OUT OF FOCUS

Sonny Peterson; Debt Collector.

I once made the innocent mistake of lending a 20 year-old professional athlete my identity for a day. The muscled chap didn't speak a lick of English and needed someone to buy him a cell phone plan. What's a Russian foreign boy to do when you have to call home to Mom whom I, in my cozy warm Manhattan bubble, pictured her living in a remote Siberian town shivering in a cold bread line.

I should have stopped after the first Vodka. 

Months later, as he was long forgotten, I received a phone call from an abusive debt collector working at a collection agency for one of the major cell phone carriers who's name I shall not disclose.  Let's just call them Verizon.  He called himself Sonny Peterson, a cheap imitation of a badass Brooklyn cop from the 70’s. He spoke in choppy, unfinished thoughts and used witty verbal scare tactics and called religiously every Monday between the hours of 3 and 5 PM. 

I got to know Sonny better through our passive/aggressive relationship over the months he menaced me, and quite frankly, there was something so Lifetime Movie about the situation, that I started enjoying his badly-rehearsed threatening phone calls.

Movie Trailer Voice: 

She was making a living.  He was trying to destroy it. 

A victim who wouldn't pay.  A culprit who tried to make her. 

One woman's courage.  Another man's obsession.  

I STILL REMEMBER OUR FIRST PHONE CALL:

KALI: Hello?

(long beat)

SONNY: Gonna pay?

KALI: Who's calling?

SONNY: I should be asking you that-

KALI: Excuse me?

SONNY: Kaliopy. Is that what they call you?

KALI: Yes? Who is this?

SONNY:  Or should I call you jalopy?

KALI: Dad, is that you?

SONNY: This is Sonny Peterson.  You don't know me but I know you-

KALI HANGS UP.  PHONE RINGS AGAIN.

KALI: Hello?

SONNY:  I got ya numba, lady.  When you gonna pay your debt?  

KALI: Grandpa?

SONNY:  So you got a real cast of funny characters in ya family, huh? Well this ain’t a movie, Jelopy.  You own Verizon six hundred and fifty dollahs...

KALI: OH! Is this regarding the outstanding phone bill?  Well, that’s not my phone-

SONNY: It’s got ya finga prints on it.

KALI:  Yeah, but Im not responsible for that-

SONNY: Just like the Hitler aint responsible for killing 6 million Jews.  I got ya numba, Jelopy....

And the phone calls went on.  In fact, I wish I could transcribe half of them, bound them as a book and gift them for the holidays.

********

I was hoping Sonny and I would get to know each other well enough where he would be open to sharing some personal photos with me.  I picture him a cross between Juan Epstein and Gabe Kaplan from Welcome Back Kotter. 

I still owe "Verizon" Six hundred and fifty bucks but it was worth the three shots of horseradish vodka.

Shoplifting Arrests Linked to Attention Deficit

I almost got arrested for shoplifting from Century 21 tonight. No, I didn't try to steal anything but I did.  Absent-mindedly.

As I sit here replaying the evening in my head, in between sniffs of Rosemary oil, supposedly a "memory enhancer", I am once again reminded of the ramifications of unmedicated A.D.D.

My cousin, the fasionista, and I had roughly forty three minutes to comb through three floors and 872 racks.  We were shot up with shopping adrenaline.   So we find the Vintage Havana, the line that she designs, and I continue to buy out the whole line in my size. 

Eight minutes to closing, we head to the counter to pay for my goods.  Since I do my best to avoid using plastic bags, I hand the friendly cashier my reusable cloth grocery bag.  

She says, "Sorry, Miss but I cannot put your items in that bag because I gotta staple the receipt to the bag so I'll have to put them in a plastic one".  Feeling reluctant and less green, I resigned to the plastic.  

"Besides" she added, "It'll look like you were stealing those clothes if you stuff 'em in your bag".

"I always put my groceries in there," I defended.  "No one thinks Im stealin the Lipton?".

She hands me the bad and asks me to take a three-question survey online in exchange for a "free gift".  Since there were stacks of Godiva at the register, I knew what prize I was heading for and answered on all three Q's "exceeded my expectations" and won a miniature boxing glove keychain instead. I stuff them in my purse, coat and bags in hand, and head towards the exit.

Three feet in front of two starched security guards, I go to put my heavy winter coat on and underneath I see I am still carrying a black Century 21 sweater.  My first thought was, Ah, sh*t, I was talking so much, the cashier forgot to put the sweater in the bag but I continue to walk towards the guards.

It wasn't until the sensors went off when I thought to myself, "maybe I blindly scooped the sweater up as I lifted my coat off the counter while I was swiping my credit card?"

And at that moment, I pause in front of the guards and said to my cousin, "I feel like I've forgotten something"?

Alarms ring.  Sensors buzz.

"Excuse me, ma'am.  Can you please step to the side?" one of the guards asked.

"Was that me?" I innocently asked.  "Ah, it was me. Look I still have a sweater of yours on my coat", I say as I proudly raise the lifted item up to the guard. 

"I know that", he retorted, handling the sweater and pointing out the sensor.  "This sweater was under your coat."

"I know, but my mind was on Yogurt Land", I explained.  "Can you do me a favor?  Can you open my shopping bag and see how many items I have? The cashier must have forgotten to place it in the bag".  

"No, I can't. How come there's no tag on the item?" the guard asks. 

I look down at the sweater.  "Oh, that really sucks. It must have fallen off.  Can I still buy it if I haven't already?"

As he motions me to wait and informs me that he is calling over a cop to get some "information from me" the only thought in my head was, "Do I really need another short black sweater?  Wait...but this one has really fun buttons".Meanwhile, the guards are looking at my like I'm wearing two heads and my cousin is turning red muttering under her breath, "Oh my God, we're in trouble".  With all this chaos going on right in front of me, I was still so foggy-brained that it didn't officially register that maybe, just maybe, they think I SHOPLIFTED the sweater.

As we wait eagerly, my cousin sees one security mouth to the other security guard, "It was under her coat". 

Meanwhile, again, I am growing impatiently and I say to my cousin, "Are they gonna find out the price?" She looks at me and says in slow motion, "They-think-you-stole-the sweat-er".

Ahhh....

Next thing I know, a veteran New Yawk policeman walks up to me and ushers me to a corner.  "Aw right" he says, "tell me what's goin on?"

"Nothing Officer, I was walking out with the sweater.  I thought I bought it but I guess I didn't and my cousin wants to take me to Yogurt Land-"

He gives me a pat on the arm and spoke gently, "Just be more careful next time".

More careful? 

What the hell did that mean? More careful paying attention or more careful shoplifting?  Either way, I was mildly insulted but managed to shrug it off because I really did want the cotton-knit, giant-buttoned black sweater.

"Can I still buy the sweater?" I asked the guard.

"The stores closed now," he said tired of us by now.

"I know but I'm still in the store so I might as well buy it, right?" I ask.

"Fine", he says and ushers me towards the cashier.

I hand the sweater to the cashier, a flamboyantly well-dressed gay.

"There's no price tag on this?" Sally tells me.  "We're closing up now so I can put it on layaway-"

"I can't" I interrupted.  "I live all the way uptown. Can my cousin go upstairs and find one with a price tag?"

She did.  With a police escort.

"Sorry, I get a little light-headed sometimes", I apologized to the guard as all eyes were on us as we were leaving. He smiled back at me, realizing at that moment that it was probably true. I was a little light-headed.

We walked outside, sweater in bag.  

I turned to my cousin and asked, "Did it look like I tried to steal that 

sweater?"

"Don't worry" she said as we headed off to Yogurt Land. "It'll look great with jeans or a jumper. In prison."

My Mood After The Election...

This video best depicts my mood...

Time Management Without Wellbutrin for ADHD? A bust.

I began this blog back in March 2007 as an experiment to see if, in fact, a daily dose of Wellbutrin,  could help me perform a task consecutively for one year.

Well, March 2008 I had confirmed my hypothesis: 

Taking Wellbutrin will keep you blogging for one consecutive year and give you the focus that you need to accomplish your goals. 

August of 2008, just three months ago, I started tapering off the drug, and being off it completely now for four weeks, the mental perplexity has begun once again. 

Its hard to put in words for those who have never experienced chaotic, short-circuited and uncontrollable brain activity.  The child-like giddiness is back and the hyper-desire to tackle anything and everything is with me 24/7.  As I reluctantly set out to "achieve everything on my daily To Do List"   I find that on my desk still lies:

1. A pile of cooking resumes that were supposed to be mailed out a month ago.

2. Phone calls to Health Insurance companies that should have been made weeks ago.

3. An overflowing IN BOX that was once empty...

But here's the unique juncture:

This is one of the many unnecessary tasks I find myself performing while I stare at my long-awaited To Do List:

1. Attempting to open up a free checking account for my Wheatan after reading about Trouble, Leona Helmsley's Maltese, who was left a plush inheritance of 12 million dollars.

It went something like this:

INT. BANK- DAY 

KALI

Good morning. 

BANK TELLER 

Good Morning, welcome to Citibank. How can I help you? 

KALI 

I'd like open up a free checking for my dog, please. 

BANK TELLER 

Your dog? 

KALI 

Yes. 

BANK TELLER 

(la-de-da laughter)

We don't open accounts for pets.  

KALI 

(mocking her la-de-la laughter)

Leona Helmsley left a will for her dog. I'd like a free checking for mine. 

BANK TELLER 

We don't- 

KALI 

I'd like to see a manager, please- 

BANK TELLER 

I'm sorry, what is your name? 

KALI 

Kali. Kali Karagias. 

BANK TELLER 

Sounds like a super hero? 

KALI 

That was racist-

(insert awkwardness here)

BANK TELLER

One moment. 

TELLER WALKS AWAY AS KALI PETS HER DOG LOVINGLY. MANAGER ENTERS APPROACHING KALI.

MANAGER 

Hi, you must be Ms. Car-a-GEE-iz? 

KALI 

Not really but OK. 

MANAGER 

Evelyn informed me that you would like to open up an account for your dog but unfortunately we don't offer services for pets. 

KALI 

So your racist? 

MANAGER 

Beg your pardon? 

KALI 

You won't do it because my dog's black. 

MANAGER 

It has nothing-

KALI 

Leona's Maltese was white and got millions and I can't open up a free checking? Its because he's black, isn't it? 

MANAGER

Ma'am, I'm black.  Why would I be racist towards your dog?

KALI

Its so typical for a man like yourself to be sexually harassing a piece of ass like myself. I'd like to see the manager, please.

MANAGER

I am the manager.

KALI

No, you're just filling a quota.

MANAGER

Ma'am, if you are going to get belligerent, Im going to have to ask you to leave.  With your dog.

KALI

I'm sorry but the comedic timing was perfect- 

(insert another awkward pause here)

Can I get the balance on my savings?

************

It's NOT uncommon for someone with uncontrollable ADHD to go to that place and place one's foot in one's very large mouth.

Its lack of impulse control and forgetting the obvious that is the biggest struggle.  

Which brings me to this probing thought:

If ADHD and Asperger's Syndrome are both neurobehavioral disorders than can they be congruous in any way?  

I was so reluctant to even ask this question due to the stigma ADHD has had for so long, the stigma that it JUST DOESN'T EXIST.  I am grateful to see that the disease has received some validity by a major media companies like Forbes in the last couple of years. The article, Brain Studies Show ADHD is Real Disease, is worth the read.

.

In last month's, Business Week, there is an inspirational article regarding the success of Bit Torrent'Bram Cohen and his ability to function with Asperger's Syndrome.

I went to a wake last Tuesday and I thought it would be nice to lighten up the mood of the funeral home so when I walked in and saw the coffin from across the room, I asked the deceased's husband, "Is that the open buffet?" 

Is that ADHD, Asperger's or Tourette's?