Today seemed long.

There were more fireworks last night. Can someone tell me why, or at least tell me where I can find info on all the random fireworks displays so I can go to one?
I went to get a burrito last night, and they were playing a DVD of Fight Club on the TV by the register. In spanish.
I finished my first book of pictures today. I'll have a copy of it next week to see if it's worth trying to sell to people, or if this print company is as crappy as I think they are.

Twenty years.

I remember where I was exactly 20 years ago today. Well, not exactly 20 years to the day since I'm not sure how much time passed between when the Chernobyl disaster happened, and it was reported by the Soviets. But the night I found out, I went to see Youth Brigade at some Penn frat in west Philly. While drinking 40s on the porch of some house down the block with Cammy and Lara, a teacher from my school saw me and gave me a huge, perfectly rolled joint. I remember George and Andrew and maybe Jed and Greg were there too, along with the skate punks, both real and not, from my soon-to-be-ex school. It rained on and off throughout the evening, and I kept telling people it was radioactive rain. Anyway, that's where I was. Where were you?

Walmart is the largest private employer in Mexico.

There has been a police chopper hovering in my neighborhood for about 20 minutes. I just fucked up a whole bunch of picture files. I stayed out very late last night. Mostly I just sat back and laughed. I have to go get some food, and go to bed early. It's still cold.
Unrelated picture to follow:

Weather update.

It's been raining all day, getting heavier throughout the night. Just wanted to through that out there because I don't really feel like writing anything else. I've been cold all day from the damp and the wind and the "no heat in springtime" rule, and productivity goes down in those conditions. I feel like I've wasted a lot of time, and I'm wasting more now, and I have officially lost the ability to remember the current day of the week.

Oh joy!

I just heard, at two minutes to midnight, the doorman union agreed to extend their midnight strike deadline. We can all sleep easy tonight.

Random fireworks.

Once again, there was a fireworks display somewhere over lower manhattan, and I don't know why. If it's for my birthday, they're a little early. I heard someone use the word "fungible" on the radio. I like that word. My former boss is reading this thing, so watch what you say from now on if you still work there. We're in the middle of a mumps epidemic. Can I get a vaccine for that? I'm glad that Duke rape thing is making people rethink the importance of college athletics.

I haven't had a dream about work in days.

However, I've been trying to get a doctor appointment for days, and no one at the medical building complex where all the doctors are seems to be able to help me. I'm probably going to have to go up to 96th street just to take a piece of paper from one desk, to another desk about 100 feet away. Then leave. Once again, a record it keeping me distracted. Today it's PCPPEP. Here's a picture.

Take this job...

I have turned in my key, and relinquished my position at the establishment where I was working three nights a week for a number of years. For the money, it really wasn't worth the trouble any more. I'll certainly miss regularly seeing a few people. I will not miss others. It was a list I made a while ago, and updated frequently. I now have lots of free time. Time for free activities.

Music is saving me (or, an exorcise in patience).

It's that feeling again. Unsteady. Shaking just a bit, like from hunger, coming in waves set off by the usual things; a song, a name, a picture, a look back. And a stabbing pain that pinpoints the exact spot in my colon where my colitis is. Relationships are relationships, and that sounds so cliché, or just obvious, but it's more than just that romantic kind, though there's no feeling quite like the destruction of that one, but you can get sick from any of it. It might be best to look at them all under the same microscope, or magnifying glass, or maybe just the naked eye because you don't want to get too close. That same limbo, just hanging suspended waiting to say what you need to say or just an action that speaks louder, but you won't get that opportunity for days, and treading water can get tiring, but it's something to do to mask the shaking.

Weekend part three.

Playing dress-up in my $5 thrift-store suit, (isn't it kinda creepy when a thrift-store suit fits you perfectly?) Jed and I took the rental car to the main line. The wedding was in some kind of Jewish restaurant. I didn't really want to hold that thing up over their heads because the only other wedding I was involved in resulted in bitter divorce, and maybe I'm bad luck, so I said I'd take pictures instead. I felt bad for my parents being stuck at the I-don't-know-where-to-seat-these-people table, but they handled it well. We stopped at George's childhood home on our way back into town because I just had to see it after 20 or so years. After giving the newlyweds a minute to recover, we picked them up at the hotel, and what was supposed to be a quick, quiet bit to eat turned into four hours at Dirty Frank's. A guy named Mike, who looked kinda like a viking, tried to befriend us, but somehow we insulted him, and he moved on to the next booth to tell some russian guys that we hurt his feelings. For some reason, my pals decided to wash down their pitchers of beer with Jagermeister, or maybe it was the other way around. I realized how drunk everyone was when Jed was having trouble re-identifying the girl that threw-up in the sink next to him while he was taking a piss. I also realized that when we're all together, we make our own environment around us that's different from any other, and I never laugh so hard. After last call, a regular overheard us, and turned out he knew a whole lot of people we knew. Lot's of, "Wait! Do you know...?" Standing on the corner outside the bar, deciding where to go next, Mike the viking was in the middle of 13th street about to fight some other guy from the bar. They were doing that taking-off-peices-of-clothing-to-get-ready-to-fight thing. When we finally made it to Little Pete's for a bite to eat, George remarked that those guys were still in the middle of the street, naked from all the clothes shedding.

Weekend part two.

Saturday afternoon found Jed and me watching my father's 30th anniversary of Born to Run DVDs while we waited for the rest of the guests to materialize. We eventually landed in the stuffy, sedate hotel bar where George and Jennifer were staying. They definitely didn't like us there right from the start, and Danielle sending back her martini didn't help. Once George set off a small explosive charge, it was clearly time to move on. Saturday night was full of frat boys on the date-rape prowl, and their would-be prey, so hotel lounges were a somewhat safer goal. We found one that didn't seem to mind us throwing the complimentary snacks into an expensive vase and each other's mouths, and clearly looking for something to steal, but Danielle apparently had a goal of sending something back at each stop. Thinking we were being responsible adults, we all said goodnight at a reasonable hour to "get to the chapel" on time the next morning. It sorta worked.

Why my boss is like every failed relationship I've ever had rolled into one.

Can not communicate.
Can not confront a situation that might be the least bit uncomfortable for her.
Thinks everything I say is a personal attack on her.
Forgets important discussions we've had because she's too drunk.
I stayed in the relationship far too long.

That's really all that applies, but I swear if there was a way to cheat on me, she'd do that too.

Anyone?

Can someone help me stop dreaming about work? It wouldn't be so bad if I got paid for it. I know. I have to find something else to dream about.

Weekend, part one.

After starting off with the gang hanging with my folks, all but me drinking giant, vodka martinis, being grown-ups with the grown-ups, we set out to find last call. Philly has certainly expanded its weekend party zone from the confines of the east end of South Street, so we didn't have far to go. We sat at a sidewalk table until a request to leave was met with some belligerence from Jen, then retired to the park. We sat by the bronze goat, and gave some kids dressed for an 80s party a hard time. While getting something out of the car (parked in the conveniently placed handicapped spot across from my folks house) we heard the sound of crashing plate glass, followed by five or six kids running down 20th street. We knew we had to leave, slowly as to not appear guilty, so we ended up in the back yard until 4am, when Jennifer and George drove back to George's family home, Jed crashed in what used to be the "studio," and I slept in my childhood bedroom. We can still make it seem like no time has passed, even when it's been ten years.

Snow in april.

Shame.

I used to do things, even in public, that I'd be too self-conscious to do now.