Friday, March 26, 2010


If you post one more picture collection of one more Central American or European vacation you go on I'm gonna scream. You in your shorts and tan legs! Wearing the same red shirt everyday, not taking showers, letting your beard grow because your just traveling the world without a care in the world- you make me sick. Some of us have to work!

It's always been your dream to travel and you're doing it and that's wonderful. I guess when we were dating I should have focused less on The Huffington Post and more on Orbitz or wherever the hell you book your flights to Panama or wherever it is you go.

Does it change you? Does it change the way you see me? I mean, has your perception changed? Can you still relate to me?

If we go out to coffee some dreary Chicago night will you be unable to relate to me because you've zip-lined through the rainforest and shared a meal with a native tribe?

Maybe it changes me. I don't know just don't send me anymore pictures of your drunken escapades in other countries.

You don't have to go to Paris to write about Paris. Someone said that. Maybe I did.

I can rent the Travel video from the library and be perfectly happy. This isn't The Amazing Race. You won't get any prizes from me for how fast you make it around the world.

Sunday, March 14, 2010


I normally don't like parties. There is a quote from the movie Temple Grandin about how she feels about parties- something like "I hate parties- everyone is standing around giving me looks and I don't know what they mean." I can definitely relate to that. I have great difficulty if I sense that someone is being disingenuous. I have figured out that is part of the party game. And it's not bad. You put on your best face. Even a semi-fake face, to get to know people, put people at ease. That is very hard for me to do. A party is not the time to bring your normal self, the self with all the baggage.

Generally, I feel more comfortable in a costume. I dressed up as Julia Child for the Oscar party. I became aware that people saw me as Julia Child not Jeremy. Obviously, people knew I wasn't the real Julia Child. But when they looked at me- they didn't think- "Who is that guy?" If even remotely, they had some way to categorize me in their head. I let the costume do the talking for me.

Socializing in large groups exhausts me. Temple Grandin's mother tried to get her to socialize, even though it exhausted her too, threw her into panic attacks. I am exactly the same way. Her mother wouldn't let her leave parties though. She would bring her into a room and let her calm down and then she would be ok to carry on. I realize that this has worked for me too and I just haven't realized it.

I need a panic room for a party. A room I can go to depressurize.

Friday, March 12, 2010

God Bless The Outcasts

Today I did not go to McDonalds. I just wanted to eat without homeless people around. As terrible as that sounds, it's the god's honest truth and I would say it to their face. It's not about them, it's about me.

Yesterday I did go to McDonalds. As I ate my McChicken I looked around and seventy five percent of the patrons were homeless. One woman sat snoring with the remnants of a Value Meal strewn before her. Another sat on what must have been her coffee break from roaming the streets, large bags full of plastic bags at her feet.

Today I decided to go to Jimmy Johns. While I stood outside having my pre-meal cigarette, a small man in a dirty winter jacket wandered around with a styrofoam cup. He carried a sign that said something about how he had the AIDS virus and needed money. I don't know exactly what it said, I read it quickly. It was a very large sign with lots of words and I was just too tired.

I chose Jimmy Johns because they don't seem to cater to the homeless. It's a cheery place with Kitschy signs that create a very relaxed environment for the temporary employee on their break. I sat down and ate my "Pepe" or "Tom Tom" or whatever whimsical name they have for a ham sandwich and read The Onion. In the world of Jimmy Johns and The Onion the world is a sarcastic, smirky, condescending place- we're all in on one big inside joke and we love it.

The thing is, I identify so strongly with that man on the street carrying that sign that it scares the hell out of me. In my head, I am just one missed Comcast payment away from being homeless. I can see myself so clearly wandering the streets with a sign "Please spare some change- No Netflix."

Yesterday I bought some RC on the way home. RC. That's how bad it's getting.

And what do I plan to do about. For the moment I plan to have another cigarette and take a nap, thank you very much. It's been a complicated week full of data entry and American Idol -my head is spinning.

It's good to be back.