sometimes i just stay up late

Maybe, it's still a part of me that wants to hold on to being able to stay up as late as I can. Maybe I really do like falling a sleep on the couch after years of dosing off on the couch throughout college and high school. I could maybe list a hundred more reasons, but whatever path I would chose to navigate to help paint the metaphor for you, they would all lead to this, right here, and this, is me up at 12:41 writing to you, while you're bored at work.

The Lady works for a hospital (NOT A NURSE) she would be proud that I made that known. In layman's terms here is what she does. Flies around on a little baby helicopter and comes up with new possible state capitals for Michigan, Illinois, and Idaho. Actually, she does nothing of the sort, but that makes more sense than if I tried to explain what she does, so just know at the end of the day, more people are alive because of what she does.... and Boise had better watch out (its a really good joke, scroll back to the state capital reference, check out the Idaho, then respect the Boise-ahh nevermind, it was funny to me). 

In any event The Lady went to bed a few hours ago, which is fine, she works ten hour shifts. For whatever reason, I really love the quiet time I get in the evenings. Not in a "I love that she's not around" as much as it is a quaint time to just run with my random thoughts of the day. At a different time, I would spend this time rolling up some weed and playing Madden. Followed by passing out and laughing. However the baton has been passed to reading books and fantasy football. 

Speaking of which, has there ever been a more nerdy thing for you to try and explain to your girl as fantasy football..."No see babe, I have my own pretend team of guys from every team, but so does everyone else, and we take the stats of everyone, then add them as if they were on our own magic, all inclusive team etc etc yadda it's really cool!" Fellas, your best bet is to breathe it out suck it up, embrace the nerdatiy of it and just ask her to hold on for a few months.

I've started to notice the shuffle of cards that is combined living. Having always lived with roomates, all of whom, with one exception were male. Decorating, and all in all "caring about your place" meant nothing to me. However now that I'm here now and have a pretty decent spot, furniture, and shop for food, I have a whole new sense of "can you put a coaster down". The cards start to mix, most noticeably when we go shopping for food. As all the name brands, and flavored meals of my youth become the first thing my subconscious reaches for instinctively. And when she looks at me like "what is that" my first thought is...what is this? what is this? this is good eats right here woman, this here is what got me to be the man I am today, that happens to have eaten this his whole life, helped to get me to where I am to where I am!, which for the record is still aisle 9 on a mad man rant. Practically at this point I'm fighting  back tears just cause the woman has never heard of JIFFY cornbread. When two aisles later she makes some demand about an instant mashed potato I don't know anything about, first thing I say to her is "what is that?". Graciously, ever the lady, she responds, "its good babe". And amazingly thats all the convincing I need. 

So now it's 1 am and my apartment complex is set up as two 26 story high rise styles that face one another. For whatever reason, the later into the night it gets, I find a silent joy in opening the curtains, or going on the balcony, and seeing less lights on in the other building from my previous check. As if now, even at 26 I'm still playing the I stayed up later than you game. Sometimes if it gets too late I'll rationalize that not all the lights are people still up, some have dozed off on the couch with the light on, and others just leave it on for comfort, so obviously I have outlasted even more mere "sleep needers" suckers.

Alright I could keep going, at this point, but I'm sure you've got an email to send, or a client to update, or some sort of something you had no idea you would be doing 5 years ago, and if you don't make something up. How dare you try to steal my over dramatic witty attempt at a clever closing. 

You get back to that file, as I watch some "sleepy head" on the 16th floor turn out the lights... victory. Another one bites the dust.

In Actuality

Having moved to a larger area it seems to me that lately a new wave of compassion has been slowly taking over me. A wave of thought that perhaps had previously escaped me, or to better phrase it, a wave of thought that was foreign to me. Nonetheless it is upon me now, and to be honest, it is upon me heavily.

In interacting with so many people day to day, walking around my apartment complex, riding the bus, walking the streets etc. I see a lot of the same something in people's faces, better yet, I see the same lack of something. It is the look of lower middle to middle America meandering along through their days. It is the look of "today is the most important day, and as long as I can get through it I will be ok". I see it on the face of the Hispanic man on the bus in the morning with a homemade cast, held together with a bandana and a shoestring. I see it on the face of the bus driver who two weeks ago gave me the scowl of a lifetime when boarding the bus, but now is glad to talk to me about her search for a new home for her and her two kids. I see it on the face of the mother walking the streets with one kid in a stroller and another holding her hand, the same hand that lacks a wedding ring.  I get on the bus, in the morning, and I don't see neckties and white collars, but more paint splattered jeans, and people leaving job A, heading to job B. 

They train you early that its black, and its white. As a black person, we especially train ourselves to think that it is us, and it is them, but here, everyday I have come to realize more and more that its quite a bit larger than that. I've got a bunch of rich friends, well dressed, well spoken, college educated, savy, up on politics, sports and all the latest trends. I also am the son of a father who currently at 48 has had two strokes, is an alcoholic, marijuana fiend, who lives sternly from check to check, often times coming very short. So please believe, I understand. For years I thought that perhaps Dread  (what I call my father, as he has long flowing dreadlocks) was a rare instance , him and his friends, an outlier on the bell curve of society. Him and his rag tag set of friends, quick to blaze up, even quicker to drink up, and quickest to the strip club with a story about last night that would leave you laughing, and slightly shy to listen. I used to think that perhaps, by and large most folks lived like my other friends, like the ones I was accustomed to in the safe and soundness of middle to upper middle America. Or perhaps I knew all along that this was the life of many, but just was hoping for otherwise.

Truth is, people are struggling. Truth is, people have been struggling, and truth is people will stay struggling. I get off the bus, leaving behind those looking forward to a cash advance, or a money order to pay their bills cause they don't have bank accounts and nothing works better than cash in hand. I get off the bus, take a few steps, and like magic, I'm closer to my office and surrounded by the bluetooth's and the Banana Republic sale bags, Ipod's and hipster lingo. I get off the bus, and I feel at home, safe again. Safe to talk about last nights game or gripe about some random hassle that I have been assigned at work. I get off the bus, but I still feel the people sitting in the back. I still see the kids waiting for the community college stop, and the moms with no dads, the first generations just mastering English. I get off the bus, and leave the sea of sadness, feeling guilty, and at the same time I wish I could stay longer. If only to hear each and every persons story, to understand what they are going through,  and what they wish they could be.

Call it sugary I really could care less. I just wanted to put it out there that the world is big, and people are struggling. Struggling to pay rent, and fill up gas tanks, to eat food, and they aren't the first, and they won't be the last. Big cities gobble up dreams left and right, see I used to hope that maybe only Dread and his buddies had lost their dreams. Maybe I could have dealt with that, I could have faced it cause I knew that at least I made them happy, by telling them about college, and school and the things they wanted to do. I could have dealt with a few folks not getting out of life what they bargained for, long as I could help out. Sadly I was wrong, cause they aren't the only ones. 

It's a dog eat dog world out there.

"...Im just robbin to eat/

and there's at least a 1000 other like me mobbin the street/

when we starvin we eat/

whatevers there/

come on you know the code in the street/

whatever's fair..."

"Get at Me Dog" DMX

dirty thoughts

it has come to my notice lately just how sexually charged our culture is by and large. on the surface it would surprise (i wont be using capital letters for this point by the way, no real reason just don't like reaching my pinky all the way over there for shift).

me and the lady were on our way back home from something or other and noticed an adult video store. its a few blocks from our apartment and i have never given much thought to it, however she pointed out, rather surprised, at how large the store was. i had never given any thought to how large the store was till she said that. granted the place is two stores, and roughly the size of a kids r us (not a toy r us, those things are huge) anyhow it got me to thinking, thinking quite a bit for that matter. i pointed out to her that this is not something out of the norm in a large city, or in america for that matter. i quickly pointed out to her that i used to work in a movie rental store and our most rented movies were the porno's. by far.

i remembered back to being 19 and working at the store, and having the same initial shock as the lady had the other night. i remember middle class mothers dropping off the XXX rated films in the drop box, and the college guys roaming around the back porn room with open eyes. i remember the new to america immigrants shuffling in the store and darting straight to the back, amazed with the blonde bombshell american beauties who would go to any lengths to satisfy their well endowed "all american" male, and sometimes, female counterparts. i remember how one thing remained true over and over, whether young or old, black, white, hispanic, greek, russian or what have you, while the new releases and the 5.99 bin appealed to folks of varied interest, the porn room, in the back appealed to pretty much everyone.

that back room had a camera installed so that we could keep an eye on the people in there while they made their selections. even as i write this i can remember vividly watching people spend up to 45 minutes in there just spellbound by the covers of the films alone. what surprised me most then, was not the fact that so many people were drawn to the back room, but the ease at which so many unsuspecting people could pick out a film and bring it to me, a total stranger and be about their business. yes, i could go on at this point about the number of foolish porn titles and various weird tastes of my common man but i'll save that for a conversation over drinks, that within itself is a story best told face to face rather than online. i would sit and watch these people and wonder, wow, is it that serious? apparently it was, and apparently it still is.

i can say with all honesty that i have never been into porn, not necessarily from a moral high ground, but just out of personal interest. to me, if you were starving and had not eaten, or were just hungry for that matter, what sense would it make to watch other people eat, when you could just go get something to eat for yourself? although i am not the porn aficionado myself, i do understand the draw of it all. nudity, even at its most base level has a certain draw and taboo to it, even adam hid in the garden from God upon his discovery of being naked. 

nonetheless, it just lead me to think so much about how much and important sex is in 2008. my generation perhaps more so than any other before us has grown up in such a sexualized culture, some of it perverse and some of it traditional. think about the fact that so many "celebrities" all have sex tapes that get "leaked" often times these leaks are to boost their popularity and get their name turning up in search engines. read: paris hilton, an already established multi millionaire heiress in waiting who had a full fledged romp leak on the internet only to parlay that moment of false em bare ass ment (pretty witty) into an even higher level of stardom, tv shows, albums, movies even references from presidential candidate's. it subtly teaches the praise of sex and what it can get you, and where it can lead. remember the thong song, hell, i'll even admit that before that song came out i had no idea as to what a thong was, now, i would consider myself not only a fan, but a full fledged supporter. 

we once did not allow kissing on screen in movies, when just as recently as sunday me and the lady watched the new hbo series "true blood" and there were graphic scenes of vampires having sex with humans, and this was on tv before 11pm. 

i am not the moral right, nor am i here to lambaste or challenge those with their fetishes, i could go on and on, and i think i might actually post a few more in regards to this, but please give me some comments or feedback, i'll further answer questions or do any research asked upon, i just want to hear your thoughts on some of the following...

what are your thoughts on sex in america? sex in the workplace? sex parties? swinging? gay/lesbianism? threesomes? masturbating? online dating/sex? cyber sex? fisting? porn?sex on screen, and in music? premarital sex?  positions etc, hit me up let me know, and ill address, not as a creep, but in an attempt to learn.

Ten Hut!

I remember being younger and my mother, aunts, grandmothers, and every other adult for that matter having a set of "shows" that they watched. Dramas, comedies, soaps, miniseries, musicals, anything you can name, they had it. Knew the characters, knew the story lines, knew the infinite minute details (thats my newt, not the time interval min nut)

I remember thinking how amazing it was that they could have a show to watch EVERY night of the week. Oh I would be mad, salty, grumped up, mostly for the sake of being grumped up come to think of it, yes I would get salty at these shows for no real reason. If only I knew then what I know now.

Ever since joining "big people world" I have started to come to enjoy my nightly retreat to my couch and DVR. Side note big people world means getting off work at 5 daily. By daily I mean every day until they tell you that you have to work last Saturday for 3 hours thus meaning you get off at 3, which at first sounds good because its a short day, then you remember that it's a Saturday, so the fact within itself that there is a "day" to be had means you are salty. However when asked, you dutifully reply "oh it's no big deal" because you are still the new guy and don't want to ruffle TOO MANY feathers, oh but would you look at that, a tangent has arisen.

Again, having scrolled up I see what I was talking about. Some sort of babble about watching TV. I have reached a point where 9pm might as well be considered my landing pad in my living room. Monday through Friday I have at least one show to watch, most times two. I have to fill in The Lady on what she missed on her trip the bathroom, or her to do the same with me. However I will note that she has the remarkable ability to find a way to either text, call, or use the bathroom at the best point of the whole show. Just last night we are watching a movie, and right at the climax point of the whole film, she decides to get up and finish dinner. RIGHT THEN? Babe there are 3 minutes left and you want to make gravy? Well seeing as that I'm not going to be doing it suit yourself (but this is the good part!!)

I guess my new found love for the 9pm courtroom/doctor/police/silly family/wild zany set of friends/ hour long drama/hijinks and hilarity. Has a lot to do with my  understanding, and slow acceptance of the fact that I am now marching to the tune of a different drum. And that drum my friends is adulthood.

 It means I get up at the same time, and do essentially the same thing every day. Evaporating are the days/years I spent getting high, and staying drunk unsure of the adventure to come to me from day to day. Gone is the skirt chasing and questions about what I'm trying to do with life and all the things I could go on to list here but frankly I've got work to get back to so just substitute some long personal story, so just sub in your own story here of stuff you used to do, and pretend you are reading it here............

Let me tell you what I do actually do now. I have all new conversations. All. New. Conversations. I talk about work now, and benefits, and how I'm not getting enough of them, I compare benefits to my friends and family to their delight or dismay, all depending on what their job is so kind to give them dictates their response. I talk about the gym, everyone around me talks about the gym. We talk about losing weight, we talk about gaining weight, muscle mass, quads, lats, cardio. We talk about the newest diet, the newest method, the oldest methods, the all bread plan, the all macaroni plan, we talk and we talk, and we talk about that gym. How we don't go enough, how we need to go more, how we just don't like it, and should we just let our membership lapse. Believe you me. I talk about the gym.  I talk about equity, and owning a home, raises, making partner, getting laid off, going to grad school. I guess that the first 20 or so years of your life you talk a lot about dicking around and take joy in getting older, now I see we talk about starting the process. The process of being adult. From time to time I talk about marriage, and I talk about kids, most often not cause a lot of my boys still talk bout getting girls. I talk about the conference call at noon, then talk about who understood the new project, then I talk about doing work. I TALK a lot about doing work, as I have realized doing work is practically forbidden in the work place. So we talk about it. I talk about what's for dinner and low sodium meals, and cleaning the apartment on the weekend, and did I pay the cable bill yet?. I talk about "don't worry about it babe, those ladies in the office are just crazy."

And somewhere in between, when I'm not talking about that, when not following the script and filling in the blanks. I talk about "did you see that last night?" Because we march the beat, and I don't want to get out of step. So I watch the shows, and I talk about that.

Hangover 101

Sorry it's been a few days for my last post but I've been busy basking in the glow of being 26. Which might I add has lead t more people than average telling me how old I will be in 4 years... yes 30. Its almost to the point where every person I speak with is quick to point that out, which is odd because no one points out at 16 you are 4 years from 20, or that at 7 you are 4 years from 11. Yes I am aware of such, but thats a whole Olympics away from now so lets just relax, Michael Phelps isn't about to hit the pool again and I'm not about to turn 30...not just yet. With that being said lets get down to some work occupying bloggage.

Okay so bloggage is a stupid word now that I read it again.

This weekend I went out with some friends, and The Lady mind you. I caught up with an old buddy from college who I haven't seen since so needless to say we did what all guys older than 22 would do... drink heavy and tell stories of our historic pasts. I suppose now is a good time to lace this story with a dose of foreshadowing: I have never had a hang over cue dramatic music. No, never. For those that know me, I can drink, not like a horse, cause well, I use cups and napkins, horses just use lips and look stupid. But if a horse did use a cup or a napkin, then I suppose I would drink like said horse, but for all intents and purposes, I can handle my booze (no I didn't say I have never gotten sick off drinking, just never a hang over). 

Anyway, we leave bar number one, where it should be noted that The Lady casually accused me of not listening to her tell me something cause I was "too busy gawking" too which I SWIFTLY replied "what at some pot bellied ho's?!?!?!". Needless to say, I don't think I have ever used that phrase in my life but the fact that I said it so quickly and alarmingly is still funny to me as I type, and she let me off the hook. Mostly because I wasn't gawking, duh. Fellas, feel free to use that one if you like, but you've got to be sure there are a decent amount of pot bellage in the area. Damn, I thought I could sell the bellage after that bloggage attempt went over so poorly, 0 for 2 on witty -age endings. Oh wellage.

Bar one, done, and heading to bar two, I'll keep it short in saying this is how it went. We got there, we drank, we laughed my friends sweated like hogs, I laughed, we drank. Then I woke up.

Apparently however between that last period after we drank and then I woke up this happened. I threw up out of my buddies still moving car while driving through D.C I undressed myself rather wildly and incoherently in my living room, got sick some more, walked into a wall, stabbed a bellhop (not really). And woke up with with the most intense pain in my skull known to man. Goodness gracious, my friends even used to hate hard for me never having a hang over. I'll even be honest to point out The Lady has admitted to being happy to watch me in pain that day as she giggled "finally finally finally" to herself, imagine Rumplestiltskin doing his dance in the woods, and thats how she looked in excitement as I was doubled over in pain. (she did also nurture me while I took some Ibuprofen, gave me water while I got sick again the next day, provide me with a pillow, rub my back, get me food, and let me be a complete nothing for the day) So I assume the dance and giggling can be somewhat forgiven :) and yes she is right next to me reading as I type oh I love you so much babe so so much.

Needless to say when I finally woke up from my second or third coma all I could think to myself was "damnit, this is what it means to be 4 years from 30".

Well would you look at that.

Let's just jump right into the meat of today. Today, is my birthday. For the record I am now 26, and that actually stirs up a lot of thoughts for me, and would you look at that, you're bored at work so pull up a seat.

First thing, 26 is officially a grown up age. My favorite age so far has been 24, not cause it was an epic year, but because for a whole year I could refer to myself as Jack Bauer. (upon proofreading, that was a pretty lame joke, but mind you, I was a young lad back then). Also there seems to be this widespread panic about getting older here in America especially among people in my age range. Let me be the first to say, I LOVE GETTING OLDER. What's not to love? As much as people publicly wish they could be young again, do you really want to go back to that? Yeah sure you could seemingly do whatever you wanted. In actuality being a kid is like being an animal in a zoo. Wake up when woken, go to bed when told, eat what fed, play when allowed, all your life depends upon the mood of your parents. Fast forward a few years to your mid twenties...well well well what have we here. 

I wake up when I want(after the "death bell" better known as an alarm clock goes off") , I stay up however late I want, I eat anything I want(as long as The Lady says its okay). I can drink beer, I can say bad words, I can draw pictures of breasts if I want, I can type the word breasts if I want. I can stand up in the bathtub, jump on my bed, wear no underwear, kiss girls, cross the street without holding hands, have money (to give away to William, my adult name for bills). I can kill my ex-wife and her friend in a brutal stabbing incident, go home fill my house with blood stains, and stomp my footprints all through the blood (okay well apparently I can't but you see what I'm saying). I can stay out past the street lights coming on, heck, thats when half the fun of being an adult kicks in. Remember when alcohol tasted bad, and you thought, "how does anyone drink this mess" yeah you would...little kid. I can make up answers that I don't know to tell to kids "yes the sky is blue, only to you little Johnny, its actually magenta to the rest of us, but don't tell anyone you see a blue sky, they will deport you, and deport means fill with cement by the way" and yes I have used that one before. Im old enough to not worry about online predators. I can do anything, take a look its in a book! Rea--wait, where am I? Why would I want to be a kid again? For some mac and cheese and some fish sticks? Yeah right. 

Speaking of Reading Rainbow, remember when you were a kid right, and adults officially knew the answer to everything, yes everything. So when Levar Burton was on there telling you a book was good, why then did he always have to peddle some kids on us with his "don't take my word for it". Levar, you're obviously a respectable adult, and YOU ARE ON TV, we will believe anything you say. Who are these kids, probably nerds if they're reading, hmph, now I don't want to read the book if these lames are reading it. Okay, now I really have no idea what I was talking about. hold on let me scroll up.

Right right, my birthday. I love it, not so much the whole happy birthday thing. Yes thats cool and all but see...I can do anything, anytime anyday. So its not like when I was younger and had one day a year devoted to me. I make money, and can get the things I want. Also, as a kid getting a combined 71 dollars from relatives was a kings ransom, but apparently the dollar a year for every year you've lived caps out somewhere between 13-18. Looking back on it, 7 bucks is a lot of money at 7, whereas now 7 bucks is like, really? You cheap bastard. If someone gave me 7 bucks today, I would probably out of habit ask them if I could spend the night at my friends house. Speaking of which, when was the last time you had a sleepover? No fellas, not a one night stand, a genuine sleep over. Staying up late, sleeping bags, all that jazz, yeah, ages ago why? Cause you're an adult damnit that's why. 

Okay well I would love to keep typing, just as Im sure you would love to keep reading, but see, its my birthday, and I've got a whole lot of "anything I want" to get back to. But don't take my word for it.