it's fall in 10014

how do i know? it fell into the 50s last night, and i don't have hot water this morning. happy monday!

i'm calling my 'super' today and demanding the indolent piece of shit address the radiator that hasn't worked in the five years i've lived here. smartness told me, when the building was bought this summer, that the landlord was going to go through each apartment and tally what needed to be fixed / replaced / destroyed and move on accordingly. do you suppose, my loyal readers, that this happened? of course not.

do you think the exterminator comes every first friday of the month? nah. are our apartments repainted every three years? hell no. i'm going to simon bolivar my fellow flophouse residents and take this place back! i'm going to demand backyard access! i'm going to demand a color other than swamp gas green for the hallways! i'm going to demand lighting fixtures that aren't circular and florescent!

they will name a country after me, too! but first, where is the fucking hot water?!?!

uptalkers? ride my last?

fucking nerve?

stupidly went to the beacon's closet in williamsburg today ('billyburg!'), and tried on no fewer than twelve fabu wouldntbeabletoaffordotherwise garments. nothing fit. nothing. AAAAND, got in a dressing room next to 'walker?' some androgynous skank uptalker... you know uptalkers: people who end every sentence as if it were a question?

walker? is from ohio? (shocker) with a skank-stank that would make coco chanel scream out, 'for the love of all things sacred, there is no need to wear all three of your duane reade-purchased "perfumes" at the same time!' but, instead, i got a mild migraine, nothing fit. and i had to listen to 'walker?' talk to 'shoe-shoe' about each garment SHE had. 'i know my boobs aren't big? but a BOY top? you're so SIL-LAY? shoe-shoe? you're kuh-ray-zee? in kuh-leev-land, this place would be so kewlllll?' i really thought i'd lose my shit on this isitaboyoragirl-person. she had noooooooooothing to say, and she was so loud about it. when her oh-so-cool cel kept going off 'YOU'RE BEAUTIFUL, YOU'RE BEAUTIFUL, YOU'RE BEAUTIFUL, IT'S TRUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE' (out of place song, no? especially since hipsters don't listen to z100, do they?), i'd knock my elbow into the wall each time, both emitting sound and groaning, but walker? didn't get it. 'what? i can't hear you? the chick next to me bumped the wall?' *THWAK* 'what? v-dog? v-dog?'

finally, i took advantage of the shit curtains at b.c. and when i passed her room to look at the mirror, i kind of slowed a bit and looked in a tad. on the way back to the fitting room, she was coming out. i winked at her, and her little 22-year-old-self was so apparently freaked out, she whispered to shoe-shoe and they left. i was only on garment five, aaahhhh.

i'm sooooooooooooooooo going to hell.