Currently listening to: Sufjan Stevens, Come On Feel the Illinoise
Current mood: Hanging in there, baby
Currently reading: Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince
Currently wishing: That my office had a window, and that it was fucking 6 o'clock already
Currently playing (when I'm at my sister's house): The Simpsons: Road Rage
The Found Film fest was awesome. There were some amazing things in it, including some horrible things that now, having seen, I cannot un-see. Most of it was simply hilarious.
I see things every day that could be put here under the stolen title of Eye on NYC. And I should. So now I will try to do so. Here are some things from the past weekend:
There's a homeless twentysomething white lady (with one of those cardboard signs that explain that she's going through a rough patch) who sits on the sidewalk on Park Ave between 16 and 17th Streets. Yesterday she was in front of the bodega on that block, and when I walked past her towards the subway, she was sitting cross-legged as usual, but she was leaning to the right so far that her head was almost touching the sidewalk, and she was fast asleep. It was pretty impressive, if only because that's a difficult position to get into even when one is fully awake. Three hours later I walked past her again on my way home. She was still cross-legged, still asleep, but now her head was touching the ground directly in front of her - a tricky yoga move. This time, I noticed she had set out some nail polish and a bottle of polish remover next to her. I guess she was huffing or something, but I'd rather imagine she was waiting for her nails to dry when she nodded off.
Last night when I was alone on the Seventh Ave. (Bklyn) subway platform, a mouse kept checking me out. He would run out a few inches from underneath the metal trash can (which was rusted out), pause and stare at me, and then run back. It was actually pretty cute, though he was extra skinny and dirty. I often see rats running on the actual tracks, but mice are rare.
I also finally saw my next-door neighbor. We didn't "meet," but we shared the elevator. Though only the two of us were in it, she faced away from me, possibly to prop up a large Duane Reade bag against the wall. I hear her sometimes, talking loudly on the phone, or watching TV. She can probably hear me singing along to my music and talking to myself. Once I heard her having a phone fight with a boyfriend that was clearly on his way to becoming an ex-boyfriend. I wasn't trying to eavesdrop, I swear! When I was walking to my door, it sounded as clear as if she was standing in the hallway with me.
My sister got a good Overheard inside the H&M Saturday but she's worried it's not good enough. But it totally is.