January 26th, 2018 @ 9:56 am

since moving back to a quiet, suburban area, i can’t sleep.  i’ve been here since early december, and i still have yet to adjust to not hearing the sirens and other misc. bullshit sounds of queens blvd all night.

i know i haven’t described my neighborhood or living conditions of the last two years here, so let me just break it down for you.  i lived on a 6 lane, BUSY queens boulevard for a few years.  i moved from the 2nd floor to the 6th floor of my building because of a noise issue in the apartment above mine (aka two lazy pieces of shit that refused to parent their two chunky daughters that would run around and jump off of furniture all day), SIRENS ALL DAY/NIGHT LONG, at one point, they tore up queens blvd for two weeks from 10PM-3AM to repave everything and lastly, they opened up a hotel across the street that had BLINDING flood lights facing outwards.  that’s right, all of queens blvd’s residential buildings were illuminated for god knows what reason.

i filed complaints to 311 and even spoke to the local congresswoman about it, and she wrote them a letter to turn them downwards vs. outwards and they didn’t comply.  i didn’t live directly across the street from the hotel, but my bedroom looked like times square.  i felt bad for the people directly across the way from the building.  it’s disgusting that they get away with it.

anyways, the blvd was also an emergency vehicle super-highway.  if i was home, 85% of my time was listening to ambulances and fire trucks.  it’s funny how immune you sort of become to it, but also kind of accepting.

right before we moved out, there was a 20-something year old girl that had moved into the building with this ridiculously suped up ford focus.  every day this little ratty herb would sit in her car revving the stupid engine, annoying EVERYONE.  like, right in front of the our building.  no hiding it, no fucks given, all hours of the day.  if she couldn’t find a parking spot at night, we heard it.  either way, we’d end up hearing it at least once per day.  it sounded like a broken lawnmower.  it was so annoying.

apparently, it irritated someone enough that they went ahead and filled the exhaust pipes with that hardening, foam filler, lol.  i mean, i feel bad because maybe that could have been dangerous…  but like, take the hint and stop being disrespectful to your neighbors.  tone that bullshit down.  my super even told me that people were complaining to him about it, asking him to talk to her about it.  she didn’t give a shit, though.

those are things i reeeeeeeeeally don’t miss.

but yeah, moving to quiet is really throwing me off.  i became so used to all of that noise that i struggle to get a full night’s sleep.

October 16th, 2015 @ 2:16 pm

i feel beyond fortunate to have lived through NYC in the 80’s and 90’s.  i got to experience pre-transplant/hipster times that they long for, and think that they have.  they don’t, and they won’t… not ever.

see, there are things that have happened since i was born that were raw and early that can no longer exist.  simple things like small shops in the village that had character, graffiti on the trains, the “don’t walk/walk” signs (apparently non-english ppl can’t read, so they switched them out), phonebooths, cool music venues, paper transfers, tokens, lower population – when we had room to breathe, affordable rent.  i know there was crime, and tons of pollution, and gross sex stuff going on in times sq. – but the good outweighed the bad for us.

of course people have always landed here, i’m not saying as a native of NYC being born in the 80’s, that i’m anything special… but this used to be a place people could come and actually live here.  it wasn’t a fad.  these youthful, bearded idiots from other states have filled up the boroughs so badly, that there’s no room for that, or growth anymore.

back in the early 90’s, my mother was making the salary that i make today.  salaries haven’t differed or gone up all that much…  our rents (we usually lived in apartments) were ~$750 per month for a 2 BR in suburban queens.  now… 2 BR’s start at $2-24000 per month.  sure, i also blame the landlords, but i also blame the morons that pile 2/3 people in those 2 BR’s and hike up the rents.

anyways, i’m veering off from the point of this post (i’m sorry, i get transplant-rage).

i was looking for spots in queens recently, that could potentially hold a holiday pop-up shop for a collective of crafters.  i landed on a cute boutique in astoria, queens that had a little garden and it was really quaint, you know?  so i bookmarked it in my brain, and i followed the owner on twitter and instagram (who never followed back, eyeroll).  after a while, i started seeing her posting stuff re: queens pride.  kitschy sports banners, tote bags, t-shirts, etc. and at first, i was like “COOL!”, because i love anything queens related… but then i realized after then only seeing “ASTORIA •  QUEENS” pride, that there was a problem.

astoria, queens growing up equated to the following…
1. greek stuff
2. coffee shops and bakeries
3. diners (usually owned by greeks)
4. steinway street shops
5. astoria park

like any other spot in queens, you probably went there for something specific (ie: corona: ices and good spanish food, or jackson heights for great indian food).  astoria was never “a thing”.  sure, the people that grew up there had astoria “pride”, but no one shouted it from the rooftops like it was some sort of novelty item.  that’s the trouble with these transplants… they seem to think we lack some type of neighborhood pride or community.  they want to celebrate where they landed, thinking it’s the coolest place on the planet.  BUT… it’s. just. queens.

when they’re at home in like, norwoodville, iowa, do they have the same pride?  are there sports banners and t-shirts and tote bags celebrating their neighborhood? errrrm.  probably not.

anyways, back to the little shop that i found…

i started seeing this “ASTORIA QUEENS” pride merch, but no other queens ‘hoods.  of course my native spidey senses were tingling, and i was outraged that i was potentially and initially duped by a transplant.  upon further googling (and i had to dig pretty deep since homegirl never really openly admits her origins, and has “been an “ASTORIAN” (lol) for over a decade), i found out she was from the midwest, just as i figured.

smdh.

they stick out like sore thumbs…  they’re so fucking lame.

i don’t even know what they get from this city anymore, since it doesn’t even feel how it used to.  they’ll never know what it felt like, so i guess whatever this shitty city has turned into is good enough for them, and that’s sad.  it’s bland, it’s too much money, it’s too crowded.

GO LOVE YOUR OWN CITY, ASSHOLES.

February 3rd, 2015 @ 10:40 pm

welp… i’m officially out of glendale and situated in rego park.

this is one of the weirdest/hardest/most annoying moves i’ve had to go through.  steve was/is out of town for work, so we had to improvise bodies.

how it was supposed to go:
kitsos and jimmy were supposed to help me move last friday, POSSIBLY mike – because he still had stuff at my apartment.  i figured if he helped me out with moving, i could use the truck to get his stuff back to his mom’s house. we’d have to deal with snow.

how it actually went:
cable appointment on friday, instead.  jimmy and metal joe helped me move last saturday (kitsos couldn’t switch days). mike never showed up/called back/texted back/tweeted/contacted me, so most of his stuff stayed back at our/my old apartment (which i feel HORRIBLE about, but it was there for a. full. fucking. year. yes, he let an entire year go by… typical elbow).  it was fucking freezing, but no snow.

if it wasn’t for jimmy pulling through, it would have been a lot worse.  if it was just joe and i, we would have killed each other and probably taken like 3x longer.  i don’t know what i would have done, i couldn’t really find anyone else to help out that day.  i also only just started speaking to jimmy again within the last few months, so  thank god he was being cool about me being bossy and persistent for the help.  we had a falling out a few years back (oh, the soap opera that is my life).

we shall forever refer to this move as #junctioncake (this sign was left on the dashboard, still have no idea what it means). i should google it.

December 28th, 2013 @ 1:31 pm

it’s fucking rough being a native new yorker right now.  i mean, i’m sure it was rough being a native new yorker whenever there was an annoying surge of people pouring in.  i only know this generation’s surge of entitled, rent-raising, lemming-like, transplant brats…  however, i don’t think they were always bratty.  i feel like the only transplants that i have respect for are from other countries.  i’m like, north-american state-to-state moving transplant racist.

i know i’ve complained about transplants on this site before, so that’s not where i’m going with this.  i was actually thinking about WHY i feel so proud to be a native new yorker from queens, and how sad it is that if i ever have kids, it probably will never be like the “old new york” i knew… because of those bastards.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

when i was growing up, i lived in like 13 or 14 places.  it set me up to enjoy change, but it was also great to stay put for a while.  i stayed put the longest in whitestone and college point over the years (flushing/bayside as well, but not the for large chunks of time, really).  i’m glad i grew up in the “burbs” for a million reasons.  i didn’t have a front lawn or back yard, per se, but i had big luscious parks.  my neighborhood was generally quiet, safe, homey.  my elementary schools were great back then, they weren’t terribly overcrowded like they are now.  i haven’t been near my elementary schools in ages, because i don’t live in those areas anymore, but the last few times i was, they had trailers for classrooms in the yards.  that’s so depressing.  it makes me wonder if the schools have gone downhill or do less with the kids now.  i was very fortunate to grow up when i did, because i did so much with my schools back then.

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March 21st, 2013 @ 12:48 pm

JESS HERE…

at the beginning of this year, i started making earrings with lyrics/words/quotes on them… obviously i can’t fit all that inspires me on 3″ diameter hoop earrings, so i took to the t-shirt template. i have been compiling ideas for new york ranger fan shirts for like 2/3 years that i never put to use, so a couple of weeks ago, i just opened photoshop and went with it. i currently go through a website “skreened(.com)” because i don’t exactly know if the t-shirt business would even take off – t-shirt companies are a dime a dozen these days… either way, i am not trying to step on anyone’s toes – i want to have fun/hitting close to home/true-fan shirts, and this is just my way of paying homage through something that i love – graphic design.

ANYWAYS… i met michelle via instagram at some point in the last few months and we connected on the wu-tang front. i make earrings and she does (amazing) cross-stitch pieces paying wu-tang homage. she’s been on the wu-tang blog before, she’s no stranger to wu-exposure and she included me in my first batch of wu-tang shirts. yeah, i’m actually being featured on the wu-tang blog, insane.

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