Is there an easier way to respond to someone's comments? If so, I'm in the dark...Anywho, Paul, Bob is actually doing pretty well. Not like he's all cleaned up andmade a bunch of progress, but he's out of the phase of destroying things with a sledgehammer (that was scary for a while, I assure you!). Also, he spent about $17,000 getting his teeth fixed, so he's got a brand-new grill and feeling pretty good about that.Ladycroft, no I didn't donate it. I think I might have if I had cut it, say, to my shoulders. But no, I kept it. Also, sorry for keeping you up at Paul's party in August!

Theecarey, speaking of painful hair situations, I used to live right across from, oh gosh, I guess Das Boot isn't there anymore, but a few doors down from Pano's (1097 or 1079 Elmwood). It was a very loooong apartment with a long hallway down the side, and rooms all off to the left of that. Anyway, I used to get going a full run down that hallway, and all of the sudden my hair would catch on a nail (of which, for some reason, there were countless many of in the doorways and walls) and literally throw me to the ground. Actually, that happened a lot. I was ususally not very sober, so found it terribly humorous (I still do!). Also, sometimes I would be dreaming of drowning in seaweed, and wake to find my hair wrapped insanely around my arms at the pits - it would take me awhile to figure my out of it!

For those of you who don't know me, you're all big deal , you cut your hair. For those of you that do know me, you're probably wondering if I've finally smoked all my brains away.....

No, it was just time to do it. I haven't cut it in about 3 years, and it was the longest it had ever been, way down past my butt. If you look real close at my user pic, you can see that it actually extends past my elbow, you can see it a little on the step by my right hand. (to the point that, at work, I'd have to be careful coming out of the bathroom to make sure I didn't have a foot of hair stuck in my pants!) My friend Jill cut it (bob's daughter, tracy's sister), and she did a pretty good job. I told her I wanted half between a Farrah Fawcett and a shag - a little bit nuts, I know. Also, I colored it red, because when I was a youngin prancing around buffalo, every autumn my hair turned red all on it's own (well, reddish). Paul I'm sure will remember this. She cut about a foot and a half off, and although it still runs half-way down my back, I kind of consider myself a short-hair now.

The weird thing is (and I know this is going to sound totally stupid - because it did to me when I thought it out in words) that I'm still the same person. It's weird when you put emotional attachments into things. I've never been one to do this with materialistic things like my car and my stuff (who cares, really?) (well, although my passport is my prized possession - which expires in less than a year -AHHH!), but to me my hair was seriously part of who I am. I really thought I would feel and think differently without the same hair - to my surprise the only difference is my conditioner bill and combing-time (yes, I actually can comb it now!).

It's a little bit nuts. If I had a digital camera, I would show you before's and after's. Bob took some pictures. Maybe I'll post them later.

I don't even have any memory of Pre-K at Roosevelt. [inlink]paul,3906[/inlink] It's crazy too to see all the names of others on the list - like Suzanne Bognar - remember her? and Adam Turri, and Stacy Balestreri - people I haven't thought about in years. Although I did see Adam at some corny Kenmore bar about gosh prolly 4 years ago (he looked a lot different). oh, and Heather Killian is written in at the bottom. And is that Tiffani Ferrara too? Oh my gosh it's too much to handle! AAAGGGGHHHH!!!!! Oh, mi paulo....

That's totally the house I'm talking about. We used to sit on the Bird Ave. side porch all the time. I could never figure out if anyone lived there or not, or if whoever owned it just tried to make it look that way so no one would fuck with it. This was like 96-98, does anyone know anything about it? The Darwin Martin house gets so much press, I don't even know what this one's called....

Okay, so after a tip from dcoffee (thanks, I just read it today) I will attempt to download a pic. Also, attempt to change my user pic. Okay, take two:

okay, i'll figure out the picture thing later....

Well it's been an interesting week:

Friday night I went out with some friends to a drag queen show (hysterical) for a co-workers birthday. That was fun. Went home wasted (always a sure sign of a fine evening)...

Woke up the next morning to my neighbor ringing my doorbell.... apparently someone had hit & run my car as it was innocently parked in front of my house - motherfuckers...

I totally CSI'd the whole scene - I know exactly how it went down... so needless to say, I now have red tape where my taillight used to be, and a shitload body damage surrounding... lovely, as if it wasn't a total ghetto-mobile before.

So then I get over being pissed about that, and Tuesday go to leave work, walk up to the upper back parking lot only to find my passenger side window smashed in - nothing taken except my favorite sweater (I even only have the freaking hyundai factory tape deck in there, for god's sake)....

so now I'm totally pissed off....

alas, enter the restored faith, please....

my friend Corie (behind my back, because she knows I'm way too proud) sent out an email asking people to contribute to the cost of a new window. Within 20 minutes she had $150 - 20 minutes!!! (Roger, my boss, handed her a fresh crisp $100). Now it's almost the end of the day, and I bet I've got close to $300! -

Sometimes people are just awesome - I'll definately remember this the next time I start to bitch about the people I work with.....

also, here's an obligatory picture of Elijah....

with far too much patience.
Ajay, I
clicked your link, and apparently you weren't the only who noticed the difference. Apparently, they've had enough complaints about the looting/finding language that they took one of the pictures off - any guess as to which one? Well let's just say we still get to see black people looting....
Seriously, this whole New Orleans thing is sickening.... a time bomb releasing steam very slowly - it's only a matter of time before the whole thing goes up... it's so sad to see...
After this last election, I felt very un-American. Then with the Tsunami, that at least gave us (as the world popultion) something to feel and do together, you know? like be in shock, and mourn, and try to help. Made me feel a little bit proud when our country (public, private, corporate, you name it) poured out millions of dollars and sent people over to help and all that - gives one a bit of the old warm and fuzzies...
And now this whole situation in our own country - it's just awful: here 's a link ((I hope - I don't actually know how to link)



On a better note, happy birthdays to Terry and Mike - hope you partied enough for me too! Love you guys, by-bye!

Oh my gosh, I just read your food poisoning story. I'm literally here right now in the office rolling at my desk. The picture in my head of you just stopping your car and falling out of your car which just rolls away (in my head, anyway) and collapsing into Burger King. Aw, you crack me up!

Love and miss Paul, Terry and Matt. Had a great time in Bflo and the party. Great to meet new people and friends! Later!

Hola y'all.
I remember discovering that, what seems like a really long time ago, when I walked the streets of buffalo and it was my home. What's the street called, right by McKinley high school - I think it's Fordam - if you go down that about half-way you'll be at the spot McKinley was shot. It was at a building called the Temple of Music, and that, and many other of Delaware Parks more esteemed looking buildings, were built for I think the Pan American Exposition in 1901 (wow, I just looked it up to be sure, and I was right - that's a surprise - good to know some of my brain cells still work). Interesting that you would bring that up!
As always, I miss my three boys...

Okay, so I started to put this in the profile section under "about you" and rambled enough for it to turn into something completely different....

First of all, I think you should be able to type in more letters in the boxes. People can't tell you who are from these things, but they would've found out a lot by reading my mental side-comments or jokes about some of the questions, which I tried to type in but was limited in characters..... sounds like censorship to me Paul - it's like, we'll let you answer, but not explain. Ha ha.
That doesn't really tell you about mw, but neither do the questions, hmm?
Buffalo by growth, san diego by, I guess, fate? My actual birth age is 27, but really sometimes I am stubborn like a 16 year old, but most of the time, I feel like I'm more 35 or forty. Sometimes I look at dumb-ass 40 and 50 year-olds, and I feel rather like a 100-year old sage on the hill.... such is the balance. I have a 5-year old son, who is awesome.
I miss new york, and buffalo, in ways I never thought I would. That just goes to show that no matter what, there's no place like home, and there's no one in the world that can know you like family.... like, let's say I knew this guy for 25 years, now. The first time I met him I was four. He was a catholic republican italian boy, my first memory of him was having my skirt looked up while at a birthday party. In wholesome years, we watched, and sang along with, Mary Tyler Moore. The next thing I knew, ten, well, maybe twelve years later, he comes to my house in faux-fur bellbottoms the size of, I don't know, hakama pants, with an 8-sizes to small bright yellow t-shirt, and a 3-foot long plastic wallet chain, on his way to a rave (one of the changes I still don't get - such is life!). I thought to myself, where did my little brother go, with the plaid shirts and ties, and the little elephant pin? He taught me how to go out and do things, even if you didn't' know what to do, or you didn't know how, or even if people said that idea was crazy. Now, he's gay, atheist, technologically enslaved to a point that it worries me for his soul (gosh you're almost a hermit, if you count time at the computer-master, even if you are out of the house), even 3000 miles away, and will do any drug you put in front of him. Unless he's around a cat, such that no physical attibutes work well enough...with no nose, you can't snort, with no lungs, you can't smoke, with a brain primed for hypochondria, you live in paranoia. I tell you, it started with the "brain tumor" in 10th grade. Before that, the hypochondria was limited only to allergies, I can tell you accurately. Oh, he's also now pretty close to being a left-ist anarchist than a republican for sure - definately one of the changes I would agree with! Through all these fundamental things, attributes, which we like to think make us the person we are: faith, political views, sexual orientation, whether you'd rather hike or type, these are the things that I think we like to feel pride in, when it comes to thinking and feeling about who we are and what we do (although you certainly can never categorize people fully or accurately, whether it's your own self, or some one you don't know - perspective, it's a mind fuck, no?) My point is, in my best friend, my little (but older) brother, smarter than me (but less wise in the way of like, people and life), all these things have done an absolute 180 in that same profile from 24 years ago for my best friend, mi mejor amigo. There are few people I know in the world that are truly always the same. Some argue that who you are is who you are, and that's it, and although periferal things may change (where you live, who you hang with, etc) you're always the same. But I think in this way, we can categorize it in to two groups, those who are conscience of themselves, and other peoples's opinion of them, and those who don't. I definately belong to the first category and probably in an extreme (no coincidence, this type of personality "trait", is what leads me to being a "changling", a phrase I relate with, and feel that I am. I think I was 23 or 24 years old before I actually realized that it didn't matter a fucking damn what any one else thought of you, it only really matters what you think of you. I've always known that's how you should feel, and think, but I never really got it. Well, I could write a whole novel about my "issues". My point is to illustrate the contrast, in the person who is my best friend. I know a few people like this, and I am at times a little envious, particularly when I was younger and more insecure; these are those who no matter what, stay completely naive, and in fact, self-sheltered and totally unbeknownst, to the world around them. And I think because of this, they don't really ever change. Except for whatever the few things are that they are focused on. And in the few people I know like this, their focus on these things that make up their world, they are absolutely focussed, genius, understading and interactive with. Anything else, it might as well not even exist, for all they can see. Might as well not even exist, think about that. My best friend is this way, so is my son. These are the people that truly are always the same, regardless of when or what situation. When my parents, or Elijah's dad, or other friends, ask about the welfare and goings on of my best friend, I always feel the same response. Well, you know ________, he's always the same. I envy them, although I do see a lot of things a lot differently through different situations and experiences, than they do. I see a lot of things that these people missed. And I'm sure, if this person was into cars, (which he's not, but it's an easy example) and we walked around town, he would come away having remembered probably 100 different models, maybe the years, would've noticed any that had body work, the ones that are classic, etc. Like walking around a construction site with a carpenter, I would just see a bunch of framing. Much more intracate than that, in reality. Ah, the balance of life. But the observations that I might come away with would be totally different. I might notice language of the signs about town, or seeing couples can see which ones are happy or unhappy, and why. People, reactions, etc. That's what I see.
But regardless of these very fundamental differences between my best friend and I, he truly is my best friend. I read his journal, and to be entirely honest, I understand about 3% of it. It's like reading something in a different language, because I don't understand computers. All these people he mentions, are in a context related to something computer.... now, I'm not saying that these interactions and relationships or any less valid than having something "in person", as it were. But to me it is, and to him it's probably more real, because of the language he speaks. Such differences. He is the one person, seriously, in my whole life, even besides my parents, and I'm one of those that have a very honest and communicative relationship with my parents, my best friend is the one and only who always understands me automatically without my needing to explain a word, who's never judged me regardless of the dumb-ass things that I do, and the vibe between us is always the same: acceptance and love.
Many of you, if you've read this, know who I am talking about. And I think you would agree. I do worry, though, Paul, that you will be in another 20 years, someone whose only friends are robots that you've created, the only contact you have with the outside world (outside your head, I mean) is through your computer. I just love you.
My ode to you.