Friday, June 18, 2010
Regretfully Guilty?
One of the things I try to do is live my life without regrets. If I think I will regret something later on, that will have a profound impact on my thought process and the actions that may follow. I’ve done fairly well, especially once I got out of my teenage years.
But recently, I got hit pretty hard with some sad news. A girl I once new recently passed away. She was the first girl I ever really had a “thing” for. I am pretty sure she felt the same way for me, but we never did anything about it. I can’t say why we never did anything about it, but we didn’t. I introduced her to my best friend (at the time) and they ended up getting married and having some kids.
A couple of years ago I saw this guy at a bachelor party for another friend. We hadn’t spoken much in the last few years for no particular reason. Sometimes people just grow apart. He told me that she had recently been diagnosed with congenital heart failure. I was fairly shocked, but I also had heard that she had put on a lot of weight since having kids so while it made sense it didn’t mean that it was easy to hear.
About a day or two ago another friend called me to tell me she had recently passed away. Her husband didn’t know how to get in touch with me but wanted me to know since we had all been friends as kids and I had introduced them. I hadn’t talked to her in over 20 years, but it still saddens me to hear that she passed away. Over the years I had heard a couple of times she had tried to get in touch with me – probably just to say hello and see how I was doing, but I never responded. I am not sure why I didn’t. Maybe I was too busy. Maybe I was afraid of how to respond to her. Maybe I just wanted to remember her the way we were when we were kids. It doesn’t matter now, because she is gone and I’ll never have the opportunity again. I blew it. I fucked up and right now that is a regret I am realizing that I’ll have to live with the rest of my life.
I understand my friend (her husband) is hanging in there and has plenty of people surrounding him right now. I reached out to him, but I think he’s a little overwhelmed at the moment with people calling him and stopping by.
I also feel really bad for her parents. They had two kids, her older brother and her. Her older brother was shot and killed in front of one of my other friend’s house (purely coincidence –they didn’t know each other), and now she has passed on. She was a few years younger than me and her parents were a little younger than mine so I believe they are still alive. You shouldn’t have to outlive both of your children.
She will be missed by many.
But recently, I got hit pretty hard with some sad news. A girl I once new recently passed away. She was the first girl I ever really had a “thing” for. I am pretty sure she felt the same way for me, but we never did anything about it. I can’t say why we never did anything about it, but we didn’t. I introduced her to my best friend (at the time) and they ended up getting married and having some kids.
A couple of years ago I saw this guy at a bachelor party for another friend. We hadn’t spoken much in the last few years for no particular reason. Sometimes people just grow apart. He told me that she had recently been diagnosed with congenital heart failure. I was fairly shocked, but I also had heard that she had put on a lot of weight since having kids so while it made sense it didn’t mean that it was easy to hear.
About a day or two ago another friend called me to tell me she had recently passed away. Her husband didn’t know how to get in touch with me but wanted me to know since we had all been friends as kids and I had introduced them. I hadn’t talked to her in over 20 years, but it still saddens me to hear that she passed away. Over the years I had heard a couple of times she had tried to get in touch with me – probably just to say hello and see how I was doing, but I never responded. I am not sure why I didn’t. Maybe I was too busy. Maybe I was afraid of how to respond to her. Maybe I just wanted to remember her the way we were when we were kids. It doesn’t matter now, because she is gone and I’ll never have the opportunity again. I blew it. I fucked up and right now that is a regret I am realizing that I’ll have to live with the rest of my life.
I understand my friend (her husband) is hanging in there and has plenty of people surrounding him right now. I reached out to him, but I think he’s a little overwhelmed at the moment with people calling him and stopping by.
I also feel really bad for her parents. They had two kids, her older brother and her. Her older brother was shot and killed in front of one of my other friend’s house (purely coincidence –they didn’t know each other), and now she has passed on. She was a few years younger than me and her parents were a little younger than mine so I believe they are still alive. You shouldn’t have to outlive both of your children.
She will be missed by many.
Like…Like…Like…..
I’m not much a grammar and literacy snob – let’s face it, my own grammatical skills could use a lot of work – but lately the poor use of the word “like” has been driving me batty. Maybe it’s because I am stuck in a city with 8 million people jammed on top of each other and I can’t help but overhear a lot of other conversations.
Last week I was in a fairly nice restaurant having a really nice meal of steamed mussels followed by some sautéed soft shell crabs. At the table just in front of me were these two fairly young chicks having martini’s and dinner. My first impression is that they shouldn’t have been able to afford to eat there on a college budget, but eyeballing the shopping bags told me they had other means of income (daddy?).
Well one of the chicks was the talker and the other chick was the listener. Unfortunately, the talker was facing my direction so I could hear her just fine. She really enjoyed using the word “like” to the point it really started grating on my nerves. I would estimate that on average she used the word “like” at least two times in every sentence, perhaps more. It started to ruin my meal.
I was seriously close to offering to buy them a bottle of wine on one condition – she would have to stop using the word “like” for the remainder of the meal unless she actually used the word in a preposition / simile, a conjunction, or a verb. In other words, as non-slang because you can’t figure out how to speak properly and choose more descriptive words. I buy the wine, and I pay for it until the word “like” spews from you mouth.
My guess is that she would have found it fairly insulting – which it would have been. But it’s driving me nuts lately. My favorite is when someone says something to the effect of “I was like….”
NO. You weren’t “like” whatever. You had a thought or a feeling or something and you either were or were not in a particular state. You weren’t “like…”
I catch myself using the word from time to time in the same manner and I try to stop myself and remember there is always a word or phrase that is more descriptive and appropriate. Maybe I’ll get some business cards printed on them with this URL and drop one off next time I am stuck to someone that has to use the word every ten seconds.
Last week I was in a fairly nice restaurant having a really nice meal of steamed mussels followed by some sautéed soft shell crabs. At the table just in front of me were these two fairly young chicks having martini’s and dinner. My first impression is that they shouldn’t have been able to afford to eat there on a college budget, but eyeballing the shopping bags told me they had other means of income (daddy?).
Well one of the chicks was the talker and the other chick was the listener. Unfortunately, the talker was facing my direction so I could hear her just fine. She really enjoyed using the word “like” to the point it really started grating on my nerves. I would estimate that on average she used the word “like” at least two times in every sentence, perhaps more. It started to ruin my meal.
I was seriously close to offering to buy them a bottle of wine on one condition – she would have to stop using the word “like” for the remainder of the meal unless she actually used the word in a preposition / simile, a conjunction, or a verb. In other words, as non-slang because you can’t figure out how to speak properly and choose more descriptive words. I buy the wine, and I pay for it until the word “like” spews from you mouth.
My guess is that she would have found it fairly insulting – which it would have been. But it’s driving me nuts lately. My favorite is when someone says something to the effect of “I was like….”
NO. You weren’t “like” whatever. You had a thought or a feeling or something and you either were or were not in a particular state. You weren’t “like…”
I catch myself using the word from time to time in the same manner and I try to stop myself and remember there is always a word or phrase that is more descriptive and appropriate. Maybe I’ll get some business cards printed on them with this URL and drop one off next time I am stuck to someone that has to use the word every ten seconds.
Sunday, June 13, 2010
Feeling Selfish
One of my best friends is coming home on leave from Iraq. He’s going to get married in Vegas when he gets home. His original dates for getting married worked great for me, but the new ones are coinciding with a big project I have to do for work. No way I could get out of it. Now the dates (for work) are slipping so I am going to try to make it to the wedding.
I feel bad, because when I get to Vegas I’ll have been on the road for over a month. It will also take me about 8 hours of travel to get to Vegas so I can be there for him. I’m working long hours and the city (NYC) is really grating on me. I know when I get there I’ll be tired and burned out with one main thought on my mind – home.
Why is this selfish? I’m pretty sure I wrote about this before, but let’s look at it from my friend’s perspective. He’s on his way back to the U.S. right now. I don’t know if he’s in Iraq, Kuwait, Germany, or over the ocean somewhere. It takes him two to three days to get home!! That makes my eight hours of travel seem pretty insignificant right there.
Let’s also not forget that he has been away from home since November of last year. He’s been out of the country for almost as long. Again, I’ll have only been away from home for about 6 weeks once I make it to Vegas. I have a nice room, good restaurants and bars, and most of the creature comforts we have come to know in the U.S. He’s been standing guard duty in sandstorms, rooming with multiple people, and generally living a much harsher life than most of us.
So, while it doesn’t make me feel any better…it does kind of help me screw my head on straight. Whether you personally believe in the war, or whether or not “we” should be there, it’s really “they” that are there….the men and women of our armed forces and we should respect the sacrifice that they are making.
I’m going to go out and have a nice dinner tonight, and I’ll sleep safe thanks to those people who make that sacrifice every day – regardless of where they are. And, when I get to Vegas and I’m tired and worn out I’ll remember that one of my best friends has been through far worse to make it back home and marry the one he loves. Oh yeah, the party is ON!
I feel bad, because when I get to Vegas I’ll have been on the road for over a month. It will also take me about 8 hours of travel to get to Vegas so I can be there for him. I’m working long hours and the city (NYC) is really grating on me. I know when I get there I’ll be tired and burned out with one main thought on my mind – home.
Why is this selfish? I’m pretty sure I wrote about this before, but let’s look at it from my friend’s perspective. He’s on his way back to the U.S. right now. I don’t know if he’s in Iraq, Kuwait, Germany, or over the ocean somewhere. It takes him two to three days to get home!! That makes my eight hours of travel seem pretty insignificant right there.
Let’s also not forget that he has been away from home since November of last year. He’s been out of the country for almost as long. Again, I’ll have only been away from home for about 6 weeks once I make it to Vegas. I have a nice room, good restaurants and bars, and most of the creature comforts we have come to know in the U.S. He’s been standing guard duty in sandstorms, rooming with multiple people, and generally living a much harsher life than most of us.
So, while it doesn’t make me feel any better…it does kind of help me screw my head on straight. Whether you personally believe in the war, or whether or not “we” should be there, it’s really “they” that are there….the men and women of our armed forces and we should respect the sacrifice that they are making.
I’m going to go out and have a nice dinner tonight, and I’ll sleep safe thanks to those people who make that sacrifice every day – regardless of where they are. And, when I get to Vegas and I’m tired and worn out I’ll remember that one of my best friends has been through far worse to make it back home and marry the one he loves. Oh yeah, the party is ON!
Perspective is Everything!
Here we have Duke’s – a “famous” Manhattan BBQ restaurant and hang out (btw – not worth a crap in my opinion)
And here we have Dyke’s – an equally famous hang out for those urban man-hating lesbians that enjoy ribs, beer, and “finger” foods.
And here we have Dyke’s – an equally famous hang out for those urban man-hating lesbians that enjoy ribs, beer, and “finger” foods.
Tuesday, June 08, 2010
Jack in the Box and Assault Rifles
I just woke from a very strange dream. The dream was also a bad dream, though not necessarily a nightmare. Almost everything in the dream was related to things that have been happening around me:
· I was on a road trip (I am on a road trip, now)
· We were traveling in an RV and had stopped for a bite to eat (I’ve been emailing / IMing about traveling lately. I was also thinking about dinner before I fell asleep. My neighbors are competition Chili cooks and travel to cook offs in an RV. I was exchanging emails with them recently).
· In the dream I was in a generic fast food joint, though it could have been a jack-in-the-box. (haven’t quite figured out the relationship there).
· In the dream, I was naked, though I seemed to alternate between being naked and wearing my “I Love Midget Porn” t-shirt. Everybody was staring at me and was offended – especially the parents of the little kids (lately I’ve exchanged some emails that are dealing with academic freedom, and freedom of speech issues as well as having read some recent articles on it.).
· The fast food joint had run out of buns and people were really angry (not real sure about the buns, but I’m not partial to a burger with a ton of bread. The angry part is probably ‘cuz my window was open and I could hear the random noise of a NYC street with people yelling and screaming at each other, or because I was naked).
· For some reason, I couldn’t get my food so I was sitting there mostly naked and holding an M4 (hey! I like big guns, and I remember thinking “this isn’t illegal since it isn’t concealed.” I just had a recent email regarding handgun concealment).
· And last, but not least, I was then suddenly in the RV. It was warm and I was buried under a bunch of blankets and pillows and was suffocating trying to get up. (I was napping on the couch and knew that I should not stay asleep long so I was trying to force myself awake).
Anyone with an RV and an assault rifle want to go to Jack in the Box with me?
· I was on a road trip (I am on a road trip, now)
· We were traveling in an RV and had stopped for a bite to eat (I’ve been emailing / IMing about traveling lately. I was also thinking about dinner before I fell asleep. My neighbors are competition Chili cooks and travel to cook offs in an RV. I was exchanging emails with them recently).
· In the dream I was in a generic fast food joint, though it could have been a jack-in-the-box. (haven’t quite figured out the relationship there).
· In the dream, I was naked, though I seemed to alternate between being naked and wearing my “I Love Midget Porn” t-shirt. Everybody was staring at me and was offended – especially the parents of the little kids (lately I’ve exchanged some emails that are dealing with academic freedom, and freedom of speech issues as well as having read some recent articles on it.).
· The fast food joint had run out of buns and people were really angry (not real sure about the buns, but I’m not partial to a burger with a ton of bread. The angry part is probably ‘cuz my window was open and I could hear the random noise of a NYC street with people yelling and screaming at each other, or because I was naked).
· For some reason, I couldn’t get my food so I was sitting there mostly naked and holding an M4 (hey! I like big guns, and I remember thinking “this isn’t illegal since it isn’t concealed.” I just had a recent email regarding handgun concealment).
· And last, but not least, I was then suddenly in the RV. It was warm and I was buried under a bunch of blankets and pillows and was suffocating trying to get up. (I was napping on the couch and knew that I should not stay asleep long so I was trying to force myself awake).
Anyone with an RV and an assault rifle want to go to Jack in the Box with me?
Sunday, June 06, 2010
Is Everyone In NYC Gay?
It seems to stand to reason that in most big cities you have a higher percentage of gay people than in other locations. I’ve seen this in cities such as San Francisco, LA, Dallas, Houston and even Salt Lake City (which surprised me a bit).
But NYC takes the cake. Maybe even more-so than San Francisco. That’s a toughie. It seems like you either have the rough-and-tough NYC construction worker that has been in a union since the womb (and yes, they are all named Vinnie, Joe, Murray, or Mario), the “Metro” sissy boy (who are really gay and just don’t know it, yet), or the outright flamers. There just isn’t a lot of middle ground here.
The other night me and my co-worker were trying to get to a particular area where they were supposed to have good food and music. The cabbie clearly dropped us in the wrong area and we ended up in the gayborhood which had even more gay people than usual. A big clue was the rainbow flags hung out of all the windows with “NYC” on it, and the guys wearing tight shirts/pants/whatever, walking little foof dogs with high heels on – the guys, not the dogs.
We didn’t find any food or music we were interested in so we made our way across town to a Brazilian BBQ place (think meat, meat and more meat). We walk in and on the big screen TV is some flaming guy talking about something. People…seriously, I need a break. I don’t mind that someone is gay. I even have some gay friends. But I don’t necessarily enjoy being immersed in it 24 x 7.
As I said the other end of the spectrum is the manly-men construction workers. Those guys are freaking hysterical. We have been hanging out in a new building where the guys are working all the time. One group of guys in particular is like watching a comedy routine. And yes, a guy name Mario is the one that is the most stereotypical of the group, and the loudest, and the funniest. Hanging out in the room with those guys is a much needed break from all the flamboyance and metro sissy boys street-side.
But NYC takes the cake. Maybe even more-so than San Francisco. That’s a toughie. It seems like you either have the rough-and-tough NYC construction worker that has been in a union since the womb (and yes, they are all named Vinnie, Joe, Murray, or Mario), the “Metro” sissy boy (who are really gay and just don’t know it, yet), or the outright flamers. There just isn’t a lot of middle ground here.
The other night me and my co-worker were trying to get to a particular area where they were supposed to have good food and music. The cabbie clearly dropped us in the wrong area and we ended up in the gayborhood which had even more gay people than usual. A big clue was the rainbow flags hung out of all the windows with “NYC” on it, and the guys wearing tight shirts/pants/whatever, walking little foof dogs with high heels on – the guys, not the dogs.
We didn’t find any food or music we were interested in so we made our way across town to a Brazilian BBQ place (think meat, meat and more meat). We walk in and on the big screen TV is some flaming guy talking about something. People…seriously, I need a break. I don’t mind that someone is gay. I even have some gay friends. But I don’t necessarily enjoy being immersed in it 24 x 7.
As I said the other end of the spectrum is the manly-men construction workers. Those guys are freaking hysterical. We have been hanging out in a new building where the guys are working all the time. One group of guys in particular is like watching a comedy routine. And yes, a guy name Mario is the one that is the most stereotypical of the group, and the loudest, and the funniest. Hanging out in the room with those guys is a much needed break from all the flamboyance and metro sissy boys street-side.
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