The Other Side of the Coin.

Having worked the graveyard shift for the better part of an Olympic year, I know a thing or two about the nighttime. As a matter of fact, it's safe to say that I know somethings you don't know.

I know that the park bench where you sit at in the daytime is someone's bed come midnight; That alleyway you cut across is someone's home. The parks themselves become hiding places for those that don't wish their actions being shown in the light of day and conceal even more secrets at night. Playgrounds become bedrooms for young hands and lips longing to explore nubile bodies or are merely the staging area for drinking, drug use and revelry before actual bedrooms are used.

Hills you would think to be deserted as skateboarders slake their thrill issues on most of them under the cover of darkness and backyards and seemingly empty warehouses become impromptu rings or cages for those seeking blood for their respective fight clubs and with muggers, rapists and killers all using the night as their own personal cloak of invisibility, the Angel of Death is seldom too far away.

How the night obscures these things from view. How the night conceals these things from you. Pray you do not stray to far from the light.

The Definition of No.

Perhaps I'm too accommodating to people and don't know it. Maybe I'm too eager to please. That's probably the reason why I don't say the word "No" often enough. While I detest using it, it is a necessary word. I mean, you can't please everyone all of the time. Sometimes, you have to be a little bit selfish; sometimes you have to put yourself first.

I... am SO not there yet! Every time I'm asked to do something, I jump on it like a snot-nosed private that just received orders directly from his commanding officer. Granted, while I don't see anything wrong with that, I do tend to stretch myself beyond my means at times to indulge other people's needs, as it were. Last night, I ended up using my entire hour break from work going to stores open 24 hours to find a big bag of cotton balls for one of my Goddaughter's science projects for school. (OK. I'll go to the ends of the world for anything she needs but still...I did so because my sister, her mother, asked me.) Speaking of my sister, I'd be finishing Chapter 2 of The Believer [BTW, in case you're interested http://nevermoreraven13.xanga.com/ ] and posting it right now had I not left my laptop at home for her to use. Very unselfish of me, I think, but I could've just as easily have said "No. I need it tonight." That would've been the end of it and it would've been the truth. (And before you ask, I know I could've easily copied the story onto my flash drive and taken it to work with me but I don't trust the computers at work, OK?) Yet still, I caved and with a smile on my face.

A couple of days ago, I invited a friend of mine out to breakfast because I know her to be a night owl like myself and I know for a fact that she's always up early and hungry. So, I took her to breakfast and then, since she asked, I chauffeured her around because she needed to make a few stops. Didn't even hesitate to offer myself up or anything.

As for my next two days off, tonight is my night. I pretty much have nothing to do after work except enjoy my day off and, while the same can be said for Wednesday night, I've already told two friends that I'd hang with them. It's no biggie for me, really. When stuff like that happens, I just put everyone in the same room together so I can hang out with all of my friends at once. Still, the point I'm trying to make is that I could've just as easily cancelled on one and hung out with the other. Actually, to be completely honest, Wednesday November 11th is the U.S. Marine Corps' birthday. As a tradition, I usually go out and get shit-faced either alone or with any of my fellow Devil Dogs that I can find. Nevertheless, I put tradition aside so as to convenience others.

I'm not saying it's a burden. It doesn't bother me at all. I love having friends that miss my company. I love having family that depends on me. I love being the Go-To guy! However, looking back on my life, I can't help but realize that while I've been very unselfish, at times, I've hindered my own progress, dreams, goals, etc., and as commendable as that might look to the naked eye, on paper, that's not such a good look at all. I always find that amusing though because, all my life, my religious teachings have always told me to give of myself to the fullest. That has always been confusing because Jesus would give you the shirt off of his back and He's loving and caring but when I do it, I'm stupid! (UGH!)

A long time ago, I was asked by a, um...professional, to describe myself in four words or less. He told me not to think about it but to just say the first words that popped into my head. My reply was simply:

I AM YOUR SERVANT.

I don't know why I said that. Those words just came out and, the really strange thing is, I believed in them. As a matter of fact, I still do. Helping or serving others is the single greatest joy I get out of life. That's why I hate it when people tell me that I have to look out for myself first sometimes. I hate it because, while I know they have a point, it goes against my nature and Lord knows that you can't fight who you truly are. At least not for long.

I don't know if I have it in me to be self-centered and self-indulgent and I don't care to find out. I like the way I am but I do have to figure out how to start accomplishing goals a little better, a little faster and with a lot more frequency. Going to the gym tomorrow (ironically, because someone asked and I didn't say "no") to see if I can get back on that horse. I was doing great until 4 weeks ago and then, well...I guess I said "NO" to myself, didn't I? Perhaps I don't need to look up the definition of "No" like I thought I did. Maybe, I just have to start saying "Yes" more towards the things that I like.

The Things I Keep.

Why do I love the rain so, I wonder? Does that make me weird? Or should I say, does that make me weirder than most weird people? My friends don't seem to think so. Then again, maybe they have simply grown accustomed to my odd behavior. The latter is a definite possibility. As for my newer friends, they don't seem to mind my weirdness either. Personally, I just chalk it up as a character flaw that people seem to find charming and endearing.

I love my friends. I love them so much that I think I'd love them even if I hated them. (I know that might not make sense now but read that again in a minute or two. Trust me. It will.) My latest new friend is Shannon. I swear, there's something about her that reminds me of me. She's a dreamer; has a big heart that shines right through. Cool peoples all around. She in turn is best friends with my Polish brother from another mother, Artie. I met them both at The Wild Rover Pub in Guttenberg. Through whom, you ask? Well, I was introduced by none other than my cousin Aramis (Junior), who's always been the closest I've had to a little brother. I can talk to him about anything and he's always got my back.

Speaking of having my back, I'd be remiss if I didn't mention my big brother Eric. He, who, surprisingly married before me and is expecting his first born next month. He, in turn, is married to BB. One of my most loving and, by far, one of the most generous people I've ever met. She'd buy you a small country if you put it on your Christmas wish list. She also has a great ear so she's always been a great listener. I'm SO glad those two got together.

Oh! And while we're on the subject of great listeners, how could I leave out my favorite beach buddies? Bubbles and Tyger. God! If those two even hear waves crashing on the shore, they take off in a dead run! Seriously! I've actually witnessed that. Incidentally, I didn't see the beach, not even once, this summer because the two of them weren't around. Moreover, I love them both because they constantly remind me not to stray to far away from the light as I am normally inclined to do. It's very difficult to be depressed around those two especially if they're together.

Why am I getting so mushy, you ask? Why so sentimental? Why think on old and new friends? No reason. This isn't a suicide note. (Quite frankly, I don't believe in suicide but even if I did, the goodbye letter would be about 500 pages long.) It's just something I've been thinking about after having a conversation with my cute little blondie, Bubbles. It's something she said when I made it a point that we should hang out more. (I may have made that point whilst being a bit too much attitude.) She quelled my annoyance with the quaint little observation that we never hung out that often in the first place before she got with her man. It was a simple little sentence but it made me think about the rest of my friends.

I rarely see any of them as much as I would've a decade or two ago. I wrote if off as being an adult and being busy and stuff of that nature but the truth is, with my conflicting work schedule and everyone else's responsibilities, it's hard to see them. It's very difficult to hang out. Moreover, we don't all have the same tastes in hang out spots even if we did when we first met. As for my other best friend, she doesn't even live in the great state of New Jersey anymore (miss you, Tyger!) so we only catch up on IM's, text and emails but we can't hang out that way.

Lately, I've been working on my minimalist movement, of sorts. It's something I mentioned in a previous blog about getting rid of things you don't need or don't use. I was thinking about applying that same mentality to my friends list. Not my Facebook list. My actual list of friends. However, that only lasted for a split second. Friends are the one thing in my life that will always remain constant. Furthermore, I rarely ever try to make new friends because I have all that I need with the ones I have now. Nevertheless, I always manage to find a way to make new acquaintances and once that happens, I find it difficult to ever let them go from my heart or memory. In all seriousness, I find it difficult to let go of friends I haven't talked to in awhile or don't keep in contact with. To this day, I wonder how Taz and Lucci are doing. I rarely ever talk to either of them but I worry about my Marine brethren to this day.

No. I can't downsize my actual friend list. Once you're in my thoughts and in my heart and soul, you're there for good; you're there to stay for as long as my heart keeps beating and then some. I keep the friends I make. If for nothing else, I guess it's just another character flaw. Perhaps the people that I meet can sense that about me. Maybe that's why they stay.

Reading this blog again, I've realized that I've left out countless other people. Moreover, them being the friends they are will probably wonder why I left them out of this mentioning of friends on a blog that, odds are, no one ever reads. Some may even make a big deal about it and that's cool. If I make friends that worry about me not mentioning them then I must be doing something right. If nothing else, that lets me know that I have good taste in friends because any friend of mine that is proud to say they know me is worth keeping.

The Veil and The Dream

"Did you know that the veil between this world and the next is the thinniest around this time of year?"

I remember that question being posed to me by one of the kookiest people I had probably ever met (up until that point, anyway). She was a witch (or Wiccan, for you politically correct assholes who have nothing better to do than to correct my politically incorrect ass!) or so she told me. She then corrected herself and said she was merely a nature worshipper but loves seeing people's reactions when she says that she's into witchcraft. Needless to say, she didn't even make me flinch. However, I did think that her initial query to me was a bit strange.


I don't think it so strange a question anymore.


I haven't had anything spiritual happen to me in a long time. I may have felt, what the faithful might call, "God's presence" but I haven't felt the piety I used to feel as a child in quite some time now. Not until tonight, anyway. Tonight, that presence was almost...well, for lack of a better word...SPOOKY!

I woke up from what may very well have been the most vivid dream I've ever had. It involved a friend. One I only knew for a brief amount of time, before the Good Lord saw fit to take her from this world, but a friend nonetheless. And sure enough, there she was, plain as day, giving me advice without saying a word. It was one of those dreams where I knew what was happening without the need for words to be spoken. (By the way, if anyone wants to know the dream, all you have to do is ask. I'd get into it now but it would need it's own blog to be told properly.)

When I awoke to my alarm clock, I jumped out of bed with vigor and energy. I got ready for work and headed out the door confident and alert but I didn't know why. It wasn't until I was driving to work listening to Stairway to Heaven by Led Zeppelin that it all came back and hit me a proverbial ton of bricks. (Zeppelin can do that, you know!) I almost had to pull of the road to compsoe myself. I managed to pull myself together and get to work.

Here I am, still at work; it's hours after the realization of that dream and after telling Tyger about it and I'm still freaked out about it. (Incidentally, she was just as wigged out as I was!)I mean, dreams are one thing but this one was too vivid and had too much of a message to just be a dream. This was more a communication. What if it's true? What if the so called "Veil" is weakest at this time of year? Could that have been a long distance call from "the great beyond" or whatever it's called? I haven't put too much faith in the supernatural in a long time even though I'm superstitious and a big fan of that type of thinking. I don't know why but I haven't really put too much faith in anything lately. I guess that's why the dream occurred yesterday of all days.

Not only was it Halloween, it was the first time in a long time that I went to church; it was the first time that I actually prayed.

I'm not gonna sit here and tell you to "repent your sins" and that "The End is Nigh!" or anything like that. However, I am gonna tell you...there is a power in believing and scary as it is, I'm gonna explore it a little more. As for the dream, I think it was advice. It may very well have been a message. I mean, when you're dreaming you're in a car race and then a friend, who has already "crossed over" and whom you've never, EVER dreamed about after her death, tells you to take a chance and try to beat a train that's coming full steam on the tracks or to make a ramp jump over a cliff in the car ala Dukes of Hazzard, it's gotta mean something! Apparently, I have to start taking bigger chances.

I read you loud and clear, Jesse! Tell Jesus I send my love and don't beat Him too badly in chess. Let Him win a few.

Maximizing My Inner Minimalist

So one of the newest fads, for lack of a better term, is being a minimalist; living with the least amount of things and getting rid of objects that you already own that you don't need. In this day and age of everything costing way too much, that sort of living can probably save the practitioner of that lifestyle a lot of money. Getting rid of things you don't need and not purchasing unnecessary items in the future is a very liberating concept. Imagine being able to walk down the street with money in your pocket and not being tempted to by a new pair of CK jeans or cologne. You already have a good pair of sneakers so you don't need to buy a new pair of kicks with the name of a professional basketball player on it; not needing to get a new iPhone or Droid because the phone you have is all you need. It would be a liberating feeling to know that, by living a minimalist lifestyle, you can discover a lot about yourself because you can actually see that you need very little to survive. Furthermore, there's also a philosophical aspect to consider. When it comes to emotional baggage, one could do well by being a minimalist in that area of their lives as well.

While it's a novel concept to most and one I'm seriously considering implementing and studying more about, I can't help but chuckle. It's comical to me simply because, as I look back on my life, I've been a minimalist for as long as I can remember. It was purely unintentional but I've always been that way. Hell! My mom raised me that way. We were poor so it came easy because, well, everything was minimal.

I don't think I've ever bought or owned a TV and if I did have one in my possession, it was a gift or hand-me-down type item. I've bought radios and CD players but I've kept them small so that I can travel with them. Speaking of traveling, I've always done so light because I don't own that much in the way of clothes and apparel. Usually one suitcase or duffel bag is all I need to move all of my belongings from one place to another. Hell! I don't even own a car anymore nor do I plan to ever own one lest I win the lottery. Then I'm buying Shelby Mustang I've always wanted, but I digress.

I'm reminded of the movie Fight Club. Two quotes in particular come to mind.

"The things you own end up owning you."

...and...

"It's only after you lose everything that you're free to do
anything."

Makes sense, doesn't it? If it doesn't, that's OK. Choosing to live this way, in the way in which I've read about that people have chosen, is still a little weird to me. I mean, as much as I can say I don't own much, I also don't save money the way a minimalist should and I'm not ashamed of that. Everyone has their vices. Still, to really adopt that lifestyle, I have to start living a little more frugally. I guess I can cut back on the beer and alcohol. I'm trying to better my life by minimizing anyway. I guess I should minimize my alcohol and tobacco consumption. Well, I'll try to at the very least.

I'm going to go to my storage unit today and start seeing what it is that I can live without. If I don't need it, it goes. Moreover, I'm going to include in that list all of the old letters and pictures I've kept from past lovers. I don't need to be haunted by ghosts of the past anymore. Starting today, I minimalize my emotional baggage and, I will shorten my long lists of regrets. God-willing, maybe one day I can get rid of that list once and for all.

Unspoken For.

I'm trying to figure out if I want a girlfriend or not. It may not sound like a difficult question but it is for me. I miss the intimacy, sure. I am quite lonely; that's a given. Nevertheless, am I ready for a full-blown, legitimate, honest to goodness, committed to one person relationship? I don't know. I'm feeling torn and very confused. (And for those of you reading this that are already calling me a dog, FUCK OFF! I'm being honest! Last I checked, women want that quality in a man.)

I always thought that I could be a bachelor for the rest of my life and just enjoy a woman's company when it suited me. However, I'm set in my ways. After awhile, I expect certain things out of a woman and the Good Lord knows no one woman is like another. Each one far too unique to be mistaken for another. That being said, what the fuck happened to blowjobs?! Seriously! Is there like a BJ boycott or something I'm not aware of? If there is, it sucks and, ironically, it's the only thing that does! (That pun was very much intended!) In a weird way, I'm kind of happy that women aren't throwing that out there all the time. That just helps me discern how deep I'm getting into the relationship. (If there is one forming, that is.) Basically, I take the blowjob as the high sign that the chick is digging me but I digress. I think I've stayed off topic long enough.

To girlfriend or not to girlfriend? That is the question and while I want to, I'm a bit apprehensive. The truth of the matter is, even though I've matured a lot since my last relationship, I know I have the potential to fuck a relationship up as if I had a PhD in fucking up relationships. I start off strong and then I somehow manage to screw up a good thing. (Seriously! I've been doing it since the Corps days.) Still, I won't lie. The only reason I'm writing this blog entry is because I have an interest in someone. Perhaps I just answered my own question.

Hangover Heaven

This has been, by far, one of the most entertaining weekends of my life. So much so, in fact, that I have to put it in the Top 10 All-Time Best Time list. Actually, it started way prior to Friday.

I've been in and out of more bars than I can remember and, for some reason, I feel a rejuvenation in my game. Well, maybe not my game because I really don't have much of it anymore but I am actually excited about dating, flirting, etc., a little more lately. That might not seem like a big deal to anyone reading this but it is. For a long time, I was out of it. I didn't see myself with anyone. Still don't but I'm hopeful. That whole incident with me almost becoming a father really put things in perspective.

So there was a make out session last week with someone I really didn't think would be down for it. It was nice. Great, even! I hadn't done the "making out on the couch" thing in a long time. I felt like I was in high school and was making out at a girl's house whilst her parents were out. Sounds corny, I know but it's the little things that go miles and miles with me.


Then the flirting everywhere else...bars, bus stops, bookstores...has been a little out of control and overwhelming by my previously recent standards. I don't know what it is that's gotten into me but I'm riding out this wave for as long as I have it in me to do so.

Oh! And strippers help boost that surge inside me (And YES! I know it's really stupid to think they're after anything but money but I have a wonderful imagination!)

But anyway, I'm trying to calm down. I've drinking everyday for the the past five days; the culminaton coming on Saturday with the mother of all bachelor parties! (Hence the strippers. Stay focused!) I still have two more days off of work so I'm gonna enjoy them in the same fashion even though my funds are beginning to diminish. Hell! I'm writing this blog from BLVD Bar & Grill in Elmwood Park. Got a pint of Yuengling and a shot of Jack Daniels next to me. (I'm nursing the shit out of them but I'm still drinking! So much for "trying to calm down," huh?) Actually, I have to go to another bar to meet up with friends but I can't pry myself from this barstool because, if there's one thing I love better than anything, it's people-watching.

The person I'm watching at the moment is some cat named Freebird (I shit you not! That's his name.) I think he's homeless because I never see him with a beer in front of him and he's always eating people's leftovers but he's a gas to watch. Apparently, he likes jamming to the music on the juke. Right now, he's jamming to (Wait for it!) FREEBIRD! Homeless, in a bar, eating leftovers and jamming to Freebird. I don't know why, but I'm kinda jealous of him! LOL! (No, seriously! I am.)

This whole blog is an exercise in chaos! I know this. However, that's what happens when I'm in super hangover mode. My mind is pure chaos at the moment. I can't make sense of anything nor do I intend to. To quote one of my favorite movie phrases: I'm an agent of chaos!