I hate wires

Have I bitched about this yet? I just can't deal with them. Everything on earth should be wireless. They're constantly getting tangled and knocking things over. It's my headphones that today -- and usually -- inspired my anger. This is absurd, I know. Sorry. It angers me. Infuriates even. Instant rage. OK, time to set that aside and prep for more drinking. I'm becoming QUITE the social animal again! I just hope there's no wires around me. It's a FINE last day of April!! Sunshine, pushing 80, free liquor, and dressed to impress...

Time to work on my bike...and OK, a last-minute RANT, too

Due to issues I won't get into, I've been forced offline in my house for the past 13 days. 13 DAYS!! But guess what? I've managed just fine. Between work, my parents', the library, a friend's house...i've managed to get online enough. And it's been LIBERATING. Don't get me wrong...I want the internet at home, and plan on getting it back ASAP. But life has gone on JUST fine, thank you. I haven't burst into flames. I haven't gotten the shakes. It's...yet again...an example of me dealing with a lemon and not making that big a deal out of it. MANY others would absolutely freak the fuck out and act like they're SO fucking important that they MUST have this issue fixed ASAP. Hmm, Dipshit comes to mind. But I digress. I'm fine, though. It helps, admittedly, that i've been busy. But still. Tonight I will begin tending to the used bike that has sat in my spare room since OCTOBER. Do the math...6 fucking months. Half a year. Just SITTING there. Ugh, I HATE that. I will get grease on my hands later and look forward to it! If the internet were operational, I guarantee I wouldn't go near the bike. I LOVE the internet, but I can spend far TOO much time on it, informational sponge that I am. Ahh, spring is finally here and I AM IN A GOOD MOOD! Thus concludes one of my Boring Blogs. At least I peppered it with the word FUCK.

**OK, last minute rant...what the FUCK is with both Donald Trump AND the Fox News Channel? It pains me to seem partisan, but the FNC is just so ridiculously anti-Rosie O'Donnell. They're on my last fucking nerve with their uptight, God-and-children-loving, middle aged white man, repressed, closed-minded fucking bullshit. And that includes you, too, Greta Van Susteren...well, fill in your own "she's practically a man anyway" joke. And Donald Trump...it didn't seem possible for him to be more pathetic and laughable than he was in Round One of his Rosie Feud...but he's wildly succeeded. And while Trump went ERRONEOUSLY on and on about THE VIEW'S "plummeting ratings" on about 15 different shows yesterday, not ONE anchor chimed in to note how 1) he was wrong and 2) how HIS ratings of THE APPRENTICE are actually the ones that have nosedived to the basement. Fucking clownish, fawning, sycophantic, uninformed, LYING asswipes, every one of them. UGH!!

SANJAYA!!

I met him! Don't let all my exclamation points lead you to believe I was shaking and weeping like some dumbass schoolgirl. It was merely another surreal moment in my life -- this 17-year-old whom i've mocked, yet felt sorry for, for 3 months, was suddenly before me. His hair dangled seductively toward his shoulders, his wispy mustache as intoxicating as ever. He smiled politely as he sauntered down the hall. And when he got by me, my powerful presence commanded his attention. Our eyes met. I opened my mouth. "Hi, how are you?" I so eagerly wanted to wrestle him away from his handlers and run away with him to a safehouse, where I could teach him The Truth over time and build up his cynicism and toughen him up. I resisted, settling for this brief run-in. Sanjaya DOES have manners. He opened his mouth in response to mine (suddenly this DOES seem like a gay porn beach read), flashed those pearly whites and said HELLO directly to ME. ME!!! Oh, SANJAYA!! Sweet, polite, terribly misguided Sanjaya. I genuinely wish him the best. If anything, I hope he's stocking away whatever money he's making. SanJAYA!!!!!!!!!!

Summer started this weekend

That's MY assessment of when we'll look back and say a certain seasonal line was crossed in 2007. It began on Friday. Hell, I could even argue...yes, I WILL argue Thursday evening, when it BEGAN to finally clear up and become mild...and I also went out and drank...for the 2ND Thursday in a row, mind you! It's been a good weekend overall. Rushed, often annoying, but ultimately productive and different. And the WEATHER! Not the most scintillating posting, I know, but I need to get to bed and just wanted to write SOMEthing. Spring HAS sprung. And mid 80s tomorrow!! NO JACKET to work...another seasonal first! Thank you, Lord, for this day -- I say that pretty much daily, you know...

The Virginia Tech Murders

Someone (and who are you?) was eagerly awaiting my "VT blog." So here I am, but I really don't feel that possessed to write something about it. I mean, what can I say that isn't trite? Well, actually, maybe that I feel like i'd be more FLOORED with horror if this happened a decade ago. This week, though, I was almost numb to the carnage. Post-September 11 and all. Not to mention post-Columbine. I hope I don't sound glib, but I was reminded of THE SIMPSONS episode where Bart and Lisa are at Itchy and Scratchy Land wondering if they're desensitized to violence as fake blood from a ride spurts unnoticed onto their faces.

I'm at once more sickened than ever, yet resigned to the horrors of this earth. If I dwell on it too long, it's just overwhelming in its brutality and sadness. Thirty-two people, most of them college-age with their lives ahead of them, didn't know that last Friday night would be their last on this earth. That last weekend would be their last to drink and hit the bars. To hang out, to hook up, to do what young people do.

These were beautiful people, inside and out. And now they're dead. For no reason. So I really don't KNOW what to say or think about that. OTHER THAN to add it to my mountainous pile of reasons to thank God for every moment I'M here. I can relish the frivolous minutae of a 2am trip to ShopRite, laugh my ass off at profane emails from friends, giddily anticipate the first warm weekend of Spring 2007. I'm very lucky. And if you're reading this, so are you.

I'd recommend seeking out pictures and stories of all those killed. You'd be honoring them, which is all anyone can really do. But you'd also be getting a swift, ugly reminder of how easily life can be snuffed out...and, knowing this, hopefully live YOUR life better.

Fresh back from ShopRite at 2:20am...

I went mainly to fetch $1.99 Turkey Hill ice cream. Why endure the idiot public tomorrow when I can go in the dead of night and be one of 4 people in the store? Of course, one DOES have to contend with the store shelf stockers at such an hour, but I don't mind them. They're doing their job in silence, i'm doing mine. I especially enjoy the extra loud music on at this hour. I loitered in the frozen food aisle long enough to hear ALL of Simple Minds' "Don't You Forget About Me," tapping my foot AND hand, even swaying side-to-side a bit. I yearned to hurl my frozen delight to the floor and recreate the video by busting a move, but I refrained. SHE SAID, LA, LALALALA. Christ, that song is such a classic. Every time I hear it, it's May 1985 again. Few songs are quite as evocative. Heavy sigh. WHEN YOU WALK AWAY...

Just back from Freehold...

A lovely time. Too short, but pretty sweet. Now the big question is the usual...CAN I maintain my sanity at my parents' while I OH, SO PATIENTLY wait for my laundry to finish? WILL my entire day be ruined by the MADNESS that is, as always, ensuing around me as I write this? It's not humor, exaggeration, blowing things out of proportion, me being an asshole. ANYone would wanna scream profanities and smash things if they had to endure what I do all too regularly. If people think I'm high strung and impatient, they really have NO fucking idea how often I go into PSUEDO-ZEN mode and keep things from exploding. Because I have EVERY right to just scream SHUT THE FUCK UP!!!!!! right now and break things into pieces. Really, honest, any reasonable person would be justified. But I need to get my laundry done. And I need to maintain pleasant parental relations. I WANT to maintain pleasant parental relations. I hold the key to things spiraling out of control into absolute bedlam. Not just tonight, but in general. It is MY patience that holds the key here. I'm teetering on the edge, but I MUST maintain a somewhat pleasant "tone" around this madness...until the laundry's done, lol. FUCKING LAUNDRY!! Hmm, I really DO need to look into how much it is to do at a laundromat...it may finally be worth it. Yes, MANY things need to change...and slowly are. But enough of all this. I really AM in a very good mood. And, actually, as i've been writing this, The Madness has calmed down. And my laundry's in the dryer now! Ahh, was nice to be Down The Shore...kinda...however briefly...

Great Day

1) Dipshit was chastised via handwritten note taped to the front door re: his parking in the driveway...thus publicly shaming him. Had me grinning all the way to work.

2) Was in the same room and 5 feet or so from President William Jefferson Clinton...for more than an hour. Yes, our eyes met. Historic.

3) Downed 7 beers with new coworkers...laughing, bonding, picture taking, networking in that "I'm drinking with y'all!" way.

This is in chronilogical order, it should be noted. THE PRESIDENT!!!!!!!!!!!!!

The Imus Insanity

Stupidity.
Blown wildly out of proportion.
Hypocrisy.
Double standards.
Media hyperbole.
Fanning the flames.
Earnest head-nodding.
No one tells the truth.
Better keep that to yourself.
What's the societal barometer?
How can we manipulate this?
Picking and choosing.
Pandering.
Race baiting.
Everyone has an agenda.
Money and profit.
Shades of gray nonexistant.
Naive and impressionable.
Toughen up.
Wake up.
Wake the FUCK up.
Read between the lines.
A slow news week.
ENDLESS stupidity.

A cold, snowy Easter...ok, just some flurries...

But still winterlike. In fact, if memory serves correct, Easter was colder than Thanksgiving OR Christmas. Brrrrrr. Only around 40, breezy, occasional snow flurries. Very odd. Throw in the fact that we went to my cousins' for the first time -- where we spend Thanksgiving -- and the fireplace was burning like it was November...well, it was just strange. A strange Easter. Oh, yes, and of course the fact that I skipped mass for the second year. I enjoyed some red wine alone out on the chilly deck, watching the still-bare skinny trees sway. My brother and I also took a lovely pre-party excursion along a winding, creek-sidelined road, and over one-lane bridges, the bro getting out to read the historical sign on the general store, me reading the 1851 one-room schoolhouse marker from the window. Very spontaneous of the bro...after I merely said I "always wondered what's that way" after we turned down the usual street. "That way" meaning if we kept going and didn't make the turn. VERY exciting!! I LOVE rambling sightseeing! So it was a lovely day. Now it's Easter Monday and i'm tired. Didn't sleep well, did a lot today. Time to start prepping...slowly...for bed. I DO mean slowly.

Let's dye easter eggs!!

I was guilt-tripped into quickly coloring a dozen eggs tonight. By mom. I didn't have to do it. But she was already saying "it's a shame" that I likely wouldn't make mass tomorrow. Can you imagine? Meet my mother, Marie Barone. It's a SHAME?!?! Is she kidding? It's not even worth any anger beyond an eyeroll. It's funny how the worst part of Easter always for me was going to mass. At least on Christmas, we always went Xmas Eve. I'm sorry, but mass just screws up the entire day. And I felt that way when I LIVED there. If I go NOW, i've got the added aggravation of being STUCK at my parents' for, oh, about FOUR extra hours than I would be normally...as we wait till 4ish to leave for my cousins' for dinner. It's just too much hanging around there for me. And I'd be twitching and aggravated beyond belief by the time we left. I'm not being harsh. It's just reality. And it'd be reality for a majority of people who THINK i'm being harsh if THEY were in my situation, so SHUT UP!!

And so the years-old easter egg "kit" was layed out on the counter, but the instructions were punched out, and we were both having Senior Moments -- we couldn't remember if you mixed the vinegar with cold water, boiling water, or a mixture of both...despite doing this our entire lives. Mom went online to figure it out. Somewhere in this time frame of me trying to read between the holes in the packaging, I figured I'd just do it myself. I even had my coat on to leave. But I stood there, coat on, for at least 20 minutes, mixing a whopping 3 colors onto 12 eggs, and even putting both a "mom" and "dad" sticker on 2 of them. Like Martha fucking Stewart. I think it was equal parts wanting to save mom some time and nostalgia. It was a rushed, half-assed job, but I got it done. NO, I did NOT want to write all our names on the eggs in crayon before coloring them...or draw crosses and bunnies or other religious/springtime symbols...but thanks, mom, for asking. When she asked this, I was sure my aneurysm was finally coming, but I kept it at bay. Maybe she'd like me to write each Station of the Cross on the eggs?

It was just another of those increasingly frequent moments where I'm aware of how BLOODY bizarre my ENTIRE family is...I'm a grown man being guilt-tripped into dyeing easter eggs and attending Easter mass. Like i'm 17. Rituals and traditions that YEARS ago passed for others are still being practiced in OUR house. It's comforting in a way...yet very, very odd. My peers are coloring eggs for their KIDS, and I'M doing it still for MOMMY. It's all so borderline PSYCHO. "Mother!!"

And the weird thing is that I really DON'T respond to the guilt in the way that I'm sure it seems. I'm NOT going to mass tomorrow. It just AIN'T happening. In a way, I'd like to...not for Jesus, but for the TRADITION of it, for maybe seeing an old grammar school or town friend, for seeing who's there and what they're wearing, for strutting down the center aisle in a cocksure manner as I go to receive The Body of Christ...everything BUT religion. But, as I said, it's too early and it's too much running and waiting around. Logistics, baby, logistics. I'll go again some Easter Sunday, but not this year. I didn't go last year, either. But I have enough guilt...genuine guilt. Something as stupid as mass doesn't require my guilt. It's like life's battles -- you gotta pick the worthy ones to fight. If you're smart. You canNOT be a grown man or woman and CONSTANTLY worried about what Mommy or Daddy would think. By the way, the eggs look WONDERFUL! Now we DON'T still hide them. We're not THAT bad. Surprisingly.

Guess whose head i'd like to take an aluminum bat to?

That's right, DIPSHIT. A Good Friday, it's NOT been. I've dealt with him for exactly 24 hours now, and i've NEVER been closer to violence. He came home with his "stomach not feeling right." This happens ungodly often...fucking little pussy. And yet he was well enough to giggle at God knows what for hours on end in his bedroom, as I sat here in the living room listening to him. Those who know him can imagine this giggle...HE, HE, HE, HE in his whiny, Jay Leno-esque, nails on fucking chalkboard voice. I also had to endure his phone calls, TV, and general PRESENCE. Being the day Christ died, he's naturally off today. So the PURE HELL has continued. HE IS IN MY FUCKING WAY, COMPLETELY interrupting my personal feng shui. *Side note...i'm still waiting for him to clean his pot of rice from last night. It's fossilizing more by the hour as it sits on the counter, unaided by water and soap. He's covered it, though...I guess his way of warding off BUGS and, um, my SEEING it?? The icing on the cake that precipitated this blog was, as it often is, his OBSESSION with 1) talk fucking radio and 2) leaving his goddamn door open. I'm trying to tend to personal finance matters, engage in various online activities, AND watch DALLAS...and I have to hear his radio on...and, yes, HE, HE, HE every now and then. CLOSE your fucking door!! JESUS FUCKING CHRIST, I canNOT stand competing TVs and/or radios!!!!!!! As I write this, he's turned it off...could he possibly be getting the fuck out of the house? For the record, I'd like to get out of the fucking house, too...but I have nowhere pressing to go. And will God grant me the pleasure of him leaving tonight for Easter? Or must I endure him until Holy Saturday? OK, I'm done. I HATE that I have to waste precious time slamming him, but it gives me the SLIGHTEST bit of personal satisfaction. Now HOP home to mommy, Dipshit, and have a splendid fucking Easter!

EXASPERATED in my search for an even-writing, non-blotchy MOTHERFUCKING PEN!!!

Yes, I am RAGING against writing utensils now! I am someone who keeps diaries, who keeps exceedingly detailed daily planners, who captions photo albums. I am ALWAYS writing...and I am WEARY of spending extra time writing because the fucking pen fades in and out or, worse, occasionally spills too much ink out, causing a big ass ink blotch. I bought a package of four Bic Atlantis pens at Kmart like 2 weeks ago, courtesy of my birthday gift card. The package promised "smoother" writing. Fuck that! They're WORSE than other pens I have. I am IRATE! WHY is this such a problem?!?!?! WHY?!?! Why does even finding a nice-writing PEN on this earth have to be such a goddamn, motherfucking chore?!?! A PEN! I am enraged over a PEN!! I want to write ONCE...and have the output be smooth, even, and non-ink-splattered. Can anyone recommend a good pen? Or is this yet more evidence that I'm an increasingly crazy eccentric who desperately needs to be medicated?

America voted...aaaaaaand (not that it's important) again proves its stupidity

I DO speak of AMERICAN IDOL. Why i'm even blogging about it is beyond me. I'm just in such a torpor, I guess IDOL provided today's maximum stimulation. Though I actually thought this Sanjaya fool was pretty good (relatively) this week. Still, though, he should've been gone ages ago. And HOW he wasn't even in the bottom three is mind-boggling. And Haley should've been the one to go tonight. She's just deadly dull. Here's who SHOULD be in the Final Four...Blake, Melinda, LaKisha, and either Chris or that teenage chick whose name escapes me -- and I don't have the patience to seek her out online. It's a tough call, that final slot. The chick has a voice, but so does Chris...but he's more marketable. FINAL TWO should be Blake and Melinda. You know what, though, I've wasted far too much time on this ridiculous blog topic. Oh, a final note...everyone SOBBING at the show's end. No one died, people. Ugh.

Bryant Park strolling

My new thing is to actually walk slowly through Midtown on the way home from work. My definition of "slowly" is still swift to most. It relaxes me. No race to get home. Now I make sure to stay on the edge of the sidewalk...out of people's way. ALWAYS mindful of that! Walking through Bryant Park, though, my pace becomes glacial. Greenery off 42nd Street! Times Square dazzles me like i'm an Iowa tourist seeing it for the first time. Seriously, I never tire of staring up at it all. I love standing on that TINY sliver of sidewalk in the middle of traffic at night, dazzled by all the competing lights. My fondness for tall buildings remains as strong as when I was a little kid. New York is enchanting me again.

Helen

Cancer robs us of another life. Helen was a neighbor of mine...well, my parents...used to be mine. Known her for 24 years, yet didn't really KNOW her until the past four. I'd mow her lawn, cut her bushes, occasionally help out with other little things. I never asked for money. It's not why I did it. But she'd always insist on paying me. Two years ago, she gave me $140 worth of transit checks because she stopped working and didn't want them going to waste. I'm still shocked thinking about it. There were four $35 checks. ONE would've been obscenely generous. My eyes widened as each of the other three revealed themselves. She'd bring me something to drink, too, when it was blazing hot out and I was sweating in her yard. Or even not sweating. And we'd chat about how i'm keeping busy, what's new in the nabe, her health. She's had cancer for years, but always beat it. I have much more to say, but it's 1am and I have work tomorrow, so i'll edit this blog tomorrow night and add onto it. Sorry for the abruptness. Peace.

An April Fool, I'm Not!

I can't believe it's April. One-fourth of the year is shot to hell. I say this shit all the time...but it's always amazing. I DO think April is a time of assessment, in terms of how your year is going compared to the way you felt on New Year's Eve. I may have written the same shit last year. I'm actually fairly happy...fairly. A TON of chaos and stress...but things are starting to settle. Kinda. Fuck this analysis. It IS undeniable, though, that my State of Zen has been pretty robust the past week...coinciding with the longest stretch in ages where I haven't seen my parents. Is that awful? The correlation is beyond clear, but I've always known this. I'll say it a million times...AVOIDANCE IS KEY. At least for ME, in MY life. My parents, Dipshit, the general public. If i'm stressed, or even if i'm NOT, all their ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba-ba banter raises my blood pressure in seconds. The key is to BE ALONE. I had a passing thought last night that I should get rid of my cell phone...and not get another one. I'm still hung up on last night's events. But it was good...a lesson learned. NEVER again will I hang in a bar under those circumstances. I know what I like, and I will not endure patience-testing social situations just to "be social." This has been another rambling blog. I had nothing special to say. Merely wanted to note it was April Fool's Day and tried to put a clever spin on it in my title. Went from there. Nothing genius, to be sure. I could also say how I certainly wasn't FOOLish at ShopRite tonight...more great buys. I also went up on the roof this afternoon to usher in April. March was crazy. April will be even better. I'm done. Carry on with your day.