ok, here’s the deal. next week, the managers at my apartment complex are conducting their annual inspection. which, in the past, has happened every three years. however, last year we got new managers, and they apparently take the annual part seriously. my building will be inspected on tuesday.
you know what this means. yes. exactly. i have to clean. everyone loves it when i whine about cleaning. i think the last time i had to clean the apartment, it was for bookclub. and i got out of that. so god only knows when the last time the entire place has been clean. all of it. probably last year’s annual inspection. or when i was recovering from sugery last sept, because i remember my mom cleaning a lot while i took drugs.
anyway, what would a weekend of cleaning my fucked up apartment be if i didn’t cry about it online, while in the midst? you would be disppointed. you’d be let down. you’d think i’d forsaken you, dear internet friends. i haven’t.
Response to Peg: i checked the tardblog, and it’s still there. maybe it was down the day you last visited? or maybe the tards are just out to get you? can’t trust those tards.

in my vast new york city experience, times square is highly overrated. in fact, a little times square goes a long long way. at first you area all, “gee! new york, man! broadway!!” but if you spend a few days in times square, if you stay there, you’ll get sick of it fast. it’s not indicative of new york in general. and it smells. and after a couple of days, i found myself becoming violently polite, in order to illicit some manners from people. i also found myself become less polite in some situations.
case in point, the cheezy souvenir store. i had a dr. pepper in my hand, because it was a bazillion degrees with 1027% humidity… of course i have a bev. anyway, i start to walk into a cheezy souvenir store, with the tshirts that are obviously made by tiny pre-pubescent fingers, in some third-world sweatshop somewhere, and there is a man guarding the door. and as i walk through, he says, “no drink. No Drink! NO DRINK!” because i might damage the fine merchandise by ripping the lid off my soda pop and spilling it all over the racks of tshirts. and i thought, who the hell are YOU to make me choose between shopping – and surviving the summer heat? no one, that’s who. you are NO ONE of import or authority in MY life to dictate my drinking habits. so i simply said back to him, “fine, then. no purchase. No Purchase. NO PURCHASE!”
my other problem? the people who did not acknowledge you were purchasing anything from them. somehow, they maintained a sense of denial that they were helping the public, by not interacting with them at all. by friday i was getting in their faces and saying “THANK YOU!!” just to see them flinch.
but you know what i like? greenwich village. that place RULES!! in fact, i like every other single place i went in new york. well, with the exception of chinatown. chinatown can KISS MY ASS! but that’s another story for another day.