Ms. Synge's Neighborhood or Hell's Kitchen: It Ain't Just a Myth if You'e a Pig!

I'm tired of writing about and living with pesky 'ol cancer as an everyday entity. He really cramps my style, and frankly bores the shit out of me. I've had it, okay? So for now, I'm trying to completely ignore his existence in our lives (and in Maman's body) in the completely unrealistic hope that he'll just go away. Yes, I've personified cancer...he's actually a pretty funny character. But I won't tell you about him. Not today. Because that would be acknowledging him, and I've already written the word cancer far too much for someone who's supposed to be ignoring its existence. Why do you make me do these things? Sneaky internet!

Today I thought I'd take you on a little tour of my neighborhood and show you some of the interesting sights I see every day as I head into work because I love you and I wanted to share my world with you. Also, I was procrastinating my actual arrival, and this lovely idea popped into my head. Damn convenient, huh? What was inconvenient was that I don't own a digital camera smaller than my head, so I was forced to use a crappy cell phone camera instead. First up, we have one of many hooch houses. These are the most important landmarks in my world, and luckily, there seems to be one almost every 5 blocks. We like our booze here in Hell's Kitchen, and we even have about 9 bars to go with every alcohol emporium. We also have all the hard core drunks hanging around Port Authority threatening to vomit on you as you head into work at 11am, but hey, that's just one of the things that makes the neighborhood so special.

Oh, and by we I probably mean me. Except for the vomit part. I hope.

Here we have the awesomely addictive 99 cent pizza shack. located conveniently right beside the farmer's market, so the dueling signs advertise farm fresh produce and 99 cent pizza. Guess which seems to always be more popular? This place is open 24 hours, and in the wee morning hours you are guaranteed to find at least one bonafide crackhead hanging around trying to score a slice. Its total crap, but WB and I like it better than any of the brick oven pizzerias near us. Its the crack, of course.
Its amazing how much more you see when you stop to photograph the roses in life....things that may have escaped your attention before as you rushed about your day. And weren't you really actually kind of lucky for that? I've passed by this meat market (no I'm not being euphemistic, its literally a meat market) every day for some time and only realized today the grotesque horror which lay within. Yes, folks, these are actual pigs' feet. And they look like actual little piggy feet....decapitated piggy feet! This little piggy went to market, only there he got chopped up and his little feetsies put on display to make innocent folks just passing by upchuck the 99 cent pizza they just scarfed down! No one warned me the rhyme ended like that!
When I think of the finest in American cuisine, two main things spring to mind. Yes folks, here they are together at least, the culinary king and queen, united for your dining pleasure. (and Zagat rated to boot!)
And last but not least, we have the creepy evil pig which hangs out outside of Rudy's Bar. He's clearly a vagabond and up to no good...cavorting with the creepy clown from Circus bar a block or two up. He'd better watch it, or he's gonna be sent downtown a few blocks....to the market....need I say anymore you evil piggy in a bellhop disguise? And as one would certainly ascertain by the friendly smiling paper mache pig welcoming everyone inside, this dark chamber of horrors then serves up free hot dogs to go with their cheap beer.

The lesson of today's little jaunt is that clearly the hell in Hell's Kitchen ain't no innocuous name....if you're a pig.

And I clearly need a fabulous digital camera that takes wonderful pictures AND is smaller than my head.

[hint hint hint......]

Its a CHunky CHanukah and CHristmas!

This is my super awesome friend I did a show with last year. She's here to wish you a happy holiday from me. Well, really it was a spot for MTV and probably got her some mad cash and thaht's why she's doing it. I'm just co-opting her work really. Anyway, Happy Holidays!

Don't I have awesomely talented friends?

Beware the Milky Pirate! Words to Live By

Monthary #8

Tonight is the Wild Boar and the Blue Monkey's 8th monthary. And the above is a very unflattering cell phone picture taken to stave off the throes of hospital boredom during the last 12 hour transfusion for Maman. Just felt the need to explain why we're unshowered, sans makeup, and, well... pink.

Now 8 months is nothing in the grand scheme of things, I am well aware of this (so back off all ye of the many yeared relationships), but lets consider 2 very important facts when examining why this is a pretty big deal in Synge-land.

1. Cancer (Maman's, I'm still cancer free as of right now) and the overwhelming familial obligation that accompanies it do not exactly create ideal circumstances in which to cultivate a happy healthy and successful relationship. Neither do the million and one crying jags the Boar has been subjected to. Not to mention the nonstop travelling, all encompassing exhaustion, and misplaced anger. I'll stop here, you get the picture.

We were a mere month and a half into this relationship when the doctors cut into Maman's brain and all our lives, forever changing the landscapes therein. We were relationship zygotes, still forming and learning in our giddy little microcosm that we believed was impenetrable. Yeah, umm, well we were a little wrong there.

Diamonds are the strongest known natural materials in existance, as well as being among the most coveted. These treasures are created under conditions consisting of immense and unfathomable pressure. I'd like to think the same principles of creation can be extended to relationships, and that we are forging the world's strongest relationship ever. Its certainly proving itself to be, considering the rigeurs it has already withstood in a mere 8 months. (Also, my therapist, Lady Charon, says we are incredibly solid...and if your therapist says you have a solid relationship, than you really probably do considering they make money off of your instability.) We're creating the fuckin' Hope Diamond of relationships, only without the shitty luck.

2. This is me we're talking about here. I don't exactly bear the most glorious track record when it comes to men. In fact, I was going to add a few links here to prior posts, and relaized that I would have to link to pretty much the entire blog pre-Boar. This makes 8 months in a happy healthy relationship not merely a big deal but a fuckin miracle when you think about it!

And our relationship is more than happy and healthy - it is fourth of july fireworks, birthday cake, presents, and unicorn magic all at once. Its its own damn theme park is what it is! He makes me deleriously joyous, to which I say its about fucking time. I have found the perfect fit of man, even on bloaty days, and I relish every single mooshy gooshy ridiculously cheesy gesture we share. He makes me pee in my pants laughing on a regular basis, while never faulting me for having wet pants. That, my dear internets, is priceless.

(the fabulous bounce-back-in-the-sack doesn't hurt either...)

Old and Bewildered

I was just in the kitchen at the sdj (stupid day job for the anagramically challenged), making more shit soup, and my co-workertrons were all discussing some complex Christian metaphor regarding the whole Star Wars trilogy empire. According to their theory, Anakin Skywalker was an immaculate conception and therefore was like Jesus but then he went to the dark side so he's really Lucifer or something like that. Evidently the extended metaphors abound across the board.

Yawn.

I love Star Wars immensely and hold it on its revered pedestal as the huge childhood influence it was (in fact I have never really gotten over the painful memories of a million unfulfilled promises regarding the ability to be the Princess Leah figurine in exchange for cleaning my brother's room...which always ended up in me being yoda, an honor I did not comprehend at such a tender age and also somehow yoda morphed into a total Jewish mother constantly offerring Luke some nice hot chicken noodle soup in a voice that my brother made me replicate until the day he died and my mother still brought up the other day...and...oh, ahem, where was I?), but I couldn't give less of a shit about this Darth Vader is Lucifer crap. What I do care about, and why I'm even bothering to share this story, is the fact that one of the young co-workertrons at the sdj HAS NEVER EVER SEEN A SINGLE STAR WARS MOVIE!! Now I've always tended to be on the pop culturally illiterate side of the fence my whole life, so I'm not one to throw stones, but how could you never have seen a single Star Wars movie?? There are a gagillion of them! Its a huge part of our collective cultural lexicon as human beings! The last remaining cannibal tribe discovered was familiar with The Empire Strikes Back and Return of the Jedi ! Did you grow up in a vacuum? I was so deeply disturbed and in a severe state of shock (I mean its a scary thing indeed when I am in awe over someone else's lack of pop culture knowledge) that I could not refrain from asking:

Synge: Can I ask you a really tacky and rude question? Ummm, how old are you?

SDJ Co-workertron: 25

Synge: Oh. I guess maybe that explains it.

I feel old and bewildered now. Especially bewildered.

Enjoy Your Shit Soup

I haven't updated for some time due to a newly developed phobia of making statements other than "I'm so tired". I could've written...I could've written every night last week, to combat the overwhelming lonliness that invaded our home when the love of my life was replaced by his absence (made tangible in pillow form, of course, because I am indeed that pathetic and he is indeed that much a part of my life). Instead I watched television. Anyone who knows me in the slightest is now gasping in shock and panic, as this is indeed a very serious statement. Yes, I was that depressed, and that lost, that I actually turned on the television. Even worse...I watched channels that were not PBS. My world is collapsing.

I was rescued from my self pity stupor by my best friend and big sister, Chanteuse, who opened her home and her arms (as she always does) for me to run into to hide from cancer, lonliness, and the fact that I've been feeling like the walls are closing in on me and I just can't take any of this anymore. And her expansive arms, heart, and liquor and wine cabinet provided the respite and comfort I was indeed craving. Since my brother died, I've always said there's noone that knows you or will ever know you like a sibling does, and no one who has to be there for you no matter what. Chanteuse and I have proven that the same thing applies to chosen siblings, and that fact and reality are stored in my personal treasure chest as the precious cargo they are. Saturday night we had the grown up version of a slumber party (ie same gossip with copious amounts of wine thrown into the mix) and Sunday we made homemade ornaments for my very first Christmas tree ever (yes, WB celebrates Christmas so the Chanukah grinch has taken leave this season). We were crafty, crazy, and cuddly...the perfect runaway weekend if you ask me.

The Wild Boar gets home tonight...in fact, I'll actually leave work at a decent hour to go home and get the apartment in some semblance of order (ie kick shit under the bed) and then I'm off to Newark airport for the 2nd time today, as my beloved did not bring any sort of appropriate winter garb with him and it will be less than 30 degrees when he gets here. I somehow think a zipup sweatshirt won't really cut for an island boy caught in freezing temperatures. Five more hours, and all that is good will be restored in my world.

In the meantime, I'm going to enjoy my lunch, oh so appetizingly dubbed by that self same big sister shit soup. There's a whole huge extended metaphor there, but I have neither the time nor the energy to explore it. Sometimes you just gotta eat your shit soup and refrain from examining it all that closely, you know?