I sleep in the movie theatre. It's not intentional, it must be the light or something, or uncertainty about my new career, but no matter what I wake up at 8.30. Last night I got to bed at around 4.30, and sure enough at 8.30 I was awake.

There's a documentary film festival going on, so some movies are good for sleeping. The chairs are comfortable enough, I take off my shoes and snuggle into the seat.

The other day I was with my friend and I had a déjà vu. It was kind of a long one, almost a full minute, and I decided to not say what I was supposed to say, as scripted by the déjà vu. Afterwards we talked about it and I told him that I changed the future.

The next day I was in the movie theatre, getting ready for another session of documentaries and wondering which ones I would sleep through. A guy sat next to me, and some time later, after I took off my headphones, he asked me, do you frequent documentary films? Yes, I try, I replied. He said, maybe you'd be interested to check out my film. It's about déjà vus. You know, that phenomenon when you feel like you are seeing something again, even though it is actually your first time in that situation?

Yes, I said, I know it very well. I have them frequently. I just had a déjà vu yesterday!

I couldn't find the right words in Portuguese to tell him I had also changed the future. I'm ear-high in milk thistle tea and kale. Delicious.

One of the things the websites say to do is "eat less" and I get the point but if I eat less, I might lose more weight. My mother, however, has commanded me not to lose more weight. I think I have to eat whole avocados at intervals throughout the day.

One day some time ago I went to an accupuncturist M_____'s mother's sister-in-law recommended. It was in one of those buildings in Chinatown that you can't see the enterance to, because there are competing grocery stands out front. Inside, beyond the doorman in the lobby, it is a maze of Chinese optometrists, Chinese tax attorneys, and yes, Chinese accupuncturists.

I waited a long time to see the doctor and then he stuck syringe-size needles into my delicate skin. The needles were attached to machines that slightly rotated them, presumably so I'd get the most benefit. The whole time I thought of World War II and mistreatment of prisoners.

I went back to have this "treatment" a few more times, but I brought headphones to make the torture more bearable. Every time I came to see the doctor, I waited between one and two hours. Those hours were spent in a room of people sitting very still in tall chairs with upright backs, staring at a huge TV screen which played voilent movies. After that, I almost welcomed the needles.

The third or fourth time, I asked the girls at the front desk, "what is the earliest I can make an appointment? I can't spend hours waiting."
-- "The first appointment is 11.30."
-- "Great, I'd like to make an appointment for 11.30. Will I see the doctor at 11.30?" (I just asked to make sure because I'm dealing with people who play violent movies at the accupuncturist's)
-- "The doctor comes at 1pm."
-- "So can I make an appointment at 1pm?"
-- "Yes but the people who have been waiting since 11.30 get to see the doctor first."

The last time I went to see the accupuncturist in the office building on Mott Street behind the two grocery stores, I arrived at around 12.30. I didn't see the accupuncturist until about 3.45. I missed lunch and a meeting, texted everyone I knew, swore in different languages, yelled at the staff, and finally called my mother. Even mothers know their limits sometimes. She didn't tell me not to lose any more weight. I got a new phone so I am erasing all those messages I like to have with me in case I end up bored on the subway.

-> J: You may be happy to know that the bus was hell on earth this afternoon. In fact, i'm still on it! Thank god i slept through a lot of it. Enjoy the weekend!

-> M: AAARGHHH!!! I just shot a whole roll and there was nothing in the camera.

-> D: Guggenheim is better when you're drunk! We just saw this room with inflated pig stomachs or something!

<- D: Yes, let's capitalize on the obvious and open a museum with a bar.

-> S: I'm hanging out at my house listening to moroccan music with my sister.

-> D: This date... This is hell on earth. Don't call me till later though...

<- P: casa tu compaña un beso

<- M: Go because life is too short not to enjoy

<- M: I got a kids huffy from kmart haha

-> R: There was almost just a fight in trader joe's. Two people were banging carts, and in typical ny fasion, a random guy pulled out his PD badge & broke it up!

And some overheard stuff:

"I'm a product of Brooklyn"

"I made spam sandwiches cut into circles & they were elegant." I am going through my records and generally organizing my life. I'm finding all sorts of emails that I never replied to, but genuinely wanted to. Now it has been years. Am I allowed to delete them? Or will they continue to sit in my inbox? They are markings of my shame.

I want to be released from this one-sided covenant.

(I just erased one. It's a start) This is a series of hi-larious text message exchanges with the evil "contractor", aka "artist" whom I hired to do some construction in my house... which he fucked up beyond belief.

This SMS I received after I told him to get his tools and materials and leave, because the house was uninhabitable and I was not about to pay him for wrecking it.

"It cost me over 400 dollars yesterday to start your job. You gave me nothing. I offered to clean up at cost even if you did the cleaning. And take it out of the job money. Now I am out a lot of money. You don't cair. This is the type of things that are going on in the city. Now I have to borrow money to pay my cell phone bill. So if you think about it homeless people are homeless because they don't want to deal with work or bills. There is no trust left in the big apple."
-- 05.08.2008 15:18:27

After a long series of exchanges via phone, he still didn't do what we agreed on. I wrote to him:

"Dan, you left the shovel & light. I also can't find where you put the keys. Please let me know where they are, and how i can get you your stuff."
-- 5.14.2008 7.55.41

He responded:

"A mongoloid attempted to beat me up on the a train. He put a babushka in my hand and said give up your keys. Now I haven't any keys but I have a realy cool hat. By the way that hat I now have cost me 400 bux. And a russian dude has your keys.o well.
-- 5.14.2008 22:13:04

"I will pick up my stuff when I have the money to do so. You basically ripped me off. It cost me 400 dollars that day and you did not give me a dime. I haven't any cash on hand to yet hire someone to help me return the plaster nor a man with a van to get the rest of my stuff. You have no guilt about not paying for my losses. Carma will bite you in the ass everytime. You can not breathe that crap in.it will give you cancer. You have told me and won't let me clean the mess. I will pick up my stuff when they reopen your bulding"
-- 05.15.2008 11.45.36

The series ends with the following:

"Fuck you"
-- 06.10.2008 10.21.28

Oh yeah, asshole. Real mature. Let's just get the major ones out of the way: I have an annoying houseguest. I have construction going on in my house. I'm battling with the Department of Sanitation. Really, this is not a good time.

All those things I am willing to get over. It's the minor ones that start to really drive me insane:

This morning, I forgot my lunch. I not only forgot it, but I left it out to spoil on the counter.

That was a damn expensive dinner last night. I was hoping at least it wouldn't seem so expensive if I took half to lunch.

I checked my email hoping to receive great news, jokes... you know, the usual. Instead, I got an accusatory email from a friend.

After that, I got into the shower, turned it on, and found out we had no hot water.

At work, I ate way too much candy and spent half the day fixing something someone else broke. My headphones are busted so I am probably going deaf in my left ear.

To top it all off, the weather was terrible. I dreamt that I was trying to communicate in three languages, all of which I don't really know well enough. The problem is that I am actively learning one, and when I try to speak in either French or Hebrew, it comes out in Spanish. I guess this is positive, because it means my Spanish is improving.

It took me a while to realise that it was a dream. I kept trying to remember whom I was speaking to, who knew both French and Hebrew, and English of course.

The last time I spoke French was when I had a French acquaintance staying at my house. He found it rather "charming", which was my cue to shut up, or "callarse", as they say in Spanish.

Anyway, my French is okay if we stay in the present tense, and the conversation revolves around simple topics, like sleeping, eating, walking, or being able (can-ing).

Necessity.
Idiocy and other virtues.

ennui without order

• bike snob NYC
• ultraclay
• a tam in australia
• new york hack
• mikebot
• eurotrash
• this fish needs a bicycle
• on the face
• spicy children
• myasorubka
• massive red-eye
• jewschool
• malapoesia
• patently silly
• waiter rant

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