Unable to Speak

I'm feeling better now (thanks for asking, Trish!).


Wednesday I pulled another 12-hour shift. One of our clients is a telecommunications company that recently merged with another. That meant that every single cell phone store needed to replace their signage right away. It's a job we've been working on for two months, and it needed to be finished. Yay, more happy-fun-time for Jeff! I set up two of the printers to keep going and I got a cab at 4 AM. I got home a half hour later feeling miserable and passed out.


I couldn't speak at all on Thursday without enduring a bit of pain. Whispering hurt. The day was spent typing notes in my phone to communicate. One of the guys asked if I was playing a game (pfft, not until cell phones can handle Doom 3). I had to erase what I was typing to answer his question. The most annoying part was that two other people were out sick that day, and no one would answer the phone.


Aside - I HATE the office phone. The ring circulates from one phone to another until someone picks up. It's fine for surround sound systems, annoying for offices.


Anyway - I was sitting there working and the Big Boss asked me to answer the phone. I looked at him, pointed to my throat, shook my head and thought, "answer your own phone, dammit." You know? Thanks for paying attention. I've been in for a few hours, and you haven't heard my voice once. I guess it's hard to concentrate when you're scanning Travelocity. Give me a raise and insurance, jerk!

Friday I woke up feeling a lot better, my voice somewhat returned. It's a little scratchy, but I can speak if I need to. I was also dizzy for most of the day, even as I type this.


There's a lot of drama going on in the office surrounding a certain sales rep. While I've never had a high opinion of him in the years we've worked together, he's never been this much of a dick. He just creates more problems, and solves none. Everyone bitches about him, and soon, the Big Boss is going to have to talk with him. Too bad the sales rep doesn't care. He's trying to move to Florida and do something else. He's not in the office most of the time, he doesn't know what his clients are up to, and he forgets that the others have placed jobs in the first place. We get blank order forms for jobs that we know nothing about. We have to track him down, call his cell phone, he tells us to call his client when HE'S the one who should know what's going on. There are plenty of other problems, but since half of my co-workers are Chinese, I can't understand what they're saying.


Ugh. I'd like to spend the next 48 hours not thinking about work. I don't hate my job at all. I'd just rather do something else. Like watch Looney Tunes: The Golden Collection Volume 3. There will be much rejoicing.

Drugs. Lots of drugs.

It was only a matter of time before it happened. There's nothing any of you could do to help me, even if I did ask for help.

I...

I have a cold.


I woke up Monday morning with that tingle at the back of my throat. I bought many pills and cough drops when I got out of work, and ingested a couple of red pills to hopefully fight it as much as I can. Of course, this is all in addition to my regular vitamin supplements.


Tuesday I woke up with the tingle and a few sneezes. I knew then that I was fucked. It hasn't gotten worse, thankfully.

I FUCKING HATE HTML

GOD DAMN MOTHER BLOODY FUCKING SHIT EATING HTML CODE MAKES NO SENSE!!!!!


Could we just get some UBB code that's used on message boards? Or even better, have Blogger automatically figure out that I've put a weblink in a post? Fuck, I had to refresh at least TWENTY FIVE TIMES to make sure I got it right.

Ugh. Dammit. No amount of exclamation points can express my nerdy frustration.

Darwinism in action. Almost.

This past Thursday I was standing on a street corner, across the street from my place of employment. I was patiently waiting for the sign to change from "don't walk" to "walk" as cars whizzed by at 40+ miles per hour.

On the other side of the intersection, there was a middle-aged construction worker who would not wait for the sign to change. I watched in disbelief as the guy played Frogger with traffic. He yelled at each car that almost hit him. When he finally made it across, he noticed that I was watching.

This knuckle-dragging motherfucker had the balls to complain about nearly dying.


Let's review pedestrian right-of-way laws in NYC, shall we?

http://www.nysgtsc.state.ny.us/peds-vt.htm#sec1151

"Can you believe the people in this city?"

Yes. Yes I can. If you're going to walk out into rush hour traffic, you should expect to be endangered.

At this point, the sign had changed and I started to cross the street. He started to shout.

"I'm going to kill everyone in this city, and I'm going to start with YOU!"

I laughed it off, and encouraged him to try as I walked into work.

Seven Months of Grey

Last weekend saw the start of the craptacular season I call "Grey." Sure, Daylight Savings ends on the 30th, but when it rains for nearly a week, that's got to count for something.


It's time to bury the air conditioner, unearth the trench coat, plug in the electric blanket, get some hot, pure liquid chocolate from Starbucks - yes, I am the Chantico's bitch. I get a Really Big Cup of it with whipped cream and somehow NOT go into a diabetic coma (haven't had one since April) - and revel in the giant boxed set of Monty Python's Flying Circus DVDs. (Hmm, remind me to get a decent copy of John Phillip Sousa's "Liberty Bell." Not a bad tune to start off a British sketch show with.)


From now until May, we can expect about seven sunny days per month. Since I'm a terrible creature of the night and work second shift, I'll forget what the Sun is by December. By March, I'll take a page from Lewis Black and start cutting myself just to see some color. April will roll around and various passers-by will look on in amazement as to how pale I am, and will suggest that I'm a vampire. I will respond by actually biting them, just to fuck with their heads. May will slap me in the face with some much needed warmth, and everything will be back to normal.


By the way, could we get some fucking THUNDER and LIGHTNING with the melancholic rain? A little meteorological drama isn't too much to ask, is it? A bit of Neodämmerung, perhaps?

Great news!

Victor Gabriel LoParco was born at 8:16 AM yesterday, October 4th. He's 7 pounds and a few ounces, and about 20 inches tall. A little taller, but a little lighter than Isaiah when he was born.


Congratulations, Chris & Yanellie!

Hooray!

I had my very first anxiety attack yesterday!


I was walking home, carrying a few bags of groceries. My heart started to beat very fast, I could barely breathe, and my eyes welled up with tears.


Man, oh man, I can't wait until I can afford therapy.

A Strange thing happened last weekend...

I'm not a big fan of kids, children, rug rats, etc. There are a few exceptions, though.

When I hang out with Francis & his family, his sons are generally playful, smart and curious. The boys are naturally mischievous, but well behaved. Fran & Mickey actually talk to them, and they LEARN. In short, good parents, good kids.

Last weekend, I had arrived at Chris' house in a miserable, zombified state. He said I looked really pissed off when I walked through his door. I chugged 32 ounces of sugary, caffeinated goodness, sat down on the floor of Isaiah's room with his mother Yanellie & grandmother, and just relaxed.

I hadn't seen Isaiah since he was but a blob in his crib. Now, he's over a year old, walking around, and has a personality. He's also fascinated by the magnetic clip of my cell phone case. He already likes wrestling, thanks to his dad. He's a pretty bright boy, very curious about the world around him, and very playful. Like I've said before, good parents, good kids.

There was a really sweet moment when Carlos & Tara arrived. Tara sat down a couple feet from me. Isaiah walked right up to her, gave her a hug, and kissed her on the cheek.

Chris said, "Look out, Carlos, you have some competition!"

As I was sitting there playing, I became a bit more relaxed. Maybe it was the insomnia, maybe it was the caffeine coursing through my veins, but something that resembled paternal instincts kicked in.

Later on, when we all came out to the living room, I'd pick him up to sit on the couch. Chris said, "I never thought I'd see the day..."

I was pretty surprised, too.

I've realized I DO want to have kids; I DO want to be a father.

It's just going to be at least 8 years before I even consider procreating. The whole tired screaming and dirty diapers stuff, I'm not ready for.

So, yeah, my charred, scabbed black heart isn't as charred, scabbed and black as we all thought it was.

Contempt

Let me tell you about the time I went to a goth club.


Last winter, I made a couple attempts to come out of my shell and try doing things that normal people do, like drinking and going to clubs. I'd try a few drinks my roommate would mix for me, and no matter how little alcohol she'd use, I'd still hate it. I don't get it. The alcohol simply burns right through any flavor the drink might have, and it's fucking nasty. Even Bailey's on ice cream was gross. With that in mind, I've never been drunk. I'm too grossed out to drink enough to get plastered.


Later on, a bunch of us went to Contempt. My roommate, her boyfriend, and a few of their friends somehow convinced me to go. It was a freezing cold, windy Saturday night. They were all gothed up with varying levels of makeup, and I dressed as I normally am: button down shirt, khakis, boots, trench coat; all black, of course.


We got there, paid the entrance fee, and descended the stairs to the bar. Further down was the dance floor. Obscenely loud (and some of it was crappy) techno/metal was blasting and reverberating through the entire club. I was introduced to people, and then they flocked to the dance floor. I watched for a few minutes, checking out what the kids call dancing these days.


That's another thing I don't understand. Well, I do understand it, but I don't "get" it. I've never felt the compulsion to dance. Without trying to sound like a snob, I process music intellectually and emotionally. If I tap my feet or fingers, that's as far as it goes physically.


One of the guys in our group wasn't much of a dancer either, and suggested we go upstairs to the viewing booths. There's a bunch of black and white video cameras placed all over the club, and at the top of each of the screens. You can cycle through all the cameras. If you see someone you like, you can pick up the phone, hit a button, and talk to them.


We scrolled through and played around. There were a few cute girls, but they were not in my league. We came across the camera for the booth we were in, and Frank made sure the camera had me in its sights. I IMMEDIATELY became self conscious and turned away.


After a while, we went back down stairs, and watched everyone dance. I stood in a corner, trying to stay out of everyone's way. A couple of people stopped a few feet in front of me to pose for a picture. I closed my eyes so I wouldn't get blinded by the flash. They stopped, looked at the pic on the view screen. I was in the background of it. They then took the pic from a different angle.


Yeah, I already felt unwelcome in the place. Thanks for dehumanizing me, too.


I went back upstairs to sit down and rest. It was late, I didn't care for any of the music, and just feeling more out of place than Britney Spears at a MENSA convention.


My roommate, on a break from dancing, came up to see how I was doing. We chatted with the DJ for a few minutes, and I decided that I should leave.


I walked out, said "good night" to my friends who were smoking outside, and went on my way to the subway station. It was so cold that night, my breath didn't even hang in the air; it dropped and shattered on the concrete.

Katrina News

(Of course I'm still awake. Ice cream, remember?)




Here are some blogs, news, & photo sites about people surviving in New Orleans ad other areas devestated by the hurricaine. I am purposely leaving out politically charged sites and trying to focus on the actual experience of living there. If you come across any other blogs, please contribute, and I'll edit them into the post.


http://www.livejournal.com/users/interdictor/


http://dancingwithkatrina.blogspot.com/
http://www.vincentlaforet.com/


http://smallprecautions.blogspot.com/2005/09/
flooded-new-orleans.html; includes a link to a 3 MB sattelite photo. If you have problems viewing it, save it to your desktop & open in a photo-editing program.


http://blog.tdworld.com/katrina/