GOODBYE!!!

Do people ever remember the exact day a relationship ends? Maybe women do. Do women sit around discussing the precise moment they knew things with someone had gone past the point of no return? The exact second when you knew your love for a person wasn’t enough for you to put up with anything else and that it was time to move on? I had that moment today. I knew the relationship was over before today, but I wanted it not to be so. I know walking away is the healthiest thing for both of us, but still... I assume it is natural to blame oneself for things not working out. Hundreds of scenarios run through my mind of how I could’ve, no should’ve done things differently. I question my actions in certain moments and analyze my lack of reaction in others. Then of course you start to dwell on the memories, especially the ones that caused your feelings to grow in the first place. Then again, that might be a man thing. Running across old photos and forgotten videos doesn’t help instill a sense of peace with the decision either. As of today, July 29, 2012, I am officially not a dog owner any longer. Chewy belongs to someone else. It doesn’t seem real even reading it on the screen. Chewy is not mine...

Chewy and I were like peanut butter and jelly, Kool-Aid and sugar or even like Santa and the elves! We just went together and no one even attempted to question the pairing. Ok, they did but eventually just came to accept it. But the elves never pissed in Santa’s bed in any Christmas story I ever read. I love Chewy immensely, but the amount of times he pissed on my bed and/or sofa finally took its toll. Actually, that’s not the case, I was ready to figure out a solution to the problem, but when Chewy started pissing AND shitting in on my roommate’s bed there was no way he could stay. Can’t expect someone to like him let alone love him when he shits not once, but TWICE in your bed. If that ain’t some ruin your day type of happenings people! Can you imagine coming home from a long day, coming into your room to relax, about to lay down on your all white sheets, blankets and bed spread and seeing a pile of brown smelly dog shit right in the middle of your bed. If that ain’t a big “FUCK YOU BUDDY!” from Chewy I don’t know what is. And the truly sadistic thing about it, I know Chewy liked him! That’s what’s so confusing about the entire thing. You all can debate why he did it; I was only concerned with not getting thrown out of my new apartment and saving Chewy’s life. My roommate was ready to literally kill Chewy, commit caninocide! In the end, I guess I could say it was a matter of life and death. My life living in this apartment and Chewy’s death at the hands of an irate Portuguese Veterinarian student.. I kid you not, Chewy pissed and crapped on a Vet’s bed. The irony in that is not lost on me at all.

So, now Chewy has a new home. He knows the person and they did backflips when I first mentioned the possibility of them having Chewy. I know he’ll be loved and well taken care of and far enough away from the Vet so no unexplained accidents befall him. I know it was for the best and he’ll be happy. I can see him whenever I want and he doesn’t live so far away from me. There is no going back on the decision now, but still... I really miss the little hairy midget right now.

CHOPPING BLOCK

If you read my blog with any regularity you know I have a dog, a small dog, but a dog nonetheless who goes by the name of Chewy. I’ve written about Chewy a few times on here so one could safely assume I love Chewy. Only because I love Chewy can I say the next statement and feel it’s no contradiction at all. I hate Chewy. No, I really hate him. The hate is not a constant thing, it comes and goes and varies in its intensity. Why or even how I could even hate such a creature who is so cute he makes Turkish gangsters melt into blubbering idiots cooing “So sweet!” must be on the forefront of your minds. Very simply, pee. That’s why I hate Chewy, pee. Chewy pees in places that are totally unacceptable, namely my sofa and my bed. For those people who don’t have a dog or cat, animal pee is not normal! They use it to do things human don’t, like mark their territory. Because of that it is ridiculously strong smelling and doesn’t wash out like juice or pasta sauce. I don’t care what anyone says, if you go to lay your head down in your bed and you make a splash… literally a splash in a puddle of pee you’d start to feel some negativity. Then while you’re washing your pillow cases, sheets, comforter and airing out your mattress you have to sleep on the sofa. Sleeping on the sofa in your own place when you have no visitors cause your dog has confused your bed with a tree??? Madness. Then, THEN, the little fucker peed on the sofa where I was meant to sleep! I’m a grown ass man who pays rent in his own apartment, sleeping on the floor ain’t cute or fun on any level! Can you see why the dark clouds are gathering?? Thing is, as angry as I was at him, there was this part of my brain that still registered he’s still a dog and wouldn’t understand my ranting. So I stomped around my apartment fighting the urge to yell at the furry non-English speaker and just made a “Fpffffffffff!!!!” sound. Guess it was an internal compromise between, “You lil muthafucca!! Are you muthafuccin retarded peein on my muthafuccin sofa AND bed?? MY muthafuccin bed and sofa??MY muthafuccin bed and sofa??? You KNOW yo muthafuccin ass is muthafuccin’ blessed, BLESSED you ain’t a muthafuccin human or I’d WHOOP yo muthafuccin natural born azz like you cursed out my momma!!” and complete silence which might’ve given me an aneurism. And Chewy knows what he’s doing is wrong cause as SOON as I am about to lay down in the pee he runs and hides. Bastard! What compounds this situation is I am currently looking to move into a new apartment. My brother wants to move to Berlin later this year so I need a bigger place for the both of us. I love Chewy and I have difficulty not ringing his neck when he pees on my things. My brother on the other hand has not had sufficient time to develop a bond with the dog. I’m thinking of Chewy’s life here people! I can already see the first time Chewy pees on my brother’s bed and not even Jesus would be able to save that dog’s life.

I needed a break from Chewy so I could think. The person who gave him to me was nice enough to take him so I could calm down and figure out my next move. All options are on the table, even giving Chewy away. This isn’t a new problem I’ve had with Chewy. Chewy has been gone for about a week. Was getting updates from this friend every day that he hadn’t peed, everything was OK… until yesterday. Chewy has struck again! He peed on something in her place AND her momma house! Damn Chewy! Her diagnosis is that Chewy has too much testosterone which makes him too alpha and contributes to him being so thin, her recommendation, neuter him. Cut his balls off!?!? I mean, I admit nothing has worked so far, but cutting his balls off seems a little drastic! Then again, I might be saving his life in the long run. My brother could crush 10 Chewys in one hand!! Maaaaaaaaaaaaaaaan…

So, me being me I needed to do some research, from what I’ve read dogs who are neutered live longer, are healthier and have a better overall quality of life than dogs who aren’t neutered. You know what the first thing is I thought? How many dogs did they interview 10 years after they had their balls cut off to come to that consensus?? Seriously, how do they define better quality of life? And if it does lead to a better quality of life, why hasn’t the medical community started recommending it for men!? I have never once in my life read in any men’s magazine that cutting off your balls is an option a man should ever consider. We should do some surveys and polls. If you are reading this blog, go and ask all the men you know if they would willingly chop off their balls if it was proven they would live longer and have a “better quality of life”. I can tell you RIGHT now I wouldn’t ever, ever, ever, ever, EVER consider being separated from my balls for one minute even if I was GUARANTEED and extra 20 years on my life. I am a firm believer that it’s not about how long your life is, but what you are doing with your life while you are alive. And it’s the whole balance thing, is it really a justified action to cut off a dog’s balls who pees on a bed and sofa?? Maybe I should just start peeing on his little doggy bed or something so he sees how it feels. I could like drink some garlic and asparagus tea all day to try and get my pee smelling as close to revolting as his does. That might change his outlook if he had to sleep in a pissy bed. Then I started thinking even more, when would cutting off balls EVER be a justified option when it’s not medically needed? It’s well documented that I used to be a cheater, I’m not proud of that; only stating a fact. But what if an ex-girlfriend decided to “correct” the problem and had my balls cut off!?!? The horror!! Now, would that action be an equal reaction to cheating.. I’m sure a lot of woman would agree it is! Luckily my ex just broke up with me and left me to learn my lesson in a different way. But, what if that is how cheaters were dealt with?? You know some cultures will split a woman’s nose so it looks like a vagina if she is caught cheating? While as bad as that is, it’s not nearly as bad as being stoned to death in other cultures. But no culture really deals with men who cheat. I am no expert, but if I had known 15 years ago that my balls would be cut off if I cheated on my girlfriend, no WAY it would’ve ever happened. No way in a MILLION years. Maybe I can use this with Chewy! Is there anyway I can express to him the possible consequences of him losing his balls if he continues on this course of action?? He is hella smart after all. ..

I don’t know what to do to stop him from peeing on my bed or sofa, but I do know that I’m not ready to choose him losing his balls as the solution to this problem… yet.

VALENTINE’S DAY RAMBLINGS

I wrote this yesterday, but I am in the mist of a long spell of my internet not working so only got to an internet cafe today to post it.

Have you ever wondered where unrequited love goes? Love is energy and energy can’t be created or destroyed, or so I’m told. How unfortunate the same does not apply to fears and dreams… fears can’t be created and dreams can’t be destroyed. Oh well… If love given by one is not accepted by another, where does it go then? Maybe wind is a byproduct of this refusal. I mean, how is wind created anyway? I must’ve missed that episode of the Discovery Channel. But why couldn’t wind in all its forms be unrequited love? The strong gales with the power to uproot huge Oak trees might originate from the anguished wails of a million spurned lovers raising their voices in a crescendo of cries in unison. Or the steady gusts that fill the sails of boats could possibly be a thousand broken hearted people chanting, “But I love them so much!” over and over in a perpetual rhythm that propels those ships to their holiday destinations. And those light breezes on Indian Summer days that make kites dance in the air and send brown leaves on acrobatic tumbles down streets perhaps are the long final sighs of hundreds whose head has finally convinced their heart to give up hope. That sudden draft which causes a shiver to run along your spine and recall old wives’ tales is only the small escape of air from the lips of a single forgotten lover who is trying to suppress their wretched sobs for the umpteenth time. Then again, it’s entirely possible that earthquakes are the end result. All that pounding of pillows in sorrow might be felt more acutely along fault lines triggering a seismic reaction.

On the other hand, I could be looking at this all wrong. Maybe love begets love. It is highly likely that the love someone rejects finds its way to the souls of small children and puppies and that’s why it is so easy for them to love unconditionally. It could even attach itself to the hands of grandmothers and that is the secret ingredient we can never duplicate in their special recipes. Now that I think about it, does unrequited love even exist? Love doesn’t shatter when the door is closed in your face and it surely doesn’t whither between the pages of a returned unread love letter. Love, in its purest form is never any less beautiful when it misses its intended mark. I guess some of us have to wait a little longer than others to see the results of where it’s landed… or we get pets.

OBSERVATIONS OF NYC AND KC

Wow, it’s been what? Almost 2 years since I wrote observations about anything! I was focused on other things and needed to work something out first. Told people I’d get back to writing about “light” things when I felt light. With that, I was in Kansas City, Missouri for a business trip and had the opportunity to stop in New York City for a few days. I observed some interesting things while I was there…

1. I don’t need to expound on how heterosexual I am to preface this first observation… Ok, maybe a little. I’m extremely heterosexual and am attracted to women on every level and will never get enough of them. Now that I’ve introduced this observation with a healthy dose of my male insecurity, there are way more attractive men in NYC these days than attractive women. There, I said it! I feel the overall level of attractiveness of men in the big apple exceeds that of the women. Don’t get me wrong now, I saw some HOT women in the city. Just not as many as I used to see. I remember walking around with my head on a swivel afraid I’d miss a great pair of legs or a gorgeous face, not this time. I found myself passing couples thinking far too often, “Wonder what blackmail material she has on him!?” Huge disparity between levels of looks tipped in favor of men. Now, if that has anything to do with NY women saying they’ve seen a significant increase in the amount of gay men residing in the city I don’t know.

2. Asians. I saw waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay more Asians in NYC than ever before. Let me narrow this down cause Asian is a broad term. I specifically mean Chinese, Korean and less so Japanese. Not saying it’s good or bad, just what I saw. Another thing I noticed with Asians? Ass! When did Asian women living in NY start getting curves?? Seriously people. It was unprecedented the number of Chinese and Korean women I saw filling out the backs of their jeans. I haven’t seen a shift in ass like this since the Great Fill-out of the early 90’s when white women started growing asses. Really! Check the ass history books to see for yourself! Ass history books you ask? Well Playboy and Penthouse of course. Playboy models from the 80’s look like someone took a bread roller to the behind of all the white women in the pages of the magazine. Can’t even call it ass, just an extension of the back. Wasn’t Photoshop either, white women literally had no ass pre 1990. Then all of a sudden, the ass god bestowed his blessing… sporadically obviously. The TV show In Living Color becomes a hit and the Fly Girls with Jennifer Lopez are on mainstream TV, the song Baby Got Back by Sir Mix-A-lot tops the charts and in the next 10 years a transformation of an entire race of peopleI Well, that has happened to Asian women also apparently and it’s a beautiful thing. Will we have to start saying ASSians!?!

3. Mexicans are taking OVER in NYC! What happened to the Puerto Ricans and Dominicans living in New York?? The number of Mexican restaurants has grown exponentially in the city. There are even gourmet Mexican food carts. GOURMET Mexican food carts?? Ya slippin Puerto Ricans. I saw not ONE Puerto Rican restaurant or shop while I was there. Mexican people have gotten their hustle ON! I ain’t hatin, just wondering where ya at Dominicanos?? Another reason I know Mexicans are doing their thing? I walked past hella shops in Chinatown and you know what I saw? Chinese people dummy! BUT! In the backrooms and workshops, I saw Mexican people!! Now you KNOW Mexicans are hard workers when the Chinese trust outsiders to work in their businesses. Wait a minute! This might explain the influx of Asian people I saw on the street! More leisure time if you have Mexicans doing the manual labor. I think they call that correlation.

4. I also observed how Berlin has spoiled me on the price of things. NINE dollars for a beer in NY? Not imported beer, not a BIG beer like they sell in Berlin that’s the size of your arm, but a normal bottled beer that is available at any 7-11 stores in the entire country, $9. Madness. Don’t even get me started on the $15 cocktails either. Even when you account for the exchange of currency those are still some expensive ass drinks! People gotta take out a loan for a night out in the city. I am not used to going out for breakfast and paying over $20+ for some scrambled eggs, toast, pita bread, humus and a SMALL orange juice. In Berlin, that same amount will get me a brunch BUFFET at an upscale Russian restaurant, large FRESH squeezed OJ and enough change to catch a Sunday matinee at the movie theatre ya heard!

5. Another thing Berlin has spoiled me with? Travel time. There are entirely too many people living in New Jersey trying to convince people they live “just outside the city” when they refer to New York. If it takes you an hour DRIVE to get into the city, then it’s not close, simple as that people. Driving an hour to anyplace is NOT close, unless you live in small town Kansas and the next closest thing is 2 hours away. I forget how cheap Berlin is so it’s UNHEARD of for even the poorest of students or welfare cases to live outside of Berlin. You just live in a cheaper neighborhood but you don’t live an hour away! Crazy how Jersey folks make that drive paying $12 dollars for tolls, EACH way just to go out in the city for drinks which are expensive as hell too! Commuting for work? I get it. Commuting for fun? I don’t get it. In Berlin, I think of ways of cancelling plans with friends if it ain’t in my hood cause there’s so damn much to do within a 10 minute walk! It is not fun gettin your drink on then having to get in a car for an hour drive back to your house. Not fun at all.

6. Ok, this is a Kansas City observation, but sadly I know this is really a USA observation. They had a breakfast buffet at the hotel I was at for my seminar. The buffet was true American style with the amount of food available for people to eat. One thing that stood out were the scrambled eggs. The normal scrambled eggs in Kansas City had cheese and sausage already mixed in them. You had to get a “special” order if you wanted scrambled eggs only with eggs… So, the everyday, normal, run of the mill, typical, what we put out in the buffet as a de facto are eggs with cheese and sausage already in them?? THEN, they had a HUGE tub full of sausage AND bacon right next to the eggs. People were getting the “normal” eggs then loading their plates up with sausage AND bacon. Throw in the pancakes and assorted pastries; you can imagine how sluggish one might feel after eating a breakfast like that. I know that is not a KC thing in the least, just been so long since I’ve been exposed to it. During our breaks at the seminar? More pastries and CAKE! Pastries are already sweet and you bring out cake at 10am?? Then, lunch was a parade of meat heavy food. I observed Americans love to put meat in things that shouldn’t even have meat in it. Salad in the United States has meat in it. Every salad I saw in the US had chopped up ham thrown in it. Of course there was cake for dessert at lunch also. Add the dinners which were the same as the lunches and one can see how a person can get fat in ooooh, 18 hours in America. I had to “cheat” on my American diet by eating fruit for the breaks and skipping the cakes at lunch. Surprised I didn’t see someone drop dead from a heart attack at every meal.

7. I’ll call this last observation God Bless America. There are some things, small things, but things none-the-less that made me miss living in the states acutely. Customer Service. I know, I KNOW I harp on this constantly but I don’t realize how much I miss it until I get back to the states. Having the waitress smile and coming by my table from time to time to see if I need anything shouldn’t make me almost shed a tear! It did because you feel like you are a plane survivor crash landed in the artic when you are at a table in Berlin. The staff apologizing and offering suggestions on how they can make it up to you when they made a mistake??? WTF?? Making sure everything is OK if you didn’t finish your meal or drink?? LOVE IT!! I’m importing that to Berlin! I went into this store called Petsmart in NYC looking for something specific for Chewy. They didn’t have it, no big deal to me. But it was a big deal to them! They apologized, and then offered to send me an email letting me know it was in stock and ship it for free when they specially ordered it. Explained I live in Berlin so they offered to find a store in Berlin who might sell it and email me the locations and price…. Are you fuckin kidding me!?!? Now if that ain’t the complete opposite of what I would’ve got in Berlin I don’t know what is! First I would’ve needed to FIND someone in the store to speak to. When I asked about the particular product they would’ve looked at me like I was retarded for asking since it should be obvious if I didn’t find it, then they don’t have it. The store offering to order it especially for me and contacting me when it was in?? MAYBE if I had a loaded gun and placed them under EXTREME duress they might have. Even that is debatable. Then, flirting… I just had a moment right there. I literally sat at my desk with a goofy smile on my face reminiscing what it’s like to flirt. Flirting doesn’t always mean a person wants to have sex with you German people! It also made me realize how German I’ve become! Women were smiling at me in the states and my FIRST thought was, “What that bitch grinnin’ at?” Crazy but it’s true! After a few days I got back into it and I was smiling back too! It’s so easy and so nice! I’m importing that also to Berlin. Last thing, being able to use your credit card EVERY WHERE. Did you know non Germans there are places in Germany, not in the village, but in the MAJOR cities that don’t allow you to pay with credit cards?? Hell, forget credit cards, some are still cash only. CASH ONLY!?!? That means you are going to a restaurant and you are on a date. You don’t remember to get cash before you go and you are sitting there looking stuuuuuuupid. Or, you want to buy a new washer or dryer at the German version of Best Buy? You better have enough money in your checking account cause no credit cards accepted! Madness! But, that then makes me wonder, why in the hell are we still using checks in the states??? Save paper and get rid of those things! Everyplace takes credit or debit cards anyway! Know I saw a hooker in Brooklyn with a credit card reader hangin out of her purse!

LOVE LOVES ME

Life is full of unexpected sparks of realization and fleeting moments of clarity. These precious instances are not always manifestations of our own doing. The catalyst for these special moments can be inspired by another. Three simple words someone uttered sent me down a completely unexplored path, “Love loves you”. I asked them to repeat it because I thought I misunderstood. Love loves me? My family loves me; my dog loves me, close friends even, but love? Is Love even capable of altering its form and make the transition from verb to noun? Love, the answer to so many prayers of hope, yet its unseen except for the effects of its presence or aftermath of its absence. Love loves me. I started playing around with the thought, examining it from every angle to better understand. I got up close and then backed away again to get an overall picture. Still wasn’t sold on the authenticity of the statement. Then I decided to try a different tact, I stopped thinking and analyzing which I do far too much and I decided to see how the words felt. Truthfully, they felt so right.

For years I’d played a perverted game of Hide and Seek with love. I always hid and refused to come out even when Love’s pleas became desperate for me to return. Yet, love never tired of me and would join in all my twisted ego games enthusiastically. When I walked out the door and would leave for months, sometimes even years, Love always greeted me with no hesitation in a full welcoming embrace. No matter how callously I treated Love, no matter how many times I cursed it, swore I was through with it and accused it of being unfair Love always sought me out. When I was ashamed to be seen in public with Love and claim it was my own and acted as if I’d forgotten its name, Love always waited patiently without malice to accept and comfort me. Now I understand Love will always love me no matter my transgressions, however it doesn’t make it right to mistreat or disrespect it. Knowing what I now know about Love, it makes it less terrifying to say goodbye. When Love loves you there is never a final goodbye only a series of expected hellos. Yes, Love surely loves me and I’m certain Love loves all of you too, no matter the circumstances.

CLASSIFICATION

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INVITATION

How does one define love? Is it even possible? Is it truly something that can be characterized by words searchable in Google or Wikipedia? Is it even something that can be expressed in words? Love could very well be a sound. Now which sound is what I am not certain of, would it be the beating of two hearts in unison written about so eloquently in poetry? Maybe it’s the sobs of separation at an airport for loved ones or even the lightness that spreads in her voice when she realizes it’s you on the phone; maybe it’s the nervous tap dance of shoe soles on hardwood floors waiting for her to walk through the front door. Seriously, what if love is only truly definable by taste? Chocolate could literally be the taste of love for all we know. It could also be the tangy bitter flavor of the skin of your lover after hours of intense…conversations. We have no idea how love was defined thousands of years ago before language was invented. The more I learn, the less I feel I know about love. What I am certain of is every notion of love I once held is slowly crumbling around me like sandcastles at the beach in late afternoon. Is it possible to love when you are unsure of how to explain it? I don’t know. I say I love, yet I’m told actions speak louder than words. Ok, my actions, but if the person tells you not to act, does that mean my inaction is now indifference and thus no longer love?

I asked someone to explain love, she couldn’t at first. Later in the day she sent me this text, “Love is what grows between two people, and their exchange feeds it. To have strong feelings for someone is your invitation to that one to love.” And English isn’t even her first language… So it made me think. Forget about another person, have I ever “invited” myself to love? Honestly, there are countless books written about self-love. I’ve read a total of ZERO in my life. I love myself.. I think. Or I thought I did up until last week. I wonder if love is something we cannot truly describe until we meet that person that helps us create the very definition. Then, it might be that our idea of love changes as we grow into the person who is capable of living the definition we set. I really don’t know.

I do know that there are certain expectations we associate and attach to the word love. You say you love someone, and they will judge your actions on a much higher level. If so, then I have not loved myself in a long time. I eat like a 12 year old orphan, luckily I’m blessed with über genetics that allows me to not look like my diet. I have partially healed injuries that even affect the very breaths I take. If one of my friends was “loved” by their significant other how I have loved myself through the years I’d implore them to end the relationship. “He’s taking you for granted” I’d say, “His treatment of you borders on abuse at times” I’d lament, “He hardly listens to what you are saying and now he’s not even having sex with you!” Sounds like I need to break-up with myself. But that’s not something you can really do, unless you die and I’m not into such an extreme measure.

It is highly likely no universally accepted definition will ever exist for love, when I think about it that may be a good thing. If there is no blanket catch-all statement for love, then that means each and every one of us can set our own standards and ideals. My definition is going to have to include something on eating healthier, rehabilitating old injuries and learning to increase the volume of my inner voice. I think I’m extending an invitation to get to a place where I love me more than I do at this moment.

In case you are wondering, for me, love is a collection of words that depend on each other to create the meaning you want them to be. If you take one of those words away, then you stop having love and only a random collection of meaningless words, trust, honesty, respect, loyalty, compassion, comfort, understanding, strength, courage, hope, faith and commitment. But just in case they are only words, I’m going to have a piece of chocolate to double check…

Day.. No idea and it’s not important anymore because I’m constantly learning and growing.