Shoot me

I'm sitting here in a shoe store bored out of my mind. The woman is shoe shopping and that means that for the next hour I will wander behind her,like so many men do for there women, carrying boxes, waiting for her to try them in only to offer nuetral opinions.

That's cute, that's a good color, eh!, etc etc.

Normally I don't mind the torture of shopping. But since the woman is picky chances are after trying 30-40 pairs ( I wish I was exagerating) she will not pick one since each will have sometimg wrong with it. ( too tight, too "old ladyish, wrong color, the toes pinch, the heel rubs the wrong way, too loose, the list goes on.

Occasionally I will make a pick for her to try on. Sometimes it'll he a hideous piece of fashion that we'll both laugh at. Othertimes a super high heel just do I can get my kicks. And sometimes it'll be something that I know is her style.

Today I'm just sitting here. Saving my energy for a day of this. Eventually she'll buy simething. It will be bought for the sake of buying something. She will wear it once and be tossed in a pile of similar purchases.

Sigh...

Curtains

So here I am, minding my own business, or actually, minding my companies business since I’m on their dime. Sick as a dog, I’ve pretty much been unconscious for the last two days, taking a walk to the little boys room.

My cube is by a wall of windows. 20 feet past these windows are apartments, expensive Wall Street apartments. Condos really if you want to split some hairs. And really who doesn’t these days? The kind of apartments that you know whoever lives in them can afford to buy curtains.


Anyhoo, I have to pee so I get up to go to the bathroom. I glance out the windows as I walk and I can see right into these condos. No big deal (for me). I do it everyday. They’re there and with no curtains they pretty much invite you to look.

Although, somehow I think the blonde who was doing her dishes naked didn’t realize that just because she has today off doesn’t mean that everyone has the day off. Or maybe she likes to be watched, I don’t’ know. But I do know her bedroom is within view as well and she really needs some curtains if she doesn’t want my entire office watch her nap.

But then again, maybe she does.

Full dodecahedron

I went for lunch on Friday and it occurred to me that I suddenly find myself working a few blocks away form where I was working when I began writing this blog. I did know this, but for some reason until I walked past the building I worked at it didn’t really register with me


Before that job, before that day, I had no idea what a blog was. And it was only from searching for an ex coworker and discovering his failed attempt at a blog while living in another country, that I created mine just…because.


The title means nothing, the subject matter to be discussed wasn’t supposed to be anything insightful or very important, and I will never claim that it is or ever will be. It’s just me, writing as I write, and sometimes speak—those of you who’ve met me can tell.

This blog, created at a deadend job filled with characters such as the two women who would go off to the ladies room in the middle of the day for a tryst, near the barbershop with the gay porn within walking distance of the seaport and across the street form a Strand bookstore, made me appreciate writing and reading and listening to other peoples thoughts and wishes. Some of them were very artistic, some deeply emotional and personal and some about as vapid as they come. But who am I to judge. I write a blog about nothing in particular, just my thoughts, typed in a rambling jumble until I’ve written enough that I somehow make a point.

Or do I? I ever really know. My posts for the most part start with a purpose but end up sidetracked when I go off on a tangent. But that’s me, and again, if you’ve ever had a conversation with me you’ll know, I’ll start to make a point and back track and go off and eventually forget what I was talking about until I do and then It’ll take me all of 4 or 5 words to finish.


Chatty? Me? NAH!


I think I went that first year posting every day, sometimes twice. Then I tapered off to a few weeks or months of silence to return again and then vanishing again and again. Will I continue to do this? Will I ever go back to writing something daily? I don’t know. I’m playing this by ear. The blog is about nothing. Or rather it’s about me, my life, what I’m doing and what I’m experiencing. The “nothing” factor is my not wanting to put any particular worth to anything I’m experiencing or writing. That’s for the reader to decide I supposed.


Is it worth something or is it truly nothing?

I don’t know…how bout you?





Note: to further make my point about how things I plan to write change as I write them, this post was originally meant to be me talking about how I was going to get a haircut this week at the barbershop with the gay porn.

For all the conservatives out there

In case you haven't looked in a dictionary lately or, more likely, never understood what the word means, here's the definition.

choice
Pronunciation: \ˈchȯis\
Function: noun
Etymology: Middle English chois, from Anglo-French, from choisir to choose, of Germanic origin; akin to Old High German kiosan to choose — more at choose
Date: 13th century
1 : the act of choosing : selection
2 : power of choosing : option
3 a : the best part : cream b : a person or thing chosen
4 : a number and variety to choose among
5 : care in selecting
6 : a grade of meat between prime and good

— of choice : to be preferred

synonyms choice, option, alternative, preference, selection, election mean the act or opportunity of choosing or the thing chosen. choice suggests the opportunity or privilege of choosing freely . option implies a power to choose that is specifically granted or guaranteed . alternative implies a need to choose one and reject another possibility . preference suggests a choice guided by one's judgment or predilections . selection implies a range of choice . election implies an end or purpose which requires exercise of judgment


Any questions?

Fucking birds

I don’t like birds.

I grew up with the meanest nastiest Parrot known to man. When he died we got another one. It was just as bad. About the only bird I did like was a Falcon my father had caught when I was a kid. It was when Koch had a bunch of Falcons released into the city in order to solve the pidgeon problem.

I actually liked that bird. He was mine. He sat on my arm and ate raw chicken from my hand. His name was Flip…My sister killed him

Back to my original point. I don’t like birds.

I dislike them even more today.

I was standing on my train platform waiting for the 7:24 out of Bayside. I had my Precious in hand and was playing solitaire when suddenly a large white mass splattered in my palm.

I swear to god that fucking bird must have aimed it was so dead on.

I cleaned it off as best I could using some napkins I had in my bag and immediately washed my hand 7 times when I got to work. They still feel dirty.

A little thing called trust

It’s pretty sad when you’re the mother of a child and that child can’t trust you to look out for her welfare.

I’ve seen it a lot growing up. Kids that grow up too fast, mostly girls, who are burdened with looking after their siblings only because they were born female and it’s expected of them to carry the load. Little 4 year old girls who I look at and they move and speak as if they are 20 years older than they should. Kids who you look into their eyes you find no innocence.

I find it both sad and annoying. They bother me. I don’t know why. Yeas I do. It’s because it’s unnatural. It’s not right that they should be that way so young.

My niece isn’t quite there. Thankfully. She’s more of a Tom boy and if you looked at her move you’d think she was, well there’s no other way to say this, gay. She may be. I don’t know. She says she has a boyfriend but she also says that aside from being raped she’s never had sex with a guy. Plus, it’s the in thing for girls to want girls.

When exactly did that happen?

Nevermind

Back to the point I was trying to make, trust and a child being able to know that they’ll be kept safe.

ALO is stuck because not only can she not only trust my sister form making decisions that will be in her best interest but she also knows that physically she’s no longer safe at home.

I nearly went to the Bronx a couple of weeks ago. It was around 11 at night and I found myself actually contemplating on grabbing a bat and heading to the Bronx to have a conversation with my sister and my nephew.

Michael’s always been a bit of a hot head, very quick to anger and even quicker to hit what he was angry at. The kind of guy you see in your workplace that you joke around will go postal…only he probably could if he had access to guns.

Living with him was a constant toll of keeping him in check. I don’t know why he’s filled with such anger. He was spoiled form the moment he was born. Fuck, my mom wiped his ass until he was 8 years old.

No I’m not joking. He was that spoiled.

He’s 27 now and still has no job, no degree and spends his time either watching TV or downloading Porn. He refuses to leave my mom’s apartment because as he puts it, if he goes, who’ll watch over her.

This is the existence I escaped form. What my mother had planned for me, to be her ever present companion. If it wasn’t so sad I’d find it funny. But it’s not. It’s pitiful. Do I feel sorry for him? Not really. He was doomed form the get go. He didn’t even have the sense to make a choice to be that way. He simply became that way.

On a purely scientific standpoint it’s fascinating really. You couldn’t get a better urban study of Nature vs Nurture. My being Nature cause my mother had fuck all to do with my upbringing and Michael was nurtured to within an inch of his life.

Anyhoo, I nearly went to beat him and my sister. I didn’t. the feeling lasted about half a second. Wasn’t even a major thought, Just a flash of emotion.

What happened was that my niece, who was always Michael’s main target to lash out at (me thinks he hates women…and kids…but mostly women) emailed me that she was truly afraid now. Seems her mom (ALO was still pregnant at this point and thought her mom was going to make her keep it) called Michael over and in front of ALO told him that he could beat her whenever he wanted.

So he did.

That was my first reaction was to go and beat him and my sister. My advice to her was to get a bat and keep it near her, and if he so much as looked at her funny to not be afraid to use it, and to make sure that when she did he didn’t get up. I told her to call the cops as well but I know she won’t do that. Despite it all she doesn’t want to break up her family. She still wants to have that connection with them.

When I told all this to the Woman she asked point blank if I thought Michael had it in him to rape her. I shook my head to ease her mind. But deep down I know he did. Michael is a self Righteous little bastard like my sister. He’d do it and not think anything wrong with it because he’d feel that he was just.

I always joke about being a borderline sociopath. My nephew is a real one. He just hasn’t figured that out yet.