Monday, November 29, 2004

NY Journal # 19

Monday, November 29, 2004

"Let's stop in at Myers of Keswick, ...I swear, every time I go there, there's always at least one absolutely beautiful girl there"
I said this to Matt as we walked up Hudson, checking out the Hudson neighborhood more thoroughly and just generally walking to walk and explore.
Myers of Keswick is an everything-British store for homesick Englanders and those who appreciate the few delectable treats among their admitedly, not-so-envied cuisine. Pasties, pork pies, bangers, rashers, Scotch eggs, Penguin chocolates, wine gummies, a dozen variations of malt vinegar, you name it, they've got it, mate. I love going in there mostly because it is so quintissentially English and damn it if the product names aren't often hilarious (Morton's Mushy Peas, Baxter's Cock-a-Leekie soup, etc). Truth be told though, the store seems to be a magnet for beautiful ladies. It might just be a magnet for beautiful people in general. I wouldn't know because I'm always distracted by the stunning lasses and the food shelves I then try to refocus on so as not to stare at said lovelies. I'm not just talking "hey, look, a beautiful girl"... if it were that easy, I wouldn't be mentioning it. No, I'm talking a-choir-of-angels-singing-in-harmony beautiful, the kind where nouns and verbs fall away to leave you fumbling naked with a bunch of adverbs and adjectives.
Ok, so they're not always This beautiful, but on Saturday, the lovely lady was none other than Ms Liv Tyler. And if you think she might not be as beautiful in person as she appears on film .... fuggetabowtit. she's more. Even with (or possibly because of) very little make-up and a big ol' pregnant belly, waddling around the store.
- ab-so-lute-ly stunning. The common public refrain of "how is she a product of Aerosmith-A*hole Steven Tyler??" rang loud... there was no discernable sign I saw in person that they're related, nothing that isn't there on tv or film.
She's just stunning, perfect. ridiculously so. He looks like an ass's ass looking into an ass-mirror of infinity.
Soo... needless to say, I forgot what I was thinking about buying from the store and ended up leaving.
The End.

Wednesday, November 24, 2004
Hi, I'm John Stewart and welcome to the Daily Show....!
On Tuesday! I will hear those words LIVE. finally! Matt & I called in for tickets 5 or 6 months ago and it's finally time to go!
I feel like I'm getting to see Santa Claus appear on the Easter Bunny show with additional guests, the Tooth Fairy and Godzilla. music by Mr T.
As if that wasn't good enough, we Also have tickets for Dec 7th..! HA!~

I still need to arrange tickets for Saturday Night Live, Conan O'Brien and the John MacEnroe Show (before it gets nixed). While I was in calif. I'd entertained the notion of going to / taking my mom to the Ellen Degeneres show though it ended up not working out, time-wise. too bad, 'cause Ellen is funnier'n all'get'up. If anyone knows what that phrase means or where it comes from, please tell me 'cause I keep using it.

Tuesday, November 23, 2004
The injuries pile higher.....
or ..things, that suck - a lot:

- The Raiders season is officially over. so sad. so very very sad.
- my home laptop is on it's last legs, it seems. Not even Tron could save its fizzling, sketchy video chip.
- speaking of which, my Tron DVD is glitching at one spot in the movie. Grr!
- people still think office building bathroom stalls are fair game for talking to me or placing phone calls. Hi, are you not aware that You're On The Toilet?!
- Ending new friendships is hard even when all signs and friends point to it being absolutely necessary. Sometimes you really -shouldn't- look past the bad.
- being woken up at 2:47am by kitten ruckus.
- being woken up at 4:36am by kitten ruckus.
- being woken up at 5:36am by kitten ruckus.
- being woken up at 6:51am by kitten ruckus.
- not having health insurance.
- not being able to sit in a warm Washington Square Park for hours on end.
- the next four years. politically speaking.
- vaccuum cleaners, ant eaters, pool filters.

Saturday, November 20, 2004
Ok already. fine,... I get it, yes - I'm ready for a girlfriend. or ... casual dating. or 'whatever'. I prefer blondes, redheads and brunettes. I'd like it if they were tall or short or of medium height. Really, I'm not picky, so long as they're perfect. Deliveries can be made to: ♦♦♦ Washington Place Apt 14 (rear bedroom) - NY, NY 10014. Please provide air holes and food in your shipping container.

Thursday, November 18, 2004
Another week, another shock....

First off, I should apologize for basically subjecting you to reading what amounts to 'my diary' - obviously or not, the journals didn't start out this way. Perhaps I should be less candid with the details of my mom's deteriorating condition. And then I remember that when it comes down to it, I've been writing for a historical record of this part of my life, to look back on later and hopefully process in mentally healthy ways that I cant seem to do right now.
Sooo.. this is for me. If you're curious and voyeuristic (aren't we all?) - read on. this being said of course, to those of you I haven't lost already with tales of gloom and impending death. Not really sunshine and lollipop bedtime reading, I know.

Yesterday, I got a call from my dad, his voice low and reserved in an all too familiar 'harbinger of bad news' way. I paddled through the small talk which seems understandably necessary in some way but is also a frustrating formality that only heightens the anxiety of not knowing what is behind door number one. It seems that behind door number one, my mom fell the night before. Fell. Sounds benign, right? It would be, if she had been able to lift herself off of the ground. Or if my 72 year old, 5'10", 130lb dad were able to. The fall occured trying to transfer my mom from wheelchair to couch, a distance of... 8 inches. My mom stood from the wheelchair but ... for lack of a better way to put it... then didn't know how to turn around and sit down. What followed was a heart wrenching story of them struggling to drag and pull her along the floor to get to the two recessed steps of the living room, so that they might get leverage and get her to her feet. There have been other falls, mostly in the bedroom or kitchen - a problem that for a few weeks now has greatly increased the importance of getting hospice help.
Yesterday, my dad's call was to inform me that he was going to have to move her into the hospice home that her mother had lived her last days in (alzheimers). The level of care my mom needed was beyond my dad's physical capabilities and even a live-in helper wouldn't, as far as my dad knew, be able to handle all the various tasks that needed to get done or physicality required to lift my 6'2" mom. Long story, short: my mom Very Much did Not like that idea. My brother said he would take an unpaid leave from his job for 3 months to come up there and help, I was against the hospice home idea for a number of reasons but... I'm not there, so I sort of feel I have less right to imput on the topic. Friends and family friends supported my dad in his decision, knowing that he is going to end up hurting himself if he continues being her caretaker. Still, I felt I would regret it if I didn't suggest in no uncertain terms that I thought mom would really suffer emotionally from the stigma of being placed in a home, the same home her mother had been sent to, a home, obviously, to die. I gently explained / suggested that there are live-in hospice workers that Will do it all, from cooking and cleaning to helping with physical tasks like lifting, helping with showers, etc. He said he would seriously give it a lot of thought over the night but that the hospice home had a rare spot open now so.... that's probably what they would do.
A call from my dad, this morning - reprieve. No hospice home. Again, nearly in tears, my dad told me that this really needs to be about her and her last days, her happiness and well being. She deserves better, he said. Funny.... I listened and agreed with a detatched sense of relief when he told me - now, that brings me to tears. Ok, maybe that's not so funny. but maybe That's funny that it's not funny? me thinks I do digress......
She Does deserve better. Of course, she deserves to not have brain cancer at all. Most people, falling short of evil, dont deserve sickness - not that it's my place to dole out sickness or determine who deserves what, good or bad.
Does it really just come down to life's roulette spin and that little white ball that plinks across the numbers of the different fates your life could land on? There is something both reassuring and deathly scary in the blind randomness of that.

Wednesday, November 17, 2004

NY Journal # 18

Wednesday, November 17, 2004
excerpt from overheard cubical chatter:
coworker # 1 - oh crap
coworker # 2 - "oh crap". that seems to be a popular curse these days
coworker # 1 - ya, isn't it..?
coworker # 2 - i wonder where that started
coworker # 1 - you know what? i think Raymond's father started that...
coworker # 2 - Raymond's father?
coworker # 1 - ya, from Everybody Loves Raymond. I've been watching it for years and he always says "oh crap"

Tuesday, November 16, 2004
Still loving.......
- this city for a dozen nameable reasons and ten dozen unnameable reasons.

- my crazy-bastard kitties. as crazy-bastard-y as they are, even.
- my tiny apartment with it's tiny tiny bathroom.
- the internet for keeping me from finding out if 'bored to death' is just a saying or not.
- the East coast, for it's weather and folliage, it's accents and neighborhoods.
- my neighborhood, for it's proximity to everything.... or a train to everything.
- each different country-cuisine of food i try almost daily.
- the human Frogger game played whilst navigating people and car traffic.
- excercise... though lethargy and the recent cold try to keep me from it.
- friends and family. ok, some friends, ..all family.
- the subway system.
- the fact that the above is now on this list and not the one below.
Still NOT loving........
- Monday Night Football starting at 9pm Eastern, ending after midnight.
- anything that occurs before 8am. anything.
- 51% of the American public and 'their' next four years.
- crazy people.
- mean people.
- crazy mean people.
- the self important.
- the self deluded.
- the self obsessed.
- the self referential.
- the self sabotaging.
- the self absorbed.

Friday, November 12, 2004

Today's math work.....
38° + light rain / umbrella = no problem
38° + light rain + any-amount-of-wind / ±umbrella = kill me.
Flapjack + bathmat = issues.
Flapjack + (bathmat+issues) / kory-annoyed = Flapjack-bathmat-issues-continue.
Flapjack + (bathmat+issues) / kory-amused = Flapjack-bathmat-issues-cease.
so far at least.
weekly work paycheck = $60 > unemployment insurance weekly check
working with music = 1000% > working with NO musicworking with no music = kill me.

Wednesday, November 10, 2004
-11/09/04 6:23pm - bathmat found lying just outside of bathroom
-11/09/04 9:49pm - bathmat found lying just outside of bathroom
-11/10/04 4:36am - bathmat found lying just outside of bathroom

Excerpt rom the illustrious
Nation's Poor Win Election for Nation's Rich"The Republican party—the party of industrial mega-capitalists, corporate financiers, power brokers, and the moneyed elite—would like to thank the undereducated rural poor, the struggling blue-collar workers in Middle America, and the God-fearing underpriviledged minorities who voted George W. Bush back into office," Karl Rove, senior advisor to Bush, told reporters at a press conference Monday. "You have selflessly sacrificed your well-being and voted against your own economic interest. For this, we humbly thank you." Added Rove: "You have acted beyond the call of duty—or, for that matter, good sense."--------full story here

Tuesday, November 09, 2004
Cold.... so very cold. somewhere between 33° and 40°. - I'd almost forgotten what that felt like. I still love the cold, mind you, but cold -and- wind together... when it was just 60something° two days ago is a bit of a shocker. to the leaves of trees as well, it seems. within one week, i'd say all trees have lost at least half their yellowed leaves. quite lovely- though it's so cold, it feels like no one is noticing.Not much else to report, really. my hair is getting too long, already. thanksgiving approaches, planless-ly so.OH, i Do have news... we have a new bathmat. ok, contain yourselves, as excited as you are right now, there's more to the story. And that is that my dear, lovely Flapjack does not seem to like this bath-mat inhabiting the bath-room. Over a dozen times now, I've gone down the hallway to find that the bathmat has been dragged out of the bathroom... as if I had served him with a dog scented eviction notice he didn't want to acknowledge. I've tried to reason with him, I've shown him Pro's & Con's lists oh having a bathmat in... oh... say... the bath room, I've even tried bribes. He seems to agree, but then, the next day, there it is again. The first time it happened, I thought it was funny. The second through... let's say seventh time it happened, I was kind of annoyed. Now, I think I look forward to finding it in the hallway because it is... well,... Daaamn funny. It's a crucial battle of will's at this point. If I lose, he will own me. I can not let that happen. Victory will be mine.

Saturday, November 06, 2004

NY Journal # 17

Saturday, November 06, 2004
Soooo, you know when you think some actor is great, -as in: not your #1-favorite-of-all-time, but Really Great, as in one of your favorite characters on one of your favorite shows and maybe you're kinda jealous of 'em and admiring of how successful they are and their acting skill and how that could have been you maybe if you'd have stuck with acting and maybe the actor got nominated for an Emmy and then -won it- and how that made you happy when they did. And say, they open a new playhouse in the city with a play that sounds interesting and you send the details to your roommate and you both say "hell ya, let's go see it!" and then the very next day..... that actor comes and sits directly across from you on the subway train? I know. it happens all the time, right? Ya, today was my first. Sure, I've seen Mario Batali about 5 times now and ya, I like his shows even though he's unbearably annoying and no I dont know how I can like him despite all of that.... but this would be my first star sighting (Julianne Moore excluded - only 'cause she was so hot for me when I first saw her at the cupcake place) that I really valued and well... damn it... i woulda had something non-dorky to say. Oh right. the person. you probably dont even know him but maybe you do. heck, it's not important that You wouldn't know him 'cause, of course, the world is MY oyster and I just had two martinis (what?) Anyway, the actor in question is Michael Imperioli of ... well, he's been in a lot, but mostly known as Christopher Moltisanti, on the Sopranos. He and his wife recently opened Studio Dante and Ponies is the play I want to see. Soo... not that I needed to say anything to him but of course that didn't stop the scenario from playing itself out in my head -- as I would be nearing my station, I'd say "Are you Michael Imperioli?" - he'd say: yes - I'd say: "I dig your work - I'm going to be getting tickets for Ponies actually, it sounds great - keep up the good work" - then he'd say "hey, you ever done any acting? I've got a part you'd be great for on the Sopranos... here's the directors number.... come to think of it, you should meet my sister, she's hot, you'd like her" ..... and then I would wake up, having missed my train stop. Before I even played out my imagined future as the newest hot acting god, drunk on women and an overabundance of money, this is what I heard from the ... yes... Other End Of The Train - LOUDLY: "EXCUUUUUSE ME?!?!?!" - it's obvious to me, she wants his attention - he ignores it - HA! coool as ice - good for you - "EXCUUUSE ME?!??!! Are you that Sopranos Guy????!!!!!" - he looks up with a forced but friendly, practiced smile "ya" - her: "OH THAT's great! i love the Sopranos! i loved that episode when you got shot! yeaaa" - him: "hey, thank you, I'm glad you ... like the show" - HA! nice word choice! her: "yeah, it's awesome" - him: "well, thanks, I appreciate that" - - - 2 stops later, her son comes down & nervously says "Hi, I'm sorry, can I get a picture with you?" - this time, with genuine friendliness "Sure, no problem" - his wife then.... gets up... to... make more room for the photo I guess (??) and in classic-Imperioli-awesomeness, he smirk-laughs and says to her in full Sopranos NJ mob accent "hey, where you goin'??? what? you cant be in the picture???" - the mother comes over, like she's about to take some paparazzi photo she can hawk to the tabloids and says "Ok, now say... i dunno, "fugetabowtit" or, i dunno, something from the Sopranos!" - he deadpans it - not a grimmace or smile or any kind of acknowledgement to her supreme idiocy. If I would have been drinking milk, it would have been shooting out of my nose from trying not to laugh. Picture done, Imperioli makes a conscious point for eye contact while shaking the kids hand, they then leave him and his wife to the movie section of the newspaper they'd been trying to read.Did I overdescribe the scene? no, that's really what happened. Was any of it really of any major significance? not really. Would I rather have been the one to, ... firstly - Know his actual name and not call him "that sopranos guy" and then,.. paid him an Informed compliment and mention something NOT related to the Sopranos? Yes, yes I would have. I suspect he would have as well. Instead I got to witness the boorish side of fame worship - celebrity-sighting-gawkers in action.
god I love this city.


Friday, November 05, 2004
If you voted like I did....... I feel your pain. so much, it hurts. a lot.real pain. real physical pain. if i needed more reason to cry - thanks, America. thanks, small town was hard enough holding on to the last vestige of pride in my citizenship. I'm obviously not alone (and no that's not me in the first picture)as if I needed to be shown this to know it was true. or this.once might have been a fluke, this however.....51% is an admission that more than half of us have no heart, no brain and no soul.(Wizard of Oz analogy intended) this might be the most all encompassing article summarizing our pain .....strike that... this is.what can we do now? move? that'd be an admission that the terroris... i mean... Republicans won. for now, just hug someone.

Thursday, November 04, 2004

Currently ReadingRevelation SpaceBy Alastair Reynolds

Back in NY.... what to say? the week in Irvine was somewhat draining, off-and-on sad, often frustrating. I thought that deadened was the wrong word for what I've been feeling about my mom's condition, mostly due to the word-associative feel but Merriam Webster seems to point to it being accurate. Also accurate are it's Synonyms: benumb[ed], blunt[ed], desensitize[d], dull[ed], mull[ed], numb[ed] - all because of the Related Words cumulative effect, I have been: anesthetize[d], paralyze[d], unnerve[d]; stun[ned], stupef[ied] by the reality confronting her. and only by extension, me. I can think of and talk about the situation with a detatched objectivity, as if telling a story about a fictional Kory and his family. If not for the irreverance of it, I would find it a fascinating psychological study into grief and the prolonged sickness and preperation for the loss of a parent. And yet, not even irreverent is the right word for it. To say that I dont have the proper respect and seriousness is just not right. I'm fully aware of what is going to happen, and to put it plainly, I am not screaming out "NOOOO" inside... as I guess I thought I would be. Why? I dont know. Have I moved on to the 'acceptance' phase of grief..?¤ Shock - yep, felt it, feel it, will probably continue to feel it...¤ Denial - ya, same here, perhaps my detachment springs from an intentional misconception that this is happening to someone else.¤ Bargaining - i think this one might just be for religious folks. I haven't made any deals with the devil or god to spare anyone... ¤ Fear - well, ya, duh... a spoonful of fear-sugar helps human-ness go down.¤ Anger - "ya, it's terminal brain cancer, a-hole, think that might be serious?" - That's a little thoughts I've had at times when people ask me if she's "going to be ok".. I appreciate the concern, I do, I know it's an awkward subject - I guess it's just that we're just a little more sensitive to stupid questions these days.¤ Despair - I had to look up despair to see what Exactly it meant. Can you lose all hope if the time for hope came to an end? ¤ Acceptance - this is the part I question... Am I really there yet? perhaps I'm just accepting of one of the many barrages of shock-and-awe-bad-news that's rained down upon us. Each new bit from the doctors and MRI results has brought the stages of grief to call. Which I think has made the acceptance phase easier to bear each time. A reality, almost impossibly hard to accept has been forced on us repeatedly to this point where "ya, ok, i get it" - it's ending. Does that make me calloused? Is 'deadened' a cruel word to use to describe my current state? Is my openness and honesty in talking about it irreverent or accepting...?
A new topic for tomorrow, I promise.

Monday, November 01, 2004
JOURNAL ENTRYSo.... the major dilemma for my dad seems to be this 'hospice care' thing. And to what degree someone will be helping out, in the home or in -a- home. I guess it's a major admission that the end is near and that hope to overcome the cancer has been given up. For 17 months now they have been practicing an active act-and-react hope system (surgery, then hope) and then denial when the cancer came back - for good reason of course - up until a few weeks ago, there was always another step they could try. As the available surgical and medical options have vanished, a positive attitude has been harder to maintain. All of this coupled with the fact that my dad is now doing his job and her job and assisting in most of her basic daily functions including eating.... ya, they need help. no need to elaborate on that. So now my dad is trying to figure out if they need someone 7am-7pm or someone live-in or someone to visit a few times a day or every other day or whether a hospice home is more approprite. All of this has been mentioned to me with questions as to what level of involvement i think a hospice helper should be helping. I am of course strongly opposed to any sort of hospice home that my mom would be sent to. I cant think of anything worse to end one's days than to be sent somewhere to die. Of course, I am not living here and dealing with the pain day to day and i feel a bit guilty for even interjecting my opinion on him when he is the one in the middle of the storm. ok. mom and hospice lady are done w/ the shower. off to hang w/ the moms.

Sunday, October 31, 2004
In Irvine, CA:
° kids trick-or-treat at shopping malls. not department-store-type malls, but supermarket-and-31-flavors type malls. Really. a lot of them. like a whole lot. like more than you remember being out and about in your neighborhood growing up.
° kids do Not trick or treat in their home neighborhoods. Why? is actual community involvement and comingling something of the past? or for 'other' neighborhoods?
° Iranians are everywhere. No really. every - where. look, there's one now.
° At the local supermarket, in the deli section, the sandwichboards listing the different cuisines you can choose from read as following: Sandwiches - Persian - Mexican.
° If you do not have a car you are A) under the legal driving age. B) too old to drive. C) carpooling (if you've spent any time in Southern California, you are laughing hysterically right now - there is no such thing as carpooling)
° smog is the thing hanging over L.A., off in the distance - not your problem, keep driving.
° shopping malls (the dept store kind) are what there is to do for evening entertainment.
° the "lowest crime rate in the country" stats are watched ever so closely to make sure Irvine has not dipped from # 1 status.
° Eating out is, as it is in Texas, the norm, not the exception. - in fact, aside from the Iranians, maybe this could be a list of why Irvine is like Texas list.
° where my parents are.
° oh- the anti-mall. what's the anti-mall..? I'm glad you asked. it's a hilarious collection of counter-culture type stores which in itself defines itself as mass culture even though it's not even though it is even though it's not even though it is.. maybe it's the poetry readings that lend that aire of anarchistic authenticity. Oh AND THE parking validation!!