after a weekend with ross and rebecca in brooklyn, with lots of good funtime, eattime, and bedtime, blended with some hope-bubble popping heartsickness, mixed in with some moments of sitka bonding time (sad that i won't see this strange kitty again), i left distracted and tired at about noon, which did not bid very well for my day. it ended up on the surface of things close to alexander's (terrible, horrible, no good, very bad), starting with a $35 parking ticket for some illegible reason, then, nearly to brooklyn bridge, remembering i only have $3 in my wallet, not enough for the exorbitant tolls, and i forgot to look up reverse directions back to philly on the internet. so, i turned into downtown brooklyn, driving around for 15 minutes looking for somewhere to park in the middle of the day that didn't cost $5 for half and hour. eventually i parked on this side street that's open for parking at all times except monday and thursday 11:30-1 pm (and it was 12:30). i thought i could just run across the street to the atm, but i get back 5 minutes later and there's another $35 ticket (i wonder what happens if i don't pay them). so i get into manhattan and feel very lost because i don't see any signs to holland tunnel, but after driving in a circle find the brown sign i was looking for. following lots of traffic out of the city, i have a complete directional lapse and go towards 95 north instead of south for a detour that ended up taking about an hour and the cancelling of the 3:30 appointment i had for looking at apartments. of course all this gave me ample time for listening to music (tom ze, !ab) and mulling over some metaphors and comparisons (the bubbles and sitka-ross), and coming up with a pretty striking design idea for the end of mine and hillary's piece inspired by the image of the flat blue and white cloud sky seen through these holes in the metal of the bridge structure of part of the turnpike (at least seems so right now), and crying a little more over the loss of what were some of my most big blown rainbowy bubbles, which, you know, were not really anything substantial in themselves to begin with, insofar as the future is necessarily insubstantial. poppoppop, get back to some life on the ground...
posted by Liza 29.7.03