The State of "Eh", Chapter 4

Chapter 4 - The Prelude to Big Crazy


I met Big Crazy at Joe's Pub. Years ago. He was a model. I made it a rule to not date models right before I started dating a few models.

Good work, Jean.

I also made it a rule to not date Big Crazy at the same time that I started dating Big Crazy.

In my defense, right after I met him, heard his corny ass pick up line, took his stupid number on that stupid paper and vowed to never call him... I meant that shit. I meant it so fucking hard. I gave new meaning to "meant". That's not really a good defense, is it???

Let me explain.

The reason I ended up going out with Big Crazy, was Blackplanet.
Blackplanet and it's stupid ass dating results.

For about 2 months, I had been talking to a guy I met on Blackplanet. We seemed to click well, phone conversations were cool, all in all, I was interested. It's a pretty big deal if I'm even slightly interested, so ... it was a pretty big deal to go on a "date".

I'm not very good at "dates".. I mean, I have incredible date ideas.... elaborate plans.... I would like to be taken on dates.. I just end up not really GOING on very many dates.
Circumstances are always different in my relationships.

I had one boyfriend who was the king of dates.. It was a welcome experience. We would be thoroughly exhausted after all our "date" time though... Falling asleep at dinner, just... man... we were dating HARD.
He took dates to SCHOOL. Learned them... smacked them in the date mouth with a white dueling glove. This motherfucker could plan some motherfucking DATES.
I tried to match his "Master of Dates" status and plan a kick ass date when he came to NY. I failed miserably. He looked miserable. I was so angry.
That's another story though....

I digress.

Back to Blackplanet.

So we had planned a date. Actually, no.. I had planned a date. It was a doozy of an evening. Well, it WOULD have been a doozy of an evening if I had went on the date with SOMEONE ELSE.

Siiiigh.

I really overestimated his.... well.. comprehension of EVERYTHING.
I don't know how he managed to play off intelligence on the internet, or on the phone. I like to think it was a Cyrano sort of situation and someone was feeding him lines to me. Where is THAT dude? I should have been on the date with that dude.

Having his fake intelligence and fake free spirit in mind, the date was planned like this:

Meet up at Union Square.
Go to very rare showing of "A Clockwork Orange" ( I KNOW!!! RIGHT?)
Stop by Remote Lounge for drinks and fun (Remote used to be fun as hell! Great concept bar until it got ruined).
Late night dinner at.. well.. any great late night downtown NYC eatery.


None of those things went right.

He showed up at Union Square as the 1.5 version of his Blackplanet/phone 8.0 version...................

"Oh..." I thought, "there's no way in hell I'm sitting through this fucking great movie with you." I thought.
"I'ma go inside and just see how tickets are looking right now" Is what I said.

Man, I came out of that building looking real disappointed. All Longface McNichols I was.
"No more tickets" said I.

I grabbed my fake sadness next to me and held it there for the remainder of the night.
Clutching that sadness made me feel slightly better. I held it to me.. close like a sad, outdated pocketbook.

"Duh." His face and body language said.
"Shut up." My body language, unreadable by the retarded, said back.

They had tickets. They had 29 tickets left. I remember the number, simply for the number.
"We have 29 tickets left" -them
"That's a damn shame" - me
I truly, deeply, wanted to see that movie on a big screen. Hopefully it will happen again. I just, I just couldn't even do it.
Just NO.

I really wasn't in the mood to go home yet. I had gotten ready for the night, date ready... all groomed and preened and other "eds". Fuck it.. let's just drink. It's quite possible that I could give him away at Remote, as well as find a new date. Okay, let's try that.


We take a cab down to Remote Lounge... I warn him.. yet again.. "yeah don't try and match me drink for drink.. you will lose... it will be awful..."

Fast forward 2 hours later...

We're in McDonald's. 22nd & 6th ave.
He is WASTED. Mostly because I told him- "yeah don't try and match me drink for drink.. you will lose... it will be awful..."

He didn't listen.

At this point, I'm like... "Say man.... umm.. lemme buy you a cheeseburger or something to soak your liquor up"
We are never going to a level PAST McDonalds.... so I figure this is a nice gesture.
Dude is not standing on line with me. Dude is at the seats in the front passed out.

OH NO... PASSED THE FUCK OUT.

I try and wake him up.. I stood on that line for 15 fucking dumb ass minutes getting him some fucking food.
He is not getting up.
I don't even half ass try.... I genuinely try to wake him up... Grab his face, stuff it in the bag... ......Nothing. Lift his arms and smack his face with his own hands.. Nothing.

Ok, well fuck it then.. It is 1: 07 am... I sir, am STILL not done with my dating evening.

I then make a choice that I consider a hard, tough choice in my dating career.
I should leave him.
Right there.
In the McDonalds.
Fuck this.
I tried.

I contemplate this outside, while dragging hard on my cigarette... randomly turning around to see if anyone has started messing with him yet and sucking my teeth every time I look.

Good Jean says: What if someone tries to kill him??? He's not from Manhattan!!!! What if he gets robbed??? You could just put him in a cab.

Normal Jean says: Yeah, well....prolly should have thought all those amazing thoughts before you decided that you could have 4 dirty martinis. Seriously... FOUR??? That's ALL?? That is a grown man. I, Jean am not responsible for some strangers mishaps. Plus, he was a total crap date. Even before passing out. There wasn't much difference between him being conscious and comatose. Just leave him there with the food.

Crap.

I flicked my stog across the street and walked to the payphone. I didn't turn around again.
Same pocketbook from the night I met Big Crazy.
I was out, I was sure he'd be out..... why not..


RING RING....
RING...

"Hey.. it's Jean.. HI! Umm.. what are you doing?"


to be cont.........

The State of "Eh" , Chapter 3

Chapter 3 - Perfectly Shitty, Harp Playing Angels

He was hot. He was a really hot guy.
We used to watch him in the park. Grouped together, giggling at his steaminess.
He played ball.. I think..
Maybe he just wore a lot of jerseys.

I didn't really care. He looked hot in the jerseys. He could have been the worst basketball player ever.
He could have played cricket, for all I care. I sincerely doubt that though. Not too many cricket players in .. wait, where was he from? I'm sure I knew what borough he was from at the time, but years have passed and insignificant details like that tend to pour right out of my mind. His last name, things he liked to do, hist first na--- kidding... but, irrelevant things like that.
I keep the good info, like he was hot. Or, the super bad bullshit, which I'll get to.

One day while sitting, doing steaminess giggling, the moment happened. OOOOHH!!
Is he walking over here?? Is he smiling at me??? OOOooooOh!!!!

My girlfriends giggled harder, mumbled a bunch of "Oh shit, bitch.. he's coming over here" like quotes, while elbowing me in the sides. It wasn't subtle. You don't know how to be workably subtle at 21. It's a learned skill. They might has well have just ripped my top off and thrust me forward into his path while dancing around going - " OoOoOGA BOOGA MAAAN GOOOD!!"

Right.

So, by the time I had finished directing the scene where he walked in slow motion towards me, smiling, teeth glinting in the afternoon sun, women throwing their underwear as he dodged it..... he had already been standing there for about a minute.
Stupid face me.

My friends weren't any help. Their jaws on the floor, oozing drool into the park grates. We must have looked insanely retarded.

"Hey, " he said. It snapped me out of my dream sequence and back to the park.
"Ooh. Heeeeey. Hi. Hi there. Hi." I gushed my words ineptly. "Hey, man." Why was I continuing to say "Hi?"
SHUT UP ME!!

"What's ya name?" said Sexytron McSexface.

I had no idea what my name was. All I could hear in my head was "whatever you liiiike" from Coming To America.
No, don't answer with that.
Umm, what the fuck is my name again?? Stacey? Susie? Oh no.. I have to say something back. Uh.. uh...

"Yeah." I finally responded. "Yeah, my name." DOH!!!!

He cocked his head to the side quizzically and frowned his perfect eyebrows to form the cutest isosceles triangle between his perfect long lashed eyes. Perfect.

"Yeah," he smiled - "your name?"

I was okay. I could handle this. I mean, I'm ME! Pull it together.... spit some game..

"Tsidi," I managed to get it out with a smile, followed by a flirty point -"You?"

Alright now.. let's scale back on the burlesque hand point.... just answering questions is good.. no need to choreograph and act like someone is going to throw me a top hat and a cane.

"Steve." (not his name).

Oh................ yeah.



I think the sky opened to reveal angels playing harps on clouds when we... well.. you know. Well, I doubt it would be the same experience now, but I was young and... I was young.

Other than that, Steve was boring. Boring, insipid, and dumb. Dumb, insipid and boring.
I can't actually recall any conversation of value ever being held between us. I tried not to talk too much, so as not to hurt his mind. I swear I heard bits of it imploding when we were close. Just vanishing, right out of his beautiful skull. *THWAP* Gone.
Tiny puffs of smoke wafting out of his perfectly crafted ears, hanging in the air just long enough for me to blow them away, pat him on the head and say -"shhh."

Yeah, Steve and I had no future. I endured the (yeah RIGHT, ENDURED, HA) physical relationship for as long as I could, without feeling like I was losing brain cells just being around him. I had to end it. I was pretty sure he wouldn't be heartbroken, or know how to spell heartbroken, so it wasn't a big deal .
Just one more time and I would be ready to say "buuhhhh bye".

The morning after my decided END, I got up and went to get a coffee and some cigarettes from the deli downstairs. I ended up smoking and walking around the block once, practicing my "this just isn't going to work" speech.
I was feeling good about my fake sad face, deliberate words and general false melancholy by the time I got back upstairs.

I opened the door, looked around.. Where's Steve?
At this time I was living in what I dubbed, my "Studio Duplex". A small studio apartment in Chelsea with a giant loft bed. You could indeed swing a cat in there, but the cat wouldn't make it past the first wall. This to say, that if he was there, I would have known immediately.

Hmm.. ok.. well.. this is weird. No note, no call to my cell to say he was leaving...
I was relieved and annoyed at the same time.
Okay, so .. I don't have to make this dumb ass speech? Great... but.. did he just... break up with ME FIRST???
Heeeeey Steve... saaaaay man...

I went in the bathroom to wash my hands and........


Get the fuck out of here.

My toilet is full of log.


Not just one log. Two. Two giant logs hugged up on each other.
Oh, fucking no. I look away and cry out "AGGGHHHHH" and flush.... TRY to flush... handle just jiggles about. You're kidding.
Yo.. did he ..... Did he just shit logs, break my toilet and bounce???

I run out of the bathroom repulsed, grab my cell and call my friend, while running out of my door.
I tell her the whole story quickly as I take the stairs two at a time down to the lobby to find the handyman.
I also realize that I feel like I have to explain how the logs are not my property. I don't even see how things that size could come out of a human body. I do not want the handyman thinking I have a super human sized anus. Or colon. Oh God.
My story sounds suspect...

Sure.. sure.. some guys shits in your toilet and leaves.. Yeah, happens all the time. Sure miss.

Sigh. I think I saw Steve a couple years later. He did not look as spectacular. I didn't really know how to bring up the logs.
"Hey.. uh.. what was the deal with you shitting and breaking my facilities and then just leaving? Not calling me? I was breaking up with YOU!!! YOU ASSHOLE!!"

I wanted to say that, part of me... I just felt that, at that point, the story had enriched my life. I didn't care as to why he did it. In fact I'm sure that HE doesn't know why he did it.

Or maybe I underestimated Steve.

Maybe Steve is and was, truly diabolical....had grown tired of my stupid WORDS and THOUGHTS.
Maybe Steve hated spending time with me as much as I hated spending time with him.
Maybe, Steve had devised this plan all along and was just waiting for the right time when I left the house to put it all into action.
Maybe Steve has been telling this story to all his friends over the years, mocking me, laughing.

Heeeey.. wait a minute.

Fuck You, Steve!
(especially if you're reading this).

How Have I Changed?

I was going through my myspace blogs and I came across one of these "personal surveys" I did. I'm not one who does these usually.. I think it was just a "why not?" sort of moment I had.

So, I'll do it again. Decidedly to see how much my answers have changed over this period of time... and share. Like you even care to know. If you don't care, you should leave now. GO! GET OUT!

Here's the original...

Monday, March 10, 2008

Answering quizveys
Current mood: complacent
Category: News and Politics
Don't do em.
Never have.
I changed my mind, thought.. why the fuck not?

What's your Status?:
-Superstar

What scares You the most about Guy's?:
- Guy's who have a capital letter on "g" seem scary. I suppose because they're important or something. On second look, the "y" in "you" is also capitalized. I suppose this diminishes the fear and places us on the same level. So I am no longer afraid. Nothing then. Nothing scares me. About "Guys".

Have you ever lied to make someone happy?
-No. Never. Are you happy reading this?

Like to travel?
-Depends where to. Trip to the city dump. Fucking detest it. Fiji? Let's roll out.

Like Someone?
- Again with the important people. I guess this works here. Uh, yeah.

Do they know?
-Yup

Who sleeps with you every night?
-Why does that sound like I need assistance sleeping? Ha!
Like, "who helps you brush your teeth everday?"
Way to avoid an answer though, huh?

Think you're attractive?
-Sometimes.

Want to get married?
-Let's deal with this divorcing status first, shall we?

Are you a good student?
-Define "good". While we're at it, define "student" and "are".
I'd like to think so.

Are you currently happy?
-I'm ok. Happy? Like filled with glee? Not really.

Have you ever cheated? Been cheated on?
-Yup. Yup, yup, yup, yup... I could continue.

Have you ever kissed someone who is just a friend?
-I don't understand the question. I can't even see the screen. That question is too small! I can't answer it. Why would you make your questions so small?? That people can't SEE them and ANSWER!! Thank God I can see the next one.


New Year's Resulotion?
-Only a little into the year. It could drastically change. Could be like, "stop maiming the elderly". Or "quit doing shots of yager at carnivals". Or, "work out more...not drunk". I don't know yet.

Do you believe in God?
-That's between me and my maker. Mmemnoch.

Do long distance relationships work?
-I dunno.

Do you believe in astrology?
-It's not a myth, so yes.

Do you believe in love at first sight?
-Yup.

Are you the Jealous type?
-The good jealous (normal people jealous) and then when driven to utter insane behavior, the OTHER kind of jealous that has involved tape recorders and elaborately planned schemes and plots to expose the other partner. Yeah. Not anymore though.
Boooooo that shit.

Do you drink or smoke?
-Nope. Never touch the stuff.

Do you make fun of people?
-Am I breathing?

Do you think dreams eventually come true?
-Manifest Destiny.

What are your Nicknames?
-I'll talk about the ones I can type publicly. Jeannie, Jean Greasy, Jean Grizzle, Jeannie Grigio, Red Bean, Jean Naté, Jeanie Bean... lol a lot.

Go to the movies or rent?
-Rent? What year is this?

Have you ever moved?
-My persona-. I am moving right no--. Oh yeah, word. Mad times son.

Have you ever stolen anything?
-Hahaha. Yeah.

How's the weather right now?
-Winteresque.

Last time you cut your hair?
-4 days ago.

Last person you talked to on the phone?
-My mama.

Are you a Taker or a Giver?
-Giver.

Loud or soft music?
-Loud as fuck. You would swear Redman was inside the tru--

The Song that is playing in your page is dedicated to?
-Heh, heh.

Night or day?
-Night.. but summertime?? Outside?? Day.

Do you have a Tatoo?
-No, I think they're for losers.

Do you have real plant's at home?
- I have flowers.. other than that, I murder plants. But I'm gonna plant veggies and herbs in the back. Oh! Also, steak. I'ma grow steak.

Future job?
-film director

Current job?
-I don't know.

Current love?
-rollerskating jams, writing, Superman.

Current longing?
-$$$, summertime, stability, more flat surfaces in my apartment. Unresolved situations and communication issues to be deaded.

Current disappointment?
- don't want to talk about it.

Current annoyance?
-The world turning into Idiocracy for real.

Have you ever loved someone?
-yup

Last thing you bought?
-wine

Most recent thing you are looking forward to?
- laying in bed

If you could go to any place right now where would you go?
-to the future. For like 10 minutes. With a videocamera that I could bring back.

Do you support the war in Iraq?
-seriously?

Who you want for Valentines Day?
-Like as a present?? LOL. Or a pass? Umm.. Superman.

Pick a movie quote?
- Well. I have good news. I no longer fear death.

Date you filled this survey?
-Todizzle.


Here's the new one:

Monday, March 10, 2008


What's your Status?:
-Motherfucking Superstar

What scares You the most about Guy's?:
- I know a guy named Guy. Guy is cool as shit. I don't know what you're asking about OF Guy's... like Guy's what? That's weird. This is a weird question.

Have you ever lied to make someone happy?
-I have. It doesn't make anyone happy in the end.

Like to travel?
-Very much.

Like Someone?
- Yes.

Do they know?
-I try and explain it... I'm not quite sure if they get it or not. It's frustrating.

Who sleeps with you every night?
-I do.

Think you're attractive?
-Yes.

Want to get married?
-Let's deal with this divorcing status first, shall we? ( I have to change this)

Are you a good student?
-I would like to think so. Sometimes I'm not ready to learn things. I'm trying to get better at that.

Are you currently happy?
-In certain ways, yes. Very much.

Have you ever cheated? Been cheated on?
-Yes. Yes.

Have you ever kissed someone who is just a friend?
- Yes, but I don't just kiss people all willy nilly. If that kiss happened, we were not just friends afterwards.


New Year's Resulotion?
-You misspelled that shit.

Do you believe in God?
-

Do long distance relationships work?
-Not in my experience. I mean, not for me.... but I can't speak for everyone.

Do you believe in astrology?
-Yes.

Do you believe in love at first sight?
-Oh yes. Yes.

Are you the Jealous type?
-I would love to say I'm not. I am. If given reason. Otherwise, no.

Do you drink or smoke?
-Yup, yup.

Do you make fun of people?
-I'm doing it RIGHT NOW. and NOW.. and whenever you read this. Then 5 minutes after that. On a loop.

Do you think dreams eventually come true?
-They must.

What are your Nicknames?
-I have a few. None will be discussed in this forum.

Go to the movies or rent?
-Movies.

Have you ever moved?
-I try to stay very, very still. It's really best for everyone.. lol. I'm a nomad. Trying to settle now. I know this is not the last place I will live. It is where I need to be right now.

Have you ever stolen anything?
-yessir.

How's the weather right now?
-quite nice for the time of year.

Last time you cut your hair?
-my HAIR hair? or hair that became my hair by way of purchase? If purchase, 2 days ago.

Last person you talked to on the phone?
-Aquarius.

Are you a Taker or a Giver?
-Giver. Too much.

Loud or soft music?
-Loud as fuck. You would swear Redman was inside the tru--

The Song that is playing in your page is dedicated to?
-They're all dedicated to that cat. All of em. All the time. All day son.

Night or day?
-Night. No matter the weather. Summertime, daytime wins over night.

Do you have a Tatoo?
-Just got a new one too. Yes. got em.

Do you have real plant's at home?
- I didn't do well with the ones on the terrace. I do well with plants... I just gave up. Sorry plants. I was gonna get new ones today, but Pharoahe did not drive to Home Depot. Blame him.

Future job?
-film director

Current job?
-Writer

Current love?
-Music, magic, writing, my life, a dude.

Current longing?
-To finish a book. To get these videos shot. To clarify things. To shut people up.

Current disappointment?
- I don't even know how to answer this.

Current annoyance?
-Same as the disappointment.

Have you ever loved someone?
-Yes.

Last thing you bought?
-Thai food and some great dresses from the vintage store.

Most recent thing you are looking forward to?
-performing tomorrow night. conversation (this is getting bad)

If you could go to any place right now where would you go?
-miami

Do you support the war in Iraq?
-seriously?

Who you want for Valentines Day?
-why is that written all slang and shit? "Who you want, girl?" That's racist.

Pick a movie quote?
-How's that working out for you? Being clever?

Date you filled this survey?
-October 27th, 2009.

The State of "Eh" , Chapter 2

Chapter 2 - Richard, Vegas and the Yakuza



Pack up. Not too much, not too little. Don't know what outfits to pack. What kind of trip is this anyway? Pack two bathing suits....stop.. pack FOUR bathing suits. Stop. Feel like I'm acting out a telegram.

Weird trip. Friend offered to pay for vacation time. In Vegas. Never been to Vegas before, so kinda nervous. Never been alone with friend before in close quarters. He says- "you MUST come to Vegas!" Friend has had a crush on me for years. Not secretly.
Is this friendly? I dunno.. Sounds like something else. In need of something else anyway.

"Something else" sounds far better than the new nothingness at home.
"Something else" feels warm, exciting, whimsical. Whimsical has been unattainable for years. Changed it's number. Being rude.


Go to the airport, board the plane, chill out. Seems like a good time to start drinking. Drinking and taking pills. Pop speed. Order vodka. Stop. Order THREE vodkas. Not free?

"Sheesh, I remember the days when my free plane booze came with the freedom to light up a smoke and recline in an uncomfortable half lean. Now, just the half lean. Can I smoke outside?" Flight attendant is only slightly amused.

I'm starting to notice the middle aged gentleman next to me is nudging his arm closer to mine on the armrest. Slowly, about half a centimeter every 20 minutes. I intensely dislike when people move slowly into my personal space.
Men seem to do this a lot. On the subway especially. Look, I know I'M not moving, so it's clearly YOU. If you started off 1 foot away and now you're practically on my lap, I'm going to notice. I'm intensely perceptive.

However, three vodkas and two hours in, I'm in good spirits. Terrible unintentional pun.

I turn and say quietly - "If you want to hold hands, we can just do that now."
He turns, smiles, grabs my hand. Pushes the flight attendant call button and says to me- "We need more drinks."


Let me describe Richard for you.




Richard is 52 (not a guess, he showed me his drivers license).
Richard is happily married with 2 children, Jessica and Brandon. Jessica is 22, Brandon is 18. Great looking kids.
Richard's wife's name is Elie. Elie is 46. Elie is quite stunning.
Richard is about 5' 10", white, very very very very tan and in amazing shape for his age. For ANYONES age really.
This is because Richard works out 4 days a week and enjoys extreme... well.. anything.
Richard is a very attractive man. In a rugged, older Hugh Jackman sort of way.
Richard is pretty well off, we started discussing his job, but that's where things got fuzzy for me.
Richard and I are getting wasted, still holding hands.
Richard wants me to tell him more about myself. Richard looks ecstatic and thoroughly involved.
Richard is a good listener.

I'm not sure exactly WHY I decided to tell Richard the story I told. I think, partially because I felt terribly awful for Elie, Jessica and Brandon. I thought they deserved the truth. Which made Richard not deserve the truth. Not in a malicious way, I suppose in some sort of universal balance. It's not my job to do that, no.... but.. I could.. so I did.

Also, I was drunk... also, I enjoy comedy.


Richard has said- "Why won't you tell me about yourself more?" around 10 times now.

So far, I've told Richard that I'm half Brazilian and half Japanese. Richard likes this combo very much. He says he would have guessed that. He fancies himself "intensely perceptive" as well.
I have also told him, numerous times, that - " I don't really like talking about my life.. it's very painful to rehash all the memories..."

Richard asks me again. I now respond with - "So much DEATH.. SO.... much... Bloo-ah ah ah ahhhhhd" and fall gently onto his shoulder, weeping softly.
Richard coos me, like a child, strokes my hair and says "shhhhh" while rocking me back and forth.
Other passengers are starting to listen.

I have to turn it down a notch.

I slowly draw back from Richard's shoulder, he passes me a napkin, I use it to dab my tears while shaking my head and saying - "I'm so sorry.. sometimes the tears, they flow.. like a river.. like a.. ri--i-ii-i-veeeerrrrrr." I draw out the last letters back into sobs and fall back on his shoulder again.

Fuck a notch.

Richard hits the call button again and is saying that another drink should relax me. He feels awful, he says. This is all he can do right now, he says. He's here to listen, he says. So, so beautiful.. he says.

This is getting good. The free drinks are really a bonus at this point.

I draw back dramatically from his shoulder once more, letting him dab my eyes with a fresh napkin, as mine are being ripped to pieces with my thumbs and index fingers, decorating my lap and the floor around us like children's construction paper snowflake cutout remnants. Only damp, and stained with eyeliner. Deviant goth children's construction paper snowflake cutout remnants.

I flip my hair and gather it to fall on one side, tilting my head down and then up at him longingly.
"Alright.. I trust you.. you can't trust anyone, you know. It's been so long since I had anyone to talk to. You're so good."
I clasp his hand tightly with both of my hands. He swoons and melts down further in his seat, eyes completely open and ready for information. He looks concerned, caring. I feel bad.... for about 5 seconds until the drink arrives.
He squeezes the miniscule lemon wedge into my drink, swizzle sticks it about and hands it to me.

I take a sip... I breathe deeply and exhale. I turn my body to face him...

For the next hour, I tell Richard about my life.

No, I do not kill people.
Yes, I do, deal with the dead a lot.
No, I do not work in a morgue.
Yes, I am what people call, a "cleaner."
No, I do not enjoy my job.
Yes, I am the best in the business.... In the Northeast and several Japanese provinces.
Yes, we still refer to them as "provinces" for the sake of work, staying off the grid.
No, I do not work in South America.
Yes, my line of work is very dangerous and politically frowned upon there.
No, I do not understand why he is shocked by this fact. I thought it was well known. But.. what do I KNOW about the world?

Richard is captivated.

I tell him of my family.... on my father's side.. killed by ninjas as they slept.
I can't believe I'm getting away with this shit... it's fantastically preposterous.

I tell him of my father's Yakuza ties. I pull my hair back and show him my tattoos. He is in awe.
I tell him about my parents forbidden love that almost got them killed, but they overcame the odds.
I tell him about being trained to be a cleaner since I was 5 years old.
I tell him about all the products that scrub out blood stains the best, how to pick out bone fragments from shag carpets, how much I loathe apartments decorated in 1960's and 1970's regalia.

Richard nods a lot.

I am spent....

I say, "I really should stop.. I don't even know you.. you could turn me in as soon as we step off this plane.. oh God.. please.. please don't do that to me..oh God.. what have I done.. what have I said."

Richard grabs my chin gently and says - "Doll.. I just want to take care of you."
I turn away sharply.. "No.. you.. you can't.. It's too dangerous.. I couldn't put you in that position... you.. your family.."

I am truly aghast at my acting skills at this point. I'm almost not even listening to what he's saying because I'm so impressed with myself.

It's going to be time to get off the plane soon. Richard tells me to come with him. He has the high rollers suite at Caesar's.
Now I'M impressed.... ha! Slightly tempted even.. NO! Bad Jean! Bad Jean!

I tell him no.. I'm here to see a friend.. we have some time planned.

He asks - " Are you," he stops.
"Am I what? " I ask him.
He says - "Are you ... umm.. working? While you're here?"

I look down... don't respond. Richard is apologetic - "Oh.. I .. I shouldn't have asked that.. Oh.. I'm sorry." he stammers.

"No, no.. it's alright Richard.. Honestly, I don't know. I don't think so. They'll just call me. I thought this was a vacation, but... I truly don't know. I can't.. I can't involve you."

Richard throws himself back in his seat and stomps his foot on the floor. "Goddamnit!" he says... "This isn't right! This shouldn't be your life! We could.. we could be happy!!!"
"Here" he then says, handing me his business card.. "Just.. please.. if you change your mind.. I know we could.. I just know"

This is fucking incredible.

I place my hand gently over his.. stroke his face and say - "Maybe.. in another life.. maybe"
He grabs my hand.. kisses it and keeps in on his cheek.
We stay like that until it's time to deplane.

"Goodbye" I say, as we step into the airport. I speed walk away. Pretending to cry, I look back. He is just standing there, bags dropped on the ground.

I get outside and see friend, waiting in car in front..

'Holy shit man.. I gotta tell you this fucking story." He is all eager ears and smiles.

Getting in the car I see Richard coming out.. I wave as we're pulling off. He waves back.

I never saw Richard again. Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if I had called.

The State of "Eh" Begins HERE.

Hey y'all.. Sooooo.. I've decided to put together a little collection of (slightly fiction) short stories for you. This is 1 of 20.

The collection is called "The State of 'Eh''
Enjoy the first chapter. Please feel free to leave comments.. You guys never leave comments! What's THAT about?? lol. ok. GO!


The State of EH

Chapter 1- Yogurtgate

I had been happy with the way things were going for awhile. Not ecstatically happy, but then again that's never really been my style. Content, not as moody, drinking less. All this happiness and normalcy was bringing me the fuck down.

I know, sounds weird. I don't happen to think I'm weird, but I've heard that a lot. A LOT. From a lot of different types of people. Some of these people I dearly care for, the other 99% I could really stand to never see or talk to again. I don't think you can judge someone's weirdness by your own level of normalcy.
The point of it all being, that I was unhappy, with being happy.

How then, do you fuck yourself into being pleased with dissatisfaction? Self sabotage came as the answer. I had to self sabotage my own happiness in order to be more morose, which was actually "moreatpeace". This would create a new state of "eh" for me. "Eh" is where I generally feel comfortable resting my feelings and emotions. "Eh" is safe, reliable and free from disappointing expectations. Of others, of myself, of others behavior in public, of MY behavior in public.

I had tried, but, nothing brought me back to the feeling of completion like "whatever" did.

He was great. Too great. Nothing was wrong with this guy. I mean, NOTHING.
He put the cap back on the toothpaste. I never even knew where that thing WAS. I would lose it after the first use and just let the dried toothpaste act as a sealant. I thought this was quite effective, as well as time saving. He thought it was - "grossly negligent and.. just.. just.. why honey?"
Then he would tousle my hair (which I kinda liked) and kiss me on the cheek, saying - "It's ok babe, I'll get another toothpaste. You're adorable."
He did, he kept buying them. I kept a stash of my grody, dried ones under the sink. Until he found them, which resulted in more of the same tousling and kissing.

I think I wanted him to get a little angry. Not that I wanted a FIGHT, I just didn't want to always be in the RIGHT. Poet, don't know it.

We might have had an argument once. He preferred to list it as - "airing our grievances."
I preferred to list it as - "SHOWDOWN MOTHAFUCKA!"

It was about frozen yogurt.

Not the YOGURT itSELF, but the UTENSIL I chose to taste the yogurt with.

It was late in the evening, I was leaning against the kitchen counter and decided to take a taste of the yogurt. I generally don't dig frozen treats in large doses. I can't believe people eat PINTS of ice cream at a time. I've always been envious of movie scenes where chicks are all hugged up on the couch with blankets, in front of TV's, in pajamas, spoon scraping the bottom of their Rocky Road container, to really drive home the "woe is me I've just been dumped" effect.
Never done it.. Can't do it. Would most likely projectile vomit. This might keep the feeling of woe really steady..... I choose bourbon instead.

Back to the yogurt.

I opened the utensil drawer only as much as I had to to stick my hand in a grab A UTENSIL. Any utensil really.. all I wanted was a tiny taste of the damn yogurt.
It ended up being a fork. Had it been a KNIFE, I would have still used it anyway. It can pick up a bite of yogurt, so WHO CARES?

Oh, guess who cares?

I don't think he had noticed it was a fork until I pried the top off and dug in. I forked up the tiniest bite of vanilla, tasted, replaced the top, put it back in the freezer.
I looked up at him to see the most disgusted look in the world. "OMG..what?" I asked. "Are you looking at me like that because I just used a fork? So what?"
It was the look of incredulousness, coupled with the disgust you would see on someone's face while they were forced to watch a puppy get disemboweled.

"Oh my God.. are you really disgusted that I just used a fork? Seriously.... it's not that serious. I just didn't pick a spoon! What's the problem?"

It was very evident that I had thrown off the delicate balance of the universe by using the improper utensil for late night yogurt tasting. He did NOT understand why, how, I could put that fork in that container. It HAD to be done with a spoon.

I was thoroughly disgusted with him being disgusted. I was livid. I yelled for a bit, mocking him and then ended going out to drink with a good friend.

The restaurant we went to had paper lined tables on which I promptly began drawing a visual of how stupid this fight was. I asked the advice of others around us, who also drew small forks, spoons and charts about why in fact, this was ridiculous. I folded them up and put them in my purse. I threw them out a week later, worried that since we were OVER Yogurtgate, he would find them and I would have to go in on this dumb shit yet again.


I never forgot that incident. It made everything seem so stern, so forced into routine and habit, that anything outside of the norm could be considered horrifying. This truly bothered me. I felt like he was seeing my randomness and "eh" as a kind of despicable act at times, only to say it was "inspiring" at others.
I hated feeling like I had to conform, in my own place. Well, his place.. so.. yeah..

Fork, knife, spoon, fucking... CHOPSTICK... what does it matter? As long as it does the job... does it really matter WHAT you're using to get the job done?

I think this was really the first time I had been bothered by the traditional attitude he had sometimes. It didn't comfort me like some of the other things did.. it tossed me into "check yourself" mode......and my friend.. I just can't live like that.

Dream It.

I used to have this dream.

I was me, just regular me, but.... I had this superpower.
Well, It was TWO superpowers. Both of them useless and ineffective in fighting crime, being USEFUL, saving lives...the normal things you would expect from a superpower. They sucked. They sucked more because they were in a DREAM and couldn't even be good. You can do anything in your dreams. Me? Not so much.

I could fly. Just.. not fly in a beneficial way. I had to take a running start and hurl my body upwards. Most of the times I would just end up hitting a wall, or people, or any object in my path. It hurt and it was embarrassing.

After this running start, I could only get about five inches higher than the top of a lamp post. I couldn't fly horizontally either, I was just standing up in the air flailing about, trying to outstretch my arms in the "one arm forward the other arm bent at the elbow with a clutched fist" superhero position. I looked like an idiot.
No one in the streets around me was amazed at my skills. They pointed, laughed, guffawed... All this while I floated above them, kicking my legs like I was treading water.

What a gyp.

My second superpower was equally disappointing, but became more involved.

I could... brace yourself.....................................get down flights of stairs very quickly.

I know... you're jealous.

I would hardly touch the steps, gliding with ease, approaching landings with the speed of a stair cheetah. Yes.... I was good.
I had to use the banister though.. SAFETY FIRST!

I just felt like it wasn't fast enough though... I didn't really have any superpowers to use when I got down to the crime scene. If I could move faster, maybe I could completely defuse the entire felony. I could stop bad things from being bad things before they ever had the chance to BE bad things.

Of course, I needed advice. I told my very good friend Mr. Len about my dream. He immediately (and brilliantly) named me "Step Sister".
How did I not think of that!!???!!

We came to the decision that I could try and up my "Step Sister" abilities by adding a costume. I thought it was a brilliant idea.

So, I put together a costume in my head.

Imagine The Riddlers costume, skin tight and all. Green as well, but I had SS logos in gold, intertwined, VERY designer.

I looked ridiculously hot.

Here's the snafu in the plan... yeah.. umm.. apparently, adding costumes to your stupid super power does nothing but TAKE THE SUPER POWERS AWAY.
Completely gone. Rendered ineffective. Iksnay on the powersay. All of that.

So here I am... hearing cries of distress coming from stories below me. In this stupid costume. With this gold eye mask. Did I mention the mask? It helps to look really stupid when there's a mask. 10 flights of stairs.. took me about 5 minutes. I think I cramped up too. When I get to the bottom, people are injured.. looking at me and crying out - "Why? Where were you??? We NEEDED YOU!!! AGGGHHHH."

Stupid ass costume. I tried to take it out of the dream.. I ended up never having the dream again. I just ruined it for myself. Stupid.


I finally did have my first flying dream though. Up in the clouds flying, superhero "I'm not even TRYING" arms...all back against my side, while I wove effortlessly through the cotton candy landscape. Best part was the soundtrack... everything was silent, except for the wind and Radiohead: "How To Disappear Completely"

If that wasn't the greatest dream I ever had...I don't know what could be. If you can somehow try and get that song into your dream and just fly around for a few hours, your life could better for it. I cried when I woke up. I hope I have that one again. I'm going to shoot for that tonight.

Cocks, Balls and Hangy Pools = PENTHOUSES!

Yet another throwback blog. Some really funny shit from that year. ENJOY!

Wednesday, September 12, 2007

Cock The Balls..oh oops. Rock The Bells
So, last month.. I'm in San Francisco at this party outside. This guy I've known for awhile comes outside, says hello, looks at my outfit and says, "Ohhhh, look at YOoooOOoU!!!! Like, hey!!! I can look good too!!!"

Am I wrong for being offended at this? WTF? You say that to women? WOW.

What the fuck ?
Did I have soot all over me before?
Was it the burlap sack with twine I was wearing prior to you seeing me?
WTF kind of comment is that?

Anyway..

Some short tidbits that have happened as of recent.

I got security escorted out of RTB catering tent for threatening to take the chef down to Chinatown. That's right.. Fight him...
Classsic lines from this episode include:

Me: " What fucking time do you get out of work??? I will take you down!!! I will meet you ....OUTSIDE of the parking lot!!!!"

This is funny because the venue was located in a very large parking lot.
I wanted to tell him to throw down in the parking lot.
I couldnt.

The security for RTB: "You can't fight him."

Me : " Oh I won't fight him in here."

S: " I cant have you fighting him anywhere... not in the streets either."

Me: "Oh, I think I can....You can't tell me what to do outside. This conversation is over. GOOD DAY! I SAID GOOD DAY SIR!!!!!"


Another security guard later : " You know, you and Flava Flav are the only 2 people to get kicked out of catering.But he didn't get security escorted out. "

Security: " I'm gonna need you to leave."
Me: "You're gonna have to bring a lot more heavy motherfuckers to get me the fuck out of here. Fuck! I can't have any fucking chicken? No salad? Well fuck you and your food. Fucking catering chef. Fuck off."


Chef apologizing later.... goes to hug me

Me: " I don't think so. Listen, we're at the point we're I'm shaking your hand and not punching you in the face.. Let's end our relationship here."


another episode:

Vegas (not part of the RTB tour..just in the middle of it)

Me: "But...where's the hangy pool??? I specifically asked for the Fantasy room with the hangy pool!!! Now there's no pool!! What are we supposed to do?? The pole in our room doesnt spin and it's dangerously close to the bed. We can't use that!! Now the outside pool is closed.. There's no hangy pool.. I don't know. We are very dry. Very dry and sad. "

They gave us the penthouse.




Chicago:

E: 'Why am I always tired when I hang out with you? I never sleep!! It's not healthy. It's not right. I think I have grey hairs. I'm so tired.. Ok.. well.. the suns not coming up for another 30 minutes.. That's enough to play more hangman.. I'm so tired."

Also, I ordered a drink at the bar. We spoke to the bartender for awhile. He was sweet, older white guy...wanted to know what the hell we were doing at the rap concert. 5 minutes later, I go to pick up my drink. It has disappeared.

What the??

From in front of me?

There's a cup with ice in it.. but no beverage. Weird.

He pours me another. We walk away. Go watch Wu. 2 minutes later I take a sip. There's nothing in it.

"what the fuck kind of cruel trick cup joke is this???"

Theres a hole in the bottom of the cup... sigh.


I'll tell you guys more stories later.

My life is ridiculously funny.

I'm taking up the accordion. I'm so serious.
I'll post a picture tomorrow.

If Just thinks he can take out my accordion skills.. He's got another think coming.


Also, thanx Kweli, Guru, 9th, Corey.. Sounds great. I'm excited.

Guru.. you are made of magic. Small particles of glued together stardusty magic.


And by the way, next time motherfuckers book an entire rap tour without one female on it..... I'm fucking buying some tools from North Korea. To take you down. To fucking Chinatown. Assholes.