Cooler than You: Stupid Things I Say and Do

Friends with iPhones tell me that the auto-correct function changes fucker to duchess.  I have to take their word for it, as I am a Crackberry user (for the moment) and I do not use auto-correct.  I use spell check, but no auto . . . None-the-less, when fucker becomes duchess it turns to a point of humor.  Snickers abound about "That duchess stood me up!" "That duchess lied to me!" or "I saw that duchess in traffic." Yesterday I schlepped out to Stony Brook to see an old friend, and in the course of my life a short little venture "out East" couldn't be crazy free.  Out on the depths of Long Island, not within the comfort and restless (yet peaceful) noises of my 'hood and devoid of the Manhattan backdrop along the East River, I always feel like I am putting my memories and sanity into the hands of reckless agents of wary laden moments of self-destruction.   We already know I have seen a certain ex in traffic twice now, and yesterday mad...

In the course of a week I aimlessly wandered through Central Park and ate up the luscious shades of fall. Needless to say, I graded midterms on the subway and in the park.  I aimlessly wandered along, breathed in the crisp autumn air laced with the scents of fallen leaves, and did not have to remind myself of how much I love this city. Then . . . Then, I stopped and ate a bagel in town.  An everything bagel with chive cream cheese, and tomato slices, is my favorite dinner.  Don't forget the side of coffee.  Yea, I know . . . not the atypical dinner, but it works for me.  As I got up from my chair my knee loudly popped, others in the shop turned to look, and my eyes got big.  A dull pain began . . . That was on Saturday. I didn't go to the doctor because I had to see my Lupus guy on Thursday, so I figured why pay an extra co-pay for something that was probably minor and could be fixed with a cortisone shot and a muscle relaxer.  There is also the ...