The Games

June 18th, 2010 By Jane | No Comments »

Okay onto something a little less heavy…..The World Cup.

On account of having a Brazilian mother, I root for Brazil. This is the first time I’ve ever closely followed the games. And when I say following, I mean it’s on everyday at my house, and when I’m out I figure out a way to catch the games I need to see.

For instance this past Tuesday Brazil played Korea. I was in the city, so I looked up places that were showing the games, Opia was close by and it appeared to be a nice venue, so I went. I went alone since everyone else I know works, and truly, I have no problem with doing things alone.

Who won? Brazil. I was going to say, of course, but I don’t know..Korea started to fight back at the end.

When I rose to leave this fellow gestured for me to join his table. When I approached he said, “Please meet my friend Bruno, it was just his birthday.” Then he invited me to join them. So I did since Bruno was not unattractive.

But as we sat there and drank our drinks over conversation the man who was supposed to be the connector would not stop chatting with me. I kept trying to speak with Bruno, but it seemed that every time I did, the conversation would be interrupted by the other guy? And some how before we left this other managed to text his phone with my phone, and in doing so, he got my number.

After this incident I became a little bothered by the whole thing since I invested an hour of my life to try to get to know one person, while this other person behaved like a huge road block. So, as I walked to meet with another friend, I texted the road block to send on my contact information to Bruno.

At that I was told that I would get a chance to see him the following Friday. (They invited me to watch another Brazilian game with them.) But next Friday? That is a year from now. (8 days)  Then I specifically asked for his name, by this point this had become a challenge for me. And no he side stepped me again by telling me he won’t let Bruno forget about me. So I gave up.

The following morning Bruno friended me on FB. But didn’t say anything. And by that night I received a text from an unknown number, naturally I thought it was Bruno so I continued to have a 2 hour text conversation with this person. Before the conversation was over I invited this person out to drinks, he called me, and after 10 minutes of speaking with him, I realized that this was not Bruno, this was another guy! No not the road block, another guy I had sort of interviewed for my blog.

I found this out when he asked me what team I was rooting for, since he didn’t know why I would root for Brazil. Now this guy, I like him as well. He’s a cool guy, but goshhhh. What on earth is going on here?

Did the interview guy figure out that I thought he was someone else for the majority of our conversation? No. I’m a pro. After the explosion in my head, I re-grouped, and switched gears. And nooo I’m not that person. This stuff is happening to me.

I guess there isn’t a end result to this post, since I’m so confused about this whole thing? If I haven’t mentioned this ever….Welcome to my life.

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It’s Happening

June 16th, 2010 By Jane | No Comments »

Warning. This isn’t going to be the happiest post.  Am I in any sort of dark mood? No, not at all. I just tend to think about the current human situation a lot.

Yesterday I had dinner at a Paneras. I sat outside so I could watch the sun set. While picking through my Fuji chicken-less salad an older woman (80s) with a younger woman (30s) walked out. The older woman waited by me as the younger woman brought the car around.

When she was waiting she and I talked a little about how being in the sun was a good thing. Then she expressed that she had arthritis, so I suggested her to sit down. At this she responded, “I won’t be able to get back up. It’s hard when your body can’t do what it used to.”

There’s hearing those words, and really hearing those words. I’m pretty sure I really heard them because when she left I started to cry, and now here I am crying again. I get that this is a part of life, but she seemed so defeated, not angry, defeated, that I couldn’t help but be over come with sadness for her, myself, and everyone else……

Now onto Gill. Gill is a 80 something year old gentleman my mother befriended a few years back. His wife passed away last year, and his children are too busy for him, yet he’s okay.  My mother hangs out with him at the gym every week,  they go to lunch, and sometimes we have him over at the house. Since Gill learned that I’m into reading/writing he’s been gifting me books, and sending me New York Times articles that he thinks I should read. The books that he’s given me are all signed copies, and not only this, these authors were his family members and friends. These are valuable to him.

Two weeks ago when he got word that I graduated from college, he sent me a book (With a mysterious picture of a baby and a dog within it’s pictures.) and a wallet. This wasn’t a new wallet in any sense, but I knew there was some story to it, so I called him up to find out. It turns out the wallet belonged to his late wife, that he wanted me to have it, and that I was a looker, but I’m no match to his late wife. There are so many beautiful layers to this, but this is where I’m going to take you, since it’s the idea of this post….The man is giving his possessions away because he wants to be sure that these objects are going to the right people. I’m not saying that he’s going anywhere this week, or next year, but he knows, and he is preparing. There is something sad, yet special about that.

So this is how we’re going to end this. There is no way to get away from the inevitable, and to think on it constantly will drive anyone mad, but it’s not something you should forget. When you forget you start to live life like it will never end. Please don’t do that, please do everything you’ve ever dreamed of, or at least try to do it, and maybe you won’t seem or feel defeated at that time of old. Maybe you’ll be ready like Gill. He’s old, but according to his stories, he’s lived a great life.

Who would you rather be?

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Powerhouse, Chapter 1 Section 3

June 13th, 2010 By Letty | No Comments »

Peter and Max met about three years prior to tonight’s festivities. Peter was shooting pool at one of his upper Eastside hangouts, not to be confused with one of his upper Westside hangouts. Peter was confidently cleaning the one pool table in the small bar of all its remaining striped balls. When suddenly this big, burly, blonde guy leans out from the row of red barstools and snaps a picture of him. As Peter watched the fourteen ball miss its mark, he could feel the pressure building up in his body– and this was no small body. Peter stood a solid six feet three inches tall and kept himself at a strict two hundred and ten pounds.

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