I texted my neighbor a couple hours ago, "that was a shot right?"
Outside, I heard a firecracker or a shot, but I was thinking it was a shot.
"What?" he responded, an hour later.
"Earlier," I said.
"Nah," he said.
We do hear shots sometimes, we agree...some yahoo with a shotgun across the lake, the lake through the woods behind us. This is not a high crime area at all, and our complex management has even hired a security guard who I am afraid of who drives slowly in an SUV with more colored lights than Christmas. It made me think of other scary sounds from outside that I have heard while inside, lately, twice in the last couple of months, my coworkers and I have heard horrifying slams on breaks, screeches and subsequent crunches on the street outside. One time, it was a lady from another department of our company who pulled out of the parking lot in front of some BMW and got hit. She was okay. Everybody was okay.
Back to today and away from those extended thoughts and memories, today I was running around with a friend who I always get into weird goofy non-dangerous situations with. Today he wanted to take me to some place he thought was a park, but it was actually a reservation-required convention/retreat/compound sort of thing...but he was determined to enjoy this piece of America, so we got out of the car and started walking around.
"There is a sequestered retreat going on here today," said a lady with a tense face who hustled up to us as soon she spotted us. We said okay okay okay and started to leave...and I was getting bitten up by bugs anyway...but my friend had a business call he said he had to make right then and there and he didn't give a shit if they came and hassled us some more so I went and sat in the car. A mosquito got in the car when I got in, and I was trying to quick, open the door and shoo him out, and shut the door before allowing more mosquitoes in, but I was having no success, and the mosquito was the quickest one I've ever encountered, and I could neither swat him nor shoo him out, but I continued my efforts until my friend came and drove us out of there. The only way to get rid of mosquitoes in a situation like that is to start driving and put the windows down and let em get sucked out by the draft.
We made jokes about how the place was most definitely a cult compound as we drove off premises past a sand volleyball court and tennis court. We made about six wrong turns or missed turns on the way to and from the place because I was the one navigating.
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Today I texted a bit with a very stressed out person, an oncology nurse who I've been texting with lately. She was about to go into work another hellish night with people who are in the most terrifying part of their lives. She had only gotten four hours sleep between her last shift and this shift she was about to start.
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Today I looked up at an airplane and mumbled to myself, "Look at that airplane celebrating the sky." While I was looking up, I saw the top of this tall pine tree, and the needles were really shining in the sun. I was smoking a cigarette, and I got light headed, so I went and sat down. There were filter tips on the ground from those little cigars they make blunts out of, and my friend said, Yeah, he sits out here and smokes blunts all the time, and various women come and go, visiting him.
Around that time I drove home because I was feeling sick. I started to feel better after a few sips of an energy drink so I stopped and got my head mildly buzzed at Hair Cuttery. I probably left too big of a tip because of the lady who cut my hair and so on, and I felt stupid.
I got home to a lonely cat and a busted dvd player --no TV-- a blackout which I have half-enjoyed for the last week or so. I have an unfinished letter to my sister I must finish and mail...or just mail...because the letters are never finished. I read the ten year old blog archives of a dude who is one of my great great heroes and friends online...from all the way back at the beginning of my blogging days to the present day.
Second: I got a wrong number text. It was a south New Jersey guy, trying to reach some girl. The following is the transcript, starting with his first message. I didn't know if I knew anybody in the 609 area code, like if maybe this was somebody I knew, but forgot I knew...but it turned out to be somebody I didn't know:
HIM: Morning Sexy!
ME: Good morning! Right number? Who you trying to reach? Thanks for calling me sexy though...
HIM: Lol. Its my pleasure.. Im Derek, is this Dana?
ME: Nah, ha, sorry
HIM: Oh my apologies.. My mistake! Whats ur name?
HIM AGAIN: Hey everything happens for a reason..Are u a female?
ME: I'm a dude, dude. So tell me about this Dana. Ha. Just kidding. I am a dude though.
This is what you see from my balcony. I checked before I shot this, because it would be creepy to look over and see me with my cam pointed at you...I feel a little weird posting this anyway ...even though I made sure nobody was there at first. This shoot had to be done in order to illustrate the points I intend to make in my blog post. I don't know what those points will be, but I'm overcome lately with the impulse to write blog post after blog post and show up on stranger's blogs and comment there too.
No, I think the point I started with was going to be something about my neighbors and my community. Looking at this video, I realize our balconies could remind a person of cell blocks in a prison...like if you'd ever been in prison - or seen one on TV (I fall into the latter category, I promise).
I heard the property manager showing the unit on the first floor to interested renters. This place has quite a turnover.
I've only made neighborly introductions via the the space between balconies on two occasions: One guy, George, was an EMT. He was a divorced dad who ended up renting here after the divorce went down. He apologized in advance for the noise his kids would be making on the balcony, when he had his custody on weekends. I assured him it would be fine, and I told him I was glad to meet him.
The other guy seemed a little weirded out by me saying hello to him from my balcony as he stood on his balcony. I was sitting on my balcony with my other neighbor. It was really late, and she was being goofy and loud. I'm sure the guy across could hear us and see us. She burst out laughing at some point, I don't remember why...So I said hi to the guy across the way...hoping that he wouldn't think we were over here laughing at him for some reason... I don't know why I cared or thought he would think this ...or why I thought my saying hi would alleviate the imagined situation. He just said...um...hi...or whatever.
Why am I writing all this? I don't know. But I do know that the current tenant of the third floor unit sends her dog out to the balcony to pee and sometimes poop! It is horrifying. The pee runs off the balcony and drops three floors and hits the ground there. Sometimes I hear it when it happens...like if I'm sitting inside with the door open...the sound of some kind of liquid running off and hitting the ground below... I try not to even look over there ever. Today, when I glanced over there, though, I noticed that her balcony was really clear of dog poop. It was nice. I wonder if she's moving or something...cleaning up the unit so she can get her deposit back. I'll conclude this blog post here. There is a lot more I could say though.
I beeped at somebody just now at a stoplight. The light was green, and the person was just sitting there in front of me. "Get off the road, clown," I muttered. Then it occurred to me: This might be an actual clown. She just needed a few extra seconds to adjust her big red nose. And I'm back here beeping at her all harsh.
This is my pattern. I don't know if I want to break this pattern though. I mean: I should probably break the pattern. But, I don't want to be cynical. I mean: I love being cynical. But, I love my own brand of cynical.
I'm clunkin around between spiritual crap and pure heart (as stupid as that sounds and I don't care)...clunkin like a dryer full of auto parts. That sting is real. It's crazy and stupid and I wish I could include my usual thought component: I don't care. I have liquor. I have youtubes fulla videos about presence and awareness and all that shit. I have a tender loving cat. I have a phone full of confusing text messages from various. I got projects going into production and a big happy hour coming. I have nature trails and race tracks.
As a smartness test, I am keeping my mouse right next to the laptop on my desk. The mouse is not hooked to the laptop. I am going to see how many times I try to use the mouse, forgetting that it is not connected to the laptop.
A really super smart guy I know took some time to talk with me. I usually feel intimidated when I talk to him...even though he is one of the nicest people I have ever met (niceness, another facet in this multifaceted dude...whenever he gets to talking about some experience of his, he seems more and more like ...damnnear perfect).
Anyway, we were talking, and I don't know how much dumber than him I am...or if I am that much dumber...or if I'm dumb, but improving or ....what...but it seemed like he had to struggle to respond to the things I was saying...like he had to bring himself down quite a few notches to be able to have talkies with me.
How many conversations are like that? I don't just mean ones where there are varying degrees of smarts. I mean conversations where the people are talking, each person is saying stuff, but where the speakers are saying really incompatible things, but they're just sharing a space of interaction because ...just because they want to. Why do they want to? What are their motives? Does it really matter that their conversation is not building neatly, empirically towards a greater subject? Or is the thing that matters this: that they want to want to talk to each other . . . What good will their conversation do anyway, will they solve some major problem? Or are they talking just to be talking, just to give time to each other. Even if you are not making the same points as the other or you're not making points toward the same premise or theory or hypothesis or whatever...even if the things you say don't exactly hit on the point that the other is making, they are hearing what you are saying, and taking it in, and you are hearing what they are saying and taking it in...like out of respect or caring or because they feel for each other enough respect or something just to let em have their turn to talk so you can listen. Maybe if you're not speaking precisely to each other's points, but each speaker is going further out from the point the other is making - maybe you cover a broader area! Maybe the looser the talk, the more ground you cover, the longer strides you make.
the DOCTOR Thursday. (routine stuff, though, really)