Transparency

I’m wearing my new white Aldo sneakers today. They are definitely new but stylized to look worn and tattered. They came dirtied up with this black tar stuff which could be peeled off easily if I had longer fingernails. Long fingernails are feminine. I don’t have long fingernails because I am a man who loves manly things like dirty shoes, sweaty shirts and short fingernails. But, if you happen to see the pink pansies and lacey inpatients in my garden, please don’t hesitate to appreciate.

I sorta like these shoes. They fit comfortably, despite the creak and squeak they make with every step I take. I swear though, if they weren’t 80% off when I bought them, I wouldn’t have bothered. My closet is filled with enough shoes, but a good bargain is hard to resist. Besides, they came laced up in a funky untied symmetrical pattern.

I’m hungry. Should I have Thai for lunch? There is this highly popular Thai place down the road. I should probably check it out, considering we are moving to Framingham tomorrow (goodbye Waltham, goodbye route 95 traffic, hello spending $1,196 a year on mass pike tolls!)

The restaurant is called Green Papaya. I haven’t eaten there because I’m scared of cellophane noodles. They taste fine, but find their transparent appearance unnerving.

I don't trust anything transparent. No matter how hard you look you can only see what’s on the other side; blinding everything immediate and temporal.

Go red sox!

easy cheesy

I’m sitting down to enjoy a bowl of Easy Mac. Regular Easy Mac is never cheesy enough, so I had to mix a slice of American cheese in and sprinkle some Kraft parmesan on top. It tastes sorta gross in my mouth but feels really good going down the throat.

I just decided I need to start watching MTV’s The Hills again. I miss it. I wonder what’s happening with Heidi? She better not be engaged to that asshole Spencer, he had really white teeth but his speech was busted.

:::an update to this post>>>>

I do NOT need to start watching The Hills....that show is absolutely borring. How can anyone watch that show?

lolcat

see more crazy cat pics

peaches and dream

Basking in the scintillating sun, I bit into a velvety ripened peach. A slight breeze caresses my warm skin and sends goose bumps down my arms. I’m gazing out at a pastoral forest from the sanctity from my front porch. The squeaking floorboards from under my rocking chair remind me that this pristine land I see will remain undeveloped forever.

The sugary peach nectar drips through my sticky fingers. Nibbling the last bit of flesh around the pit, I think about throwing it yonder, amongst the leafy thicket. It would land in the woods and remain undisturbed. Earth’s fertilizing soil would nourish the seed for years and years, blooming into a seedling. It would then grow into a peach tree only to subsequently produce and reproduce more juicy peaches. This is nature’s little miracle, this is reproduction.

Much like if you toss a seed into fruitful soil, two lovers laying in bed will foster impregnating results. After a couple ruffling romps, the magic of insemination produces lots and lots of babies. I don't have a baby. But my coworker Lenda will in a couple months, that’s right, she’s preggers!

She told me the news today when I stopped by her office. As excited as I am for her, learning of this recent news worries me. Lenda is my age and if she’s pining for kids, shouldn't I be as well? The theory of association dictates that I should be settling down to pop out a few kids of my own. Yikes. I love kids, but the idea of being responsible for another human being from infancy to adulthood strikes a power chord of anxiety deep within.

It isn’t that I don’t think I’m capable, people tell me that I’m great with children. And not to toot my own horn, but I agree with them, I am awesome. I have some infallible skills when it comes to understanding how kids perceive their world. I can speak their language, move their speed and educationally aid them in their journey through life.

There is dignified honor that comes with raising a child with a personalized branding; I can definitely see the benifits of having genetically related kids. But the horror of responsibility! Eighteen years of such dedication. Not to mention life-long association! This is downright frightening.

Lately I’ve been thinking that maybe my destiny with children is only as a spectator. Besides, a homosexual man is thought of as a curator of society, or a maintainer of culture. Without us, history would be forgotten, humans wouldn’t have discovered fire. Trendy up-and-coming neighborhoods would be still be ancient cave slums instead of preserved historic townhouses.

Children? Pleeease...I’d be a mess of a father right now. My current life is too eclectic for kids.
I think the endless nights of drinking at clubs and partaking in debauchery relinquishes a stable upbringing atmosphere. A child would simply wither and die.

And when I’m not flying high in socialdrum, I’m huddled in a corner thinking profusely, scribbling wordplay on the nearest cocktail napkin—the latest addition of useless repartee to be published in a self-titled memoir. No, a child is not a good idea for right now, but what about the future?

I’ll be singing a different tune when my biological clock starts ticking away audibly in my mid-thirties. I imagine by then I’ll be a peppery salted adult. Yes, I imagine I’ll be ripe for progeny then.

I can see it now, my husband and I nestled in a cute suburban cottage. I’ll be wearing an apron while planting cabbage in our victory garden; he’ll be inside emailing the latest addition to the editor of his exceedingly popular New York Times editorial column. The children will be sitting quietly at the dining room table listening to Mozart and finishing their math homework. I think maybe that’s what it’ll be like. As for now, unless you’ve got Michael J. Fox in a DeLorean waiting outside eagerly to hit 88 mph, I’ll hunker down for the currently unexpected.

Anniversary

Batten down the hatches and call in the dogs because today marks the one year anniversary of my employment at Techonline! For the past twelve months I’ve banked time, energy and experience at this job much like a young boy drudgingly saves portions of his weekly allowance, saving up for that expensive electric train set in the toy store window. With every accumulated step I take there is a temptation to let go. A small part of me wants to leave and squander away the frivolous time spent building a reputation for myself. But the bigger part of me knows to toil on, moving forwards with angst and patience.

All through college, you and I have been told to keep our first job for one year. Doing that emphasizes resilience and dedication, which are venerable qualities. At home or at school, this initiative was encouraged by parents, teachers, councilors and friends. Even my agency recruiter underlined the importance of keeping a landed job for one year, despite any grueling negativity that could arise. Knowing my tendency to be flighty and readily distracted, I accepted this one-year thing as a challenge, already expecting to fail. I, like you, dream up so many plans and fantasies, most of which involve having adventures outside of Massachusetts. When I started my job a year ago, I had no idea that I’d actually be successful!

Wow! Yay me! Look at me suppressing my restless urge for thrilling differences. Excuse me while I go pat myself on the back…

Don’t let my enthusiastic festivity of triumphant excitement fool you. My exclamations are purely sardonic. Today’s anniversary arrived much like a train to a station, with little pomp or circumstance. While I’ve fruitfully stayed here for one year, I can’t let go of what I’ve sacrificed in order to do so. There is no celebratorial cake in the kitchen here in the office. Nor is there a party in my honor scheduled for conference room ‘A’ this afternoon. My coworkers didn’t forget, I just never reminded them. IsIt it that I feel slighted like Samantha Baker from Sixteen Candles?

I’ve eagerly waited three hundred and sixty five days for this to arrive, each one passing with a contemptuous “all right already!” Ha, you’d think with all the hype I’d have some sort of articulate expression. Yet; now that this day is here, I feel dry. Which is ironic considering it’s been pouring rain all day long.

I can now completely remove the bookmark I’ve been inching forwards through the novel titled, One Year at CMP/Techonline, marking the pages and days passed. When I get home this afternoon I will put that book on my unkempt bookshelf alongside Bus driving with the PVTA, Emphasizing the Fierce at Abercrombie and Fitch, and Answering Phones with Jesus at the Christian Science Center. Actually, now that I think about it, there is comfort knowing I can ease down in my red comfy chair tonight with the satisfaction of having one year of a corporate job under my belt.

Next step: The book titled, Not-for-Profit and You, or maybe I’ll run down to Barnes and Nobles to pick up A Successful Romantic Relationship.

Hmmmm….choices, choices…

New York New York

“New York City at la-ah-ahast!”
“Shinny!”
“What’s that smell?”
“OH GOSH!”
:::grab:::
“gasp!”
:::grab:::
“oh!”
“oof…”
::flash::
“AAAHH!”
:::punch::::
“I’m bleeding!”
“what to do?”
“Dance it out…”

Bob & Co. party essentials

On March 15th 130 hosted a goodbye/birthday party for dearly departed Bob. Bob is now gone, may he rest in piece. Even though it's only been a couple of days, the memory of him at 130 lives strong within all of us. I just hope that even though he's in a better place, he'll be able to hold all of us close to his heart.
~Bob? This video is for you: