locked out & hungry.

"im having none of this," last fall, courtesy n.

"fuck i love whisky, and whisky makes me love you too," june, courtesy kat (on r).

after spending embarassingly large chunks of saturday locked out (hanging out in the kitchen in pjs, considering the so-close-yet-so-far-ness of my keys, mobile, and wallet, any one of which would have allowed me an alternative method of entering my room, but alas). luckily, with a little duct tape, copper wire, and battery-less drill, i managed to re-insert myself into one VERY unwilling bedroom. --very luckily, since neither of my roommates seems to have returned home at any point between then & now, so thats at least 48 hours of milling in the hallway, bonding with the roaches. god damn, the roaches.

new york is hungry, endlessly hungry, the already superhumid air sucking up ever more (im used to saturation, the air already smug & satisfied, dishes and laundry and sweat dripping for hours, but it seems not even the turbocharged fire hydrants can give enough, tires sitting in running pools well into the hubcaps), the risks take-able, the capacity - whats a few hundreds? - liquid, and the AC is amazing. just amazing.