I am pretty much bi polar. It manifests itself in different ways, and because I am such an extreme personality, the hardest part is finding where I end, and the bi polar begins. I can alternate through 5 emotions every 15 minutes for a whole day. Its fucking exhausting, not just for me personally, but for the people around me. I guess that's why I tend to drink so much, or hide in my room. I get genuinely hateful sometimes. Even if I am happy all day long, it can take one thing to just flip my switch and turn me hateful. And I don't enjoy being mean, so I will just go and hide, and wait for it to go away. But now the closest thing to escaping I have is hiding behind a curtain. I knew this was the situation I was walking into, but sometimes it just drives me crazy.
I mean, its almost hilarious, because I think the biggest qualm for me is just not having a door. I didn't have a door until I was 17, and since then, I have always had a door. The door is almost as symbolic as it is physical. A way to close everything out, to trap what ever demon I am fighting with in. Not having one is a loss of control, and as someone who has worked very, very hard to have control of my life, losing that small piece of control pushes a button sometimes. I'm not even going to downplay this by calling it "silly" or "trivial", because to a bi polar person, those are exactly the things that fuck with your head, the minute or seemingly insignificant.
I guess its as close to jealousy as I allow myself to get. Wait, I take that back, now that I have reviewed the actual definition, I am not jealous at all. I am bitter. Which is of no surprise, since I am a self professed bitter person. I guess it just hurts my feelings to be bitter about the happiness of my best friends. I feel like an extra in my own house. I have arranged my space to be so beautiful and I like it, but the living room is two steps away and I can hear everything that goes on there. And the roomies pretty much hang out there all the time. Which is how it is supposed to be, if they were in their room all the time, I would probably complain about that shit. I need to get over the need to hide. Even though half the time I do it for the benefit of others as much as for myself. No one should have to see me or deal with me like this.
The worst part is that the people I live with, who love me, and do their god honest best to deal with the erratic creature that lives near the kitchen, probably don't even realize what sets me off, and I don't know how to explain it. Eh, but since they both read this, I guess they know now. They are happy, and they fucking deserve it. I guess I just can't envision such simple happiness like that for myself and it makes me bitter. We are a family, they have never treated me like anything else, even though I am a pain in the ass, but I feel like I am watching it all from outside an aquarium sometimes. Never alone, yet lonely all the time. And I don't want any of you to think this was a passive aggressive way of talking about it, I guess I just don't know how to deal with it myself, so how in the hell am I supposed to walk anyone else through it?
I feel like a fucking pussy sometimes because I know that sometimes I make people feel like they are on eggshells, because lord forbid somebody set me off. This is true at work and in other situations, and its ridiculous, who the fuck do I think I am?? I don't know. I have no idea.
What I do know is, right now I should be high on life with all these new and fortunate opportunities that have been bestowed on me, a great job, money, living in New York with my best friend... and I still feel like I walk around with this rain cloud like Charlie Brown, or more appropriately, Charlie Bronson. I think it was that cloud that I was running from, and I have run, literally, as far as the land would allow, and I am beginning to realize that this cloud is not above my head, it is in my head. How do you destroy your enemy, when it is, in fact yourself? I am closer to 30 than I am to 20 and if I don't figure it out, I will self destruct.
Even now, I feel guilt about saying this, because I have spent so much time assuring you all that I am great and fantastic, and for all intents and purposes, I am. I am safe, I am warm, I am fed, I have a nice apartment, good friends, nice clothes and a future. And I am also realizing that the reason transitions are so easy for me, is because I am detached. Nothing scares me, nothing shocks me, and nothing jars me. I thought that made me brave, but it doesn't. It makes me indifferent.... but I guess I will have to believe Bukowski when he says, "If you are losing your soul and you know it, then you've still got a soul left to lose..." And I hope that none of you worry too much about this, it wasn't my intent. It's just the natural progression into the brutal honesty that I think you all expected from me in the first place.
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
Friday, April 1, 2011
April Ain't Foolin' Me
I am so happy right now, I could just explode. At first, I must say I was a little jealous of the LA weather and the hot LA things I am missing, Doyer Opening Day, 90 degree bitching, etc... but then I had to stop and take a look at the big picture...
I got to sleep in today because I hired a very good friend of mine to cover me two days a week so I can actually get a day off. I mean, working 50 hours makes me feel all hardcore and all, but gimme a fucking break and a breath please, money ain't everything. So not only do I get days off, but I get to communicate with someone I had lost touch with for years. So "winning" on that move. I roll out of bed around noon and I'm already stoked, I have two "Missed Delivery" slips from the post office I have to go investigate, and I had only a slight idea of who they were from or where they came from. Nothing is better than mystery mail, and you all know it.
I check the weather remembering this huge crazy storm supposedly headed our way, forecast says light rain, 43 degrees, not so great, not so bad. I shower, bundle up and head out. Once you start walking, 43 degrees is not so cold and with a mist on your face it kinda makes you feel like a kid again, hopping and skipping with my scarf waving behind me. I get to the post office and find not one, but TWO packages waiting for me. I will not put on blast who they were from, not because its a secret, but because it was special. Either way, they came from LA and it was the best care package ever, all the things a Jackie could need. New skateboard trucks with NY approved street wheels, chelada mix, comics, stickers and shades. Lets not forget the little "homie". I was beaming like a light bulb, and that was just the beginning.
My roomies and I have complete opposite schedules, we never share a day off, they do, but we never get "family time". Until now. Thursday is the new Saturday. We had been planning for a week to hit up a store in SoHo/Chinatown called "Pearl River", Asian Import Extravaganza. Google that shit and you will see what I mean. Trinkets and toys and lanterns and candles and incense oh my! We wandered wide eyed around the aisles, oohing and aahing over ninja swords, tea light lanterns, 75 cent coconut milk, jade statues, jars, vases, and most important, tapestries and bead curtains. That was the goal of the mission. My room has no doors, which equals no privacy, which means when I sleep in my bed, its like being asleep in the middle of the kitchen. I sleep like the dead, but sometimes, the situation is just annoying.
I have been in my apartment for about a month 1/2 and at a loss as to how I was supposed to build privacy. Well, thanks to a little brainstorming with Sage and Pearl River, it all happened tonight. I bought 6 beaded curtains and 6 hanging tapestries and pretty much built a room out of that and twine. It is beautiful. I have never been more proud of handiwork. I put it together myself and now for the next 11 months, I am really home. This is probably the lamest and most boring blog I will write for the rest of the year. The point is, I was not sad about it not being 95 degrees, I stomped around the streets of NY in the rain and loved it, bought a bunch of beautiful shit for dirt cheap, created a livable space, and now I am going to bed, and I am completely content. If you know The Jackie, you know that is a rarity, I am just excited. I am sure in the next few days I will have some snarky, bitter story for everyone that will definitely be more entertaining.
And, thank every last damn one of you, because I am now over 1000 hits and that is just one more thing for me to be ecstatic about. Enjoy your sunshine LA. I do miss you, but I'm making ya proud..
I got to sleep in today because I hired a very good friend of mine to cover me two days a week so I can actually get a day off. I mean, working 50 hours makes me feel all hardcore and all, but gimme a fucking break and a breath please, money ain't everything. So not only do I get days off, but I get to communicate with someone I had lost touch with for years. So "winning" on that move. I roll out of bed around noon and I'm already stoked, I have two "Missed Delivery" slips from the post office I have to go investigate, and I had only a slight idea of who they were from or where they came from. Nothing is better than mystery mail, and you all know it.
I check the weather remembering this huge crazy storm supposedly headed our way, forecast says light rain, 43 degrees, not so great, not so bad. I shower, bundle up and head out. Once you start walking, 43 degrees is not so cold and with a mist on your face it kinda makes you feel like a kid again, hopping and skipping with my scarf waving behind me. I get to the post office and find not one, but TWO packages waiting for me. I will not put on blast who they were from, not because its a secret, but because it was special. Either way, they came from LA and it was the best care package ever, all the things a Jackie could need. New skateboard trucks with NY approved street wheels, chelada mix, comics, stickers and shades. Lets not forget the little "homie". I was beaming like a light bulb, and that was just the beginning.
My roomies and I have complete opposite schedules, we never share a day off, they do, but we never get "family time". Until now. Thursday is the new Saturday. We had been planning for a week to hit up a store in SoHo/Chinatown called "Pearl River", Asian Import Extravaganza. Google that shit and you will see what I mean. Trinkets and toys and lanterns and candles and incense oh my! We wandered wide eyed around the aisles, oohing and aahing over ninja swords, tea light lanterns, 75 cent coconut milk, jade statues, jars, vases, and most important, tapestries and bead curtains. That was the goal of the mission. My room has no doors, which equals no privacy, which means when I sleep in my bed, its like being asleep in the middle of the kitchen. I sleep like the dead, but sometimes, the situation is just annoying.
I have been in my apartment for about a month 1/2 and at a loss as to how I was supposed to build privacy. Well, thanks to a little brainstorming with Sage and Pearl River, it all happened tonight. I bought 6 beaded curtains and 6 hanging tapestries and pretty much built a room out of that and twine. It is beautiful. I have never been more proud of handiwork. I put it together myself and now for the next 11 months, I am really home. This is probably the lamest and most boring blog I will write for the rest of the year. The point is, I was not sad about it not being 95 degrees, I stomped around the streets of NY in the rain and loved it, bought a bunch of beautiful shit for dirt cheap, created a livable space, and now I am going to bed, and I am completely content. If you know The Jackie, you know that is a rarity, I am just excited. I am sure in the next few days I will have some snarky, bitter story for everyone that will definitely be more entertaining.
And, thank every last damn one of you, because I am now over 1000 hits and that is just one more thing for me to be ecstatic about. Enjoy your sunshine LA. I do miss you, but I'm making ya proud..
Friday, March 25, 2011
2 legs good, 4 legs bad.
I tried, and failed as a cat person/animal lover. We thought it would be a great idea to get a little creature to greet us and love us when we got home. Like we don't greet and love each other enough...so after a week of craigslist searching, our new little addition was found. A beautiful striped kitty by the name of Isabel, and I couldn't be more miserable. I have figured that a cat is one of those things that sounds good in theory, but is just really a horrible idea all together.
Now I am not talking shit about those of you who love cats and can manage to live in peace with them, I am just not one of those people. I knew it, deep down, but the thought of having a pet was so exciting, and with the building of our new little home, a pet just seemed like the next natural thing to happen. The strangest girl brought the cat to our apartment and me and Sage were just plain giddy with excitement. She removed the cat from the carrier, let it run and poke around in like the 3 places we didn't want it to, she left the cat with us and we did our happy dance. Yes, we have a happy a dance and you would melt with envy at our joy if you saw it. We wasted the happy dance because that cat didn't want shit to do with us.
Talk about anti-climactic. The cat ignored us for a few days, before it started pissing on Sage and Tyler's bed. So, first thing a cat can do to be an awful pet. Since they have the luxury of a door, they locked the cat out, so now Ground Zero for cat habitation is my bed. Which brings me to the second thing a cat can do to be the most awful housemate ever, sheds clumps and gobs of hair ALL OVER MY NEW BED!!!!! I had only been in possession of my bed for a damn week before this fucking obnoxious creature took it over. I am no monster, so I don't tell it to kick rocks, I let it sleep there at night, she nestles in between my legs. For being the least excited about animals in general, this cat cant get enough of The Jackie. I guess my animal magnetism is literal.
Now, cats usually just kinda chill, do a lot of napping. They are quiet, that's the whole point, but not this cat. Oh no. By 7 am she is "meow purrrrr meow pouncing". Even if you are reading this and barely know me, you know how I feel about mornings. Litter box scratching, meowing and jingle ball batting, NOT OK. She talks, she fucking talks, all day, every second. Unless shes asleep, in a fur pile, on my damn blankets. I may sound completely irrational, but I am allergic. I wake up with runny eyes, and a clogged nose. I wear black to work, where I sell food, so needless to say, cat hair. NOT OK. I go through 5 lint roller sheets before I can even sit on my bed. NOT OK. It took a few days of desperate texts to this strange cat lady who gave us the cat, but she finally got back to us and said she would take it back.
Now I am filled with equal parts relief, remorse and guilt. Since the cat is always on my bed, of course I bonded with it, its fucking cute, it likes me, and I have to be the asshole that firmly puts my foot down and says she has just got to go. If she could stop her constant fur flinging, I could learn to the live with the other stuff. But its just not gonna happen and the stress of waking up covered in creature fur is gonna drive me off the deep end. I have a pretty high tolerance for a lot of things, animal hair ranks at the very bottom. Even if I love the animal to pieces, just ask Mike. His dog B was the greatest dog in the history of dogs, and I would sometimes have to bounce from his house because I couldn't even cope with the hair. It's physiological, I am not an animal hating monster. Who am I trying to convince? Either way, I still feel bad. But whatever, I'll get over it, guilt goes away, allergies don't.
Now I am not talking shit about those of you who love cats and can manage to live in peace with them, I am just not one of those people. I knew it, deep down, but the thought of having a pet was so exciting, and with the building of our new little home, a pet just seemed like the next natural thing to happen. The strangest girl brought the cat to our apartment and me and Sage were just plain giddy with excitement. She removed the cat from the carrier, let it run and poke around in like the 3 places we didn't want it to, she left the cat with us and we did our happy dance. Yes, we have a happy a dance and you would melt with envy at our joy if you saw it. We wasted the happy dance because that cat didn't want shit to do with us.
Talk about anti-climactic. The cat ignored us for a few days, before it started pissing on Sage and Tyler's bed. So, first thing a cat can do to be an awful pet. Since they have the luxury of a door, they locked the cat out, so now Ground Zero for cat habitation is my bed. Which brings me to the second thing a cat can do to be the most awful housemate ever, sheds clumps and gobs of hair ALL OVER MY NEW BED!!!!! I had only been in possession of my bed for a damn week before this fucking obnoxious creature took it over. I am no monster, so I don't tell it to kick rocks, I let it sleep there at night, she nestles in between my legs. For being the least excited about animals in general, this cat cant get enough of The Jackie. I guess my animal magnetism is literal.
Now, cats usually just kinda chill, do a lot of napping. They are quiet, that's the whole point, but not this cat. Oh no. By 7 am she is "meow purrrrr meow pouncing". Even if you are reading this and barely know me, you know how I feel about mornings. Litter box scratching, meowing and jingle ball batting, NOT OK. She talks, she fucking talks, all day, every second. Unless shes asleep, in a fur pile, on my damn blankets. I may sound completely irrational, but I am allergic. I wake up with runny eyes, and a clogged nose. I wear black to work, where I sell food, so needless to say, cat hair. NOT OK. I go through 5 lint roller sheets before I can even sit on my bed. NOT OK. It took a few days of desperate texts to this strange cat lady who gave us the cat, but she finally got back to us and said she would take it back.
Now I am filled with equal parts relief, remorse and guilt. Since the cat is always on my bed, of course I bonded with it, its fucking cute, it likes me, and I have to be the asshole that firmly puts my foot down and says she has just got to go. If she could stop her constant fur flinging, I could learn to the live with the other stuff. But its just not gonna happen and the stress of waking up covered in creature fur is gonna drive me off the deep end. I have a pretty high tolerance for a lot of things, animal hair ranks at the very bottom. Even if I love the animal to pieces, just ask Mike. His dog B was the greatest dog in the history of dogs, and I would sometimes have to bounce from his house because I couldn't even cope with the hair. It's physiological, I am not an animal hating monster. Who am I trying to convince? Either way, I still feel bad. But whatever, I'll get over it, guilt goes away, allergies don't.
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
I know, I know...
Sorry for the hiatus folks, not being fully settled was messing with my head. Work, drink, sleep was all you guys missed last week. This weekend I had 2 really awesome dates, which is cool, because I don't think I've ever dated before, and in New York, everyone is dating, so I thought, "Why the hell not?". I'm single, 26, and I don't really know anyone, so meeting guys and letting em show you cool shit, not too shabby. Keeping track of all these guys, a little bit shabby. Not getting drunk and talking about one or the other, working on it. Not like any of them think they are the only one, and not like I have anything to hide, I guess I just don't know "The Rules of Dating", but I just keep picking up new ones on the way, and one or the other might get offended, and I like them all. They all couldn't be more different, and have different things to offer or points of view to see. I guess it can't hurt. And if any of you aforementioned "guys" is reading this, well then, I guess it answers some questions, and when I say I'm real, I mean it. So much so that I will publicly say it, and if you don't like it then, well, we should save ourselves some time.
In other news, I FINALLY got a bed yesterday, I spent more money than I care to think about, but now I have a real room. Minus doors. I have a bed, a dresser, mirror, yup, that pretty much constitutes a room for me. Somewhere to watch my Grey's Anatomy marathons, put my shoes and underwear. I don't ask for much. Now that I am more comfortable, I can go back to being productive. There's some big things in the works right now, I don't want to share it just yet because its that big, but if any of you ever worried about my future, you don't have to anymore.
It is so crazy that I have only been here for a little over a month, and I feel like I got off the plane feeling positive and at home. I never had an "adjustment" period, I just did the damn thing. And I still am. I have a job that I love, roommates who make me want to be a better person and who love me even though I'm not. I have this blog that you all have been so supportive of. I don't think I have ever been so happy, so much so, I almost feel guilty about it. I have so many good friends and such a great family, I feel like there is something wrong with me that I had to go so far away to get my head out of my ass. I know I needed it, and I know you all know I needed it, but I just can't help but feel that way. Missing my mom and grandparents makes my stomach hurt sometimes, but I still don't regret it. I guess that's what "growing up" is, which apparently I did accidentally.
It's working out for me, I've found the perfect balance of jackass and responsibility, so I will see how long I can keep it up for, because I am about to be up to the gills in responsibility. I can't wait to let the news out, I guess I am more scared than anything, not that it wont happen, but that it is for sure going to happen, and I just hope I can deal with it. I know I'm cocky, but, man, it is gonna be crazy. Well, I know I should be more consistent with this, and I know I also said I am going to work on writing about others more than myself, but, I've also spent a lot of years not worrying about myself, and this is a good healthy way to do it. Just stick with me, and we will see how this evolves. Plus, I'm broke this week, so I will probably be spending a lot more time at home on my computer...I am going to try and post a bunch of pictures, the new place, the new neighborhood...I think visual stimulation will definitely spice this blog up. It needs it!
In other news, I FINALLY got a bed yesterday, I spent more money than I care to think about, but now I have a real room. Minus doors. I have a bed, a dresser, mirror, yup, that pretty much constitutes a room for me. Somewhere to watch my Grey's Anatomy marathons, put my shoes and underwear. I don't ask for much. Now that I am more comfortable, I can go back to being productive. There's some big things in the works right now, I don't want to share it just yet because its that big, but if any of you ever worried about my future, you don't have to anymore.
It is so crazy that I have only been here for a little over a month, and I feel like I got off the plane feeling positive and at home. I never had an "adjustment" period, I just did the damn thing. And I still am. I have a job that I love, roommates who make me want to be a better person and who love me even though I'm not. I have this blog that you all have been so supportive of. I don't think I have ever been so happy, so much so, I almost feel guilty about it. I have so many good friends and such a great family, I feel like there is something wrong with me that I had to go so far away to get my head out of my ass. I know I needed it, and I know you all know I needed it, but I just can't help but feel that way. Missing my mom and grandparents makes my stomach hurt sometimes, but I still don't regret it. I guess that's what "growing up" is, which apparently I did accidentally.
It's working out for me, I've found the perfect balance of jackass and responsibility, so I will see how long I can keep it up for, because I am about to be up to the gills in responsibility. I can't wait to let the news out, I guess I am more scared than anything, not that it wont happen, but that it is for sure going to happen, and I just hope I can deal with it. I know I'm cocky, but, man, it is gonna be crazy. Well, I know I should be more consistent with this, and I know I also said I am going to work on writing about others more than myself, but, I've also spent a lot of years not worrying about myself, and this is a good healthy way to do it. Just stick with me, and we will see how this evolves. Plus, I'm broke this week, so I will probably be spending a lot more time at home on my computer...I am going to try and post a bunch of pictures, the new place, the new neighborhood...I think visual stimulation will definitely spice this blog up. It needs it!
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
NY vs. LA
When most people get to LA, the first thing I would hear is, "It's nothing like the movies." No shit. This city was built around movie studios, you know, sets, fake. When you see New York, it's EXACTLY like the movies. To quote Sage, "You can't make this shit up..".
The walking and the trains is what I think makes it the most real for me. Everything, no matter how minute; the laundromat, the bodega(say it with me, BO-DE-GA), it all has significance. I live 2 blocks from the projects, which I thought would be a bigger deal than it is. Same shit as everywhere else, don't make eye contact, carry about your business. Even though it is in an area that hipsters are slowly creeping in on, it is still mainly about the struggle.
I have mad respect for the skaters here. If you ever want to complain about the streets in HlP, think again. The streets here are sooo janky, and these crazy little hoodlums navigate these potholes like no other. It makes me want to skate even more, but I am super tentative about it. Like they said in Elf, "The yellow ones don't stop." And they don't.
I take the train 25 minutes everyday into the city, and let me tell you, its great. I loved my car, but riding the train affords a whole other luxury. The luxury of observation. On the train you have nothing to do but look at people. If you don't have a book, which I usually don't, I appreciate voyeurism. So many different types of people take this train. Especially since it's Brooklyn to Manhattan. You can literally be and act however you want, and no one even looks twice. Weirdos Paradise, let me tell you.
I realize this sounds completely NY bias..but shit. I live here, I better feel that way :)
Ok, there is a lot more, but right now, work and train taking are my main activities in life. Since I am barely, almost, stable, my new goal is pure observation. I'm about to focus on others problems, instead of my own, so its about to get real REAL...Transition with me folks. And I'm drunk... Mardi Gras everyone....
***Love to the homie's of their lost loved one***
The walking and the trains is what I think makes it the most real for me. Everything, no matter how minute; the laundromat, the bodega(say it with me, BO-DE-GA), it all has significance. I live 2 blocks from the projects, which I thought would be a bigger deal than it is. Same shit as everywhere else, don't make eye contact, carry about your business. Even though it is in an area that hipsters are slowly creeping in on, it is still mainly about the struggle.
I have mad respect for the skaters here. If you ever want to complain about the streets in HlP, think again. The streets here are sooo janky, and these crazy little hoodlums navigate these potholes like no other. It makes me want to skate even more, but I am super tentative about it. Like they said in Elf, "The yellow ones don't stop." And they don't.
I take the train 25 minutes everyday into the city, and let me tell you, its great. I loved my car, but riding the train affords a whole other luxury. The luxury of observation. On the train you have nothing to do but look at people. If you don't have a book, which I usually don't, I appreciate voyeurism. So many different types of people take this train. Especially since it's Brooklyn to Manhattan. You can literally be and act however you want, and no one even looks twice. Weirdos Paradise, let me tell you.
I realize this sounds completely NY bias..but shit. I live here, I better feel that way :)
Ok, there is a lot more, but right now, work and train taking are my main activities in life. Since I am barely, almost, stable, my new goal is pure observation. I'm about to focus on others problems, instead of my own, so its about to get real REAL...Transition with me folks. And I'm drunk... Mardi Gras everyone....
***Love to the homie's of their lost loved one***
Friday, March 4, 2011
The roof, the roof, the roof is on fire, and I'm pretty sure we need water...
It never fails, even on the most humdrum work day, something crazy has to happen. I hadn't blogged in the past few days because all I have been doing is working, not so interesting. Today started as every other day, me rolling around on my futon in the living room, partaking in my morning ritual. A silent temper tantrum about having to be awake at 9 am. I showered, put on my 10 layers of clothes and headed out into the beautiful, sunny 20 degree day.
I get to SoHo, stop by the bodega (say it with me now, bo-de-ga), grab 2 coffees and a bagel for me and my boss, arrive 10 minutes late as per usual and get this meat business cracking. It was our first real busy day. The people just poured in all lunch break. Me and the chef handled business, sold a million sandwiches. The day was busy but so peaceful. I'm going to attribute it to not having to hear the incessant ridiculous self obsessed chatter that pours out of my other co-workers mouth like vomit out of a bulimic girl. All in all, shit was great.
My job isn't particularly hard, but being on your feet for 10 hours takes its toll on anyone, so by 8:30, me, chef, and owner were done and ready to go. I go in the room where we keep our coats, grab my stuff and get ready to reapply my sweet vampy tip making lipstick when chef practically breaks the door down and starts telling me I need to get the fuck out and get outside. Pretty much, grab your shit and run. Outside I vaguely hear sirens, but still haven't figured out why I'm being rushed out.
Turns out all those sirens were heading towards the blazing fire 2 floors right next to and above the carvery. No shit. We rush out of our door right as the fire trucks are filling the tiny little one way street. I can't even believe it. This apartment is being engulfed, the flames are not merely licking out of the windows, it is causing them to explode, showering the 800 looky loo bystanders with glass and debris. As exciting as it is to see, its fucking tragic. There are people standing in the street in their pajamas, clutching their children and their pets.
Me, chef, and Bossman stand and watch in awe as water starts to shower out of the windows with such force, it actually hits the windows on the apartment across the street. The whole time we are looking at each other wondering if the other window air conditioner in the apartment is going to break loose and literally fall through the skylight of our humble little Carvery. Our door was unlocked and nothing could be done. The crew had it under control in about 25 to 30 minutes, but jeeze, for awhile, I thought the whole building was a goner.
The scariest thing about a fire in that part of New York is NOT just the fact that everything is old as hell, but its all connected. Multiple buildings are separated by nothing more than an address, and this particular building shared a damn address with the carvery. If the firemen lose control, it could be catastrophic, taking everything down around it, gutting the brick buildings. It just made me very conscience to the risks of this type of cramped city living conditions.
They got the fire under control, and we still have a job to go to in the morning. Either way, I have just resigned myself to the fact that I may never have a dull moment for the rest of my life. Which is good for my followers, but bad for my nerves. On the bright side though, it made me realize that roaches or not, at least I got to come home to my apartment tonight, and sit on my laptop and be safe. There is a family in SoHo who just lost everything, so I gotta appreciate my shit, no matter how shitty it is. Good night guys, and make sure to turn off your space heaters before you go to sleep....
I get to SoHo, stop by the bodega (say it with me now, bo-de-ga), grab 2 coffees and a bagel for me and my boss, arrive 10 minutes late as per usual and get this meat business cracking. It was our first real busy day. The people just poured in all lunch break. Me and the chef handled business, sold a million sandwiches. The day was busy but so peaceful. I'm going to attribute it to not having to hear the incessant ridiculous self obsessed chatter that pours out of my other co-workers mouth like vomit out of a bulimic girl. All in all, shit was great.
My job isn't particularly hard, but being on your feet for 10 hours takes its toll on anyone, so by 8:30, me, chef, and owner were done and ready to go. I go in the room where we keep our coats, grab my stuff and get ready to reapply my sweet vampy tip making lipstick when chef practically breaks the door down and starts telling me I need to get the fuck out and get outside. Pretty much, grab your shit and run. Outside I vaguely hear sirens, but still haven't figured out why I'm being rushed out.
Turns out all those sirens were heading towards the blazing fire 2 floors right next to and above the carvery. No shit. We rush out of our door right as the fire trucks are filling the tiny little one way street. I can't even believe it. This apartment is being engulfed, the flames are not merely licking out of the windows, it is causing them to explode, showering the 800 looky loo bystanders with glass and debris. As exciting as it is to see, its fucking tragic. There are people standing in the street in their pajamas, clutching their children and their pets.
Gotta give it up to NYFD for responding in seconds, and navigating through a sea of uncaring cab drivers, retarded ass bikers and one way streets. In less than 5 minutes there is about 15 firetrucks wrapped around the surrounding blocks. The fire is raging almost out of control, the window air conditioner crashes to the ground from 3 stories up in a hail of smoking embers and splintered wood. A fireman scales the ladder to gain access to the room. You can hear the flames crackling as they get bigger and bigger, eventually spreading to the apartment above. We are so close, we can feel the heat and hear the fireman axing the hell out of everything in their way.
Me, chef, and Bossman stand and watch in awe as water starts to shower out of the windows with such force, it actually hits the windows on the apartment across the street. The whole time we are looking at each other wondering if the other window air conditioner in the apartment is going to break loose and literally fall through the skylight of our humble little Carvery. Our door was unlocked and nothing could be done. The crew had it under control in about 25 to 30 minutes, but jeeze, for awhile, I thought the whole building was a goner.
The scariest thing about a fire in that part of New York is NOT just the fact that everything is old as hell, but its all connected. Multiple buildings are separated by nothing more than an address, and this particular building shared a damn address with the carvery. If the firemen lose control, it could be catastrophic, taking everything down around it, gutting the brick buildings. It just made me very conscience to the risks of this type of cramped city living conditions.
They got the fire under control, and we still have a job to go to in the morning. Either way, I have just resigned myself to the fact that I may never have a dull moment for the rest of my life. Which is good for my followers, but bad for my nerves. On the bright side though, it made me realize that roaches or not, at least I got to come home to my apartment tonight, and sit on my laptop and be safe. There is a family in SoHo who just lost everything, so I gotta appreciate my shit, no matter how shitty it is. Good night guys, and make sure to turn off your space heaters before you go to sleep....
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
Caulk Fest 2011
First things first, I worked 48 hours in 6 days last week, and the stress of not having my home was taking its toll on me. I actually got sent away early one day last week for being as pale white as my shirt. I used to average 13 hours of sleep a night in LA, I am now down to 4. The hustle is much more important than shut eye right now. My job is going well. But having to make decisions about someone else's business is a little bit tricky to say the least.
The chef that I work with is completely cool, a born and raised New Yorker. We are on the same page on pretty much everything, so he makes things really easy. My other coworker, is beautiful with a great heart, but just needs a little more guidance than any of us care to or can provide. As a follower of this blog, I apologize kid. My boss is a complete nutter, but in the most fantastic way possible. He trusts us with everything and it is actually a pleasure to work for him, even if it is a 10 hour day. we spend most of the day laughing and selling meat, I can't complain. And any of our differences aside, I believe we are forming a very strong team that will make this business a success.
I am somewhat happy to report that I am finally in my new apartment. It is good to have all my stuff in my own closet and to be able to wear a different outfit, as I have been wearing the same 5 for 2 weeks. Tough or not, I like to look good. But things are still pretty sketchy domestically. The gangster ass roaches I spoke of before are relentless. 3 bug bombs, 2 packs of roach traps, an exterminator and 2 lbs. of boric acid later, we are no longer afraid to sleep, but still a little weary of the kitchen.
This apartment is old as all hell and I am pretty sure not everyone in the complex is as vigilantly committed to the cause as we are, so it is as you would expect. It's a headache, but I am pretty sure in a few weeks time, we will be in charge in our own home. HAHA. Me and Sagey went on a caulk and Spackle frenzy today. There are so many cracks, crevices, nooks and cranny's and we devoted our whole day filling them with some form of latex or silicone. I also tackled the frightening feat of cleaning the stove, which was ground zero for the roach community.
The females that lived here before us hardly must have cleaned at all because that stove was a sight to behold. Cooked on egg, grease, crumbs, jeez bitches, grab a Clorox wipe every once in awhile will ya? I dove in industrial strength gloves first, armed with some 409 and the drive for total roach genocide. I scrubbed, I scoured, I sweat, and no roaches. After hours of crack filling and bleach soaking, we finally felt relaxed enough to put some contact paper on the shelves and our dishes in the cupboard.
Sage went back to the commune to get the last of her and Tyler's stuff, I handled some last touches, showered and headed to the laundromat for some 1 AM laundry action. I only have to walk 2 blocks, through the projects, and under a train overpass to get there, but I made it alive and rue the asshole that fucks with this girl and her clothes. Upon arriving home I spotted the first roach of the night...a little confused baby hanging out underneath my discarded sock in the bathroom. Then roaches 2, 3, 4 followed shortly after, right by the cupboard that I had so thoroughly tried to fix.
We will not lose hope, nothing is cured in a day, and I feel very confident that we are taking all the right steps, plus our very cool neighbors from across the hall said that the problem is manageable, we just need the upper hand. And I think we are almost there. Oh, and, the neighbors also hooked us up with the internet, so I will be able to be more consistent with the posts. And hope upon hope, tomorrow I will be able to relay some other stories not having to relate to offensive metropolitan insect infestations.
The chef that I work with is completely cool, a born and raised New Yorker. We are on the same page on pretty much everything, so he makes things really easy. My other coworker, is beautiful with a great heart, but just needs a little more guidance than any of us care to or can provide. As a follower of this blog, I apologize kid. My boss is a complete nutter, but in the most fantastic way possible. He trusts us with everything and it is actually a pleasure to work for him, even if it is a 10 hour day. we spend most of the day laughing and selling meat, I can't complain. And any of our differences aside, I believe we are forming a very strong team that will make this business a success.
I am somewhat happy to report that I am finally in my new apartment. It is good to have all my stuff in my own closet and to be able to wear a different outfit, as I have been wearing the same 5 for 2 weeks. Tough or not, I like to look good. But things are still pretty sketchy domestically. The gangster ass roaches I spoke of before are relentless. 3 bug bombs, 2 packs of roach traps, an exterminator and 2 lbs. of boric acid later, we are no longer afraid to sleep, but still a little weary of the kitchen.
This apartment is old as all hell and I am pretty sure not everyone in the complex is as vigilantly committed to the cause as we are, so it is as you would expect. It's a headache, but I am pretty sure in a few weeks time, we will be in charge in our own home. HAHA. Me and Sagey went on a caulk and Spackle frenzy today. There are so many cracks, crevices, nooks and cranny's and we devoted our whole day filling them with some form of latex or silicone. I also tackled the frightening feat of cleaning the stove, which was ground zero for the roach community.
The females that lived here before us hardly must have cleaned at all because that stove was a sight to behold. Cooked on egg, grease, crumbs, jeez bitches, grab a Clorox wipe every once in awhile will ya? I dove in industrial strength gloves first, armed with some 409 and the drive for total roach genocide. I scrubbed, I scoured, I sweat, and no roaches. After hours of crack filling and bleach soaking, we finally felt relaxed enough to put some contact paper on the shelves and our dishes in the cupboard.
We will not lose hope, nothing is cured in a day, and I feel very confident that we are taking all the right steps, plus our very cool neighbors from across the hall said that the problem is manageable, we just need the upper hand. And I think we are almost there. Oh, and, the neighbors also hooked us up with the internet, so I will be able to be more consistent with the posts. And hope upon hope, tomorrow I will be able to relay some other stories not having to relate to offensive metropolitan insect infestations.
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