I overslept this morning. I had woken once earlier, at an ungodly hour, because a group of men were being very loud outside my window. In my sleep-drunk stupor, I was convinced that they were vandalizing the building and I made a mental note to look at the graffiti in the morning. In the morning I saw no graffiti but I did see the inside of the Swallow Cafe. I've been there every day this week and I already feel like the baristas are judging me for it. I had red wine and coffee for breakfast. It felt weird. To say the least.
I take the L-train as my main steed out of Brooklyn. The L is the wildest bronco in New York. It barrels its way through tunnels, rocking violently side-to-side. My ears pop every time. I've almost been knocked off my feet multiple times. A man came into our car playing the accordion and singing in Spanish. I want to know if people ignore subway car musicians because they think the music sounds bad or because they feel that if they show pleasure then they'll have to tip.
I met Pigtina in the East Village and we ate Venezuelan food, which I don't think I've had before. I had shredded beef with beans cheese and plantains in a crispy corn bun. Highly recommend. We then went to Van Leeuwen for artisanal ice cream. Mine was hazelnut and it had lots of hazelnuts in it. I enjoyed it. The pig had Earl Grey. I sampled it and it was good and we talked about bedbugs.
Afterwards, I worked on the floor at school, where I promised to make a batch of pigs-in-blankets for a party Sunday night in BoCoCa. I was extremely pleased with myself because I knocked out all of the editing for the rough cut of my group's short film in less than two hours, thereby eliminating our scheduled meeting to sit around and edit together. I was terrified that we were going to be working through the night to finish.
I rewarded myself for all that time saved by coming home, buying a pack of beer (Goose Island IPA), reading a very heartwarming e-mail from the bagel, and watching a nature special on Siberian tigers with one of my new roommates, Artist.
I take the L-train as my main steed out of Brooklyn. The L is the wildest bronco in New York. It barrels its way through tunnels, rocking violently side-to-side. My ears pop every time. I've almost been knocked off my feet multiple times. A man came into our car playing the accordion and singing in Spanish. I want to know if people ignore subway car musicians because they think the music sounds bad or because they feel that if they show pleasure then they'll have to tip.
I met Pigtina in the East Village and we ate Venezuelan food, which I don't think I've had before. I had shredded beef with beans cheese and plantains in a crispy corn bun. Highly recommend. We then went to Van Leeuwen for artisanal ice cream. Mine was hazelnut and it had lots of hazelnuts in it. I enjoyed it. The pig had Earl Grey. I sampled it and it was good and we talked about bedbugs.
Afterwards, I worked on the floor at school, where I promised to make a batch of pigs-in-blankets for a party Sunday night in BoCoCa. I was extremely pleased with myself because I knocked out all of the editing for the rough cut of my group's short film in less than two hours, thereby eliminating our scheduled meeting to sit around and edit together. I was terrified that we were going to be working through the night to finish.
I rewarded myself for all that time saved by coming home, buying a pack of beer (Goose Island IPA), reading a very heartwarming e-mail from the bagel, and watching a nature special on Siberian tigers with one of my new roommates, Artist.
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