You remember this guy (RIP). His daughter is now following in his footsteps. She's good, too. I love participating in the obscurity of this. "Remember watching the ball drop on New Year's Eve in Times Square?" No. Remember that family of potato peeler grifters in Union Square? Yes.
I'm thirty years old and I live in New York, which pretty much means I can do whatever the fuck I want. Like spend the afternoon at the new David Chang restaurant in Midtown and then at the top of 30 Rock, just for fun, because you can, because it's Friday, you ain't got no job, you ain't got shit to do (that's not true: you do have a job, and you have a lot of shit to do).
But seriously, they need to update their maps.
My rent complaint is finally getting settled. More on that later. But in the meantime, I found out all kinds of fascinating things about the woman who used to live here, the one who paid $95 rent when the apartment was still set up tenement-style. The landlord doesn't know for how long she lived 
here - their records only go back to 1965 - but she was living here then. Which means that she lived here when this neighbourhood was still populated by families and little local businesses, and possibly when the El still ran down Greenwich Street, and before several square blocks were rased for the World Trade Center. She would have witnessed the building of the twin towers, and the evolution of her quaint neighbourhood street into Sodom South. And when September 11 happened, she was evacuated, as was all of Lower Manhattan, and according to the superintendents and the landlord she was "very elderly" at the time, and "never returned." In fact, the city didn't give my landlord the go-ahead to allow tenants to return until the spring of 2003. At some point that year, the woman's family asked the landlord permission to enter her apartment and remove her belongings, and at some point that same year (before or after, no one recalls), she passed away. I think about her utter confusion the day the towers fell, the diremption of her universe, the final chapter of her tenancy here written by that horrific act around which the entire world's politics then pivoted, let alone New York's history. Her name is still on my mailbox; I've never changed it.
I an drunk.
"come meet the majority leader"
You, me, cab? Yes No
(circle one*).
*note: failure to circle means yes.
I want you to know that the suspense is killing me.
What is the grounding principle of the first critique, again? (purposiveness is the grounding principle of the third)
Where you at? I'm outside your door with a half dozen roses.
AfterPARTy. Gonna pick a fight with kid rock
Guess what? Bill fucking Murray was at Loup last night. My co-workers talked to him.
Jeez woman, you ever deliver good news? It's always stuff like "The Times thinks you're a terrorist" or "Guess what? I'm on my period."
Holy shit there's going to be a lot of cheese and crackers there tonight. and i mean that both literally and in the derogatory and racist way.
Je vous ...? 4 letters.
THIS IS GOING TO KILL ME
i bow to your talent to slip in a fucking BOMB.
Omg! That is him! Holy shit!
I say "claro que si" though I can't get the netflix in time I don't think
Collin robinson just launched a new house and the first book is on Sarah Palin. Plus he apparently throws great parties.
Me too! Its been forevs! Im scared we will giggle all through class since all the giggles have been pent up
I cant tell if thats a sad cry or a cry me a river cry
Eh yo brooklyn eh
1458 your mom ave. Your Mom, YM 696969
Omg. I just met two of the cutest guys. They told me to come by 9th st coffee house. I told them I studied phil & they didn't flinch, it's on. We should go
Way to be! Way to be!
Am seeing [name] tonight. I am a weak, weak woman lol. How's the paper?
guy died on my train
You tell me if this comes across as impassioned or perfunctory: wanna get drunk and fool around?
We meeting for gut bombs or what?
Sawed off shotgun should be fine. It's right above the bedford nostrand G stop.
This text message warrants no response from me. I walked through the SNOW.
You are the worst kind of human being. Is the date with the 23-year-old tonight? P.S. You're gonna intimidate the Jaegermeister outta him.
IM PUMPED TO GET PUMPED
I am lurking on g-mail chat.
Listen, do you want me to be pretty or do you want me to be not pretty? Because i can come not pretty. Actually that's a lie i would never do that.
On my way. Dont drink anymore til i get there!
So [name] came home with me last night. We still on for pilates?
We're cabbing over. Where is wine?
Wait til u see the video
I have something that most New Yorkers don't: a neighbour. My good friend moved into the building about six months ago, and I can't tell you how ideal it is to have precisely that arrangement for the simultaneous intimacy and separation (roommate = too much; no neighbours = too isolated). We regularly - almost daily - get together and make cocoa and talk about boys, academia, our neuroses...
So Thursday I went to a taping of The View (long story) with a friend. Now that I have been to two tapings of shows, I am pretty sure I "get" it and never need to do that again. The best part, however (besides the swag - apple martini mix and face moisturizer!), was when a producer for the show stood directly in front of me (just because of where my seat happened to be located, on the aisle) and looked me directly in the eyes and barked commands into his headset. This went on for several minutes, and he never broke eye contact.
Then I got to work, and a guy I work with happens to be an actor, and this week he had a brief speaking role on As The World Turns (as a Russian ship captain, lol), and we huddled around the computer and watched his scenes. Awesome. So awesome. Uncanny.
I have a date place - a place I suggest for drinks, especially on a first date. It's small and intimate and has good music, played quietly enough that you can still converse easily.
A few weeks ago I let a friend in on my date spot, and she took a guy there. Tonight she had a date with a different guy, who she also arranged to meet at this spot. Only thing is, when she got there, date number one was sitting at the next table, obviously on a date himself. He stole her date place! Which means he stole my date place.
Of course, this being fractal New York, the small city infinitely redoubled back upon itself, the city of eight million people you will keep running into, they had the luxury of simply ignoring each other. Which they did.
This is one of those worst kept New York secrets, but damn is it a nice place for an after-work drink. Actually, the crowd was strictly business and not tourist.
The best part was the email by which my friend arranged to meet me there:
"Exit Grand Central via the grand staircase on the west side leading to Vanderbilt Ave. Upon exiting, turn left, walk 50ft, and reenter Grand Central through the glass doors on your left. Climb the stairs to the Campbell Apartment."
