Waiting is the hardest part.

I know you all have been chomping at the proverbial bit (assuming Jesus was a centaur, which would be kinda awesome) for some news about Lynda. Believe me, when I don't hear from her for more than 8 hours, I often break into cold sweats, and there is a lot of weeping, much like how I behave after... cuddling.

I, however only have to wait for the dependable and always punctual Lynda, and you have have to wait for me to find the time to write about that bucket of sunshine and light, and she's hot. But rest assured, we have been spending lots of time together lately. We made a promise to watch the new fall pilots together and pick our shows for the season. There was some staples, she agreed to Lost and The Loop when they get back on the air, if I watch Grey's Anatomy. I vetoed Desperate Housewives and she blocked the Sunday Night Football game. All reasonable. On our list of new shows was:

Studio 60
Heroes
Six Degrees
Smith
Jericho
The Class
Ugly Betty

On top of that, we are gonna try to watch the Law & Order: SVU, My Name Is Earl, and The Office. Obviously, it's a full plate, but we are gonna do what we can, with a help from the multiple DVR's in the house.

So far the winners are:

Studio 60

The maybes are:

Ugly Betty
Heroes
Smith

The bads are:

Six Degrees
The Class

And lastly, the bad enough that we will keep watching to see how bad it gets...

JERICHO!

The Class almost cracked that list, but really, if it was Til Death or Happy Hour, which are already floating near the cancelled drain, but it was just bad. Skeet Ulrich, come on! He can't carry a show. Atomic radiation and doomsday in middle America! Ragnarok! Dare I say, the Rapture. Fuckin right! i know what you are thinking: But John, aren't you worried that watching a show about atomic explotions and violence might effect your relationship with your Asian baby? I thought so, too. But I am not trying to intern her... yet. Just watch some programs with her and bond. The winter months are coming, and we'll have to stop going on bike rides. Oh, that's right! I bought her the cutest old school bike last weekend and myself one, so that we can got on romantic rides around New York. Best bf ever? Damn straight.

So Wednesdays, the night time, get ready for your weekly Jericho report from my and my special lady. It's gonna be tragic. I gotta go finish watching Heroes now. I'll let you know how it goes...

I totally dig where I live. This includes not only my vietnam themed bedroom, the America Room, the whole of the Hole @ Hellsgate, and also the surrounding area around my home. For instance, though I have explored a lot of it during my time when unemployment best described my work situation, or what historians will call my "In-Between" period. There will be a lot of people writing about my life. Most of them will be me. Anyway, Astoria Park is amazing. When Lynda was over the other night, we decided to take a nice romantic walk. Pergo came with us, too. We walked all around the park from Ditmars to Astoria Blvd, under the Hell's Gate Bridge and also the Triboro, and it was a really nice night out. A bit chilly, super romantic, and Pergo was there, too. We wandered around the perimeter and held some hands, Lynda and I, Pergo just walked near us. He was looking at the dogs that were around as he and Los Hermanos McInnes are really in the market for it. Lynda is all about it, too, which makes being against it hard. That is not to say I don't like dogs, cause I like dogs a lot, but I worry about a dog cooped up all alone in an apartment all day. Though Lynda has agreed to help out and walk it on occassion, when needed. And romantic dog walks sound like a pretty great idea to me! Sometimes Lynda and I practice by walking Pergo around the park. He chases squirrels. That's a weird word: squirrels.

If you are ever in the area of Astoria Park you should take a walk around. It really is beautiful. Andrew and Vanessa took a walk over the Triboro one day, which I would love to do sometime soon. Bridges are mostly awesome all the time. It's pretty much their distiguishing characteristic. Also, walks are like a fast-track to Make Out Town. And you're the mayor.

Oh my my my. How does the time fly! It's been a month since I met my princess of the Orient. One month, and two days to be perfectly precise, and as you know, I am always precise, like a metronome. What is the one month anniversary, anyway? The Wicker anniversary? That certainly would make things easy, in that I would just take her to see the new movie with Wicker in the title. It seems like there have been a lot of movies in the last year with wicker in the title. Like two, two movies in the last year, which seems like it is probably two more than in the last fifty years, maybe since the first wicker movie that the new one is a remake of.

But I digress, as per usual. I am thinking that maybe on Friday I will take Lynda out somewhere nice, to where, I do not know. Any ideas, faithful readers? She is working Saturday, though off on Sunday, but I am going, thanks to Christo, to see the Mighty Patriots of New England defeat the Feeble Jets of ... are they from Long Island or New Jersey?, with the also man who is really buried in Grant's tomb, Grant Fraze. Lynda complains that sports gets in the way of our relationship, I say it only strengthens it, cause when footballs is happening, I am much happier. Sure it takes up roughly 20 hours of my 48 free weekend hours, but in those hours I am often drinking heavily and getting high on testotorone, which every girl likes in her guy.

Alcohol and testerone -- set it in Canada and you have "A Very Special Espisode of Degrassi" dealing with someone getting raped. Those Canadians. Oh, that reminds me, Lynda and I totally watched like nine hours straight of Degrassi a week or so back ... but maybe it was this weekend... I don't remember, but I finally saw the abortion espisode, which was very special indeed. But I still haven't seen the Kevin Smith ones. Maybe the month anniversary could be the Degrassi anniversary.

Lynda and I agree. Manny is a total slut.

What a party! I am really excited Lynda finally got to meet a lot my friends. She came down to rock out to the musical song stylings of Augustana, the rockingest band to ever play my apartment. Basically, it was the best party ever. However, someone broke my door and the kegs got kicked WAY too early, but we persevere, cause that is how it goes in Astoria.

We had a great party, the band aucousticed it up until we made up words, which is basically all we can ask for. My baby and I danced it off till the lights came up in the earl' morn'. The Karaoke ran late, much to Maurice;s excitement, but the songs mostly were bad, real bad choices. She is mad at me though, cause I am going to the MET v DODGER game cause she is going to work at 3, but I am leaving much, much earlier. What a sweet dream.

Loving life.

Loving Lynda.

Bob Wiley would have us believe there are two types of people in this world: those who love Neil Diamond and those who hate Neil Diamond. The ND is one of those rare circumstances where it is one or the other with little grey area. I for one am the exception, and am mostly indifferent. Though if given the choice between Coming to America and Seger's Hollywood Nights, the Seager wins it over and over and over. I don't know how Lynda feels about Neil Diamond or Bob Seger, but I would bet she loves Seger. No, our differences lie much, much deeper.

A few years ago I was told that there are people out there, terrifying as it might be, that don't like Ginger Ale.

Take that in a little.

I know it's hard.

I nearly feinted.

Lynda equates it with being sick, in that the only time she really drank ginger ale was when her stomach was upset. This upset my stomach. Anyone that knows me knows that I eat, sleep, and breathe... drinking ginger ale. When people ask me, "If you were trapped on a desert island...?" I always answer, quick as possible, "Schwepps Dry Grape Ginger Ale!"

Generally it's a question about a book, or CD or some stupid shit. But for the record, I would probably take The Count of Monte Cristo and probably the Sufjan Stevens' album that Pergo just sent me, Come On, Feel the Illinoise, cause I am totally into it. Though I really want to re-read Lois Lowry's The Giver, and maybe Jeff Buckley's Grace, but who knows. I always answer ginger ale, cause it's my favorite thing.

However, I am super conflicted. Lynda is my favorite new thing, but ginger ale has never let me down. She feels about ginger ale the way I feel about orange marmalade. She can't eat when it's on the table. Gross out city. Ginger ale! Come on! So when we go to dinner, I have to go without a cool, frosty glass of the GA. I like it in a chilled mug. She told me that ginger beer was okay, and I had to school her in the fact that ginger beer is never okay, except in a dark & stormy.

Instead of drinking ginger ale with dinner, she has me drinking wine, or beer or whatever. I think really she is just trying to get me all drunk so she can do things to me.

This doesn't mean I like ginger ale any less. It just means I am drunk more.

What does Labor Day celebrate? Taking time off? I guess, I don't know. But regardless, how can you not like a half-day followed by a three day weekend, then a four day work week. It's a blessing. But I am probably gonna be busy as hell. But at least I didn't have work. Lynda did. Cause she is a wonderful worker, and people fly a lot on this weekend.

She was off on Friday and was really mad at me for going home. It was her first night off that I had off in weeks, and I could've left the next morning and still had time to get done what I "needed" to get done.

She wasn't happy. Especially when I called her and told her that I was stuck in Connecticutt in horrible and completely expected Connecticutt. She wanted me to hang out with her and then drive up afterwards when the traffic didn't suck. But I said I was gonna leave right after work to get a head-start and she told me that wouldn't work, but I didn't listen, cause, if you ask her, "I never listen". I don't know what's she's talking about.