Michelle made some good news today she got an apartment that is literally three blocks away from us. It’s on the other side of Flatbush Ave. (which, I realized today, is something I’m kind of a snob about) but it’s on a beautiful tree-lined street with landmark protection, and hers is a studio apartment built in 1883 with 13-ft. ceilings and a definitely good vibe.
Tessa and Michelle in the new apt; view of street with Michelle’s windows upper left
(click on either for a bigger image)
Owners amaze me with the loving detail they pay to their apartments here in Brooklyn; while we were walking, we saw a guy risking his life to darken the black trim of his outside windows. Our landlord almost needs to be medicated when it comes to the crannies and nooks of our place. The only comparable fetishization of apartments I’ve ever experienced is in the swankier parts of San Francisco and perhaps the French Quarter. Even Manhattanites tend not to stress about it East Village apartments are full of stern, handwritten warnings and city-issued recycling instructions annoyingly pasted over the mailboxes with ancient duct tape.
Anyway, Michelle’s place is cool, and the loft (see pic) is actually well-constructed, with nicely-detailed pillars. It’s nothing like the usual dorm loft with squeaky 2x4s and a ladder about to collapse. I was always a fan of the loft (’twas where I slumbered in the East Village) but one must take into consideration how sexually prohibitive they can be. A girl teetering on the edge of having sex with you can really be daunted by a ladder. Plus, it’s not like you can segue from a backrub or a chat or anything; getting into the loft is something of a serious commitment.
Not knowing any better, I always took the loft bed at Carolina, largely because I suspected I wasn’t getting laid in a room with Jon and Chip in it anyway.
Tonight I played disastrously bad hoops on Mulberry Street, which was demoralizing, because I’ve been pretty good of late. Although I made three spectacular driving shots, I probably missed thirty. It was a fuckin’ nightmare. But my mood has been pretty good this week, and things around the city are looking especially beautiful to me, so once out of the gym, I took this shot of Prince Street and Broadway, and felt a lot better.
click above for bigger image, or here for a QT movie of the Q Train home