Tuesday, May 30, 2006

summer in the city

man, it's hot today. it's nine and already i'm thinking about digging my airconditioner out of the bottom of my closet, where it lives, underneath my broken bicycle.

yesterday was memorial day. and i know the existential funk is a bit tired, or maybe meaningless, but sitting in the park with my friend lecy, talking about the neighborhood and thinking we might miss something, if we say, went on vacation? memorial day was fun. edie had a fun bbq.
then we went to the bar.
and the other bar.
and jimmy made me mac and cheese (which i forgot about until now) and still i woke up starving. and i tried to make tim learn from Whiskey; i said, "dude, i don't need a drink no matter how many people try to buy me one. i need a club soda."

should have gone to work. there it's boring too, but when i'm done being bored i have two hundred bucks or something.

Wednesday, May 24, 2006

today it's clear and cold in DOUBT

the sky is blue. the traffic is light into the tunnel but a beaten down school bus is having a time getting through the CASH lane.

i've been listening to "Call the doctor" for 36 hours straight.

But now I have to go to the post office and get some rat traps.

mice and rats! terrific!

which isn't really true. when i lived in the fancy place in soho i had mice, too.

tonight i saw the final downfall of the ghetto pad. it's funny to get older and to have each place be worst than the previous. i'm sure that's not how it's supposed to go. Yet here, with my fabulous view of the tunnel and my ants and the smell of rotting fruit from the chinese produce warehouse next door (don't even want to think of buying fruit from a shop between the battery tunnel, the BQE and rotting red hook, but someone is) now i have a mouse that is probably a rat and the whole place smells like old milk. i don't think it smelled like old milk before i saw the rat, just after.


Wednesday, May 10, 2006

Every Hedgehog Needs a Home

The cars crash into the battery tunnel all morning while i write. (Okay so write email. But it's just toning up those typing muscles. They're weak and rusty.) I wonder if half the cars in the greater New York area have dangling mufflers, or is that just the sound of bad supensions?