Cooler than You: Stupid Things I Say and Do

More than a year ago I made an entry under my pen name about a cousin of mine.  The short end of him is that he makes a career out of cutting me down, and those around him.  He consistently put down my education, my writing, and everything else.  When I got published in an anthology series in 2006 he said "Who's really going to read it?"  Needless to say, my friendship with him wasn't the most healthy one.  In May 2009 he blew up at me on Yahoo Messenger, and I blocked him from my accounts.*  He made some comment that I use my Lupus and my brother's death as an excuse for my life.  He also made reference to my sister, and I at the time none of us knew where she was.  My sister will always be a touchy subject with me, and she knows this.  She came back in October, and I never bothered to tell him.  Yea.  This is also the person that when Lupus issues arose he blew up at me during a surprise visit, and he wasn't around for the infamou...

In lieu of something bonafide, I've got this.  Found it in my inbox.  Enjoy. (And you might want to read, there's news.  There's news.) 1. What time did you get up this morning? 4am, when I woke up with a taste for whiskey.  No, I did not drink any as that be would alchoholic behavior.  2. How do you like your steak? Beef makes me sad, as I do not process the proteins.  So, the correct question is how do you like your veggie burger? Answer: cooked. 3. What was the last film you saw at the cinema? I went and saw _West Side Story_ in the park last week. 4. What is your favorite TV show? Criminal Minds and Rissoli and Isles 5. If you could live anywhere in the world where would it be? Well, now that I am back in NYC I am pretty content.  Though, I still have Boston and Istanbul on the list of the ten year plan. 6. What did you have for breakfast? A Marlboro Ultra Light and Cranberry juice (unsweetened).  Yes, the Lupus patient smo...

Okay, so I'm having moments where I am beginning to sound like one of those Red Sox fans pre-2003 (I shudder) or a current Cubbie fan (even more shudders).  But, maybe this is the year will be the year.  _The View_ has had two segments on Lupus inside of a month, and now New York State is once again pushing for Lupus education.  New York does have a disproportionate amount of Lupus pateints, but education leads to other things.  It leads to research.  It leads to finding causes and cures.  It leads to people like me having more than hope. Snoop Dog's daughter Corey was diagnosed with Lupus at five, and she's ten now.  She's the daughter of someone famous.  Perhaps that will help.  As I listen to the episode from 6 August   I listen to her symptoms and think I know those feelings.  Sure, it's nice to have connections in life, but connections like this just blow.  They blow monkey's balls to be exact.  There is some ne...

If I haven't said it recently, I should say it now.  I am keenly aware of people worse off than me.  Like today, the Turkish man with one leg who hobbled down the road.  He said "Merhaba" to me, and I responded in kind.  That led to the question of I am Turkish (as we know, I am not), and that is how I know he is Turkish.  I do not know how he lost his leg, but I have both of mine.  So, I could be worse.  This conversation occurred shortly after I proofed a PTSD statement for my Dad.  Here, I should say that I originally intended on posting this blog under my pen name--as if to keep it buried within the folds of my life--but I don't like mixing the Lupus talk in with my outright dirty talk over there.  After spending an hour or so reworking his words, correcting verbs, and making the story flow I clearly felt like I needed a drink.   I won't tell you the details of what I revised, or the details of what he has told me over the yea...

Apparently there are rules to city driving that I never knew about.  Forget the fact that I've been in these parts for almost ten years, minus about eighteen months or so when I was in Dixie hell. 1. Yell Douchebag at people crossing the street.  I do that on occasion.  Okay, I do that whenever some fucktard moron stops IN THE MIDDLE of the crosswalk to look around like an idiot who has never seen electric light.  "It's so pretty.  It's so pretty.  Let's take a picture."  My boot up your ass people.      2. Whenever unloading groceries, furniture, children, the dog, or something else you should park in the middle of the sidewalk even though there are ample parking spots on the street. 3. On a one way street go in reverse so that technically you are not going the wrong direction.  You know, since you are facing the correct direction so just because your car in going the wrong way that can't be a problem. 4. When picking up so...

Yesterday I went Rockaway Beach, which is accessible via subway (for those not in the know).  Yes, folks NYC has its very own beaches.  The subway and bus out there were pretty uneventful, unless you count the fact that the Woodside stop always smells like urine. Walking off the boardwalk and onto the sandy shores I relished the feel of soft, sugary sand between my toes.  I always do.  I lathered up on the sunscreen before I left the house.  I lathered up there.  I sprawled out on my beach blanket, I ate my Turkey sandwich, and then I did what I do best.  I delved into the water, as I'm not much on just lounging on the beach all day.  Rockaway is known for its undertows and waves.  The undertow wasn't an issue yesterday, and the waves were delish. The ocean has always defined me, and the sights of machines to fight its fronts excite me.  The long plants, steep steps, and the unpredictability make me feel free and alive.  ...

In about a month I celebrate my eighteen year anniversary.  What's that, say you? Clearly, no for marriage . . . that would have put me hitched at sixteen.  Since I am still flying single and solo I am certainly not hitched.  For sobriety? Um, really? I like whiskey.  Jack, to be exact.  Never Beam as it always makes me hurl; remembered that the last trip to N'Orleans too late.  Jameson on occasion, usually in a rare sexy, lonesome,and solitary kind of mood.  Maker's only in a pinch, on account of a weekend in college.  Evan Williams never, as I think it tastes like rot-gut ass.  Okay, okay enough with the whiskey diatribe.  I celebrate eighteen years of having been diagnosed Lupus; though I doubt you really call this plight a celebration.  More so, notice I said "having been diagnosed."  Yea, Lupus always manifests before diagnosis.  In my case, I was thirteen and contracted Lymes Disease, did a stint in the hospital, saw...

If you are one of those strange freaks who likes doing laundry please send me your number, otherwise... As I sit outside the laundry mat, waiting on a load to wash (read that as I'm out of panties and I'm wearing the only thong I have; and why in the hell did I buy dental floss for my buttcrack in the first place!) the blowers make this corner of the street cool. So perhaps that is one point for the laundry mat. I despise doing laundry, and if I wasn't sweating September's rent and bills I would be using the fluff and fold. Yet, a rainbow of people float by giving me some distraction, all reflecting the blend of New York and particularly Queens. There's the Spanish Dude with his lotto tickets; he's on his third trip to this bench now. Scratch, scratch he goes with his quarter. Four women stand chatting, one with a respectably big dog and another with a dog so small it must be akin to a rat. The rat-dog lady is blonde, and she sports a white halter with t...

Tonight I traipsed over to Pier 54 and to see _Julie and Julia_ under the stars. Before we get there, there's the little question of the subway. Where I'm at in Queens the subway starts above ground, which is no big deal. It is also a quick jaunt from the airport. So, on more than a few occasions the local will encounter the traveler wanting directions. Tonight was one of those occasions. A couple asked me how to get to Times Square, and I told them to take the Q or N to 42d. I told them the end location on the train, and I told them the direction it would go. The Q was coming up. They kept saying they were told the N, which is the same, and that they needed a train in the other direction. I hopped on my Q, and as I pulled away I saw them still standing there. I can't help but wonder if they didn't get on the wrong train. Even better, as I'm standing on the 14th Street platform waiting for the Q back home Crackberring this post another tourist asked me similar dir...

Well, in a few days Jackass can celebrate his one year anniversary.  Anyone want to bet if he contacts me? Yea, we already know what those odds are considering messages of late .  But, in February all kinds of shit blew up at me , and I was left spinning.  With things like that you just get up and move on.  People die and you try to grapple with it, understand it, cope with it. You get out of your funk and move back home, to the city of lights, dreams, dirty streets, and charm.  Yes folks, I used charm in the same sentence with NYC.  You spend the night in the Upper East Side visiting an old friend, go to a movie in the park ("Breakfast at Tiffany's" at Carl Shurtz Park was awesome), and you traipse with another friend to Coney Island to get just the right amount of vitamin D and sea salt.  You make aquiantances in your neighborhood, you re-learn the subway--remembering a now funny hungover mishap as  tourist in 1997 and attempt to not laugh lik...