13 posts tagged “my crazy life”

It surprises me when someone has a picture of me in their apartment.

She has more than a couple of me in display. But I loved her before I knew that.

And the first time I went to her apartment, it wasn't planned. So there was no quick dressing up of the place unless she was psychic of supposedly spontaneous things. I stopped in after dropping them off after an all-night party to bring in the new year. As we chatted and drank the cocktail she quickly fixed, and while fussing at her for trying to clean up because it didn't matter, I did the customary peruse through her bookshelves, the setup of her workstation, the pictures of family on the refrigerator... and then I saw me.

The fridge picture was of the group of us. All four, smiling, chests in various form of cleavagry, the composition and the subjects were slightly unfocused because the picturetaker was also more than a little buzzed. I like that picture. Very much. I've posted it here before. But I've always wanted to wallpaper my own home with my favorited pictures of times with friends. Just never got around to it... There's another picture of us in her bedroom. Just the two of us.

In the dark, the view out of one side of the window was brilliant with the lights of the city. On the left side, however, it was pitch dark. Like a page was torn from the giant picture book. No forms at all to be seen. Not one shadow. Come the morning, I pressed myself up against the class and saw the reason: We were at the edge of swampland. Right there below us, marshes, largely untouched and then directly next to the wild greeness was the largely uninteresting banality of Atlantic City lit not by neon, but by daylight.

I squealed in wonder at my realization. I squealed even louder when I strained to look further into the wetlands and I saw wind turbines. Friggin windmills, yo! The girls chuckled at me. ZOMG the bed is sooo comfy! Oh and look! Robes! This place is sooo nice! The hotel was nice. The room was awesome. And the shower was totally sexy! And they chuckled and laughed at me, not only because I was genuinely so excited, but because I was expressing their excitement, they're just a bit more classier than me to not ZOMG at everything. I skipped past the Bobby Flay's and Emeril eateries to the regular folk foodcourt and swore that Fatburger was the best burger ever. ZOMG. And I was captivated over the now long-foreign concept of being able to smoke indoors. Oh this is so crazy!! The pings and chimes of the slot machines. The labrinthine floorplan of the casino that went on forever and the way the lighting never changed so we never knew what time it was. It wasn't new to me. I had seen brighter lights. More ostentacious forms of consumption and temptations. But I was in a different place...and it was all so fun. And hilarious. And exciting.

The girls giggled at my foolishness because they agreed it was all so nice. Incredibly nice. To get away for a couple of days. To be out with your friends. To be on a road trip and bop to the same song on loop over and over and never get sick of it for some reason. To be out of our element yet not feel exposed because we weren't alone. We had each other. To have something to look forward to, whether it be the John Legend concert or the gambling later or even the ride back home. We woooooo'ed at the traffic bumps in the parking garage as Safi zoomed over like we were in a mini-roller coaster. So silly, but what did it matter. It was all a really good time.

And the view from our window that morning answered all my questions from the night before. What looked pitch before was actually far more interesting than I had imagined. I liked being out of my element and finding fascination out of discarded swamps at the edge of excess which was silently finding a repurposing... friggin WINDMILLS, yo! Out of my familiar but I wasn't alone and exposed. And I appreciated what I had a bit more, though I didn't need the reminder.

I ordered five shots of various liquors of respective preferences. The bartender charged me $20. I gave him $25 because that was ridiculous... and I had found my new favorite place.

I passed the shots out to my companions. I gave out the terms as we strained to hear the opening monologue before the last 2008 Presidential Debate. The bar refused to lower the volume of the music in the main room; we were all cramped and gathered by the one TV elevated above us on closed captioning.

"Ok, we can't take a shot over something like 'Maverick' or 'My friends'. We have to swig after something big and controversial... after Ayers!"

Within ten minutes that shot was taken.

After twenty minutes or so, I was getting incredibly soused. I turned when I got a sudden nudge from behind me to find Leslie passing out more liquor. But this time not in shot glasses but in lowball glasses - and filled a third of the way. Horrifying. We asked her intention. What were the terms of the shots this round? She had no idea, left it to us. We wondered outloud and repeatedly to each other while our eyes were trained to the debate. We had no clue, we held the glasses with no real purpose.

Suddenly while McCain was speaking, the captioning read "Cock Mania". The entire room huh'ed in unison. Cock mania? McCain kept speaking, we could barely hear him. The words Cock Mania danced up the screen to under his chin then disappeared. We all shouted in confused glee COCK MANIA.

And then took the shot.

Footnote: We later found out the word he did utter was "cockamanie". Our word was better.

"...thus this story has no pictures, but this is not important. it is the experiences, the memories, and the triumphant joy of living to the fullest extent in which real meaning is found. god it is great to be alive. thank you. thank you."
- christopher mccandless

* I had to make sure my gifts would arrive in California (my brother) and Michigan before Christmas. The last day for guaranteed delivery is Friday, today. I tried to make it happen for yesterday just to be safe and to preserve some sanity while the whole world is rushing. I rushed around yesterday evening buying the standing tools for wrapping, including boxes, wrapped gifts and wrote snazzy messages at work, loitered at FedEx (nicest people, f'real. Even during this insane part of the season)  to get boxed and tape (you have to purchase tape, too, did you know that?) to make the last pickup deadline. Made it... Sweet. Wake up this morning to hear that a FedEx truck, just last night, just after the last pickup deadline, got held up by gunpoint and totally is PoofPowGone. Nothing like an early morning panic to get the blood going. I did a quick tracking search. My packages not swiped. In fact they're already in Memphis. Life is good again.

* At about 6:30 this morning on the uptown Q train, between Canal and Union Square, a young lady who was sitting and talking with her friend suddenly gets up from sitting, holds on to the pole in front of her, wrenches her feet up above her head to nearly touch the car's ceiling, and then partially upside down legs in the air stripper slide down with a partial twist down the pole. Me and another random girl across from her smile approvingly. lolNY.

* This accompanying comment thread amuses me greatly so.

* Oh and taking the whole market thing in stride with morning Trading Places references? Always good times.

* I'm a pretty happy heifer, lately. Someone out there has been trying to take better care of me than I do myself. It's an odd feeling, but I'm starting to get used to it... if only I learn to relax some, eh?

* Because I have no debit card (lost it this week), I must do a physical withdrawal at the bank. I walk east on 53rd. The light changes and I am stuck at the sidewalk bisecting Park Avenue. My ipod is pumping with some Mexican music from one of the Kill Bill movies. I feel like I should be riding a horse in slo mo. Across the street is a motor home with a giant sign saying "Mitzvah Bus" which makes me chuckle. What a great word: "Mitzvah". I always read it as "good works" though I'm almost positive it doesn't exactly. I could always pronounce Hebrew/Yiddish words better than I can understand them for obvious reasons; being accustomed to being around Jews, not being one.

  I suddenly sense someone veryclose behind me. I turn to see a woman, perhaps in her late forties. Dark Grey frizzy hair spilling from under her knit cap. Slightly unkept but bundled. One glove off, her other hand holding a cellphone to her ear. I see her looking at me, but that could be because i'm looking at her and how very much up behind me she is. There's room on the sidewalk so there's no reason except for the fact that I'm standing up against the lawn and her bag is up on it, so I turn again figuring she just wanted to place her stuff on something a half a foot higher than the sidewalk. Whatever.

  After a couple more seconds of idly watching traffic, I suddenly see her hand raised beside me. I turn and she's pointing to the Mitzvah Bus, her other black glove dangling. I pull out a headphone to hear what she's saying.

  "They don't know nothing about Jesus," she states matter of factly. The phone is still at her ear.

  I shrug, "Well, they're Jews," and I turn back to the street ready to ignore her.

  "Yes, but they know nothing about Jesus and all they believe in is money and penis envy..." she continues more but I've fully drowned her out by now.

  "Well, that's just not a very nice thing to say," I retort reproachfully. The light has changed, the taxis have slowed to a stop, I begin walking across the street again, Mexican horns blaring in both ears again. I continue to walk. She's waddling behind me, still carrying on, looking foolish. I roll my eyes and make my way to Lexington.

* Before hitting Lexington, there's a construction site, scaffolding serving as pedestrian archways. There's a gap in the plastic sheeting, it reveals a large hole in the building they are demolitioning. A man in a red windbreaker, youthful but with grey hair and grey beard, like a friendly English teacher, stands at the hole with hands in his pants pockets watching the work before him. I stop too fascinated. It's like an open chasm. No roof, light is streaming in. The large brick building once about 6 floors now reduced to 3 floors of carefully contained rubble and girders. A construction guy in bundled Carthardt gear standing a storey and a half up on top of rubble trying to light a welding torch. Behind him a digging machine. The man looks at me when he discovers a companion. I smile. He smiles. And we continue looking at the sight. I make a gasping noise.

  "I used to go here," I start. He looks at me with a slight smile and open eyes. "When this was a YWCA many years ago."

  "This must be very strange for you to see this then. You used to be up on those floors, now gone..."

  I grin sideways and shrug, "Yes it is, a little." And I look up to the open air past the exposed girders. Summer Day Camp. I was, what?, 8 maybe 10? The pool was up there and I would try the back flips. On the lobby floor was the auditorium with a stage. We performed to Prince around the time of Purple Rain so when we danced to "Let's Go Crazy" and did that one part when we simulated sex complete with the "Sss AHH!" sounds, the adults clutched at their chests. Our teacher was always so annoyed at how when we had to change for PE in the same locker room as the regular YWCA members the grown women would walk around naked. I used to go there as a child and now it was being torn down...

  "New York, it is always changing, never stays the same," I say as I continue walking east, waving goodbye.

* The transaction at the bank went smoothly enough. Amazingly no lines. As I was walking out the door, a woman asks loudly to the room, "Excuse me, did anyone leave this here?" I turn and she's by one of the tables we use to fill out the deposit/withdrawal slips. Her hand slowly goes up like she's uncertain of the outcome and you can clearly see some checks of different colors and large denomination bills... cash. I mutter a surprised Oh Dear LORD and the woman sitting not far from me on the phone is looking at her with wide eyes and gives a startled chuckle. Then a man who was on line with an extremely pale face now utters, "Oh my goodness. That's mine." And there's a collective exhalation of air and some more chuckles. The man thanks her but has that look on his face that he dodged a bullet and is amazed that he's still alive. We all smile at him and each other. I'm still chuckling as I go out the door.

* I cross Lexington again. I pass the hole in the demo'ed building. There are three men inside drilling and welding and what have you. The man in the red jacket is no longer there. I look to the right and I see two construction men over a BBQ grill with ribs and steaks piled high. A table full of food for the guys. The guy manning the grill is wearing a red Santa hat. The other guy overseeing. I smile. Crossing Park I pass the Mitzvah Bus again. I see two Hassidim and a young boy with them passing out pamphlets, their music blaring from the motor home. I trot across but I still get caught at the bisecting sidewalk and I wait again for the traffic light to change.

Poor Ziggy...

Basically, when I get up the fiiiiive looooong fliiights to my apartment, I'm in, dammit. That's the standard rule of all parentals with able-bodied minions children. When we're "up the stairs", *they* have to do the running around. Store run. Laundry. Get the pizza from the Pizza Guy who won't even go up the stairs even for money. Good life, no? I mean for us...

After yet another board meeting for the co-op, the VP, Tonya, calls immediately highly apologetic that she forgot to give me the personal document at the meeting she wanted me to scan. Barely audibly, i could hear her sigh. I could barely hear her because I was definitely sighing. I was finally up the stairs after one of those infernal meetings after dodging raindrops in the cold. And so it goes with parentals: as I was about to offer to have Ziggy run around the corner to her apartment to get it, she cuts me off and offers up her 17-year old daughter...

"Can Ziggy meet her downstairs and get it from her?" Um... Okay.

I hollar Ziggy's name, much to his well-practised shagrin, and tell him to put on something and run downstairs. He sighs deeply. Go to the store. Pick me up this. He's used to this all. Minon, my minion.

After a couple of minutes, i hear the door open and he's empty-handed. I look at him in question and about to fuss at him.

"What's wrong? Why didn't you get the thing?"

"It's raining downstairs," he starts, while rubbing the water from his head. I figure he didn't want to get wet or something.

"Well, wait inside at the door until she comes! She should be down there right now."

"I didn't know where she's coming from. It's raining and I should run over to her apartment and get it. I don't want her out there in the rain..."

Friends, I stopped. Mouth agape. I looked at my boy in shock. My face falls into a semi-proud pout.

I have a Fourteen Year Old Boy... and he just did a "gentleman" move.

He took my phone from me and then ran down the stairs while calling up the girl's mother to try to change the arrangements. I later hugged him after the scanning thing happened and aww'ed while singing a couple of bars of Sunrise, Sunset.

OMG...

This has been a Very Special Episode of the "I Have a Fourteen Year Old Boy" Monologues. Where The J Dot R has to go up on her tippy toes to give her baby boy a proper bear hug. Stay tuned for the next installment where he'll probably throw her off by doing something crazy assed like spending the grocery money on comicbooks... again. Until then, remember: Kids may be a huge expenditure, but they're also tax deductions. Profit!

But first, an aside...

10:10 AM Leah: So, I think I want to throw a cocktail party at my house on the 13th or the 20th. I think the 20th would be best

 me: I agree on the 20th

10:11 AM the 13th is carinda's bday and we still don't know what she's doing

  this is going on the calendar now

  excellent

 Leah: I think I might do a "save the date" thing

 me: yes you certainly should

10:12 AM Leah: and [redacted] leaves on the 22nd, so it all works out.

 me: you know, ever since you and denise made me start keeping a calendar, it's been really handy to have one

 Leah: yay apartment/bon voyage [redacted]!

  I am a total mess without my calendar

 me: i mean holy shit the way things just fit together

  it's a god send really

10:13 AM Leah: I used to be a forgetting/double-booking heifer before I started being religious about it

 me: i make no decisions without looking at the calendar

10:14 AM and it's all in gmail so i can't make a date really without being in front of a computer

  that's how i got caught out there with connie's cocktail party and the [second redacted] date

  cause she had mentioned it and he actually emailed me

  so he was on the calendar and she wasn't

  she threw off the protocols, yo

10:15 AM Leah: lol

  that's why I heart my PDA

 me: i would do a pda if it synched with my gmail calendar

  i would do an iphone if i understood the calendar function on the mac

 Leah: you know what I do?

10:16 AM me: not that old school writing thing

  that's so 20th century

 Leah: I don't use the gmail calendar, but I put it in my work calendar and email it to myself at home (which goes to the PDA) or vice versa

  so I invite my home email

  or work email depending on where I am

 me: you just confused me

 Leah: lol, okay

 me: too many steps

  lol

 Leah: you know how you can invite folks to an event?

 me: oh yeah, i've done that once or twice

 Leah: like, if I'm having a party, I send you an invitation

10:17 AM Before I would only put it in my personal calendar/PDA and forget about it when I didn't see it on my work calendar

10:18 AM so I started making sure I invited the other calendar so it was in both places.

 me: this is why you're organizing the pre-zombie exodus from NYC

10:20 AM Leah: lol I'm so anal it's sad

So what have we learned here? That ever since I've been getting organized, I've been fitting in appointments into my calendar all nice and snug-like like Tetris.

Also we learn that it still continues... that no matter the conversation, I will always find a way to direct it to Zombies. In fact, just this morning on the train, there was a very hip, stylish young lady standing and reading the Zombie Survival Handbook. I wanted to gain her attention and give her a secret nod or subversive wink. Like a secret society of those who knows something the masses don't, we're out there. Those who are remain vigilant in their awareness of the danger, and who are silently preparing for the day when- Oh forget it. I'll survive the Battle of Yonkers, y'all won't. Think of me like the Sarah Conner of a Post-Z world. Ha-ha Joanna's all crazy and then a grey-skinned Zack is trying to munch on your wig piece and all the sudden it's all SAVE ME, JOANNA! SAVE ME! Feh.

But I digress.

So back to my calendar, I've been keeping myself really busy lately. At first it was intentional - meaning the summer was underway and far too much in the City to stay inside. But as it goes, you meet people, reconnect with people, and inexplicably everyone has birthdays and such in the Fall so that they're piling up on you. Oi! Just this Saturday alone there's my 50-year old Niece, a new friend and a good friend all celebrating... not to mention the impending festivities the night before.

This is all good because I will never be short of stories (although lately I haven't been sharing, have I? Hmm, must reverse this.) but it hits on the wallet and lately I haven't been keeping up physically like I used to. Why? Oh, a number of things. I've been cutting down to almost cold turkey on the cigarette usage. Granted,  have my enablers... and the physical effects of the chemical withdrawals is quite amazing. My friend Andrew says that weaning yourself off of nicotine is far more difficult than drugs like heroin and such. Nicotine is a far more addictive substance. I believe him cause apart from the massive waves of fatigue then the need for munchies, my mood swings have been spectacular. Yes, I sound like quite the winner, eh? And then on top of this, I've been changing my eating habits to go along with Project Pink Lungs which includes a lot of yogurt, vegetables and such. Needless to say, I believe my body has been rejecting all of this healthy stuff, going into shock and such from all of this...

Dammit, I'm digressing again!

What's funny is that with all the "out" i've been doing, the best times I've had is when I'm at home lately. In fact, Ziggy mentioned with a smile after closing the door to another guest, "It's been a good week!" My mom has been visiting the house more often since she misses us and because of our respective schedules (including Ziggy's) we haven't been able to be downtown like we used to. And then I've been babysitting my 3-yr-old goddaughter, Kyla, more often lately which is always good. It's good to be around babies and kids because I like kids more than I do grownups. Kids like to have fun and have little to no shame in that. Adults tend to try to fight those tendencies. Also, I like looking at the world through a baby's eyes. They have the oddest imaginations and I love playing off of them. They also like dancing on the sidewalk while waiting for the light to turn. That's one of my favorite things to do. Adults look at you funny if you do that. I get funny looks a lot.

Anyways, kids are awesome... especially since I can enjoy them and then send them the heck home. I refuse to let my ovaries burn, and they probably will never burn again. See the thing is, people tend to talk frequently about wanting to have children badly. That itch only happens when I'm around a newborn or something because newborns are hardwired to trap people into loving them. No, seriously. I mean, in general, babies are extremely boring. They lie there, they spit up, crap and basically don't do much but writhe and scream for things. But people love them! Why? Because they have that smell and on the cuteness level, they're at the top of the pyramid above kittens and baby pandas. We're lulled into a sense of OMGZ ZO KWOOT that next thing you know you have your nose all in their neck sucking up that smell like it's the last bit of oxygen on Earth. Resist this, people. They do these little mind-control things just to make sure that there will be more of them in the future. I've been watching a toddler/pre-schooler. Soon you'll see that these little virtual cabbage patch kids will soon gain the ability to speak and then it's all out the window from there.

Oh! And Babies are like Tribbles! Tribbles! Just talking with Leah yesterday, it seems that there are tons of people around her who have just discovered they're...

Leah: Joanna

  JOANNA

 me: uh oh

 Leah: my other best friend from college is pregnant.

  this heifer

 me: wow

 Leah: sent me an email that said "how are you"

  and at the end, there was an attachment of an ultra sound photo

3:59 PM mind you, I've been feeling nauseated all day

 me: so should i buy the gallon of ice cream and show up at your house or something?

 Leah: EMPATHY

  what the hell?!

 me: cause evidently all of your friends, including the universe, hates you

 Leah: exactly

  what the eff?!

 me: so i lied...

  i'm PRETTY late

 Leah: I was telling Katherine that I was feeling sick and she asked if I was pregant and WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOUTALKINGABOUT

4:00 PM me: lol

  joking joking

  lololol

  are you at least smiling a little bit?

  aw

  i'm sorry!

  i was just playing!

 Leah: i am going to KEEL YOU UNTIL YOU DIE

 me: lolol

I think I'm like the one holdout. The last person on the block with rotary dial. The dude who just now discovered cable. A couple of years ago I was wondering WTF?! with everyone getting all married and such. Now it's the babies thing. In a couple of years it will be who is getting divorced and such. Trust me. Everyone's in such a rush to do things by a certain time. I find many people are just settling. Looking at their clock, figuring it's time to settle down and then finding someone who is 1) the least objectionable and 2) who's down, and then they get married. Oi. I can't live my life like that. I need the passion and the ache. The partner in crime, conspiratorial feeling. Basically like a best friend with a penis kind of thing. Anything less just isn't worth it. But that's me. I'm in no rush. Granted, having a son at 18 kind of stunts certain areas of growth and accelerates the rest, but I like the person I've grown into. Yes, yes... neurotic, flighty, stubborn, impetuous, ridiculous being that I am. I'm pretty cool with her. And my waffle skills have improved greatly.

Did it again!

So I think looking forward I'm just going to limit my outside activities to dates with close friends like drink get togethers and brunches and then just the various birthdays that will be coming. After I follow through on a couple prior commitments with the various gentlemen who have been vying for my attention, I'm just going to keep it simple of quiet. With the guys, since recently I've been on the other end of such a thing, I'm just going to sit down with them in person and let them know that I'm not interested in them romantically and not really in any headspace for a relationship. No confusions; no stringing of anyone along. No false hope. That's the right and honest thing to do and those who know me knows I respect an honest person above anything. I like my little life and I don't want to feel any pressure to fold anyone into it right now.

I've been planning on having a house party soon. Just nailing down a date. I guess it's going to be Halloween again. Guess that will be my tradition. I think I'll do it the weekend after with costume optional or something. Still working that out.

So this long assed, rambling post just to say that Things have been busy lately and I'm trying to slow it down some, but only by a little bit. I look forward to tooling about the house more, redecorating, adding more plants, teaching myself more recipes. I'm going to go to the gym more, watch more movies. I have movies from netflix i haven't returned in months. I'm such a dumb ass.

I've been keeping myself busy to keep myself feeling together. I've been distracted a lot lately and I'm getting over it. Moving on, so to speak. Going to get my groove back in Costa Rica soon. It's been a good year. A lot of traveling. A lot of good things have happened. I can't complain, really. It seems I've cultivated quite a happy little life here. Surrounded by some really good people. And I can't wait to block off more time with them, piece by piece, moment by moment. :)

(wow, longest disjointed ramble ever. dag)

Welcome to another installment of the "I Have a Fourteen Year Old Boy" Monologues where That-Heffa-Jo, aka The Notorious M.O.M.s of the B.O.Y., stumbles through the insane world of the next generation of future LJ'er she has evidently wrought upon this world...

Zigs and I went to meet Leah at the Prospect Park Bandshell to watch the SGI-USA Youth Peace Festival which was extremely adorable. Between speeches and skits discussing Buddhism and World Peace, there were musical acts and dance performances including a Malaysian Kite Dance and Hip Hop. Some of the skit players were from Japan and had very pronounced accents since it was obvious they were just learning English. The dance performers were from the New York group of budding Buddhists of all nationalities. A very diverse group indeed, and Ziggy was vibing off of the message of young people able to enact political change and striving for world peace.

Meanwhile, one particular performance involved about two dozen girls in white camo gear dancing to Latin music.

Once the hips and boobies started gyrating, I hear a barely hushed WHOA beside me.

"Yeah..." I started, rather in shock myself. "This is getting a little sexy." The girls' ages ranged from 12 to maybe 19 or so.

"Yeah," he continued. "It's all sexy for 'Peace'." I chuckled at him. "Cause 'Peace' is sexy."

"Yes, Ziggy," I rolled my eyes at him. "'Sexy Peace'. Something we can all strive for..." We let this joke go on for a while, to Leah's pleasure later after the rally.

Cut to yesterday as my eyes hit Ziggy's latest IM status message: "help fight for sexy peace, sexy broken english peace. wouldnt that pwn?"

OMG...

This has been "I Have A Fourteen Year Old Boy" Monologues. Remember: Drink Responsibly and ALWAYS Use Condoms. Or else you will birth someone whose activism platform is "Fight for Sexy Peace".

Welcome to the "I Have a Fourteen Year Old Boy" Monologues where we navigate, along with The Notorious J-Dot, the bewildering and frightful adventures of a mother suddenly realizing she has an almost grown boy living amongst her.

Ziggy's IM status message: "the porn... it glows!"

This has been the latest episode of The "I Have a Fourteen Year Old Boy" Monologues. Stay tuned for the next installment. In the meantime... Condoms. Use them.