Well today was a day of inaction. On every level. I didn’t want to deal with the rain, I was tired when I woke up. So I did not go in. I couldn’t even be bothered to get out of bed until 9:00. I did make it to the store and the dry cleaners. Two noticeable accomplishments. Oh, and a 2 hour nap.

I did get a phone call from work from Christina from her cell phone, telling me that the office phones were all down. That can’t be good. Glad I missed it.

I sometimes find myself looking back at my life, in the strangest signposts. Sexual, emotional, a varied sort. I remembered, after my sister told me about how I had to be pulled off the fence when I started Grammar school. Screaming and crying for my mother, not knowing why she abandoned me at this institution. I think that is where all my abandonment issues come from. Seems pretty obvious.

Presently I am on the phone with Julio, who is playing the role of a guidance counselor.
But as he hears me typing, he doesn’t want to hold me back from writing. Now he’s hung up, didn’t want to impede my writing.

I did watch some dvd’s of Six Feet Under from Netflix. Watched the ‘That’s My Dog’ episode. Still intense and more brutal than I remembered. Michael C. Hall deserved some award for that episode. And watching the repercussions on the following episodes makes me realize what a jewel of a show it was.

I definitely related to the David/Keith storyline. Reminded me of Bill and myself. My brother Frank complained to me from time to time how annoying it was to see them argue all the time. I saw that side, yet I also saw the tender side. I don’t think Frank did. Can’t ask too much.

Frank had an emergency trip to the hospital where a procedure was done on a major kidney stone. It’s been taken care of via procedure involving a camera going up his urethra. Ouch.

Had a lengthy phone call with Kathe Charas. We’re both going thru similar yet different situations. She’s been writing and I encouraged her to start a blog. She said she’s heard that from someone else as well.

I’m thinking about taking some things that I had written a while ago, some things I wrote for Lemon Custard, others from dusty notebooks that are close to 20 years old. I like to think I’ll take an active role and maybe edit, or find some priceless jewel that I wrote while sitting on a bar stool at the end of the bar in Maxwells.

But I was so inebriated and altered at the time it might be a cautionary tale for the future generations of people who ignore blogs such as this. The Lemon Custard stuff might be worthwhile. Just have to find where I put it. It should be fun to see how little my life has changed in almost 20 years. Real fun.

Rosa Parks died last night.

The 2000th GI was killed in Iraq today. No WMD’s were found.

10.25.05

Stayed up later than usual last night, which put my day into drag mode. Drag as in slow going, not drag as in RuPaul. I was stuck for the name of a drag queen and RuPaul was the only one I could think of. Everyone knows who RuPaul is anyway. Don’t they? Or is it too Nineties? I’ve been waking up and the sun hasn’t risen, and I leave work as the sunsets. And it was cloudy cloudy cloudy today. More rain.

I made an arrangement to meet a ‘Robert’ outside of HSBC in Manhattan today. I met him as I was walking down Fifth Avenue smoking my cigar. I described what I was wearing, my double-breasted gray Givenchy pinstriped suit, lavender French cuff shirt with contrasting collar and cuffs, and a lavender silk tie with a paisley design. Very fly if I say so myself. You may stop laughing now.

Robert appeared and looked better than his photograph. Handsome and willing. But it was just a meeting, a how do you do. We walked eight blocks to 32nd Street. Lot’s of tourists, stopping right in the middle of the sidewalk. At 6:00, that could be dangerous. Robert sure does walk fast, but I maintained my pace. Paranoid me kept expecting him to bolt, but no, he just walks very fast.

I’m sure I can do a Snaporito on him, I just have to get the words right. We exchanged phone numbers and I walked thru little Korea to the PATH train. Got to Hoboken after reading Harpers, and climbed the steps into the makings of a monsoon. Hard rain and strong winds. Goodbye umbrella.

I also remembered to stop by the Library to pick up a book I ordered. Dry by Augusten Burroughs. No relation to William S. Burroughs.

I sort of enjoyed his first book, ‘Running with Scissors’, though some parts were disturbing even with my askewed principles. So I’m giving him another chance. Even if it’s a terrible book, I’m sure it would be a lot better than ‘Who Moved My Cheese’, which was given to me by Bleedin Hope as a way to help mold me into the new regime.

Work was pleasant with Bleedin Hope touring Europe for two weeks. Everyone getting along just fine, with the exception of Zilcha. I was shown an email that the wombus sent out, full of bad grammar. That was funny. It was all about the holidays for next year. Major mistakes. She’s an idiot. And she’s in charge. Very dangerous. I bet she voted for Bush.

If anyone wants to know what a Saporito is, just ask. It’s funny and I don’t mean him any harm. Came home and actually made the worst hamburger in history. I know, for me that is saying a lot. It’s so hard to ruin a hamburger but I certainly found a way. And that has found it’s way into the garbage pail.

Kept up the search for a new job. Not much out there. Got to hang in. Bonuses may be given out soon and I am definitely entitled to one. It’s a change from how I was feeling a week or so ago. The attitude of ‘If I get it I get it. If not, so what? It doesn’t really exist anyway, until it’s in my bank account. Ha! My feeble attempt at Zen Conciousness.