30 Day Challenge, cont.

Day 3: Your Views On Drugs and Alcohol
Yes, yes. Once again, it's been awhile. I will do a "what I'm doing" post in a few. I have some rad pics to post and such, just be patient with me. Be patient with me for the both of us, because sometimes I get so frustrated with myself I want to flick myself in the nose.

Anyhow.

My view on drugs and alcohol are this:

Some people are wired to be able to indulge in whatever and not have any spillover effects where the rest of their lives go off track.

Some people aren't.

If you can truly get high, get drunk, be wasted and not hurt anyone including yourself, then fuck yes. Go for it. I know it's an awesome feeling. For awhile.

I may have met... 3 people like that.

I am not one of the "lucky" few that can partake and not feel like an absolute asshole the next two days to three weeks. Things affect me. Drugs and alcohol affect me deeply. They even affect how OTHER things affect me.

So I don't do them. Anymore. But please believe, there was a day that I was right there, looking in the mirror, making the decision to abandon my goal to be my best self and get wasted.

I am dyslexic from Xstacy.
I still have a pull in my gut and my mouth waters whenever I think about how it feels to smoke crystal meth.
I involuntarily chew my bottom lip when I remember my acid trips that involved animal crackers and punching someone in the crotch and almost getting the shit kicked out of me.
I can get so drunk that I lose the ability to focus on the face in front of me, and instead stare to the right of whoever I am speaking to like their head has found prime real estate not at the end of their neck, but balancing on their shoulder.

When I was 20 I tried crack and came perilously close to making the active decision to give everything else up in my life to be able to continue on that path. After 1 time. Once. I actually looked at the crack pipe in my hand, with the brass brillo pad spilling out the top with the melted crack still smoking, the numbness that is so beautiful it making me forget to speak spreading from my lips to the rest of my face in a wave that was the most gentle tsumani ever concepted, and thought, "Yeah. I can totally do this. And just... this. Absolutely."
I was in the bathroom of a retired prostitute named Kitten, sitting on the edge of her bathtub, marveling at the baby pink and mint green color scheme war that was taking place on the walls and floor. I was with a boyfriend of mine who was a total pile. As was I, actually, at the time.

Lucky for me, that shit only lasts about 5 minutes. I mean, I totally did it again. But another five minutes later, there was such a letdown. With the words "retired prostitute" echoing in my head, I decided to leave, and walked out the front door.

It's one of my favorite decisions I have ever made. It's right up there with moving to New York and repairing my friendship with Whitney.

If you are not like me, I envy you. But only a little. Because I am totally awesome.

Also of note is the way I feel about how illegal substances are procured, the shit that goes into them, and the people that are hurt along the way of obtaining certain drugs. Now I'm obviously not talking about home-grown pot, which my only beef there is the lack of motivation for anything but eating, drinking, and smoking more pot it can gift to people. I mean the stuff that is shipped here from other countries, the people, primarily young girls who are used as mules, the people who are corrupted and bought along the way. Those things I am not okay with, but realize the eventuality of. It makes me sad.

Take care,

Abs

30 Day Challenge, cont.

Day 2: Where you'd like to be in 10 years.

I would like to be in an apartment that is nice but affordable. 

I would like to have traveled across the country on a white Vespa. 

I would like to have long, full, wavy hair that is manageable.

I would like to have had more than three luxurious, lazy beach vacations and at least one Times Square NYE celebration with Brandy. 

I would like to still have Dan, and maybe one other all the time dog named Carlin. 

I would like to have finished school, excelled and also received my doctorate in social work. 

I would like to have had a boob job. 

I would like to still be the "cool" Aunt Abi. 

I would like to be a practicing social worker, preferably for the state, or working with a state-funded institution.

I would like to be able to visit Whitney's & Merman's bar.   

I would like to have a drivers license. 

I would like to still think I am beautiful. 

I would like to have apartments in both New York and either Portland or Seattle. 

I would like to wear glasses most of the time. 

I would like to be a foster mom. 

I would like to own the dog walking business with Maggy and work the weekends. 

I would like to weigh 142 pounds.  

I would like to be submitting my 2nd book to editors. 

I would like to be working on handmade items for my friend's children. 

I would like to have finished my tattoos. 

I would like to still call my mom a few times a week. 

I would like to have mastered yoga and be crazy flexible. 

I would like to have found a hobby that I LOVE and that brings joy to others, and have that be a source, no matter how small, of income for me. 

I would like to still be blogging, even if no one ever sees it. 

I would like to have traveled to Greece, Rome, and Italy by myself. 

I would like to have seen my dearest friends celebrate themselves in whatever ways they wish. 

I would like to still be able to have Jerome laugh at words I make up. 

I would like to still be the kind of girl who takes angled pictures of myself. 

I would like to have found someone I could trust with my heart again. 

I would like to have found someone I could trust with my heart again, again.

I would like to be filling this out once more and putting it on my blog. 

30 DAY CHALLENGE.

Here we go:

This is sort of a writing exercise for me, just to keep me going. I recently had the pleasure of reading Whitney's blog(and yes, I went ALL THE WAY back, and yes, I cried).  She is...one of the most incredible women I know, and I think she said something that really struck a chord in me... That her and I don't have much in common aside from how much we absolutely love each other, and both of us are better people for knowing each other. I'm paraphrasing, of course. :) 

Anyway, she's doing this, and I stole it from her. I think it's going to be really good for me. 

Day 1: Your current relationship, if single, discuss how single life is. 

Okay. Single. Well, it's me and Dan Fashion, my wee dog. Happy to be so. Cannot really imagine myself happy with anyone as a "significant other" at the moment. 

After Farran and everything that happened with us, the things that still affect me, the things that do not, the way I find myself thinking about the things I did right, and the things I did wrong, how I have to remind myself that no matter how right the things I did right were, or how wrong the wrongs, I didn't deserve what happened to me as a result of someone I loved not being able to honor me with something as simple as fidelity, if not fidelity, at least honesty, so I could protect myself. 

That I still feel like I must've done SOMETHING, because having the choice to have children taken away like that, without my knowledge or consent... the pain echoes inside of me on a daily basis. 

If I believed in Karma, as my mother does, I would believe that to have something like this happen to me would be a clear sign that I am a total piece of shit. 

I do not believe in Karma, and some days it feels like the non-belief is a defense. 

I just… I had no idea I would ever need to protect myself from someone I loved. 

I hate talking about it, it feels like I'm trying to get people to feel sorry for me, but I feel compelled to do so at times. It usually happens with people who knew us together and then separately, or vice versa. It's like I have this overwhelming need to make sure that people know how terrible he is, what he's ruined, this piece of me. 

That I will never know my own child makes me want to fully weep almost every time it crosses my mind. 

That this is a direct result of someone I loved's lack of respect for me and my body, what could have been possible in my life after him… makes me want to strike out at him. 

I have made the unfortunate decision to write about this while sitting in a school hallway, waiting for Ellexis, daughter of my oldest friend. The sounds of children all around make my throat thick, and I sit here on this bench and hope that there is no need for me to speak anytime soon, for I could not without betraying at least some of what I currently carry. 

I feel like this is something that I do to myself on purpose, so that I can feel the emotional part of this purely, so that I don't hide my feelings from myself about not being able to bring children into this world, a privilege and right of most women born as women. 

It feels like I'm punishing myself for something I cannot apologize for, as I have no idea what it could be. 

I still do it. 

I think that single life for most is like coupled life. Just the same, but with one less thing. For me, it is the same, only with the unavailable possibility for infinitely more present, like a ghost at my shoulder. Felt, but not fleshed out, and never to be so. 

Who DOESN'T have a New Year's post?

Oh, HELLO! Happy New Year to you from Dan!

I FINALLY got some dogs to walk! I'm WAY excited, and yesterday was my first official day walking them. I met the two puppies over the weekend (16 week old Cavalier King Charles Spaniels) named Bruckner (the red one) and Barley (the tri-color). This is NOT a picture of them, but it is SUPER close to what they actually look like.  I almost can't believe how much these two look like the other two.

So, yeah. They're so cute. So. Cute. Pictures of the actual dogs coming soon. Like, the next post soon. Oh wait! Here's one! HAHA!

I'm realizing how closely that mirrors the above picture. Too cute. I mean, I may die from all of that cute.

Okay, nevermind. I'm good. 

Umm... I hope that everyone's (all two of you, haha) New Year's Eve was lovely and that this year brings everything you need and most of the things you want.

Oh. How was mine? MINE?!?? Well, let me tell you.

My roommate (Magnolia) planned a HUGE party for NYE, and a ton of people were invited. And not just those people, but those people's people. So it was going to be... ridiculous. I mean, we do live in a one-bedroom apartment that is big for Manhattan standards, but still. It's real small.

A quick word about Maggy, who I love SO much: She is brave, smart, talented, ambitious, hard working, has an open and pure heart, and is basically one of the best people I know. She's also 22. And Dominican. And I am her only white friend. I am 8 years her senior, and her ONLY. WHITE. FRIEND.

This gives me some...novelty amongst her friends, but also basically makes me REAL not fit in sometimes. I decided to absent myself from the party and either hang out somewhere with my friend Sarah, or watch her kids for her while she went and got her party on. My other option was to just go to Times Square by myself and watch the ball drop, but to honor my dear friend Brandy's request, I am saving my TS ball-drop watching for next year, when we can both go together.

In the days leading up to the shindig at our place, Maggy actually told me to check the walls the day after the party, because there would be butt marks on the walls from people being so squished,  sweaty, and rubbing against the wall. I told her that at white people parties, we just dance with the other humans, but whatever. I mean, can you even IMAGINE being so sweaty and hot that the actual COLOR from your CLOTHING comes off on the WALL? Well, I can't even imagine WANTING to be in such a place (post-party, I have seen the evidence, and not only does it look slightly...Blair Witch Project-esque, and therefore really creepy, I have to say that I am thrilled to have missed it. Per Maggy and Pierina, it was really fun for them, which I am glad of, but not something that would have made my life better to have been a part of. All that sweating and drinking... did I mention I'm 8 years older than Magnolia? FEELING IT.).

What I did end up doing was watching Sarah's kids, Ellexis (9) and Jeremiyah (7) while she went out for a little while with some friends and then met up with her husband at the bar he works at. Where there was a dress code. Where I had absolutely no desire to be. Because hello? I mean, I don't want some place that legitimately charges 4G's a table top for NYE telling me what to WEAR after I (potentially) drop that kind of dough. But I mean, let's be real. Even if I won the lottery, that shit would never happen.

Sarah told me that the kids were allowed to stay up until midnight, and that they could let off their noisemaker/ribbon spewing party things that looked like this:

AND that they could do it in the house. 

The kids tried hard to stay up, but they lost the battle at about 11:15p. I did tell them, after watching both kids jerk themselves awake three different times, that I would wake them up right before the ball dropped so that they could ring in the new year on time. 

At 11:50p, I got Ellexis up, which was not fully successful, but worked better than waking up her brother, who basically said just said "ok" when I told him we had a little less than 10 minutes, kept his eyes closed, and didn't move from his spot on the couch. 

Not quite ready to party...

TOTALLY ready to party!

As the ball dropped in Times Square, I sat with the kids on the couch, urging Jeremiyah to wake up, and counting down with the TV. I handed Ellexis (now fully awake) her streamer-shooter/tool of Satan, and told her to ONLY point it straight up, towards the ceiling. She obliged, holding it perpendicular to the floor, pressed the button, and with a loud "POW", the top shot off of the stick-of-evil, ribbons shot out everywhere, and a lightly acrid burning matchstick scent filled the air.

So excited to be a part of this.

And can you BLAME her?

The loudness of said stupid-stick/party-maker did three things ASIDE from shoot ribbon fragments across the living room. 1. It actually startled me. Those who know me know that I love to scare and be scared, and that it hardly EVER happens that I actually get startled or scared. That shit was loud. Loud and unexpected. 2. Jeremiyah was all of a sudden COMPLETELY awake and sitting upright on the couch, looking around and blinking heavily. He then pushed the button on HIS the-bane-of-my-existence/noisemaker-and-ribbon-spewer and it was #1 all over again. This will be funnier after you read #3.
3. Zore, the kids' 3 year-old Shi-Tzu clawed his way up my body and sat on my chest, where he must have felt safe and secure, because he relaxed in such a way that he promptly emptied his bladder down the front of me. (Get it? #1? Heh. Heh. oh.)

Yes, that's right. My first moments in this new year of 2011 were spent getting peed on.

The worst part was that it was so warm, I actually noticed the smell before I noticed the feeling. It was like a two second difference, so give me a break, but still. So. Gross.

I of course acted like a total lady and calmly walked myself to the bathroom where I removed...

No. I'm totally kidding. I completely flipped my shit. I'm not proud of it, but come ON. I just got PISSED ON. And NO, I am not INTO THAT.

I tore my shirt off, rolling it up and out from my body so that in removing it, I wouldn't  wipe the urine soaked shirt across my face and add insult to injury, pointed at Zore and called him the Devil's spawn as well as a few other choice names, ran into the bathroom, turned on the hot water and just started scooping handfuls of scalding water onto my chest, only taking a break to pump about...oh, half the bottle of hand soap next to the sink into my hands and suds myself up. I kept thinking it was in my hair for some reason, and was running my fingers through my hair like wet fingers never did anything so effective. I yelled, "I canNOT believe this is my LIFE!" and as I finished the sentiment, I caught a glimpse of my face in the mirror and it made me freeze. My cheeks were all flushed and puffed out from me holding my breath, my nostrils were flared in anger, I had my mouth turned downwards in a frown and my chin was jutting out.

Hel-lo, ugly face!

I had water running down my face, down my front, through my hair, there were drops in my eyelashes and hanging from my earlobes. Hot. Mess. Alert.

I realized that I didn't want to go into the new year like this, and that even though yes, I HAD just been peed on, I could maybe just tell people it was a good luck charm in some cultures, or even better! Not tell anyone at all! I quickly tossed that idea aside, because I mean, how could I NOT share, right? Right. But I COULD change how I was reacting, so I took a deep DEEP breath (okay, maybe 3 three of them. And maybe one of them was actually a sigh.), calmly dried myself off, grabbed another shirt, and went into the living room.

Me: "Happy New Year, guys. Sorry for all the bad words."
Jeremiyah: (eyes are completely closed again.) "Okay."
Ellexis: "You got PEED ON! HAHA!"
Me: "Hey. That shit is GOOD. LUCK. Don't be jealous."
Ellexis: "Oh, I'm not."
Me: *sigh* "Yeah, me either."

After cleaning up the streamer mess, I tucked both kids into bed, sent Sarah a text telling her that Zore may or may not be tied to the railing outside waiting for her to come home, but that he would, in fact be outside, that there was a pee-soaked t-shirt in the bath tub and why, and "Happy New Year".

Her response text was, "Oh Fuck."

Awesome.

Merry Christmas & Happy New Year!

At 30 Rock, with the huge tree behind me. <3

I'm okay, I'm okay

Hi there!

I know it's been FOREVER, and for that I am SO SORRY. I have been sick twice, dealing with a weird form a stage fright, homesick as all get out, blah blah blah... anyway, THIS is to get me posting and stuff. I have been taking pictures, and so my next few posts will be picture heavy, but I'm sure you will enjoy them, as they are completely awesome :).

So yeah. Happy New Year! I am so excited for what 2011 is going to bring me and those I love.

As per Dominican custom, I have my brand new yellow underwear purchased and ready to wear on NYE. Yellow is for money in the new year, and red is for love. Maggy told me, and I'm choosing to believe her, though she DID tell me to put toothpaste on my burn today... So... that makes this much more awkward.

Well, whatever. It couldn't hurt, right? I mean the chonies, not the toothpaste. I used Biofreeze for my burn. Worked like a charm.

XO

Picture Post!

Because I am feeling lazy and haven't written what I'm going to post for this last week yet, here's some pictures I took my first week here!

First view across the Hudson from a park on East End.

I know, right? So polite.
But seriously, if you don't, you'll get an earful. Ear. Full. 

This is for my brothers, Jason and James. That last week in Seattle was
COLD, and we would find these in the neighborhood and burn
them to heat the house. Don't worry, I think only about 60% of them
were chemically treated. At least, that's what it tasted like...

They're building a new subway line up 2nd Ave on the UES.
Hectic as all get out. 

This made me think of my Momma on my first walk
back in the city. :) We were in the park by the
Mayor's mansion, and this guy looked like
he was peeking out at people instead of
getting ready to illuminate.

I seriously saw a girl jamming down 1st Ave
on some rollerblades.
No. Fear.

Found this situation in a bathroom. Curious for sure, and
I was so completely into it. 

Staying cozy in the lobby, waiting to walk some more dogs.

This is Lola. And I love her. She tap dances when she pees.

This is Puppy. I also love her. She is probably the sweetest
dog I have ever met and likes to stick her tongue
INSIDE of my nose to that she can...clean all
the grit off my brain? I guess it's REALLY dirty.

Maggy and Riley, post-walk.
Check out the size of his paws! He's not even 3 months old. OMG.

This is Remy! I believe her to be the dog
re-incarnate of the flying nun.
She's so awesome with those big ears.  Also, she's racist.

Destination: The office

Heading home

The doors here are amazing, and one of my favorite
things this time.

Amirite?

Some are more committed and work out the window-box option.

First Favorite!

Jeremiyah Horizon. Beautiful boy. Says "tits" and "dammit". Sigh.

Ellexis Jolie. Lovely girl. Aspiring artist as evidenced below.

Why yes, that IS a butt taking a poo on my forearm.
Thanks for asking!

Yes, I know that, but tell me, fortune cookie, WHY ARE YOU BROWN? 

Oh, because you're CHOCOLATE, and therefore the 

BEST INVENTION EVER? Glad we got that cleared up.

Mags and I.

This... makes my stomach hurt.

Okay, more soon!

<3,
Abi

Last First Day

Okay.

Well here I am and it's day five of being a dog-walker and the end of the working week. Things are good. Different in some ways, the same in other, but, as I say, all good.

My current day schedule consists of being the first one up (630a), taking the dogs out, climbing in the shower, waiting for the water to wake me up, getting ready and rolling out the door with Maggy at about 745a. We get to the first client around 9a, and walk until 230p, when we have a 2 hour break before our last walk of the day. Then back home to walk our own beasts again and then climb into bed where I either write or zone out with Maggy in front of the TV (or, in yesterday's case, have a lovely Skype date with some bangin' bitches) until it's time for bed. I'm still really tired and trying to catch up from the jet lag. Slowly by slowly, as my old boss used to say.

So far I'm basically just sort of tagging along with Maggy during her walks and sort of re-learning the city. I'm having THE hardest time orienting myself to which was is downtown and which way is CP, but I know it'll come to me. Where I'm currently walking is the Upper East Side, close to, but not in the same area I was working before. It's tricky, though, because there is a slight overlap during my commute here and back, so I'll be trucking' along, thinking I know what's what, and Maggy will be like, "HEY. Over here!" And I'll see her from the other side of the subway tunnel, across the tracks.

Whoops.

ALSO, I may or may not have racked my downstairs mixup on a turnstile on Sunday. Real hard. Not to worry, I'm totally fine. I mean, these stabbing pains couldn't be in ANY WAY RELATED, right? RIGHT?!?? Right.

Anyway, I'm more concerned about the people who witnessed it. I think I really shocked them, because to cover my embarrassment at slamming my body into the ENTIRE train station(Seriously. The walls shook.), once I got to the other side of the gate I put down all my stuff and started doing jumping jacks to distract any and all onlookers from the fact that the ONLY WHITE GIRL in Washington Heights just smashed her lady bits on a 3 armed machine of death.

This last part didn't actually happen anywhere but inside my own head.

What DID happen is I laughed at myself, swiped the card again, and went on my merry way to the train that I rode to 116th, which is where Dan's new vet office is.

Now, gentle reader(s), you may be wondering WHY ON EARTH was I already visiting the vet? You may not be wondering with that much enthusiasm, but I bet you were wondering. Or at least, you are now. AT. ANY. RATE. *ahem* Dan had to go see the vet on Sunday because I woke up and noticed that sometime in the 24 hours he had fleas, he most likely ate one. One that had tapeworm larvae in it. And that wee larvae grew up into a NICE. BIG. WORM. or worm-suh. And some of those worms had made their way out of Dan's butthole and into his butt fur. Where they then dried up like little balls of hate. Or, you know... rice. Whatever.

So we went to the vet where they asked me if there were dried balls of hate/rice present, got him all taken care of PLUS a new vaccine, and then came back home. And that was our Sunday. I'm STILL getting over my jet lag, and by Sunday there wasn't really any noticeable change in my perception of time (read; I was effing EXHAUSTED) so we went home and hung out until it was time to go to bed.

Glamorous, no? Haha!

Saturday was pretty uneventful as well, I got in an hour late due to a delay on the PDX end, took a cab to my new apartment, got all my stuff inside and proceeded to curl up on Maggy's new bed with her until about 2:30ish in the afternoon. The rest of the day featured a trip to Target, a delicious dinner at Maggy's mom's house of pork ribs, chicken, rice, salad, sweet potato and some corn-based stuff that was sweet and…interesting tasting. Not for nothing, but I could have pork every single day for the rest of my life if it was prepared the way Maggy's mom, Ramona, does it. She seriously… she has a gift. Three years ago, on Thanksgiving, I was at Maggy's house for the holiday, and Ramona made this dish called "Pernile" which I guess translates to "pork shoulder". I remember sitting down to the table, feeling very conspicuous, being one of the only two people in the apartment that didn't speak Spanish (out of like, 17 peeps), and at Maggy's urging, trying a small piece of this meat referred to as "Pernile" .

It. Changed. My. Life.

Never had I had such a deliciously juicy and succulent meat, and I grew up eating VERY WELL. One so elegantly spiced as this, so pure and yet complex tasting. Once the first bite hit my tongue, all urge to chew, to continue to move this nourishment through my body in the natural order of things, totally evaporated, and I just wanted to sit with this slice of magic held lightly against my palate so I could feel the juices run down and pool at the bottom of my mouth, lightly pushing the tender meat apart using only my tongue. Not to hurry the experience along, nay. To simply spread the heaven around in my mouth.

So… yeah. I had some more on Saturday.

As for the rest of the week up till today, I have just been trucking along, trying to pretend like 300 pounds doesn't hurt to carry around for 6+ hours. Actually, on Thursday I got to stay home and sleep extra in order to avoid a cold that I can just sort of feel on the periphery of my life. That was awesome.

OH! I got to witness AND be part of my first NY crime!!! I know I shouldn't be all THAT excited, but come on! No one was really hurt, AND we got to call the cops!! And some of them were hot! Love me a man who makes/maintains the rules.

On Monday, which was my first official dog walking day, Maggy and I went into this dog run that is in the Carl Schultz Park on East End and E 84th. We had this awesome dog named Luca with us. Luca is a "Spanoni", an Italian breed which really means he's kinda janky (not sure if this is particular to the breed or just Luca himself) in that his hips sway HELLA wide (think Beyonce), his back is dipped in the middle like a spoon rest, and his lower lids hang out about a full inch off of his eyeballs. SO spectacular. OH. And, he generates this AMAZING drool that is like Spiderman's WEB It's so flipping sticky! He'll get all KINDS of thing stuck in it, leaves, twigs, squirrels, and today, a Boston Terrier! It's so lovely.

Well. It's not REALLY, obviously, but I like to pretend it is, otherwise our morning walks would just be a game of how long Abi can keep her morning coffee and bagel down. I mean, I come out the loser no matter how it ends, AND Luca gets vom in his super drool, so really. REALLY? Let me have this one.

Also? He looks like Falcor from the Never Ending Story (La a A La a A La A aaaaah).

Okay, yeah. Luca, Maggy and I were in the dog run, and it's just us and this other dude with HIS dog. Luca does his business (with that swayback, all he comes to do is crap in the sand, not to romp and play. I do believe that is the only thing about him that could be compared to a cat.) a whopping three times (THREE!!!), and after Maggy performed her clean up duty (heh. duty.) she grabbed a few extra bags for future poops. She got about 3 bags in (and before you freak out, she took a total of 7. Seven. No one is going to die with seven less bags in the dog run.) and while pulling out the 4th one, the man across the park, who up till now had innocently (or so we thought) been sitting in his ratty PJ bottoms and house shoes, long coat and beanie, doing the crossword puzzle, watching his dog run and play, yells out "Excuse me, how many of those do you plan on taking?"

Maggy: *rip* "Excuse me?"

Man: "I said, how many of those are you planning on taking? Those aren't for personal use, they're for the park."

Maggy: *rip* "I'm going to use them in the park."

Man: (gets up and comes over) "Then GRAB THEM AS YOU USE THEM, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"

Maggy: *rip* (says nothing, but DOES smile to herself)

Me: (just in my head) "ooohhh, man."

Man: (standing less than 2 feet from her) "Oh you think this is FUNNY? YOU'RE A TERRIBLE PERSON! IT'S PEOPLE LIKE YOU THAT ARE WHAT'S WRONG IN THIS WORLD!!! YOU'RE A DISGUSTING PERSON, YOU ARE THE WORST KIND OF PERSON, YOU SHOULD JUST GO WALK IN FRONT OF A BUS!!! YOUR LIFE ISN'T EVEN WORTH LIVING, YOU NEED TO GO, YOU AREN'T WELCOME IN THIS PARK ANYMORE, YOU DISGUST ME YOU ARE TERRIBLE AND SHOULD JUST DIE!!!!"

Maggy: "I'm a dog walker in the park. I'm using these to pick up after dogs in the park."

Man: "YOU DON'T SPEAK TO ME!!!!!!"

Maggy: *rip*

Man:" SFUHSKJNFIU!!LOSFMOSIDFN!!l

ksdfmclaojdf!lLLKNSLKFGNLSDNF!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

Me: "Maggy, let's go. Come on."

And we leave. No big deal, right? But as we're walking away, the part of me that makes me me starts wondering things like "What if he had stabbed her? Or you know, hit her? Or ANYTHING her? I was so unprepared!!" I was actually on the phone with a friend during this whole altercation, and he brought up a few good points, one being that Mace makes your eyes bleed(awesome) and is illegal(probably a good choice), and two, that I didn't have any PEPPER SPRAY!!! Now, I DO actually own some of that stuff(thanks, Brandy), it's just likely that my brain wasn't working correctly during crunch time while deciding what to bring in my suitcases and what to ship in boxes, and I probs packed it in a box, thinking that I would see it soon.

HA!

Note to self: GET SOME DAMN PEPPER SPRAY. And a gun. NOT A GUN. It wasn't that scary.

Well, okay, it was. A little.

Tuesday rolls around, and on our way to the park, we're wondering if the guy is going to be there, and we run into a client who's out walking her own dog (she must've been hella bored). Now, I've noticed from personal experience that people in general love to gossip. LOVE to gossip. The thing about people on the UES is that they REALLY love to gossip. Really. Like, I like to talk. And talk. And talk, and talk, and TALK. And I like to talk about people. A lot. But the amount of…momentum these people can get about something like a confrontation in the park is nearly mind-blowing, and actually slightly uncomfortable at times. In the right situation, any corner in this neighborhood can feel like being with a bunch of 6th graders crowding around a water-cooler. Or you know, sandbox. Whatever.

So Maggy tells her client about what had happened on Monday as we're walking to the park, the two of them get ALL KINDS OF WORKED UP, and are all abuzz with the possibility that he will be at the park again, and if he is, what might actually happen...

Lo and behold, once we get to the park we see him. We go to the dog run with Luca and before we're even all the way inside, Crazy McCray-cray comes up to Maggy and gets in her face.

CMCc: "I thought I told you you weren't welcome here! Go away."

Maggy: "And who are you?"

CMCc: "Who am I? Don't you worry about that. I volunteer here, keeping the park nice for people who BELONG HERE. What's your name?"

Maggy: "None of your business, and why? You going to call the cops? Because we can do that together."

At this point, the woman who Maggy has worked for before breaks into the conversation and says something to him. He tells her to back off, that this is not concerning her, and she tells him that Maggy does in fact work for her, that she is a good person, and if he needs an extra bag, she is more than happy to give him one.

CMCc: (to the client) "let me tell you about this person, and why you should fire her. She's a DISGUSTING, DESPICABLE person. Yesterday she came into this park and stole 20-25 BAGS for her OWN USE."

Maggy: "NO, NO, I already told you, I'm a DOG WALKER, and it was only FIVE."

CMCc: (to Maggy) "NO." (to the client) "She is what is wrong with this place. She stole all these bags for her own use!" (back to Maggy) "YOU NEED TO JUST LEAVE!"

Maggy's client tries to tell him to calm down, and that it's not a big deal, but it's at about this point that he notices that both Maggy and I are filming him with our phones. He does a double take, says, "Oh what, are you filming me now?"

Maggy answers in the affirmative.

He looks at both of us again for about two seconds, and then LUNGES for Maggy, grabs her phone out of her hand, hits her in the face, and throws the phone back at her.

Immediately after doing that, he gets this horrified look on his face and beats cheeks out of the park. He was in such a hurry to get out of there, he even LEFT HIS DOG BEHIND, I guess just trusting that the dog would follow. Total ass move.

A ridiculous call to 911 featuring me saying things like "I don't know where I am.", "I'm in a park by the river.", "No, I don't know which river."(I really hope no one EVER listens to the recording of that call), a manhunt(by the PO-leese) for Crazy McCray-cray, and a statement given to the cops later (2 of them HELLA fine. I'm so serious.), we were on our way to walk more dogs.

Whew!

In the days since that happened, we have not seen that crazy man. Also, we learned that he picks fights with other people in the park fairly frequently, and the regulars from the park are on notice should he ever be seen again.

Honestly? I hope we never see him again. For his sake, and here's why: When Maggy and I were leaving the park to meet up with the cops, I put my arm around her and asked her if she would be breaking down/freaking out about this later. Her response was "No, I just want to come back tonight so we can find him again and stab him."

So tough. Foolish, but tough.

Important to know, in the days since THAT happened, we have not gone to the park in the night on a stabbing mission. Please don't worry.

Other highlights: I wiped a HUGE amount (think sticky silicone icicle) of Spiderman drool from Luca's chops that got on Riley puppy's front leg during some horseplay off with a napkin today and came legit close to ralphing all over the sidewalk because ittouched me. On my hand. That I use for living. And other things. DON'T YOU JUDGE ME, IT WAS GROSS AND I DIDN'T LIKE IT! Also, a woman told Maggy that I am too fat to walk her dogs.  I'm not as upset as I feel like I should be about this, and I'm not sure if it's because I know that that's such a ridiculous thing to say, or if it's because I know that walking her dogs is more trouble than it's worth. I am SURE it's nothing like sour grapes. NOoooo, not at ALL. ;)

Today (Friday) is the first REALLY cold day since I've been here (yes mom, I'm wearing the wrist warmers you gave me. Thank you, they rock!), and it's also my last "first" day of the week in New York, since I technically got here on a Saturday. I'm really into being here, glad I came, and am looking forward to the way I will make this adventure work for me.

Picture post soon!

<3