No, what are YOU going to do?

Well. It’s full on Summer in NYC.  Summer sets off a cascade of intense FOMO in the exiled hermit, because there’s just SO MUCH shit going on.  Every year I scramble to get on top of the events, free outdoor movies, free outdoor concerts, museums-turned-dance-parties, free ice creamz, beach outings, topless parades, and multitude of paid shit that’s generally even better than all that rubbish.  I actually do a fairly good job grabbing summer by the balls and squeezing all the sunshiney juices from it.  Continue reading No, what are YOU going to do?

Give it a Rest

I think I’m going to go ahead and give in to my hermit tendencies now.  I may go so far as to drop my facebook account.  I had a particularly frustrating day.  I have basically instituted a policy of accepting every invitation i get from everyone.  I expected this to result in more socializing and maybe even more good times.

Instead it’s just a sack of disappointing.  Today was a prime example.  A girl I met invited me to Prospect Park to hang out with her and some friends.  When I asked where she responded that I should call her when I get there and she’d tell me where they were.  I went.  I called.  She was at home.  Ok. Fine. The park was really nice and no big deal being stuck there alone because I had a book, the sun, the breeze, and hundreds of people enjoying themselves.

Then, I went to a birthday bbq for a friend (acquaintance).  I grabbed a six pack on the way.  When I got to the address, no-one answered the buzzer, the friend didn’t respond to calls or texts.  I went back home carrying the beer the whole hour 15 it took.

I have a large stack of old pictures and old letters here from my childhood home that I rescued from storage recently.  I think I will post some of the letters here on the blog.  They are really something else.  In the meantime I’m gonna wallow in memories and nostalgia.  They should keep me occupied on the brief times when I want company.  Some of the letters are really awesome.  There are quite a few letters wondering why I’ve stopped responding.  I have a lot of bad karma built up if these letters are any indication.

Quick question:  If you were in a band 12 years ago, found some pictures, and posted them to facebook, would you be upset if your bass player and former best friend untagged himself from them?

Days Can Suck

Well, so why does today suck, you might be wondering? Yeah? Ok… first, the medical bullshit.  So I recently got billed for my last visit to the stomach specialist, which was a follow-up to my upper endoscopy, which revealed I have acid reflux… The bill had a charge for a test that wasn’t done.  And now i’m wondering if I should report these assholes to my insurance provider, because they have cut me a check for the amount and they also put a nice toll-free number on it for reporting insurance fraud.  So I called the doctor to see how he would react.

And this is why I sometimes love but mostly hate this fucking city.  You are forced to constantly and actively fight for yourself.  It happens when you get a sandwich at a deli, it happens when you buy an apartment, and apparently it happens when you see a specialist about your recent diagnosis of GERD.  The other guy is ALWAYS testing your boundaries, trying to squeeze you for as much as they can, or trying to get away with doing as little as possible, and it can be a good way to build up some more aggressive skills.  But it gets OOOLLLDDDDD. Especially when people who are supposed to be taking care of you get pushy.

So the guy was like, “So what, it was like 3 dollars more?” And I’m like, no it was six.  But that’s not the point.  So he asks, “Well then what do you want to happen?”

Fuck.  If only I had prepared a list of possible ways they could make this up to me beforehand.  I wasn’t ready for him to put it back on me, but it’s a pretty classic maneuver here in the city, so I should’ve been.  Anyway, my response was that if i ever actually DO have to have this test done, they need to do it for free. “Ok, sure.” he said. “Is that all?”

Asshole.  Of course it won’t be that simple in the unlikely event that i really do need the test.  First off, I will have gone to a different specialist because I’ll be damned if I EVER go back to that prick.  Which brings me to the other part of that whole episode that has got me all upset: I called my general practice doctor to see if he had received all the test info from the stomach guy (the tests they actually ran) and the receptionist put my doctor on the phone.

He said, “Your guy left me a note about your endoscopy.”

Oh… yeah, he didn’t have much to say to me about it. -me

“Well, there’s a note, and it says…blah blah blah hiatal hernia blah blah”

WHAT?!  Hernia?!?!  Well they didn’t tell me about that.

“Oh, it’s relatively small, he says. Not worth getting fixed.”

So my “specialist” who I have seen twice now forgot to mention that there actually is a specific CAUSE for my acid problem.  ASSHOLE!  So now I’m not sure what to do.  Pay him or report him?  I’m leaning toward reporting him.  But that feels like a surefire way to land me some negative karma.  I’m torn.

In other news, facebook has started suggesting events that multiple friends are going to.  This seems like a good idea except in the cases where I wasn’t invited…. which happened today.  This chick i invited to my st paddy’s day thing next week (which i have canceled due to lack of interest…that empty page of attendees was making me fucking depressed) and who was at a party i went to this weekend invited basically everyone on her friends list EXCEPT me.

And I’m sure it’s because I made her friend cry.  Which I would go into but I’ve already beaten that horse to death elsewhere.  Basically, this girl likes me but I’m not rich enough for her so she keeps me at arm’s length.  She also has some serious emotional issues (having confessed to me once that she has cheated on every guy she’s ever been involved with).  And when she asks me my opinion on her situation I tell the truth.  I even candy coat it to protect her delicate feelings, but it doesn’t matter.  She acts like I’ve called her a terrible monster and gets weepy and righteously mad at the same time.  It happened at the party.  Her friends hate me now (again).  Life gets messy sometimes.