– paying bills.
– breakfast.
– entertaining cats.
– Starbucks for Mocha Frappucino.
– pier to read “Pittsburgh Love Stories” from the gang at the New Yinzer (a buddy edits).
– ferry to S. Hoboken, Newport & finally Midtown (wasn’t my choice – they weren’t running direct, but pleasant anyway).
– bus to 42nd.
– “Supersize Me” @ Empire 25.
– bus thru tunnel to Hoboken.
– walk to pier again, never actually read this time though.
– witnessed a man reeling in a 2.5 foot shark out of the Hudson.
– walk to diner for pick-up (French dip).
– walk home to eat.
– Six Feet Under.

And in the time I was gone, Cali has learned to fetch. I throw a mouse, she chases after it, grabs it, brings it back, drops it on my chest and waits for me to throw it again. She’s really good.

So I’m sitting in this meeting called “Pre-strategy” which is all about preparing for another meeting called – wait for it – “Strategy.” It’s one of the many meetings in which I’m the only male, not that it matters, it’s just an observation. A few minutes earlier I really just wanted to scream at the top of my lungs, not any phrase in particular, just a high-pitched shriek. Instead I’m typing into my handheld like I’m taking an impressive amount of notes. It keeps me from wanting to scream. There are really only a few things I can do during this meeting: 1) scream, 2) start laughing at the girl sitting across from me who is as miserable as I am (occasionally we’ll catch each other’s eye and almost lose it), 3) play solitaire, 4) try to kill myself by digging at my wrists with my ballpoint pen, or 5) write an entry in the guise of taking copious notes. Number five seems like the best option right now, although I’ve been eyeballing my pen rather intensely. Right now at the other end of the table they’re chattering away about something, but I’m not really sure what. Hopefully I won’t get called on.

Okay I just contributed a sentence. It got shot down, which is par for the course. Typically what happens is that I suggest an idea or warn against something, it’s ignored but then in the end (weeks later) I was right. They don’t always ignore it, but enough that it’s what I expect to happen so it no longer bothers me.

Good god, the mindless drivel that makes up this meeting…

At least I get paid.

This morning on my way to the PO Box, I saw one of the AM New York newspaper guys talking to one of the Metro newspaper guys. It was nice to see that the free newspaper foot soldiers can get along. I wonder who’s gonna win this war of the mediocre morning papers? I gotta say, so far I’m an AM New York guy, but only because I’ve gotten it more often. Metro is gonna have increase its circulation to pull me in.

SONG OF THE MOMENT: Death in Vegas – “Flying”

Why is it taking all day to do the promo grid – I ask you why? Ergh. There is so much stuff to do at work these next couple of weeks, but I refuse to stay late. Stop the insanity. Hoochie mama!

My sister and I decided to surprise Mom for Mother’s Day, so we both flew home without telling her, and then showed up on her doorstep, like two little puppies looking for a home. It was fun. We had a really great time.

We also visited with my grandmothers. One of them is 100 – and is still pretty coherent. The other one is a bit younger, but she’s taken a turn in the past few months. She’s become paranoid and delusional. It’s heartbreaking. You wonder where her mind is making this stuff up. She’s convinced that my aunt is using a computer to do all these horrible things to her. She kept asking, “can you believe anyone would be so mean to me?” People are also following her around. She said she wishes she had someone big like me to take care of them for her. I assured her that I’d take the two guys stalking her, throw them over my shoulders like a couple of potato sacks and take ’em to the curb. She seemed to like that. At one moment she’ll be fine, and the next she’s worried about people controlling her with computers.

Back to the promo grid.

Today I took:
– a rental car
– a plane
– a taxi
– a bus
– a subway
– another bus
– a ferry
– another bus
– another bus
– and a lot of walking in between all those.

Okay, after Cookie and Barry I decided to do a little more walking and now have a new favorite place. It’s another pier not far from the one I was just at. There’s not much green here, just some trees growing out of planters, but again, it’s quiet. It’s not that wide but it juts out into the water fairly far. Right now I’m staring at the GWB… The city is gorgeous. There’s a guy fishing with about six rods set up. He’s reeling in something as I’m typing this… What a great night.

PIX OF THE DAY: My new pier.
© 2004 permalance.com

Barry Manilow just walked by with two dogs, a young woman, and a little kid wearing a Batman suit complete with cape and Yankees cap.

This is becoming and odd afternoon.

So right after that last post, I decided to start reading my book. I only had it open for a few minutes when an older African-American woman came up and asked me where those helicopters were coming from – for some reason the sky seemed to be full of them. I pointed out the heliport across the water. She asked if she could join me, and as soon as I said “Sure,” she sat down beside me on the bench. I wasn’t really sure what to make of this, but a couple of hours later she got up and went her own way. In those two hours she talked, and I listened (chiming in occasionally) about her dog (Snowball) that her son had taken from their Jersey City home and had let loose in the streets of Newark, just because. She told me how dogs could sense evil. She wondered if it was okay if she helped her son with his Walk-a-thon (some people had told her that it was wrong to help him raise money). She told me about another dog she had when she was little. She had a crib for her doll babies, but she used to let him sleep in it – she’d even dress him up in her clothes. Later someone in the neighborhood poisoned him. She said she likes to explore, to go places, she’s not content sitting still. As we watched the ferries come and go, she mentioned that she wanted to take her youngest son out on it for a ride. She doesn’t think anyone got out of the World Trade Centers alive. She believes they’ve come a long way with cancer, because when she was little you could see the cancer when people had it, you could see holes in their flesh from where it was eating them alive. At some point in the middle of all these dozen or so stories, I put my book away.

I’m not really sure how to describe those two or so hours… Eventually she decided it was time to go. “I’m Cookie, it was nice talking to you.” I introduced myself and returned the compliment. Then as quickly as she had appeared, she was gone.

When I moved into my new neighborhood last year, which actually was once my old neighborhood about six years ago, I didn’t do much exploring. I really haven’t done much of anything this past year, other than work and then come home and either shutdown or do more work. I guess you could call it a funk. But right now, I’m sitting on a park bench, on the water with a mocha frappuccino, and I’m only five minutes from my apartment. So, I’ve learned that there’s a Starbucks a few blocks away and a decent waterfront promenade just beyond that. I need to explore more. Actually I just need to do anything other than working more.

This place isn’t as nice as the park I had been going to in the past, but it’s a lot more convenient. It’s also quieter, which is fine right now because I’m not really in the people watching mood anyway. For some reason I’ve really been disliking humans lately – I’ll probably write more on that later. There are six people here now, spread out over three blocks, which is the perfect amount. There aren’t any boom boxes blasting, or kids screaming – not that those sounds are always unpleasant or unwanted, but right now the sounds I’m listening to are enough. There’s the little clicking sound a ten-speed bike makes when you’re coasting. The waves are making that lapping sound as the water licks at the pier. Occasionally there’s a car driving past. The sailboats in the marina are making dinging sounds as little boat parts bang against the masts in the breeze. And there are the helicopters. I’m across from Chelsea right now… But what this really means is that I’m at just the point on the Hudson where the helicopters taking off from the midtown heliport swing out to start their approach or liftoff. I don’t mind actually, I love the sound of helicopters but I’m wondering if it drives people away. Yet another reason to love helicopters?

I feel like I can’t get anything done. The weekend has come and gone, and all I’ve really got to show for it is a clean apartment. I don’t know… I just can’t seem to get it together.

I really don’t want to go to work tomorrow. If I stay home, I’ll probably do work… and I’ll most likely get more done here than at work. Random thoughts – yeah, but I can’t sleep, so that’s what you’re getting.

I did write my sister a letter today, so that’s something.

I think I miss California. Weird.

I’m going sleep now. Or at least try.

It’s been a long week so far. I really should write an actual real entry, but I just don’t have the desire nor mental dexterity at the moment to put anything coherent down. I want to finish the road trip stories soon, and spout about my fairly uneventful L.A. trip… but damn I’m tired.

My ch-ch-ch-chia Homer has finally sprouted “hair” but the odd thing is, he has male-pattern baldness… bizarre. Pictures to follow shortly, but again, tired – and the camera is all the way in the other room.

::sigh::

Los Angeles. Conference. Interesting & boring. Sunburn. Ready for home.

PIX OF THE DAY: Santa Monica @ night.
© 2004 permalance.com

It was actually nice weather-wise today, so I stopped by the pier on my way home to sit and people watch. There weren’t many people, so I called a friend and chatted till my phone died. I love sitting there and relaxing.

Of course, it’s supposed to snow tomorrow and Wednesday.

PIX OF THE DAY: Tonight.
© 2004 permalance.com

My newest pet peeve. People who type the body of e-mails in the subject line of e-mails. For example:

to: lance
from: cynthia
subject: that project that you’re working on needs to be done by thursday if at all possible. thanks. cynthia.
body:

What the hell is that? I don’t know about the e-mail client you’re using, but in Outlook, it’s really difficult to read a long subject line. How about this instead.

to: lance
from: cynthia
subject: that project…
body: can you finish that new project by thursday? that would be great.

Ah. Much better.

I thought about sending a company-wide e-mail with the subject line: hey can we please not put the entire message you’re attempting to send in the subject line because it’s really difficult to read and, hey it’s just wrong, or i can just take my pitchfork and hurl it towards your head. what do you think? thanks. lance.

This morning on my ride in, I noticed the guy sitting next to me was intently reading this thick, stapled deck of paper. He was wearing a business suit, so I assumed it was some important document he had to review prior to “the big meeting.”

It was a rule-book for a fantasy baseball league.

I don’t get the fascination with baseball at all, so the concept of fantasy baseball leagues I find completely odd.

But don’t get me wrong. I love America, apple pie & mom. And if anyone is brave enough to strap on body armor and a kevlar helmet and sit on deck waiting for a moronic president and an impotent congress to send them someplace I don’t wanna go… well, I got your back.

But baseball. Eh.

Sometimes I feel so lost – like, “what the hell am I doing here?”

The other day I’m walking back to the office after grabbing some lunch. I’m looking up at the building as I’m getting closer and thinking, “man this building is big.” Then all of a sudden I realized – I’m working in New York, and I have a career. When the hell did this happen?

As it turns out, about seven years ago.

——

I don’t like Sunday nights. Around 10 or 11pm, I always come to the conclusion that I’ve wasted the weekend. I didn’t go out and do anything culturally significant. I didn’t get much personal work done (taxes still await); I didn’t get much freelance work done (so tedious this time around). On the plus side, I didn’t take any day job work home. But still. It’s Sunday and I’m sitting at home watching television, with nothing really to show for it. Blech.

A more positive and interesting post is coming soon. Just doing a little venting right now.

Sigh.

I can’t stand this pharmacy, but on a day when you forget to put on deodorant, it’s nice to have one in the lobby. And this cashier was actually courteous and efficient… no eye-rolling, no throwing the receipt at me. We asked each other how the day was going. It was like a nice, friendly, normal, workday conversation, except she was handing me a little baggie with some Arrid in it.

And a candy bar.

😛

I have stuff to do but I don’t find any of it appealing, so here I sit typing and procrastinating. Blah. I need to make a bunch of hotel reservations, but I don’t feel like messing with it. I need to answer a bunch of work e-mails, but I can’t stand to look at them. I need to do mods to a bunch of web pages, but *blech*.

My Mom is having surgery tomorrow, so I’m a little worried. It’ll be fine though.

Blah.

So I’m writing this entry in my kitchen. I was doing dishes a few minutes ago and realized that I rarely use the kitchen, other than to cook (or what I call cooking) and to do the dishes. I think the kitchen table has seen one, maybe two meals. So I thought, “what the heck” and brought the laptop & the iPod in. I think I like writing here. It’s like a little cafe. I have a small table, just big enough for two. There are some candles burning behind my screen, and I’m looking out at views I don’t normally take in for this long. To my right I can see a bunch of little apartment buildings with parts of Jersey City rising up behind. Over my shoulder and up the hill is The Doric – a rather tall apartment building in Jersey City, or Union City… the city limits kind of blur together here. That’s something that doesn’t happen back home. There are fifteen or twenty miles between towns there… here they just run together with only a block and some shrubs separating them.

Work has been insanely busy lately. It’s good to be busy, but it is getting a little tiring. I had my annual review last week and there was talk of taking on new responsibilities, etc., but the problem that came up is that I don’t have enough time. This week I’m supposed to keep a journal of what I do, so my VeeP and I can talk about where to trim my schedule. Along with that I’m going to try to start getting into work earlier, so I can set up my day before it gets taken over with meetings. We’ll see how goes.

Okay, I’m definitely liking this kitchen thing. There are no distractions, it’s peaceful.

Last week was all work, nothing much else was going on, but the previous couple of weeks, I actually made it out of the house & office a bit. It started by going out with my friend Courtney for drinks. We got nicely sloshed and talked “The Nipple” which was consuming both of our workdays at that point. Post drinks it was Subway sandwiches. The next day it was Spanish cuisine with Todd. We worked together a few years back and now he does some freelance work for me now and then. It’s really good to get together with him and just shoot the breeze. We have a similar sense of humor, and lean the same way politically usually. He’s from a kind of redneck part of the world too, so at some point we always drift into redneck accents and make fun of our beginnings. It was a really good night, filled with sangria, chorizo and belly laughs.

At this point, I can’t remember what else happened that week, which sucks, because I think something else did. I’ll try not to procrastinate on the postings again. Blah.

So the next week, I went with drinks again on a Monday with a friend of a friend. We had met briefly a few months earlier and hit it off and ended up running into each other again so drinks were scheduled. I was an idiot for the first few minutes. I get nervous when meeting new people and end up being all weird with the small talk, but after a little bourbon, I loosened up. We had an odd moment early in the evening when we both realized aloud that we each knew nothing about the other. We ended up having a really good time drinking heavily and trading barbs back and forth. It was interesting. And it made me realize that I don’t meet new people that often. I’ve gotta get back on that.

That Friday I ended up going out for last-minute drinks with a couple of people from work. We tried a new bar across from work. It ended up being expensive, but the drinks were funky and very alcohol-rich. Everything was going swimmingly, until one of the co-workers started spouting off about something she shouldn’t have about work. I just tried to dodge the subject, but the damage was done. It put me in a really awkward place, and I ended up having to say something to my supervisor. I wouldn’t have normally, but what she was telling, directly impacted someone at work in an unfair way. It’s hard to explain without being specific, but I feel better about telling my VeeP, but now I feel awkward around the co-worker. She doesn’t know I’ve said anything, and she might not even remember telling me… but… ugh.

Valentine’s Day… which is normally a day that, quite frankly, sucks, was actually very special this year. I ended up spending it with my best friend in the entire world. We had a wonderful time. It was one of those odd nights where you just really connect with someone on a whole different level… emotional, spiritual, something. We just really connected and had a wonderful night listening to music, talking, laughing… I get all warm and fuzzy just thinking about it. I’m giddy.

I watched the season finale of Sex and the City earlier. I was happy with how it ended, one of the better series finales. I started watching the retrospective that came on before the show, but I haven’t finished it yet. To be honest, it seemed a bit self-serving, and if it’s possible for a show to be conceited, it was.

Okay… now I want a mocha frappucinno, but unfortunately Cafe Lance doesn’t serve that.

Blah.

SONG OF THE MOMENT: Smashing Pumpkins – “Mayonaise”

My best friend’s father died tonight at 9:30pm, and I don’t know what to tell her. There’s nothing I can say to make her feel better. There aren’t words that I can recite to make the emptiness go away. I told her, “if there’s anything you need, I’m here” and her immediate response was, “I need a hug.” I’m only 45 minutes away from her, but I’ve never felt further away from her than I did right then. I hugged a pillow and told her that I was imagining it was her, but is that good enough? What can you do? The easy answer, the one that everyone will tell you is “just be there for her.” But that won’t really fix the damage, you can’t uncrash a car. I’m imagining it’s like a car wreck, but instead of your body being twisted and torn, it’s your soul. How do you repair that?

So tonight, the world is now short one father, one grandfather, one husband & one friend. And my best friend’s soul is being twisted and torn, and I’ll stand with her, and I’ll be there for her because that’s what you do.

But it’s not enough.