A Pile of Dog Bones

“In each of us two natures are at war… the good and the evil. All our lives the fight goes on between them, but one of them must conquer. In our own hands lies the power to choose. What we want most to be we are.” – Dr. Henry Jekyll

Monday, November 13, 2006

Ooogle Monday... Lost For An Ooogle

So today is once again Ooogle Monday. I have to be honest... I was a little lost when it came to thinking of an Ooogle theme... so I decided on Lost for more than one reason. So here is the Lost Ooogle...That is Josh Holloway. I heard he was considered a hawty. I don't see it... I hope the harem does...
That is Elizabeth Mitchell in her younger years... before The Santa Clause 2, before CSI, before ER, and definately before Lost. She was a hawty then... and now... when you take into consideration Tim Allen has had his paws on her... well she was a hawty then.


So yesterday was e-mail and phone call day. I suppose I'll talk about the phone call first. It came from my old partner Freakzilla. Since I saw the call was from him I answered it with my usual ghetto superstar, "Wassup nigga?"

He countered with "So tell me, where was your cracker buffing ass 5 years ago today?"

Now I knew the answer... I was on The Rock. No, not Alcatraz! The Rock in New York is more formally known as Far Rockaway and is basically an island that sits off of southern Queens and Brooklyn which is home to a number of neighborhoods. The area became culturally famous through The Ramones song, Rockaway Beach.

So 5 years ago Freakzilla and I were on The Rock working. It wasn't our normal place of operation although we would get re-deployed down there if the battalion ran short during the winter from bangouts which it frequently did. But that morning... well the first report of a plane crash had come over the frequency around 9:20am. We would learn later on that it was American Airlines Flight 587 that was bound for the Dominican Republic.

We were in the middle of a tour change... so all four of us jumped into the truck and headed down there. We gave the dispatcher a 15 minute ETA which beat everyone else coming from the mainland... and even though later on the dispatcher would claim he never assigned us the call and that we had acted on our own, no charges were ever brought against us. The fact was simple... we were recorded as saying 15 minutes, we were there in 14 minutes, and unlike the vast majority of the units on the scene we actually transported a live patient. The fact that we blew through the safety line may have had something to do with that... but wtfeva.

So Freakzilla told me that they had finally finished the memorial and dedicated it. The memorial is at Beach 116 Street... which is kinda of odd because we were staged at Beach 130 Street. So that puts the memorial around 15 blocks off from the site. I'm sure there was something about it in the papers... but I never caught it.

We agreed that sometime this week we would have to go... if for no other reason than to see what the memorial looked like... but in reality it's to go and remember that yeah, 5 years ago we made it happen under a cloud of black smoke and the sound of jet fighters overhead. Maybe something there will remind us why we did it. It's becoming harder to remember as each day goes by why we did the things we did... and understand why we no longer have the gumption to do them.

Which kinda brings me to the e-mail... and no it isn't hatemail or anything, which kinda reminds me I really haven't had a very hateful post recently, so obviously I need to scour the 'net some more to find something to rage about, not that I would get any hatemail because I never do because I don't rate, but I am digressing. So I've been all NaNoWriMoing along after having taken Saturday off from it. I had sent the first 8,000 or so words to a friend I have in California for him to read and tell me what he thought.

He sent me an e-mail reply last night. The e-mail was pretty short. In fact it was 5 words long, and 2 of those words were his signature. So the 3 words comprising the meat of the message was, "It lacks passion." Yeah. Not much of a critique you would think... but enough for me. Part of me wants to say, "Well no shit fucktard, this isn't the passion project. Next time you get cornered for card counting in AC don't expect me to help you out, dick." But then another part of me, the part that knows that yes he is indeed being honest and blunt would say, "Yeah, you're right."

It puts me in that odd position of taking a realistic look at my shamble of a life. Admittedly, I need to refresh my certification before April 2007. The class I was in, well, let's just say I didn't quite make it to the challenge and then my week in the hospital had me miss three mandatories in a row and there is no way I'm making that up. So I need to refresh again in January... but I really am so not into it. I kinda feel about my card now how I felt about my IV and Intubation certification 6 years ago... why the fuck bother? I had wanted to be able to fall back on some sort of potential writing career. Yet... when there's no passion fueling me... I suck.

Hence why this was a Lost themed Ooogle today... because ultimately I'm feeling a little lost in what to do with myself. I know this is a temporary feeling... or at least I hope it is. Probably fueled by the fact I'm working yet another overnight/morning double and that this weekend I really didn't do anything great except have coffee with Christine, see that Borat movie alone, and for some reason something that happened awhile ago decided to creep back in and give me that oh so guilty feeling.

Maybe its that time of month for me. I just feel so damn blah and life is sucky. Of course the last time I got all introspective and shit I landed in the hospital the next day... so if for some reason you don't hear from me... well don't get all worried and shit. I have a failsafe notification plan in place so people won't worry. The Lifestatus bar in the sidebar I guess moves too slow.

Posted by New York City's Watchdog :: 11/13/2006 02:22:00 AM :: :: 8 Bones Added to the Pile

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