September 24th, 2001

(no subject)

Donnabert says,

"You are the most selfish individual I've ever seen in my life. Boo hoo,
poor you. You're asking for money too? When so many people died?
G-frend, yr karma is in the toilet."

You obviously dont know me. And what exactly does me asking for money have to do with the people that died? Does it make me feel for them less? Does it make me acknowledge the horror of the tragedy and how it has changed our world any less? I dont think so. In fact it inspires me to continue on with my life and make every second count. I may not have many more of them. I cannot help the fact that right about the time I need need financial support some asshole flew a plane into the WTC. You suggest some other way that I can scrape together dollars to work on a project that means the world to me, and im all ears.

(no subject)

btw: lots of new videos up on the site! i know the pics are screwy and corrupted, and theres jibberish on the pages. Sorry about that!

Friday

I packed the cini-roll in my bag, but it didnt get eaten for many hours. Instead, I met my friend Bob from Jersey out in front of my building. Poor sick thing! Was sooooo ill. I told him he shouldnt have come, especially since he had to work at 7am the next day. He was mega cheerful though and proceeded to give me a huge bear hug and explain how he didnt want me to think he was avoiding me, using sickness as an excuse. I offered to buy him drugs, but he insisted on dealing with the sniffles au natural.
The boy still hasnt grown out of the raver era quite yet, sporting a t-shirt and large pants. Shaggy hair and a little blonde goatee. He and Jessica (from New ORleans)must have made a lively couple. The first thing that needed to happen was a trip back to kinkos. I was obsessed with uploading all the Jpegs to my website. As you know, though, from all the holes and corruptness and jibberish, i wasn not successful. i could even load up the pics in photoshop, but they just were not emailing!! i was frustrated and after 45 minutes, or so, Bob started to grow restless and I was not answering his 100 questions about everything while uploading cause i was so frustrated. I said much profanity and we took off for dinner. Chez Bernard of course. The waitress Sandra was happy to see me back. She asked about Adam and mentioned that Bernard was selling the restaurant. I was sooo sad, and Bob shared the sentiment. He was enjoying the quaintness in the middle of Soho. I had my usual goatcheese salad, and he ordered th monkfish. Sandra recommended the most wonderful, light red wine for the meal. Of course, I cant remember what it was, but it went perfectly with everything, even if i was having just a salad. The wine did go right to my head and I didnt even realize that 3 hours had passed by, sitting there talking. "Is this a date?" Bob asks. His blue eyes were playful through the sickness. I told him i suppose it could be so. We left it there.
It was finally time to leave. Here I am thinking im directing us uptown, (I even accidentally directed some poor man in the wrong direction towards Spring St. while munching on that cini-roll) when all of a sudden...hmm smoke. Hmmm, police. Wait...thats a mangled building! Holy crap, thats the WTC..or whats left of it. We were right there, behind the barricades. You could see the whole thing...smoke, people lifting up rubble. The horrible smell of burnt dead and planes and terror. Awful awful. And the worst thing was, there were tons of people standing around video taping! Some were pointing in not quite unhappy wonder. I couldnt believe it! The scene was just a billion times worse that watching it on TV...not so much the pictures, but the livemess..the mood. Overwhelming and appauling! I was carrying my camera with me, but there was no way in hell id ever tape that. (Better pics on Tv, if nothing else!) This just was not a tourist event. This was a tragedy. Not a place of wonder. Not somewhere to walk your dog. UGha! I felt like slapping the cameras out of peoples hands. We were standing, looking at the twisted wall, and I scoped to my left to see a familiar face: Pablo from RMD. He was strapped into a back brace. "Ive been working on 12 hour shifts, volunteering. Frank let me have a week's leave to help out" I was very impressed and this cheered my mood and distracted me from the tragedy tourists. His face was tired and depressed, but he managed to smile.
We found a subway uptown to 34th street, where Bob could catch his train to Jersey. I was apologizing for the trek taking so long, and even more about ending up near the WTC. What an accident! We just made it just in time for his train...otherwise he'd have been sitting at the station until 5:30 am. We went outside so he could smoke a quick cigarette. He asked me to call and I said I would. And I will. As a friend.

I found the A train home. So tired. Fell asleep on the train to wake up one stop before mine. Thank goodness! What an adrenaline rush to think you missed your stop and now you will have to wait for yet another train to get back at 3am. The bus came after only a 5 minutes wait. I passed out less than 10 minutes after I stepped into my apartment.

Saturday, part 1

I awoke with a leap of my heart. What time was it? Was I late for work? My alarm didnt go off, shit! Wait, its Saturday. Oh lovely saturday, i want to be in your arms all the rest of the week so. I fell back asleep.

10:30 AM
Ok, ok, im getting up. Today I was going to be productive. I hauled all my laundry down the 2 blocks to the laundromat. A big thing for me, since I hadt gotten to it the past 3 weeks! (Yuck!) Took the bus into Downtown brooklyn and bought a rat for the snake and crickets for the lizards. Good, animals fed for a few days. Got distraced by this hot woman in a picture on the door of the extension hair supply store. Decided I needed black or red braids at some point. Resisted some point being NOW, due to financial issues. Came back to recover my laundry from the public dryers. Seemed like all the underwear was there. Fed the pets. Downloaded video off the camera. Encoded confessions. I was accomplishing things today. Rad. I was to go meet up with Stacy later to check out some apartment in Ft. Greene. I have a feeling she has already written a ton on this in her livejournal. Bob Harmon was late in meeting us. We sat on the steps, peering into the building that we were considering to make our home. Where was he? Almost 7:30. He shows and apologizes. Takes us into this Victorian red velvet french deco office. We gawk at the walls and the layout. Upstairs to the top floor. The apartment has a dishwasher. A larger kitchen. electrical outlets. Im happy. We want a differnet apartment, but this would do. Downstairs to fill out an application. All seemed to be going normal. Suddenly, the interview gets wierd. I think he looked at us in our alternaive glory and assumed the worst. As he went on, obviously degrading us in his head, his accusations-posed-as-questions became more beligerant. you have a snake? do you realize that babies could die? I might have a rent-strike! What would I do then? New Yorkers are particular (im thinkingyes..YOU Are particular!) What kind of snake..does it roam free? I think he thought I was lying about the breed and size and everything. He wasnt really listening. He asks...what kind of friends do you have? (What do you mean?) He turns to Stacy "Tell me what you REALLY think of her friends, right in front of Lisa. She needs to hear this" (WHAT AN ASSHOLE!) Stacy smiles and give my friends props. She just met several of them the weekend before. Bob Harmon continues to question my "Friends" and starts hinting about them coming in at all hours...and some "lifestyle problems" he foresaw. I swear he thought I was a prostitute. The questions he was asking!! Im not kidding. We were aggravated but I dont think either one of us could figure out a way to squirm out of there, so we were stuck. Finally stacy spoke up about his treatment of us. "Im a 30 year old woman and you are sitting here accusing me of things that other renters did to you. Im not 5!" NOt her exact words, but basically that. I dont think it phased Bob Harmon. He was a dick. Finally, the deposit $$ came up. We didnt have enough. The interview was over. Stacy ran out of there. I thanked Bob for the time, ven if it did suck...she grunted at me. I ran outta there too. Stacy was on the sidewalk holding her head. We were both appauled and freaked out. I was sorta laughing. I wished I could have gotten the whole thing on camera (you know me!). We parted. I took the train to Wil's place Carroll Gardens, and decided I need a very large amount of ICe cream to cool my nerves. Bought Cherry Garcia and proceeded to down most if it at Wil's place, along with several glasses of red wine.
(to be continued...)

a little more about saturday.

i have to run to see an apartment at 6:15. However, i will write just a little more

...

All my buddies were there. Cooking tofu burgers. We drank. Sang songs, talked about the new cutie boy in the group...(danger wil robinson!)
and i have that all on video tape. (now that i can mail that to NOX, it might get up in a timely manner!) IT all a blur, really. At some point in the evening though, we decided to go out. First it was to search for beers to bring back, but we ran by that bar at Smith and Sackett. The one where I met Domenic, the last time I saw him. We walked in. A nasty boy at the bar started kickin my friend Hannah in the butt. She yelled at them. His friend was embarrassed and bought us all a round of budweisers. The bartender remembered me, so I didnt get ID'd. Good thing,since i had forgotten all my possessions at Wil;s place. Then HE walked in. THe guy with the tie....