Waiting in the line

To pay a month-late bill, yesterday I went to a bank near where I live. There was a long line of people waiting to get to the teller inside and in front of the ATM machines outside. Waiting was not a problem for me though, because I had nothing to do better than doing a little people watching.

Five minutes after I entered the bank and I settled for a good spot to wait for my turn and observe people. One lady started to complain about the bank's queue system according to which you get a number depending on what kind of a customer you are. If you are a frequent customer and have an ATM card of that bank you get a different number than a customer who is, like me, just there to pay a bill. So, that lady, who claimed that she had an ATM card, complained that she waited too long.

Well, I was not agree with her point at that moment. After forty-five extremely boring minutes later, I was as angry as she was and ready to snap at the tellers. Another customer began to protest. Some others joined her. I was so ready to join them and rebel against the bank's manager. However, gradually those angry customers' turn came up and naturally they left the bank leaving other rebells alone and defenseless.

During that long wait, finishing its first hour, I managed to find a seat at last. The man sitting next to me was trying to sneak a peek to my queue number in my sweaty palms. I sensed what he was doing and tried to hide my number as if it were revealing some kind of intimate info about me; like my laziness and not being successful at getting the best number there was. When his turn came, he rushed to the desk. Then I felt a soft touch on my hands. Getting ready to get rid off the bug or fly or whatever was on my hand, I looked at my hand and there I saw a piece of queue paper resting on there with a smaller number than my queue number printed on it. Then I found the man looking at me knowingly and gave ma a slight nod and smiled at me from where he stood.

I smiled back. I thought that there must have been a secret underground resistant group formed discreetly and operates silently against the rude deeds of this bank. Now I was part of that group and my initiation to that group had just taken place. Since I had also several queue numbers at my disposal, I was enthusiastically looking for another candidate. While I was searching the room, my number appeared on the screen. I walked to the booth, finished my job and walked off the bank. Everything happened that fast regardless of that endless waiting period.

I was not a member of that underground organization anymore, I was dismissed instantly.

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By the way, I finally gave up reading Nick Hornby's How To Be Good book after 50 or so pages later. I am rereading Paul Auster's Hand To Mouth. I am in a bit of difficulty exploring new writers who write like Auster. I know the fact that Nick Hornby is absolutely a fantastic writer, no doubt about that; I can't claim it otherwise after seeing High Fidelity. However, How To Be Good is not my cup of tea. I once found Philip Roth's Everyman after doing a search on Amazon, simply by clicking on Explore Similar Items link when I was checking The Brooklyn Follies, another Auster book.

So, can anyone recommend a writer?

What's the deal with me

Today I feel like I am out of focus. I can't concentrate on any god damn thing and I feel very jumpy. Because of those feelings I depreciate myself quite badly. I have to slip myself out of this mess otherwise I will ruin all this week.

I am still looking for a job at which I am not succeeding a bit. Well, that's an old news, isn't it?

Last Saturday, we came together with my wife's friends. They also invited their friends so in the end we were around a dozen or so people gathered. We were in a bar so everybody drunk a little some got tipsy others preferred to drink coffee. We laughed a lot and had a great time. At those times I realized that I worth something. I am not a hopeless case, I told myself. Anyway, it was good hanging out with people.

I guess I have to learn to leave myself alone. I gotta leave a room for my uneasy soul to turn and toss freely, otherwise I feel like I am suffocating myself.

Since the weather is getting gloomier, I hardly want to go outside and take walks with my closest buddy, my iPod. That causes more depression and uneasiness.

Today I have to go out to run some errands. Some Mondays I feel like this, unfortunately. Anyway I have to pull it together.

Ok, I am gonna get dressed and go out.

Immune to bad news

Since I am jobless lately I have plenty of time to follow the news. Every morning I turn on the TV and settle in front of my mac and check the developments both live and online. Gradually I am amazed by my reaction to the news mainly coming from Iraq as well as around the world. Fist of all, the first news I hear or read is about Iraq informing how many people died at any given bomb attacks. Every god damn day I hear this shit. This is unbelievable how we all get used to seeing those bloody scenes and take them as if those were so normal, a daily part of life. We all say, well shit happens, people die everyday and as long as they die over there not here, it is ok. I don't think we truly understand how sad and overwhelming it is to lose a loved over a war or an accident anymore.

Last night, another sleepless night, I thought about the numbers; numbers of people killed in wars, accidents. To get the idea how devastating it is I decided to multiply the number of deaths with the number ten so as to amplify the effect of the lost ones on me. Imagine a situation where 30 people lost their lives due to an unfortunate plane crash, now multiply that 30 with 10 and get 300 people instead. My theory is every individual at least 10 people in their lives who wholeheartedly love that person who lost his/her life in an accident or war. So, that 10 people will directly be effected by one's loss. As a result, in a plane crash where 30 individual lose their lives will badly destroy 300 individuals' life in the end. Therefore, it is not something we can turn our backs to. We do not need to react to a situation only when thousands of people are killed due to any kind of ugly reason. 30 will do the trick; even one actually should be considered enough to react.

New York

I spent some time with the online version of the New York Times and checked out the travel section plus the city section of the paper. Damn I love New York. I've been there three times only but since then I have been looking forward to going back there once more.

There is always something going on in NYC; even you miss one thing, there is something else around the corner waiting for you. I like the small coffee shops, bakeries, the subway, delivery guys on bikes, new yorkers with I-mind-my-own-business faces, central park, diners, street performers, museums, art galleries, bookstores, squares, brown buildings, even homeless guys are all beautiful.

Now I am looking for a job that may make it possible for us to go back to that city to live there for good. You know what, that potential keeps me going. I don't want to be a yuppie there. I want to live a minimalist life with New York in my company. I want to find my favorite spot and have my saturday breakfast along with a local newspaper. I want to go out and see one or two performances over weekends. During weekdays, I want to pass tourists on the street snapping pictures of the time square. I want to buy a cup of coffee and stroll around the union square and browse through handmade craft. I most definitely be a frequent at the comedy clubs there. I would like to know couple of the guys working at the clubs and know comedians. Oh I love stand-up comedy. That's the most fascinating, the most creative and genius art off al time. I am sure I would spend all my money on the comedy clubs there.

Do you see what I mean? I wish I had a chance to go back there and live there. That's what really moves me lately. I hope that I will find a decent job here that makes it easier to move back to NY and find a job there too. Do you think I am asking too much?

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I went out to enjoy today's sunny but chilly weather. I took my iPod with me of course and listened to This American Life's the super theme. They talked about the superintends of buildings on the east side and the west and unearth very interesting stories. Lately, WGBH's Morning Stories are not long enough for me to satisfy my curiosity over what other people are up to.

Sleepy

I am very sleepy today. I was sick right after the new year party. I ate and drank too much and made myself sick. What a big accomplishment !!! Now the weather is foggy today and it makes me sleepy and tired. I usually like this kind of weather; dark and gloomy. However, today I have a very difficult time keeping my eyes open.

Here is the new year and I have been hoping to get something nice, like a job. I realize that I am not a career person. I don't have any plans to be a manager of some company. I just want to earn enough so that I can travel around with my wife.

I am trying to reconnect with my old friends but see sadly that we are way different. My friends who were so afraid to ask a girl out when we were college students now happily married and impatiently waiting to cheat their wives. I have never seen that much insecurity in someone. Now my buddies believe that they became man. A tough guy. I know that they are not going to be able to do that cheating business but they talk about it constantly. I don't give a rat's ass what they do but it is really obnoxious to listen to their pity plans and fantasies. Poor guys, they spent all their college years talking about girls but never dared to ask them out and look at them now, they turned out to be sexually obsessed freaks who, on top of all, confuse their wives with their mothers.