2001-05-17 - 4:29 p.m.
So it looks like I am now in the apartment brokering business. A friend of mine just bought a place in the East Village, and is getting ready to vacate his current place in Chelsea. For those non-New Yorkers, here's the deal. If you vacate an apartment, the landlord can raise the rent to market value. (this is what happened to my apartment, of course) However, if you do a legal sublet, they can only raise the rent something like 6%. Then, after two years, if the original tenant doesn't come back, the lease goes directly into the new tenant's name, at the current rent. So, looking to thwart the greedy money-grubbing NY landlords, my friend told me about his apartment, and how he wanted it to be someone he knew, however tenuously. So tonight I'm going to bring my boyfriend's sister over to see it, and if she doesn't take it, I'm going to bring over my houseman. I actually love the whole connection thing, the way people can, by making the slightest effort, open doors for other people. I've been on the receiving end so often, and I like to be able to pass it along.Speaking of my houseman, we had a party at P's the other night for the birthdays of a few of our friends. He planted his terrace, and had candles and lanterns, and a fire in the fireplace. It was really great, although I bailed out before midnight since it was a Tuesday. Anyway, my houseman (see earlier entries) was there as well, and I had a good laugh watching some girl try to chat him up. Not only because he's clearly gay, but because she was trying to flatter him by telling him he reminded her of "one of those preppy Latino boys from the 50's. You know, like a West Side Story type." I was biting the inside of my lip to keep from laughing, and Raoul was clearly horrified, although much too polite to let on.
And I got a little quality time with Brad, and a few other friends, and we all talked about how P had brought us all together, how unselfishly he melds his friends and watches as new friendships form. So that was all good.
Last night I went to the drugstore to pick up some stuff, and as I approached the counter, the people working there were discussing pot. Trees, they called it. And the cashier was talking about how the government won't legalize it because it will take money away from pharmaceuticals. So I was laughing to myself, and she turned to include me in her tirade.. "I'm not kiddin ya, girl. I'm from the Virgin Islands, and let me tell ya, when I was a chile my grandmudda would open da window, pull the leaves off da tree, and brew it up in a kettle 'till the water turn green, put some sugah in dere, and give it to us. And da next day, your cold, your pains ---gone. Jus' like dat!" I just cracked up. And got a visual of a bunch of little kids, with that beautiful accent, laying around the islands all stoned. Heh.
I also got a little reward after all my bitching about how long everything takes in this city. I got home last night and my phone was dead. Called, and they told me the technician would be out today between 8am and 7pm.... um, hello? Surely you can be a little more specific? I figured I'd just go to work, and if they needed to get into the apartment I'd reschedule. But this morning, as I'm just about to get dressed, the buzzer rings and it's the repairman. Who came in, fixed the jack (which was about a hundred years old) and left. BEFORE 9 am. Miraculous.
In other news, SOMEONE has offered to make me a journal layout. Someone awesome. Ok, so I begged. But still, she was so nice about it. So maybe someday soon, this will actually look like something. And after she does it, maybe she'll teach me to link to her, so I can give her all the credit.
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last five entries:
done - 2005-09-16
playgroup, my ass - 2005-09-15
late, but heartfelt - 2005-09-13
she lives - 2005-08-18
cheese me - 2005-05-20