The Eccentricities of an Iguana

Differing Opinions

2010-05-15T01:12:00.002-04:00

It's the first picture that has been taken of us as a couple. In Miami. It was sweet and someone posted it on facebook. I was excited to have it and made it my main profile picture. The Construction worker is so private. He is extremely private. He told me I have unearthed his privacy for the world to see. The photo was pulled up on a computer in his coffee shop. He was shocked and embarrassed. Why would anyone put a picture of them with their boyfriend as a main picture on facebook? All these thoughts went through his mind while I sat at work, proud of my new picture.

He told me it bothered him. It seems to have really bothered him. I apologized and took the photo down. He still wanted to press the issue. I told him to slow his reminders. I know what I have done wrong and I understand the line that has been crossed.

Ah, privacy. Oh, love! How these things happen and make it all the more complicated over a simple issue. He used text as his form of confronting. What a way to deal with an issue. In 140 characters or less.

Dead Floral Tributes

2010-05-10T20:55:00.003-04:00

I have a small Off-Broadway play I am getting paid an equally small stipend for. Paid work is better than free work. Despite the fact it's two jobs for the price of one. I can do this, I am stronger than you think. I am Assistant Stage Manager and Wardrobe Dresser. I am the Alpha and the Omega. I am the beginning and the end.

Lena Horne has died. This saddens me, I am uploading her Broadway show to listen to tomorrow.

I went to Miami for the weekend. Glamor! It was the preview to Greece. I bite my tongue when I observe how older people act. They are fun, but there is a feeling that the Ice Man Cometh at times.

I wrote the above about two weeks ago.

I come to you now. It's a simple and strange life I lead. I am discovering the idea of dating, loving, being with someone. I am still trying to understand it. We're going on to 10 months and before you know it, it will indeed be a year. How funny, the year has flown. Time does move faster as you get older.

Tonight was a first. The Construction Workers life has been difficult, as most of ours has been. He's been drinking . . .much more than I would necessarily enjoy. I see why, I know why. I am often the sober one, why is this? Is it because I am keeping my eye on him? I want to seem mature? A mixture of those feelings. Tonight he went to a birthday party at a private apartment. So the alcohol was flowing and free. We drank. We all drank. He drank more and had eaten nothing.

We finally decided to head home. I had my bike. I love my bike, it's loyal to me. This year has been a big year of changing. I got a kitten and have raised it. I have a bike that I ride religiously and I have a boyfriend. I obviously am into changing myself. I am open to learning. Moments will come and they will be part of life. Tonight is one of those nights.

I used to drive upstate all the time. I am king of the speeding tickets! I even had to attend a defensive driving class! I am notorious upstate! The Construction Worker was drinking, much more than I expected. My bike was in the back of his car. "We need to take a car service home. I can't drive." I was happy he made this decision on his own, but my bike! I needed my bike for tomorrow morning. As I stay up past two AM, I wonder if will be riding tomorrow. I shall though, it's the only constant I know I can control these days.

I told him. "I can drive." I was saying it! I've always had this immobilizing fear of driving in the city.

Now you may be wondering, was he drunk? No. I was in the conscious mind. I was alert and knew that my bike was in the backseat. I needed it. The construction worker is imperfect. He is going through hard times too. He lacks the sense to judge what is too much drink, what is dumb in choosing drinking over eating. In the 40 years of his life he has kept these ideals true.

It pains me to see this. In my youth I have been through plenty. People who know me, know this much is true. I haven't experienced nearly enough in my years, but the things I have gone through are beyond experience. I have taken a year of therapy to comfort myself into this feeling. I have attended support groups. I am a whole being and even in my youth I just am bothered by this.

Here I am. A 24-year-old. Who fears driving in the city. Has NEVER driven in the city. Is volunteering to drive his drunk boyfriend home. In all honestly he couldn't drive and I knew I could. I am not a complete dependent. I can drive and I have seen him take the route home plenty of times. I felt like I held my breath the entire time. I was so tense, but I did it. I got to my apartment. Listening to Lady Gaga on the radio. I have driven my mother's SUV plenty of times, but his car is larger and more broken down. The side mirrors are falling off and the rear view mirror is atrocious. I did it though. Kudos for me. Sadness to the Construction Worker.

I am faced with his weakness. The bottle. In all my drugs, all my addictions. I can understand why a lost soul like myself would go astray. Here is a man who has done it all. Built and sold businesses, lived on a boat, promoted the best clubs in NYC, and all these other successes. To see him in a state is what makes a partner feel human. There is his weakness, his battle, his truth.

I know what ails him. The thing which I could easily make discussion about and yet I slightly avoid it. I am trying to understand it. I know he is not an alcoholic, he has even defended it at times. I know how he feels. I do feel I should speak though, there is my worries. I worry. I will mention it tomorrow.

You drove his car home for him. That's not something that has happened everyday. This is the third event you were waiting for. It shakes you because you had to do it, yet the act itself was a simple event. You care for him and that's what any lover would do in the case. Your personal fears do not reflect the actual setting in place. This man has lived his entire life in the city, but he let you drive home. Oh the dilemma!

Keep Rolling On

2010-04-24T14:37:00.002-04:00

The robbery was a lot to deal with. Filing a police report complete with many different phone calls and being put on hold. It seems that filing a police report is the key to everything. They are sending me a replacement iPod. In my mind iPod's take $4 to actually put together. $179.00 to sell. So they'd sooner mail me another one, despite the fact it was stolen in the mail. So I am sending it to a friends place, that comes complete with a doorman who holds all packages. Success!

The boy who I thought would be my future roommate is having some financial problems. He has given fears of doubt and I understand that. Life is full of understanding moments. It's full of tests of meditation. So I must continue my search for a new roommate. One of life's greatest trials. Onward ho!

I have placed an ad in the paper and responses are coming in. It's overwhelming.

Hobbies

2010-04-21T22:25:00.003-04:00

I need to take up a hobby. I have entered the real world, the blinds have been lifted. It's been almost a year since I graduated and it's unsettling. This world I have entered into, on the brink of destruction. I am trying my hardest to stay focused. I have grown a lot, it takes time, but growth is seen throughout the year. I just need a hobby, something to take up time. Biking or trying to write. Joining some sort of writing group. Get feedback and eventually become a Pulitzer prize winner.

Until then, I will try to keep myself busy. There are things that will happen and they will be intense. I am going to Miami, I think, about two weeks. It was a sudden decision, and I have never been to Miami. Then there is Greece. The shows. There are things, I just need more things.

Property of Honey Beeson

2010-04-17T10:59:00.003-04:00

I've grown up around stealing all my life. I realized this yesterday and I am sure other people have witnesses as much stealing as I have in my life. I have seen a cast of characters to choose from as thousands of dollars were taken from my father's closet. I have watched as the thief gets justice over the right parties because they couldn't take being in the wrong.

So when I was stolen from only a week ago. I knew there was a feeling that all this would feel familiar. My iPod Nano has been stolen, from someone in my building. Actually this crime has been fairly easy to settle, but still is strange.

It baffles me that human beings can be so deceitful. That you can actually look me in the face and tell me you didn't steal my iPod. Then later I am to find out that you registered my iPod under your name and address. Tsk, tsk. It's scary though, maybe someone is trying to sabotage you. You did say this has happened to you before. Me thinks she is trying to scam me. . .

Lovely Realities. . .Blame it on age.

2010-04-02T18:24:00.003-04:00

I wrote an email, because I was told to do so if something is on my mind. I wrote you an email because I am young and articulation is not something I do best. I worry about things that I shouldn't. I simply write them out.

Your reaction to the email was strange and puts more thoughts into my mind. Oh, it's a vicious cycle. I can see your faults and I need to decide what's going to happen. It wasn't bad, but it wasn't a good talk either. It simply felt like it happened. He held onto me while we spoke. I write emails, he deals with it in liquor.

I've spent the last few days thinking about our relationship. There were some interesting points made, by some things that weren't liked as well. He accepts that he forgets I am only 24. I accept that I have built an image of what he should be. I am trying to put that idolization out of my head. His weakness is relationships. I look at successful people all the time. The lonely ones. They always are unhappy in love it seems.

They can build fortunes and companies. Make themselves known, but cannot connect to anyone. The Construction Worker is such a being and I see that in him now. He is not a demi-God no matter how much he puts on the image. His faults are in his emotions. You're strong in emotions, but a little to strong.

We shall see how it develops. I do feel love for him. Though it's not been said. Is 8 months to soon to be thinking about it? Or should I have said it at 3 months. Like everyone else around me. I find love in the things unsaid. Time is the achieving factor in all this. The experience gained. The future will be forged in its own path. Jobs to be done. Boring jobs. A new roommate or new place to live. A trip to Greece. A Lady Gaga concert to be seen. Plays to view. Hi ho the glamorous life!

NAACP

2010-03-25T20:45:00.003-04:00

Things change so quickly. I have a telephone interview, but in the last couple of days I have begun working at the NAACP. It was supposed to be for scanning, but it seems that I am making a little more money, to create some sort of index. It's foolish and a little overwhelming. There is no supervision, but it seems like a place to make a mistake. I know I probably will.

Supervisor isn't my ideal in anyway. There is rumor that I will be a supervisor to scanners, but I do believe that is a lie. We shall see. The hours have changed and I'm going to have to get used to a new schedule. Then there's the telephone interview tomorrow that could lead to a better job.

Then there's the Lady Gaga tickets I just got for Atlantic City! It's on July 4th, which makes it a couple days ahead of the one in New York City. Plus, I rarely ever want a reason to go to Atlantic City. This is good enough reason to make the journey out. I think I will wrap lace around my head.

Butterflies Are Free

2010-03-22T21:22:00.002-04:00

Everyday I apply to a job, or I try to. I'm trying to ride my bike more often, but with the rain that has been difficult. I am doing the five boro bike tour in the beginning of May. It's going to be an exciting day. I will be doing it with my brother. We don't normally talk, I'm not very close to my siblings.

I know that my brother is 28-years-old and just bought his first house. It's in upstate New York, close to the rest of my family. Bike riding doesn't require a lot of conversation, which will make the day move along nicely.

I'm watching Butterflies are Free. With Goldie Hawn in the role that Blythe Danner made famous. Goldie's hair is so big! She's a delight, especially to see her really acting. She's so cute and sincere.

Rainy Nights and Days

2010-03-13T22:15:00.003-05:00

It's been raining all night and day. It's been aggravating and has forced me to stay inside for most of the night. I've been stir crazy and watching episodes of The Office and playing video games. I feel like I've taken a vow of silence, there is no one around. Except Bumble, who doesn't make much conversation.

The days have been filled with confusion and a fear of the future. In a recent play I saw there was a line that was said, "Life is full of pain, but it's up to you if you want to do the suffering." In the mediocre show, this line was sappy, but appreciated. Especially when it was spoken by Tallulah Bankhead by way of Valerie Harper. That's how I have been feeling life is right now, full of painful moments. Though I'm trying valiantly not to suffer to much.

I talked with The Construction Worker about my fears about myself. I am trying to accept the fact that I've met a man who has my best interests in mind. It felt slightly pitiful to realize all these fears are in my head. I have such a difficult time articulating myself. I fear for my apartment situation. I fear for my financial future. I fear for a lot of things.

Which way is home?

My Nose

2010-03-10T22:23:00.002-05:00

I had an accident with my sleeping pills and sleepwalking. It ended with part of my nose being cut off, literally. I took one sleeping pill when I was awake, but while I was sleepwalking, I took four more. That's where it all began and ended. I walked around the apartment thinking there was someone there. Then I climbed out onto the fire escape and called The Construction Worker on my phone. . .while asleep.

Luckily I climbed back into the apartment in a sleepy haze. As I climbed into the window I fell. I hit my head against the window and my glasses sliced off a part of my nose. True story. I woke up then, but was still drugged up and in a haze. I sat in blood and waited for the Constructive Worker to arrive. He healed me and put me to bed. . .

It was his birthday.

The Calm

2010-03-08T17:38:00.002-05:00

Seasons are changing and it's getting warmer out. I've purchased a new phone and have downgraded to a simple phone. I think it's a simple phone, but we're doing it to downgrade the price of an iPhone.

Then there is the changing of the jobs. I'm applying to things and certain funds are ending. There are things that have been said and the future rests on these choice words. The future rests on so much and it looks slightly grimmmm at times.

I have been feeling mad at times. I am swallowing my pride these days and sorting paper. Sorting paper. Sorting paper. Always with the sorting of the paper. Where once was a time that I felt dreams were possible. They still are, but I can't figure the simpler things out.

My boyfriend is silent most times. I am not sure what is on his mind and that makes me anxious. His thoughts are deep and quiet. Time is moving in a strange pacing and I just don't know what to think. I'm trying to get used to this silence, especially since it's so far into this relationship. Silence does not equal bad things. . . I think.

My boyfriend's birthday is today.

2010-03-02T23:18:00.005-05:00

This is what I intend to say in his card:

Happy 40th Birthday! We've only been together for a short time and I know I will never fully understand the life you had before 40.
That aside, I would be honored to spend time with you in the next 40 years of your life. The time that I've spent with you has been a very happy time for me.
You are smart and I find you incredibly attractive, even aside from that I find your active personality incredibly amazing and I still am trying to figure it out.

I am still trying to figure out exactly what love is, and it's a word that people weigh a lot of mental energy into,but I know that what I have been feeling lately when I think about you is probably very close to what "loving" someone must feel like. I just don't know if I wanna give that feeling a finite definition right now, because what I feel for you can't be explained with words. Happy birthday, wolf.

xoxo
E.iguana

A Chilled Glass

2010-02-25T18:34:00.002-05:00

Another Thursday done. The snow has begun to fall again. This time in a much harder and wet form than the previous time. Slush is forming and this snow is chilled cold, like the glass of the Stoli-Razz and Soda I am currently drinking.

I've decided that on March 1st, I resume looking for jobs. I took the time sorting paper and after about two months, I am pretty much through and at least curious to look for other jobs. I will continue sorting paper because I know it's regular and workable. As the months become warmer I will humor myself by applying to dresser jobs. I have nothing to lose, except my graces as a gentleman.

I've swallowed so much cynicism that it's make me so sour sometimes. It's all going pretty well right now, the sorting paper job I can stick with. I just know I'm better than what is being done. I'm not a fool, but after doing a job such as that for any length of time. You begin to feel like this is all you can do. So simple and mind numbing. Yet it's a Recession, which rhymes with Depression and the government thinks letters can hide the true facts at hand. I shouldn't be greedy, times are rough and this may be the best you can get for now.

I've been watching this show called Battlestar Galactica. It's funny how addictive it is. It's a sci-fi drama to a great extent. I'm absolutely in love. It's tragic and amazing.

Human Moment

2010-02-20T00:51:00.003-05:00

Tonight I had a human moment. With a friend who I have known for years, but never sat next to and really talked to. He gave advice and told me about his family life. I understood him for who he was in that moment. It touched me and felt very good and honest. Two people sharing their lives.

Leaving the party was family like too. Kissing everyone goodbye on the cheek. It was sweet and touching. It made me feel warm. I also got a warm feeling when I made it home in record time. Only 8 minutes after midnight. I left the apartment early because I was feeling good in my soul. I wanted to quit while I was ahead.

With All the Dramatic it Deserves. . .

2010-02-16T22:21:00.005-05:00

We were drunk. As sometimes is the case and it was Valentine's Day and possibly our 6 month anniversary. I'm not one to make drama about a day that is pointless and unnecessary. But as a couple I gave him a box of chocolates. In return we drank at the local bar and I saw him put his hand down some slut's pants.

We were drunk. I feel like a 1950s housewife making excuses up for my husband. He works so hard, so what if he likes a few cocktails after dinner? He deserves them. Well we know I am not a housewife and nor is this the 50s. There is more to this story that needs to be told.

The boy was a previous hookup and he was drunk [see there I go again]. I saw it from across the room and I simply shook my head at him. In his drunken stupor he defended his point. The scene quickly shifted to the 2000s and I was in a scene from Jersey Shore.

The night quickly took a nosedive as I became the aggressor and proclaimed the day was done. The people in our party disbanded and The Construction Worker passed out in my bed. At 9 PM.

I sat on the couch at 9:30 wondering. What are the memories I have from this night. I called a good friend and told him the situation. As girls do his advice was excellent, but I fitted it to meet my particular situation. The next day I would discuss this indiscretion and as I figured he had no recollection of the night.

This gives me an upper hand in the scene. If I were a vile person I could manipulate the situation as I see fit. "You did this. . ." and "I saw this . . ."As much as I am a vile person, I care about The Construction Worker more than anyone I can remember. I would never mix up the stories to fit my benefit. Also, I had a pretty good landing to begin with. I told him of his actions and words. How I was finally really beginning to believe that I can trust him and he goes and pulls a silly stunt like that.

He apologized, which was all he could do in the moment and I got what I came for. An apology. There was uncertainty in the air after our first fight. Six months in and this is the first and it really was not a fight. That's good odds. Regardless we all felt off. Granted there was no drinking going on. So perhaps the boring parts of the play are now. Or perhaps the most human moments were then.

He cuddled me and was held. I felt him holding me and thought about other occasions where drama erupts and how I react. The simple word is to "flee". I'd fled so many relationships, some people wonder if I ever really existed at all. Well fuckers, I do! This one though, I feel no need to flee. I want to work on these little issues and dwell on them. Knowing they are manageable, if not dramatic at times. We spoke softly and calmly. I hate yelling so I rarely break into it, but there could've been cause for it in later years when more falls apart. This is just a step right now. I told him what I wanted and in the future if your hands need to go down someones pants. Justifiably so they should be mine. . .

Moral.

This Is What. . .

2010-02-14T22:08:00.003-05:00

This must be what love is.

Since Last I Had Written

2010-02-07T13:40:00.002-05:00

I rechecked my last entry to realize how much has and has not happened. That job cannot be playing me. It's been over a week and I've heard nothing since they promised me the position was mine again. I am glad I invested no worry into it. No, none whatsoever.

Then the Construction Worker's stalker has returned. Yes. That very day of my good news we went to the local bar and who was sitting there. Oh the psychological thriller that began in my head was enough to baffle anyone. Someday I may write a play based on the night that went on.

The stalker moved closer down the bar until finally he became part of our group. I kissed the worker on the lips in front of the stalker. An act of drunken courage and lack of thought. The Construction Worker had a soliloquy about his misfortune in finding a stalker. "How does one realize the person they get involved with will stalk them." True, so true.

I agreed to do a Five-Borough Bike Tour with my Brother on May 6th. I need to find a better bike by then. Mission go!

Energies

2010-01-29T20:23:00.002-05:00

I'm filled with positive thoughts and energies. Today while I was sorting my paper there was a rush of panic because the paper that we sort had run out. Someone told the story of how the last temp job he was on at this company that ran out. They just dismissed everyone and kept two of them. The worst of stories you can tell to a temp.

A general panic began in the room. Then people began to get calls from the temp agency offering them other jobs. It seemed strange, but then the people who weren't getting calls began to get more nervous. By lunch time tension was high and people were ready to kill each other.

I got a call from the job I applied to in October and apparently they are finally ready to hire me. There was a protocol that they had to follow. I begin to now see that this whole wait may have been planned. To cheat a system, it takes time.

Given to all the tension today. From just sorting papers (or lack thereof) I was relieved to hear that all that waiting had not been for naught. Until I am sitting behind a desk and getting a pay check, I will not believe anything I hear. My response went something like this. . .

Gay Assistant: Are you still interested in the position.
E.Iguana: Did you watch the state of the union address? Of course I would like it . . .

My Mother's Tears

2010-01-28T17:02:00.003-05:00

I called to simply ask her to fax a letter for me. Conversations with my mother could be a two person play, and I've often thought about writing down my mother. My mother's simplicity and her undying love for me is a character study. My relationship with her always takes a reverse turn when she breaks into tears over such simple matters. Yet, that were never apparent to me while I lived at home.

The issue is bitchy and simple: My aunt made a comment about my sister's "Spider bite" piercings. . . on her 16th Birthday. She said, "I can't even look at you." Turned away and handed her an envelope with money. Majorly c*unty though and worthy of my mom's tears.

Now that I never partake in the drama of this household. I can listen and I encourage her to speak out. I get my sensitivity from her and I would probably begin crying in the same situation. I like to believe I have grown stronger and with a little tougher of a skin. I've seen both sides now.

The unfortunate part of all this is this was the aunt my mother felt she had a close relationship with. The aunt who comes down and takes me to Broadway shows and I go to dinner with her and her friend. I listen as they take at each other about their children. What their kids do. Never really having a conversation, but topping the next statement. I sit and drink wine and enjoy the free meal. Sometimes I throw out random words, but mostly I eat the bread and sip the wine.

So my mother feels betrayed. I

Crock Pot

2010-01-18T19:47:00.003-05:00

I didn't go into work today because I wasn't feeling well when I awoke. Last night we went bowling and The Construction Worker revealed that he was in some major leagues when he was in high school. He bowled a 222 to my 99. He could do that spin on the ball and make himself get strikes. I believe that he's some kind of wizard.

I awoke this morning, later in the day because I felt so groggy at 6 AM. I began cooking a pork shoulder, because I intend to make Pulled Pork Sandwiches. I also made some brownies, as well as homemade coleslaw. The onion rings will go into the oven and I'll ring the bell when the food is ready. You know it takes a while to make that pork shoulder tender.

I will return to work tomorrow, because one must work. One must. The day of cooking was a domestic purge and incredibly fun. I like making food, but in a Martha Stewart kind of way. Not in a job sense. I just feel like I need to keep house.

The kitten has his adulthood and begun to hump things. I relate the feelings I have with Bumble, as a mother must feel with a child. I want to love him, but he terrifies me. Now he's a man, only six months after I've taken him in.

The Honeymoon is Ending

2010-01-16T18:04:00.003-05:00

Last night, while drinking The Construction Worker decided it would be a good time to go through some issues that have been bothering him. I appreciate honesty, I've read enough Albee to know the best truth is an inebriated confession.

The first issue was about my picture on some websites. How I revealed unladylike truths and some people in his social circle were beginning to question him. He's a private man and I respect that. I suddenly felt very nervous, because I knew of one site and the Construction Worker insisted it was a different website. I suddenly through it could be this very venue in which I type. Would I have to get rid of this? No one reads this anyway.

Then I began to wonder what kind of gay Terrance McNally play I was in. Someone confessing my secrets to the Worker because they want him to know he is with a once dangerous Lolita type. I told him I would check my past and erase these old relics. He told me not to worry about it more than that very conversation.

Then he brought up my lack of etiquette. This one thing I found amusing. I use my fork and knife incorrectly. I know this and it has never entered my mind that some people would find it offensive. According the Construction Worker, in some social circles. The fact that I switch the fork to my other hand when I cut my meat. It's an insult?

What a wicked creature am I? To have been throwing out threats to everyone around me when I eat in public. I agreed to be trained in the way of proper fork holding. This is what relationships are all about, learning from your partner.

Then came the final issue. At this point, my hide was rough from all the issues at hand [and the sex] and listened as to why I mentioned I liked him more after therapy. I explained my future and the uncertainty of it all. In June, I will be changing apartments and losing benefits. Things will be unstable. I feel weird trusting in someone when I feel like a wreck.

At therapy I simply just spoke of Andrew and what was going on with thoughts. I take the future in stride, taking things as they come. Yet, I still worry. It's my upbringing. He told me that it will all be okay and I should not worry. This is partnership and being with someone. This is trusting.

By Any Other Name Would Still be a Rose

2010-01-10T00:01:00.002-05:00

This is a picture of my boyfriend's stalker. He sent it to me one day along with a four page letter this kid wrote for him. I don't need to worry because I've been told he joined the army. Though his letter (which was written in October) says he may not continue with it.

Now, for those of you who know my background. This is the second guy I've dated who has a stalker. It's left me with a few thoughts and queries that I just want to get out in the open. Be there an answer to them or not.

I wonder how someone could feel so obsessed with someone to the point of carving their names into a tree outside of the apartment that the Construction Worker was building. Or that he got one phone call when he joined the army and he called The Construction Worker. Is there some sort of dreamworld they live in? I was told that the boy was only a hookup, but then it grew into this deranged gifts and him getting followed into bars.

I sometimes wonder what would happen if this boy doesn't go into the army and just suddenly appears one day. Would he try to kill me? Or ruin my life. The only difference between the first stalker and the second is the man attached. The Construction worker is coming from a different place and this said stalker has yet to appear.

When he does, I hope it ends up like this. . .

Gather Together in My Name

2010-01-08T22:38:00.003-05:00

Oh the temping life. I completed my first half week of temping at the law firm that handles in asbestos lawsuits. People in the 50s and 60s who are trying to get money from their health issues. There are other lawsuits that this firm handles that are other health issues.

I sort papers. That much is simple. I sort all types of papers, that are scanned so the lawyers can look at them in their offices and then make money in court. I get $12.50 an hour, and in these times, I have to remind myself how grateful I am to be working. Sorting papers and resorting them. I was told the job would last two months, but other temps tell me they've been there for a year. "It will extend." They say.

I get my evenings free and a 15 minute smoking break at 10 AM. It is a change in the sleeping schedule, but it is not to difficult to wake up at 6 AM. I just need to watch my nights and be in bed at a decent hour.

The people I work with are normal. I went to happy hour with them tonight. There is a sassy girl who drinks to get through the day. On breaks they discuss how little they are being paid and how the men in charge get paid $20.00 an hour to sit there.

The Brazilian man who trained me. We shared a desk for three days, literally. He sat next to me, "training" me on how to sort papers by recognizing documents. On the second day he kept asking me, "You must ask me questions." I responded with, "Surely you're flirting." I come to find out at happy hour from the fabulous black woman, "He's got a live at home boyfriend, but he's on the down low." I fell to the floor in laughter. The sassy girl said he trained with her for 15 minutes. I shared a desk with this Brazilian hunk for three days. He's a lawyer, but only in Brazil. I think that's exotic.

My first clue to his homosexuality was when we were on our way to lunch. I was having a salad, but the rest were headed to McDonalds. One of the girls spat out, "He just sits and watches Lady Gaga music videos all day." I froze and realized the mystery had been solved.

I Told You It Was Epic

2010-01-05T21:38:00.004-05:00

I have been reading a lot of Maya Angelou lately. Her life speaks to me. The trials and her insights just ring true on a human level. Being a dancer in a strip joint, just by being true to herself. She does these jobs she hates, she marries and divorces. Why does she wed, "Because he asked me." So decided in her ways, she reflects later when the time is right.

I begin another temping job tomorrow. There is the rumor it will be for "a couple of months." That comes as a breath of air. The alleged hours are 8 to 4 pm, which is even better. Tomorrow when I go, all this could change on a dime. Nothing is certain, but I will stay true and work.

The Construction Worker and I have been dating for about 5 months now. It's a steady companionship, with delightful sex, that has yet to grow boring. At least from my perspective. He's a Pieces, which means he will stray. I mentally prepare myself for it, but never fully acknowledging it. Like a guest at a party. I could talk to any number of personalities, but I'll avoid that specific one.

He had an invite to a wedding, but I'm not yet at the "plus one" status. I'll stay home and get my kitten spayed instead. Little Bumble Beeson is getting his balls clipped. I think he's otherwise engaged. Retarded. Suddenly I'm Bette Midler as Jacqueline Susan in that movie about her life. I'll write a novel while I take care of my slow kitten. Making him a eunuch.

The New Year

2010-01-03T16:56:00.003-05:00

The New Year has passed and I am trying to help people whom I barely know out. It's a chance I am trying to give. The new year weekend has passed slowly and I await tomorrow when I call my temp agency. For some mundane assignment that will take up 10 to 12 hours of my day.

With the passing of that last job opportunity and the new decade, I have felt grateful to just do what I am doing. The dullest work an American can imagine. That way I'm some unsung Americana Hero. I'm doing what it takes to get by. Years can pass so quickly when you're doing nothing. Then next thing you know you've been doing nothing for years but living contently.

In other news Bumble is going to get his balls cut off soon. He's being a little to feisty for his own good. I look at him and often wonder how I ever decided I wanted to control something else other than my life. I can't throw this thing out when I get over it. Yet, I know have a companion who keeps me home.

The New Year's Eve was pleasant and spent with the whom I am currently giving my heart to. We went to lunch at a McDonald's (but not after searching for a decent place to be open). Then went to wander around the entire Brooklyn Museum.

There was a brief resting period where we went to dinner that had endless champagne. 2010 started there. Then we went to a party and I watched people flit about. Followed to another party where I flitted about. Then lastly to a warehouse affair, which was intense and crazy. The fact that it was only 20 blocks away from my apartment was even more astounding.

Ushering in a New Decade. . .

2009-12-31T02:00:00.005-05:00

It's early on New Year's Eve day. I'm listening to Taylor Mac singing songs and thinking back on the year and looking to the future. In 2010, I will look for a job. I've lost and regained motivation, but now it's with a deep skepticism.

Reading Maya Angelou has been good for my soul. Inspiring to read about a woman determined, but she fell so many times. Ups and downs to the extreme. She went along trying. It inspires me to try. Even though times are different. She always wanted a second son named Iguana. So I believe that I am Maya Angelou's long lost son. We have so many similar feelings.

My resolution is to have a job. A simple request, that has proven so difficult and unfair. I will persevere and do what I must do. As Maya's mother used to say, "It's it's worth it, then it's worth working for." Something along those lines. . .

I accomplished my soul flushing this year. I found a doctor. I temped. I found therapy. I graduated. I got a kitten and a boyfriend. This has been a productive year indeed. It's the small rewards that make life worth working for.

In The New Year

2009-12-21T23:28:00.002-05:00

Oh the new decade is almost upon us. It's the end of the tens and into the teens. A Depression takes time to begin, but once it's started we'll all look back at 2009 as the starting point. I spent two and a half hours in an office today, going through trials that most normal people will never experience. Seeing the people who live in the lowest of the low already. Knowing that I could be one of the few right now, but perhaps soon enough, there will be more.

I have one more day in the apartment until I return Upstate through Sunday. Oh holiday of holidays. Escape? Hardly. Reminder of failures? Possibly. I will return to a temporary job and then more in between jobs. With the New Year I hope for new jobs, that last and are worth working for. I ask for stability as it's been happening, with perhaps a little less worry. These are optimistic requests. I hope they are granted and not made difficult.

In the Depression, was I depressed? Nowhere, near. I meant a big financier. . . and I'm here!

Jewels. JEWELS!

2009-12-18T20:41:00.004-05:00

This week from 9 AM to 8 PM I spent working at a famous jewelry company. What did I do you wonder? I put tags on the jewelry, wrapped it in tissue paper and then put it in a plastic bag. For 10 hours a day. I lost my voice this week, so I sat there and listened to music mostly. I enjoyed the voicelessness as a way to not have to be nice to the people there. I'm embracing this whole temp lifestyle. Meaningless jobs, for long hours and being paid more than it's worth. It takes a little swallowing of pride, but once you get passed that, the money is fun.

I handled jewelry that was so fucking expensive.

This little number is worth $10,900. I was so close to strapping it around my dick and blaming the beep on my belt buckle when they searched me on my way out. That's more money than I will probably ever have at one time. It's also so tacky looking. I remember the days when a diamond was a diamond. You didn't need 15 other gems on it to show how wealthy you were!

This coming week is the holiday season. My grandfather is in the hospital, he had surgery. Followed by a second emergency surgery. In between those surgeries, he apparently had a few strokes. 'tis the season!

Hanging On By a Thread

2009-12-10T16:24:00.004-05:00

There are good times and there are down times. There are the high times and small times. This is the time of year where everything dies. Where seasonal depression is created and pushed onto people. Where the pressure for holiday spirit is around, but you really do not feel it.

I got a call from my job, well the job I've spent the last month interviewing for. The homo-receptionist called to let me know they would hire me. Yet, the union is pressuring the office to hire someone in their Union. So I'm in limbo. I was accepted and rejected in the same breath. There is hope, but it will take time. With the possibility that I may lose out, cause a union is pressure and loyal. . .in difficult times. In these oh so difficult times.

Then in the same breath, I went to my fair hearing yesterday. Iguana took the stand to fight for his right to not pay $2,004 dollars. That he allegedly owed the government from one month of working. I made a time line printed out and was planning my speech in the waiting room. 2 hours of waiting, being the last white boy in an office filled with the poorest of the poor. I watched a man dry out a huge stack of newspapers on the bench. I could only guess they were his bedsheets or he was going to recycle them for money. I could only wonder.

To hours of waiting for 5 minutes of actual action. I sit down and take out my time line. Across from me sits a black woman, who once again can barely speak English. The judge turns on his phone and begins speaking legal jargon. I'm taking in the scene and wondering if I should cry or not. Do the poor black women with head wraps sit in this chair acting humble or yelling out, "I let him suck my titty so he'd love me!"

Then the judge informed me that a notice had been sent from the office telling them to ignore the existence of the $2,004 debt notice. A wash. A complete wipe. Months of worry and anticipation for one sentence. I danced out of the room and performed my best rendition of Singing in the Rain. We must celebrate the good moments.

Seeing Family

2009-12-06T14:50:00.005-05:00

I saw some aunts and cousins last night. We went to a expensive dinner in an overrated restaurant in Time Square. Then we saw In The Heights, which I noticed really failed to impress anyone in my family. I enjoyed it, but I could tell no one was jumping for joy. I think the show was a little to fast moving. Speaking in hip-hop lyrics can get very confusing to a crowd from Upstate. Not to mention the entire vocabulary that is confusing to them because they "no hab-la S-pan-yol". My one aunt, who doesn't prefer crowds made us wait until the entire mezzanine leave before we could get out of our seats. Then when everyone had gone, we walked out and ran into a crowd. "They wanted to rush out! Now we have to wait!"

My family's logic is based on fantastical ideals. Do people actually sit in theaters until everyone has left? As I left them, once again that ONE aunt had to say, "We're so lucky to have your aunt Sue here so we can keep in touch with you." I promptly left on the next R train that came to the station.

Am I the only person in that family. The only one. Who has ever wanted to leave? Is there some kind of curse on my family? Isn't that the typical path for the homo-relative. They leave home and rarely see their family. So I feel a little liberated over the whole thing. Not so much pressure anymore.

A Moment to Type

2009-12-04T16:48:00.003-05:00

"I'd like to dedicate this song to the bartender, B***e, who I spent 25 intimate minutes with in the bathroom last year. . ." That's how I opened my version of New York, New York this year in New Orleans.

It was a mild year. That moment though was a good closer to the vacation. It was a small enough bar, filled with enough locals that I think I'll be remembered by both the bartender and those people who go to sing karaoke for a little while.

I sit here eagerly awaiting a phone call, that at 8 minutes to five, I am pretty sure won't come. Do I wonder if that means I got the job? Or that they have told someone else. Is no news good news? It upsets me that I haven't heard anything, though I'm trying not to take it personally.

This game tires me and one cannot be expected to have much more motivation than I have been putting out there.

No news is good news. . .no news. . .

I Need This Job, oh God I need this Part!

2009-11-23T23:46:00.002-05:00

Tomorrow is my third interview for an administrative assistant position for a non-profit medical center. The third and final showdown. To come so far and to compete with only my words and my charm.

I have this job, I know I do. This job belongs to me and I would kill for it. . .

Well not exactly kill for it. I would enjoy finding out that I have a REAL job for the first time in my life. An adult job at that! Oh, all I need to do is ace this interview. It's between myself and a second competitor.

I wonder what he is thinking, What his talents are. Is he more powerful than I? Does he have skills that surpass my ability to do mindless office work? Are his social graces better than mine? Of course these things can't be determined, but I must wonder.

I will sleep and wake to shower and shave the face. I have the dry cleaning all set and my tie is pre-set in a Half Windsor Knot. . .

Good luck.

Hopes Up and Go

2009-11-20T01:32:00.003-05:00

These days of leisure couldn't be more filled with nothing. Yet, it always seems like I am trying to accomplish something. If I wasn't, I wouldn't have ridden my bike over the Brooklyn Bridge multiple times this week.

I was traveling for some reason. Perhaps it was just to save money, or to get exercise, to cleanse my mind. When I ride my bike there are thoughts that I have at my disposal that I normally feel I wouldn't. Feelings of raw emotion. The wind blowing into your eyes and making them water. You are listening to a song on your iPod and wondering: is it the wind or the song that makes me want to weep? or is it the simple fallacy that I experiencing a real moment in this bike ride. Being in the here and now. I am actively moving towards nothing. Towards something that I can't for tell and never knew was going to happen.

I weep. I feel tears falling down my face as I peddle across the bridge. Tourists get in the way and I want to run them down. The lanes are clearly separated, but they insist on standing in my biking lane. This brings me out of my reverie and dreams. My pathos have been haulted.

I am trying to keep a demeanor of optomism, but with these lack of callbacks and third interviews. You hear of people who are moving away. Even the Israeli is moving back there. He's failed and I love it.

New York City harbors the residence who can make it. People who leave it are banished, never to return. They couldn't figured out the game that is play. I sometimes wonder if I've yet to figure out this game. I've met enough people, but the game aspect of it seems so odd. What rules am I playing well?

Rant done.

Working 12 Hours. . .

2009-11-08T21:42:00.004-05:00

I am alive, I have been temping from noon to midnight for the last week. It has not left me feeling very invigorated. I wake up at 9 to go to the gym before work and then do data entry for 12 hours. If you can imagine what 12 hours of data entry must be like, then you have the most boring personality. . . ever. I am grateful that I can listen to my iPod, and catch up on all the musicals I have been ignoring for the past months. I listened to Bravo Giovanni (finally) and am obsessed with this flop and with a young Michelle Lee. Who is more masculine than I will ever be.

I have a second interview on Tuesday. It came as a surprise to me and I am hoping for the best. I would like you to hope too. I spent all Friday thinking of what it would be like to have a normal work schedule, as well as a salary, not to mention working for a non-profit company. To be able to get stable work during the recession too will also make me just feel merry. I sit for hours (12 to be exact) and constantly hear other temps discuss their hopes to have real jobs. I see the temps who are swallowing pride and working for this company. Spending all day removing staples and entering data. I don't want that to be my life for ever. I would like to have the respect that comes with being a fellow employee, not just a temp.

Hallowaning

2009-11-01T17:30:00.004-05:00

Halloween was actually very mild this year. Most of my friends went to the other coast to celebrate. Since I'm in that dating mood I have been spending it with the Construction Worker. It's all very calm, but the nights go until 3/4 AM. In these days of unemployment, it is fun, but slowing down is in order. He does pay for most of it, which is kind and I appreciate. I do throw in cash every now and then.

Yet, dating the Construction Worker is like having a discount card. I can have a nice meal for 20 bucks instead of $50. I can take taxis home for 5 bucks instead of 30. Of course there is more to him that I like than that.

We went to two mild parties and a bar that was crowded. I asked this homo if he was Bea Arthur and I won the prize of his company to the diner at 2 AM. He was drunk and it was the end of the night. He took of his Dorothy apparel and was wearing gold la-may underneath. Was this supposed to be his sexy outfit underneath? He had a voice that was borderline grating. Now, I am not one to judge people's vocal inflections. I of the loud mouth and the obvious comments. He also was drunk and I was not, yet I was wearing short shorts and here I am making judgements.

Why Do I Do Things, I Never Mean To Do. . .

2009-10-26T01:49:00.002-04:00

I am utilizing the Google Task bar in hopes of motivating myself to do more. If it's written down and constantly reminding me. I will be less likely to ignore the things I put off with a hand gesture. It's so difficult though when no one returns your phone calls or acknowledges your existence at all.

I cannot sleep right now because I feel nervous. Odd, nervous because tomorrow is Monday. The beginning of another week. Maybe the work will come in, maybe the feelings will lift. Maybe. There's so many maybes. There's a lot of wonder. If I could only take life by the balls.

As the Construction Worker simply said, "It's only phone calls." Phone calls with people who don't speak proper English. I will admit openly, I am not the brightest star, I can follow a direction and carryout protocol to perfection. Get a grade and I have it, read a book and I'll do it.

Expect me to make up my mind and choose what to do next. Are you mad? I was raised to follow rules and directions. There's no one to follow but myself now, and I just want things to be. I don't want to make phone calls, phone calls terrify me. The things I'm looking for are not taught in any classrooms. Oh goodness.

Scratched Nose

2009-10-23T21:52:00.003-04:00

I once had a dream. I think you can call it my childhood. It involved hallways and simplicity and slower days. I have been trying to keep the glass half full. I feel like people are checking up on me and that makes me nervous.

There was a time when I could picture myself doing any job. I would do any job, but it doesn't even seem possible to get any job these days. I was raised to believe that I could do anything, but I'm entering a Depression. My generation is entering a Depression, but we're not ready to give into it, just yet.

The other day, when I wasn't looking for jobs because I applied to them all. I didn't want to leave the house yet, for fear that my temp agency would call me while I was shower in the gym or running on the treadmill. I decided I would take a short nap on the couch. It does not feel so lazy if I do it outside of my room and on the couch.

I closed my eyes and 45 minutes went by. My naps usually only last less than an hour, for that is about the time the furnace that lives in my body fully warms up and I burst into flame. Around minute 40 of that nap I was attacked by the Kitten. He saw my nose peaking out of the nap [the way I sleep on my stomach and fold my arms under my head. It allows me nose to peak out]. He saw that nose and dove for it. I now have a nice little scratch on my nose. He is a curious kitten, very curious indeed.

I need to take him to get his shots today, but the worry lies in the fact we're not supposed to have a kitten. It doesn't necessarily matter, because everyone else who lives in our building has a dog or cat. I just don't wish to get another set of bad news. I am going to disguise the carrier, as a giant Halloween basket I've made for my neighbors! They will never catch on. Never!

I Must Keep Optomistic.

2009-10-21T17:13:00.003-04:00

Getting an elusive interview. For a 15 minute meeting, smiling and thinking about how you want to be happy to fold shirts for the next three months. Everything is temporary these days, no one is permanent. It's something and it's saving up money for better things.

I would love to fold shirts all day. Be enthusiastic all day. Smile, smile. I just want a paycheck. I'll smile till my fingers bleed. Though the correlation, I may even work through Christmas if I can. I know it may be cruel, I just don't want to think about things. I've acquired all a married woman can take. Except a job, so work is fine with me.

I Shall Remarry. . .

2009-10-19T23:58:00.003-04:00

He called me his boyfriend. Tra-la. For the first time in years. Will wonders never cease? He's invited me to Greece come this June. Oh mamma, I may be going to Greece. I need to save up money!

It's all so trivial, but simple and nice. We enjoy the company and he's quiet, but he likes to have me around. Oh we shall see, we shall see.

Vannnnnilllllllaaaa iiiiiiccccceeeeecrrrrrrreeeeeaaaammm.

It's Fall

2009-10-13T22:55:00.005-04:00

I've been getting all the biking I can, while the weather permits. It's been very chilly, but there's something nice about the lack of people I deal with while riding a bike. Not to mention the sweating. The sweating just feels refreshing.

I've been actively applying to jobs daily, which is both annoying and productive. I'm just trying to make my time useful while this trial continues. Hopefully by the end of this week it will end, we are going onto week three.

I went to the Equality March in Washington D.C. I really enjoyed being with my friends and marching to make a point. My favorite speakers were Angela Green and Charles King who spoke on HIV and AIDS. What upset me though was that all the people left after Lady Gaga spoke, and though I liked her little speech, it was nowhere as powerful as the other speakers.

King and Green both talked about the war on HIV and AIDS. How it's not dead and the infection rates will continue increasing if nothing is done. I've decided I am going to write them an email telling them how much their speech affected me, and how I want to partake in this fight. King said at the end of the speech that he was declaring today that AIDS is our fight. I want to help in that fight. We shall see where this brings me. For the first time in months I felt something that made me excited.

This Halloween I am going to be a version of Little Red Riding Hood. This idea came to me because the construction worker affectionately calls me Little Red and I call him the Wolf. He just looks like one, but in the sexist of ways. Unfortunately, all my friends will be in California, so I need to find a place to show off my costume.

Switched Off. . .

2009-10-10T11:12:00.002-04:00

The trial goes on and on. Oh it's truly to much to take, unfortunately until a verdict it reached, that's as far as I can talk about.

Tomorrow I am going to Washington D.C. for the Equality March for Same-Sex Marriage. It will be my first time in Washington D.C. and for such a reason as this, one can only wonder how this trip will turn out. I'm expected to find a bus in midtown (a location that I still do not know where) at 6 AM. I have an online ticket and Maya Angelou to keep me company. As well as some fun friends and their mothers!

The kitten is in this stage of hate. I purchased a spray bottle and have had to use it on several occasions. Bumble seems to have taken an angry response. He won't really go near me or let me pet him anymore. Yet, I can't let him bite wires and nip at my fingers. Therefore, when he sees my hand is justifiably terrified that he will get spritzed in the face with my ray gun!

I suppose a swift and just parent is better than a parent a lazy and parent who spoils. Oh well, I hope he accepts the fact that I am his benefactor as well as his disciplinarian.

Last night I saw a one woman show with the Construction Worker and an older friend of his. Along with that friend's sorted gay friends. Oh, the gay life! He then spent the night and we slept together. It seems so simple. He's a busybody and he works most days, he never hangs out at the apartment. He has buildings to build and contractors to deal with.

We cuddle and I try to please without spilling to many tears. It seems so easy and calm. He's turning 40 in March and he wants to rent a yacht and take several friends on it to some place warm and far away. I have until March, but was he inviting me? Or simply throwing out the suggest, "Save up kid. I don't stay for breakfast and I won't cover your tab on this adventure."

What's a Yacht? Some kind of dragon? People can rent Yachts with kitchen staff and crew! That fee is in someone's pocketbook? I can handle the price of two tickets to a one woman show, but to an island. Let me call my temp agency for extra work. . . I'll see you in March. It's curiously simple and I don't necessarily want it to become complex.

I will not worry about a yacht. A yacht is about as common of a used word as taint. Everyone recognizes that it's a dirty word, but no one really know how to properly describe what it actually is.

There is A Sadness. . .

2009-10-08T00:25:00.002-04:00

There's been a lot going on these days, but strangely enough nothing has been going on. There is the kitten, Bumble. He's funny and a nice companion. I'm trying to get him to stop nipping me when I try and pet him.

I have been applying to jobs. This legacy that I am leaving is building up. A futon and a kitten. Oh and the Construction Worker. Trying to build trust in me, which is comforting enough.

The trial is happening and happening. I'm not allowed to discuss it, so I'll keep all the details until this ends.

Now Is The Moment

2009-10-04T21:45:00.002-04:00

The Construction Worker is laying in my bed, puking and trying to calm a hangover. He's a hot mess, which makes this the first time I feel somewhat in control. Which makes it sound maniacal in this twisted way.

Alas, it's what it is. I should just keep quiet, he's conscience but drunk. This I have never experienced with someone I'm dating. It's all new, the entire thing is new. Oh so much to take in this. Wifely duty.

The Normalcy . . .

2009-09-29T22:38:00.004-04:00

What did my parents teach me about life? What did I ever learn about becoming an adult from them? It perplexes me as to why I thought there were some lesson plans they taught me, like in school. About dating, work and love. All that crap. The question of the hour is "What does Iguana want?"

He wants a kitten. He got one and now it's like that movie with Diane Keaton gets a baby. She uses the baby to her advantage and makes a fortune off of baby food. I wish to use the kitten to my advantage and teach it to dance with me. Then tragedy will strike. Right now he's sitting next to me curled up and loving the heat coming off my thigh.

I never figured myself a cat person. I never figured myself much of an "any kind" of person. As my therapist tells me, "Who told you there were rules to life?" My parents. My suburban life.

So I like cats now. If he'll always be like this and not scared of me, then I gladly take on the responsibility.

Iguana also wants a boyfriend. The Construction Worker has been making himself more known. Which is not unwanted. He comes and spends the night and tells me there's no need for sex every night. I stop and pause at this thought.

It's an old thought to me. I remember a time when I could happily live with this idea, but I have rubbed away those thoughts and instilled a nervous sexuality.

Trying To Write More. . .

2009-09-23T00:08:00.003-04:00

Than I have been lately. Even if it's nothing important (like is used to be, remember those days?), just to get some things out.

I worked a 10 hour shift again today and almost got into a fight with a guy on the subway this morning. My hatred towards the MTA is building again, I must be holding some anxiety. Also it's annoying when you paid $89 for a month long pass and the pass breaks way before the month is up. You yell and kick the turnstile. You say, "Fuck you MTA!" Out loud to no one and consider jumping the turnstiles to make it to the train that is leaving right before your eyes. Yet, despite the social activities just mentioned, my social graces get the best of me and I think, "It's illegal to jump a turn style!" Oh what a foolish mortal I can be.

Little things have been happening. Like the rude man who pushed by me in the subway today. As if my holding onto the rail was rude because it got in his way. He scowled at me as he rushed by, but not before I gave him a mild push in the back and said one word: Don't. He turned more to fight, but then realized he was looking into the eyes of God and turned back to his seat.

I won that round.

Then is seems like I'm given these mundane tasks. Stalpe these papers. Scan these stacks of papers. Date stamp these documents. Paperclip these sheets to that sheet, but not that sheet. . .

Simple SIMPLE tasks. Yet, I manage to find a way to mess them up. Which I find odd, but a character trait that I seem to repeat. I am not dumb, I just get confused because I follow the instructions given to me and rarely change until someone demands it so.

I'll be paperclipping papers for hours only to discover what I was shown is incorrect. Paper clips and staples aren't allowed in these batches. . .It's somehow my blame because when I was told the instructions of, "Paperclip this green paper to the documents." I did just that, but that was supposed to be before I destapled it and actually never should have used paperclips in the first place! Oh it's like Alice in Wonderland.

Enough for tonight.

Ends Justify . . .

2009-09-21T23:32:00.002-04:00

I was taught at an early age that I will never been what I want to be. I will go to college and thought I may study for a specific major, but probably will never practice it. I went through college being told that I owed thousands and thousands of dollars in loans.

Today, I spent 10 hours putting paperclips on paper. It all sort of made sense in that moment. I feel such a weird anxiety in trying to be a dresser. Maybe because if I try and if I fail, as I have been raised to believe anyway, then there will be nothing. Nothing except putting paperclips on paper for hours at a time.

I look around my office and watch the temps who stayed behind from my last job. They work usually from 9 to midnight each day. That's the most extreme and sure they are being paid hourly, but is this their dream? Opening junk mail? Putting paperclips on paper?

Maybe I'm the odd one out. I thought you myself, "I want to be a dresser! If I have paper clipping in my future, then I need to change it." I usually laugh about now, because I remember my resume.

The other day I was called for a 6 month long paralegal job from my temp agency. The conversation is as follows:

HE: Hi, I'm calling cause Joe recommended you for this job. It's 6 months long, paralegal work and well . . .do you. . . have ANY interest in this at all?

ME: Um. . .

HE: Tell me why Joe would give me your resume.

ME: (As if recited) I'm a young college graduate who got high honors. Also I am bright and open to trying new things right now. I'm very excited to test my wings in a lot of options.

HE: That's exactly what he told me, the one thing that's missing is. . . Do you like law?

ME: Ummmm [I should've lied here, but I was a little stoned, instead I laugh.] I have plenty of lawyer friends though. . .Paralegals are like temps right? I can do that.

HE: (Begins to laugh hysterically over the phone, I join in to alleviate the fact he's mocking my answer) I'll be right back. . .

At this point I figured he was asking Joe, why the fuck would this kid ever get picked with his resume. He returned:

HE: So you wanna go to law school?

ME: Nah.

HE: DO YOU WATCH LAW & ORDER?!

ME: Oh, yes! With my friends. [At this point I know it's too late].

This was soon followed the next day by applying to a job fair and giving my resume to someone to looked at it blankly and said, "you could work in reception. . . do you speak Spanish?"

No, but I do have incredible skills in paper clipping and making photo copies!

Postcards from the Edge

2009-09-19T01:05:00.003-04:00

How have I been doing? That's a good question. A good question indeed.

I have spent hours in waiting rooms, I have more temp work. I've been trying to overcome this unconscious fear of applying for dresser jobs. My bike broke, then I fixed it. I think.

I went upstate this last weekend and ate more than humanly possible. I've been seeing the Construction Worker more than the Georgia Peach. I don't want to narrow it down just yet, but I do feel I'm giving more attention to one than the other.

There's this uncertainty in the air, perhaps it's the fall weather. I don't know, things have shifted. Weights and balances in the universe, I guess they shift. Things are wilting and dying. It's mildly depressing in this beautiful way. The color that is created through the death of leaves.

I watched the MTV Music awards and think that Lady Gaga is the best performer. . .ever. What was the blood dripping down her chest. That was planned? How brilliant.

Escape Upstate

2009-09-09T18:12:00.003-04:00

I am escaping upstate. I owe my parents the visit and need to get away from the bad moods this US Open lack of work keeps putting me in. I will forgo the rest of my opportunities to not work at the US Open into a more productive thing like visiting the family.

I do not give my family enough credit and I have avoided most of the summer without spending more than 48 hours with them. I should see them for longer than a hello and goodbye. The whole unemployed thing makes it better and worse. I expect lots of "it's almost November, what now?" Speeches. In the summer there was a sense of optimism, but now as the plants wilt so do all these ideas.

I am trying my damnedest. I just can't be expected to sit around anymore. I may as well go some where I am fed for free. I can visit my sister and my brother. There is a jet ski that needs to be tried out. There's plenty of movies to see. Friends to say hello to.

I do not enjoy the trips home, I shall begin to try though. . .

Futon Paradise

2009-09-04T16:11:00.004-04:00

I purchased a wonderful futon from Ikea the other day. The old one seemed to be cursed and would not come apart no matter how much I tried to dismantle it! Then Elizabeth came home and waved her hand and it fell to pieces.

I'm a little pissed off because I was supposed to be selling Ralph Lauren clothing for the US Open this week, but it seems I am not needed. I haven't minded the week off and I've been incredibly active in doing things. I just can't call my temp agency and say, "The work I was assigned isn't being given to me, can I have more work." In one more week this will be through and things shall return to normal. They said next week will be busier and I will be ready!

I may be getting a kitten soon. This is astounding and thrilling news. The Wounded Soldier's cats had five little kittens and he is offering them out. I have 4 weeks to decide this, but I think it will happen. I'm nervous, but I think it could be an amazing adventure. . .

So I have been very silent for weeks because I have been dating. A lot. I don't know how it happens, but I'll go through these periods where men want me from left and right. Then nothing for weeks. I know that may sound like bragging, but in this new era where I am not being a Manhunt whore, a date is appreciated. Even 4 dates at once.

Though there have been multiple men. There are two that have caught my attention. Both similar and vastly different in their mannerisms. There is the Georgia Peach and the Construction Worker. The things they have in common is that they are both from masculine backgrounds. I love my masculine gay men, as a friend says, "Straight acting is still acting. . ."

It's funny because between the two of them there is a tie for who I would rather spend more time with. If I had it my way (and perhaps I will get my way) I would keep both. The Georgia Peach is a beautiful southern boy. He has no baggage this time, there is no small child in sight and he has a good job. He loves weed and doesn't do hard drugs. He's only been out for a couple of years, before that he was "fucking girls". Apparently not everyone comes out at 15, well for those of us who do. We laugh at the idea of that. Fucking vagina . . .heh.

He's been kind and cuddly and then quiet and distance. It's too soon to really decide anything, but he's an Aries, which I've been told is dangerous to caring people like me. I see it though.

The Construction Worker is older [39] but is beautiful too. He owns his own construction company that is green. He has a large SUV and comes from a half-Italian/half-Lebanese family. I will never be invited to a family dinner. He's quiet, but I enjoy the silence. The same goes for the Peach. There's no incessant talking. I can talk incessantly with my friends. He too came out later in life and no doubt fucked bitches before he was officially a homo. Unlike the Peach though he seems to have been around with more men. He was born and raised in Bay Ridge, Brooklyn. I find that hot.

Honestly, I find the idea of gay men who still wear baggy jeans hot. They both wear unfitted jeans.

The Peach and I have slept together. It happened suddenly and without warning. It's hot and quick. Dirty and fun. Then we cuddle while we sleep. In the morning he promptly goes to work and kicks me out like a trick. I ride my bike home and wonder if he'll ever call me until to do something.

The Construction Worker and I have not slept together yet. Even though I long too. We've hung out more though. Seen movies, drank until we were funnily drunk, seen movies. Then he drives me home in his large SUV and we make out in his car. I cannot tell if he's waiting for me to invite him up. He tells me there is no pressure. I also have the slight doubt that the moment I sleep with him I may never see him again.

Time will tell with all of these things. . .

There, I have got you caught up with most everything that's important these days. Now we sit and wait. . .

There is Always a Man

2009-08-30T20:29:00.003-04:00

I have been absent from writing, this is due to enjoying life. The fall begins and for the first time I don't have to worry about college. I picked up my degree the other day and it's official! I am a college graduate! I graduated Cum Laude too, which I didn't even realize was an honor.

I am working the U.S. Open for the next two weeks. I still don't know if I'm working tomorrow, but we shall see. It will be an experience to say the least.

Catch Me I'm Falling

2009-08-25T21:28:00.002-04:00

I would like to record the last few dreams I have been having. My therapist says that they are significant and my unconscious has been telling me something. The last several nights my nightmares have been distressing and though I wake up relieved they are not real, it's still disturbing nonetheless.

My first dream is that I am in my apartment. My roommate, our friend who is subletting and myself are in the living room. A giant python is slithering across the floor from inside the radiator into my room. I am distressed and telling the other two we should get rid of it. I mean there's a GIANT FUCKING SNAKE in the apartment! Yet, they do nothing. At one point the snake slithers by me and touches my leg.
Alice Ripley's Tony speech is playing from every direction. She is angry and screaming about art. I am offered a job and I say, "That's fine as long as I have a week before the drug test." heh.
An acquaintance of mine is trying to murder me. He is a schizophrenic and one personality is nice to me, while the other is trying to murder me. I am the only one who realizes this and I tell my friends and roommate about it. No one believes me, but thinks that the acquaintance has a twin brother who is insane. They tell me he must be the one and I should find him. No one believes that they are the same person.
Last night I dreamed that I missed my registration for the Wardrobe Union. I woke up (in my dream) and it was 1. I couldn't tell if it was 1 AM or 1 PM. If it was the day of the registration or if I had slept through the day and it was the next day. I look outside and it's dark and I just cannot tell what day it is.

The last dream was actually a sleepwalking occurrence. On Sunday morning I woke up in my roommates bed and had no idea how I got there. I went into my room around 6 AM and noticed that my bed hadn't been slept in. Apparently I came into the room and was convinced someone was in the apartment.

These have been my dreams. Weird, right?

Moment to Remember

2009-08-25T00:48:00.003-04:00

Tomorrow I will be registering with the Wardrobe Union Local 764. It does not mean I will have a secured job, but it means I'm one step closer to joining the union and getting a job. This is how it works I suppose. These steps that lead to what I've been working toward for the last year. It's a slow uphill climb, but I'm getting there.

Childhood Memories

2009-08-22T10:34:00.003-04:00

The other day while talking to someone I had a rush of nostalgia. It was odd and surreal, to have memories that I had entirely forgotten come rushing back into my mind.

While I was a young child growing up and moving around from house to house. We had a temporary stay in a camp. The house we were building was not through, but we had sold our old one. So we lived in this camp that was in the middle of the woods.

I don't remember how long we lived in this camp, or why we were even there. It was old and musty. It was far away from everyone we knew, but it was so odd. I do remember sitting in the living room nook. I was reading the comic book version of Tom Sawyer and Huckleberry Finn. I also remember something to do with being soaking wet, but that is all beyond me now.

The Last Five Years

2009-08-20T17:31:00.001-04:00

Today is the day I moved down to Brooklyn and have been living in the city ever since. Hurray!

Country Side

2009-08-16T18:42:00.003-04:00

It was a planned weekend, and it was the makings of a short story at best. The Film Critic has moved upstate. I spent the weekend with him, we saw movies and swam in lakes and ponds. I met Sophisticated people and I ate fresh strawberries.

The Film Critic and I have fun content and passionate times together, but where is the warmth? I'm fine with it, that's what makes it such a short story. It's a memory in the making, there really will never be a future in it. I will enjoy it while it lasts. It was a nice getaway and a fun little trip. I got a tan out of the whole thing and to get to know another person.

The Diary of Judas Iscariot

2009-08-08T11:23:00.004-04:00

As I showed the list of facts the Dumb Girl at my temp job had written earlier to the two stocky girls and the head temp at lunch. I never expected my betrayal to ever get back to me. Ah, karma.

The stocky duo were dangerously annoying when they were together. The gossip flowed like a deep spring when lunch came along. I was naturally the source of all the gossip because I always kept my ears open and my intuition going. Plus, no one gets to know people better then I do. I let them create the topics, then I set my ears to find out all about what they wanted to know. In retrospect, I never realized that my sneakiness would ever backfire. I made one fatal mistake, I allowed a straight man to get involved.

The Head Temp is one of those people that has douche bag written all over him. I'm convinced he is a repressed homosexual, which just adds to his large file of obnoxious facts. He has a girlfriend, but it's a long distance relationship and he tries to be as witty as me, but fails most often. This makes him being my superior even more difficult, it's my issue with male authority over my life. Naturally I set off on a schemer campaign against him.

He was the ruler and we were the bourgeois! He was the reason this job was terrible and the Latina Woman knew all our faults! He must fall and I was going to lead this revolution, but from the dark. So the story continues on . . .

I was preparing for my speed dating by writing a list of facts about myself and the dumb girl thought it would be fun to write her own list:

Dumb Girl's List—
I am 23-years-old
My favorite color to look at is green, but my favorite color to wear is black because it's neutral.
I like people who are good looking.
I have/ have had 11 piercings.
I think most people are lazy and eat unhealthy.
I like to people watch.
I love my father, so don't even try to compare to him, because you cannot.

Needless to say, this is the kind of information that the Stockier girls would love. So I saved the list and waited until lunch to reveal my information. They thrived off it and went off, then along comes the Head Temp. I was in such a whirl of success I showed him the list, because I knew he disliked the Dumb Girl. How silly now to not realize my fatal move.

We returned from lunch and I was glowing like a bride to be. Dear friends, karma is a bitch and I will learn this at a later date. I sit down next to the Dumb Girl who is attempting to look perplexed. Before I could utter a word, the Head Temp appears and says:

"So, I saw your list of dating facts." Two things happened between the dumb girl and I in that very sentence. For her, she became confused and for me, I gained clarity. Did this hetero-anal-douche see how this was the first rule of gossip etiquette! Never tell the person who you talk trash about, find out!

"Who . . .Wha. . .?" The dumb girl began, the little thoughts she had were beginning to form.

"Oh, he saw it while it was on the table this morning!" I quickly interjected. Should I take my cyanide capsule now or in the men's room?

"Ahhh. . .Wha. . .t did you think?" She added and I felt calm again, I would have my life for one more day!

"If I heard any of those I would probably run away from you. . ." He added and my eyes grew wide. "My favorite color to look at is green, but I like to wear black because. . ." He quoted and I stood up, my office chair flew back. I held out a pointed finger and screamed!

"That's cause you're a fucking faggot! Shut up you repressed butt pirate! You are a condescending and manipulative homo and I will not let your need to be as funny as me give me away! If you finish that setence, I swear I will leave this office and in two hours! TWO HOURS! The entire city will know you're a queen! Especially that GIRL who you keep hidden in a different state!"

He fell to the ground weeping.

In spite of everything, I still believe that people are good at heart. . .

It Dawned On Me Today . . .

2009-08-04T22:47:00.001-04:00

That if I were ever to become famous, suddenly everything I've written here will seem relevant. Until then . . .well that is just irrelevant.

Destroying the Tower of Label

2009-07-23T22:13:00.004-04:00

It's brilliant, this temping atmosphere. I think it works on a sliding basis. They let you feel calm for a few days and then they threaten you. Today's threat was brilliant and terrifying. . .

We all arrived to work finding out that the Sassy Black girl had been let go. There was a shock in the group, apparently yesterday she messed up majorly. It's like the And Then There Were None. Everyone was expecting her to be booted out, but what terrified me was now that she's gone. Who is next?

The Sassy Black Girl was the "shoe in" for worst worker. I had one personal moment with her really, no two, now that I realize. I'd like to share them with you now:

Moment #1

IGUANA: I'm seeing a guy.
SASSY BLACK: U da top or bttm?!
IGUANA: Excuse me?

Moment #2

SASSY BLACK: We gotta wurk 2getha! We be-so funni!
IGUANA: Are you literate?

Needless to say, I will miss her.

Everyone worked and I had to work with the man from the post office. He is straight and moved here to be a comedian. His hair is graying at 25 and he has a homophobic tone in his voice. He is from Virginia and probably voted for Obama. He is here trying to be an sketch writer. He promptly stopped to chuckle about "Tom Queen" while reading the names. I asked him if he had made many friends since moving to the city in December?

He quickly muttered with, "I have a girl I am currently dating."

I shot back, "That's the only person you hang out with?" He chuckled to himself and then punched me for being a fucking faggot. He wouldn't laugh at anything I said, so we sat in silence for the better part of the 8 hours. Labeling and silence. On top of it all we were at a table that was behind a huge pillar. So we were hidden from most of the small talk from other tables.

Throughout the day people chatted while labeling. Making jokes and texting on their phones. They did this proudly because the Head Temp insinuated that texting was okay . . .The disaster was obviously going to happen, and here I was hiding behind a column. Actually doing solid work! Ironic Gods!

The Latina woman came in, looking pregnant as usual. She promptly yelled at all of us for using our phones. The morale in the room plummeted and everyone stood around like scolded children. Scolded students, when in fact we all were. Newly graduated from college and this the first work we'd had in months. The first job in a year! And we couldn't label correctly? What kind of cruel play was this?

Somewhere deep inside, I chuckled at the Latina woman's poor grammar. But I was behind a pole!? Why must I be reprimanded too? I am not guilty. . . today. What was more interesting was how everyones insecurities appeared. I saw people I've watched for weeks turn into animals. . .

The Head Temp looked like a sad puppy because something had happened in the hall. The Latina women spoke to him and he no longer cocky and arrogant. People's minds and insecurities were running wild. One girl in the group who was quiet and perfect, she always smiled. The entire day felt like anything you talked with her about, she was always agreeing with you. Always being modest in someway. A creature who means no harm to the world, I saw her smile drop. Since she smiles more often than she frowns, her frown somehow curved upward. Still happy for her mistakes.

Another girl's complete insanity came out. The nervous office girl, fearing for her job. She was told this was the only temp job that hires long term! Did the Head Temp name names? She had her phone out only a second before the Latinas entered the room. Was she on the cutting block! She could kill the Head Temp!

People compete in temping? When did this happen?

I took a lexapro and calmed down. It's ridiculous, but it's a job. It's probably just a threat to put you in your place. I keep repeating: I'm a Temp. I have to believe that and not feel like my integrity is challenged because I'm not fit to put labels on a paper. That because I may have been making a small joke to make people laugh and some angry Vice President walked by and wondered "Why is that temp smiling?! They must go!" Then I must walk to my doom, but today I was behind a pole. A survivor of a horrible explosion because of this pole. I was behind a fucking pole not making small talk, not texting and talking softly. The bomb went off and I should have been the one talking loudly, but the other temp homo was. I looked to him and saw he suddenly looked sick.

An endangered spieces! He may be next to go!?

Or was it all some little joke. A warning? We're not a Hive Mind.

The Tale of the Wounded Soldier

2009-07-20T21:55:00.004-04:00

I feel like this story should begin with, "Once upon a time. . ." because when I sit and think about what I'm going to write about. Involves a relationship, a small child, revenge, poison and a "mildly retarded faggot. So you'll allow me a moment to open this with that lovely phrase.

Once upon a time there lived an Iguana who lived in the Land of Sunsets. One day he met a Wounded Soldier who carried around way to much baggage. These were bags filled with goodies from all the wars he had been in. There was the War of Iraq where he'd gotten shrapnel in his back and hurt both his knees. This made the Iguana feel warmly toward the soldier. There was the War of the Divorce where he'd gotten a small child and a jilted wife who hated him beyond belief. So much that she'd have him arrested for not being able to pay child support. This made the Iguana a little uneasy, but a child in a different state is a child that the Iguana never sees. Then there was the War of the Homo where the Soldier got mixed notions on what being a homosexual is, a crazy Ex-boyfriend who was hit on the head with a brick and now was unable to tell the difference between wrong and right, and all other kinds of silly things. This made the Iguana laugh because: Who would let that kind of thing into their life?

So the Iguana and Soldier stayed together for a month, living contently. When the Soldier left his immense burdens in the other room, things were good. The Iguana smiled and the Soldier felt content, because a Soldier without an army wife is like an Iguana without an eccentricity. The two cannot exist without the each other.

Then one day the Crazy-Ex boyfriend began to come around more and more. You see the Crazy-ex was gifted . . .literally. He was a sob story within himself. For when the Ex was a young boy someone hated him enough to hit him in the head with a brick. That seemed to have damaged his sense of what was right or wrong. Then when the Ex was a little older he dropped out of school in the 6th Grade. That seemed to have damaged any chance of him being socially adept or remotely tolerable. Then through his whole life the Ex grew up with seizures and brittle bones that broke from even a gust of wind.

Into the woods we go again! We have to every now and then!

With all these problems in his past, the Iguana could not help but feel slightly sorry for the crazy-Ex. The Iguana had a special power though, something that the Soldier in his kindness seemed to lack. The Iguana had the most special gifts of all: Common sense and little empathy.

One day when the Iguana and Soldier were having a picnic, the Crazy-Ex appeared in a puff of smoke. In his hands he had two apples, the Soldier was hungry and quickly took a bite. The Iguana though, slapped the apple from the Ex's hand and yelled, "I only eat organic!" After finishing his apple the Soldier began to sweat and feel dizzy. The crazy-Ex went on discussing his last trip to the land of Divorce and talking to the Queen.

"But you're not allowed into the land of Divorce!" Cried the Iguana to the Soldier. The Soldier remained quiet and let the crazy-Ex berate him more. Then the Soldier began to throw up.

"I've been poisoned. . . again!" Shouted the Soldier.

"Oh my. . .Wait, again?"

"Yes, again!"

"You let a mildly retarded man-child poison you, twice? I'm supposed to understand this? Wait and why is your Ex-bf still hanging out after a month we started seeing each other?! I mean you dated for like two months? What part of his absolutely disgusting and childish attitude did you not catch onto first? Why is he even here offering you edible and drinkable things? Why is there the possibility that he poisoned you. . .for a second time?! And why does he have your ex-Wife's phone number?"

"And I just found out your home address too, one of my Goblins got it for me." The crazy-Ex cackled.

"Excuse me? Okay you know what. I have three rules and they've all been broken in one swift move. First, I don't do drama in my life. I have enough and this, my friend, is a little more than I would ever want to get involved in. Second, I have my own affairs to tend to and as far as your Crazy-Ex is concerned. I don't exist anymore, if I get a knock on my door, I will have him arrested and I don't have any backwater shit for him to threaten me about. You got poisoned twice?! And third, I do not involve myself with people who believe that poisoning is something that enters an equation."

And they all lived happily ever after . . .

The End

The 24th on the 18th at 12th and 5th Ave

2009-07-19T12:08:00.003-04:00

My party was a success I do believe myself. About an two hours before the party, seven people called and canceled on the entire night consecutively. Apparently there is a bug going around these days and it's called "I'm-to-lazy-to-travel-into-Brooklyn-itus" and it's going around. Some of the excuses were legit and others were cop outs, but you know who you are.

The people who assembled were a fun and interesting mix of people. Margaritas can bring people together and when you are all characters out of a Noel Coward comical farce, the night makes for a lot of wonderful little moments.

The only issue was the Wounded Soldier. I knew the night would end up in this situation. It was a three act play that began this morning and ended tonight. Tennessee Williams in real time, he threw up and talked to much. He brought drama into my life and at my birthday party.

That does not sit well. Which has not been sitting well for the last week, but that's oh-kay. Then I had my dream last night.

I dreamed that I got accepted to a very prestigious Graduate program in a private college in the middle of nowhere. It was this beautiful building with old but sturdy dorm rooms and I was going to college with my roommate. I guess that means she also went back to school for her Graduate degree, since the college probably would not let her live in the dorm unless she were a student.

My dreams are a little to realistic sometimes. My dreams consist of real life scenes that could happen, but are slightly absurd because nothing quiet makes sense. In the dream there was a lot going on with meeting other people in the class and figuring out the room situation. Watching sunsets and I think the season was spring. It was like a scene from a Lifetime TV Movie—an Emmy nominated one—and then there was the Wounded One throwing up into the bushes and showing me text messages I did not need to see.

These thought bombarded my good dream and I awoke quickly in shock. It was also extremely cool this morning, which was wonderful and I fell back asleep. I just did not like waking like that.

Today is a new day and I am going to handle the issue as I feel comfortable. We shall see.

The party was a success otherwise. People got along, there was levels going on. It was loud and funny and enjoyable. Then I remember Wounded Soldier by Tennessee Williams (2009).

For now I am sitting and listening to the mix CD Mr.Marx made for me. That marries my musical taste with his. Which makes me excited and I am only half way through! Today is a day of meditation and the gym. Oh I'm running. Tra-la.

A Temp'ting Affair

2009-07-16T22:18:00.003-04:00

The temping job proves to be more and more worthwhile. You have to understand when I say worthwhile, I really mean ridiculous. We have graduated from date stamping to labeling the 270,000 pieces of paper. According to the laws of time and physics, labeling should take about the same length, if not shorter than it does to date stamp. Yet, this process may go on for a number of weeks because we are basically proofreading the documents as well. In short it hurts my head and I'm not able to really listen to music while doing it.

I also need to watch my mouth cause it is easier to make cynical comments to the temps who don't quiet seem on top of their game. Like the Southern Belle, who is from North Carolina and will add, that's what she said to anything anyone says.

Me: I work fast and efficiently.
Southern Belle: That's what she said.

Or the sassy black girl who asked me immediately, "Are you a top or bottom?" When I mentioned I was seeing someone. Excuse me Sassy Black, but I did not ask you how you were able to put so much makeup on every morning and false eyelashes and somehow manage to paint your eyelids three different shades of purple. pink and I believe burnt s every morning and still make it to work before 9 AM.

Me: We should lower our voices or else we will get in trouble for being to loud.
Southern Belle: That's what she said.

There have not been anymore firings, but the Latina woman keeps whispering with the one temp that they seem to have put in charge. There is this odd heirarchy they have created and the Head Temp seems to think that because he does not date stamp like the rest of us he is somehow higher. This much is not true, just because a Latina lady favors you over the rest, does not matter in the grand scheme.

Me: I'm gonna go to the break room and have a Cliff bar.
Southern Belle: That's what she said.
Me: *blink*

The things I have found odd are two of my fellow temps are both from neighboring towns that I grew up and graduated in the same class as myself. What are the chances of that? It's weird to actually say my hometown's name out loud and have someone recognize it. What is weirder is that Harry Potter 6: The Half Blood Prince came out yesterday and none of the other temps were excited for it. In fact, most of them mocked my excitement for the movie.

Me: None of you are planning on seeing Harry Potter?! Did you not read the books?! They were amazing!
Southern Belle: That's what she said.
Me: I HATE YOU!

Trying Times of Temping

2009-07-14T23:22:00.003-04:00

The last two days I have spent eight hours date stamping. Being a temp is not a glamorous job, now is it mind boggling. It's numbing in fact. You're given the worlds most mundane tasks and are expected to do them for hours at a time. I have been stamping thousands of papers over and over again with the date Jun 29, 2009. Over and over again.

It gets me out of the house and gives me a little spending money. It's not my life's calling, but I am doing it because it seems that no real jobs will hire me to do work that involves, you know. What's it called? Oh, yes. Thought.

A week ago when I came into this company and was asked to sort junk (or as they call it there BAD) mail for 8 hours. Stamping in a room full of about nine other temps seemed like a blessing. When I first started date stamping I apparently sucked because I would mess up a stamp every thousand pages. You'll be happy to know that after 16+ hours of practice I can stamp for without messing up one stamp. That may go on my resume. I have also perfectly a way of stamping so many palm does not get sore so quickly. For the other temps who pound viciously on their stamp will wake tomorrow with a mild case of carpal tunnel syndrome. Yet, they laughed at me because I took my time when stamping and rested my hands every now and then.

Here's the secret other temps. Listen to me closely . . . You listening? We have 270,000 pieces of papers to stamp. Did you hear that? You're not getting paid by the sheet, you're getting paid for accuracy. You finish 9000 pages in one day they won't care if some of the dates are smudged or redone. That's why at the end of the day. I was asked to stay and work a little later and the rest of you when home exactly at 5.

I'm taking the simple triumphs and making them my own. Because when you're a temp, the simple wars have the greatest victories. Especially at the end of this day . . .

It was a group of about 12 of us Temps in one room. ALL date stamping. Some people listening to music and two temps talking. Two talking temps who chat and talk and gab and never shut up. They talk about anything they can think of. You simply would need to open your mouth and say a word. They would jump on it and it was gone!

Michael Jackson, VHS Tapes, 9/11, the blackout of 2003. This one temp had the uncanny ability to link a personal story to each and every topic someone brought up. It wasn't just a comment, it was the truth as he told it. And the voice he had was loud, his volume control seemed to be broken and he could only speak in a deep booming voice about everything. Thank God we were all date stamping, or it would've carried across the office. This man's life story is told through a series of stamps and clamps made while he spoke.

I saw there before lunch enthralled with his complete lack of awareness of how far into the office he could be heard. He had to have an idea that the President of the companies office shared a sliding door with ours. HE HAD TO!? He kept openly saying, "How can a 6-8 week job suddenly change to a 3 day job?" He boomed this out loud and to no one in particularly. Every other temp merely shrugged. We'd all been told various things. I was told it would only take 2 weeks, others told 3-4 weeks. The loud temp was told the job would last from here to eternity. . .

All of this drama playing out amongst the drumming sounds of stamps hitting a table. There's no beat that's formed because people move at different speeds, they stop at different times. It's a John Cage wet dream. The day wears to an end and the supervisors enter the room.

When these Latina women walk onto the stage a transformation should be made. The gabbing goes and the sudden interest in date stamping commences. That should happen when anyone who is not a temp enters the room. Yet, the loud temp (in his age) doesn't seem to understand this rule yet. He keeps talking and talking and talking.

We're all a bit antsy. It's ten minutes to 5, but I have been asked to work later. I agree, because it means they like me and know I am dedicated to working. My ethics are in place and I'm not annoying.

A different temp offers to stay later too. She is an annoying on and is quickly brushed away, but not before they take the loud temp in the hall way and tell him he is fired. He walks back in and loudly declares to all the other temps (packing their bags to go home and intent on hopefully returning tomorrow), "We'll that's it. I'm a goner. It's been real."

There's some panic in the room. The Latin renters the room and says, "You can pack up and leave for tonight. Don't forget to fill out the time sheet." I stand up to ask her if she wants me to stay late and she points a finger and says, "You're not going anywhere!"

This causes more panic in the room. I have obviously been selected amongst others. It's A Chorus Line all over again and I feel just like Cassie. The ones leaving are nervous and manic. "Am I returning tomorrow?" I hear them whispering, "I stamped well enough. . ." And the loud Temp simply ponders, "I don't know what I did wrong." How about being annoying? That may have tipped the scale.

I feel nervous that they will not return to this office again. I feel secure that I will be returning to work. For more date stamping. Did I really win out in this power struggle?

Transformers 2 with Trannies

2009-07-10T01:16:00.004-04:00

Tonight I watched Transformers 2 in a room full of trannies. It just feels symbolic in someway. They were baffled with the incomprehensibility of the plot. Just look for the subtext in all this, you'll find it's intense.

I worked again today, sorting and sorting mail. The good news is the company I'm working with (sorting mail) wants me to continue working for them into next week. Possibly something different from sorting mail! It's like a scene directly out of How To Succeed in Business Without Really Trying!

Yesterday my Wounded Soldier made me a birthday dinner.

I call him my Wounded Soldier because he's an Iraqi War Vet. Yes, I kid not. I am enjoying this whole caring about me thing. He gives me a lot of attention, which is nice and I appreciate it. Though he has so much baggage that I get so nervous. Except, in the right way he works for me.

I wanted to try and see Shakespeare in the Park and my roommate went at 4AM and didn't even make it to close to 2PM. They sent her home and she entered the apartment at 8AM. They were sending people away by 8 AM. I'm sorry, but Ann Hathaway doesn't even had an Oscar yet.

I'm 24 now. I need to be off to bed soon so I can do the gym thing at 6 AM. It's not impossible, I have done it before. . .

Insomnia and Birthing

2009-07-09T02:00:00.004-04:00

Ambien seems to have no effect on my body anymore. I'm also feeling pensive and worried about something. I guess it's the aging thing that's finally settling in.

I have been sorting junk mail for the last two days. I asked for a temp job and my boat came in. Sorting returned mail to a company that helps bankruptcy. I get paid $12 an hour to look at envelopes all day. The only person I can speak to is a small Chinaman who stutters and mutters. He's a little daft, but I like him. He seems to speak in riddles, but they're not that difficult to solve.

I apparently can sort junk mail faster than any human being I've ever known. I remembered financial printing and how when a job came in you did it. In the Temp world there's a feeling of lethargy is key. I finished today [granted it was my birthday] an hour early, I was in overdrive. I've been sorting mail since I was a boy working in my mom's office. The Chinaman looked at me and said, "But you won't get paid for the last hour . . ."

He had a point. Yet, it was my birthday and I was eager to actually be out realizing it, rather than starring at a bunch of envelopes declaring bankruptcy to people who no longer live at their addresses or are deceased.

People called and facebook messages! So many facebook messages! It was nice when people I cared about wrote stuff. Yet, there's a ping of wonderment when someone like The Tall Man writes: Happy Birthday Iguana!!!

We're facebook friends. So I suppose there's no hostility. He's engaged to his boyfriend, the one he got after he gave me that phonecall that ruined my mindset. He's getting pleasantly chubby again, but his boyfriend. . .I mean fiance remains muscular. I am sure they are immensely happy. Okay, there's some hostility, but I'm working on my own happy ending. I deserve happiness too.

So I'm 24. Ridiculous. 24 and filled with insomnia.

Happy Birthday

2009-07-08T00:56:00.000-04:00

As Tradition goes. . .

Did I Die?

2009-07-06T22:21:00.004-04:00

Am I even here anymore? Let's see shall we. . .

There was pride and then the 4th of July. Then my birthday is coming up.

I've been looking for a job, it's such an upsetting notion. I am trying temp agencies and the last week I got two calls from the temp agency basically saying, "I have a job here. . ." They then proceeded to give me the statistics and my mouth began to water. The first time I was offered the woman paused and said, "But it's in Long Island City, that's so far from Brooklyn. . . You don't want to travel out there. . ." That ended that.

Then the second one was waiting for the woman to call her back for the job and she never did. It's upsetting to feel like you may get work. Then suddenly it's nothing. I'm giving myself a little while longer before I decide that I am going to get just any job.

Then I've sort of been dating someone. I do not know how to really start this whole discussion. He has a lot of baggage and that makes me nervous, but I've talked about it with my therapist and we both came to a conclusion that his baggage is what helps me like him. He sort of makes me feel normal when I'm around him. My roommate told me to dump the chump, but the thing is I know what it's like to reveal yourself to someone and then never hear from them again. It's depressing. Plus, I've made it clear that I move slowly and though he makes me weary at times, I think this man means well.

During this time when I'm so unsure about so many things. It's nice to have one thing that's sort of grounded. He makes me dinner and it tastes good. On July 5th when I apparently drank to much (though I only had 3-4 drinks) and I spent the entire day puking. He played Dead Space while I threw up all day. It was sort of sweet in this little way. . .

Who knows.

My berfday

2009-07-03T00:08:00.000-04:00

Is less than a week away. That's all for now.

Lilac Wine

2009-07-01T00:52:00.002-04:00

This job hunt via temp agencies has been a little frustrating. I've gotten two phone calls that proposed nice opportunities, but then were snatched away from me before I could fully get the job. It's a strange setup, the whole thing.

It's nothing I am doing wrong, but yet, I feel I am going about this all wrong. I missed another job call as I went into my support group. I thought it would be rude to jump up and leave the room. In short, I missed another job.

My mother asks me about my jobs and I get tense and angry. She gives me advice and I appreciate it, but want to scream. In a way of calming myself I tell her, "Yes. YES! I will do just that. . .Look I have to go."

My dad calls asking me how the job search is going. No doubt he has been sent by the queen to discover more information. I am complacent and he asks when I'll turn to taking any job. I respond with: In the fall, when the leaves began to turn colors and I don't sweat when I walk down the street.

I go to therapy and he offers suggestions of networking and I finally said, "I am feeling really anxious about all these suggestions. . ."

It's true, I would much rather listen to solutions. I want people to tell me what I should be seeking. Not what I can possibly do. I feel like I'm being given tomes that are easy to read, if you know the native tongue. While here I am, having just bitten off my own. I need to learn by talking to people. Then gathering all their suggestions into a big pot, mix for 4 days and I'll pull up a solution!

An answer to all this fogginess. A fan-like apparatus that will blow off uncertainties, leaving only direct responses that are clear of indecipherable bullshit. I need to invent this machine and change this quest I am about to partake on. . .

Another Week

2009-06-28T23:14:00.004-04:00

The weekend was good and full of little surprises. I saw a double rainbow. It's a rare occurrence and I saw it! I almost expected a gateway to open up and suddenly gay marriage would be passed in NY state.

Then it was Pride this weekend. I drank so much beer, I am home at a normal hour because I am hoping that my Temp Agency will call me tomorrow with work. I light a candle every night praying that work will come my way. The double rainbow is a sign of luck, of this I am sure.

I have no appointments this week, I am but a bore. I am running to Coney Island, but it's not as romantic as it sounds. I bothers me to walk by the Ringling Bros. Circus and to be heading to the unemployment office. Oh to run away to the circus and to actually run away.

Happy pride and double rainbows!

An Ending Drama

2009-06-23T21:43:00.003-04:00

Today has been a strange, but mildly optimistic day. I started it off with another interview at a temp agency. This one was bustling with people and more than the place I went to. My coordinator/guru/giver-of-jobs looked at my resume and asked, "Well, the question is what do you wanna do with your life?" The man was round, shaped like a boulder and had a red face. He looked like he was filled with possibilities to the point of bursting.

He then proceeded to go through my resume and make changes. Move this here, take this out, the title of "financial printer" is a dead term to him. I was a project assistant. I then took tests for my skills at know Microsoft Office programs. I scored 28 out of 30s. I can only type 52 WPM, we call that speed typing in the business.

My round sage lead me around and introduced me to a woman who looked like Barbara Walsh in the revival of Company. A man out of a Mamet play and a woman who offered me a chance at working at the US Open in Queens some August. Just like that! I stuttered and asked her if she was an illusion.

My shoes, they give me pointed toes. I look like the devil come down to Georgia with them on.

From the Temp Agency I went to the GMHC to get my free lunch. I stripped off my work shirt and wore a tank top. I seem to be into this idea of being trashy, but I don't think I look ridiculous. A man then asked me if Anita Morris presided on my arm, the discussion began and I smiled. Piano music played in the background, something by Gershwin.

I went to a second job search and met the opposite of my round wizard! A small black lady, but with lots of sass. She seems to be new to social work and wants to do good for all. It's a positive match.

I moved on to the YMCA and saw the cute trainer naked in the locker room. It's the little things in life these days. I think that's a good sign too, I'm hoping at least. I went to therapy and spoke of something that I have been milling about in my mind. I'm not ready to open it up to the world yet.

Then I returned home and listened to some Barbara Cook and played some Dead Space. Those things don't necessarily go together.

The Quick Trip Home

2009-06-21T00:31:00.002-04:00

The trip home has been quick and harmless. I am glad, I will not allow myself to get upset. The pills fix that. No one asks me about getting a job cause they understand this current situation. We had a family portrait that involved white shirt and jeans. My alcoholic aunt created a scene and was promptly pushed out of the picture, literally.

It was awkward to say the lease.

I chose to ride with my father to the party. I told him that he's become a good dad and my mother has become the antagonist. I spot it and I see, but I can do better than that. I face problems. I have to keep this optimistic outlook.

I don't know, I'm improving myself. Keeping an idea, realizing that I can do it. I know I can. I made a pretty penny on graduation money. So, I'm going to invest that into a future trip, but put away the rest for a bit. Hopefully someday the work will come rolling in. I can feel it in my bones, these legs will be dancing again!

Graduation Party

2009-06-19T00:39:00.002-04:00

I'm upstate this weekend. I wish I felt more inclined to write anything these days. There just has been nothing much to write.

Unfortunately, I do not.

A Bought of Sadness

2009-06-13T00:03:00.004-04:00

Oh what a night. I ran the gamut, it was my first quiet night at home for a while. It's a Friday night and Friday nights at home always ring my emotional ties. I felt like a Barbara Cook Medley. First, I was crying on the fire escape (which I'll get to in a moment) and then I lost my glasses [Where's my other shoe?] and I topped it off by eating ice cream [that one is obvious]

I feel better because I cried out my anger. My roommate is nowhere to be found, which is no fault of her own. It seemed that everyone was busy, except for Bradley, he's always there. I'm proud of myself though, for getting through this and not getting to upset. There was a moment that I did get upset. It's a good step in all directions.

There was a moment tonight. Where I sat out on the fire escape and saw my super and his friends drinking Whiskey and laughing. While above them I wept, and they had no idea. That is the strangeness of life. Someone is crying, while others are laughing, in the same building and the same night.

I will remember one moment that I can take with me forever. Before the tears, when it was closer to sunset, I sat there looking at those men below me. Like some benevolent God and I saw the purple of the sky meet against the green of the leaves. I heard the children running and screaming playfully down the street. It was so peaceful and real. So colorful and simple. . .

The above was written two nights ago. . .

This Is Life . . .

2009-06-09T21:09:00.003-04:00

I've been lazy. I've been lethargic. I have been active, that much is true.

I have been looking into several job placement kind of agencies. Why not? Rather then madly looking around, I'll look into stuff that will bring the work to me.

I was walking home today when the strange realization came to me, "This is it. . ." There's no homework or projects. Just looking for a job, getting my hair cut, going to the gym, etc. Simple things, easy tasks that need to be completed.

I went to a Rooftop Potluck dinner last night. Saw a film, been going to the doctor and therapy. This is life. . .All there is to it. To realize that now. heh! I still try to maintain my schedule.

I have been lazy, but in my the way I know, which is not really lazy at all. This is life . . .

All These Blank and Tranquil Years . . .

2009-06-04T22:52:00.004-04:00

Moving, moving, moving along.

After two breakdowns this week and endless discussing of my graduation. I am putting that one to rest. Done!

I have been going to therapy and enjoying this little adventure of exploding emotionally once a week. The support group is back too. I joined the GMHC and will soon be getting free lunches every time I am in Chelsea. Oh to be poor and in a system.

I'm getting over the fact that I feel like I'm using the system. I am poor and unemployed. The government has systems for me. I will use them. I am slowly applying to jobs, nothing serious yet. I have an interview.

This is a plus. A possible job so quickly. I know how to survive this jungle. Tra-la! So much to do and the Tony Awards are coming up. Oh hurrah, they have become more sad than ever.

On a Sweaty Night

2009-06-02T22:23:00.002-04:00

Printing up resumes and getting my teeth cleaned. I'm being as productive as I can be.

Bubba Gump Shrimp Co. is hiring

I was told last night that I should take time to think about a bigger goal for five years in the future. A simple suggestion and I will gladly take it, but I just need to figure out what that thing is. Perhaps it's the Wardrobe thing, so until then I must look for a job.

American Apparel is hiring.

Temp work is in my cites, I would not mind being a receptionist either. Perhaps I'll work on getting that. Or lie a little and get a waiting job. Oh, Christ! I'm a college graduate! I should have more of a plan than this. I live day-to-day and I cannot foresee the future, I am trying.

This weekend I went to the country and saw the sun and leaves. I felt the green of the grass and opened my mind. I laughed and slept and danced. To have fun in such dire times! I find that a little difficult. I'm working through it all.

I had a splendid time, that much is true. Then real life begins and it's a slight shock. Suddenly there is nothing, endless hours really. To do nothing. It hit me today, I sat on my couch not moving. I have to find a job, that is true. Yet, right now nothing is due. No classes to register for. No bedtimes are officially set yet.

All that's left is open time. Free hours to waste away into anything I want. I continued sitting on the couch, not moving, but only realizing: here we are. Oh well, you saw this coming. How thrilling, the whole of it!

Group Session 2: Another Cycle

2009-06-02T01:54:00.002-04:00

Tonight at the second cycle, I broke down. That's all I really wish to share. Goodnight.

The Graduation Weekend

2009-05-24T19:32:00.003-04:00

It's been enjoyable. Friday, I got free drinks, in this harsh economy I had to squeeze them out of drunkards. It worked well, cause tipsy people usually are ecstatic that you are moving into a part of life.

Then there are those who start off with, "It's a tough time to be going into the job market. . ." I usually try and counter with breaking into tears and falling to my knees, cursing God above. The second most common responses have been, "Grad school is a wise choice." These people are the ones who are older, have lived for sometime—They feel panic—but still maintain their employment. No one has denied them anything yet, except perhaps a raise, but they know that it's bad. I just wish I knew what I wanted to do for Grad school.

A strange BBQ in Park Slope brought delicious grilled food and more congratulations. I feel excited, but in this terrified way. I have my prospects lined up, a business card to a temp agency. A meeting on June 23rd with the Wardrobe Union about registering. That may sound less than stable, but this is life. I can't know more than 36 hours in advance of my life. . .

I've been on the go all weekend, sitting down for hours at a time, but only hours at that. I will not be kept still for more than 3-4 hours maximum. For the next appointment begins sooner rather than later.

Tonight is dinner with an English man and meeting friends for a steak that is $9.95. I can't resist that, especially on the first weekend of graduation, when tonight my drinks shall all be free. It's okay, things continue on for at least another six months. I look for a job and find one. End of story.

As for the Film Professor. The awkward night in bed together has sealed the fate. I went to therapy and discussed the events and was given a mild solution. If I'm busy though, I never have time to think about my loneliness. So I will keep moving, after just finishing my marathon.

Everyone has a degree these days, so I'm just following along with everyone else. I am reviewing my resume and going to appointments. I had a tooth filled and I helped some friends around the city. Busy, busy busy. People call on me and I have to run to them. I hate having to reel it in though. People do so many things that involve money and I have a limited fund. Oh, well. Sacrifices must be made.

Post College Afterglow

2009-05-21T23:35:00.002-04:00

Nineteen, a hot day in August. My parents move me to Brooklyn in a hurry, but with enough downtime for my father to make annoying commentary. This makes me wonder if his soul purpose in life is to annoy me. My mother is sobbing and my father wants to get home. Unlike other parents, they are not planning on spending the weekend of my orientation with me. I am not aware of it at the time, but my parents expect me to return home in a couple months. Defeated and upset about the way I am treated in this harsh city. There is no reason to prolong this goodbye, when we will be reuniting in a couple of months. My hair is much blonder back then.

Twenty, a cold day in January. I'm in my second year at Pratt and just discovering all I can about myself. I am losing focus in computer graphics and feeling suffocated from having lived in such a small town my entire life. I have met a boy who is introducing me to a new world--sexually. It's all so thrilling and exciting. I wonder how much of it I can explore and how I never really discovered any of this before. I want to have sex with as many different people as I can and I want to try as many drugs that I can get my hands on. I have lived such a sheltered life up to this point and I have this urge. I feel I am so behind everyone else, I need to catch up as quickly as possible. My pants were much baggier in those days.

Twenty-one, a cool afternoon in September. I am a theater major at Brooklyn College. I have part-time job and make good money. I am a mild drug addict. I am a big time sex object. This is the life I wanted to achieve and I could do it all in balance. I was doing it all. The thoughts I had then, seemed so logical. Yet, when I rethink them, they all seem so insane. I went through homelessness, scabies, HIV scares, etc. I had to survive by laughing and realizing how insane it all was. My life was a joke and that was the beginning of the problem. I began to find it more funny than serious. I found a lover who allowed me to be wild, but gave me the support I wanted. My glasses were rather thick back then.

Twenty-Two, a warm day in February. I am becoming a functional stoner. Life is good in so many ways. I've seen the other side of the world and I am almost through with school. I am seeing someone who is less ambiguous than the last man who broke my heart for a little while. I am clean off from drugs. Things are in a solid and comfortable place. My hair was much shaggier and unkempt.

I am on my way to Come Back Little Sheba and I get a phone call. Time changes and I lose focus. The days pass and more information is gained. The certainty of life begins to decieve. The relationship ends. I have no time to reflect on any of the events that have happened in the past few months. I breakdown and lose motivation. I want to sink into nothing. I want to get through because I have to. I don't give up, but my body begins to go into auto-pilot. I cry and brood. I don't know of a day when I can tell I will ever fully trust life again.

Twenty-Three, a hot day in May. I am sitting here in my room. I finished my last final in a record of 30 minutes, I think I did well. All the answers just came to me. I am lost in thoughts of the last five years. The ups and downs. I cannot help it, it had to happen eventually. It's been five years and what is five years in a life that is supposed to last at least fifty? At least fifty, probably more.

How did I develop into this person? I know everyone changes. For better or for worse. It's a journey we all take. Do other people have this simple story? Five paragraphs (maybe six) that you can draw key points, but skip on all the other stuff. There's so much more that happened. Yet, I can't remember it all. I will hold the things worth remembering and I will forget the stuff I wish to forget.

Keep on moving along. Nothing to see here.

On This Eve Before My Last Day

2009-05-20T23:36:00.003-04:00

Tonight is the last full day I was a student, if you will. After tomorrow I will be through with college. For the time being.

To sit back and think of the ups and downs of the last five years would be enough to cause mental collapse. Last night I had the film professor spend the night and it was a dire mistake. I freaked out again. I feel bad, it was a fault on both sides. What was nice was I went to therapy and actually just talked about it and it was done.

I will send him an email telling him that I am emotionally retarded. I am torn down the middle. Go to LA and leave me here to heal myself. When you return perhaps I shall be a different person, but let's keep the short time that we had together as memories. Memories of what could have been. Let's not try and make it into something that cannot be.

Then it will be more poetic that way and less upsetting.

Onto other things. Like that of the end of college. It's over . . .I was told I need to pick the right exit music. What do I leave the campus, as my last thought? Rose's Turn? I'm Going Back? I can't decide. It'll come to me tomorrow after the final. I will find it. Probably something Nina Simone. It must be appropriate though. Just must.

Now some stream-of-conscience —
I see a door, it's a plain brown square with a single knob. It's nothing frightening aside from the large imposing shadow it casts towards me. Beyond the door is unknown, which is the terrifying part of it all. I know I need to go beyond this door, but I am afraid. Nervous. People say it's silly and that I look around and see everyone else has survived. Yet, this door has been something I've been working towards for years, weeks days and months. I will go through the door, but I am still nervous.

The Day Approaches

2009-05-18T20:17:00.003-04:00

Two more finals. Then it's through! I have nothing to report.

Tonight is the first night actually being home in almost a week or so. Just going to sit in tonight and relax. I need that, to relax.

I missed the gayest day yesterday. The AIDS walk and the Pro-Gay Marriage Equality Walk where Audra McDonald did this:

I would have love to have been there. She's such a beautiful songstress. I'm glad she's on our side, but why wouldn't she be?

My roommate returns from Florida soon. That's exciting. I go to the Poconos sooner than that. I graduate college soonest of all. Now I'm finally going to sit down and watch Volver and increase my love for Penelope Cruz. Oh have I mentioned this yet and how excited I am . . .

Who Out There Could Love You More Than I?

2009-05-17T02:08:00.002-04:00

More working on the Film Short. I was an extra today and my sunburn from yesterday was very prevalent to the human eye.

The straight girls on this film love me. It's what I know I'm good with that I do, actors love me and my supervisors enjoy me. Now it's time to start getting paid for this work.

I went to Gaymer Birthday party. After finishing The Velvet Rage, I couldn't help but notice the room was full of people who were just like it was described. From the 19-year-old meth addict, who was sweet but in stage 2. To the sassy guy who argued with me about my tattoos. Oh it's like being a prophet. Only I can see the truth.

Then there was the moment where in their lack of conversation they would look to me. Cause I can always keep a conversation going. I looked back and said, "I have nothing to entertain you with right now." It made everyone stand there silently, and I felt okay with that.

I had loving friends there though, so that was worth it.

Tomorrow is my Philosophies of China and India final. This is not thrilling, since I've hardly studied. We shall see. I can't fail, I can only pass. Failing isn't written in the prophecy.

A Trip To New Jersey

2009-05-14T23:58:00.003-04:00

The ambien has kicked in, but that's what I need right now. A pill to stop me in my tracks.

Tomorrow I drive out to New Jersey and I have to work on another film short. Once again not being paid. It'll be fine.

I must go to class though, as 6 AM draws nigh.

The Professor of Film is calling me and asking how I am doing. It scares me because perhaps this is something more. Perhaps, I didn't scare him away. Maybe there is a chance something could happen. He also is afraid to hurt me, so he's being a friend.

The Sex-Addict has already mentioned, "If I found someone else, would you hate me?"

Darling, you're more fucked up than I am! And you're letting me down?! Hysterical.

Yesterday, I went to the beach on an unexpected journey. It was delightful. It helped me forget the bad news I've been learning as of late.

Finished The Velvet Rage. . .Girls we've got work to do.

Patterns — A Story of Loneliness

2009-05-13T02:05:00.004-04:00

I've had three rather successful dates with this Film Professor. Tonight we saw a badly acted, but lesser known Tennessee Williams play: Vieux Carré. I really enjoyed the writing and he went some interesting places with it. It was his last Broadway play, and I wish I could see it with talent behind it.

As per my usual. The Film Professor is scared of my affliction. It makes them nervous, it always does and always will. No matter how many times I go through this, I still get upset. There's also his age vs. mine that seems to bother him. He is a good 20 years older than me. So I suppose I see that too. Then there is also the space, as he lives in Boston normally and is spending the rest of the summer in L.A.

A chance meeting in a bar a week ago. That concluded seven days later. It was a pleasant affair and it will be hard to let go of something that has clicked so easily. He can discuss theater and movies so easily. We speak so well to each other and the attraction is there.

All I hear in my mind is these words I once heard from a stranger in the night. "Someday you will want a normal life. Quit your ways before it's to late." I heard that such a long time ago and I can't help but feeling it's a curse. Like a warning uttered by a gypsy. He was telling me the truth, and I was to late. I was to late.

That's the part that hurts to most and makes me cry.

Time Draws Nigh

2009-05-10T01:11:00.003-04:00

The Velvet Rage is almost done. Not for me, but the book. Fascinating, the lot of it. It's obvious, but as the author says at some point. It's not always so obvious at the time. All the anger and hate I've been feeling towards myself. With this book making these issues known, it's helping me actually be able to articulate them for once.

I have two Sunday classes left, one of them being the final for Philosophies of India and China. That's the one final I'm terrified of, I don't know how I'll necessarily pass any of them. This ones gonna be the most difficult though. These two weeks will pass and suddenly it will all be done. With a hoot and a holler I will be done. Five years to get to a point of complete confusion.

In an ironic turn of events. I got a jury summons in the mail. They want me there on the day I walk in graduation. I laughed for a long while upon receiving that one. I'll postpone, but still. Hah!

I had a date on Friday. It was unexpected. I need to go back a few days though . . .

On Tuesday I visited my drag queen friend at a bar where she was hosting the night. It was rainy and empty when I entered. My friend came up and said, "Hi honey, wanna win $50 bucks in a Hot Package Contest?" Of course I said yes.

There was no competition and I stripped down to my undies. I won because it was me against a go-go boy and a mail clerk. Plus, I knew most of the people in the bar, still it was very empty. I could use the 50 bucks. After my lackluster performance I jumped off stage and an older man sitting near my friends was looking at me.

I mentioned I had Judy Garland tattoo'd on my rib cage and the man chimed in that he was so impressed that a person my age would have that sort of tattoo. That night I got drunk so incredibly quickly that I was highly talkative when he began our discussion.

Considering on Monday the Vespa-Rider decided to play the 5th in a long line of reoccurring situations. I was not going to deny a man's conversation. I was drinking and he was incredibly polite. I learned he was a film professor spending some time visiting friends in the city—he teaches in Boston—and he gave me his card. I thought nothing off it. I knew he was probably somewhere in his forties and in the lighting I couldn't tell if he was attractive or not. Plus, I was drunk.

I returned home and went to bed. I thought nothing of the polite gestures and figured it would end there. On Thursday, he called me to talk. It's been a while since a man could discuss theater, film and the arts. I told him I was 23 and I heard him have a small stroke over the phone. I told him not to worry, these things don't bother me.

I figured a date couldn't hurt. We set up plans for Friday. He learned from my stripping that I had a nice body, I'm unemployed and I have a Judy Garland tattoo. So he took me to dinner and the ballet.

Yes, dinner and the ballet. We spoke so eloquently and got along very well. I learned he was 44, but that doesn't bother me, as I said. He was a gentleman. After the ballet we walked around the park and held hands. We laid on the grass and made out. I told him no more that that, I have plenty to reveal in other days.

It was a positive experience overall. I'm taking it with a grain of salt and we shall see.

In other news, I had dinner with The ShyGuy. He was curt with me tonight because of his new medicine. I care about him more than he possibly will ever know. I don't like to be scolded for simple things and I told him, "I'm going home after dinner." He apologized, but it hurt me. He's already so hard to read, I don't need to suffer from anything more. He knows this, it's funny what we feel for ones we care about.

March of the Falsettos

2009-05-06T22:35:00.003-04:00

I'm going to just voice some thoughts. It's more just to get them out of my head because they are not worth dwelling on. It's not necessarily worth doing, but since I began to read The Velvet Rage. Which I love and hate my Australian friend for sending me.

It's a self-help book isn't it? Oh it's going to make me question myself! Damn you! To hell! Yet, it won't be a bad thing, it'll be nice to know. It's already helped my mindset in realizing that I suffer from this alleged Velvet Rage. All homosexual men do, but I seeing that.

As for my current and temporary frustration. It's one thing to have 4 cases of the same incident happen. I think one would variably notice the reoccurring themes, as I do too. Tra-la! It's okay, people seem to spend a couple of nights with me and they realize they never want to end up alone.

So they date someone else.

It's okay, I have terrific friends. So that allows me to keep my figure and I have more emotional love than I can handle. It's this God Damned Velvet Rage. Pointing out these issues, I need to finish this book so I can know there are solutions. I can't deal if there is no solutions!

May The Vespa-Rider live long and happily with his boyfriend. I wish them well and I made a delicious dinner tonight. My nervous energy went into a meal and this delightful little dinner was created from it.

I also slammed my right fist repeatedly against the wall and cupboards several times. Not to any sort of harm that is lasting and I know and respect that it's not "healthy." I am identifying with this Velvet Rage. That's why I need to read to the end of this book.

Yay for Next To Normal

2009-05-05T17:34:00.003-04:00

Yay! Alice Ripley! This is your year and no one deserves it more than you! Belt your raspy heart out to the Tony Awards!

Hurray for getting 11 Tony Nominations, may it improve ticket sales endlessly!

And for [title of show], I'm glad you got one nomination and may you win that one!!

Night of 1,000 Stevies: A Tragic-Comedy

2009-05-02T17:19:00.005-04:00

For those of you not familiar with the event. Night of 1,000 Stevies is a celebration to the Goddess that is Stevie Nicks. The lead singer of Fleetwood Mac. A women with enough vocal power and talent to have a night dedicated to her once a year, for 19 years and counting. I know Stevie fairly well and I have enjoyed some of her songs immensely, but an event like this has never been something I would find myself drawn to.

Yet, I walked into the doors last night. No one really checked my validity for being there. I told the doorman I had a ticket waiting for me and I told the Box Office window that my friend had left me a ticket. She stamped my wrist affectionately and told me that was my way in and out of the venue. Never saying my name of showing anyone I.D. I had infiltrated the event.

I lied my way into Night of 1,000 Stevies, though I was invited properly. Yet, I felt I'd cleverly snuck into a place I truly didn't belong. I was brought there when the LA Lover reappeared into my weekend. He had an extra ticket and offered it to me, but not before exhausting other possibilities (via facebook). At the time, I thought I was being treated with special behavior.

He was friendly and tipsy when I arrived. Everyone there was friend and in some state of drunkenness. Excluding my one friend who has been sober for 3 years, yet he seemed to be the most intoxicated. On Stevie's voice, perhaps?

It was a very calm attitude and so many gay men! An unlikely mixture. Everyone from Hell's Kitchen Queens to Williamsburg Hipsters are drawn to this woman. I can admit that after last night, I will be too. Stevie, come into my life!

Even my friends are drawn to Stevie Nicks. Why not? She has no ill will to anyone and her songs are like poetry. She casts spells it seems. I enjoyed it immensely! If only I had shown up with my friends and not the LA Lover. I felt a tie binding myself to his company, because he invited me. My friends purchased their tickets.

I figured since I was spending time in his company, I may as well sleep with him tonight. . .

Yes, Virgina, I know that this isn't the right attitude to take. Don't worry in a moment you'll find out how karma got the best of me. So the LA Lover was being his typical LA self, but in a tipsy state. . .

(Never ending Stevie Nicks odes are performed in the background throughout the scene. They are higher up on a stage. The volume is extremely lower than in real life, but the players shout all the same. LA LOVER and IGUANA wear the same black American Apparel Sweater, but IGUANA wears a nice blazer over it. LA LOVER is wearing eyeliner and has a smokey eye as well.)

LA: All these mixed gendered people! Oh it's so magical! Let me buy you a drink!
IGUANA: Oh thanks, is that okay? How expensive are the drinks. . .
LA: Tonight, money doesn't matter! I know you are being more reserved these days, I want to liquor you up! Take that edge off. . .
IGUANA: Okay, then I'll take my drinks three at a time.--(Realizes it's not a joke)--Cran and vodka, thanks.
(LA LOVER flounces off and IGUANA watches the drag queens and Hedwig look-a-likes walk by.)

It was impressive and disappointing at times. This was one of the times it was very successful . . . This is what Taylor Mac does normally:

The night wore on and I stayed out of curiosity and I figured my invitation was also into the arms of the LA Lover. As life would have it, the wheels turn there was never anything in the lies he told me last Christmas. I simply turned for a moment and he was making out with a drunk guy, to which he abandoned me. It was graceless and tacky. I suppose it was my just reward for assuming we would go home together.

As simple as that, I am hardly interesting. A drunk boy who is cuter than me throws himself in your face and hardly a goodbye. I suppose there's some divine law out there that says I deserved that kind of respect. To be left by myself in a space, to be flirted with and then denied.

I left the party shortly afterward, next year I would return on my own terms. With my own friends and not with ex-LA Lovers. I took a cab home out of frustration, so I would feel the wind of the BQE and not have to worry about battling subways at 2:30 AM.

Upon arriving home I went to bed. The dream that followed was insane. It was Alice in Wonderland in it's beginning. I laid down in bed and shortly got up to return to Night of 1,000 Stevies. I had unfinished business. What proceeded was an epic battle filled with sex, fights, flying, Margret Cho and blood. Red blood. It was a terrifying dream and it was epic. Epic in every way!

I awoke thinking I had actually returned to Night of 1,000 Steveies and feeling weary at all the decisions that had been made. It took me all of five minutes to realize it had just been a dream. Yet, I felt like serious decisions had been made. Words were said that could not be taken back.

I felt like weeping, despite the fact none of it happened. It was the necessary ending to an unresolved reality. I was left stranded amongst Stevie Nicks's everywhere! As if I had the eyes of God looking at me from every direction. I want to hang my head in shame, instead I ran home and fell into a world where I create make my own ending.

The Umbrellas Cherbourg

2009-04-30T23:58:00.004-04:00

I spent most of yesterday throwing up. All this talk of Swine flu had me nervous that I had caught it. Turns out it was probably just food poisoning. Hurrah!

I'm seeing Billy Elliot the Musical tomorrow. It's interesting, it's one of those shows I have little interest in. I loved the movie and thought it was sweet. An Elton John score means I may be terribly disappointed, but perhaps I'll be pleasantly surprised. I heard the dancing is superb and that's why I want to see it.

I meant to write more, but I got distracted looking for The Secret Garden to re-listen to. Oh well, it's not like I have anything profound to say these days.

I Don't Know Why . . .

2009-04-26T23:30:00.003-04:00

This weekend was a delight. It really was. I saw plenty of good friends and I got lots of good sun. I walked in the park. I did hot yoga, which I now love. I watched good movies and slept fairly well.

Yet, at the end of this weekend I feel lonely. I feel as if something is missing. I will not let it ride into my mind anymore than tonight. I will not wake up tomorrow feeling these feelings.

Tonight though, tonight I can't help but feel them.

I have been quiet these last few weeks, but for good reason. I'm working things out in my mind, trying to put it all in place. I wish it would just click, but I know there is work to be done.

I guess that's all for tonight. That's all there can be.

Losing Focus

2009-04-21T13:52:00.004-04:00

I'm 23-years-old. It's okay to feel nervous and unsure about the future! There is nothing wrong with that!

These last few weeks I have just felt such anxiety and a fear of the future. Today marks exactly one month until I finish classes forever. I enter the world of adults and begin a life!

Unfortunately, I have been having a dilemma these days. I just feel like I have lost my focus. There are those people who have plans. They will do this and be here at this point in their life. I don't know if I have that, or have had it for sometime.

That's what scares me, the fact I can't even figure it out. I try to think about my future, but I just don't know. I suppose I could start general and just pick big goals and let those lead into specifics.

I watched the HBO Grey Gardens this weekend. It was amazing and was a great movie to add to the Grey Garden's Legacy. It shook me though, I mean what does not shake me these days? Watching Little Edie in her youth, the things she thought, did and said. They were me.

I began to get worried that I could possibly end up trapped somewhere my whole life. That I did not want to be in. I know that recognizing this fear, means I won't allow myself to ever get trapped in that situation. Yet, there are somethings in life that happen and we can't control. . .

Oh, I'm letting these ghosts sit around for to long. We will keep going! As we do!

The Danger Party

2009-04-18T20:00:00.003-04:00

Last night the ShyGuy and I went to the Brooklyn Masonic Temple and attended the Danger Party.

It reminded me of a cross between short bus and a rave. We took some shrooms to begin the night and then someone offered us Mali, which is the "purest part of E". Which I took two and really feel I was tricked. Straight people don't understand their drugs. Then someone sold us a pill of what I guess was actual E. ShyGuy made that decision, I just decided why not?

Yes, yes the chemicals! The dangers. These are the challenges of life. All I really got from all that is night sweats and I started rolling when I was in bed. Cause I couldn't fall asleep.

The party was multiple rooms. The upstairs being a auditorium with bleechers and movie projections and the downstairs acting like a rave, which is essentially as I said the above room was. There was also ice sculptors and ladies eating fire. People were dressed as various ideas dealing with the bail out. It was fascinating to see who showed up, yet I was there too. I felt I was there more for a sociology project. I always see myself observing things, never partaking in them. Telling!

I was by far one of the youngest people there, but there were a few. So many people were just fucked up, like publicly fucked up. It was a liberating feeling. It was fairly interesting music and the setting was fascinating. The people who show'd up were numerous and older, but a lively sort of crowd.

I can see why after about one of these you would be over it.

Just A Windy Week

2009-04-17T17:23:00.004-04:00

It flows by, time. This week is coming to a conclusion and I have not done very much. I've been highly inactive, though I have done plenty. Plenty of nothing.

Today consisted of laying in the park with the ShyGuy. Ah, how time causes these issues to clear themselves. We're growing closer and slowly understand each other a little better.

Tonight I'll be going to a Masonic Temple in Brooklyn. There will be bright lights and music playing. I will be rolling and enjoying the music. Tomorrow is Gray Gardens on HBO. Thrilled doesn't begin to explain how I am feeling about Saturday.

For now I leave you with the gayest video ever. Gayest EVER.

On a Fire Escape . . .

2009-04-14T22:03:00.003-04:00

Time has been calming. It's passing as it's supposed to. I am taking the week to veg out. Doing the projects I've been ignoring for a while. Sitting in doors and just thinking.

Today I had a panic as I left my apartment building without my keys or wallet. It's one of my biggest fears and it happened this grey Tuesday morning!

No one else was home. How did I regain access to the apartment? I climbed up the fire escape, with the help of a ladder from the Super. Then I tried window by window, knowing my own fault to always make sure they are locked.

Except one! Oh my glorious roommate leaving a window unlocked. My subletter blocking the way with boxes. Oh and it was a window off the fire escape. Meaning I had to leap into the room, pushing boxes aside, from the top half of the window.

It was thrilling and dangerous! I could've broken my neck. I will always leave that window unlocked. So it saved what would otherwise be an awful day.

Rise Up With Fists

2009-04-12T18:38:00.003-04:00

First, my mother was in the hospital when I arrived home. She is fine and healthy. Simply a staph infection on her elbow. It was just a bit frightening to deal with mentally. So when I saw Next To Normal I cried the entire night.

I'll be leaving back tomorrow. Where I am due to meet up with the ShyGuy. Just hang out and talk, I don't know what to expect. It won't necessarily be a comfy visit, but it's just has to happen.

I've been thinking of alternate life decisions I want to make. Everyone upstate discusses my motivation and ambition. When they tell me of it I feel so confused. I haven't been doing anything. I mean I have, but now I am in that lull. Hopefully for only one more month too. Or else I don't know what will happen. Something will happen.

I'll get back to you when I know what's going on.

Eh, well. . .

2009-04-09T16:31:00.007-04:00

My roommate seems to be projecting her negative feelings this way. Not wise Miss, not wise. That's all I'm gonna say.

I'm doing laundry tonight. I have an early appointment and I intend to stay home and be complacent with it. Are you happy with that? Good. Good.

In other news I am seeing Next To Normal tomorrow. On Broadway! I did not see this move happening and I fear that if it does not get glowing reviews it will close rather quickly! I hope it has a healthy run. The lyrics are a little kooky, but I don't look at this show as the correct way to deal with mental illness. I just see it as a melodrama of ideas and themes.

The score is interesting to the ear. And has a very contemporary feel. I applaud Tom Kitt for creating it and the rock sound.

The other reason I'm seeing this a third time, is I saw Next To Normal for the first time over a year ago. It was before my diagnosis. The second was the impending days before my diagnosis. When it all happened, I could never relate to anything more closely than this show. Diane is going through these upsets that I related to. This feeling of loss and forgetting where your life is going. It really hits close to home on several levels. Not to mention Alice owns this role to no end! Tony award, please!

So tomorrow will be the third time I see this show. I have listened to the revised score and enjoy the changes, though I'm upset they cut out her Rock 'N' Roll electric shock therapy hallucination number Feeling Electric. I guess they thought it was to much? I'm just glad I have had a chance to see this show change.

Now I want to do something very foolish, but I feel it must be done. Every time I listen to the soundtrack, I remember how it's an Anti-Musical because it's so dark. Yet, I applaud them for doing just that. Whenever Alice Ripley opens her mouth I get chills. She has proved a great strength for me in this last year, through her voice. I want to tell her that.

I'm gonna wait at the stage door and do it. I must do it.

Today I spent with The Vespa-Rider in Fort Greene Park. It's a pretty place, we spoke seriously. He doesn't want to date me and I understand this. So I'll just be his friend. End of story. Done. Finished.

Those Idle Hand Blues

2009-04-08T12:58:00.001-04:00

I'm feeling frustrated and anxious. The apartment is all mine. To most people this could be a dream, to me, this is a prison. To which I am making my escape.

I feel all the old triggers being set off. I'm resisting the urges. Which makes the alone thing more difficult. Simple as the touch of another's hand. Oh, these days!

I've cleared up ideas with others and as per expectation. I am reading into things, which is fine. I just needed to know. So I'm not totally destroyed, I just know what it really means.

There's a suffocating feeling that comes. A mixture of cabin fever, feelings of being trapped in a burning car and watching the walls slowly close in around you. There is a mixture of defeat, but the urge to keep trying until the last minute always remains.

If I slip and quell my idleness in the only way I want to. I will know that I escaped this suffocation, but for only a moment. For it's getting these quick and sharp breaths of fresh air, inhaling this sky, that I choke more.

I am prolonging an inevitable that I could carryout and succeed with no results. Yet, if I do. Then there are the steps you have to follow up with. Oh, can you handle that gentle Iguana?

Until then . . .

April Showers

2009-04-08T00:57:00.002-04:00

It's spring break. I'm surrounded by relapses and Cancer scares. I have to witness these events and I feel no power to change them. I can't, I just have to sit and watch. What help can I possibly offer? My presence, but otherwise I have no other abilities to handle these things.

I feel sad by all that's not going well for friends. I don't know, it just feels like a lot. I feel like things are not heading in directions I would prefer. That leaves me fearful and sometimes these things happen. Tra-la.

Final Group

2009-04-07T00:40:00.001-04:00

The group sessions are done for 7 weeks. I left pensively, but life is where it is at this moment. I will find order in my life eventually. That's what I said I'd like to work on and it's true. These are the small steps we take.

The Aria for the Night

2009-04-05T22:53:00.004-04:00

I am home and going to sleep soon. Soon being a relative term. I rolled out of bed today with all the ill intentions of a villain committing a crime. Instead, I saw a recital and had dinner with new friends who have come into my life.

I reflected on issues in my head about the ShyGuy and what happened earlier this week. I put the problems of his, ahead of my own. I don't know what that means, except that I am growing up. Such childish reasons to be an adult, because a REAL adult won't get his act together. 31-years-old and relapsing. I can't even cry about my petty issues for a moment.

As I said, I'm growing up.

Growing, growing. We advance in maturity and I mistake life lessons for passing moments. Only to stumble upon them later, discarded like stickers than fell to the floor. Still sticky with growth, but slightly used.

I want to prove that I'm growing. That I'm progressing. It's terrifying. Let's see. . .

This week I went to an interview and I held myself at bay. I didn't freak out at the cattle call of it all. How people were ushered in and out. It was merely a barbacking gig. Minus the E and with all the respect too. If I procure this, I will count my blessings. Who knows, who truly knows.

As you can see, I am trying to prove my growth to you, for this is the only documentation I have of it. I am finished with school, mentally.

Spring break begins this Wednesday. My support group ends this Monday. I am visiting my parents this Saturday. There are so many days to do things, when will I rest? Yet, I am at rest now.