Monthly Archives: February 2006

Touch Me I’m Sick

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Woke up again this morning. A hard habit to break. Felt a bit odd, and gave serious consideration to calling in sick. Totally out of sorts. If you read last night’s posting you can see why my heart might not have been in it. But I rallied my self and got it together, suited up and out the door. No hustle, couldn’t if I tried. Subwayed again and got to work on time and promptly started to disintegrate.

Nose wouldn’t stop running and a feeling of being two or three steps behind myself. Didn’t feel like a cold or anything, felt more like allergies. With the allergies, a section of my head gets congested, a quadrant gets all stuffed. I could barely last 2 hours before I headed back to the subway.

Got to the Path after hopping off the N train and found an empty car to veg out in. Back in sunny and cold Hoboken I walked home after buying some Advil. Came home, and crashed for about 3 hours. Very deep sleep. Best sleep I’ve had in days.

Woke up and went outside to get some fresh air, wandered around. It was a lot warmer. There is anticipation about a Nor’easter approaching this weekend. I don’t plan on going anywhere. I am not operating at 100%. More like 75%.

Bill’s good. He’s being very caring. The shoe is now officially on the other foot since I was doing the same for him only a few weeks ago. He leaves for Detroit on Tuesday, stage-managing the ‘Monk’ play about Thelonious Monk, not the detective with Obsessive Compulsive Disorder.

That’s about all I can muster this evening, me feeling the way I do.

Here’s something from the past in lieu of anything else. I am on the mend.

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Heaven is Waiting. Waiting is Hell.

Memorial Day weekend, 2003. In Hoboken the Memorial Day parade was Wednesday 5/21. They like to get a jump on things here it seems. It was like a race what with the commuters walking down the sidewalks of Washington Street, racing the aging Veterans walking slowly, or in slow Cadillac convertibles, followed by the men on horseback.
Various shop owners leaning outside their doorways, looking at the parade. Commuters walking neck and neck, veterans, arm in arm. Racing against the rain that was sure to come.

Called El Jefe to see if he was watching the parade, but called at home. Turns out he and Lady Gigglepuss were out watching the parade. He called back after they had gotten home, Gigglepuss loving a parade. I myself had marched in too many parades when I was a kid; Memorial Day Parade was the specialty in Saddle Brook. I marched with the Junior Rifle Squad, wearing spats and epaulets and a big gray Calvary hat with a yellow kerchief around my neck. A wooden dummy rifle draped over my 10-year-old shoulder, walking in left right left formation.

I didn’t join the Junior Rifle Squad, I was drafted. An Al-A-Teen of sorts, we were the children of alcoholic parents at the VFW Post 3484, giving the kids something to do while the fathers and occasional mothers got soused to Sousa on Sunday afternoons. We would march in the large hall above the dark bar, where the vets could drink drafts for .25 cents a glass. We would learn to twirl rifles, and smoke cigarettes.

So we marched mostly on Memorial Day weekend. Usually Sunday. It never seemed to rain. My brother Brian, Susie Schaffer, Donna Bessemer, Lila Czwaska, her cousin Mark Traina, Sharon Mullins to name a few, were my comrades. It was a drag. Both literally and figuratively.

On Memorial Day itself, I would go with my father and head up to the VFW circle by Saddle Brook High School for the laying of the wreaths. I would scoop up the empty rifle shells after the 21-gun salute.

Anyway, I basically felt a tinge of guilt for not staying and watching the parade go by, applauding the veterans who made it this far. Or at least to 4th and Washington street where I cut across the parade and headed home through Church Square Park. The sirens faded in the distance as the parade got further and further away.

It rained later after the parade was over, I hope. Never had to march in the rain but I bet it sucks.

The atmosphere at work is edgy. Thursday couldn’t seem to be over soon enough. Any plans that I did have for the weekend had fallen by the wayside. Miss Gurl wasn’t coming up to Hoboken due to a friend returning from Iraq, and Miss Gurl wanted to spend time with him after not seeing him for so long. Can’t fault Miss Gurl for that. Harpy did invite Triple-5 and myself to his manse in LaGrangeville but with Triple-5 being super allergic to cats, and Harpy having cats he wasn’t going. I thought I was going to go, not having been since I left on 9/9/01, risking the fate of mankind, or a major catastrophe. Harpy phoned and put a kibosh on it. It was going to rain all weekend. Since I would be house bound, I decided to be housebound at home. Plus there was a futon that was being suffocated and desperately needed resuscitation.

Like I said the atmosphere at work is edgy. Each week the company sheds one more person. And with the current employment climate, it certainly is not a good time to be unemployed. My paranoia pokes its head up from time to time. I feel like my head is next on the block.

Like I had said weeks ago, I wasn’t this paranoid while I smoked weed everyday. Now that I don’t, it’s scary. Couldn’t if I wanted to, since the Rastas have moved on to Legitimacy.

Friday came, finally. At work people would ask what I was doing for the weekend. I planned on staying in, drinking wine and watching DVDs. Triple-5 came over and we watched TV, didn’t venture out, rain rain wasn’t going away. Watched ‘ A Hard Day’s Night’. Triple-5 liked Paul, I preferred George, as cutest Beatle. Loved the songs, it made me happy to see Triple-5 being able to watch the whole movie from start to finish, and liking it.

Saturday watched ‘Spirited Away’ on loan from El Jefe while Triple-5 was at his folks place. Quite nice, must watch it with Triple-5. Then we rented ‘Priscilla, Queen of the Desert’ starring Triple-5’s fave, a bus. My man has a fetish for buses. He doesn’t drink, doesn’t do drugs. Just has a thing for buses. Whatever revs one’s engine I suppose.

(My fetish? Well I’ll reveal some other time. I have more than one. Perhaps I’ll have a contest to see who can guess the most fetishes I have. Of course Triple-5 would be excluded from the contest. )

Sunday we watched ‘Rabbit Proof Fence’ which was amazing. Made tears come to my eyes. And a great score by Peter Gabriel. The great Julio made an appearance for dinner and we all watched ‘24Hour Party People again while we ate dinner. Julio was thrown by the fact that Mark E. Smith was in it for a second. Julio’s roommate at the time was friends with Mark E. and allowed him to stay in Union City with them for a time.

‘Far From Heaven’ which was a melodramatic throw back to the 50’s. Good acting all around. We love Julianne Moore and could watch her in almost anything, including the Steve Seaport story, which will be made one day if someone could write a proper script.

Monday, in lieu of going to the VFW Circle, we watched ‘Muriel’s Wedding’ which kept up the Australian theme of the weekend. “Priscilla’ and ‘Rabbit’ being the others, all we needed was some Fosters and vegemite, eh Bruce? We also watched ‘Swimming to Cambodia’ which I had seem umpteen times, even saw it at the Mitzi Newhouse theatre in the 80’s with sundry people from McSwells. Triple-5 said I Spalding Gray reminds him of me. That’s interesting. I think.

Finally watched ‘Amelie’ which I had given Triple-5 for Valentine’s Day. Really good movie. Made me want to get Triple-5 to see ‘Delicatessen’ and maybe even ‘City of Lost Children’ which I had never seen. ‘Diva’ is another one which features Dominique whathisname who was in ‘Amelie’ and ‘Delicatessen’ That’s it for now. Must return the rentals.

G’day Mate.

Set Me Free

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Here’s the dealie yo. Still not sleeping well. You probably are after reading that line. Waking up during the night. Body clock out of whack. So I wander around the apartment in a fog, making my breakfast, coffee, showering, etc. The routine. Not having enough time to stroll to work so I’ve been taking the subway to 5th avenue and Central Park South.

Painless and fast and I only wind up being 11 minutes late. I know the exact time since there are clocks everywhere. I wander in, most of the stupid people not in yet. They start drifting in. Jamie, present office manager, who has been pushing me for the position of office manager, told me that she’s looking to get out, she’s been going on interviews.

Kind of looks like the time is right for me to be the office manager, no? NO. Carla who lives in London is moving to NYC to be the office manager. I am so not considered for the position that they will have someone move to NYC from LONDON than have me do the job. Nice huh? These lovely scumbags who gypped me out of my bonus, giving Christina, my assiatant who hasn’t been there a year, a better amount than me. I have no loyalty to these pieces of shit.

But I do like Carla, she’s very nice and sweet and I doubt she knows what she’s getting herself into.

Jamie also told me that they have a lot on the Persian bitch to get her fired, but they are not going to do anything. What the fuck is wrong with these mother fucking idiots? She dresses like a whore, has nothing but attitude and does all she can to undermine any type of morale in the shithole office. The fucking president of the company is impotent and overwhelmed by her.

She has the goods on some people that much I know. Helen, adminstrative office idiot, told her some tales out of school about Colette, a woman Helen supports. Colette told Helen in confidence and now the Persian bitch has the goods on Helen. How do these people get through life without anyone bashing in their tender heads?

So they’re not doing anything to make the situation better. In fact several things have gotten worse. I have got to get the fuck out of there. So I still have jobs being sent to me via www.glocap.com, still sending out my resume. The funny thing is earlier this week I had such a better attitude, I actually though the Persian bitch was on her way out, to the curb on her bony whore like ass. Nope.

This is what the Persian Bitch resembles with her false colored eyes, dyed hair stiff and over processed like spaghetti, and does not have the personality of a comic strip character like Jasmine from ‘The Boondocks’.

A slightly unreasonable facsimile. Apologies to Aaron McGruder and Jasmine.

If you saw this bitch you would know right off the bat what type of ‘person’ she was. I mean she was horrible enough to lose her job at Bill’s law firm, where people considered waiting for her afterwork to beat her up. It’s Bleedin’ Hope’s legacy and not a thing will be done about it.

So for all my friends who were pulling for me to get this goddamned office manager position even though I knew and told those friends that it wasn’t going to happen especially after offering myself three fucking times, I told you so.

I have to take the chance and get the hell out of there. It seems it’s not getting better.