Bad Advice

It's 8pm, do you know where your scaffolding is?

Well, at 5 Roebling, it's coming crashing down all over the place. My building was jolted by a loud crash as a few stories of scaffold went careening down to the ground. All I have is my crappy iPhone camera, but I think even with the low quality you can see the scaffolding leaning precariously to the left. There was a lot of yelling after the crash, but I don't think anyone got hurt. Naturally, as they're working dangerously and after hours, I called 311. I'm certain the city is going to get right on it. As they did every other time the tenants of my building called to complain about the myriad violations that have been a regular occurence for over a year next door. Remember when they yanked out our cable and telephone lines? I do!

Five Roebling originally started off as condos, but after the crash the owners ammended their plans and are following the trend by making them rentals. The lack of precision, craftsmanship, and any semblence of competence that has gone into making these two fugged out buildings is astonishing. From the demo to near-completion it's been 100% incompetence, 100% of the time.

UPDATE: My friend Meredith has a much better (scarier!) photo here—complete with Fire Department presence!

My view right now

We're in Woodstock, dodging hippies and enjoying nature. Well, I am at least—Spyro is watching nature in the Discovery Channel. So far I've seen two snakes, a fat toad, five deer, and two salamanders. I touched one of the salamanders.

UPDATE: Somehow the photo didn't load originally, but that's the "yard" of the house we were staying in. Also, the salamanders turned out to be baby frogs transitioning between tadpole and toad. I swam around with a frog the next day. Nature!

Road Trip #2!

Due to a combination of extreme generosity and bad luck (both on her part), I'm spending the weekend up in Woodstock at an amazing house, my friend Julesie rented and then couldn't use. As I write this, I'm sitting on a screened in porch, looking out at nature and wondering what it would be like to live 24/7 in a place that actually smelled good.

Maybe it's because I live downwind of a poo-processing plant, but the first thing I notice about any new place is the smell. Right now I'm breathing in freshly mown grass, lillies, and citronella. There's a vague firey undercurrent because the last tenants of the house must've taken advantage of the wood-burning fireplace. It is markedly better than the city smells I'm used to.

The big guy is on his way up here this evening and we are so not on the same page, mood-wise. He called all frantic because he was about to miss his bus, while I'd spent the hour before floating in the pool, looking up at the sky. I haven't brushed my hair in two days. I'm going feral. He's shrieking about his new job and how much pressure he's under. Once he officially missed his bus he called again, swearing that next time we're going to Disneyland. I would sooner forfeit a limb than spend one second inside that hellhole. He's on his own.

Hopefully he'll have chilled out by the time he gets there. Because if he hasn't, he's sleeping out by the pool.

Road Trip!

 As I mentioned in my previous post, last week Debra, Jannese, Spyro and I went on a little journey Upstate. Here's Spyro, being forced to look excited about spending the day looking at antiques.

This is the house we stayed at on Brigham Lane—I didn't take any photos inside, but believe me when I tell you it was unbelievably charming. Whoever decorated it is welcome to come on over to my apartment and have at it. As you can see, the place isn't large, but it never felt too close, even with four of us inside.

What you're witnessing here was my favorite wildlife moment of the weekend. Debra calls these little frogs, "Peepers," which I guess is their actual name. We used to have tons of them growing up in Rochester. This little dude was not happy to be held and so paid J-Ro and I back by peeing on our hands.

My second favorite wildlife moment was when we were all getting out of the car one night, in the pitch black, and something went crashing through the woods behind us. Debra ran shrieking towards the house while the rest of us howled with laughter. It was probably a deer, though I tried to convince her it was Sasquatch.

A tale of two views. . . .

This is the view out my window. Sure, if I tipped the iPhone a couple more degrees you'd see the glorious trees of Private Sonsire Triangle, but looking down, this pretty much sums it up: some little garbage cans and a giant construction dumpster.

This was the view I had this past weekend. The Large Greek and I, along with our friends Debra and Jannese, made a trek upstate. We're all kind of thinking we'd like to own a little cottage or something up there, so this was a way of getting our toes wet (though not in the creek—that was a little too murky for this citiot).

We stayed at this unbelievably charming house in Lake Katrine. I highly recommend the place—$300 a night, which is reasonable if you go with another couple. I'm sure it's cheaper by the week, but some of us are actually employed and can't just run off to the country whenever the whim strikes. And the others of us are under-employed and can't just run off to the country because we can't afford it. Complete rundown TK.

Bust, my ass!

This week marked the return of something we haven't seen in a while around these parts. No, I'm not talking about the enormous phallic saint at the Giglio—I'm talking the piledriver. Stalled construction sites surround my little corner of the world and so wasn't I surprised to feel that familiar feeling this afternoon . . .  the ground shaking beneath my feet and the reassuring boom of giant poles being driven deep into the ground. And on the same day that New York Magazine declares my neighborhood a disaster area!

I can't wait to see a plan of the stunning new architecture they're going to erect on the corner of Richardson and Union. Hopefully it'll have a yoga garden, so all those frustrated would-be buyers at the stalled Warehouse 11 (aka, Roebling Oil Field) will have somewhere to spend their hundreds of thousands of dollars.

A Little Weekend Pussy For You

Mabes and I are sitting home on a big Saturday night, watching the Margaret Cho movie.

The Large Greek got a new job that will entail him working out of our tiny apartment for a month or two. So I'm looking for a quiet place to work. I can't really do coffeeshops and the library has some issues. I need wifi, quiet, and convenience (off the L, or in Williamsburg). If you know of anything, please let me know. Thanks!