I had wanted to get going early today and sabotaged myself right into another sleepy time. Ah screw it! I need the sleep - I always do, a lifetime of insomnia will do that to you. So it's just as well.

This detoxing is pretty great so far. I'm currently having a torrid affair with celery. Cannot get enough of it. I'm freakin' CRAVING celery! What's THAT about? I mean, c'mon, celery? Is there caffeine in celery? Hmmm.

I really am just blathering here, but I have recently been told that some people are disappointed if there isn't a new entry every day. I cannot be the creator of disappointment! So here ya go. You asked for it. (if you didn't ask for it, I do apologize - I'll come up with something more deep and earth shattering later when the Xanax fully wears off... and the heat abates!)

Wednesday, May 30, 2007

The Blind Leading the Blind

I'm 'cleansing'. Doing the vegan diet, no coffee (WHAT THE HELL?!@!) and generally attempting to find a way to sleep without it being a huge negotiation between my brain and my body. As part of this attempt at calming myself down I went for another long walk - with one destination, no time frame. It's the time frames that get me. Schedules and such. I worry, I stress, I put a lot of pressure on myself to run errands in a logical and efficient manner. Why? 'cause I'm like that. Trouble is it becomes paralyzing and I end up not getting anything done - except making my brain run circles.

I've always been one of these people who cannot turn off. Certainly it's the result of too much smarts. Big brain and all.

Ahhhhhhahahahahahaha. Okay, now that was a good joke.

But truly, I can't stop. Thinking too much. It's so ingrained, I can't imagine not being like this. And though I would never have thought it, some people can actually spot it. There was this bouncer at a bar I used to frequent, really lovely guy - we spent an incredible 12 hours together the first time we met. And let's be polite and say we were not playing checkers (and we weren't sleeping). And that 12 hours does not include travel time. A-hem. In one of the brief 'need a glass of water' moments of our non-checkers playing he said to me: "you never stop, do you?" I thought, naturally, that he was referring to my exceptionally vigorous non-checkers playing. But no. He was poetically inclined, (actually had a book of poetry with him that we read on the way to Brooklyn and our non-checkers game) and had just dropped out of the seminary (yes, oh yes), and he clarified: "the cogs and wheels [in your brain], they never stop." I've always found it amazing that someone I knew for less than a day could see that. Then again I've always been shocked when anyone sees me; let alone has a touch of insight about my inner weirdness. It doesn't happen so much.

Yesterday as I waited for the light to change at the corner of 40th and 3rd, listening to my iPod - Baila Me, Gipsy Kings was playing - I felt something nudge my ankle. I looked down assuming it was a dog (you know, the doggies love me) but it was the end of a white cane. I turned around and a blind man was saying something so I turned off the music and asked him to repeat. He asked what street he was on and I told him. He asked if I could help him cross the street. Well, hell, yes. He took my arm and we crossed. At the curb he asked how far I was going; he was going to 28th Street and if I could walk with him as far as I was going that would be a big help to him. As I was going to 14th I was more than happy to take him to his destination. And off we went. His name was Edgar, he was of Mexican descent (Hola amigo! Did he find the right escort or what?) and we had a lovely chat about the weather, what sort of salad I should make for dinner - he was with me on the avocados and mangos - and I left him at his corner and he told me I was a very nice, beautiful person. I put the Gipsy Kings back on and kept walking, with a big, stupid smile on my face. Maybe Edgar was blind, but I'd like to think he saw me. It was just one of those random things that makes a walk a fine adventure.

Tuesday, May 29, 2007

I Dream Dead People

This happens. It used to happen constantly when I was very depressed. I would dream about people I know who are dead.

Last night I dreamt I met Wendy Wasserstein! While I was delighted to met her, there were family squabbles and such that made it unpleasant and there was a lot of "if you like them you can't like me!" stuff going on which was c.r.a.z.y.

Like dreaming about dead people isn't?

I used to dream about my mother and grandmother. They would beckon to me, but never, not once did either of them say a word. And I had these dreams almost nightly. So there was not a lot of wordy verification about what they wanted. My guess was that they were telling me I was next... which fit into my whole suicidal plan pretty dramatically. Funny how the brain works, huh?

Growing up, the Irish side was very big on the 'signs' and dreaming of the dead meant they wanted you to pray for them. I never quite got why they needed to be prayed for as they were already dead... but okay, what do I know.

Dreaming about Wendy Wasserstein, who was not Irish as far as I know, is more of a conundrum. Totally out of the blue. And it's not as if we were buds. But I did admire her. A lot. Her plays had a profound affect on the course of my life - I transferred into an all women's college to 'live' Uncommon Women and Others. Didn't quite work out the way I'd envisioned, but maybe I SHOULD have opted for Mount Holyoke. Damn the expense! Though realistically there was no way I could have afforded it. Oh well.

Dreams about the dead always leave me uneasy the next day. I know dreams are our sounding boards, our brains unfettered by self-censoring consciousness allowing us to delve into the things we need or want to do, or the things we are avoiding or unable to find solutions to. When the dead are pulled into the cast of the films of my dreamscape I always feel there's something more significant going on. So it nags at me. Nag, nag, nag.

Too bad it wasn't the flying dream again. Dreams. So fickle.

Monday, May 28, 2007

Is it Monday?

It's a gorgeous day, it's hot but not too humid and it's clear and quiet in the city because everyone who left town is still barbecuing or whatever it is that people do on these summer-y holidays. I love it when the city is so quiet. I could have gone to the gym, but instead I took a walk. I'm torn between heading back out to walk a bit more... my feet are itchin' to roam and my fingers are itchin' to type. Hey, rock how ya doin'? Great, Hard Place, how's the wife and kids?"

It's not really a rock and a hard place, clearly, it's just one of those days when you want to do everything but ... until I find a way to type and walk at the same time... you know. Compromises will have to be made.

When I was on my stroll just now a song shuffled onto my iPod that I just love: Lisa Marie Presley's Idiot.


Hot Damn but that song makes me happy! I know, I know it's sorta mean spirited... but still! It's uplifting whenever you come upon a song, a poem, a story - anything really - that relates to your life so perfectly you wonder how it is possible you didn't come up with it yourself. And this song... well... let's say it speaks volumes to me and it puts the itty-bittiest bounce in my step and a smile on my face.

I go back and forth with the idea of spilling every awful detail of the relationship that this song brings to mind. Hmmm. Wait. Relationship is too broad a term, let's see... better word... better word OH GOT IT! FUCKING TORTURE! That's it! Ta-Da! (yes technically that's two words but cut me some slack here, 'k?)

The trouble with delving into that unholy alliance in any way would require me thinking about that vile creature, my stupidity and my severe illness. So it's really unlikely that I'll ever feel enough desire to write about it in depth to outweigh the bringing up of bad memories and, frankly, boredom. I am deliriously happy never to think or discuss this man (again, too good a term for him) and yet this song still makes me happy. I think it's just the happiness of knowing that I will never have to see or speak to him again and that I don't feel in the least sad about THAT at all that makes this song such a happy thing for me.

I have dodged two major bullets in my time, relationship-wise (either of which would, had they gone the way I wanted them to, would have resulted in me being put in a mental institution for sure) and for that I am profoundly grateful. Of course, at the time said bullets were being dodged I was desperately unhappy. Because I felt that they were each (at the time) the absolute 'love of my life'. Uh. Yeah. Clearly I am not the best judge of that sort of thing. At least I know that now. Took a while for me to discover the fact that I am simply not the 'fall in love' type. Much as I wish I were: it simply is not in the cards for me. And most days, like today, I'm okay with that. My friends love me (don't you???), and anything with fur and four legs, feathers or scales seem to find me irresistible so that doesn't suck too much. Oh sure it'd be nice not to be someone who only attracts sociopaths.... drunks.... and septuagenarians... but on the other hand at least I was never dopey enough to marry one of 'em, and that's the one great lesson learned from my parent's marriage: DON'T DO IT!

This is not to say that marriage cannot work for some people - I'm just saying that I 'got it' at 8 years of age: THIS is not the path for you!!! And I've stuck by that very wise decision. And I'm going to keep sticking by it. If by some chance I should have a third 'bullet', I'm going to remember what a smart 8 year old I was.

Now I'm going back out for another walk because this meandering post is more than enough typing for now!

Saturday, May 26, 2007

the bandit

As you may have read, the 2007 model of the Pug has been recalled due to structural/design flaws. I discovered today that the earlier models, while structurally sound do indeed have a flaw: larceny. Miss X attempted a robbery today. I said ATTEMPTED. Luckily the homeless man she tried to steal the take-out from said he would not press charges. So it's all good.

I don't want to get into too many details, but let's just say the Kung Pao Chicken was too much temptation for the little puglet. I don't believe she is a kleptomaniac nor a thrill-seeking robber, but something clicked and she simply couldn't resist trying to dive bomb the man who was sitting in a doorway eating the aforementioned Chinese delicacy. Look, she was clearly starving: she had only eaten her own breakfast, most of Basil's and a handful of treats and it was almost LUNCH time so it's understandable that the poor little thing was famished. Oy.

After dragging her away from what to her was an obvious street fair of food, we were only a block from home and the yum-yum-yumminess of a bowlful of Science Diet when we were assailed by a cab driver on a break who wanted to know who I liked better: the dog or him. (Does that seem like a good pickup line? In what language? On what PLANET?) This guy tried to ply Miss X with some sort of gelatinous luncheon meat product which she would have gladly scarfed down without a moment's hesitation. No way, Dude. I told him it would disrupt her tummy and he insisted. WTF! NO. I said NO bizarro lunch meat for the dog, pal. Seriously. I was trying to get away, Miss X, naturally, wanted to stay with the human who was proving his love with food rather than go with me, the lame ass who was going to give her kibble, but a couple of people stopped and were crouching down to rub her head and I wanted her to get her fair share of human devotion. Unfortunately lunch meat guy was trying to sneak a piece of the slimy stuff to her under cover of her impromptu massage session and I had to simply walk away; sad, starving dog in tow. Idiot lunch meat man.

The Blatantly Unrepentant Miss X

Luckily she forgot all the delightful food products she could have had al fresco when I gave her a bowl of crunchy kibbles. Clearly the pug ain't too fussy 'bout the chow. I only hope we can make it through her next walk without her trying to hold up the bagel shop.

Friday, May 25, 2007

problems with pug sitting

Last night Miss X came by, she'll be with us for the weekend while her mom is off performing a marriage ceremony. Seriously. When I'm making stuff up, I'll let you know.

This morning I took her out - it is so weird to me to walk a dog AROUND the block. I love the novelty of a dog who actually wants to leave the front stoop! But as we rounded the corner heading home I spotted a newspaper headline that froze me in my tracks.

MASSIVE PUG RECALL

Normally I don't touch newspapers - the ink really irritates me. The smell gives me a headache. But I felt compelled to grab this one. I couldn't wait to get home to find it online.

*sigh*

It's all so sad. I know Miss X is not one of the recalled models. But who knows where this may lead!

I'm afraid to break the news to her mom.

Thursday, May 24, 2007

There are days I love my horoscope

I get my horoscopes (sun and rising, I'm thorough people) via email every day. I read them the way I always have, with a hefty grain of salt, for fun. And when I get one that reads like today's:

Don't turn down one single invitation, even if you just want to stay home with a comfy blanket and a really good movie. Anything could happen. You two could even like each other. A lot.
You're the hottest show in town. Just ask your stunned, grinning companion. What on earth will you do for an encore? Your audience can't wait!

it gives me a little lift. I kid you not people, it doesn't take much!

I've always been teetering on the fence with astrology - I think it can be highly entertaining but I also think there's some validity to it. I don't think it can or should run anyone's life: but I think there are enough similarities in people within the confines of each sign to say that there is something to it. And I like to keep an open mind. Plus it coincides with my spiritual path of choice; and there are too many unknowns in life for us to negate anything totally.

I'd like to think there's validity in today's horoscope - and often I think by reading something in a horoscope we can choose to make it happen to varying degrees. The power of our thoughts is our great untapped resource. Anything that gives us pause, makes us think, is worthwhile. Oh no... I'm sorry but I feel a little of that ol' time religion comin' on!

When I don't feel well I like to comfort myself with movies. I particularly find horror movies distracting. Not slasher-flicks, but suspense, ghost stories or good sci-fi. I rented and watched Jesus Camp yesterday.

Oh golly-gee, can you guess where I'm going with this?

That is a serious horror flick.

The separation of church and state ensures our right to openly practice whatever spiritual beliefs we choose. The fact that the current administration is supported by the Christian Right is, clearly, a threat to that freedom and it scares me. A LOT.

The idea that one very vehement, very judgemental group has such influence on government is simply terrifying. The Spanish Inquisition as just one example of what has happened in the past.

The idea that we are truly free to practice the religions or spiritual beliefs of our choice in this country is still really just an ideal when there are groups who are actively fighting to 'take control for Jesus'. I'd be less afraid to sit alone in a dark room watching a triple feature of Evil Dead, The Exorcist and The Ring than I was watching this documentary in the daylight... with a big dog next to me.

The fact is that though we may want to dismiss the fear of a 'religious take-over' as something that could never happen here it could.

A tiny (and I do mean TINY) but still shudder-worthy example of what can happen when your beliefs are in the minority happened to me in college. Wanna hear? Okay.

I transferred into a women's college catholic college in my Junior year (please, long story - I wanted to make women friends). Actually they had become a non-ecumenical college by the time I was attending - so you did not have to be a Catholic to attend. Which was good as I had dropped Catholicism more than a decade before. Of course it was still predominately Christian, Catholic in particular - c'mon, we had nuns there! The point is that religion was supposedly no an issue any longer - it helped with their funding. In fact it was in the process of admitting men (only to the weekend commuter college though!) as well so it was certainly 'keeping up with the times'. Uh-huh.

Well. As I mentioned above: I enjoy Astrology. More so when I was younger than now, but still. When I packed off to school I took every single book I owned. Yes, I really did. Every single one. And the ones that were of particular interest to my friends were the books on astrology. "Can you tell if he likes me - should I date a Libra?" You know shit like that. So we had fun with the books.

I had been randomly assigned a roommate that first year. I had vivid fantasies of my new roommate and I becoming the best of friends - oh yeah that was so not going to happen. See, this woman was as opposite me as is possible. And she was a Born-Again Christian. She'd masturbate loudly in the closet (no lie) and then come out and read the bible for hours sitting at her desk. No comment.

Any way... here's silly me thinking 'religious freedom' 'freedom of speech' etc. My friends would come over, we'd look up info on their signs, and then off to lunch. You know, no big. While the roommate would ignore us (sweet) and continue reading the bible.

I never pulled out the Tarot in front of her, I thought it might offend her for sure and I was being respectful. Well, she gave me no such respect in return. In fact she went to the R.A. of our dorm and reported me for - get this now: BEING A WITCH. She didn't say Wiccan, nor Pagan: WITCH. Old-school, heretic to be burned at the stake-style witch.

Yeah. Because of Astrology. Because of BOOKS.

Welcome to religious freedom.

And guess which one of us got a stern talking to? Uh-huh. Good guess.

Of course I ignored it as TOTAL bullshit. And believe me, roomie and I never spoke again. Good thing I had a lifetime of practice living with people who believed in the silent treatment.

BUT not long after this a group of us began fooling around with a Ouija board. C'mon, college girls, please, of course we did! I'll tell you right now - if you have one of those things around DUMP IT, it's bad mojo and I advise against messing with 'em - another long story. Guess what happened because of THAT? Oh no, no 'talking to' for that. For the use of the Ouija board - in my own room, in private, when roomie was out (maybe masturbating in someone else's closet) the entire SCHOOL got a talking to.

Swear to GOD. (oops sorry)

Somehow 'rumors' of people using ouija boards had gotten to the administration. Oh HELLFIRE! So they got a priest in to give an attendance-mandatory lecture on demon possession, mind control, and the dangers of witchcraft - 'cause it's all anti-christian after all.
(fyi: the primary, and most important tenet of Wicca goes like this:
"Do as ye will, and harm ye none.".... sounds suspiciously like
"do unto others as you would have them do unto you" doesn't it. OOO- evil!)

For this I was killing myself working at Taco Bell to pay tuition? Well... I was young and stupid after all.

So all I'm saying is, you may think you have certain unalienable freedoms but there will always be someone just dying for the chance to persecute you for it. Someone who knows 'THE TRUTH' - you know, what's 'best for you.'

It's bad enough it happened to me in college; imagine if it happened to an entire country? You can get an idea of what would happen: read Margaret Atwood's The Handmaid's Tale. Scary, scary stuff.

As for me, I like my horoscope today and I'm going with that. So there. Just call me a Witch.

Wednesday, May 23, 2007

A full life?

I have been thinking a lot about a post that one of my all-time favorite bloggers put up Monday. You should go read it then come back.

Did you read it? No, I can tell. Now go read it, (I'll be referring to the third section in this post) because I'm not going to reiterate here and then this won't make sense.

That's better. Welcome back and Thank you!

Now. About this living life to the fullest.

This is something I have thought about daily since my big revelation. I do, honestly, think about it every single day. I think about it every morning when I take my little dose of keep-me-sane, yes the manufacturer of Zoloft should be giving me freebies, but they still don't... though I can continue to hope they will come around.

Every day I think 'is this enough'? When I start to wonder if I'm wasting my life, wasting an hour, wasting a day. When I start to feel like time is slipping through my fingers and I wonder if I'm doing enough, will I have done anything important, anything that anyone will remember me by after I'm gone. When I feel like I'm missing out on things I want in my life. When I feel like crap, or I'm sad (just normal people sad, not kill myself sad-don't worry, the only razorblades around now are in my daisy lady's shavers). When I want WANT WANT things I seem destined not to have and wonder if I can ever simply accept it and stop WANTING. When I'm anxious and stressing and scared and cranky I wonder: what is happiness?

For all the striving for some 'more' for some elusive, intangible thing I cannot name. For all the fear of wasting what is so precious. For all the kicking myself for stupid moves, bad decisions, loving people who hurt me. I have to stop, be still for a minute and remember that I am here. Now. I'm alive when I truly shouldn't be. I'm saner than I've ever been. I'm safer than I've ever been. And whether I have those intangibles or not: I am ALIVE.

With that one statement "I am alive" all possibilities abound. The choices on the buffet table are endless. Does it mean life is 'less lived' for not trying a spring roll or a pork bun? No. There may be a twinge of regret at missing a try at the lo mien, but wasn't the sweet & sour tofu delicious beyond words? We cannot try everything - there is simply too much - but we can savor what we have now. Because NOW is all we ever really do have.

Yesterday I was in such a black funk of hormonal angst and self-pity that I wanted to bang my head against the wall. The I WANTs were overwhelming me. The WHY WHY WHYs of poor, poor me were enough to make even me want to gag. The unendurable need for my daily dose of attention and ego stroking was making me nuts. (Gary, Kori, I appreciate your taking care of that section of the "poor me" program yesterday!)

Today I woke up feeling much better about it all. And the sun was shining through my colorful living room curtains, the atomic tangerine paint was practically glowing with the light and I thought; sometimes it feels like it did yesterday - not enough, never enough. And sometimes, like right this minute it feels like even more than I could have hoped.

There's a reference in Whim's post to naming the 5 happiest moments in your life. I'm a little bit afraid to try to make that list. Afraid I will realize I cannot find 5... and afraid I may have more than 5 and will have to choose. I'm going to attempt that list later on, but right now I have one. And no matter what else happens in my life, I will always, always have that one. It will always be at the top of the list.

And sometimes one is enough.

Tuesday, May 22, 2007

I hate brewing tea

Some people are tea people, some are coffee people. No doubt about which one I am. But sometimes I want a little tea: when I'm sick. Sometimes I try things like "sleepy time" or "tension tamer" teas - for the insomnia, but not often. But oh sweet jesus I HATE making tea. I simply hate it. It is the most long-winded, time consuming pain in the... you get the picture. It's the boiling water for one cup at a time that makes me nuts. Coffee however is a breeze. You make a POT and you're good to go. Yes, I know I could make a pot of tea as well, but truthfully I'm just not going to drink an entire pot of tea. Maybe 2 cups, that's about it so a pot is just wasteful.

Naturally I bring this up because I'm waiting for this stuff to brew right now.

I actually like herbal teas (not regular black tea - ick, it's like hot iodine!), I just hate the process. I could look at it like a soothing part of a busy day - but no. Because it isn't. It's just inefficient.

My head feels like it's filled with styrofoam peanuts - yet I'm not stuffy, not sneezing now, my throat is still sore but nothing's actually happening. It's annoying because I just know I'm going to wake up tomorrow coughing and unable to breathe but at the moment I'm still in the 'I feel it coming on' stage. Let's get to it already!

Sometimes I'm just not a patient woman.

Monday, May 21, 2007

aw hell

I was on the subway at some point on Saturday... where was I going again? Oh who can even remember that long ago. What I do remember is being smashed into a subway car like it was rush hour and some joker BREATHING on me. As clear as day I knew right then that I was going to end up with a cold. I even mentioned it to a friend during a phone call when I started sneezing; I never sneeze. I'm blessed to have no airborne allergies, hay fever and such are things I've never had to deal with, seriously I only sneeze if I accidentally inhale pepper (please, like it's never happened to you) OR I'm really sick... I'm lucky that way. So the sneezing Saturday night reinforced my premonition of impending illness.

I hoped the dry throat and sinus ache were just the result of some dehydration. Yeah, no.

Three liters of water (and corresponding multiple trips to the bathroom) provided no relief - not dehydrated.

And now I'm sure. I'm feeling a sneeze working up. My head is foggy, and heavy. I'm soooo sleepy and my throat remains dry no matter how much I drink. *sigh* I think I may need to invest in a bicycle. The subway is so not working for me, in so many ways.

On the bright side I do have a great big box of Puffs (with added aloe vera, for my oh so delicate nose) and I got the Pilates done in the morning so I can curl up on the couch with some Sleepy Time tea and take a nappy without feeling too much laziness guilt. (There will always be laziness guilt - it's just a matter of how much.)

AH- CHOOOOO!

Oh yeah.
I'm sick.
Bleech.

Sunday, May 20, 2007

I know you've been waiting

Who am I to deny the people what they want? Even if they don't realize they want it just yet. Well by God people I know you're itchin' to hear what I've been doing for the past 48 hours or so... okay so even if you're not. My blog. 'Nuff said.

Friday was my friend Lori's birthday. (Say: Happy Birthday, Lori everyone)

Her sister provided this cake, which I have to say, despite the absence of chocolate was fantastic.

There was an intimate soiree held at Miss Lori's palatial estate (read NYC apartment and let us all dream big) with her friends and family; who are, as is fitting, all funny, in the early part of the evening. Despite my party phobia I had a great time. GO figure! Then a portion of the party, including the birthday girl, headed down to The Red Lion to see The Niagaras. Really, I cannot stress this enough - if you happen to be lucky enough to have a birthday fall on a day they are performing: go, treat yourself. Or better still, throw yourself a fabulous birthday bash and hire them to play! There's really nothing else that will set the tone for the coming year in quite the same happy, silly, lovely way. (and no, I do not get kickbacks - I just want to spread the love).

The delightful and charming Niagaras were sweet enough to sing a little song for Lori. Lead singer Robert Whaley stepping back for a moment to let Tony Grimaldi do his thing. You can watch it here. I can't stop smiling when I see this. Whoever said 'nice men aren't sexy' has obviously never met The Niagaras.


The fabulous Rafael and his adorable bride Jeannette also attended the festivities - and I actually managed to dance for the first time in months and months... and months because I'm all brave about my pinched nerve and f-d up knee. FUN? Yes. It was a really fun night. Holy hell... does that sound like severe understatement or what? Geez Joy, grab a thesaurus fer cryin' out loud!

So that was Friday. And there's the insomniac nut, yes that would be me, up until god knows when, 3 hours sleep and I'm off to the theater... and walking home from 3 miles away, because, you know, I love the walking. Followed by 5 hours of phone catch up with my friend Kori who has just received an academic achievement award (read $$$) for her outstanding performance towards her horticulture degree. Go Kori! AND the very exciting news that her roommate, Jeanne will be performing in NYC in July! Of course I will be pushing that as we approach the date, because... it's what I do.

Today was an hour of Rafael kicking my ass and then another dose of the theater, because that is also what I do. And another 3 mile stroll home. YESSSSSSSS. Take that you ornery knee!! HA! Add to all this the general attempts at getting the dog to go out, cleaning the apartment (yeah, right liar) and polishing my chipped nails (yes, I am a little girly) and trying to get through Catch & Release (because, admittedly I do have a bit of thing for Kevin Smith... despite this movie being something of a chick flick - for Kevin I'll get through it).

Now I'm starting to feel a little bit sleepy! Nice! I feel like there's a pile of stuff I need to do, emails to reply to, writing to get to, one last giant box of crap to either sell on eBay or chuck ... ah hell, it can all wait.

Life is good. Tiring. But good.

Too busy to blog? C'mon.

I know you're all clamoring: "Joy! Where ARE you?! We've missed your meandering blatherings about nothing, your tortured ruminations on stuff, and your silly happy happy on the daily doin's that make life worthwhile. Again we say: Where are YOU, you sweet siren of the blogosphere?!"

Okay, nobody is saying that. But I can dream, can't I? Oh shush. Of course I can!

I'm running around like a chicken without a head (and yes, it's just as pretty as you might imagine). But I thought I'd pop on and post this teeny piece of video just to placate the masses. And by 'masses' I mean me.

So here's my blog fix for the day - until later when I have another free minute.

The Niagaras at The Red Lion, New York - May 18. Don't bemoan what you missed - just get there next time. And for now enjoy what you can see.


Friday, May 18, 2007

I miss movie popcorn...

I cannot remember the last time I went to a movie. No that's not true, it was JANUARY. And it wasn't at a 'regular' movie theater, it was at the Museum of Modern Art. Not that it doesn't count, but for someone who used to practically live at the movies it's amazing. And the Museum does not have popcorn.

I used to love to go to the first showing of the day (when Hannibal opened they had a 9:00AM showing - yes, I was there) and I loved movie popcorn for breakfast. Yes, yes, which is part of the reason I need to run and do Pilates. But there's more to that than popcorn. Any way...

I stopped going a few years ago. Part of the reason was I cannot stand to pay $10-$11 for a movie that will be available on DVD in 6 months or less, especially when I know damned well that no matter how empty the theater is at the first showing of the day invariably some 7 foot tall guy wearing a wide brimmed hat with a girlfriend who is 6 feet tall with a bouffant (with a bow on top) will sit DIRECTLY in front of me. And talk. Loudly. To each other and on their cell phones. While eating nachos and hotdogs. And running to the bathroom at least twice.

That's more than I can tolerate for a big screen experience. I'd rather go to the theater. People tend to behave a little more respectfully when they pay more: and when there are live performers in front of them. I said Sometimes. Sometimes people are just ill-mannered regardless of where they are.

It takes a lot for me to go to a movie now. It has to be something I'm dying to see, something that requires a big screen (like an action movie) or something that is a special event. And even then it requires much internal debate. The days of me just popping into any old movie are gone. It's just not what it used to be. Of course it's not just the 'experience' that is less than worthwhile but the movies themselves. There is so much crap being made today that it boggles the mind. Studios keep regurgitating the same movies, remaking movies that have been successful in other countries, remaking the same old same old just because it did well in the past. It's depressing that the only time something original is made is when it is an independent film. The amount of money blown on boring, bad movies is astounding. How about putting a little of that budget into a risk, something that is not a remake, something NEW? Yeah, and Santa is bringing me a pony for Christmas this year.

Sadly the same thing happens on Broadway. But at least there is the equivalent of the Independent film in Off-Broadway or Off-Off-Broadway where you can often find absolute gems of creativity.

Still, I do miss going to the movies.

I miss watching trailers. I miss that teeny adrenaline rush that happens when the lights finally go down and the film starts. The excitement of feeling drawn into a new place. I miss being engulfed by an overly loud sound system and a large screen that becomes, for approximately 90 minutes: the world. And yes, I miss the often stale, artificially flavored, popcorn.

Wednesday, May 16, 2007

Can I do one more cranky, angsty, less than cheery post?

NO.

I don't know about you, my faithful reader and a half, but I'm just getting tired of my own dreck lately. It's odd because I don't start out wanting to post the sad, uninspired rambling bits of boredom I've been spewing lately... it just seems to happen. I don't know it this is good or bad. Maybe good. Maybe some stuff needs to come out that I try to keep down. Eh. maybe not.

The weird thing is that I'm not sad or blue or any of that... in fact I'm a little over-energized and in an attempt not to completely destroy my knee, I'm enforcing the "stay away from the treadmill policy" (at least for another day) and in an attempt to steer clear of my other vice of choice (internet shopping) I'm writing more.

The unfortunate thing about the writing more is that I'm doing it here instead of the many other projects I should be working on... because I'm an attention whore. *sigh* There, it's been said. A shy attention whore. You try it! It's very confusing.

Happily I'm going to the theater tonight which will force me to pay attention to my brethren shy attention whores (actors, face it 95% of 'em are shy) and will give me a legitimate reason to walk a few miles. Walking is okay, isn't it, my little crunchy knee?

I have this thing about just 'going for a walk'... I can't do it. I need a destination, no matter how minor. I've got to mail this letter, hmmm I believe there's a mailbox 3 miles away - let's go!
I could walk on the treadmill at the gym but I'm only fooling myself: I can walk for about 5 minutes and then I feel the compelling urge to run and cannot stop myself. I don't feel that urge on the street - concrete is so not for running. But get my fat ass on a treadmill and all I want to do is click that dial up and run run run... except my knees seem to be in league against that.

Seriously, if it was one knee all the time, or both knees all the time it wouldn't be so suspect - but when the bastards switch off as they have recently done the jig is up. I'm onto their scheme. *sigh*

There's that rambling again. Sorry.

So it's back to the Pilates today - and I have to say while I barely felt a thing yesterday when I first tried it I absolutely felt a little sumpin' sumpin' today! How very exciting.. okay, exciting for me. Boring for you. And as it is supposed to be good for relieving neck tension, I'm even more excited.

But you know what is even more exciting? Oh c'mon... think a minute and I will bet you can guess what I'm going to say next... thinking? Oh try harder.

That's CORRECT!

The Niagaras are playing this Friday, April 18 at the Red Lion. If you are in New York, come down. And walk if you can: it's good for you!
If you're not in New York... I have to wonder why.

Tuesday, May 15, 2007

that was quicker than I thought it would be

This is the reason I, who have no children and want no children, became so upset by the story below of teachers torturing their charges.

It was not easy to write about this. And I know that there are many, many people who have endured far worse - but there should be no 'at least it wasn't's or 'not so bad's when it comes to any adult hurting a child, emotionally or physically. Nothing even close to this should be tolerated. Children, and animals, are innocents who are in our charge and they should be cared for and protected. In all instances.

Predator

breathe... breathe....

I did get a bit riled yesterday by that news item. I'm calmer now. *breathe in.... breathe out...*

Funny how things can push your buttons. It prompted me to write about something I don't write about or talk about often. One of those things that are unpleasant (to put it mildly) to remember. I'll be posting it on my other blog when I'm done. Though that may take some time. As with a lot of things I find painful, it seems to take me a long time to process them. The trick though seems to be to keep plugging away at it until it's done... because eventually you come out better for it. Knowing that doesn't make it easier to do the things that hurt; but at least it's something to look forward to.

In the breaks between writing about a 35 year old memory, I wanted to run... but yesterday I twisted something in my OTHER knee! My right knee has been on the 'ouchie' side since December and is finally feeling better - now the LEFT goes crunch on me! Damn! All I want to do is run, and the great treadmill god keeps screwing with me! What do I have to do, sacrifice a goat???? Geez. Since there is no way I'm sacrificing any animals to benefit my knee, I opted to try something different. Pilates! Wheeee. Oh.

It was my first time, I just did it with a DVD (I do love the library) and I have to thank the amazing Rafael again for all the ab work he's put me through over the years because this stuff would have murdered me otherwise. Oh who am I kidding? I wouldn't have even been able to do the first movement back then. The man had to pull me up to do a single sit-up. You want to talk gym-embarrassment? Oh yeah. So being able to get through the routine on the DVD made me feel better about not being able to run.... I'd still rather be running, but you do what you can with what ya got. And you do not hurt animals or children.

Any way. I realized I have a posting for every day this month - this is unprecedented for me and I wanted to keep it up. Which is why you are reading this blathering of nonsense. Aren't you lucky?

Monday, May 14, 2007

You have got to be f-ing kidding me

I just flipped through the annoying AOL 'welcome' screen and this caught my eye.

Teachers Stage Fake Gun Attack

Apparently the teachers (and the assistant principal) involved exercised "poor judgement".

POOR JUDGEMENT???????

POOR FUCKING JUDGEMENT?

NO.

Poor judgement is not making sure you have appropriate treats for kids with dietary issues.

THIS is FUCKING MORONIC STUPIDITY AND CHILD ABUSE!

When I was in the 6th grad I was tormented by the teacher I had for the second half of the 5th grade. (I'll write about that nightmare on my other blog) and nothing was done. Kids have more power now. Or parents are more willing to step up. Or something.

For now I am so incensed I cannot even TRY to make sense.

I am appalled.

THEY ARE 6th GRADE CHILDREN FOR CRYING OUT LOUD! CHILDREN!!!!!

Ugh.

Sorry. About the profanity and screaming. But I'm so disgusted I can't stand it.

Isn't it horrible enough that these things might one day happen for real? What IDIOT thought it would be a good idea to scare the shit out of them on a class trip?

Someone needs to burn in hell, that's all I have to say.

Chick Flicks

I'm not a big fan of chick-flicks. You know, the romantic comedy wherein the somewhat misfitted lead characters find each other in some outlandishly adorable way, fall in love - back off, then find each other again and live happily ever after.

I'm not a fan.

It's not that I'm anti-romance, or love, or a flight of fiction that ends with happily ever after. I'm not a fan because... because I'm not that girl. And I wish that I was.

I am not someone who falls easily, which is probably why I am not someone others fall for.

Over the course of my life I have found it easiest to simply blame my fluctuating weight. If I'm thin, I'm desirable - if I'm fat I'm heinous. The trouble with that philosophy is that it is inaccurate. It's not my weight. It's not my hair color, glasses, complexion, education or sense of humor - quite simply it's me. It's how it is. I'm not easy (I don't mean like THAT), and I don't mean I'm difficult to live with either. I'm actually pretty kind, thoughtful and generous (if I do say so myself)... but there is something about me that is hard.

I suppose being guarded despite seeming open makes things hard.
Being afraid of having my heart ripped open again makes it hard.
Being the cynic who was once the epitome of the die-hard romantic makes it hard.
and Trust? Oh please, let's not even discuss that one.

When you're a 'little different' than average and you see the world in a slightly off-kilter way and you tend to open your mouth and say shocking things without seeing that they are shocking (and even more often when you see that they ARE), and you don't give a shit about the things 99.9% of American men think women want, oh and you actually LOVE sex (sorry not explaining that one), I think it's hard to find someone who can identify, let alone understand and love.

For me watching a chick flick doesn't leave me sighing with awww that's so sweet, so romantic... *sigh*. It leaves me feeling bad about myself. It leaves me wondering why I can't be 'that girl' why I have never been her and why when we have aphorisms like 'there's a pot for every lid' I have always been misfitted. Sometimes with horrible results, sometimes with a simple 'oops, this ain't' right'.

I'd like to believe there is someone for everyone. Unfortunately I have a feeling my 'someone' is living a hermetic life on a mountain in Tibet, watching chick flicks and thinking: "I hate chick-flicks. I'm not that guy.... I wish I was."

Chick flicks often feature quirky, free spirits who stumble into love under the most unusual circumstances. *sigh* If I book a trip to a remote mountain on Tibet, I trust that I will stumble - right off the god damned mountain.

I hate chick flicks.

Sunday, May 13, 2007

Mother's Day

I had forgotten about Mother's Day until Friday night when my friend Lori and I were parting ways on the corner of 86th & 2nd. We had attended a screening at The New School of media, films and animation, that was to include her animation of a fairy tale involving bleeding frogs - it did not. Boo & humbug to those who put it together and did not include hers! Grrr. Her other short film Foot-age* was included and is very funny, but still... I wanted to see the bleeding frogs she had worked so hard on that she had aggravated a nerve in her elbow. C'mon people, she endured pain to make those cartoon amphibians bleed - the least they could have done was include them in the program as planned.

Okay. Sorry. I get very defensive and angry when I feel my friends have been dissed in any way. Probably why I like pitbulls. And dogs in general: loyalty, baby, loyalty.

After the screening and a bit of the bitching, we had dinner and then headed home. We hugged good-bye on the corner as mentioned above and a somewhat 'altered' (whether by illness or drink is hard to determine) homeless man jumped in for a group hug with a toothless and cheery greeting of "Happy Mother's Day!". Hellllllo? Well, it was certainly unexpected, completely inaccurate (as the only creatures either of us aspire to 'mother' are dogs) and while a teeny bit off-putting it was still oddly amusing. It also reminded me that today is Mother's Day.

My own mother has been gone for nearly 6 years. It is no secret that I do not miss her. I know that sounds icy as all hell, but it is true. Call me a bitch if you must, but at least I'm honest. A trait I did not learn from her. Throughout my childhood, and in fact right up until the day she died, I dreaded her passing. And then she was gone... and I felt nothing. This, of course, makes me sound like the devil incarnate. Oh well. The truth is I do not miss either of my parents, and while that is a shame, it is also the honest truth.

Our relationships were hard. There was a dearth of affection, loyalty and love coupled with an overabundance of co-dependency, violence, disappointment and pain. Despite this I was 'dutiful' which of course led to much resentment and a LOT of anguish. The sad truth is that the only escape for a 'good daughter' was for them to pass away. It's hard to miss people who refused to give you what you wanted, needed and I'm going to say it: were entitled to. A child is entitled to its parents love and affection. This is not something I received. I stopped trying to get it at a very young age... although if I'm honest, my 'dutiful' behavior proves I did continue to try, albeit in a somewhat passive aggressive way.

A lot of children of alcoholic parents become the parents in the home. I know I'm not alone in that. Sometimes it's only one parent, sometimes, as in my case, it is both; but regardless, a 'home' requires parents and if the adults aren't doing it the child will. Often it is the oldest, or the only child who takes on the role (and God knows if you're a Capricorn child like me, you're already 3/4 of the way to being an adult at birth so you really have no choice). I may not have supported the household, but emotionally I was the adult - it's an awkward position to be in. And it left me feeling out of place in almost every circumstance as I felt neither that I was a child, nor an 'official' adult. You learn to avoid stepping on toes. You learn to work it from behind the scenes. And eventually you become invisible: certainly to the people you want to care the most.

So while I do not miss my mother, I do miss what I used to yearn for. A mother who was not an alcoholic; a mother who cared enough about my safety to get out of a house of violence and terror; a mother who would at least acknowledge that she was sorry she allowed me to grow up in that horror show; a mother who would actually hug me, or at least attempt some sign of physical affection; a mother who made me felt cared for and safe, and even loved... a little bit. I miss dreaming that I could have that. I know it is impossible, but it would have been nice.

I know many people who have very loving mothers. To them I say: Happy Mother's Day! And I do mean it.


*FYI: if/when Foot-age is uploaded on youtube I will post it here. Hint, hint.

Thursday, May 10, 2007

To be or not to be...

I have a bit of a Shakespeare fetish. It's not a crazy, dress up in Elizabethan-wear and run about the house speaking in iambic pentameter kind of fetish... Really it's not. I can't: the dog really hates iambic pentameter... it makes him angry. It's freaky! But I do have a particular fondness for Shakespeare. I'd list my other fetishes but this is not that kind of blog. It could become that kind of blog, but I'm resisting that urge. Naughty, naughty Joy.

But Shakespeare? Aw, that's alright.

In fact I cracked my Riverside Shakespeare just yesterday, amidst the mania, to begin re-reading Romeo & Juliet. I actually did a production (off-off-Broadway) several years ago, and that puts you waaaay up on any script over simply reading for pleasure, so re-reading is sort of superfluous now. But a friend of mine had an idea for a ... okay, not giving anything away. Let's just call this research.

When I was a kid I was a Midsummer Night's Dream aficionado. Can you imagine? What the hell kind of kid WAS I? No wonder my parents were distant. But as I got older I realized there really is nothing to compare with HAMLET. Nothing. It is the perfect play. It addresses everything: including suicide. Which, while that was not the thing that drew me to it, given my history and that of my family, certainly has resonance for me.

When Kenneth Branagh's version of Hamlet hit the big screen I was there at the premiere. I even have a program. Nice.

I have been waiting for this film to come to DVD since I got a DVD player. I had an alert at Amazon so I could get my hands on it as soon as it was available. This morning the email came! Four hours of DVD fun-fun-fun (Hamlet style) is going to hit the shelves on August 14. To say I'm happy would be understatement.

Miss X is visiting again today, and in honor of the Hamlet announcement I asked her to do an imitation of the melancholy Dane; as Basil is firmly against doing Shakespeare.She may have thought I meant imitate a Great Dane... but she's a bit petite to pull that off; and it does seem she has captured the essence of Hamlet here. So good for her!

Maybe this was my 'psychic' moment from yesterday? Could be. After all: There are more things in heaven and earth, [Joy], than are dreamt of in your philosophy.

Wednesday, May 09, 2007

Could ya sit still for a minute????

I did get out and walked off a little of the antsy-ness. I even went to the park! It would have been really great if Basil had come along, but heaven forbid my dog go anywhere near a PARK. *shudder* there are DOGS there! So I went alone and looked enviously at all the people whose dogs wanted to come out with them. Nice doggies. Mine was at home watching soap operas and the tape of his Auntie Charissa's L&O:CI episode! Not that I can fault him for that - it was a damned fine show.



But I did bring my camera, in lieu of the dog, and here you see what happens when fading cherry blossoms meet the winds coming off the East River. It's pretty. Like pink snow. I wish I'd been able to get a decent shot of it actually fluttering to the ground but that seemed only to be happening on the street, so I missed it in motion, but I still think it looks pretty.


Most of the tulips I saw on my little trek were on their last legs... umm... petals? And looked so sad. These actually look okay here - but up close they had some serious city miles on 'em.

Not so this little display! They were still raring to go.


This park had been the scene of a rather emotional ... what... can I call it a 'talk'? doubtful... between the Very Bad Man in my life and I. This, in fact, is the very bench we sat on and discussed... NOTHING. At least nothing that was ever resolved over the following five years of pain and torment. (Ugh. Call me slow.)

I was surprised to find it empty on such a gorgeous day. Somehow the empty bench seemed appropriate and I wanted to document it. I wrote some really painfully bad poetry about this non-discussion we had on this bench. Word to the wise: do not get involved in a romantic relationship when your world is collapsing and you are an emotional wreck. It's unlikely you will be attracting a good person while you're in that state. I'm just saying.

Happily all that is over and in the past. Although I have to admit to some small residual anger and disgust, but only a very little bit as I rarely think of him now. And even that little bit is passing. Which is a very good thing.

If I could get this hyper/manic/antsy feeling to pass THAT would be a very good thing TOO!

You know that feeling...

The one you have when you're waiting for news? Like a call about a job, the 'after the date' call, the news from the doctor... I have that feeling right now and it is making me NUTS!

I'm NOT waiting for news from anyone about anything. Oh sure there's lots of loose ends hanging on the edges of my life, but that's normal, and none of those are things I'm anticipating a call or email from. (Unless the vacuum cleaner decides to call and say either we spend some one-on-one private time together or we break up.)

So what is this?! Is there a full moon I'm unaware of? I am absolutely on the edge of my seat for no earthy reason. I promise, the coffee consumption has been moderate (for me).

I sweated out at least a quarter of the Hudson River at the gym this morning. Took a shower and now all I want to do is go for a walk... or back to the gym... and do it again just to get rid of this antsy feeling that something is a-coming.

I don't feel like it's anything bad necessarily, just that something is brewing and I'm totally in the dark about what it is.

So either I'm having some kind of psychic moment... or maybe I'm a little manic. Ooops. Let's hope for the psychic moment - not just for my sake, but for the sake of my credit, my self-esteem and every hapless half-way decent looking heterosexual male that crosses my path.

Oy, it had better be a psychic moment!

blah blah blah where's the ice cream?

A pile of ideas are setting up shop in my freaky little brain, and not a one of them wants to open for business. I peruse the shelves of these unopened stores of wonder and for the life of me cannot choose. I'm browsing. It's time to buy!

Ugh.

This is not writer's block, it's writer's disorganization.

Think I'd rather have the block, thank you.

It's amusing (to nobody but me) that I can yammer on and on, jumping from one topic to another and then somehow circling back to the original topic: when I'm TALKING. If I try to do that here, with the inventory of ideas floating down the aisles of my own personal Stop N Shop of a brain it would turn into a novella instead of a blog entry. And I trust no one wants to read my rambling novella. Oh one day you might. One day you'll think to yourself, "Gee, I wonder what that shopping metaphor novella of Joy's would have been like... sure wish I could read that now. It would go really well with this bowl of Cheetos." Watch, you'll think it now! You'll hate me for it, but you'll think it! mwahahaha

Completely jumping topics here: that flying dream really is tormenting me! Not in a bad way, but I can't seem to stop thinking about it. It was so brief, and I've spent 10 times the waking hours thinking about it than it actually took to dream the thing. I understand these flying dreams stay with people for an extended time, longer than other types of dreams. I think to myself, there: look at that, if I'd managed to kill myself (almost 2 years 7 months ago now! woo-hoo!) I would have never had that flying dream. I wish I could hold the feeling and make it physical, a little totem to carry around with me. It was so expansive and freeing... and I want to have that dream again. Right now would be nice... though that would involve going back to sleep and the fact is I have to haul it to the gym not the bed this morning. So no luck there.

How do people who have these dreams often cope with being awake? Gary: help me out here honey. I'm craving it like a drug... or
Häagen-Dazs Pomegranate Chip ice cream. (if you haven't tried it, splurge: it is the SHIT!

For the vegans or lactose intolerant Turtle Mountain makes one that is also fantastic! It's also a lot cheaper and healthier for you.


Flying, pomegranates, chocolate and shopping metaphors... what the ....? I dunno, you tell me. See? Rambling.


I'm paralyzed by all the things I want to say, all the things I want to do and because of the overload I seem to do ... nothing. Actually, I am doing... it's just never enough! The world is too full, my brain is too curious and there is not enough time. God I admire people who can focus. People who can pick a thing and stay with it, like a career or a hobby. I tend to submerge in the current obsession and then *poof* I'm over it. Where does that get me? Aiiiiieeeeeee!!!


Clearly someone needs to go run for a while and clear the cobwebs. Maybe then I'll settle down, the shopkeepers will turn their 'closed' signs around to 'open' and we can get to something that actually makes some sense.

BTW if either Häagen-Dazs or Turtle Mountain would like to pay me for these little promotions, I'm more than willing to be paid in pints. Oh... and if you could make this flavor sugar-free I'd be even happier!

Tuesday, May 08, 2007

curse your sudden but inevitable betrayal

For Whim - because I haven't gotten the Basil dance on film yet!

No means No Mr. Bunny!

Is there anything as amusing as a bunny?
Probably not.
Though this kitten might not agree.

Monday, May 07, 2007

Reading, Walking, Sleeping... how about some Blogging!

My schedule is all askew. I have been sleeping during the day and up all night. Yes, this feels more right to me, and yet it is screwing with my day to day. Go figure. I'm hoping to readjust, but then again... why?

The weather has been so great that I've been able to walk almost everywhere I've needed to be lately, so nice... except when there are parades WHY are there so many PARADES in this city?!!

I'm reading like a mad woman, which I haven't really done since I was in Mexico last. Either I don't have the time, or can't find a book that grabs me. But the past few weeks I've been immersed and this too feels more right to me. Currently I'm hooked on The Romance Reader by Pearl Abraham. No, it is not a Harlequin. It's about a young girl growing up in a Hassidic community in the 1970s. You want a peek into a lifestyle? Pick up this book. I'd be reading it now except that I've been doing this new thing with books... reading them at a reasonable rate. Rather than storming through them in a day or two I'm letting them settle in, staying with them a little longer. It feels a little like a tease to someone who, as a teenager, stayed awake for a 72 hours non-stop reading marathon of Stephen King's The Stand, yet there's a real plus to savoring the journey. Look at me, finally figuring that out. go me.

Of course running around to the theater, hitting the gym, seeing soul lifting musical performance art, and walking my sneakers to shreds all over New York means I'm up all night devouring the books. I'm SLEEPY!

But the sleep has brought something very new, and kind of amazing: the dreams.

Since I was a child I have had a really good hold on lucid dreaming. You know, where you know you are dreaming and can make choices in the dreams. It's good, a sort of subconscious meets the conscious form of internal therapy. It is an especially good skill to cultivate if you have issues with nightmares. Being able to address yourself in the midst of a nightmare can be very reassuring - it can also help you wake up from the damned things. But last night... okay, I guess it was actually this morning, I had a dream the like of which I have never had before. I'm not sure if I should be stoked... or scared.

It was not a nightmare by any means, it was just a dream I have never had before in my life. It's an extremely common dream, possibly one of the more common ones, yet I had never had it and I have always attributed that to my fear of heights.

I dreamt I was flying.

and

It was FUCKING AWESOME!

At first I floated, without realizing it until I saw someone else was floating (and reading a newspaper)... I wondered if it would be possible to go higher... to fly rather than just float along. Then I did something very rare for me (in dreams or in life) I just 'let go', I fell backwards and the wind pushed me up, I was barely a foot off the ground and then I let myself relax even more and told myself 'you big goof, it's a DREAM, you aren't really flying and you will not fall so it's okay: DO IT'. And I did. I even kept my eyes opened and watched the ground a good 100 feet below. I think this was easily the best dream I've ever had - and I've had some doozies (both good and bad).

Where did this one come from in a life of non-flying dreams? I'm usually able to ferret out the waking-life triggers for my dreams... this one, I'm not sure. I have a vague idea, but I'll have to think it through. In the meantime, I FLEW! I always wondered what those dreams were like. Now I know.

Awesome.

Saturday, May 05, 2007

NYC 2:00 AM...

Last night the fabulous Niagaras did what they do and left me baffled, as ever, as to why they are not absolutely plastered on the covers of EW and every other entertainment magazine and why Niagaras videos are not flooding VH1, MTV or any other music station. Don't worry I'm not starting a rant... although I could, I will refrain. (but only because the rant on religion was only a couple of days ago and I want to spare you).

Happy Cinco de Mayo!
The Niagaras at the Rodeo Bar, New York

Instead of the rant, come with me on a late-night walk up Third Avenue from Gramercy to the Upper East Side and let me illustrate why New York is NEW YORK.

There are a lot of bars in the 20s-30s on Third, so walking that strip is always an adventure late at night: simply in terms of navigating through the crowds. Said crowds being more numerous on the street than in any of the bars/clubs along the route as it is late-ish and of course New York no longer allows smoking indoors. If you've ever been in a crowded bar visualize that, with the addition of garbage cans and cars, and you'll have an idea what that little walk is like.

Further up midtown, the 40s, things are deader, because everything there is closed (office buildings, shops, etc.) but there are still a few characters. Like the semi-skateboarding teens. One of whom thought he might 'scare' me by jumping in front of me as I was walking, guess again lightweight. I was on the phone with my friend who was driving out to Long Island after a long day (and trying to stay awake). I was far too engrossed in our conversation to be 'frightened' by some hopped up child from Queens. Puh-leez. I'm sure he was bummed I didn't scream... or flinch. Sorry pipsqueak, try it on someone who was not a juvenile delinquent herself at your age.

In the 50s things are still fairly quiet although I did end up walking behind two little old ladies. Mind you, there's not a soul on the street and I still get caught behind slow walking people. Good Lord, how is that possible?! But more interesting: where in the world were they coming from ... or going to? Dressed to the nines and out on the deserted streets at 2 in the morning.... the possibilities abound. Gotta love it. (I'm guessing the skateboarders wouldn't have frightened them either.)

The 60s were Deader than dead except for the intensely amusing and yet seriously disgusting tableau of two Bridge & Tunnel boys on the phone. These jokers were clearly in the early stages of learning to drink the demon rum (in their case I assume it was Budweiser). They were the type who make St. Patrick's Day a horror show. They were standing in a public phone... I want to say booth, but really they are simply open-ended phone cubbies with 'privacy' dividers. One in each cubbie, talking VERY loudly in obvious fake conversations - they were answering EACH OTHER (boys that's too drunk to try to pull off anything as complex as a fake phone call) while they used these phone cubbies as urinals. Boys: learn to go BEFORE you leave the bar. Also, just because a structure resembles a urinal, doesn't mean it is one. And if I may bring religion in for a moment: thank GOD for cellphones. I will never use a public phone "cubbie" again!

I also stopped to take a photo, since I had my camera with me, of the new bus stop shelters that have been cropping up lately. I love them! They are so colorful, and even marked with the street name (for your convenience). This doesn't look like New York to me, but I likes it any way!!

The 70s saw a few stragglers, all heading downtown as I headed uptown. All was status quo until I hit a store that sells flowers outside. It's a grocery store, and they have a huge street-side flower display. All the buckets of lilacs, tulips, roses (20 for $10!) were off their tiered stands and on the sidewalk while two fellows washed town the shelves. It was surreal and lovely to walk 'through' flowers for 1/2 a block. At the end of the floral walk I passed the guys, one of them flashed the biggest smile and said "hola, how are you" and handed me a rose! Night people sticking together. Tell me that's not New York City at its finest!

This was all on the east side of the street: imagine what was going on across Third Avenue!

Not long after the rose incident I was home, and Basil actually deigned to go out as it was 3 in the morning: thus he could avoid the damaging rays of the sun. Gotta watch the wrinkles. This dog is seriously cracked. But look who raised him. Poor thing, considering he lives with me, his emotional state is pretty damned good.

There you have it. The Niagaras, a lovely walk home and a whopping 3 hours sleep. How was your Friday night?

Thursday, May 03, 2007

Reminders for your weekend plans

Friday (May 4):
You know it's time. It's about time indeed.

The Niagaras are at the Rodeo Bar Friday. No cover. Just fun. Click the links for info!

Despite how it seems....this blog is not sponsored by The Niagaras.

I do recommend you order the quesadilla .... and buy one of their cds as a souvenir of how much fun you had. Just sayin'.

Saturday (May 5):
Not only Cinco de Mayo, but also Free Comic Book Day!

Wow, that's a lot of business right there. Go pick up your free comics and then celebrate! Viva Mexico!

Sunday (May 6):
I got nothin' for you. I have my own stuff to do, you're on your own my darlings. But after Friday night with the Niagaras and Saturday with the comics and the fiesta-ing.... might be nice to take a nap on Sunday, huh?.... Of course I could recommend church on Sunday, but... you don't want me to get started on THAT topic again. Or do you?

Wednesday, May 02, 2007

This is why organized religions piss me off


This is an actual sign outside a church on Park Avenue in New York City. I was passing it on my walk home from a stooopidly full day. I was going to let it go, but thanks to the wonder that is cell phone camera technology I thought why let it go when you can rampage about it? Ta-Da!

Anyone who has ever been near me when the topic of religion comes up knows that it is best to steer clear... unless they're in the mood for a big ol' rant. Which, naturally, I try to make as amusing as possible. If I've learned only one thing in this life it's this: if you want people to listen to you bitch and moan you'd damned well better make them laugh at the same time. It's the golden rule.

Whether that will hold true here is another story.

I look at this sign and I shudder. But not out of fear of the 'everlasting punishment', because I think that's absolute BULLSHIT. It's an unbelievably clever psychological marketing ploy that has been used with giddy success for as long as there have been organized religions. How better to control people than by telling them that they will burn in eternal hellfire unless they tow the line? It's Goddamned GENIUS! Said line being whoever happens to be in power at the time. And let's be honest: organized religion is not about spirituality, never was, never will be. It's about getting people to fork over their valuables, be it property, cash or just their freedom of thought.

I have the utmost respect for anyone who thinks out their spiritual beliefs and tries to lead a good, ethical life by those beliefs. Yes, even if those beliefs coincide with an organized religion. I have no respect for people who are brainwashed at an early age and have never given their spiritual beliefs a second thought because they "Know it all" already because it's WHAT THEY WERE TAUGHT.

Well. If I believed everything I was taught I'd be in one f-ing helluva mess. I would believe that I could become pregnant from the slightest kiss from a boy, I would believe ice freezes faster if you make it with boiling water, I would believe that it is better never to ask for anything because if you ask you will never be given it, I would believe that giving my money to the catholic church so that the pope could have a new dress would feed the poor, I would believe that it is okay to beat your wife when you're drunk, I would believe it is okay to lie to people who love you, I would believe that if you put wine in a paper cup and hide it in the cupboard that no one will ever believe you are an alcoholic, and I'd believe that you could commit any heinous act under the sun and as long as you said a good act of contrition to a man behind a screen wearing a long black dress that you would be forgiven and go to heaven... and I'd believe that if you ate meat on a Friday you'd go to hell (of course that was only up until Vatican II.) Kee-RIST.

Bull... may I say... SHIT.

Okay, see this is what happens. I get a little ... um... riled.

I have some issues.

I think the whole concept of tax exempt organizations bullying and frightening people with their hypocrisy and self-serving 'interpretations' of the word of god is the most despicable of crimes and it has gone on and on for centuries. How many people have been killed in the 'name of god'? Millions. And for what? Break it down: for power and wealth. That's all.

I may be mistaken, but as far as I know there is a commandment that is pretty universal throughout all the start-ups of these religions. The basic premises that they begin with (all of which sound like they're on the right track... until you get humans involved). It goes something like "thou shalt not kill". Yet how many have been killed simply for having differing viewpoints from the religion du jour?

Exactly.

Well. I'm sure I'm going to be burning in that fiery ol' lake in hell. I can smell the brimstone now. Yum!!! Everlasting punishment? Kiss my shiny white Irish ass.

Tuesday, May 01, 2007

Update Time!

Law & Order: Criminal Intent -- Rocketman
featuring the talented Charissa Chamorro (that's her on the right)

A little while back I made mention of some exciting doin's amongst my friends and such.

I'm very excited to announce that tonight you can see #1 on that list come to fruition. Take a look here to see a brief clip of
Charissa Chamorro as Lt. Sandy Delgado on Law & Order: Criminal Intent.

Read about it here.

Then tune in to NBC tonight at 9PM (Eastern) and watch the whole episode.
OH HE MADE HER CRY! BAD ASTRONAUT!

If you can't watch: Tivo, DVR or old-school videotape it and watch it later.

Isn't this great?

You bet yer ass it is!

So get out your space diapers and watch!