I Gotta Go!

2006-10-06T12:11:00.000-07:00

I am about to make a come back! I swear.

2006-07-06T08:49:00.000-07:00

This blog is on hiatus until the weather turns cold and I am stuck inside. Until then have a great summer.

My Blood

2006-06-22T08:53:00.000-07:00

A few years ago my mom told my dad that he couldn't smoke in the living room or have complete control of the channel changer. These two things are very important to my dad. So they made the garage into "Josh's living room". When you go from one room to the other there is a piece of tape that says to "Josh's world" with an arrow and on the other side it says to "Susan's world" with an arrow. They also had two separate phone lines. My parents are both pretty anti-social so the need for two phone lines was really a waste of money since neither phone is ringing. But what I found funny is that the only phone calls they would get would be from each other.

ring. ring.

Josh: (On the phone)Bunny, turn it to channel 24. It's a special on Rush and his addiction.

Susan: Ok.

Josh: I gotta go. (click)

Two minutes later. Ring. Ring.

Susan: (On the phone)You know Josh I just can't believe how addictive that stuff is. You know I knew someone who was on it for something and the same thing happened to them.

Josh: Bunny, you're boring me I gotta go. (Click)

1 minute later. Ring. Ring.

Susan: Hello

Josh: Did Billy come over today?

Susan: Yes.

Josh: Oh man, I am going to kill him. He ate all of my ice cream sandwiches! Bunny why didn't you hide them?

Susan: I'll get you some more.

Josh: You're boring me I gotta go!

All I have to say is our house is not large.

I just got back from Florida and noticed some changes. My mom and dad no longer watch tv except for American Idol. They argue over who is the best singer and yes they both vote. My dad stopped smoking in the house and so now my mom is in Josh's world all the time. They have a large desk with two computers back to back. They no longer call each other on the phone instead they IM. They both have a slight addiction to message boards. My mom likes a Russel Crowe message board that she swears has nothing to do with Russel Crowe.
"We get in all kinds of debates about politics and really important issues. There just happens to be a Russel Crowe Link." She also says

Mom: I'm not posting there anymore!

Holly: Why Mom.

Mom: Well, one of my cyber friends got kicked off because they were pretending to be someone else and so I stopped posting to stand up for my cyber friend. I am protesting him being kicked off. It's just wrong Holly!"

My dad is addicted to a trucking message board. It's a message board for truck drivers. He gets in a lot of fights in the message boards. You can tell he is getting mad at another truck driver because his face gets really serious and he is typing really loudly. He then talks about his fights over dinner.

"BigRig101 told me I didn't know what I was talking about when I told him how to fix the AC. So I told BigRig101 that I never claimed to be a God Damn mechanic and I told him he's not a fucking truck driver he's a Steering Wheel Holder...oh man did I tell him. Oh boy I bet he was fuming."

When my dad is in a more playful mood he posts things like "I love my wife but she has a bit of a weight problem." And then he attaches a photo of a 600lb woman and really plays along with it and gets the truckers to believe that is his wife.

That is my blood and that is the end of my story.

Me and My Band (not really).

2006-06-06T16:49:00.000-07:00

A Brooklyn Oasis.

2006-05-31T10:25:00.000-07:00

Photo's by Michael Stout

2006-05-26T07:48:00.000-07:00

Know Your Place Woman.

2006-05-25T07:25:00.000-07:00

If anyone needs to get out of the city and get out quick then go to Harriman State Park. Harriman is 36 miles outside New York City and a small paradise. I had wanted to go camping and couldn't decide between Harriman State Park, The Catskills, or The Adirondacks. Harriman was the winner because of the distance. I was hesitant driving there because I found it hard to believe that door to door nature was only 45 minutes away. I was imagining a park full of city slickers and ghetto kids on field trips. A park where you have to lock up your lantern and quiet time being around 1am. A mini-Manhattan in the woods.

I was wrong.

We pulled up to the rangers station and asked if we could check out the campsites before we chose one. We proceeded to drive through a virtually empty campground. The sites were our oyster. We cautiously drove evaluating each site on a scale of 1-10. We found that Section A, B, and C lacked privacy, even though we were the only ones in the campground. But the E and W section was private and secluded. I am telling you all of this in case you would like to camp there one day. If you are anything like me and hate camping on top of other people then these sites will come in handy for reserving. E 20, W 21, W 23, and W 19 are the ones that scored highest.

The first night we set up our site, made steaks, and opened the wine. We sat around a very impressive fire. A fire my friend Shannon made from nothing. She meticulously placed different sized and shaped wood in very specific areas. I am always impressed with someone who can build a fire without any help. It's the one thing I just don't understand. Maybe it is how I was raised. I would try and try as a kid to build a fire and then be abruptly interrupted by my father.
"Get out of the way Holly and let me show you how a real man makes a fire!"

My dad would then continue to pour gasoline over the fire, finish his cigarette, and then throw it in. Poof! There was our fire. Just like that.

We then decided to have a fire ceremony. Correct me if I am wrong but I think it's almost mandatory as a lesbian to have a fire ceremony and listen to the Indigo Girls while camping. We had this ceremony where we had to say out loud the negative thoughts we wanted to dispose of. We then proceeded to burn something of significance while gulping wine out of tin cups, as the significant item burned we talked about the things we wanted to resolve. I generally make fun of things like this. Rituals in general sort of creep me out but for some reason this particular ceremony worked. I walked away from it feeling cleansed.

The next morning I awoke feeling rejuvenate and ready to start the day. I got up to what I thought was about 8 am. Started the fire and made coffee. I woke up Shannon to show her how great my fire was. She tried her best at showing enthusiasm before asking what time it was. I told her to get up because it was probably 8am and we should really start the day. She insisted to know the time before getting out of her warm sleeping bag and into the crisp morning air.

"fine, I'll look. (waiting for cell phone to turn on)...5:45 am...Oh."

After breakfast we drove through the mountains enjoying the sun, music and scenery. We hiked 5 miles in the Sterling Forest where I realized I have a deep rooted fear of mountain lions and poison ivy. I watched Shannon jump in the water and then I did. It was the coldest water I have ever felt. After all of that we headed to Wal-Mart because...well do I really need to say why. I mean it was Super Wal-Mart! We also began talking with a southern accent that is still existing in my voice. I don't know what it is about camping and the desire to obtain a southern drawl. Because not only do I have a southern accent while camping I also use phrases like "Mind me now" or "know your place woman".

All in all we had an amazing time and everyone who likes camping or hiking should check out Harriman State Park.

2006-05-18T21:37:00.000-07:00

I think I would like to have a kid one day. I think I have low gene esteem. I would want my one day partner to have it. Or maybe adopt a nice crack baby.

I've Died Twice

2006-05-16T18:45:00.000-07:00

I've died twice.
The first time I died I was twenty-one years old and living in Jacksonville, Florida. I had had a small New York break down and wanted to live at home for awhile. I was in the car when I found out I had died.
Radio Announcer: Twenty-one year old Holly Sheppard was found murdered in a Motel 6 on the Southside of Jacksonville earlier this morning. Police say she was a prostitute and had picked up a fugitive wanted in raping a young woman two years prior.
Here was a girl in my town, with my name, my age, and she even had similar facial features to me. Murdered. A prostitute. And everyone thought it was me.
While in the car hearing about my death my best friends mom called my best friend hysterically crying.
" did you hear what happened to Holly. OH GOD...I can't believe she is dead"

"mom, Holly isn't dead she is right next to me. We're on our way to the mall."

My bestfriend since first grades mother thinks I was turning tricks and was murdered. To this day when I go to Jacksonville for a visit I will run into people who thought I was dead. Boo! I am always surprised at how unphased they seem when they realize I'm not. It's kind of downer when you see how the world goes on living when you're dead.

The second time I died.
I was a myspace junkie and wrote a farewell letter to my friends before I canceled my membership. It is the letter I published on my blog yesterday. On myspace there is a place where you can add a bulletin. And everyone you know will get this bulletin. It has the subject and when you click on the subject you read the body of the letter. Well my subject was "To Those Who Knew Me". When I canceled my membership it canceled everything except the subject "To Those Who Knew Me". When my friends would click on it, it would say "Holly Sheppard is no longer a member."
I have had one phone call concerning my thought to be suicide note. One. It was my boss. Another realization of how anti-climatic my death will be.

My Good Bye Letter to myspace.

2006-05-15T21:05:00.000-07:00

Dear Friends,
I am writing to say goodbye to you. I am addicted to myspace and must quit this demon cold turkey. I am similar to a heroine addict. I wake up in the middle of the night just to get my fix. I started itching and hearing voices and got a strange twitch that involved a lot of blinking when I lost my internet connection. I can't go on like this. I used to do things...I used to want to be somebody....now I'm just a my space junkie. And the only way to fix this is to cancel my account. The shakes are happening right now...oh God...they'll pass...I can do this! I'm gonna get my life back.

To those I will never speak to again due to the lack of myspace connection...Good Bye.

And to those whose roots are deeper than myspace...call me.

HOW MY SPACE DESTROYED MY LIFE!

2006-05-12T11:55:00.000-07:00

I can't seem to write anymore. This demon called myspace takes up all of my time and creative efforts. I wake up and instead of going to my blog or journal and writing something, I go to myspace and see if anyone wants to be my friend or if anyone has left a witty comment. What has happened to me? I must develope discipline. This myspace is odd and destroying my life.
I will start with the people who find you. Who are they? Every other day I have a new friend request and I have no idea who they are. I want to "not approve" them as my friend but then I see they went to the same high school as me and we graduated the same year and suddenly I feel like I would be a mean person not to approve them. But I didn't know them in Spanish 101 and I don't know them now.
A childhood friend from the trailer park found me. She said..."Oh GRRRL! Wachya doin on here. Yus gotz to come bac to da hood and shit and meet my manz". What is a manz?
And then the surveys. People do surveys all day and then post them. And then I actually read them. Why is this happening to me? Why do I waste time reading these surveys of people I didn't know in Spanish 101?
1. What color shirt are you wearing? Red

2. What was your last text message? See you at the beach!

Those are the kinds of questions asked. This would be the part where I say why are you wasting time filling this shit out? Do you really think we care? But I am the one fucking reading it!
GOD SAVE ME!!!! WEAN ME OFF!!!! SOMETHING!!!!!

Park Slope and Prospect Park BROOKLYN!

2006-05-04T10:30:00.000-07:00

I Am In Love...

2006-05-04T09:04:00.000-07:00

I Am In Love…
I have fallen in love with Brooklyn. I live here. I work here. I rarely leave here.

My small tribute to why Brooklyn is my new home for awhile.

I love that when I walk down the street there are trees.

I love that I am surrounded by beautiful brownstones.

I love that I can go fishing in the park. Yes, it’s true you can fish in the park. Its catch and release and I am going this weekend.

I love that I can lie on my hammock and look up and see three different trees (one with pink flowers, one with red leaves, and one with white flowers).

I love that on Saturdays the streets are filled with little kids in soccer and baseball uniforms.

I love that I can find three waterfalls in Prospect Park.

I love that Brooklyn feels like a small town but Manhattan is only 15 minutes away.

I love the Tea Lounge.

I love that I can ride my bike to Coney Island.

I love all of the stoop sales, the flea markets, and the farmers market on Saturday and Sunday.

I love that when I walk down the street I say hi to my neighbors and they say hi back.

I love Brooklyn. CHEST POUND!

Did I really need another addiction?

2006-04-25T08:33:00.000-07:00

If you are wondering why I haven’t written in awhile I have one answer for you. www.myspace.com.

Here is the definition of myspace.

Warning: The definition of my space must be read aloud and in a high pitched sing song voice.

“MySpace is an online community that lets you meet your friends' friends. Create a private community on MySpace and you can share photos, journals and interests with your growing network of mutual friends! See who knows who, or how you are connected. Find out if you really are six people away from Kevin Bacon.”

Everyone I know is on myspace so I decided it was time for me to make 109 friends and join. You may think 109 friends are a lot of friends but not on my space. You’re not even considered community until you have 237 friends. I hope to achieve that number one day, until then I will just look at my 32 friends and think to myself, “Self, are these people really my friends”?

Another thing I find interesting is the name. Myspace. When I am online I am not looking at myspace. I don’t care about my space; I am looking at everyone else’s space. I am searching for Joe Blow to see if he finally turned gay after high school (he did) and if Sandra Mcfuckinfandra is still hot (she’s not and she has a baby and maybe a husband who beats her).

I was at a friend’s house the other day and she said it perfectly. She turned to me with a mischievous look and said “Hey man, you wanna internet stalk?” That is exactly what myspace is, its permission to stare and gawk and be nosey at all the people you think are hot, cool or weird. I highly recommend it in moderation.

Here is my definition of myspace.

“ MySpace is and online cult that lets you stalk your friends’ friends.”

am i too old to have that bike?

2006-04-19T06:46:00.000-07:00

Things I did on Easter. In order.

2006-04-18T16:01:00.000-07:00

Woke up with the worst hangover of my life.

Told everyone who slept over at 7 am that I was having the worst hangover of my life.

Reflected on what my sister had said during her visit. “Holly, aren’t you a bit old to still be having sleepovers?” As I looked at my friends who were sleeping over.

I lost my voice and sounded similar to Janis Joplin (at least I thought I did, my friends did not) and it’s really cool to have a voice like Janis Joplin so I just kept telling everyone I was hung over so I could hear myself talk like Janis Joplin. Around 7:30ish I started to sing Bobby McGee. I think it sounded just like Janis Joplin. Again, friends disagreed.

Around 9ish I was paid to go get eggs and soda. When I got back I made pancakes and eggs and the friends got up and we ate breakfast in my almost beautiful “as soon as everything blooms” backyard.

That was nice.

Then we cleaned my apartment because I had had an impromptu bbq the night before and my apartment was a mess and I am surprisingly clean since living alone.

Around 11ish we hopped on our bikes and went to heaven…or Prospect Park. It’s close to heaven for sure. After riding for awhile we hopped off the bikes and had a mini photo shoot with my almost famous photographer friend.

Then we climbed a tree.

That was nice.

Then we went to North Meadow or Long Meadow or some kind of meadow and sat on a blanket and talked about how annoying my voice was.

(SIDE NOTE: I am outside a café in Brooklyn and some woman just walked by and told me Jesus is coming again.)

Then I heard sirens and was convinced they were for my apartment because I knew I had forgot to turn off the stove even though I have a sign on my door that says “HOLLY TURN OFF YOUR STOVE” So I rode my bike home real quick to see that it wasn’t on fire and packed a lunch for all of us and went back to the park.

Then we left the park and went back to my place and hung out on the hammock.

(SIDE NOTE: The lady just walked by again and told me Jesus was coming and that I should get ready. So I guess I will end this and go put on some make up.)

Then they left and I did my taxes for the fourth time and somehow only owed $180 to state rather than a $1000 like the three times before. And was very happy and went to sleep at 8pm.

I loved my Easter.

Good Times, Good Times

2006-04-07T06:03:00.000-07:00

My mom and sister are visiting me. This was a conversation that happened over lunch.

Mexican Man: NO TICKET! NO BURGER!

Haley: Holly, what do I do? They won’t give me my burger because I can’t find my ticket with my number on it.

Holly: Well where is it?

Haley: I don’t know…I don’t think the cashier gave it to me.

Holly: Excuse me but my sister just ordered a burger and can’t find her ticket…so what do we do?

A young Mexican man just stares at me

Holly: Sir….Sir…what do we do? She doesn’t have her ticket.

Mexican man does not acknowledge me.

Holly: CAN YOU PLEASE LOOK AT ME! PLEASE! SIR!

Mexican man looks but more in a dazed stare rather than a look of concern.

Holly: ARE YOU LIKE NOT GOING TO GIVE HER THE BURGER OR WHAT DUDE BECAUSE I WOULD LIKE TO KNOW WHAT I AM WORKING WITH HERE!

Two minutes later.

Holly: God what a fucking Jerk!

Mom: Holly can you get me a side of mayo?

Haley: Yea Holly can you get more napkins?

Mom: Wow, this burger is really good.

Haley: Are we going to go to H and M soon or what?

Holly: Sometimes living here makes me so ang…(face turning red…lump forming in throat) ry that I feel like killing someone (tears come falling down my face).

Silence.

Mom: Holly are you crying because you are mad at the guy who didn’t want to give Haley her burger or because deep down you might want to kill someone?

AND SCENE.

I found peace in Lowe's Hardware

2006-04-01T21:08:00.000-08:00

I found peace inside of Lowe’s the other day. I find peace there a lot. I sometimes find it in Target too, and the 7/11 on 23rd St. Sometimes I go to the 7/11 on 23^rd street and get a fountain coke. I roam around admiring the fluorescent lighting and the candy isle with all the different twizzlers. I check out the different types of Beef Jerky and new flavors of gator aide.

When I am in Lowe’s I hang out with Ray in paints. He’s really nice and likes to talk about painting and the new line of colors Lowe’s is offering. When Ray isn’t around I hang out with Darren. Darren is about 6’2 and 150 lbs. He has a hunch back and something that moves from lip to lip when he talks. Darren always tells me he’s new at Lowe’s and he doesn’t know where anything is. He’s been new for about three months now. I wonder if he’ll ever be old.

These stores fill me with peace and joy because they make me feel normal. It’s almost like disappearing for awhile. Suddenly every worry you had has been dropped at the automatic door and your thoughts are now consumed with either buying the pink laundry basket or the blue one.

My Morning of Train Profiling

2006-03-28T18:00:00.000-08:00

I got on the Q train during rush hour. It was crammed and I hadn’t had coffee yet. It was ugly but I was late and had to get on. I did something I have never done before. I looked for someone who was Asian and sitting down. I then knocked through people to get near them. Why? Because Canal Street (Chinatown) was coming up and I thought the odds were in my favor that they would get up and I would score a seat. Then I wondered if this is how racial profiling happens. And then I wondered if I was a racist? And then I thought no way am I racist because I am a lesbian. And I don’t think lesbians are able to be racist. But maybe I was prejudiced? And then I wondered if that was just as bad? I began to justify the situation by putting myself in the Asians position and realized that train profiling is different than racial profiling. Then I looked down and saw they were gone, they got off at Canal Street and I got their seat.

2006-03-22T19:22:00.000-08:00

My mother loves to tell me how “special” I am. My acting teacher is consistently telling me how special I am. “Holly you’re very special”. Every time I do a scene…” Holly you are just so special… One day someone is going to realize just how special you are.” The other day I was in an audition and the casting director enthusiastically told me “how special” I was. “I always love having you audition…you’re just so special…the role isn’t right for you after all but boy are you special.” I have decided with the amount of the word “special” being directed at me that I think it’s just a polite way of telling me I am retarded.

I wish you were there.

2006-03-17T16:18:00.000-08:00

I love those moments that stay with you forever. Incredible moments that no matter how hard you try to retell no one will ever know what it was like unless they were there. I was thinking of one the other day and am going to share it. I will try and take you there but I won’t come close.

It takes place in the Smokey Mountain National Park. I had been away from my family for far too long and we were all together again. The most important people in my life my mom, my dad, my sister, niece and my brother (-in-law). My mom and dad were up front while the rest of us rode in the back. Sitting in the back of that truck with wind against my skin reminded me of my childhood. Being a kid with tangled hair, chocolate usually around my mouth, my sister by my side, the moon shining on our faces and my mom and dad up front. I loved being a kid so I was in love with this moment. I had been stuck in New York and was feeling like I was smelling green for the first time in my life. It was dusk in Cades Cove. Cades Cove is a part of the National Park, it’s this massive valley where the settlers used to live. When FDR bought the park he allowed everyone to live the rest of their lives in Cades Cove but afterwards their houses and land were donated to the park. It is now a nine mile loop with about fifteen abandoned old cabins and churches. The wildlife in Cades Cove is abundant; wolves, coyote, bear, and deer are just a few of the animals you can see roaming freely. It was October and chilly and the sky was orange and Haley, Billy, Amelia and me were all bundled under a blanket listening to katydids and grasshoppers, watching fireflies and looking for a bear.

My dad decided to pull over onto this dirt road that was deserted to get away from the other tourist and wait for the night. We all got out of the truck and saw the moon coming over the mountain. And then we heard wolves howling. I had never seen a moon like this in my life. When we got out of the truck and looked at the mountains nothing was there. And then suddenly this moon appeared and kept coming and coming and I swear to this day I really think that moon looked as big as the mountain. We saw the moon rise while wolves howled and there was a chill in the air and I thought I could have touched it.

a play...

2006-03-14T18:14:00.001-08:00

My friend Shannon and I were bored and found a one page playwriting contest on-line. We brainstormed and this is what we have come up with. It may not be Shakespeare but it sure was fun to us. It is always fun to drink coffee at night in some poets cafe in Brooklyn and write a one page play with a good old friend. Wouldn't it be cool if we won?

Little Rock, an obese boy of twelve, leans against a fire escape, smoking. He turns to the audience. A very bright light shines on him.

Little Rock: She was an old woman, with all of the emotional and intellectual accoutrement of the aged. She was learned. Bitter. Loud. From the time I entered this world, she matched me wail for wail.

(Little Rock begins to search, unsuccessfully, through his pockets for his packet of lifesavers)

She had an understanding possessed only by the urban and the sad: a reverence for the divinity of physical things—the sort which, in ringing Cathedrals on rainy Sundays, honors the bread above the body.

Lights up.

Little Rock: Mom!! I can’t find my lifesavers!!

Millie (entering the kitchen): Well, Goddammit, Little Rock, go and find them!

Little Rock: Don’t goddammit *me*, ma!

Rocco (offstage): What’s he yelling about?

Millie: His lifesavers!

Rocco: His what?

Millie: His lifesavers.

Rocco: His what?

Millie: He can’t find his goddamned lifesavers!!

Rocco: How did he get Lifesavers?

Millie: I bought them for him Rock. He wanted a lifesaver.

Rocco: Well where are the Lifesavers.

Millie: Rock—

Rocco: What?

Millie: --where the fuck did you drop your Lifesavers? When was the last time you had a Lifesaver?

Little Rock(Overlapping):

I didn’t *drop* them, for Christ’s sake, I *lost* them! Outside.

Rocco: Just get the kid some new lifesavers. Jesus. Little Rock.

Little Rock: What?

Rocco: You’re giving your mother a hernia.

Millie: He’s not giving me a hernia, he’s giving me an ulcer. He loses the gifts I give him.

Little Rock (overlapping): I don’t lose gifts!!

Millie: Why am I gonna buy him new lifesavers when he’s not even going to fucking bother to hold on to the old ones?

Little Rock: I didn’t lose gifts! I lost lifesavers!

Millie (suddenly somber): Lifesavers are a gift, Rock.

Rocco: What?

Millie: I’m talking to Little Rock!! Lifesavers are a gift, Rock. Lifesavers are a gift.

Lights down. Bright light shining on Little Rock.

Little Rock : And so it would go. She would die, later, of a heroine overdose—forever faithful to the transcendent power of the physical world. The gifts strewn about us: a crooked gate. A sidewalk. A lifesaver. (Rocco puts his hand in his pocket, finds, to his surprise, the packet of lifesavers, looks to the audience, and with a combination of conspiratorial happiness and rue, he smiles.)

The End.

A One Page Play by Shannon Brennon and Holly Sheppard.

My First Blog

2006-03-07T15:43:00.000-08:00

I recently found out that my new landlords are junkies. They live above me, closed up, in what I would imagine to be infested with cigarettes, fleas and dirty clothes. I couldn’t tell you factually because I’ve never seen the inside. I came close once, giving them my rent. The door was cracked and I peeked in but the still pit bull that lived inside didn’t allow me too long of a peek. And the silent boy they call their son saw me look. He had a sad moment of shame when we made eye contact. I felt bad for him and saw his future in a blink. He was just like his father. Sweet, sad, and no hope of going anywhere. Just another excuse being molded for future excuses.
Rocco is my landlord’s name. Rocco is about five feet 6 inches tall and weighs about 135 lbs. He has curly grey hair, about two teeth and a very hefty adams apple. He’s fearfully soft spoken and his eyes will tell you a very sad story, a sad story with no ending. Rocco likes me a lot. He says I am family. He tells me I am the best tenant they’ve ever had. He told me he saw a photo of me as a blonde and that I should go back to that hair color. He likes to give me champagne glasses that are dusty and filled with cobwebs that he found in the basement. Rocco believes they were his mother and fathers glasses. Real crystal he tells me. After he says I am family and gives me the dirty, chipped, real crystal champagne glasses he wonders if he could have a couple of bucks.
Milly is Rocco’s common law wife. Milly has mouse brown hair, thick glasses, fair skin and an extremely high pitched voice. She smiles a lot, and moves nervously from side to side when talking. Milly also likes to give me things. Broken things. A stereo with one speaker, one glove, a hair dryer that smokes, and wonton chips with a packet of terryaki sauce. Oh and my first hair cut is supposedly on her, don’t worry, she tells me she is very good. She tells me if the cops ever knock on my door looking for her, then to just say I don’t know her. And never let them in!
Rocco Jr. is unlike his father. He is 12 years old and about 5’4”, weighing at least 170 lbs. I heard Rocco and Milly talk of a son. They said he was “loud on his feet” and if I ever heard him then let them know. The weird thing was I only ever heard Milly. After a while I started to think they didn’t have a son. It was a lie. Then one day I heard a young boy, soft spoken like his father lovingly yell “Daddy”. Or maybe it wasn’t lovingly, maybe it was hauntingly. Either way this “son?” was alive.
I have been wondering lately if this landlord of mine really does own this property. Maybe I am living in an abandoned building inhabited by two squatters and a kid, posing as people who once saved enough money to put a down payment on a house. Half of me wants to leave this dysfunction and the other New York half of me realizes what I have. What do I have? Parlor floor of a brownstone, about 800 sq ft, amazing location, private back yard, really cheap rent and a landlord who doesn’t care what I do.
I was hoping this last move would be the beginning of stability and a foundation for focusing on my future. It was my starting over. I had put a lot of weight on this move and was saddened to realize it’s just another apartment in another part of the city, with another lousy landlord, that will one day permit me to tell a good story. It’s wasn’t my home after all. Not even close. My first awareness of this made me sad. But then I started to think. Maybe not having a home or a realistic idea of my future isn’t such a bad thing right now. I think I am where I am supposed to be. I’m not afraid of doing new things. Never have been. And not knowing where I am going is kind of nice. I’m not stuck. It’s a soon to be adventure, a conquest to live, a new face to become familiar. All of which will lead to my home. Until then I’ll just keep telling stories.