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Posted by Todd Wall at 3:19 PM | Permalink | Comments (1) |

21st CENTURY DATING

It amazes me just how many people - attractive, intelligent, successful people - have trouble finding their mate here in New York City and in other metropolises (or is it Metropoli?) such as LA, Chicago, Detroit, Atlanta, Boston, Baghdad and Kabul. Somehow the intellectually, cosmetically, and financially challenged folk seem to have no trouble at all finding love. Maybe they're just not as picky. Or maybe they can't afford to be picky. Whatever the case I felt a need to comment on this dyer situation. Ok, we acknowledged there is a problem. So maybe we can find the root of the problem, and then perhaps together we or maybe just I can come up with a possible solution.

It is very tough to be single in such hugely advanced cities like New York and Kabul.

You know what? Allow me to rephrase. It's actually quite easy being single. Back when I was single I certainly had a very easy time being single. The problem was finding a girl that would stick for a lengthy period of time – like months. Believe it or not I was one of those guys that was rarely ever single by choice. I was a nice guy always on the prowl for a nice girl to have a relationship with. But I was simply forced to be single for various chunks of time by all you crazy superpicky psychotic New York women…

Now hold on! Hold on! Before you get your panties all caught up in your crotch – and start slingin' your dirty tampons at me, I will also bring to light the shit stinking fuckchops we men are today. But understand, that it is my opinion that crappy men are more global where as a majority of the crappy women might be a little more contained here in the U.S. I don't know, I am just basing this on personal experience and stories from men and women both here and a[broad] (pun intended)When I said "crappy" in reference to some men and women– I just simply mean, unreliable, inconsiderate, ungrateful, and selfish. Cities like NYC and LA are simply Petri dishes infested with viruses like narcissism, materialism, impatience - a little bug that feeds this constant need in us to upgrade!

For Example:
Technology is increasing exponentially. As soon as you settle down with one gadget a year later what happens? Something better comes along. A better model, (or "supermodel"), a better monthly plan, one that's faster, cheaper, sturdier, crashes less, lasts longer, more free minutes, more durable, more memory, longer battery life, better colors, sleeker looking – and in case you think I am talking about the latest technological gizmos, I'm not. I am talking about people. Relationships. Everyone seems more reluctant to commit out of fear that something better might be coming around the corner - maybe even at a lower cost, hassle free with more run time!

Am I right?

Fuck you, you know I'm right.

And by the way, I am still talking about people.

That's why when you upgrade on anything (or anyone) you have to sign a 2 year contract saying that you'll commit to a particular service provider. Companies know how commitment phobic and impatient our society has become. So they make you sign something to ensure you won't leave them.

The same applies to relationships. It's called "marriage."

When the contract/commitment is broken you are expected to pay penalties – alimony, child support, and maybe half of everything you own. We all know the name of this broken contract – divorce.

Which is why I am sticking with Verizon. The cost of separating is just too great.

Unfortunately there are too many poor souls who will never be happy no matter who they're with. They simply look for the tiniest flaws in a person. It's a form of self-protection and it saves time and energy in committing to someone that may (or may not) work out. This is their shield from getting hurt. It also acts as a shield from finding happiness and balance in a loving relationship.

Example 1:

JANE:"Oooh, Todd, I had such a good time on the date. He's funny, he's charming, he lives an active life and has a great career. He's sweet, honest, and very fashionable! I mean I kinda like him… but…."

TODD:"Oh no. 'But'"…?

JANE:"Well, he doesn't seem to know how to eat pasta…"

TODD:"Huh?"

JANE:"He sort of slurps it up and then bites it and lets the extras fall back onto the plate"

TODD:"So…who cares? You gonna see him again, right?"

JANE: "Naaah, I don't think so. My mom always said that if I marry someone I should make sure they have impeccable table manners – because afterall I will have to sit across from this person the rest of my life."

TODD: "I pity you."

JANE: "Besides I hooked up with him last night and he has really hairy balls."

You see!? The poor schnook didn't stand a chance with this girl. She immediately dismissed a funny, charming, intelligent, successful bachelor because he didn't know how to twirl spaghetti. An easily correctable habit. And excessive ball hair can simply be trimmed…carefully.

Example 2:

JOHN: "Todd – this chick was awesome! Hot. For the most part. Sophisticated! Great smile, great teeth. I even made out with her at the end of the date."

TODD:"That's awesome! When you gonna see her again?"

JOHN: "See that's just the thing. I don't think I will."

TODD: "Why?"

JOHN: "Well, I she had kind of a noticeable black wart on her tit."

TODD: "Asshole, it's called a beauty mark…a birthmark."

JOHN: "Yeah. Well there is nothing beautiful about this mark and I can't date a chick that's been marked since birth!!"

TODD: "You're a schmuck!"

JOHN: "O.k. fine. She has hairy nipples."

TODD: "OOoof. That's rough."

JOHN: "And a hairy bush."

TODD: "How hairy."

JOHN: "It would take something massive to trim it – like a helicopter blade...or an airplane propeller."

And so Jane & John like many others continue their futile search for love.

Yes I know not everyone is like John & Jane. But we've all pulled a "John & Jane" in the past to convince ourselves NOT to get involved with a particular person for whatever reason.

Dating is even tougher now in 2008 than it ever was in the history of…history.

I attribute this to a number of things. For one thing. In a big city there are so many options it becomes quite confusing, overwhelming even, and we simply shut down. Crash. Each person seems to be more beautiful (and more successful) than the next. We are always looking to upgrade when living in cities such as New York or Baghdad. Wherever you turn your head there is a beautiful person. It's like buying the latest computer, cell phone, smartphone, PDA, flat screen plasma TV, blackberry, sidekick, iPod. What happens? 3 months haven't gone by before a newer version emerges into mainstream. Ahhhhh!!!

We now live in a world where we have become so accustomed to instant gratification – where nothing can get to us fast enough – from IMing, texting, instant wireless telepathic satellite web access so we can email our companions vacationing in Estonia just by thinking about it. Movies are now coming to DVD before they're even filmed. We no longer possess any patience to let things grow, blossom, flourish, and flow. Nobody wants to wait. Fuck, we get upset if we don't get a response back from our text message or email BEFORE we even hit "send!'

And because of our lack of patience we expect a raise without doing the work. The meal without having to prepare it. The body tone without having to workout. And the perfect relationship without putting in the effort, the time, and compromise. And so we expect a human relationship built on trust, love, and compromise to evolve as fast as we can compose and fire off a text message to an email which will be relayed instantaneously to the recipient's blackberry while vacationing in Yemen.

So now - men and women go out - and on the first date they are looking for explosive fireworks. A cinematic orchestra of romantic music playing in the iTunes section of their brains signifying that this person that now sits before them is their long awaited soul mate. Amen! Hallelujah!

But if you go out with someone, have a pretty good time and you find the person relatively attractive even though they are not quite as hot as Brad & Angelina give the person a second chance. Brad got Angelina because he's Brad and Angelina got Brad because she's Angelina. Be hopeful but be realistic. Nobody, not even the aforementioned celebrities, is perfect. We ALL have flaws. And no relationship is problem free and perfect. If you don't experience exploding fireworks of romantic and sexual chemistry right off the bat – snap out of it. Give this shit time! A 2nd date perhaps could be used to go on an 8 day Artic cruise.

But in all seriousness, do you really think you can size up a person on one date?! Yet we all try. Granted, if there is absolutely NOTHING there and you are absolutely repulsed to the point where you'd rather jab a rusty nail in your eye than spend another waking moment with the person - well then fine. Call it a night… or… well, be sure to sterilize that nail.

Unfortunately the odds of finding a mate in 2008 are stacked against us. With everyone's severe lack of patience and "stick-to-it-iveness" we have to now be more conscious of how we can increase our own stock value by creating a newer, sleeker, and better version of ourselves to stay one step ahead of our competition, and increase the odds of our consumer's commitment to us in an ever increasing volatile market such as 21st century dating.

Posted by Todd Wall at 10:04 AM | Permalink | Comments (2) |

While I was riding the subway this morning on the way to work I noticed that everyone, and I mean EVERYONE in my subway car had the same look of misery. Miserable thoughts probably about the heat, or the early morning commute, or the fact that it's only Tuesday, the daily grind, my boyfriend dumped me last night, my grandpa died and left me no inheritance, whatever. Then to make matters worse, a man stepped into the car with a gym bag and proceeded with his routine announcement. “Attention ladies and gentleman! May I please have your attention!?”

Just when I thought no one could look any more defeated, I noticed steam started to mist out from everyone’s ears, little nubby horns started to protrude from everyone’s head, and I think I saw one girl’s head spin all the way around.

I must confess, I cranked my iPod up full blast to try and drown out this annoyance. But the fucker was loud and I couldn’t concentrate on the classic song I was listening to (Mm Bop by Hanson). We were underground but I bet all of Time Square was able to hear him. This was a time when I wished my iPod volume went up to 11. So now I was forced to listen as was everyone else in Manhattan.

“Is there anybody in this car hungry!? I have free sandwiches in my bag…”

Just to let you know, I was very hungry because I hadn’t eaten breakfast and I am on a pretty strict budget so I really wanted to raise my hand. But I remembered back when I was 5 ½ years old my mom warned me never to take sandwiches from strangers because you never know how old the cold cuts are and you may get worms, and they’ll multiply in your belly and eat you from the inside out.

I know what you’re thinking and don’t worry, we put my mom on some medication years later. (I love you mom, and I am glad you are doing better and I DIDN’T take the sandwiches)

I digress.

Announcement continued: “If you need a place to stay because you are homeless, I have a listing of several housing facilities! If your hygiene is questionable and you need a shower, I have a list of 3 facilities with free amenities so you can clean yourself! I know many of you have been on a subway car where there was a homeless person whose hygiene was highly questionable and forced you to move to a different subway car!”

Again, I must confess that I was tempted to move to a different subway car just to avoid this nuisance. But I was lazy and begrudgingly listened to his “sales” pitch.

Announcement continuing: “To keep this free program for homeless running we need your donations. Even if it’s JUST a penny! Pennies add up! Anything helps!”
And you know what? I had .30 cents in my pocket (and two 20 dollar bills in my wallet). I couldn’t give him a 20 because, as I said before I really am on a tight budget and I didn’t want to be weird and ask for change. And not to sound all high and mighty but I did notice I was the first one to reach into my pocket. He saw me and came over and said in a priestly manner, “God Bless You!” – I didn’t sneeze but thank you.

And right when I dropped my measly .30 cents in his can I noticed a physiological chemical change in my body. I felt a bit tingly. It was an overall feeling of goodness. Even if it was for a brief moment, it made me feel quite happy. Then I looked around and I swear this was the first time I witnessed this: Everybody, and I mean everybody reached into their pockets, purses, wallets, bras and g-strings for change and bills and started to drop money in the man’s collection can. Here’s the cool thing. After each person dropped their money in, I observed a positive physiological change with them too. A smile overcame each of their faces. Everyone’s eyes started to gleam. Life started to blossom. There was now an exciting spark that filled the subway car. It was a feeling of pure goodness. I was now officially in a good mood and I think everyone else was too. I have never seen such an obvious change in vibe from a collective group of people in such a short span of time.

Maybe, now just maybe this could be the simple key to making yourself smile and feel good. Do something nice, do something selfless and notice the change in your body chemistry. It is something we all innately know but often forget to do because we are so wrapped up in our own technological bubble of cell phones, iPods, Blackberry’s, hand held video games, palm pilots, battery operated nose hair trimmers and any other technological crap that keeps us from noticing the physical world around us.

Because of what I witnessed first hand not only within myself but the people around me this morning on a New York City subway, I now truly believe that all normal thinking human beings are innately good and all it takes is for something such as a good deed or a simple compliment to remind us of that.

Try it! If it doesn’t bring an immediate smile to your face and a feeling of goodness to your heart then I may suggest some Lexipro, Paxil, Lithium, Prozac, Effexor, Vicodin, Percocet, Morphine, or Demerol. One or all should do the trick.

Posted by Todd Wall at 2:52 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) |

I met this beautiful Russian girl...from Russia. And no, she is not a mail ordered bride. I met her on MySpace. I do not recall how I came across her profile. I just remember seeing her picture and thinking how I wanted to meet this girl. She's 26 (as of May 2nd), tall, tan, blonde and slim. I scanned her profile and saw that she speaks several languages...fluently. English (just like me), Spanish and of course, Russian. She is a certified court interpreter and she claimed to be an art aficionado, and has a love for Salsa dancing. So after scanning her page it dawned on me that there was something more to her than just her looks. I wanted to find out more about this girl from Chelyabinsk…don’t try to pronounce it, because if you don’t know what you’re doing your mouth and tongue will start to bleed. Speaking of which, she changed her last name when she came here. I am suspecting because her original last name contained 23 of the 26 letters of the English alphabet and the 3 that weren’t in her last name were vowels. It is my assumption that when Americans tried to pronounce her last name they would need total mouth/jaw reconstructive surgery. Anyway not to go off on a tangent here, but she saved a lot of American mouths (including mine) by changing her last name.

So I started communication with a simple email. We kept our emails light for about a month. No hints of dates or anything of the sort at first. With the help of NASA, the CIA, FBI Surveillance Teams, ATF, the IRS, MADD (Mothers Against Drunk Drivers) DAMM (Drunks Against Mad Mothers) and UNICEF I got a date with her. I suspect it was because I never let on at first that that was my intention. I kept each email very simple. I wasn’t sure if I was ever going to ask her out. For one, she lived in Jersey and two, I just wasn’t in the mood to get to know someone new. But our emails started to insinuate that we may get together someday and finally she asked me to ask her out. In a way that was very hot. I did. She doesn’t travel to the city much so I knew I wanted to make her trip worthwhile. I got discount tickets to Avenue Q through my company so that was our first “date.”

DATE 1
At first glance: It was the Saturday before Easter. I waited for her outside Penn Station. As soon as she stepped out and onto the street our eyes locked and gave each other a hug and kiss. No, no tongue…just a peck. Now this is what first blew me away. She showed up with a bag of chocolates and an Easter Bunny. She knew I was Jewish but still didn’t want to show up without anything. This was the sweetest gesture. Ever. Not because I have an Easter Bunny fetish, but because in ALL my years of dating this was the first time, EVER that a girl showed up with a li’l gift to thank me in advanced for taking her out. She earned about 25 points for that maneuver.

So on we press to Bryant Park for a few drinks before the show. She had a great sense of humor. And with a little bit of alcohol we both loosened up a bit more. We were a few blocks and a few avenues away from the show. A good 15 minute Manhattan walk and because it was chilly the walk could have seemed a bit longer so I offered a cab ride to the theater. She opted for the walk. Another 15 points earned.

The show: While the play was going on I kept glancing at her to see how she was enjoying the show. I have to say, she had the cutest smile and laugh. She looked like a kid in a toy store. So excited. Her eyes wide open and a smile so wide her teeth added extra light for the actors. A good 5 points. (I’d give more but the show was really good and you’d have to be completely comatose not to enjoy such a show).

I have a small confession to make…when we got up from our seats I took a gander at her ass. That’s right. A gander. A very quick glance at her ass.

Ok. Ok. I gawked. I stared. I fixated. And now MY face had the big smile like a kid in a toy store. Or more like a grown man in the porn section of a video store.

Now before you start calling me shallow. She later admitted to me that she checked out my ass when I went up to the bar to get our drinks at Bryant Park grill. You see? She checked out MY ass even before I checked out hers. How rude of her! I feel so objectified! She said she was pleased but I highly doubt her smile was as big as mine.

So there you have it, each of us, on our way to dinner after the show secretly thrilled about each other’s ass. How romantic.

Dinner: We ate at a cute little Italian place on West 44th street. Conversation flowed. Still wasn’t quite sure what vibe was being thrown at me. Was it the, friend vibe? Or was it the “I hope he kisses me vibe?” Just so you know. The first kiss on any date can be a bit nerve racking for any guy. After all he is the one that generally has to make the move. It’s gotta be perfect timing, the perfect moment or you might just get the last second head turn and connect with her cheek. And then maybe even a pat on the back. If that happens, consider yourself fucked! And not in the good way.

I decided to still keep it cool and not make a move. I had to slap the mental hand cuffs on myself. Very hard to do being as attractive as she was.

The Final Moments - Penn Station: Being a true gentleman. I waited with her at Penn Station until her train came. One could say I was also buying time to figure out if this was a kissable opportunity or not. It should have been obvious to me that when we were walking she asked to lock her arm in mine. Not to mention that when we were waiting she leaned into me to rest her head on my chest. Hmm. Ok, feel free to slap me upside the head. Believe me – I heard that sergeant’s voice in my head again (the one from “The Actress That Got Away” blog). The voice was screaming, “Kiss her you pussy!” But instead we talked some more while I stroked her hair. The moment wasn’t right. It just wasn’t right. Then, they announce her train. FUCK! She stands up to gather her things. I stand up and now the sergeant’s voice was screaming again, “Wake up!! WAKE UP YOU FUCKCHOP!"

Continuing: "You got 30 seconds to produce a kiss or you will be DIShonorably discharged – you got that!?!"

Then out of nowhere, she lifts up her shirt a little to show me her cute little navel ring.

Sergeant: “IF YOU DON’T KISS HER RIGHT N—"

And just then, I woke up out of my daze. I hooked my index finger into the loop of her jeans and pulled her in toward me and we kissed. A sweet, sweet kiss. I cupped her face while our lips met and it was nice. Very nice. I walked her to her train. A final kiss. She thanked me again for a lovely evening.

Sergeant: “You done good kid. You done good.”

The Day After: The next afternoon, I got a phone call from her to thank me again. Another 20 points. How could a girl this hot be this cool? It defied logic.

DATE 2
The following weekend we went to the Bodies exhibit at the South Street Seaport. Then a boat ride around lower Manhattan. Yes, I know, a bit touristy…but who cares. The day was beautiful and we were having a great time. After the boat ride we get a bite to eat. I slip away to the restroom for a minute to do my thing and then arrived right before our meal.

Why is this important information you may ask.

Well. I’ll tell ya. At the end of our meal, I ask the waiter for the check. He brings the check WITH her credit card already in the brown booklet thingy (what the hell is that thing called?). You see. When I was in the restroom she slipped the waiter her card so she could take ME out. What can I say…but…30 points. The most earned so far.

We also hung out in Central Park and she suggested I get a cigar to smoke there.

Don’t worry. There is a catch. A small one. She did admit that she can be a bit stubborn and brutally honest. And to a degree - pushy. If one let’s her. Something that didn’t come out until Date 3.

DATE 3
She took a cab from Penn Station to my apartment. I waited on the stoop for her. The cab pulls up. She steps out, and I literally had the breath sucked out of my lungs. She looked like a supermodel. Seriously. Long beautiful blonde hair, a cool funky tight dress. Nice elegant high healed shoes. Actually that was the perfect way to describe her in that moment. Elegant. The plan was to go to The Met. Yes, I know. More touristy stuff. But again. So fucking what. It was a cool activity.

I must admit I felt the slightest bit insecure with her in the high heals because she was taller than me. Stupid. But it’s the truth. She immediately said she didn’t like the shirt I was wearing. MINUS 20 points!

I gave her a look and she laughed and said that there has to be something better in my closet as she generally likes my style of dress. I pulled out a few things that she didn’t like. I threatened that I was going to wear my tank top and Speedos with my 8 inch 1970’s platform clogs if she didn’t stop making fun of my outfit choices. Finally, we agreed upon a cool outfit. It does sound pushy doesn’t it. But I guess her point was that she got herself primped up nice for me and that I should wear something nice too. Alright. I’ll give her that. Just as a guy wants his woman to look hot when they are out, a girl wants her guy to look hot as well. Or at least presentable. And by the way I made her change her shoes so I would be taller than her.

The Met: We get to The Met. First thing she does. This gorgeous, elegant, fashionably dressed, sexy woman - buys a hot dog! 53 points!!!

We walked through the museum and I was so impressed with her knowledge of art. Unbelievable actually. Before we left the museum, she went to the ladies room and I waited near the gift shop and my eyes locked onto a book about surrealism and art and it featured a bunch of her favorite artists including Escher and Dali. I bought it for her and surprised her when she got out of the bathroom. 47 points for me. She loved it and was so appreciative.

We went for coffee and then to one of my favorite little places. A cute Peruvian restaurant on the Upper East Side. Great Sangrias. We ate hearty. Got a bit looped, and came back to my place. She stayed the night.

5000 points! : )

For both of us! : )

I am not sure what else to say. I am living in the moment. And I am enjoying my time getting to know this girl who seems to be very bright and very beautiful, inside and out. I am not some kook who thinks she is perfect. Nor am I. If we continue to date I am sure we will get to know each others imperfections soon enough. But for now…this girl is up 5128 points!

What a score!

Posted by Todd Wall at 9:41 AM | Permalink | Comments (0) |

It has been a while since I wrote my last blog, “Ode To My Ex” – which by the way we passed each other a few days ago on the street. She was walking hand in hand with some guy and I was walking arm in arm with a girl. We didn’t stop and chat. Not even sure we saw each other in time to realize. And so life continues…

Anyway - I just simply couldn't find inspiration to write. Or maybe I was just lazy.

Back in early October I hit a wall. To say the least. I slipped into a very brief yet very deep and very dark and seemingly unrelenting depression.

Probably for a number of reasons and won’t go into detail about it. I will say this though. I have been living in my apartment for nearly 10 years and have not changed it around much. It basically looked like a kid fresh out of college still lived there and not a young man in his 30's. But not because it wasn’t kept clean. I just didn’t pay much attention to décor. I mean – it’s not that inviting to walk in and see a poster of Robert DeNiro (my idol) pointing a gun in your face. After realizing that living here while witnessing friends buying homes, making over the 6 figure mark, and some even getting cast in TV shows and movies it dawned on me how stagnant my life was. I needed change. Something. Anything.

It's funny. Most would say change needs to come from within first. I disagree. You need to start making physical changes on the outside. To your environment (home) or your look (gym, exercise, clothes, hair etc.) and from there change will start to happen. It starts from the outside which will yield change from within. Do you know what I am talking about? 'Cause I sure as hell don't.

And by the way, I want to take this space, the very words you are reading right now and thank Ariana Meyerson and Neva Meritt for their open ears, warm hearts, and very sound and loving womanly advice that I sincerely took to heart and sprang into action. I love you both. During those few dark days I felt paralzyed. Physically immobile. As I lied in bed being swallowed up by the darkness, I spoke to Ariana first. She has either been my wife in a past life or will be my wife in an another life. Or is actually my wife in a parallel life. She gave me tough love over the phone.

ARIANA: "You have so much going for you. You are so talented in so many different ways. The world is at your fingertips. I understand what you're going through but you have to stop feeling sorry for yourself. Get out of bed. Write. Redo your apartment. Just focus on you and get off your ass and make shit happen. I love you."

Unfortunately right before we spoke I washed down an ambien and a vicodin with a double shot of whisky so taking action would have to wait until the next day.

The next night I went out with Neva. Who had a different softer zen-like approach.

Neva speaks in a very soft free your mind, body, and spirit, soothing hippie like tone (which can be very sexy)

NEVA: “This depression needs to happen. It’s part of your journey. Open yourself up to whatever reason this may be…follow your heart and – [tone changes] get off your ass and make a change! Change your apartment. Go to the gym. Treat yourself to something nice. And be glad this is happening because it means something big is around the corner!”

Then I grabbed her and planted a great big kiss. If only I was Mormon, I would kidnap Neva and Ariana (with their permission), stuff them in a rented buick (with their permission) and drive out to Utah and have ourselves a wedding manage (with or without their permission).

So after my lovely Friday night with Neva I went home a bit happier. Excited to start making shit happen.

The first thing I did was buy a very nice, semi-new, thin-bodied acoustic/electric guitar. It was a great deal I found on Craigslist. The look and sound is beautiful and I can't stop playing. Something I haven't done in quite some time. The second was rejoining the gym. And finally, the biggest change I have made in the past few months was to my apartment. My home. And that’s something that I have not said with pride…until now. "My home."

It was time for the landlord to repaint my apartment (required by law in New York every 3 years) but this time I decided to go with color rather than the standard Mental Hospital White. After lengthy consideration, I finally chose Toasty Gray (a light cocoa) for my bedroom and for the living room I went with a color called: Cappuccino Latte Half and Half Creamy Native American Hebrew National Flat Gold (with a hint of Muave). It's a very subtle beige. I kept all the trim stark white for contrast. Beautiful.

The day I came home after they finished the paint job I wanted to cry. Everything, and I mean EVERYTHING in that apartment was piled in the middle of the living room. It reminded me of the mock Devil’s Tower Richard Dreyfus built in his living room in Spielberg’s Close Encounters of The Third Kind. I spent the next 9 hours (till 4am) putting the apartment back together.

I had a few of my lady “friends” and more over to help with suggestions. I wasn’t quite sure what to do with my bedroom. Neva was over and she was trying to help me come up with my own ideas rather than simply give me hers. So she asked - "What do you want your bedroom to say? What kind of feel do you want for your bedroom? Festive? Mellow? What kind of reaction are you looking to have?"

And so I thought for a while. Both of us standing at the doorway to my bedroom looking in.

Then it hit me. I said, “This is what I want to happen. When I have a girl over (such as yourself), and when she first walks into my room and takes it all in, I want this type of effect…”

[Picture this] I sprinted to my bed, leapt into the air, did a double flip, morphing into a quarter twist and then opened up into a half gainer and landed on my back smack dab in the middle of my bed with my legs spread up in the air and yelled, “Fuck me, Todd! NOW!” Then I sheepishly looked over at Neva standing in the doorway and said, “You think this is possible?”

Neva laughed hysterically! And said, “Let’s get to work.”

And now it was time to go nuts! And that’s what I did. I went fucking nuts! Buying shit up everywhere I went. I have become my own "Queer Eye" redecorating freak! Buying furniture, plants, home accents and decore, etc. etc. etc. I spent lots of time, days even, at stores like Pier 1 Imports, Bed Bath & Beyond, Target, Pottery Barn, Century 21, Home Depot, Wal-mart, K-Mart, Duane Reade, Food Emporium, Toys R Us, Build-A-Bear, and The American Girl Doll Store. I am changing.

The most evil of the stores though is Bed Bath & Beyond. Those mother fuckers! This store can be so intoxicating. That is the only way to describe it. Intoxicating. Why? Because they have everything there. Nearly everything you want, need or think you want or need. And so many li’l nooks, crannies, trinkets, and snigletons.

In case you are wondering, snigletons – a word I made up – are simply the pointless but have-to-have-items that you would ONLY see at a Bed Bath & Beyond store. They are cool fucking shit that make you say, “Oooh, I want that!! I NEED that! We NEED that for our apartment!!” And these snigletons are EVERYWHERE in the store. In all shapes and sizes throughout the 3 level store. You can’t escape the Bed Bath & Beyond snigletons. They caaaall for you with their telepathic voices. They serenade you with angelic music like the mythological Greek sirons. They can be very manipulative to the weak minded shopper. So be on guard! You need to have the mental strength of a Jedi Knight to walk into that store, get exactly and ONLY exactly what you came for and get out – withstanding all such temptations from these snigletons. As I said they are everywhere. In your face at ALL corners of the store, stacked on pallets in the center isles, the registers, near the security guards at the exit, and even at the “Return Items” counter.

Specifically for situations like the following:

CUSTOMER: Yes, I’d like return this $150.00 Deluxe Clothing Steamer.

EMPLOYEE: Sure. Was there anything wrong with it?

CUSTOMER: Umm…Yeah – It doesn’t take the wrinkles out of my clothes so I’ll just stick to my $10.00 iron. It works pretty good for me.

EMPLOYEE: O.k. Sir. I am glad to return it.

[She has a smug li’l grin on her face. She is delighted with anticipation. She knows what will happen next for she has played this scene out many times]

[Customer looks around at all the little trinkets and snigletons surrounding the “Return Items” area and suddenly]:

CUSTOMER: Oh – LOOK!! Sheet Snugglers!!!

EMPLOYEE: [As if on cue] Yup – those are great! They keep all your sheets straight. Just like a hotel bed.

CUSTOMER: Yes! I need a bunch of these!

EMPLOYEE: Ok – sir, give me a sec and I’ll ring those Sheet Snugglers up for you.

[Customer looking around more as employee starts the return transaction]

CUSTOMER: Wow!!! LOOK AT THAT! Bamboo Lattice Remote Control Organizers! [To the employee] I have 3 remotes that I just can’t seem to keep organized!

EMPLOYEE: Yeah? Then these would be perfect for your living room entertainment center.

CUSTOMER: Ma’am, I’ll take two.

EMPLOYEE: Sure thing. And have you seen these Santa Clause and Elf Draft Stoppers!?

CUSTOMER: Oh wow! Yes! These would be great! [customer turns sad] But I’m Jewish.

EMPLOYEE: Oh no! [thinks for a second and then]: That’s o.k.! Look right behind you and you’ll see we have non-denominational Draft Stoppers!

CUSTOMER: GEE! Well…[in deep thought out loud but to himself] it can get cold in some areas of my apartment. [to the employee as he slaps his hand on the counter in joy] You know what!? Let me have all 12 of them!

EMPLOYEE: No problem. [typing ferociously] $150.00 steamer has been credited back to your account and [more ferocious typing] $295.00 has been deducted back out of your account. Have a good day sir!

Customer leaves store in total shock, disorientation, and bewilderment. Says to himself – “What the fuck just happened!?” Then shrugs and walks home with his new purchases of pointless shit from Bed Bath & Beyond.

Mom, Dad – this really happened...to me. Can you send me more money for my birthday?

As you can all see, I am loosing control continuing on my neverending shopping spree. Buying up Bamboo shades, wall sconces, picture frames with Chinese writing - which by the way I really like Chinese writing. All of it seem to symbolize peace and tranquility – even if the writing translates to: “I will slaughter you with a goat’s horn.”

Hebrew writing doesn’t cut it. I mean, am I going to buy a large picture frame with the Hebrew writing showing the "Three Principles of Jewish Guilt" or a small picture frame showing the Hebrew word for “Oy”? No. I will buy Chinese and ONLY Chinese symbols for the walls. I am zen, Chinese writing is zen and by God my apartment will be zen-like.

I also bought lots of shelving from Home Depot to build my dream 2 square foot library in the corner of my living room. I even got a sign that says “Whispering only” and “No cell phones in library.” I bought those little water fountains (I even got one that actually has lights!!), a new dresser, and matching computer desk with hutch (both with a beautiful pine wood finish), lamps, and lots and lots of candles and candle holders.

Now before you start thinking that I am turning into a bit of a decorating fruit cake let me just say that the candles I got are not wussy foofy girly candles. Nope. These are big, bulky (but graceful looking) candles. Practically in the shape of Tikki Barber (Running Back for the New York Giants). They are MAN candles. Mandles if you will.

Everytime Ariana seemed to call and check up on me (bless her sweet heart) she would ask where I was. Of course I always seemed to be at Bed Bath. She commented that I now have a new sickness and I am in need of an intervention. But I said, “No way, Jose. I just need to get these 800 thread-count Egyptian Cotton sheets!” Very important not to chince out on your bed.

On cell:

TODD: Oh Look!

ARIANA: What!?

TODD: They have these Goose down pillows with Peruvian Ostrich feathers!!

ARIANA: Todd – you don’t need that.

TODD: What about a nice night stand?

ARIANA: Maybe.

TODD: Here’s one that has a Nigerian Platypus Bill finish! OH Look, Ariana, it comes with a Yeminese Olive Oil Lamp!! I’m getting it!!

My depression has lifted…for now. I am starting to feel good. Sexy even. My apartment really is coming along nicely. And the energy is warm, and inviting.

I have rejoined the gym. I have been playing more guitar. I am writing more. And great things are now happening at MTV and even with my acting career but that's for another blog...maybe.

Anyway - another 40grams of Lexipro and one more trip to Bed Bath & Beyond to purchase a few final items I saw last week will solidify my inner peace. Just three more items (besides a wall mounted plasma TV) that I definitely definitely need – They are calling for me and I am calling for them. Tomorrow, afterwork I will purchase a Digital/Programmable Ultrasonic Jewelry Cleaner, LumTweeze’s Professional Lighted Tweezers, and an Oregon Scientific Public Alert Radio/Wireless Weather Station Combo Set. Ahhhh…Happiness. Goodnight.

**SPECIAL THANKS TO ARIANA AND NEVA. YOU HAVE BOTH AWAKENED NEW INSPIRATION IN ME.**

Posted by Todd Wall at 4:56 PM | Permalink | Comments (0) |