Off to the Loonie Bin!

My sister is back in the psychiatric hospital.  I think I might just join her.  It would be nice to just kick back in my room and do nothing all day.  The reality is that I have been moderately depressed for about six months now.  I refuse to take medication but I did break down and call my therapist.  I am definitely addicted to TV and laziness and I need to shake myself free from those shackles.   "Hello, my name is Dirk Smiley and I am a clickerholic".  Ok, I said it.  Now what the fuck do I do about it.  I am tempted to just shut off the damn cable.  But I am stronger than that.  I should be able to control myself and act more responsibly.  Tonight D has her book club so at least I will not be wasting this evening watching reruns of Deadliest Catch.  Instead, I will work a long day so I can have the whole weekend to work on my jeep and yard chores.  Maybe I will even go kayaking with D.

Wish Granted!

It is a beautiful, sunny day in the town square today.  Even though the thermometer displayed 36 degrees this morning, I drove my jeep into town for the first time in quite a while.  The only problem is that my fingers aren't working so well for  typing :-)

B is home from college and his new girlfriend is coming to spend a couple of days with us.  She is a sweet girl and I look forward to getting to know  here.

I am in a better mood today and hopefully I can make some headway on my dire financial situation.

There will be a new update to "Nice Mugs!" soon.  I have just hit a bit of a writers block. :-)

Here comes the sun.... NOT!

As you know, I am not generally swayed emotionally by the weather.   However, where the fuck is the Sun!  This nasty New England weather is not helping my mood. 

Nice Mugs - Part VI

“So, you think  I’m attractive?” Micayla looked down at her half-eaten biscotti.  “Absolutely” I replied.  “I saw you giving me the once-over.”  She  laughed.  “Was I that obvious?”  “Absolutely.” She chuckled.  “Don’t worry...  I don’t mind.  Men are made to feel guilty for looking at woman when they are simply engaged in the process of natural selection.”  She grinned at me.  Micayla placed her mug to her lips taking a deep drink of her coffee.  I stared at her slender neck and watched her Adams apple moving up and down.  She exhaled, set her mug down on the table and looked at my face.  However, I was still looking at her throat and then slowly, I drew my eyebrows down and my eyes began to darken.  A grimace spread across my face, my shoulders stiffened and I looked up towards Micayla’s eyes.  Noticing the sudden change in my disposition, Micayla sat up straight and appeared very nervous holding her mug with both hands.  “Mikey?” I said tersely through pursed lips.  “What?” She looked defensive and her eyes began to scan the room.  “Short for Michael I presume?”  She took in a deep breath and once again took a swallow of her coffee.  Suddenly, she relaxed and turning towards me said “Yeah, Michael”.  “You were in the paper.”  I said quietly.  “Something about using the girls room at the High School” a few years back.  “Yep.  Fucking assholes expected me to piss in the boys room.”  She leaned back in her chair, suddenly very confident, one arm across the back of her seat looking over my shoulder out the front window.  Her right leg, crossed across the left, bounced up and down in rhythm with the soft music playing in the background.  “What the fuck.”  I slumped back in my chair and pushed it away from the table ever so slightly.  “Well, it was nice talking with you Mr. Smiley.  Have a great life!”    “Yeah” I mumbled.  My mind was racing and I could feel my heart beating rapidly against my chest, pumping blood to my flushed face.  I began get up from the chair and as I looked towards Micalya with a look of disgust, I could see her eyes welling up with moisture.  “This is fucked up” I said to her as I picked up my backpack.  Micayla said nothing in return.  I looked around the coffee shop wondering how many people knew the dark secret I had just stumbled upon.  It was a small town and Micalya’s  lawsuit was prominently reported in all the local papers and even the Boston TV stations had picked up her contentious battle with the local school board.  I looked towards Micayla again, and although she had turned away from me trying to hide her emotions, I could see a tear rolling down her cheek.“  “Fuck me” I said as I dropped my backpack and sat back down in the chair.  “Your a guy?” I said again as if there existed some possibility that I was wrong.  “No, I am most definitely a girl” Micayla replied firmly as she turned towards me looking straight into my eyes.  “But you have a rather large Adams apple” I said pointing towards her neck.  “Yeah, and a few other appendages that might surprise you as well” she said fiercely.  She stared at me intently, her eyes blazing.  “But make no mistake, I am the same girl that you wanted to fuck not so long ago”.  I leaned back in my chair trying to make some sense of the chaos that had suddenly descended upon the coffee shop without any warning.  “You’ll have to forgive me, but I am having a difficult time processing everything that just happened.”  “Nothing happened.  You simply acquired some information you had not anticipated.  Everything is exactly as it was a few moments ago.”  I glanced down towards her crotch without even thinking.  “Looking for something Mr. Smiley?”  “No.... I just...  This is all just a little bizarre.”  I leaned forward placing my elbows on the table and began to rub my temples.  “Would you like me to rub your head?” Micayla snickered.  “No” I said defensively waving her off.  I folded my hands and placed them on the table.  Taking a deep breath and relaxing my shoulders, I rolled my head from side to side.  Micayla kept glancing in my direction as she continued to scan the room nervously.  “Well, I will tell you one thing” I said smiling again.  “No offense, but there is no chance in hell that I will be cheating on my wife with you!”  I laughed heartily and Micayla after holding back for a moment, began to chuckle then she burst into laughter as well.

Mixin' it up

This weekend was a mixed bag with work, art, socializing and slothness.  I had to work all weekend, but I took four hours off Saturday for a "Five Minute Art" show with my new group of creative friends; writers, directors, actors, artists etc...  I am not particularly drawn to fine art, but I admire contemporary art and I am working hard to make more contacts in the film industry.  Now that I am interacting more with creative people, I am finding myself drawn into their community.  Many of my new friends are unusual in some way and I seem to fit right in.  I think that most of them are introverts which strikes me as a bit odd.  The idea behind a five minute art show is that you spend at least five minutes each with five different pieces of art, then discuss them as a group.

My first attempt at writing a short story (Nice Mugs) continues but I have been struggling a bit with a lack of creativity (and motivation).  Hopefully I will have a some more material soon.

Nice Mugs - Part V

“I told her that I met up with a friend.”  “So we’re friends now?” Micayla looked at me with a devilish grin.  “For now” I replied slyly. “What is your last name Dirk?”  “Smiley” I said beaming from ear to ear.”  “No, really...” she replied.  I persisted. “I’m not kidding.  My last name is Smiley”.  “Huh...  Interesting.  I have never heard of anyone with the last name of Smiley.  So Mr. Smiley, where are we going with this?”  “Well, I was thinking we could go get a hotel room and get right to it.” I said without missing a beat.  “What, no mental foreplay?”  No chit chat?  Get to know each other a bit?”  She looked at me with a raised brow.   I laughed heartily.  “Well..., I guess we could start with that.  But I don’t have all day so we’ll have to make it quick.” I said gesturing at my watch.   “Ok...  So, what is your favorite color Miss Marconi?”  “Black.” she replied then sat backing waiting for my response.  “Black?...” I repeated.  “Now that is unusual.”  “Just like me”  she replied.  Now I sat back sizing up my new friend.  I leaned forward staring intently into her eyes.  “You know what I really want?”  “Yes, I think I do”  Micayla grinned impishly.  “I would like to get to know you and become fabulous friends while avoiding physical intimacy.”  “Yeah....” she replied.  “Like that is even possible.  Men like you are driven by conquest.”  “But that is my point exactly” I replied enthusiastically.  “We do the chit chat blah blah blah thing.  And not to be presumptuous, but lets say we end up in bed.  That fucks everything up!  No pun intended.  I think it would be really cool to have a non-physical intimate relationship with someone like you because I get most of what an affair has to offer without crossing that final boundary.”  “So you are not attracted to me?” she said matter of factly.  “Nooo....  I mean yes, I am attracted to you.”  I laughed.  “But it is not just about sex and physical attraction.  My wife is my best friend, but sometimes you want to be with someone that is not your best friend.  And I admit that I am drawn to young attractive woman that are interesting, intelligent and confident.  Perhaps that makes me shallow, but at least I am honest.”

Nice Mugs - Part IV

“Well... that was interesting.” I looked at Micayla with an inquisitive look on my face.  “He is just an asshole” she grimaced.  Her hands seemed to be shaking a bit as she raised her mug to her lips.  She swallowed her coffee and took a deep breath.   “Mikey was my nickname in high school, but I am definitely not Mikey anymore.  I have moved on but clearly Nick has not.”  “That’s  cool.”  I grinned at her.  “So how is it that you can hang out at the coffee shop?  Don’t you work” Micayla asked.  “Yes, I  work very hard.  Fortunately I work for myself so I can come and go as I please.  Plus, I work in IT so we keep rather odd hours.”  Micayla suddenly stood up and  looked towards the front counter.  “I am getting a refill.  You want anything?”  “No, thanks.  I am good.”  She turned and walked towards the counter.  I stared at her ass shamelessly as she walked away.  Round and firm, she kept herself in excellent shape.  I wondered if she went to the gym.  Perhaps even the one I belonged to.  I spent at least two hours a day either lifting weights or doing some type of cardio.  I was inspired to pump iron after watching the movie “American Beauty” and realizing  that my life was pathetically similar to the film’s protagonist, Lester Burnham, a middle-aged loser with a dead-end job at an advertising company.  In the movie, Lester realizes that he has lost his zest for life and experiences a life-altering transformation that includes whipping his pot-bellied body back into shape.  My phone began to vibrate and I retrieved it from my coat pocket.  I looked down and the large LCD displayed my wife’s picture.  “Hey Donna.” I spoke softly into the little device. “Hey Dirk, are you at work yet?”   “No, I am still at the coffee shop.”  “Your running  late today...”.  Her voice had a questioning tone to it.  “Yeah, I, uh... met  a friend.  We are just chatting a bit.’”  “Ok.  Well, call me later.  We need to talk about going to see Will tonight.”  “Ok, I will call or text you when I get to work.  We planned to drive over to Amherst to see our youngest son at college later in the evening.  Micayla was walking back  towards me and I furtively ran my eyes up and down her body trying not to be obvious.  She had a very small chest, but an athletic, almost boyish figure.  As she sat down in her chair I began to think about how Donna would feel about me talking with Micayla.  After almost thirty years together, we trust each other completely and other then one stupid affair twenty years ago, I have never violated the sanctity of our marriage.  But, like many other men following their primeval instincts, I still relish the hunt and love to think that I can “get the girl” and bring her back to my cave.  “Was that your wife of twenty four years on the phone?”  “Yes.”  “Did you tell her that you were hitting on some strange girl in the coffee shop?”  “Not exactly” I replied.  I grinned at her swiping some crumbs off of the table.

Nice Mugs - Part III

Raising slightly from my seat, I extended my hand across the table " My name is Dirk".  She reached out and clasped my hand firmly, surprising me with her strong grip.  "Micayla Marconi".  Her bright hazel eyes searched my face intently as if she was anticipating a reaction.  Suddenly she realized that she was still holding my hand and dropping her eyes, withdrew her hand quickly with a nervous laugh.  "So, are you from around here?" I asked taking a sip from my latte, cradling the large white porcelain mug with two hands.  A deep frown furrowed her eyebrows.  "Are you kidding me?  Really?  Is that the best you can come up with?  You set some pretty high expectations with the whole mug reflects personality bit.”  I looked around the shop nervously and started to think about why I was even sitting across the table from this young woman that I had never met before.  I had been coming to this coffee shop for a few years now, and while I knew most of the regulars, she was not one of them.  “You asked me why I was here..” I shifted my eyes back to her face noticing she wore just a hint of makeup.  “You now, I am not sure why I come here day after day. A few years ago I was struggling with some emotional issues and I started going to the coffee shop because I was a bit lonely I suppose.”  “Yeah, I know that feeling.” Micayla broke of a piece of her biscotti popping it in her mouth.  “Hey Mikey!” A loud voice pierced our conversation.  Micayla looked behind me and I turned to see a young man standing at the counter pouring sugar into his coffee.  “It’s Micayla, not Mikey” she replied angrily to the lanky blond-haired man.  He was wearing large work boots and a bulky Carhartt winter jacket.  “Whatever Mikey” he said smiling.   He winked at me saying  “Good luck” with a sarcastic tone.  Then throwing a dismissive wave in our direction he sauntered out the front door chuckling.

Blah blah blah

It is a cold grey day in the  blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah.  Blah blah blah blah.

Blah blah.

Nice Mugs (cont'd)

"Well, when I analyze the juxtaposition of the artwork on your mug, it clearly indicates a predilection for jazz." I said.  "Yeah, I don't think so" she replied looking down at her book.  "Or perhaps it was the enthusiasm with which you were tapping your fingers in time with John Coltrane?"  I asked mustering the wittiest look I could.  What about the puppy dogs?" she asked without looking up.  "Everyone loves puppy dogs" I replied with a smug look on my face.  She laughed and looked up at me, silent for a moment.  "You are a bit odd aren't you?".  "You think?" I replied.  "I don't mean in a bad way.  More like interesting odd..." she trailed off looking out the front window.  I could sense some emotional pain in her blank stare.  "...and married?" she said glancing at my ring finger. "24 years with the greatest woman in the world" I replied."  "Why are you here" she asked starkly.  "Apparently to meet you".  "Ha...  Not likely she said looking down at her book again.  "Why are you here?" I asked.  "Not to meet you" she replied.  "I stood there for a moment, unsure what to do next.  The coffee shop was rapidly filling with patrons and I was beginning  to feel out of place standing next to her table. "Are you just going to stand there all day or are you going to sit down and have a proper conversation with me?" she asked flashing a toothy grin.  I smiled, set my backpack down, then sat down across the table from her.

Nice Mugs...

It's a cold cloudy day in the town square this morning.  The weather reflects my somber gray mood.  I have been in a bit of a funk for the past month or so and I just can't seem to shake it.  When I become melancholy, my wandering eye is much more active.  Couple that with the recent argument I had with D and I am well positioned to completely fuck up my life.  Thankfully I recognize the temporal nature of any encounter I may have and I steer clear of any opportunities that could turn into something ugly.  But, I still think....  Yes, and I use the word "think" loosely. 

Recently I had a brief conversation with a young woman at the coffee shop.  I arrived later then usual and she walked in a bit later.  She ordered a coffee and a biscotta then sat down directly across from my table.  I caught her eye for a moment and she responded with the briefest of smiles.  Producing a paperback from her pocketbook she began to read while nibbling on her twice-baked cookie.  I closed my laptop and stood up placing it in my bag.  I then carried my dishes up to the counter, returned to my table and slung my pack over my shoulder heading towards  the door.  As I walked by her table I noticed her coffee mug.  It was an odd green color with some funky letters on it and appeared to be some type of homemade ceramic.  "Nice mug" I said as I walked by her table.  "Thank you" she replied looking up at me.  She had a beautiful smile and I paused by her table for a moment.  "I picked it up at the thrift shop" she continued.  "Really?" I asked.  "It is very unusual.  You know..." I paused as I looked intently into her face.  She had hazel eyes, a small upturned nose and prominent cheek bones.  I colorful scarf was wrapped around her neck and she wore a green wool sweater that did not accentuate her small pert breasts.  "Coffee mugs almost always reflect the personality of the owner" I continued.  "Oh really" she asked tilting her head a bit to the side her mouth curling upward with a sly grin.  "Definitely"  I replied.  "And what would my mug say about me?"  "Well..."  I started as I looked down at the unusual container.  "I think it says that you have a real sense of style, you look for the interesting things in life, you like traditional jazz music with a lot of saxophone and you love cute puppy dogs."  "Ok, I will give you points one and two... but you need to explain points two and three" she said as she leaned back in her chair.

Move over Spielberg

I really don't mind when it snows in  April.  I know that it will not last and I have thoroughly enjoyed this winter.  While I am ready for summer, I know that here in New England, it will come soon enough.

Wednesday night I went to a mini-premier of six short movies created locally.  They were all pretty good, but my real purpose in attending was to meet some people involved in the movie-making business.  I was fortunate enough to meet a local writer/director and we had a great conversation.  He said that I could work with him on his next movie which begins filming in May.  I am super psyched about this opportunity and I have become slightly obsessed with thinking about script ideas and Oscar speeches :-)