Fan’s Complaint

For some time now, I have been waiting for a letter. I was told to expect it in February. Seeing as how today is the 28th, and I have yet to receive this letter, I think it is time for me to just assume the worst and get on with my life.

I’ve been getting hints that this blog needs a “new direction.” One such instance came the other night, when I was balancing loose change on my sleeping cat’s head. It reminded me of Oolong the rabbit. I was talking to Jay at the time, and he suggested I could achieve the same popularity if I posted pictures of my cat with loose change on her head.

Though I am inclined to agree that I do need to shake things up around here, I doubt taking pictures of my cat would get me out of the doldrums. Serious changes are in order. It’s time for me to take some kind of big step.

As of today, I am giving up my dream of writing. It’s time for me to follow my other dream of becoming a radioactive-spider handler.

Tonight I learned the meaning of being a man of my word. I had promised almost a month ago that I would attend Jay’s concert tonight. I had no way of knowing then that it would be snowing tonight. In my mind I had imagined driving out, finding a spot a block away, and getting back home before 10pm. But things are never as nice as they are in my mind, are they?

The conductor just announced that all trains are local due to “inclement weather.” A hell of a night to be out.

***

When did I become this person? I never used to be discouraged by inclement weather.

When I was in 7th grade, there was a blizzard that left a pedestrian overpass nearby encrusted in ice. As I recall, it was literally impossbile to cross while remaining on one’s feet. I learned that the hard way, having fallen several times and sliding all the way back to the bottom each time.

I was with a couple of friends then, and after a couple of hours or so, we had all crossed, on our hands and knees. I cannot recall now why we did that, as we could have easily just walked across the street–nor was there anything of interest on the other side except for a playground, where there was a swingset where Jimmy supposedly once “hopped the fence” (to jump off the swing at the apex of its arc and soar over the spiked fence, landing safely outside). As an aside, that playground, along with the entire park across the frozen bridge is currently a construction site for a waste reclamation plant.

I got distracted. There are boorish chinamen who just boarded the train speaking in their confounded gibberish.

Anyway, having passed the trial of the frozen bridge, my friends and I considered ourselves men. A few days later, we brought back another kid to experience the trial, but by then the ice had melted.

***

The point was that I used to enjoy inclement weather, whereas now I consider it a hardship to have to take mass transit out to Manhattan to support my friend.

I really wish the chinaman next to me would stop crunching on whatever the hell it is.

***

I don’t understand the reason(s), but I have been different since my roadtrip. I have been drinking a lot more. And when I am numb I am completely so, and when I feel, it is much more acute. Right now, I am convinced that nothing will ever change, that I am doomed to this, whatever it is, for the rest of my life. Tomorrow when I am sober I will once again be completely numb. The numbness is the horrible everydayness of it all, the defeat. It is as though I can only see through it and fight it and feel when I drink.

This is why people drink, isn’t it? I am not poetic or artistic or unique–it’s just taken me a lot longer to figure out the “real world.”

***

Service announcement:

Please be advised that this entry contained an unusually high amount of self-loathing. A moderate dose is expected next time.

***

What is it about walking in the snow alone that makes me either completely satisfied or unbearably lonely?

Drove out to the island to be by the water with my thoughts. How cliche is that? There was a flock of canada geese behind me honking incessantly, but they’ve gone now. A fast boat just went by. Its Gatsby taking the hydroplane out, right? Old sport?

I remember so many fruitless attempts in college to get someone to go to the water with me. Everyone always had homework or an exam or a dislike of me. Maybe it is just better to be alone and be able to do what I want, even if most of the time that just means staying in and drinking alone.

Sometimes all you can do is laugh.

Japanese anger with North Korea rose sharply last month after Pyongyang delivered to visiting Japanese diplomats two boxes of half-cremated remains, said to be of a Japanese woman kidnapped from Japan by North Korean agents in the 1970’s. DNA analysis showed that the remains were not of the missing Japanese woman, but of two unidentified people. It is unclear if North Korea, which tightly controls information from the outside world, was aware of DNA technology.

From “North Korea Says It Has Nuclear Weapons and Rejects Talks” in the Times.

I’ve been looking at job listings on craigslist, and amidst the sea of listings for assistant office drone positions, a couple stuck out.

One was for assistant something at a cattery. I’d like to take that job just so I could say, if I were ever asked, “What’s your industry?”

“I’m in cattery.”

Though I suppose the gramatically correct sentence should be, “I’m in a cattery,” or “I work in a cattery.” The problem with that job was that it pays shit, and it’d be cleaning up shit.

The other listing that caught my eye was something for comedy writing. They were looking for actors and/or writers. I’ve written two and a half pieces of comedy in my time, and I happen to think they’re hilarious, but I’m not sure if my sense of humor would appeal to these people.

As an example, I will list a few things, in increasing order of hilarity.

A retard.
A retard in a wheelchair (a Go-Tard).
A Go-Tard slipping on a banana peel.
A Go-Tard getting hit by a bus.
A Go-Tard getting hit by a bus full of doctors who cure Go-Tardism.
“Look out! It’s Hitler fucking a donkey!”

I’m told that most of the above would not be funny to the average American. It’s probably for the best.

Last night, I had an authentic urban experience as I cruised around Brooklyn with J****n and his “crew,” one of whom got pulled over. Riding in the Geo Prizm, however, rendered us invisible to the law, and J****n did a hell of a job pushing the Prizm to its limits in order to keep up with the souped up cars we were following.

In the end, I did not get to see any racing, as the cops were out in force, but I did get to see, fleetingly, how “urban” people live.

***

As for tonight, I understand there is something on the television that most Americans watch. Wake me up when it’s over.

Last night, or maybe two nights ago, I saw a shooting star as I walked to the bus stop. I started to make a wish, and then thought that it needed some rephrasing, and so started to move the words around in my head. I was thinking of clauses and conditions and alternate outcomes even as I got on the bus, and then I got distracted by a girl in tight jeans, and never completed my wish.

Last night, just before I passed out, I had a solid idea for a story involving my tracking down the graffiti artist who is in love. The pictures in the previous post were the second time that I’ve seen his work, and it reminded me of certain sleepless nights I had in college, chalking things on the walkways outside someone’s dorm.

Maybe the story would’ve involved my experiences with public and cryptic confessions of love, or maybe it had something to do with Asian American Issues. Whatever it was, it’s gone now. I’m trying to decide whether this means I should be drinking more or less.

***

I am sitting at my computer on a beautiful day. What is the matter with me?

I drove my father to the airport this morning. He’s gone back to Hong Kong to visit with relatives for a while. I had wanted to go, but I didn’t have money, and I had thought, when I made my decision, that I would be working right now.

It is good though to have the house all to myself. I can pretend, while he is gone, that I am a normal person my age, with my own place. If I had friends, and didn’t live so far from civilization, I could even throw a party.

I’m waiting for an official rejection from the Asian fellowship that I applied for. Once I get that out of the way, I can start to pursue my other goals, such as getting wasted, and figuring out how to apply to grad school, and maybe finding a new job. On the other hand, I’m still holding out some hope of getting that fellowship, which would allow me to get wasted, figure out how to apply to grad school, and find a new job.

***

Is it possible to be stuck and adrift at the same time?

***

I had a dream the other night that I was in a strange city and apartment hunting. For the first time in a long time, I felt like something was about to change, and I was ready for it. But then I got up and I started to think about what moving away would entail, and I just don’t think I have it in me right now.

It seems like “I don’t have it in me right now” has been my excuse for everything that has (not) happened in the past five years. How can “had it lost it” (Sick Boy’s grand unifying theory) work if one never has it in the first place? Or maybe the sad truth is that I lost it, whatever it was, in college.

***

On a more cheerful note, Valentine’s Day is approaching. Even as I am writing this, there are legions of girls out there just licking their chops at the chance to redeem my worthless life with an admission of love. I can see them now, waiting in ambush for me outside my door or hiding in the backseat of my car (that particular girl is very small). It’s a shame that they won’t catch me for I will be too busy spending the entirety of February 14th in bed, beneath my batman blanket, which I’ll be using to wipe away my pathetic tears.

I feel GRRR-REAT!