A message to Sarah Palin

Please SARAH

1927-2008

He's dead. He's my grandfather and he's dead. There's no point to talk about his life, he did it all. The good, the bad and the ugly. And now he's gone. But it doesn't end here. How horrendous can death get? Once you get that phone call, do you think you can sit and grieve? what about the paperwork? the cemetary plot? the church? the body? What do you do with the body? It's at home, you can smell the stench, you need to move it to the morgue waiting for the family to proceed with the funeral. He's dead. He's a body. Nothing more. When you forget about your own grievance and torment what stays is a mere carcass. That person that you had your own opinion about, that you interacted with is now an insignificant entity. You need to dress it, move it, parade it and bury it never to see it again. It's final, you erase that little incident and then you just keep the good memories, because then again what's the point in remembering the bad and the ugly?

Dazed and Confused

-Ce type de roucoulements, c’est prénuptial ou postcoïtal ?
-Et ta connerie ? Elle est congénitale ?

-Le Fabuleux Destin D'Amelie Poulain

Pandora's box

When memories resurface.

Saturday, November 11, 2006

It's been a good week. I thought I should put that in writing to remember. It seems that I will finally settle down without having to settle for less. It's been a long and hard road with a stressful 500 sth days. I love it!

posted by overandout at 6:13 AM

I've blocked it out for too long. My past life. Abroad. And here it comes back as I go through previous posts.

Thursday November 9, 2006, her heart skipped a beat when she read the email she had received from NYU Medical School for an interview. Here it was. Her plan unfolds. She remembers coming back from the Shake Shack that day on Madison Ave and 23rd street. The burgers were amazing, the milk shakes even better and the setting ah the setting! Madison Square Park. Yes New York is everything they tell you and even more! But She felt the tension. It was coming from her. She was unsure of her future. He tried to calm her down. They lived a carefree life. But when push came to shove... And then she went back home, with him. And as she was checking her email here it was.

Dear Applicant:

At the request of the Committee on Admissions, we are pleased to invite you to interview at the New York University School of Medicine. You may interview on a date between Monday, November 13, 2006 and Friday, December 1, 2006.

She was lucky to get an interview so early on! It was a shoe-in.
And then what? She kept adding mistake over the other. She wouldn't stop. Last she remembers was her going down Madison Avenue seven months later, walking past the Shake Shack, a one way ticket in her hand.

And she seems to be waiting for that day where she will look back and see why fate decided so.

Bittersweet October

Now that I think of it, I used to defrost frozen bloody worms in my microwave to feed my fish.
Since then, the fish has died. I replaced him without telling my significant other. And eventually we broke up.
I loved that fish. Yes they say a fish has a memory of a few minutes but that never stopped me from believing that he was greeting me everytime I came in through the door and that he was doing a special dance everytime I came close with worms or dry flaked food.
He was a fighting fish. Oh so appropriate to his rightful owner.
He died while I was changing his water. Some say I killed him.
And yes I did replace him, I did go from petco to petco to find the exact same look-alike and cover the crime. The one in Union Square with the cats up for adoption and the horrible smell of pet food, the one next to NYU Medical Center on my way to work on 2nd Avenue and 34th street. The one somewhere on the upper east side. My memory is starting to fail me. But I miss every bit of it. all of it.
The second fish was just as entertaining. Even more aggressive. More of a fighter. But he died too. He stood still in his plant for two days before I noticed.
No, I do love pets. I've always wanted to adopt a dog or a cat. I was going through the procedures had I stayed in New York. It's all a blur now. A defense mechanism established by my subconscious. And I let go.
It's all so bittersweet. And it's over. I had to leave. And I just wish I had someone to blame for this...

Maybe you are. Maybe you're not. But you might as well for how much I already hate you for it.

Summer Nights

It was August 21st, they were sipping on their drinks in Pacifico. There was noise around them but she didn't care. She didn't know why but there she was, with him again, hanging on his every word.
He: Are you going to miss me?
She: (with a faint laughter) I don't know. If I do I will let you know.
She was being honest. How was she to know then and there what she might feel once he's gone? He wasn't as honest. But then again he never was.
And so he said: I will miss you. Believe it or not I will miss you.
She: I believe it.
She lied. She didn't believe it. Not because she didn't trust him, which she didn't. But because you don't expect to miss someone. You just do.
And so here I am today, I miss you.

and then what?

I always said someday you wouldn't know what to do.

not when you die...

sooner