Dean's World

I had a little problem back in October, when Fluppy died, and I started compulsively bidding on lamps at eBay. I had just discovered eBay and became instantly addicted to the sensations of of all, the escape, the way it makes everything stop hurting and it's all a dream. I started bidding maniacally, for hours on end. Every lamp was the lamp of my dreams. One of them had sailboats on it. One was a Victorian sconce. One was a Deco chandelier. One had pineapples engraved in the glass. One was the tackiest thing in the world. None of them seemed to cost anything much. So I started bidding. What's $9.99? What's $24.99?

I never win anything, generally, so I was stunned when I started winning several of them. That only fueled my addiction, because eBay is so congratulatory and kind and nice. CONGRATULATIONS PIE-PIE, YOU WON!!

My mother used to call me pie pie. None of these things are accidental or incidental. eBay is an opium den. The thing that really blew me away was when I got positive feedback. I paid for something, it arrived, I told the seller that I got it and liked it very much, and they started singing my praises on eBay. I don't really want to admit how many lamps I bid on, because I used the rent money for all these lamps. Jose hung them for me. And we got dimmers. The works. I can't get over the dimmers. I also bought a new sink on Craigslist. It is avocado green, ceramic, from the 50s, and belonged to the seller's grandmother, who she described via email. I had to hire a fairly expensive man with van from Craigslist, Avi, to pick it up. I was five minutes late when he delivered it and he was angry and scolded me (a bit.) I said I was sorry and asked him to leave it on the curb. He said it was too heavy for me. I told him I am stronger than I look. It was heavy as sin, but I got it upstairs by dragging it on a towel. "This way you can have your five minutes back," I told him, with a smile.

Nobody understands how ultra-sensitive I am about time. Time is my downfall, my great failure, the thing I can't handle anymore. I am late even when I am on time. Because people set their watches fast.

Or maybe because...I am always late. I got into a discussion about this with a man at a party recently and he sent me an article saying people in workplaces get angrier at people who are late than at people who smell. He was on their side.

I think it has all gotten out of hand.

Anyway.

The last two lamps got lost, and then found, at the post office, and tonight, in a sad mood, I came to my front door with the two boxes stacked to my chin, clasping my keys, unable to unlock the door. It's two doors, actually. And an electronic key system. Lo and behold, a homeless man appeared, with a cigarette dangling from his mouth. "Let me help you!' he said, leaping into action. I let him help me open the first door. "Let's get the next one," he said. "I can't stand to see a woman struggling. I'm a gentleman, see."

"Thank you," I shouted. "Thank you so much. You are a gentleman."

Suddenly, I felt happier. The Christmas tree was blinking so brightly in the lobby. I reminded myself to drop the super a note, telling her how much I love the Christmas tree, every single time I come in from the cold.

I think Jews who fight Christmas trees are crazy. Our super also put a paper menorah on the table. That doesn't make me feel the way the Christmas tree makes me feel. A Christmas tree looks like pure hope, to my eyes. At least one friend has said I am conflicted about my Judaism. (Father Jewish, mother Christian.)

I am not.

I am conflicted about my tardiness.

Why am I telling you these things? Because I have decided to write about tiny tiny things, every day, until somebody makes me stop. I am convinced that everything matters. And you got to take notes, along the way.