The Wee Democracy

recap'n crunch

july 23

i'm sitting, currently, in leah's office around canal st, in my own private steam bath, courtesy of my damp clothes and overly active body heat factory. lesson one, not having an umbrella in NY is a bigger problem than not having one in texas, because you can't just run across streets willy nilly: you've got to look both ways before you cross. but, not to worry, numerous vendors surrounding that bastian of black market purses and shoddy palo shirts and helfiger tees are ready to sell you a functional umbrella for around two bucks. the bad news is...it's only worth about one buck.

and the subway doesn't help. man, it surprising how steamy that tunnel of rat love gets pre- and post-rain.

the last two days have been quite, as we say in the hood, chill. they feature me going to a movie (i'll sleep when i'm dead, featuring the always badass clive owen), walking around greenpoint, drinking beer in the almost-too-early afternoon, passing out, waking up and snagging what turns out to be the tastiest and greasiest chinese food in the history of grease.

i'm starting to fear a bit that i'm wasting my vacation with these simple days of one or two hour outings, and mostly a lot of tv watching and lounging. but then i remember that i've still got six full days until i leave and this was not meant to be a trip for sight seeing and tourism, but rather a retreat of sort, and a chance for me to get reacquainted with an old friend i like to call: me.

so not only am i doing this whole self exploration thing with the opportunity to carouse arount the kickest-ass city on the planet, but i've finally gotten to fully and lovingly scratch that chinese food itch that's been going strong for a few months now (editor's note: no such thing as fully scratching that itch - i still crave me the nectar of southeast asia)

oh yeah. my eye's all better. turns out it wasn't pink eye after all. just an allergy of some sort. my lid got all swollen and puffy (not very manly, i'll admit) but my eye never turned red or even mildly pink. see? i knew i was a man. eight years old, indeed.

i find myself fighting my baser instincts regarding the fear of returning home, and dealing with whatever stressors are going on there. i can spend my time here searching for the ladies and for great rice, but i'll be damned if i'm gonna spend it worrying about being uninsured, or aimless in the job front. damned, i say.



feeling: cooler
thinking of: release
song of the day: baby blue sedan - modest mouse
(editor's note - this is today's actual song of the day, too -- 8/3/04, and therefore not exempt from the rules governing lyrical inclusion and so....
and its hard to be a human being, and its harder as anything else, and i'm lonesome when you're around but i'm never lonesome when i'm by myself)