June 22, 2000.  Thursday
 
 

 
    It's around 10:30 am, and I'm killing time before I can go move my car to a more desirable parking spot at 11.  I just got back from the East Village, where I dropped off Rodzilla.  She's going up to some camp her school is running up at Lake Placid for three weeks.  I met some of the people, and felt immediately uncomfortable.  There were some fourteen year-old latinas standing around, waiting to board the van, and gawking.  And the head Sister of the school seemed kind of uncomfortable when meeting me as well.  So I got out of there real quick like.

    Anyhow, I've spent most of the week actually doing stuff for school. On monday, I had to go on a ride along with my photojournalism prof, who's a photographer for the New York Daily News.  We didn't do much.  We mostly sat around or drove around, waiting for something to happen. the only pictures he took were of Mick Jagger's girlfriend coming out of Family Court, where she was suing for more child support.  Swell.  She wasn't even all that attractive.  And i got one picture before my camera broke. it took me two more rolls of wasted film and an unecessary new battery to figure out what the problem was.

    I've spent the last two afternoons on and around the Roosevelt Island Tramway, taking pictures for class.  Some are actually pretty good if I do say so myself.  After doing that, I had to endure the tedious task of shopping with a girl for not just shoes, but bathing suits.  If they're two things I hate doing with girls, it's shopping for shoes and shopping for bathing suits.  So many goddam things to try on.  The shoes leg of the trek wasn't so bad.  The bathing suit required us to go all over the city.  She needs one for camp, and it's kind of a catholic setting, so she was looking for something conservative, perhaps the dreaded one-piece. And of course, she's not gonna find one that she thinks she looks allright in.  So after going to J Crew, Speedo, the Gap, Old Navy, and another J Crew, the mission was finally accomplished.  But that wasn't even the worst part about yesterday, or even the second worst part.  When I went to pick up my film, I discovered that one of the rolls was just one picture of that blasted Mick Jagger's freakin' model girlfriend.  So somewhere I lost a roll of film that has a third of my photo story on it.  Then, I had to rush home to meet someone checking out the spare room in my apartment. Normally, it's about a half hour trip from Soho to Park Slope.  Of course,  I made the mistake of taking the N train. Silly me, even though it's the "express" train on the N-R line.  I swear to God, it's the slowest transportation i've even been on.  I could've found three Ethiopians or something to carry me on their backs and it woulda been cheaper and quicker.  I hate when I fucking rush someplace, only to have it be for nothing. So I got here in about 50 minutes, and I just missed this girl.  Luckily Jed was here to show her the place.  Of course, when I asked what she was like, or what she looked like, etc., all I got was "I don't know. She was nice."  I was already so fucking pissed off at the world, and her wasn't helping.  All I wanted to know was what this broad looked like, because I was sure I was passing her as I walked from the subway, so I made sure to catalogue every girl that passed by.  But he could provide absolutelt no non-generic information.  I was like "Was this person even here?!"   He was later able to recall some more details, and I simmered down a bit.

    So most Rodzilla-related affairs seem to be OK.  I was a little concerned last week, but things seem to be stabilized.  She's kind of, I don't know.  Hands off?  Depends on your definition.  I think.  Anyhow, it was a pleasant, if not inexpensive, week.   We didn't find out till Tuesday that she had to leave today, so we didn't get to do a lot of stuff we were planning on, and the last few days have been really rushed and stressful.  And I so need a source of new money.  But I might have some progress on the job front. I hope. It's not certain yet.  My resume has a good record of doing me in.  Well, gotta move the car.  this is kind of boring anyhow.
 
 
 

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