23 March 2006

running in the shadow of the watchtower

things are looking up today, yes they are. even as dannyrichnet struggled to provide the infotainmentsupernetwork that is my lifeblood, i managed to contact basically everyone i know in new york who's involved with anything slightly related to what i want to do. even though not a single one of them has written back yet, i am optimistic. not that they will necessarily lead to anything, just that a single one of them will be in touch.

meanwhile, a couple good leads. barback in union square and working in a video production house. the second would probably be easier on both my back and my liver, but i'm a little tired of being cooped up with white walls and a computer screen. i think the fast-paced alcohol-fueled environment would be good for me.

my resume continues to develop the satin sheen of professionalism with words like initiatives, strategies, and explanations of how i simultaneously toilet trained ten children. all the parents out there, you can imagine how much shit i cleaned off the floor. folks, i was actually peed on. i apologized though, just like that sweet old man our vice president shot in the face -- i shouldn't have been browsing the lower shelves of the bathroom books. so it was really my fault.

i sat down this evening and read the listings in time out new york. i'm going to have a get a job real quick before i spend all my money on cultural enrichment. corners can be cut, however, and on friday afternoon, i'm heading to carnegie hall to get last minute $10 tix to the kronos quartet playing music about loss. sunday night the lead singer of antibalas afrobeat orchestra is playing for free in williamsburg -- if you live in the city and can go to a 10 pm sunday night show, it will be a danceteria serving up greasy beats and i will see you there. the options are endless, and i'll be keeping a close watch after missing a free appearance yesterday by my favorite san franciscan husband and wife duo mates of state.

this city continues to astound me, as should just about anywhere after only five days. hard to believe it's been such a short time. i went on my first run through brooklyn today, down along columbia through the literal industrial underbelly of brooklyn heights (remember the flying cat? my god that was hilarious). i went down to foot of the brooklyn bridge, which i guess would be called DUBBO for down under the brookyln bridge overpass, as long as we're making up real estate neighborhoods. can we call them falsehoods? oh let's.

so there i was, on the docks in the falsehood of DUBBO, alone on the windswept pier and watching the white chop of the east river. i stood there, marveled at the massive skyline, the tall ships at the piers and the drifting clouds above new jersey. when i headed back home i ran up the hill on the backside of the watchtower building. yes, that watchtower that you find mysteriously under your door or gently placed in your palm as you take a copy not because you're interested but because the person handing them out seems so sweet, so serene and comfortable in their knowledge of the impending apocalypse. or something, i've never read those things, have you?

water taxis crossed the gray expanse at lady liberty's feet. i ran back along the promenade. the forsythia is almost out, and there's this wonderful little and i'm sure multimillion dollar apartment on the promenade that has a yellow roof, and i remember last april when those bright far reaching flowers bloomed they reached up towards the roof as if embracing a family member at a reunion, as if they could extend through the wrought iron fences and climb the brick walls and go up and up and up.

my rhyme for the day: after a two and a half mile run, fourth floor walkups are just no fun!

tomorrow i start my attendant training at the yoga studio. sweet!

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