Take Me Down To Chinatown.

Alright.
I've been holding back this entire time- I was good. I bought 1 shirt the first week, and have been spending my finances on only the necessities...but today, was my breaking point. Though- how could you expect to control yourself in Chinatown when everything is so damn cheap (and you've got an amazing suite mate whos got super-natural haggling skills, ensuring I never paid over 18 dollars for something...it was truely beautiful)

7 t-shirts for 10 bucks...I'm so there
Along with a knock-off LeSportsac, some flats (finally) and a shitload of jewelry for $2 each. God.

We also had famous Canal street chinese food:

yum.^

Connecticut attacking Jersey with chopsticks

Smile if you've spent money

After this excursion, it poured. So I did laundry and watched the dumbest movie I've ever seen; it's ending 1-800-DON'T CUT. Yes, it was a Lifetime Original, how did you know?! Golly you're good.

Yesterday

Yesterdays blog today because today was an ego trip- and thats not exciting enough to write about, and yesterday was indeed more eventful. A journey to Greenwich to find the proclaimed (and rightful) best cupcakes at Magnolia's:

^ I actually devoured them as soon as I got them so there wasn't any time for a picture...you get the point though.

Next, a recount of the 10 erotic toy stores within a 5 block radius of eachother, as well as a few photographic opportunites. Sadly, my computer is having a vicious fight with my camera and they are simply not speaking (literally ignoring eachother...ah technology) so pictures will have to come later (if I don't kill my camera first).

edit: the picture

Not Much, So Much

Not much to talk about unless you're interested in my mental state (which is most unentertaining.) Basically, I decided to ignore my alarm...and proceeded to awake at 9:50. What time does my first class start? 10! So, after 1 minute of profanity, I realized I had not much time to spare and I actually managed to throw on a clean shirt, dash across campus, and make it at 10:01. And my teacher doesn't mark minor tardies...how lucky/good am I? Very, you answer.

So I went through classes, which were a tad bit more entertaining just because we're doing scenes and I got to freely act ridiculous. It was wonderful. I also got my scene compared to the teacher with early SNL, the days of John Belushi, Gildna Radner, Bill Murray etc, you know, the good days. (I was most pleased that I could be considered humorous for 3 minutes) Also, reading for other people's scenes was quite fun as well- for example, I got to be a mental case woman was about to go home with/date a racist, bloodsucking, man-killing, overthetop offensive perv, but refused in the end when she found out he liked The WHO because Keith Moon threw his drumset into the crowd and killed her brother...profound, yes. Hilarious to read? You bet.

So- I had a writing conference with one of my favorite teachers here and he gave me a bunch of new ideas in the way of directions to go on the short story I've been working on about my Uncle in the past year. I was so full of ideas for it that for once I actually started writing before midnight (I tend to do that...and apparently its because my senses and inner critic who slow me down are dulled. So yes! There is method to my inherent madness.)

But writing this- its heavy, always is, probably always will be, and every time I come back to it I forget. Funny thing is, the character thats supposed to be me, is really just the narrarrator and the little kid with no idea whats going on. I have little to do with it at all...but either my allergies are back (which is completely plausable as you would not BELIEVE the gross suprises in here) or my eyes were welling up....like I said, its quite the heavy thing.

And I believe I must depart now...as the roomates are screeching over cockroaches again (hey, ya live in New York City, ya better lower your expectations. I was on a run throughout campus the other night and I almost leaped right on to a rat scurring across my path...didn't even flinch.)

And here- a random photograph from my excursion across the great brooklyn bridge...because, well, pictures are fun and attention grabbing...


Lights at night....baaaaaaddd photo subjects. The end.

Waiting

So the day has just begun...waiting for things to happen- can you imagine, in New York City of all places? Yeah well thats Crystal logic for you. But its not that bad, I actually have plans- midday plans and those are just the worst as you can't do much before or much after. I did walk down to the hungarian bakery this morning on Amsterdam for my usual weekend breakfast which is always the most fantastic cherry turnover I've had in my life (and believe me, I know cherry turnovers).

So now, I wait for 1:30 in which I embark upon my trip to the Jewish Museum, where hopefully I will learn more as well as become inspired with a starting point for my journalism article so as to write a respectable and not a name-ruining one. Maybe that's hoping a lot...but I've also been working on my optimism.

So I'm starting to miss home quite a bit...not the town mind you, just the people, and er- creatures. For example, I can't walk down Broadway without missing this:

I fully accept that I'm a dork, thanks.

Out for now,

-C.S.

Intention

So- I know, that I'm halfway done with this... but to be frank yet cliche- better late than never, right? Just what I said. I rather enjoy the fact that I decide to start this up today, the day where I have done absolutely nothing. Really, nothing. Yesterday however, was a different story...which is probably why I did little to nothing today.


(alphabet city)

Last night, I went to the Nyorican Poets Cafe and, it was absolutely mindblowingly, inspirationally, amazing. I've been working on this one poem for about a year now, and I've been looking for anything I can do to it to really make it stand. Although I'm working with one of my writing teachers on edits on the literal page, I now know exactly how I want to read it. I don't believe I've actually really felt poetry before, but by god it was the stuff that true art was made of last night. But talking about this is pointless- you'd need to see it for yourself. Unfortunately in the lovely suburbs...you can't.


I'd like to change that- but we'll see how far that goes...Bohemia in Suburbia is a rare portal.


(a few suitemates and a night in the projects)

Also, yesterday I went to lunch in the UN (extremely limited to the public), took a tour of the UN, and had a lesson in biblical codes over a cell phone with a Rabbi (no really, it was genuinely interesting).

Thursday, I had the Number 1 pizza in the city, and crossed the brooklyn bridge as the sun went down.


So, yesterday and thursday were to put it mildly: spectacular.
Today: I walked four blocks before realizing I had crossed several streets without even looking at the light (or both ways for that matter) Lets hear it for assimilation!