One of those confusing days in which Tuesday was actually Monday in drag.

A co-worker bopped into my office this morning to discuss a project. One that we'd talked about at the end of last week. He asked a couple of basic questions that I know had been asked and answered before. So it took me a while to figure out he was upset about something and wanted to vent.

There are any number of people that work where I do, but I don't really know them. I may recognize them in the outside world, but that's it. And a batch of these people are young guys. Of course, from time to time, I wonder who might be family. But I admit, I usually come away more confused than before.

So in the process of the venting, the thought crossed my mind several times. Was he seeking a kindred soul or a sympathetic ear? And what role should I assume. The gay older brother? Or the placid shrink?

There's also another factor at play here. How do I perceive myself? I've never though of myself as being that attractive. And over the years, I've become convinced that that's how I'm observed. There's no false modesty here, or regret for that matter.

I always keep hoping that some observant soul will look beneath and discover some quirky charm. But I'm also suspicious of anyone who acts like they might be interested. Talk about your paradox!

There also a converse to all this. I wonder what would it be like to be some stud muffin but at the time have some awareness of who I REALLY am. Something akin to a physical and emotional possession. In other words, I'd kill to be Jon Bon Jovi. Just for a couple of days......At least.......Please!

I was sitting by a window, reading "The New Yorker" and trying to look very urban. I glanced out the window and saw an elderly man ride by on a bicycle. It took me a while to realize his helmet looked like one of those clerical hats worn by Italian clergy in 50s movies.

This was such a strange apparation that I questioned whether it happened or was a mirage. A bizarre visual abberation. I tried to decide how I could prove what I had seen. But I concluded I couldn't.

There is some quality to noir that fascinates and haunts me. Maybe its because my life feels like a 40s B movie. Or else I keep seeing things that may or may not be there. PAX!