I am...a New Yorker

[Previous entry: "Not Missn' You at All"]

Sunday, May 5, 2002
Cursng the Vultures

Nothng...I forgot all my cameras, unfortunately.

Life, or Somethng Like It -- not as stupid and sentimental as I'd thought. Besides, I love Ed Burns' accent.

Murder By Numbers -- The whole time, I just wanted to see Ryan Goshlng and Michael Pitt make out. How can I help it? They were always embracng and lookng at each other n that special way. Besides, Michael Pitt has the most yummy, bee-stung lips and we all know how Erica feels about tall, sknny geek boys.

Lord of the Rngs -- I wanted a little more quality time with the elf, but came n about a half hour too late. I was glad to see the preview for The Two Towers as wel
A movie and a preview I'd rather not see agan -- Eight Legged Freaks.

Where it all went wrong when I read thngs I wrote just 3 months ago:
Classic Blanepear lne yesterday. He had on the classical music station and the music was really bubbly and fantastical.

He said, "Don't you just feel like we're two fairies workng together?"

I joked about what a shit fairy job it was to be collatng the board book and that I was gong to talk to the fairy union! I had to just look at him and laugh. A couple of fairies, my eye!

I am...tired of hearng an area 1/2 mile from where I live referred to as "Ground Zero." Fuck the mndless media hack who dubbed it as such.

On Saturday, one of the women n my buildng, Karen, and I decided to head downtown. Dori mentioned she would be at the Alternative Arts & Crafts fair n Battery Park on Saturday. It concided with the Million Marijuana March, so it promised to be an nterestng day all around.

I didn't know how to get to Battery Park, snce the 1/9 lne have changed and no longer go to South Ferry. Out of habit, snce we were on a Brooklyn-bound tran, I got off at Chambers, thnkng I could switch to a local. But of course, now the 1, which used to be the local, goes to Brooklyn. We weren't sure where the 2 goes now, so we decided to walk the rest of the way.

It was only about 10 blocks, but through the shameless hordes of tourists and death profiteers, it took much longer than it normally would have. I don't generally spend a lot of time downtown, never on the weekends and hardly at all snce September. I've never seen such crowded sidewalks n New York. Knowng the reason, made me angry and disgusted.

Eventually we made it past Trnity Church and I remembered all the jobs I applied for downtown and thanked my lucky stars I was not hired at any of them and that I didn't have to see any of that with my own eyes.

We made it to Battery Park, we two lost New Yorkers who had to ask a couple of New York's fnest, er, Fnest for directions. We entered the park on the Bowlng Green station side, near the Citibank that used to be a receivng area for luxury lners (doorways are stil marked "First Class" and "Steerage"). I wasn't sure where the craft fair was, though it looked like it took up most of the park. It turns out that was actually the closng festivities for the Marijuana March. We fnally found the craft fair, after walkng all the way to South Ferry station and circlng back.

I spotted some lovely handmade necklaces which I thought looked familiar. I picked up a card to be sure before I mouthed "Dori?" and ntroduced myself. As always, it was like meetng an old friend, rather than a stranger. We chatted for a bit and I bought this lovely, red, lariat necklace from her. I saw it on her site a few weeks ago and knew I wanted it. I just love the word lariat.

Of course, I was too distracted by my friend Karen and didn't tie it, so I looked like a complete dweeb, with the ends just hangng. Dori tied it for me and I must say it looks wicked. I can't wait to wear it with some sexy ensemble on my next date with the Greek. We headed over to the booth sellng goodies, ncludng brownies "with no special ngredients." Darn! I lost Dori n the crowd shortly after she bought her "Got Pot?" halter top.

. . .

Karen and I were parched at that pont. We bought water at the nearest hot dog cart. I noticed an M6 stop just across the street. Perfect, that goes right near our place. It came quite quickly, but it was packed. That's unusual below about 23rd or 34th Street. Karen and I had to stand, although one man's camera and shoppng bags were apparently more tired than we were.

The bus turned onto this tny street, blocked by cars parked on each side and one car double-parked. It was the knd of little, one-way, downtown street that no bus should travel on. After a block, the bus turned right agan to head north. Almost immediately, about a dozen people stood up and crowded the wndows on the left side of the bus. Suddenly we saw IT, the thng I have been avoidng for months, that I pretended was a million times further away than the mere half mile to my apartment.

There was no wall on that side and so Karen and I got a view we didn't bargan for. She turned around and crossed herself, while I cussed out the tourists, called them vultures and spit n their general direction. I stole the bag man's seat while he videotaped it. Stupid motherfucker.

This is not a photo opportunity, you fuckng ambulance chasers! I noticed the aerial photo feature while lookng up cross streets for somethng n my neighborhood. I looked up the WTC because I wasn't sure how recent any of the photos were and largely because I am still tryng to accept it.

Although I've been avoidng it myself, I can understand New Yorkers needng to see it. I can see how it could be therapeutic to see the scar gouged nto this tny island we love so much. Maybe it will help us fathom and accept it -- like that first look n the mirror, post-mastectomy. What I cannot fathom is the knd of souless ghoul who visits New York to buy souveneirs of terror, destruction and death.

[Next entry: "Lookn' for Someone to Love"]
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