I was just coming back from going out with friends- we discovered a few of us happen to live within three blocks of eachother, and I walked home with a new comrade who just lives one block down from me. Halfway between my place and his, thirty yards before my place just after passing the square in front of the church, I hear footsteps behind me, shuffly ones. That doesn't surprise me initially, as my neighborhood is crazy busy until the bars close, it's a neighborhood very popular with the young folks.
But sadly, my lovely block, the one I profess to be the most picturesque in the east village with its stately brownstones, is also connected to St Marks Place, a cool historic church that has a public square that tends to attract people needing a place to sleep to its benches. So every once in a while my quiet street becomes a bit of a resting point for unusual characters. Really, I guess you could say that about any place in Manhattan.
Anyway, the shuffly steps quicken, and then all of a sudden someone grabs my arm. As I turn and look, there is the creepiest quiet, hissy "heey" that drips forth from this SUPER SCARY addicted-to-I-don't know-what-but-likely-just-about-everything creature. I would not described this individual as even a person, it was so sad and scary. Sallow-eyed, sores all over the mouth, thin lips and hunched over... she was like a creature out of one of Dante's circles of hell, or one of Ursula's screaming little shriveled worms in The Little Mermaid. Scared the living daylights out of me, I can't believe I didn't do anything but quicken my pace. The weird thing is that she kept following me as I fumbled for my keys... and did not find them. So I kept walking past my door... and so did she. I should have ducked in with the doorman next door, but was thinking I'd find them quickly... then I thought I'd duck in the late-night grocery, but it was already closed... so I ended up doing a full walk around the block, and it was only after getting halfway back around that I heard loud shrieking of "hey" a few times and no more shuffling. I crossed the trickle of a man peeing on the inside side of the sidewalk, turned the corner back around St Marks square with the few bench-sleepers, and made sure I had my key out well in advance the second time around.
I can say I did feel bad, like it was some Dickens-esque scene, me being like ew, don't touch my white coat, you scary underworld creature. I'm sure this woman just really needed help and was so incredibly out of it she couldn't have hurt me. Her tone seemed to convey that she thought I'd be her friend. But still... it was a scary sight. If that doesn't scare you into never doing drugs, I'm not sure what would.
Guess that's what you get for bragging about how safe and lovely and perfect your neighborhood is over late-night meat pies at Tuck Shop, you smug jerk.
Thursday, February 26, 2009
Monday, February 23, 2009
open it, steve
I don't have a t.v. and am a generally pop-culture-clueless individual, but I attended an Oscar party last night, the kind where you get humorously overdressed to drink champagne and make fun of yourselves while secretly feeling fabulous. And comment on people's style and lack thereof, for it's a good excuse to get in superficial jabs at the over-privileged and uber-image-conscious. And watch telelvision and eat junk food. It was good times, and I'll admit that though I'd only seen one and a half of the nominees (the One being Slumdog Millionaire, of course), there were some really great films out there this year... and Hugh Jackman did a surprisingly good job ("I'll rent The Reader"). I shall rent The Reader.
But best performance of the night: did anyone else catch "open it, steve!"? Somehow the curtain cue failed to work during the opening of the montage for Best Supporting Actress just as the stage manager's microphone was broadcast to America while the sheer drapes quivered in front of the screen, trying to simultaneously move both stage left and right. Pretty hilarious.
There were some very moving moments as well, however (the writer of Milk cheering for equal rights, Heath Ledger's family accepting his posthumous award, the earnesty and humility of the Slumdog winners, and "domo arigato, mr. roboto").
Though the industry of the screens is in general so very commercial, it's cool to be reminded of the artistry and genius that goes into it by seeing the individuals and elements that make it happen. An art a little different than my own, but not entirely... takes vision and long hours and patience with crazies in addition to a unique point of view and a good setting.
note to self- to see:
curious case of benjamin button
doubt
frost/nixon
the class
the visitor
milk
wall-e
toyland
manon on the asphalt
auf der strecke
la maison en petit cubes
rachel getting married
...and the duchess, as though I have no idea how great it really is, I am a total sucker for period pieces. give me costumes!!! give me heavy skirts, waistcoats, and people staring wistfully into the distance, heartbroken in arranged marriages and class stratification! give me long awkward silences broken by stilted accents and weeping into handkerchiefs. I eat it up.
That's right, boys, bring on the musicals and the costume dramas.
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
grumble
I'm a little grumpy.
Before I get into that, I just watched a really excellent movie, Quinceañera. Sundance winner, great characters and a beautifully developed story. Of course, as I am wont to do, I had to cry, and now maybe that's contributing to my little cloud.
But I rationalize everything... I think everything into the ground, which can be great and thorough, and can be excessive, needless stewing. I don't think it's just having cried at the movie that made me grumpy.
There are compound factors to said grumpiness. I am starting my period; and sadly, contrary to what I'd like to believe about stereotyping of genders, I turn into an unhappy, sometimes irrational being right before. We also had layoffs at our office again yesterday, which makes for a less-than joyous work environment, on top of me being on a significant deadline to finish construction documents for a playground I'm designing in Queens. Said schoolyard had some significant hiccups this week and I'm feeling a little drained from work. In addition to some completely demanding and loony personalities (still remaining) in my office.
I love what I do but here I am in Type-A New York, working till seven or later commonly because that's how it goes here. And that, frankly, is not very me... I want to do more than work and sleep in this town, goddamnit. I find I'm pretty darn West Coast inside, less stressed over life and wanting to go home at a reasonable hour. Apparently west-coasters talk slower, I've heard. And we certainly don't need a damn straw to drink a can of coke.
On another work-related note, I've begun the process of testing for licensure as a registered landscape architect. That's five tests, which I've decided to spread out slowly in order to study thoroughly. Oftentimes it feels like the process will span an eternity. I just moved here to this amazing city and signed up for years of studying. Boo.
I also haven't gotten a good vacation in a while. I'd say no true vacation for a couple years, and in this economic climate in the town of money-oriented wall-street worriers, and the fact that I'm still waiting for my moving-related expenses to even out, make me hesitant to cast worry aside and book a trip to the Yucatan or Croatia or the Mediterranean (see, I'm dreaming already) as I'd been hoping for. And travel is so goddamn cheap right now it's infuriating. Just a few hours across the Atlantic... I'm even considering going to Savannah, or the Keys for an extended weekend, just for a change. Less jet fuel to consume that way, too.
Part of me, the grin-and-bear-it, so many people have it worse in this world part, knows that I have it okay. This town is incredible. I may be occasionally going stir-crazy in wintry nyc in my closet-sized studio, but I have good things going for me. Even if I were laid off on Tuesday, so what, I have to find someone to take over my lease if I don't find another job, and I get to go back to Seattle? I've already discovered quite a few things that make Seattle irreplaceable since leaving there, aside from my beloved people. Life, I s'pose, will take us where it will.
On the other hand, though, this situation is a bitch. The world is modeling itself after american culture. Money-grubbing, I am entitled-to-anything, over-consuming, irresponsible america. Not the kind-to-thy-neighbor, optimistic, equal-opportunity america, that somehow did not rise to the surface. We have driven the world's systems, economy, and equity into a pit by feeling entitled to a life of luxury, entitled to have and do and go wherever and however. We have a world full of places, including the United States, where the division of resources and power is greater between the rich and the poor than it ever has been before. And now Indian and Egyptian and Chinese children model their ideals after this image of happiness and success. But no one growing up now, not even those of us who've already done most of our growing up, will really be able to live that way indefinitely- those who came before us, sadly our own parents' generation, have done a poor job thinking long-term.
As the next generation, we inherit a degraded earth, an exhausted economy and government, and not enough resources to share. We inherit the legacy of a hunger for the things that got us in this situation- giant hamburgers with piles of idaho fries, large stores and houses and the cushy individual vehicles to move us between them, and the airport that takes us on our company trips, or to grandma's house or the nearest sunny respite from all of the stress of the lives we've made for ourselves.
We are in the hole before we even start. We are a savvy generation, the first to be raised in the age of the internet and personal computer, a wealth of ingenuity, but we live hand-to-mouth with finances and aren't excelling at practicing temperance or thinking holistically so far. We will have to learn to drive the ship in totally different circumstances than those who came before us.
We have no idea what life or the world be like when the reigns are passed on to us, especially given the lack of stability in these times. I predict it will feel like rollerskating in a sandbox at times.
I'm still grumpy. Maybe even more so. That really wasn't effective therapy, but oh well, every reflection I have reminds me to appreciate and try and do right by what I do have, and have opportunities to impact. Keeps me getting up in the morning, and gives me direction. Just do the best you can every time.
Yeah, that's right.
Before I get into that, I just watched a really excellent movie, Quinceañera. Sundance winner, great characters and a beautifully developed story. Of course, as I am wont to do, I had to cry, and now maybe that's contributing to my little cloud.
But I rationalize everything... I think everything into the ground, which can be great and thorough, and can be excessive, needless stewing. I don't think it's just having cried at the movie that made me grumpy.
There are compound factors to said grumpiness. I am starting my period; and sadly, contrary to what I'd like to believe about stereotyping of genders, I turn into an unhappy, sometimes irrational being right before. We also had layoffs at our office again yesterday, which makes for a less-than joyous work environment, on top of me being on a significant deadline to finish construction documents for a playground I'm designing in Queens. Said schoolyard had some significant hiccups this week and I'm feeling a little drained from work. In addition to some completely demanding and loony personalities (still remaining) in my office.
I love what I do but here I am in Type-A New York, working till seven or later commonly because that's how it goes here. And that, frankly, is not very me... I want to do more than work and sleep in this town, goddamnit. I find I'm pretty darn West Coast inside, less stressed over life and wanting to go home at a reasonable hour. Apparently west-coasters talk slower, I've heard. And we certainly don't need a damn straw to drink a can of coke.
On another work-related note, I've begun the process of testing for licensure as a registered landscape architect. That's five tests, which I've decided to spread out slowly in order to study thoroughly. Oftentimes it feels like the process will span an eternity. I just moved here to this amazing city and signed up for years of studying. Boo.
I also haven't gotten a good vacation in a while. I'd say no true vacation for a couple years, and in this economic climate in the town of money-oriented wall-street worriers, and the fact that I'm still waiting for my moving-related expenses to even out, make me hesitant to cast worry aside and book a trip to the Yucatan or Croatia or the Mediterranean (see, I'm dreaming already) as I'd been hoping for. And travel is so goddamn cheap right now it's infuriating. Just a few hours across the Atlantic... I'm even considering going to Savannah, or the Keys for an extended weekend, just for a change. Less jet fuel to consume that way, too.
Part of me, the grin-and-bear-it, so many people have it worse in this world part, knows that I have it okay. This town is incredible. I may be occasionally going stir-crazy in wintry nyc in my closet-sized studio, but I have good things going for me. Even if I were laid off on Tuesday, so what, I have to find someone to take over my lease if I don't find another job, and I get to go back to Seattle? I've already discovered quite a few things that make Seattle irreplaceable since leaving there, aside from my beloved people. Life, I s'pose, will take us where it will.
On the other hand, though, this situation is a bitch. The world is modeling itself after american culture. Money-grubbing, I am entitled-to-anything, over-consuming, irresponsible america. Not the kind-to-thy-neighbor, optimistic, equal-opportunity america, that somehow did not rise to the surface. We have driven the world's systems, economy, and equity into a pit by feeling entitled to a life of luxury, entitled to have and do and go wherever and however. We have a world full of places, including the United States, where the division of resources and power is greater between the rich and the poor than it ever has been before. And now Indian and Egyptian and Chinese children model their ideals after this image of happiness and success. But no one growing up now, not even those of us who've already done most of our growing up, will really be able to live that way indefinitely- those who came before us, sadly our own parents' generation, have done a poor job thinking long-term.
As the next generation, we inherit a degraded earth, an exhausted economy and government, and not enough resources to share. We inherit the legacy of a hunger for the things that got us in this situation- giant hamburgers with piles of idaho fries, large stores and houses and the cushy individual vehicles to move us between them, and the airport that takes us on our company trips, or to grandma's house or the nearest sunny respite from all of the stress of the lives we've made for ourselves.
We are in the hole before we even start. We are a savvy generation, the first to be raised in the age of the internet and personal computer, a wealth of ingenuity, but we live hand-to-mouth with finances and aren't excelling at practicing temperance or thinking holistically so far. We will have to learn to drive the ship in totally different circumstances than those who came before us.
We have no idea what life or the world be like when the reigns are passed on to us, especially given the lack of stability in these times. I predict it will feel like rollerskating in a sandbox at times.
I'm still grumpy. Maybe even more so. That really wasn't effective therapy, but oh well, every reflection I have reminds me to appreciate and try and do right by what I do have, and have opportunities to impact. Keeps me getting up in the morning, and gives me direction. Just do the best you can every time.
Yeah, that's right.
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
cat photo booth
I am theoretically studying for my professional licensure exam. Note what I am actually doing at my computer.
the first image is cat no. 1; who took just a few tries to get a decent shot.
the following strip is cat no. 2; the many faces of a weasel. to her credit, some of them aren't great because I look like some cat-strangling creep.
to my credit, I fell asleep reading about architects' various forms of professional insurance and contractors' various required bonds the past two nights, and this is way more amusing.
what blows
layoffs.
layoffs totally blow.
we had our second round of layoffs today at my office, which stunned everyone. we had one round mid-december, and now laid off nearly as many people again. we've lost a third of our people in the past couple months and now I'll say that the recession is really affecting me. the people on either side of me have been let go and it's getting quiet in my corner.
we lost recent graduates and a seasoned senior associate; we lost much of our resort designers and quite a few foreigners on work visas. i'm sure it has been very hard for our principals but it's scary to be on the end that doesn't have any control, either.
so dear president obama, whatever the details of the agreement you signed today, may they be good and swift and affective and infuse the economy with many public works projects, because two months of backlog is pretty much nothing, and I might have an aneurism if we have to go through round three. i like it in this town and don't want to have to leave due to my office closing. thanks, e.
layoffs totally blow.
we had our second round of layoffs today at my office, which stunned everyone. we had one round mid-december, and now laid off nearly as many people again. we've lost a third of our people in the past couple months and now I'll say that the recession is really affecting me. the people on either side of me have been let go and it's getting quiet in my corner.
we lost recent graduates and a seasoned senior associate; we lost much of our resort designers and quite a few foreigners on work visas. i'm sure it has been very hard for our principals but it's scary to be on the end that doesn't have any control, either.
so dear president obama, whatever the details of the agreement you signed today, may they be good and swift and affective and infuse the economy with many public works projects, because two months of backlog is pretty much nothing, and I might have an aneurism if we have to go through round three. i like it in this town and don't want to have to leave due to my office closing. thanks, e.
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
crash
ironic that i.t. had to spend some q.t. at my desk today reinstalling a faulty adobe plug-in for me. hee hee.
Sunday, February 8, 2009
true story
I am not sure how it's possible for a nine-pound cat to incidentally pull a full-size hairdryer down from a shelf into a bathtub, attach the cord to her leg, and then pull it and herself out of the tub, and race across the house neurotically with it shackled to her like a ball and chain, but it just did happen. Right here, right now.
I genuinely would like to know, as I was innocently washing my face and had soap in my eyes. Really would have liked to have seen it. Next time.
I genuinely would like to know, as I was innocently washing my face and had soap in my eyes. Really would have liked to have seen it. Next time.
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
abstract city
I absolutely adore the work of Christoph Niemann. You may recognize his illustrations from New Yorker covers, but his monthly entry in his New York Times blog, Abstract City, is fantastic every time. This month's entry, "I LEGO NY," is awesome per usual.
I feel like my brain somewhat works similarly to his, in a comedic narrative fashion. The whimsical reflections of a displaced New Yorker are fun to relate to as they come out each month. Fun for someone learning the city to relate to. (yes, I am that person spying critters on the tracks, and that totally is the Flatiron!) So check it out (this entry and previous ones... they are great too), I hope you enjoy his blog as much as I do, New Yorker or no.
the pickle, the giant coffee, scallions (which on the west coast are simply called "green onions"), and the ugliness of madison square garden gave me an extra snicker as I've already had discussions about these quintessential NY things since my arrival here.
I feel like my brain somewhat works similarly to his, in a comedic narrative fashion. The whimsical reflections of a displaced New Yorker are fun to relate to as they come out each month. Fun for someone learning the city to relate to. (yes, I am that person spying critters on the tracks, and that totally is the Flatiron!) So check it out (this entry and previous ones... they are great too), I hope you enjoy his blog as much as I do, New Yorker or no.
the pickle, the giant coffee, scallions (which on the west coast are simply called "green onions"), and the ugliness of madison square garden gave me an extra snicker as I've already had discussions about these quintessential NY things since my arrival here.
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