Wednesday, November 28, 2012

Untitled - Part 2: Rebirth of Slick

I was born on Tuesday, November 27, 2012 at 5:08 in the morning. Unlike my first birth, I remember everything. Much like my first birth, I entered with little to no fanfare. I was born in the same room I died in. Those same sky blue walls and one bright ass white light. The doctor, or whatever he was, gave me clothes and sent me on my way. Instinct directed me to what I'll call home for now. On the bus ride there, everything looked familiar, but different at the same time. I got off the bus and walked the six blocks to my house. It was an eerie feeling. The streets were empty and cold. As I arrived at the house, I reached in and grabbed my keys, opened the door and walked up the stairs. Dropped my coat off and walked up another flight of stairs where I entered an empty room. This room was much like the one I was born in, except the walls were tan and there was a computer and radio to go with the television. Hope there's some paper too. I have a lot of stuff to relearn.

Tuesday, November 27, 2012

Untitled - Part 1: Death Becomes Me

I was born on Sunday, May 28, 1978 at 6:58 in the morning at a hospital in Brooklyn, New York that doesn't even exist anymore. Confirming my black sheep status from the start, my family's Memorial Day cookout was cancelled on account of me. My mother tells me that I weighed in at a whopping 10 pounds and 8 ounces. I died on November 26, 2012 at approximately 10:13pm. It was a quiet death, in a simple room. Four corners, sky blue walls; not the sky blue that makes you think of spring, more of a dull sky blue. There was a bed (for lack of a better term)and a television, even a night stand, although there was no alarm clock on it. Guess I didn't need an alarm to go off as this would be my final resting place. I don't know what I did to get into this position, and don't remember how it happened. The last thing I do remember, is the mask going over my face. After that, everything went black.

TMI Tuesday - November 27, 2012: Famous Or Forgotten

1. Have you ever had sex with someone famous or who later became famous, if only locally?
Nope. Haven't had the pleasure yet. The best I could do is someone who currently works for the CIA, but if she does her job right, nobody will ever know her name. There's another one who might write a book one day and become a motivational speaker. She might be my best hope right now.

2. In the spirit of Six Degrees of Separation, have you had sex with someone who had sex with someone who had sex with someone who . . . someone famous?
Not that I know of, but you never know.

3. In the opposite direction, have you had sex with someone whose name you didn’t know?
Nope. I'm anal in that regard. I keep a list.

4. Someone whose name you knew then but have forgotten?
See previous answer

5. Someone who you suspect may have forgotten you?
Sadly, yes. Off the top of my head, I can think of 3 who might have forgotten me.
Bonus question: Someone you wish you could forget?
No. They are each part of my past and for at least one moment, they brought some joy into my life.

Thursday, November 1, 2012

The Storm Is Over

It's been called everything from "The Perfect Storm", to "The Storm of the Century", to even "Frankenstorm". Regardless of what you call it, Hurricane Sandy will be one that we will talk about for years to come. We all have our stories of survival; some of us lost power, some had property damage, others even lost loved ones. I was fortunate enough to be spared those experiences, but have enough people in my life who weren't that it's almost as if I've experienced them myself. I braved the storm and actually went to work on Monday and Wednesday. Although I didn't go to work on Tuesday (office was closed), I braved the storm to walk to friends and relatives houses to check on them and make sure they were ok. Now that the storm is over and I can start to reflect on it, I am thankful that New York City didn't get a direct hit (could barely handle the hit it did get), I appreciate hearing from friends I don't speak to on a regular basis who just wanted to make sure I'm ok and I am fortunate enough to have another chance to live out life and do the things I've always wanted to do. Adversity sometimes brings humility and motivation and, in my case, with Sandy, it certainly did.