A Letter to 2012:
I realize you are only just ten days old. But, you have been awfully sensationalized and dramatized as something ominous — something dangerous that we should mete and tip-toe around like a sleeping dog on a neighbors stoop. So, I will reflect and summarize those first ten days as it seems as good and as round a number as any to use as a sample size. Because there really is some forthcoming transforming eschaton that awaits us on December 21st, then I would like to avoid a situation like this:
[The Nibiru Hypothesis comes true and V838 Monocerotis explodes, sending violent heat echoes throughout the universe causing the Solar System to almost instantaneously merge into a super pool of primordial goo. Thankfully, Earth’s languid cloud of greenhouse gasses becomes sentient due to [science]. A hipster in Brooklyn, NY makes a Twitter account on behalf of the now intelligent trending topic named @ihategore. @ihategore tweets, “Using the power of science to get us away from this mess. Suck it Gore.” Just then, Earth’s magnetic poles reverse. This event, combined with the now sentient giga-Snuggie of greenhouse gas manage to save us from the eschaton due to [science]. A news reporter from the Gothamist decides to go around, taking a census of how people felt on the brink of extinction.]
(Disclaimer: I never claimed to be any good at understanding or explaining science. This is just how these events play out in my head.)
Gothamist Reporter: So, how did this all make you feel?
Joe: Scared. Very scared. I very nearly sharted.
GR: That’s just terrible. Did you have any visions before it all happened? Some folks’ lives flash before their eyes — things like that.
J: (Turning away.) Well, I think yes. My life may have flashed before my eyes…
GR: Could you talk more about that?
J: Yes, umm. You see, I didn’t do a whole lot this year. So it was more like a very bland stick stickam feed looped over and over very quickly.
GR: (Visibly disappointed.) Could you elaborate on that a bit for me please?
J: Well, I didn’t do a whole lot this year. I read a few books and worked a job I didn’t like at all. I got drunk a lot in Manhattan. Overall, it wasn’t very eventful. Oh, I did finally beat Batman: Arkham City.
J: I mean, I thought about doing more. Finding a job I enjoyed. Pursuing love. Taking more road trips. Learning how to do a backflip. Making my own furniture. Fun stuff. It just sort of got away from me. I really meant to, though.
GR: (Turning away from me to face camera.) As you can see, some folks escaped today with their lives. Others have lives that seem to escape themselves. One might even question if they were alive to begin with. Back to you, Bob.
* * *
It’s a little disheartening, but at only ten days I can already sense 2012 leaning towards something like this. 2011 provided me with a lot of positive things that I would not trade away. It also provided me with more than a few mistakes and lessons that should not be repeated. Fool me once. Without further adieu, I will summarize the past ten days and make plans for reparations that I feel I owe myself for the coming days and months.
January 1st: Nothing interesting. Ate catfish in Harlem. Debated doing the Times Sq. NYE thing, but decided that even at the young age of 25, my bladder just isn’t what it used to be — certainly not strong enough to retain urine for eight or nine hours. So, like most native New Yorkers, I avoided the shit out of Manhattan like the alcoholic uncle who looked at you a little wrong when you were young.
January 2nd: I can’t remember. Wasted day. Went to the gym. Gym Report: Surprisingly empty. Only saw regulars. Didn’t have to deal with guidos. That in itself makes it a pretty okay day, otherwise.
January 3rd: Skated around the city with a friend, showing a friend from upstate around. Got angry at tourists in Rockefeller Center, Times Sq., etc. The weather was 15F at 3PM in Manhattan with a real feel of -3. My face became so frozen that I lost full facility of my facial muscles, making me sound like a stroke victim/current sufferer when I tried to talk. 90% of speech was something like, “It’s so f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-f-fucking cold!” I think I wrote a bit today too.
January 4th: A Wednesday. Nothing to report. The gym was crowded. I listened to Florence + The Machine and wore my Ed Hardy Snuggie for much of the day.
January 5th: I went to the gym. A girl came to visit me from upstate. She’s kind of a big deal. If anyone reads this, please let me indulge myself for a moment in describing her here:
She is about 5’7” with medium blonde hair that extends just below her collarbones. Which means that when she hugs me and nuzzles her face to my chest, the top of her head tickles my bottom lip — that height. I’ve dealt with from both deuteranopia (red-green) and tritanopia colorblindness (blue-yellow) for my entire life, so people’s eye color has always been tough. To me though, her eyes are a beautiful shade of greenish blue (not to be mistaken for bluish green) with intermittent touches of yellow that look like canary feathers suspended in a pool of amethyst colored water in early May.
She drove down to meet me in Westchester. I arrived at the meeting point early. At twilight, she slowly drove up the block to the house and rolled down her window. I walked to kiss her. I didn’t wait for the car to stop. The stale, warm air in the red sedan mixed with her Chanel perfume and felt intoxicating against my cold cheeks.
So yeah, she’s kind of special. I spent the day running errands. I bought her yellow mums and cheesecake. She kept repeating throughout the evening, “You bought me flowers,” the same way an old lover says that you remembered a special date after years of marriage.
We watched movies. First Drive with Ryan Gosling, then Inception.
I love her.
January 6th: Late start to the day. Went to get a late lunch at a local diner. Ordered the tuna melt. (Note: I will forever judge diners on three things. Their coffee. Their french fries. Their tuna melt.) Excellent day. In rare form. Floating on air. Et cetera. All wonderful things. It was cold, but I noticed less.
January 7th: Another late start. Went to the Post Office in the early afternoon, and then a local eatery for lunch. It was awfully crowded, so she and I asked if we could have our food wrapped to go. The lady at the counter who I knew showed us to the, “[…] two best seats in the house.” We sat at the coffee bar on stools and ate omelettes and smiled a lot. The owner, a short Italian man in his fifties, continuously came over to talk with us. Telling us about the pannetone bread for sale, and how he didn’t want to keep us because our food is best eaten hot, and asking if we needed help, and even giving us free caramel candies with sea salt from France. She and I grinned like two wild kids.
I came to the conclusion that she makes me feel young. That’s enough of a reason to take chances to keep her.
P.S. She also makes me take chances — a good thing.
January 8th: The first half of the day, she and I said our slow goodbyes. I surprised her pannetone french toast with nutella and toasted walnuts for breakfast. We ate slowly. I didn’t want her to leave. Either that, or I wanted to leave with her.
A very dramatic afternoon, for me at least.
Afterwards, I went shopping for new clothes in the city with my good friend. I was very thankful to be spending time with him, and also, thankful for not being left to my own devices in my apartment. I took four hours finding one coat (that is fast for me) — a grey knee-length herringbone wool coat. It was 65% off, coming to a total of $80. While walking to Grand Central, I felt like an old Western cowboy with six-shooters at my side and spurs on my boat shoes.
Post Script: Sbarro’s is such a fucking rip off. I also hate Times Sq. still and forever.
Elyse and I Skyped later that night for several hours. We talked about all sorts of things. It amazes me that after two years we can still talk for hours and hours about nothing at all. Past women in my life, I’ve struggled for a way to say, “What’s up?” without sounding too offputting.
January 9th: Work from 9:00 AM - 5:00 PM. Professional division training. I was thankful we had outside presenters. Keri and Chris from UMass, Amherst both are great people. The day wasn’t too bad. We did a lot of reflecting which reminded me of all the bad and negative feelings that this job emanates.
I can liken my current job atmosphere to when I was a child and forgot my asthma inhaler and had to walk home a few blocks from school in January. The sun was already setting in the early afternoon and it would slice through the bare tree branches in my eyes. I felt my chest tightening slowly as if my lungs were made of cold rubber bands being slowly stretched out and exposed to the cold. I thought about how it was ironic that I could see my breath. As if if I could measure it, it would be a fingers length less puffy with each breath.
I know it will eventually end. I know I should have remembered to do more. But the walk is excruciating, and I can’t even measure how bad it is correctly anymore. Also, during times like these, it feels incredibly, almost surprisingly lonely.
After training, my co-workers and I were invited to eat at Carmine’s on the Upper West Side. My employer paid for a full seven, or eight? or six? course meal. Salad then calamari then pasta then vegetables then meat then vegetable then dessert and coffee. It was too much. I purposely ate less than usual and still felt sick. The dinner raised more questions than it did soothe any work-a-day stress. The food though, was very good if not rich.
Afterwards, we went out to a bar for a nightcap and headed home. I Skyped with Elyse again for a long while. I went to bed at about five to wake up at nine.
January 10th: Shortened work day. I felt a little weary in the morning, which progressed to full-blown, head-nodding sleepiness in the afternoon. The entire day left a bad taste in my mouth. I couldn’t help but thinking that it’s miraculous that I am interested in so many things, but managed to find the one job that I honestly just don’t care about anymore. That realization felt awful and made me sick to my stomach. After work, I searched for new jobs. I looked at anything. I feel like every day I spend here is another day I waste. The work is fulfilling if not vastly underappreciated and undercompensated. The people I work with are great. The people I work for can leave things to be desired. The people I work to serve do not serve themselves or others. I went to school for writing. I need to write — I really do. And not just as a hobby. This job is killing me at age 25.
Throughout the day I talked with Elyse. She had a difficult day. I felt bad that I couldn’t do more for her.
I watched her documentary on Detroit. Partially because she wanted me to. Mostly because I wanted to. But also because I missed hearing her voice. It was a great documentary.
“We’re in wild times. And if you’re not angry, you’re dead.”
Preach it, Ford UAW worker in Dearborn, Michigan. Preach it.
So. Here’s to having a pulse, and finding what and maybe even who you love. This job is snuffing out dreams and possibilities and I hate it. It’s not a bad job (okay, maybe it is) but it’s just not for me in any way.
* * *
As many questions as the first ten days of 2012 raised, it has one simple answer. To add another useless cliche to this letter, if you’re not part of the solution then you’re part of the problem. That sentence should really be pointed at yourself and not at others. No one’s left to interrogate but yourself.
So, 2012. You are an infant. But I thought I’d write this letter so that in a few months and you’re an unruly adolescent all full of spite and Mountain Dew, we would have something to reflect on. I will tell you the story of how, at a meager ten days old, you almost flatlined before your story even really began. You almost never got to see if things would get better, or if you got to be with Elyse, or if anything even changed at all.
Final Post Script: Note to self. If she’ll have you, keep Elyse. For a long time. 24-month gut feelings are seldom wrong.
Sincerely,
Joe
