Mr. Sleepy: Weeks One and Two

So far, I have done all of the following at the OHT:

1. Received a very embarrassing head wound.
2. Re-met Richard. He, of course, shows no signs of recalling the first time that we met. I think that I might be frightened if he did.
3. Painted heads.
4. Bought and schlepped paint, dowels, screws, buckets, luan (which I subsequently scraped my neck on), and large blue mailing tubes.
5. Drank more cups of Mud coffee than I'd like to go into.
6. Successfully maneuvered a jigsaw, a chop saw, drills, an electric sander, and a 3-hole punch.
7. Not so successfully maneuvered poxy, and smelled like it until I changed for work tonight. Sick.
8. Painted heads, built pedestals, drew 1' yellow diamonds on white walls, marked 1/4" stripes on the floor, and hung Christmas lights using an extension ladder (whoa. scary.) and a staple gun.
9. Heard some of loops for this year's show. They made me laugh, even out of context.

Rehearsals start on Tuesday, and I'm excited. It's better than I ever would have expected.

Ha!: There's talk of having some sort of event for the bloggers that hate Richard, where they get discounted tickets and have a talkback moderated by Anne Bogart, who at Bard started an "I Hate Foreman" club, but who subsequently has become friends with him. I think that this is brilliant.

Also: The interns are going to be assigned days to ask Richard questions, and these plus the subsequent responses will be posted on the OHT website. So, if any of you have any questions that desperately need to be answered, please send them my way and I will attempt to work them into the mix.

i don't care if no one cares what i had for lunch

If you ever come to visit me in Williamsburg, I will take to you the Alligator Lounge, where with every beer purchase they give you a free pizza. My friend Jesica takes herself on dates there, and I'm planning to follow suit in the future.

Also, Theresa has been talking about this restaurant she really likes called Moto since I got here. She said that it was close, that it was tasty, etc. etc. We finally went there today with her parents, who are visiting, and by God if it isn't two blocks away with paninis and brunch and attentive waitresses and a huge wine selection. I will also take you there.

By the way: baked eggs, mixed greens, grilled bread, and two americanos. Don't you wish you were me?

This Dirty, Pretty City

I can't help but enjoy the skyline, even in this slogging, rainy excuse for weather that's going on outside. And all the streets are clean, at least for a day, as the rain beats down on them. Especially in Central Part West. Damn it's clean over there.

I've spent the last two days handing out flyers to Jewish people all over Manhattan, for a Yom Kippur celebration in Union Square that combines various traditional rituals with performance art. I was given a list of Jewish events around town, and asked to flyer them as best I could. I'm not sure that I was very good at my job, as I refused to be aggressive in the way people who usually hand out flyers tend to be. However, I just asked each person "Can I give you one of these?" and smiled, and 90% of them said okay and smiled back. The whole gig definitely made me appreciate how cool and calm working the box office for Fringe Encore has been. I'm going to be really glad, though, when I have a steady income and no longer have to do things like flyer the Upper West Side.

The days of steady (if meager) income are fast approaching, if my sources are correct. More to come on that front, and by God if it doesn't involve thousands of pounds of chocolate. You think I'm kidding? Don't question me.

Tonight when I got off the L train I decided it was time to purchase some groceries and actually cook some food that wasn't eggs with bean sprouts. I made squash blossom quesadillas and broccoli pasta soup. There are leftovers. It's good for me to do these sorts of things in these fateful last few days when I'll actually have the time and energy. My internship starts on Monday, and soon, I will never be able to catch up on my sleep.

P.S. Mystery Commenter: I like this game. Let's play some more.

Voyeurism

I can see into the window of 3C.

They are clearly watching porn on their computer.

Dirty.

Goodbye Blue Monday

Last night I drank Sangria Blanco and PBR in a bar filled with stacks of records, old typewriters, and seating made out of pianos and sewing machines. The drinks were cheap, the barkeep was friendly, and the company reminded me of home. Actually, as far as home is concerned, the whole place was reminiscent, down to the smell, of my old house on Laramie Street.

As a Labor Day gift to myself, I have done whatever has struck my fancy all day. I got up earlier than I had hoped to, due to the knocking and subsequent messing about and loud Russian of the super and his laborer, yet I came out of the deal with a closet door that swings on its hinges and a radiator that will work in the winter. I have eaten several meals, I went out for coffee, got some exercise, read a book, talked to MegaClar, sent some emails, and generally lounged about. Replenishing my various resources before continuing Ye Olde Job Hunt on the morrow.

All the Best from Brooklyn.

Danish and Dolly Parton

I got a job working at a bakery on Saturdays (with the forthcoming possibility of more afternoons during the week) in Carroll Gardens, Brooklyn. I serve coffee, make lots and lots of sandwiches, and have spent every minute so far trying not to get fired, as I feel as though the woman that hired me likes me, but her husband is interested in having me prove my worth as a human being as he stares at me constantly while I work.

The best and strangest thing about this man, however, is his obsession with country music. These people have lived in Brooklyn for at least 20 years, and yet I feel when I'm working as though I haven't really left the midwest at all. To his credit, his love of country extends way beyond Country and Western (thank God) and into Johnny Cash and even Jenny Lewis and the Watson Twins (I was near choking when I found that album in his stacks of CDs. . .good thing he wasn't there to scrutinize me at that moment).

And when it's not country, that means the pseudo-father figure isn't working, and it's instead my new corn-rowed friend who introduced me around the neighborhood after my first day of work, and that means there is extremely loud hip-hop on the stereo.

And the bagels are awesome.

Also:

I finally have keys to my apartment.

I finally made it to my apartment after having been unable to go home, for one reason or another, since yesterday at 1:30PM.

I finally bought an umbrella, after trudging through the rain for 10 blocks on my way to the train after work. It's really ugly, and that's okay.