Flyer, Flyer, Pants on Fire!!

So, it’s been a while.  Yes, it has been a very long while and just like a jerk I’ve kept you guys hanging…… HOWEVER I did make sure to come back with a good story.

First off, happy first spring weekend!!  Yesterday (for me) was such a delightful day- the weather was lovely, work was low-key with minimal to no stress, and I even woke up early refreshed.  It was a good day….for me.

Hopefully this will be the very last post to ever go out involving this dude.  Obviously I speak of The Musician, whose name is actually Brian.  This situation has caused some serious patience and for a while this event caused a momentary internal battle between what was the right thing and the wrong thing.  As you all know, by now, Brian has owed me money for quite some time (May/June 2012) and I’ve been ridiculously nice about it- not demanding full payment, offering that he pay me over time in smaller amounts.  My only real request: Pay in full before the end of the year (2013).

Because I want the full, honest story to speak for itself, I’ve included the emails and later text messages.  I will of course provide other details, such as non-emailed or texted happenings but for the most part I want everyone to read this for how it all unfolded and resulted in Friday’s events….

Letter mailed Monday, July 29, 2013
Brian:

Enclosed are your keys. I would ask that you please do the same and return the keys to my apartment as well. Along with them, please include the $600 you owe me for Mingus’s vet bill. It is understandable if you need to pay it in parts, however you do need to pay me back in full before the end of the year, preferably as soon as possible. If this is the case, please include a plan for when I should expect the remaining amount to be paid before the end of the year. I would’ve loved nothing more than to have severed all ties with you as of Sunday, but I was not then nor am I now in the position to allow you to not repay such a large amount. I would also greatly appreciate it if you could mail these. There should not be any need for further discussion, but if need be do so by email only.

Thanks for finally taking care of this matter.

Best,
Tonya Collins

The rest takes place in email, as I had deleted all his contact information and had no interest in any other contact.

On Aug 6, 2013, at 6:17 PM, Brian wrote:

Hi T,

I got your letter. Do you use paypal?

I will definitely pay you back in full for Mingus. That operation saved his life. Thank you.

I can send $300 now and the rest in a couple of months, ok?

Best,
B

On Aug 6, 2013, at 9:00 PM, Tonya wrote:

Brian,

Just be thankful I had it. If it had been $2 more everyone would have been out of luck because $601.89 was all I had left in my savings account.

That sounds good though. Thanks. Understand this is not me being vindictive, so if you need to do $200 now and the rest over the next couple months that’s fine. I’m not trying to prove some kind of point. My paypal account is ***

What’s the ETA on the keys? The set you have is my only spare and frankly I have no plans to pay $25 for another set.

Thanks again.

Best,
Tonya

On Aug 6, 2013, at 10:13 PM, Brian wrote:

Wow. Down to the absolute wire. Again, THANK YOU! And Mingus thanks you from the bottom of his feline heart.

I’m good for $300 now. Take it while its there 🙂 I totally understand and don’t think it vindictive at all. Sorry it’s been so damn long.

I can mail your keys along with handling the initial paypal tomorrow. Should I send them to the house or job?

Don’t know what to write here,

B

On Aug 6, 2013, at 11:29 PM, Tonya wrote:

Okay first, I am still very bothered with you, but your closing was hilarious and it did make me laugh.

I like Mingus, I’m glad it didn’t end up the other way.

You can mail them to either address, I’ll get them. Thanks.

Best,

Tonya

On Aug 21, 2013, at 9:41 PM, Tonya wrote:

Brian,

I received the $300- thank you. I haven’t however received my keys yet. When did you mail them and to which address?

Best,
Tonya

On Sept 3, 2013, at 11:50 PM, Tonya wrote:

Brian,

It took me about seven minutes to delete your contact info, compose a letter and mail you your keys. It’s been over a month and I still haven’t received my keys. What’s up? Why not?

If you threw them away, could you please let me now instead of months or years down the line. Otherwise, could you please, please just send me my keys.

Thanks.

Best,
Tonya

On Oct 27, 2013, at 7:41 PM, Tonya wrote:

Brian,

November is just a few days away, which means the end of the year will soon be here.  With that said, what is the ETA on the remaining $300 you owe me?  As I mentioned in the letter enclosed with your keys a few months ago, I would strongly prefer to have this matter resolved by the end of the year- I really don’t like to take any unnecessary baggage into new years.

You’re a smart and capable person and I would rather not have to consistently remind you of this situation, as I did with my keys to no avail.  This is not new to you, so it makes no sense that I treat you like a child by repetitiously asking you to pay me back.  It annoys me to ask and I’m sure it annoys you to hear it over and over again.  I would like to not send some version of this email a second, third or fourth time until you respond.  So, please let me know if there is an issue, but I would appreciate this being handled before the end of December.  If I could finally get my keys back that would be great too.

Best,
Tonya

On Oct 27, 2013, at 7:54 PM, Brian wrote:

Wow, was just thinking of this today in fact. I’m still in a rough spot financially, but will certainly pay you back by the end of the year. I’ve got a good film project contract being signed next week or 2 that will be plenty money.

I sent the keys, T! Like 2 months ago. To whatever address from the letter you sent. In Manhattan I believe.

May I ask how you are doing?
B

On Oct 27, 2013, at 8:56 PM, Tonya wrote:

Brian,

That sounds great- Thank you for letting me know.

Also, thank you for letting me know about the keys.  I will find out what happened to them once I’m back in that office.

I’m well.

Best,
Tonya

On Dec 23, 2013, at 7:32 AM, Brian wrote:

Hi T,

I hope this finds you well and happy. I’ll be sending the rest of your money in the next few days. Thanks for your patience and for saving Mingus’s life.

Love,
B

On Dec 23, 2013, at 8:51 AM, Tonya wrote:

Brian,

That’s great.  Thank you letting me know.

Best,
Tonya

On Jan 12, 2014, at 10:46 PM, Tonya wrote:

Brian,

I received this email on the 23rd of December, however haven’t received the money.  Today is more than a few days and has now dragged on into the new year, which I said repeatedly I didn’t want to happen.

Could you please let me know truthfully when I should expect the remaining $300?  I would really like to just wrap this up.

Best,
Tonya

On Jan 13, 2014, at 11:41 AM, Brian wrote:

Sorry. Still just waiting to get paid from early December gigs. Within a week I’ll get it to you one way or another. Thanks

On Jan 13, 2014, at 11:42 AM, Brian wrote:

And happy new year 🙂

Emails ended here, as I was clearly annoyed that this sh*t was being pulled into my new year.   Let me explain how each new year starts for me. During the month of January or the equivalent of 31 days I go on a pure fast of nothing but vegetable and fruit juices.  While I work out, it helps to clear my mind and really to clean out all the sh*t I’ve consumed over the previous year.  At this same time, I  also clean out unnecessary bulls*t, like delete annoying people from my Facebook page, delete numbers out of my phone, and boot unproductive people of out of my circle of friends, that kind of thing.  At the same time I invite new people in, eat healthier, try some new places, and as corny as it sounds try to center myself, figure out what I want for the year.  To be honest (and still corny), this is a moment of sincere clarity, which for me meant thinking about how this moth*f*ck* hadn’t paid me my damn money.  At one point I was at the gym and killed three miles in less than 25 minutes because I was running off how angry I was becoming.  Day by day the fact that he STILL hadn’t paid me was eating me alive.  Every time I needed to buy something and didn’t have enough money, it was because of his ass.  When someone asked me to hang out and I couldn’t because I didn’t have the money, it was because of his stupid ass.  Whenever my bills far exceeded my income, it was because of his broke ass.  And finally when I was exactly $289 short for the month, all I could think about was how it was because of his lying, sorry ass!  At a time when I started hemorrhaging money (thanks to a Texas wedding), the fact that he hadn’t paid me was becoming overwhelming.  But what could I do?  He was just going to continue to lie to me by saying “…one way or another” and frankly I didn’t need to hear a lie, I needed my damn money.  Hell I work for a non-profit, $300 is a lot of money!!!  I came close to emailing that he borrow it from his grandma or his girlfriend, whatever, just get me my money.  It was like he was living in this world where he was struggling, but I had a money tree growing in my living room.  As much as I wish that were true, it’s not and there have been plenty of times (this past week included) when I’ve survived on two $1.79 bags of white, black or red beans for a week or more- no breakfast, lunch and dinner.  It’s hard sometimes in New York and in life, but it’s much harder when somebody owes you a great deal of money, but has no intent on paying it back.

I continued to think about how the hell I was going to get my money back every damn day.  One day I even walked over to his apartment and knocked on the door, but upon realizing I had no interest in a) seeing him, or b) having him lie to my face AGAIN, I left.  Plus I realized it would’ve been useless when he didn’t pay me and it was too much damn work to go to his place and of course have no results.  Emails didn’t work and I no longer had this assh*le’s phone number… then finally it came to me- Flyers.  Thanks to the fact that there are basically no cyber laws, I enlisted his Facebook page for a few pictures, added some copy and created a page-long flyer.  Of course I had some other work to do before I could put them out- remember the post regarding “someone” entering my apartment.  I added another lock myself.  Yes, I bought a drill, hacksaw, lock and bolts and got it done.  I dicussed it with the fantastic and dominating attorneys in my office.  All of which were gun hoe about doing it and explained there was nothing illegal about any of it.  Then I got sick.  I was out a few days completely sick.  There was no way I was going to put up some flyers when I could barely walk out of my apartment.  Then it was my birthday and everyone was all about hanging out.  That weekend I wasn’t about to get up early, put up flyers then head to Manhattan for dinner (or brunch) and drinks.  This idea started to wear on me as I thought about all the extra energy it required on my part- Ugh!  Get up early, go to his neighborhood, put up flyers all while it was cold and snowing or raining- BLAH!!!  And then I needed new glasses and we were asked to pay for yet another thing for the wedding and I realized I had $19 in my account until next payday, well over a week away.  I sat at my desk trying to figure out what I needed to cover all my expenses and I was short little less than $300!  It was unacceptable and suddenly all those reasons why I couldn’t do it, disappeared and I was up bright and early Friday morning.

I woke up at 5:45 that morning (two hours earlier than normal), got dressed, took the train to the shuttle, then walked the additional eight blocks to his block between Greene and Lexington.  I stopped a block ahead, getting out the flyers, tape and putting my gloves in my bag- I didn’t want anything to slow me down.  I wanted to tape and move, tape and move.  I stepped on the curb of his block and couldn’t put up a flyer as I saw two cars stopped to the light.  I thought, “F*ck this.  Let’s get this done.”  I put a flyer on every empty window, tree, bus information box, and apartment and restuarant door.  I even put one on his door and slid about four or five extras under his apartment door.  With every flyer though, my tape would break and I would have to dig it out with my nail.  My hands started to shake, maybe from the cold, but really I think because I just didn’t want him to catch me.  The whole point of this “project” was if I couldn’t get him to pay by asking nicely or because it’s what he’s supposed to do, maybe I could shame him into paying.  Shame was the word.  I got the entire side of his block done before I crossed the street as a guy walked out of bodega adjacent to Brian’s apartment and stopped to read the flyer.  I crossed the street with a smirk on my face and tossing the roll of bum tape around my arm.

I continued walking a few blocks, smiling and waving at passing pedestrians until I reached my office.  By now it was a little after 8a and the Assistant Operations Manager, Hope, had gotten there and opened the metal gate that encloses the entrance door.  I walked in, chatting about the new hair stylist I had just tried the night before and finally telling her what I had just done, including giving her a flyer to read.  It was almost 9a when it all started.  I got a phone call from a number I didn’t know so I didn’t answer it.  Then a text from the same number…then texts began to roll in.  I stood in the lobby, reading the texts aloud to some of my coworkers and laughing- sorry but given months of radio silence, reading all the panic (and anger) in his texts was funny.  And it was Friday, everybody needed some entertainment.

 

Friday, March 21, 2014, starting at 8:43 AM:

Umm.

I do owe you the $300, and I’ll pay. But certainly never came to your apt without you knowing.

Don’t me a maniac

Be

I’ll pay you

I teach in this neighborhood.

(He calls- don’t answer)

If any of my students same this I am in for serious life altering sh*t today when I get to school

(Me) Crazy how this is suddenly important now.

I’ll pay you the money.

T! Do you realize the school where I teach is 3 blocks from home?

And never mind the crazy timing of this which we’ll discuss if I ever see you again

Why didn’t you just call or email again?

(He calls- didn’t answer)

It’s not like I’m living some high life

I’ll send the money today.

(Me) FANTASTIC!! Thank you! 🙂

Me and the woman whose face you plastered have broken up. Pleas leave her alone if you do anymore maniac sh*t

I’m sorry to have hurt you. Never was my intention. I really hope I can still work at the school.

(He calls- didn’t answer)

The timing really is crazy. Just got some bread but was scared to PayPal from my phone. Last night. Swear on everything.

Yo I never went in your house!!!!

I sent those damn keys to manhattan ages ago

(He calls- didn’t answer)

C’mon you exploded my whole morning, give me 5 min on the phone?

And we didn’t break up because of your destructive childish stunt today.

I’ve worked so hard to cultivate something with this high school kids. You may have ruined that.

That only hurts them. Shame on you for that. The rest is whatever.

(I receive an alert from PayPal that $300 had been deposited in my account)

(Me) I received notification that you sent the money. Thank you so much! Have a great Friday & a wonderful weekend! 🙂

I did.

Thanks for saving Mingus’s life. Change your locks.

Don’t be a maniac

Did those go up on other blocks or just mine?

(He calls again at 9:16a- Didn’t answer as I’m actually at my desk working now)

He called again at noon, but I was busy and unintentionally missed the call that time.  I didn’t and still don’t understand why he felt the need to not only call but to add all the extra information in the text messages- who cares.  I was actually annoyed thinking about how he still had my number- why?  I deleted his sh*t back in July.  Plus why would he think I would answer when I said there’s no need for further discussion outside of emails?  Why was he calling me after the transaction- his and my business was now done.  My friend Sheri and I laughed the most about him texting that I should have called or emailed again, like he’s some kind of toddler that couldn’t remember how to not piss on the toilet without being reminded.  I mean, dude, how many times do I need to remind you of your responsibilities??

All day I felt what it was like to be a mobster who had just broken someone’s legs for their money.  I had taken a bat to Brian’s knees and now I got to bask in my success. Granted unlike mobsters I didn’t received thousands of dollars, but only if you could understand how that $300 was almost like getting $3,000,000 just because of shire principle.  Most of all I felt a burden finally removed.  All was settled- he and I could officially be done!  Okay so not to take away from my I-did-it high, but I was also kind of disappointed that it had to come to this point.  That I had to make the decision to become the “crazy b*tch” in order for him to take care of it.  That afternoon, Hope, came over to my desk and just stared at me.  She said she just couldn’t believe I had done it, to which I responded that I didn’t understand why I had to.  Guys always like to pretend like women are so crazy (for no reason), but really they don’t respond until we do something crazy.  All those emails, bluntly, but nicely written, requesting when he pay me back and they just went ignored.  It took me getting up Friday morning and putting up shameful flyers on his block for him to finally pay me back and immediately.  Why?  Josh, slightly eavesdropping on our conversation, agreed that it didn’t make sense.

For lunch, the girls and I treated ourselves to Tai food at a lovely place up the block, then instead of going to the gym, as I normally do, I went home and treated myself to a couple glasses of wine from a bottle I received for Christmas.  In the end I was, and I am, proud of myself.  I didn’t just let this slide as I have with other things in the past.  I called Brian on this, made him pay his debt and I’m proud of that.  I think I should be.  Anyone who stands up for themselves should be…

BTW- Don’t try this at home unless you have good tape…

The Wait is Over

Our wait ended today.

This evening at 5:06, I received the text message that my aunt took her last breath. My cousin, Stacia, my sister and another cousin drove in to finalize everything, when they received a call from the hospice to come up. Aunt Genie had just passed. My sister texted to let us know.

After I left my office and while sitting on the shuttle, I called daddy. We talked until the train went underground then I called him back once I got back to the street. We talked my entire walk home and for a while after I got inside. I said I would call back later tonight to talk to momma. I called again around nine when daddy answered the phone. “I have some more bad news.” What else happened I thought. “I just got a call. [Uncle] Thurman just passed.” I was crushed.

Let me tell you about Uncle Thurman. He was my dad’s brother-in-law, married to his oldest sister. Uncle Thurman was hilarious and horribly sweet. He use to be the one that told us “bedtime stories” about how he met Aunt Thea- always exaggerating about how she basically tripped over herself to talk to him. He was the one that would wear hot pants to the beach, not to be sexy but to be funny and it was a laugh every time. When we visited we always stayed at their house and they would stuff us with food. Their house was the place to be and the first place I ever had a crab cook-out, watching the crabs crawl  in the backyard before Aunt Thea threw them in the pot to boil. The last time I stayed at their house, after I had moved to New York, he told me next time I came to bring a friend and he would feed us. He was always just so funny, an all around amazing man and he loved Aunt Thea so much.

At least five or six years ago, Uncle Thurman had a stroke and was no longer able to work and could only walk with help. Aunt Thea took care of him every day. Earlier this year he was diagnosed with cancer and refused treatment. Last week was his birthday and today he died. I have so many fond memories of him whenever we visited Virginia, Baltimore or DC and even him attending my best friend’s funeral when they visited Texas while I was in the eighth grade. Although he didn’t know her, he was that kind of guy to stand by you whenever.

I’m extremely sad for my aunt who just lost the love of her life. It seems like they’ve been married for a hundred years and the idea of her being without him seems deafening with sadness. I can’t imagine having been with someone for what seems like almost your entire life only to lose them. In reality I suppose that’s what marriage is though- loving someone and being there until the very end. These last several years of her taking care of him it’s like he’s been her whole life and now the thought of her being without him is just as devastating him being gone.

I suppose when it rains, it really does pour. It’s pouring on all sides of my family right now and my heart breaks for them. In this moment I can understand why some people opt out of moving away from their families because in moments like this it’s hard not to be with them. Granted there is absolutely nothing you can do, but there’s something about being together that makes death easier to bare. Of course death is never easy no matter who it is, but being together, helping each other cope with it seems to make it better.

Daddy and I agreed not to tell my sister and Stacia about Uncle Thurman’s death given they are still reeling from the impact of being there when Aunt Genie passed. I don’t imagine I’m letting the cat out of the bag by writing this. I figure they won’t read it until later or at least not until they’ve already been told. My family will heal with happier memories of both my aunt and uncle and one day this will become nothing more than my somber thoughts in the cloud. Now we’ll just wait for that one day to come.

The Final Goodbye

My aunt and cousin came to visit me last Saturday. Being here alone, I love when people come up to visit. It is a highlight. Although our three and a half days adventuring my city together were fantastic, it unpredictably concluded on a sad note.

We were paying our bill at The Spotted Pig Monday night, when my cousin received a phone call. It was her mom’s neighbor. She had walked in her mom’s apartment next door and found her laying on the floor completely unconscious. She was calling just as the ambulance was putting her in the bus and rushing her to the hospital. Since she isn’t a relative, the medics wouldn’t give her any information so she had none to give us. As my cousin stood in front of the restaurant, cupping her head in her hands and my aunt hailing a cab, I tried to nudge the neighbor for more information. She had nothing more to tell me. And despite my wanting to push her for more, I knew she had nothing else to give me so I thanked her and hung up the phone before jumping in the cab back to my apartment in Brooklyn.

While we drove down the street, I looked up the hospital and my cousin, Stacia, called to get the latest update. Aunt Reeva quietly contemplated the next possible steps we could take from 1,700 miles away. Since she had just arrived in the ER the nurse couldn’t really say much, other than she was there and they were working on her. Stacia left her number to be called later for an update. We fell asleep about an hour after getting home, waiting for a call back.

Around four in the morning, I woke up on the chaise, looked over to see Aunt Reeva  missing and someone crying in my room. I jumped up and rushed to the doorway in just enough time to overhear the last part of a phone conversation with the neighbor and her boyfriend. She hung up and continued to cry harder, I ran to sit on the other side of Stacia, with Aunt Reeva on the other. Aunt Genie had suffered a massive stroke and as far as they could tell she was unresponsive, in conjunction with various other health conditions it wasn’t good. Stacia was overwhelmed and ran to the bathroom to vomit- she is Aunt Genie’s medical guardian and would ultimately have to make some decisions when the time came, which seemed nearby. Aunt Reeva and I sat on the side of the bed for a moment taking it in before the phone rang- it was the hospital. They confirmed the neighbor’s assessment and began to ask about medical history, D.N.R’s and final decisions. Aunt Reeva and I lingered in the hallway outside the bathroom quietly talking about what could happen next. There was a computer issue at the hospital and they couldn’t find Aunt Genie’s paperwork so they needed to know the basics, plus needed to know about the D.N.R in case something happened overnight before the doctor came in at 7a, eight in NYC. We gathered in the living room, eventually talking about other things before Stacia went to bed and we shortly followed suite.

The next morning, the last hours of their visit, we woke up and raced to Canal street to buy some NYC souvenirs for them to take home. Stacia and I introduced Aunt Reeva to dumplings at the dumpling house next door to the souvenir shop then headed to Macy’s on 34th street. It seemed like the night before hadn’t happened, it was like a strange feeling that you knew was real but seemed somewhat like a dream. We were standing in the subway station when Aunt Reeva presented the subject by offering to go with Stacia to the hospital once they got back. I asked Stacia if she would be okay with me calling my mom while they were on the plane. She told she had called her that morning before I woke up to get her up to speed. With her phonically unavailable on the plane, my mom would be the next in line regarding medical status. We timed our visit in Macy’s to 35 minutes before we needed to get back to the apartment so they could pack their bags and kind of relax for a while before heading to the airport. Once the cab drove away, I came back in the house and called my mom. She didn’t answer so I laid back down on the couch and fell asleep.

The whole rest of this week has been filled with text message updates and family phone calls. All seeming to result in bad news, just as imagined considering the initial news. Stacia’s been stronger than I could even imagine I’d be if I were even brave enough to imagine myself in this situation. She’s undesirably made the tough decisions while consulting with momma, Aunt Reeva and another much older cousin. And despite having their backing, she’s had to struggle with making the right and best decision for her mom’s end of life.  Now almost a week later, Aunt Genie has been transported to a hospice center as we all just wait. At the current rate, and somewhat per the doctor, our wait won’t be long.

Even though I realize there’s really not much I can do, this is one of those moments when I’m sad I moved. I won’t be there for the final visit and most likely won’t be there for the funeral whenever it happens. It is an insurmountably difficult time to lose a parent or a sibling and for that I don’t really feel like I need to worry about if I’m displaying the correct emotions, but instead focus on Stacia, momma and the rest of my aunts and uncles. So for that I haven’t cried- It’s hard to comfort people via telephone when your voice is filled with tears and the idea of asking them how they are doing while crying just didn’t seem to mesh well in my mind. Through it all I couldn’t ask for a more amazing family though- the way everyone has stood by Stacia so diligently. It’s ironic how not even a week ago I was celebrating the reuniting of my New York family at a beautiful wedding and now my family’s reuniting for a death. I guess life is just crazy like that. It does prove families- whether it’s the one you’re born with or the ones you’ve created- will stick together in moments of happiness and moments of sadness.

The Eventfully Uneventful Weekend

My weekend couldn’t start soon enough on Friday.

My office was having an inter-office cocktail party Friday afternoon. The party was also in collaboration with a post elopement party I asked our ED if we could do for my newly married boss. She & her, now, husband eloped Columbus Day weekend at the courthouse. Originally I brought the idea up to before my boss was actually married, but we didn’t have enough time to get it together. We also didn’t think it would be nice if we just threw this post-married party for her when we weren’t planning to do it for anyone else, so the ED decided to combine it with a full staff appreciation party. We’ve only had one other staff party since I started working there and I recall it being pretty fun, with many drinks involved.

Being it that I somewhat initiated the idea for this shindig, I did majority of the running around, picking up decorations, the cake, etc. Tuesday or Thursday I was supposed to pick up my boss’s gifts before leaving Manhattan. It wasn’t a elaborate gift, just some guide books on Croatia and Scandinavia- where she and her husband are planning to vacation next year. With so many other things going on in my head, I totally forgot and ended up going to the UES at 6:30 Friday morning to the only Barnes & Noble that opened before my office opened. I got there, purchased the two books, plus snatched up one of my favorites – Life After Death by Damien Echols- to give as my personal gift to her. I scurried down the block, just in time to catch the train and make it back to Brooklyn and my office by 9:08.

I ran into my boss on my way out to complete errand #2- picking up the decorations. We weren’t planning this hugely elaborate party, so the main attraction was really the helium-blown royal blue balloons (and the cake). The blue represented the beautiful blue suede shoes she wore on her wedding day and loved. I bought everything and arranged for a later pick up for the balloons- with all the other stuff in my hands there was no way I was about to try to hustle 30 helium balloons back to the office in the wind. I headed over to the other store across the street for cookie sheets then to the mini grocery below our office for orange juice, cranberry juice and limes (to mix with the vodka). Back to the office.

Nonchalantly I met with my boss about some tasks and events we’re currently working on and possible deadlines. It was already noon shortly after we finished and I had to make my way back to get the balloons. I briskly walked down the block, picked up the balloons, hid them in a back office and headed back out to catch a cab to pick up the cake just on the north side of the BQE. After detailing out this image of a gorgeous 2-tier white cake with blue and burned orange, my ED tasked her cake lady to create it.

B*llsh*t #1- catching a cab in Brooklyn. I stepped outside and tried to catch a cab for over 25 minutes! That has never happened in Manhattan- EVER! Maybe 5 minutes, but 25+, I mean seriously!!! The first cab finally stopped on the corner of Bedford and Fulton, but kicked me out because he didn’t drive there. The next cab, parked across the street from Franklin street station, wasn’t on duty. The third cab I caught on the corner of Nostrand and Fulton, also kicked me out because he too didn’t drive there. Finally, I got in a car with a woman, after asking her through the window if she drives to address I was headed. Once the steam stopped coming out of my ears, eyes and nose, I was hipped by my cab driver that the other guys didn’t really have their license and were too afraid to cross the bridge because the fines were so high. Now let me hip you to the cab situation in outer boroughs, or at least in Brooklyn. There are hardly any, if any, yellow cabs here; instead it’s a bunch of people in their own personal cars claiming to be cabs. Just think ever time you hear the term Gypsy Cab, it’s really just a creepy, big white van driving up and down the street honking at people to get in and then charging like $1 a ride. I don’t mess with those because frankly they freak me out and my parents taught me not to get in strange, unmarked cars, especially when the people driving them look like they have the potential to kill you…or have been in jail for killing someone else.

Now onto errand #3… When we pulled up to the apartment, I asked my cab to wait while I ran in, grabbed the cake and ran out. The smell of Kelly’s apartment is how I imagined Willie Wonka’s Factory would be like- pure deliciousness. I felt like I could stand there and eat the air. It was fantastic. The cake was beautiful- two-tiers with a royal blue ribbon and a bushel of burned orange roses on top. She sweetly carried the box out while I pushed the elevator button then handed it over to me before the door closed, I descended downstairs and ran out the door back to my waiting cab. On the way back my phone rang, it was our receptionist. The party could be moving to our Manhattan office because the people working outside might have busted a water line. So….prior I walking in the office I needed to call her. The biggest issue was how in the hell I was supposed to keep my boss from seeing her cake?!?! As we pulled up to the stop light behind the office, I called her to check in. Everything was okay, we were staying there and I could come in. I got out the cab with my sizably boxed wedding cake and tip tapped across the torn-up street to my office.

We were reaching the final touches and all we had to do was get everything in place before she came up to the room. At one point my ED and I stood in the elevator talking about how we just couldn’t wait to get a drink. Staff started arriving while I was tying balloons to chairs, hauling trays of food and bottles of wine and beer into the room. My ED started the party by asking everyone to write a fun fact about themselves on a sheet of paper and put them in a basket. Everyone would pick one, read it aloud and we would guess who the person was. It’s cute. She started with her fun fact, which actually was about my boss getting married. Once she announced that I popped out with her lovely cake (final errand). Once that was done, I release a sign of relief and got a drink.

We drank and had a great time, which included a conversation about the brothers– yes, I finally mentioned this to my ED, boss and a couple other executives. It was quite funny and will probably be used for a later post. By the time I got home, around 730, I kicked off my shoes, laid on the couch and fell asleep. I woke up at seven that next morning. I had slept through another party that Friday night, that had probably just ended a few hours before I woke up, two unknown phone calls, and three text messages. I checked my email and saw four messages from my bank noting “irregular activity”. I got online to check my account….hmmm, what’s going on?!! Apparently despite my still having my debit card in my possession, someone hacked my numbers and began charging on my card like some billionaire shopaholic. Ultimately they ignorantly set off the alert, which after overdrawing, froze my account. So basically, my card is now void and since I had absolutely no cash on me I also couldn’t pull any money from the ATM, which really I couldn’t do anyway because the account, if it weren’t overdrawn, was frozen anyway. You just gotta love hackers.

So, what else is there left to do when you basically can’t leave the house- watch all the shows saved on your DVR and wait for the always anticipated Sunday night lineup. As I watched everything, I washed dishes, cooked some kick ass honey baked chicken breasts with a side of green peas, and thought of new ways to use Nutella. While I waited for my pasta sauce and noodles to finish Saturday night, I received a few tweet alerts. Who’s tweeting at me, I hardly ever tweet. I must admit I’m horrible at Twitter and I keep saying I’m going to do better, but have yet to do so. Normally when I don’t recognize the person I ignore the alert, but these people were actually comments at me so I was very intrigued. It seemed that my dear friends at The Daily Edge tweeted one of my previous post and given their 61K+ followers some of them actually had things to say…to me. I spent the next two hours engaged in back-and-forth twitter conversations with a few TDE followers, who are now my followers as well. It was a very big moment for not only my twitter account but for Conquering New York, which had one of its best days because of it. I, of course, tweeted and Instagramed to TDE for the nice plug.

Technically Sunday was a wash, other than cleaning and cooking (again) nothing really happened. The Walking Dead almost gave me a heartache and Homeland was utterly insane. It wasn’t until I got to work Monday morning that I realized things did happen on Sunday and in fact a photo of me at an event in September was included in a magazine. This is my third magazine appearance (PaperCity Magazine, VIBE Magazine, Uptown Magazine) and my second in a New York magazine since moving to NYC- very exciting.

I guess really what I’m saying with ALL of this is even when it seems like you’re not doing damn thing, a ton can actually be happening….

Oh and as of about a half hour ago, my phone also stopped responding. Don’t you love how once the new iPhones come out, your’s suddenly starts glitching up?!?! Very smart Apple, very smart.

The Shake Down

Yesterday my street hosted the little neighborhood block party. Did I join in? Nope. I was way too overly excited about sitting on my couch, catching up on my DVR’ed shows while the people upstairs were outside (for what felt like the first time EVER). It was peaceful and quiet- there was no way I was going to give that time of tranquility up to go stand outside, listening to crappy radio music and watching kids chase each other in the closed off street. No thanks!

When the party finally started to die down, I left the house to run my errands. Being it, the herd had been outside running around majority of the afternoon, I figured they would be wired up and frankly I wasn’t in the mood to put up with them stomping on my ceiling like they were still out on the concrete street. I walked outside, pausing to speak to a few of my neighbors- the man who lives next door, the two men that live downstairs and my super and his wife. The two men from downstairs are usually sitting outside when I come home from work during the week and we always speak. They’re pretty cool and continuously tell me how they think of me as family and love me- it’s corny, but nice because they’re old.

I didn’t have a ton to do really so I was only gone long enough for the day to turn to evening and all reminisce of the block party to be gone. When I got inside, I checked my mailbox then proceeded to walk up the first, short set of steps. One of the men I spoke to earlier was sitting in a fold-up chair right in front of his first floor apartment. I stopped to say hello again and ask if he enjoyed the block party then started my way up the stairs to my apartment. He stopped me and waved me to come back. He’s pretty old and uses a cane to walk so although I just wanted to take my bags upstairs, I turned around to see what he wanted. I walked back down and stood beside him. Our conversation went as such:

Me: What is it?
Him: Today’s Saturday, right?
Me: Yes, it’s Saturday.
Him: Okay next Saturday, I want you to have $10 for me.
[staring at him like 1) he’s lost his mind and 2) like I misheard him]
[he chuckled]
Me: For what?
[while smiling, he shrugs]
Me: Yeah, I ain’t gonna have that.
[I smiled then walked away]
[walking up the steps]
Me: Have a good night…

What the f*k!! Did he just try to pull a mob shake down on me? He’s like 80 years old. What the hell is going on in this building? Is he the leader of the Haitian Coalition within the building or something??? Where am I? What the f*k is going on?!?!?!

I got in my apartment and continued to shake my head. I couldn’t believe that just happened. I will admit I have given him $1 or $2 on exactly two different occasions, but to tell me I’m going to give him $10 and set a date- what the hell does he think this is?? He’s not Michael Corleone and we’re not in a damn Godfather movie.

These people have really and truly lost their damn minds here. I mean seriously! Who does this? And please do not tell me this is normal New York, because I have to call bullish*t on that!  Is this how it works in Haiti and he just had a momentary lapse and forgot he was in the USA now? What if he is the head of the Haitian Coalition and that’s who’s been coming in my apartment, I mean after all they’re all home during the day since none of them work. Maybe that’s why the super and landlord are so scared to do anything about the commune upstairs, they haven’t cleared it with the Don. Clearly I’m new to the shake down because this whole thing just threw me off. Did he really expect me to say okay then come Saturday just give him $10 of my bust-my-ass-at-work money??? These people are crazy!

 

**And just side note- the Godfather did come on today. Was that supposed to be a hint???

The Brothers

I believed I mentioned that my office recently relocated to Brooklyn. It has been a serious project and we actually just hosted our official office open house this past week (hence why I’ve been M.I.A; my sincerest apologies for that). Despite our moving, our building isn’t actually completely done yet. For example the floor where my department is supposed to be located was just finished enough in time for the opening and our bottom floor (which was closed during the reception) isn’t near done yet. These past few weeks have been crazy with event planning, construction and technical difficulties, but it’s also been busy chatting about and staring at our landlord brothers….

In light of the construction still underway, at least one of our landlords have been in the building since we moved in. We’ll call him Brother #1. He’s kind of a cutie and we speak to each other every time we pass one another. Honestly right now I’m calling him Brother #1 because we haven’t even exchanged names yet…and I say yet because I’m planning for that to be our next conversation.

Word in the office though is that they’re not that bright, but apparently they are loaded with a few hundred million dollars- yeah they’re rich- and the assumption is that if any girl were to date them it would be for their money. It’s a sad thought but also a little intriguing because I would like to know just how not bright they are. I mean you have to admit posting quotes as status updates from dim-witted people is pretty damn funny.

Over the last few days Brother #1 and I have become fairly cool. Obviously not cool enough to properly introduce each other, but cool enough to chat it up in passing. This past week Brother #2- the older one- came into the office. He’s also pretty cute, but in a different way. He, too, was talk amongst us gal folk in the office and I chatted with him just a little bit too. Truthfully they were both pretty cool, but we also weren’t conversing about business either so maybe that made a difference.

Thursday night- our event- the last hour before and even the first 10-15 minutes into the event were a bit of a 100-yard dash. I was the very last to change my clothes and instead was running around with my yoga pants, t-shirt and Converse setting up while people were arriving. I ran upstairs, quickly changing into my dress in the bathroom while still running out to print name tags. While I was standing by my desk,  a construction guy and Brother #1 came by, he said, “Wow! You look gorgeous.” Little miss can’t-take-a-compliment me said, “No…. My hair looks crazy and I haven’t even put on my make up. [realizing that was actually a compliment] But thank you though.” I actually felt myself blush a little in that moment. As they were walking away, I quickly turned, “You’re coming down to have a drink with us for a moment, right?” Brother #1 “Yeah, I might come by for a moment.” Me: “Good. I’ll see you down there.” So much was going on in my head that once the words left my mouth I hadn’t really thought about them anymore. I threw on my makeup, which I pessimistically imagine wasn’t that great given the rush and the unfamiliar lighting, changed my shoes, grabbed my phone and kind of ran downstairs (I say kind of because you can’t really run down concrete stairs in 2″ heels).

The event was underway and everyone was having a good time. Everything was running smoothly and my boss and I were in a pretty steady flow state of mind with everything. I walked upstairs to check on the fifth floor when I saw Brother #1. I walked up, placing my hand on his shoulder, “You came! And you put on a jacket. You look so nice.” B1 “Well, you looked so beautiful, I had to put on something nice.” I smiled (bigger), “You always look nice though. Did you get a drink? Are you having a good time?” B1 “Yeah, it’s nice.” Me “Good. I’ll see you later, okay.” I walked away to check on our volunteers but got caught up in a conversation with one of our board members. When I headed back Brother #1 was gone and I never saw him again for the rest of the night.

So, of course there’s gotta be a dilemma in all this. Being the recent office chat about any girl hooking up with them possibly (more than likely) being a gold digger, I don’t want to be that girl. I am FAR FROM a gold digger, I mean hell The Musician still OWES ME money! If anyone is not a gold digger it’s me! I’m insanely independent and cringe at the thought of even having to BORROW money from my parents. I mean I’m just kind of digging Brother #1, plus he called my beautiful and gorgeous- come on what girl wouldn’t be overly flattered! And even though our chats have been brief, I haven’t gotten the impression of either of them not being bright, which is obvious given that Brother #1 has sparked my interest- because I don’t do dumb.

After running this whole conversation by one of my friends this weekend, I think we’re both a little intrigued to see what happens. Who knows that might have just been cute little banter and I could be cooking the egg before it’s even been laid. Although I’d actually like to think I’m just prepping the nest instead… So next week, we’re exchanging names then see what happens from there. I’m sure he (and/or they) are probably “dating” a plethora of females, but word is they are very much on the market- we’ll see. Sadly I think I’m more concerned with being perceived as a gold digger than a home wrecker. As somewhat ignorant and perplexing as it sounds, home wrecker I can brush off, especially since it’s not involving an actual marriage, but gold digger stings. And I realize as I type that it sounds a little stupid that one would be better than the other when really they are both equally pretty damn bad, but when given two bad things you have to pick the lesser of the two evils and home wrecker is lesser to me.

It’s funny after only investing feelings in one person, it’s kind of cute (and slightly weird from immature insecurities) to be a little smittened with someone else. Now let’s just see what happens….

Don’t Let the Bed Bugs Bite

Friday is casual in my office and we all love it. Granted my office isn’t overly concerned with professional dress, but we do have to dress pretty business casual so a day with fewer limitations is nice. Normally during the summer I just throw on a sun dress, usually with a wife beater underneath because despite it being casual it can’t be sleeveless or spaghetti strap. This past Friday I wore a pair of jean, sleeveless shirt and my converse.

Early on in the day my leg started to itch above the knee. It was irritating and I was thinking it just kept itching because I wasn’t getting to it good enough over my pants. Shortly after I had gotten to my office, I went to the bathroom and upon pulling down my pants noticed a giant whelp on my leg. What the f….?? It looked like some mammoth insect had feed on me all night. And itched so bad!! I kept trying not to scratch it but unconsciously I’d find myself nagging at it. Where did this come from? What did this? When did it happen? What the f….?

When I finally got home that night, I immediately took off my jeans and continued to scratch it, but this time I didn’t only notice this mass growing bigger but there were also FIVE other bumps on my legs. One on each calf, one on my right ankle and two on my upper left thigh. Seriously, how many mosquitos are in my damn house?? Better yet what else is in my house?

I took some pictures, because I like to chronicle strange body issues just for my personal benefit (I realize that’s a little weird), and sent a picture to daddy. One because he’s my dad and can tell me what it is and/or how to fix it and two because we like to make fun of things together- it’s a strong part of our relationship. I continued doing whatever it was I was doing until he responded that maybe I should check my house for bed bugs. My mouth dropped. I hadn’t even thought about that. Let me back up and tell you the story as to why I should even be considering them as an option.

A week ago Thursday, I arrived at the hospital to lead my volunteer program. When my co-volunteer and I stepped on the unit, we were asked to put our items in plastic bags before leaving them in the nurses locker room because they were “cleaning today”. We thought no problem, it’s a hospital we want them to be extra clean. We went about our program. Thirty patients and two floors later, we returned to get our things to see a man fully dressed in a quarantine uniform spraying the bags with a high powered “hot water” spray (hot water is in quotes because really I don’t know what the hell that was, it just looked like water). Wow, they’re serious, we thought. I tried to open the door when the guy quickly turned my way and shooed me out before saying, “we’re spraying for bed bugs.” WHAT!!! BED BUGS!!! Is this a joke. Michael and I looked at each other with slightly terrified eyes. Bed bugs. Our bags may be carrying bed bugs now. And not only that but bed bugs we got from the damn hospital. It was unreal. I shouted and did hand gestures through the window, asking the guy if he could give us our bags. (In hindsight maybe that wasn’t the best idea.) He sprayed our bags and cracked the door enough to pass them to me. Michael and I, a little hesitant, tore open the bags, gathered ourselves and briskly walked out the door. Truth be told I didn’t think about it much after my bag was cleaned and out the door, until daddy brought it up.

In the back of my mind I knew he was joking, but still I kinda started to panic. Let me also elaborate how serious this situation is. A few years ago there was an enormous bed bug outbreak everywhere. I remember I was still doing my pilgrimages to New York and everyone was talking about being careful of the hotel beds and at one point the Ralph Lauren store had to close due to a bed bug outbreak. It was bad. 60 Minutes was doing segments on bed bugs and it seemed like everywhere you turn there was a bed bug story. New York being a city of movers, whether it be daily commuting or couch surfers, is unfortunately quite susceptible to anything that spreads through immediate contact, like bed bugs. People going here, sleeping here, clothes here and there, I mean it can happen and probably much easier than I really want to admit. Then to top that not only is eradication annoying, it’s also freaking expensive. Nobody wants to have bed bugs let alone pay to get rid of them.

I immediately called the Collins residence, daddy answered- “Daddy, I hadn’t even thought about that!” He laughed saying he had just thought about it considering how big the spot was on my leg. We talked as I pulled back the sheets on my bed, lifting the pillows and carefully examining all the creases and corners. I told him about the other five mosquito bites when he told me it was probably just mosquitos and if I did have bed bugs, I would’ve known by now. I thought that too, but I’ll admit in the back of my mind I kept thinking they could’ve caught a ride and I could’ve let them in my house- in my bed. Sh*t! This weekend my one plan was to do my laundry, with them the sheets that are currently on my bed. Lord, please do not let me have bed bugs! In the meantime, I think I might sleep on the couch.

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The Last Post

I’ve decided this is the last post I will write about this. In all actuality it’s not a post I truly want to write but if I don’t I might not ever get it out. As the women on the Beasts of the Southern Wild (which is an amazing movie) said, “Nobody likes a pity party girl” and I don’t want to ever be the pity party girl. Ugh, I feel weak, sad and stupid just writing this post, but here we go.

Friday I had a perk day, which is something fantastically incredible that happens in New York in the summer. Companies convert to either summer hours, meaning they close early somedays or everyday or they offer perk days, days you can take off with pay. It’s wonderful! Friday was one of the two days I have left this summer. I’d love to say I spent the day being productive, but in all honesty I spent the day asleep on my couch. I woke up at nine o’clock, went to the bathroom then laid back down to just block it all out. When everything happened on Sunday I don’t think I fully took it all in. I went to work the following day with a ton of things on my plate and it was business as usual. Granted the anger was still there, as it has remained, but I didn’t have that moment. Friday I slept through my moment.

Normally once I get home and I’m done dodging falling pieces of my ceiling, thanks to the neighbors, and actually have a moment to think, I think about the times I spent with the Musician. It’s funny that everyone says you block out the memories and move on, but for me the memories have been impossible to forget and don’t harvest either happiness or pain, but more of a what-did-I-miss state of mind. One memory stands out: We were in his kitchen, after a quite hilarious night at the bar, and he was cooking homemade peanut sauce to go with the noodles bubbling in the pot on the next burner. I was leaning against the stool in my underwear, talking about a crisis with his cat that happened earlier that year. For a moment we stood in the middle of the kitchen kissing when I told him, “I love you so much. I dread the day you leave me.” He looked at me and said, “I don’t know what’s going to happen, but that’ll never happen.” In my mind I keep thinking I missed him winking afterwards. I missed that part where it was all just an illusion, a made up thought that you’re not sure if it really happened or if you just made it up in your head. Upon telling my boss about what happened last Sunday, she mentioned she’d heard that about musicians and given my ten-year past in the music industry, I’ve not only heard but have only seen one to actually be faithful. And I will admit I’ve had my share of “Buddies” in my life, but I always followed the number one cardinal rule and never said I love you or even led anyone to believe I loved them and those three words in this situation is how this all went awry. Then I think about the times he looked me in my eyes and said I love you and wonder maybe he was actually looking at my forehead so it didn’t count and I just didn’t notice it. You know how you watch those movies, like The Sixth Sense, and later in the movie you see all the things the main character didn’t see because they didn’t want to, but were actually there the whole time? This is how my memories have started to play out- what didn’t I want to see.

I still haven’t cried. As I watched Beast of the Southern Wild (again an amazing movie), a part came when I felt the tears preparing to build up and I got excited just as they dried up like the Sahara Desert. Wednesday night I lingered in the doorways of the hospital rooms as my guitar player played during our volunteer program and the song he played was so sweet and normally seeing the interaction I would’ve gotten a little choked up, but I didn’t. Later we walked down the hall toward the elevator and I complimented him on such a beautiful song and how normally I would’ve probably teared up a bit, but that I’ve had “the inability to cry these last few days”. And last night while talking to mom and daddy on the phone, I muted the Sex in the City movie (the first one, the second one sucked). Once we hung up, I unmuted it at the very moment that Carrie says, “It’s weird, I haven’t cried much. I don’t know, maybe you’re only allotted a certain amount of tears per man and I used mine up.” I smiled a little thinking maybe I have too.

Friday was the first day I didn’t eat like an anorexic since Sunday and I was relieved about that, thinking maybe the storm had passed. I think I just don’t know how this works. I’m not sure how I’m supposed to feel. Every night I go to bed thinking this will all be gone tomorrow, but in the morning I wake up still a little angry. I will admit it’s not the same amount of anger, but it’s still there. I’m still devoid any other real emotion- disappointed, eh, happy, eh- everything just is right now. How long is that supposed to last? Is this why people become friends with their ex’s because it’s part of the getting-over-it process? If so, I don’t think I can do that. Despite it featuring a picture of his new girlfriend and his grandma (someone I was secretly dying to meet), which was taken a week or two prior to him telling me, I still haven’t severed our Facebook friendship, but mainly because I refuse to look like the eighth grader that defriends someone for giving the other half of their BFF necklace to someone else. I trust my friends, I believe my friends without questioning and I can’t really do that in this case. Given all the “words” he said to me in the last five years, all of them I believed, that turned out to not be true, how could I believe anything he says to me now? Although I would be lying if I said I didn’t consider becoming friends, as to keep him in my life, but just the thought of it makes me feel weak, sad and it’s completely dismissed just as quickly as it entered my mind. I mean I know at times it wasn’t a fantastic relationship, turns out it wasn’t even a real relationship, but when we were both in it, it was amazing and I was happy, happier than I’ve been with anyone and truth be told I do feel like that little piece is now gone.

If he were to call me right now, would I hang up the phone- no. I remember years ago my brother once overheard me crying in the shower. A couple days later he told me he was relieved because he thought I was a robot up until that point. My friends use to always tell me I had a black heart because I was able to dismiss people with such ease and I did. I did until I met him and that’s what bothers me- I let him in. I gave him my heart, not unwarranted or misled but because I loved him and he told me he loved me and I believed that, but he didn’t despite all the times he said or texted I love you. I didn’t miss the signs, I just failed to dismiss his words and instead trusted and believed him.

How do you forget someone you’ve loved so deeply, after all there is no such operation as in Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind and maybe there also isn’t a guidebook as to how you’re supposed to do it? Obviously I’ve spent much of this time also correlating what’s happening to movies I’ve seen, but unfortunately neither I nor my Magic 8 Ball knows how or when this movie, my movie, ends. So, as he says in Love Actually, “Enough…Enough Now.”

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