Death Trinity

Every day when I wake and check my e-mails and social networking accounts, I’m either met with happy thoughts, annoyances, or tragic news. Yesterday it was tragedy times two.

I noticed my father had posted a Rest in Peace onto our mutual friend Francois’ page. Some years ago Francois was diagnosed with Cirrhosis, a disease my father, too, suffers from. Like my dad, he underwent various treatment options which included holistic medicine, dietary restrictions and finally pharmaceutical intervention by means of a drug called Interferon, an extremely potent anti-viral agent that is known to rip you to shreds prior to making a smidgen of a difference for the better. Patients who undergo Interferon treatment are often on their last legs and it is through the administration of this intravenous drug that they seek solace. There are various psychiatric and physical side effects that come along with its implementation – and it is not all that uncommon to hear of suicide attempts or addiction relapse while on treatment.

Francois didn’t go by either of these means. He was on a transplant list and time ran out. My father’s interferon treatment proved successful some years ago. He was being treated not for the later stages of Cirrhosis like Francois, but for Hepatitis C, which both he and my mother have as a result of intravenous drug-use – and/or possible intercourse. It’s hard to tell when you’re sharing needles AND having sex.

Later in the day I called my father to check in and see how he was feeling in the wake of his buddy’s death. They were a close knit team he and Francois. They’d often hang out together, go to dinners and do things boys like to do, like play racquetball and things of this nature. It’s never easy to lose a friend. “Bad day, Kitty… Bad day… Just got another call that Greg died this morning, too.” – I was a little confused. Greg who? Greg from our old block in Gravesend?? My father clarified it for me,“Greg – the guy that helped me move you out of the apartment with Daniel”

I’d only met Greg once – he seemed like a nice enough guy and he was there to help me during a time that I felt pretty alone in the grand scheme of things. He and my father joked around a bunch about breaking Daniel’s giant flat screen TV as a little going away present and at the time it really annoyed me. I believe in a lady making a graceful exit. Looking back, though – I can see where it comes from. My father’s little girl was hurting and where else aside from a punch to the nose could a man hurt another man but their expensive lavish electronics cache. Thanks, pop!

Greg’s body was found in a basement of a housing project in Brooklyn. Overdose. Everyone in the meetings he attended with my father up until his demise knew him to be a recovering heroin addict but this particular housing project he was found in is notorious for crack so who the hell knows. It’s just a sad scene all around.

I told my father that I’m sure he didn’t want to hear it but these events should have him stepping back and taking a look at the choices he’s made recently that have allowed him to be here another day. “Da, I know we could all go at a moments notice but I think this is sort of a spiritual way of the world letting you know you’re supposed to be here. Both of those kinds of death could have easily been yours” –

“I know, Kitty. I know”.

I’m truly happy my father has decided to move onward with his life in a positive manner. I hope – and I do guess I sort of pray that he continues on to uphold a drug-free life. It makes a world of difference for me. A girl needs her dad. A girl needs her mom, too – but I’ve always had a tighter relationship with my father if for no other reason than the fact that I inherited his intellect and sarcastic nature.

They say death comes in threes – and aside from hearing the news of a member of Slipknot passing on, I’m yet to hear of the final part to this trinity. On the train last night, however, I did sit next to a dude who was wearing the same cologne as my ex boyfriend who has been gone from this world since 2003.

I miss him.

When I took my seat against the window and facing the direction the train was traveling in, the bouquet didn’t immediately hit me. It wasn’t until a minute or two later when I was already engrossed in my novel that I caught the whiff. ¬I felt the sides of my mouth curl up into a sweet smile reminiscent of waking up and falling asleep next to that same scent for the better part of five years on an intermittent basis. Perhaps in an attempt to intoxicate myself once more with the heady scent of what once represented mad passion, I took a deep breath in, swallowing every possible particle of air around me.

I miss him.

The Organic Pick-Up

Last week instead of being lazy and taking the downtown E train one stop to transfer to my downtown Brooklyn train, I decided to have a nice quarter or so mile walk into the west-village to catch my train home. I had Sade blaring in my headphones and the weather was almost as perfect as could be; the sun was still shining brightly at 5pm, and the breeze was the type that caught your hair and allowed it to have some organic movement while you walk. I was feeling great – no negative thoughts of Daniel had entered my mind – and I was off the next day to head out of town to a friends house for some much needed away from the city time. Seemingly, I felt on top of the world.

I was strolling east when I noticed a nice looking guy take a double look in my direction. He was noticeably older than I was – but his clothes and his style stood out to me and as a result, I suppose my gaze made its way over to him as well. I continued forward at the same pace I had been walking but he seemed to slow down a tiny bit. In a very adolescent yet charming way, he purposely however accidentally almost hit me with his outstretched arms while he let out a relaxing “what a great day” type of yawn. When he veered back to apologize for almost catching me with his arms, I smiled and said “not a problem”. We strolled together for a block or so and made casual chit chat about the gorgeous weather, the need to go outside on a day like this, and the whereabouts of my office with proximity to where we were currently. “My office is right over here”, he pointed to a tertiary street that only native NYers know exists – and in the next movement he handed me his card. “Do you have a card?” – In my mind I told him “no, my boss doesn’t consider me even nearly important enough to warrant a business card and even if he did my company is so fucking cheap they’d never approve the expense”. Instead, I smiled and apologized for not having one to return to him. So he did what any over 35 year old person would do these days, he asked me for my phone number – not my IM screenname, or if I had a Facebook account he could check out, or whether or not I was on a dating service, or my e-mail; he asked for my phone number. We exchanged digits right as I was about to head down the steps to catch my train back into Brooklyn and I had a Kool-Aid smile on my face for a good 15 minutes afterward.

There is something to be said for the organic ‘pick-up’. It’s been such a long time since something like that has happened to me that I forgot how good it makes a girl feel to have a man sort of court her. We are in such a digital world these days that even as I consider stepping back into the dating world, my first inclination is to activate my various dating profiles to see what’s out there. Has digital media made us that anti-social that instead of putting on a hot outfit and coloring my lips, I’ll sit at home in my living room, hair in a bun, and rock it out? I think it may have done just that.

There are various positives to doing the digital thing and highest on the list for me is that when you are engaging in an online world, you are immediately made aware of your potential matches aptitude with respect to literacy. To some, this probably sounds silly but it has become increasingly more important to me to have a partner who is able to handle their own in the literate universe. Granted, I realized there are probably myriad grammatical errors in my postings (Daniel was my resident editor!) – But on a comparison stand point, I think I do A-OK with the ink-sword and I really yearn for a partner who will bring it correct on the language tip. Believe it or not, this is progressively more difficult to find in a partner. During one of my many Daniel stalking sessions during which I read his Match.com profile, I veered off course and went to the “men seeking women” section to check out what was available with in 5 miles of my area and in the age range of 32-38. God – help – me and keep me strong; Brooklyn is crawling with the uninformed. It wasn’t a total massacre, though. There were quite a few profiles that seemed attractive enough to maybe ‘wink’ at some day and I’m sure when I’m ready, I’ll send them a little nod.

Whether or not my friend of last week calls is really immaterial for me at this point. One significant point I didn’t mention earlier with respect to my organic-suitor is that his business card told me he was the principle of a NYC based Real Estate firm. This may seem like nothing – but in a weird way this sort of validates my growth process. I realize the guy could be a complete scumbag and still have a lot of money and success, but the fact that he is a successful man at all and was attracted my way means that I am omitting something different to the world. Remember my post sometime back in which I mention that the universe watches? I believe this was a bit of an example of that happening in real time. Up until shortly before meeting Daniel, the general type of dude that was attracted my way sat somewhere on the low-level street thug scale and that has seemed to completely cease. I have no doubt that it is what I am giving out to the world in terms of my attitude and my belief that things are going to work out in my favor that is no longer attracting the dregs of society.

It must be my attitude because physically not much has changed on this end. I am still the short white girl with brown hair and strong yet nice-looking looking face that I have been for the last 10 years of my adult life. My frown lines are a tiny bit more defined now and there are some prominent grays atop my head, but all in all I am the same physical specimen. My body hasn’t changed much; I go up and down a range of 10-15lbs as often as people change their panties but all in all I lay somewhere in the range of a size 10-12 American. My tattoos haven’t gone anywhere, so it can’t be that… All in all, I really believe it has to do with looking at the world through a different lens and the lens I am wearing now is somewhat clearer than the murky frames of yesterday.

My personal efforts are paying off and it feels really good to recognize that.

So I conducted a social expirement

As a half of a social experiment half honest excitement about a very
interesting essay I read today, I posted a link on Facebook for my
friends to get their read on – The essay in question can be viewed
here for those of you who are interested… It’s pretty long, consider
that a warning.

The crib notes are basically this – Einstein’s posing the statement
that the most important question a person can ask in their lifetime is
whether or not the universe is friendly. The author of the essay took
this question and placed it into a thought provoking lengthy piece of
work in which he doesn’t attempt to answer the question of whether the
universe is happy or not – but instead, he gives examples of how a
persons thought patterns and the likes may or may not attract
different things in their lives. It’s a bit more complex than that and
it contains various thoughts on quantum mechanics, universal
coincidences (or lack thereof) and the basic laws of attraction. It borderlines on the basic foundations of “The Secret” –

So, I post this link – and I ask for thoughtful and intelligent conversation and opinions to be provided via feedback. (It’s times like this that I really miss Daniel) – Amongst the first bit of feedback that come in is the general statement that the question of whether or not the universe is friendly is in of itself a “retarded question” – Great, thanks for that opinion there buddy. Very thoughtful response. Next up is a Facebook friend who must’ve thought I was asking for the essay to be explained to me because she went into how the entire thing was really just all about the glass ½ empty vs the glass ½ full. Once again, thanks for that very thought out and explicit comment. In short, by around 25 minutes after posting the essay I was enraged that not one of my 496 facebook friends had a thoughtful enough comment to solicit an intelligent conversation on a topic which I find to be something that can be discussed to no end.

I need new friends

A strong percentage of my strong desire to breakup with Brooklyn lies in the fact that the people with whom I associate here are by and large very unexposed. It’s not the under-exposure that bothers me about them – I understand not being taught about the world and coming up in an area that was somewhat segregated. What I don’t understand is how in 2010 with the internet, media, and various other sources of information, these same folks are not dying to get out into the world and learn something new. This – in of itself – is a driving force behind my needing a serious change of scenery.

I know what many of you might be thinking and that is that my experiences with in Brooklyn are not representative of the entire Borough – and you’re right. Unfortunately, rent in an area with a bit of a more cultured existence is outrageously high and I am simply not in a position to take that step financially. So, what CAN I do?

A few friends have suggested meetup.com – Do any of you have any experience with it? I’m generally familiar with the concept behind the site and I think it’s a cool enough idea. I’m not sure what types of meetups I’d be into – but the idea of seeking out a more cultured audience in terms of social companionship is seriously appealing to me right now.

Social companionship – did I just say that? What the fuck is social companionship, anyway? You’re talking to a girl who would easily date a different dude every night and stay more than busy doing so. What is this concept I am about to embrace? Not using what I’ve got on my side in terms of being an attractive outgoing female – to get men to hang out with me by dangling the carrot that is my vagina in their face? What? –


When did this happen?

I was speaking to my therapist about that tonight, actually, and I announced to him, proudly, that I have not yet jumped into the sack with a suitor as a means to ease the pain of splitting with Daniel. I am, however, starting to have some natural desires again – and that means I’m about to enter some rough terrain with respect to riding the road that is this healing process I need to go through. It’s very easy to medicate yourself via drug or dick – what is not easy is resisting the temptation to fill a general void you’re having as a human being. I feel that void entering the picture on a grand scale and while I am dedicated to not making the same mistakes I’ve made in my past with respect to casual sex, I can’t say I’m not really starting to feel really lonely.