Why would you eat carpet?

S.'s dog ate large portions of carpet around the house on Saturday. I tried to take him for a walk yesterday, he sat down in an almost meditative position on the neighbors lawn. I asked him if he was too hot and wanted to go home and he responded by barfing up part of the downstairs carpet. When he finished he said he wanted to go back home, we walked back to the front yard. He sampled some grass but not the good barf inducing kind so I directed him to where it was growing. He grazed and after a spell vomited up more downstairs carpet, then a little upstairs carpet too. Six generous clumps. Some I had to extract from his throat as they were stuck half way. Delightful on a 90 degree day.

Rum and Coke, Vodka and Tonic

I'm stumbling through wicked writer's block...

We were at a dive bar. There were two sets of friends who didn't know each other and despite this fact I couldn't be the bridge between them. Eventually I didn't need to be. I sat and watched them talk, watched them listen.

Des and C. were there. They came all the way from Brooklyn to sit in this loud place with me and people they didn't know. To sit and chat on the upper-upper westside when they would have preferred the lower east. I vowed next time to travel to where ever they told me to go. I so owe them.

For a spell I'd been fluttery, talky robin, but my thoughts were on my struggle from earlier in the day to right a wrong, awkwardly attempted, failed and spent. My emotions were listing to one side and finally I let them lay.

I leaned into the booth and watched as A. told stories, about what? I don't know. It didn't matter because what I cared about most was being with them. Near enough to feel their life, their presence rub against mine.

By the way Des, love C. He rocks.

wound coils deeply placed, called home

Through an absence of clarity, an absence in attention I ran into the banister, winding my way down to the street. An unmoving metal beast that gave a firm clang in response. I held my breath and waited for the pain to ease.
Through the day the pain sat in my heart instead of my hip. A bruise was there, sensitive to the touch. I rubbed the wound and it was real. And with each touch the ache spread and in the ache came a questioning of what is Best. And does Best answer my call or am I deaf to it's plea to silence and patience and all those lovely slow things?
What step and to what direction rests comfortably in my gate? A steady path with no brambles to pierce my bruised hip and heart. And through a lapse in steady footing I've crashed and lent my bruise to another and now they're spending time cleaning up the discomfort and winding their insides back up into the coil they call home.

Why? I don't know..

I went through a year long phase as a kid where I refused to bathe. I waged a war against soap and other dirt removing products. During the summer there was a week where I got up in the morning reached down and pulled on my favorite purple striped, terry-cloth zip up jumper everyday that week.
I would crawl in the grass, scoot through dirt and sweat like the tomboy I was on a Michigan summer day. I'd go home and pretend to be a ghost in the hopes my mom wouldn't notice. In her usual half hearted way she would call up for me to take a shower. I would sit very still like a deer listening for a predator, toys in hand, careful to not clink them together. When she got no response she would walk away and I would resume my life as I saw fit.
This all changed of course. Everything perfect and blissful ends. Dad came home from a long hiatus to again rule the roost. There was more insistence on getting my nasty ass in the shower. Dad was a tough ass but he couldn't control everything. He would corner me with reprimands about my stink and direct me into the bathroom, turn on the shower, make me get in in his presence and close the bathroom door and sit in the living room right outside until I was done.
I would plaster myself against the side of the shower, avoiding the spray. I would stand that way for an eternity of ten minutes and at the very end, lean my head into the water to wet my hair as evidence that I'd washed. Towel off my hair and put on my pjs. Viola! clean (looking) kid. Maybe they weren't fooled, but in my little 9 year old brain I'd won.

Ahhh, those were the days...

Do you know what that says?

There was a guy who sat across from me on the train. He was very unassuming. Average, almost boring. He looked like he may have just come here from another country which made me question if he knew what his shirt said.

My dad has pointed out, some folks wear shirts without knowing what they say. Dad, who lives in Mexico says, "It would seem that if the Mexicans are going to wear American T-shirts with messages written on them they should, at least, understand the words. Being a little better versed in the verbiage one is carrying around might eliminate seeing silver-haired old ladies at mass wearing T-shirts that announce: 'SHIT HAPPENS!' or 'DO ME NOW!'"

Another reason I thought he might not know what his shirt said was because he never expressed any I-know-what-you're-laughing-at acknowledgment in his expression when everytime I looked at his shirt I had to supress mass amounts of laughter. He'd just look at me and blink.

His shirt said:
If you lick them, they will come

It's true and funny. I wonder if he knew.

Greetings and Goodbyes Amoungst Friends

Greetings (with translations)

Me: What? (Hi! How are you?)

KM: Laughter (hahahahaha)
KM: I can't believe you answered the phone like that. (I'm fine and you?)
KM: Don't answer it like that again or I'll come out to NYC and kick your ass. (Maybe I'll come visit. We can go to a Yankee's game!)

Me: Yeah right, scary. (That would be fun!)

****

Goodbyes

KM: Ok I need to go, cause you're dumb. (It's been nice chatting with you)

Me: And you're a bitch so it works out. (Indeed, lets do it again soon)

KM: Ok, cool. (Sounds like a plan)

Me: Bye (Bye)

KM: Bye (Bye)

h2fucking0

I'm always thirsty. It doesn't matter how many glasses of water I've had it's never enough..I'm on my 5th glass this morning.
Don't tell me I'm thirsting for something on a soul level. A metaphysical yearning...that's too hard.
Just tell me what to do to fucking hydrate.

Sincerely,
Eyeing Your Bottled Water.

a sliding feeling

I opened the door and you lent me your palm and in it was nothing. In nothing, I write as I guess and assume. I will bring a story to form with only one side and no legs. It will hobble as bad stories do.
And then I will paint with whatever cans of color are near as I'm blind with unknowing. I'll use my hands and a brush, thick with hard bristles that leave streaks where the white shows through.
My words will not read and my color will not please and this is what I've made with nothing.

rude walker lady

I was crossing the street and the woman walking next to me cut in front of me and my dogs. I had to stop in mid step to not run into this princess. She half heartedly looked over her shoulder and said, 'sorry...' in a blasé I'm-so-disinterested-in-your-existance-I-could-fall-asleep tone. I could almost smell her breath, she was that close. I laughed and said 'yeah' with what I hoped was heavy sarcasm and a touch of you're-a-bitch tone. Boy, I really told her...

Actually, yes you would be right if you guessed I'm not the most aggressive person but I have kicked the heels of people who have done this before. Which is a good lesson or maybe it just feels good to me. It lets the asshats know that I'm irritated, they're rude and that they almost got stepped on because of it.

homo sticker

You know the bumper stickers representing gay folks that are rainbows? I think they first started out as a little flag then graduated into the rainbow triangle.
When I was in my twenties I did my part in being here, queer, pointing and yelling 'get used to it'. I sported my share of stickers. But making a constant statement gets old and I don't care that the person driving behind me knows I'm gay and proud of who I am and angry I don't have the same rights he/she does even though I pay the same fucking taxes and am obligated to the same laws as they. The good and bad of being gay is only a part of me.
Be that said, I'm glad other people stick their colorful proclamations to their cars, especially young folks. Proud and strong is good. It's a decent expression of self acceptance...
But I've watched the gay rainbow stickers evolve into some ridiculous forms. Yesterday I saw gay lady bugs..WTF? There is a version of The Grateful Deads teddy bears in rainbow gay. Yay! We're gay! We're so cutesy!
I can't help but roll my eyes. Am I being judgemental? Condescending? Acting like an old person?
What are you thoughts on this? Bumper sticker cutesy=good or retarded? Lend me your thoughts, I'm willing to bend my opinions but I refuse to think rainbow ladybugs are anything but dumbass.

avoidance

Something smells in the kitchen. It's like olives, where olives shouldn't be. I was doing the dishes and the smell refused to leave me to my task. I'm afraid to investigate. Maybe it will go away..

Grunt, they'll get it.

150 degrees today in NYC. We pedestrians moved about silently almost intolerably, 'No I can't move an inch to let you by, don't you see how hot I am?'
Everyone I knew who passed said some remark like 'arrgh fuck!', 'hot enough?', 'this sucks..'
In response I grunted, rolled my eyes and gave my best, whadda-ya-gonna-do? look. I was in Energy Saver Mode, don't ask for a thought process or verbalization of such. Not in this fucking heat. Just take to cave man lingo, we'll be fine.
At several points in the day I thought I was going to have some strange physical eruption, like my insides were going to burst out of my skin and run for the AC. I couldn't figure out what was happening, the only thing I could guess was that I might be in the process of eventually passing out but as I never have I wasn't sure.
At first I thought this would be a fine idea. I could fall over and people would come up and look at me and say to each other, 'she's passed out from the heat' and then I would wake up and call my clients and tell them I couldn't finish my walks as I had fainted and am now a delicate little flower who needs to be pampered by going home.
But then I started thinking about how I might fall, like face forward for instance. I would bust my nose and my sunglasses and my dogs might wander into the street and those helpful people standing over me might like my sporty bag that I had three hundred dollars in. So I decided fuck it and finish up.
I'll save the fainting for a time I can fall on some cute girls (S.) soft bed...say maybe tomorrow night?

Another NYC sob story
And another stiflingly hot story

I'm a cat, not a mouse

There is a crazy lurking near me....
She has grown dark wings that match the ominous storm she's brewing. She's hunting me with words that intend to cut and bind me to her. Her mind has flown and she's left with bits of cheese for the mouse trap she sets even though there are no mice to be caught.
A musty, empty abode, she's shuffling through, pant cuffs dirty and worn, hands flick here then there directing her mental violence. Half finished remarks and lying truths make up the lines of the play she's written about me. The only actors are her, she and herself. She acts out each role and claims it's me who's concocted the plot, confessed to murder and organized the death of her happiness.
Sitting in my front row seat peeking through my fingers, unnerved and embarrassed for me, for her. I won't utter a word, I don't wake animals from violent dreams. I'm hearing the popping and snapping of sanity folding in on itself.

hell hath no fury like a overheated dog walker..

Various definitions of Hell: perdition, Inferno, infernal region, nether region, pit -- ((Christianity) the abode of Satan and the forces of evil; where sinners suffer eternal punishment.
Also see, NYC.

Just set me on fire already..

DESmerelda

Did you know that the wonderful des is afraid of squirrels? And because I adore her cause she's a lovely friend and funny as hell and has pinkish hair a lot of the time and has winged creatures for tattoos I dedicate this pic to her, even though I already sent it to her via email. I want to show my love in the public forum as well.

Must sleep

I was standing at a stop light, looking at it, waiting for it to change. Suddenly, the stop light, the sky and trees shifted positions, everything moved and I didn't understand what was happening until I realized I was falling backwards. Seriously, I was asleep with my eyes open and two fuzzy dogs in hand. WTF?
Developing narcolepsy.

I am not prepared

Another dream. Desperate pleas for K to take me back. For K to love me again.
I kept grabbing her arms and holding her still. I thought if I begged, if I touched her long enough I would remind her of me and she would cave. Not once, not once. She didn't want me.
A second dream screen played on the side. It contained K and her new love, so happy. They were going to visit Ks family for the first time. I was bent and doubled in the pain of being replaced so completely.
More grappling and pleading on my part and eventually K became blind to me. Her eyes were unfocused and she looked beyond to someone behind me. I was invisible right in front of her and she moved away into a hazy world, happy and away. All I could do was watch, I no longer had any pull.
There was a vague sense of suffocation or more like drowning. Everything was blue and underwater like.
This dream has tripped me up. Where I wasn't feeling this empty overwhelming loss, the ache has come to sit again. For now.

I know where it comes from.
K has been so nice and friendly. Friendly. She is funny and friendly. Says things friends say to friends, to me. To me. I am not her friend but she has been in her new relationship long enough, gotten over me long enough that now I am nothing more than the past and a friend. A friend.
Although I go along and even encourage the banter between us I'm not ready for my new role. I haven't rehearsed and each nicety scrapes my heart and bleeds.

long ass day

Do you know how far one gets on cheese and crackers, Fritos and mini Mounds candies as a diet in the day of a dog walker? Not very.

Today I was visually felt up by a straight girl on the train. She couldn't keep her eyes off me and I was meserized by her behavior as most women, gay or straight haven't the nuts for such boldness.
When I got on the train she was standing, I took a seat across from her and she was glued to me from then on. I actually laughed. She started with my face then cruised my entire length to my toes and contemplated them for a while. She likes feet. Then she'd start all over again.
A seat became available across from me, she sat and looked me straight in the eyes and I smiled with a little laugh. She was completely unfazed. Through out the ride I would catch her checking me out. It was fun..
Yes, yes she may have been gay but she was sporting a fat wedding ring, but she had on a 92st Y shirt...hmm
What do you think?

Italy won. Woohoo!

I apprieciate the small things. Like the two guys who were standing in line to pee at the restaurant my friends and I went to to watch the world cup finals. As usual the line was 5 to 1 women. Two bathrooms. The guys suggested we go co-ed and let a slew of us in front of them use their potty. Love them and gentlemen, this is what gets guys laid.

Dont make me

I'm away petsitting a handicapped Saint Bernard. Christ what a high maintanence weekend this is going to be. Be back Sunday night. Miss you love you bye.

slightly askew as usual

Remember Cee Cee?
Had a little chat with her today.
She's proud of how well I am after breaking up with the ex. She does think I'm too skinny though and I need to eat some of those high calorie energy bars to get myself to a better weight.
She's curious about how I date and finds meeting people on the internet interesting but would never put her picture online. I told her she would never get any responses if she didn't so she said she'd try and meet people on craigslist instead. Even though it's mostly just people who are trying to get laid or those who are looking for platonic relationships which 'is just a subtle way of saying they just want to get laid'.
According to her, the evil group of dog owners are siding with the ex in the law suit still. I kept asking her how she knew this and told her that people aren't going to invest enough of themselves into the problems of an acquaintance by becoming witnesses against her moral character as a good dog mom.
She went into another rant about how it is a fact that they are because of the look Estelle gave her the other day when she was talking to Dave and then when Mark said hi he looked away and everyone is whispering when she walks by...I didn't get all of what she was saying as I didn't get to sleep till very late last night and I was just pretending to believe this nutty rant anyways.
Meanwhile Elvis, one of her two golden retrievers was sitting next to me, pawing me with her hung hooves and dripping her nasty slobbery tennis ball all over me. I couldn't help but scrunch my face up into a pinched twist of disgust and intolerance. So much so someone walking by would never know I was a dog walker and lover. Cee Cee of course never noticed.
As Elvis is scratching and dripping all over me Cee Cees other dog had run over and forced her fat head into the bag of an old man who looked on helplessly as she foraged for food.
All in all it was a good time.

The 1 train at 168th street

There is a subway stop here in the city that closely resembles the caverns of hell. You enter it from an elevator, it's deep underground. Just as you're off the elevator the hot dead air hits you and sucks you into it's strange quiet. This station seems to absorb all the echo out of noise, every sound is flat and ominous.

Yesterday being a holiday the schedules ran at a lazy stroll which is shit when you're waiting at this particular stop. A trip that usually takes me a half hour took me an hour and 15.

Even the cockroach I was harassing could hardly bother to make an effort to run from my flip flop. Really, there is no oxygen in the air. The only circulation that occurs is when the trains pass through forcing other stations air into it.

For the 14th time, I leaned over the edge looking for a downtown train. What I saw was the backs of 20 other heads, doing the same. Finally. Lights approaching. Train pulls in, oh good it looks fairly empty, I'll get a seat.

Evil conductor blares the horn and roars by. The din of protest by the lot of us was close to mob behavior. We're standing around in our best summer 4th of July gear bathed in sweat and the fucker blows by.

Another 10 minutes and an uptown train pulls in on the other platform. Usually this is good, the train's brought more fresh, stale air from further down. But this train decided it needs to sit in the station. Motors running, kicking off 250 degree heat, filling our cavern of hell with more fire. It sat for 10 minutes pumping us with it's hot noise, sucking all the oxygen with it.

I was withering and my cockroach had disappeared, he'd found a way out.

There were close to 50-60 people on the platform by now and considering our predicament our patient behavior made me proud. And of course a train did come and only some of us got a seat but all of us got the fuck out of the cavern of hell and that my friend, was a great joy.

Humor me

I'm blank like copy paper sitting in the printer waiting. Although, copy paper is so quiet.
My emptiness is more like one of those calls you get where someone accidentally dialed you 'cause their phone was in their pocket and all you hear is the rub of their pants as they walk and the city noise around them.
No message, just rub. So I'm asking you to do the work.
I want to know from you:
How do you define Karma?
If you believe in it, what is your responsibility to life within it's framework?

If these questions make your little pink eyes roll back in your heads, stay with me.

Simpleton questions for easily distracted:
What's your favorite color, little rabbit?
left paw-ed or right paw-ed?

All of you stray bloggers just whizzing by, settle in, make a comment.

A small storm sat over the ocean and rained itself out. Water back to water, it was a great dream.

and she's only 5'1

My friend S has a unique view of life. Travels all over the world. By herself (and her beloved dog), with very little money. Seeks new people in new places, wondering what adventures they offer. What their lives hold that she hasn't experienced.
She occasionally shop lifts at big department stores, 'they rip people off', has committed insurance fraud and has transported drugs from one country to another for personal use.
What's not to like? She's Adventure Girl. It's her thing. I can't condemn her for it, she's too interesting to reject. What do you do with friends like this? Hold out your hand when she needs it, watch and hope no one gets hurt.
She's worth it.

**Was that not enough? Does she not deserve Adventure Girl status in your eyes? How about the trip her and her friends are planning to Cuba? It includes a boat and smuggling people back to the US.
Better? Works for me.