Tag Archives: Hoboken bibliothèque

I Stand Corrected

Yes I am listening to My Bloody Valentine right now. I just had an early supper since I skipped lunch and my spirits were flagging somewhat. They seem revitalized now so hopefully that will last. It’s been a cold and snowy day and a visit to the bibliothèque was in order since there were some things that should have been returned yesterday but weren’t. DVD’s you see and the late fine is not cheap. Not too expensive either but a considerable amount more than the fee charged when a book is overdue. And while there I was chatting with the staff.

They are very excited by the fact that the other supermarket will be opening in a matter of days, but also saying they won’t go the first day since they expected it to be a madhouse. I can’t say I will stay away on day one, there is a matter of curiosity and wanting to see what was done and what has been changed. And of course I heard about the trouble one of the women is having with her 14 year old son, such trouble and being unruly, she is at her wit’s end. She also said she wished I worked there but they aren’t hiring full timers so I am out.

Resumes have gone out once again today which was leaving me with a feeling of something resembling hope. Whether or not there will be a reply is not up to me. Just looking for something behind the scenes, support staff, things like that is what I am after. The day has been edged with the blues a bit, just from looking backwards. It started last night once Bill went to bed and I was alone with my thoughts. And then there is the tumult of thoughts after the lights go out and before I drift off to sleep.

Last night Bill and I watched My Left Foot. Bill and I watched it once before but he thinks he fell asleep before it ended so he didn’t remember the car chase and the shootout with Christy Brown and his family. It certainly wasn’t as bloody as I remembered. But seriously, looking up Christy Brown in Wikipedia, the movie ended with a Hollywood ending. According to what I read, the nurse named Mary was not that nice and may have abused Christy Brown physically after they had gotten married.

After that we started to watch a documentary on Public Television which had Bill’s attention but reality ticked away on his wrist and he needed to go to bed. Of course once he went to bed things got really interesting. They were talking about Latino programming in New York City for WNET and I was smiling quite a bit when they were talking about the Electric Company. The Electric Company was after my time, but I still remembered it and got a kick watching Rita Moreno and Morgan Freeman doing their educational skits in the 1970’s.

Bill is on his way home now and I am looking forward to seeing him once again. I get into so much trouble when he’s not around. Bill did say while watching My Left Foot last night that he didn’t mind watching it again with me and that he enjoys the movies that I pick out that he should see to help him with his thespian ways. Not much else to report on this end. Cold, snow and things like that are what is going on outside, but since I am presently inside I am not paying any attention to it at all.
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Howling dog in the window

Howling dog in the window


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How do you keep that robe so white?

How do you keep that robe so white?


I Should Have Known It

Today is just an ugly day. It started out cold with snow, then cold with damp and now cold with rain. I was outside exactly one time, no need to go out again. IT’s been an antsy day, watching the laundry dry on the racks, not letting it pile up into a mountain, but instead having a little hill instead, which was much easier to manage. And the weather suits my state of mind. All my outdoor activities were a trip to the bibliothèque, to the dry cleaners to drop off hangers and the supermarket where people were generally inconsiderate and vacant. I did run into people I know, which was good.

It was the times when no one was around that I found myself muttering under my breath as I walked the streets. No more texts from Shlomo and his gang of cigar store Zionists. It was nice of Israel to give me that can of kerosene and a box of wooden matches that night at the bridge. The bibliothèque was quite a shelter for those coming in from the rain and snow and cold. From there it was to drop off the coat hangers and then to the supermarket which with each passing day gets more annoyingly mismanaged.

Last night Bill came home after spending the day with his mother. She’s not doing so well and Bill tries to go see her every chance he gets. Since he only drove the bus on Friday, he was free on Saturday and Sunday. Saturday we watched Lincoln and Sunday he watched his mother. I was out and about for a little while yesterday but mainly stayed indoors. Bill came home in time to watch an awards program that he voted in and of course every time someone he voted for won, a cheerful yell was heard in the apartment.

He went to bed soon after that, around 10:00 and I of course stayed up watching the news before I too went to bed. Slept soundly I think and woke up with anxiousness in my mind. With each passing minute the anxiety made itself known and that is why muttering under my breath when outside seemed to help, and I was able to control it when talking to friends that I saw. It was those moments alone when the butterflies in my stomach made their presence known in my gut and in my mind which I sometimes confuse.

I’m sure everything will be alright, can’t do nothing about the past and tomorrow isn’t here yet and I am sure there are things I can better fill the present with than anxiety. Bill just came home and I can focus on him instead. I have Kindle on my tablet and finished reading Diane Keaton’s memoir, titled Then Again. It’s about Diane Keaton and it’s also about her mother, going through her mother’s papers and writing after she had passed away. It was a good read and if you like Diane Keaton you will probably like it a lot.

I did use Google Analytics again. It’s been awhile and I was able to see that one person from Bayside was online reading stories that seemed to involved a certain friend of mine from the recording studio days. It was addictive as I read what they were reading for a few minutes and tried to figure out what it was they were looking for. I enjoyed it, for a few minutes I watching someone else read what I wrote. Sort of like looking over their shoulder as they read. And when they stopped reading, so did I.
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