Born in New York and now going to die in New York. Someday.
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Now That I'm Forty...
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Thursday, January 08, 2004
Hmm, So Now, Why Do I Want To Be INSIDE, Blogging, If I Finally Live In NYC
Good question! Guess that'll help limit my run-on paragraphs.
Actually, I'm a little sad to find that a lot of my time is being spent commuting. It isn't that I hadn't realized I'd be on trains 4 hrs a day. it's that I hadn't realized those were hours I'd not be loose in my city, grooving with my buds.
And can I tell you, I have not mastered the art of calling people for idle conversation. Every time I feel a little distant and want to pick the phone up, I imagine the person on the other end thinking, "Urgh! What does this idiot want NOW???" I think that's because I may be thinking such horrible thoughts when I answer the phone.
I worry too much about shtuff. I need to get over it.
Hence I blog.
Me at 1/08/2004 09:48:00 PM
Yay, Diversity!
On my floor there is an Asian girl. In the apartment across from mine, in the next building, is a Caucasian girl just moving in (who evidently works as late as I do because she's hammering on her walls even now and has been doing so for the past four nights, making some of my first nights a tad unpleasant). Last night a tall white guy in decent clothes got off at my stop, and this was at about 10:30p. There was another white guy in a clutch of black guys on a corner down the hill, all laughing loud and being generally streety (think Eminem with red hair).
Me at 1/08/2004 12:57:00 AM
On Dying, Part IV
Night before last, a few cops and some medical examiners took a dead body out from an address a few doors down from my building. I went to the store, noticed the inert patrolcar and Medical Examiner's black van parked in the street. There was a small crowd of street regulars (more on them later), but no big fuss. When I returned from the store, no one else was on the street and the police officer was bringing out a clear plastic bag containing rolls of dollar bills. Big rolls. Just after her were two technicians with a gurney. On the gurney was the black zipped up bodybag.
Everyone I've told this to so far has freaked and asked me if I regret coming here. Strangely, still no. The death looked drug-related. The patrol car was singular and there wasn't a lot of activity or attention, nor blaring sirens, so I figured it was an overdose rather than an execution. Sad, but I don't feel I have to worry about that particular spectre. I'm squeeky clean.
But it sure was different than a squirrel.
Me at 1/08/2004 12:48:00 AM
Dang, now THAT was easy!
Uh, yeah, but I mean the internet re-connect. I practically winged it and used some things this time around that I hadn't used last time.
So, here I am back in NYC!
I've had a few adventures already and it killed me not to be able to blog it imediately. Most of them are occurring on the subway. Everyday, I'd like to point out at least one interesting person, just because. Tonight I overheard a small, nebbishy, spiky-haired actor telling his out-of-town visiting friends about how many beer commercials he's been in so far, and how he was one of the writers on "Charmed". Mildly amusing. I might bump into him again since he departed the train up near my stop.
Oh, that's right, I forgot to mention--I'm the Prince of All Starstruck People. This usually earns hoots and derision from my friends, but I bet none of them would ignore Jennifer Aniston if she backed into them accidentally and mistook them for Brad.
More adventures to come...
Me at 1/08/2004 12:38:00 AM
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