art idea

if i had the time, i would make a set of collages with the same theme. the background would be a forest fire- a wall of flame, maybe with the visible treetops towards the top of the picture. then, in the foreground, would be the silhouettes of people. but in stead of the obligatory forest-fire fighter silhouettes, it would be happy domestic activities... liek a kid flying a kite, peopel playing catch, or a father tossing a son up in the air to catch him, or kids doing jump-rope. etc. just an idea.

no rush

i'm pissed off today.  keep in mind, that's saying a lot- i rarely get pissed off.  it's a lot of things.   i don't express anger very well.  where does it go?

my cat is gone.  i miss him and i am sad.   i hope he's OK.  i'm going to leave it at that.

and i went to the bank today and the stupid teller wouln't let me cash a $25 check because it was made out to me and my wife.  i wanted to tear up the check in her face and say: "you see this- you have wasted $25 dollars of my time, coming all the way here just to find out that i can't cash this stupid little check.  here! (as i hold out my cupped hands and blow the shredded check into her face) this is what i think of your policy!"  of course, if i had actually done that, i would not be here right now.  i would be relaying this story to my cell mates in a holding facility somewhere.

i have a lot of reading to do for work.  lately, practically every night i've been sitting down for 2 hours or so after my son is sleeping and i've completed various chores aroudn my house, and reading stuff for work at my dining room table.  i usually have to drink a lot of caffine to stay awake.  last night i fell asleep and drolled on the table for 1/2 an hour, right after finishing a can of diet mountain dew.  when i woke up i had some gold fish and opened another can.  the stuff i read is interesting stuff about my new job; but it can also put you to sleep after a while.  i'm less distracted and i get more done when i read in the dining room.  i bring my little portable radio over to the table and set it up to listen to either jazz 88.3, wfmu 99.1, or 94.? wnyc.  the trick is to get music that includes no singing whatsoever- or at least in singing in english.  the singing distracts me and i find myself listening to the singing and not concentrating on reading.  sometimes i'll be listening to jazz, enjoying the backround music while reading, and someone will start crooning and i'll think to myself - dammit, why do they have to ruin a perfectly good song with this jerk!   so then i'll go to wnyc and see if "new sounds" is on.  and so on.  it's easier to listen to predictable study-music while sitting at my desk downstairs in the office, because i can listen to internet archives of wfmu or wnyc.   it's also nice because i can look up words and medical/chemistry/pharmacy terms on the computer too.  and furthermore i don't feel like i'm on display in a fishbowl for my neighbors (the dining room is plainly visible from the street due to the many windows.  the drawbacks are: it's easy to get distracted by web surfing;  the light is not as good; the desk is not conducive to reading (no room to spread out), and other stuff.

in order to make myself feel better about my cat, i cleaned the fish bowl last night.  the fish doesn't really have a name.  we got him(?) for free.  he seemed to appreciate having new water and being fed.  he gets excited when he sees you coming, because he figures it's feeding time.  the cat was the same way.  i think that's just about all they have in common.  that and it's a pain in the ass to clean up their shit.  but i don't mind, really.  there's still cat litter to be cleaned downstairs; i suppose i'll get to that sooner or later.  no rush.  the cat is gone.

i had two dreams last night-
1) i bought life insurance, telling the agent 'it's about time', and that rates were bound to rise, and then...
2) at the mall i intervene to stop some houdlums from taounting my brother in law (who is brain damaged), and they threaten me with knives and bring me to the MAC machine to make me draw out money, and i'm trying to think of how to get away while we wait in line, but then the dream ends!

beach

we were at LBI this weekend. it was fun. e.w. was a handfull sometimes, but we had a good time all in all. the ocean was nice. not too cold, certainly not too warm. it was partly sunny. a good mix of hot sun and cool breezes. i had yummy scallops, shrimp and flounder. and amazing cold cuts from an awesome authentic italian deli in surf city. unstoppable. they have meat, and amazing olives, and all this pre-cooked stuff as well as ingredients. you just buy fish accross the street at the market, and then buy everything else there. instant feast.

have i moved?

have you ever been sitting at your desk and looking at your computer and suddenly think to yourself: 'what the F have i been doing for the past 30 minutes? what is happening, have i moved recently? can i move? ...' etc..

jumping the gun

i was at columbia presbyterian hospital in manhattan, looking on while one of my colleagues from the netherlands show a pediatric anesthesiologist how to use a hand-held stimulating device to monitor neuromuscular blockade.

there were six of us crammed into a rental car. it fit six people, technically, but i was all the way in the back and my head hit the ceiling. the girl next to me was on my deaf side, and she kept talking to me and being nice, but i was uncomfortable because i really couldn't hear her half the time. there was a lot of traffic.

when we got to the the hospital, valet parking took the car. we all just sort of filed in the building, no one really knew where we were headed, apparently. we all got on the first elevator we saw. i was last on, standing by the control panel. the door closed and i said "what floor?"... silence. one guy said "10th". i pushed the "10" button, and it lit up and we started moving. on the way up we decided that we really had no idea where we were going, and that we should go back down and ask at the desk, so i pushed "1". when the door opened, no one moved; but we saw the sign across the hall on the wall and someone said "hey, it's anesthesia!". i couldn't read the letters, i couldn't focus. i stuck my hand out and stopped the doors from closing. by a stroke of luck, we were in exactly the right place.

the young doctor met us in the hallway, and admitted that he was surprised to see us. "great. people usually call from downstairs, and i have to go down and get them". we all played along.

we met the sr. anesthesiologists right around the corner. a man and a woman. one was wearing a white coat and casual clothes; she was "academic" today. the guy was in scrubs, he was in and out of surgery. "i'm paired with a first-year this week, i've got to stick close to him- i'll see you guys after lunch". so we had to do the whole presentation twice, once for each doctor.

the young guy lead us to a moderately sized conference room. the walls on one side were lined with rows of medicals. some were old, bound, ugly colors, like 30-year old virgin reference books in the library; others were thick magazines.

there were three or four different kinds of chairs. some were leather swivel chairs, old but nice. others were cheap, upholstered, basic chairs- one of which was notably dirty. there was a water cooler, flanked by crates with big water jugs- some empty, some full. by the door was a mini-fridge, a microwave, and a coffee machine. i think the coffee machine was not in use, there was only instant coffee on the counter. the microwave was old, used, tired but faithfully functioning. the fridge was black, with a white sheet on the front that said "on friday july 9th this refrigerator will be emptied- please remove your belongings or they will be discarded." it's after july 9th. the thing was still filled with crap. i know this because 20 minutes into the meeting this guy came in and made tea. judging by the way he acted, he seemed to think that if he pretended that it wasn't a big deal that he was barging in on our meeting, and just mater-of-fact-ly went about his business, that it therefore would not interrupt or distract us. on his way out i caught the door behind him, and switched the sign on the front from "vacant" to "occupied". one of the research nurses looked at me briefly, nodding approvingly.

i pretty much didn't say anything, but just listened. one lady took out the kit and showed everyone how it worked. a power-point presentation. then another guy took over and hooked himself up to the monitor, and the monitor to his laptop. we got a live demonstration. he attached the electrodes to his arm and made his thumb twitch with little shocks to his ulnar nerve. once i chimed in during his presentation, because i thought he accidentally skipped something important- but a second after it came out of my mouth- i realized that maybe he was just about to say it. he politely followed up on my comment and continued. later, i apologized and told him i was sorry if i jumped the gun. he joked with me a bit but then assured me it was no big deal.

yeah, so my new job now involves traveling to research hospitals and clinics around the northeast, initiating/running/monitoring clinical research.

on the way out of the hospital another colleague of mine sat down on a bench to have a well-deserved cigarette after our long meeting upstairs on the 10th floor. she got to talking with a lady next to her. she learned the sad, sad story of this lady's son, who was tragically stricken ill while visiting new york on vacation. i'll spare you the details, but it would make you cry. my colleague relayed the story to me while we drove back to the office. as with any tragic story involving children, i immediately thought of my wife and son, and i wondered if they were OK. (sometimes, when i get this feeling i call my wife's cell phone to see if they are OK. hearing my son's voice instantly makes me feel better.) my colleague went on to say that she has a daughter the same age as the tragically ill boy, and it made her sad, but also gave her some perspective. she vowed to be more appreciative of what she has. i agreed. then i lamented that i will probably be prone to the same thing: finding myself on the receiving end of outrageous and tragic tales told by strangers in hospitals. i explained that i used to believe i had "tell me your problems" written across my forehead; because eve since high school i've always found that people are prone to opening up to me and telling me details about their lives. (after all, this is why i became a peer counselor in college, it came naturally.) she agreed, and said she feels like the same thing happens to her a lot. has been doing this job for a few years, so she's probably heard a lot of crazy things. but she must not spend a lot of time in big cities like new york; because while we were talking, she took notice of a street vendor in the middle of the road, selling hot dogs to people in cars who were inching along in traffic. she thought it was really weird.

more and more

so e.w. is talking more and more; he's totally a little boy. in stead of feeding him bottles and baby mushy food; he eats pizza, likes to read, swim, and watch tv. on the 4th of july i gave him a little american flag and he was just running around the yard, waving it back and forth and giggling - pure unadulterated bliss. amazing. also, recently we're trying to get him to recognize when he's done something wrong, like spill somehting on purpose, and get him to say "i'm sorry" and help clean it up. which isn't easy...

'No man is happy without a delusion of some kind. Delusions are as necessary to our happiness as realities.'
— Christian Nestell Bovee, American author (1820-1904)

discussing lake revelrey

Tiiime to: break scales, toss chairs, pass out on docks, piss on Aunts, trash the woods, smash a chick, feel remorse, piss in a cup, throw shit, kayak on the porch, have your dad walk around our passed-out bodies, get lost in the woods after 'ditching' everyone, skinny dip in broad daylight, build a fire while drunk in the woods and go into a trance and write a poem in a notebook and then burn a hole in the poem, while standing around drinking at a party- suddenly drop your beer and jump in a nearby canoe and paddle away very quickly in the pitch black of night for no reason and lay down on your back and listen to the sound of your beating heart in the silence while contemplating the stars, dive off the high dive with a 30-pack box on yr head, zip your friend into a very large abanoned suitcase and drag him down the road, and pass out in an abandoned ice cream freezer at the beach.

i have to find the time

several amazzing little anec dote tid bits from my weekend should really be blogged, but i have to find the time...

like this guy at breakfast at the B&B in new hope who gave us his mini life-story about how he was recently in a motorcycle accident that crushed his foot and he hasn't been able to go to work at his job as a mechanic...

or my dream last night that my father and i were smashing the tooth-pick homes of a colony of very tiny people who were infesting the shallow-water areas of estling lake.

Terminal

I want to have an electronic project called Terminal.

These song titles would be songs.

I'd create the songs on pro tools. I'd take, like, a guitar note, and pour the effects on, loop it, invert it, twist it, add shit, then pile it on.

So it'd be real machine-like drones for 45 minutes, no singing.

- by the IOD

we have no chemistry

over an expensive dinner and fine alkaline wine,
my longing ions reach out for your hands across
this white-linen periodic table of elements;
but all you have to offer are some noble gasses

a little justice in a baseball park

the last baseball game i went to was a yankees game - i caught a ball, a line drive into the seats that bounced around a bit first and came to me across a few empty seats nearby. some dude behind tried to grab it from me, but i hunched over and covered it up... i stood up and held it up, and showed it to my brother in law, etc., celebrating and feeling pretty cool.

and just then i saw some dude being lead away by park staff and friends, he was bleeding from his lip... the ball had hit him in the face before it came to me... i chased the guy down in the hall and gave him the ball. he seemed generally appreciative, but was primarily concerned with, you know, the bleeding. when i came out of the hall and back to my seat, empty-handed, the crowd in the area broke into applause... and that felt better then catching the ball!

that thing you do

i am picturing you doing that thing where you pretend to shoot yourself in the head with a gun in each hand, one pointed at each temple, and you pretend that the bullets collide inside as you make the noise of your head exploding like a juicy watermelon.

scent of a woman

i just called this doctor's office in upstate NY, and when the lady answered, i could smell her perfume. seriously! it was wierd.

what i ate today

'i ate a live, skwawking, flapping, wild turkey, who bled all over my desk, crapped on my mousepad, and pecked me a few times in the face.'

the problem is the morning after

friday night i took E to the playground and then stayed home and studied neuroscience while my wife went out to dinner with her friend camel for her birthday. satuday we went to the lake with E, and took him to the beach to meet brett and mike b., where we played in the sand, on the swings, and put E's feet in the water. then we, mike, brett, etc. went to stewarts in denville for ice cream floats and dinner for E. i had a cheese steak, even though my cholesterol is like, 500. later on, my wife stayed home while E slept, and i went to the lake for an evening of estling lake decacdence at allison's house. i drank many beers, played a$$hole and flip-cup, etc. etc. there's like a while new crowd of younger kids who maintained a healthy huddle in one area, and the old-school crew of allison-robin-bryan-brian-erin-catherine, but also a few really younger (frosh in college) kids who i didn't even recognize- they all looked like they were in grade schoool to me(!).... i had a red bull and cut and run at midnight. who knows after that... sunday we took it easy and hung out with my wife's parents, but i went home in the afternoon to mow the lawn and stuff, while my wife took E to the zoo. i wish i could have gone, but the lawn won't mow itself! we went out to dinner at a chinese resturant, and i asked for my meal spicy, saying: "i don't want to go to the hospital, but you know, in that ballpark". it was barely, barely, mildly hot. it's like you have to grab the person and shake them and scream, "i'm not kidding god dammit, make it spicy!" what are they afraid of? if it was up to me, i would have just gone to a thai place, you never have that problem there! the only problem is the morning after... it's like if you're the non-asian guy in a chinese resturant and you say "please make it spicy, i'm not kidding", they are trained to tell the cook "there's a white guy out there who thinks he knows what spicy is, but obviously he's delusionsal. please add a few dozen molecules of hot sauce and i think that'll be enough". asking for spices on the side is an alternative, but it's not only demoralizing, but it's never as good as when it's cooked in... that's why thai food rocks. even the ice water is hot.

cat names

yesterday at lunch we discussed the merits of naming your cat or dog after your favorite alcohol. i have a cat, so i thought of it mainly in that context. if i was getting a new cat- what drink would i name it after?

10. 'Michelob'
9. 'triplesec'
8. 'grappa'
7. 'Bud'
6. 'moonshine'
5. 'merlot'
4. 'Schnapps'
3. 'Jonny Walker'
2. 'chianti'
1. 'Captain Morgan'

da da deuce

e.w.'s good. he's talking more and more. i've lost count. every day something new. he's climbing more, and being more adventurous. my wife was was worried that he is too cautious. but he's getting there

his thing lately is to give big smooches when you pick him up.

he loves dr suess. or, "da da duece", as he says it.

last night, for the first time in quite a while, he fell asleep on me while i read to him, right before bedtime. it was the best just to have him on my lap, all still and peaceful, breathing, warm. i seriously considered just sitting there in the rocking chair and enjoying it for the whole night, but in stead, i gently picked him up, and while continuing to recite the last few pages of the book (which i have memorized), i laid him down in the crib and tucked him in and said goodnight.

da da duce

update on my son: E's good. he's talking more and more. i've lost count. every day brings something new. he's clibming more, and being more adventurous. my wife was worried that he was a wuss, but i think he's just cautious. he's getting there.

his thing lately is to give you big smooches when you pick him up.

he loves dr suess. or, "da da duece", as he says it.

last night, for the first time in quite a while, he fell asleep on me while i read to him, right before bedtime. it was the best just to have him on my lap, all still and peaceful, breathing, warm. i seriously considered just sitting there in the rocking chair and enjoying it for the whole night; but in stead, i gently picked him up, and while continuing to recite the last few pages of the book (which i have memorized), i laid him down in the crib and tucked him in and said goodnight.