i've never really been afraid of new york city. okay, make that new york city crime - i was pretty terrified of times square in a sensory overload kind of way when i vacationed here in '02. the prospect of getting mugged, on the other hand, no. the neighborhoods i frequent are usually so crowded that (with the exception of guys like last summer's serial subway stabber) no one goes to the trouble of committing violent crimes - too many witnesses, too hard to get away. our home turf was a pretty rough area (when my dad worked in hell's kitchen as a college kid, he actually witnessed a murder), but it feels like times have changed. if you don't count the guy, that is, who was shot and killed a block from our apartment on saturday night, on the sidewalk where george had walked home an hour or two earlier. we always tell him to walk safely, ha ha, when he leaves our place, but - what the fuck? the scariest (and most horrible) part of the story is that apparently the murder was a case of mistaken identity: the victim was a father of four who just happened to be walking to his restaurant job at the wrong time. i love living here, and in general i feel much safer than i did when we lived in san francisco (russian hill was snoozeville, but in most parts of the city, if you walked two blocks in the wrong direction it could get very sketchy very quickly), but gah. sometimes i wish we lived in iowa, and/or that we had a george-sized slingshot.

in other, better news, we discovered on saturday that none of us had availed ourselves of the (free) staten island ferry. it's a lovely ride, though there wasn't much to do when we got there; i tried to take sexy photos of the statue of liberty on the way back, but it refused my advances. in other, amazing news, i now have a sewing machine (our wedding present from dave and melissa). it's a mint green kenmore mini ultra, and it is adorable; expect glamour shots soon. as far as i can remember, i've never actually used a sewing machine, so expect frustrated rants about bobbins and walking feet as well. they will be happy frustrated rants, though - in craftnerdland, a machine of one's own is like a personal jet pack.

1 comment:

Baby jo said...

no kidding. perhaps this is a sad turn of events for a young lass such as myself, but i spend my free time with my wonderful machine. i like to pretend that it's getting cold in southern california, and make fuzzy warm blankets accordingly. cheers.