Return to the Village

Yesterday, as I was carrying the tenth box of books up the six flights that lead to my new apartment, I had a chance to count all the times I've moved in my life. Since leaving the familial nest, I've inhabited some 18 dwellings, almost two per year. That's a lot of boxes up and down stairs, but I suppose that is the price of being a vagabond of limited means (i.e. gypsy).

As you probably know, I was forced to leave my nice rent subsidized one bedroom this summer due to the shenanigans of the landlord and the subletters. (Well, actually, K was the one who got kicked out. Soz!)

And so I returned to the city homeless, throwing myself on the generosity of my kindly relatives and their lovely boa constrictor.

Finding something that allows one to get down to Princeton in a reasonable time on a grad student stipend is a difficult proposition. There are basically two choices: shithole in a nice location, or middling flat in a middling neighborhood. I have opted more for the former.

I give you: 175 Thompson St.

My room is small. Room for a full-sized bed, some bookshelves, and not much else.

The view is not too spectacular...

The kitchen is quite large by Manhattan standards

The bathroom is not

The living room needs a paint job, but has a pull-out sofa bed for visitors...

So as you can see, the place is a little worse for wear. Fortunately, my new roomie, "Ronny," is on the task. His job to make things fabulous for Ralph Lauren, and he intends to bring those skills to bear on our humble abode. So consider the pictures above a 'before' version.

Going back to living with strangers will be something of an adjustment after a time either having my own place or sharing with someone I knew rather closely, but so far so good.

The best thing about the apartment is, of course, not what it is but where it is. On the border between the Village and Soho. A short subway ride to Penn Station for when I work in Princeton, and an even shorter walk to the NYU library for when I work here.

Washington Square Park, where I'm sitting as I write this, is just up the street

Close to all the restaurant-goodness of the West Village and the bar-goodness of the East Village and Lower East Side. Soho covers shopping. Union Square farmers' market.

Yes, this should be a good place to stay a little while.

Vecchio sporcaccione

Michelle is approach by an old perv at the G20 as Barack looks protective. Hands off!

COMBO

Canadian Fusilier at BAM

Got taken to BAM tonight to see Juliette Binoche--aka Hanna from TEP--dance in a contemporary piece titled "In-I," a melodramatic portrayal of the beauty and tragedy of modern love. This was La Binoche's first attempt at the art form, a fact that was immediately apparent to both the scathing critics at the NYT and your humble blogger.

In other words, it was not good. Not at all. On the one hand, it seems a bit arrogant of JB to suppose that just because she is good at some things (acting, being pretty) she would be good at another thing (dancing). On the other hand, should we not admire her courage for stepping outside her comfort zone and risking ridicule?

Certainly the fans gathered there (including the two former au pairs of the aunt and uncle I'm staying with, which is why I was there) wanted her to succeed, but the fact that she obviously didn't was no obstacle to their enjoyment. For them, failure was as good as success, and maybe even better because it proved just how brave the heroine truly was.

But dilettantism is surely no excuse for incompetence? Consider how well someone else pulled off the Canadian Fusilier look that mademoiselle Binoche became famous for:

No amateurism there.

These are the deep thoughts that emerge from a post-performance pitcher of margaritas at Pacifico, the Mexican restaurant tacked on to the back of the infamous Trout bar.

High on Lines (of urban regeneration)

I took a break from apartment hunting yesterday to stroll down New York's latest park, the Highline.

I've been waiting for this for a while, and finally had a chance to check it out.

Full slideshow here. The project been much hailed as a subtle and tasteful addition to the urban landscape, which it is. Won't bang on about it again here. I was happy to observe, though, is that it's being used by all sorts of people looking to be lifted from the streets to a narrow band of peaceful nature hovering above them.

Seeing good urban projects reminds you how many BAD ones get built. Would that we had more Highlines.

What a summer

One down....

P+M made it a whole year! To celebrate, farmer chic attire, pork, and prosec at Hackney City Farm.

British Gothic.

Frisky farm hands.

Livestock.

I seem to have failed to document the lovely couple themselves, so you'll just have to settle with a photo from the archive, to remember what we were doing about a year ago.

Awww.......