21 October, 2005


Sometimes, when you are a Bear of Very Little Brain,
and you Think of Things,
you find sometimes
that a Thing which seemed very Thingish inside you
is quite different when it gets out into the open
and has other people looking at it.

18 October, 2005

...Horse number 39 had a slow start at the gate

I apologize for the lack of posting in the past week. I have been virtually eating, sleeping and shitting Visa status anxiety and have not been able to put much thought into anything else. I have a one track mind. But well, the heavens opened up and birthed me a Work Visa!

I received my passport back from Washington, D.C. on Friday via the sorta Fed-Ex guy. Read: I am currently living in the back ass end of the woods up the Pocono Mountains with my parents until I leave for Auckland. The country lanes are so country that overnight express via Fed-Ex takes two days instead of one. And the package is not actually delivered via Fed-Ex. There is a distributor guy with a van that I think got a good deal on a route, kinda like third-party Fed-Ex.

The happy kind of anxiety took over through the weekend. I moved my entire life of material worth, or what is left of it, from the storage unit into Mom and Dad's basement. There it will stay until I come back or make another decision in life. I do worry though about my Mother and her habit of assimilating things that are stored in her house. I.e. my sheets that are neatly stored in bins may end up becoming her sheets because as she likes to say "It should be used". Or it should be stolen, which ever way you look at it. My Mother is an evil troll.

Last minute preparations consist of exchanging some money and picking up alterations from the dry-cleaner, closing one bank account and informing my MasterCard company that if they put one more FUCKING hold on my account because I have been suddenly using the card for New Zealand stuff, I will come through the phone and strangle them. Fraud protection is one thing, but this habit of my MasterCard company has become fucking annoying.

One really good shopping trip and I bought a new pair of really awesome jeans for the plane ride. Since I will be traveling for an entire day I figured I will want to be comfy and look cute at the same time. I also spent WAY to much money on two matching sets of rolly-luggage bags that are HUGE and I should be able to ship that dead body that I was hoping to bring with me with virtual ease.

And my tickets have been rearranged so that I leave next Monday, which is in a week. I am leaving in a week. One week. And the anxiety about the impression that I am going to make on my new roommates and my new co-workers and my new boss is killing me. I have a tendency to speak to much when I am nervous and so I will make sure that I keep that in mind and then keep that in check. Also, I have become acutely aware of the fact that I speak really quickly and have the amazing ability to get 3 or 4 sentences into a conversation without taking a breath.

The other beautiful part. This, ladies and gents, is my last week working for the Big Bank. My last week working in beautiful scenic Brooklyn, New York. And your last chance to put your crack orders in. Once I no longer work in this hell hole you won't be able to get your supply of crack at these seriously discounted prices.

09 October, 2005

The Things I Let My Friends Get Away With

Both of you, licking me, in a bar, from the shoulderblade to the top of my neck and then arguing about who has the better and much more talented tongue.

08 October, 2005

Some Things I Won't Miss

I have lived here most of my life. New York City and Washington, D.C. are the only two cities that I have ever lived in. And no, I do not count the very small southern town in North Carolina where I went to college as a city. There where cows and red-necks, but no city.

So this is my city, New York. D.C. I just borrowed for a while.

There is something about New York that gives it a special vibe. Something unique and all it's own. But the city has also drastically changed over the last 20 years that I have known it. I remember when I was 14 and the city was lit with a funkiness that was an undercurrent and swept you up in it's tow. The electric lights from Times Square always caught you off guard and made you forget about necessities and always allowed for a dreamer to do just that. Downtown had an other worldly ebb, a flow that had no real beginning and no real end. There was so much to stare at and wonder about, especially for an artist; a person who takes great pleasure in people watching. Sitting in a cafe on the street in Soho and watching the walkers go by. I would give them stories and lives and interesting adventures and wonder if that could someday be me.

I don't necessarily know when my idea about living here changed. Perhaps it was a gradual occurrence. Somewhere between one let down, a broken heart, a bad night and an un realized dream. Perhaps it was there all along and my youthful exuberance ignored it.

I have often heard from my father and also from my grandfather's generation about how much Brooklyn changed. I would laugh at these stories and think to myself "How much *could* a neighborhood change?" New neighbor's yes, but radically change. Bosh!

But I understand now. That change is inevitable and not always welcome. New York City has changed and drastically in a very short period of time I may add. It feels tired. And used. The city feels like a bad date. Something that you understand when you roll up from the bars at 4:00 am feeling like something bad crawled into your mouth and set up camp. That nasty over smoker feeling in your hair and on your clothes. The way cheap perfume just hangs on and makes you gag.

Walking down a New York City street at any time of the day makes you wonder if anyone notices you at all. Last night I felt a little undone. I found the constant and endless need to do the weave while I walked through and around and about people exhausting. I wondered if the man who stepped in front of me to light his cigarette even recognized that I had to make a sudden shift not to slam straight into him. I even wonder if he cared.

And perhaps that's the thing. The biggest issue. New York City has a population on any given night of 12 million people. All crammed onto one tiny island. All with their own agendas. All with their own insecurities. Who has time to apologize for elbowing you in the head as you get on a train. Who has time to make room for one more person at the table, when the restaurant only has allotment for four. Who has the ability to keep up with the every day when the work week has become hard and the rent is amazingly high. Everyone I know is tired and disappointed and wondering aloud if the choices that they made where the right ones. All those that I come into contact with seem to be on the same path that I am on; finding new meaning in old dreams and figuring out if they can make them possible.

In a city such as New York suddenly nothing seems possible and everything seems difficult and harsh. Sometimes I find it difficult to breath and extremely overwhelming, perhaps only compounded with the fact that in a city of 12 million people it is so incredibly easy to become isolated and ignored.

07 October, 2005

Holding My Breath

Honestly, I thought that the toughest part would be finding a job overseas and not being able to perform on a face-to-face interview. I was wrong.

I truly believed that once the Managing-Vice-President-Partner dude at the Greatest Software Company That Ever Lived (yes, I am overly enthusiastic at this point, I haven't started the job yet) gave me the nod that all the months of hard work would be done and I could finally relax.

Yeah, I am a schmuck. Pass over the permanent marker will ya. I will write it on my forehead.

The-Visa-Process is a whole new ballgame. Whip out the rally caps boys, cause I have just submitted my paperwork for the second time and (drumroll) I purchased an airline ticket. For $900 dollars. Actually. Bought.

I feel like I made some kind of statement by purchasing the tickets. Sorta like the guy in the yellow robes at the airport. He's a Krishna and he OWNS the gig.

Now all I have to do is wait for the Visa office to deny my Visa because they don't agree with my color choice in nailpolish and then I won't gain entry. And then I will watch my dream flush down the toilet.

Go optimism.