Friday, January 30, 2015


"Why are you humping the bed?" Katie asks - a legitimate question, since that's exactly what the dog is doing.

"She's showing dominance," I say, deadpan. "Let that bed know who's boss."

"I'd rather see you try to hump the cat," Katie says to her.

Thursday, January 29, 2015

It's a Living

The office birthday cake looks like a crime scene after I'm done carving it up. I have no idea how anyone thought that I was the guy for the job on this, because I always seem to make a hash of it: too big pieces for some, too small for others, and all of them in ruins, slapped on flimsy paper plates and slid across the giant conference room table to the bored and ravenous.

Afterwards, I slump into my filthy office chair, sweat gathering in the hollow of my chest, exhausted from jumping around to entertain my fellow cubicle jockeys. I take a sip of water and turn to my email, hunting for the next assignment.

Wednesday, January 28, 2015

How to Walk

The woman trudging in front of me as I walk down Flatbush Avenue is killing me. Her drift back and forth across the sidewalk has all the seasick roll of a ship braving massive waves in an invisible storm, with none of the majesty or drama.

We reach the subway station at the same time, and she trundles into my path once again, her idiot bulk thwarting any attempt to pass and walk a normal speed. I take a small measure of satisfaction at the bottom of the stairs when she hits a wet patch of ice and almost goes ass over teakettle as she makes a "whoop" noise, but my schadenfreude is short lived as I hit the same patch and almost go down myself, making the same noise as I do so.

Tuesday, January 27, 2015

The Road is Actually "Polhemus" But the Rest is True

"You know that road?" I say to Katie as we lounge on the couch, watching the plows scrape snow off the streets. "Polyphemus? Turns out it's named after this moth that has no mouth, so as an adult, the moth never eats."

She looks a me, stricken, asking, "You mean it spends its entire life hungry?"

Better Unsaid

"I went to the MTA, nyc-dot-gov, and weather-dot-com, and none of them could tell me if I have to go to work tomorrow," I say.

"Well, they said the storm would really come in overnight, so it sounds like you're just jealous that I don't have to go to work," Katie replies.

"I think that I'm better at keeping my jealousy down," she adds.

"I think you're right," I say, "but only because you're more jealous than I am, so you have more experience."

Sunday, January 25, 2015

Class Concerns

The dog walks across the icy meadow like she's at sea, each step considered carefully before placing a tense, testing paw. The white of it, even after having been criss-crossed by countless boot- and paw-prints, still manages to almost blind even after we put our sunglasses on.

A smaller terrier tears past, chasing after a ball flung by his owner across the expanse, and our dog stops and stares off into the middle distance with a vacant, thoughtful look, as if trying to ignore such a blatant disregard of decorum.

The terrier's return starts her from her reverie, and she shies away at the unwanted sociability and trots after us, fears of slippery ice forgotten in her haste to get away.

Saturday, January 24, 2015

Bird Poem

Fleet Foxes on the headphones, the gentle rocking of the train lulling me after a tough day at work, and the passage in the book I'm reading transforms from a simple list to a beautiful found poem.

Winter residents include red-tailed hawks, Cooper's hawks, sharp-shinned hawks, American kestrels, merlin and northern harriers. 
Birds that commonly nest in the field include northern flickers, woodcocks, ring-necked pheasants, brown thrashers, catbirds, common yellowthroats, and white-eyed vireos. 
They have been observed bathing in rainwater puddles on the runways.