reasons I dont like being a grownup

I have to go to the dentist because a filling came out. Its a tiny filling but my tongue obsesses over it .Now its starting to get a little achey.Puke.

I have to get a new dishwasher .The repair guy came a few weeks ago and said that my machine was a piece of crap and that I might as well get a new one for it would be cheaper than repairing it. I have been ignoring the smell the crappy machine has been making. In a couple of days I will use my fathers,I hate the holidays-payoff check and buy a new machine instead of something fun like cute boots or the complete Kids in the Hall DVD collection.

The house will not be cleaned up magically by older adults unless I pay them. This includes the vomit my bulimic cat produces.

There is a kitty in heat outside my building. It is loud and sounds like it is in pain. I can comfort my self that there will be a happy ending.That some nice old lady with a kerchief will adopt her,take her home and serve her cream out a little saucer.No this kitty will have a miserable time till she gets laid and creates other miserable kittys.

I just ate too much brie.There was no one to tell me to stop it, save some brie for other people. No I feel icky because all the brie was for myself.

I lovely teased an old friend and she didn't understand fully that I was joking and her feelings were kind of hurt. So I had to apologise. And that all sucks.

I suspect I will want more brie in an hour or so.

Ive been bad.

Haven't written here recently.I give it up to a combination of recently joining Facebook and the holidays.Its the best I can come up with.

So I am thinking about community. What makes one and what makes it still years and years later. I spent x-mas up in Sara toga where a branch of cousins live. We have this tradition of every two years alternating where we spent the holiday events, one year small local, the other big east coast splash. This was that year. Everyone I grew up with who is still alive was there. Except dad for obvious reasons. And my brother. Because his wife redecorated this year and wanted to stay and home and show off her new floor tile. I am not worried about my nieces growing up with these values.Nope, not one little bit.

So anywho,there we all were. And we are doing the present thing that last all day with breaks for eating good hard salami and a pick up of folks at the airport. I see some of these people at best once a year.But here we are spending allot of cash on one another. And we are good at it. We know our tastes and styles.We enjoy each other very much. How did this happen that the glue stuck?We are still a strong group.

Then last night I went to a bash that a high school friend family has been holding forever. It involves two things that make a party work: the son of the family does lighting for stage and the dad was a puppeteer ( did things with Muppets!) so the decorations are so extreme it shoots joy.They also make this killer champagne punch with Bing Cherry's. Smiley faces.

So there is this clump of us who have known each other from 25 years ago.Some of us have been more in touch than others. Its mostly the,I saw you at so and sos party two years ago-right?, sort of thing.And we are catching up ,pleased with our grownup self's.And E ( who is leaving Aids research to do massage and body work!) says she is tired and wants to go sit down. So we all go into our old friends youth bed room.Our verging on middle aged self's are sitting on the floor,on the bed.Chat -chat-chat go we. We are fully our selves again. At one point her brother peeks in the door and says,"Spooky. Haven't thought I would see this sight again."

We are a bonded group.Sealed.How did that happen?Was it that we knew each other in our growing up?Could such a dynamic happen now? I am a member of different community's presently. In 20 years will I still look at any of them as still mine?

This is as deep as I go on one cup of coffee on a Sunday morning.

A thought

When is settling a statement of growing up vs giving up hope in finding what you really want?

In shoes purchases. What did you people think I meant?

It takes so little

I am in bunny dance mode this afternoon. Nothing remarkable has happened. But its just this pleasant feeling of hope. The border moved out this morning. So now I am cleaning sheets ,refilling the closet with my coat,an over all reclaiming of my home. I did the next to impossible task of finding the final gifts I needed at a site called www.sickonsin.com, where I got fab tshirts for both my sibling and 9 year old niece. I also got word that not only is my mother going to make to Chrismas,she is bringing the dog.And the hotel will let the dog stay with us!

God bless us everyone!

Facebook and PMS creates middleaged teenager

I am just aware that I am in a totally pissy mood. Sort of swept up on me. In part it was just that kind of piss making day. My mother called me this morning and drilled me about my frustration about not being able to lose weight.This has been going on since the thyroid went wacky a few years back. Now I am completely healthy , my blood work couldn't be better, not an ounce moves. My gynecologist doesn't have any ideas. Every book I have read says that basically I would have to exercises about an hour and half a day and limit my calorie intake to about 1500 calories to cause any change. Some how I don't see myself doing that.

But Mom is fixated on there must be someone out there who knows something.That can do something. I expressed sure, Jackie Suzanne covered them in Valley of the Dolls. A friend who has also battled weight issues through out her life recently spoke wistfully is Crank was all that bad for you. I know my mother is just transferring her lack of control of health issues in her household on to me . But this was just getting to me. Particularly when a certain person who I hated in middle school , who has "Friended " me recently has taken to posting a bunch of hot photos of herself as result of a low carb diet. OK this may have been the start of the crappy day.

There was also a visit to the post office that involved the rejection of the box I was sending my nieces birthday presents in. The computer stopped for no real reason at all in the middle of the day, and then sort of magically started up again, just to fuck with me. A 2 presents I planned to the last detail about will not be here in time for the holiday. And then Facebook.

Do grownups forget about hurting other peoples feelings? Did no one grow up a WASP? One group I am social with, not close with, but am social, had this big party this weekend and the crowd chose to post about every 5 minutes of action. I know everyone is these pictures. I was not invited. I am not sure I would have wanted to be there but it would have been nice to have been asked. Another group from my history is having a big bash this weekend. There are regular RSVP postings. I have not been close with these people in a quite sometime but ,again, I know everyone. I have not been asked. Ouch.Does no one think of these affects?

And there is a former classmate of mine cheerfully aggressively promoting her practice. I think she is way over pushy. I am totally jealous.

Happy little consumer

The day was made for upkeep. I have this long term computer update task that is too boring to even go into , other than to say it will probably take a good part of a month if not more to complete. A big part of the day was taking on that elephant.
I also cleaned . I don't know why but I can't get into that task when there are house guests. Also my energy is now higher in the morning. And with the tenor sleeping until noon, this has not worked. But the tub and oven are now scrubbed. But let me put this out there, if you are a healthy adult, but you have a case of the runs, it is your moral responsibility to wash the toilet after your use. I am not pointing fingers or naming names. I'm just stating my view point.

Other highlights : worked out today for the first time for almost 2 weeks( see tenor issue again.)
Felt great. Have recently joined Eharmony again since they are now taking gay members and not being fascists. I sort of like this system because it is a game. Every morning they give you 5 profiles to check over. But even this is a process that can be discouraging. This personal site is one of the more expensive ones and also the main one where the marketing is about finding someone who wants a commitment beyond next Thursday. The bulk of the men they sent me not only don't fully fill out their profiles, they don't even bother to post a picture. And the one guy this week I am sort of interested in talking to runs a cafe in Brooklyn and has no time to talk much less meet for a drink at this time of year. Boys, please show a little effort and free up the schedule if you want to involve the likes of me.

I did take a break to run down to Soho to visit a craft show a friend was selling stuff in. I scored very well. Didn't complete the holiday purchases completely but on the right direction. When I am finished here I will order Indian , doing my part to keep the small businesses of my neighborhood going. Its a great responsibility but for lamb and yogurt I am willing to take on the burden.

So maybe it's time for me to see a shrink again.

When I was a small child I had an emotional nervous stomach. Meaning that because I was living in a house where one was not allowed to express anger, when ever things pissed me off, I would puke. This was affective in many ways. First off, I would get out of school ,always a very good move. Secondly the drama that was going on would normally come to an end in the name of cleaning up the gacking child. And probably most importantly, I would get some caregiveing and attention I was desperate need of.

As it happens, random vomiting is happening again. But I realise its not all that random. The day after Thanksgiving my Mom and I were in Woodstock doing some early holiday shopping. We were in this wonderful hip- retro art gallery/craftsy shop . It had things like handmade over priced but very attractive pottery items that served no use at all. The sales woman was from another time as well. She totally ignored us the entire time we were there. Its nice to know in this economy, retail workers can still be rude and oblivious. Anyway, the only time I could get her to make eye contact with me was when I asked her where the toilet was.

As I was kneeling in this black and white tribute to 60s cover art, I wondered what I could have done to myself to cause this. I also appreciated that if I was going to do this in a public bathroom ,this was not a bad place to do it. We called are day to a close , went home , I crawled into bed, mom brought me dry toast.The next day was the first time my father asked me anything about my well being in the time I was there. Familiar........

Yesterday I went to a mediocre production at Lincoln Center called Saturn Return. It had a decent cast,OK direction, but the play was sort of lame. It was a kind of man looks back on his history looking at versions of himself at different ages thing. Think Christmas Carol but without any likable Tiny Tim or Scrooge types. Just miserable people. IN fact the main character first has an manic depressed codependent relationship with his wife,then his adult daughter, then the caretaker he hires to take care of him. And he is kind of a jerk.

I started first yawning uncontrollably. Then this combination of queasiness and headache hit. I kept trying to see if there was a way to get the hell out of there. But I was blocked by the guy sitting next to me.And wouldn't you know, it was one of those long self indulgent things with no intermission. I just kept praying please let this bastard kill him self so we can all go home. When I did get to my place, zapped a potato in the microwave to have something to calm my stomach. Ate and then puked 2 minutes later. What in this piece of theater could have caused such a dramatic reaction? I am stupefied.

The NOISE NOISE NOISE!

Between the running of the 100 year old toliet and the tenor, I presently have the loudest apartment it all the land.

In which our authoress considers if she is fit to live with others

So I take in borders from time to time.Largely to clear some bills, but also to face my hermit issues. I was talking to friend last night who works for the parks department. He feels the fact that he works outside all day in interaction with others prevents him from falling into bad love affairs. He says he meets new people constantly, singles, family's, little kids , dogs. And then when he comes home to lonely apartment , he is blissful with the isolation. He doesn't have a single pang of craving others. His out look is very familiar.

I gratefully and happily take care of others all through out my day in one way or another. When its me time, I wear it like comfy sweater. Its not that I don't want to be with others, I just don't often have that NEEED to be with you people. When I do get that view of desperation for company, I start looking at what is missing in my larger life issues.

So I have this border right now who is perfectly pleasant. He is a friend of a friend, a tenor in town for the month for auditions and such. But he is getting to me. First of all its that recollection of what it is like to be with theater people. His personality is looming. He needs to be seen as entertaining and knowledgeable at all times. He seems until noon. I wake up 7ish now I am a grownup. This means I tip toe around my place half the day not wanting to disturb him. He does not go out much because he doesn't have much money. So he stays in his room and watches TV. It makes me self conscious. He turns on all the lights and then forgets to turn them off. He leaves my favorite coffee cups at the edges of bookshelves and tables, waiting for gravity to smash them into a million bits.

Am I sure I am ready to date again and have to potentially share my cave?

Um, ah, do we have to do this now?

I just got off the phone with Mom. As faithful readers may recall, she was in town a couple of days ago to get some doctors time in. Part of which was the regular checking that one does not have breast cancer thing that all good girls must do after a certain age. She got the call today that she does not have cancer but her breast implants are leaking and need to be taken out now.

Kind of numb presently because I sort of don't feel like going through this. My Mom got the implants back when I was in middle school. She is a classically beautiful petite woman. But she never felt that way. And though she never said it ,I always felt it did not help to have a daughter whose boobs were bigger than hers by the time the kid was 11. What can I say, different grandmothers. Have I not had moments when I Would have killed puppy's to fit into her size 4 pants? But I felt this unspoken guilt about my chest causing her to feel bad about her self.

Then she had a bad reaction, started bleeding internally. Had to go back to the hospital. Chief memory of that was my father falling on the floor sobbing in terror and self hatred that he might lose her and that it was his fault for not being able to get it into her brain that how amazing she was. I had to take care of him while she was in surgery. Was sort of a peak moment of awareness that I was not having a Brady childhood.

So now the fun bags are poisoning her. She is searching for doctors.Waiting for people to call her back. And instead of expressing fear or worry, all she can talk about are her obligations to her various causes. And my father. She has not told my father yet because she does not want to worry him. Just my aunt and I know. Again. Leave the men out. Don't let them support you.Don't count on them.And she is considering getting replacements!!!! She is 75 friggin years old and she is talking about loss of physical self esteem if she doesn't have fake tits.

I can't even begin to know where to approach this at the moment.

Books to consider not reading

Just finished Schultz, the hit bio from last year about the author of the Peanuts. Ends up he was depressed, deeply insecure man, incapable of hugging his children until he knew he was dying, got back at his first wife by basing Lucy on her, and never believed that anyone loved or liked him.

Snoopy seems tainted .

What does this add to?

Spent most of the day with Mom. Mom only comes into town now for doctor's appointments but trys to make a proper visit out of it. So she catches up with a couple of friends, does a museum, eats food that my father won't . It's a full 24 hours but a mostly cheerful one.

So much of our time now is spent on what is wrong and how does one make it better. She thinks much of the time in terms of the logical. For example we are figuring out how one could resign the downstairs so my father wouldn't be so isolated. Good practical stuff.

She wants to know I am not to feel overloaded with my parents needs.I share that most of the time it's not them that is the problem, its my issues with my brother and sister in law. Using the busyness of their lives, they have all but dropped out of anything to do with the care of my folks. They are not even coming to Christmas this year, largely because my sister in law redecorated the first floor this summer and wants to celebrate her construction crews skills.

When we were growing up and things were bad, my brother's survival skill was to leave. Pre-drivers licence, he would go up to his room , turn on the stereo to some sensitive white rocker ala Springsteen/Seeger, and block out the pain the floor below was producing. When he did get to drive, he was just gone. It probably is what kept him sane. I felt abandoned. It was only about 5-7 years ago that I realised in a shrinks office that my unavailable man issues don't all stem from my dad.

Now he is half way across the country being the good family man. No one can blame him since he is being so kind and responsible to his brood. Except that there are days like today when my mother doesn't have proper eye glasses for one reason or another,is walking around in her perspiration shades looking like Jackie O sister, and I have to read her everything so she can function. That my dad has a self pity fit on the phone, wants her to cut her day of NYC re cooperation so that he doesn't feel lonely. That I have to take care of all this kind of regressive stuff and I have no peer to talk to about it.

He never calls or writes except for something like sending a holiday/birthday wish list for his daughters. He doesn't want to know about the bad stuff. Never has. Sometimes I feel so stuck and lonely and there is so little room for change.

Meanwhile today I got an email from Fresh Direct. It seems that a quote of mine in a survey about their service will be used in an advertisement. So the world is acknowleding me for my greatness somewhere.

Contrasting intincts = brain hurt

I was watching Christane Northrup on the PBS special that they always seem to show at pledge time. But now that is always seems to be a constant state of pledge time, how is one to know the difference? But I digress. Northrup is a doctor for all things women parts and is wise, kind and seems to have an handle on aging being a positive thing. She quotes my first coaching teacher throughout the show. And even though I have some left over baggage about that particular woman ( like her claim that mental illness, drug addiction, homosexuality are all choices that a person makes to keep life interesting....) ,Northrup has a way of editing out the crazy stuff and recalling the mind blowing -life change goodies.

She talked about the capacity to receive, in particular pleasure. Most women of a certain age and younger suck at this. We are motivated towards self creation, discipline, good work ethic. We give tons. We do not get this receive thing at all. And if one does not know how to receive , one will attract those who do not know how to give. ( Insert appropriate sound affect of recognition. )

I would like to declare that I am sick of being broke while being responsible. I am sick of things in my home breaking and my being scared about how I am going to fix said things. I am good at what I do,damn good. I deserve to have a level of abundance. But even writing this makes my stomach twitch. I am a do-gooder wasp. While I am a capitalist, I am a thrift store one. There is all this baggage about asking for more from the Gods. Or even those who know me. I am considering doing a very simple mailing to those who know me to push for additional clients, and it makes me so scared. Not about succeeding, but how I will come off. Abrasive, aggressive,unfeminine, self involved.

Oh they raised me right those kin of mine!

Update

I had not realised how long it has been since I wrote here .Almost a week for goodness sake.Was up doing the holiday/parent upkeep thing. Being up in the country in their home always seems to produce a sort of Narnia like quality for me.Meaning that I step through the door and my reality is briefly left behind to be fully in their world, full well knowing that my life will be ready for me as soon as I step out the door again. It requires a certain level of faith and letting go of control.

Nothing dramatic to report from the visit. I thought I would do a little gratitude list from the trip,sort of an overview .

I am grateful that.......The pies I cooked turned out well and helped kill so bad politics happening in the land of co-housing.

That the weather was still nice enough for for proper walks and observations about holiday fishermen and ducks.

The dog choose to sleep with me every night I was there.

That dad has discovered YouTube.That for how ever awful he know feels , he has discovered new music he loves, including a strange infatuation with Jerry Lee Lewis.

That Mom and I are so friggin healthy, at least emotionally together. That we can look back on the ugly teen years and not have them overwhelm us with a case of the yucks any more. That she didn't marry an actor.

The watching of the parade and a Charlie Brown Thanksgiving still gives high levels of joy.

The purchase of a potential very cool gift for my younger niece, an interlocking block puzzle of paintings of classic beautiful red headed women.She may not get it now, but hopefully she will see images of her self someday.

That I have been able to put aside my angry and resentment of my brother for 8 minutes or so to send him 2 birthday presents, a Lucinda Williams live album and a book of unfinished Tolkien story's, that are too cool for school and given with love. I can pick up my nasty feelings at the door later.


That Mom wrapped up containers of turkey and rocking spiced mashed potatoes so I could eat them when I came home. No cooking or take out for Suz last night.

That I came home to find my home clean ,safe , warm and friendly. That I had made the smart move of tidying up before I left so I would have such an environment. That my so to be 16 year old cats were pleased to see me, desiring my affection and attention, but not anxious or neurotic.

That I got my ass out of the house last night, ran to the store so that I would have strong coffee, milk and cereal this morning.

That I woke up to the sound of rain on the air conditioner, feeling safe and content. How amazingly happy I am at about my life this morning.


And flannel pajamas.May we never forget the wonders of warm jammies.

Practicing what I preach

In the name of how much I kick the asses of my clients romantic lives,how much I force them to put themselves out there, I am today getting new pictures taken for a new personal ad. I am trying to be positive about this, considering that my latest photo id makes me look like a double chinned bad ass. I believe I may need to drink several glasses of sherry to make this event mildly painless.

Name dropping for a purpose

I would like to preface this post by saying I am having a super duper allergy day. I get these sometimes when the weather goes back and forth rapidly. My right eye is making suggestions about leaving my face.There were little pointy things biting into my far head this morning.You could not see them but I swear they were there. The tum-tum is pissed off too.This is to give you a little warning about what kind of content of self pity we may be heading into this afternoon.

Last night I was fighting with staying in or out. Pro-out, a bar I sometimes visit was doing gender bender kariochi night. My border and his 20 year old girlfriend were being over the top with their cuteness. Pro-staying in, it was 28 degrees out side in the middle of November, I had just made a lemon pie, and there was going to be a special on Astaire Cooke on PBS. Pastry and English men won.

Mister Cooke was my dad's friend while I was growing up. They worked together on some projects and deiced they sort of adored each other. They were working class boys who got ahead in the very elitist of worlds by being the cleverest of gents you could meet. If I picked up the phone and heard that voice I would be so grateful because I knew my dad would be laughing and energetic for at least a solid half hour. What did they talk about? Jazz, golf, Lauren Bacall? A little of all of that probally. I think mostly they just had fun picking each others brains.

Which brings us to dating and expectations and feeling a little sad. The last bunch of times I have been out and about being social in groups of men I have come away with a very clear idea of why I am single. Dreariness. Let's put aside those who are mentally ill, socially nonfunctional, the addicts, the non-bath takers. Frankly, that all ready takes up a large portion of wading pool. I look to men with an unreasonable desire to be intellectually dazzled. its not just can you make me laugh, but can you make me think ? can you hold my attention with how you express yourself? Can you help open me up to some way of looking at the world that I have never seen before? What nice average computer tech can live up to that ?

I blame this on the fact that I used to fetch Cokes for a man who was played by Cookie Monster on Monsterpiece Theater. That I heard him talk about how the expectations of being an good American could not only be seen as an a responsibly but an art form, a craft. That I heard the same man tell story's about how Charlie Chaplin was going to be the best man at his wedding, but stood him up for a hot weekend in bed with Paulette Goddard. Could one blame Chaplin? Can i blame me for still hoping?

A Mike Myers Veclept moment

Just got back from my Quaker meetings celebration of the 21 year its been overseeing gay marriage. Don't know what to say. Its not a verbal thing. Couples who truly love each other,overcoming culture, family's, and other fears and hatreds, calmly talking about their commitments. And then recalling their vows and weddings.

OK I'm a mess again. Talk amongst yourselves.

hermit-anom

So I have had this roomer for about a week or more and so far its going fine. There is this build in relief about the fact that there is a built in deadline. He will be gone before Christmas. Then I can walk around half naked while talking to myself again. And that will be the true Christmas miracle.

I once took a personality test where the results kind of pleased and disturbed me. First off it said that I had one of the rarest types. I don't know if they say that to everyone, like a personality testing," I never felt like this before ." ,sort of thing. But it seems I had this weird ass leader /teacher mindset where I can put my attention on the well being of others for long periods of time and then need a certain amount of isolation to regroup.

This sounded right on the money and then I saw the list of some of the famous people who shared this out look. Ralph Nader, Oprah, a few other biggies who have in fact impacted the world in huge ways and arguably made some peoples lives better. But not one of them was married or had kids. In fact you got the sense that all of them would be a royal pain to live with, that when they came home from saving the planet they would be kind of freaky about the towels or the magazine racks.

So what I am noticing this time around is that everyone Else's clutter is more annoying and unreasonable than yours. Where they put their coffee mug is stupid. Yours in logical. Them getting the bathmat soaked- moron behaviour, you getting the bathmat soaked- simple mistake that could happen to anyone. I think this living with others from time to time is life saving.

Why do you people never listen to me??!!??

I am dyslexic. I think my spelling here proves that. I have spent my whole friggin life having to explain this in one way or other to people and they don't get it. They think I'm lazy. Or that I'm not trying hard enough. Or how can this be so hard for me,I'm so smart. So let's lay it out show we. :

It's like I have a wired crossed in my brain that sometime gets in the way of communicating imformation , usually in a a + b= c way. So a list of things that are a struggle for me.

Direction. I have next to no sense of right/left. Don't even get me on the east/west/north/south business. This is the reason I don't drive. I do not wish to kill some one or get lost forever on some number labeled highway.

Spelling. Hooked on phonics is a theory.

Anything involving having to throw, catch, kick objects at a certain time.

Those stupid bastard memory games.

Technical directions. Bastard instruction manuals. I tryed to take a computer class, within 12 minutes I was completely lost and weeping.

Having to clean the house, take care of papers and any other day to day activities done in a linear way. I need to do in Mary Poppins approach. make a game out of or I go nuts.

Folding, cutting or drawing in the lines.

I am very gifted at human feeling, artsy farsty stuff. I want to make enough money and rule the planet so others will do my bidding . And do all the above listed bullshit or be shot for making me feel like a jerk.

Wow doesn't take much to bring out the inner 8 year old,huh?

There goes the neighborhood

About a month ago I noticed that 2 stores on my corner, a crappy computer games/discount jewelry store and a 99 cent joint had both closed their doors. Then it became clear that the new owners were combining the two spaces. I have been musing for weeks what might be going in there. I assumed it was another bank. I only hoped it would be one of my branch, as the closest one is a 11 block hike.

Discovered yesterday it looks like a grocery store is going in. Happy bunny dance was my first thought. To maybe be able to by produce and meat that doesn't look like a questionable health risk within walking distance of my home! Who had thunk it! Delighted I was at what the potential of a shopping experience that could offer more than discount Dominican lemon soda.

But then liberal angel on my left shoulder smacked me in the head. There is a family grocery literally right across the street from me. They are kind, they are patient.They have just done work on their store,clearly invested money. They are doomed. In a million years they could not compete with a D'agistinos. They don't a great selection but they have one. Manys the night they have saved my ass with a can of cat food or carton of milk. What is going to happen to them?

Then I saw something I thought I would never see in the Heights or Inwood. The big inflatable Union rat. In front of the new stores construction. There were the strikers. I love these guys. I think Unions are the only thing that keeps this country soul working at times. I am reactionary. I assume they are right. I also assume that most of the work that is done in this neighborhood has some serious illegal workers running in. Having a green card or a Visa is sort of like having a cashmere sweater, nice but unlikely. And if you do have one, it was probably a gift from a relative. To be expecting a organised working force up here is to expect a completely different reality than we have come across. This is the neighborhood of immigrants from the very beginning. Where are they all going to go now?

HELP!!!

I had this really great topic to write about and I have completely forgotten it.This is because I have spent the last hour rebooting, cleaning and begging my computer to function. My computer dude from this summer is not returning my begging calls .I hope he, his wife ,kids and dog all have the stomach flu.If anyone knows the number of a computer person who makes house calls to Washington Heights,please pass along. This is costing too much of my life!

Things to be happy about

A roomer who when he sings in the shower, actually knows how to sing.

How good a person is it nessary to be?

A few days ago a she named A called me sounding very stressed asking for help. Someone with mututaly know in a social circle just called her threatening suicide then hung up. She wanted to know what was moraly obligated to do.

The person who claimed they were going to jump from the George Washington bridge, 1. is about twice her age, 2. has been given numerous phone numbers of low cost doctors and therapists from a varity of people all ready and refuses to work with any of them, 4. has been diagnost with a mental condition and refuses to get medicated for it, and 5. threatened to off themself this summer when it was clear all they wanted was attention.And finally, and possibly most importantly, 6. is someone that this circle doesn't consider to be a real friend, just a rather sad unhappy soul that they have taken on out of pity and sympathy rather than deep care. Sort of like an needy ugly but friendly dog begging for scraps in your neighborhood but you don't want to take home.

I offered some advice but the strongest one I gave was about creating boundries. That in what I have seen of this person, they will take and take till they push the other person away from drainage. That this group is not able to save him, he needs to do it himself. She said I was the only person she talked to do that brought that up. I am wondering if I am harsh or cruel. Last night I was in an bar and totaly randomly ended up sitting next to the would be jumper( of course he didn't intend to do it.....) and I was probally pretty rude. I talked to him as minimaly as I possible could. I refused to ingage in anything that would bring me into his reality. My iroon curtain was up.

In Quakerism they use the discription to see the Light within others. To me this is about trying consititantly to acknoweldge teh humanity in others, even when its hard or umpopular.So we have this impressive human rights history, unground railroad,suffergetes, my meeting was the first organised religious community that held a gay wedding in the state on NY.But when that is your values, you also bring in the crazys. So in worship today, one unstable person after another gave messages. All with that self involved, my suffering should realy interest you ,untreated bi-polar way. Its bad when your weekly time talking to God invloves you wanting others to shut the hell up.But I watch others who seem to be almost saintly with these people, patient,and kind, and willing to engage.I feel like a bitch on a stick.


Twice a week I work a job were I regurally talk to mentaly ill people looking for legal help, with things that may or may not have to do with their condition. It's gotten so half the time I can just listen to their recordings on Voicemail and can tell how off they are. I help them as much as I can but I cut their storys short.I get the miminal imformation I need to get them to the next place, then move them out the door. I wonder if there are others in my life who would be more tender.

So I am thinking today about how much is enough. I get pissed at Republican apathy, they should pull them selves up by their boot straps , crap. But I was so pissed when my conversationw with a freind on the subway today was interupted by crazy jesus woman looking for cash and followers of her cause. If I was a good Christian would I have given her 5 bucks, talked to her, given her an 800 number of a group that might get her lythium? or is it ok to take care of my self before I put my attention on others?

I blame everything on Facebook.

So I am now a addict of the site after being a member for a week. Besides the updates from what I like to think of as my day to day friends, I think the thing that makes me the most happy is hearing how folk I have loved in my wacky history are doing. The little comments on the day prove they are still hysterical, the articles postings show they are still passionate verging on obsessed about the things they care about.The fact that they join groups like MST 3000 show they are still geeks. Oh I love my peeps!

My theory is that when you become active in your history, your history shows up. In the most peculiar ways. Last night I went to this Irish bar with a pal to check out a fiddler she has been emailing via Match.com. Sort of single women's tag team. So we go this pit in a basement in midtown ,listening to a cover band of rapidly aging hip daddy's playing Dr John numbers .Oh the glamour of NYC living! And then I spot Ray.

I knew him from my acting days.Had not seen him in about a decade. One of those ,OH MY GOD ,HOW ARE YOU?, moments in life. He looked exactly the same. Still the same generous spirit. Turn around and he is bringing me drinks, wanting to know about my life and work.Standing there thinking, what a dear dear man. Didn't I have a crush on him once?Yes I did?

When I was about 24 I was totally Jonesing on good old Ray for about a month or 2. It was so easy to crush on people back then. Between hormones and the bulk of choices,I was blissing on boys in a fairly constant level. He was decent, he was charming, he was not the total vacant lot pretty boys that I kept meeting at auditions. But I knew something was not going to happen there for him instinctively and I think that lack of fulfillment of future dreams turned me off.

So here he was ,still hanging out supporting his friends mediocer gigs, working as a tour guide for a company that is known to be the sleaziest in town, doing stand up gigs -not getting paid, dating a cute adoring girl that was at least 15 years younger than him. Even his flyer for his upcoming gig depressed me. He is exactly the same place I left him at.

But Ray is clearly happy. He loves what he is doing, he was bouncing around to the Dire Straits tribute he pals were laying down. He was cuddling his adorable gal,offering everybody his snacks he had brought along. Should I be so supior about what I have done with my life? Am I as happy as Ray ? Maybe,today, but I think he may win the over all contest.

Why I will never be Americas next supermodel

If I had to regularly sit for almost 3 hours to get my hair done, there would be a shooting spree focused on beauty care specialists.

man vs the machine

I am presently waiting for Raul, the prince of computer repair men to call me back .It seems that my computer has caught my flu.It refuses to take in the slightest but of new information.I have cleaned this thing out at least 5 times today and still have had it freeze repeatedly. Too much of my life is being taken away.

Meanwhile the dishwashers timer is moody. It works but not logically. I find hitting random buttons works as well as anything to get the bloody thing started.

Time /Warner cable system seems to be come progressively slower and more annoying as it becomes more jazzy and digital. There are several Chanel's that don't even bother to show up at times. And there is that weird digital freeze thing that happens with the picture for no reason.

This summer at the family cabin I pulled out a pile of Sears catalogs for my nieces when they decided we were all too boring to live with. They were obsessed. At one point one was fixated at the image of a home projector. Yes people made movies and some times tortured their neighbors by showing them. And then the grownups started talking about when the first VCRs came out.The niece was having a fit.She could deal with the lack of DVDs and movies on demand, but that there was no entertainment one could control on the box was beyond comprehension.

Every few months there seems to be a new toy in need of getting. And every few weeks I am just pissed off at them all.

The world is the size of a hangnail

I finally joined Facebook this week after fighting it for so long.I realised that if I wished to have a social life, this seems to be the only way one does so now adays. So I have been just as happy as can be ,looking up old friends, seeing what people from our mutual histories that they are still in touch with,linking to them.That has felt quite sweet.

What does not feel sweet is the fact a trip through random friend J's friend list showed that he is friends with the last male I was totally apeshit about. Not a clue that was going to hit. But there he was. The last time we spoke was over a year ago and not pleasant on either side. This I think is exactly what I have been avoiding Facebook for. Uncensored history hitting at uncontrolled moments. Damn it to hell.

So naturally I Friended the guy.

The Game

A couple of weeks ago I was having dinner with a friend and some where in the course of the chat it came up that she doubted she would ever date a black man. Flabbergasted I was. How could you be an urban woman and not at least be open to the idea of getting to know someone romantically of a different culture? Wouldn't it at least cut down on the time you are annoyed at the men you all ready know?

Then when we got to talking it was all about the family of origin. Her mom grew up in a conservative Jewish family. It was a part of everything about her.And while my friend is hardly swinging by the synagogue every Saturday, it is a core of how she defines herself as a person walking around on the planet. being with someone of a different race would ,in her mind, contradict with that view of life. And while I thought she might be a little closed minded, I had to respect that.

Then I mentioned I could never date a republican.She said that a mans politics never bothers her. Again , I choked on my sandwich. How could it not, someones votes defines how they see the world, social issues, human rights, their very values! Rant I did. She sweetly smiles and said not nessarly. A person can be a good guy, just be be economically conservative, support a strong military. I grumbled about meeting my brothers sister in laws new husband this summer. darling guy. Republican. He was one of the few people I could stand on this summer family vacation. And then he would make Hillary comments. Nope, couldn't go there.

On election night I spent the evening with another friend watching the returns , excitedly obsessing over ever digit, crushing on Jon Stewart. Her honey was away on business and I asked did he vote ahead of time. She , oh so casually replied that he doesn't believe in voting. My friends are causing me to take more double takes than a Raquel Welch sketch on an old Bob Hope special.

I couldn't even get the words out. I think I said something like,"How could, I mean, when , nowadays, you know, and the thing is, what do you mean, evidence, and you live with, does he know what you feel about the, this year of all years, responsibility, Christ on an Hamburger!"

She said that she has actually dated quite a few men over her life who didn't believe in voting. I said I could never go there. I felt bad about that.That I was putting her down for her values. I can sometimes be just a tinie tiny bit condescending. Shocking huh?

As I am looking to go out actively on the dating thing again I am looking at what are my real values. What are the deal breakers?When I was younger I think I held the banner of excitement and brilliance above all others. So collectively the loves of my life have impressive resumes but little staying power. Now with the gift that come with age, self love, wisdom and neck lines, what do i need now?

Well enthusiasm is mandatory. Apathy and coolness ain't what they used to be. deep unresolved haunting pain is a no go. We all have our wounds but how's about doing some work on them. Some sense of responsibility to the world around them, not just their own person lives and passions. Its great if you are writing the great American novel, but can you recycle your plastics at the same time? And he must bring home oatmeal cookies.

Anouncement

I am drinking my first cup of fresh coffee in about 4 days. The white doves will now be released.

Enough already!

When I was little we went to most wonderful family doctor the world has ever seen. OK, he may have not been that great of a doctor but I think he may have been as fine a person as you could ever come across.First he won my loyalty for not only avoiding criticism of my mother and her career, but actively being interested and supportive of it. He knew she was a feminist and would have conversations with her about Marlyn French novels and politics. This is when we lived in the country and my mom was treated like a leper because of ridiculous idea that a P.H.D might fulfill her more than an herb garden.

He also told my folk that the reason I got sick so much was I hated school. I was too smart for the place, I was miserable, and if I couldn't get out there one way my body was going to help me out the other door. I thought he was a God when he said this. I also hoped that this would help my cause of us moving the hell out of there and back to NYC. Had to wait about 8 years and my parents break up for that .

He also said for my frequent stomach badness I should have Cokes and sucking candies on hand. For that I wanted us to move in with him.

So why the heck am I getting sick so much lately? And in more and more dramatic ways! I don't hate my life. I don't feel out of control. Far from it. From week to week I can say I am getting my act together more and more. I love my work.My friends and community are remarkable. My home is beautiful and comfy. My finances are getting in better and better shape even with the economy. I am almost up to running 3 miles a day. So why the need for repeated violent vomiting sessions?

Louise Hays the New age body connection Goddess talks about the MY TURN connection with colds and illnesses. That in a normal winter most of get ill at some point because everyone else drops at some point,get a little down time, and now you want your turn.I call my parents almost every day and almost every time there is some discussion about their health issues. I say that this doesn't bother me but I am thinking on some level it must. I wonder if on some level my immune system is down because I can't come up with a more original way to get a sense of balance and care coming towards me.
If that is the case, what is a much more pleasant way to do this?

I am the Boss of me

So about a million years ago I took a workshop.I don't know if I can say it's name without being sued but I will just say it rhymed with Borum. It was one of those break you down to build yourself up -EST baby-kind of deals. There was allot of the leader standing in front of the room with a mike yelling at us about our unfulfilled potentials. I recall exercises where you were randomly team with someone else in the group and share something in your life you were struggling with. The guy I was teamed with informed me I would never understand where he was coming from because I clearly read too much.

As much as I can belittle this work , I will say I did get good stuff out of it at the time. The leader was a remarkably gifted woman. But at the end of the long weekend they told us that the next day might possibly be the best of our lives. I tend to be very nervous about such statements. The next day I woke up with the flu complete with a 103 degree temperature. When I told a friend who had also done this work shop at some point in his life about what had happened, he imformed me that I was most stubborn person about her own personal misery he had ever met.

So here we are today with the sprouts of how the world will change potentially for the better.Obama is laying out his cabinet. Friends and family are still giddy with their election night story's. I seemed to have gotten food poisoning on last nights steamed dumplings. A of the day was spent in the fetal shape fighting off the next stomach cramp. Perhaps I should just stop eating food that other people prepare entirely.

I feeling better now but still a little eeh. The problem with being sick most of the day is that one watches too much TV. Which gives one bad ideas. Watching a Gilmore Girls repeat involved those bone shaped women sharing a gigantic order of frys. Now it's all I can think of. This would probably be a sad and pathetic thing to do, have some one bring me fried objects. But I think Obama would be sympathetic.Yes I can!

Oh happy day

I still don't believe it.I still don't believe it. Still want to understand how we did it. Want to understand what has changed. Am still scared. Now I am scared of insane destructive people with rifles. And human frailty. And power hunger. Hearts and dreams being broken.

But am so joyous,hopeful and sleepy.

Hopeful but careful

Back when SNL still was in its funny and entertaining period, they ran a sketch in '92 ' a Clinton town hall meeting where he took questions from the public. A mildly crazed looking woman comes to the mike and says " Governor Clinton, where's my stuff ?"
Clinton starts to respond with sympathetic answers about the economy and health care and the lady interrupts him.
"No , I mean, I see other people with cool stuff. Where is MY stuff ?"

I always thought that summed up the typical American voter. Screw schools, the elderly, street conditions,health care. How can all that get fixed while my still get to have my stuff?My ex- political science professor mother today reassured me that we are most likely going to win the presidential race and both houses. I just realised that I think that will be a first in my life time. I don't know how I will handle it.What can I fall back on if I can't assume the bulk of the USA is a bunch of babies who are the fault for everything?

I guess I will have to go back to blaming my family for everything..........

Stupid food issues

Last night I went to friends Day of the Dead party which would have been fantastic if it werent for my discovery that I am allergic to avocado. The hostess made some of the most rocking guacamole that has ever been my pleasure to consume. As I had not had dinner, I scarfed down allot. About an hour later I was at one with her toilet.

I was trying figure out what was happening to cause this and then I had a flash back of a few years ago going to Mexican place for dinner with friends.They had entrees, I just got the guac' .We went back to their place, where I proceeded to be intimate with their toilet as well. This morning while I was moaning around feeling sorry for myself , I put the two event together and came with GOD DAMN IT!!!!

My childhood had two completely different diets. There was the NYC version that involved parents friends introducing me to the concept that if doesn't smell like home, the eats will be good. There was my rural NJ childhood where all my neighbors looked like Brady's or the Sopranos. The most exotic thing going around there was rice crispie treats. I think these two shaping realities have left me schizo about food. On one hand my favorite going out to dine food of all time is Ethiopian. However about once a year I get a strong Jones for Bologna , American Cheese, coated with Miracle Whip on gooshie white bread.

I am delighted that there are still foods sources I don't know about and have yet to discover. It's like knowing there are great authors I haven't read , great bands to hear play, something to look forward to. But as an adult I have found out that some of these things are not my friends. There were never around growing up so I had to wait til now to have them nail me.

Kiwi makes my face blow up, fresh ripe pineapple gives me the ichies. Add the fact I can not tan, can't deal with any thing in the hot red pepper family, I am the WASPest being on the planet. I will never be able to live on a tropical island. I would be whining all the time about how breadfruit gives me the hives. I am doomed to stay in bogs , hoping that lords of the house will gift us with coal this Christmas.

Soap Box of the Day

There are times when I am concerned that I might be a tad O.C.D.. It doesn't show up in all areas of my life. My desk normally looks likes its having a bulimic situation with papers. But when I care about things I get a little compulsive. I need to have the books, Cd's,DVDs, just so. I also have this list making thing. I have a 20 page wish list on Amazon. This is not for expectation that other people to thrust expensive gifts on me but to keep track of what toys I would give my self if the money elf moved into my guest room.

This also shows up on my favorites links. The Internet is a very dangerous place for someone like me. But when I find a trip I would like to take, a class, a new recipe, a cute independent dress designer, I save the site for the hope that one day I will have all the cash and time in the world to indulge in consumerism and interests. I have about 2,500 such links saved.

I don't have a problem. I can quit anytime I want.

This morning when I was having my regularly scheduled, avoid responsibility's for as long as possible time, I was visiting some of those sites. Randomly I discovered how many of these cool websites had gone the way of the dinosaur. One by one closing down.Sad,sad,sad.

So here is my self righteous thought for the upcoming holiday season. We all know that money and spending is going to suck in the coming months. Can we at least put our budgets into people who might really need us? Amazon and Saks will be here next year.Allot of smaller businesses won't. Can we make a real effort to buy local for our gifts? And if you live in a neighborhood like mine where that pretty much mean getting everyone day glow statutes of the Virgin Mary, focus on the smaller places on line.Visit Etsy,check out the back of Bust magazine for their oh so hip retailers. Give your cash to someone that 40 dollars for mom's spiffy woolen cap may make break them this season. I know only about dozen people read this thing so far but you are all clever and have social connections.Spread the word, buy cute stuff from the little guy. Besides, don't the mall give you hives like me?

Physician heal thy self.

Was having drinks with some friends last night in a snazzy wine bar in my hood I have been hearing about for ages but finally got my lazy ass over see for myself to visit. Review : loved the setting and staff, unexcited about my ten dollar glass of Spanish wine.

So after the catch ups about work and life the discussion goes to the almost inevitable place of dating between men and women. The women were taking the stance that while guys may say they want women who are smart ,funny and even the aggressors, that is not who they end up with. Those are the qualities that they choose for friends, not long term lovers. The men were kind of blown away with this news. Not true they cryed, they love it when a woman asks them out, makes them laugh, has something going on behind the eyes. The females were not buying it. After a while we were just spinning in circles.

What I think what was happening is the results of unhealed hurt feelings. When you take a risk and not only you feel you didn't get a reward for it, but you are punished, it can seem like evidence that risk was a pretty stupid idea. So for example, I can tell the tale of being very attracted to the Young Photographer. He was snazzy, quick wit,sensitive outlook , had a large collection of female friends - which I always take as a good sign. He was groovy.We were smiling at each other for a while . But when I took the flirting to a more direct - No I'm serious,I feel for you,Chaka Khan- kind of way he got real ugly. He said he had been attracted to me but my being forward in my attraction was a killer to his libeto. In fact when ever I see him now ,he will made snide little comments about my sexuality. Nice huh?

Now I could process this and say this boy has some weird issues about female strength and role playing. That he ended up wed to a very sweet ,pretty Asian woman who never raises her voice, even to hale a cab. That sex with such a guy would probably be pretty lame. And I do have all those thoughts. But when I meet a man now who I like there is this thought of if I ask for his number or make the first move, will this make his penis get miniaturised?Some one I liked and cared about hurt my feelings deeply and now there is this tiny but constant voice of doubt.

A big part of my work is with people discussing their relationship lives. There is often this feeling if I am doing this professionally, shouldn't all of my issues be resolved? But I look back on the first woman I studied with about this stuff and while I got enormous insite and skills from her, there was always this weird arrogant lie in the room. She would say that we as clients should follow the rules that she lived by and we would all have have glorious sex lives and perfected partnerships. Ends up a couple of years ago she divorced her husband in as angry a way as I could imagine, and dates unavailable men who won't marry her. Oh ,and she's bipolar.

My hope is my clients like the fact that I am honest, that I am as confused and clueless sometimes as they are. That I am still trying to figure this out. And I do this while still often being the smartest, funniest , most aggressive girl in the joint.

Prrof that I exist

Big event of the day, I went down to the DMV and got new non-driver state ID. Why is such a big deal ? Well my last one was 2 years out of date and to get on a plane this summer I had to be frisked to see if I might be worthy of getting on a commuter plane from Virginia to Newark. It was probably time to take care of this.

It is also a step in getting over how pathetic I am . At least about getting my picture taken. It goes way beyond the standard girl, that one makes my ass look big, thing. I think it comes from not coming from a family that took pictures. There are no images of me in middle school except for those oh so becoming class photos. Then when I was acting I had to regularly get head shots done and that was such a treat and a half. You always seemed to be sitting in a lobby for your turn when some cutie with a TV friendly nose was walking out. I was always labeled " character" in looks. Meaning, you will be making people laugh not lustful. The only complement I ever got from a professional photographer was that I would not have to fake my cleavage the way most other women did.

So now all I see are the faults. Polish nose that could be used on Sesame Street to demonstrate the shape of the letter T. Rectangle shaped head that always produces a double chin no matter how skinny I get. The weight just falls there. There is no medium in pictures of me . About once a decade I can get an image that is to die for. Otherwise I look like a rather unattractive Serbian butch robot. But all of this I put this all aside, showed all my 14 hundred forms of personal I.D. and had a pretty unappealing image made of myself. But at least I won't have to do that for another 8 years.

Got an invitation this afternoon for a day of the Dead party on Saturday. You are supposed to bring something to symbolise those who are no longer around to celebrate them .I am thinking of who and what I should bring. Not to be Gothic but there are allot of folks who have crossed over. And pictures would seem like the obvious thing to bring but 1. it is obvious and one can't do that. And 2. Many of the people in my life hated their images in photos as much as I do. Would my grandmother come back to haunt me if I brought the image of her as a flapper, that I love, but I know she couldn't stand? Would seem unfair.

Things not to do right before bed.

My whole day started off running late because I slept too long because I woke up in the middle of the night with a nightmare. It was about Mother Natures Son who I have not seen or talked to in about 14 years. The dream was about him leaving me for another woman and that he owed me money. Which is odd, as I don't recall ever loaning him cash while we were together.

I know this is directly connected to reading Learning to Drive right before I went to sleep. It's a remarkable book of essays but it disturbed me. Largely because I feel I know the author. Not in a literal sense but I know every where she is going in travels. Her neighborhood is my old neighborhood. The subway stations, the parks, I know exactly where she is. But more importantly I know the woman she is. She is a brilliant, well read, neurotic fem of the born and bred NYC gene. I know how she dresses, I know what kind of men she would date, I know what kind of mother she is. Because she is me. And she freaked me.Like a literary ghost of Christmas future.

The main essay is about the end of her last live in relationship with a well known Marxist who seemed to have slept with every other brilliant, well read,neurotic women in NYC. She is so honest about her rage and obsession with him it made me very uneasy. While on one hand it is a real blessing to have a writer be so out there and honest with their personal experience. But on the other hand, I don't want to be her in 15 years. I'm a sitting there in bed reading.and it was like a watching a slow moving train wreck. I could not bear her being so stupid and self abusive but I could not look away.

The whole thing has put me in a very bad state of mind all day. I'm scared. I have this collection of women in my life that I think of as the nuns. Collectively they are clever, kind hearted, good at what they do, responsible, good with money and wear great looking scarves in flattering colours. But they have been hurt one too many times in their romantic lives and its like a switch hit them some where in midlife. They don't try anymore. They don't take lovers, they don't date, they don't even flirt. They give their love to their friends, their pets, their causes. Gay, straight, bi, they just don't let themselves being emotionally or physically romantically touched anymore. They break my hearts.

I have a few peers who have done the same but I don't choose to have relationships with those women any more. I tryed but they would get so bitter and ugly if I mentioned adventures I was having on a personal site or an interaction with a cute potential guy that didn't work out the way I might have hoped it would. I was a fool for even trying . But for those women what ever was going on with them was so extreme and unsettling, it would never be fun or comforting to be playmates with them. If you have given up hope that you will ever meet a kind person that will find you right and you are only in your 30s, something is dying in you. Frankly, I got enough potential death to deal with in my life to deal with.

When I was in my early 20s my then roommate and I were talking to an older woman friend about what we wanted for our future. The number 1 thing we both wanted was a child and we had no question that we would have one. The older woman started laughing and shaking her head.She told us how she had been the same .But things has not worked out as planned with her partner. That we were foolish and arrogant to have such dreams.Almost 20 years later my roommate is a mother of a beautiful boy but is in a marriage that makes my stomach lurch. The older woman verbally castrates her husband every day for not forfilling her dreams. And I am alone but mostly content.

Short list of things I don't want. I don't want to look back on my life ten years from now and be bitter. I don't want to marry some toxic hazard of a male just because I am scared time is running out. I don't want to have sex with someone that I don't particularly like or have anything in common with because I lonely, or horny, or want to feel better about my self.

Short list of what I do want. I want to find someone who likes themselves ,their lives and me most of the time. If I choose to not have a child, I want it because I made the choice, not because I feel I never met a good man. If I choose to have a child I want it to be because I have a calling to, not because I need to feel normal or rewarded by society . And if I have the kid, I want it to like itself, it's life and me most of the time.

It's not quite 4 o'clock yet.Am I allowed to have a glass of wine?

In praise of isolation

I try to make it a sort of discipline as a single person to go out at least half the nights of the week. This works out most of the time give or take a night. It helps kill the desire to hermit and remember that I do live in the most amazing city in the world - if one overlooks the upper east side. Being around others also helps to kill the demons that live in my head if I spend too much time by my self. The ones that tell me I am going to die poor,alone , except for a bunch of cats.

But tonight we have the first truly crappy weather of the season. It's raining slow and steady these life taking drops that threaten to become snow but never make the commitment. It's so bad the dealers are hiding in their girlfriends vans. Meanwhile my home is warm and toasty. And ground lamb has just been delivered for making burgers. There is a bottle of cheap but pleasant red wine on the kitchen counter.I just got Katha Pollitt's Learning to Drive from the library and I love it. I can watch to see if Cloris or Susan is going to be kicked of the dance show.

I don't care if I got an invitation right now to go down to midtown for a chance to see Ethel Merman rise from the dead while doing a medley of her biggest numbers. I am staying put tonight.

Return to Guyville

I got some good news this afternoon. A friend of a friend who I let house sit this summer will be staying here for a month, renting the extra bedroom. ( Can I say it's still a turn on to say I have an extra bedroom even after 2 years.) This will mean I can actually buy Christmas presents that cost a little bit more than tube socks. It also means I will have the experience of sharing my home with a nice man.

This is has historically been a very good thing for me to do. For while I like men enormously, when I am single ,I get out of practice of being with them. And then I get annoyed at them being, well,guys. That they don't do conversation the way most women do, that they monopolise, monologue, don't ask questions.And that they don't have that compulsive female emotional gage going.They aren't always thinking about how their actions will impact on others. Which can be a huge relief but also can in the wrong situations just piss me off.

But living with good guys, this kind of stuff can become normalised again. And to become reestablished with guy stuff with sound, smell, even taste. My last two dude borders had some weird ass dorm room stuff related to food.This I think is a very healthy thing for me be around.

Most importantly it is to be aware on a daily basis of male kindness. I have guy friends who are lovely and supportive to me. But like most of pals, even the ones who live on the same block as me, I almost never see them.Everyone is so friiggin busy. And if they have wives or girlfriends or boyfriends or dogs, you can't be expected to ask much of their time.But to have a consistent,hey what are you doing today- can I open that jar for you ? That I think will be good for my head. Even bad ones be helpful. Because there is the comparison.

When I met Schroder 2 years ago it was right when I had taken in the worst male roommate on record.This was largely had to do with an age difference and life experience outlook. I suspect I wouldn't have tolerated him any better when i was 24. At least I hope I had some sort of self perception then to spot losers. But I would then go out with his gifted self and I would be so happy and grateful to be with a man who did something with his day that was a little more productive than get high with hobos in the park. That punk kid made me a very nice girlfriend.Maybe this might have the potential of repeating the some of the same energy. Pro-boy.

the didget celibration

Mother earth Sarah called this morning to say that this was last minute but she wanted to ask if I was free this afternoon to come to a party to say goodbye to her pinkie toe on her right foot. She had a fall down a flight of stairs on her way to an AA meeting a couple of months ago. She was sober which makes this seem even more unfair. Some how in the fall she basically killed her toe.

I knew that Thursday it would be removed and was thinking I should at least check in on her to see how she was doing. Ends up , she is at least emotionally healthier than the rest of us. He husband served us sparkling cider and a variety of nibbly things including 5 kinds of dips. There were toasts made to the lost toe. A poetry tribute was given.

This may have been the most cheerful ,odd little luncheon I can recall being part of in a very long time.

The Gods have spoken

Last night I wrote a very long detailed post about the events of the last 36 hours. However blogger was having some sort of tech issue and could neither print or save what I had so brilliantly written. Alas , it is gone to the great place of lost cyber scribe.

Strangely I am not bombed by this. I am still feeling my way through this whole blog thing. What is ethical to talk about. What might come back to haunt me. While I have chosen not to post my name and picture, it still could be figured out with out too much trouble who I am and following , who I am talking about. In particular, my family.

What the lost post was about was almost entirely about the folks. Nothing I said was dishonest, or even an exaggeration. But they might have found it to be a betrayal of sorts. They are all so internal. To have others be aware of what is going on for them in their deeper selves is so totally out of character. It was the cause of my feeling very lonely as a kid, no one was talking about what was going on. I thought I was the only one experiencing the events around me.

When I hit my teens I went through a period of being an intense gossip. I am not proud of this but I do have sympathy for this era of my life. Because now I finally had friends and they were talking about their adventures. It was blissful.You would talk about the events leading up to,then catch up while it was going on, then recap after it was over. And then recap with 7 other people who had nothing to do with it. It wasn't until a few years into this I discovered a had developed a reputation as an unreliable companion that others did not expose them selves to. I sometimes wish I had a memo I could send out to everyone who knew me at this time. Sort of a ,please excuse Susan for her activies in the mid 80s. She was going through adolescences.

Now I have come full circle. I work with people and they intimate thoughts all day.But I would never reveal anything that is said to me ,even under threat of eye gouging. I have had a couple of people socially tell me in the last couple of years I am hard to get to know. That I am guarded. Maybe to some extent that is true. But I also feel like I am such a total marshmallow. It takes so very little to get me to a raw space. I just don't choose to go there with someone I just met on the bus or on a bar stool. call me aloof.

My dad can out charm your dad

So the initial pickup action was awful. Dad's pain factor goes way up when he has to sit up straight.( Ok with my father's adolescent Staten Island posture , he has never stood up straight in his life.) But the train ride sucked the life out of him.Then the escalator to the street was going down rather than up. Thanks for your help and logic Penn Station ! Some how makes the potential skills of the bomb sniffing dogs allot less threatening. Then we managed to get a cab with a newbie driver who didn't know that Amsterdam follows Broadway. And then there was the traffic on the West Side highway. My dad was literally trembling in pain.

Some times in my life I have been with other family's in times of crisis and stress .At these moments you can pick up some wacky trivia. Like the fact that others do not nesasarly process things like your pack. I have seen some crowds do this thing when things get tense, they start chatting, getting louder,making small talk. Bizarre. My family we get so quiet ,we could be confused with candidates for the monastery.If it wasn't for those wonderful little TVs that they now force upon us in the back of cabs, our ride would have been mute.

So I get him to my place. he was wincing just walking down the length of the lobby. And we get into the elevator with 3 neighbors. A very sweet middle aged woman who I am on a pleasant,"Hi, how are you today? ', basis with, and 2 over energetic teen aged boys. I am internally in this dialog of begging the boys to bring it down a notch. Don't accidentally bump into my daddy and topple him.

The woman is chatting with the boys about basketball which it turns out she played in high school. And then she turns to my father and declares quite loudly how handsome he is. I agree about my good gene pool. The boys laugh. I mention that my dad played college ball. The boys are now interested. What team? My dad says that he was too slow, not enough follow through at the net. The boys are gracious about opening the door of the elevator for us. And this is why I love my building.

We get home. Dad takes a bath, has a ginger ale with painkillers, followed by a brandy. Needless to say his mood kicks up.He has no interest in the home made soup I made for dinner but wants cereal and a Boston Cream Cupcake I bought him. Things are rocking now. we turn on MSNBC in his room. He has a crush on Tina Fey. Wants to discuss how much money she is worth. Wants to know about have I heard about John Stewart's recent speech at a local college. It seems Stewart at the climax of the speech said, " And I have a message for Sarah Palin.FUCK YOU!" Dad giggles like a 8 year old. I consider how many fathers of friends of mine who might have found this offensive and disrespectful vs a moment of delight.

Later on I am drinking peppermint tea by my self and very aware how my dad has ruined me for all normal dudes, for better and worse.