Friday, February 02, 2007

The Girl 4

go to the beginning of the story

Waking up Not Dead…

“Freight train, each car looks the same”. Distantly, foggily, weirdly the song permeated her brain. She couldn’t move, couldn’t see and felt sick to her stomach. Gradually, her senses awoke. Ann slowly lifted her head from the arm of the couch and moved her left leg. This movement created a loud clanging sound that sent Sam running to the kitchen for cover. Seems that the eleven beer bottles, perched precariously on the coffee table, had crashed to the floor. Still groggy, Annie sat up straight, rubbed her eyes and tried to focus. It did not work. She was absolutely unable to figure out the whole scene. “Did I have a party?” she thought. Just then, like a bullet, it hit her. “I am not dead”, she surmised. “Holy shit!” she said aloud.

Standing was a horrible idea. For it produced enough change in her equilibrium, that she projectile vomited across the living room. The smell was rancid. A combination of beer and garlic (most likely from her shrimp scampi the day before) and wine (OK, so she had one glass to set the mood of death) and aspirin filled the room. The smell of the puke made her heave again. The carpet was taking a beating. After the second spell had subsided, she ran to the bathroom, got naked and jumped in the shower. Gently, she turned the knob to left the cold stinging water became tepid, then warm and finally, hot. Ann held the glass shower door for balance, moved forward and dunked her head under the steaming waterfall. She would remain there for forty-five minutes.

After the immersion, there were no more puking spells. Her stomach muscles ache from all the contractions, but the empty chamber settled down. Ironically, however, she had a massive headache. It was ironic to her because she had swallowed an entire bottle of aspirin. “What do you take for a headache brought on by aspirin?” she mused. The smile actually hurt. Making her way back to the kitchen for a glass of water, the scene of the episode was a wreck. Sam was smart enough to remain in the kitchen near her food and water bowls. She knew her owner was in trouble, so she arose to meet Annie, whom now had only a towel on for clothing. Sam licked Ann’s still wet leg, and pushed her nose under her hand. “Hey you”, Annie said.

Ann pushed the glass under the ice machine in the door of the freezer and filled a huge glass with ice and water. She took a long, slow sip of the liquid. She could not remember any time in her life that anything tasted as good as that water. She opened the latch on the back door and strolled out on the patio. It was cold in the New York morning air. She rested on a chair whose cushion had been stored for the winter. Form the patio she could see the park several lots away. There was a small child being pushed on a swing by a man. “My life can never be that simple again”, she thought. Her strength returning, she made a vow to herself. No matter how fucked up and sad her life gets, she would never try to end it again. The man and little girl were hugging. Annie felt a tear on her cheek and realized she had been crying. Just then, Sam put her paws in Ann’s lap. Their hug made Ann’s heart feel better.


Song of the Day: Better Days, by Bruce Springsteen

Thursday, February 01, 2007

The Girl 3

go to the beginning of the story

Waffles…

Breakfast is the most important meal of the day; right after dinner and lunch. Always a colossal conundrum deciding what to eat. Today is easy. It’s Monday. It’s waffle day. Not that she ever eats waffles anymore, but hell, it’s waffle day. What this means is that Ann makes waffles. Eight waffles to be exact. You see, four waffles are required for breakfast and four will be frozen for ice cream sandwiches after dinner. This was their routine.

God she misses making waffles with Ryan. He was such a great cook. He never measured any ingredient, but the result was always perfection. Conversely, no matter how meticulously she adhered to the directions, Ann’s waffles were basically Frisbees, suitable only for her dog, Sam. Sam is a whole different story. Suffice to say, she has her own host of issues.

After learning of Ryan’s death, Annie was dangerous. She considered suicide on many occasions. The most successful un-success was the aspirin episode. Not being a big fan of blood, self-mutilation and a fear of sharp objects, slitting her wrists was not an option. She also abhorred guns, so no luck there. Then she read on a website that you could actually kill yourself if you took enough aspirin. Perfect. Ann was in the abyss and this was her only way out.

She wanted to do it right. So she put on her favorite music, The Allman Brothers Band, got comfortable in jeans, a t-shirt and flip flops. Grabbed a 12 pack of her favorite beer, Yuengling, and placed in a cooler next to her couch. The website indicated that she would basically fall asleep at some point. If she was going to fall asleep anyway, she figured she should go out drunk on last time. For some reason, thinking back about that today makes her chuckle.

“OK, let’s do this”, she said, and opened beer number one. Just then, as if on cue, One Way Out came through the speakers. Annie smiled.

To be continued…


Song of the Day: One Way Out, by Allman Brothers Band

Wednesday, January 31, 2007

The Girl 2

go to the beginning of the story

"Good enough..."

Having dressed in her favorite funky, professional pants, her brown leather boots and brown cashmere sweater, she looked toward her jewelry box. This was her favorite part of the day. She loved all her jewelry and truly felt naked when she did not have it on. Many of her pieces she had purchased throughout the years, some were gifts and some were bequeathed to her from favorite Aunts, etc.

Today was a silver day she decided. In keeping with the funky mood, she chose 2 inch, hoop earrings. She loved to turn here head back and forth and feel them on her neck. A thin-chained silver necklace with a single teardrop shape made her smile. “I look good”, she thought. Of all things in the jewelry box, she treasured her rings the most. Each one had a story and that memory made each day she wore it special. After several minutes of debate, she decided that one ring for her forefinger is all she desired. The choice was simple, Aunt Bridget’s silver and opal ring.

As she slipped the ring into position, she sat back on her dressing room chair and was lost in a thought. The last time she had seen her Aunt was 10 years ago. It was summer and, as she did since she could remember, she was spending it at music camp. The camp was located in Pennsylvania, not far from her Aunt’s cabin. The highlight of her two months at camp was the last day. For on that day, crazy Aunt Bridget would pick her up, they would go back to the cabin and the weekend was spent with just the two of them. The two days of girl talk, cooking, reading, painting and hiking were the best of her summer. She dreaded the next week that she would need to go home and be dull little Annie again.

Ann kissed the ring, got up and looked again in the mirror. “Good enough”, she sighed.

To be continued…


Song of the Day: Misty Mountain Hop, by Led Zeppelin

Tuesday, January 30, 2007

The Girl

God I wish her well…

OK, not exactly the most upbeat of stories, but I saw this girl today. She was just so brilliant; a true presence on the Number 4 subway train. She stood by the doors, facing inward. She would only open her eyes at the station stops. Otherwise, she looked as if she could be dead; eyes closed, lips pursed and skin as ashen as I have ever seen. She was the highlight of my day, my week, perhaps even my pathetic month. I do not know her true story, but here is what I imagined it to be…

She woke up; at 6:03 AM, as always. She wakes up at 6:03 AM to remind her of the day her life changed forever. That was the exact time that she received the call that her boyfriend had died in a plane crash over Italy. Actually, the time in the US was 1:03 AM, but he traveled so often that the time conversion was instant in her head. It’s been 2 years, one month and four days since the call. Still, she misses him at the same time every day.

Upon waking, she removes his beat up Fordham t-shirt and gets in the shower. She has no meetings today, so pants are on option. That being the case, shaving her legs will not happen. She wonders when she started brushing her teeth in the shower. She used to do it at the sink. Not important enough to continue her thought, she moves on to the day ahead.

As she dries of her nearly perfect body with a sea foam green towel, she looks in the mirror. She smiles like an angel; she is beautiful. Then she cries. Just for one minute, like she does every day. She rewashes her face and moves to the next step of her well planned life. She has no idea what will happen to her in just two short hours.

To be continued…


Song of the Day: Dirty Boulevard, by Lou Reed

Monday, January 29, 2007

A Real Job

I have one this week…

I am one of the minions again. For the entire week, I will be dragging my sorry ass to NY City for meetings in our office. This is not the norm for me since I have been working remotely from my home office. Actually, truth be told, I spend about half of the month in any one of our offices across the country. For example, I will be in Chicago all next week.

Anyway, as an interesting anecdote, my office looks out at 42nd Street & Madison Avenue. I am constantly amazed by the amount of people that walk by all day long. Do these people not work? I mean, there are millions of them. Young, old, fat, skinny, men and women. And kids. Hello, school? I catch myself at times just staring, making up stories for them. Maybe I’ll share a couple this week.

Happy Monday, everyone! I’m hard at work at my real job…


Song of the Day: Drive My Car, by The Beatles

Friday, January 26, 2007

The Friday 5, 15 or 50...Depends on My Mood

People that think, and the reason for my admiration...

!) Eninstien, e=mc2
2) Johnadam, being my friend
3) Jack Welch, Hello- GE
4) My boss, I am not fired...yet
5) Eminem, 8 Mile (just watch it)

Life is thinkable...

Song of the day: War Pigs, by Ozzy

Thursday, January 25, 2007

Women Hate Me

A fact, not an observation...

In the lost minutes, he sees years, not days.

He knows...


Song of the day: We Belong, by Pat Benatar

Wednesday, January 24, 2007

OK, OK, New York City is Cool

If you live long enough…

Sometimes, things sneak up on you. Like the dude whose girl you’re snaking (accidentally). Or the expired milk you drank last night. You get the point. Anyway, my present working arrangement allows me to work from my home office. Yes, I live at the beach, so the days and the views are not so bad. I plug away all day in my Nike sneakers, torn shorts and my “It’s all about me” t-shirt. I get paid to think, not look good…

To the point; I commuted to “the city” today and the energy was palpable. I stepped off the ferry – yes, the $200 a week ferry – and my first footstep reminded me of why I have made this crazy commute for 15 years (yes, I began working when I was 5). Not to bring down the mood in this inspiring post, but I was downtown on 9/11. I was scared, pissed, scared, confused, and finally relieved to get off the island. That relief was the opposite today as I wanted nothing more than to get on the island. I cannot do it every day because some has to feed my cat, but I’ll do it more after my experience today. I promise…

Crap, I hate when I’m wrong.


Song of the day: In The City, by Eagles

Tuesday, January 23, 2007

State Of My Union

Hint: It's not good...

Like many of you, I am tired of our current direction on many things:
  • Iraq
  • The environment
  • Health care

Oh, you know the deal. I have a daughter. It's her world more than mine. I want more for her.

Bring on the candidates!

Song of the day: Piss It All Away, by Puddle of Mudd

Monday, January 22, 2007

Blue Monday

Now it all makes sense...

I read today that this Monday of the year is known as Blue Monday. It seems that our lack of ability to repay our Christmas debt, need for a vacation, the weather and New Years' resolutions not realized all contribute. Let me say that I, for one, am convinced.

But today, contrary to my actions in years' past, I am in a good mood. The weather sucks, I have no money (relatively), I need a vacation (which I will get in February), I have been going to the gym. 50/50? I'll take it!

The doctor in the article suggested that we can do something to cheer our fellow humans up. OK, here goes...you look mahhhvelous!!


Song of the day: Turn to Stone, by Electric Light Orchestra

Friday, January 19, 2007

The Friday 5, 15 or 50...Depends on My Mood

Things that...

...smell good to me

1) Very Sexy 2 - for Women (another secret of Victoria's)
2) Sea air
3) Steak Fajitas
4) Fresh beer
5) My daughter after a long day in the summer sun

Let's stop there for now. After all, I'm just getting the old feet wet again. Speaking of that...snow blows!

Happy weekend, all.

Song of the day: Little Miss Magic, by Buffett

Thursday, January 18, 2007

I See Dead People

Funny How Life Works...

So, yesterday was the 10th anniversary of my Father's death. I was surprised how much it affected me. Don't get me wrong, I miss the guy more than anything, and would trade many and much to have him look at me again. It's just that as days, and months, and years go by, life allows your hurt to mellow from irreparable to manageable.

Yesterday was tough.

Anyway, it got me thinking of what would make me feel better. So, I went to the cemetery, got drunk, made a list and fell down. Today I read the list and it said, among other ramblings, (barely legible) "blog again". OK, here I am, blogging. Feel better? Slightly.

Love you Dad...


Song of the day: Daddy's Hands, by Holly Dunn

Sunday, July 09, 2006

Hi, Again

Shit storms are extremely indiscriminate...

Thank you.


If you said anything. And thank you if you said nothing. My blogging friends mean the world to me; truth be told, they always will. OK, so here is what happen - the order is as irrelevant as is my current disdain for life...

Moose looses his job (fuck)
Dad's sister (Aunt Geraldine - Ger) dies
Mom has full-blown emphysema
I am still a clueless observer

OK, fuck again. I am not a whiner, but can these people get a fucking break? I was a Pall Bearer at my Aunt's funeral. Honored.

Going to sleep. Fuck it.

I love you all, and really, thanks for the prodding to get me back (sort of).

Song of the day: In the Lap of the Gods, by Queen