Friday, June 30, 2006

The wheels are spinning too fast

I ran into a woman I know in the park. She sits for long hours with her two golden retrievers at her feet. I've always thought her a little strange but today she confirmed that it may be more than a little.
I walked up and said hi and she dives into a rant about a certain group of dog owners who are very cliché-ish. They huddle around each other and discuss each others dogs' medical symptoms. This group snubs her. They say 'Hi Cee Cee, I have to go. I have to get some coffee. I have to go brush my teeth. Then they scatter.
She tells me they are plotting with her ex to take her dogs away. The ex has hired a lawyer and he is trying to sue her for custody and these evil dog owners are all the ex's witnesses. I asked her how she knew this and like most crazy people, gave me a rambling nonsensical, completely irrational explanation. Something about the rumors and attitude. Bad vibes prove this and that.
She's also convinced her lawyer is secretly working with her ex's lawyer and that all will be lost but she keeps paying him.
I kept backing away. Instead of bidding me goodbye she got up and followed me as I retreated. Meanwhile this kid sits down to eat his lunch and her dog, who is off leash goes up to him and gets into his food. Cee Cee yells over, 'don't feed her!' [Aaahh he wouldn't be feeding her if she hadn't stuck her dumb face in his food, go get her and put her on leash for fucks sake.] All of which I didn't say as I like Cee Cee and feel for her craziness.

Thursday, June 29, 2006

A little of this, a little of that

-My client told me her cat rapes soft sweaters. I greeted this information with a hearty welcome, as odd behavior in animals is something I live for. I'm hoping to one day witness this assault.

-A friend and I were chatting yesterday. Her toes were painted and I pointed and said 'ooo la la'. She proceeded to pull her shirt aside and show me her bra which matched the color of her toes. The second she did it I saw she was embarrassed and didn't really know why she was showing it to me. This made two of us.

-I love the sound of Portuguese. I seek out my friend J, the Brazilian kick boxing, dog walking extraordinaire) because he speaks it and so does V, the woman I'm dating, If I'm talking to her on my cell when I see him, I walk up and put the phone to his face. He's getting used to this, as it's not the first time I've violated his personal space with my cell.
He takes the phone and says 'Hi, how are you?'
V tells him he's supposed to speak Portuguese to her, as this is the reason I handed him the phone in the first place. He switches over and they talk about futbol and where J's from. They are so sweet to humor me.

My roommates teach me to speak to V in Port. They spell it out phonetically so I can pronounce it right, with a Brazilian accent. V likes this, so do I.

-Joan told me when she lived in Spain her apartment opened onto the ocean. At high tide she could jump out of her window into the water. This....well this is what we live for isn't it? Beautiful.

Wednesday, June 28, 2006

Bad dreams

I had a dream about my ex the other day. Her face was hot with accusations and anger. Made this way by long months of living in the constant pain my actions caused.
She was packing her suitcases. She was leaving me. I was laying in a bed, the room was all white and there were a lot of people milling around. I had so much I wanted to say to K but was inhibited by her anger and the strangers walking through. There was such a feeling of loss and missed opportunity. The hopelessness of the scene was very sad.
To the left of me, crouched and leaning against the wall was K's new girlfriend (this is a real person). She was there as a witness, an interloper. I was enraged when I saw K had brought her. K's face was hard and defiant, glad to see the pain in mine.
I reached out towards my replacement. I grabbed her hair, she stayed motionless, expressionless looking at me. I pulled harder and harder wanting her to cry out and struggle. Nothing.
With a tug, her head popped off like a dolls.
I had her head in my hands and still her expression was unchanging, she was unimpressed.
Talk about feeling powerless.

Tuesday, June 27, 2006

gathering their thoughts

This morning the boys outside sit on the benches deciding what to do with themselves. I welcome the rattling and muttering voices. They are my connection to the spinning world outside.
Their friends come by and with an elaborate shake of hands, greet one another. To ensure their machismo status they sit far apart, sometimes on separate benches, rarely looking at each other as they talk. They design themselves as only mildly interested in what they see. Aloof and styled.
The red headed white boy looks round, seeking something to motivate his day. He's found it and he's off, out of my sight into his own life. They've slowly scattered. It's quiet now.

Saturday, June 24, 2006

just smack the damn thing

The client I'm pet-sitting for has a computer. It's slowwwwww but I'll see if I can post.

A bit of bitching about New York City rainy days.

One must be very alert when walking the sidewalks through a sea of umbrellas.
I never have one, I lose mine. All the time. They go into the closet and I can't find them again. thus I can't protect myself from the rain or more importantly from a certain type of umbrella user.
There are those umbrella users who politely angle the umbrella away from you or lift it above your head when they near thus avoiding a facial assault. These folks I like and always smile and say thank you or mumble some sort of positive sounding noise in their direction.
There are those that move it just a hairs length away from you a second before impact, a form of the game chicken.
Then there are those who don't mind in the slightest, poking their little metally umbrella spikes right in your eye.
It is this last group that I try to teach a useless lesson to. Useless because people who stick pointy things in peoples face don't care one lick for lessons.
As they approach staring dumbly at me or into space I put my arm up as if to block the umbrella, if they leave it in the same position with no attempt to move it I hit it out of my way. Thus leaving them insulted.
There. That's the lesson. Did you learn from it?
(I suggest reading additional sidewalk shenanigans brought to you by des as she discusses how to avoid sidewalk collisions.)

Friday, June 23, 2006

off again

I'm away again on a pet sitting gig this weekend. Not the ex, just a client. She has the best NYC apartment ever. It's so comfortable and inviting. I haven't stayed there for years so I'm excited.
If she doesn't have a computer where I can blog from then I won't be seeing you till Sunday night. Have a great weekend.

Thursday, June 22, 2006

I can appreciate it

Ok, if you're interested in a hot heterosexual sex scene described by one of the participants I recommend a visit to, The Heart Approaches What It Yearns.
I dedicate this post to a certain person who, today accused me of not being a lesbian. Which I found to be a little odd and sad for them to be saying.

No speak spanish

My roommate R. and a group of his friends from his GED class had a party celebrating the last class for the summer. The class he's in is for spanish speaking people, most of whom are new to the country. R. is from Paraguay and recently moved here because of his marriage to J. my other lovely roommate.
J. and I went with him expecting karaoke in a dark bar. We arrived at a restaurant where we were to sit at a long table with 15 hispanic folks all very jovial and welcoming. (You know my penchant for hispanics, it was warming up to be a good time). Granted there was a bit of discomfort for Jane and I, we knew no one and we decided early on we would be making our way home within an hour or so.
In the meantime these two women came to our table offering fancy shots with the alcohol brand they were made from written on the backs of their, tied in the front, short, cleavage sporting tops. One of them was leaning over the top of my chair, if I had leaned back I would have rested in her breasts.
A short time later these two were back again with more shots and maracas. Why they would hand out maracas to a band of drinking people in a restaurant with other patrons in it is beyond me. But we did what was expected, made large amounts of noise. One of the men there was having a birthday soon so we sung Happy B-Day about six times at the top of our lungs.
I was so caught up watching these people. The friendships, the flirtations and as I'm a person who is not comfortable in large groups of strangers I wondered why I was comfortable now. After some thought I realized it's because I don't speak spanish. They didn't expect anything from me. I got to be with them as an observer, I could take the time to stare in their faces and study all of them. No one noticed. Except the old guy with the birthday coming up.
At one point he indicated he would like me to get up and dance with him like the very sexy couple at our table had just done. I indicated that this would not happen but because of his amusing nature I expressed my desire that he should get up on the table and dance for all of us. He then indicated that I was a nutty gringa and that this would not be happening either.
No karaoke for J. like she hoped for but good times regardless.

Wednesday, June 21, 2006

this may be a post only a woman will appreciate

So here's the quandry, you're in a gay couples apartment and you have your period. You use tamps. So you change out of your old one and what do you do with it?
They will freak if they find it. We aren't close. I'm their dog walker for christs sake. Next Saturday one of them will be emptying the bathroom trash and wonder what that rolled up thing is..
So I thought maybe I should put it in the kitchen can, it's bigger, more stuff will fall on the wad before they empty it. Then I thought, wonder if one of them accidentally throws something away and goes riffling through? I can hear the shriek from here.
My last option was to walk my loving bundle down the five story walk up or down, depending where you're coming from and deposit it in a can on the sidewalk. But wonder if it unravels as I throw it in?
It's in the bathroom trash.
I just thought of the worst scenerio of all. Halie the dog. Dogs love used tampons..

Monday, June 19, 2006

roots

I went with my friends (roommates) to the park last night. We laid on a blanket and watched the sun set. We teased a band of yuppie, pseudo hippy folk who came into a quiet space and filled it with a musical performance none of us were interested in.
We talked about my moving out and I said I felt a panic about it as I would love to live with them forever and they with me. And I would stay if it weren't for my animals and my stuff sitting in the ex's living room waiting for me to fetch it.
I have grown roots, I've willingly become attached and given my love to these two people and I wish to make whatever changes as minor as possible.
There is an available apartment in the building we're living in. It's not ideal but it keeps me close and we can move freely between our apartments, to eat Dominican chicharrones and drink a cerveza whenever we like. Thinking about it.

bored?

Do you like popping bubble wrap? Manic mode is best.
Brought to you by the lovely Elke.

Sunday, June 18, 2006

Dad's Day

Did you know it was Father's Day? I didn't until my dad told me. Not exactly the person I would have liked to remind me. Feeling like an unfit daughter.

Hazy with heat

It's hot here. I'm sitting, watching the AC fan blow the curtain back and forth. What to do? I want to look for apartments but there are so few listed right now. Waiting.

I should go to the park...but it's so hot. I'll wait till Fresh Direct delivers the groceries at 5pm, then I'll go.

Have you seen Hustle and Flow? Great movie. Just watched it. The guy, I've forgotten his name. Very easy on the eyes, even to the likes of me, fanning self.
I was surprised that I was tearing up through most of the movie. It really moved me. I found it to be a metaphor for the struggles of everyone trying to climb from the stuck and wretched life they're living to one that empowers them.

I think I'm having a teensy bit of PMS...(D. don't you dare use this info against me!)
"So you're saying this because you're PMSing." <-----This sentence causes wars. Most historians don't know this. Patronizing a woman over exuberant emotions will get you killed.
Yeah the emotion is higher, but my brain is still functioning properly.

Dear Universe,

I send my intentions to you for an apartment which I will love and experience great joy in. I ask that you manifest it and show me a sign that it was an answer to my intentions and a gift from you.

Thank you, thank you, thank you.

Saturday, June 17, 2006

drew blood

Last night at the ex's apartment, pet-sitting the animals went like this.. Kept my friend on the phone for as long as he could stay awake. Fell asleep for three hours then woke every hour after, clenching my teeth, willing myself to not tear out of there and never come back. Today, called pet-sitting friend to come tonight instead of tomorrow morning to relieve me. Took my dog with friends and went to the lake. Great time. Got back to ex's in time for pet-sitter to come. And just to round off the day on a positive note, dog bit friend.

Thursday, June 15, 2006

yeah sounds good

After I leashed my clients dogs and headed for the door she pulled me aside and asked my professional opinion regarding whether she should tile her daughters desk top in her room. I can only conclude my client was feeling lonely and needing interaction as I'm her dog-walker not her carpenter. I told her it was a great idea.

Gosh, I know they're small but..

Last week I went into the Subway shop to get a sandwich. One of the guys behind the counter said, "Yes sir?" I stood there staring, then pointed at my boobs and said, "My hair is short but I'm a girl." They had great fun with that.

Wednesday, June 14, 2006

Gringa

I'm just one of those white girls that loves living in a predominately hispanic neighborhood. I didn't realize this until I moved up here to Inwood (Upper-Manhattan). Every country is represented in this neighborhood. I love it.
I tried to explain this to a Caucasian woman who asked me if I was uncomfortable living up here. "Not at all," I said, "I prefer it to the whiteness of the upper-westside." She wondered why, I did too. I told her it might be because I'm from Arizona and most of my friends, lovers and some family members are mexican. It's a culture I feel really comfortable with. Granted, all hispanic folks are not like Mexicans but they speak the same language, and have some similar social and religious beliefs.
My step-mom and one of my roommates are hispanic. Really, I can't get enough. Take me where the hispanics are and no one will get hurt.

Tuesday, June 13, 2006

The Hallalujah Man

First off, let me apoligize for the fucking video. I edited it so it was upright then uploaded it and the damn thing kept coming up sideways. Just tilt your head to the left and everything will be fine.

A few years ago I would have rolled my eyes as I passed this gentleman, as I usually have a low tolerance for any bible thumping. But I've had a change of heart, in the right situations. Hallalujah Man being one of them.



I didn't catch on video the moments where he says, 'I love you' over and over but joy dances in his eyes and I get the feeling he speaks the words believing his god says them through him. I'm moved by his intentions, it doesn't matter one stitch if I believe. Just his belief could heal the world.

Sunday, June 11, 2006

But I had these three rooms painted...

I went and looked at an apartment for rent. It's an indefinite sublet. The man who lives there has a sick mother in California who he's going to move in with and care for. The place is huge. And in major disrepair. Six rooms loaded with water damage, peeling plaster, paint and wood floors covered in linoleum from the sixties.
The man is reluctant to have the super repair this mess because the super told him he would need 3-4 weeks to do it. Why Mr. Man thought this to be outrageous is beyond me. He's lived in this hovel since 1969 and apparently it looks to him the way it looked when he was eight. It doesn't.
He said he couldn't guarantee that the super would do any repairs and that I would have to like it enough as is to move in. Fuck this.
With that being said, am I willing to pursue this matter? Ask him to arrange a meeting with the super and I so I can attempt to get a guarantee of work from the man? Or do I want to continue looking for a place that won't be as huge but well cared for and clean? Is this going to be a missed opportunity? Or a missed pain in the ass?
Maybe I ought to practice my awkward, unskilled skills of bargaining. This guy is a defensive, tense person so it would be a difficult experience and frankly I think he'll bail if I expect more than dust and crust. What to do..

tighten your nuts

I don't know what to expect from my heart today. It seems best to lay in my soft bed with the sleeping cat on my head. She's my protection from martian mind rays. She's my tin foil hat. I'm either crazy or I'm a wheel not properly secured on a car. I go tha-dump-tha-dump-tha-dump.
Broken like everyone else, just a little more obvious today.

Thursday, June 08, 2006

But I'm a really good person...

I asked a friend, Joan if she knew of a good petsitter. She did and gave me the number saying in her very french accent, "She's a very good person." I called the woman and arranged the petsitting gig for this Saturday and Sunday. In the process she asked me where I was going, and as I sometimes do, as I like to be precise, I told her it was a complicated situation. That she would be staying at my ex's apartment where our dog and cats live and that I don't live there, I'm not the one leaving, the ex is and that I, for various personal reasons can't stand to be there for more than a couple of days. (I'm staying Thurs. and Fri. only).
Clearly as you read this you're saying, "This broad gives way too much info." You're right and not the first to say it.
Edit, delete and edit. I tell myself often.
So we organize and we're done. I call Joan back and thank her. I ask her if this woman is a lesbian by chance. I couldn't help it, her voice was nice and gave off that vibe. I was curious. No she's not. And this is where everything that can happen regarding misunderstandings and language barriers does.
Somehow Joan assumes I'm asking because I'm afraid the petsitter will reject me and my pets if she knew I was a lesbian. I told her this is not why I asked that I'd told this woman the situation and all was fine. My friend in her best open-minded-pro-gay-teaching-me-to-be-confident-and-not-to-worry-about-such-things way, proceeds to launch into how I shouldn't have to tell anyone about my personal life and that this woman would accept whoever I was and that I shouldn't worry about such things.
I was very irritated and when Joan gets something in her head that's it. She gets on her pro-humanitarian soap box and lectures about her supreme ability to accept and love everybody and everybody else should do the same. This tirade ensued so I left this conversation to the gods that file our many misunderstandings.
So yesterday she tells me Pamela, her daughter speaks to the woman who's petsitting for me. They're friends. And wouldn't you know, Pamela (as well meaning as mom) asks the woman if I told her about myself and if that was ok with her. When the woman says yes, fine, doesn't matter. Pamela gets the green light and continues saying I shouldn't have had to do that as it's ok and we're all just one big family here on earth. Soap box talk. Joan tells me Pamela and she told the woman, "She's a lesbian But, she's a really good person." That everything was ok, just fine.
What the fuck?
This is where I must get on MY soap box and say to all well meaning folks, If you really believe in the equality and inclusion of all, check the language you're using, you may find you need to ask yourself if you really practice the philosophy you preach. And don't preach for christ sake. It makes you a target for people with blogs.

Tuesday, June 06, 2006

Good for relieving Bush aggression

This is from the lovely Jane and Barbara. planet dan You can move him around using the cursor.

The funniest question I didn't ask

What's all over this smarmy duck sponge?

Go dad go

Check out what my dad has to say about Bush and the GOP. Shaken and Stirred

Monday, June 05, 2006

My own seventies show

I knew this girl in high school. She was my idea of the coolest stoner chick ever. It was the eighties but she had that groovy, hippy vibe of the seventies. Her hair was long and curly, she was thin and tall with a beautiful face and great hippy clothes. She had the cutest boyfriend too, he was just as appealing. Every time I saw them they looked like they'd come from a Zeppelin concert.
I was smitten in a straight girl way and I befriended her hoping some of her groove would rub off on me. She was so sweet and friendly. I fantasized that we would soon be best friends and inseparable.
She had the coolest mom, she let my friend and her boyfriend have sex in her bedroom. Believe me this is so cool when you're a stoner in high school.
I would go over to her house and she would light incense and we'd sit around and listen to records. We'd chat, it would peter out into a rather continuous silence so I'd leave thinking it was just the setting that created the lull. It'll change.
So she'd come round my place and we'd go to the park and smoke a joint and sit and not...talk..and...sit...and sit..and not talk. This visits were excruciating. She could sit in silence for a half an hour at a time and be totally comfortable. I would be so stoned I'd space out and start to get a little paranoid that she'd said something I didn't hear. Or that she'd got up and walked away and I didn't notice.
I realized she was boring, I was devastated. I started lying to get out of these visits. Bad lies, but I was desperate. Finally one day she quit calling. I don't know what conclusion she came to regarding my eventual absence. But I wish I still knew her. The things I couldn't tolerate about her then I respect now. I hope she still enjoys just sitting, being content in the silence between friends. I hope she's well.

Another week of this, and more..

Yet another week of going to my ex-girlfriend's apartment were my dog lives and walking him mid day. My dog, Murdoch lives with 'Kate' exclusively until I find the right apartment that will allow pets. Kate and I have discussed sharing him. One month her, one month me. A continued tie to someone I would rather never see or hear about again or at least for a long while.

This next weekend Kate is going out of town. Usually I would go to her place and stay with Mur and our cats but with the recent information about an ongoing relationship she started before we broke up has effected me deeply. Especially because it was an indiscretion on my part that led to our inevitable break. I've been given a dose of the same medicine, it stinks and I retch daily.
The thought of sleeping and sitting where she's been with this new lover, soulmate, best friend ever, makes me want to abandon everything that still sits in that apartment that's mine. Especially anything that these two have embraced on. Going and staying there feels like a never ending nightmare.
So my choices are, to stay there for the weekend. Bring friends, dates and whoever shows up, play games, eat, talk and simply get through it. Or hire a fellow dog-walking friend to come petsit.
If we go the petsit route Kate thinks I should pay for half. Which normally I would do without hesitation but since I'm just this side of coming out of the hell I've felt when I found out about her new mate, I resent having to pay for something that wouldn't have been necessary if she had been honest about this person in the first place.
Through the 8 months before we broke, Kate condemned and judged me as forever a louse for my behavior. She led me to believe I deserved no reprieve from her disgust as she was of a higher moral caliber and would never behave as cruelly as I. I believed her on all counts. I was a wretched louse and her moral level surpassed mine.
But ultimately that simply wasn't true and when I found out about her actions, they highlighted many chapters in the history of our relationship that were shady and unclear. Situations where her actions I'd judged simply as reactions to my bad behavior. My faults had caused bad behavior in her. Large portions of our time together have different sides and angles from which to view them from. I no longer see that all bad has occurred as a reaction to me.
I no longer take the responsibility for being The Asshole in this relationship. I'm weary of the title. I behaved like an asshole, that will always be true but so did she, before and after the fact.
With all this being said. The quandary, should I stay, should I pay? What are your thoughts?

Saturday, June 03, 2006

Rain be damned

So we went to Coney Island. It rained.














And it rained some more














So we watched the ocean,






















and went to the arcade and played enough games to win the tickets we needed....
























To get our Coney Island souvenirs.










But the highlight of the trip was Dancing Arcade Man.



Then over to Nathans for hotdogs.

A conversation that should have happened

Well, you know I never meant for you to believe that I had feelings for you..
I turn on her and she's startled by my expression.
Don't fuck with me. If you need to lie about your behavior do it with the people who weren't there.
Her mouth opens but nothing comes out in her familiar amazed way that says she can't believe what I've just had the nerve to say to her. I try not but laugh out loud.
What?
You're amazed by my outbursts of emotion. You've always been mildly displeased and alarmed with my expression of embarrassments, passions and angers. You sit in your box and watch me like a zoo animal, waiting to see what I'll do next. You're fascinated, even after not seeing me and not wanting to, you find me here and you can't keep your eyes off of me. I expect you think I'll make some amazing scene that you can take home with you and live vicariously through.
Robin, I don't want to have this conversation.
I know you don't, go ahead and color me ugly, filter me though your interpretations. Tighten you belt and pretend you didn't want me. And the next time you see me you'll be glued to my every move again. When I think of what it must be like to be you, I can't breath.

Friday, June 02, 2006

plug it where?

Here is my new, cheapy digital camera.

You have no idea how many hours it took me to figure out how to work it and connect it to my computer so I could post pictures.

I'm a technical ignoramus.




I decided as I was unwrapping all of the camera paraphernalia that I would read every little bit of instruction for each little hoohaa until I came to this

this can't be read without a magnifying glass.

He's obsessed

I have a fellow dog-walking friend who has taken it upon himself to date the widest array of women. He takes pride in describing their various professions and personalities.
He's currently dating five women. One is a jazz musician, another commits herself to the advancement of electronics like IPod and other hoohaas. The rest, I forget.
I do remember some from the past like the stripper who is currently suing him for assault. She claims he tried to kill her when he walked out on her. As my friend is more liking to hurt himself than the women he falls for I'm going say I don't believe this. There is no evidence and it looks like the state is dropping charges. Stripper ex says if that happens she's taking him to small claims court and suing him for back rent. He lived with her for five days.
Then there's the doctor he married for two months, the opera singer and a lawyer somewhere in there.
He is so busy I don't know how he has the time to get to know these people. And don't think I don't get it. I realize the end product he's looking for is a vertical layout but he's one of these guys who loves women. He needs them, he needs their friendship, their presence. Most of his friends are women, they become a blur of friend/lover, lover/friend. I'm somewhere in this mix but with only a friend status. Even though he does check in whenever we spend more than a half an hour together just to make sure.
We sat on the stoop of his apartment where our conversation was paused only for him to flirt with the cute girls walking by. He thinks this is fun to do with me next to him because I like girls too. He says, "Did you see how big her boobs were?" I say, "Yes they're sitting right on her chest for everyone to see." And to discuss apparently. I listen to his philosophy on happiness= women, and he listens to my latest dramas, funnies and thrills and whether I like what he's saying or not, we have a connection, cause I'm a woman.