Not about packing, or much else

Not talking about packing, or that I'm on box 45. Or that since I can't reach the top shelves of my 13' bookshelf, a guide to the Seychelles and (Masood's favorite), Everything You Ever Wanted to Know about Sex* may pass onto next owner.

Or will scale first thing tomorrow morning.

Morning's commute home from R's on Upper West bookended by a GrayLine double decker sightseeing bus: making its way up Columbus at I stepped into the 72nd Street station, just turning onto 14th as I exited downtown. Other towns surely have tour buses but where else on earth will your journey be attended by one?

On University Place (Staples trip #x), film trailers end-to-end along east side. Via Wardrobe's open-door, appears to be set in 50s. No stars spotted, or crowds gathered, just self-important, smoking 4th rung crew moving things about and, by studiously avoiding eye contact, daring the question: "which film?" I decided to be cool, not care and can therefore report nothing , my dis-interested persona intact.


45 box c

(Picture of pond at Bouwerie, with boat. Apropos of nothing except that I'd rather be there than in this apartment of corrugated canyons.)