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Welcome My name is Tess. I'm a 9-5 New Yorker and traveler. My hobbies include destroying suitcases, photo-bombing tourists in Times Square, and taking long romantic ADHD walks around the globe. Welcome!

Sep 6, 2011

Bumping,Grinding & Bullets

"Why can't we just bump and wind down the damn parkway?






Labor Day Monday marked the 44th anniversary of the *famous* West Indian Day Parade in Crown Heights; Brooklyn, New York.......But guns?


Every Year Canadians and Floridians of Caribbean descent neglect paying their bills to ensure they can afford the trip to New York to take part in this famed event.
Every Year women and men go broke spending hundreds of dollars on elaborate costumes in order to play mas alongside floats representing the greater and lesser Antilles islands.
 Every Year more than 3 million people come out to see the feathered and sequined bikini clad bodies that come grinding down the Eastern Parkway accompanied by some of the most popular reggae & soca artists.
And nearly Every Year someone gets shot.

One news report reads that three people were shot after the parade, four during the parade, and four others including one fatal in East Flatbush. This includes a police officer as well as children and the arrest of a city councilman. 

Several years back the sale or consumption of alcohol was banned from the parade because it only added to the mayhem that ensued with the large crowds. But gun control is a tricky and far more complicated issue

Acts of violence and violent behavior have become a regular part of this famous parade. Not two consecutive years have passed in the last decade where a violent act, usually involving gun play, hasn't occurred. And fatalities aren't that uncommon.  

So why not make this year the last year for the parade and pull the plug on the festivities? Probably because the city of New York would lose the millions of dollars in tourism revenue that the West Indian Day parade earns annually.

So for now parade goers can continue to bask in the revelry - but watch out for those bullets.

Sep 1, 2011

Concrete Jungle Where Dreams Are Robbed Of!

Apartment Share (n ;) When the primary owner of an apartment robs the incoming roommate out of a ridiculous amount of money every month so that the primary owner can get over like a fat rat


 2011 Mermaid Parade on Coney Island
Brooklyn, NY




Yesterday [someone] met an English woman who had come to the U.S. with nothing but her talent in tow.  This English woman followed her dreams of being a singer which led her to the Big Apple. Four years later she has a beautifully decorated condo in NY - that [someone] wanted to rent a room in.  

From the moment they met it was like a roommate love story. They clicked right away. They shared common interests, upbringing a love for socializing, getting occasionally sloppy drunk, museums, live bands and much more.  The two ladies went on a long stroll around the neighborhood at sunset and fell in roommate love while gazing at the Hudson along the Harlem River Drive. [Someone] was even speaking with a newfound British accent by the end of their three hour conversation. 

It would've been like living with a pal - rather two because there was another Britt renting there as well. She visualized the good times the three would share; lazy evenings around the living room, sharing meals and adventures. Getting piss drunk over $4 shots of cheap liquor & laughing obnoxiously over inside jokes. And most importantly, always having someone to talk to and come home to. No more living alone, but living single in a collective.  

 And although the bedroom with its turquoise walls was a tight fit, she quickly realized that her new roommates were everything she wanted and more - less like strangers & more like buddies who wanted to be sure you “phoned” if you were coming home late so they’d know you were safe. And being from a tight-knit suburban family, well, that's just what she needed coming to the big city for the first time - to live and not just commute 9-5.   

But then it happened - they discussed costs.  The incoming renter [someone] knew from the ad on Craig’s list that it was a "Pricey" place. But if she fell in love, she was willing to spend at the top of her budget. So when she found out that it would cost nearly $2300.00 to move in – (2.5 times the monthly rent.) She became nauseous, the turquoise colored room went black and her heart began to break.

 And as fast as she fell in love, she began to fall out just as fast. They both began to realize that their cohabitating dreams were quickly dissolving and that there was little way to salvage their relationship without coughing up $2300.00 in greenbacks.

They returned to the apt. The incoming renter petted the dog goodbye. She told the Englishwoman that she would "Sleep on it" and give her a call the next day. They looked at each other knowingly but promised to stay in touch. They shared an affectionate hug (one that would normally be shared between old friends) And as she walked down the bright red walls of the long hallway she realized that this opportunity may never come again. But  between school fees and day-to-day living she would be broke if she took the room.   

No [someone] is not currently sleeping on park benches in Washington Square Park - although that would be very close to her school. And she did not send an inquiry to the creepy "Cat guy" from the previous post. But she is currently drowning her sorrows with $4 shots of soco-lime and Goldschlager liquer at GROOVE in the west villiage.

Tchau Bambini