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Can you believe this perfect place is only a stone’s throw from stinky manhattan? I went today to get some pictures taken of my person, and not only will I have some ‘yay, internet, look at me!’s’ but I also really appreciated just getting to be in a park on a Wednesday morning.

Also will maybe build a tree / lakehouse here.

I’m back in business! After last summer’s untimely kidnappings of both Tony AND Roberta, I was bike-less for a bit. Well, I had this guy (given to Steve by a friend?) but it pretty much stayed in the basement with flat tires, collecting dust. Today, I got it all fixed up. Pedestrians: watch your back!

Today under the BQE there is an old car parade show competition thing! Very exciting.  I was running through and had to pause for a couple to pass. They looked at me like I was insane for this ‘running’ and my time would be much better spent sitting inside of an old car and making it ‘Vroom.’ (Seriously though, some of them where really amazing – straight out of the 50s (or: Back to the Futures 1 and 2), exposed engines, funny pet names airbrushed across the hood, and funnier owners. There were also Tshirts, and portapotties.)

As are its non-volcanic ash clouds.

Brooklyn is extremely large, and I live in a tiny part of it. In a place as large as Brooklyn, it is actually possible to be a tourist in your OWN HOME, complete with straw hat, guide book and enthusiasm.

So: we today we explored more of it, venturing to a neighborhood which boasts the largest collection of Victorian houses in the country. Kensington, I think? A hike from the last stop on the G. Some cared for, some a bit run-down, but all beautiful.  It’s completely unreal, and doesn’t feel like Brooklyn at all! (Where are the feral cats? Where are the projects?? The dilapidated bogeda’s??? The bike shops?? WHERE. AM. I.)

Our hike was rewarded with DiFara’s pizza in Midwood, which Steve insisted was worth the hour wait. I was a bit skeptical. Personally, I can’t imagine any edible being worth all the standing around. But I stand corrected.

Our magic pie featured olives, mushrooms and fresh basil: and was lovingly prepared by an old guy who makes each pie, one by one, 7 hours a day, six days a week, as he’s been doing for 40 years. What’s his secret? I think it’s either the anticipation of watching and waiting for your own as the line grows, as you fight for a table; or it might be the buckets of olive oil he italian-ly drizzles on the pie, with Love.

I can’t wait to see where we staycay next!

 This famous williamsburg joint just re-opened, and it was Sarah and Scott’s grand idea to take Steve there for dinner for his last night in Brooklyn. And grand it was. We shoved perfect fried chicken, biscuits, collared greens, hush puppies, mac n cheese with hot sauce, slaw, AND banana cream AND peanut butter pie into our proverbial pie-holes.

While we ate, Steve showed us his senior year of high school pictures, Sarah told a tale of the origin of hush puppies,  we all re-counted funny Steve stories, and Anne continued to amaze us with her incredible appetite matched with her cute little frame (I think it’s the 10,000 miles she swims every day?)

And now, for some entirely unflattering pictures of us eating things!

Oh,  Anne.

Last night, Dylan and I were delighted to spend some quality time with our inner old people with a rousing game of BINGO!!! (In a bar.) The game announcer, who I am 97% sure was Hurley from lost, took his sweet time in between letter/ number calling – partially to stretch the game out; partially to watch Canada beat someone in something. And so, it became really exciting. And then, you guys. You guys. I WON. I WON!!!!!!!!!!!!!! (a shot of tequila.)

In Greenpoint, Brooklyn, where Steve abodes, one will find a little Poland. In this place, cabbages are stuffed with meat, meat is stuffed with meat, and vegetables are canned but weirdly good; Pierogi are stuffed with cheese / potatoes / kraut, beers are giant. Do not worry about eating for the next 3-5 days.

The iphone makes a person his/her own photo-journalist of his/her own life, which is pretty fun. So, with no further ado: Did I ever mention that I live across the street from the projects?….which I totally love.Also, there are public gardens for hispanic birthday parties / free basil / oregano:And friendly, paranoia-inducing memorials.

Today, some folks from the L magazine came by my pad to take some pictures of me ‘in action’ for an upcoming feature on young artists (HURRAY! I am still young! yes? yes.) I wasn’t sure what sort of ‘action’ they find, sides me holed up in front of my computer with a glass of white wine and pages of illegible rehearsal notes, the baby kitty reigning over all. They suggested we venture to a place outside of the apt where I like to write, so I took them to Bushwick county Country Club where I love to go to work when I want to get out of le apartment. We were delighted to find that, as soon as we arrived, the owner of the joint himself (a super-nice guy who is, at his young age, already semi-retired) offered us the remnants of an afternoon BBQ – oysters in the half shell, ribs, burgers, tater salad, etc. After a few shots of me / computer / PBR ( I know. I know. Just fulfilling the stereotype) we dined. Oh, we dined. Oh, generosity; Oh, Brooklyn. I like both of you. (Pictures forthcoming.)