The Island

The YouTube post below should have served longer as a tide-me-over but here I am shaking and nauseated, still nursing a hangover from Last Night's Party, and Ideelz is calling me again.

I don't do transitional material, though, so I'll just plow right into the fact that Tacoma is upwards of 3,000 miles behind and I now live with Sulky in Fort Greene. Parties were thrown, tiles were broken, old friends were seen/offended/saddened, people were talking, and other specific things were rendered as general to protect me from having to actually relate them.

I've been in survival mode trying to decide between a job for a CIA type operation (but not the actual CIA), Penguin, or a magazine about prescription drugs, so I haven't even really had time to notice the differences between New York and Tacoma, except the predictable ones like everything happens three hours later here and as my dad said "if you're smart for Tacoma you're not that smart. If you're smart for New York then maybe . . ." He trailed off cause I had called to ask him to lend me some money.

Perhaps after I get on the 401(k), Dental, and Medical bandwagon - a wagon I fell off pretty hard when I started in the food-service industry eight months ago - I will have more to say about the cancerous growth of the white population in this town, the awful process of determining how much money your labor is actually worth (in my case between 10K and 100K per annum), and of course my best friends' blogs. Meantime go to LOLPizza.

This boulder will start to roll when I am a little stronger.