.my bad fortune.

Since this was on last night in New York, I though I'd post one of the best moments in Seinfeld history from the "Subway" episode. And I'm not one of those freaky Seinfeld people either. Elaine's inner monologue on her way to a wedding and the train stops:

Elaine: Oh this is great this is what I need, just what I need. OK take it easy. I'm sure it's nothing, probably rats on the track. They're stopping for rats! God it's so crowded. How could there be so many people? This guy really smells. Doesen't anyone use deodorant in this city? What is so hard? You take a cap off and roll it on.

What's that? I feel something rubbing against me. These disgusting animals, these people should be in a cage! We are in a cage! What If I miss the wedding?, I got the ring What'll they do?, You can't get married without a ring. Oh god I can't breathe! I feel faint. OK take it easy It'll start moving soon. Think about people in concentration camps. What they went through, and the hostages! What would you do if you were a hostage? Think about that! This is nothing. No it's not nothing it's something, it's a nightmare help me!, Move it come on! Move this Fucking thing!

Why couldn't I take a cab? For 6$ my whole life could have changed. What is that on my leg!? I'm never gonna get out of here. What if I'm here for the rest of my life? Maybe I'll get out in 5 seconds, one banana, two banana, three banana, four banana, five banana...no I'm still here! Still here! When will they start moving? Move!,move!,move! (train moves) It's moving!, it's moving! Yes! Yes! (train stops) MOTHERFUCKER!.

.some bird of paradise.

Taken from the amazing MAO:
Please give if you can and support the arts!

.and i feel like.

Just in case you forgot:
The best news story of the year.

.just what it was worth.

It's going to be one of those days.
Isn't it?

I woke up and there was
no
winterwonderland
as promise
by all weathermen in new york.

I couldn't get up.

I left early to deposit my paycheck.
I sat down on a bench in the station.
To read my book.
I hear bad 90s dance music and look up
To see who was listening to it.
And
I looked up to see a man,
Masturbating
In front of me.

If I had a hardback book
I would have taken it
and swung with all my energy at his crotch.

But the train came (no pun necessary).
And I burried my nose in my book
(1984)
And realized it was going to be one of those day.

Jesus fucking Christ.

.and the meaning.

and i though
a weird bratty kid living
next door
was
bad.

someone
on my floor just got a new
dog.puppies.whatever.
and said whatever
has been howling
all day
sometimes causing
a chain reaction
of howls.

literally.
none stop.

can i have that weird little
brat,
who leaves lists
that are unfinished
under my door,
back?

my guilt
of the poor puppy subject
is being outnumbered by my hangover.

.time travel.

Ugh.
Producers!
Give up.
You're fucked without the
writers.
Give them a break.
And give us back
The Daily Show
and
The Colbert Report.

You can keep Leno.

.talking about.

(subtitled: SUBWAY GONE MAD!)



So, every one in New York has laughed at and then felt awful has seen this video. It's by an aspiring filmmaker but not staged (I believe this, others doubt it) and features a gang of really, really annoying girls attacking a random guy.
Watch.
And love.
And feel bad for loving.

Also....
The A,C,E,B,D,F and V trains are running.
very
very
slow.
As I waited in the parked F train
the whole car gawked at the medical team coming into a stopped B train which had been evacuated.
People love accidents.
It gives us an excuse to say
I was there!
And tell our story.
over
and over
again.

Gotta love it.

.just what i could do.

(subtitled: a review)

So I just got back from the Banksy show at the Vanina Holasek Gallery (on the same block as Aperture, of course). Today was also the first real snow in the city and it was still coming down as I headed out for the show.

What opening is 1-5 on a Sunday?

Anyways. It's snowy and cold and I get there (it's a very small gallery in an old three story townhouse, a great, different space) at about 1:10 and there is already a line down the block. Apparently the gallery can't hold more than 111 people at once and everyone had to move up and down the stairs in shifts.
The wait wasn't long and the people behind me were hilarious and I should have said something but I thought it to be rude. Oh well.

As for the show.

I didn't like it.
Not at all.
I thought I would. I love Banksy and his "work" (he is the artist of this generation that makes all sorta of people ask that horrid question, "is it art?") but it does not belong in a gallery. It looked completely out of place, like a hobo in a business suit at the beach.
The gallery was "destroyed" which meant candles, smiley face night lights, Christmas lights in wastebaskets (what was that?) and pink paint splatter all over the wall to resemble (?) the drips of graffiti. I guess. His work which is usually spray painted all over Britain seemed to defy its purpose carefully printed and framed (on this splatter wall). I understand the contrast of these two but the execution was incomplete.

For those who have no idea who Banksy is, there is some great material on him and his work, especially since there are little (if any?) appearances of his work in America. His stencils are commentary on the currently climate of unrest, unemployment, royalty worshiping/hating in Britain. It reminds the viewer that the Thatcher-ism that plagued the nation in the 80s is still in effect today.

In Banksy's world Princess Di is on the pound note, the Queen is a monkey and Winston Churchill has a mowhawk (this one was new to me and I felt it was just a stretch for him). It also deals with the brands and companies that are dominating Britain, especially Tesco who, to my knowledge, doesn't really have an American equivalent (the closet I guess would be a large Costco or Walmart). He now plays with Warhol imagery and places it in a dim, modern context. Which, as being bias toward the side of the fence that hates Warhol, I didn't like at all.

Banksy is best when he's on the street. Playing with the environment he's graffiting on (see picture). His earlier rats played on British politics and classism that was effective and also interesting aesthetically. He created controversy by spraying anything and anywhere making the public question more what is was about rather than if it was art. The only thing people seem to interested in now is how much (for Christ's sake Angelina Jolie bought a works by him, ugly ones at that) and what he actually looks like and who he is (actually that's been answered but I don't know what the next step is). I was really looking forward to the opening, hoping it would be chaos and tagging going on all over the place. But it was like any other art opening, where people came to talk to each other and shuffle by the art in a line.

So, thats my review and if any New Yorkers are reading this you should check it out and report back to me. I'm trying to answer my own question if its genius in its unabashed candidness or corny beyond reason.

And also, if you're a British ex-pat, don't worry all your fellow countrymen/women are at that show, I was one of maybe 12 Americans. You should feel at home (?).

.you showed me.

and then there is this,
the best rant about housing in new york

.hungover.

(I don't know
why
the last post is so very small)

But this
(this right here - it's a link dumbasses)
is what should be
on the subway.

.in chinatown.

subway rules and, of course, rants. part one:

* Men, I don't care if its sexist or whatever, give up your seat for me or any other woman who comes on. I've been wearing insane shoes all day (wedges with the base less than 1/2 an inch) and I want to fucking sit down. Men, no matter what you think, you're shoes are not uncomfortable. Mine are. Move it.

* Anyone over 300 lbs. shouldn't really take the subway. It's a lot of stairs - take the bus. I don't care. I'm not a skinny mini, but you people take up why too much space and when you huff and puff up the stairs I feel bad. Really, really bad. But angry. Mostly angry.

* If you can take the V train, take it. Get the fuck off the F train.

* Guys: don't flirt/hit on/whatever with girls. It's fucking gross but mostly annoying. Life doesn't work that way; except for that guy with the weird hair and the rose cheeked Aussie (cynic me says: give them a month but romantic me says: how cute, I hope they make it). Just because you are listening to Barry White on full blast on your headphones doesn't mean you're romantic. I had to sit next to a nice girl and the guy facing her wouldn't leave her alone. She was polite but had to get off at the next stop and get on the next car. Screw you guys.

* Mariachi bands - you are not welcome. Why are they always so small?

* You are so not allowed to open your bags and put out an entire meal out and eat it like you're at home. What is that? Why?

* Don't sit with your legs stretched out when it's packed - that is so not cool

* Don't sit with your legs open wide taking up essentially two seats - that is so not cool.

* Morning: I'm sleepy, I don't want to be awake. Night: fuck you I fucking hate you.

* You know what's easier than reading a book? Reading a book without your fucking sunglasses on. What the fuck is that? Am I suppose to be impressed? Or think you're a celebrity? I don't think they take the '2'. I hate you. I really do.

* Don't sit at the seat under the map! People lean over you and its really annoying. People should just buy one of those credit card sized maps or the ones that you can put on your iPod.

* Guys (again): If a girl is sitting and you're standing - face away. Do not put your crotch in my face. It's gross but there is no where else to look and I will look at your crotch. Not because I think you're gosh so handsome with your sweat covered shirt and hair coming out of every angle but I wish I weren't look at your and your crotch. Ew!

* Take your backpack off! For the love of fucking god! It's taking up so much room and know where there's room to put it, on the floor. You know where legs which are, in general, much thinner than people's shoulder's span. Why are there so many people walking around that look like they're hiking? Where are you hiking? Why don't I know about this?

* Family of southern hick idiots. Just don't go on the subway. I hate you. Everyone hates you with your 'I Heart New York' shirts.

* Move to the center of the train! What's wrong with you people?!?! Move!

* Let people off the train! Can you not hear the conductor? Are you the rudest human being on the planet? You're not getting a seat anyways so just stop it.

* It was me who farted. Get over it.

* Don't go on the subway with your coffee. If need to explain that than you're a lost cause.

* Mind the gap. Really.

* If you just got through the turntables and hear the train coming in; you won't make it so don't push past me to try and get it. I would trip you if the fall was bigger but at that distance there wouldn't really be much damage.

* Don't get to the surface and stand their like a fish out of water. Move. Okay, so you don't know where you're going but I do so get out of my way!

* If a train comes in packed you should get on it and push and push until you do. You know why? Because there is a train directly behind the one you're pushing onto and that one is empty and therefor, more room for me. Hooray! I win!

* Don't ask because, yes, that is urine.


I'll think of more but I'm usually too angry to remember. God damn MTA. Fucking $2 a ride. Uuuuugggghhhh. And the only other way to get to work is the M23 which is slower than a chicken! No really! It is!

.and I was really in love.

Why does every song tell me to dance?
I do not wish to dance. I wish sit here and
calmly
listen to this song.

Thank you.

.looked into your eyes.

this post
old news in new york

the surveillance images
of the preppy killer
in his newest
blunder

jackass.
"tiny girl raped me in central park"
biggest douche
of new york

and that takes a lot

but these photos
are great
the pairing of them
is genius
great composition

don't you think?

.five in the morning.

Good news children.
Celebrate for one more year.
And a year after that.
Will every year be the last?
(another chance to be in the
mermaid parade)
Hooray!

.your boy's smile.

Dear F Train:

everyone hates you.
everyone.

people who have lived here
for weeks
or
for decades.

i failed you on your report card.
and i enjoyed every moment of it.

i hate you so much.
(yet i need you everyday)
fuck you.

-me

.have done it with you.

has anyone
noticed
that
Andy Samberg
can do or say whatever he wants
now.

i think most of his stuff is
pretty funny.

but he seems so
fucking smug.

i think i would
punch him in the face
if i ever saw him eating on the street.

no hard feelings or anything.
i just would.
just...cause.

.but i'd rather.

or subtitled: why gossip girl is the best new york show, ever.

- The only areas in manhattan are apparently Upper East Side and "downtown"

- The completely non-sense reasoning behind the character's actions (dad's gay so I'm a bitch)

- The "poor" family lives in "brooklynville"

- But they live (I think) above the gallery the dad owns called Bedford Avenue Gallery

- Dad says he's sorry for his lack of money but the cost of living in that area and owning an amazing loft apartment is much more than the private school education that he's providing for his two teens

- Though with their weird timeline he would have been like 15 when he had the eldest teen

- The fact that the gothamist covers it with each episode.

- The fact that the Gothamist exposed that the bitchy girl's party was actually shot in LIC (Long Island City, Queens). Like, ewwww, Queens.

- Lonely boy Dan looks my age (and imdb check says....yes! he's only a year younger than myself)

- Suicidal brother is the only one who looks the correct age (and imdb check says...yes! he's actually 17)

- Suicidal brother is in a rehab center that always someone to easily sneak him and take him to marquee (non-ny-ers: infamously obnoxious club that has standards of entry beyond comprehension - it is also mentioned in ugly betty for being the scene of a car crash involving a donatella versace-esq woman or the worst place to take anyone straight out of rehab, the lindasy lohan effect)

- There are "uniforms" at this private school they go to which translate into any sort of variation of trendy woman/mens wear. Example: Serena wears knee high riding boots, grey shorts, a white tank top, a sort of flimsy vest and a loose tie while others may wear a gwen stefani version of japanese school girl.

- The "bitchy" girl's "best friends" are an asian and a black girl that never say a word and dress exactly how you would stereotype them...it's amazingly archaic

- The new girl, the one whose dad says "brooklynville" is the girl from How the Grinch Stole Christmas. Classic.

- Two of the characters are forced to stay into a relationship because their families have companies that might do business with each other and they want to keep it that way. Fabulous.

- The bitchy girl is a virgin if I remember correctly. A slutty, slutty virgin.

- There are no homosexuals in the Upper East Side - except for the bitchy girl's father, who left.

- Everyone drinks (underage drinks) but no one smokes. Thank you new government standards. Teach the kids that cigarettes are so not cool but drinking and flirting with 30 year old strangers is perfectly acceptable television (oh, this drinking never makes anyone sick or, so far, has any consequences except for making people, like, so much more fun)

- A fun casual shopping trip includes a stop at Bergdorf Goodman. Where you can buy this ridiculously priced outfit. I know this is perfectly acceptable for rich UESers, but I still don't have to like. Show me some smoking!

- And last but not least, the complete lacking of acting skills by all the actors and the fact that I would never ever want that to change.

.a tall building.

i'm awake
after a day when the only thing i could
think about it
was going to bed.
early.

they're filming a movie
right outside my window.

it's a new years scene
so now they're making
snow
and it's
70 degrees
right now.
it keeps melting.
so they keep making it.

it's so bright.
and no one
can sleep.

so we're all sitting in our windows.
tired.
watching the filming.

so tired.
but so fascinating.

.off the top of.

despite all my
complainings
and
negative observations

this is the cutest, most clever commercial i've ever seen.

it is so well designed.

and these (and this) posters are pretty amazing as well.

.threw my bad fortune.

when i come home from work.
i get off at west 4th on the C/E.
and i
walk down
to catch the
F.
every step down
the heat overwhelms me more.

like i'm going to the
5th circle of hell.
swamp.
but with no water.
and Hermes isn't waiting for me.
just the F train.
with it's cranky conductors.
who say things like:
"this is delancy street on the brooklyn bound F train, next stop is...next stop is...next stop is I don't know"

(if i only made these things up)

(flip record to side 1B)

i left for work.
got in the elevator with a girl.
walked out,
it was
freezy
went to the ATM
came back
and waiting for the elevator
was the same girl.
"you forget something too?"

it was just a
moment
i liked.

.lights.

New Yorkers want you
to feel like
your in an
exclusive club
with rules and ways of doing things
but in reality
it's an overpriced membership to the YMCA

.the bright.

Glad someone else wrote about this
because
I thought I was crazy
for thinking the
same.

Week in Review
Curbside, We’ll Never Have Paris
By FRANK BRUNI
Published: September 30, 2007
New York cafes, where the elbows on your table aren’t
necessarily yours

.now turn on.

okay,
here it is
me being tired of being stoic
tired of pretending it's all okay
i'm so sick and tired of being sick and tired
to use an old saying.

i'm on this island.
will all sorts of ways of
coming
and going.
and millions of people.

i have no friends.
i have a job
(not even a job)
that has a great name
and i
essentially
fucking hate it.

i'm a shell at work.
i'm a shell when i get home.
i'm always tired
and i have nothing to say

but i'm tired of playing devil's advocate
in my own life.

there are a million things to do in this city.
but when you're miserable
and alone
you don't want to do a single one.
you want to curl up in bed and cry.
but then you'll feel bad about crying.
there i go again, playing both sides.

my friends don't call me.
god forbid they move beyond the computer screen.
and the ones that do, they don't want to hear this crap.

so many miserable people just want to give up and die.

i just want to live.

i've been alive 22 years and sometimes I feel like I haven't lived a single day of my life.

.it's up to me.

in this blog
subtitled: life vs. MTA

today

the MTA won.

.somehow i'm not impressed.

dear dan deacon:

go away

forever!

-me

.i know you've supported me for a long time.

Iranian President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad
is speaking at
Columbia
which people think is a mistake
he's allowed to.
should universities only have
speakers
who are liberal or butt buddies to Bush?

Columbia's Public Affairs dean
John Coatsworth
said he'd invite Hilter to
engage in
debate.

a debate is, oddly enough
you idiots
a count-counterpoint.
that means one person has one opinion
the other person has the opposite.
a debate is not an
agreement.

Hilter thought the slaughtering of Jews and gays and others
was
just okay in his book.
Ahmadinejad didn't think it happened.

I disagree with both.
I'd be open to a debate.

.and the pavements, they are a mess.

i went to central park
the gardens by 106th
and they're cute
and i was walking uphill
when, in a second,
it started to pour.

i stood under a tree.
with some runners
but who knew when it would end.
so kept walking
up the dirt mounds.

and getting some great photos.

and the rain let up.
and then it didn't - it started again.

so i stood there at the mount sinai
nursing building.
getting dry.
then i gave up.
and walked and walked in the rain
(no,
it was only 6 blocks)

and i was soaked.
but i got some great photos.

.a porno.

so there's this
guy
animal
thing
who lives across the street
and stands outside
and makes that
about-to-hock-a-loogie
noise every 30 minutes
and i have the windows
open
because it's
nice
outside.
dear guy, animal, thing: stop it.
if i hear it
one more time
i will vomit
and lean out the window
and it will land on you.
so,
for the sack of all
stop it.

.subway she is.

finally, comes me
complaining
about the price of things
in this city.
this island.
this capital of capital.

what's the point
of everything being so
expensive?

a six dollar coffee.
a fifteen dollar cocktail.

it's creating an island
of elitism.
a place only a
few
can play and scoff at everyone
else.

(and don't be naive enough to think it isn't happening in the bronx or brooklyn or queens - as for staten island...where is that again?)

isolated from the real world.
i've seen it.
in action.
the social circles.
unaware of the
poverty
and heartache
of other places.
not saying one should walk around
sad
and crying.
but just realizing there is more to life
than
parties
and socializing.
and climbing that proverbal ladder.

these page 6 people
these new york social diary people
drive these costs up.
they pay the six dollars for coffee.
they pay the fifteen for a cocktail.
so nothing changes.
the prices just go up.

when a studio apartment costs $2,400 a month.
there is something wrong.
there shouldn't just be a cap on these things
for people who can't afford it
but for those who need a reality check.

maybe we'll be lucky enough
to go back in time
and scream
"greed is good"
i can't wait for that new york to come back.

.fly down to mexico.

rant?
so, living in manhattan, i've seen a few famous people or at least people who think they're famous and really just know for something stupid like being on America's Next Top Model. big success...weeee.

anyways, earlier this week i was walking next to Famke Janssen and her boston terrior (which was soooooo cute and really much more interesting). i loved her in eulogy but i sorta felt awful because here i am, like worn and tired from a long day at work and a size 10 and she's walking next to me thin and beautiful and twice my age. and she's walking her dog! not fair famous beautiful people!
actors and actress should only look good on screen but be normal people when you see them in real life.
no, they're beautiful in real life too. not fair. some of us are normal and...yeah.

and last night i was at a party with Rosario Dawson (i know, me! come on!) and she's so fucking pretty it made me sick. no. no. no. don't be beautiful, be average. it's not fair.
damn them!

so stop being beautiful. because, it makes me look bad.
(if you didn't get the irony in that last sentence, you shouldn't be reading this)

.in my life.

i saw the
sadest
thing the other day
on the
yes
subway....
a young
thin
nervous-looking woman
got on.
she had bruises
all over her arms
like someone
grabbed
her.
and looked like she had been pushed around a bit in her life.
she was reading
a romance novel.
falling into it.
falling in love with it.
and i thought that was so
sad.

.change.

i'm also
admittedly
scared
of next tuesday.
i know
nothing
will happen.
but i'm still...
nervous would be the best word.

.got to be some more.

from my moleskin,
written the other day,
during the
switchboard problem:

"of all the things
in
the world, i
wish
i wasn't
stuck
on the
C train
under the east river."

for the 30 minutes,
under water.
on the day i was already
late
and took
the wrong
train,
because i was late.

.cares.

dear astoria,
beware.
you're next.
you thought they'd stop at brooklyn?
sincerely,
me.

ps: i'm told astoria is in a magical place called queens, but i've never heard of it.

.new york.

observational fact:
people take cabs
at night
not because
it's dangerous
or scary
but because with the
MTA service changes
you have no idea
how
to get home.

why do i have to go to
brooklyn if i'm going uptown?
it doesn't make
any
sense.

what train?
on what track?
huh?

.i'm not impressed.

also
i think
strand bookstore
is
USELESS

unknowledgable
L-liners
with nothing better to do
then say
look in this/that section
(wave hand and look bored)

come on new york
this
is your alternative to
B&N?!?!

.somehow.

it's odd
how
you can
travel and travel
miles and miles
without ever seeing the
sky



a while ago:
i was picking up a print
for work
uptown
and i sat there on the 6
across from a couple
my age
they were quiet in
coversation
the man/boy
teared up
and it was obvious
the woman/girl
had said
i don't love you anymore.

my heart broke
right there
on the 6 uptown.

.for a long time.

something i wrote
a while ago
in my moleskin:

"one of the oddest sights i've ever seen is the 7 train coming slowly down the f track carrying the old graffitted cars down the track with cars of trahs cans with wta workers inside the old cars asleep after a long day and it was only 11:30, but it seemed so much later and it seemed so empty and it seemed so lonely. even though it was not. even though i was surrounded by people and students having a much better time that i much better than realizing the ??? in the old subway car travelling down the wrong track with people aslepe and trash inside. i do nothing."

the oddest part
was how beautiful it seemed.

.you've supported me.

finally
something to give
people
something to talk about
the weather
the flooding
the delays
the traffic
the subways
(or lack there of)
the walks
the heat
finally
i love talking about
the weather
interesting.
so interesting, eh?

so people,
stop talking about the weather.
stop throwing your
trash
in the tracks.
it clogs the drains
and floods the tracks
or it catches on fireand delays the train.
you fucking
pigs.

don't you
know
we can't get anywhere
on time
without
the subway.

something i always
knew.

i left early.
my commute takes me
to and from the only parts of
the island
that had running trains

i had time to
sit
and eat breakfast.

sorry?

.i know.

today was such a
new york
day.

it was hot
but not
sticky.

i had to go to cartier
for work
yes
had
to go.

on madison avenue
(not the fifth avenue one)
so i walked down
madison avenue
and looked in all the stores

no matter what my
morals are
jimmy choos are
pretty
so what?
i'm smart
and
i like
shoes.
shoes are awesome.
and pain you.

anyways
on madison
a guy
in an italian suit
on his bluetooth
walkin against the light
got hit by a car
screech
slam
he fell down
and then
got up
and
walked away.
we were shaken.
he
was not.

then i was walking back
to work.
and kids had broken open
a fire hydrant.
and were dancing
in the water.

then i walked
through
a movie set.
and there were trailors
everywhere
and people
everywhere
and i just wanted to get to work.

then i went home.
hi inky.

.they are a mess.

I long for
this
city
that I live in.

.and the pavements.

i can't concentrate
on
anything.

i've just been watching
south park
and
fucking around on
facebook.

at the end of the
day
i'm just so tired
and want my
mind
to go
blank.

i don't want to watch movies
(and i
always
want to watch movies)
or read
(although i
devoured deathly hollows in a
weekend.
there are rows
and rows
of people reading it on the subway
young
old
everyone, i recognize
that grey and yellow cover and jacket
so easily
stupid muggles who don't understand)

but i feel like shit.
like a blob.
and last week
was so great
and i keep thinking about it
instead of trying to be it
instead of living,
i'm replaying.

how frustrating.
stupid subway.

.i know your part will go fine.

I'm writing this at work (just 15 more minutes).
Quickly minimizing the screen every few moments.
But a word:

Fuck everyone who said or jokes about New Yorkers "over reacted" to the pipe exploding.
I wasn't there. I was in teh subway when it happened but imagine this.
You live in New York.
You're in midtown (which is already crowded and chaotic on a normal day).
You're near a train station when you hear an explosion and see smoke rising from the ground and debris everywhere.
You remember what that paranoid guy at the Department of Homeland Security said.
Yeah, you're going to panic.
You're going to freak out for awhile.
And someone had a heart attack and died.

It's okay to panic.

I was at a co-workers place in TriBeCa. You could see everything from the roof. The entire island. And you turned around and saw the cranes at the WTC site. And you see planes all the time flying by. And yeah, you don't go into some sort of panic, but its scary.
The terrorists didn't win if I get a little paranoid about a couple of things. They don't care. It happens. I get scared. I get scared by bugs when I see them but I don't think they've won against my life and are controlling me. I don't stand there and think, "I'm not going to let you win".
It runs away and I forget about it.

And that's life.
So shut the fuck up anyone who says New Yorkers were over-reacting, especially if they are non-New Yorkers. You have no idea.

.the subway is a porno.

What perfect timing
for this lyric
to
pop
up.

Yesterday morning
no one was on the subway
no one was in the stations
no one was talking
no one was reading
no one was drifting off

everyone
who was there
stood there, on guard

It was perfectly creepy.

.tom get your plane right on time.

So S&G will be my regular posts.
Because I don't always think in free verse.
Or whatever you call it.

So, I'm part of the working world. I go to work every day. I leave my apartment at 8:50 and my job starts at 9:30. I leave work at 5:30. I usually eat lunch at my desk finishing my work.

I have to take two local trains to get to work and then I walk several blocks. It's only two short trips. But I never get to sit down and I really don't have time to read. Which sucks. If it was one long trip, I could get a chapter at least. But I can't. I stand there. With strangers. And I never see the same people ever day. You think I would, but I don't.

We're all packed in like sardines. Standing there avoiding eye contact. Pretending not to notice each other. Pretending not to be uncomfortable. Especially not comfortable touching each other in ways that are so very wrong.

And I saw this woman who had to be at least 45 and she was gothed out. Dark black makeup, black nail/tow polish and all black clothing. I thought to myself, "Wow, aren't you too old for this?" and I didn't think about until today.

Are we (and know this is a really sophomoric things to talk about but I haven't lived it until now) supose to get old and start dressing in pant suits and in navy blue and black? Is that growing up....Are the people who "stick" to this acutally just aware of who they are and won't compromise? Or, of course, they could just be really delusional and have some serious mental issues.

I can't mock her. I secretly wish I could be like that but I also want to be posh and fabulous and people think amazingly of me, even though I'm not.

Um, I got distracted.....

.training myself not to care.

what
a
shit day

no
it wasn't
for the first time
in a long time
i woke up wide awake
and happy
and refreshed

and i went to work
happy
and refreshed

then i went to meet people
i'd never met before
but couldn't find them
because
i'd never met them

so i went to get on the train
F
and it never came
and the mta
person/thing/voice
was saying
something
that
no one
could understand

so i waited
and then just got on the
B
at least i think
which was packed
more than rush hour

with smelly
fat
gross
people
so smelly

and it took forever
and i had to get off
at grand
which is not fun
to say the least

and walked
after the
longest
smelliest ride ever

what did i do wrong?

.lonely nights.

remember
she said to herself
as she walked in the door

you'll be lonely
always,
no matter what city you are in.

.of spending these.

what a shit day
couldn't do anything
or anything right

i had intern tasks to do
copy
get
stuff
listen to my bosses talk about what was wrong about the position of my job
great
'cause i'm just an assistant
without pay

i was asked to go
make copies
of a book
at noon
but that i should do it
tomorrow
so i sat there
with something to do
tomorrow

i sat there
staring at the computer
pretending to do something
but i was really
reading/responding
to the same e-mail
over
and
over again.

then i was asked
to do something i'd never done
and i know i
fucked
it up
and people will come in tomorrow
and everyone will
know
i
fucked
up.
fuck.

.i'm sick.

so
yesterday
i was walking around
(can't remember where exactly)
and i saw Nole Marin
(which isn't that interesting at all)
(but who has a self indulgant myspace page where he claims to be 37)

and then i watched a man
walk out of store
with a sphinx cat
on a leash
with a camo-tank
with pink rhinestones.

why?

and it was oldly okay and crossed the street

.but.

I've also been having great luck.
Things appear.
Before I know I lost them.

I walked into a movie theatre,
going to watch a movie I didn't know if I wanted to see,
and playing, before the movie and previews
was one of my favorite
songs

One I never hear on the radio
or anywhere.

It's silly
I know.
But it's been a week
of that.

and it's made me smile.
for once.

.thought i knew which one to wear.

My first week.
Love my neighborhood.
Probably because I love bridges.
And I live underneath two.
Manhattan and Williamsburg

Both would take me to Brooklyn.

Which I don't mind anymore.
I don't mind the parts where people are real.
And just trying to make a living.
And don't care about being hip.

Save Coney Island.
Save the Mermaid Parade.
Missed the Baltimore gang.
Hon.

The city is amazingly well organized.
I guess thanks to Bloomberg?
No thanks to the people he hired.
It's going green.

We'll see.

.

to be
honest
i'm scared.

.i had seven faces.

these are things that are on my mind:
as i move to new york
which may seem silly to anyone who is "hip"
to it already.
i'm not.
i'm not hip.

i'm not living in williamsburg.
or bed-stuy.
or other poverty/gentrified areas.

i'm white and i have money, not that much, but i'm comfortable.
and i'll live with poor,
struggling to pay bills
and walk around in my
anthropologie
and
overpriced
american apparel
clothing.
no, i don't think so
and that's my problem with the "hip-ness" of brooklyn
or any neighborhood
they shouldn't be hip
they should a neighborhood
where people talk to each other
not where rich kids go to find things with
birds
and deers
silkscreened on them

no

i'm moving monday (and tuesday)
i hate moving
i hate it
i hate it
i hate it
it costs too much money to move cheap crap.

i never got around to that list
did i?

.the sky has changed.

finding an apartment in ny is ridiculous.
It makes me sick.
Brokers are assholes who aren't good at their job.

I have been living in a 1200+ sq/ft apartment for $616 (split from 1236).
I don't want a 15'x20' studio for $2500.
That's wrong.
Should be illegal.
They say I shouldn't think about it.
Fuck you "Christa" and "Joe".

I had been to NY three times before looking for a place.
I don't make 40-80x the rent. I'm from Baltimore.
No one does.
I have no "guarentor".

The apartments suck and no one thinks I'm "good enough" for their apartments.
I'm damn fine for your apartment.

I have a cat, it's a piece of furniture.
An ottoman.
Give me and Inky an apartment and we'll leave you alone.
I have no apartment.
Maybe on Monday I'll have an apartment when they're done checking my credit,
my fines
my accounts
my cards
my SS
my previous landlord
my friends
my family
etc.

.the only living girl in new york.

Typical. I know.
I stopped "blogging" ages ago because it was all so typical.
But I like being typical because I know I'm not and I know I am.

I'm moving to New York soon.
By July 3rd.
At the latest.
Where? I don't know.

My journey started ages ago.
But here's the start.
Here it is.
Intro. Begin.
Start life a new. As many have before me. Let's go to New York and without trying, hope that my life changes, that everything I wanted to be will be.
Of course. Makes all the sense in the world.

Except for native New Yorkers.
They hate me and I haven't even moved there.
When do you become a native New Yorker?

6 months? 1 year?
A lifetime. Some lyrics.
Bob Dylan was born in Minnesota.
But he was Jewish. Does that count for something?
Will that give me street cred?

End of intro. Outro. Exitrude. Etc.