OMIGOD. I came home Monday night and found that the bathroom ceiling had collapsed, LITERALLY. Mounds of damp (and probably asbestos-laced) plaster, cement, and rotten, mildew-y wood filled the toilet and tub, and to top it off (unfortunately not the usual alcoholic's way), two little mice crawled out from the toilet and the rubbage.
BARF. Thank god for the shower at my gym.
The super tore a hole in the living room ceiling as well, so the living room has been un-live-able because all the furniture was pushed into a huge mass in the middle of the room.
Apparently the 6-pack of Pabst Blue Ribbon I left for the Super didn't do much good, as it still took them three days to repair and they left the walls unplastered so our apartment looks like the slums. At least they attempted to clean up the apartment before leaving every day, which is amazing given they left our apartment covered in plaster-shit the last time they tried to fix something.
The good news is I'm getting out of the ghetto and into a new building and apartment come September. YAY.
Monday, August 18, 2003
Thursday, August 14, 2003
Blackout
Getting Lit (5 pm-7:30 pm)
No power, no lights, no email, no work
All of a sudden, nothing to do…but get wasted.
Mass exodus down 9th Avenue, 23rd & 9th
We sit down for Round One
Coors Light, Bud Light, Corona, Sam Adams, Amstel Light
Double-fisting & smiles every round
Waitress Jamie, black bangs and electric blue eyes, keeps the beer flowing
”I’m sorry, was that a Bud or Coors Light?”
“Bud, but really, we’ll drink anything you give us.”
Round Two, Three, Four, Five
Waves of heat, car exhaust, stifling air, endless stream of pedestrians
Frustrated, sweaty pedestrian bums a smoke, ever so grateful, snaps our photo.
“Give me your business cards and I’ll send you a copy!” as she rejoins the crowds.
Only in New York
Ex-fraternity boy, bar manager “Tom” returns with shots all around
Then, “Sorry, we’re out of beer, we want to go home too, it IS a blackout!”
Getting Lit (7:30 pm-9:30 pm)
Perched, at the window sill, getting air, pedestrians on the move below
Peering, at incandescent glows in the windows
Looking, at a darkened lower Manhattan, a dark Jersey, a black Hudson River
“Just a little, tiny hit before we go.”
Hits from the one-hitter, more hits from the one-hitter, so much for just one hit
We connect, pause to regret, dismiss and connect again
Heat on top of heat, bodies adding to the still heat
Cold shower sprays into nose and eyes…caressing hair, cooling thighs
Kisses evolve, evolution into the inevitable
Shapes move, near open windows open onto darkness
Shapes move, to the sounds of nothing, except the occasional cab horn or pedestrian talking
West Side Highway (10 pm-11 am)
Out into the warm night, oddly unfamiliar streets
Treacherous crossing on the Hudson, headlights blind
Eerie flood lights, glaring and white, illuminate the crowds
They share a stony silence, muse at the moon, low and red
Night is still young
Block Party (11 pm-12 am)
On Leroy, between Bleeker and Carmine - parked SUV, dude & his bull dog, bumpin’ stereo, blarin’ beats
People dancing, drinking in the streets
Conveniently, corner bar proffer beer and bathroom for revelers
Party on the street, it’s a blackout!
Finding Friends (12 am-1 am)
Boy smokes with the boys, girl listens to girl chatter.
Boy keeps with the boys, girl lost in her own surrealist world
Unexpected and unlikely, yet strangely natural…these events of the blackout
Coming Home (1 am)
Round two, smoke and talk, to comfort the uncomfortable spaces, wipe away hesitations
Inching forward, teasing, caressing
Another cold shower, extraordinarily clean and delicious
Standing at the window, darkened windows are silent
Lying naked, staring at twinkling lights of Jersey (they have power!)
Looking down 8th Avenue, still dark
Feel the simple pleasures - airy room, draft of moist air, smooth skin
Sleep envelops contented souls
Eggs in a Cup
Awaken to a fresh dawn, sun pouring forth
Do we have power? Flip on bathroom light, nope
Silence still pervades, rich smells of bacon saturate, unconscious chatter during breakfast
Smile and part ways, reverie while walking home, in awe at life
All because of a blackout
No power, no lights, no email, no work
All of a sudden, nothing to do…but get wasted.
Mass exodus down 9th Avenue, 23rd & 9th
We sit down for Round One
Coors Light, Bud Light, Corona, Sam Adams, Amstel Light
Double-fisting & smiles every round
Waitress Jamie, black bangs and electric blue eyes, keeps the beer flowing
”I’m sorry, was that a Bud or Coors Light?”
“Bud, but really, we’ll drink anything you give us.”
Round Two, Three, Four, Five
Waves of heat, car exhaust, stifling air, endless stream of pedestrians
Frustrated, sweaty pedestrian bums a smoke, ever so grateful, snaps our photo.
“Give me your business cards and I’ll send you a copy!” as she rejoins the crowds.
Only in New York
Ex-fraternity boy, bar manager “Tom” returns with shots all around
Then, “Sorry, we’re out of beer, we want to go home too, it IS a blackout!”
Getting Lit (7:30 pm-9:30 pm)
Perched, at the window sill, getting air, pedestrians on the move below
Peering, at incandescent glows in the windows
Looking, at a darkened lower Manhattan, a dark Jersey, a black Hudson River
“Just a little, tiny hit before we go.”
Hits from the one-hitter, more hits from the one-hitter, so much for just one hit
We connect, pause to regret, dismiss and connect again
Heat on top of heat, bodies adding to the still heat
Cold shower sprays into nose and eyes…caressing hair, cooling thighs
Kisses evolve, evolution into the inevitable
Shapes move, near open windows open onto darkness
Shapes move, to the sounds of nothing, except the occasional cab horn or pedestrian talking
West Side Highway (10 pm-11 am)
Out into the warm night, oddly unfamiliar streets
Treacherous crossing on the Hudson, headlights blind
Eerie flood lights, glaring and white, illuminate the crowds
They share a stony silence, muse at the moon, low and red
Night is still young
Block Party (11 pm-12 am)
On Leroy, between Bleeker and Carmine - parked SUV, dude & his bull dog, bumpin’ stereo, blarin’ beats
People dancing, drinking in the streets
Conveniently, corner bar proffer beer and bathroom for revelers
Party on the street, it’s a blackout!
Finding Friends (12 am-1 am)
Boy smokes with the boys, girl listens to girl chatter.
Boy keeps with the boys, girl lost in her own surrealist world
Unexpected and unlikely, yet strangely natural…these events of the blackout
Coming Home (1 am)
Round two, smoke and talk, to comfort the uncomfortable spaces, wipe away hesitations
Inching forward, teasing, caressing
Another cold shower, extraordinarily clean and delicious
Standing at the window, darkened windows are silent
Lying naked, staring at twinkling lights of Jersey (they have power!)
Looking down 8th Avenue, still dark
Feel the simple pleasures - airy room, draft of moist air, smooth skin
Sleep envelops contented souls
Eggs in a Cup
Awaken to a fresh dawn, sun pouring forth
Do we have power? Flip on bathroom light, nope
Silence still pervades, rich smells of bacon saturate, unconscious chatter during breakfast
Smile and part ways, reverie while walking home, in awe at life
All because of a blackout
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