Monday, October 03, 2005

It's time jane...our time.

Dear Jane,

So since I have yet to officially document any time whatsoever I have spent in New York, I figure I would just jump right in to where I'm at right now. Forget all that previous fluff. Forget all the drama of living in 5 different hotels in 3 weeks, all the stories of creaky hotel roofs, leaking sewage water from overflowing toilets onto my bed at 7am. Don't even bother with tales of meeting new friends, completing new projects, surviving a new city filled with dirt and grime and crazy people. Omit the yarns of drunken nights, calls to ex-roomates briming with unneccesary tension, cockroaches crawling across the living room of my new apartment.
You're not definitely not going to hear about the time I accidentally ended up in an extremely gay bar with my first girlfriend from highschool... or how I stood on a rooftop 20 stories in the sky at 3am staring at the bright white hallogen lights of the Empire State building. Or the copious ammounts of chicken salad sandwhiches I have consumed, or the visit to the school psychologist (which I will have you know is only open till 1pm to which I say "what depressed people are awake before 1pm?!") You will surely not hear about the Pixies concert at coney island I scalped half-price tickets for after 2 hours of waiting...or the increadibly strange cat I live with named Clementine who negotiates for bits of food in a high pitched whine-meow.
No Jane you will not hear about any of these things.
I will instead tell you all about what's going on with me right now...for once...absolutely nothing. And you know what Jane? I much prefer something. It's time time.

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