Monthly Archives: August 2007

Officially squatting

Squatting bed

I didn’t even know it was my last night in my bed.

I had plans, they changed, and before I knew it was sleeping somewhere else the last night I (thought) I’d be in my apartment. I guess that’s how life works; you have a plan, you have sentiments, but before you can get nostalgic, it’s over and you can’t go back.

My bed is now squatting in my father’s house on Long Island. I, however am squatting all over New York. Long Island, Kip’s Bay, Manhattan. After a prolonged discussion about the perks (and pitfalls) of being a squatter “on sabbatical” it was decided that this was a book deal in the making. Urban girl leaves apartment, house sits for various entertaining characters, documents experience (ie: my month with the drug addled musician in Bushwick, my week with the socialites on the UES, my time with an ethnic family in Queens). Call it Adventures in Housesitting or Tales of a Professional Squatter. Who knows, it might come to that when I come back broke. I wouldn’t be surprised.

In keeping with that theme, here’s what I’ve learned living in places other than my own. First off, people are neater than me. I seem to come into a place like a whirlwind — before you know it magazines, shoes and various electronic equipment are strewn all over the place. I kind of like it, makes me feel at home. Just wondering how much of a “space” I’ll have to throw my stuff about in the hostel.  More like “twin-size bed in a dorm room” if I’m being realistic. Second, it’s amazing how quickly you can adapt. The bed I slept on last night (thanks Peter) was soft, squishy, and adorned with possibly the most comfortable blanket ever. Fantabulous. Next up? My friend Jackie’s guest room in Melbourne!

Third, I everyone has a varying degree of commitment to electronics. Melissa, first destination this week, rocks th DVR, wireless, mini ipod speakers, good ol’ HBO and a small TV. Peter, destination dos, has every cable channel imaginable, wireless and big everything. Jackie, destination tres in Oz, warned me (profusely) she only had three TV channels. “I wanted you to be prepared,” she wrote. Perhaps I should start trying to wean myself now. It probably did not help I watched HBO and Showtime on demand all morning.

More nuggets TK – only a week or so more squatting here in the States, then it’s a whole new ball game!

Hi, my name is Robin, and I’m addicted to the Internet.

Let me preface this by saying I’ve been online (AOL, AIM or some other rendition) since 7th grade. I’ve done the chat room thing; I’ve even met my chat room friends in person, and I believe wholeheartedly in away messages.

So when I found myself alone in my apartment with no Internet to speak of, I did what any other addict would do. I left my apartment and banged on my neighbors’ doors in the hopes one of them would share their password with me. My startled building-mates found me standing there, practically begging: “Your password? For $10? Just for four days? I’m moving, I swear I’m not crazy. Just give me the Internet now, please. Please?” I was desperate.

And? I returned to my apartment a failure. The girl across the hall didn’t have Internet, and my next door neighbor gave me a funny look (It said, Seriously?) and told me he’d knock when his roommate returned home. No one else was home, and I never heard a knock. Miserable in my defeat, I turned on the TV, made a few phone calls and cracked open a magazine. You know when you leave your cell at home, and all day you feel like you’re missing your left foot, or something as equally important? It felt like that.

So today I’m downstairs at the local cafe, using their free internet (fine, $1.2o if you count the tea I had to buy), feeding, confronting and accepting, my addiction. Am I ashamed? A little, yeah. but I am what I am.

I write this because I’m curious what will happen to this addiction down under. I expect it will be like giving up anything else. Painful at first, then, suddenly, not. Hopefully I’ll find a few nice cafes, do my writing, and go. Eventually, that will feel OK. (Or, you know, I’ll check my BlackBerry every five seconds, let’s be serious.)

In all honestly, I’d like to try and be less available. We shall see.

——- Plus! ——–

Stay tuned for the brand-spakin’ new direction of this blog…I’m excited! (What do you think I just expected you to come here and read about my Internet addiction? Psha.)

Cherub

My fave new brit pop band The Wombats have an adorable mascot.

His name is CHERUB. He has a MySpace too. Be Cherub’s friend! He has more friends than me. He’s also Jewish — I wonder if he celebrates Hannukah? I hope Cherub comes home to Oz sometime soon!

.Cherub

Less than one

When I started this blog 3 months ago, Australia seemed close. It felt big and far and full of possibility.

Last week, as I watched my (ex) roommate pack her belongings and prepare for her new, solo “grown-up” life downtown, I thought again about how close it felt. I’d just spent 3 nights at a hotel in a new city, running around a festival on my own, for the most part, and I was exhausted. I just wanted to be somewhere familiar. It was suffocating to think about. It came crashing down all at once — I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t sleep; I couldn’t even drink for fear I’d lose it.

Then a funny thing happened. It passed.

In Chicago, I met people Friday and felt part of a gang by Saturday. By Sunday night, the hotel room started to feel a bit like home. And dude, in contrast, New York smelled bad.

As the reasons to go are making themselves ever more present, the distance I want — need — is more necessary than ever.

In other words…I’m ready.

New Pix!

Regina, originally uploaded by Silly Robin.

New “late summer” pix are up!
Lolla
Ben Kweller
Bubgagement
Yanks

The Real World Sydney…

…makes me feel old. But in a good “too old for MTV” way. Still, too bad I won’t be staying in anything like this down under!

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We Can Be Heroes

A friend at work just told me about this show, We Can Be Heroes. Apparently, it’s must-watch Aussie TV.

Enjoy, it’s pretty hilarious.