whoa

you know, maybe I shouldn't move back to New York. I'm not saying I'm likely to end up like this guy, but I did hang out at the Indonesian Consulate on the Upper East Side quite a bit when I lived there (owing to gamelan rehearsals, complete with blonde, white, suburban housewives who spoke fluent Javanese).

Given the fact that I was about five blocks away when that chick got bricked in 1999 (while on my lunch hour--I worked about seven blocks away on Madison and 35th), and that a woman was knifed walking out of the subway stop I always used at a time when I usually walked out of it, it's all a little too close for comfort. But then, NYC is sometimes just that way--I can't think of another place where I would run into my 6th-grade teacher from Boulder, Colorado on the one time I would take the D train to the Bronx to see a Yankees game, nor where I would find myself living a block away from my Head Resident from college and about five blocks away from the respective homes of about seven a capella singers, nor where I would just run into Yoko Ono while shopping for used classical CDs.