Assessing the Quest (Day 13)

Today is a beautiful Saturday in New York City. There is a crisp wind cooling everything down, but enough sun to allow New Yorkers to wear shorts and a t-shirt. Of course with weather like this, I find myself inside thinking and writing. And the funny thing is, I could not be happier right now. I mean almost two weeks ago, I decided to take a step back and gain some perspective about my life. And so far, I cannot believe that I spent so many of the last couple of years living it the way that I did.

Now, I do not want to overstate this life change and thus trivialize anything that I did in the past because I do not regret a single thing that I have done in my life up until this point. I truly believe you have to live your life in order to figure out your life. As well, for most of the past couple of months/years, I have had a pretty solid grasp on my life as it was not until just recently that things got wickedly out of control. Also, I do not want to continue to harp on this issue and constantly correlate not drinking or whatever to my new found take on things. It certainly has something to do with it, but there are many other factors including the fact that I also stopped being a self-loathing son of a bitch... (It could also do with the fact that I just sniffed glue... that was a joke people)

Additionally, I do not want to become one of those "high and mighty" types who frowns upon people that live their lives differently than I do now or constantly preaches about sobriety as the answer to the meaning of life and/or the Secret of Nimh. I will never do that because people find happiness and are comfortable in their own skins through their own paths in life and I find it to be the definition of hypocrisy for another human being to tell someone else how to live their lives... That is why I cannot stand Born Again Christians, but that is another story for a different day...

Moreover, there is nothing wrong with a little indulgence as long as it is not the only thing that you live for. In my case, it was quickly becoming the only thing that I lived for as I began to planning my daily life around being able to drink five to six beers each evening. I remember sitting at work thinking about getting home as soon as I could so that I could go to the store and get something to drink. While running, I would think about how quickly I could get back to the house so that I could crack that first beer.... I am not kidding! This is all I wanted to do. It got to the point where I would experience withdrawal/anxiety about drinking to the point where I could not sit still, and my heart would simply pound like it wanted out of my chest.. And that is what scared me about all of this... I mean I love a good beer, but I should not need a good beer in order to live a normal life...

Further, I am sorry to those close to me that I never truly discussed this issue with and thus kept you in the dark. You know exactly who you are and I wish I had handled it all very differently. But I truly was in denial about my own reality, and there is nothing I could have done about that state of my existence. Just remember that without you, I would never have figured this out and I will be forever grateful for that...

Finally, I am not unfurling some banner and declaring Mission Accomplished just yet. (I know I used that as the title for one of my entries, but that was just for making it through the weekend.) I am on a very strange ride right now, one that I will continue to struggle with, learn from, and work on each day... and I am truly uncertain as to where at the end of the day, I will end up....

But for now, I am happy... and that is all I ever really wanted...

Taking One On The Chin

A quick follow-up on the softball game from Friday night, we lost. My team this year has exhibited moments of offensive brilliance in one game and then moments of offensive inability in the next game. Last night was one of those moments of offensive inability as we could not get anything going. Couple this fact with an opponent who was more than proficient behind the plate, and we never stood a chance. I really wanted to win, but I can honestly say that we lost to a far better team who outplayed us in every facet of the game. I tip my hat to those guys.

And to my team, I thank them for a great season. It was nice to be part of a team again, and I had a shit load of fun. Respect.

The Agency America Really Needs

My buddy, Bob Jingle, appears to be threatened by my current posting frequency, or maybe, he is just jealous and has blogger envy. For the record, this is not the first time in our lives that he has wanted to be as cool as me... I mean I remember when we were little, and I used to kick his ass at basketball... He would always cry and run home... Oh wait, that was me....dammit... Whatever the case maybe, I did not want to disappoint him and fail to post....

So today, I take on a crisis that has gripped our society and warrants national attention....

I was in my favorite store today, DU-ON Re-DAY, when I realized that George W. Bush is really missing the boat with his focus on the war on terror. Now, I know what you are thinking, HERE WE GO AGAIN with another "anti-Bush, Iraq is wrong" rant... and while, I would love at some point to address a foreign policy that is shamefully disguised as a type of "What Would Jesus Do" quest for the betterment of the World in order to mask the true motives of hubris, greed, and manipulation, I believe that there is a bigger problem that faces America on a daily basis that President Bush seems oblvious to... Shocking I know...This is a problem that I hinted at in my Rooster piece but failed to properly flesh out... And that is why I am now writing and asking that President Bush immediately create, "The Department for the Control, Limitation, and Containment of Holiday Decoration, Sales, and Promotion" or DCLCHDSP for short.

I mean why in God's name is Duane Reade selling Halloween shit in the middle of August? Are they concerned that October 31st is going to sneak up on people? Is there suddenly going to be an epidemic that erases the concept of time from the minds of all of mankind? Or do people need that much time to properly plan for holidays? Moreover, this marketing scam is not simply limited to Halloween because you know that as soon as we get near Halloween, Thanksgiving merchandise will come out, followed by Christmas stuff into New Year's, then Valentine's Day leading to Easter and then onto GOD ONLY KNOWS WHAT OTHER HOLIDAY THEY ARE GOING TO FIND IN ORDER TO MAKE SURE THAT THE AMERICAN PUBLIC IS PREPARED JUST IN CASE THE CALENDAR SUDDENLY SKIPS AHEAD TWO FUCKEN MONTHS WITHOUT NOTICE...OR ALL THE STORES ARE CLOSED FOR FOUR WEEKS BEFORE THE ACTUAL HOLIDAY...

The sad truth of the matter is that the stores stock their shelves this prematurely because there is a market for this crap.... I mean these are holidays people, start thinking about them three weeks before if you need to because gearing up over two and half months before might just be a little too much preparation... (breath, it will be ok)...

And that is why government intervention is now necessary. We can no longer control ourselves. Instead, we are brainwashed into going out and preparing for holidays like we are stockpiling provisions before a great war... With government assistance, the stores will be forced to set a time period closer to the actual holiday dictating when it is acceptable to put out their holiday-themed wares... Thus, saving us from our own devices...

So President Bush, please forget your goals abroad and help your people at home fight against the farce that is the excessive whoring of our holidays by retailers... Create this new Department and liberate us from the our constant urge to buy every possible holiday themed item in order to make our next holiday perfect....

More importantly, help us El Presidente because right now, we have thirty-five pumpkins and seventy-five bags of candy that we have to figure out what to do with for the next two and half months...

WHAT TIME IS IT....

GAME TIME.... MOTHER FUCKERS!!!

The semi-final game for my softball team is tomorrow night. Winner goes on to the championship game and gets the chance to win a ridiculously big trophy. While the loser, LOSES... duh...

As trivial as it may sound, I want the damn trophy. As I get older, stupid shit like trophies start to mean something to me as I strain to grasp that last breath of my athletic prowess. Granted, I am not old, and I will run forever... But the sports that require coordination are always the first to go... So tomorrow night, I will (insert sports cliche here) "leave it all on the field"... and by doing so become a No Fear T-shirt... because

SECOND PLACE IS FIRST LOSER!!!

and

HE WHO DIES WITH THE MOST TOYS STILL DIES...

(I always hated those shirts, but let me have my testosterone moment)

And just so it's clear, the game face is on....

Golf Outing Part Deux

I played in another golf outing today and shot a less than acceptable 109. The course was Dyker Heights in Bayridge, Brooklyn, New York and was in unbelievable shape. Here is a view of the Verrazzano Narrows Bridge, which looms over the course providing amazing photo opportunities like these...






























My front nine was decent as I shot a 48 and had two pars. I really was locked in and hit the ball solidly everytime. After the turn, however, I got a case of the yips and basically could not buy a shot closing with a 61. Golf has to be the most humbling sport that I have ever tried in my life, and I cannot even fathom how the pros hit the ball the way that they do with thousands of people watching and hundreds of thousands of dollars on the line... And then, there are guys like Tiger, who are able to dominate their peers almost everytime they compete... It's mind blowing, really...

Finally, here is a picture of my swing. It has to be one of the most brutal golf swings in the history of the game, but I swear to you that I hit the ball straight no matter what and off the tee I am lethal.... Of course, the remainder of my game leaves much to be desired....
















And let's be honest, you're jealous.....

Legend of the Rooster

So the other day two of my co-workers, who shall remain nameless, were searching the streets of Brooklyn Heights for anything to entertain them during their lunch break. During their adventures, they stumbled upon a Duane Reade, which is crazy since these establishments only exist on every corner in the City. Anyway, after entering the DU- ON Re-DAY as I pronounce it (similar to how people pronounce, Target, Tarjay), they found the most glorious object every created by man (ok maybe not but man this is pretty cool)... The Rooster!!! (pictured below)



Apparently, DU-ON Re-DAY has a fall fashion line, which contains all that the avid leaf watcher would need to decorate their studio apartment in preparation for the upcoming months of autumn. Although, I do not know the extent of this line, I am willing to speculate that if they have the Rooster, I would imagine that they have covered all of their bases for this season i.e. pumpkins, fake leaves, fake cornstalks, scarecrows, and fake candy apples with razor blades in them. The point of the matter is that my co-workers purchased one of these fine specimen and brought the little fella back to the office where he spent the day scaring other workers who entered said co-worker's office not expecting to see the Rooster.

Now, originally, I did not own a Rooster. Instead, I was left only to admire the Rooster from afar, secretly wanting him for my own, but keeping this desire to myself. That was until one day on the way to lunch, I decided to pull one of my usual moody bitch outbursts, which was caused by a discussion about Canada of all places, leaving the two co-workers to eat by themselves and me to eat a enchilada all by my lonesome. As a result of this tantrum, my co-workers being the kind folk that they are purchased a Rooster for me in order to tell me to buck up and get over myself.

Now, instead of being upset, I was filled with glee like a child on Christmas morning. In order to show my happiness, I brought the Rooster to our nightly office meeting that day displaying him to all of my co-workers. I also made certain that he was placed prominently in my office so that no matter who entered, the Rooster was in sight. Finally, I named the Rooster, Pedro.

But soon thereafter, it became apparent that all was not what it seemed in Roosterland because now that I owned the Rooster, he would not leave me alone. He was always staring at me with those beady little eyes while I attempted to perform my daily tasks, silently judging demonstrating marked dissaproval of my actions. Moreover, when I would have to prepare witnesses for depositions, he would make them feel uneasy as the witnesses often complained that they felt like he was silently telling them that he did not believe a word that they were telling me. Further, he took over my entire office causing me to feel very uncomfortable about the entire situation. In retrospect, I am not sure if the Rooster was such a good idea. I mean with the Rooster comes great responsibility.

Sadly, there is nothing that I can do. Who am I to send the Rooster out into the world unprepared for its many potential pitfalls and dangers? What kind of human being would I be? Needless to say, I cannot and will not do it, and as a result, I am left to coexist with the Rooster for the rest of eternity or until I throw his fake ass in the garbage.

Anyway, I documented what has happened ever since the Rooster entered my life so that you can understand the magnititude of his interruptions and his reign of terror.

Note: What you are about to see is not only troubling but quite frankly just plain wrong... WRONG I SAY... damn you Rooster...

First, here is the Rooster preventing me from doing any work. Now, although in this picture it may appear that he is actually doing my work, I assure you that the Rooster can neither read nor write. Once again, he is useless and disruptive.... and yet, clever...


Next, here is the Rooster sitting in the witness' chair. The problem here is that this is where the witness is supposed to sit. How can the witness sit in the chair if the Rooster is sitting there? Further, this chair is located directly in front of my desk so the Rooster can simply sit, stare, and judge all day long.



Here is where I put my foot down. A man goes to the bathroom, and then, he comes back to find the Rooster in his chair... Conclusion: The Rooster has no manners.



In the next couple of pictures, I am not clear as to what exactly the Rooster was doing. In the first one, it appears that he is challenging Bobblehead Jim Calhoun to a good old fashion fistfight..



And here, it appears that the paranoia has finally set in, and the Rooster is preparing to head out for battle. In the alternative, I am not sure where the football game was or what position he plays, but since he lacks arms, any type of catching or receiving position is clearly off the table.



Finally, the last three pictures, I will spare comment on, but for the following, the Rooster cannot operate a printer or a copier, and yes, we have a fake lawn ornament snowman in my office....

Not possible...




Impossible...



Poor Snowman...



Finally, a couple of notes about the above, I wrote the entire entry while I was stone cold sober so I have no one to blame but myself for what is written above. As a result, if you think it is dumb as shit, blame me.

If you do think it is dumb as shit, however, here is a suggestion, simply replace the word "Rooster" each time it is used above with the synonym for Rooster, "Cock," so hopefully, you and your 15 year old little brother will have an entire night of laughs...

Till tomorrow suckers!!!

I'M ALL IN

My buddies and I have recently developed a weekly tradition of playing a little hold'em each week. (that's poker people) The stakes are low, but the games are entertaining. We have even started to rock some sunglasses to make ourselves look the part. It truly is great time to get together and win each other's money albeit small change. I figured I would share some pictures from this week's game...

First, the players...

Dirty D-- he may not look like much, but his anger is only second to mine... He also has the crazy ability to win hands when he is down to his last chip....














Next, Crazy Legs Krodel-- although recently married, he has certainly not lost his edge. Plus, this player is wicked fucken smaht so you always think that he knows something that you do not.














Savage-- one can never read this player as he has a bit of a wild side. He is always willing to press his luck regardless of the potential downfall. Some may say this is stupidity talking, but in reality, it works out more than not for this fine card player.














Bob Jingle-- this cagey veteran of the felt plays his hands tight but not so tight that his opposition can ever get a good read on him. Often, he waits for his moment to strike like a cobra in the shadows.... (i am not sure what that last bit means, but I had to throw it out there...)














Finally, yours truly-- I play like a I live life in "true grip it and rip it" type fashion. Actually, I do not really have too much of astrategy going mostly on gut feeling or sometimes a read on what someone might have. Truly, in the end, I just seem to get lucky more often than not.














Tonight's big winners in the Farewell Crazy Legs Tournament were Mr. Jingle and myself, but next week is a brand new game and anybody can hit a hot streak... And thankfully, since we play exceptionally low stakes, everyone can afford to come back next week and play... Good game tonight fellas....

The Rooster is Coming

Fear him!!!

Remember Me From High School

Ok seriously, I love writing entries, and I love the fact that people comment, but I cannot stand the fact that blogspot has been infiltrated by spammers. Mainly because I love reading the comments but hate when the comments are simply spammers. If anyone knows a way to prevent this please let me know or else I am going to have to look for a new host to satisfy my writing needs...

TO THE SPAMMERS, I don't care about your diet pills, easy loans, erection pills or even the fact that you have the best porn on the internet (mainly because I already know where that is)... So if you actually read the entry before you spam, which I highly doubt unless you are the dumbest spam company on the earth, PLEASE STOP!!!

On a lighter note, this reminds me of a fun game that my old roommate from college and I used to play when we were in college and then beyond... Basically, there used to be and still is a group of spam e-mails that are sent out with the subject heading listed above. These e-mails seem like they may be from an old friend trying to reconnect with their long lost buddy from high school, but in reality, when opened usually contain the following:

SEE HOT NAKED SLUTS... WHO INGEST TONS OF MAN SAUCE...

VISIT OUR SITE FOR THE HOTTEST BARELY LEGAL BABIES ON THE INTERNET!!!!

And thus there is no long lost friend... just another website with the hottest 37 year old women with pigtails and fake boobs...

Point being, my roommate and I used to forward these e-mails to each other whenever we would get them... We would alter the subjects slightly to get the other person to open the e-mail, just to watch their reaction to receiving another porn e-mail... and soon thereafter, hilarity would ensue...

So when you get a chance embrace this game of porn and deception... and who knows maybe you will actually find someone from your high school... who now works in the industry... which is really the gift that keeps on giving... or atleast a real reason to really reconnect with all of your old high school friends in order to dish about so and so, who now receives cleveland steamers for a living...

Foggy

So after a week of no drinking, etc. and trying to cleanse my body of all the impurities that have wreaked havoc on it for the past decade or so, I am now sick. To me, the fact that I am now sick is the height of irony. I mean here I am trying to do good for myself, and I am rewarded with a banging headache, head cold, and general discomfort. As a result, I took yesterday off from work so that I could "nip this thing in the bud." Instead, the cold has fought off this preemptive strike and gotten worse. Anyway, I promise that once my head clears, I will write something inspiring about my work and the rooster that currently lives in my office. (Trust me on this one, it is always a plus to have a good cock around. Yeah I said it, judge me!!! )

For now, here is what I look like in my present state...



















And here is what I look like when I awoke this morning...














(Ok, neither of those pictures are how I look right now, but they are how I feel... kind of like I got run over by an 18 wheeler, and then, the driver of that 18 wheeler proceeded to bang my girlfriend while I watched in a semi-paralyzed state from my hospital bed... that's a bit extreme, but I hate being sick.)

Mission Accomplished

I made it through the weekend free and clear. And right now, I would really like to write something whitty or atleast partially clever, but I was up at six this morning to catch a train to New Jersey for an all day golf outing to benefit my college crew team. As a result, I am wiped and must get some sleep. I will be clever in the morning. Well, maybe not but atleast I won't suck like I do right now.

How Do You Remember

Ever since I moved to New York City, I have experienced some of the most amazing moments in my life. Unfortunately for most of that time, I had to rely on either my own personal memory or hope someone had a digital camera to capture these moments. Until today... I may not have had the money, but today, I bought a Sony Cyber-shot to capture the times I experience something and for those times I experience nothing at all... The key is that I will not have to remember these things on my own anymore... So without further ado, here are today's photos...

The first one was taken in Union Square. Clearly, some people are not happy with the war in Iraq including our friend the King pictured at the bottom of this page. Not sure what he was the king of, except for begging, which he did as soon as I took this picture. This picture is one of the many reasons that I love New York City. I mean the King is clearly a strange fellow, but is he really stranger than the dude wearing all yellow or the man in the revolutionary war outfit?














Next, we have the obligatory picture of myself. I really do try not to look so angry, it is hard when you have lights on top of your head. I mean they are hot and heavy.














Actually, I felt bad that I was going to subject my readers to another picture of me so I also included a picture of a picture of me from when I was in elementary school. And yes as you can tell from this picture, I used to eat lead paint. Also, I am sideways, this is actually how I have lived most of my life.














Finally, I leave you with a couple of night photos from my neighborhood. Here is the headstone place down the road from me. They sell headstones and all of your burial needs. Kind of a depressing establishment, but atleast they have this nifty neon light on all night just in case you need to realize that this is a headstone shop at 4 in the morning. Quick plug here for Six Feet Under that concludes tomorrow evening... crazy shit has been going down on that show in the last couple of episodes... they pretty much have to kill everyone off to top this whole thing off.














I had to include a picture of the creepy angel that is in the window. Here she is in all of her neon blue lit glory. I think I will name her Ramona and pray to her nightly.














And finally, here we are... home... well atleast what home looks like if you had seven beers, two irish car bombs, and a couple shots of Jagr... oh and a joint for good measure...














As for me, I am still on the wagon...

Rain Delay and The Great Time Warner Caper

In the City, Time Warner Cable is king, emperor, or el presidente for all of your cable television needs. As a result, you are at their mercy when it comes to getting things fixed or having problems solved via their customer service and/or support. Generally, this makes New Yorkers hesistant to give them a call when a problem arises for fear that you will either wait on the phone for three hours with no help in sight or by the end of the phone conversation, you will have signed up for the 300 dollar all channel mega package simply to get someone to come out to the house to check on the cable box. There are also Time Warner stores where it is rumored that some have entered and never returned.

With this frame of reference in mind, my old roommate and I signed up for Time Warner cable when I first moved to Brooklyn almost two years ago. Everything was going great until one weekend, approximately three months into my stay here, when the remote control stopped working. At first, I thought it was the batteries but after buying new Double A's and slapping the remote control around a bit, I realized that the remote control was definitely not working. (Note: I do not have a degree in engineering but I am wicked smart.)

The next attempt to fix this problem occurred when I asked my old roommate to get the damn thing fixed by having him call Time Warner to figure out the proper course of action. The old roommate is a very talented actor and a great guy, but he is definitely not the most responsible person on the earth or the type that would get it done. Further, to get him to do anything, required that you light the equivalent of a bonfire under his ass (another cliche, ugh). However, I figured that he needed to do it because the bill and the account was under his name. Needless to say, to this day, I am still waiting for him to make that phone call and since he has moved out, I doubt that call is forthcoming.

Of course, he moved out almost ten months ago and as of last night, the remote was still broken. During that time, I got used to the fact that I had to actually get up from the couch whenever I needed to change the channel. (Although many times, I considered fashioning some type of stick that would allow me to remain seated.) Additionally, once the account switched over to my name, I dreaded the fact that I would have to contact Time Warner in order to correct this problem because of the problems delineated above. Moreover, I heard that the lines at the actual Time Warner stores were worse than the one that the masses wait in order to get into Space Mountain at Disney World. (Note: I was going to make some reference to them being longer than a bread line in... but see no matter what follows that opener is either racist, anti-semitic, or makes you just sound like you are an awful person. Ironically, by not doing it but explaining what I was going to do has just made me look like even worse of a person.)

The point of this entire entry is that this morning, fresh from a sober evening of sleep, I left the house in order to head into the City to end this broken remote control stand off once and for all. I was ready to wait in long lines and for many hours as I had my bottle of water and 30 GB Mp3 player. Time Warner would not win, I would outlast them and their tyrannical rule.

After getting lost, I found the Time Warner store on East 23rd between Park Avenue and Madison and entered prepared for the worst. Stopping at the security guard, I explained to him that I needed to speak to someone about fixing my remote control. (remember I am back in New York City and not Las Vegas so there is no double meaning in that statement) The security guard directed me to the back of the dimly lit store to a series of windows with Time Warner workers waiting to help me.

Confused, I approached the windows, glancing around in search of a line, a number dispenser, or any indication that I was about lose ten hours of my life to Time Warner. Instead, there was no indication that there had ever been a line or an type of unnecessary expenditure of time in this store i.e. no sleeping bags, garbage, or tents.

And so I approached the window directly in front of me and sheepishly said, "My remote is broken."

She responded, "Sure, no problem, I just need the old one."

I stared at her for a second wondering if this was some sick Time Warner joke or hidden camera show, and then, remembered that the remote was in my bag... So I dug it out and proceeded to give her the remote, and she in turn gave me a new one. And that was that. She did not ask me about the account number, whose name it was under, or anything other than that I give her the old remote. I thanked her, and quickly left the store, before Ashton Kutcher came out from the dark corners to tell me that I was punked. (Note: I am not famous so this is impossible, but if he ever did, I would punch him in the fucken face.)

I returned home, and the remote worked.

And so for almost two years, I have not had a remote control for my television because I was worried that Time Warner would some how steal my soul or some how render me impotent if I undertook the process to get it fixed. Instead, in less than three minutes on a Saturday morning in August, I replaced that remote control and simultaneously, proved that I am a giant JACK ASS!!!

Afternoon Delight

Well the usual Friday lull has hit me like a ton of bricks and for the last couple of hours, I have been sitting at my work computer e-mailing and trying to make time run out so that I can get the fuck out of dodge. (By the way, I hate the fact that I use so many cliches when I write, I apologize). Anyway, the boredom has grown to the point that I figured I would just write for awhile and see how time that burned. (tick, tock, tick, tock)

Tonight, we have a huge softball game for the old office softball team. If we win, the team advances to the playoffs and if not, a coin toss decides our post-season fate. We lost the last game that we played, which put us in our present predicament. In that game, I got an inside the park homer but totally screwed up my right hamstring. As stated, I have run since that time but I am not sure how hard I can go... we shall see.

Finally, I have a confession to make, I like popsicles. Actually, I am addicted to them especially the Real Fruit Lemon kind. My obsession with popsicles started when i was a little kid, and I used to go to my grandmother's house and she gave them to me... I guess that is better than beer but still... Now, I feel better...

Back to work.

Odds and Ends

I was going to post a massive entry about my life and Phase III, but I have not figured out my life or what Phase III is or if it even exists. So instead I figured I would drop a few brief thoughts for the day...

1. If the 99 Cents Stores here in the City are not the closest thing to hell that exists on Earth, I am not quite sure what the fuck is. I went to one of these establishments this afternoon to pick up two things: garbage bags and a shower curtain. Now this is a pretty simple task in most normal stores, but in the discount boutique, this task becomes a test of both endurance and patience. First of all, these stores have never attended retail store school, meaning that they do not how to place products in the best location for them to sell easier nor do they subscribe to any form of organizational system. (Thus, they are the retail store equivalent of an elementary school without the Dewey Decimal System, which I do not believe is even used any more... that is scarring)... Further, the aisles are so packed with tons of shit because they never get rid of the crap that does not sell and rather simply restock by piling on top of the old non-selling stuff. As a result, you have to go up and down three different rows like you are living Dig Dug in order to obtain the item that you are looking for. Now that task would be ok if there were not also several hundred people, who have the same goal of saving money, in the store making the place more packed than a train in India. (That is not racist, Indian trains are packed, look it up) Anyway, after three hours (ten minutes) and the realization that they did not have an ATM, I left with my items.. but without my soul... Note: Someday we will discuss Walmarts in or near major cities and how they are actually just a sites for weekend riots and child torture.

2. I have Court tomorrow and have five or six motions to review this evening so that I get to argue them in front of a judge and generally scream at another human being, who is my opposition du jour. I have always been really competitive and actually look forward to these weekly sparring matches. Plus, sometimes I make the other attorney look pretty stupid, which is even a bigger boost to the old ego. Yeah I tend to be an adrenaline junky.

3. We played poker tonight. This was the first test of the 30-day plan in that this night is usually filled with all the evils that I am trying to avoid. The fellas, however, showed up with Gatorade, and we still had a great time. We probably even had more fun. (Weird) Thanks guys.


Maybe this is not so bad after all. Weekend looming... Day 3 complete.

The Reconstruction of a Runner

On Tuesday, I went for a run for the first time in almost two weeks. During those two weeks, I had basically abused my lungs, drank excessively, gained weight, and managed to pull my hamstring playing softball. As a result, I had zero expectations going into the run on Tuesday other than the fact that I hoped that I would not die on the side of the road and left to the large rats of New York.

Now, the run itself was not that fast nor was it that slow but what impressed me most was the first mile, which I ran in a very comfortable 7:40. (Just as a warning, it is true that most people can run fast for one mile if they are in any type of decent shape, but the kicker here is that although 7:40 is not that fast, I was just trying to run comfortably and was able to run a decent mile, which in reality, I really should have had no business being able to do.

Now what does this have to do with anything, well the subject of this entry is actually Phase Two of my plan because over the next thirty days and beyond, I plan to reconstruct myself into an actual competitive runner. I am not planning to make the Olympics or to win a marathon, but I am planning to be able to progress with my endurance so that I don't have to experience the roller coaster ride that has been my running over the past five years.

In the past, I have written about how much I love running, and it is true because I feel that running is that one time during the day that I am truly in my own little world. (Note: Many think I am in my own little world all the time) Running provides me with a place of solitude and peace that I do not achieve at any other point during the day.

My past entries, however, have left out an convenient little detail of my current running in that when I run, I do so in constant pain. Everyday that I run, I experience pain whether it be in my shins, my knees, or other parts of my legs. Now certainly, alot of this pain has to do with the fact that I have been running since I was probably four years old when my parents used to take me to Harkness Park in Waterford, CT and race me like a greyhound dog. (I got medals, they probably got cash and cocaine) But in addition to the years of wear and tear, I am also convinced that alot of my pain has to do with the fact that I have been drinking excessively for the amount of time that I have....

You see successful running requires the consumption of an excessive amount of water in order to keep your body hydrated and to recover quicker from harder or longer workouts i.e. rehydration. As a result, if you spend most of your evenings drinking after your runs like I did, you are first and foremost not rehydrating after the run and second, dehydrating yourself further. As such, you basically eliminating the process of recovery and instead relying on trying to rehydrate by consuming whatever amount of water I infuse into my muscles during the day. Further, this course of conduct means that I sleep in a dehydrated state so that my muscles never truly recover. Therefore, I am furthering my pain when I run. Plus, instead of building a great base for running with each run, I lose any improvement by being destructive at night. It truly is a viscious cycle.

A great example is my most recent marathon where although I still managed to perform acceptably, I still proceeded to do things during my entire training that basically made it an uphill battle to perform the way I did. I have done this in the past where I have run races either hungover after a hard night of partying or raced after minimally productive and usually short training period. I do not want to train like that anymore, and I firmly believe that this part of the plan will help me avoid such problems by establishing control over how I train. (Yeah, it sounds a bit hard core or geeky but I am on a roll.)

So the plan itself is going to go as follows:

1. I am going to put the marathon that I was training for in October off for awhile. First and foremost, I will not be ready in time for this one. I mean I could actually run it, but I do not want to have to increase my mileage too quickly and thus make my self susceptible to further injury totally defeating the purpose of any ideas I have just discussed. Instead, I want to truly start this thing called running like my life from beginning as best that I can.

2. I am going to use what is referred to as the 10% plan, found here. I do not want to really explain the entire thing to you because that will be very boring, but essentially, you never increase your weekly mileage by more than 10% from the previous week's mileage i.e. 12 this week does not get to be more than 14 next week and so forth. By doing so, I will hopefully avoid potential injury, and I can begin to rebuild.

So that is that, I want to become a runner again and be able to run in the way that I know I can and have in the past.

By the way, Day 2 is done, and the weekend looms on the horizon... BRING IT ON!!!

Thanks

Just wanted to drop a quick thanks to my buddy, Bob Jingle, who wrote one of the best pieces on what my buddy, Savage and I are going through right now. I agree with him 100%. Thanks man.

Late Afternoon Apologies

Since I have no other way to find you but hope maybe someday you will find my blog, I would just like to apologize to the fine gentleman that I sprayed my entire Ginger Ale on today while riding the A train into Manhattan. I was heading to a deposition and you were probably heading to something far more important such as a hot lunch date with the woman of your dreams or an important job interview. I offered my apologies, but I could tell from your look of disgust that I could never change the fact that you were now covered in Schwepps. (or was that Canada Dry?) I thank you for not punching me in the face or for returning the favor with your own saliva. Yes, you were the true gentleman, Ginger Ale Man, and I was but a mere failure in the art of opening a carbonated soft drink. For that, I apologize...

Oh and by the way, it was only soda, get over it... TOOL!!!

Doing Myself A Solid

Recently, a person that I care for deeply asked me why I am always so critical of myself and generally unhappy with everything that I do on a daily basis. This individual wondered (this person's words follow and not mine) how a person with so much potential and ability can live their life feeling essentially defeated at the end of each day. (ok I paraphrased)...

But in a nutshell, these comments are pretty much dead on in describing how I have been living my life as of late. I have spent a lot of time self-loathing and feeling really sorry for myself when in reality, I should be happy or atleast making some kind of progress to achieve whatever the fuck happiness is...Instead of seeing the tree before the proverbial forest.. (is that right?)

Note: My mother, who always gives sage advice, has always told me whenever I have been sad or down, to "think of the people with no legs."

Note further: She once sent me a picture of a person with no legs with a handwritten caption, "THEY DO EXIST!!!"

Mom makes some good points, but I am not sure that happiness is as simple as that... But it is a point well-taken... And one that I am sure she swears by...

As a result of all of these factors and as I have written about, I left for Vegas with a festuring desire to return therefrom with a plan. Now, originally, I was very hesitant to discuss any plan that I devised since such action has the potential of blowing up in my face and thus, being nothing but lip service... HOWEVER, I have decided to say fuck it and write down atleast the first part of my plan so that I have something to hold myself to as a sort of a goal for the next thirty days of my life.

Fuck it, here it goes...

The first phase of the plan is actually pretty simple. For the next thirty days, I am not going to indulge in any drugs or alcohol in order to use this time as a form of detox and to see what the hell this world is like if I am sober as well as what one does exactly when they are sober. Both of these concepts are extremely frightening to me and should be considerable challenges.

During that time, I will keep you, my five loyal readers, posted on my progress (probably not every day since the weekends are when the rubber hits the road) and vow to let you know when and if I fail.

Note: Failure would be a true kick in the junk and possibly an indication of a bigger problem.

Now, at the end of the thirty days, I am not going to head out on a binge or flush these next thirty days down the toilet. In reality as stated above, thirty days is just a short-term goal that is pretty arbitrary, but I need to take this first step in order to achieve a larger goal of living a lifestyle that I consider to be healthy and conducive to be happy. It's going to be one hell of a ride..

By the way, today was day 1.... 29 to go...

Loving Yourself Is As Easy as SEXY TIME PHOTO

So here I am in the flesh in blood. This was taken at my buddy's place in Williamsburg this evening in order to capture not only my anger but also my bitchin' tan... Actually, it was taken so that I could have a picture in my profile, but apparently, blogspot only allows this to be done is by posting it as an entry itself. I guess this requirement serves two purposes in that it enables me to have the picture in my profile and makes me appear like I want to see two of me all the time... Yes, I guess I do love myself...

In that same vein, since Sean "P. Diddy" Combs announced today that his name is now just Diddy, I will soon be announcing my new name to go along with this hot photo...

Seriously though, I hope to continue expanding the blog in the coming days and months in a similar fashion with photos, links, and what I actually write about. I will still keep dropping some rants and some regular anger, but I will also start to include more entries about my day to day existence that may actually not be as angry... Trust me you will understand in a little bit...