summer is here in new york.
i have been writing a lot of childhood memoirs lately maybe because i just finished reading a sedaris book. all my outrageous stories either have to do with sex or drugs. why are they such funny topics? i don't even know if the stories are that outlandish. hmm... i really need to talk to you about my last trips to brazil and england huh...
ate like a king again yesterday. had lunch at the spotted pig followed by second lunch at philippe chow and then at din, filthy and i split a turkey club. it would be a dream life to just walk around new york trying new eats at these fine food places if it weren't for this cumbersome lumbersome pain in the ass foot i gotta lug everywheres. but y'know...
s'aight.
i thought writing everyday would excercise myself as a muscle and things wouuld just magically pop up into my head to write about.
guess not!
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Monday, July 27, 2009
happy anusversary!!!
so-
today marks the one month anniversary of the lovely day when my brave and valiant little ankle and foot was crushed by the freight truck, an evil mignon of the commercial trucking empire. not quite a month. i guess a month, people recognize as the same date in the next month or whatever.
dude. have you seen cash cab? it's dope... i'm watching it right now and i love it-
so anyways. not a month exactly, but 4 weeks ago. to be honest... it sucks. friends have been helpful and family has come, but you know... it's new york. people have their lives to live. and living in new york gives you little time to help others. but isness has been angelic and been helping me almost every day. it's also that i'm a difficult mix. everyone has offered me everything from time and money. i decline because 1) i'm stubborn and proud and don't want people to think i need help and 2) i think most people really care, but don't think that it's fun. i mean i don't blame them. i love people, but it's no trip to the water slide park to go to the hospital and hang out with them for a bit. so usually i decline any sort of help. and then to balance that out i'm also a bitch beause i feel neglected when people don't call or flake or visit. so i guess i'm a bit of a stubborn bitch.
what's more is that it's summer and i'm a summer boy... i do miss it. when i've had to go places, i use the car service because i'm over on avenue d and i love it if the driver doesn't know the city too well because then i get to drive around the city longer and just look at the people. it's that time of year when the whole city is walking around naked and it's hot and sticky and i love it. that's been the worst part this thing.
it feels like i been grounded...
today marks the one month anniversary of the lovely day when my brave and valiant little ankle and foot was crushed by the freight truck, an evil mignon of the commercial trucking empire. not quite a month. i guess a month, people recognize as the same date in the next month or whatever.
dude. have you seen cash cab? it's dope... i'm watching it right now and i love it-
so anyways. not a month exactly, but 4 weeks ago. to be honest... it sucks. friends have been helpful and family has come, but you know... it's new york. people have their lives to live. and living in new york gives you little time to help others. but isness has been angelic and been helping me almost every day. it's also that i'm a difficult mix. everyone has offered me everything from time and money. i decline because 1) i'm stubborn and proud and don't want people to think i need help and 2) i think most people really care, but don't think that it's fun. i mean i don't blame them. i love people, but it's no trip to the water slide park to go to the hospital and hang out with them for a bit. so usually i decline any sort of help. and then to balance that out i'm also a bitch beause i feel neglected when people don't call or flake or visit. so i guess i'm a bit of a stubborn bitch.
what's more is that it's summer and i'm a summer boy... i do miss it. when i've had to go places, i use the car service because i'm over on avenue d and i love it if the driver doesn't know the city too well because then i get to drive around the city longer and just look at the people. it's that time of year when the whole city is walking around naked and it's hot and sticky and i love it. that's been the worst part this thing.
it feels like i been grounded...
Sunday, July 26, 2009
fat fatbacks's fatassss song...
well no wonder why people gain weight if they don't do anything...
dude.
so. i been unable to move from my couch for the past 4 weeks and have been stuffing myself ridiculously. yesterday i wanted indian food but wanted to try 3 items on the menu instead of just the fish thingy. so i get the fish thingy, the predictable but benchmarkable chicken tikka masala, and the okra, cuz i think i need some veg action going on, only to realize upon delivs that they like the rest of the indian food (at least north, or at least the north indian on 6th street) are drowned in oil. i tried mitali east because they got okay reviews on the chowhound
dude. whatever. anyways. i end up gettin 3 entrees and some rice and naan solo and until i realize it's 60 bucks. i have a gift certificate so whatevs. i get it and eat it all. not that it was particularly delicious, but it was easier than puttting away in the fridge in my condition. i can't really move things.
crutches are crippling themselves. if you're on crutches, you can't friggin carry a glass from the kitch to the table. it sucks. you have to get some sorta plastic cup and just fill half way and bite it, or just eat and drink in the kitchen, or get cans or bottles and throw that shit to where you're gunna drink it.
regardless. i've been eating like a pig. i have never been more sedentary in all my life. and thus. my shit- especially the affected leg feels a bit like tofu. it's nuts how quick atrophy can set in. right before the injury i got tested for bodyfat and was at like 7%.
no mo!
dude.
so. i been unable to move from my couch for the past 4 weeks and have been stuffing myself ridiculously. yesterday i wanted indian food but wanted to try 3 items on the menu instead of just the fish thingy. so i get the fish thingy, the predictable but benchmarkable chicken tikka masala, and the okra, cuz i think i need some veg action going on, only to realize upon delivs that they like the rest of the indian food (at least north, or at least the north indian on 6th street) are drowned in oil. i tried mitali east because they got okay reviews on the chowhound
dude. whatever. anyways. i end up gettin 3 entrees and some rice and naan solo and until i realize it's 60 bucks. i have a gift certificate so whatevs. i get it and eat it all. not that it was particularly delicious, but it was easier than puttting away in the fridge in my condition. i can't really move things.
crutches are crippling themselves. if you're on crutches, you can't friggin carry a glass from the kitch to the table. it sucks. you have to get some sorta plastic cup and just fill half way and bite it, or just eat and drink in the kitchen, or get cans or bottles and throw that shit to where you're gunna drink it.
regardless. i've been eating like a pig. i have never been more sedentary in all my life. and thus. my shit- especially the affected leg feels a bit like tofu. it's nuts how quick atrophy can set in. right before the injury i got tested for bodyfat and was at like 7%.
no mo!
Monday, July 20, 2009
frankenfooter..
oooh.
i sar the foot today. aside from the foot having scabs all over it, the left side of my calf had 5 inches of pretty big sutures. it looked like the side of a rawlings baseball glove. or a tie up crotch of one of them country rock stars. anushow, i'm coming to terms with reality and just expecting the worst. i know i'll be able to walk fine which is most important, but as far as dancing the way i could, jumping and my speed. i may be able to do things like a normal person can so i'm happy, however for a while i believed i had better than average skills in fancy footwork.
we'll see....
mom left today. gosh. i lover her so much it makes me ache. grapefruit, mattress, and billya later stopped by today to keep company and get loopy and help out and take me to the doc.
i appreciate it mucho.
shit my foot's starting to feel pressure again and now i'm in a permanent cast.
we'll see....
poo!
i sar the foot today. aside from the foot having scabs all over it, the left side of my calf had 5 inches of pretty big sutures. it looked like the side of a rawlings baseball glove. or a tie up crotch of one of them country rock stars. anushow, i'm coming to terms with reality and just expecting the worst. i know i'll be able to walk fine which is most important, but as far as dancing the way i could, jumping and my speed. i may be able to do things like a normal person can so i'm happy, however for a while i believed i had better than average skills in fancy footwork.
we'll see....
mom left today. gosh. i lover her so much it makes me ache. grapefruit, mattress, and billya later stopped by today to keep company and get loopy and help out and take me to the doc.
i appreciate it mucho.
shit my foot's starting to feel pressure again and now i'm in a permanent cast.
we'll see....
poo!
Sunday, July 19, 2009
something to be thankle for...
so-
tomorrow marks the month annie of when my ankle was crushed by a freight truck. i just looked at a calendar. it's not a month. it's the start of the 4th week.
shit.
well... here's what happened and shit.
i was at prince & elizabeth a lil late for work. i rode this path to work at least 1000 times and that could be a low estimate... round the bowery on prince and roll by habana and peek to see who's working there. they're all new faces. no one i really know anymore. me and a freight truck were about to cross elizabeth. it was a big ol' truck and the driver couldn't see me out the passenger window. probably in his blind spot. anushow, it's like i thought we was both going straight but he makes a right...
shit.
the way these big ass trucks move is they start wide and then the back of the truck swings round right quick. the next couple things happened frighteningly quick. i've hotdogged on my bmxican for 7 years now and i think i can get out of any predic.... maybe not this time though. the truck clips me and knocks me off my bike. i look down and see my legs about to be smashed and i pull them up and i don't know what happened next.
i heard screaming and then a women ran up to me and said to you need an ambulance? i felt like i might not- wasn't really in any pain but then i looked at my foot which felt cold it was twisted in a way that didn't look cold. the rest of me was fine. i took off my sunglasses and thought how smart i was that is the year i was going to stop painting my toenails.
you know. because i'm 36 and all...
the driver probably didn't even feel my ankle, but he stoppedand got out and was entirely apologetic. he was a good dude...
the ambulance came and then the shock started to wear off, the reality began to set in as did the pain. it didn't help that ambulances don't have any shocks on new york potholes.
i get to the ER. and the pain is beginning to mount. right before i roll up in the queue, some dude that looks like he just got shot as his shirt is completely soaked in blood. they come up to me and ask me what my pain is on a scale of 1-10. i hate that question. what's 1 and what's 10? i'm in pain, but it's not like i got shot- but gimme some fucking meds please...
anyways... it takes two hours beforei get my first norco. they then take x-rays and inform me it's going to hurt like a bitch, but it's not that bad. the results of the x-ray come out and then they apologize and give me morphine. it's a pretty horrible fracture. shattered on the inside, the back is broken, and the outside is broken.
ugh. the orthopaedists come in. two of 'em... i'm like can i walk again or dance again? they say, i'll be able to walk, dancing doesn't seem like it wi- "hooold up a sec, let's not get ahead of ourselves" says the cocky one. "let's just saay it'll never be the same again" with a wink. they then inject my foot with lanacane give me another shot of morhpine in my IV and then one hugs my leg and i'm woindering what's going on. "you trying to hump my leg?, you a poodle in your spare time?" then the cocky one grabs my foot. i scream pretty audibly and grab a handful of the leg fetishists belly fat" they're trying to set my foot as it's dislocated. i feel it click into place. i laugh and say "jesus, that shit was burly" and then watch my foot flop over. so.. they repeat this about 5 times until they get it right. up until this moment i was surprisinly composed. this shit however was otherworldish pain...
he then asked my why it hurt when he squeezed my foot. i was like "cuz it got run over by a freight truck" he squeezed my tow and i yelped in agony. he said "that hurts?" i'm like yes. i guess he doesn't believe me because he squeezes it at least 3 more times and says "really?" idiot.
i proceed to get a CT scan and it turns out i got 8 broken bones in my foot that he was squeezing to a pulp to set my ankle.
the next couple hours are just waiting and waiting. i keep asking for more meds because it's boring and i might as well get high.
daddy comes into the ER and helps me out. i'm thankful for him being there even though i felt i didn't need him. but he helped out a lot actually. he'll get compensated in life.
they release me 9 hours after i was admitted. 7 of which was just waiting around. they release me not before they tell me that if my ankle hurts a lot i may have compartment syndrome which is where pressure in the affected area gets so high post injury that there is lack of oxygen and the never tissue gets damaged so much that they have to amputate. what the fuck does that mean?!?!?! if my ankle hurts so much after it's run over by a truck, let us know. what's a 10 on a scale of 1-10?
they smile and say thanks for being so "paitient!"
very funny.
tomorrow marks the month annie of when my ankle was crushed by a freight truck. i just looked at a calendar. it's not a month. it's the start of the 4th week.
shit.
well... here's what happened and shit.
i was at prince & elizabeth a lil late for work. i rode this path to work at least 1000 times and that could be a low estimate... round the bowery on prince and roll by habana and peek to see who's working there. they're all new faces. no one i really know anymore. me and a freight truck were about to cross elizabeth. it was a big ol' truck and the driver couldn't see me out the passenger window. probably in his blind spot. anushow, it's like i thought we was both going straight but he makes a right...
shit.
the way these big ass trucks move is they start wide and then the back of the truck swings round right quick. the next couple things happened frighteningly quick. i've hotdogged on my bmxican for 7 years now and i think i can get out of any predic.... maybe not this time though. the truck clips me and knocks me off my bike. i look down and see my legs about to be smashed and i pull them up and i don't know what happened next.
i heard screaming and then a women ran up to me and said to you need an ambulance? i felt like i might not- wasn't really in any pain but then i looked at my foot which felt cold it was twisted in a way that didn't look cold. the rest of me was fine. i took off my sunglasses and thought how smart i was that is the year i was going to stop painting my toenails.
you know. because i'm 36 and all...
the driver probably didn't even feel my ankle, but he stoppedand got out and was entirely apologetic. he was a good dude...
the ambulance came and then the shock started to wear off, the reality began to set in as did the pain. it didn't help that ambulances don't have any shocks on new york potholes.
i get to the ER. and the pain is beginning to mount. right before i roll up in the queue, some dude that looks like he just got shot as his shirt is completely soaked in blood. they come up to me and ask me what my pain is on a scale of 1-10. i hate that question. what's 1 and what's 10? i'm in pain, but it's not like i got shot- but gimme some fucking meds please...
anyways... it takes two hours beforei get my first norco. they then take x-rays and inform me it's going to hurt like a bitch, but it's not that bad. the results of the x-ray come out and then they apologize and give me morphine. it's a pretty horrible fracture. shattered on the inside, the back is broken, and the outside is broken.
ugh. the orthopaedists come in. two of 'em... i'm like can i walk again or dance again? they say, i'll be able to walk, dancing doesn't seem like it wi- "hooold up a sec, let's not get ahead of ourselves" says the cocky one. "let's just saay it'll never be the same again" with a wink. they then inject my foot with lanacane give me another shot of morhpine in my IV and then one hugs my leg and i'm woindering what's going on. "you trying to hump my leg?, you a poodle in your spare time?" then the cocky one grabs my foot. i scream pretty audibly and grab a handful of the leg fetishists belly fat" they're trying to set my foot as it's dislocated. i feel it click into place. i laugh and say "jesus, that shit was burly" and then watch my foot flop over. so.. they repeat this about 5 times until they get it right. up until this moment i was surprisinly composed. this shit however was otherworldish pain...
he then asked my why it hurt when he squeezed my foot. i was like "cuz it got run over by a freight truck" he squeezed my tow and i yelped in agony. he said "that hurts?" i'm like yes. i guess he doesn't believe me because he squeezes it at least 3 more times and says "really?" idiot.
i proceed to get a CT scan and it turns out i got 8 broken bones in my foot that he was squeezing to a pulp to set my ankle.
the next couple hours are just waiting and waiting. i keep asking for more meds because it's boring and i might as well get high.
daddy comes into the ER and helps me out. i'm thankful for him being there even though i felt i didn't need him. but he helped out a lot actually. he'll get compensated in life.
they release me 9 hours after i was admitted. 7 of which was just waiting around. they release me not before they tell me that if my ankle hurts a lot i may have compartment syndrome which is where pressure in the affected area gets so high post injury that there is lack of oxygen and the never tissue gets damaged so much that they have to amputate. what the fuck does that mean?!?!?! if my ankle hurts so much after it's run over by a truck, let us know. what's a 10 on a scale of 1-10?
they smile and say thanks for being so "paitient!"
very funny.
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