Manhattan Offender

25 random things meme from Facebook as old school blog post

1. Number geek is an appropriate label for me. For example when I see the number 25, five squared and the square root of 625 and a 25 degree angle and various equations involving two and five are in my mind.
2. Passive counting of everything and awareness of numbers are not obsessions, but they are practices. For example, in New York City, after a solid white walk sign, the orange "don't walk" light flashes thirteen times during which time the accompanying traffic light will be green. (The flashing turns to a solid "don't walk" at the same time the light changes from green to amber.)
3. Grammar is important to me. Abbreviation for text messages is laziness and leaves too much room for interpretation in a message. The casualness of grammar in children is worrisome and signifies a breakdown of cultural structure.
4. The word "I" as an overused sentence subject denotes weak writing to me.
5. I introduce myself as a writer even though my writing has never provided more than fifteen per cent of my annual income. While an agent has expressed an interest in working with me, we've never gotten to the point of pitching to a publisher mainly because my other work consumes most of my time.
6. My other work involves operations and logistics and profit management for a high-end furniture designer/manufacturer. This work can be emotionally, physically, and mentally draining, but must continue so that my debt can be paid down.
7. My most recent ex ran up $15,000 in debt on one of my credit cards. While this is not a huge amount, it has put a damper on my life. It seems that my freedom from that time is tied to its pay-off.
8. That ex lives downstairs from me. We do not speak at all. Despite the money, there is no reason to revisit him. After six years of being told you're a bad person, it is amazingly freeing when you find that you're actually kind of an okay guy.
9. Another ex was dating someone upstairs from me. We speak regularly, and he was my guest out on Fire Island this past summer. He recently became a U.S. citizen and when he called to tell me the news, I cried tears of joy. He'll always be one of my loves, although things would never work out between us. (Our signs (Virgo and Libra) are incompatible.)
10. Astrology is not something I follow; however it is often spot-on in terms of compatibility. I am a Libra with Scorpio rising sun and moon. Apparently this makes me a flirty sex-monster.
11. I am a flirty sex-monster. You probably know at least ten people with whom I've at least made out. At the same time, this is not what I consider to be a defining characteristic and in fact is counter to my inherent shyness. In ways though my inherent shyness is due to fear of judgment of my flirty sex-monstosity.
12. In the past month, disparaging, judgmental comments have been made regarding me and "that crowd you run with". Those comments are duly noted as more informational regarding those making them than about me. That glazing in my eyes as seen when the comments were made were not indicative of drug use, but were indicative of my being nonplussed as to why such a person would speak to me in the first place.
13. While much of the material in my writing is about my personal life, my privacy is very important to me. Gossip and rumor are the brain chowder of self-starving minds and horrible habits. My own participation in such never fails to self-disappoint.
14. It is this desire for privacy that partially fuels my semi-obsession of not wanting photos taken of me, like, ever.
15. The other partial fuel is that I don't photograph very well or that I don't really know what I look like and am always confused when pictures of me appear. Several years ago I kept excusing myself from getting in the way of this guy that I found to be sort of hunky as we both shuffled back and forth in a doorway. Eventually my eyes met his, I began to speak, and then realized that the doorway was actually a mirror. It was the first time I had ever considered myself "attractive". (The above being said, if you are a photographer and are wanting a subject to shoot, I'd love to do it. I love working with artists in any medium in any way. I find it fascinating.)
16. Like most people I think, I don't consider myself handsome or attractive, but I am aware that my looks could be worse and thankful for not being (more severely) scarred from accident or illness.
17. Mystery and rare illnesses have haunted my entire life. My medical chart has included cat scratch fever and methicillin-resistant staphylococcus aureus. At the same time, none of the things that are supposedly in my genetics are evident (high blood pressure, diabetes, cancer, heart disease).
18. As a teen, I often dreamed about my own funeral. I didn't think I would hit thirty. At thirty, I didn't expect to hit forty. Presently, I don't expect to hit fifty. This is partly why I'm not goal-oriented. I think if I had children, this would change, but I would never have kids to fulfill a personal need.
19. Most people are surprised how natural and comfortable being with kids is for me, but I think I'd be a pretty awful father. Luckily there aren't any eggs flying at my sperm these days, so that isn't a worry. Further, without a significant other it would be highly unlikely that I would pursue fatherhood.
20. A significant other is most likely never going to be in the cards for me which is something with which I am cool. Not that I'm opposed to it, but I can't really even imagine it. Loneliness is not something I often feel and when I do, I call one of my friends.
21. Negating the previous, my friends are my significant others. My close friends and I often say "I love you" to each other and (unless they've completely deceived me) the sentiment is genuine.
22. Someone once said of my writing that I wear my sadness and joy on the same sleeve and with equal exuberance. While it can be a bit much, especially as it flutters between the two at a hummingbird's wing-speed, it is not just my writing; it's my life. I despise anything half-assed, despite considering myself really lazy.
23. Someone once called me an asshole, to which I replied, "Yeah, and?" While we weren't always, we are now good friends. That someone was my mom.
24. Someone once called my writing "tone poetry" which is actually what I consider it. Even for a simple thing like a list of 25 random things about me, I try to keep a narrative thread through the randomness. I am shocked and honored that anyone would even read this.
25. I've read everyone of these random lists that I've come across and am shocked and honored by the folks that tagged me. I'd tag everyone I knew if possible, but will have a 25-second stress-moment while choosing 25 people whom I want to know more about because I want to know more about everyone: the token booth lady with the wig (Brenda), the AM NY paper guy with the twitch (Amir), the dry-cleaning lady (Renee). The artifice of doing this "online" and via "social networking" is efficient, yet depressing. I'd prefer we just get together and talk.

Inauguration (not so) Live Blog, chapter one - Obama bound.

Amtrak 143 is running late, but I am early despite Abdou’s cab sliding through just under two inches of fresh snow on the way to Penn Station.  Looking around the crowd, the others headed for The Moment (as CNN has melodramatically dubbed it) stand out in the waiting area sort with Kool-Aid-imbibing gleams in their eyes (and Obama buttons pinned to their luggage and jackets and toddlers).  Feeling a bit out of place, I start to question myself:  How is it that I am going to Washington?

The conversations started right after the election, but intensified around Thanksgiving.  Different ideas were floated involving RV rentals, hotels, and abandoned ancestral residences.  As Thanksgiving drifted into “holiday”, it seemed most of those plans were fueled by liquids, clouds, and powder, leaving behind mere inklings. 

Despite the “core” friends abandonment, the inkling urged that some feelers be put out.  Emails to adored, yet less core, friends go out.  A couple, brilliant and sweet and very young, recently relocated from The City to The Hill, accept a request for housing.  (I insist to them that if friends more core than I request, I will demure.)  Vacation time is allotted, despite a mountain of work for the year’s beginning.  As things become more solid, the train tickets are purchased weeks beforehand.  (The lack of available tickets so early shows that, yes, other moths are also being drawn to this flame.)

Suddenly, it starts to become real at least virtually.  The messages start coming first in the social “networking” sites.  “RA is excited about DC.”  After posting my own contribution (“Rod looks forward to hanging out with all the New Yorkers in D.C.”), the texts and emails started to rise, along with my excitement.

Many have already arrived, as there is a leather dress-up tea party of some sort co-existing with the pre-inaugural shenanigans.  The annoyances of “traveling alone” are assuaged as it seems that going out in D.C. is going to be pretty much like going out in New York, just with a few more tourists about.  Oh, and the taxis have a weird pay structure.

As the train pulls out of Philly the texts starting coming in requesting arrival details. 

End Chapter One.

Status

Rod just woke up from a dream. He was sitting in a home being constructed for Bill and Hillary Clinton.  We sat on the porch and these large vivid birds soared through the air, like what you would find in a Chinese watercolor.  I turned to them and said, "When I'm old and have dementia, I want to see things like this every day."  Bill laughed while Hillary nodded her head.

Status

Rod has realized that his friend E is Chack Bass, his friend A is Blair, and he is Serena.

The Obama Inaugural Orgy will be the orgiest Inaugural Orgy since Chester Arthur and you can still go if you are orgiastically orgious!

So, yes, this time next week finds me in Washington D.C.  Arriving Sunday for the Obama Inaugural Preparty, or M.A.L. for short, my next step will be, um, well, no clue.  Other than making arrangements for housing (with genius lads D and J) there just hasn't been time to look at calendars or reach out to people or any of that.  Oh, wait, the train tickets were purchased, business class because, well, it's still the Bush period of American history and we must relish our class distinctions one last time before the wealth is redistributed.  Worry not though if you're even less organized, because you can still make it to DC if you don't mind whoring yourself out. 

Related:  All Americans Must Attend Obama's Inauguration - Political Machine.

One of my little secrets is that I don't actually write about some things as they are sacrosanct. One of those places is Holiday. One of those people is Stephan. And they may be in dire straights.

Lost City: Dive Takes a Holiday.

No, CNN, this is neither "developing" nor a "story". It's a jackass on the phone with lonelies. Oh, and I bet that you pick all the callers so that everybody owns a "home" and "stocks". Jackasses.

Growing up, it was very clear that one was never to say, "Shut up!" as it was offensive. (Moreso was "Halt's Maul!" which you can look up.) But, you know? Shut up, Palin. Just shut up.

The Associated Press: Palin: Is Kennedy getting 'kid glove' treatment?.

One for my comicnerdsisterfriends: Seriously, couldn't you just swipe a picture of Barack Obama from, oh, anywhere and trace it because your version looks more Orenthal than Obama.

Apparently the cover, by über-talented local gay Phil Jimenez will be much better than the piece shown here, by Todd Nauck.
Wonkette : Barack Obama Is President of Spiderman.

Last month a friend of mine was trying to convince me to buy a $400 cashmere scarf at a sample sale. It was beautiful and gave me an erection. But the new economic reality said, "No!" Oh, why didn't I write about that? Why, why am I not Mike Albo?

At Kesner, Gleaming Relics of the Good Old Days - NYTimes.com