Somebody Remembers the Rose, While the other Forgets How it Grows

I saw P when I was getting off my bike at our street.  He was carrying a small sack.  I immediately thought it might be a treat for me but didn't want to assume.  I was starving but it was late and I didn't plan to eat.  It was a single carne asada taco!  A dream!  Better than roses, better than almost anything I could think of right at that moment.  And he took the time to put on salsa verde, the hot one, which he knows is my favorite.
Sometimes men don't suck.

I've Learned My Lesson, It Left A Scar

Adding to the state of collapse with regards to our current dwelling, our gas was out for 5 days after we came back from our Colorado trip.  Gas and hot water.  It was so hot that we were lucky it wasn't the power, so I'm not still complaining.  It was both exhilarating, taking cold showers and a treat because you have to eat out when you can't cook.  It did get old when neither was convenient though.

On the day it was to be fixed, the guy said he wouldn't turn it back on due to illegal plumbing. It was dangerous and could cause a gas leak.  Whoever did the job was a moron and knows better he said. Figures my landlady would hire a dimwit because that's who seems to do all the work around here if at all. The guy that fixed the leaking roof last year was about 90 and I had to hold my breath the whole time he did this completely dangerous and uncalled for Buster Keaton hire wire act on our top floor rickety old staircase banister.  And the genius patch job leaked through the next rain.  Actually these hires do every job just to the absolute minimum definition of 'fix' and then they're out of here.  No clean up of the site, ever.  No making sure it all works afterwards, that's always a surprise extra.

I'm so glad to be looking for new apartments and fantasizing about no drama neighbors or fear of coming home to God knows what each week.  The neighborhood is amazing and we can't afford it, it's just this building that's gone south.  It's no one's fault, just the situation.  Owner is in over her head and lives out of state, can't take care of her responsibilities.  Her father was a bad alcoholic that died from bad health and he left a grieving girlfriend that is dong the best she can but her best is pretty hard to live above.

The day I'm writing this, a Penske truck is parked outside and guys wearing masks are piling whatever is left of her 40 years downstairs into it.  I feel like sleeping and like a huge gray plume of old air is penetrating my psyche.  I don't want to take in anyone else's crazy 'cause we're all stocked up over here.

The day the gas came back on we had a huge rainstorm and it helped to change the mood setting and I made an easy chicken sausage over greens and quinoa.

I Remember, I Remember When I Lost My Mind

The best day is when you eat great food and hear great live music.  

Ever since 9/11, the blackout and Sandy, I just feel like when things get freaky even for a few minutes in the city, there is a true sense of impending panic and chaos that is horrifying.  Something happened on the 1 train earlier in the day. Coming over on the D there were announcements, you know from our thousand year old system that you can really just barely make out one or two words. Something about 'not moving', 'some trains were turning back'...THAT's not a good thing.  I screwed up and didn't get off at the right stop so I headed to Times Square to meet P after work and we'd changed trains together.  Well that station is beyond insane in the first place and now with thousands and thousands more people, it is almost unbelievable how crowded it is at 6pm.  Well you couldn't even get down three steps to get on the platform for the 1. It felt dangerous, like it does sometimes. But like it did more so on this day because when trains get backed up at rush hour, the minions just sort of get all bunched up.  If something wrong, like as in bad, were to happen at that moment in that crowded multi train station, it would spell panic and terror.  At the same instance an amazing asian violin group was playing a version of Cee Lo's Crazy, which was so good that it was hard to ignore and even though I was starting to get the fear, I wanted to stop and check them out.  But they also added now a soundtrack to all this disaster movie atmosphere.  Did I mention it was hot as hell and humid too?

We found each other and decided to walk.

The best day is when you get pork belly and pulled turkey BBQ, see and old friend and hear great music... and the world doesn't blow up.