Jean!!!! You keep going m.i.a on me!!! Argghhh!!!
Yes I know. I feel bad, AGAIN.. It’s the last week of this album and everything has been retarded, so it’s fantastically hard for me to keep up with all the things I’m supposed to do at once. Plus, birthday weekend, which falls after Thanksgiving, redecoration of apartment…..shoot. A clone? Puhleeeeeze???
This morning, well… as I’m a complete insomniac and sometimes stay up for 2 days at a time, I’m not really sure if it was morning or not. Could’ve been 2pm…I digress…
I drift in and out of sleep with the distinct feeling that there’s something either staring at me, or in the room with me. This, is very, very creepy due to the fact that I live alone. I sit up, look around, nothing. I keep doing this for about an hour or so until I start to hear what sounds like tap dancing on sandpaper coming from the ceiling. LOUDLY. Then LOUDER. For about 4 hours. I remember my old roommate saying that she used to hear either raccoons or squirrels, pretty much having a conference, followed by a dance party on the roof. Since I have been in that room for a month and haven’t heard a damn thing, I though, “eh…I guess that was a summertime thing and I won’t hear it..” or.. “They’re gone.” Ummm, yeah .. No.
It was fucking infuriating. Then or course, somehow they move (I don’t know how) to the side window and begin having a heated debate over something in extremely loud screechy tones. For another 2 hours.
I love Brooklyn. I do. I however, grew up in the middle of Manhattan. We had 1 tree on the block. We did NOT play in the street, we didn’t have a stoop. I dreamt of people in backyards and barbeques and all the things I would see in movies but never experienced.
When I moved to Brooklyn, I first lived in Clinton Hills. Then, quite different, no Connecticut Muffin to be seen. It was, oh .. 1997?? I think.. 1996?? I have no idea. But, I was in love. Sitting on a stoop??? Tree lined blocks???!?!?! For me, it was suburbia. It still is, to a certain degree.. I didn’t factor in the wildlife issue, I just never thought of it.
Mice? Yeah. Water bugs, roaches? Sure. Ummm, anything LARGE and FURRY that was not a domestic animal, save for the super size subway rats…. NO.
I’ve gotten used to the wide variety of insects that we never had in Manhattan. The spiders, the random “What the fuck is that??” striped, dotted or ridiculously fast crawling bug. I kill them, eh. That’s it.
A raccoon on my ceiling is a different story. It also sounds like the name of a terrible hipster band.
I hate them.
Fucking raccoons. Fuck off.
Yes I know. I feel bad, AGAIN.. It’s the last week of this album and everything has been retarded, so it’s fantastically hard for me to keep up with all the things I’m supposed to do at once. Plus, birthday weekend, which falls after Thanksgiving, redecoration of apartment…..shoot. A clone? Puhleeeeeze???
This morning, well… as I’m a complete insomniac and sometimes stay up for 2 days at a time, I’m not really sure if it was morning or not. Could’ve been 2pm…I digress…
I drift in and out of sleep with the distinct feeling that there’s something either staring at me, or in the room with me. This, is very, very creepy due to the fact that I live alone. I sit up, look around, nothing. I keep doing this for about an hour or so until I start to hear what sounds like tap dancing on sandpaper coming from the ceiling. LOUDLY. Then LOUDER. For about 4 hours. I remember my old roommate saying that she used to hear either raccoons or squirrels, pretty much having a conference, followed by a dance party on the roof. Since I have been in that room for a month and haven’t heard a damn thing, I though, “eh…I guess that was a summertime thing and I won’t hear it..” or.. “They’re gone.” Ummm, yeah .. No.
It was fucking infuriating. Then or course, somehow they move (I don’t know how) to the side window and begin having a heated debate over something in extremely loud screechy tones. For another 2 hours.
I love Brooklyn. I do. I however, grew up in the middle of Manhattan. We had 1 tree on the block. We did NOT play in the street, we didn’t have a stoop. I dreamt of people in backyards and barbeques and all the things I would see in movies but never experienced.
When I moved to Brooklyn, I first lived in Clinton Hills. Then, quite different, no Connecticut Muffin to be seen. It was, oh .. 1997?? I think.. 1996?? I have no idea. But, I was in love. Sitting on a stoop??? Tree lined blocks???!?!?! For me, it was suburbia. It still is, to a certain degree.. I didn’t factor in the wildlife issue, I just never thought of it.
Mice? Yeah. Water bugs, roaches? Sure. Ummm, anything LARGE and FURRY that was not a domestic animal, save for the super size subway rats…. NO.
I’ve gotten used to the wide variety of insects that we never had in Manhattan. The spiders, the random “What the fuck is that??” striped, dotted or ridiculously fast crawling bug. I kill them, eh. That’s it.
A raccoon on my ceiling is a different story. It also sounds like the name of a terrible hipster band.
I hate them.
Fucking raccoons. Fuck off.
posted by Jean Grae at 8:54 AM
9 comments
