No. Sleep. 'Til Brooklyn.

Oh. my. gawd. I'm here. I'm in New York. I arrived promptly at 5:55am on Tuesday morning after a jetBlue red-eye out of Long Beach airport (which I notice uses LGB as it's call letters - lesbian, gay, bi?) Paid a ridiculous amount for a cab ride to J's house, woke up her unemployed ass and forced her to help me drag my almost-over-the-weight-limit luggage up one flight of stairs before crashing on her couch for 4 hours. Then, woke up, showered, and hauled my ass and assets to my new home. It's like college... a friggin' dorm. Except not. No co-ed showers. Instead, I have my own room and bathroom (key~!). It's a brand new apartment building that the school opened in 2005, and I must say, THE FINEST living quarters I've ever had in my young adult life. Very, very nice. You almost forget you are in Brooklyn. Until you step outside and someone asks you for some change. A little bit of Berkeley nostalgia sets in there.

After moving in, I make a quick trip to Tar-get (the last T is silent). One thing I notice about this place is that everyone has an accent. And it's so unexpected, I think. At least for me. Or maybe I'm the one with the accent? What's up, dude? Brah. Catch a wave... and all that cali surfer talk. I've never even stood on a surfboard. What kind of Californian am I?

<- View from my bedroom window, the 16th floor.


The bed complete with Tar-get bedding ->






<- The bathroom.




My current and future location ->





Beautiful, ain't it? My home for the next year...