Nando & His return to Brooklyn

It's been a while and a lot has occurred since I last wrote.

I'm no longer with,  Joe, my partner of 2 yrs. Some one once said that love changes  forms....and I believe that now. But I'm doing good and it's been one  month since the separation and I am back in Brooklyn, on my own. I do need  the comfort and support of friends, and I have been out of  touch with everyone.....really just trying to find myself  again.

And I think I'm  getting there.

Sunday morning at 6am, I went out for a jog (the first time in my life).

I decided to get  familiar with my "hood." (I use that kind of  vocabulary because I live in  Brooklyn  now) I put on my jogging  shoes and reached for my ipod, and took off like a rocket.

Before Lisa Lisa and the Cult Jam could reach  the 2nd chorus of "Head to Toe" I was  out of breath and feeling severe heart pains. It brought back  memories of when I was an over weight child in  Odessa having to participate  in my school's physical education "health week" There  were 3 kinds of kids that  participated. The athletic kids who lived for health week, the kids who were too  cool for health week, and then there was the group I was in...The "out of  shape kids group" who brought in hand written notes from  their mother (it was really  Cousin Randy who write the note) that would excuse them from health week due  low thyroid count.

I remember the one  time that the coach didn't accept my note and made me run the mile lap. BIG  MISTAKE. Before I reached the first marker, which was  approximately 8 yards from where I  started, I felt deep pains in my heart region and passed out on the dirt  track. The next thing I knew, I was on my way to the hospital in an ambulance with Ms. Neimi, my 4th grade substitute teacher. Ms. Neimi was our substitute teacher for 1/2 the year, because our original Teacher, Mrs. Huddleston, had a heart attack in the middle of showing us how to curl our "R" when writing cursive. At first we thought Mrs. Huddleston was playing but after Mike, the class bully, threw a eight spit wads at her and she didn't get up, we  knew something wasn't right. Ms. Neimi,  a hefty woman with huge dark  circles under her eyes, wasn't the nicest  of substitute teachers.

Looking back, I think  she hated  children. She was pale as snow and always wore brown over sized t-shirts with polyester matching pants. "Hi, my name is Ms. Neimi." She'd touch her knee and say 'KNEE' then point to herself and say "ME'. "If you can't get the name, don't play the game," she'd say. Many times during our  "quiet time" she'd tell us about her claustrophobia disorder and push us out of her way. Needless to say, after the ambulance situation, I never had to participate in "health week" again.
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So as you can imagine, jogging is massive progress for  me.

Back in   Brooklyn , I stopped for a quick breather and admired a black lacquer t.v. stand some one had decided to throw out. My heart was racing, my blood was  pumping....not from the jog...but from FREE STUFF out of the corner!  I couldn't believe it......I was in my  element....no...not digging thru trash......but thinking "thrifty" because I did  need the stand. (although I would have to get a TV for it  eventually....) I called my roommate (it's 6:30am now) and explained  in the most chirpy voice that exuded happiness and joy,  how this beautiful piece of furniture was in great  condition and I needed him to pick me up in his car in order to take  it back to the apt, since it was too heavy to carry. He said no and hung up. I began to walk away crushed and crippled from the emotional negativity.

Just then, I noticed a rather large lady wearing a red scarf with tiny bears on her head, eating crackers, sitting on a fold out chair a few feet away. I ran up to her and said, "I will be right back to pick  this up, will you be out here for a while?" She inserted  one more cracker in her mouth, chewed, swallowed, then said, "No English...only  RRRRrrusian." I pointed to the TV stand, she shrugged, then  said,  "No English...only RRRRrrusian." I pointed to my watch and then to her chair and she shrugged some more. I pointed to me, the stand, my watch, and her  chair...she shrugged, ate a cracker, and turned away. It was then that I decided it wasn't meant to be. It made sense though. How could I communicate with some one who didn't even make an effort. She wouldn't even stop eating the crackers.....Surely a monkey would be able to piece together that my pointing to random trash on the street and then to a watch and a chair would signify me wanting to have them wait there so no one else would claim my treasure. Eventually, I ran back home and secretly began to plot  revenge on my roommate.‍

The moral of the  story:‍

a) Never take up jogging

b) Learn Russian in order to communicate with cracker  eating ladies,

c) Never move in with a roommate who refuses to get up  at 6:30am on a Sunday morning.