NJ The good side

I really wanted a pampered day for Mother's day, only I wanted to do it on Saturday, and not the one before since everything would be packed.


However, the food poisoning from Thursday (that blog is in the works and will be posted as another segment of NYC Latin Style) left me tired and run down.  Once I got home Friday I slept and the next thing I knew it was almost 1pm Saturday.  I lost the morning and most of my intended to do.

Worse yet I had to force myself to get ready and at 6pm I decided to just get a manicure at the mall and visit my favorite spot, Ruby Tuesday.  Mango Mojito and my favorite meal would do just fine.


Mall Spa
For quite a few years I have been going to same place for my nails and pedicure.  Through my many moves that took me further away, I would end up going back so they could fix the mess a local shop made.

I walked in, I never make an appointment, they are usually fast so if I have to wait, it won't be a long wait.  The woman that normally does my nails smiled and I told her I would wait, she was tending to a customer.  The owner however sent me to a table where a new nail technician sat.  A thin man with fear in his eyes.  I told him want I wanted and sat through the process.

TWO HOURS LATER, I see that my nails are uneven and he is just taking so long, I lost the feeling to my ass.  I take deep breaths reminding myself that new workers need time, experience and patience.  Patience from customers.  The owner knew if I was unhappy I would say something, more so, he knew that I would tell the technician myself.  Which I did in low tones, nothing worse then embarrassing a new person.

He did a good job, I've had better, I've had worse.  Now it's 8pm and I had also asked for a 30 minute massage.  The woman that does the 'spa' side is actually pretty darn good with massages.


She was supposed to leave a half hour before but waiting on me and I was waiting on the new tech to stop bonding with my hands.

Thirty minutes later I was energized, the soreness to my shoulders gone and my stomach was reminding me I had not eaten all day.


I walk out of the spa and into the mall corridor to see stores shutting the lights,  I check the time 9:28 pm.

Now what?  I'm not eating dinner that late, I'm not having a drink since that would mean immediately driving.  Even with one drink, I like a couple of hours to lag before getting into a car.

Basically, I was all energetic, feeling great and nowhere to go.  I felt the pout growing by the second.  I know had some choice words for that new technician.


I drove home and poured myself a glass of wine, I splattered some jam on bread and I turned on the TV.  If it weren't for the fact that my shoulders for the first time in over a week, felt so good..... I would have gotten totally depressed.

It's Saturday, not even 10:30 pm, the week before Mother's day and the best I could come up with was going to bed early.  I won't even venture out next week.


At least I have really nice looking nails and a stronger back........  that's the bright side....... right?

NYC Latin Style..... Revisiting the past to enjoy the present

NYC Latin Style - Revisiting the past to enjoy the present

It is a shame that I have spent 5 years commuting to this island and dreading it.  I am taking a new approach, one of childlike wonder.  I don't rush to the train station after work, rather I walk the close to 3 miles.  I take different routes each time, finding new views and appreciating the surroundings.

There are several restaurants, bars and shops I now plan to visit.  I map out the summer agenda while I walk around, half trying to find the NJ Path station and half hoping I don't so I can keep looking around.  The Spring chill allows me to find these places while the weather is bearable.

Tonight I wanted to visit my favorite shop.  But first.... a bit of the past

My goodness how the two decades have passed...

When I was in my early 20s I worked in the city.  The New York Hilton and Executive Towers in midtown.  I made many friends since I worked any shift available. As a Front desk clerk you to met the world, one guest at a time, one check in at a time.

Single and with time to spare, I never rushed home, plenty trains or buses day or night available to take me home (commuting was much different at that time).  At the time Hoboken was my home and it was actually affordable.  Everyone knew everyone and life there was pleasant and friendly.  Before the condos and Brownstone status that is.

Once I got married my husband at the time and I both worked in the city, we practically lived there and slept in Hoboken, it was difficult trying to extinguish what was our home state.  When I was pregnant I knew that I would not work in the city, I wanted to be close to my child and in the same state.  Not soon after giving birth I found a job in New Jersey.

Little did I know that life's path would not only keep me from a city I grew to love but also make us strangers for a couple of decades plus some years.

A divorce, severe career change and single parenting would make me live in a safe and quiet town in NJ.  That safety would become my habitual living.  Once my son grew to live his own life, I found myself finding a job in NYC.  I resentfully took it as the recession had hit hard and there were no other choices.  The commute was nothing like the past nor was the city or anything in it.

For 5 years I spent my time trying to get out like a prisoner sentenced to life and determined to escape.  Until.... a Latin style night with friends that taught me to LIVE.

You see... that safety had become a mundane life.  That quietness my routine.  I love the state I live in, but I hate my lifeless life.

Back to the present:

Tonight I ventured out to that store that decades later I still visit.  Incense... that will make me travel at night not caring what time I get home.  Incense, dipped in real essential oils.  I can't see myself starting or ending a day without lighting a good incense to Zen me out.  A co-worker has gone with me a couple of times before and we began a routine.  Head downtown and stop for a Guinness, go to the store and shop.  Eat a light dinner and stop for coffee.  We usually say our goodnights at a corner where she turns one way to head further into NY and to another borough and I struggle to find the Path Station because I have the gift of never knowing where I am.

Tonight was no different, with the exception that I didn't care if I was lost.  I wanted to savor the Village and walk through memory lane.  Mercer Street, always some quaint shops and bizarre bars.  MacDougal where a man was pretty much mouth to mouth kissing a ferret in his duffel bag.  Yup, the strangeness on that street hasn't changed.  I stopped at a market and bought a bouquet of flowers.  I used to do that a lot.  Buy fresh flowers for the dining room table, I can't even remember when I stopped doing that.  Lavender bouquet was tonights choice. I eventually found the Path and headed to Hoboken where my train home would start its trip.

I should be home at 930 and I sit in the train writing this blog, knowing that my NYC wandering has only just begun.  I reluctantly headed home.  I can't believe I not only just wrote that but meant it.  I really wanted to keep walking around but tomorrow is another work day and after 11pm, finding a way to commute home is near impossible.

Perhaps with a new attitude, a child like wonderment and a goal for a fun summer will help  me to find the love I once had for this city.  Help me to both appreciate its wonder and embrace the fact that if I am still here, then life has something in store for me.  This time I shall listen and smile.

Even though I am cringing at the guy sitting next to me blowing his nose into his bare hands, I have absolutely no regret on staying an additional 5 hours in the city, 2 of which wandering around.  

Five more stops to go.

NYC Latin Style

The history:  Working in NYC even with the hype of 'The City that Never Sleeps' has taken the ability to have a life away from me.  The commute is something one would not understand unless they went through it, every day.  After almost 5 years it wears me down consistently.


Friends:  When you have absolutely no time you lose friends.  NJ happy hour is early, I never make it, actually I used to try and just about catch people as they were leaving, the commute is that long.  After a couple of years you have little in common or worse, lose touch.  Can you smell the life disappearing?

Making friends in NY is like dodging a bullet, you get tired enough to want to get hit by one, but you're still healing from the previous wounds.


Hope:  I write often of that frenemy called Hope.  But we have finally broken up, it was a mutual break up.  I lost faith in Hope and Hope lost faith in me.


Mixed blood:  I was married to a Cuban.  When I gave birth to my son I knew I would raise him alone, it did not start until he was a toddler, but, I knew from the time he was born.  I am Puerto Rican, I wanted him to learn of both cultures.  How lucky is he?  He gets the blood of two great islands.  Little did I know that I would lose touch with my own culture.


The rain is gone:  I love that song, I can see clearly now, the rain is gone.  A co-worker who turns out to be a good friend invited me to stay over.  'We'll have wine, talk and relax'.  My initial instinct is to say no.  If I give up one day of a weekend that means I have only one day for errands, then it feels as though I had no time off.  Weekdays are shot as by the time I get home, places have closed, I am too tired and it's late.  Weekends are to cram all the things others do after work, so they have the weekend free.

This time I said Yes.  I meant no, but said Yes.  You see, she will be leaving to the South.  One way trip.  I may not have hung out with her before, clearly my loss, but we understand one another quite well.  I also wanted to be able to say, I spent some time with her before she left and keep in touch.  Perhaps Hope, that frenemy is whispering in my ear.


The evening:  I show up with a small luggage, jeans, jeans and pjs.  Light makeup, some socks and hair clips.


SWEET CHEESE!  The woman had plans, not just a plan....PLANS.  Before I knew it we were in her closet.  My usual conservative self was in a shirt that had little material, a choker, heels so high I felt the temperature change and the ear rings..... silver poles with a stripper on each.  Hair out of my face and enough mascara to give Elvira a run for her Revlon.  I thought to myself....... self, just drink the rum and coke and go with it.  Ah, yes....  guzzling rum and coke is a definite relaxer, highly recommended.

We chatted for a bit and before long she was on the phone with someone.  As my foggy mind cleared and I listened to her words, I realized she was selling someone......ME!  Not for money per say...but apparently a single hotty on the other line was being propelled (good, I'm not alone on this woman's master mind plan).


Cuban missile:  Marguerite!  This woman is just a missile.   Don't hide, don't run, when she aims, she will hit the target.  If you ever have a friend like this one don't consider yourself lucky, consider yourself blessed.  She doesn't swim in your misery, rather she shows you another place to swim.  She will make sure the landscape is beautiful and that Island music is in the air.  Oh, how I miss culture, I had not realized how much until that night.

Juan arrived (that would be the other missile target on the phone), she sent me to collect him.  A stranger... I never met... don't know what he looks like... you get the picture.  I walk down a hill in heels I never wore thinking....Lord, I know you think I should have a deep relationship with gravity, but if you could keep my face off the floor this one night, I won't complain another day when I land on my face or ass.  I look ahead and see someone talking to the security guard.  He looks and smiles, yells out 'Gracey?'  (Now, a person in general smiling at a stranger in NY?  UnFUCKINGheardof.  I felt myself relax, that is until I had to get us back to Marguerite's apartment and I realized I had no idea.  I managed it....woohoo.  Another rum and coke (hey, don't judge, you find your inspiration, I find mine) and we are off.


House party:  The first destination is a house party.  Before arriving Juan announces that he will be getting bread.  That's right, his party gift is several loaves of fresh out of the oven bread.  I find myself holding them and thinking...'Shit, I haven't eaten, this smells good.'  Before long Marguerite breaks into one of the loaves and we are on our way munching on bread. (I can't make this shit up).  We get to the building and find that the loaves are the 'bouquet of flowers'.  The gift for the hostess.


Issues:  We all have issues and although many would like to state mine, I know me better than anyone.  1.  I am claustrophobic.  Not many know or remember.  When I worked in Jersey it was not an issue, I drove to work and there were rare times when in a confined space.  However, my case is bad enough to require being put down during an MRI like a horse with four bad legs.  Being crammed into a crowded train daily would just increase that phobia.  2.  I am an observer by nature.  It takes me awhile to warm up to strangers as I find I like to watch and see how they are first. (I mean why risk attachment if they are bat shit crazy right?) 3.  I don't like being barefoot.  Seriously, I hate it, unless I am on a beach.  It goes hand in hand with claustrophobia,  you see, if you need to run because you are feeling too confined, you run. Might as well keep your feet protected....just in case....right?


House party:  We get into an elevator the size of a ring box.  I don't want Marguerite and Juan to think I am a freak (or know) so I keep the torture to myself.  I don't know what floor the party was on, but it was the longest fucking elevator ride of my life (it would suck if it ended up being on the second floor).  I was hoping that I would not start to hyperventilate (would hate for Juan to think I have orgasms in elevators, Marguerite would just chalk it up to a Rican thing) or worse yet, sweat like a hog during a heatwave.

We finally get there.  The door opens and women from Brazil and Venezuela grab the loaves of bread as if it WERE flowers.  Yep, that's Latin for you, keep the flowers that will die in a couple of days and just bring fresh bread (again, don't judge...breaking bread is as old as making wine....right?).  I look ahead at a very tight hallway and think 'OH MY GOD, another tight place.  ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?  But I immediately remembered that I needed to get a hold of this worsening fear.  Now is the time.  I held my head up in defiance......... when a hand touched my elbow and one of a set of identical twin sisters, (who lived in that apartment) said something I could not understand.  Multilingual Marguerite translated, due to the hardwood floors everyone had to remove their shoes.  I think to myself, ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?  I thought of running right there and then, but I began to remove one of the murderous heels, but then it started... the hot flash... the heightened breathing and I stopped.  (There is no fucking way I am taking off my shoes. There is no way I will survive this ring box apartment filled with foreigners, there is no way I will!!!...NO FUCKING WAY).  I am not sure if the woman understood the fear or thought I was just going to faint, so she said to tippy toe into the living room.

I wish I could say how many people were there, but it felt like hundreds and it was probably less than 10.  I found my way to the living room with little anxiety.  I sat by the table even though most were by the couch.  You see it was a couch that would fit most but not all, and they would be cramped together.....  You get the picture.  I found it more breathable to sit by the table.  I even found it pleasurable, the watcher in me seeing fun and laughter unfold.  It was someones birthday and she was young and anxious to get the party going - so she could begin the rest of the night.  I was served some food, but the anxiety kept me from eating it.  I did however enjoy to the fullest the happiness and varied cultures before me.  Even the black dog that looked like a burnt hot dog seeking it's own bread.  The person that stood out the most was a Venezuelan woman 36 sheets to the wind, professing her love to someone, who wasn't even there.  She had no humility about it.  She loves him, will bear his children and he'll like it.  You gotta love the enthusiasm.  Unfortunately I don't believe the feeling is mutual, unrequited love sucks, of this I know.


Destination - reroute:  It was time to leave for our next destination, as we got outside I inhaled and the word FREEDOM screamed in my head.  Juan and Marguerite were up ahead reaching the car and I was taking my time enjoying the cold air and expanded space that is NYC.  I do believe it's the first time I appreciated it.


The more the merrier:  Havana Central, if you have not been there, make it a point to go.  The music (live) is Island worthy, I was surprised to hear my favorite song playing when we walked in... Pedro Navaja.  Due to the fact that I was drinking some unknown concoction at the house party, I was now feeling no pain with the heels.  WOOHOO!  We were met with another co-worker and his wife, Jose and Rosa.  A couple that just blows to the wind the concept that marriages don't work.  Twenty six years and they look like they are dating.  Compromise and respect....works wonders for them.

Some Margaritas later and I was feeling no anxiety, no pain and lots of glory.  I found my groove and Juan, ever the willing victim danced along with both Marguerite and I.  Did I mention it was her 7th wedding anniversary?  Unfortunately her husband was out of state, but I am happy to have been one of the chosen to spend that evening with her.  She must have missed him terribly but she trooped on to make it a night to remember.


Havana closed early (early by NYC standards) so we made our way to a bar, I believe it was called something like Amigo bar.  WHAT A PLACE! I would love to go back.  The people were somewhat friendly, well as long as you don't call the bartender Flaco.  That would just throw a wrench, trust me on that one.  Music, laughter and drinks..... Magnificent fun!


A note to the ladies:  A gentleman with the ease of great driving skills (I mean in NYC that is just unheard of), patience and fun made sure Marguerite and I had a safe night.  Ladies....chivalry does still exist!!!!

NOT ONE MINUTE OF bitching, complaining, work talk or disaster.  A wonderful and fun night!!


I learned a few things:
A friend doesn't pity you your miseries, they distract you from them.
Single men with class, personality, style and vibrancy do exist.
Marriage is not only possible but successfully so, if only we saw more of it.
There are those that do not judge your issues or worse remind you of them.
You can conquer your fears with a smile and twinkle in your eye (massive amounts of booze might help).


My small dream of a slow dance under a full moon may not have been met, but my heart swelled no less from the thrill of the night.


Hope!, that wretched frenemy.....welcome home.

To the Cuban Missile, thank you for showing me the other side of the city!

AndMore...Settling for less...habit or necessity?

As a single parent I learned early on that the word security is many fold.  You hold this tiny baby in your arms that is completely reliant on......YOU!


You don't see it or feel it quickly...that moment when your carefree days diminish.  The manner in which you begin to take crap because the greater picture serves your child better.  The sacrifices you easily make because it is in the greater good of your child.


It becomes second nature....
The worrying
The sacrificing
The nourishing
The abundance of love that seeps out of you
The strength in handling that a person or persons depends on you...completely

Think about that last one for a moment.  How terrifying is that?

But you do it.  You become the person that worries but shows strength, the one that sacrifices but shows generosity, the provider that shares all, the one that teaches unconditional love.


The years go by and you worry more, sacrifice more but you nourish less as they learn to get their own food at friends or store, you love even more and still wonder how it is possible, but their love and need is far, far less.  I mean, they don't love you less, they just don't love you the same.  Conditions start popping up, if you don't know what I mean, hang around a teenager for a bit.  Manipulation is taught in a circle of friends that never share the address of the meetings.  They depend on you less.


This is the time that you should be spending on learning to find who you will become.  I mean you can't be the same person, you soon won't have a person to worry about round the clock, you'll sacrifice less and they learn to make their own sacrifices.  You love them more because they are now a whole new person and still becoming more.  They definitely depend on  you less.

When you don't take the time to learn who you will become, this is what happens.


You find that your child is now living with a partner.  They barely see you as they have many things to do.  You find that you don't know who you are and where you will end up.

You are a parent and always will be but the dynamics have changed.  You are not an active parent.  You have to think about yourself and in most cases/times only of yourself.  How difficult that is when you haven't done so in so many years.  You find people are just not sympathetic to that.  They expect you to just turn it all off and know how to have fun, where and with whom.


You find that being lost has a new meaning.  Caring for yourself is actually not selfish and loneliness and fear have new meanings.  What's worse is that it's natural, expected and knowing that doesn't help one bit.

It is time for me to grow into yet another person, long overdue actually.  To find out who I will become now and where that quest takes me.  To step forth and worry for myself, sacrifice for myself, nourish and love myself.  Depend on myself.  I think about that last one for a moment.  How terrifying is that?  Very!


I don't know where this life continues to take me but so far I learned a few things:
If I could change anything I would change nothing, for all of it led me to who I am today.
Being a parent is truly the greatest gift and life lesson.
In settling for less in many ways I received more in other ways
It is necessary to become one person at one point of your life and become another at other points of life
I no longer fear growing, learning and changing...I am the seasons of my life.

Weather LIES

I just can't take it anymore.  You can't get the right weather report unless they are talking about it real time and even then it's a crap shoot.

64 degrees MY ASS!



They said 64 degrees so I wore a half length sleeved sweater and opened back sneakers.  I just went outside and my digits were talking 'GET THE FUCK BACK INSIDE'.  It's cold enough out there to keep your coolatta cold.

THAT'S IT


Those crackpot weather reporters need some schooling.

SCHOOLING



No more maps or craps.  Just plain ole ENGLISH.

If it's 67 but will feel like 17 then simply say:  PEOPLE HOLD ON TO YOUR TITS AND BALLS, THEY ARE GOING TO FREEZE RIGHT OFF!

I bet you every single person will dress appropriately.

80 but feels like 110?  PEOPLE DIVE INTO SOME BUTTER CAUSE YOUR ROASTING YOUR ASS OUT THERE.  MANY WILL DIE!!!!

I bet you only those that really need to go out will, the rest will stay in.

Blizzard?  Guessing when and how much?  Why?  PEOPLE SNOW IS COMING. DON'T KNOW HOW MUCH OR WHEN, AT YOUR OWN RISK!  IF YOU DIE, IT'S YOUR OWN FUCKING FAULT FOR NOT STAYING IN FOR ONE DAY!

I bet you many would stay in play Parcheesi or some other shitty game with a smile.

Rain storm?  IF YOU DON'T KNOW HOW TO SWIM......LEARN!  IT'S GONNA COME DOWN THAT BAD.

I bet not a single soul would leave their rubber boots behind......or canoe.

It's not difficult!  If you don't know - just put it out there and let the Sheeples decide!  But don't give wrong info!!!  Now I will freeze my ass going home and wonder when the pneumonia will settle in!

Weather Lies!  I am sick and tired of weather lies!!!!

Threading Nazi

For several months now I have my eyebrows threaded.  I really never bothered to take stock in the minute detail of the task.

This past weekend I went for a touch up.  That is just to clean up some new stray hairs.  Very quick and smooth process.

My standard place to go is the eyebrow bar at the mall.  It is a place literally for eyebrow threading.  They have chairs similar to ones in the beauty salon only they lay back.  Once you go in unless you have a regular person that does it, you get whoever is there.  I always have the same person, on this day she was out.  Knowing the restricted schedule I have I opted to have someone else do it.

This petite, Indian young lady with hair so long it just reached her knees came over with a tight smile, she advised me it was my turn.  You wouldn't believe how busy that place is on the weekends.

I sit on the chair, then lay back.  The custom is for the customer to take both hands and with one finger of each hand stretch the skin above and below the eyebrow.  They will then take a thread and with both hands weave it through your brow, eliminating unwanted hairs.  A part of the thread is maneuvered via their mouth.

It started with her jamming my finger into my own eye, quite aggressively.  I told her I had an eye injury and needed to take care, I think at this point I realized her limited English was 'You next'.

The assault was swift, it was like having that creature from The Ring movie climb up on me and attack my brows.  Her teeth gleamed in anger while pulling the thread through it.  She pulled the rest of the thread with two angry hands, my eyebrows were on fire.  I dared a peek and could see many tiny hairs flying about, as if a tiny lawn mower were doing the trick.

The pain was excruciating and I finally had the strength to say STOP!  It took two shouts.  The maniacal threading Nazi would have none of that.  She pointed to the center of my eyebrow and before I knew it she was on me like a bad date in a trance over cheap perfume.  I literally had to push her off.

I grabbed a mirror and there was hair all over my face and inside my eyes.  Luckily I did not have my contacts on, I wore my glasses.  I stormed out wishing I knew how to say FUCK YOU, YOU LITTLE THREADING NAZI in any of the Indian dialects.

I went home with a pounding pain above both eyes, the skin so red I looked like one of the Aliens of Star Trek.  When I got home my left eye, you know the one, it's only been through laser, antibiotics and multi levels of prescription wear, was swollen.  The next day the swelling was down but the pain persisted.

Today, I have a stye in my left eye (crazy bitch probably had gingivitis in that foaming anger), and LITERALLY thread burns on both eyes just below the brow.

I am so traumatic about it, I doubt I will ever even sew a pair of fucking pants if it entails touching thread.

I shall go back to the waxing, suddenly scalding hot wax doesn't seem so bad after all.

Preacher - Teacher

This weekend I had a great need for recovery, that blog will be written later.  Saturday was pretty much a bust, but on Sunday I was slowly feeling human again.  I woke and as usual I turned on the TV.  I don't really watch anything and leave it at whatever channel is on.  I make my morning cup of coffee and just sit, listening to the TV somewhat, while slowly waking.

On this particular Sunday Joel Osteen, the Christian Preacher from Texas was on.  I am not an avid viewer but there have been times when I watched his service.  He has charisma and he tells his stories, many of which he has 'heard'.  I watched and somewhere in the middle of the show I really listened, he was telling the story of the Paid in full with milk.  I have heard this story through the years always varying as stories tend to do.  But the length of the story and the falseness just left me awed.  The main reason was because here is this preacher who is teaching his flock.  Who is using stories to show them the way to Christianity, to becoming, remaining as a good human being.  Yet, his stories ring few bells of truth.  Now some actually do, but others are just out right lies.  That he doesn't check the validity of the stories is just incredible.  That we have come to a point where we must embellish an already good story speaks volume of our lack of faith in one another. We must make a story extraordinarily unreal and sad in order to believe it.

The parts in red are the embellishment, the parts in black the truth, the parts in blue never mentioned.

One day, a poor boy who was selling goods from door to door to pay his way through school, found he had only one thin dime left, and he was hungry.

A young medical student who enjoyed hiking went on such a hike, not wanting to turn back he stopped at a farmhouse for some water.  There a young girl was outside the farm.

He decided he would ask for a meal at the next house. However, he lost his nerve when a lovely young woman opened the door.

Instead of a meal he asked for a drink of water! . She thought he looked hungry so brought him a large glass of milk. He drank it so slowly, and then asked, How much do I owe you?"

You don't owe me anything," she replied. "Mother has taught us never to accept pay for a kindness."

They chatted for a while and he went on his way to continue his hike.

He said ... "Then I thank you from my heart."

As Howard Kelly left that house, he not only felt stronger physically, but his faith in God and man was strong also. He had been ready to give up and quit.

Many year's later that same young woman became critically ill. The local doctors were baffled. They finally sent her to the big city, where they called in specialists to study her rare disease.  went to the clinic where Dr. Kelly worked as a Dr.  (No mention anywhere of disease, near death or anything like it)

Dr. Howard Kelly was called in for the consultation. When he heard the name of the town she came from, a strange light filled his eyes.

Immediately he rose and went down the hall of the hospital to her room.

Dressed in his doctor's gown he went in to see her. He recognized her at once.

He went back to the consultation room determined to do his best to save her life. From that day he gave special attention to her case.

After a long struggle, the battle was won.

Dr. Kelly requested the business office to pass the final bill to him for approval. was well known for his charity and every few patients he would forgo billing them.  He looked at it, (on her bill) then wrote something on the edge, and the bill was sent to her room. She feared to open it, for she was sure it would take the rest of her life to pay for it all. Finally she looked, and something caught her attention on the side of the bill. She read these words ...

"Paid in full with one glass of milk"

He was never poor.  He did 'save' her.  She did not go to any special place and he did not give special attention.  He merely did what he normally did, only this time, he knew the girl and wrote the line.

If you look at only the black in this story, the actual event, it is worthy enough.  Dr. Kelly was a devout Christian, a charitable man, he was one of the founding fathers of the John Hopkins clinic.  That he remembered a patient and wrote that line was sweet, but he did this often.  And, more importantly she was not so sick, dying or any of the above red.  He was not hungry, broke or despaired.  

An autobiographer who was his friend for many years wrote of the above (the actual story) from a paragraph in his diary, a small one that mentioned that girl, the hike, the water, milk, operation and bill.  

It is fascinating and frightening to see what that story has become and that a preacher would tell it.

It would have been so much better to tell the actual story and remind his flock that kindness can be repaid years later and many times in between, without turning it into an embellished sob story.

How I hope Preachers remember that they are teachers and so their material should be researched, confirmed and applicable.

Despicable they...Racist, heartless, humanity Oh My!

When my mothers Parkinson Disease took it's toll walking was torture for her. Not only for the obvious reasons, shuffling, getting stuck in place or when turning corners but also because of people. My sister lacked understanding as to why she would not leave the house. It only took one visit to the mall for me to understand.

Even though we walked along the side people thought it too much an effort to pass her by, instead walking behind complaining loudly to their companion or sighing loudly, repeatedly. I always found myself as her protector, eyeing people, telling them to just pass and do so quietly. Rare were the times when someone held the door or patiently waited or with empathy passed her by. Humanity has lost the human aspect of that word.
Yesterday I had to deal with something I had not had to deal with in quite some years. Racism. The hard core, evil and hate filled kind. Ah...but is there any other kind? Let's go back to yesterday.....

My son took me to Stop n Shop in Clifton, NJ before going to night school, I wanted to plan ahead and buy some things in case I was snowed in. I also wanted to get some movies from the RedBox kiosk located in that store. I was in great spirits which is rare these past few months.

We quickly got the items I needed and already knew the movies we were going to rent. He would also be getting a couple of movies from the kiosk as he was preparing ahead himself.

All the cashier lanes were filled, the masses were preparing as well. I was on the 12 items or less line. The woman in front of me along with her teenage daughter had a cart filled. No one cares about those signs. If they did those lines would actually move quicker. She unloaded already upset because the cashier mentioned something about the amount of items. She left the cart away from herself not allowing anyone else to begin placing things on the belt. I asked 3 times if she was going to use the cart (otherwise I would have simply moved it out of the way and to the side), she told her daughter to move it before she got all upset. I shook my head....incredible. The daughter clearly a product of her environment saw that there was one item overlooked in the cart and threw it with force onto to the belt, she turned to glare at me, I glared right back. (Why oh why do they say we can't beat kids I will never understand).

The cashier quickly rang the items, the woman purposely took her time, taking out a multitude of credit cards rubber banded together. Casually looking at each one slowly. The cashier kept rolling her eyes, I kept praying for patience. She finally chose one and after the transaction was complete she remained leaning on the credit card machine. Slowly reorganizing her large purse. The cashier had finished ringing up my 5 items but I could not swipe my card. I inhaled deeply, the cashier, a young little thing looked at me imploringly. I scooted closely to the woman careful not to touch and swiped my card, we were a hair width length apart. That pretty much pissed the woman even more and she yanked her purse and left. I shook my head...incredible.

We finally get to the kiosk and my son goes first, movies for him and the girlfriend. We both knew the movies we wanted in advance. As he is choosing a Caucasian woman comes by. I hear her mumbling curses and thought she was on the ear piece. My soon took about 3 minutes tops most of that time was the box taking it's time spewing out the movies. As he is finishing, I hear the woman say 'stupid mother fuckers'. I shrugged not thinking anything of it, smiling at the thought that someone was getting reamed foully and should have just hung up. Another woman with two kids stood behind foul mouth. I figured that line was getting long quickly and am glad I know exactly what I want.

I go and as soon as I touch the screen she starts getting really close and I turn and look at her. She is staring at my hand.

'You stupid or something, I don't have all fucking day. Can you read?' Her acid laced words were not loud, not a whisper either. I was floored.

I kept going through the selection for Blu Ray but they had several of the same movie for reg disk, you have to keep swiping for the screen to change to get the Blu Ray. She starts with the 'You fucking idiot, hurry up'. I feel a fury I had not felt in many years brew. I begin my mantra... Lord, just let me get through this without a word or a bail requirement.

me: excuse me?

her: I see you better now, I knew it, latin fucking pig cunt, if you can't read and I know spics can't move over I do it for you

me: Oh hell no, I think I'll just start from the beginning, I cancel my selection and start from scratch (now it's just principle, I'm not moving)

her: more foul shit out of her mouth (trust me the above was the nicest she said)

me: (I just go back to the born again christian days where prayers helped. LORD JESUS keep me from jail, keep me from beating her ass. I repeat this mentally over and over, she is just going OFF.) More racism.


My son is to my right (she is to my left) and he is just in utter shock.

The woman with kids waiting decided to tell her kids they didn't need a movie and ushered them out.

This was just unprovoked. I told him to get the manager.

Now I'm so pissed I am shaking and fighting the urge to hit, so now I really can't manage the screen. She steps in front of me 'why a cunt like you can't let a smart white woman do this is beyond me'. I don't care what anyone says, until you are in that position you really don't know what you will do. The old me would have hit her. Repeatedly. But...something tells me I would be doing time. She made sure to get really close but not touch.

The Rican came out - 'BACK OFF you need to back your racist foul self off me'

She goes on about what whores we are (I'm betting a Latina screwed her man and he was never the same...just sayin)

A Manager finally comes over. He asks what is going on. She finally gets silent but has a huge alligator smile. He's Caucasian. I tell him what happened and he asks 'what do I do? what do you want me to do?' I freaked. YOU KIDDING ME?

I told him, stand there and stare at her until her racist mouth closes and I finish my movie purchase! I get my movies and he walks out with me and my son. So he never says anything to her and he walks ME OUT???? She could not have shown her happiness more if she tried.

'I did't know what to do?" he says again. 'What exactly did she say to you'. So I told him, every filthy word.

I then told him, you do exactly what you did, nothing. I will never come here again and tell many. Perhaps then you will learn what you should do. Or this company will learn to educate its staff on what to do. You WILL lose business for not keeping this environment safe. Hate crime is not safe.

It is 24 hours since that took place and I am still calming the fury within.

Humanity is something we need to keep alive and yet it is dying a quick and painful death.

My son drove me home it was a silent trip. He knew I was still trying to calm down. 

I understand why racial remarks can create anger and hostility, that woman while unprovoked not only insulted me but continued to do so for quite some time. In hind sight I don't even pity her, I simply despise the fact that a lot of people still don't understand that racism is still here and going strong. That beast was bred and taught that soul fill hatred. And I really hope all the men in her family marry Latinas, give her Latin grandchildren, I pray when she dies a Latin priest prays over her and that the four corners of her burial is surrounded by a Castro, Gonzales, Rivera and Lopez. I hope that when she reaches hell an Enrique greets her in Spanish!

That's what I will pray for.

The Watcher's Notes: Despicable they......SUE! SUE I SAY!

The Watcher's Notes: Despicable they......SUE! SUE I SAY!: You can't have a conversation these days without people suggesting to sue. You also can't just give minimal detail, these days people want...

Despicable they......SUE! SUE I SAY!

You can't have a conversation these days without people suggesting to sue.
You also can't just give minimal detail, these days people want to know EVERYTHING and think you are antisocial for not complying.

I sprained my foot.  The inner side of the boot cracked and the really good gel sole I bought kept me from noticing.  After days of walking 20 something blocks for a project at work in freezing weather did not help.  The sleepless nights with stress from work and personal life, did not help.  Basically I was running on low and numb.

By the time I found that there was something seriously wrong my foot was double the size and the healing time was extended to weeks.

17, that's how many people told me to sue the boot company.

During this time I was driving to work since the Dr said the commute was out of the question.  Actually my son drove.  One day we went over a pot hole that destroyed the tire, hub and rod.

6, that's how many people told me to sue the highway.  There would have been more but not many knew I was driving in.

Pretty much everyone had unwanted advice ranging from natural foods for inflammatory foot to what type of pain killers to ask for.  None of these people have any type of medical degree or culinary schooling.

Long gone are the days of easy conversation.
What happened to your foot?
Oh, I sprained it.
Gee, too bad, I hope it gets better quickly.
Thanks.

There, conversation done, on to better topics.

No one offered a ride to the Dr.  A ride to work.  A ride to the train.  Just a lot of useless unwanted advice.  Heck I was immobile for 3 days, I got a lot of advice but no soup or sandwich.

It took an old co-worker that I hadn't seen in 5+ years to offer to take me about to get the tire issue resolved.  No questions asked, just helped me get around and get the car situated.

Long gone are the days of caring and doing something just because we are human and caring.

In this economy it does shock me that people still use the 'just sue' advice.  In this day of instant knowledge it amazes me that people think anyone needs medical or food advice.

I am just about sick of the 'I eat well and only natural foods' people.  Fanatics!  Judgmental tree huggers.  A co-worker one day announced that he was going to out live us all (all co-workers), because he eats well and does push ups every few hours.  Wouldn't it be a hoot if he died of something completely unrelated to food?

I am just about sick of the know it alls 'Did you do this.. did you try that...did you did you did you' SHUT UP! already.  I was not born yesterday.  I have survived this far without you!

I am sick of the not on the top of the list people 'Why didn't you call me? Why didn't you ask....'  If you are not calling me, then it's pretty sure that we are not communicating and therefore why the hell would I think to call you.  Furthermore, if I am in drastic pain and putting myself in a coma with pain killers, chances are I can't call anyone.  If I eventually call you and update you, just LISTEN!  Refer to conversation above.

I am sick of the self proclaimed IN people 'You should see this Dr.  You should go to this specialist.'  DIDN'T you HEAR ME, I WENT to a DR and SPECIALIST!  Yours isn't the only one!

Saving the best for last.  The I know every way to get over people 'Oh great, you can go on disability.  Get notes and take a long period off.'  That these people have jobs is the shock of a lifetime.  That THEY are the reason the rest of us suffer escapes their mentality.  That THEY are the reason few can afford insurance, co-pay or even medication escapes them.  Actually I think they don't care.  Thieves!  No other way to put it.

Me?  I just want to heal, pay my dues and keep dreaming of a peaceful day.  Until then I take the moments I can gather and wish for the best.  Oh...and keep dreaming of conversations worth having, that is when people actually let you finish talking these days.

WTF?.....*facepalm*

It doesn't matter the mug I wear, people on the train or pretty much anywhere are compelled to talk to me.  To open up their laundry called life and tell me their woes.  My -I couldn't care less- look doesn't help.

My son started working in NY and in mid December began commuting together.  Each day he would notice someone approaching me.  Nothing major just conversation.

It doesn't matter if I have ear phones on or if I am reading, that is just a mere transparent obstacle to the general public.  I have had a women tell me of the major labor pains she went through the month prior and how her husband was not very helpful, I told her to hire a babysitter and get rid of the husband.  She kept talking.

I have had a Rabbi talk to me of the issues of the people on the commute.  Because apparently I don't know it.  I told him to preach to them, it may help.  He kept talking.

I have had a man literally cry about his wife possibly having an affair.  I told him if you're instinct is saying so then it's true.  Divorce the tramp.  He kept talking.

On the last day of work in December before our week off for the holiday my son and I were on an earlier train.  Strangers at best since no one normally on our route was on it.

Woman that looked like she just got out of jail on phone - 'NO NO NO, they said the world would end at 11:20 today, we still have time!' *facepalm*

*I can't make this shit up*

A man talking on the phone - 'I'm not going to the party to hook up, I am going to have fun, why you so jealous?'  Same man on next call 'Yeah man, I hear lots of chicks will be there'.

But those aren't important, it's the following.

We are seated on a 3 seater, the train is not full, plenty of seats.  There is a man staring dead at me.  I blast my music, close my eyes and lean back into the seat.  My son is trying to nap on the train.  I feel someone just plop on the space next to me.

'Hey'  he says.... then his phone rings. 'Man, I don't flip pancakes, I run a kitchen, why you keep texting me all day?....blah blah blah  Yeah, I'm still there.  The kid came home drunk.  I need to get outta there.'
Call is over and peace as I know it.

He turns to me and begins to tell me his woes, even though I have headphones on.  I pull one out and yell WHAT?  Undeterred, he repeats... 22 year old son of his girlfriend gets drunk falls asleep in shower, mother can't control her other child; a daughter. He needs sleep.

STOP THE BUS!
Me:  How many kids?
Him: She has two I have one
Me:  You should never be outnumbered by kids RUN (my son laughs already knowing I am pissed)
Him: *laughs*
Me: I'm serious
Him: She is Rican, they can't control their kids *facepalm*
Me: *after mini inner shit fit*  I'm RRRRican, this here is my son 'Son, you ever come home drunk and asleep in the shower?'
Son:  No
Me:  You EVER come and disrespect me
Son: No
Me to stranger:  There you have it, she ain't Rican.
He laughs and says he thought I was Dominican.  WTF??? *facepalm*
Me:  Look, get out, focus on your kid.  GOOD LUCK.  I jab my son to get up and we get off, luckily IT IS our stop.

Why tell you this story???

TODAY
I get out of work late which means a late train and getting home, if I am lucky by 8:30.  The next train isn't for an hour so I sit to read my book, The Alchemist, ahhhh ZEN.

I see this man RUNNING towards me...'IT'S YOU, I'VE BEEN HOPING I FIND YOU'
Me: Oh sweet Jesus, Mary and Joseph, today I die, some man is running toward me with a furor.  I'm ready!
Him:  It's me Oscar, remember?  We were on a train a couple of weeks ago, you were with your son.  I was telling you about my girlfriend with two kids?
Me:  Oh SHIT!  I close my tablet, sighing openly.
Him:  (Hand in my space) My name is Oscar, what's your name
Me:  *shit what is my name?*  Ga Ga  Gracey
Him:  Well I thought I should know your name before giving you an update
*I CAN'T MAKE THIS SHIT UP*
Me:  It's amazing, people just come right up my space.
Him:  You have that face, peaceful, inviting
WTF????  *facepalm*
Him:  Well I left her, that same day we talked on the train (actually he talked), the two grown kids and her jumped me.  I had to go.  I feel bad cause I wanted to help her with the rent until March.
Me:  Well an asswhoopin definitely constitutes a quick departure, good for you, well done.
Him:  Yeah, I cook, run a kitchen for a health aid center
Me: *please please let me have an I don't give a shit face on*
Him:  Now I live with my brother and I'm focusing on my kid, just like you said.  HEY, you seeing anyone?
>>>>>>>>>>>>>crickets>>>>>>>>>>>>>
Me: Yes, a real long, solid and good relationship.     (Hey, I had my toes crossed)
Him:  Aw man, I feel bad telling you my problems, tell me something wrong about your relationship
Me:  Sorry to disappoint.  He's so good it's like he's not real.  *inner giggle*
Him: Damn, that's nice.
Me:  Well, so much for finishing my book, every time I try someone decides to tell me their woes.  I'm a doormat for the public, actually a dish rag, just talk, use and discard.
Him:  Oh man, you're great to talk to (did I mention WTF?), I saw you reading, what were you reading?
Me: *a little excitement that someone is really interested in what I have to say* WELL, IT'S
OUR train pulls up
Him:  That's our train, gotta go - he runs  *facepalm*

UnFUCKINGbelievable!!  No wonder his bitch ass was whooped.  I wanted to KICK HIS ASS!  I mean we are going on the SAME FUCKING TRAIN!

WTF?????  

I sit and calmly breathe in.  A woman sits across from me.

Oscar from across the train:  Hey!  GRACEY, thanks for the talk.  I hope I see you tomorrow!

*FACEPALM*  I need another way to get to work and home or I am just going to throw myself onto the tracks!

Goodbye 2012

Well 2012 it's time to say goodbye.  I can't think of a thing that I will miss of you, but I shall give a synopsis of the year you gave me:

• The start of the year left me looking for a new home, quite a task in the bitter cold.
• More cut backs for trains so commute is even longer, yay.
• Food prices went up...thanks for the diet.
• Lost my best friend...Kudos for that one.
• What was left of the family finally went their own way.  Nothing like spending the rest of the year like an orphan.  THANKS!
• Got a raise that allowed me to buy a whole gallon milk instead of half gallon.  WOOHOO!
• An ex-worker told me to go F&*K myself because I suggested he not be so bitter on social media while looking for work.  That's right 2012, another friend bit the dust.  You're SWELL!
• My health is at its worst and the insurance only pays so much.  Gracias, for dragging that out for the year!
• My car needs brakes and it cost more then the car.  Love the way you kept my stress going!
• I have heard the phrases...'at least you have a job', 'people have it worse', it's Obama's fault about 2012 times.  MAD SKILLS THERE!
• My constant companion was a stink bug that wouldn't leave my apartment, until the day after my once best friend left, he left too.  I see you got JOKES!
• I spent Christmas crying more then when I was told I had cancer years ago.  Now THAT takes mad SKILLS!
• I fell a total of 5 times, permanently damaging my knee and causing headaches on a daily basis.  Not to mention the concrete burns to my elbow and buns which took over a week to heal.  OH 2012!
• I had to hear numerous people speak of their plans for the apocalypse that never came.  Yep, you ROCK!

I'm glad to see you go, hated your stay and will forever remember you as the full year that never was.  My disappointment knows no bounds for you.  Throwing in that Psy gangcrap really was over the top.  And as if you weren't bad enough, you leave us with a Fiscal Cliff crisis.  Talk about a kick on the way out!

Goodbye!  Good riddance! Adios!

12/31/2012