just another day at the office...

i couldn't possibly write anything funny enough to accompany this video:

they're called boundries people, use them

do you start random personal conversations with people you barely know? 

i don't, but i'm also kind of out of touch and i'm not sure which side of normal i fall on this one.

as a general rule, i save my detailed personal info for people that are routinely updated on my life.  but what do i know, maybe i need a lesson in socialization skills.  maybe i'm contributing to the self-centered mindset that many people claim is taking over our population.  

maybe my need to protect my small and insignificant matters is seen as an unwillingness to participate in regular society.  who knows. 

what i do know is that my neighbor ambushed me in the laundry room yesterday as i had my head in the washing machine to warble in an oddly undulating squeak "i just found out my sister-in-law has breast cancer."

and i should be clear, i don't know this woman's name or much about her other than what you can infer from seeing someone walk to their car once in a while.   

this gut punch of a conversation starter had an exquisite effect of unfolding emotions on me.  first there was anxiety, 'does this crazy lady really want me to do this with her?  talk about someone elses boobs and cancer?!'

next there was sympathy, 'ugh, this poor lady probably has no one else in her life to talk to about this and it must really be bothering her.'

there was also a distinct sense of insensitivity, 'how can i be polite and at the same time get the hell out of here to catch that 12:46 train this afternoon?'

as i tried to find the appropriate tone for my 'gosh i'm sorry' and 'oh' and 'uh-huh' responses, she began talking about sharing this news with her church congregation and how she was asking for prayers.

this ignited yet another intense emotion for me which i almost can't even name.  being raised as a (barely) practicing jew, i have never in my life felt comfortable with churches.  even the mention of activities inside churches are enough to make me squeamish to the point where i want to shed the conversation like you would wet clothes. 

as her monologue drew to a close, i felt the most overwhelming sense of relief. 

unfortunately, that relief has not lasted.  i am still going back to that conversation in my head and asking myself 'was i wrong to not offer more genuine consolation?' or 'was she completely crossing a line by trying to incite my involvement in her emotional well-being?'

truthfully, i cannot imagine reacting any differently should this scenario occur again tomorrow.  call me the crazy one, but that is exactly why i would never put a stranger in a position like that. 

i'm only blogging because i ran out of packing tape

on a scale of one to ten, ten being the most unusual, how weird is it to show up to work on a steamy summer night in brooklyn only to be told your parking spot is now reserved for the penguin guard?

i gave it about a six. 

i mean, it is important that the forty or so penguins residing in the walk-in refrigerator be well protected with their own security detail from vandals and other such types who might wish to cause them harm or distress.

i can't begrudge them that. 

it also helps that the past few months have been so insanely busy that i have become so much more easy-going than i ever thought was possible.  i think it suits me well. 

i've found life is easier for me if i roll with changes instead of attempting to enforce my rigid plans to achieve a desired outcome. 

now, don't get me wrong, i think i might have a mental breakdown if i couldn't make lists anymore.  but letting smaller things go, in general, has been quite exhilirating.  it's almost like giving myself a reprieve from having to be "on" all the time. 

and right now, things couldn't be better for me.  b and i bought our first house in the burbs, i got a promotion at work and now get to be the head chef of my own events, and i have a beautiful and healthy daughter who is about to turn two years old.  

so really, mr. penguin guard, you enjoy that conviently close-to-the-building parking spot and i'll walk a few extra feet.  i really don't want to have anything to do with weird birds who don't fly and need to be refrigerated. 

multiple choice monday

what does the crazy lady in your neighborhood look like? 

in my neighborhood she's about five foot three and pushing a solid two hundred. 

she has short hair that she somehow manages to wrap around tiny curlers, which i wasn't even sure people still used anymore. 

she wears her 'house shoes' outside and hangs out by the dumpster.

oh yeah, and she talks to herself almost as much as she converses with the neatly trimmed row of hedges that line the dumpster.

her constant proximity to the dumpster in and of itself is relatively harmless, or so i thought up until this morning. 

on my way to work i threw out a bag of garbage before getting into my car.  crazy slipper-wearing lady paused mid-rant to stare me down and say in a whisper just barely audible from my supposedly safe distance of fifteen feet, 'i'm watching you i'm watching you i'm watching you.'

as i thought to myself 'she's not really that crazy, she's just bored, or lonely, or waiting for someone to come pick her up, she's too lumpy to be dangerous, etc., etc.' i reached the oasis of shelter that is my car. 

putting the key in the ignition and turning it to hear the engine start with a quiet rumble, buckling the seatbelt, and settling into the driver's seat, i allowed the familiarity to almost shake the weirdness of the previous ten seconds away.

reversing out of my parking spot and craning my neck around to the left to make sure i wasn't going to hit any small animals or children, i was startled by what i saw in my driver's side mirror.

crazy psycho bitch was staring directly at me through the mirror.  her eyes burned with what at first i thought was anger, and then realized was more akin to the consuming desire with which a drug addict might stare down a pile of glorious dope right before pouncing upon it. 

she saw that i was leaving the area and bolted toward the dumpster, reached in, and appeared to be going through the very bag of garbage i had just thrown in the dumpster.

the view in my rear mirror as i pulled away was of her squat legs straining to propel her upper body over the lip of the dumpster. 

yes, really.

so now, the big question is what the fuckity fuck is my next move?

is it:

a- starve my monster for three days and lay in wait with him behind the dumpster and let him loose to feast on her lard ass

b- take pictures of her and draw satanic things on them and write scary messages to her and throw it all out in the dumpster when i know she's lurking

c- white bishop to black queen

d- go invade her territory and do my own version of crazy that may or may not include a sombrero in hopes of scaring her away long enough to buy an industrial wood chipper for all future garbage headed to the dumpster


please, help me before it's too late...

summersummersummertiiiiiiiime

picking flowers is fun.

eating peanuts from the shell is fun.

rainbows and waterfalls are fun.

hots dogs on a grill are fun.

sailboats are fun.

fireworks are fun.

fishing, hiking, and inhaling the scent of freshly cut grass until your lungs are so full they feel like they might burst are all fun.


what's not fun is inappropriate ass-scratching. 

thanks to the asshole mosquito residing in the pool of watery gunk at the end of my street, you can now observe me violently scratching the cluster of oversized bites on my left buttcheeck or squirming in extreme discomfort for the next seven to ten days.

spanks a lot, mosquito.  keep laughing, just wait until i pour some draino in your pothole pond...

are you sure???

dear chef 1, i know how to cook beans.

dear chef 2, i know how to cook beans.

dear chef 3, i know how to cook the shit out of some motherfucking beans now shut your trap and leave me alone so i can cook some goddamn beans.



thank you.

support veteran artwork

this blog is usually a place for me to talk about myself, my feelings, my experiences. 

today i want to talk about someone else, my brother. 

my brother cory is about a year and a half younger than me yet has had life experiences the likes of which i will never know for myself.  he is an iraqi war veteran who was divorced before i even got married.  i remember distinctly the thought occurring to me at his wedding reception that, at the time, he wasn't even old enough to legally have a drink to celebrate his nuptuals.  

he now lives across the country from his family and girlfriend. 

when my dad died in february he couldn't even make it home in time for the memorial service because he got stuck in about three feet of snow for two days. 

but he wouldn't say he's had a rough life.  his nature is to accept his past choices as part of the path that have led him to today.  he is more comfortable letting things unfold before him and listening to his instincts than anyone else i have ever known.

and just where is he today?  today he is living in a new city, going to a new school, and making a name for himself as an artist. 

his first showing yeilded him several offers from galleries, an invitation to a trade show, an offer for designing an album cover for a recording artist, and much more.  as he develops his website and merchandise lines, he is also selling poster prints of his original drawings. 

the following is from an ad he ran last week in a local artist community:

These drawings are all inspired by experiences in life. I recently moved to the area and wanted to meet a few artists,so I figured putting some pics up here would help. The drawings are 21 x 14 so they are pretty large, and they are all done with bic pens. I always felt as if they could be reprinted and sold for around 10$ as posters. There has got to be a market for people wanting to support veteran artists, right? All constructive criticism welcome, as well as pure unbridled hatred. I have plenty more of these, just not any that have been professionally photographed like these four. So sit back and stare at them, and enjoy...

(click pics to enlarge)

if you're interested in any of his work, or just want to see some different pics, please email him at corwyn.mansfield@gmail.com for more info.  if you live in the greater denver area and are interested in the upcoming trade show on sunday april 18th he can give you details for that as well. 

my brother's dream for a career as an artist is not about making money but more about sharing his passion and finding an audience that he can relate to, and that is something i will always support.