It's never a dull moment around here.
First, I lose a friend. That's something I'll probably mourn this weekend when I realize I can't just call him and say "Hey, what's up?"
But then, the USPS black hole hath swallowed up my thesis. That's right- the packet that my professors sent to me with line edits that were supposed to guide me in cleaning up my submissions for my MFA never reached me, even though it was mailed out on September 12th.
At first I wanted to blame my landlord, because I don't have a private mailbox- all the mail goes into one box and when it comes he sorts it and places it on a small table downstairs. It sucks, yes, and it's illegal I'm told, yes, but I'm not one to rock the boat when it comes to this apartment. I'm too aware of the fact that if I get evicted I have nowhere to go and no money with which to get there.
Then I had to realize that in the time I've been living here I've never NOT gotten my mail. Sure it sucks that he can see everything I get in the mail and I had to cancel my subscription to Hot Oiled Beefcake Magazine, but I always get my mail. So that leaves the USPS as the culprit. And the school for its negligence- I mean seriously, how hard would it have been to make copies OR mail out the packet with a freakin' confirmation of receipt postcard, just in case? I'm just sayin'...
But the final nail in my funky mood coffin- I didn't get this job I was really hoping I'd get. They went with someone who had a bit more experience, so they say, and I'm just wondering how much longer before I can finally enjoy what I do for a living?? How much longer before I wake up and am actually looking forward to my job? Because right now just hearing the train conductor announce my stop makes my stomach turn.
For the past few days I've actually made it to bed at a decent hour (read: before midnight) and have been able to sleep through the night, foolishly thinking that my insomnia was licked. "But no, not so fast there, Missy," Karma said to me earlier today. "You still owe me..."
*smooches...praying for a reprieve*
-------------
I avoided sleep for years,
up at night replaying evening news stories about
nearby jailbreaks, fat people
who ate fried chicken and woke up
dead. In sleep I am looking
for poems in the shape of open
V's of birds flying in formation,
or open arms saying, I forgive you, all.
Thursday, October 18, 2007
Wednesday, October 17, 2007
R.I.P., Mr. Baseball
Despite my hardcore Jadedness, it's always hard for me to cut someone completely out of my life. I'm a very empathetic person (I am, dammit!) and would hate to be kicked to the curb, so I try really hard not to have to go there with people, giving them chance after chance after chance. But some people just can't (or won't) be rehabilitated, and that's when I have to give them the boot.
Such is the case with Mr. Baseball.
I met him in January 2006, and in the beginning (as it always goes) he was cool people. We started hanging out and then became intimate, but then I met someone new who I liked better and asked me to stop seeing other people, so in April 2006 I told Mr. Baseball I just wanted to be friends. And that was fine with him.
We spoke once in a blue moon, and many times I hijacked his big screen TV to watch Degrassi or for my John Cusack movie marathons when he worked the late shift, using his Park Slope studio as a hideout when I wanted to escape my own crazy world for a bit.
But lately, more often than not, I've been noticing what a negative person he is, and how he likes to talk down to me and sometimes catches a pretty nasty little attitude with me. Unprovoked!
Today we met for lunch after not hanging out or seeing one another for almost a month, and it was the same thing- within a millisecond of meeting up he starts in with his flippant attitude, and it seriously took all my strength and composure to not turn around and just go back up to my office. However, I don't like to cause a scene in public so I didn't. But if ever there was a drink-in-your-face moment, that was it.
So just now, before I started typing this, I sent him his Dear Mr. Baseball email. Callous and cowardly, I know, but whatever. I'm too through with that fool, so an email is all I had time for.
And I tell you what- if The Haitian (previously known as Mr. DJ) don't start acting right, he's next!!
*smooches...deleting a name from my little black book*
------------
(no poem for this post...
not in the mood)
Such is the case with Mr. Baseball.
I met him in January 2006, and in the beginning (as it always goes) he was cool people. We started hanging out and then became intimate, but then I met someone new who I liked better and asked me to stop seeing other people, so in April 2006 I told Mr. Baseball I just wanted to be friends. And that was fine with him.
We spoke once in a blue moon, and many times I hijacked his big screen TV to watch Degrassi or for my John Cusack movie marathons when he worked the late shift, using his Park Slope studio as a hideout when I wanted to escape my own crazy world for a bit.
But lately, more often than not, I've been noticing what a negative person he is, and how he likes to talk down to me and sometimes catches a pretty nasty little attitude with me. Unprovoked!
Today we met for lunch after not hanging out or seeing one another for almost a month, and it was the same thing- within a millisecond of meeting up he starts in with his flippant attitude, and it seriously took all my strength and composure to not turn around and just go back up to my office. However, I don't like to cause a scene in public so I didn't. But if ever there was a drink-in-your-face moment, that was it.
So just now, before I started typing this, I sent him his Dear Mr. Baseball email. Callous and cowardly, I know, but whatever. I'm too through with that fool, so an email is all I had time for.
And I tell you what- if The Haitian (previously known as Mr. DJ) don't start acting right, he's next!!
*smooches...deleting a name from my little black book*
------------
(no poem for this post...
not in the mood)
When Single Moms Attack
Last month I joined a Yahoo Group for single parents in the Park Slope area, figuring I should really try and meet other parents in the nabe, get my kids involved in shyt, be a grown-up...that kind of stuff.
What the hell was I thinking?
Obviously I forgot that although I am a very good mom, I come from the Anti-parenting school of child rearing, and am not one of these super-sensitive, over-protective, hovering, organic-within-an-inch-of-their-lives Park Slope parents. You know the type: "Blake has karate on Tuesdays and on Wednesday we go to the Farmer's Market for that organic rhubarb pie he loves so much, then we go home and talk about our day...he's like my best friend."
I hate that shit. My kids are fed, groomed, housed, clothed, taught life lessons and occasionally, when they deserve it, we'll have take-out Fridays or a movie night or a crazy dance party and make-over nights. But we're NOT best friends. We are parent and child, period, and TRUST me- they understand the difference!
Recently, one of parents on the forum recently posted that she was going through some isht and then someone else suggested a small gathering to hang and relax and hash things out, but offered up a Monday night time. Well that got everybody's panties all in a bunch because it was a non-kid-friendly event.
Now I can't go either- Monday at 8PM the last thing I want to do is talk about ex husbands and wives and the whole "woe is me" aspect of it. But some parents got all in a huff because their precious Blakey-poos weren't invited. Um, hello? If I'm gonna sit around and talk sensitive adult matters I really do not want kids around. It's not appropriate. So I kindly declined and said I couldn't make it- no explanation, just can't make it. Other parents felt the need to go into why they feel personally attacked at having to choose between their kids and an event.
If you can't/won't go, then just don't! Why the drama? Did I really need to be all distressed by your retarded message board post so early in the morning? I'll be damned if I let some kids dictate what I do...
*smooches...wondering if Park Slope is really the place for me*
------------
And now: it is easy to forget
what I came for
among so many who have always
lived here
swaying their crenellated fans
between the reefs
and besides
you breathe differently down here.
What the hell was I thinking?
Obviously I forgot that although I am a very good mom, I come from the Anti-parenting school of child rearing, and am not one of these super-sensitive, over-protective, hovering, organic-within-an-inch-of-their-lives Park Slope parents. You know the type: "Blake has karate on Tuesdays and on Wednesday we go to the Farmer's Market for that organic rhubarb pie he loves so much, then we go home and talk about our day...he's like my best friend."
I hate that shit. My kids are fed, groomed, housed, clothed, taught life lessons and occasionally, when they deserve it, we'll have take-out Fridays or a movie night or a crazy dance party and make-over nights. But we're NOT best friends. We are parent and child, period, and TRUST me- they understand the difference!
Recently, one of parents on the forum recently posted that she was going through some isht and then someone else suggested a small gathering to hang and relax and hash things out, but offered up a Monday night time. Well that got everybody's panties all in a bunch because it was a non-kid-friendly event.
Now I can't go either- Monday at 8PM the last thing I want to do is talk about ex husbands and wives and the whole "woe is me" aspect of it. But some parents got all in a huff because their precious Blakey-poos weren't invited. Um, hello? If I'm gonna sit around and talk sensitive adult matters I really do not want kids around. It's not appropriate. So I kindly declined and said I couldn't make it- no explanation, just can't make it. Other parents felt the need to go into why they feel personally attacked at having to choose between their kids and an event.
If you can't/won't go, then just don't! Why the drama? Did I really need to be all distressed by your retarded message board post so early in the morning? I'll be damned if I let some kids dictate what I do...
*smooches...wondering if Park Slope is really the place for me*
------------
And now: it is easy to forget
what I came for
among so many who have always
lived here
swaying their crenellated fans
between the reefs
and besides
you breathe differently down here.
Tuesday, October 16, 2007
I Can't Stay Mad At You...
Even though I lamented all the know-how I've lost out on by hanging out in Brooklyn, there's no way I can stay mad at my beloved borough.
I chaperoned a school trip for N.'s class to Brooklyn Bridge Park this morning, and the view just reminded me why I put up with my landlord and that damn F-train!
*smooches...*
------------
Winter, too cold to write
on the bolts of the beams
in the bridge steel
High,
overlooking whole auroras
of Sangsara sun dusk
down by the Statue of Liberals holding
soon to be lighted
torch to the dim dank
Atlantic famous sky
where Greek ships plow
thru sullen waves of iron
bringing tons of rusty junk
to be pressed into bales
and left on waterfronts
of splinter
I would I were a wave
and had vanished now
than bawl and blot
with pencils in screaming
rooms here on earth
so fool stupid blind
I chaperoned a school trip for N.'s class to Brooklyn Bridge Park this morning, and the view just reminded me why I put up with my landlord and that damn F-train!
*smooches...*
------------
Winter, too cold to write
on the bolts of the beams
in the bridge steel
High,
overlooking whole auroras
of Sangsara sun dusk
down by the Statue of Liberals holding
soon to be lighted
torch to the dim dank
Atlantic famous sky
where Greek ships plow
thru sullen waves of iron
bringing tons of rusty junk
to be pressed into bales
and left on waterfronts
of splinter
I would I were a wave
and had vanished now
than bawl and blot
with pencils in screaming
rooms here on earth
so fool stupid blind
Monday, October 15, 2007
I've Lost My Internal City Map...and Other Musings
My weekend in a nutshell...
The Cold, Hard, Blubbery Truth
I have fallen off the wagon hardcore, man! I've gained back almost 10lbs of the weight I so proudly shed not too long ago, and it shows! Clothes that fit me beautifully just a couple of months ago now struggle to fasten. It's completely embarrassing. But that's it, I cannot go around looking like this; I've got my annual Cali trip in January and PR in May coming up. And the jelly belly is NOT invited.
I've Lost My Internal City Map
Used to be I knew the UWS and The Village like the back of my hand. Those were my stomping grounds and I knew every shop on every corner and where to get the best hot chocolate on any street. But I suppose moving to Brooklyn and hanging out with other Brooklyn-ites and basically only leaving this borough to go to work has had a nasty little side effect- I don't know where anything is anymore.
Saturday I took the babies to the Children's Museum on W83rd, and K decided that she wanted stuffed shells for dinner. So I suggested we go to Carmine's, one of the best family-style Italian restaurants I know. But god damn if I couldn't find it! I walked all the way down to 57th before I gave up and just took them to the Brooklyn Diner (at least I still know where THAT is!) for burgers.
I've got to cross the bridge more often...
Are You Happy Now, Irene?
My mami and tia and I were not able to get any tickets to see Joel Osteen at MSG this weekend...all they had were seats behind the stage. Can MSG PLEASE explain to me WHY they sell seats BEHIND the stage? It's so freakin' ri-DUN-culous! I suppose Sunday's meditation will have to suffice for my soul cleansing.
Technites Do It With Precision
Sunday morning Irene and I went to a Brooklyn Tech HS alumni breakfast, just for kicks, and guess what?? The final piece to my "missing friends" puzzle just showed up and sat at our table! It felt like a Festivus miracle! Gus- or rather Satan, as we called him- was my lab-partner-in-crime...we terrorized classmates and teachers alike, and when I moved to Buffalo after graduation, he was one of the few people I actually missed.
But there he was, all grown-up and married with a job and stuff!
And on a side note, can I please talk about how crazy BIG my HS was? We had like thousands in our graduating class. So I wasn't surprised that the other Class of '93 attendee, Michael Tom, was someone I'd NEVER heard of...
Silly as it sounds, I feel so complete now, like things are coming back to me that were mine but I carelessly lost. I loved my friends dearly, and HS for me was a BLAST. And well, seeing Gus made up for the fact that all they had as breakfast meat at this shindig was swine!
Church Just Got Even Creepier...
...if that's even possible! After the alumni breakfast I went to meet my mami at her church (she had my babies) but got there too early. So I had to sit in on the sermon. I took a quick nap, but woke up just in time for the closing prayer where some guy said- and I kid you NOT:
"Lord, help us to die every day. Help us to lose our identity in this kingdom, and to die and live again in the next."
WTF? Has he been sippin' some of Michael Jackson's Jesus Juice? That's the CRAZIEST shit I've EVER heard!
*smooches...kinda glad that Joely-bear was sold out...*
------------
If I were to live my life
in catfish forms
in scaffolds of skin and whiskers
at the bottom of a pond
and you were to come by
one evening
when the moon was shining
down into my dark home
and stand there at the edge
of my affection
and think, "It's beautiful
here by this pond. I wish
somebody loved me,"
I'd love you and be your catfish
friend and drive such lonely
thoughts from your mind
and suddenly you would be
at peace,
and ask yourself, "I wonder
if there are any catfish
in this pond? It seems like
a perfect place for them."
The Cold, Hard, Blubbery Truth
I have fallen off the wagon hardcore, man! I've gained back almost 10lbs of the weight I so proudly shed not too long ago, and it shows! Clothes that fit me beautifully just a couple of months ago now struggle to fasten. It's completely embarrassing. But that's it, I cannot go around looking like this; I've got my annual Cali trip in January and PR in May coming up. And the jelly belly is NOT invited.
I've Lost My Internal City Map
Used to be I knew the UWS and The Village like the back of my hand. Those were my stomping grounds and I knew every shop on every corner and where to get the best hot chocolate on any street. But I suppose moving to Brooklyn and hanging out with other Brooklyn-ites and basically only leaving this borough to go to work has had a nasty little side effect- I don't know where anything is anymore.
Saturday I took the babies to the Children's Museum on W83rd, and K decided that she wanted stuffed shells for dinner. So I suggested we go to Carmine's, one of the best family-style Italian restaurants I know. But god damn if I couldn't find it! I walked all the way down to 57th before I gave up and just took them to the Brooklyn Diner (at least I still know where THAT is!) for burgers.
I've got to cross the bridge more often...
Are You Happy Now, Irene?
My mami and tia and I were not able to get any tickets to see Joel Osteen at MSG this weekend...all they had were seats behind the stage. Can MSG PLEASE explain to me WHY they sell seats BEHIND the stage? It's so freakin' ri-DUN-culous! I suppose Sunday's meditation will have to suffice for my soul cleansing.
Technites Do It With PrecisionSunday morning Irene and I went to a Brooklyn Tech HS alumni breakfast, just for kicks, and guess what?? The final piece to my "missing friends" puzzle just showed up and sat at our table! It felt like a Festivus miracle! Gus- or rather Satan, as we called him- was my lab-partner-in-crime...we terrorized classmates and teachers alike, and when I moved to Buffalo after graduation, he was one of the few people I actually missed.
But there he was, all grown-up and married with a job and stuff!
And on a side note, can I please talk about how crazy BIG my HS was? We had like thousands in our graduating class. So I wasn't surprised that the other Class of '93 attendee, Michael Tom, was someone I'd NEVER heard of...
Silly as it sounds, I feel so complete now, like things are coming back to me that were mine but I carelessly lost. I loved my friends dearly, and HS for me was a BLAST. And well, seeing Gus made up for the fact that all they had as breakfast meat at this shindig was swine!
Church Just Got Even Creepier...
...if that's even possible! After the alumni breakfast I went to meet my mami at her church (she had my babies) but got there too early. So I had to sit in on the sermon. I took a quick nap, but woke up just in time for the closing prayer where some guy said- and I kid you NOT:
"Lord, help us to die every day. Help us to lose our identity in this kingdom, and to die and live again in the next."
WTF? Has he been sippin' some of Michael Jackson's Jesus Juice? That's the CRAZIEST shit I've EVER heard!
*smooches...kinda glad that Joely-bear was sold out...*
------------
If I were to live my life
in catfish forms
in scaffolds of skin and whiskers
at the bottom of a pond
and you were to come by
one evening
when the moon was shining
down into my dark home
and stand there at the edge
of my affection
and think, "It's beautiful
here by this pond. I wish
somebody loved me,"
I'd love you and be your catfish
friend and drive such lonely
thoughts from your mind
and suddenly you would be
at peace,
and ask yourself, "I wonder
if there are any catfish
in this pond? It seems like
a perfect place for them."
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
