Monday, August 30, 2010

On the Train Again...

I'm back on my regular route going back to the city. It's a 7am start, which I like better than a 7:30 because I get out a little earlier, but that also means I have to drag mein tuchas out of bed a half hour earlier too, and the snooze button is not my friend. I deliberately put my alarm clock on the other side of the room so I can't just hit the snooze, but I do it anyway, feeling myself being sucked back to the bed like a magnet. Well anyway, I did make my bus at 5:45, but I just got the last seat, and mine is the second stop. Will I get up even earlier to make the first, which is four blocks away? Possibly yes, probably no.

Oh dear how am I going to even get there? 5th Ave. and midtown... sounds like the F train with a long walk. I'm writing this with my tool backpack on my knees. That sounds like it should be a song. Now I'm sitting on the F-train with my tools between my knees... (second verse.)

All the people on the subway are fascinating, and I try not to stare. There's the woman whose giant unhappy face looks like it's glued together from giant slabs of meat, decorated with liberal amounts of lipstick and eyeliner that just can't possibly help. There's the muscular guy in bright tartan golf-shorts and sunglasses who's asleep with his arms folded across his chest looking as relaxed and comfortable as if he were sitting on his own couch in his living room. A balding woman with a lined face who has three or four shopping bags piled at her feet reading a newspaper that's falling apart in her hands and she's grabbing at the pages every few seconds without even thinking about it...

I'm at 21st St Queensbridge and every time the subway stops here I think of Neil Gaiman's Neverwhere when they have to cross... um... Kingsbridge? Knightsbridge? Is the Marquis hiding somewhere? I love how watching that BBC miniseries was like watching the old Doctor Who. The story was more important than whether they had enough money for special effects.

I almost don't notice time passing when I write on the subway. Maybe that's the secret to productivity? But then time also flies when I play Nethack...

Anyway, that’s all for now.


Sunday, August 22, 2010

More thoughts that keep me awake...

So... what did Charon need the coins for, exactly? Where did he spend them? Was there a mall of the gods? Did he have a girlfriend? Did he cry poverty every year and constantly raise his rates, like a mythological version of the NYC MTA? Any ideas?


Thursday, August 19, 2010

This Annoying Life...

Another fun-filled day has come to a close. I always feel like I’m whining when I say that I’m tired, but I AM tired. I feel it all the way from my skin through my muscles into my bones and up my spine to my dissolving brain. I feel like I’m a computer game that was meant to run on an i7 with 8 gigs of ram and a GeForce 480 that’s trying to clog along on a Pentium III. Do I have unrealistic expectations, or is there someone I can see about an upgrade?

After having been eradicated for fifty years, bedbugs are making a comeback in New York City. The reason? Because certain pesticides that kept them at bay have now been banned. The annoying thing is that any articles I read on the subject have an, “Oh well, we need to learn to deal with it,” attitude. Fuck that noise. So many things around us are destroying the environment, one more won’t make a difference. Bring those pesticides back. Now.

Here’s something else that annoys me. I read a few editorials today that state that one in five foolish, racist, and uneducated Americans (not my feelings, just the tone of the editorials) believe that President Obama is a Muslim. Here’s what pisses me off - and no, I have no idea nor do I care what religion the president is - I just hate the us vs. them mentality that our media thrives on fostering: The poll says “Do you happen to know what Barak Obama’s religion is?” It does not say, “What religion does President Obama say he follows?” Because there’s a big difference in having the personal belief that the president is a closet Muslim, and thinking that he is an openly practicing Muslim. The wording of the poll and the resulting smug editorials that followed seem to imply that anyone who thinks the former really believes the later, and has obviously had their brains thoroughly scrubbed by the sinister FOX conglomerate rather than being someone who has merely formulated an opinion.

So what’s annoying you today?


Wednesday, August 18, 2010

Blogging Through Banality

Hello my friends, I’m sorry that it’s been so long. I’m looking at the headlines for something to write about, and everything just seems so banal. I don’t care that Halle Berry is happy to run around naked, or that some star of some reality show I don’t watch is “criminally annoying,” or someone’s mother is sleeping with someone… I don’t know… In addition, I don’t want to hear any more about the mosque being built near ground zero, or how the MTA is crying poverty again or what imaginary numbers say the economy is/ isn’t recovering depending on who is slanting the news because overall it just sort of makes me feel powerless. No wonder people concentrate so much on celebrity idiocies.

I feel cooked after being out in the sun all day hauling bits of scoreboard (blocks with LED lights on them) with ropes and pulleys and constructing gantries and scaffolds. I wonder why so much of my life I’ve wound up doing things opposite of that that I’m suited for. Is it a subconscious desire to round myself out, or do I feel a need to prove something? OK, I know that I’m smarter than the average bear, but I can also fight off heat stroke while standing on top of a scoreboard, hauling up large bits of metal and fixing ballasts.

I may have mentioned this before, but I wonder how much the push for self esteem is forced consumerism. Due to books and TV shows and movies and commercials with little sad faces that look like illustrations in a Shell Silverstein book, I feel like I’m supposed to be happy and confident all the time, and that everyone else but me obviously is. So I need to buy a self-help book, (as the late great George Carlin said – if someone else wrote it, it ain’t self help!) or buy some sort of happy pill or do yoga, or something along those lines. I agree with Ayn Rand on the subject- self respect and self love comes from doing and being someone you can respect and love. But I also think that I just need to accept myself and stop imagining that everyone has their shit together but me. Our stools are all loose.

On that pleasant note, everyone have a pleasant night and a fun-filled tomorrow.