Sometimes those streets are stinky. I have made a solemn vow to refrain from remarking upon the weather, but the vow police can’t get to me before I talk about weather-related ambiance fallout. I.e. the Summer Stench left by trash piles on street corners. It lingers and festers well after the deeply noble, long-suffering sanitation workers come around to remove it. Crossing guards tie bandanas across their faces. Hipster parents abandon entire avenues. Hapless Starbucks seekers like myself try to avoid gagging while thinking fondly of the Gowanus canal flowing meekly and slugglishly and nearly stench-less-ly just a few blocks from my apartment.
IT IS NOT FUN TO WALK 8 BLOCKS IN THIS…um…climate… HOLDING YOUR BREATH.
This week I’m setting up shop in Astoria – a friend has gone to Paris and left me in charge of her 2 cats, her DVR and her air conditioning. This…um..climate…. is giving her AC a run for its money, but it’s definitely less climate-y than the MKP abode. Plus there are cats! I’ve been forcing myself to walk slowly around her neighborhood to get a feel for it. Today it felt like a cemetery with buildings in it, due to the…climate. I would not have been surprised to see tumbleweeds or rattlesnakes, honestly. Gunfight at the QN Corral.
Last night’s Mets game was an exhilarating night with awesome pyrotechnics and a saaaaad loss to the Reds. Prior to that I’d spent two days watching the Mets play the Nats in DC, and learning the difficult lesson that I cannot eat like my teenage brother anymore. Turns out two days of soda and hot dogs and sausage and pizza and ice cream and slushies and nachos and french fries = the WORST and most NAUSEATING heartburn/reflux I’ve ever had EVER. I’m old. Deal with it. So I don’t have to. Pass me the corndogs!
Final bit of randomsauce, the writing is going well – I’m enjoying the research, falling into a rhythm, depending ever more on my Writer’s Fuel, and saw my first authored clips on TV today, which was awwwesome. I could get used to this. If only I could get used to being struck with inspiration at 11:30 the night before a script is due…. Hey, we’ve all got a process. Mine, like TV Dick Van Dyke’s, involves lying on a couch, snacking, sleeping and lots of time on the internet (that last part Dick Van Dyke didn’t have access to). I can envision any number of possible futures for myself, and to someday count among one of these ladies is climbing higher on the list.
Funny story, I’m allergic to cats. I had one for most of my life and never noticed that he made my eyes sting and my skin itch until I came back from college. Fortunately our relationship had long been one of mutually short-tempered affection, so we spent bursts of time together and feuding and all was well. My gal pal’s cats are fluffy and affectionate and OH GOD WHERE’S MY CLARITIN…..