Citizen of the Month

the writing and photography of Neil Kramer

Category: Life in General (Page 27 of 46)

Not Saving the Rainforests

January 25, 2008 / / 42 Comments

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I might as well end the week with another tale of assertiveness gone wild. 

Sophia has a cold, so I went to Whole Foods to buy some chicken soup.  It must be “Green” month at Whole Foods because at the check-out stand, there were numerous displays and posters about energy-saving and the environment.  Instead of the organic chocolate bars lined up as impulse buys as you wait, they had  energy-saving lightbulbs in green packages.   Gift cards were displayed that bought you “wind-powered” energy.   I’ll have to go back a second time to read how these cards work.  Do you fan yourself with them in the summer?

After serving myself the soup from their self-help soup vats in the deli department, I stood on line to pay.  There was a bearded man in front of me buying organic garbanzo beans.  The very pretty check-out girl rang him up, and then asked him, “Would you like to donate a dollar to the Whole Foods Rainforest Campaign?” (or something like that)

“Of course,” he answered.

His answer bugged me.  Why did he answer so quickly?  Does he even know what this campaign is about?  Is he assuming that just because Whole Foods is doing it, that it is worthy?  Shouldn’t he ask to see the literature first?  How much of the dollar actually goes to the rainforest?  Would he be so eager to give money if the girl wasn’t so pretty? 

“Thank you for you donation,” said the girl.  “Your dollar will save 230 acres of the Amazonian rainforest.” (or something like that)

S**t!  Why did she have to say that?  How can anyone — after hearing that — say no?  If I dare no, it is like I am personally destroying 230 acres of the essential rainforest. 

It was now my turn.  She rang up my chicken soup, then looked at me with her large green eyes.

“Would you like to… blah blah…” 

I didn’t need to hear the rest because I knew what she was saying.  I knew what she was thinking.

She was thinking, “Oh, here is a smart-looking man with glasses who surely knows about the problems with the rainforests of the world and must be pretty well-off if he is shopping at Whole Foods, so he would look like a real loser if he didn’t give a measly dollar as a donation.”

I was about to say, “Of course,” when my new assertiveness training took hold.  Why am I giving a dollar to this charity right now?  Do I really WANT to or am I being a pushover?  You know what?… I can be my own man.   Screw the rainforest.   Why not be a little selfish today?  I’m going to take that dollar and… buy myself a lottery ticket!

“I’m sorry.  Not today,” I told the check-out girl, referring to the donation.

“That’s fine,” she replied, her green eyes squinting at me with disappointment and seething hate.

Now, I realize that many of my readers are environmentally-conscious and believe that the rainforests are very important.  The world’s rainforests are currently disappearing at a rate of 6000 acres every hour (this is about 4000 football fields per hour).

Well, screw you too!  I’m gonna be a mega-millionaire on Saturday!

(editor’s note:  the author does love the rainforests and will donate 10% 8% of his mega-millions to charity)

Sucking Candy

January 23, 2008 / / 73 Comments

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I already told this story on Twitter, but I don’t think anyone believed me, so I’ll tell it again.

Sophia’s mother asked me to pick up two things from her supermarket:  mayonnaise and these sugar-free Werther’s candies that she likes to have while watching TV.  I drove over and stopped at the supermarket near her home.  I was unfamiliar with the layout of the store and I was in a rush.  I had an appointment later that day.  I approached a supermarket employee who was stocking boxes.  He was a young, friendly-faced, college-aged kid.

“Where can I find mayonnaise?” I asked him.

“Aisle four!  I’ll show you.”  he replied, in that cheerful California “have a nice day” supermarket voice that you would never hear in New York. 

He guided me over to the condiment section, where I found my “Best Foods” Mayonnaise.  (side note:  In New York, it is Hellman’s Mayonnaise.  In California, it is Best Foods Mayonnaise.  In New York, it is Arnold’s Bread.  In California, it is Orowheat.  In New York, it is Edy’s Ice Cream.  In California, it is Dreyer’s ice cream.  I have this personal conspiracy theory that the names were changed for the West Coast so they seem less “Jewish.” — but that’s another post)

After grabbing the mayonnaise, I thanked the stock boy.

“One more thing,” I asked.  “Do you know where I can find “sucking candies?”

He giggled nervously.  We were alone in the condiment aisle.

“What do you mean?”  He asked.

“Sucking candies!”

“Uh… the candies are in front by the register.”

“No, I don’t mean like the M&Ms.  I mean the candies you suck on.  The… HARD candies.”

He turned red faced.  At the same time, he seemed VERY intrigued.  I’m not exactly sure what was going on, but it seemed as if I had hit upon some new “code” that has replaced the hitting of feet in the bathroom stall.   He looked up and smiled, shyly.

“I’ll find it myself.”  I quickly said, stumbling over a shopping cart as I went searching for the hard candies.

A few minutes later, I was in line, ready to check out with my mayonnaise and sucking candies.  I saw the stock boy looking my way.  I held up the package of Werthers that I bought, hoping that he got the message.  He GOT the message alright, but I’m not sure WHAT that message was.  He waved good-bye to me, a wisp of hopefulness in his eyes.

When I got back home, I logged onto Twitter.

“Does anyone use the term “sucking candies?”

I was surprised that nobody had ever used the term before.  My entire family calls them “sucking candies.”  “Good and Plenty” is candy.  A Hershey’s Bar is  chocolate.  A Werther’s is “sucking candy.”  Where did this term come from and why was I the only one using it?

Last night, Ninja Poodles sent me a message.  She noticed this on Margalit‘s Twitter. 

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Yeah!  I’m not alone.

Since both Margalit and I are Jewish, I wonder if “sucking candy” is a Jewish term that was changed for the West Coast.

Man vs. Boy

January 22, 2008 / / 21 Comments

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Later today, I’ll be walking into therapy with my head held high.   Yesterday, I took an important step towards being assertive.   I spoke up for myself.  I stood my ground, despite the aggressiveness of my opponent.

It all started when I entered my local coffee shop, a business named Hawaii Coffee or Aloha Coffee — I’m not entirely sure, because although the coffee shop has been opened for a year and a half, they still haven’t placed a sign outside.  Inside, the walls are brightly decorated with photos of surfers and real ukuleles, all there to remind you that the shop is Hawaiian-themed.  It is a decent-looking place, but they should have saved some of the money they spent on the kitschy ukuleles, and bought a sign instead.

The “Hawaiian” coffee shop have several different types of coffee, including their “famous” Hawaiian Kona coffee which, ironically, is their worst-tasting coffee.  But there are free re-fills and free wi-fi, so I can’t complain too much.

Usually the shop is empty when I come in, but today it was packed — with mothers and kids.  It was Martin Luther King Day, so the schools were closed, and all the mothers were schlepping their kids around as they did their shopping.  All the tables were already taken.  The only available seating was in the corner — two cushioned chairs with a large table in front.  An eleven year old boy was kneeling in front of the table, playing with a toy construction set, similar to the Erector Set I had when I was a boy.   There were dozens of metal pieces strewn all over the table.  His mother was seated elsewhere, gossiping with her friends.

I bought a cup of coffee and headed over to the chairs.

“Are you using this chair?” I asked the Kid, smiling at him.

“Yes,” he quickly answered.

I made note that he was kneeling on the floor.

“How about this other chair?”  I asked.

“I need that chair, too.”

“Why’s that?”

“I need a lot of SPACE!” he announced.  He went back to playing with his metal, a Donald Trump in the making.  He smashed the pieces together as if he was building a Transformer.

“Screw it,” I said to myself, and decided to go outside.  I would drink my coffee while sitting on top of my car.  Then I stopped.  What the hell was I doing?  This was an eleven year old kid!  I retraced my steps back to the Kid.  I leaned down to face him.

“You’re not using these chairs right now, and you can’t use both of them, so I’m going to take one of them, OK?”

I probably shouldn’t have asked his permission because it just made him more adamant.

“I need the space!”

Let me remind you that during this entire exchange, his mother didn’t even look over once.

“You can have your space,” I told the annoying Kid.  “But I’m going to take this empty chair and move it over HERE, so I can sit.”

“Fine!”

I slid the chair several feet away from the kid.   I sat and enjoyed my coffee.  The Kid went back to destroying his metallic city.  The mother kept on gabbing.

I was proud of myself.  I didn’t back down against my young, but worthy, nemesis.

It was a moment to remember.

Now, who’s going to take me on next?!

A Year Ago on Citizen of the Month:   Why I Write

The Great Interview Experiment

January 18, 2008 / / 859 Comments

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Note:  If you are interested in the 2009 version of the Great Interview Experiment, please go here.

This was V-Grrrl‘s recent comment on my last post about blogging awards, blogrolls, blah blah blah.

i am nobody
who are you
are you nobody too?

I know she was riffing on the somebody vs. nobody idea that I was writing about in the post, but I’m sure a lot of us think this way. For me, the Blogosphere was supposed to erase this old school, hierarchical type of thinking. It’s the reason I started to blog. I’m not a nobody online. The minute I posted my first post, I was a “published” writer. Even if my writing sucked. Even if my audience was one crazy guy from Ohio and my mother.

Gimmicks like Blog Awards are fun because it gives people a chance to socialize with each other, but the concept is mostly for old farts. It is as meaningful as the Oscars, mostly good only for self-promotion. The really best blogs will never be nominated because you don’t even know they exist. Besides, blogging is so much bigger than that, and works on a whole different level. The fascinating part of the medium is that I can write about my talking Penis and have some guy in Iran read my blog, and soon his Penis wants to talk, too! And then, his wife, hearing the sound of love, wants to overthrow the government! And because of one blog post, the whole world is filled with freedom and love and happiness! Now that’s inspiring. I’m all for your personal blog being all about you. That’s how I view my blog. But blogging is more than your own blog. It is the thrill of the freedom of expression, and the random and unlikely connections that we make with each other. And who can forget the importance of comments? Comments alone can MAKE a post interesting.

For two years now, ever since my brief stint writing about personal bloggers on Blogebrity, I’ve been complaining about how a combination of hierarchy, elitism, advertising, and plain old human insecurity will make the internet a less interesting place, especially to be a personal blogger lost in the loudmouth world of politics, celebrities, and product placement. Of course, as the blogosphere matures and becomes fragmented and cliquish, it is a losing battle. But, like the last Spartan warrior, I keep on fighting.

Did you ever notice that whenever some expert is being interviewed on Oprah or the Today show, the person just happens to have a book coming out the following week? It’s as it wasn’t important to tell us the cure for cancer until the guy’s book comes out, and then they don’t even tell you the cure so you have to buy the book. I’ve seen some bloggers being interviewed by other bloggers. It’s usually the same as it is on TV. Those interviewed are persons deemed “worthy” of being asked important questions about the world. They have a popular blog, a project coming out, or a specific expertise. We instantly find these people even MORE interesting because someone took the time to interview them. It’s like Obama’s campaign didn’t even start until Oprah sat down to talk with him. All of a sudden, everyone went, “Wow, she finds him interesting. He MUST be interesting.” I know most of you won’t agree with me, but I think anyone who decides to write about their life online is interesting, even those who may not do the best job yet of conveying that on paper. We all should be interviewed, at least once.

Here’s how it is going to work. The first person who comments on this post, will get interviewed by me. I will read the person’s blog, then email him ten or so specific questions, hopefully more about his life (what makes them tick) than their favorite blogger (too obvious! — me). I’ll give my interviewee as much time as necessary to answer the questions, but hopefully he’ll finish it by next week. There might be a back-and-forth if the person feel uncomfortable with a question, etc. or if I want to explore a topic further. Finally, when it is all written up, I will polish the draft, send it back, and the interviewee can proudly publish the interview on their own blog.

It doesn’t end there. While I am interviewing the first commenter, he will be interviewing the second commenter. The second commenter will be interviewing the third commenter. Each person should then put their own interview on their own blog, or on the interviewer’s blog, or both (your choice!), answering the questions as openly and honestly as he chooses. Not only will this give others a new way to know you, but we will sabotage the idea of an interview only being for “somebody.” Everyone is somebody.

Update:

If you leave a comment, you’re in…

I will keep on adding to the list of interviewers/interviewees. Theoretically, the list can just keep on going perpetually… There really is no specific deadline. Just think of me as the Jewish mother who will guilt you into doing it ASAP, so as not to be rude to the next guy.

Email me with any questions or if your interviewer flakes out, so we can re-assign you.

Here is a list of the completed interviews.

Technorati Tags: blogging, interviews, The Great Interview Experiment

The First Meal of 2008

January 2, 2008 / / 16 Comments

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I haven’t been very good at meeting up with New York bloggers while I’m in town.  I’ve been trying to spend more time with Sophia and my mother.  I’m also intimidated meeting New York bloggers in person, knowing how sophisticated and worldly they can be here.  New Yorkers all hang out at the same hip bars and know Sarah Jessica Parker personally.  And when I tried to pick up this sassy brunette in a Williamsburg coffee shop/art gallery/S&M bookstore by suggesting we grab a meal at the Olive Garden, she just laughed and cursed me in Greek.  Snob!

There is one beautiful blogger I had to see again before I left town — Tamar.  She was an important part of my 2007.  She actually spend REAL, not Monopoly, money to buy me  like a high class hooker in a V-day charity blogger auction.  105 dollars!  I wouldn’t pay that much for a date with me.  A few months later, Tamar showed some love for the other woman in my life, Sophia, when she sent her a very special healing bracelet to help Sophia through her surgery.

What better way to start January 1st than seeing Tamar?

One problem — Sophia and I are staying in Queens.  Tamar lives in Philadelphia.  We spoke on the phone, and came up with an eccentric, but amusing concept:  we would meet for lunch EXACTLY at the mid point between our two locations.  So, call the New York Times!, the three of us have found a new use for Google Maps — plotting the midpoint between two locations, which is — tadah! — some place I knew absolutely nothing about — beautiful New Brunswick, New Jersey!   So, guess where we met for lunch?

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A Year Ago on Citizen of the Month:  Happy New Year from the Tournament of Roses Parade, Pasadena

My Last Day of 2007 “Thank You’s”

December 31, 2007 / / 49 Comments

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looking back… 

Thank you, Tamar, for “buying” me in that charity blogger auction back in January.

Thank you, dear readers, for believing my version of the story about the purple bathrobe from college.

Thank you, all those who participated in the Valentine’s Day Emergency Hotline.

Thank you, the Times of London, for mentioning my humble blog.

Thank you, all those who convinced Sophia to “allow” me to blog during our road trip to Portland.

Thank you, Sophia, Danny, and everyone else who made this year’s birthday in March the best birthday I’ve ever had.

Thank you, those who showed us such a great time in San Francisco and Portland.

Thank you, all who came to the support of Sophia during her scary breast cancer surgeries this Spring.

Thank you for not abandoning my blog during the month I obsessed over the music of ABBA.

Thank you for your supporting my mission to save the small pigeon on my patio.

Thank you, for continuing to love me, despite my constant complaining about BlogHer, insulting Portland’s lack of diversity, falling asleep at classical concerts, sending cartoon images of my Penis to female bloggers, turning Irving Berlin into a foul-mouthed sex addict, and being so cheap that I buy ninety-nine cent shoelaces.

Thank you, kind souls, for your advice in helping me plan to achieve my lifelong dream — 50 States, 50 Women.  (someday!)

Thank you for your support as I took the big step this Fall and finally started therapy.

Thank you for participating in the Holiday Arts and Crafts Fair and the Blogger Online Christmahanukwanzaakah Concert.

Thank you, everyone, for making me laugh… and think… and sometimes, cry.

Thank you, Wendy, for our fabulous night out in Los Angeles seeing Wicked.

Thank you, Charming but Single, Finn, Brooke, SAJ, OMSH, Deanna, 180/360, Ash, Alissa, Ms. Sizzle, Pam, Schmutzie, V-Grrrl, Ninja Poodles, Heather B, Erin, Crazy Aunt Purl, Jessica, Dagney, Jurgen Nation, Nabbalicious, Whoorl, LVGurl, Psychotoddler, Leese, Pearl, and everyone else I had long personal conversations with this year online.

Thank you to all the wonderful people I met for the first time this year, such as everyone involved with Leahpeah’s Bloggers Live.

Thank you to all of the female bloggers I fell in love with this year (at least in my mind), even if it was only for a day.

Thank you, everyone, for allowing me to follow your lives on your blogs.

Thank you for letting me be your “friend” on Twitter and Facebook.

Thank you for letting me ogle you photos on Flickr and say things to myself like “Holy crap, who would have thought that some dull mommyblogger was so f***ing HOT!”

2007 was a stressful year for me, as it was for many of you.  There were illnesses and deaths in our midst.  I know of at least five bloggers who got divorced or separated this year.  Luckily, joy and happiness is always around the corner.  Some of you got married.  Some got promotions at work.  I even know one blogger who had her first orgasm in seven years!  What could be more hopeful than that?!

I hope 2008 is a wonderful year for all of readers of Citizen of the Month, filled with happiness, love, kindness… and of course… many, many orgasms.

My Fifth Grade Diary

December 27, 2007 / / 32 Comments

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A few months ago, I attended a reading of bloggers and writers reading from their teenage diaries. All of the participants were women. After the show, there was some discussion about diaries and gender. It seemed that every women had kept a personal diary in their youth, but hardly any men. Is this why women feel so comfortable blogging?

I told everyone that I never kept a diary. Writing for me was geared more for fiction than for self-exploration. So, you can imagine my surprise today when I found a diary in the back of my closet! I completely forgot about it. I wrote it in the fifth grade. Unfortunately, I lost interest in writing the diary after one month. I started it in January and ended it in February.

I’m not sure it is interesting to anyone, but what the hell — here’s the first week of entries. I found the second entry the most intriguing, for obvious reasons.

January 2nd

Today I went back to school. The day passed quickly. Today for some reason our teacher, Mrs. Mattis, brought 4 books, like pamphlets, called “What Should I Tell My Daughter.” It was about sex on the girls side. When I was home my Mom and a little bit of my Dad were bugging me about sex. All day my feet were killing me because of growing pains.

January 3rd

Today was a normal day. A rumor which was not true was that I showed my penis to my classmate, Freya. it started off with Tracey then went so forth. But many others have been having this trouble. My Hebrew school, regular friend, and ringolevio classmate said “Our class is the sexiest class in the school.” He’s right. My seat was changed from between Debbie and Freya to between Subha and Robert S. (Snipple). Larry was between Subha and Robert S. Now, he’s between Debbie and Freya. They all love each other.

January 4th

Today it was a normal school day. At gym we had dancing. Our class has more boys than girls so some boys doubled-up as a girl. I was one of them. A boy named Steven (spiderman) said to Barry (Eggy) who was dancing with a girl named Jamie, “Dancing with your girlfriend?” I was astonished when Barry said, “At least I can afford one.” Then me and Barry (Eggy) came home. I got a 100 in spelling.

January 5th

When I woke up this morning, I felt lousy. The day passed along slowly. At gym, I played like a zombie. One event, in gym, was when a girl named Sandra tagged her own man. A boy named Steven, who wants everything perfect, said to her, “Don’t tag your own man.” She thought he said “old man” not “own man.” She started to cry because her father died on my birthday. After school, I went to the eye doctor. My eyes got worse and I need new glasses.

January 6th

There’s been a problem. The lock on the diary just broke. I don’t even have time to write. I’m on the history committee on Mexico with Subha and Mahaan in school. Me and Mom bet on the first one who curses, yells or gets mad has to give the other person $1.00. Grandma came in 4th Place in a Reader’s Digest lottery. Mom says it’s a hoax. I say it’s true. I walked to school with a person I know but don’t know his name. At school, I helped a new girl named Sheri with math. The teacher told me to.

Portrait of a Blogger as a Young Man

December 21, 2007 / / 18 Comments

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I promised my mother that I would throw out some things that have been in my closet for years, but it is impossible.  How can I choose what to toss?   Who knows? — one day I might be called on to perform some brain surgery on a sick neighbor and I’ll need to practice on that old Operation! game board.  It was fun going through old school reports and yearbooks.  I found personal papers and writings that I haven’t seen in years. 

These two writing pieces made me chuckle.  I would have been a terrific grade school blogger!

Me!  by Neil Kramer
(This is part of a journal written in elementary school.  There were photos attached, but were missing.)

It was a nice but cold day on March 7th.  Then at 2:38 AM, a spectacular thing happened.  I WAS BORN.  This is me, Neil Scott Kramer, at four months old.  The hands holding me belong to my baba (as I used to call my mother at four months old).  Birth notices were sent out to relatives and friends about ME, like the one above.  I took this photo of my mother and father.  I take many pictures.  That’s only one of my hobbies.  Others I have are coins, stamps, comics, and magazine collections.  Astrology — I like it!  I am a Pisces.  My mother is a Libra.  My father is a Gemini.  I LOVE TV!

Here is picture of ME in school.  Look at the 4th Row, 3rd Person from the left in Mrs. Mattis’s class in P.S. 154, in Flushing, in Queens, in NYC, in NY, in the USA, in North America, in this world, EARTH.

An interesting fact about me! – 18 1/2 million call the New York/New Jersey area their home.  And without me, it would be ONE LESS!

Clearly, my literary brilliance came through at an early age.  Unfortunately, once I became a Freshman in college, my writing turned pretentious and filled with sexual cliches, much as it still is today.

Sue by Neil Kramer
(a story written in a Freshman “Creative Writing” Class at Columbia)

I’m sitting on the top of the balustrade that separates Central Park from the adjacent sidewalk that I face, waiting, hoping that Sue will pass.  Although she is nowhere in sight, many other lovely girls pass me by, and since today is a hot July day, which prompts these beauties to sail right in front of my eyes in various stages of semi-undress, the sporadic wafts of warm, summer air gently fluttering the fashionable, soft, cotton fabric of the females blouses into a massage of their protruding breasts, the wait is not unpleasant.

A young couple exits the movie theater across the street.  The female (25, perhaps?) wears the tight green shorts that Boy Scouts usually wear.  I wonder what effect the movie had on this couple.  I know that the film is about a love affair between two Resistance members, and the war’s toll on their lives.  Max Horkheimer, the Marxist intellectual of the Frankfurt School of Philosophy, said that art is the only proletariat spirit left in my generation’s lifetime.  Great art should make the persons appreciating art to strive to reach this ideal, that of making the world a better place to live.

“Do you think this has happened to that couple?”  I ask myself.

I laugh. 

WTF?  Max Horkheimer, who the hell was he?  And who is Sue?  There are several more pages of this short story/political manifesto, but you couldn’t pay me enough to publish the rest. 

Now, continue on with your repressive, advertiser-driven blogs, you fools, those of you who bow before the false idols of capitalism and Technorati, while I, a modern-day Max Horkheimer, lead on with my blog revolution!

I laugh.

Luck is Getting Three Chopsticks

December 19, 2007 / / 35 Comments

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Today, on the second day of my New York trip, I felt my luck changing.  Why?  Because we went out for sushi and when I opened my package of wooden chopsticks, there were three individual chopsticks inside.  Now getting three chopsticks seems as useless as three shoelaces in one package, but the waitress said that in her seven years of waitressing, she never saw this happen before, and said it was “for good luck.”

It is important to work hard and take chances, but let’s be honest with ourselves — there’s a lot of luck involved in life.    Sometimes, we just find ourselves in the right place at the right time.  I know there are some of you that think that everything is dependent on some “secret” or that God actually cares if you win the big game, but that’s insulting to the important concept of “LUCK.” 

Getting three chopsticks is pure luck. 

Unlucky is paying fifty bucks to take a romantic buggy ride through Central Park and getting stuck with a driver who spends the whole trip gossiping on her phone with her girlfriend from Brooklyn. 

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Unlucky is getting a modeling job where you have to sit around Rockefeller Center in your underwear… in late December.

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Unlucky is coming to New York to take a photo of your family in front of the “big tree,” not realizing that 1000 other families are also there, blocking your view.

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We had a nice day, so we were lucky.

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Feeling a Little Blue

December 18, 2007 / / 40 Comments

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Sophia, Flushing

I enjoy getting comments which read “Oh, Neil, that was so funny. You made me morning.” I like them so much, I hate bringing up times when I’m feeling a little down. I’ve only been in New York for one day, and while I should be absolutely joyous, I’m feeling sort of blue. I’m not sure if it is the bleak sky, the cold, or just missing therapy this week. Even seeing my Mom and eating the perfect bagels hasn’t broken me out of the rut.

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Bagels, Flushing

My screenplay pitch is still on the backburner while the writer’s strike continues. It is hard convincing yourself that you have the “greatest comedy story ever written” for more than a month before you start having doubts. There are a couple of big expense concerns coming up, and thinking about money makes me anxious.

On Monday, at LAX, we had a hour to kill before our flight, so I watched travelers running around, catching fights. It is big world out there, with so many countries and cities I want to see. Will I get to visit everywhere I want? Will I have the time? The money? Today, I found my old stamp collection in my closet. I had organized all of my international stamps into little envelopes titled France, India, Madagascar, etc. I must have been around ten years old. Some of the countries on the list, mostly African ones, don’t even exist anymore! I’m sure I dreamed of traveling to all of these places one day. Now, I’m less sure of myself. Maybe I won’t ever get to Madagascar after all! And that would be sad. Time is moving too fast.

Time also plays games with the mind. Although my mother had done a great job in redecorating the apartment in the last year, the memory of my father is still strong. Everywhere you look, there is a part of him, from his collection of slides he took in the army or massive collection of ties. His essence is here. While it is nice that his presence is felt, it is sad that he is not here in person.

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A familiar view from my old room while lying on the bed

I’m glad Sophia came along to New York. She’s always fun (except for the traveling by plane part where she brings too much luggage). Still, we are theoretically moving closer to the date when I will move out of the house. We both think it would be good to take a break and have some alone time. My therapist didn’t even think it was a good idea to travel to New York together, but what fun would it be without her? Sophia is sleeping right now, and I’m feeling all sorts of emotional ups and downs about our future.

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The confusion over our relationship has created problems for my sex life and my dreams are becoming more anxiety-ridden by the day. Last night, I combined all my fears about writing, Hollywood, and sex in to one big stew of bizarre dreaming:

In the dream, I had just spoken to this movie producer on the phone. The writer’s guild strike was still going on, so my pitch was postponed again. I needed to quickly make more money, so I looked in the newspaper. I ended up getting a job with a CSI crime unit. I was hired to be a special “closer.” My daily assignment: I would go down on a female suspect, and from her taste, I would learn all these facts about her. “She’s 32, runs two miles a day, and loves Cheerios,” I would say to the police captain as I lifted my head up from between her thighs. “She’s a graduate of Princeton with a B.A. in Religion and she is lying about hitting her husband over the head with that baseball bat.” My authority was never questioned and this Princeton religious studies graduate was thrown in jail for committing murder. Rather than feeling good about myself, I fretted about my “interrogation.” I had the nagging feeling that I tasted her incorrectly and put the wrong woman behind bars.

After this dream, I woke up with a terrible headache. And now there’s two more weeks without therapy! God help us all.

Tomorrow, we’re going to MOCA, and maybe meeting Tamar of Mining Nuggets for coffee (that is if she’s not afraid of me after hearing about my dream). Email me if you live in New York and know of some cool things going on or restaurants that you love.

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