Midget Michael Jackson Man...

You know that midget Michael Jackson impersonator in the subways in NYC? Well I witnessed him stretching his tiny limbs this morning. I watched him whip those wee little arms around and back and forth like a small sparrow fallen out of the nest, desperately continuing to try to fly though his feet remain firmly on the ground. He was facing the dark smelly corner of the subway tunnel, warming up his mini ligaments and tendons for a Saturday of girations to "Billie Jean" as people stop to gawk. Is it sad that I found this early morning warmup preparation ritual far more entertaining? I will never get that video clip out of my mind.

Gratuitously Rotten Smelly Homeless Man

This morning I hopped into the brisk air on the subway platform and was met with a train pretty quick, only to rip open my fresh hot egg sandwich and enter a car on the train that just happened to be filled with the stench of Gratuitously Rotten Smelly Homeless Man. There was no one in this car. The looks on my face as well as the few others who had filtered on with me told me I wasn't the only one to smell it. At the far end of the car lay the rotten thing...with all his belongings. Was he dead? How long had his carcass been allowed to ride on this train? Why hadn't anyone cleaned him out of there at the last stop (being that it is the end of the line, where they clean the cars!)? I saw him stir, so the smell couldn't be explained by death. We all looked at eachother in horror, our noses scrunched up as we tried to inhale as little as possible. A few people passed through to the next car. I looked in, but realized that-at this hour of the morning, were I to move, I would lose my seat...which is a coveted position during the morning rush hour...even moreso when you are about to stand outside for the next 10 hours working a promotion. So I stayed there...still eating my egg sandwich...because, well...I had to eat. As others filtered in, no one sat from half way through the car towards him. Many switched cars the first chance they got. I remained. Every once in while, as my nose started to get used to the smell...I feared the idea that I could ever get used to something so awful...would I smell like that all day? Just as I would worry about getting used to it, another wiff would waft all the way down to my end. What the hell could cause that? Was he covered in open sores and lying in his own soiled pants? How long would he be permitted to stay there? I have no doubt his smell would linger LONG after he had been shood out...and some innocent new rider would sit right where his poopy/bloody/corpse-like body had layed all day. I don't know if I was being insensitive to the plight of this unfortunate soul...whose aroma stayed with me and taunted me throughout the day. Was it really nearby, or was it just that strong that my mind couldn't help but have flashbacks? I don't know...there are a lot of homeless people here that sleep on subways...and they don't all smell like that.

Melting Asian Snow Woman

Here she is folks...this is our creation from yesterday...her yellow yarn hair (which we had used to hoist pasta pots of snow up to the balcony to make her) blew away....and her fig newton asian eyes are drooping, her fig mouth melted off (she likes to bask in the the sun)....but we still love her!

Huge Snow "man-part"

Today has been a good day. I got to sleep in, with my sweetie...but I didn't sleep all damn day...

My roommates and I all bundled up to go outside and play in the snow!!! It was a little rougher than I am used to (I am such a girly girl...aka..."wuss"). We built a snowman on our front balcony...by hoisting up additional snow in a huge pasta pot with yarn...then, eventually we did the same thing from the roof to the balcony. I must admit, it was a little daunting and I totally felt like giving up when our snowman looked a bit like a pointy mountain blob...and I was cold and cranky....but somehow things started to take shape. Then we got out the "tools". Very quickly we began sculpting him into the unfortunate shape of a penis...TOTALLY unintentionally....but couldn't help cracking up wondering how many people looked out their windows seeing two chicks molding a huge snow "man-part" on their balcony. We were mortified when someone walked by and gave us a thumbs-up, we aren't sure if he could see the obvious dirtiness or not. Well...eventually we got ourselves a good lookin' snowman...complete with fig newton eyes, a carrot nose, and pink wafer buttons....

We took a trip to Dunkin Donuts to get Dunkaccinos...mmmm...

I took a longass hot shower...

....and now Kira is making grilled cheeze and tomato soup....

MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM!!!!!!!

Those "Brokeback Mountain Types"...

I am working with a very sweet person who stunned me twice already, all within our first two days of work.

First was as we were sitting in a deli training for our day and eating breakfast, as "When the Doves Cry" came on. A few of us were singing along, enjoying the selections being played on the radio. Upon the mention of Prince's name (his former, now current again), he explained that he hadn't always known that Prince had made that song originally. He knew it only from the Romeo and Juliet soundtrack (an amazing one, by-the-way), and for the longest time thought Prince had just covered that version of it. Okay, so this is a clear indication of his 19 year old youth, right? I'm still skeptical on that one. We all remained stunned that he had somehow been so misled.

Next was today when, upon seeing several men dressed in very tailored and fashionably accessorized funky outfits ( I am sure someone thought they were dressed exceptionally well), he went on a rant about how much he didn't like what they were wearing and saying they looked too girly. Now they were far from dressed in drag and just happened to be very well-dressed fashionistas of some sort. Perhaps they were trying a tad too hard, but COME ON...we are working in front of Fashion Week! Anyway, he launches into his insults with a "Now, I have nothing against those 'Brokeback Mountain Types' BUT..."

Weee!!! Gay people have another derogatory term to mock and label them at the same time! Such a relief! Thank God Ang Lee made this movie because the other names are SO last millenea!

I finally got to see "Brokeback Mountain" last week. My experience of it wasn't nearly what I had expected it would be, but that probably has something to do with how long it took me to see it. I kept hearing everyone else's intense reactions to it all the time, and it just didn't make me emote the way I definitely did when I saw the trailor for it WELL before everyone was talking about it. Regardless of the fact that I didn't weep like an infant at the love story and the tragedy of it's complications, I am, none-the-less, effected. ..>

I am effected in the same way I was after seeing "Far From Heaven" (a BEAUTIFUL movie), a few years back. I always feel so excited when movies like this are made, because I feel like they are going to do SO much for the ignorance and resulting struggles surrounding the lives of human beings that are gay. It invigorates me for a while, perhaps before I see the film, perhaps even while I am watching it. I wrap myself up in the story and how it effects me. My heart leaps with gratitude that someone is showing these stories that are far from new in history of the universe, and I am so proud of the "big hollywood stars" that agreed to do it. I feel like times are changing and have GOT to be getting better!!

Then I wake up. My heart sinks a few feet again as I remember that, even though those stories are set in a time that has past, SO very much remains the same.

Of course times are changing. Just the simple fact that someone produced the film is proof of that. We have come so far and yet we are still stuck very much in that past, which wasn't that long ago. I think I just am so much more immersed in the nore understanding and logical world I have created with those I care about the most, that I forget that, sadly, that world doesn't extend very far, even in NYC! Just when I think it is getting bigger I am instantly reminded just how severely I have overestimated it's scope. And it ALWAYS surprises me.

There are times when I think I will live long enough to see the time when we all really are informed and intelligent enough to talk about these times in history classes and just shake our heads in disbelief at how ignorant we were. Then there are times when I feel as though I will always just be one of the few in the constant state of bewilderment until the day I die. I am confident, however, that the day will come when we will wake up from the nightmare we continue to perpetuate. Hopefully this will happen without creating a new one! ..>

I say "we", because I often speak in more personal terms that separate my beliefs from those that happen to still be less accepting. I am not sure, but perhaps that is somehow why we remain moving at such a slow pace. If we can figure out how to remember to think of ourselves more as "one" then as freakily different individuals, it might be more possible to understand someone else's feelings a little better since, deep down, we are all exactly the same. Those that remain stuck in the past are also just like me, they just happen to be terrified of it. Why are they terrified? Because they don't understand it and don't think it is around them all the time. This is why I am still very grateful for these movies, because SLOWLY but surely more and more people will, at some point, be less afraid.

Drunkard on a train

I ADORE living in NYC, but there are some moments it can SUCK SUCK SUCK...riding trains home after midnight, drunk, is definitely at the top of the list. Unfortunately I can never afford cabs. It has been a while since I experienced something like this here, though I am no stranger to it.

Right, so I went to an awesome party last night and evidently drank a bit too much wine. While I was there, I knew I was having fun, but at no point did I think I'd had too much. It wasn't until my incredibly retarded journey home that I realized I might not be right, and I definitely shouldn't have been attempting the trip home alone, by subway, at this very late hour. I wobbled my way to the subway station, and automatically went down to wait a very long time for the train. I put some song on my ipod, I don't think I chose an entire playlist, as I was going to pick something else once I got on the train. I remember the train pulling in, and me getting on. The next thing I know, I wake up and we are stopping at the Whitehall Street station. Being that I live in Queens, this is definitely not where I should be. As the train was pulling in, I realized nothing was playing in my lil' ear buds, and took them out to put them away. As I hobbled out of the train to go on the other side of the tracks to head the RIGHT direction, I tried desperately to remember what one song I had listened to before passing the fuck out on the train. I still can't remember. So I am standing on the uptown side finally, waiting. I understand the dreaded agony of the late-night wait. I mustered up as much patience as I could find, and refused to put my ipod back on. I knew it could help the agony of the wait, but I wasn't too in the mood to listen to anything, since I was angry at myself for not noticing which direction I was heading before...and I didn't think I was in any condition to be leisurely enjoying my ipod on a subway. I don't know how long I waited there. A homeless man was taking up one of the benches, and the only other people in the station, who had gotten off the train I did, were sitting on the other one. I could have sat with them, but for some reason I just didn't want to. So I remain in between the two benches, propped against a pole. After a while had passed, something made me feel like pacing, and I paced near some signs that had service changes on them. My drunken head eventually processed some very important information. There are no uptown trains from that station over the weekends at that time. I reread this numerous times until I understood it properly. What the fuck? Why can we walk down there to wait for the trains, if none will ever arrive? Where's the fucking tape stopping us from walking down there? Where are the signs or announcements? I realize I only paid $2 to go the wrong direction home tonight, but I just don't understand why they are alright with customers waiting stupidly on the platform at 2am-ish with no idea that they will never get home that way. Seriously. So I climb the stairs and ask the station attendants. I ask how to get home. They tell me to go upstairs and get the 1 shuttle to 42nd street, or the 4 or 6. They don't tell me how. I find myself near the Staten Island Ferry...in the windy fucking cold, and there is nothing to point me in the right direction. The only thing I can see is that the 1 train is in the station the Staten Island Ferry comes to. So I head over there. The doorway to get to the 1 train is gated. I begin to cry. I ask the man working there, who says to go outside to get the shuttle. "Where???" I ask. He mumbles some streets as I walk out weeping. I just wanna go home. I walk to the streets he mentions. There is absolutely NO indication that I am where I ought to be. I have to walk back down into the original station I came out of. Still weeping, I return to the lady asking "WHERE do I go?!?!?!" One of them does come out of the booth to walk me up the stairs and point me in the direction of the 4/6 train several blocks up the street. He is still talking about some shuttle, which I still can't fucking find. I weep all the way up the street, knowing that I need to pay another 2 fucking dollars once I get there, and knowing after that long-ass wait, I will have to get off at 59th to wait AGAIN for MY train. I just wanna go home!!!! I need not mention once again my state of weeping as I waited FOREVER at that station. Then a 1 train comes, where the 4/6 should be...and I get on, never fully knowing if it is running on the 1 line, or the 4/6 line...I just remain confused and hoping to GET HOME. I remained painfully conscious on this train, thankfully, until I arrived to 59th street. I angrily made the transfer there to the platform to my n/w train. I sat down and waited. It was FREEZING in there. I shivered like a junkie in withdrawal. I kid you not. I was in hell. I just wanted to go home!!!! I wept a bit here as well, as I did throughout various other moments of the trip. I was pissed off at myself for being stupid, at the MTA for not providing info and charging me more money to get home with all their changes, and mainly I was weeping for the week I had. I just worked a few days at a new job for people who don't know what they are doing, with several hard-working people, without any idea when or if we will get any money at a restaurant that shouldn't be open yet. I hate being taken advantage of when I give people the benefit of doubt. I do feel like that wait was at least 30 minutes if not more. Finally, an N. I am comforted, knowing I am finally heading where I need to be. ..
The next thing I remember, I awake sitting in a freezing train in a station. At first I thought we had just made a stop and the doors would shut and we'd be on our way again...I could see where I am, and know how many stops were left. But we just sit there. The cold wind floods into the car, and my junkie shakes return. I peak further out of the train and see that I am now sitting at the end of the line in Astoria, at Ditmars. Only one stop past where I live, but still. I slept through my motherfuckin' stop!!!! What the HELL is wrong with me? I had NO idea I was this inebriated, but yes, I was. Now, when you are at the last station of the subway line, the trains hang out there for a while. I don't know what they are doing with them, but they take a long while to move again, especially at this hour. So here I am, waiting once more...in the fucking cold...getting angrier at myself that I got that intoxicated before riding the subways home. Yay me. I stay freezing and pissed off conscious...finally we start to move again....finally my stop...I run home, it's that cold out. I don't run, but I ran last night. Finally I am home.

Slap o' the holidays

It is the first day of 2006 and I woke up around 3:30pm. I am 28 years old, and I still thoroughly enjoy having days where I can do just that. So, the big holidays are done, and so is another year. Where the hell did it go? I know I'm not alone in the shock of how quickly time seems to pass from year to year. I may be one of the few people that just couldn't accept it this year though. I don't know exactly why. Was 2005 so great that I just don't want it to end? That can't be right. All I know is that, as Thanksgiving quickly approached, I couldn't comprehend how it could possibly be time. I knew it was coming whether I was ready or not. I knew that as soon as I woke up from that turkey coma, it would suddenly be time for a Christmas tree and presents and figgy pudding. (Okay, strike the figgy pudding. I have never encountered figgy pudding, and I don't know that I ever will.) I knew that, even as the final notes of every Christmas carol were still blaring in the stores, suddenly New Year's eve would be here and I would be required to welcome the festivities with open arms in celebration. I knew all of this, but somehow I just couldn't enjoy it all. From the moment the quickness of these holidays slapped me in the face, my head lay drooped to the side where it landed after the blow. My eyes glazed over and drool may have slipped from my lips. Inside, my mind lay marinating in denial, exactly where it wanted so deperately to be for some reason. "It isn't TIME for this, an entire year can't possibly have passed!" "I guess I ought to get a Christmas tree, but not YET!" Even as my mind refused to believe time was passing, the parts of my soul that always enjoy the holidays attempted feebly to enjoy itself. My inner child would scream out at moments, singing along to Christmas carols as I visited stores, but was abruptly silenced when the reality of having absolutely no money to buy anything for anyone set in. Somehow the days shot past and we never got a tree for the apartment. I never even got out my christmas cds for their annual enjoyment. Things just weren't right. ..>

My body ached from days working in the bitter cold streets of NYC via random miscellaneous jobs all month. I dragged my aching muscles home to Pittsburgh for the holidays, aboard a luxurious greyhound bus. As my stubborn mind continued to resist the holiday spirit, I started wishing I had enjoyed it all more. I even started to look forward to next year at holiday time. I started to think that, even if I didn't feel like it was time yet, I was going to revel in it next year. I would buy a tree as soon as I possibly could. I would hang the Christmas lights that are still in my closet from last year. Whether I had money or not, I would at least send out some Christmas cards. I might even throw a holiday party! I started to get a little giddy thinking how much I would enjoy next Christmas no matter how fast it hit me. Then I realized it was December 22nd. Christmas day had yet to happen! I dunno, it was a very strange moment. It was too late to do all the fun things leading up to the big day, but it wasn't too late to enjoy this one. It was the opposite side of that initial slap o' the holidays, slapping my face back in the other direction to even me out, to shake the contents of my garbled mind back into the moment.

So I suppose I should have some sort of resolution going into this brand new year. I'm not big on resolutions that happen only once a year. I am generally in favor of attempting to make any necessary changes or adjustments all year round, as necessary. Regardless of that, I feel it absolutely vital to make one this year. I can't possibly allow time to get ahead of me this way anymore. I mean, I know it is going to. Somehow it is the nature of time. The longer we're alive, the more memories we have, the more things we hope to accomplish and the less time it feels we have to accomplish them. Every year I'm alive time gets faster than I feel like I can handle. If time went at a speed I was comfortable with, I have a feeling it might never pass at all. We need these holidays, whichever ones you celebrate, to keep us moving, while at the same time allowing us to pause and enjoy some silliness in between. They force us to spend the quality time we need with everyone we love, and help us feel more love for some of the people we'd rather not have so much quality time with. It becomes the best time to let go of whatever the hell we're holding onto from the last year and breathe in the new one, always being reminded to enjoy each present moment because a new one will be here whether we're ready or not!