Last weekend: dinner with Cat at Angelica Kitchen, followed by Ted Leo/Obits/Screaming Females show; a long, tipsy cab ride home with Stefan (and that’s why I don’t live in this neighborhood, the cab ride home, now I remember); a kick-ass Kundalini class; high-speed driving adventures that took me to a champagne brunch; a night in all alone, at last, bliss; a five-year-old’s birthday party complete with plenty of five-year-olds; and then, finally, a nice walk around the park.
The other reason why I could not live here is that everyone I know lives here and I don’t think I would ever write a word. If I had access to Rosie Schaap every day I would be sitting at the bar with her watching soccer all of World Cup, because she is the best person in the world to sit at a bar with and I don’t even LIKE bars. I run into people constantly on the street here, like, twice a day. I never see anyone I know in Williamsburg (or if I do, we respectuflly wave and nod and then move on) and I like that just fine. It sounds a ridiculous thing to say given what everybody thinks about the neighborhood, but I appreciate my isolation in Williamsburg.
For now, though, it has been fun seeing practically everyone I know in New York in a week. I am enjoying it.
And trying to forget that I am not getting much work done.
