Hey Vinny!

So Vincent is coming to my house to live, not Vincent Murphy. Well, technically yes Vincent Murphy because that's what the vet will put on his papers. Vincent (the cat) Murphy will be leaving Petsmart in the hands of yours truly on Friday at 12:00.
I'm excited.
I'm scared.
I need a door that I can put a cat door in.
I need a cat door.
I need to pay a lot of attention to Missy so she doesn't feel left out.
I need to make sure that Missy doesn't eat the cat immediately.
I need to finish grading papers.
Bye Ya,
MNYAGG

LOST

If you like LOST, you know there aren't too many episodes left. The LOST Tribe and I are gonna have to find something else to do. After all we're a tribe. We can't just disband. The obvious choice is to switch to V Night, but I'm not too sure how that show's doing. Suggestions anyone? What am I gonna do when it all ends?

MNYAGG
P.S. The humane society did not respond to my adoption application yesterday. Now I know how those people feel when they're waiting for eastern European kids with big heads and crusty eyes. Just sayin'.

Back to the body shop

So Ruby's going back to the body shop this morning thanks to the unnamed driver who hit her, and I am desperately trying to find a door that can be modified to have a cat door. Why do I want a cat? This was the topic of last night's conversation with B (my roommate) as the cold settled in around my feet. Well, I knew it would happen. It's a big decision, taking on another pet, and I found myself saying things like "if Missy can't handle it that cat's going back to the humane society." It probably didn't help that B said that Missy won't be the number one pet anymore. Of course she will. But deep down I honestly think Missy needs this as much as I do. She's alone all day some days, and with B's "schedule" and mine there really is somebody in this house all the time.
So does anybody have a door that could be cut to let Zeus (who I might rename Vincent) come and go between the house proper and hid litter box on the back porch? Maybe I should have thought of this before I filled out the adoption application.

Have a great week, and tune in for pictures of "Zeus", hopefully not Zeus being eaten by Missy.

MNYAGG

Well Ruby's home . . .

but she's going back to the shop again. Did they do a poor repair job? No. As a matter of fact she looked beautiful. Notice the tense on that verb. When Ruby was parked on D's street this afternoon, while I was in his apartment doing my taxes, she got hit. I shit you not. The car I just got back from teh body shop this morning got hit this afternoon.
That is some crazy, crazy shit. Don't you think?
MNYAGG

Good Lord Internet!

What did I ever do to you except give you my undying love and attention? Yet you betray me and make me call three different phone numbers to resolve my issues with Time Warner.
Well, I made a late birthday cake (so far so good) and watched a movie while I did all this, so really should I be complaining? And I finished for good the creative nonfiction piece I've been working on since winter break, 22 pages all about me. Gross!

But I'm scared of what will happen when I disconnect this LAN cable. I feel like I have to do every little online thing before the bulb goes out, so to speak. I mean really, bills to pay, blogs to check (Clark, where's that new photo?), etc. Well, I'd better go. Have a great weekend.

MNYAGG

No Time To Blog

I'm actually at my desk at work where I should be finishing the prep for my bus com class this afternoon, so do I really have time for this? No, but I'm doing it any way. Tomorrow I will bake a coconut lime cake (lime curd in the middle) belatedly for someone's birthday. It will either be a great success or a stunning failure, like most things I do.

I am nervous.

This weekend was going to be power washing and painting part of the house so I can have a vegetable bed in the front flower bed (the one with the shrub, the picture of which is still on Zillow) that was destroyed when I had the $1,000. plumbing job done. Yes, I said was because I found out that it is GOING TO BE 9 DEGREES IN CLINTON, NY THIS WEEKEND! So I got a reprieve to do more yardwork. Lucky me!

What are you doing this weekend? Bring your rake to Clinton, NY for a fun time with prizes and alchohol.

Spring Resolutions

Maybe the reason why people (okay, me) don't get New Years resolutions done is because we try to carry them out in the dead of winter when just getting through the day ought to be proof enough that we have resolve. So I'm proposing spring resolutions. Here are some of mine:
I'm not going to eat chocolate in bed even though there are three big candy bars and three bags of Easter candy in my bedside table. I bought them for Pin and Big, so maybe (notice this is not a definite) I should mail them to them.
I'm going to get the house power washed this weekend even if it's too rainy to start painting the section that needs to be done before I can get my raised bed in front (long story, but there's no more bush there thanks to an huge plumbing job last fall) ready.
I'm going to maintain a positive attitude about my upcoming online class (summer, bus com) even though I'm not convinced Angel is not the "delivery mechanism" for this kid.
I'm going to stop thinking that I'm so deprived because I'm trying to eat like a healthy adult rather than a six year old whose parents indulge her. And I'm not going to blame Mrs. Murphy for actually letting me be indulged as far as food goes. Really, isn't that water under the bridge? Maybe I should blame Mr. Murphy because he's the one who took me to the Sears' candy counter on Saturdays, but really who can blame him? I was a pretty cute (and really skinny) little kid at the time.
I'm going to stop waking up freaked out because I had another dream. It must be a side effect of the Savella, but I'm not used to dreaming. Having dreams doesn't mean I have to spend the first fifteen minutes of my day pondering their characters, events, settings, whatever. They are dreams; it's what I do while I'm awake that matters.

How about you? Any spring resolutions you'd like to put down in print?
MNYAGG

No Internet!!!!!!

at home. It's my fault. I had a great post too, but it involves pictures and such. Hopefully, Nick will bring a LAN cable to my house tonight. Hopefully I'll be back soon.
MNYAGG

It's spring and you know what happens in spring

That's right, it's almost National Poetry Month, that time of year when poets get all juicy because they think that since there's a month for it maybe people actually read poetry. And I'm right there with the rest of them, so I'm gonna kick it off, albeit early, with two poems from that little little known poet, me. These were just published in Yes, Poetry.

THIS IS NOT A POEM ABOUT ICARUS

As if he didn’t fly toward that sun when the sky was sliced in two,
Choosing instead to turn north toward colder climes, whereupon
His wax and feathers froze and Odin spoke saying “all curious boys
Commend themselves to wrong turns sometimes, but you flew
Right and straight this time, handing off the burdens of avarice and
Infamy.” Icarus, not knowing what to say really, surveyed the heights
To which he had aspired. He counted one: I am going to cast out all
My hopes of warmth, and two: freedom’s just another word for
Nothin’ left to lose. The song ringing true in his head, Icarus looked up
And saw his blood blue number written on the sky. “When I am 33,”
He said, “I will die then and all the world will love me.”





ALIEN, MY LOVE MONSTER

Far away, you dream my belly
The one with the line down the middle
Through which babies came sprawling into the world
The one you’ve neither seen nor touched
Years ago I went to New York in spring
And bought you a book, first edition
Signed by a poet you loved and emulated
Your lines like his held out only so much
Until restraint took over
Secrets back in the box, yours, his, mine
The book my small offering to what you wanted
As March took over from the longest winter of our lives
Now we walk such different streets, you and I
My drum is syncopated to the only rhythm I know
Yours to everyone else’s
I like my drum better than yours
Now when the sky streaks toward the West with cold pink fingers
Pointing “come home” I will think of you and the book I put away



Yeah that's me. I was glad to see "Alien, My Love Monster" go somewhere. It's an important poem to me. So who wants to do/come to a poetry reading?
MNYAGG

As promised

pictures of the devastation in Bergenfield, NJ after Hurricane John Doe came through over the weekend. I have to say that being without power is only fun for about four hours, not 27. My parents are sure good sports. Thank goodness the Panda House had a generator and the Sub King pizza (which is very good Nicky) came right before the power went out and all the roads were closed.

Happy St Patrick's Day. My father is singing Danny Boy this morning today in honor of Daniel Tade Murphy, his Irish father who fled Erin because he'd stolen chickens. I'm having a party tonight. The St. Pat's Parade in Bergenfield was postponed on Sunday and I hope they get to have it today. It is truly cool. I'm putting up random storm photos taken within a few blocks of my folks' house over the weekend. The one of Mr. Murphy is from when we had power and he was waiting for me to give him a haircut. The one of me was taken in my parents' upstairs bathroom cause when I get bored I take pictures of myself sometimes. Don't you?

What's your favorite St. Paddy's Day memory?

Dear Blog,

When I get a minute I promised to put up photos of north Jersey and the devastation that Hurricane John Doe left behind. Suffice it to say that the Murphys were lucky. Six people died in various horrible ways. We had no power for 27 hours, and Aunt Grace and Uncle Dave still have none. More later.
MNYAGG

Vincent Murphy

is not doing so well. I guess for 99 he's doing as well as can be expected. But he was up at night a couple of times, and when I came down this morning at 6:15 I found a worried Mrs. Murphy waiting for me. I'll call the family doctor at 9:00, who will most likely say "take him to the emergency room." That's the standard procedure when you're 99.

Yesterday I walked past Cooper's Pond, where Mr. Murphy used to take me to feed the ducks and geese, and there were young moms there with their little kids. It made me sad and happy at the same time because the pond was closed for several years, all fenced off, and nobody was able to take their little kids there. My father used to tell me stories, great stories that I will have here in my heart forever, and take pictures of me. I am squinting against the sun in some; in others I am pinch faced because some goose just nipped a bread crust from my hand. I'm glad that Coopers Pond is open again, but I wish I could take Mr. Murphy there.

Yesterday I cut his hair and took a picture of him with a moist red washcloth on his head, waiting for my scissors and the shaver. I'll post it later.

I'll let you in on a secret. I want Mr. Murphy to live forever. I am sad.

MNYAGG

Wrapped It!

in a combination of tissue paper and plain heavy white paper. So today is my honey's birthday and I don't think I should post too much cause he, unlike me, is a rather private person. This is the situation I faced when I was finishing my memoir for my creative writing class. I got to the part where I was going to talk about him and realized that he wouldn't appreciate any "tell all" qualities that might imbue my prose. So here's what I did:

And now I should write another 22 pages devoted to him, right?
Well no, because I’m too busy living my life with him to sit around and write about it. Recently I asked him what the most negative aspect of our relationship was. And he thought about it, really thought about (for two days) because he knew the question had been hard for me to ask. And when he answered that he wished he’d known I was so dead set against marriage when we’d started, I wondered if he wouldn’t have started. And so it is complicated, I was right. But hanging in that closet at my parents’ house is proof that some things have so much worth, so much bright and shining luster, that they’re worth it somehow.
So that’s it? That’s a cheesy piece of shit ending if there ever was one.
Yes, that’s it – deal.

Okay, so the above is taken out of context, so it's hard to tell how brilliant the whole piece it, just sayin'. But this isn't about me, it's about our birthday boy. It's about six years of relationship bliss (say what? after all most people who look at this blog know me). It's about a guy who is a great friend, colleague, (other more than pg rated stuff), son and just plain all around great guy. So Happy Birthday unnamed, identity protected dude whoever you are.

Y oTo Hear Me World

Life is good for a change, I mean really good. Just wanted to say that. Two days until D's birthday and I just have to figure out how to wrap that crazy thing.

Spring Break

and I'm going to New Jersey. Let's hope it gets a bit more springlike. I'm not leaving until Tuesday though, because Monday is D's birthday, either 44th 0r 45th. I'm not sure which, and it doesn't help that he keeps saying he's 28.

We're going to go to Philly after I go to Jersey, but only if the weather's good down there. There has to be walking weather, no snowing. I can take a little rain, but I AM DONE WITH SNOW. Hear me world? I AM DONE WITH SNOW!

Biggie Head sent me a photo from Portland, OR yesterday of a tree in full bloom. Children can be so cruel.

What are you doing for spring break?

99!

Well my father Vincent Murphy turned 99 yesterday. When I talked to him on the phone he sounded great, cheerful and adorable as usual. Here are some interesting things I'd like you to know about my father:
He had a boat when he was a kid. He kept it in Sheepshead Bay and once he took it up the Hudson River to see what was up there.
He grew up living in the Harlem Courthouse, in an apartment on the top floor with his widowed mother and five other siblings.
He should have been a photographer instead of a UPS man.
He told me once when I was a teenager not to smoke while walking.
He went to the 1924 World's Fair.
His father entered all of his redheaded children as "A Bunch of Carrots" in the Harlem, NY Baby Parade, and they won prize they were awarded onstage at the Apollo Theater.
Often people think he is my grandfather; sometimes my mother even tells me to call your grandma to come in for dinner.
He gave me a childhood that included tall tales, trips to the Sears nut and candy counter, and photos taken at Coopers Pond.
I love him so much words really cannot do it justice.

If you can, hug your father today. I'll have to wait until next week to hug mine.

MNYAGG