She Better Steer Clear Of The Shops On Bleecker Street

I was hanging out with Lira the other day, and she told me about this t-shirt she saw. "It said, 'I wish my grass was Emo, then it would cut itself.'" I started laughing, and she gave me one of her trademark frosty stares. "That's funny?"

"Well, yeah."

"And why is that funny?"

I actually struggled to come up with an explanation, and I wasn't sure if it was because sometimes it's difficult to sum up human behavior in way that Lira can understand, or if, when I thought about it, it actually wasn't funny at all. I tried telling her about some of the things I'd read about cutters, like how it's used to distract from emotional pain.

"Do you even remember what emotional pain is like?" she asked. "You haven't been dead that long, I know that void where your brain should be isn't much for retaining anything, but considuring what a mental whiner you were, I'd hoped you'd hold on to enough to see that there's no humor in someone dragging a razor across their arm. You really expect to be an angel without that?"

"Ok, let's back up for a second," I said. "Do you know what schadenfreude is?"

She put her hand on my head and gave me a gentle shake. "Did you actually find a way to kill brain cells that are already dead? I knew if someone could find a way, it would be you. I'm an archangel, you idiot, of course I know what that means. It's the malicious enjoyment of others' misfortune."

"And you also know how much I hated people, and for how long. Well, it's like, people either sympathize with the pain of others, or they take a certain satisfaction in it, as dispicable as that is. I'd always thought it was because people are such vile beings, but you also have to understand that it helps people deal with their own pain if they know that other people feel it too. When they're upset, and they walk around and see joy everywhere, it only angers them, because they feel more alone. Even if it's phony, because how can they tell? Knowing that others are screwed up makes people remember that other people are just like them, or at least it's a reminder that there's nothing really inherently wrong with them because pain is actually common."

"And that makes that stupid t-shirt funny?"

"Partly. But also there's a perception that that some overindulge in their own troubles for attention. Sometimes it's hard to tell the difference, but it's gotten easier the longer I've been an angel."

Lira looked at me and smiled. "Sweetheart, I'm going to let you in on a little secret. I knew all that. Like I said, I'm an archangel. I just wanted to see if you knew." She gave me a stern look as a way of saying she was serious and not just comedicaly saving face, but after the first time I spoke to her face to face, I never doubted her truthfulness anyway. "Your a good angel."

"Thanks," I said. "Sashial and I are going to the ball game tonight. You coming?" Her head dropped and I started to laugh. "Just kidding."

That's Not Quite How Michael Kay Would Phrase It

"Burnett's a question mark," said Sashial. "He's a fucking mental case. The Yankees need him to live up to his talent, he's never gonna do that if he doesn't learn to grow the fuck up and stop being a emotional little bitch."

I said, "That's funny, I heard one of the sportswriters from the New York Times say the same thing on ESPN." She laughed. "Get the fuck out of here, you wiseass!"

"You know, you're sounding more human every day."

She didn't seem to like that. "What the fuck are you talking about? I'm a fucking archangel."

"Yes, but when I met you, you seemed pretty down on the whole human race."

"Bullshit," she answered, "I always had love for you, you know that."

"Oh, nobody knows that better than me," I said, "but you still had a sincere contempt for what we did, it was like you were trying to rescue us from ourselves. I couldn't tell if we did a single thing you found worthy of your attention other than reveal our shortcomings. Look at you now. You love baseball. I know it started because you love heckling from the stands, but you're even talking statistics now, in your own way of course. You've taken enough interest in a human recreational activity to absorb a level of expertise. You would have never done that a year or two ago."

"How the fuck do you know that? Remember, Lira and I were in your head, not the other way around. You've gotten to know us really well over the past couple years, but there's a complexity to us you still couldn't imagine."

"So I'm wrong?" I asked.

She exhaled and tilted her head. "Not exactly. We were created for a specific purpose like the archangels, but we were also fitted to be adaptable. We can develop feelings and interests. Humans are constantly adapting too, I'm sure you know that. Their interests come and go with the generations, much shorter even. These things you think of as fads, we're not immune to them. We've seen so many things come and go, you saw dozens in your lifetime, imagine how many we've seen? It's a constant reminder that the human lifespan is so fleeting, these things define your era. To me, it's like they're gone in a heartbeat. Kind of like humans."

"What does it matter?" I asked. "When their life ends, they end up here."

"Oh FUCK, sometimes I really think you'll never fucking get it. Our goal is to enhance the living existence, to aid the challenge of that, and it goes by so quickly that if you blink and miss it, someone has a miserable life. Overcoming sorrow and desperation in your lifetime is the true reward, not playing video games and eating peanut fucking butter and chocolate cookies for eternity."

"Don't be hattin' on my Tagalongs," I said. "And I do get it. Well, I'm getting it."

She smiled. "I know you are, sweetie. Remember, angels go on for hundreds, maybe thousands of years. You've only been one for a few years. You've got plenty of time to learn."

"You're right. So, you think the Red Sox are really the favorites to win the division?"

She chortled and shook her head. "Fuck them."

Drop That Lobster Roll And Pass Me A Bagel!

Went to another Yankee game with Sashial yesterday. Thus was a big one, cause it was against Boston. She felt the raised excitement and tension level, and so I had to explain the history of the rivalry. "So it gets pretty heated?" she asked.

"Sometimes," I said. " depends on the person. This one girl from Boston I know, after they Yanks won the series one year, she congratulated me. Then this other one, really nice girl, very cool, but when I told her I liked the city of Boston, she wouldn't believe me. She said I couldn't because I'm a Yankee fan."

"What's one thing got to do with another?"

"That's what I asked. She said the city and the team are connected. I was like, 'Well I was there and I felt joy, I don't know what to tell you.' Then I told this to another girl from Boston, and she said she didn't buy that, because she's a Boston fan and she likes new York City. So I told the first girl this and she said it's not the same because Boston's smaller."

Sashial looked confused and annoyed. "Smaller? Are you fucking kidding me? Like the team is a bigger part of the city because there's less of it?"

"I guess."

"What bullshit. You realize what she's actually saying, right? She's saying she forbids you to like Boston, because as a Yankee fan she feels you're unworthy of liking her fucking town. Is this someone you worked with?"

"Yeah."

"So she worked in New York city. Did she live here too?"

"Yep. Still does as far as I know."

"So she owes her fucking home and livelihood to your city. Basically, she's allowed to like your city but you're not allowed to like hers. That's pretty fucking convenient for her. You know, some people might tell her how hypocritical that is, and say, "Doesn't work that way, this isn't a one way street. If this is the way you feel about teams and geography you should be true to yourself and get the fuck out of my city."

I smirked as I shook my head. "I'm too nice to say something like that."

"I know you are, baby."

"How do you help someone like that?" I asked.

"Same as you do everyone else. It's not you job to help her fucking grow up. Just to be there if she needs you."

The Starter Needs A Reliever

Sashial, Lira, Marley and I went to the parallel baseball game last night, hoping it would be the last and we'd be celebrating victory. Lira had finally relented and came to a game, given the promise of a celebration, but she only lasted a few innings. "Humans actually watch this? For real? Forty thousand humans have nothing better to do than watch a bunch of rich guys play in the grass?"

"Yes," I said, "I've been going to games for years."

"Why?"

"It's fun."

She gave me that "I feel sorry for you if you meant that" look she gets, and said, "If this was your escape, then no wonder you were depressed down there. I'm outta here."

She disappeared and the game continued. If you watched it, then you know it didn't go so well for us. Marley was never exactly enthralled by baseball; she went to games with me every once in a while because she likes sensing the joy in me when things go well. If they don't, and she feels my pain, it gets pretty tough to get her to come back for a while, which is why Sashial makes the better ballgame buddy.

But tonight was especially bad, and not just because of me. When our starting pitcher fell apart and was ousted in the early going, Marley started to cry. "It's ok," I said. "The game's not over."

"It is for him," she said, referring to the pitcher. "He's so sad. I can feel it so strong, and it's not even really him, it's the parallel him."

"What would you say to him?"

"Try to remind him we're on his side. He thinks we hate him because he's a failure, and so he's ashamed. You have to let him know that people understand. Not everyone of course, but those quick to land blame on him entirely don't have realistic ideas of how human beings are. They're in for more disappointment and unhappiness. Chances are we'll end up seeing them for one reason or another."

"That's a lot of people to see," I said.

She smiled and answered, "We have time."

A Valiant Effort

Sashial and I went to the bombers game tonight. They fucking lost, which was disappointing. Doubly bad was they made this huge comeback, scoring four runs in the ninth inning when they were down by five, blowing it on a popped up bunt and an unassisted double play. I was pretty bummed, but you should of seen Sashial. She just stood there and went, "Oh MOTHERFUCKER! MOTHERFUCKER THAT FUCKING MOTHERFUCKER!" I'm not sure if she was talking about the guy who hit the ball or the guy who caught it, but with her, you learn not to ask these things. The weird thing is I don't even know which she likes better, the bombers or the excuse to scream and curse. That's the reason she got into the game in the first place, and she only likes the bombers basically because I do. It's kind of amazing, to think baseball's been around for over a hundred years, but in all her travels and tribulations, nothing brought her to it until I did. Then again, it's not like she needs a reason to yell, she certainly doesn't care what anyone thinks of her, much less the humans on Earth.

She did something interesting before we left, though. After she calmed down, she looked at me with those puppy dog eyes she gets, and said, "I'm so sorry, honey." I told her I was kind of bummed, but it wasn't that big a deal, and when I tried to explain their healthy position in the standings, she shook her head and whispered, "I don't care." That is so her. Then she asked when we could go again. I asked if Lira might want to come next time, and Sashial said, "Don't have faith on it. See thinks watching people swing sticks a ball for three hours sounds like punishment in hell." That's so Lira. Those two are the best.