took my meat out on the town

After concluding I wouldn't be bothered by scheduling yesterday, I took the C train down to 23rd and walked east. I was picking up a couple of items for invitation making and it was a nice day to walked for hours. I determined through my walking around the city that I would adore a nice dinner and more over a little boast to my ego. I came home and got ready and headed over to Sparks. I love that I walk in and the mat'rade knows me, he kisses me on the cheek and tells me to wait a moment. I am escorted to the bar for a glass of wine. When I am ready to eat, I am given a private table in the corner and everyone comes by to check on my needs. I order a steak and broccoli to accompany my wine. It is good but way to much and ask to package up the rest. Dessert and coffee come out compliments of the house and I was smart enough to save room. It is only nine at this time and I have some time to kill before I go dancing. I was just in that mood last night, looking for trouble mood. I walk seventeen blocks down to Brother Jimmy's and thought it would be a nice gesture to give my remaining left overs to a homeless person. I didn't see any. So I took my steak to Brother Jimmys for a few cocktails. I can never visit and just have one, the bartenders, managers, and other patrons just won't allow it. I stayed until 11:30 and then hopped in a cab over to 1OAK. Still looking for someone to unload the steak on with no success. I checked my coat and explained my steak to the coat check person who actually charged me for the honor of hanging it next to my coat. No tip for her. I check out the place which is new to me and within five minutes someone has ordered me a drink. He tried to kiss me too in the first five minutes and I just laughed at him. I mingled with a few people and then found someone fun to dance with. At 3:00 I decided to call it a night so I gather up my coat and steak and walked east to Cafeteria. I am not sure that I was hungry but it seemed like a tradition especially being so close. I waited at the bar and drank water, my friend Paul from Oregon was working so I gave him a shout out. Some gay boys were asking my opinion about things and telling me how much they adore me. Love it! I sat down and ordered the usual for me nothing for my steak though. As I was leaving I went up to give a smooch to Paul and tell him good bye. I hailed a cab home and don't remember washing my face or climbing into bed but I did both successfully.
When I got up I facebooked Paul to apologize about all the kisses and found my steak in the fridge.
The steak I ate for dinner and got this message from Paul...
"Haha! Funny thing about that...you kissed my coworker Matt who was quite surprised to say the least. He came up to me and said "I think I got something that was meant for you." Maybe next time..."

too many choices

There is such a thing as too many options. I sit here two days prior to my month of leave from the airlines, from their daily control, from the insanity which they bestow on me. When I first visualized this epic month, I broke it down into fours: a week serving and making my rent, a week with Carol on our girl's holiday, a week of dog walking, and a week of a fabulous me holiday. Well old life sure has a way of saying "fuck you" when you have perfect plans. My plan to waitress all week has been shot by the economy and the fact that no one wants to give up their shifts. This tragedy has been going on for sometime as I haven't worked since December. It would be okay for me to hang out in NYC for a week to see if by the off chance someone may need me but that is what I have been doing for the last month and I am at the edge of insanity and five pounds heavier. So plans changed to go somewhere for that week instead.
I have the rest of my month nailed down as follows:
8th-14th Hawaii with Carol
15th-20th Dubai
20th-22nd Barcelona
24th-3rd dog walking and oh-happy-day house sitting!
So this first week is the one giving me issues. And it is not like I haven't had some good offers, I was offered to meet a friend in Vietnam. It looked as though it was going to work out with flights and everything until I double checked on visas. Damn it! It takes four to five business days to get a visa and of course I found out about this offer Friday evening and I left for Colorado on Sunday. The only chance I had was to go and sweet talk the embassy yesterday morning when they opened but no, had airport alert at an inappropriate time.
Sidenote: I almost ended up going to Panama City yesterday which oddly enough is one of my other options.
My other offer was to go to Copenhagen for a couple of days starting on Monday. This would give me the chance to watch the Superbowl at home with some friends and get me back on the 5th. Upsides: meeting a physical need which has been met in a really long time and I would have a free place to stay. Downsides: I have already been there, it's cold, and there is not much to do.
Option three: Turiya is operating the inaugural flight to Sydney next week. I could very easily hop my way over there and it would make perfect sense to say over there in the Pacific and then meet Carol in Hawaii. However, I have two commitments here on the 7th.
Option four: Going to Panama City. A friend of mine is down there as we speak and I can stay with him for a couple of days. Then he heads back to Houston. I am not sure if I can stay longer at his place but his emails are not looking that way. I am sure I can find a cheap hotel and come back on Friday. This seems like the best option as I could get grounded in the city and then be set free. It is also very warm and I could master not eating so much to stay warm and work on my base tan for Hawaii. The downside is the unsure of what to do down there and I would have to fly out Sunday. I was promised I could watch the SuperBowl but it's in Spanish which is fine for the game but I am sure the legendary commericals will be lost on me.
I am on call right now and don't think I will be used for the rest of the day or tomorrow so I kind of want to get a head start on things. But where do I want to go?
There are many other options, hell, I have the whole world at my fingertips.
I just have to choose.
My mind is spinning around the globe.
Where do I want to go?
And how important is this commitment on the 7th?

colorado

I am sitting at a beautiful counter top trying to keep my sanity while looking after a five and an eleven year old. Clearly this is not the holiday I had planned. I came out to Colorado and attempted to see everyone while here while also being an accommodating to the those who are giving me a ride around the area.
Sunday I arrived after we had to abort our first approach and circle while it cleared up. The second try was successful and I was watching with a little of tenseness after listening to the flight attendant describe the approach which had to be done with such exactness a faction of a mistake would wide us up in the side of the mountain. It was the first time more than one person has ever met me at the airport and it was so great to see my girls waiting to pick me up. We went and met her hubby and some other friends had some nachos and brews and then headed home. Her place is a lodge like house sat in front of the backdrop of the mountains.
The next day we hit the slopes of Snowmass in Aspen and it was a picture perfect day for skiing. I haven't been on skis in years. It is amazing how we let fear take over when we are adults. I started down the bunny slope and realized I remembered how to do this. We jumped on the gondola and headed up..and up. I was staring down and the fear took over. There is only one way down, did I remember how to stop? Crap, what am I doing? I was doing okay until I reached a blue hill and I went into panic mood. I finally just went for it and ended up crashing because I was going too fast for my liking so I just sat down. I counted the pieces, two skis still attached and one pole...shit! I look up the hill and five feet up was the other pole. I tried to side step and get it but gravity was my enemy. I took off my skis and walked up there. I got my feet back underneath me and continued down. That was my only fall all day. We did five runs and I loved every minute of it as the snow hit against my face and my confidence grew.
We came home to dinner and hung out.
Today we were supposed to go to Vail but things didn't seem to click into place so here I am in this gorgeous home while Hilary is with her horse, Mike is at work and I have a new memory for birth control.

pants or jeans to be more spefic

While re-telling a conversation to Nichole which transpired between Jim and myself she asked my about "7's".
I was dating this guy Jay for a hot minute and when I ended it, I simply let him know that we were not a good emotional match. He told me he didn't know what that meant; so I used the analogy of when people date it is like trying on clothes (this is stolen from Sleepless in Seattle if you are keeping track). Sometimes they there are too tight and restricting, sometimes they almost fit but need some adjustments, and sometimes they are not even taken off the hanger.
Jim was right on the ball when I was explaining my theory. He choose to narrow it down to just pants because they have to fit just so. I agreed that you just don't feel good about yourself until you have the perfect pants. He laughed and then called me "pant-less" the rest of the day.
The story now laid out to Nichole and she asked me as we were riding the elevator upstairs to the shoe department of Nordstroms. I explained to her that I wanted my Armani jeans I had bought in Rome. The jeans that fit amazing in the waist that sits just right on my hips, the legs are the perfect length for heels but not too long for flats, the butt always looks good. I feel amazing when I wear these jeans.
"What about 7's?" she asks.
My second pair of 7 jeans used to be my favorite and they are my go-to jeans for going out and when I want to feel good running errands around the city. In fact I am wearing them right now. I have gained some winter weight due to my lack of activity combined with my wanting of comfort food. These jeans don't judge me for the extra 5 pounds they just stretch to make it all seem okay. They are comfortable and reliable. I am disappointed when they are dirty and I have to go to other jeans. They dress up, they dress down. I love them. But not as much as I love how I feel when I wear those Armani's. You can buy 7's anywhere, they look good on almost everyone. I only know of a few places to buy the others. That perfect fit I am still looking for in a date.

how much more?

I am losing grip on my sanity. It has been 18 days since i was a flight attendant, six weeks since I have been a waitress, and gratefully only three hours since I have been a dog walker. I live under the control of scheduling these days and unlike the two months prior I am not a call out line which means they can call me 24 hours a day and give me two hours to be at the airport. My bags are already packed and my uniform hanging in the closet dressed with wings. That is good common practice for me, but I know that I am not going to go anywhere. At best I may be given airport alert and sent home after my duty day. There are no trips for reserves these days. All of my friends are sitting around as well. It sucks also because no one is giving up waitressing shifts and the couple I have been asked about I couldn't commit until the last minute and by then they were gone. It is a maddening cycle actually. Last Friday I thought it would be good fun to start drinking every night. Seeing how I don't get out of bed until 1200 these days, why not? For a period of fives days this was a fabulous idea, drink every night and sleep all day. Once I would get up I would walk to Starbucks, and come back to my "make-shift" office at the dinning room table and play on the computer. I will have to say I am being a bit constructive with designing things and do travel research but still...goofing off is a better term. I do this until 1800 or so when my roommate comes home and then I head out the door. He is a little ADD and is a nerd in the nicest respect of the word. He never goes anywhere and makes dinner at 2300 almost every night. We have polite conversation while the two dogs jump around and then I find a way to end it so I can go into my room and make a game plan for the evening. Tonight I don't have the energy to brave the cold and sit at a bar. Tonight I sit here and wonder if I can go to bed by ten and actually sleep. Sleep and not have nightmares or wake up with my head spinning in circles.

whole foods dinner

I am having dinner at Whole Foods for the second time this week; I am wondering if I am drawn here because it's a piece of home. I sat at the end of a high bar communal table and placed my dinner out before me: salad, water, green tea, and key lime pie. A woman moves in such a dramatic fashion I can't help but to watch as she gathers her belongings from the next table to join mine. First placed down is her small salad and dessert containers then her coat, followed by an Evelyn and Crabtree bag. Her commotion cause my attention to fixate on her and her belongings. She sees this as an opportunity to talk. "Damn woman is talking about a delivery at a table we people eat" is her opening line. I looked at her with a puzzled look wondering what was so offensive about food delivery or perhaps a piece of furniture. I give her an understanding nod however. Sensibility took over and I realized she must have been referring to the birth of a child. Her eyes light up as she looks at my dessert, much like mine did while choosing it from the pastry case. Before both of us sits a perfect three inch in diameter key lime cheesecake with a lime at top waiting patiently in it's clear container for my consumption. While she comments on my choice, she holds up her mess of a dessert and proclaims it's tiramisu. She opens it up to have a bite before her dinner.
I continue to watch her a she wolfs down her food with no beverage in sight. She stops only to squirt some lotion onto a napkin and smell it. She has put her ipod in by this point and then proceeds to line up the C&E bags contents on the table before her. She removes price tags of each and stares at them devoting just a much time to last as to the first. Her hair is an over processed red and pulled back sloppily. The liner of her eyes picks up one of the many colors of her fleece vest which layers over another fleece.
My heart goes out to her because I can guess she is single and myabe alone in the city. She had the trademarks of being from the Northwest. Perhaps a young girl who came out to the big city to see what else there was in the world. She didn't leave in time. She becomes a flash of my future if I continue to eat dinner alone on Saturday night in New York City.

snow

It started off with a few flakes while I was in the UPS store giving in to paying someone to pack my TV. Now as I sit at my make-shift desk the flakes are in race to hit the ground and have grown substantially. I love the snow and more over how beautiful it makes the city. Everything slows down for a moment and even the oldest person stops and stares up for a moment. The ESB is no longer in my view but what replaces the usual view outside my window is perfect. I walk to the sliding glass door to look up and get lost in the magic.

water landing

I am watching the news about the second plane crash in a month. I am looking at it from a flight attendant perspective. This was a water landing. They had time to plan the evacuation. It has shook me up, more than the rejected take off crash in Denver. This one landed in the ice cold Hudson in one piece. It was reported that both wings were on fire and the captain choose to land in the river versus the Bronx or Manhattan. Each crash is a learning experience. We are trained to react and place ourselves in the position of what if I was on that flight.

two-e

I am in a dating recession. Mostly because I am so damn picky and partly because I am not in the mood to play the game that goes along with the getting to know you week. The texts, calls, yada, yada. I also haven't been asked out in a while either so I said what the hell when I was given a business card on my flight to London.

We emailed back and forth with my trip to Portland and his to London in between when we actually met to when we arranged to meet up. I used Dave May's tactic of just communicating through email. I like it because I am not obligued to answer the phone or respond immediately as a text prompts.

We decided on a day and I let him pick the place as he would be coming from work and I would come from dog walking. He chose a place called Galway Hooker on 36th. Joy, same place Chris took me on our "turn around date" and first kissed me. Yes, I am familar with the place I say, what time would you like to meet? He tells me between 6:30 and 7:00. I look at the clock as I am leaving my place and send him a quick email that I will be closer to the later time but I am on my way. When I get out of the subway at 34th, I receive an email that he had just left the office. We should have showed up with in minutes of each other.

I arrive at 6:50 and make a pass through the bar. I didn't see him so I found a bar stool near the door and began to read "Home and Away" an Irish pub paper. I looked up every time the door opened and after a drink and twenty minutes I began to plan a place to take myself to dinner. The bartender came over and gave me another drink and a sympathic smile. It took me until 1935 to finish it and decide this is what I get for accepting a date from a guy who asked me for a massage on the airplane.

I exit the bar and walk west. He is standing there in thirty degree weather. "What are you doing?" He tells me that he waiting for me and thought he was being stood up. I explain to him I was waiting inside for him for a half an hour and now I am going to dinner. He said he emailed me and I showed him my phone to prove I hadn't received anything. He asks if he can buy me dinner and said yes, we are going Nobu. It is 21 blocks up and I started walking. He asked me if I had my eyebrow pierced,
which struck me as odd. This was the beginning of odd topics for the evening,

We make it to Nobu and ask for a table, we are kindly sat at the sushi bar (I would have scored a table). We order a few things and make small talk. I notice that he is talking quite a bit and I chalk it up to nervousness. He begins to tell me how much grain it takes to fed a cow till maturity. Mind you this guy is from NJ not Kansas, I am not sure where he got this information or why he is telling me. I respond that I like veal best and they don't take as much grain because they are killed as babies.

We finish up dinner and he wants dessert. He wants ice cream to be more specific. Fine I will walk with you to get ice cream. We walk and walk and find nothing but I do point him to a deli which has good cheesecake. He orders a slice and I order coffee counting the seconds until the end of the date. I have given up talking or trying to tell any story what so ever because it interupted and then moved onto another subject. We talk about cooking briefly and I started to tell my troubles find enchillada sauce in the city. The subject shifts suddenly to unions and people banging pots and pans. Yes, I was lost as well so I called it a night.

I told him I was taking the B uptown and going home when I was really heading over to BJ's to meet Beth. Well he decides to go the same stop but downtown. So we walk through the turn stiles me cursing him for following me as I was just going to pretend to go down and then catch a cab east bound. He is on the upper level and I need the lower level. I give him a hug good night and walk down the stairs. Mind you I am wearing a bright pink jacket so I can't just walk back up the stairs and leave. My train comes first so I take it to the next stop and grab my cab.

I am enjoying time with friends and recreating the date to their amusement when I get this email....
Subject line "did you..."
"Get home safe? I saw a huge rat on the staircase in the subway. It was kinda just hanging out. Strange. Figured I’d make sure you got on your train and weren’t carried away but rabid rodents J

I had a nice time tonight. I’m going to go with Howard Stern as my celebrity. He talks about Nobu all the time on the radio so it will be totally believable!

I just emailed my mom about the east coast enchilada sauce mystery. I’ll keep you posted."

anywhere

I am looking for a box to ship my TV in. At first I thought I could just take it to Fed-ex and have them package it prior to shipping as it would be more insurable. I looked up the nearest Fed ex yesterday. Then wondered how I would make it ten blocks in Harlem while carrying a TV. It occurred to me to take a taxi from the apartment and it would be well worth the $5 and would save my sanity. Also knowing my luck, I did some research last night on how much it would cost to send it with my discount. I wrote down the phone number to inquire about preparations prior to my arrival. I am glad I called because I learned they couldn’t package things for me. I went downstairs to see if my doorman, Thomas had any ideas for me. He was busy so I went to grab a coffee and think the situation through. I decided that I would find an original box somewhere, more and likely Best Buy and take it to Fed ex via cab. I took a chance in asking Thomas if there were any spare TV boxes in the building. As we were walking down to the basement, I asked, “Do you ever think of how hard it is to get the simplest thing done in New York?” His response was perfect. “That’s why if you can make it here, you can make it anywhere.”

ordering coffee

I am standing in line at Starbucks the other morning. Okay is was after noon as I don't roll out of bed until then. The guy in front me orders a coffee. "Cream and sugar". The explanation comes from behind the counter that those things are put in by the customer but she would leave room for him.

I got his attention, "Can I ask you something?".

He looked shocked I was talking to him. "Um sure."

"When you are on an airplane, do you tell the flight attendant cream and sugar when you order a coffee?"

He paused for a moment and said yes.

His pause made me not believe he made this a practice.

"Why do you ask?"

"Well I am a flight attendant and it drives me crazy when passengers expect us to read their minds. You didn't expect that lady (motioning towards the bartista) to know how you liked your coffee."

"You're not from around here are you?"

my bf

I get so fuckin' irritated at people who choose to walk down the busy streets of Manhattan holding hands. Most of the time these idiots are tourist and haven't been briefed on the "we don't have time for this crap, either speed up or hold hands in the middle of the street instead". They wander along, not a care in the world and with certainly no thought to the people behind them. I am usually that person behind them who walks a hundred miles an hour (NY and my walking skills are made for each other) and I try to duck from side to side to get past them and on my way. I can dodge to the right but then they see something they need to look at. I try for the left but inevitably there is someone coming at me or on a really bad day another damn couple holding hands.

This phenomenon is crazy maddening when I walking the dogs because some of them don't understand that we need to adjust our pace. The pugs, for example, just decide to stop when someone is too close thus making me fall on top of them if I am daydreaming. Zeus on the other hand, he likes to get in stride with them. Especially Latino ladies, he loves to walk in between them. I seek these couples out sometimes when he is being a little shit. My big dogs, I love to let them run right up behind these damn couples and let the pitbull doing the talking, "get the hell out of our way, I am going to the park" their presence seems to say.

These sidewalk blockers are a great work out when I actually choose to run on the street versus the park. I weave in and out them as well as any other person or object on the crowded sidewalk. It is a great ab work out as long as I am mentally prepared.

The time when this crap makes me the most agitated is when I have my roller board and backpack behind me. I am walk at a good pace and therefore, this physics here, I have extra momentum behind me to stop or to run your ass over with. It is usually on the way home from a trip when I am tied and have already carried my bags up and down stairs at the airport, heaved into overhead lockers, wheeled on to and off of the bus, and up and down the subway stairs. It is these times when I see these couples holding hands that I get a little sad that I don't have anyone to hold my hand and irate the person in a hurry behind me. It is these moments that I look down and realize I am holding hands with my someone...my roller board.

He goes with me where ever I go, always up for adventure and rarely gives me any lip now that he is sporting pink roller blade wheels. He is happy to sit and wait for me to get ready. He holds my things without giving me the look like, "really?". He has out on his own stand both at home and on the road. He holds the things I need for daily trip survival. He wears my stickers collected proudly. He has been all over the world with me and never once asked me why I stayed in the room with him instead of going out. He knows I am faithful as for the backpack, we went through some losers before finding this one in Brussels.

five nights

There is much to be said in my life for spending five nights in a row in one bed. I am extremely accustomed to having my stuff ready to go at all times. In the morning whilst away it is routine of me to use one beg and take to my rollerboard then back to finish getting ready so the other may be put back as well. If I am really on the ball while at home, I take the time to refill all my "UK-tavived" bottles and pack them neatly back into the clear bag which conforms to security screenings.

Each morning I get up, I make my bed sometimes immediately or first thing after returning to it's side from running to the bathroom. I make beds if I am at home, most definatly, staying at a guys house (if memory serves correctly), and in a hotel room. I was questioned about my strange habit by Chris one morning as I was making his bed.
"You don't have to do that" he says.
Sorry just habit.
"Do you make your bed all the time?"
Yes, even in the hotel rooms, I don't want the maid to think I am a slob.
"Even on check out day?" he presses.
Everyday is checkout day, I reply.

And so it goes. Even when I am slow, I never get five nights in a row in a bed. So for this to sequence to have recently occur to me, it through me back into routine. I got up every morning at 0930, made my bed, walked around in a daze for a bit my feet making the old familiar sound as they made contact with the cork floors. I became a quick, once again regular at the local Starbucks and found myself taking the long way back to my layover spot. Because I am a creator of habit, I could eat the same breakfast, lunch and dinner everyday for weeks with no complaints, I fell fast for this routine. I like waking up in pink shits versus purple or the oh-so-common white.

Now I am back in NY about to go to be in "my bed" and wait for the call tomorrow to see which bed I will be making come Monday morning.

09.jan.09

In writing “about myself” in the box reserved on myspace page a hundred years ago, I wrote that I was "into traveling" and was hoping to have my passport filled up by the time it expires.
It was midnight on the eve of the ninth of this month when I pulled it out of it zipper pouch in my backpack to verify the number. I stopped and looked at both the issue date and expiration. 09.Jan.13. Four more years to go.
Myspace was set up prior to this leap of faith that has sent me out to fill up those pages to the point I am asking people to no longer stamp me since I am running out of room. There are pages devoted to visas, a two work visas and holiday visas. One is for a country I have yet to go to, but could any day now.
That is the pull of this job, the magnet of why I keep sticking it out. Where will I go tomorrow? There are so many possibilities and it always there at my fingertips, almost always out of reach.
Until the phone rings and I am sent to a new destination; one where I will beg the crew to stop by customs so I can add that precious stamp to my collection.

and then there was one

My second day of waking up in my bed, the one with the pink sheets was revitalizing. I got up in time to take a much needed shower and throw some clothes in the wash. May I pause to note how awesome it is to have a washer and dryer right here in the house. I cruised around with Nichole with a pop in to my chiropractor who used the word "jacked" while describing my back. Every bone and joint was cracked under her body. I feel wonderful and apparently my legs are the same length again!
The day was spent in preparation for my international wine and cheese party. The turn out was awesome with old dear friends, neighborhood friends, and new people. The friends of friends kept apologizing for crashing the party which I thought was preposterous. Everyone is a stranger before they become your friend was my reply to each "crasher". It was a huge success in my book and I even took a minute to step to the side and remember how lucky I am to have so many good people in my life.
Wine bottles, all fourteen of them in the recycling box, cheese in the fridge, wine glasses awaiting cleaning and myself was all left standing at 11pm.

unplanned date with joe

I love the fact that I can find a bad date even if I am not out on an oficial date. I went out for a night cap after Dave May dropped me off from a nice dinner around 2100 local time. I was convienced I didn't want to hang around the place and let my mind wander about as I thought it may. So I grabbed my purse and headed down the south staircase. I walked past many places peering in to find nothing exciting going on. I finally decided on Vault as they make good drinks and there was more than 5 people in the bar. So I saddled up at the bar and ordered a lemon basil martini. After half the drink was downed a guy came alone and sat two bar stools away. Mind you, I have been in prime looking mode lately, about half the men population has been turning my head. So he finally comes and talks to me. I should have ran when I figured out how negative he was about everything. I learned he lived in Seattle and was an ex-Marine...run...jarhead...run. This is said with love because my father was in the Marinie Corp. But there is something about military guys. God love them for their sacrifice for us but when it comes to dating...run. Anyway we talked for a bit and then I was ready to leave and we closed out our bills at the same time. I paid for mine and he for his. May I make a point here that in NY a woman never pays for a drink. Those boys weren't raised that way. It was difficult to swallow at first being from dutch-ville west coast but I have quickly learned it is how to treat a lady. And I like it, a drink for my time, Okay. So we left together and ended up at the same bar at which I had a fabulous first date with Tom, where I had a second date with Andy, a fun double with Sean. You know the "dive bar" of the Pearl. It was in the very booth of the Tom and I date that this guy, Joe taught me how to pick a lock from his years in intellegence with the Corp. When I finally decided I had enough of the boring conversation, I motioned to the bartender for the bill which totaled $13, love Portland. And he accepted my contribution of $5 because that was all I had that I knew I was on a bad, unplanned date. When he asked me for my number, I gave him the standard fake because that is what nice girls (oregon) with good sense (new york) do.

nightly routine

I went to wash my face and brush my teeth; you know the usual routine before heading off to bed anywhere I happen to be laying my head to rest. I walked into the yellow bathroom with a touch of familiarity much like I feel when I am in Manchester or Paris. I looked for a bit for the washcloth and then set up my dop kit next to the sink. It should have been like clockwork for me to put the washrag somewhere to dry but I had to hesitate asking myself where I used to put it prior.

I am home currently, the real home, the one in which I have my name attached to a deed somewhere in a vault.
It feels odd.
I walked to the lobby and turned to the elevators, there is a distinct smell with my building. I walked into the elevator and noticed a new floor. Doors opened to the fourth floor and I made my way with ease to the right and around the corner. I had trouble with the lock but that is just me and my relationship with locks. I walked into an immaculately clean place. A touch of familiar but not as much I as have longed for as I lay awake hours before the wake up call. I just walked around in a daze opening cabinets and looking at my things.
My glasses, my blender, my matches, my bowls, and spices. It was so very odd to think of these things as my own. My old life lay here before my eyes and at my finger tips. I sit here now at my old desk, my desk that has been with me for ten years and seen much inspiration, hurt, and joy.

I sit here now wondering where I am in every sense.

not so happy new year

It was snowing yesterday; it was a beautiful scene. The flurries dancing in the wind and then deciding to stay by attaching to the ground and anything in their path. I took the opportunity to take photos in the park of the snow dusting the trees. It was a magical time to be at the park and my attitude was still positive when it came to the evening ahead.

The phone rang at 1530 just as I was applying a coat of nail polish. I answered and asked what good things awaited me. I found out and questioned that I was to be deadheaded to Houston to sit at the Marriott Hotel on ready reserve... excuse me, what?

I got dressed in civilian clothes and headed to the airport. The bus was not in its normal pick up spot since everyone and their dog was in town for the ball drop. An unlikely person told me where to go and I followed her thinking it was the perfect reminder that the year was going to be behind me soon.

I got a salad and joined the other nine people who had the same misfortune as myself. We sat miserably on the flight for four hours wondering what would happen to us. We got to the hotel to find out that we didn't have rooms so luckily someone took charge and got things worked out.

We agreed to meet in the hotel bar in ten minutes to ring in the New Year, the CST new year since the ball dropped while we were waiting for our rooms. I was the second to arrive and immediately scoped the room for a midnight kiss. Nothing promising considering there was maybe 25 people and of them 20 made up this odd Mexican family singing old tune karoke. I am talking about a fat ten year old girl trying to sing Frank...they don't go together. Rich and I waiting for the others and ordered a double from Donna who informed us the bar would be closing at midnight. I stood there thinking I could be at a black tie penthouse party right now. What the hell is going on here. The others showed up and ordered a drink to go and went back to their rooms to order room service. After ordering my own bottle of wine (yes you read correctly) I walked up to the cutest guy in the room and struck up a conversation. He was a Texan and after five minutes I decided that I would have to down the whole bottle of wine to want to kiss him.

We meet in Dale's room and listened to music and tried to make sense of why we were here. Four gay guys, a latino girl, and myself in a hotel room new years eve. I begged one of the guys to kiss me at midnight local time and you would think I was asking them to kiss a fish. I got a peck from the petite one.

I went to bed sending no well wishes to anyone like I normally do because try as I might, I had nothing positive to say.

I woke up and drank the $5 bottle of water in my room and then headed over to the airport for breakfast and coffee. Thank god for coffee. I wander around a bookstore and then another for a good hour. My book is almost at an end as I read it on the way here and I have no computer. I didn't bring it because if I am send to Central American countries they take it in security. So my only sanity is left at home. I bought a book, a paper, three bottles of water, some jerky, a postcard, and some dried fruit for my hold out in room 4178.

It felt as though I was in a foreign country, as most Texans feel they should be their own country, it is suiting. The stupidity that surrounded me as I walked through the airport just amazed me, that all the fat asses that are down here. Here is a perfect example. I finally decided on a book and was finishing up my transaction when a high school girl came up to the counter.

"I am looking for Wuthering Heights."

"Wandering what?" replied the uneducated cashier.

"Wuthering Heights, we are supposed to read it for class."

"Who wrote it?"

"I am not sure."

It was at this point I stepped in and explained that it was a classic book and I think maybe Hemingway was the author, I am not sure though.

"Heming-who?"

"Earnest Hemingway, a literary icon." I said.

"Can you spell that?"

Good Lord please get me the hell out of this place and back to the land of intelligence, healthy food, bars that stay open til 0400, and my sanity.