Little Fish, Big River, Bigger City

Day 13: Shatterday

It started off well enough. Good intentions and all. I had a fortune cookie once which said "hell is paved with good intentions."

We were up and about at daybreak, enjoying AxL's relatively good recovery of late. Day by day, his stomach has been better and his seizures are fewer and fewer, the last one being Wednesday, I believe. The night time pacing, falling, circles and crashing about still happens on schedule at 3 a.m., but I'm somehow almost used to it now.

I decided to try and get him a bit "further out" given his growing stamina. Our goal: Madison Square Park on West 23rd between 6th and 5th. I brought the camera knowing we could take some shots of The Flat Iron Building and The Empire State Building from there. It took a good hour to get very far and we happened by a store selling Apple Computer products. My iPod headphones are busted so we went in and took a number. Twenty minutes and several AxL-adoring customers later, I learned that my headphones are obsolete and can't be purchased new any longer. I bought the thing only a year and a half ago and I can't even get headphones for it now? They guy told me to try Ebay. Someone at Apple should be fired for being a complete idiot.

We had better luck buying a Yankees baseball hat from a street vendor: just $5 and I have every confidence it will still work in a year and a half, unlike my headphones. We plodded along the street, noticing five or six of "New York's Finest" on one of the corners as we took several shots from ground level of the FlatIron Building with AxL's mug smiling in the foreground as tourists slowly went by us with wide grins smeared across their faces.

We crossed the street to the park and found a sign saying it was closed for the day. What gives??? I saw a few people about with anti-war signs and hundreds of police officers. We did our best to take pics of the Empire State Building and AxL wearing the Yankees hat. Priceless to say the least.

About fifty to sixty police on horseback went by. Why so many police for these thirty or so protestors? Weird. Oh well. We tossed some dry bread through the fence at squirrels and AxL perked up a dash at the sight of his first NYC Squirrel. Things were looking up to a degree. We began meandering back, taking several breaks for him to lie down along the way. We decided to take West 25th for the heck of it. I had fun discovering some sort of flea markets all over the place. Talk about junk. How on earth does anyone sell anything? However it was a cool sight to see all the vendors and what was truly a junkyard of items block after block up to 7th Ave.

We took a left down 7th and happened across some dishtowels on sale. Tired of using stolen napkins from the coffee shop, I bought a pack of bright, happy yellow towels for $5. Our place needs as much color as it can get, you see. I decided that I'm feeling confident enough about a job that I can afford sheets again. I shell out $20 for some navy ones that match my comforter cover. The store owner lady was dreadfully scared of AxL yet totally intrigued by him when we first went in. By the end of our short visit, she was walking him around with his leash, talking to him and showing him placemats. He should be a diplomat.

New linen treasures in hand, we eventually got back to our little place after saying hello to the Blu Sky Salon girls for a spell. Not much was going on at our apartment and AxL wanted another walk after a bit. On the way outside, we bumped into Maria "the neighba from Maine." She was on her way to HR Block for a tax appointment. We didn't have a route planned out so we decided to go with her for a ways. She had to keep stopping her normal New York pace for AxL but didn't seem to mind. She was headed to a tax accountant after all. Along the way she told me about the war protest while a helicopter buzzed overhead. I guess it turned out to be thousands of people marching, possibly the largest protest in history. The streets where we had been earlier were all shut down and flooded with marchers and police. It made more sense now.

We parted ways with Maria and went to our petshop in hopes of bumping into Ashley Judd. No luck. Even Nicole Kidman and Sean Penn's trailers are now gone. Stars will have to wait for another day. I decided that with AxL's uptick that I would purchase three days of canned food instead of just two this time. The walk back was slooow. I stopped at our favorite Thai place for some pad thai to let him rest. Just as we got our food, we saw Mike and Woody the dog. Mike should have his own talkshow. He has the talent for it. As I stood and AxL slept, he wandered through a monologue as I nodded politely. Great guy, though. Big heart, little dog.

Maria came along just in time to save us from the second episode. As we all walked back together, my evening plans of organizing CD's and making spaghetti were shattered.

Thick Maine accent: "Oh my Gawd, I owe so much friggin' money. I need a glass of wine. You want one?" It was 3 p.m.

I replied politely, "Uh, sure, I guess. You need the support. Just let me eat first."

Half an hour later, AxL and I went to her apartment to hang with her and Cha Cha the Cat and lend support against the IRS. As we got to her door, a happy faced gay man in a blue shirt was knocking. It was her good friend and co-workah, Richie. My CD organizing plans went flying out the window like an escaped parakeet with a caffeine buzz.

Five hours later, I've got enough material for a screenplay with quotes from Richie such as, "Oh just get down off your cross, someone else needs the wood!" and other suitable lines. Luckily, I held my own with one liners that put them in stitches a few times. Unluckily, I didn't have a voice recorder on me to capture the moments that would eventually become drowned after a trip to the wine shop for reinforcements.

Six hours later and we're headed to Cafe Fillipe for dinner as the evening plans had morphed into "many drinks aftah dinnah."

The lovely Racquel was there and as always, politely chatted with us. It began innocently enough, with her saying things such as, "I love that dog!" but before long, Richie was giving his best FBI Interrogation act.

"So where you from? What are you studying? How old are you? Boyfriend? Roommates? What are you doing next? Would you be open to going out to coffee sometime with a nice, handsome straight man?" His hands are gesturing toward me like a traffic cop waving a line of cars through an intersection.

I'm purple. She's politely smiling as always, bless her heart. I guess she can best be described as a beautifully sophisticated angel of a human being, full of class...despite Richie's onslaught. Eventually, she goes to the rear of the restaurant where "Tommy The Cat" is zipping around on patrol. I'm kicked "undah the table" by Maria.

"Go get her numbah!!! What are you waiting fo-ah?"

I'm waiting to die, basically. I walk to the back of the restaurant, sign for dinner and politely ask for her numbah. She writes it on a card and hands it to me. Wow, that wasn't so bad. My first NYC phone number. Hopefully my last for a long time. I'm not cut out for this. I've "got no game," so to speak. I try to avoid eye contact like a nervous, stray dog because every time she smiles my mind goes blank. I say things like, "stunning fettucine" but beyond that, I tend to get lost. My mouth opens and I mutter, "sorry about my friends, and um, what was I just saying?"

I don't know what happened to me along the way. I used to spew confidence to the point that people were drawn to me like a magnet. Now, I have trouble just looking an attractive woman in the eye. I guess I got too beat up at some point and part of me doesn't want to have anything to do with that road again. Yet, part of me is longing to be with people, laugh, see things, do stuff...like my words, I'm stuck between the memory of past pain and the desire to just be "me" again, the shining one. As I stand there, a memory comes back to me from college. A girl who always saw me around campus nicknamed me in her head: "The Sun God." Eventually, we became great friends and she told me the story which still flatters me to this day...except...where is "The Sun God" now? I feel more like, "The King Of Pain." I need to kick my own ass at some point. I need to just grow out of this funky shell and fast. I'm in NYC!!! Geez...(get off the cross, someone else needs the wood???)

My brain comes to as Racquel rescues the conversation and we talk about her upcoming vacation in Miami. I love Miami. I can suddenly speak again. I tell her the days to hit each place..."Newscafe" for breakfast any day, "Nikki Beach" on Sunday, "Tantra" on Monday nights..."BED" on the right night, but ask waiters what night is hot because it's always changing and they know the drill. Avoid "Mango's." All tourists.

Tommy the cat buzzes past my feet again. I head back to the table as Racquel says goodnight, puts on her thin little jacket and heads home. We've done enough damage here and grab a cab to the Meat Packing District. Yes...another new place for me. It's located around West 14th Street and 9th Ave and is full of great restaurants and "bahs" as Maria calls them. One is called "Hogs 'n Heifers" and it's what the movie "Coyote Ugly" was loosely based on. Maria has a laminated "bah-map" and she picks a place that is supposed to be "straight & gay" so there is something for all of us.

We arrive and go straight to Hell. As our eyes adjust to the light. We see wall to wall gay men. Richie claps his hands with delight. (Okay, maybe I'm embellishing a bit.) Maria and I turn to each other and say at the same time, "What the HELL???"

We decide to get one drink since we're there before going to a different place. One drink turns into two. I read earlier in the "Queer Eye For The Straight Guy" book that every other drink should be non-alcoholic. So far, I've adhered to it and am doing fine. In fact, I might even be above quota on water vs. wine. Cool. Eventually, we head to "Rhone" next door but it's drizzling and there's a twenty minute wait. We keep walking to the next place called, "Meet." It's filled with straight people as far as we can tell. Maria gives out her "numbah" to a guy and agrees to do something with him "tamarrah aftahnoon." At least we think that's what happened in retrospect. We get bored and decide to go back to Hell. We find our old spot and keep talking with some people we had met earlier. I chat with a lady who is a bit older and out of place in the crowd except for the fact that she's entirely interesting and an artist. I get information on her next show. My guess is she's somewhere around sixty or so? If only I could be that cool someday.

We meet a guy named KC who's also straight and all on his own in the city after flying in from SF for an interview. How did all these people land in Hell? Eventually the bah closes down and we're on the street. I'm grouching that I want to wake up in a city that never sleeps. Before we get a cab, I notice an old guy and young girl. He's yelling, calling her a "whore" and she's scared out of her wits and crying.

I'm suddenly all too New York. Not in MY city, buddy. I walk ten yards and step in. He's mostly bald but his head is ringed with longish gray hair as if here some sort of composer. The image stopped there as he was wearing the brightest turquoise alligator shoes known to mankind. He reminded me of the cars in New Jersey that have the neon lights glowing underneath the chassis. He's not pleased at my arrival. He yells at me in a thick accent and doesn't hold back. I dont back down. Not even an inch. I get the girl to the side a bit and get her version of the story which doesn't make a whole lot of sense through tears and her yelling back and forth at him as he's trying to continue his tirade toward her around me.

Maria is meanwhile telling KC to help me out before I get shot by a Russian mafia member. KC says, "no way, I'm not getting shot." Eventually, the Vladimir character gives up on me and goes inside. The girl assures me she'll be okay but I give her my numbah in case of an emergency. I did good without getting shot much to everyone's surprise. The cab arrives and a multitude of us pile in after not being able to figure out what to do next. Richie has already split for his pad in Queens as a result of not feeling too well. He didn't follow the "Queer Eye" advice, I guess. Irony abounds.

I'm tired. Buildings and lights blur by and before I know it, we're stopped and unpiling from the cab. I see a gray building with a silver sign, "Rawhide." I never thought I'd be so happy to see the infamous gay/leather bar that I live above. Maria, KC, a girl named Andrea and her two gay friends all pile upstairs to Maria's apartment. As we open the door and fall inside, Cha Cha the Cat freaks and breaks a vase and picture frame on top of the cabinet next to the door. We plop down on the futons and floor as Maria tries to sweep up the glass around us. After an unknown amount of time, Andrea and friends decide to head out and I decide to catch the last round of the AxL A.M. Circus which should be winding down.

As I step inside my door, the sun is beginning to light up the sky. It's 6:30 a.m. My first New York All-Nighter. Yeeha....zzzzzz....

Day Job Panic: 6 - I'm going to need an income to pay off this night.

AxL-O-Meter: 4 - Got to see squirrels! Doing great overall except for one small seizure today while taking the few short steps up to our door in the afternoon. Took great pictures of his best side in front of ESB and Flat Iron Building, three day food supply on hand.

Dream Dial: 0 - writing for the evening was totally derailed as plans were shattered.

ESB: Take a guess. Here's a hint: it's white. Again.

NYC Degree: 9.8 - great little tour of (not) Madison Square Park, AxL got to see squirrels, toured the flea markets, new kitchen towels and sheets, went out for dinner with new friends, went to Hell and back, had first all-nighter. Eventually went to sleep...in a city that never sleeps.

Heart Rate: 3 - To quote Matt Damon in Goodwill Hunting, "I got her numbah, how do you like them apples?"

Day 12: Flyday

The "AxL A.M. Circus" continues its sideshow run for several pre-dawn hours. I think he'll be playing this venue all week and probably extend his engagement into next week, too. Despite the damage it's doing to my own personal sleep-health, it's worth it to still have my best friend around beyond where I thought he was done.

We walk outside to slightly wet sidewalks instead of the promised eight inches of snow. Bummer. We come home and have breakfast - a hard boiled egg and a plain piece of untoasted bread. One of the first things I'm going to buy when I land a good job is a toaster to replace the one I left behind in San Francisco. I wonder if they make toasters "for one?"

I plug away at the last of my taxes and get ready to send it all off as soon as I can get a few last bits of information which haven't been able to keep up with me by mail with my bouncing about. I finally make a dash of headway in terms of getting my computer under control. It turns out that I had a worm which can somehow keep replicating itself every time I turn on my computer. I get some "fix-software" downloaded and find out that I've got at least 71 "agents" in my computer which cause trouble one way or another. I get them all fixed except for two which will take some more work after I get through today's interviews.

The clock rolls around and I put on my *best suit (*translation - "only suit"). I take the subway up town to Columbus Circle, being careful not to end up in Queens on the E train as I did last Sunday night. I walk into the invitingly nice office and a few moments later the HR person comes out. There seems to be a miscommunication and I've shown up an hour (and fifteen minutes) early. I laugh and think to myself that I'm glad it wasn't an hour late. She tells me five places I can go and visit to spend some time if I would like. I go downstairs, out the lobby door and hang a right. There's an incredible magazine shop a couple doors down. I spend what feels like an hour browsing all the titles that I never knew existed. I have no idea how so many magazines stay in business. I look at the time. I've only been there ten minutes so I still have an hour to kill. I walk out and across to the Time Warner Building after admiring Trump Tower for a bit. I notice that there's a loud buzz coming from downstairs and see people in what appears to be a lunchtime feeding frenzy. I'm a dash hungry so I take the escalator down into the cacophony and land in the middle of a Whole Foods mecca of just about everything imaginable. I mosey among the rushing lunchers who bump and bustle about as they are much more familiar with the place and know where they're going, what they want, and how this all works. It's a confusing mess to say the least.

I finally put a small salad together and work my way around to a cashier, grabbing an Odwalla Tangerine juice as I go. $8 (ouch) later and I'm now into the next puzzle. Where on earth do I sit? There is a huge lack of seating but eventually, I find a tall chair at a long bar of sorts, across from a pristine redhead. I'm not that hungry so I pick over my salad while being a "fly on the wall," listening to bits and pieces of conversations all around me. The seemingly high school girls to the right were discussing who got what car from their parents. The lady to the left of me was going on and on and on about her brother and his psychotic sleepwalking habits mixed with his girlfriends moving in and out of his apartment with his family only finding out he'd been broken up with someone when he's out buying furniture with a new girl he's living with. Behind me, they're talking about the fact that the office carpets should be torn out and replaced because they're disgusting. The redhead in front of me keeps her face low, almost in her salad bowl, as she shovels cottage cheese, lettuce and chopped beats into her mouth at an alarming rate. I think I must scare her for some reason as she keeps her brown roots of the top of her head pointed right at me without looking up. As she departs, I note where she goes with her tray. I also note that people are standing next to tables where other people seem to be finishing up since there aren't any seats. The noise of everyone talking is amazingly loud and wildly crazy. It reminds me of being in a Singapore market.

I eventually finish and drop off my tray but still have a half hour to kill. I migrate up a couple of escalators to Borders where Maria and I shopped for a bit on St. Patty's Day. I buy the "Queer Eye For The Straight Guy" book after reading a few pages and laughing out loud. I also buy a best-seller on investing for retirement. It's a good combination of my continuing quest of putting together a life that is worthy of sharing with someone special down the road. Oddly, I've always found myself feeling deeply unworthy of being with someone in that I want to be "the provider" and Knight In Shining Armor for a loving princess yet, I haven't been able to quite get to where I wish to be. However, I am finding that in the past few months that I am heading in the right direction now and I will eventually be where I wish to be, sooner rather than later. Here and there, you just gotta take a small step back, revamp and relaunch yourself. There is simply nothing that can't be overcome if you set your heart to it and stick with it.

After leaving Borders, I go back to the nice offices and end up with a couple more great interviews with great people. I have a feeling that I would really like working for this place based on the people I've met and the happiness I can see in their eyes when they talk about the company. It's a rare thing. My time ran way over so I'm forced to call the design firm and reschedule for Monday morning. Instead of taking the subway back home, I figure I'll walk down Broadway and get a New York Experience for the day.

I start at Columbus Circle and make my way down the perennial avenue. Block by block, it becomes busier, noisier and more exciting. It's an intoxicating mix of lights and advertising and theaters and people. I walk past the David Letterman show. I eventually arrive at 42nd and Broadway and have to just step to the side to take it all in. I become the fly on the wall again, watching the flashing buildings and signs and lights and listening to the tourists as they stand and take pictures of each other. It is entirely indescribable and simply something that I believe each person must take the time to experience once in their life. A man is on the corner with an open Bible yelling about Jesus when an overflying pigeon craps on my head. I go into a Burger King and wash myself off in the bathroom. I'm unfazed and actually find the incident to be amusing while hoping it's the first, last and only time something like this happens to me.

I continue on South until fading off onto 7th Ave - or Fashion Ave. I love how the cityscape changes from district to the next in New York. Depending on where you walk, you can get a taste of any flavor life has cooked up. After the Fashion District falls behind me, I'm in the middle of a wave of sports fans heading to Madison Square Garden for the Knicks/Nets game. More conversations buzz about me now, who's playing well, who's not, sodas cost $5 inside...no more tourists here...just the locals with their distinctive accents that make me feel as if I'm walking through a movie set on location.

My stomach is empty but my mind and soul are full of the last hour's swim through the heart of New York. I'm drenched in memories of the day as I gently cross over West 23rd, pass the movie set trailers for "The Interpreter" and feel my neighborhood welcome me with a gentle hug upon my return. For what it's worth, it's beginning to feel like I belong here at this point in my life more and more. Each day I seem to be adding up the grand total of things I will never forget as long as I live. Now and then, I think about how I miss the beach in San Francisco, the sunsets and my old neighborhood. I know that I'll go back there at some point and live again but I wouldn't trade these days in New York for the world. I find myself coming into my own in a way that I haven't been able to do anywhere I've lived so far. I've landed in the asphalt jungle and I'm surviving and even thriving on it's rich offerings. It's been one of the best adventures I've ever had in that I'm finally rounding out the man who was missing something to this point but is getting it now.

After taking AxL for a walk, we come home and I turn on Frank Sinatra again. I sit in my wide windowsill and listen to the nightlife picking up its pace in the streets below. It's better than TV and I'm remdinded of the scene in "Big" where Tom Hanks turns off the TV in his little hotel room and watches the action out of his window instead. Now that I think about it, perhaps that movie has many more parallels to my life here in the city...and appropriately, I walked past FAO Schwartz where part of it was filmed today. Now if I can only end up in that loft he had...

Day Job Panic: 1 - no job offer...YET...but soon. Things are moving along on the job search better than I had hoped it seems.

AxL-O-Meter: 6 - he's really doing well today. It's almost as if he's "getting better" to a small degree in some ways. Perhaps all the good food, tons of short walks, and tender loving care he's been getting are actually helping his condition improve. Weird, but wonderful.

Dream Dial: 3 - Kept working on scene index which is behind schedule due to computer virus, job searching and taxes. As soon as a job is landed, it will be time to crank up the writing a couple of notches and get AxL's screenplay off to my friend who is a script doctor.

ESB: wwwwwWWWWWWWWWWWWWHIIIIIIIIIITE!!!!!!!!!!!

NYC Degree: 9 - Gave my regards to Broadway!!! Lunch at Time Warner, Trump Tower, pigeon crap (well, it was an experience in its own right), Fashion Ave stroll...everything makes up for yesterday's dry spell thirsting for more.

Heart Rate: 3 - I LOVE NY!!!! (and it just might love me...) and of course, I love my dog. Who doesn't? If only I could find my Princess Bride someday...

Day 11: Thirstday

Another wonderful night of AxL pacing from 3 a.m. to 6 a.m. A long day of trying to fix my computer's worm ensued thereafter. Memories of yesterday warmly ran through my veins and my minutes, happily supported with the great pictures from the parade that Maria had gifted to me: bagpipes, marching police, Irish flags carried by kilt wearing laddies, and colorful flags solemnly proceeding up 5th Ave in honor of the "343..."

Frustration continued to mount throughout the day as my tiny laptop failed to overcome a very large problem while Norah Jones, Evanescence and Frank Sinatra play inside our little home as blaring horns and sirens dot the background in the streets below. It's another day of being alive. It's a day I leave purposely empty after such an amazing day yesterday. It's a time out of sorts.

Around 1 p.m., the phone rings. It's another interview callback, my third time speaking with this particular company which is what I feel to be a good, fun opportunity working with great people and a cool product. They ask if I can come in tomorrow and of course I can. An hour later, the phone rings again, it's a friend who has spoken to a company that works with his firm on marketing and they're interested in speaking with me tomorrow, too. I feel like I've planted seeds and after two weeks of watching the pot, green shoots are beginning to magically emerge from the brown dirt. I'm learning. I'm growing. I'm learning that my resume is full of fertile experiences that are valuable to companies. I'm growing into the large shoes of my past and I'm beginning to walk more comfortably in them.

Life.

It's something to be grasped and each day I find myself crawling out from under the huge rock that I've been hiding under for awhile. I feel like a boulder was thrown on top of me and I was crushed for quite some time. Here and there, we all deserve the chance to lose our minds and then begin to find our way back home where we belong. It's time to take AxL out again. We walk past Cafe Fillipe and wave to Racquel through the window. She steps out for a second and pats AxL on the head. The dog has a way of growing on people.

It's late and I'm back at the computer as the Empire State Building shines white in the night sky yet again. I think about the New York Experience I may have had today but find I'm parched, thirsting to drink from life's rich fountain in this bustling city of unstoppable buzz. I guess I can count the trip to the petstore where we learned that Ashley Judd shops for her dog there, too. They usually deliver to her up in the "50's" where she lives.

I may as well touch upon my neighborhood a bit in light of the fact that it's an experience in itself. One of my good friends gave me some advice about New York City living. He said live no more than two blocks from a Starbucks and a Subway station. Oddly, my place is sanwiched between a Starbucks two blocks South and the West 23rd St. Station two blocks North. Now, you'd think that there would be a Starbucks on most every block and corner in this town but my guess is that real estate might be a dash too tight for that. However, there are a couple of anomalies here. First, there are four "Bloomie Nails" manicure spas within a block or two in any direction from here. On my first night in the city, I found myself lost as I passed one of them thinking I lived around the corner. I saw the next Bloomie Nails and thought, "oh, I guess I live around that corner..." as I was going by landmarks rather than street numbers. For a moment, it was like being in a strange city-deja-vu as I saw yet more Bloomie Nails. Eventually, I found my place again, around the corner from the fourth Bloomie Nails. Next comes the Duane Read pharmacies which seems to be the New York version of Bartell Drugs. There seems to be at least one, if not two on almost every block in the city. One of my job interviewers told me to look for a Duane Read store to find their building. That narrowed it down to about five buildings all facing one another within the block. There are big Duane Reads and little Duane Reads and of course, some medium sized ones, too. However, even with the multitude of stores like this, I cannot find "Soft Scrub" and had to fall back on Ajax poweder and 409 spray for cleaning my shower.

Even more prolific than these two stores are the gay men. As each week goes by, it seems that the sidewalks gradually become more and more male dominant and my guess is that by summer, women will be driven to extinction within Chelsea. Then there are the dogs. As AxL and I walk each night around his favorite "circle," we meet dog after dog after dog. Yet we rarely see the same dog twice if at all. It's as if every dog owner in the city is taking their turn walking along our route to say hello at least one time, never to be seen again. We see a Dalmatian or a Labrador and say hello and I act as if I'm getting to know people by asking how "Sam" or "Sally" is doing, only to find out that it's an entirely different dog and owner. Perhaps I'm living in some strange parallel universe where the dogs and people are all just slightly changed bizarro versions of each other each time we go out the door. I'm still deciding if this "always new" aspect is refreshing or one notch too "Twilight Zone" creepy. Perhaps there's a movie idea in all of this somewhere...a man and his dog living in a neighborhood where every time they go outside, everything is the same except all the people are different. Hhmm...the plot thickens.

As my creative brain wanders off, my task oriented brain frustratingly plows away through anti-virus programs trying for hour upon hour to get my computer running again so that I might continue writing AxL's screenplay. Perhaps Ashley Judd and her dog might end up in our movie if I can ever get finished writing it to throw it out there to the winds of chance.

We're supposed to get eight inches of snow tonight. People seem to be bracing for it. I slide my windows down a touch just in case. Steam heat is yet one more anomaly of New York living. You can't have it on "half way" or it won't work right. So, I either have to take pliers and crank the screw all the way off or all the way on. There is no in between. It seems oddly appropriate...you either live all out, or not at all. Setting the dial to half way causes the valve to leak and spray and spread a huge puddle of water through my floor causing my neighbors ceiling below to lose all of its paint. Likewise, living halfway never results in anything but a mess, I've found. So, until it turns warm in general, we're doomed to live out our days with the heat on full and the windows wide open. If we don't, we either smother or freeze. I'm not even going to think about summer yet as I'm the only unit in my building without an air conditioner and I'm told I won't make it 48 hours once the heat sets in. That's going to be another story for another day...

Time for a glass of water and bed. I find myself finally growing thirsty for life again after spending a day like today without much of anything to take note of. I find myself wanting to live a bit bigger each day with the steam valve wide open, not just half-way. I guess it comes down to what someone said recently to me...you can't keep a good man down for long.

Day Job Panic: 1 - no job yet and despite not being able to interview for The Apprentice this morning, it's good enough that I've got a third interview with one company and an interview with a fourth company overall coming up tomorrow. I've interviewed at a publisher, an offshore technology resource and production firm, a film producer, and now an upcoming interview with a design firm. Life is like a box of chocolates...you never know what you're going to get.

AxL-O-Meter: 6 - despite last night's seizure and the previous night's tooth incident, he actually seems to be plowing along well overall. I've added two new things to his day - an hour or so of massage and a half hour of gentle brushing. He still paces and gets into his "confused" states and he still limps a ridiculous amount, but he seems to be smiling more than moping.

Dream Dial: 2 - unable to write due to computer virus but am turning over the "twilight zone" all new people each time out the door idea as a future movie idea. Made notes on paper. Started laying out scene sequence on 3x5 notecards for AxL's movie. Taxes took up most of the day, however so real writing took a bit of a backseat again today.

ESB: White. white, white, white, white, white, white, white. (yawn)

NYC Degree: 1 - nothing to take note of aside from Ashley Judd and her dog sharing our petstore. Walked past Nicole and Sean's trailers again near Hotel Chelsea. Did taxes while playing Frank Sinatra most of the day/evening. (more yawning).

Heart Rate: 2 - finding myself growing happier and more hopeful each day. Strange but true. Got a fortune cookie which said, "All of your heavy burdens of your heart will soon be lifted." Stuck it in my wallet for safekeeping and wishful thinking.

Day 10: Wicked Cold, Wonderful Wednesday

Double digits. A perfect 10, following an imperfect night. I had been hopeful that AxL was going to continue his "most of the night" sleep phase, but was awakened a couple hours after going to bed at 3 a.m. by his huffing, panting and pacing about. Here we go again.

I take him outside. He pees. Don't eat yellow snow, it's the some of the best advice you learn as a kid. We start to walk, he doesn't want to. I try to turn him around for the door thinking he wants to go back inside. He doesn't want to. What he DOES want to do is just stand and pant and look around. It's freezing. Thirty minutes later, we're still standing, unmotivated and fairly unmovable. Eventually, I get him going and we walk a few short feet, turn around and head back inside. He continues with the pacing and the huffing and the panting. He walks somewhat drunkenly, mostly confused, unable to lie down for more than a minute before he gets up and begins making his clockwise circles all about. I try to calm him down by massaging his shaking hind legs. Six a.m. is somehow on the clock. I've had two hours of sleep and it's St. Patrick's Day.

After two more trips outside, it's time to meet Maria of "Cha Cha The Cat" in 2E to go and catch the St. Patty's Day Parade on 5th Ave. I feed AxL his breakfast which he ignores. I give him instructions to watch the place and try to rest and I depart, determined to live life in spite of wanting to spend every possible minute with him. Maria and I set out down 8th Ave and work our way up and across town. I finally see Rockefeller Center and snap a quick photo. We get to the parade route and we're thorougly frozen with the launch still an hour away. We check out St. Peter's Cathedral and hang out in front of it as police look down with binoculars from rooftops across the street. Eventually, we're ushered off that block and onto the next. We try several locations until we find a suitable one up against the metal fences installed along the Avenue. We're directly across from the NBA store and next to Cartier on 52nd and 5th. I'm pumped. The last parade I saw, I was bicycling across the country and brought up the rear with the town cop somewhere in Louisana just miles from the Texas Border.

In that particular parade, I caught my shoe in my rear spokes and crashed in front of the huge crowd, clunking my head on the cop's car door as I went down and people rushed out to help me up. Not my best athletic performance but certainly a memorable one.

The parade begins despite it being so cold that it could freeze the balls off of a pool table. Maria and I get pushed aside again by a news crew that is determined to use the corner for their non-working camera. They eventually give up and leave and we're left to enjoy the parade and snap pictures. Everyone looks amazingly Irish, as if a Hollywood casting director hand-picked each one of them for this event. People yell and cheer. Bagpipes whine and buzz. Highschool marching bands shiver past us on their way from 44th up to the 80's somewhere as their bare, pink knuckles freeze while clutching their brass noisemakers.

The cold is almost unbearable. About a third of the way into the event, a strange conglomeration of people is meandering up the street. In the somewhat front, somewhat middle of the throng is Mayor Bloomberg. He points directly at me and mouths the words, "YOU THE MAN!" and I give him a polite thumb's up in return for his warm welcome to me. Perhaps someday I'll be filling his shoes in office. In the meantime, the CBS news crew returns and does a five second spot regarding "beefed up" security for the event. The anchor jokes around with two girls from England who happen to be visiting. He asks them if they flew over. I wonder what other options he thinks they might have had at their disposal. One of them has a great name: "Guisepenia Valenti." She was born in London, to Italian parents. Her first name is the Italian version of "Josephine" and her last name is literally, "steering wheel." I wonder what it's like for her to visit Italy: "Hello, pleased to make your acquaintance. I'm Josephine Steering Wheel."

Maria and I freeze through another hour of bagpipes and marching bands when the defining moment comes. A massive wave of 343 American Flags carried by perfectly uniformed Firefighters slowly moves up the street behind a large navy blue banner reading "NYFD 343" in honor of the courageous souls who gave their lives in the 9-11 terrorist attacks.

I cry while clapping sincerely.

I take a picture to frame my most memorable NY Moment to this point. I wish I could do more. I hope that if life ever presents a time for me to act as they did in some way, that I will.

By 12:30, we're both so cold that the marching bands all seem enough alike that we can depart for warmer environs. We bail East and get hot chocolate and I see my first Canoli in a coffee shop on Park Ave. I always thought it was pasta but it's more of a dessert "cheese-cookie" thing. (The stuff you learn in the Big Apple is never ending.) We make our way back and across the parade route as police let chunks of pedestrians through between freezing High School drill teams and Irish bagpipe brigades. We wander toward Rockefeller Center again and I get to see the ice rink close up for the first time. Then we mosey by Radio City Music Hall and the NBC Studio's where they shoot The Today Show. Maria wanted to drop in at Borders Books And Music in the Time Warner Building at Columbus Circle so we turn North for up Broadway until we reached it. (Yea...I walked up Broadway. Too cool.)

Wow. What an amazing piece of architecture filled with the finer stores in life. I actually ended up buying a couple of impulse items: the "Feels Like Home," Norah Jones CD and "Fallen" by Evanescence since my stereo is now fully operational and I can't seem to get enough of the songs "What Am I To You?" and "My Immortal" on the radio. (Click on titles for lyrics or you can read them below, too.)

After a dash of shopping, we made our way back through the blowing snow and freezing cold down 8th Ave and over the glorious 42nd Street as Maria pointed out all the Broadway Shows she's seen over her fifteen months in the city. When we reached our building, we parted ways and I took AxL out for a well-deserved walk. His bladder seems to be doing better during the day. I guess it's because he goes out every hour or two all night long. Eventually, night sets in and the Empire State Building was green in light of the holiday, so to speak.

As we walk up West 21st, we took a few pictures in the snow to add to the St. Patty's Day parade pics I took earlier in the day. The news told us that we should get eight more inches tomorrow night as another storm broadsides us. I can't wait. It's such a "cozy" feeling to sit and watch it come down, covering the cars and sidewalks as "New Yawkahs" grumble their way along while the sound of snowshovels grating on sidewalks gives a tinny city rythm to it all.

Just as we're about to turn left up 7th, we hear the trilogy of a man yelling, a woman screaming and a taxi cab screeching. I look across the intersection and a guy is holding up both hands and stopping a cab cold in its tracks. A small mass of tan fur is under the front left wheel. Somehow it scoots about and begins to race under the driver's door after making a mad u-turn. The guy grabs it as it yelps and he delicately holds the dog out to the woman. I've no idea why the critter wasn't on a leash. She thanks him quickly and walks off. The man shakes his head and waves to the cab driver who races away. The man continues in the opposite direction as if not much happened, as if he hadn't just been a hero. It's New York and there's no time to lose.

AxL and I stroll along as people continue to ask how old he is in the shadow of large mobile trailers and wires strewn about. Around the corner, we head down West 23rd and I stop at a nutrition store going out of business to buy some vitamins at a big discount. A man wearing a coat bearing some sort of union patches walks in for the sole purpose of talking to me about AxL. He had to put his dog to sleep about two years ago and he still cries about it. As he watches AxL, I can see it in his eyes - how much he loved his dog. I have a twinge of fear for my own heart down the road. He's a truck driver for one of the large vehicles parked outside the Chelsea Hotel where a movie is being filmed: "The Interpreter" starring Nicole Kidman and Sean Penn. Sadly, AxL has to tell the man he doesn't have the time to hang out with them today on the set, but perhaps tomorrow might work better. However, AxL is polite enough to watch the crew film for a bit through the glass doors of the Chelsea Hotel.

What a day...parades, movie stars, the mayor, Rockefeller Center, The Time Warner Building, NBC Studios, Radio City Music Hall, Park Avenue, the Theater District...new cd's...and snow. Could it get any better? Later on, it does. After getting home, Maria hears us clunking down the hall and opens her door. She's already got parade photos back from the 1-Hour photo shop. She got us an extra set to keep - perfect postcards from a perfect day.

It grows late. AxL is ready for another walk. We make our usual loop but he seems a bit out of sorts. As we pass by our favorite Thai place, "Regional Thai," he stops for a moment. Then he begins to move again. We make it past the next restaurant, Salsa y Salsa and we're just reaching Cafe Fillipe when he gets another seizure, wobbles about and goes headlong into a small potted tree decorating their storefront before going down. It's time to stop. I kneel down with him and pet him as he lies there with his eyes half-closed which give him a drunk-dog look. After a few minutes, I figure I may as well eat so I step inside and order the stunning fettucine again. I go back out and kneel down and pet him for twenty minutes while waiting for our dinner.

Eventually, the waiter comes out with our bag and asks me step inside while he runs my card. As I stand there, Racquel politely comes over to say hello. She missed the parade today as she's in the middle of fashion merchandising midterms. We chat for a bit and I find myself unable to be charming in any way. AxL makes up for my shortcomings. He's looking in through the glass door and she comments on how sad and pathetic his expression is. I tell her that he's really good at that "look" and she laughs as her blue eyes twinkle through her glasses. He is THE dog and 99% of my charm. I'm going to be lost without him when he goes, hopefully later, rather than sooner. For now, I'm incredibly happy that he's somehow "hanging in there" despite the seizures and the nights of pacing and panting. It's like he's defying death just to be stubborn a bit longer.

Once home, we share dinner. I sit on the floor. He slurps away at cream sauce and pasta on his kibble and rice. He spits out the kibble after licking the cream sauce off. Not even a semi-stern, "AxL eat your dinner!" changes his mission. He can do what he wants and he knows it.

Speaking of which, I want a job and I know it. I get online and look at the details for applying to "The Apprentice" because everyone keeps telling me I should. There are interviews tomorrow morning at 7 a.m. Before I can get the application printed out, my computer alerts me that it has a virus and I am forced to shut down now. A weird end to a Wicked Cold, Wonderful Wednesday.

Day Job Panic: 3 - No calls, no interviews, but felt like "Ferris Bueller's Day Off" so I'm cool with it.

AxL-0-Meter: 3 - Parts of his days seem much better, but the night pacing is a pain, not to mention the seizure tonight. He's definitely earning the nickname, "Battle AxL."

Dream Dial: 2 - Didn't get to work on script due to computer virus, but got to chill for awhile on the sidelines of a major movie being filmed. Way cool.

ESB: GREEN!

NYC Degree: 10 - Today is a day that I'll remember my entire life. Definitely a great New York experience from end to end.

Heart Rate: 2 - at least the city seems to be loving me a bit. New cd's soothe the soul...


What Am I To You? by Norah Jones

What am I to you ?

Tell me darlin' true
To me you are the sea
Vast as you can be
And deep the shade of blue
When you're feelin' low
To whom else do you go ?
I'd cry if you hurt
I'd give you my last shirt
Because I love you so

Now if my sky should fall
Would you even call ?
I've opened up my heart
I never want to part
I'm givin' you the ball

When I look in your eyes
I can feel the butterflies
I'll love you when you're blue
But tell me darlin' true
What am I to you ?

If my sky should fall
Would you even call ?
I've opened up my heart
I never want to part
I'm givin' you the ball

When I look in your eyes
I can feel the butterflies
Could you find a love in me ?
Would you carve me in a tree ?
Don't fill my heart with lies
I will love you when you're blue
But tell me darlin' true
What am I to you ?


My Immortal by Evanescence

I'm so tired of being here
Suppressed by all my childish fears
And if you have to leave
I wish that you would just leave
'Cause your presence still lingers here
And it won't leave me alone

These wounds won't seem to heal
This pain is just too real
There's just too much that time cannot erase

When you cried I'd wipe away all of your tears
When you'd scream I'd fight away all of your fears
And I held your hand through all of these years
But you still have
All of me

You used to captivate me
By your resonating life
Now I'm bound by the life you've left behind
Your face it haunts
My once pleasant dreams
Your voice it chased away
All the sanity in me

I've tried so hard to tell myself that you're gone
But though you're still with me
I've been alone all along

Day 9: Chipped Tuethday

AxL yet again, slept through for five straight hours in a row and I feel incredibly better as a result. We woke up right around 6 and went outside. No snow yet. We did our "round the block" trek and came back inside and I set about searching Craig's List for jobs early. We went out again around 9 into the thick of what appeared to be a blizzard. I thought AxL would be psyched, but he was not pleased. He stopped cold, refused to walk and happily turned around toward the door. Around 10, I called the film production company which had called me back for an interview. We set a time for 1 p.m. on the same street where all the flower shops are.

The snow is amazing. It's been so long since I've sat in my own place while snow rages outside. The Empire State Building is swallowed in the swirling white and the streets and cars below quickly follow suit. Noon nears and I dig out my only suit, a freshly pressed white shirt and my favorite silver tie, an old gift that I dearly love. I look sharp, if I might say so myself. I grab a taxi and head to West 28th and the address is oddly right next door to the same shop where the cat trashed the vase while going after AxL on Sunday. I walk into the loft-like, wooden floored office where film and boxes of who knows what are precariously stacked everywhere. It looks like a place where dreams are hard won through sweat, blood and tears. It's my kind of place.

I have an hour or so interview with three great people chasing their dream and trying to keep food on the table. I want to help them and at some point, I turn "consultant" to a degree in terms of what they need at this juncture. I hope I can help, but it's going to be a stretch based on my past experience in things like this. In the worst case, I'll do my best and see what comes of it down the road. If nothing else, I've made some more connections into the film industry on the production side. I'm sort of astounded how even after just a few days of effort, I've made connections with a screenwriter and now some producers. Sometimes things sort of fall into place if you just keep throwing yourself out there.

I venture home and decide to walk through the bitter cold with snowflakes sneaking into my open eyes at every chance. It feels good to be cold, and alive and I can't seem to stop smiling while watching grouchy faces sneer at the turn in the weather. Back home, AxL is sleeping soundly and I have to wake him up. We go outside and he sneezes while sniffing each little tree and fence post along his favorite route. He's taken to only wanting to go in one direction, around the same block for some reason. Oddly, I believe we've met about thirty or so individual dogs around the same block and we rarely see the same character more than once or twice. It's as if the people and dogs are new every day, being churned out by some "dog/owner" factory nearby on one of the piers.

We stop and visit the Blu Sky Salon for a bit as AxL likes to just walk in the door, check to see that everything is okay for a minute and then walk out. He has his quirks that are nothing short of adorable while being completely illogical. Dogs don't need a reason to visit a place. They just visit.

We have chicken for dinner and I put my suit away for another time. I go over the marketing information for the production company. I ponder. AxL begins to pant. Great...here we go again. He begins to pace about in his circles after two days of halting the dizzy dance. I take him out again and we make the round one more time. At one point, I'm not paying attention as I'm looking up at the snow covered trees. I hear bone hitting sidewalk as he has taken a major wipe out. I pick him up to his feet and his chin is shivering and he's whimpering. A dash of blood is coming out of his mouth as his gums are bleeding from what appears to be a possible chipped tooth, not that he has any left in the front to chip. My heart breaks as I try to comfort him. I hold him close and he nuzzles his little head into my chest as I kneel beside him. I ask him if he thinks he can walk it off as his whimpering peters out. He takes some timid steps and seems to be good enough to keep going.

"That's it, buddy...Walk it off!" I encourage him. "Walk it off..." He always seems to respond to that although I doubt he can hear what I'm saying. I've noticed that I pretty much have to yell to cause his furry ears to move at all. He's got an ounce of hearing at best.

The Empire State Building has gone back to white. We make our way around the corner, down 8th Ave and back to our door. I gently take my best friend inside and inspect him in better light. He's going to be okay. His gums have some small scrapes to them and he likely has a bruised chin. I begin writing on his screenplay which continues to gain momentum. I truly hope it turns out to be worth of such a great dog. I mingle in some work on taxes to mix it up a bit. I prefer to write the screenplay.

I open my mail. There's an odd letter from my sister. I open it. It's my birthday present. It's another envelope made out to "uncle scott," complete with a backwards "L" on it. There are little hearts, one has a dog's face in it, the other has a little girl in it. My neice has sent me my first artwork as an uncle. I open it and it's a picture of AxL, drawn extremely well. There's a hand reaching out with a small bone and for some odd reason, there are three eye balls, each hanging from a string out of the sky area. Kids are amazing almost to the point of being "spooky." I'm not sure if the eyeballs represent The Trinity or someone else, perhaps my grandmother and parents in heaven, but it lets me know that all things are watched. I put the art proudly on my bare fridge, using the little Hershey's Chocolate Guy magnet and the magnet from the Heart Of Chelsea vet clinic down the street. It's fitting and touching and one of the best gifts I ever could have received on this snowy, cold and semi-lonely night.

AxL seems to be snoring despite my gentle petting. It's time to end the day, chipped tooth aside.

Day Job Panic: 2 - I've got a short term mission to help a small production company while continuing to search for a regular gig. If nothing else, I look good in a suit and my gym membership is worth the outlay.

AxL-O-Meter: 4 - seems to be a dash better than a few days ago, but the crash tonight was not a pleasant thing to say the least.

ESB: White - what is with all the white? Only one day of patriotism and we're back to white??? I guess it fits with the winter scene of my first snowfall in the big city.

Dream Dial: 8 - got very close to the end of finishing the scene index of AxL's movie. Met some great people in film production.

NYC Degree: 9 - There's something about a wild snowstorm and walking the streets all bundled up. There's something about homemade chicken soup from my friend Bryce on this day. There's something about visiting a real film production office to know that I'm not alone in chasing a dream in NYC.

Heart Rate: 2 - Artwork on the fridge, eyeballs on strings and all...Love does exist, even if the "L" is backwards sometimes.

Day 8: Mundane Monday

Sleep. More sleep. AxL has finally stopped his on the hour pacing and panting and falling and milling about. He's now opted for a good four to six hours of passed out slumber which gave me the first real night of rest in almost two weeks now. We woke up early, went for a short walk and he wanted to turn around, come home and go back to sleep.

His new fleece bed which was white in color has a bit of a "gray tint" to it since he lies down on the gritty streets of New York every twenty yards or so during walks. It's beyond time to get him a bath. I decide to take him two blocks away to a groomer to see what can be done in short order due to his failing hips and legs. They can give him a quick once-over at 3 p.m., bath only, no drying, no brushing, no waiting. I guess you could call it a "power bath."

Until then, we have some time to kill. I spend the morning doing a bit of job searching. Then it's off to find a way to fix the bookshelves so I can finish organizing our home. We strike paydirt at a small hardware store that just so happens to have the right part in a tiny box among thousands on a wall behind the counter. I have no idea how the guy was able to look at my part, turn around, pull out one box, reach behind it and pull out the exact box with the exact part in it. I buy six pegs at sixty-five cents each and we're on our way. We stop off at Rite-Aid and I purchase Kleenex, and small cotton pads and listerine for cleaning my face at night thanks to a trade secret learned from an up and coming actress we know. I also get some real Q-tips, a scrub brush, garbage bags, sandwich bags, floss, and gum. We walk a block to the stationery store and purchase thank you cards to send to interviewers. I buy a couple of padded envelopes to mail some things off to friends that are long overdue - DVD's, heartworm medicine, hockey jersey, VHS tapes, borrowed software, etc. We cross the street and buy some more canned food which seems to have settled the dog's stomach. I buy two days' worth at a time, not knowing how long he's going to hang in there. We make a short side-stop at Chelsea Guitars and I buy three picks as it seems I'm actually playing a bit each day and not having a pick has become troublesome in that I sound much worse than I am which is horrible at best and unfathomable without a pick. It's okay. There's no one to annoy and AxL's 99% deaf as far as I can tell now.

That doesn't stop him from being an on the spot celebrity. We meet a girl named Sasha and her camera set up on a corner. We end up getting our photo taken. She's from Austin, TX and is chasing her dream between shooting her own projects, (today it's "people") and working as an assistant to other photographers. Her boyfriend works in the film industry and I give her my information so that she can get in touch via email and perhaps there's a way for me to put him in touch with the several other people I keep accumulating in my entertainment rolodex. I've heard that you can get anything you want in life, if you just help enough other people get what they want. It seems to make sense. We'll see.

We end up at home and I end up cruising the internet for jobs. My phone rings and I let it go to voicemail. I've gotten a call back from a resume I sent off and I end up with an interview tomorrow, much to my delight. The company does film production and has a second arm which produces premiere events for movies. The job would be selling sponsorship packages to the premiere events. It would be a cool gig and help me bridge my way over into the screenwriting/directing/producing entertainment world I hope to someday land in after I bumble my way along in the corporate world long enough to have one of my screenplays optioned on the side.

It's close to 3 p.m. so we head the two blocks to the groomer's place. AxL goes to the back and I am there riding shotgun and holding him upright as he gets a five minute, $30 scrub while everything he took from New York slides down the drain to eventually find its way back onto the streets somehow. We step outside and meander down the sidewalk in beautifully warm sunshine. It's an amazing day from guitar picks to having our photo taken to getting a bath to landing one more interview.

I block out my evening to spend it with a friend in town on business from San Francisco. The phone doesn't ring. We go out for an evening walk, the sixth of the day, around 10:15 p.m. Along the way, I'm reminded that I've grown used to AxL's condition as if nothing were wrong. A guy passing by asks with awe: "Geeeeeez...how OLD is that dog????" I look down at AxL limping and it sort of hits me that yea, we ARE barely moving as he takes his one-inch steps while dragging the tops of his back feet along, collecting more street dirt on his white, fluffy toes.

As we return, we hear the TV in Cha Cha the cat's apartment. I gently knock on the door and Maria answers. I leave AxL with her and run to get her "dustbuster" vacuum which she loaned to me for my cleaning project. We end up sitting and chatting about everything from the missing piece on Cha Cha's ear to decorating with sticks to her sixteen year old cousin's budding modeling (Details Magazine Spread) and baseball (two little league world series games) career. It must be an amazing feeling to be so young and have the world knocking at your door. My friend from San Francisco calls in the middle of it all to say he won't be available as he's still working away. It's 11 and time to wrap up the day anyway.

The news promises snow tomorrow. The Empire State Building has finally changed colors to the Red, White and Blue scheme which I love. The "color changer" must be back from vacation. I spend another couple of hours reading over job postings for something up my alley. Then again, I'm trying to do everything anew here. Perhaps I should be looking for jobs up my AVENUE instead of the alley. AxL sleeps away on his new bed. He smells like oatmeal shampoo instead of West 21st Street now. It's a good thing. Monday's over now, as my year in New York is just getting started.

I'm not sure why, but I feel like my life is kind of like AxL. It's not gone...yet...even though it seemed like it was. It's just moving slowly along and eventually, I'll get to where I'm going...even if I have to limp along the way and stop to rest now and then. Persistence, patience, determination...and hopefully a little more sleep. Good night, New York and thank you for another day of not eating me alive. As they said in the The Princess Bride, "Goodnight, Wesley. Good job today. I'll likely kill you in the morning." But for those who know the story...the Dread Pirate Roberts never did kill Wesley. He just handed over the ship when it was time so Wesley could make his way in life and eventually return to true love. Does it exist? Sometimes you just gotta believe...even on a Mundane Monday.

Day Job Panic: 3 - another call back boosts my confidence one more degree while lowering panic a notch or so.

AxL-O-Meter: 5 - finally a good night without pacing about, a fairly stable stomach thanks to rice and puppy food and yea, it wasn't the greatest thing but the power-bath had to feel good in some way.

ESB: Red, White & Blue! Finally a color change!

Dream Dial: 6 - the call back from the film production/premiere event production company takes me one step closer to the entertainment dream down the road.

NYC Degree: 6 - overall a rather uneventful day but a stellar job from a supporting cast of guitar picks, shelf brackets, and Sasha the photographer. Had spare keys made for apartment with "I Love NY" on the keys. Looking forward to my first NYC snow storm tomorrow.

Heart Rate: 1 - oddly hopeful. Not sure why...perhaps it's from realizing that I couldn't put AxL to sleep, I simply don't possess the ability to give up on someone I love...and that in giving him one more chance, the past week has been full of wonderful moments despite his "old dog" condition. Perhaps someone will give this good heart the chance it deserves someday, too.

Day 7: Queens Fool

Waking up to a spotless apartment on a Sunday morning has an uncanny effect on one's day, especially after stumbling over boxes for as long as I have. I grabbed the "Lisa List" of things to purchase and fix up to finish off the organizing task: shelf brackets, dried flowers, dishtowels, dishrack, etc. I decided to start with finding the small metal posts that my last two bookshelves needed so I could put them into place. The first hardware store gave me no luck. I went to Starbucks and asked them if they knew of other hardware stores. One of the guys suggested I go to a sex shop on 17th where they "make things out of metal."

Hm.

I walked down West 17th but didn't see the sex shop, relieved at the thought of not having to have something custom made by such a place. Two more hardware stores failed to help me out. I walked up Seventh Ave to West 28th. I took a right. I was on to the "dried flower" task of filling a tall vase with something so that it wouldn't be empty when it wasn't full of expensive fresh flowers. As AxL and I meandered down the street, we were greeted with the hustle of workers unloading palm trees and flats of blooming tulips, Gerbera Daisey's, orchids, and ferns in the cool morning that sent windy chills through the torn knee of my Levi's. The sidewalks were filled with exploding colors as all the stores in "The Flower District" were setting out their goods. It was like walking through a movie scene and I wondered how many other little "districts" there are to discover.

We went in shop after shop, trying to decide what to purchase for our humble abode. We went into the last shop on the street and were met with a crash and a hiss. A small cat had decided to break a vase and throw herself at AxL full force. AxL retreated into the glass door as the cat retreated in the opposite direction after realizing AxL's relative size. I'm not sure who was more shocked, me, the cat, AxL or the store owner who came running from the back at the sound of the crashing merchandise. I helped AxL escape outside while the cat got a scolding. The owner set her down and she shot right back into the front window and bounced herself off of it while knocking down a couple more vases which luckily didn't break. AxL decided to take a nap and ignore the freakshow cat. I settled on some "sticks" for $10 which seemed a lot more "manly" than decorating with dried flowers. I shook my head as we walked down the other side of the street. It seemed so odd to actually have to pay for sticks. They used to be something that you broke into pieces and shoved into garbage bags while cleaning the yard. Aaah, life in the city.

One store window was filled with incredible orchids. Seeing as orchids are something I've always enjoyed having about, I went in to just look around. I walked out with two phaleonopsis - one white with purple centers and one white with purple stripes through the blooms. The guys even put them into clay pots and wrapped them up with tissue paper and a surgical stapling job so they could make it home unbroken in the wind.

AxL showed signs of failing legs so we began our long, almost two hour walk home a few short blocks as he had to rest every so often. At one resting point, I was reminded of the evening's upcoming plans - dinner with Bryce, Jennifer and Baby Ann - as I was standing in front of a super store aptly named, "Buy Buy Baby." There's something to be said for the honesty of the name, kind of like a forthcoming mugger: "jus' gimme all your money and no one gets hurt."

As I stood there, looking at fifteen foot high shelves filled with diapers, a couple ran over my foot with their stroller while junior drooled on himself as he passed by. I guess that's what I get for standing too close to the portal of the "all things baby mecca" of Mahattan. I'd love to have children someday and go through this phase of being human yet I doubt the day will come for me. Until then, I get to "rent" as my friend Bryce so aptly put it over dinner later in the evening.

I was due to arrive around 7, so I left AxL for one of the few times in the last two weeks and set out. I felt like I was a solid New Yorker now so I brought a book along on the subway to read since there's not much to see except other passengers. I chose the heavy-minded Icelandic Sagas that I keep struggling with. The subway arrived and I got on. I rode for a bit, noted the stops and the stations and then slowly got more and more absorbed reading. It felt like a long time since the last stop, but I didn't really pay attention. I had three to go. The next stop was also a long ride from the previous stop. I figured the blocks are further apart when you get to the "Upper" neighborhoods around Central Park. On the third stop, I got out and noticed that the entire car unloaded with me. Then I noticed that the station said "Roosevelt" instead of West 86th Street. Weird.

I walked up and out and felt confused as signs directed me to 74th or 75th. Where was I? Having never been to the Upper West Side, I wasn't sure what the neighborhood was supposed to look like or where to head to catch the cross-town #1 Bus to get to the Upper East Side. I called Bryce. Jennifer answered. I told her my location according to the signs. She asked me about the neighborhood, "How bad is it?"

"Um, not too bad, but I'm not really sure."

"Oh boy. You're in a borough. Probably Queens."

"Oops." I went back to the station and asked the attendant where I was. Yep, I was in Queens and not by a little. So, I went back downstairs, reloaded myself onto a train going the opposite direction, back to Manhattan. Eventually, I arrived at Lexington Station, made a transfer through a surreal, neon light filled hallway and headed up to the East 86th Street station where I correctly disembarked. As I emerged into the relatively fresh night air of the city, I was definitely on the Upper East Side now. I made my way to their apartment and was greeted with the incredible scent of a homecooked meal - roasted chicken, a special French family recipe for potatoes, and green beans. There was also the fine scent of candles, but I safely assumed they weren't on the menu.

We started with champagne to celebrate my arrival both in New York and at their home...albeit an hour late. I sat on the floor with the little angel named Ann and helped her pull noisy, fluffy toys from a basket that was supposed to stay filled. Ann's a flirt to say the least. Her big blue eyes and perfect ten month old baby smile could melt the heart of a Hell's Angel suffering from hemmorhoids. She could very likely give AxL a run for his money in terms of meeting people on the street and should I ever work it out that I stroll the Avenues with both of them, I'd be unresistable to say the least. Enough about selfish thoughts.

It's story time. Jennifer reads all of us "The Snowy Day" and two others as Ann flips the pages right on cue. She takes the time to look up over the book at me and smile and grin and giggle. I'm definitely ready for this kind of life someday...someday...someday. After a long pile of bachelorhood that has been nothing short of empty, I finally realize the beauty of raising a family and the incredible love that only the innocence of a child can contain, even for a formerly selfish adventurer like me. I don't get it, how I've changed or why, but I do hope to somehow get to this point in life eventually. I look forward to the end of the day and reading stories to a perfect baby in perfectly soft pajamas as she yawns and passes out in my lap.

Ann's passed out. It's time for dinner. The food is incredible and the conversation is cerebral. We discuss everything from the origination of taxes under the king's rule to the finer details of large scale real estate investments with sidenotes on market risk and leveraging capital through offshore investments. I find it odd that despite no real knowledge or experience in either of these matters, that I'm somehow able to maintain the subjects easily. I guess I was listening in a few of my classes back in college or something.

We finish the night and I decide to take a taxi home instead of fooling about in Queens again. Lesson learned - never take the "E" train when you should take the "C" train. They have different letters for a reason. The cab ride is wonderfully fast as we slip down the east side of Manahattan along the river, and under majestic bridges as 23rd arrives quickly. Before I know it, I'm home with my little plastic container of chicken soup that Bryce gifted to me at his door. I walk in and AxL is out cold. Too cold.

I call his name, he doesn't respond. I go over and shake him and he eventually comes to and we eventually get him outside and we eventually get back home again. I smile at the orchids and their insane beauty. How can anyone be an atheist when things like this exist? I laugh to myself about the "sticks" in their vase and that they actually look good, as if I know what I'm doing when it comes to decorating.

Sure, I might get lost now and then along the way, but overall, I always seem to finally arrive at the right place...and hopefully someday there will be bedtime stories with happy endings mingled with the sound of innocent angel giggles.

Day Job Panic: 0 - but spent much of the day praying for good news in the upcoming week so that I won't be spending my time on the opposite side of the Starbucks counter.

AxL-O-Meter: 4 - oddly, he seems to be pretty much okay aside from his incredibly slow limping walk, some falls and passing out. An almost pure rice diet mixed with canned "puppy food" instead of "adult dog" food seems to have slowed his stomach down a touch. He's definitely 90% deaf now.

ESB: Missed it this evening but assume it was white.

Dream Dial: 5 - Spent the middle of the day writing more scenes of AxL's movie. Will likely finish scene index and start edits of scenes later this week.

NYC Degree: 7 - Enjoyed an amazing morning in the flower district full of colors and bustle, bought two orchids and "sticks" to bring "life" to the apartment, hung out in Queens for a bit, had a great evening with Bryce, Jennifer and Baby Ann...with good food and conversation that was truly New York from an intellectual standpoint.

Heart Rate: 0 - Bryce and Jennifer said they'd love to introduce me to single women but they only know "spinsters" so I politely said I could get into enough trouble on my own, thank you very much.