I'm still really fucking sad and still don't know what to do. I can't really talk to anyone about this. I feel really alone. I'm going to see 2 counselors within as many weeks but I still don't have anyone to share this shit with. Not really an online conversation kind of guy. More of an in person kind of guy, but I need time to actually get my shit out. I want to be selfish and just talk about me. Guess I gotta pay for that. Wish that the appointments weren't so far out. Shit in a shoe, right?

mental status

I'm really fucking sad right now and I don't really know what to do.

Day 1 of 30 day juice regimen...FIGHT

Breakfast

Dr. Oz Juice

·       Apples - 2 medium (3" dia)

·       Celery - 3 stalk, large (11"-12" long)

·       Cucumber - 1 cucumber (8-1/4")

·       Ginger - 1/2 thumb (1" dia)

·       Lemon (with rind) - 1/2 fruit (2-3/8" dia)

·       Lime (with rind) - 1 fruit (2" dia)

·       Parsley - 1 bunch

·       Spinach - 2 cup

Rise and Shine

1 cup pineapple

1 peach

1 mango (pitted)

1 banana

Martha Stewart's Green Juice Recipe

Here's Martha Stewart's recipe that she drinks each and every morning to jump start her day. Contains plenty of nutrients for continuous energy.

Ingredients

• Apple - 1/2 medium (3" dia)

• Celery - 1 stalk, large (11"-12" long)

• Cucumber - 1/2 cucumber (8-1/4")

• Ginger - 1 thumb (1" dia)

• Papaya (deseeded) - 0.25 fruit, large

• Parsley - 1 handful

• Pear - 1/2 medium

• Spinach - 1 cup

Lunch

Original V-8 Recipe

Ingredients

• Carrots - 2 large (7-1/4" to 8-/1/2" long)

• Celery - 3 stalk, large (11"-12" long)

• Cucumber - 1/2 cucumber (8-1/4")

• Parsley - 2 handful

• Pepper (sweet green) - 1/2 medium (approx 2-3/4" long, 2-1/2" dia)

• Spinach - 1 cup

• Tomatoes - 3 medium whole (2-3/5" dia)

Dinner

V-28 Juice

Ingredients

• Beet Roots - 3 beet (2" dia)

• Carrots - 2 medium

• Celery - 2 stalk, large (11"-12" long)

• Parsley - 4 handful

• Pepper (jalapeno) (seeds/ribs removed) - 1 pepper

• Radishes - 12 medium (3/4" to 1" dia)

• Tomatoes - 4 plum tomato

Sunset Blend

Ingredients

• Apples (golden delicious) - 2 medium (3" dia)

• Beet Roots - 2 beet (2" dia)

• Carrot - 1 large (7-1/4" to 8-/1/2" long)

• Orange (optional) - 1 fruit (2-5/8" dia)

• Pepper (sweet red) - 1 medium (approx 2-3/4" long, 2-1/2 dia.)

• Sweet Potato - 1 sweetpotato, 5" long

Why I write

I asked myself that question. "Why write? What topic, stumbling aimlessly in my mind, is so important that it must see the light of day? If the topic is even remotely interesting, am I even qualified to tell it in such a way that does it any sort of creative justice?" Obviously, there are no simple answer to these questions. What I do know is that I want to do it. The journey of 1,000 miles and all...There are a host of topics that could be combined up there. Black vampire who writes health care policy? Sure. I guess. Introverted and failed writer who reads other peoples stories for inspiration? Been done before. One of my favorite T.V. series from the 1990's is "Red Shoe Diaries." This isn't so much because it introduced me to the nude female form in the comfort of my own home at such a tender young age, but more so because I liked David Duchovny's character. He's puts an ad out in one of the local newspapers asking women to send him erotic stories from their own lives. Each episode is each letter. Upon the conclusion of each episode, he quips, to his trusty canine companion, some unspoken, yet clearly obvious, observation about the letter before finishing his walk. Although the premise for the show can be seen as unrealistic, i found myself drawn to his character. His fiancee committed suicide, so he fills the void left by his wife's death with stories from other women, with the idea being that he could figure out what he did wrong, presumably so he can recognize warning signs in the future.

What does any of this have to do with writing? I suppose the idea of a loner who takes an outside view of all that's going on around him, praying that he goes unnoticed is kind of appealing. There's something innately appealing to me about detaching myself from reality and posing questions; on the world, the people in it, the sick and stupid shit they do, the absolutely wonderful things they do and everything in between, to readers. Here's what's sick about this whole scenario. Despite the fact that I view myself as more of a loner than is actually true, I want to be extensively read in literary circles world-wide. To add another dimension to this whole world within my head, I want my work to be seen as this dirty little literary secret too. I want to be known as a writer's writer who actually appeals to the masses. It would be like if MeShell Ndegeocello were to actually be extremely popular and well played rather than the, relatively, unnoticed musical genius that she is. These delusions of future literary grandeur are keeping me up late and preventing me from getting the rest needed to do my job tomorrow, not to mention getting a policy brief completed before tomorrow evening for my Health Disparities course. Or maybe what's keeping me up late at night is figuring out what kind of dog I want to walk as my character's reads letters from bored and lonely women while trying to figure out where he went wrong. If you've actually taken the time to read this through, then i'll let you be the judge.

One Day

It's happened. Something that, in my mind, was so unlikely to have happened that it actually (in some hipster-esque ironic fashion) makes sense that it did. I found myself (and continue to) moved by the recent release of the film "One Day". Ask Meg and she'll tell you that i'm not quite the Rom-Com kind of dude.

For those of you who are not in the know (doubtful), "One Day" is the story of Emma and Dexter. They meet for the first time upon graduation from U Edinburgh on July 15th 1988. Although, Em admits that she and Dex have met before, in rather unflattering instances; Dex, in his drunken stupor (which seems to be a rather disturbing pattern throughout the novel), has no recollection of their previous run ins. What follows next is Dex (Cassanova that he is) trying to hook up with an obviously shy, yet infatuated, Em. Reluctant at first to his advances, she finally acquiesces. Rather joltingly, Dex changes his mind and tries to skee-daddle ((we catch a glimpse of him in the unceremonious act of putting on his trousers while Em's in the lou (sorry brits, i don't know how to spell that one) mustering up the courage needed to successfully bed the beguiling male specimen in her bed.)) She comes out looking, admittedly, geeky, timid, resolute and seductive, but then notices his change of mind and decides quite quickly that it was a mistake to think that this would actually happen in the first place. To cut a long story short, the spend the night with one another, but don't move past some rather sweet spooning to the waxing moonlight.

***Spoiler Alert***

If you do not wish to know what happens next because you'd rather see/read for yourself, by all means don't read the next few lines. I'll italicize them so that way it's distinct what's the spoiler and what isn't. A firm line in the sand will demarcate when the spoiler has ended.

So the movie ends with a flashback of them waking up after they decide to lay down with one another back in 1988, exchanging a few tender/awkward sentences and deciding to take a walk. They playfully trudge up a hill situated next to the school where, presumably, they can take in the Edinburgh sky-line. Upon reaching the summit, they converse with one another on the history of the day in question. Realizing that he wants her just as badly as he did last night, whilst soundly drunk, Dex makes another pass at her. Not to look a gift horse in the mouth (i guess i can see why some critics would have an issue with that) she decides to throw caution (and presumably her knickers) to the wind. In fact, she's the one leading the charge down the hill and back into town. The race is against the clock because he wants to do the deed before his parents return. Once they enter town, a pre-dawn light bathes the city square in a blue, yet unpredictably auspicious, light. They embrace each other in quite the passionate kiss (scene serves as the cover for the book and movie posters.) The music that plays throughout this scene is light-hearted and happy, much like our love birds. Unfortunately, their tryst is cut short by his poorly timed, cock blocking parents. Que lastima. After awkwardly, yet glowingly, meeting his parents, Em decides to exit stage right while he tries to reassure his smirking mother (she's well played here) and obviously embarrassed father that Em is his friend and nothing more. The scene cuts to Em walking down the street and Dex running up to her to try and arrange future meets with her. After bantering with each other, and kissing one another, in that perfectly nerdy and awkward way, she notes with confidence that they will see each other again. We see them trade contact info, cutesy good byes and, while turning their backs on one another, steal glimpses at one another. Fade to black. Roll credits.


***Spoiler done***

The rest of the story revolves around their lives and this particular day, during which we see their respective trials, tribulations, loves and losses. The glue in their lives is their unofficial pact that this day is what keeps them stable for the remaining 364. The movie fashions itself in a way that shows the days without one another and the one day that they actually do have each other to themselves.

(a more romantic approach to this whole premise would be to secretly steal their calendars, cross out every other month & date and write July 15th over and over again.)

So why am I even taking the time to write on this topic in the first place? Truth be told, I can't give you a straight answer. Even before this movie came out, I saw the previews and (at the risk of sounding utterly melodramatic) felt something stir. I suppose my trepidation at seeing this movie on the screen came from a few places.

1.) Meg read the book at the suggestion of her friend, Traci. Meg and I have, largely, incongruent tastes in books and movies.

2.) Major motion features adapted from novels are, for me, like new releases of Dan Brown novels in Barnes & Nobles. More often than not, lots of shimmer, but the depth and emotionally complexity of a thimble of water...for Feival.

3.) ZERO black folk. Pause. That's not true. Some rappers meet Dex on one of his shows and he, painfully, fumbles the interview in the red zone. In this one, we're none existent, but when we are, we're non-smiling, ultra cool caricatures of what we're supposed to be like. Shaka Zulus, but wearing what one would see at a Das FX concert. But there aren't a lot of us who would have existed in Dex and Em's world to begin with so it's logical to see no brown folk.

Regardless, I found myself in the embarrassing position of being that guy who blubbers ceaselessly for folks that, seemingly, share no connection to him (outside of the obvious). I've never chased anyone for twenty years off and on, nor have I had a flirtatious relationship with any of my friends that were tolerated to the level they are in the book/movie. In fact, back in college/post college when I did have flirtatious interactions with female friends that resulted in sex, I usually lost the friendship, much to my extreme consternation and disappointment.

Yet there I was, during key parts of the film, blubbering my eyes out with the 4 teenage girls seated several rows behind us. I think Charles would take a stripe from me on that one...ask him about if you want to get the joke...don't you just hate inside jokes that really aren't that funny to begin with and are now just annoying because they don't really advance they story along? But I digress...monumentally...

Ultimately, I can't put my finger, specifically, on what about this particular movie that broke me down in such an unexpected fashion. I mean, part of me knew that I was going to see this movie and feel something, given how much I felt in the build-up. I just wasn't expecting such a movie to be so good at the job. To say the least, this film has moments that will stick with me for a while.

I tried to think of the emotions the film brought out. Jealously? Partly because i'm not in Europe anymore? It could be that. But, perhaps more apropos, I've definitely been on the losing end of unrequited love so that's not a feeling that i'd like to re-visit. Ever.

1.Suddenly realizing that your clothes have, for reasons unbeknownst to you, have left your body at the precise moment you realize you farted at a staff meeting of over 100 other co-workers. While giving a presentation. On the declining size of the black male member.

2. Walking across the graduation stage, slipping into the arms of the president of the college, stumbling over him, standing up and realizing that you're pitching a tent that's poking out of your gown. In front of everyone.

These things would suck tremendously. Truly moments that no one could, conceivably, find an easy recovery from. Nothing sucks...is more embarrassing... than loving someone who's so obviously in love with someone else or just simply, doesn't love you back. This movie brought some of that back in me.

What was truly heartbreaking is how tragic the story is. Can anyone truly be happy? Is that the point? Is there some expiration date on contentment in life? Is utter happiness such a pure and combustible substance that it immolates itself quickly and without any real idea of knowing how long till the fuel gives out? Must the situation resolve itself by separating the couple in some overly dramatic and equally tragic way?

It's really fucked up to see people who are obviously madly in love with one another go time without being with one another. But then again, it begs the question of what happens after happily ever after? How does Charming feel when Cinderella go from a size 0 to a size 10? How does Aurora feel when Charming lose the gait that made her shiver all those years ago? Is that the point? In order to preserve the beauty of the love two people who are madly in love with one another, must they keep each other at extreme arms length so that the love shared doesn't succumb to reality? And woe to them should they throw caution to the wind and actually acknowledge their burning passion for one another by making each other honest. Is it an author/filmmaker's intention to keep love clean so that it can't be sullied by the possibility that despite love at first sight, as we age, we tend to go blind, need glasses and ultimately run the risk of losing our sight altogether?

The cynic in me sees this as a cautionary tale. The romantic (which I thought actually didn't really exist) is so moved that even after the films conclusion, he still weeps tears of joy and goes home to watch the trailer, all the while counting down the days till it's released on DVD.

This morning

Meg and I were driving to work this morning to work while listening to NPR. The sky is overcast. Light drizzle covers the windshield in just enough moisture to warrant the occasional wiper blade sweep. We’re driving in two lane traffic on a road that follows the river, which is to our left. With spring peeking its head around the corner, I can see leaves on trees trying to make their case for life. A warm voice croons over the radio about a recent law being passed in Iowa that will make it a criminal offense for undercover environmental activists to release secretly taken pictures and videos of farm abuses, particularly poultry, swine and cattle. As the story concludes, Meg turns to me and says that she’s bothered by that last report. I ask her why. Unexpectedly, she tells me that the radio announcer’s voice is way too sexy to be giving news like this. I chuckle lightly to myself and ask her what she means. She repeats that, in her opinion, the voice discussing the living conditions of poultry on mass production farms is way too sexy. In her mind, I guess, when you’re giving bad news, you shouldn’t have a voice that sultry. I feel that it’s just NPR’s attempt to soften the blow. Meg, on the other hand, feels otherwise. Using a husky & breathy voice, while mocking NPR’s Kathleen Masterson, she quips “yeah, these chickens are being abused, but I’ll still suck your dick.” I’m now laughing uncontrollably at her interpretation of Morning Report. Meg continues by saying that it’s like Kathleen’s telling you something this awful news, but is taking her clothes off simultaneously.
We’re both cracking up. She turns to me how much she hates how immature I am. She also reminds me of how often I crack up at previews for this new show Comedy Central called “Workaholics” and how much she hates it. In the scene, one of three guys is sitting in his office in a grizzly bear jacket fit with pseudo-bear paws and a hood with bear ears on top. He’s surrounded by his friends. Then, while pumping his “paws” out back and forth, like a very wack rapper from the 80’s, says “bitch, betta have my honey”. I’m ashamed by how funny I find this, yet I also find myself on the floor, cracking up for at least 2 minutes. Meg, clearly annoyed with my laughing, rolls her eyes and walks out of the room.

I love the fact that she gave me this gem of a one liner to blog. I told her that I would blog about it later this morning after I got to work. Thanks Meg.

After a 10 month hiatus, I decided that I should update my blog rather than do work that desperately needs to be done. Consider yourselves lucky that finding affordable housing for low income folks is currently taking the back burner to updating you on my life.

I'm going to write a novel.

What this book will be called is anyone's guess.

Maybe that's a good name of vampire novel set in a fictional medieval continent?

Shame may prevent me from actually using my given name as the author. I'm currently thinking of a solid nom de plume.

Part of me wants it to be funny. Another part of me wants it to draw you in. There is a disturbingly large part of me that wants to show you how much of a pervert I really am. Then again, the side of me that wants to show readers how much of a pervert and all around disagreeable person I am is warring with the side of me that desires approval from all around him. All of me wants it not to suck.

It takes years to write books. The last thing that you would think someone with as severe ADHD as me would do is be disciplined enough to write a... SQUIRREL...novel.

Additionally, I feel that I have not read nearly enough literature to justify writing something of value.

There is large portion in me that fears seeing what is in my head on paper. Worse yet, knowing that what's on paper is actually being read, critiqued, laughed at, disgusted by and enjoyed by others. The ideas floating around in there should probably remain there. Or plastered to my therapists figurative walls. Either or. It seems that in my past, revealing how I feel has not always been met with the best of results. In fact, it's made things worse. This makes me feel worse. Aren't we all told that we should be more open about how feel?

No.

This is a very bad idea.

The only people that should hear how you honestly feel about anything should have letters after their name and should be qualified to hear the conversation. Or maybe that's just me.

Wow. Going back and reading what I just wrote makes me seem much more upset, jaded and self deprecating than I actually am.

I really just want to write a book and I'm having some trouble getting started.