Career Update

Chris and G

Okay, so Sean can scratch office job off his list of potential career paths. I fell into a grove and it was okay, the Yale Club of New York City, with its moneyed members and sticklers for detail. But it felt bad to be idle with so many busy bodies pacing all around me. Certainly not a match for teaching. I guess that's what I call a career update. All the while, I make my mother so much more disappointed in me. We had a talk the other day. She said my father told her outright to get an abortion when she fessed up and said Boy Sean was on the way. The biggest disappointment to me, as far as I alone am concerned, is that she was warned or at least informed and still decided to have me. Women are indeed crazy. Thankfully, I've not come across a woman loose enough in mind to bear me a youngun. And if she did, like my mother she'd, in the future, rue the day.

"Water always seeps to its own level."
Anonymous

Today I'm feeling:

rued

Easy Pickings

"But it was mango season. The mangoes were cheap. They were cool, and sloppy with sweet spicy juice. To a throat rubbed raw by dust, by heat, by the choking soot of traffic, they were perfect. I was slowly beginning to realize that Afghanistan is a 1 percent country. The ninety-nine bad things are what make the one remaining thing so indescribably good.

"... That's Afghanistan. You eat a mango in a mine field. Things that are easy have no flavor."
Excerpt from The Kabul express by Patrick Symmes, c. 2003. From Outside magazine and The best American travel writing, 2004.

A bottle of about 32 sleeping pills will last me quite some time. I'd say about 3/4ths of a year, easily. However, I feel every time I walk into the drug store to re-up, there's less of a deal. I usually get the store brand because what do I care about quality? They could be made in China for all I know. I'm only using the damned things to self medicate. I usually swallow it down with a beer. When times get tough, I start building a tolerance to it. Today I paid 8 bucks for 32 doses. Which is more like 24 doses when I start doubling up in due time. I used to get the same amount, roughly, for half that. The other day I swallowed a dose and slept for 2 and a half hours, the only sleep I had in maybe a 54 hour stretch. But I'm far from sleepy. I'm functioning, doing push ups like madness and doing it without eating anything outside of nectarines too!

This human body is such a trip. It's all subject to the mind. I bet if amputees could train their brains, they could regrow their lost limbs. Then prosthetics would sell only to the weak minded. We'd have an amputee social stratification problem on Earth. Like Robert Frost declared how way leads on to way, the same could be said about problems. In this paragraph alone I've described how emotional problems could lead to drug problems and how physical problems could lead to societal problems. If I'm not a nectarine gone bad, then I must be fermenting.

"you know I gotta get away
fuck that, never let a nigga take me out my zone/
if he try then blow him/
and go 'ooohooooohooohoooo'"
Mobb Deep on Get away

Today I'm feeling:

nickeled, dime and quartered

Man overboard...

Luxembourg Sean

I am not me. Of the trio, I suppose I'm the odd man out. The one to not have performed. I'm the 1 in 3 that will not make it. I lack in resilience. Still, I make up for mountains with spirit. I'm a walking dream. Not for better. I dream to breathe. I dream to keep walking. I dream just to stay alive. I dream of death too. I'm the yellow jacket without the stinger. Why do the other two keep me around? There must be something about me? What is it? It ain't my smile.

I bring the color. I don't give grief. I don't. My half empty glass is all joy. I make time to play. I bring the play time. They claim I'm the more intelligent one. Pppffffftttt! More intelligent than what? I think it's that beige on white distinguishes itself. I'm not stupid, but plaster that across my abstract background and it sort of stands out. The stupid shit I do only makes me look smart.

Get a load of this, I'm profiling myself.

You're your own worst critic playboy.

"Tell me how you got that pretty little face on that pretty little frame girl"
Justin Timberlake on Summer love

Today I'm feeling:

woeful

Got a couple games on the horizon and I'll be sentenced to fire and brimstone before I miss one. Got flag football on Sunday am and basketball late on Monday. Don't know how I'll manage with a broke foot, but my broke wallet hasn't stopped me yet.

I'll be broke until I'm broken.

Parkin' it

Serenity at Washington Sq. Park, NYC

"...I switched my motto, 'stead of saying 'fuck tomorrow'/
that buck that bought a bottle coulda struck the Lotto..."
Nas on Life's a Bitch

"Drawing something is drawing light"
Sukyung Heo, May 2007

Here's Sukyung's (Tiramisu's) philosophy:
There is light in everything. Even the shadows are a result of light. Light is everything. When you draw, you are drawing the light. Every color, everything.

Well put my friend. May your English continue to grow to limitless mastery.

No bar-B-ques, no beach, no anything. But why should I get all up in this Memorial Day action? I don't work. Most use this day as a welcome respite during the season's first really mild weather. But, my whole life is the weekend. And like I give a fuck about soldiers supposedly fighting for some phantom freedom I have in a land far, far away. So, in a matter-of-fact, just another day sort of way, I ain't doing shit.

Today I'm feeling:

lacking in grace

...and substance. Tell me 'bout your days y'all!

Can you hear me now?

My cell phone broke so there'll be no talking to the ladies for me for a while. Alls well though, I hadn't had one for over 2 years until November. Not really tied to it like that. Used to doing without anyways.

Lost my third game of the week. Ridiculous. These are three separate losing teams, and in my defense, it ain't my fault they lose. Tuesday, for example, I couldn't miss for shit. I alone kept us in the game and they still didn't get me the ball. I scored all my points off of broken plays. You see your teammate shooting lights out, why not get him the ball? I'll never understand it.

"They jealous, they wanna step in my spot/
but you could sneeze the rest of your life and won't get the blessings I got"
Sean J of the Field Mob on Smilin'

Ooh, here's a goodie:

"You butter your bread really nice, man. You cover all corners."
That's me paraphrasing my mother's dead ex husband (he was her ex husband long before he was dead, in case you're wondering. They were also divorced long before I came along, so we didn't need Maury to know he's not my father). The only man to call me "Seanie" and make it sound good. He beat the shit out my mother (her account) but he always smiled the good smile. It was no surprise he had a lot of goodies in the quotes department. Here's the breakdown. Say you've got a job, a couple bank accounts, get yourself a nice homestead and a beautiful car. You're all set right? You're happy, no? That's when 'ol Mr. Roy Lee steps in and says "You buttered your bread real nice, man. You covered every corner. Nice, even and smooth." Or some permutation thereof. You get the idea. In other words, you took care of business, didn't put your eggs in one basket, covered all your bases, etc.

So this morning I'm applying the goobers to my toast. As always I do it with precision. All careful-like, you dig? A nice thin layer of goodness. That's sweet, creamy peanut butter and strawberry jam. It goes extremely well with coffee, tea, beer, milkshakes, cheese (for you Leila), ganja, biscuits, fried chicken, pizza, roasted duck in mango salsa with apricot chutney, tacos, chitterlings, gin and juice, you name it! Good stuff. So, my mother whispers to me, all wise-like, you dig? "You butter your bread real nice, man. You cover every corner." Schweet, right? Take that one with you to the bank. Deposit it. Let it garner some fucking interest. Withdraw in about 7 years. Then spring it on your first born. Wait out the chill going down your spine. When your youngster registers it, wink. You dig? All smooth-like.

Today I'm feeling:

Glad my mother is my mother

Good one mama bear. Good one.

Lost in left

Gas price tip: fill up when it's cool (i.e. 3am in the morning), that's when gas is denser and you'll get the biggest bang for your buck!

I saw René Magritte's bowler hat at the 23rd Street R train station in the Flatiron District and am promising a pic.

"Never pray for patience, because God will try it."
Starbucks' employee's mother

Fun stuff! I found a third basketball team. I'm on 4 organized sports teams. I've played 4 basketball games and 1 softball game in the past 7 days and my body is holding up.

And out of left field (speaking of sports, right) I was rung by the quasi Buddhist last night/this morning. I was cordial. But I'm still a bastard. I got to be. Until someone gives me good reason to be otherwise.

Oh, and this jobless thing... I couldn't be busier. My tutee referred me to a new tutee, however, now it's just a matter of the other shoe dropping as assuredly she's only passing me off as she probably knows she no longer needs me.

"Dasawl"
My mother saying 'that's all' as if to sarcastically say "why shouldn't he/she/it?"

And I don't like looking in the mirror because I always see the same motherfucker looking right back at me.

Today I'm feeling:

up to my eyeballs in light frustration

Like the British make time for light refreshments, my life seems to always invite light frustrations. Care to agree or disagree?

Sometimes...

A breezy day at Central Park, NYC in early April

Good timing leads to encounters with good people. The right people at the right time.
Sean Luxembourg, April 2007

So Wednesday night found me at Pete's Candy Store in Williamsburg, Brooklyn for their weekly "quizz off." Insanely hard questions for the insanely geeky types. A good time was had by all. I'll undoubtedly be back if I find a quizz off partner to come with!

Been brushing up on my "come hither" voice lately too. I've been told it's pretty good. But I'm not bragging. All I've got to say is "come hither."

Overheard at McDonald's:
Little boy 1: "I wish we were girls."
Little boy 2: "Ill! Girls are nasty!!"

I love girls. The petite feminine ones in particular. They wear the cutest tiny clothes. Next to mine I feel gargantuan. I can't believe my shoes are that big next to hers! Wow, my hand dwarfs hers (yet somehow they fit so perfectly together, her hand and mine). I think I prefer an adorable girl to a sexy girl. Sexy girls have an air of superiority about them that competes with my fucking ego. You dumb bitch, you're okay but no one cares that you're hot. Adorable girls tend to be understated. You dumb bitch... awe, how could I ever be mad at you? Of course I like your crop cut. It suits you so.

We told you I'm not schizophrenic.

Today I'm feeling:

placated

And today you're going to comment on how you're feeling.

Grave prospects

What started as a rabbit grave will now be devoted to some sort of Spring flora. I guess I'll take a trip out to the local Home Depot and see what colorful, low maintenance plants they've got for sale and maybe plant it in the name of Floyd. I certainly can't ever use it as a grave now, this morning I caught my kitty digging in it! Bad omen. I figured I'd throw some life in there quick (after this current cold spell) and change my poor fortune around.

Art=Gay
Graffiti=Art
Neat little prose spray painted on the tunnel wall at the Manhattan base of the Williamsburg Bridge

I don't know whether it means that graffiti is gay, or it's hetero art?

Today I'm feeling:

drained

Like I can't keep pace with waking up early and coming home late. But I can. I mean, I am. I'm a slave like the rest of us. This fucking blows. Quick, someone, point me in a direction! Comment.

Rest in peace to the boy Floyd

c. 2005-2007

I owe you my first sip of something cool and alcoholic. I hope your final resting place is a cozy one. May your life partner, Piglet, live long and prosperous in your absence. May she find happiness and an appreciation of life without you. And may your airhead master get her act together. I didn't know you long, but you didn't know Earth for too long as it were. Still, our souls touched and for that I wish you bliss in the afterlife if there is one. Your spirit was a free one. You refused to be contained. You exuded a feral quality unmatched elsewhere in the inner city. I applaud your unyielding vigor for freedom. I sincerely hope there are no homes where you're going; just a big green bok choy field in the sky. I remain deeply saddened by your loss. Thanks for the times we shared, friend.

Wise men should never argue with fools. When they do, people who look on can't tell the wise man from the fool. They both look like fools.
paraphrasing of a Far East proverb

Today I feel:

absorbed and consumed by anger

Frustrated mostly. The month of April has bathed me in idiocy. My kingdom for some humans with something besides meat for brains! These characters couldn't seem anymore dumb or selfish. Okay, I'll stop now. Someone say something.

Self portrait

Self portrait on the J train c. 6am, this passed weekend

I chose to go with the eyes closed as opposed to eyes open. A couple weeks ago, a Korean student wanted to take a picture with me, so he had a classmate snap the photo. I'm sooooo not photogenic. He looks at the camera and says "eyes closed." Meaning, my eyes were closed. Only, because of his thick Korean accent, it came across as "eyes crossed." I get the giggles just thinking about that moment.

"I don't know what to do."
anonymous/everyone

Can't get "take a look at my girlfriend, she's the only one I got" out of my head. It's those damned Gym Class Heroes. What a dumb name for a band/group.

Today I'm feeling:

like the world is my cancer and the cancer is my chemo

I'm going to have to take credit for that one. Sean Luxembourg (pseudonym), March 2007. I'd rather you show me all your teeth, but since you're not with me (and I mean with me, with me) why not just comment?

Hustlin'

Sean and Crystal, Buenos Aires, April, 2006

The above image is actually one of my favorites. To me it's quite artistic. It is anonymity, though identities are not hidden. It's intimate, in an intimate sort of way. Yet, it's completely not intimate. The distortions of the subjects' proportions are obvious and almost exaggerated. The pavement almost looks flawless, though not.What is he holding in his left hand? What is she wearing? What were they thinking? Feeling? Where were they going? Yes, I qualify this piece as modern art. Not for sale!

"Planning before work protects from regrets; patience is the key to comfort."
Ceramic earthenware artwork on display at the Brooklyn Museum

Today I'm feeling:

Exhausted

Work is on the horizon and I'm unprepared. I'm more casual than business casual. I suppose I won't be protected from regrets, but I'll live in comfort! Please, comment.