Thursday, July 24, 2008

New York Tenement Blues

I'm not even going to lie about it: There is absolutely nothing sexy about tenement living. It's taken me nearly a week to free up enough space in my Manhattan studio to lay my mattress down horizontally, making this past Wednesday the very first time in damn near a month that I was able to finally sleep in my own bed. I think I'm ready to tour with Cirque de Soleil as a contortionist after slithering my way around all the stacked boxes and oversized Atlanta furniture.

But the place is coming along, slowly but surely. I have my Internet working, scored a new fridge from my building management, and *hopefully* by tonight I'll be able to catch up with Project Runway (no spoilers!). Even had a cute delivery man help me move furniture.

Otherwise, I've been keeping busy trying to overthrow world media (yes, again). Finished writing some riveting liner notes for a Wu-Tang Clan DVD, attended my first cable TV pitch meeting today and took a call about another really cool, creative project I might just get involved with. Had lunch with a fellow Super Deluxe refugee the other day, while sadly missing another one passing through town. Hopefully there will be plenty of time to see everyone, both local and visiting. 

It's also been a really Erlene-heavy day. It's really hard not to think of her all the time anyway, but today was particularly intense. As I was organizing my stuff, I found the two items I'd taken to remember her by: her Burberry scarf and the weird little "Graffiti Wars" painting she had displayed in her cube. That, and staring at the shelf unit we assembled together one drunken, hazy night in my Atl apt. has been hard. I still can't believe she won't be coming to stay here with me.

So yeah, living in a tiny-ass apartment—albeit one that's rent stabilized and in an awesome neighborhood—kinda sucks. But when I walk outside and feel the NYC energy buzzing through the air, and see all the gorgeous women dressed to kill at all times, it inspires me; it makes me happy. It makes me feel like I'm home.




1 comment:

Matthew said...

I hate that I didn't get to hang out with you while I was just there. I know what you mean about Erlene too... I have memories of hanging out with her in Boston. And it opened up some hidden wounds when I came back. I was doing ok for a while and now I think I miss her more than ever because I'm reminded of days before I worked with her, when we were just good friends.