Sometimes life is a vine that creeps up the side and gets you all tangled up before you even have a chance to tend to it. And in the past weeks, my vine had overtaken me to the point that I could barely even talk about what I had going on, let alone try to present it in a succinct, comprehensible and interesting way. BUT... Now I've got some distance and I can give you the nutshell update... You know, since I know you're just frothing to hear about it.
First off, THIS SHIT has been going on in front of my house for the past two weeks. 
Which is awesome. And while I'm sure our new stoop/porch combo will be lovely when(ever) it's finished, IN THE MEANTIME I've had to put up with jackhammers and catcalling from the douchebags my landlady hired to do the work. (Clarification: They weren't catcalling at me, thank God. But my neighbors and ANY female who was unfortunate enough to be walking down the street while they were around.)
Which is awesome. And while I'm sure our new stoop/porch combo will be lovely when(ever) it's finished, IN THE MEANTIME I've had to put up with jackhammers and catcalling from the douchebags my landlady hired to do the work. (Clarification: They weren't catcalling at me, thank God. But my neighbors and ANY female who was unfortunate enough to be walking down the street while they were around.)I don't know what it is about certain groups in the City that compel them to unequivocally reinforce their own stereotypes, but there must be some sort of unwritten code among construction workers that says they have to - on pain of death - hassle women when they walk down the street. Tooth-sucking, whistling and "Hey Baby"-ing must be part of the training course one has to take to become a laborer in the State of New York. And nothing.... NOTHING... gets to me more than that shit. Finally, the other day I 'd totally had enough. I burst out the front door and pulled the crew leader aside and told him in no uncertain terms to have some fucking respect and knock that shit OFF. And do you know what this low-life, pencil-dick fucking cocksucker says to me..????
He says (insert Puerto Rican accent here), "Wha? Yoo wan' me to be gay?" ...
I know. I couldn't believe it either. This is the part where, if I was someone who kept a gun in the house, I'd be writing this from jail right now. All I gotta say is... this better be one spectacular fucking stoop/porch.
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Okay... on to some other happy shit that happened a few weeks back. The job search was continuing, but (for reasons that weren't immediately clear) my unemployment benefits suddenly hit a snag. Turns out they were being withheld because my former employer raised some sort of issue. So, not only did I not have a job, but now I no longer had any sort of financial cushion while I was looking either. Long story short, the issues they raised are completely bogus bullshit and I've been assured by my "caseworker" that this happens often and that he's fairly certain my case is solid and I'll be cleared. Which means they can finally release the fucking $1500 in benefits ASAP. Yeah, fuckers. You better.
So, in the meantime, without the financial leeway to try and find a decent fucking dayjob, I've been forced to take another long-term temp position at THIS FUCKIN' PLACE. And while it's $28/hr and totally meets my schedule flexibility needs, it's still fucking AmEx, which I said I'd never go back to and makes me want to light myself on fire.
BUT... God willing, I won't have to be there long. You may remember an interview I mentioned a few posts ago with Extreme Music. Called last week and spoke with the gal I interviewed with. She said they'd be interviewing through Friday and were hoping to have someone ready to go by October. (They're moving offices at the end of September.) Said she'd keep me posted. So, fingers still majorly crossed on that one.
----NOW comes the fun stuff... Last Tuesday was K.P. O'Fagan II's bachelor dinner at Peter Luger's in Brooklyn followed by after-festivities at Astoria's world-famous Bohemian Beer Garden. Ain't we cute? 
The wedding was Saturday. A beautiful affair. K.P. looked dashing in a vintage, brown, 3-button pinstripe suit from Rue St. Denis and Schreck was stunning as always. Willis and I were recruited to play guitar and sing. Hando joined us on the Delaney & Bonnie classic "Neverending Song of Love" , which we performed during the passing of the rings. And for the recessional, the entire wedding posse contributed a verse to an original Irish drinking song that Willis put together. He and I played, we all sang and a joyful hell was raised in DUMBO that night. Much drink, much mirth and much ass-shaking followed. Salute, Kip and Heidi.
Here's a couple artfully-lit photos of the bride and groom followed by a sweaty and not-so-artfully-lit pic of The Missus and I. And since Bella did such a fantastic job, I'll throw in a pic to give her some props as well. 
All in all, it's been a nutty couple of weeks. LOTS of ups and downs. And the uncertainty continues. Lots of balls in the air and no real solid idea of where they'll land. Trying to do a bit of trusting and let the man upstairs do his work. Just hoping I have the patience and the ear to listen for His will above the din of my own anxiety. And those FUCKING catcalls...
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