A Magicked Pipe

There are some nights, nights when people work past midnight cutting boards and listening to music, that living in a carpentry shop isn't the joy filled place it would seem to be. Fortunately the smoothie guy was clever enough to get my brain turning the next morning.

Still working on the bathroom. It seems like this is the never ending job. In reality all I promised to do was install a shower. When I arrived I found I was building a bathroom and a loft. This including walls, lights, doors, windows, tile,... I'm not sure if this is worth the trouble.

Finding I was short on two inch pipe I made a nice walk over to the plumbing supply store on Prospect Park street and 5th Ave. Walking in I requested a 10 foot piece of 2 inch PVC pipe, MAPP gas, and a few copper fittings. After paying, the plumbing genius guy handed me my bag with the MAPP gas and copper fittings in it. Seeing my confusion he explained, "Your pipe is outside under the latch." I pretended to know exactly what he meant.

As I walked outside I began to worry I would have to go back inside, look like and idiot, and ask again where the pipe was. I looked to the left side of the side walk and only found the latch leading into the basement. Then I noticed a 1' x 1' metal square cover right in the middle of the side walk. I had walked right over it every time i had come down this street.

After examining it like a blind man I noticed the latch had a pull out handle on it. Wondering how my 10 foot piece of pipe could fit into such a hole, but not wanting to go back in and look like a green horn, I opened the hatch. There in front of me was the end of my purchased pipe. The other end I could only assume was resting on the basement floor, for the hole was angled. I grabbed the one end and pulled it up. As a magician pulling a rabbit out of his hat I pulled my pipe out of the sidewalk. Except in this case I was also the audience. My face showed astonishment and joy of the produced pipe.

As I walked down the street with my magicked pipe I noticed that Brooklynites only talk to you when they want to tell you you're doing something wrong. "Put the bag on the one end of the pipe!"; "Hold it with both hands to balance it!"; "Don't go to far out into the street with that. A car will hit the end before you see it." I replied to all such comments with my kind you're-so-helpful smile. I've noticed this makes them feel like they've accomplished a great deal.

I love how some old guys are proud of their saggy hairy bodies. The 70 year old guy with no shirt and underwear sticking out was as if the future me had come to the past to visit.

The Five Hour Job

This morning I took on the task that no one who has come into this building or been offered to stay in this room was willing to take on... I cut into a 5 inch cast iron city drainage (sewer) line! It took me literally FIVE hours of constant cutting and drilling to cut through it. I cut through a two inch pipe the other day with the same saw in under half an hour. The problem with this one was the only access to it was by means of a small crawl space between the two floors. I have made the hunk of iron I cut out my own personal trophy of accomplishment.

Riding my bike beside Greenwood Cemetery while listening to Postal Service is my kind of therapy. The black metal fence blurring the thousands of gravestones as I petal by gives it an old reel type home movie look. Even the zut zut zut noise of the fence posts passing by seems as if the clicking of the frames from one to the next.

I'm starting to get caught up in Neon Genesis Evangelon. I here they are making a movie of it this year. While most of the actors are english the movie is in Japanese. I hope they subtitle it and bring it out over here as well.

Russian soups are best with sour cream mixed in. A raw cabbage salad is so much better than you would think.

One step closer to having a working bathroom

"BernzOmatic Propane. Fire/Explosion Hazard. Contains enough gas to cause serious fire, explosion, and burns. To reduce chance of leak, fire, or explosion:

In Case Of Fire
1. Leave area quickly. Call for help.
2. Let cylinder burn out.



Summer in the City means...



"If I could be who you wanted..." "What bench?" "Don't worry everything is ok..."
A number of the locally owned shops around Park Slope put out chalkboards with random expressions on them. I'm not too sure the purpose of them. Even more unusual is that I have only seen one that had anything to do with the store. It read, "Wine is natures last true poetry."

I'm nearly finished plumbing the bathroom in the place I'm staying at. We keep adding all these crazy things to it. It now has a shower head coming out of the ceiling and one at your waist. Now Nate, the owner of the carpentry shop, wants to add a piece that runs down the whole length of the shower. It would spray water at all levels. This will be the wettest shower experience ever!

In some ways I wish I had the windows done so I could use the AC, but having the fan blowing on me at night in the hot room reminds me of my childhood. I used to set the fan up right next to my bed. I would then tuck in every side of my sheet expect the one facing the fan. I wouldn't use the blanket in the summer. It was way to hot in our old air-condition-less house for that. The air from the fan would blow into the one open side causing a tent of air to form around me. I've never slept better sense.

Clu-unk, Clu-unk, Clu-unk... The sound of the trains create thoughts of giant monsters prowling through the quiet streets of Brooklyn at night.

Caffeine equals two bannas, strawberries, and soy milk

Over the past year I've realized that I still don't like coffee, but I do LOVE smoothies in the morning. I'm not talking about your average ice and a juice smoothie. I crave the smoothies with real fruit and soy milk or yogurt mixed in.

My mornings have felt so lethargic since I've been here. It was like I was missing something, and that something was beautiful smoothies. I looked for a few days, but found no proper smoothie places. Today, however, was a new day.

On 7th Ave between 11th and 12th street there is a wonderful place that has given me reason to wake in the morning called Naidre's. It's a local bakery/coffee house/cafe.

I took the scooter out this morning with a mission, to find a smoothie place and some cat food for Trinity. I feel very accomplished, even if Trinity doesn't like her all natural cat food.

Cabinets and Geometry

The day started off slow. Skipped breakfast to get an extra hour of sleep, as usual. It's nice to live above the place you work, even if it is just and empty room with no running water and a hole in the wall for a window.

I found out that taking cabinets to the third floor of old brownstones in Park Slope isn't as easy as one might think. I also learned that buildings older than 60 sag in the center of the room and pull the walls with them. It's kind of like humans over 60.

The big talk of 7th Ave is how the Starbucks might be leaving. Of course there is another one three blocks down.

St. John's street is full of babies and mothers.

Dropped by the Mexican place on Prospect Park West with the giant sombrero over it's entrance after work. I picked up the biggest burrito I've yet seen and walked the three more blocks to Prospect Park to sit with Foxy and watch the attempts of Brooklynites at exercise and socializing through their dog. I love living so close the park. It makes me want to play baseball, football, Frisbee, and whatever else everyone is playing. To many of my friends feel like they need to plan to play sports. Whatever happened to the days of ringing your friends after work to meet for a game of ball? I think most people are simply lazy and want and excuse to say no. I might be included in that group from time to time.

I feel bad for the stray cat, whom I've nicknamed Trinity for the three small dots on her chin. I sneak her in each night and give her food, but tonight she is going with out because I've run out of cat food. I hope she likes my left over sandwich.

Verranzano Bridge

I took the old beach comber bike out today. It was hot for the city. Around 85 or so. Oksana had gone out for sushi with a friend around 7:30 p.m. At the same time I decided I'd take a ride out to the Verranzano Bridge to take some night pictures.

Riding a bike in the city is bad enough, but riding a night is so much more fun. I took Bay Pkwy down toward the water. At about four blocks from the water I could feel the kind cool ocean breeze. It made me peddle even faster. Though the Better Than Ezra blasting in my ear was keeping my peddling at a good pace by itself.

When I came to the water I took the bike path that runs along the Belt Pkwy. It was crowded with people of all sorts. Most people just walking and causing me to ride my bike on the grass path next to the gravel. There seemed to be only three types of bikers. One, the hasidic jews taking there time and pretending not to enjoy the breeze. Two, very serious bikers with wind resistant clothing and bikes that cost more than my car. Lastly, there were the families. They had all the little kids out there with them. One father was even trying to teach his son how to ride. Let me tell you, it took great skill to avoid crushing him and his dreams of riding a bike forever.

Of course there was also me. I probably looked like a fool, riding around with my jeans and t-shirt on. I never seem to fit into a category. I barely even notice anymore.

My ride back was a bit more harrowing. It is hard to see people hiding out under trees at night. I scared the mess out of a poor little girl who didn't see me coming. I was going as slow as possible, but all she saw when she turned around was a bike in her face.

Tried a new type of ice cream today from a famous Brooklyn pizza place called Spumoni Gardens. The ice cream, also called Spumoni, was some kind of mixture of pistachio, chocolate, vanilla, lime,... I'm not sure about the rest. I thought it was ok. Most people would have liked it, but I'm not a fan of nuts in my ice cream.

Communication is a lost art. Know any good are classes?

Oh So Crafty!

Went to the renegade craft fair today in Williamsburg. I loved it. I felt like I belonged there. Though I don't think I looked like i did. Among all the home made and Goodwill clothing I stood out like a sore thumb in my Aeropostale collared shirt and newly cut hair.

I asked Oksana and Josh to come along for the fun. Josh's greatest accomplishment that day was finally figuring out how to refold the Brooklyn map. He's always good for a quiet laugh.

The greatest thing about the fair was it's location. At one time there was a very large and decorated public pool in Williamsburg, but that was long ago. Today it was the scene of one hundred or so booths featuring buttons, mirrors, hand made clothes, home made books, and lots and lots of crafty people.

I now long to learn how to work with leather. I want to make satchels and journals. It's rare that I desire such tactile works. Josh plans on leaning how to sow a suit. Together we will establish a new fashion elite.

Foxy and I made our best go of making it to a theater in Sheepshead bay. I hate the trains on the weekends. We ended up in Brighton Beach. Apparently this is where all the Russians make there home. It's a respectable place under the Q train tracks.

For any of you beer or BBQ lovers I've found a wonderful place in the north slope, on 6th and 20th. It's cleverly name BarBQ. The best thing is it's REAL BBQ. None of that Dallas BBQ crap that most people in this city confuse for BBQ. Plus they feature on tap a great summer ale called Magic hat. To top it all off the bar tenders make their own sauces. Try out the one called exhaust. The bar tender Mike plans on selling the stuff outside the bar. I've never tasted a more perfectly balanced BBQ sauce.

Off to bed in my not so homie carpentry shop.