i just went to the post office to send my final (hopefully) piece of correspondence relating to my jaywalking infraction in LA. I need to send the damn thing certified mail so these people will get out of my life. I walked over to the Wall Street Station. It’s friday at noon, hell hour at the post office normally. It dawns on me that a post office is kind of the last place i want to be right now. As i walk in i realize it’s the last place anyone wants to be right now. I am the only customer. The Only Customer! This is unreal. I have spent 20 minutes waiting in line at this post office just to use the stamp machine. The Stamp Machine!
“Wow, so deserted?”, i comment to the lady. She shrugs. I shrug back.
All of Wall St is strangely deserted actually. There’s more people than on a saturday, but nothing like the lunch throngs that made me miserable in August. Barely a line at “the good sandwich place”. Ordinarily i’d look at the bright side, less lines, less agrivation, more room. But i really can’t. The bright side isn’t really very bright. Especially after exhaling a lungful of burnt skyscraper. Burnt skyscraper smell is awful, and still pretty intense down here. When i get off the C train at Broadway Nassau it’s a straight shot to the bottom of the burnt south tower. And the road is all white-ish yellow-ish with ash. The rain and street sweepers wash it away, all it takes is a light breeze to bring it back.
I walked along broadway to look the other day. There were lots of lookers, lots of cameras. I couldn’t be pissy at the tourists, after all i am one myself now, sorta.
As i walk to “the good sandwich place”, i try to take in the 30 or 40 story skyscrapers that crowd the narrow streets. They’re immense already. It’s all pretty heavy. And i get the impression that people here are done talking, done taking it all in.
Found this page when hunting for the latest Surfer’s Serials. It’s kinda nice to be able to just express yourself to no one particular, dontcha think?
Back in the city woo hoo! A fabulous halloween weekend later. it is nice to be home. Walking around all over today, realized new yorkers are just really cool.
Wrote about my adventures with airport security while waiting for flight… bon app-
So you know everyone with a badge here has the right to ask you pretty much anything. And of course after everything’s that happened, we’re all pretty happy to oblige, but i’m starting to think it’s all a bit futile. The guy in front of the check-in starts in with the usual:
“Who packed your bags?”
“I did”
“Where?”
“At my apartment.”
“Have they been in your possesion since you packed them?”
“Yes”
“Has anyone given you any gifts?”
etc etc. You know the drill.
But this time the line of questioning is far more exhaustive than i’ve encountered before.
“Do you have any electronic, battery operated devices?”
Jeez, i don’t think i have anything that isn’t battery operated. I start enumerating. The list is long. I’m feeling self-conscious about my materialism now.
“What’s the purpose of your trip to Paris?”
When i say business, he stops, startled probably because i look far too young and way too dishelved to be travelling on the company dime.
“What do you do?”
“I’m a software engineer”
“Really?” he says with a bit too much interest. “How long have you been here?”
“Since august this time i say. i’m starting to feel like i’m in a bar now.
“Wow, four months?”
“Umm no – from August to October. That’s 2 months.”
“Where do you stay?”
“I have an apartment here”. Usually i’ve at least been offered a drink at this point.
“Oh, so you’re coming back?”
“Yeah”. Ok the line is seriously starting starting to back up behind me now.
“When?”
“10 days”
“Hmm..”
I’m kind of half expecting him to ask me if i want to get a drink maybe a coffee and ask for my number. I start to stifle a laugh.
“Hmm..” pause, “Ok, have a nice trip”
I laugh anyway.
Next is a rubber gloved man who feels around in my luggage. I’m trying to think what he could be feeling for. I’m happy with myself for finally graduating to the level of adulthood where you pack nicely folded. I haven’t reached the point, where i do that on the way back though. I’m still a mess on my way back. I’ll have to keep this in mind next time.
The ticketing agent is short and sweet. Then an interminble line through passport control. Another one through the metal detector. This time the lady stops and asks you questions.
“Have you left your carry-on’s alone at anytime, etc etc.
And then, “Have you anything that could be used as a weapon?” Now what exactly are they trying to prevent with this set? “Ok you got me. Actually i have concealed a weapon, but since you’ve asked, you win”.
Boarding finally, almost an hour late. Another badge, another set of questions. Mostly about aboutv the bags again. I am asked to take off my sunglasses. hey that’s kinda cool, i think.
I really ought to be in bed as i have to get up way early to allow for time to be scanned and probed before getting on a plane to new york tomorrow morning. WooHoo! Finally.
But i’m not sleeping cause i’m all jittery about it actually. Jittery to go to work on wall street by the “smoking pits” as they keep being called. Jittery to see everyone. Jittery about a lot of things. Jittery about my halloween costume that will have to somehow materialize in no time at all. Jittery. Jittery. Jittery. Jittery because i have far too many electronic appliances in my carry ons. Will i be recognized as the petty techno-bourgeois i am? or mistaken for some sort of well-disguised terrorist?
What can i say? A lot actually, but i’m too jittery to say it.
I think my upstairs neighbor might be stomping on her floor/my ceiling as a signal for me to turn my music down. This seems to be happen, oddly enough, right at the same time i’m turning it down to got out or go to bed. Lucky for us. Unless of course they’re actually just bouncin to my bumpin beats…
Other newsworthy facts:
The chills, puking, etc have passed
I still can’t really eat
I have a slight nausea
and…
F O U R days till i’m back in brooklyn! Yoweee!
i got incredibly ill on friday night. Awful puking, diarrhea, chills, aching ill. Janine was staying with me and i was at first thinking i had some sort of freak monster period cramps so i stayed in bed praying it might go away, but then when everything that i had eaten or drank that day “went away”, it dawned on me that something was very wrong with me. Finally at 4am when i just couldn’t take it anymore i woke her up like this:
“Janine? Janine? I’m really sorry but i think i’m going to die.”
I layed on her bed for awhile wondering if it would get better. I had two sips of water and the promptly threw that up as well. I had to see someone. But doing this in french was a daunting task. I imagined sitting in a french hospital dying while nurses and doctors smoked cigarettes and made fun of my lousy accent. It had gotten to that point, tho, where i was going to die.
We finally found an emergency number and the woman was pretty nice and first asked if she should send a doctor to my house, but i thought she said was there a doctor in my house. So i said “no”. After some more fuddling i realized my mistake and said “yes! yes! send a doctor over!” In 20 minutes a well-dressed (and kind of hot) doctor was telling me i had a stomach virus that was going around. He gave me some scrips and a shot my bum. It was 500 FRF (about 70 USD) all reimbursable by social security i think. Wow. Whoever is going around saying socialized medicine is poor quality is total liar.
I slept pretty much all day yesterday and am finally beginning to feel like a normal person again today, except for this mild persistent queasiness. There’s this awful chalky medicine for my stomach that i’m supposed to be taking thrice daily, but it’s really hard to drink. According to the packaging i can also take it rectally. Firstly, no way. And secondly i cannot imagine how since it comes in a package of powder. Huh? It was raining and nasty all day yesterday and this morning but has turned out to be sunny and i am considering taking a stroll or something. Maybe a movie, that’s good non-exertion activity. I still can’t seem to eat so i’m a bit worried about dizziness. Actually in the middle of the night on friday, after the doc left, i got up to pee and knew i was about to faint so i decided to make a break for it and just run into bed but had pretty much blacked out and ran headfirst into the window. That woke me up and then i fell over into bed.
A Japanese firm is launching a metal-free bra in response to tighter airport security procedures…
Apparently this is a concern, says my mom, who’s bra hooks set off the snazzed-up metal detectors at SFO a few weeks ago. I am sticking to the ultimate in comfort and support Banana Republic’s Stretch Cotton Bra Camisole. Those shits rock. Ladies get ‘em in bulk.
It’s kind of amusing that on the cover of Zurban this week (Zurban is a weekly entertainment guide to Paris. I wouldn’t say it’s really cutting edge, but it’s decent).. Any way on the cover this week is the headline, “La vie en Solo”. Translation: The Single Life. This is amusing because in new york a headline like this would be… well… redundant.
But in my continuing role as an inquisitive cultural anthropologist here among the natives, i have learned something about Paris:
Like no one is single here.
I find it very very strange probably because i come from a city where just saying you’re “seeing” so-and-so is enough to make a person ancy. I know like 4 people who are in committed relationships in nyc, and probably two out of those will make it past the holidays (always the annual killer of relationships-not-meant-to-be). And here i know one person who’s single. Weird! Once i come up with a completely bullshit and simplistic theory explaining it all, i’ll let ya know post haste!
In the mean time, i actually kind of like being single here because it feels like an act of rebellion or something. Much the same way being attached feels rebellious in nyc. Also in the same way that if, come july, i still won’t be able to express anything in other than the present tense in french then i will have committed the *ultimate* act of rebellion! Ha-ha!
you convinced?
Anoyone out there own this:
Jimi Hendrix : BBC Sessions [LIVE] ?
It sounds kinda like i *must* buy it, but it’s a bit pricey at $23.72. Any opinions?
Meanwhile check out some later stevie doin his thang —> and down a bit.
New Angeles Monthly, June 2008
Weekend America, March 30, 2008
Los Angeles Times, March 13, 2008
Los Angeles Times, March 6, 2008
Nil by Mouth is written by Neille Ilel. Neille is a writer, reporter and user interface specialist in Los Angeles. If you think that's a lot, she's also got a host of meandering sidelines including improv comedy, tennis, cooking, drawing and thinking about learning to play the guitar.
Nil is her given name. It's a long story.
E-mail her here:
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