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
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.
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.
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?
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.
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.
