I sleep with one eye open now

Living on this rock, where things can go wrong quickly, I have adopted the habit of sleeping with one eye open. My mind continuoulsy scanning for wrong noises, the hum of the water pump which means my cistern is losing water, the clomp of goats in my yard tearing away at my little garden or the sploosh of a stranded dog diving into my pool. It is amazing that all this is done when there are so many other noises that can interfere with wrong noises. There are crickets and bird noises, and turtles that while moving through the garden can make goat like sounds, and wind in the trees, but yet my scan is never wrong. It is infalliable. I am alerted to danger even as my mind burroughs deeper and deeper into its own secret subterrean world entertaining me with strange ideas, new dimensions, while creating problematic situations, which it then rushes to find solutions for before the sun rises and a new day begins.

Reading

I have recently started reading in a new way. In the past, I would drive through a book from beginning to end, navigating carefully between the commas, exclamations and paragraphs to move in geographical sense from the title to the very last word. Now, after having come across some books which i had forced myself to finish in order to find meaning, not wanting to have robbed myself of discovering something new or having wasted my time, i would plug through much like someone at the slot machine who refuses to leave because of all the quarters, times, and prayers, they had put into their endeavor. I have since realized that this method brings me no comfort, and so i have since veered into just putting the book away and leaving it alone, refusing to skip or skim pages to discover the end, fearful that this might become an addicting forming habit in which all my readings could suffer this race car driver fate, robbing me of great novels.

However I soon noticed that sometimes this too was not ideal as my mind would drift upon the fate of those characters, and wonder what happened, where could that story have been going? Which has brought me to another phase, the phase, i was initially avoiding, the race car method, which consists of shortcuts much driving violations, and yes, the danger of becoming addicted to a quick ending in detriment of an enjoyable reading. A method that I fear, are remote controls, and high speed online surfing has infected us with.

I became aware of this when I had started reading revolutionary road by Richard Yates, which is about the confinements of suburbia, which seem to linger too much at one point, and although a fine novel, I had become tired of hearing the characters whine and I raced toward the end. I just had a difficult time feeling anything for the characters and although their issues seemed justifiable and even relevant to today, and to the world in which I live, I just failed to become embroiled in the narrative, but felt as if i were drifting slightly while watching a bickering couple.

Is destiny telling me to go home

If i am to make a list of all the things that happened to me since I have returned to NY the acronym is GO HOME.

I was mugged and my expensive thick leather bag was ripped with a knife in the process, my stupid neighbor decides its a good idea to keep his stupid relentlessy barking dog locked in the hall accross my bedroom window, after a sleepless week where i try to plead with them to no avail, my boss tells me I will yet again be responsible for the work that we had agreed I would not do, as the person who was previously completing the tasks was leaving the company. I send him an email letting him know I could/would not do the task but was willing to leave if it would make things more convenient. He then not only asked me to leave right away, but he walks repeatedly back and forth in front of my desk as if to motivate me to leave "sooner then right away" to "immediately".

I can only wonder is this bad luck condensed in less then a months time or is the world plotting for me to return to my little island as fast as my little feet can take me?

Never mind, no more signs, i am leaving.

bलुएसेऔर्चिन

Lets hold her up to some light

.
My sister is the type of person who instructs you what to do and what not to do with the certainty that she does no wrong.

Except well, she happens to be human, and she does do things wrong, and it just happens that she does lots wrong, as many of us do, hrrhmm, myself of course not excluded.

Perhaps its due to this inevitable reality, that I never developed an interest in keeping a score card and also because I am a little lazy, that I have always overlooked her errors, but now that she is adding to her list by finger pointing at me, I feel obliged to remind her that she may want to rethink this action, or perhaps, she may want to practice it in front of a mirror to herself until she has enumerated and improved all her faults before scolding other for theirs, namely me, for mine. See saying "about glass houses".

Just in case she also suffers from poor memory in this partularly sensitive and often obscure area or just lack of clarity, as alas, much of us do, I am kindly posting her a (kindly because I haven't added her name and picture above, at least not yet) list below.

Mortal Sins of a Mortal Girl:

• She didn't follow up with the paper work for her morgage causing my mother much frustration as she scrambles to help her by providing her with money.
• She sent the bank the wrong building plan, one that was not approved part of her construction permit.
• She quit her job even though her loan was thrown out for faulty paperwork and even though she was not very good at overseeing the construction as she accumulated many costly errors.
• She refused help with the ongoing construction of her house until she had committed so many errors she didn't know how to solve them then she went crying to our mother. Which makes the construction that much more costly and difficult.
• She dumped her dog who she refused to train not to jump on the couch and obey simple commands on my mom to babysit. Even though my mom was tired of cleaning the balacony with that oily residue his fur leaves behind, constantly washing the throw covers of chairs and sofa, and running after him every time he escaped.
• She thinks the dog is her first priorty and wastes hours everyday dropping him off at my mothers and walking him, leaving my poor mother to do much of her work on the construction site.
• She visits the vet every 2-3 months because the dog has an incurrable illness, spending all her money on him, leaving my mom with the financial obligations of her house, which she insisted must have very costly ammenities.

Well, look at that, when we hold her up to the light, she does have lots of cracks after all.

Bark, Bark, Bite

Thursday I am awakened by C my neighbors dog at 4:00 am. I graciously await 11:00 am to leave a message on there answering machine. When I come home that night, they are not home, but C is still unrelentingly barking up a storm which has the effect of slowly and painfully unhinging my back bone. At 9:00 pm I spot the daughter making her way to her door. I explain, that her dog is very cute, but I am finding it hard to sleep, she looks at me blankly, as if I am explaing something that does not relate to her. After my babbling a bit which is due to my incomprehension on how to state the obvious without seeming rude, she says she will tell her parents. A full 15 minutes later of more barking she brings C out. I am relieved. My issue is solved, by pain is coming to an end, I keep focusing on the light at the end of the tunnel. I go to bed, feeling a sense of accomplishment.

4:00 am C begins her incessant and piercing barking, much like an alarm I can't turn off. Frantic I call my mother for help, support, guidance. She tells me to leave a note as if everything can be resolved with a simple note, what she doesn't understand is that these neighbors are not normal, nor have they ever been. They think that the entire block is their domain and that the other people living are there serfs...or perhaps at best, loiters, they must put up with. Sitting there with the early morning light making its way through a dreary rainy morning, drinking my extra strong green tea in hopes it will keep me awake, I spot the neighbor with the vociferous canine. I go up to him "your dog is really nice but really loud and unfortunatley she started barking at 4:00 am. He looks at me blankly. Does this family suffer from some sort of brain disorder I begin to wonder. I suggest helpfully, "maybe you can move him into another room". He replies, grumpily and stubbornly "there is no other place". I try to encourage all my brain cells to unite in an effort to find a reply which will not offend said neighbor, but will not sound like I except his explanation as a solution. I push on bravely "Well we need to do something, because as I said, she is cute but really loud". "so its a morning thing, she usually doesn't do this" "well I push on yet again, its also in the day and the evening" "when do you come home?" he asks. "fivish" I reply and thinking he has find a solution or in the mist of finding a solution, or befor he goes off in the wrong direction, some way to get out of correcting the situation, I thank him and turn around to leave. Well now its finally over.

It wasn't pleasant, no one appoligized, but I am getting some peace and quiet. Its over.

When I arrive home that evening, it is blissfully quiet. No barking. I sigh...see everyone is right, communication is key.

I go to sleep, and still not a peep from C.

It's 4:00, and we are back where we began. I work on being patient, he must be working on the problem I tell myself. Not trusting myself to talk to him without telling him he is a dumb moron with no etiquette nor a shadow of a brain, I decide not to leave a second message. I tell myself he is trying to walk her later it just didn't work and he will see that for himself.

Saturday, I must be so tired I don't hear C. I wake up refreshed.

Sunday, C barks continuously from 4 to 5. At 5 AM someone opens a door and he quiets down immediately.

Ok, so now they see it doesn't help and she is still barking at 4. They will try something else now.

Monday, C starts barking at 3:00! She has moved her barking cycle up an hour! Furious I sit at my desk to pen a letter, which I finally deem is polite, but some what firmer, which I tape to the neighbors door. A nice long piece of tape I decide in a half crazed mood must show my determination.

3:40 a door opens again, and like magic C stops barking. I check the window. The note has disappeared.

The only reason why I have not called the police yet is because they are geographically very close neighbors and because they seem to be trying to solve this issue even though they seem awfully slow witted about their attempts. Perhaps its after all not there fault if they are not bright.

But this is it, they have 48 hours and then I bite. I will call 911.

Time sponges be gone

I had a head hunter who emailed me when I was away on vacation. I emailed back explaining I wouldn't be in the states for another month. He replied "enjoy".

Then I received a voice mail from him on my return, which I promptly returned. To be contacted twice with such a time gap may mean a position that may be hard to fill. Perhaps a position which requires proficiency in French. Perhaps this is something lucrative. I reason, if it's hard to fill, and they really need someone, it should pay well. Excitely, I call him the next morning on the train to work and we scale through polite formalities quickly.

"So is anything on your radar I ask?"

"What?" (as in he needs to buy time to lie).

I repeat my question.

"oh i'm not at my desk". (meaning, he just needs to look busy by interviewing people as there is probably a lul)

"Can you call me back later" he asks.

"Sure", I lie.

If there is something on the table I know he will contact me to give me the details. I don't call back. A week later. He calls me "why don't you come in to meet the office so we can get you set up with something?" I am doubtful, but I think it would be nice to have a nicer position. What can it hurt? Then, the day of the meeting, I think to myself, I don't feel like trecking over there for a position that doesn't exist and come running back to work worrying about my suspicous lateness. Besides, I reason, I really don't want to see J. the head hunter, who keeps insinuating that we should go out and who doesn't seem to pick up on the fact that my avoiding responding should clue him in. Obviously, he cares little about my discomfort, and less about my time, and wasting it. Five minutes before my appointment I call him and leave a voice mail that I won't be able to make it due to playing catch up on my 1 month long vacation in St. Barth.

Sigh. I am trying hard not to be bitchy... but I hope it hurt.

Avoiding small talk of the painful variety

Taking my little pizza box I make my way over to sit in front of a fountain with other fountain gazers enjoying the last remants of the summer sun.

Since returning from the caribbean, and also perhaps, since being almost mugged, I have become more aware of my surroundings. I look more closely at people, and perhaps this is how i notice there is a man with an orange pants and green shirt. My eyes linger. He looks like my ex. However it couldn't be, because my ex would never own much less wear such colors. Maybe the green top, but never the pants. Yet I am fascinated in a disturbed sort of way, I try looking closer, I squint. As this person occasionally looks around him briefly. He grabs his ear and starts rubbing it. A gesture I think he did, in fact, i am pretty sure. I try to calm myself by focusing on the fact that I am sitting behind him so maybe he won't notice. Then even better, I think I need to leave before being noticed. I scoop up my stuff, just when i see from the corner of my eyes, he is making his way to my corner. Calmly, I get up so my back is facing the sidewalk he is making his way to, then I coyly turn and make my way to where he just left, quickly leaving him behind.

I need a personal manager

I need a personal manager who walks up behind me and gives me taps on the back of my head whenever I stray from what I am suppose to be doing. They wouldn't need to be heavy duty amnesia provoking taps just irritating enough for me to desire to avoid them and also serve the purpose of redirecting me when it does occurr. "tap". Back on course.

Grey day

Today is grey and kind of gloomy. The kind of day you stay in bed for with a good book under the covers. I am coveting my pillows. One for my head, the other my arms.

It is 4:00 the worst part of my day. My lunch is settling in like an anchor pulling deep into the depths of sleep. A world impervious to my supposed office duties.

I can feel the pressure growing on my face, my eyelids, my cheeks, encouraging me to succumb. My entire body, turning itself off. I am fighting with out much intent to remain awake like a lone sailor trying to navigate a large yacht who has lost all crew.

I protest quietly while i feel myself slipping irrisistibly away. I just need a second.