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Sunday, December 18, 2005

December 18th, 1991, a cold late fall morning. just like you would expect, just like the ones that came before and the ones to follow. It was going to be a great day for me. I was part of my schools Moot court team, and we had finished first in the preliminary rounds of the city wide competition and finished top 2 overall. Rogers & Wells, the law firm that sponsored us and helped prepare us and do our research, was going to have a catered luncheon with the team and school representatives to give us some recognition and a certificate of participation.

But we had to get through the regular routine of our class schedule, and for me that included Gym Class. That day it was an open period, meaning that they opened up those big accordian doors, and they had 9 different things going on. Typical routine for the week before christmas. There was Volleyball, Soccer, basketball, handball, but the sport I was interested in was football. Or more specificaly, field goal kicking. The football coach was at one end of the gym teaching one person the proper way to hold the ball, and then teaching someone else the proper form in approach and kicking of the ball. I figured I'd give it a shot, what harm could it do, and I waited my turn. When my time came, I followed the coaches directions, lined up, stepped back, and went for it. I made contact, and as I was in the middle of the follow through, a balck kid ran right in front of me chasing after a basket ball. So to try to avoid running into him, I planted my left foot trying to stop my momentum. Apparently that wasn't a good idea, since the popping noise my knee made was heard by the 5 people standing around me. I didn't go down at first, I was just standing there hobbling on one foot, not even screaming, and then I tried to walk, and I went right down. At that point, I started calling for help, I had three of the gym teachers standing around me, while they sent someone for the school security and to call an ambulence.

So as I'm laying there, on the floor, they decide that they need to keep going on with the class, with me in the middle of the floor. At one point, the volleyball gets loose, and someone almost plows into me trying to chase it down. Now I was just getting pissed? I'm sure people would have understood, and most of those fat asses would have appreciated having a reason not to work up a sweat. But to make matters worse, the gym teacher who was known as the asshole (which is really saying something) decided to joke around and tell me if I didn't get up and start doing laps he'd fail my ass. I know that one of your students laying on his back in pain may be just another part of his day, but it was really weighing heavy on my mind at the time. So, as it turned out, not just one person, but 5 different people called my mother's job to tell her that I had gotten hurt, and she showed up before even the ambulence did. And when they did, they put me in a wheelchair, told me to brace my broken leg with my good leg, and rolled me out to the ambulence, which really was killing me, because I was being bounced and knocked into everything.

From there I was brought to Jacobi Hospital, just a real shit hole of a hospital. At first I had to sit there for an hour, waiting for them to decide to take an x-ray, then when they finally did, they then put me in the Juvenile wing of the ER. And during this time, they put me next to a curtain where a baby who had to be under 9 months old was being worked on. And while I laid there, in pain, trying to not watch this baby in trouble, I had an orderly come up to me, give me a thumbs up, and tell me that I had the coolest x-ray he's seen in a month. Wow, I'm glad that I could impress you like that, would you like to see if they need help giving the baby CPR? Unfortunately, the baby didn't make it, and I got to see watch it, and then the whole family cry for the next few hours as I waited for the doctors to tell me that my knee was broken and I would need surgery. But I didn't want those assholes near me, so we made plans for a sports surgeon at Einstein hospital, and I got out of there as quick as my crippled as could move.

So when I got home, I really needed to go to the bathroom, and I asked my sister to help me. I sat on the bowl, fully dressed and covered, and I just asked my younger sister to help lift my leg up on the side of the bath tub to take the pressure off of my knee. Just as she lifted it up to about 10 inches, the phone rang, and my sister spun on her heels, letting go of my foot and dropping it to the floor. That hurt like a motherfucker, I was seeing stars as she came back in to the bathroom, upset that it was just my father calling to see how I was doing, and couldn't understand why I was screaming.

So I went and had my knee surgery on Christmas eve, and unfortunately, that meant I was in the hospital that night. And as I was coming to, no one ever gave me the little button to call the nurse, and they left the TV on the hospital information channel, which was playing WPLJ's horrible christmas music. The Paul McCartney "Wonderful Christmas Time" song, and the one that "Oh Micky" chick sings, it was pure torture. So I kind of just put up with it until the morning, when my Aunt, who works for the hospital, came in before visiting hours and started decorating the rigging of my leg brace and everything around the bed with garland and a few ornaments, including one that was Santa kicking a football, because she thought it was cute. And it was one of those things I was just glad I had no one see me like this. And just then, Mr. Mulqueen, my favorite teacher from school came in the room with a gift for me. He just looked and shook his head. And then gave me a gift, it was a collection of Abraham Lincoln's speaches and writings. I was moved by that, because he took out time with his own family on christmas morning to come and check up on me. I still have the book in my collection just because it meant so much to me.

But yeah, that's why today is always bittersweet for me. It lead me down a path that I still have issues I deal with to this day. I mean when you go through 3 operations in 6 months, and you have a near death experience during one, it kind of gets to your head.

But I've typed long enough, you'll need to wait for that story.

Thursday, June 02, 2005

Just a random thought to let everyone know I'm alive



Who knew the taste of Sour Cream and Onion could be so erotic?

Saturday, March 12, 2005

Happy Birthday to me




I don't know, I seem to be having a lot of views lately, so I figure I should say something.

I'm having an interesting birthday week. On Wednesday night I had my party at Red Rock. I had just as many people no show as who turned out, but I had a great time anyway. As usual, Alicia and Erin made the night interesting. Besides the nice gift they gave me, Alicia baked me a very nice cake, which at midnight she tried to "feed" to me which meant covering me in it, and then later on in the night yelled at me for ruining the cake she worked so hard on. But for Alicia, that's par for the course. I managed to get home by 4 in the morning, shower, and get into bed by 4:30, which was a good thing.

I got up at 7:30 the next morning to go see a surgeon at Montifore Hospital. I had been diagnosed with an Infected Abscess in my back the Friday before, which had swelled up to the size of a golf ball and was really killing me. That day the doctor drained between 5 and 10 milliliters of fluid out of it and really seemed impressed. But we couldn't get a hold of the Surgeon's office that day, so the next day when I called they told me the only possible appointment they could give me for the foreseeable future was 8 am Thursday. So the plan was get up, get dressed, get in a cab and get to the office, but of course, my life is never that simple. My mother had taken my birthday off, in hopes that I would continue the tradition of going to Atlantic City on my birthday that I've maintained since I was 21. But, having been in pain for the better part of 3 weeks, I really wasn't in the mood to be on a bus for 3 hours to have to follow my mother around to all of the slot machines in all the casinos while I sat there and did nothing. So when I told her that I had this appointment, she wanted to be involved. So since she lived 4 blocks from the hospital, she got there early and signed me in, the only problem being that I was running a little late (I think I had the right, after my 3 hours of sleep) and was still waiting for a cab near my house 15 minutes away. She was actually yelling at me that I had to get there, and I had to lie because she signed me in and we had to have a cover story. Nothing like a mother to add more stress to an already stressful situation. So I finally get to see a doctor, he says everything looks fine now, but they want to see me in 6 weeks, then I have to wait for the surgeon to come say and do the same exact things. So all that stress and lack of sleep just to be pushed along in 5 minutes. I guess I should be happy. But my mother felt she had to do something for me, so she decided to treat me to breakfast in the hospital cafeteria. Boy, people just know how to spoil me. It was pretty good, I had an omelet from their station, some corned beef hash, and a bagel. My mother was still trying to convince me to go to the Port Authority to catch a bus to Atlantic City, but I really needed to get back to bed. So when I woke up that afternoon, I had lots of emails and IMs from people apologizing for no showing me. A few wanted to make it up to me, including a former co-worker who wanted to treat me to lunch and give me a gift, so I just made my plans for Friday.

So Friday I went into the city and had lunch with Florine. We compared notes, since I hadn't worked with her for 4 years, and we both have a lot of interesting things going on in our lives. She gave me my gift, but was too embarrassed to have me open it in front of her. And she pretty much should have been embarrassed. It was 30 pennies taped to the inside of a file folder, with 15 scratch off lottery tickets taped to the other side. Now don't get me wrong, I appreciate the gesture and the effort it took her to put it together, but that's the kind of gift you give an elderly grandmother, not a hot, young, 30 year old man like myself. But it was still very nice. But now I was in the city with nothing else to do, so I decided to walk from 42nd and 3rd to 24th and 8th to go see a movie. I strolled over, saw Be Cool, which was very good, and still, at 6 o'clock, had nothing to do and didn't want to go home. So I walked from 34th and 8th, to 23rd and 6th, to the Best Buy, to look at digital cameras in hopes that my family listened to me this year and are just getting me gift cards so I can get me one. After doing that, I was still bored, and it was 7:30, so I decided to walk from 23rd and 6th, to 17th and 10th, over to Red Rock. Yes, I was there on Wednesday, but Alison was working last night, and she wasn't able to make it out Wednesday night, so I wanted to stop by and say hi. Alison was cool as usual, and was nice enough to not beat me for my birthday because of my back, but that didn't stop her from slapping me around a bit. I also got to harass Noelle for not coming Wednesday, the second time she no showed me in 3 weeks (You'd think I'd get the hint by now). She was apologetic, and swore she was sorry and that she'd make it up to me, but I'll just wait and see.

So as I'm wrapping this up, I'm getting ready to go to the 30th birthday party my mother planned for me with my whole family, there's supposed to be 23 of us. We're having it at Gasho's, a Japanese Hibachi restaurant. We went there last year for mother's day and had a good time, but I had a really bad allergic reaction. My sister seemed to forget this when she told my mother that I really wanted to have my party there, and not at Dave and Buster's, where they have really incredible pizza bites that my mouth was already watering over. So I'm off to smile, nod, and answer the same 10 questions over and over.

Maybe I'll have an update tonight.

Wednesday, February 23, 2005

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Wednesday, February 16, 2005

The end is near



That's right, on March 10th, my last claims to youth will be completely behind me (except for the action figures on my desk, and cartoon characters on my underwear) I'll be turning 30 on that day. So of course, I'm going to put up a fight. My last stand will be on Wednesday, March 9th, at Red Rock West I refuse to go quietly into the night. I will hopefully be surrounded by a lot of my friends, loud music playing, beautiful girls serving drinks and blowing fire. I'll be there from 8 PM counting down the minutes to midnight, when I will have to accept the fact that I am an adult and pretty much a waste of space.

And, for those people who were interested in getting me something, (or those who now feel guilted into getting me something, can pick something from my Amazon Wish List

Tuesday, February 08, 2005

I've given up on the internet



I've just been really bored for the last week, so I've been spending a lot of time in Yahoo chat, just because I can only take so much of the Food Network. So on Saturday night, I get this woman writing to me out of nowhere. She's from Alabama, in NY for business, and when I said I was from the city she decided to talk to me to possibly meet up. That may have been cool, anonymous sex with a stranger you know will be gone by the end of the week, but she turned it from something that could have been wild and fun to something out of hand.

She is a hardcore submissive and she wanted to be dominated. At first it sounded cool, she was talking about some spanking, which I've done a little of before and know how to do it the right way, to pulling my socks off with her teeth and sucking on my toes. Something I'm not entirely comfortable with, mostly for being ticklish, but not something I'm entirely opposed to. Then she wanted me to spit and possibly put "other" fluids in her eye. Having worn contacts for most of my life, and then having Laser eye surgery, anything going into the eyeball that doesn't belong there really skeeves me out. Then she started on about Golden Showers, and ultimately Cleveland Steamers. If you don't know what those are, consider yourself lucky. If you do know what it is, you'll know why I only spoke to her for an hour more and then had nothing more to do with her. Is this why I can't meet somebody? Is everyone perverted and too tied up in their own fetishes to look for somebody not entirely attractive but with a good personality?

Eh, whatever, at least I still have my pride.






Oh yeah, forget that last part.

Sunday, January 23, 2005

Guess who's back, back again..,



Well, I'm guessing it's time for me to give everyone a bit of an update.

In the middle of December, I crashed my Old Companies Christmas party. I had told Cynthia, the receptionist and my best office buddy, that I was coming down, and she mentioned it to our department head and he had no problem with it. But I didn't care anyway. When I went there it was weird, it was like being at my own wake. Almost everyone came up to me and said "You were such a nice guy, it shouldn't have happened the way it did" I just told them that I'm still a nice guy, and how did it happen?

It turns out that a fairly new project manager had a problem with me billing to his overhead, which I had to do being the office technician just for general office up keep and answering the phones, and the like. And actually, the 3 weeks before I was let go, he would keep removing me from his project numbers on the electric timesheets and it was a struggle to get me back on. The thing I didn't know at that time was that he had his nose firmly planted in the ass of one of the corporate big wigs, so when Jessica, the office manager, was "discussing" (See also:arguing) with him through email about me billing to him, he carbon copied 12 big wigs with the question "What exactly does Gary do?" he managed to raise a few eyebrows. They would figure that a Project manager in my office would know what I would do after working there 18 months, so I must be doing nothing, and I can be let go. The reason this really pisses me off, is that the very day before, he had me come down to our office in the financial district of NY (See Very Bottom) from the Fordham section of the Bronx (see very top) at 7 in the morning to help set up a class for him. The thing was, the night before I was hanging out with my friend who was coming up into the city, and I couldn't cancel with her because we had been planning it for a while, so I was debating coming right from the bar and sleeping at my desk to be sure I was there on time. Yeah, that's the kind of person you want to let go... So I was called in at 4:55 and told that due to the need to cut overhead, they would need to let me go. I was hurt. Sure, it may not have been the best, but I hate losing a job if I've done nothing wrong. And by the time I was back at my desk to pack up my stuff, they had already locked me out of the computers, which annoyed me because there were a few pictures of my nephews that were on there that I wasn't able to forward to myself. I deserved better treatment then that.

But, something else that I found out at the christmas party, is that no one was happy about it. Starting on the monday after, anytime they were asking for someone to take care of something I did, they would write back "Oh, that's what Gary takes care of... oh, that's reight, he's gone" It got so bad that they actually had to have a meeting with everyone in the office to calm the situation. And supposedly, it's even been mentioned this past week that I took care of a lot there. And this was by the other Department Manager who I did a lot of work for, but he appreciated it.

So I decided to take it easy through the holidays, and get serious now, but apparently the rest of the world isn't taking it as seriously as I am. I haven't heard much back and it's a little depressing, but I'll work through it with my NEW HOME COMPUTER.





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