we were fated to pretend

Last Saturday, I strapped a 4.5 foot douglas fir to my backup bike (a 1967 Mercier SS).  Unfortunately I had to walk the bike back, not quite enough space to ride.

Boerum Hill. At least 3-4 cats live in this lot, but they seem to manage to not miss meals.

Erica and Constantine joined Jenn and I for some chicken and orzo over at our place Sunday night, and we managed to burn through a whole, previously-unopened bottle of Jameson over dinner.  Perhaps that’s not as large of a feat as I’m thinking, but it certainly seemed exceptional at the time (and the following morning).

I had nothing to do with this shot, taken of my parents before I was born, but it does happen to be a favorite of mine.  The seventies hairstyles, the composition, colors, crispness, and the general Motorcycle Diaries (2004)-feel seem perfect.

4th Avenue near downtown Brooklyn.

• I did take to trying out a ninja-style balaclava to and from work the other day when the temperature began to dip.  As it turns out, those things are no joke: I actually think they’d enable one to ride a bike around Antarctica even, with how warm they keep one’s face.  However, I’ve got a feeling you’d get arrested for bringing a balaclava anywhere near an airport.

• But speaking of winter riding, someone the other day did say, “life’s too short to not ride what you’ve got,” within the context of riding one’s main, prized steel bicycle throughout the duration of a salted-road winter (as opposed to also possessing a dedicated “ice bike”).  And, while the statement can possibly be immediately dismissed as cliche, I do think it’s the best way to operate, and is arguably more rockstar than trying to be all delicate with your utilitarian items.  Stuff is just stuff, own it.

• My friend (and former classmate) Sharvin got a short writeup in the News & Observer here for a recent job change/promotion.  Big ups on continuing to advance stuff.

• In case you were curious, here’s the full gallery of wedding shots from my friends’ (Kathleen & Tom) celebration a little over a month ago.  The delay is due to the couple finally returning from an island off the coast of India, plus the ordering of prints.

• While unrelated to New York, I doubt Winehouse can make it many more years.  Things aren’t looking so hot these days, and those YouTube clips were several years ago at the point, even.

Pamela and Marta joined Jenn and I to catch Opening Night over at the Harvey, with some crazy, on-stage seating comp tickets I had.  The majority of the audience was in the normal seating area, but we got to sit on a set of seats mixed in with actors, and surprising close to the onstage nudity and such.  The performance was based on John Cassevetes’ film of the same name.  It was a little strange to see a play in Dutch, but subtitles were broadcast in several places.  Afterward, we had a few drinks down the street at Moes.

On Degraw Street, at an area I was told was once a secret spot for rampant prostitution, but has now been significantly cleaned up.

Evidence of the weather turning a little cooler outside. Also, further evidence that littering never went out of style in this town.