Confession of an Urban Nomad....

When I was a kid and there wasn't much to smile about, I tended to find relief in my own imagination. I suppose it's what contributed to me wanting to write. If I had a pen and a paper, then I could create my own reality. I could be anyone, and anywhere and whatever I felt was the ultimate dream could be my truth for that moment.

Now, since then, I've learned to curve my imagination. I learned that living in your own head can really end up hurting the reality you have to actually live in. Like seeing the perfect life with someone and later realizing that you actually over looked a few hundred details because those details weren't pretty enough to fit into your ideal.

Right now, with my imagination slightly stuffed into my pocket, I am wondering where all of this is going. I'm thinking about my future and realizing that I'm actually in a pretty awesome position. I have no ties. To anything, anyone or anywhere. I'm totally perceptive to what might happen and totally willing to follow a new path. I think I used to feel imprisoned by freedom and freedom in prison. I was comforted by limited options, because that meant decisions where made for me. But over the last few years, I've slowly come to the conclusion that I'm just not one of those people. I don't need permanence right now, and I don't even really want it. I want to continue getting my life together; school, money all the things your supposed to get together when your in your twenties. But I also want to see where this whole thing is taking me. I want to see the world, and live there and take it in and absorb whatever strangeness I find. As long as there is a voice in the back of my head saying, "Maybe there is something else..." I'm going to allow myself to follow it. I know that sounds kind of movie-of-the week (cue Greatest American Hero theme song, "Believe it or Not"...), but that is a definite truth.

I will, however, say it's nice to have an equally nomadic friend...

Rich Men Are Better in Bed....

The link accompanying this school of thought is found here.


Basically this is a "study" that shows women who have wealthy partners are found to have more orgasms than the average woman.

Excuse me while I burst your bubble; Donald, Hef and Steve....

But these are commonly known as "Please-Gasms". Which are orgasms you have while getting off on something that is totally non-sexual. Like, say....a mutual fund...a trip to the Bahamas....a Louis Vuitton Speedy Bag....or first choice at Fashion Week.

It's not at all hard to become totally ecstatic and loose yourself in rapture and emotion if your only goal in life is to suck the assets out of some douche with an ego problem and too much money to keep track of.

Of course this is all in speculation. :)

Down With Money!

I hate to loose money. But I suppose that's as unique a statement as "I like to breathe". In my situation, however, I REALLY hate to loose money. I work hard 40 hours a week at a job that, although I like; isn't exactly challenging to my intellect. I take the dusty, crowded train and walk to and from work with aching feet. I rise early and skip breakfast pretty much every day so that on Wednesday or Friday I can receive my hard earned money. Then I take that money and chop it up, divide it and stretch it to accommodate bills, savings and my measly little humble lifestyle (i.e. a few drinks with the gals). When this hard earned money is squandered, I'd rather it be from my own doing. I'd rather it be because I work next door to Famous Footwear and the new Steve Maddens in the window have been CALLING MY NAME. I'd rather it be because I got too drunk and then announced; "Beers on me!" at Bingo. I'd even prefer it if I'd blacked out, went to the horse races, bet on a loosing horse and lost it all in one day. But when it's because someone else has done me wrong; that's when I start to get ridiculous.

At this point, I'm at Phase 1. Phase 1 means that I'm smiling and counting to ten. Finding out what legitimate ways I might be able to get my deposit back. Civil court? A politely written letter? This is my first defense. After that I skip Phase 2 and go to Phase 3; which may or may not consist of physical retaliation. Being as how there is legal action pending, I really can't say. But after Phase 1, it gets mighty ugly.

Money is a horrible thing. I wish it didn't exist. I wish we didn't require it to live and breathe. I wish those selfish sons of bitches who invented money thousands of years ago and did away with the peaceful method of trade and barter were hung by there dicks from the nearest tree. But, wishful thinking is empty. Here I am, and this is the situation at hand. My hard earned money is gone and I have to deal with that. All I can do now is learn from this experience. My advice; go ahead and be the asshole that insists everything be in writing!