here's a rare treat for you all. i finally got internet so that i could post these.
by the way. i have no way of getting a hold of you. i don't have yous number. happy birthday andrea r. (way back early may).
new york, new york. first few days have been quite eventful, even without the influence of alcohol. most of my time here has been spent checking out the hip-hopless underground scene. i’m speaking of transfers, wrong directions and countless swipes of the metrocard. i have been trying to familiarize myself with the subway system, specifically my route to work (D line to W4 transfer to F to 14 transfer to L to 14/USQ… cryptic? not really. just check out the MTA subway map online and you can track JD’s movements as if it was a reality show.)
aside: anyone remember if the period goes before or after the closed parenthesis?
first day: hanging out at the Y since it was only $45/night and was graced with a visit. nap-time, a little confusion and the word "mildly retarded" was thrown into the air to be caught by someone. it was great and worked out beautifully because the false-anger helped. indian food for dinner and a good-bye hug near the rite aid. then it was a five-hour transition session between the Y and the new joint. some writers entertain the use of euphemisms that some, but not all, can refer to and only if the topic has been stumbled upon by the reader ("got more action than caligula"). my writing, on the other hand, is just down right confusing and clandestine with meaning only to me. i did make a trite comment to one reader that sometimes my writing was written while under the influence and that when sobriety ruins the fun, i re-read and only can decipher with the help of the rosetta stone. sometimes, that stone tablet doesn’t even help and my thoughts are lost in my own thoughts ("wtf?!").
i digress: i only wanted to casually explain how only i would probably be the only one to understand what my "five-hour transition session" would mean (this isn’t even one of the more confusing non-explanations). if you happen to understand, my undivided and undiluted (e)prop/s to you.
the five-hour transition process was evil. definately evil, since it was encapsulated in one instance where, as i assumed it to be a mother-and-son dialogue in which the son responds to the mom's request with an "i hate sitting next to you. you're evil" to "come sit here next to me". hot damn, someone give sammy sosa one of those greek paddles comeplete with holes for aerodynamical properties and have him swing at this kid's disrespectful ass. the sad part was, i saw the pitiful expression on the son's face and the "screw you, hippie" look the mother was giving her son that lead me to believe that the mother had as much to do with her son's disdain as the son himself.
with the trip beginning around 630PM, it finally concluded at midnight. ny's dynamicism was definately hampered by it's necessity for non-personalized public transportation. i was parched, exhausted and cold.
here's goes one of my world famous lists:
-a freaking cold night with no blanket (fri night)
-no ups delivery, thus no clothes, no towel, no blanket, no toothpaste (but good thing she bought me a travel-size tube)
-the shark, the iron and the down blanket (sat)
-eight vacuums worth of dirt (sat)
-how the hell do you turn this accordian heater on? (fri night)
-gators win (and ohio will lose) (sat night)
-three shirts from hnm, another lime to match the charcoal (sat night)
-internetless, newest minority-who-works-at-wellcare to own a brooklyn library card (sat)
second day (friday) and possible saturday:
i finally moved into my new apartment friday morning. the gracious roommate took me around brooklyn to show me where the shops where (home depot, pathmark and linens and things). most of friday was definately spent underground, where brooklyn to bronx was a good two hours. easily comparable to tampa to orlando (anyone remember the days i use to make this trip weekly because of a psycho chick?-- no? i'm glad no one does!!) after making copies of keys, i made my way back to the apartment which what would have been a two-mile walk but thank buddah, ganesh and God that there are buses. tested the keys, made sure they turned. they turned, but were sticky. i then made my way to chase to open a local bank account in which the silly asians working there just seemed to overlook me. i was getting slightly annoyed and the new chip on my shoulder let me exhude some loud, audible sighs. the silly asian lady took notice and tried her best to keep me in the loop. i was running late for a packing date so i politely told the craz... silly asian that i was running late and would return the following day.
b to bx, here's the two-hour train transfer part. it's funny-- as i'm telling this story i'm also listening to the fugees' the score track 11 where the line "forget john wayne, i shot the sherrif". well, when i was assisting in the packing and the packer took a break to shower, the sheriff attacked me with a sharpness that i pretended not to notice and a judged look that normally would piss me off, but i wouldn't give the sheriff any satisfaction. it's a little weird and definately counter-productive. packing came and went so fast you'd say it was quick/ie.
the packer packed and i sent the packer along. it was about 530PM and i believe that this was the day when the five-hour transition fiasco happened (see above). for the life of me, i can't remember when it took place. unimportant.
went shopping and purchased the following:
-a tfal iron
-the shark vacuum that was small enough for david the gnome to effectively use in his little gnome-house.
-more f___ing hangers. i left about 70 hangers in tampa because they were too oddly-shaped to pack.
-bed sheets
-a pillow
-laundry bag
and the best (survivally-speaking in terms of extreme discomfort) purchase: a down feather blanket!! <-- i was really excited that i decided to show my euphoria with two exclamation points. no more freaking cold nights for jd.
and the shark vacuum kicks ass/arse/okole! (marke: did i spell that correctly?)
sunday: church and cleaning up.
when a coworker left PC to "double-back", i was notified that the paycheck was pro-rated (pro-rated = coworker was hated). when i left PC, no proration but an extra 40ish- hours. damn, that led to an extra one-billion dollars (see below regarding 40 oz.)
pre-ny at the PC:
-cashed out with the vacation days (extra 40 oz that came from a definate unkown source, even after my additional seven days)
-drinks to last until departure
-10AM bloody mary's
-350 pounds worth of clothes in the form of eight boxes shipped ahead (245 lbs), two check-ins (98 lbs) and two carry-ons (7 lbs)
-(insert own comment here)
good night, adeu.
