Time Out

I have been sick more often then I have been well this winter, and have once again been beset by a cold/flu/fever/cough/sore throat thing that has kept me in bed for the last few days. I managed to get to work one night this week, but other than that I have been laying in bed half-watching European travel shows and Do It Yourself home design projects on cable TV.

This sheer volume of illness has overwhelmed me and finally led to non-stop weeping for pretty much all of yesterday afternoon. After a while I wasn't even aware of it anymore--it was just a neverending and consistent cascade of tears that accompanied me as I did the dishes, ate my soup, checked my email and half dozed on the couch. Once in a while, a sappy commercial or Animal Planet special would come on (watching a baby rhinocerous and baby elephant become best friends and then get seperated as they are settled into different wild life reserves is NOT a good idea when you are in this state, FYI) and then my emotions would catch up to the waterworks, but the rest of the time it was as if my body was on auto-pilot, liberating me from all of the pent up frustration that being unwell brings.

Today I feel somewhat better physically and much better psychically. Apparently languishing for an entire day is good for the soul.

That said, I begin acupuncture treatments next week. Needles! Scary. Reports to come.

The Bright Side

I was crossing 4th Avenue in Brooklyn a few minutes ago and passed by an ambulance, doors open, man strapped to a gurney inside, cops congregated. One of the officers was clearly trying to contain laughter, which I thought was kind of odd since she had clearly just put an injured person into an ambulance. And that's when I heard it: A strong baritone voice belting out opera. Upon closer inspection, I could see the man strapped to the gurney, head wobbling back and forth, singing his heart out as he lay on the stretcher. Apparently, he was intent on getting his voice heard regardless of the circumstances.

There is nothing like a crazy singing injured person to put life into perspective.

Logic of Youth

Walking through Chelsea Market today I overheard a 10 year old earnestly ask his friends:

"If someone is half Native American and half Chinese, are they orange?"

It's rare that a kid can be vaguely racist and vaguely adorable simultaneously.

Swingin for the Fences

I have known some overly libidinous males in my life, and besides the obvious downsides of emotional immaturity and possible disease, I have also considered these types an unindustrious lot. Well, tonight that all changed:

Tonight riding home on the D train I noticed that someone had scotch taped little flyers to the windows of EVERY door on the train. Upon closer inspection, the handwritten flyers read:


*******
Are you a promiscuous female?
Or a female going through a (promiscuous) spell?
Call
A PROMISCUOUS MALE
(718) XXX-XXXX


Brown skin, light skin, and yellow skin females are the most promiscuous females.
*******

WOW. Both an inventive way to get laid and a social commentary on the promiscuity of the female gender. (Which, according to this description, includes all women of every skin type.) The author of this flyer is apparently a real go-getter as this clearly took some serious thought, intitiative, and elbow grease.

I now must reexamine my prejudicial view of the slothful male playboy. Not to mention that this is real lesson in the American dream. Don't just sit around waiting for what you want, make it happen. By taping flyers to the doors of the D train. What an inspiration! Dare to dream, promiscuous male, dare to dream.