Non Track Rat

This is me. I need a haircut. Be happy I'm shaved and showered. I root for the Boston Red Sox. I write for food. I have two sisters, two nieces and am about to be an uncle once again. I am infatuated with the potential of gadgets -- like my cell phone, like my Canon Power Shot SD10, like my iPod -- yet only use them for their bare purpose. I have a cat. His name is Lefty and he is a big ass mutha. I have 500 CDs. I have 30 notepads full of words that I did not box cut. My journal is a hair over six months old. I stop for coffee and orange juice and a NY Daily News every morning at the Tinton Falls 7-11. I find it difficult to park there. My apartment is a perpetual mess. I want to buy a house to gain space for my stuff. But I like where I am, geographically. I walk to the diner down the street for dinner many nights. I walk to the CD store. I walk to the bar and to the book store. I hear sirens at night. I fall asleep to the sounds of cartoons. It is almost incomprehensible that I am still alive after all the shit I've gotten away with/pulled/endured. I will be 38 in 12 days. I smirk too much. I drive too fast. I was born to love writable surfaces. And I collect memories the way others collect fine wine. Stash to someday consume. I am reading this and laughing my ass off. I still need a haircut.