Donny Borisoff passed away last night. My heart breaks for the boys, his mother and Lisa.
His funeral is this Sunday. Spoke with Abbey earlier, texted with Lisa, fucking insane. Life is fucking insane.

A friend just texted me this:
“Read below. I try to practice and remind myself of this regularly and thought you’d appreciate it too. At least in due time.
—
Acceptance is the answer to all my problems today. When I am disturbed, it is because I find some person, place, thing or situation — some fact of my life — unacceptable to me, and I can find no serenity until I accept that person, place, thing or situation as being exactly the way it is supposed to be at this moment.
Nothing, absolutely nothing, happens in this world by mistake. Until I can accept this – unless I choose to live and accept life completely on life’s terms, I cannot be happy. I need to concentrate not so much on what needs to be changed in the world, as on what needs to be changed in me and in my attitudes.”

I’m not into the self-healing quotes. But who knows? It apparently helps some of us. Maybe the above would help someone.

I wanted to laugh today. I think I had one good laugh today. Sarah and I played a prank on Jaret.
Earlier, he sent an email with resumes of people we’re recruiting for positions.
I sent him an email back along with Jenn and Sarah:

“What the fuck do I need resumes for? I haven’t seen none of your dumbasses.
Cheers,”

I follow up immediately with another email:

“Jaret,
I need to see everyone on our team’s resume on my desk, first thing Monday morning. Starting with yours.
Clear my fucking calendar for the day, I’m reviewing every fucking resume.
Cheers,”

Dumbass replies:
“Ok, sounds good.
Sarah & Jenn – could you help move this forward?
Going to add here on dropbox: ********”

Jaret is taking it serious. LMFAO

I replied:
“It was a fucking joke, dumbass. You’re too uptight brother, relaaaaaaaaaax.
Cheers,”
(Somewhere there’s an HR reading this and shaking their head. Please speak to our HR department Ms. I don’t give a shit, Jennifer.)

His reply:
“Ha…. Funny
J/k.
But we should have everybody’s stuff anyway.. I have a lot of them. Can’t hurt to drop in a folder.”

And the winner reply by knockout, which received no answer back:
“I don’t have one.
Cheers,”
LMFAO. Oh my God, we were fucking dying.

Yesterday, Ottinger and I went out to drinks with Andrea and some friends. Had a really nice time hanging out. Went to a Quizzo’s joint in Landsdale. The MC was really peculiar, kooky. You would have loved him. You probably would have danced with him and made him laugh somehow. That who you were. The clown in the group. I loved that about you. Most get tired of each other’s jokes, it makes sense, after a while, the joke gets stale. Not sure how soon, but it does happen eventually.
But your jokes were spontaneous, never planned, always fresh. You did; however, excel at mimicking people’s walks, dances, personas, them. My God did you make me laugh.

I think I realize what I am missing in you. I think we both tolerated each other because we truly loved each other. Your love for me was more than I probably realize or could comprehend. Mine was a different type of love. Yours was more passion. Mine was more philosophical. I showed you love in a different way than what is expected. You showed me love with how protective you were. I loved that about you. I miss that. That is exactly what I’m missing in you.
I am missing you because of the way you loved me. The way you needed me. The way you depended on me. The way you put your faith in me. I miss the way you touched me. The way you sought after me. The way you desired me. I am no longer relevant.
I am no longer being, loved.

I received your death certificates the other day. I wasn’t sure how to react. Your name, the date, the cause.

I wish I can somehow write down “long pauses” in between sentences or after a paragraph. Commas and periods just don’t cut it.

Today was nasty, still is. Our trees are going to fall on the house sooner or later. Damn fucking house, it’s like we’re living in the Amazon. But I love it. One of these day, a tree is going to take me out. One almost did when it fell on the deck and brushed the outer edges of the house.
We took down 16 trees on top of the 3 that fell. We still have 90 fucking trees in the back. All aiming at our house. I feel them looking down on us. Fucking bastards.
Every time we took a tree down, I’d have it split and prepped to become firewood. I love our fireplace. You hated the wood piling up behind Bella’s playhouse in the backyard. Always thought it looked “Trashy.”
It’s fucking firewood, how is it trashy?
The Madden’s had two trees come down. One in the backyard and one in the driveway. Snow is heavy, roads are meh, not bad, just a little meh. I didn’t have much trouble driving all day today.

[Cigarette break…]

I took you on our first date to a middle eastern restaurant. I wanted you to know early on my identity. No games, no lies, just the truth. Why wait to find out? I know it sometimes comes off too strong or forward, but that’s just who I am. I kind of get to the bottomline sooner rather than later. It could be presumptuous on my behalf, but I believe I am skilled at reading people. Expect for today, today was a royal disaster. LMFAO. What a douche I was. I misread all the signs. What I had thought was a solid lead, positive energy, positive vibe, positive everything, turned out to, nothing. Oh well. Move on to the next.

Okay, so I fucked up this time around, who hasn’t. (I don’t believe I need a question mark at the end of this statement, or do I? I was making a statement, it wasn’t a question. Feedback is welcomed.)

You liked Middle Eastern food when you first tried it with me. You weren’t the most adventurous when it came to food. I don’t think you really ever loved food. You only loved old fashioned food. You always said that you were more of a steak and a potato kind of person. Meatloaf. Mashed potatoes. Openface turkey. String beans. Your safe food. Even pasta you didn’t care much for. You didn’t even like tomatoes. What Italian can’t eat raw tomatoes? “Only if they’re cooked” you told everyone that was puzzled by the revelation.
I started introducing you to new cuisines, nothing too drastic, I too had a safe zone and we weren’t far apart. So it was easy for me to play in your safe food zone. It didn’t bother me. I loved what you loved. Okay, maybe not everything, but a lot of your quirky loves. I wanted to explore new things, but it was hard with you until later in your life. You started to experiment more. You still drew the line, but at least you tried.

Remember how we used to hang on South Street back in the early 90’s. Club Zero on 4th & South. Silk City. The Bank. Revival, now National Mechanics, Troc sometimes, Astec Club, a lot. Never went to the Beach Club, too “college” of a scene for us. Loved going to Vagabond on Monday nights. Wherever we went, we always ended up at the Black Banana.

You had me meet your father when he lived in Society Hill, I swear it was a week after you and I met. Our timeline was so accelerated, it was nuts. We both knew, we were made for one another.
I looked like a bum when I met your father. I was so embarrassed by the way I looked. Cutoff jeans, a goatee. I would have beaten the shit out of me had I been her father.
It was a quick “hello” at the front door. We didn’t even walk in. She told me how odd he was. Never disclosing details. Just odd, different. I didn’t read too much into it at the time, until later in our life.
Then you had me meet your mother. It was the complete opposite of an experience. A more festive one. Fell in love with “Ma” immediately. She was fun, constant laughter, vibrant. I felt at home, safe.
I was your prize. You treated me as if I was your prize. You valued me more that I can say with simple words to describe your pride.
You were an amazing woman my love. Truly fucking amazing. Your love for me was amazing. I envied you for the amount of love you had for me. I honestly could not match it back. It would have been suffocating to you.

I am getting sleepy baby. I had a really long day. A lot of ups and a lot of downs.

Good night my sweet.

I love you,

Me