Here, I am. Right now, I am at Niki's apartment in Red Hook watching Cassidy repair his bike, and in a short hour or so, I will be on my way to Williamsburg with Cassidy to look at a two bedroom apartment two blocks away from the Lorimer stop for only 990. I have already looked at it once. The ceilings are only about seven feet high, not very good for dance parties, it is a semi-basement aparment. But it's a skip away from bars, diners, and beautiful bridges, and little Latino men selling shaved ice out of carts. It also has a backyard, and whatever lack of sunlight it might have can be remedied with lots of funky lamps, with green plants. In retrospect, I am in love with the apartments. When I looked at it, I was rather unexcited by it, but now I am coloring it in better. I want to make it mine, to tell the landlord today that I want it, that I will sign a check today, now, give me keys. But, since it is the only apartment I have looked at it, I am deciding to get a second opinion, a more neutral observer and so Cassidy will be coming along to tell me that it is either a piece of shit, or that I should get it quick before someone else does. I might live in it with Niki, if she ever looks at it, and if her roommates consent to her leaving this place, otherwise, I am just going to post a listing on Craigslist and find that rocking roommate.
But, let's see, did I mention, I am in New York? Yesterday, I was waiting at the Smith and 9th platform and saw clearly the Statue of Liberty in a halo of fog. Little sightings like this of known landmarks make me laugh, like you do when you hold up a bank and manage to get away, a laugh of shit, how did we not get caught? Free! And I sat on the bench curled in a fit of laughter at the Statue of Liberty, at the fact that for some reason I am here in New York.
I have still yet to suck any cocks. Being a slut seemed like a fun idea, was the intention, but there is still time. I just need to find someone to rock the gay bars with me. Last night, wandering around the East Village after downing free Buds like it was the end times at a Wrap party for a film Ramsey worked on, I wandered from bar to bar with Ramsey and his film crew, with this one girl, Marcia, who still makes me laugh today. Last night was nothing but a fit of giggles because we went into one lame bar, led there by Ramsey, left shortly thereafter, and an incredulous Marcia for the rest of the night kept saying, "You take us to a bar where there are guys from Jersey eating take-out Chinese food?" "Jersey" and "Chinese food" repeated over and over in mock outrage tones may be the funniest two words that a girl with a Spanish accent can say, maybe that anyone can say.
And because it is a small world, while bar-hopping, I ran into New College kids - Dara, Rob, and Chris Mitchell and a boy they were dragging around that they called Beck and looked eerily like him. I love life! I love running into people I know! So now, I am going to go out and do some serious ass-shaking with Alisdair and Dara soon.
In other exciting news, I talked to a really cool gay boy on the subway last night, riding home drunk as hell and full of french fries - but that's not the excitement. The excitement is some thug sitting across the train started talking shit, saying not to look in his direction. And I talked shit back and laughed in his face, and he came up in my face, and preteneded like he was about to pull out a gun, and I laughed and told him "What?" Thinking to myself: What?, you stupid asshole, take your macho posturing elsewhere, I am here in this city and I am going to have as much fun as possible, so please shut your stupid mouth, use it for making out or something other that being a wannabe thug. And he didn't do jack shit, but said that he was going to, and I laughed and laughed my way off the train, happy with life, laughing at all of it. The robbery went off without a hitch, I kept on turning to look out the back window to see if cops were following, and they weren't, they aren't, some how, some fucking how, we managed to get away with it.