Category: Life

  • ODDS and ENDS: Farewell Dele Alli, Spring Time, and The Gym

    (Just some sketches of ideas.)

    This past week, during the transfer window in the Premier League, Tottenham made some moves – trading, loaning and acquiring players. In all the action, Dele Alli went to Everton. I know that Dele hasn’t been playing his best since he came back from injury, which meant his days were numbered, but still, I did feel bad to see him go. When I first started following Tottenham, it Fall 2015, it was Dele’s first season with the Spurs, so I felt like we came into the league together. (Yes, I know that makes no logical sense.) I hope he gets back to form, and does well at Everton.

    Well, it happened to me this morning when I was taking the kid to school. It was raining and 37 degrees, and soon the City is going to be iced over, and I said the words, “I can’t wait for Spring.” Sure, it’s freezing out, and I bet we’ll get a blizzard before the seasons is done, but I am now ready for it to warm up. If you aren’t sure, around July 4th is when I will start saying how excited I will be for Fall. And you know, I like this cycle. I like to know that at the moment I get feed up with a season, the change isn’t far away. I like the rhythm of it all. Even the rhythm of the complaining.

    I still haven’t gone to the gym yet. I have been paying on a membership for two months, still haven’t used it. Go Me!

  • My Little Apartment

    I just might spend my whole life in this little Harlem apartment. As funny as that sounds, this is a new thought for me. I have lived in this apartment for fourteen years, and I have always thought that one day, we would leave this place for another apartment, or miracle of miracles, a house. This apartment was always seen as a stepping stone to something else.

    But you know what… after fourteen years, I think I am coming around to see that this apartment is my home, and I will always have this place as my home.

    Sure, it’s tiny. In fact, it is very tiny. Two little bedrooms, a small kitchen, an even smaller bathroom. Two adults, a kid and a dog live in its confines, and if you add one more adult in the space, the apartment feels over-crowed, like it will explode, but what you are actually feeling is the anxiety of people being on top of each other.

    Yet, we are next to two subway lines. And a park. And a library. The kid’s school is walking distance and it’s a pretty good school. We like our neighbors in the building, and a police and fire station aren’t too far away either. We have made the apartment cozy, and each person has their own space to relax.

    Just wish we got more sunlight in the place.

    Maybe we might get a place upstate. Maybe a small farm house with a root cellar, and a place we can put all of our books. Maybe have enough land for the dog to run, and an old fieldstone wall cutting through the property. Maybe, one day.

    But in my little apartment, we have marked the kid’s height on the wall. The apartment is near a grocery store, and a place where me and the wife can get a dozen oysters on the half shell, and a pretty decent dirty martini.

    Maybe I will stay her forever after all.

  • ODDS and ENDS: Nor’easter, and Submitting

    (You know the drill…)

    First of all, Nor’easter is just a fun word to say. Imagine my surprise that when I moved to NYC in 2006, that a Nor’easter was a real thing, and not some old timey word that people pull out when they would try to be funny by acting like an old man. Such as, “Der’s gold up in dem hill, der.” Or, “Da nor’easter of twenty aught four froze dem chickens right, they did.” Anyway, a Nor’easter is coming tonight/tomorrow, and I am as excited as a little boy for the snow. Any snow on the ground still makes me feel like I am receiving a wonder gift.

    I did it yesterday; I submitted a story to a magazine. And I can admit that I rushed it. Rushed in the sense that I have now become eager to get started. I need to do something, get action, and not sit around rereading, editing, researching magazine and lit journals. So I sent out a story yesterday evening, knowing full well that I will be rejected. I’m not being negative, only realistic. Every writer will tell you that you encounter “no” more often than “yes.” And, I didn’t read any back issues of the journal I sent to, which I know is a little bit of a sin. BUT, if I am going to receive 1,000 no’s before I receive one yes, then I need to start knocking some no’s out of the way. One down, 999 to go.

  • Feeling Off Today (Unedited)

    The day feels off. In fact, it felt a little off right before I went to bed.  Then in the middle of the night, the kid woke me up, which was right after midnight, so it was like the day did in fact start with an issue. I think the kid needed to blow her nose. That was the problem I was tasked with solving. Which I did, and then put her back to sleep.

    And since then, it’s really been off.

    I got back to sleep but never really fell into a deep sleep; I was always aware that I was just barely asleep.

    So, this morning has felt off. And I have felt frustrated.

    I rewrote my cover letter for submitting, but I haven’t been able to shake the nagging voice which keeps telling me that this is a big waste of time, and nothing will come of it.

    And as I was researching literary, again the thought of failure keep coming at me. That, again this is a futile exercise. That I don’t know enough. That I don’t belong. That That That…

    It’s exhausting constantly fighting with myself.

    I know being tired doesn’t help, but I think I need to admit that I am a little afraid too. I’m afraid to fail. I’m also afraid to be laughed at. I’m afraid too because I have nowhere to hide. In theatre, I had a character or a puppet to hide behind. With my stories, it’s all me, and that’s putting the fear in me. I feel exposed.

    But, I don’t like feeling worthless either. Not having a goal, something to work towards, is a pretty awful feeling as well.

    Gotta push through it.

  • You Had the Win

    This isn’t about sports, though it was a crazy sports weekend.

    I am currently doing my laundry, and as happens sometimes, a dryer ate someone’s quarters. The guy who lost his quarters, asked to get his money back, and an argument ensued between him and the people who run the laundromat. The details don’t matter other than, at the end of the argument, the guy got his quarters back.

    But…

    When the guy got his quarters back, he proceeded to scream and yell that the people who run the laundromat, calling them scammers, and that they can’t be trusted, and are garbage. Which caused the people who run the laundromat to accuse the man of the same thing, and they just kept yelling at each other.

    The thing that I can’t wrap my head around is that the guy who got his quarters back won. He didn’t need to say anything else, he got what he wanted. But he had to spike the ball. He had to push it. He had to make things worse.

    Sure, some people can’t help themselves, but man…