Welcome to my home. Take off your shoes.

So this is what it's like to be detached from the money teet, if you were curious.

These are my new digs while I'm teaching a class in marketing, while finishing up school in Binghamton. Liquor Stores, Funeral Homes and Diners, all within a 3 block radius.



As I type, I feel the peanut butter and jelly sandwich that I had for dinner settles in nicely. I should have thought of that earlier.




There's the kitchen. It's cozy. Plus, the stove had some food left over from the previous tenant, which I considered generous.


To my left, a prop tentacle from the "war of the worlds," set. That's actually my shower head.

I've been in some hotels Grandma doesn't have to know about, yet I have never come across this marvel. It literally hurts when the water hits you directly, so I have to bounce the water off my hand for an indirect hit. Pros include free hardcore toothbrush. Cons include one setting. Iraqi Sandstorm.

I was thinking about going to Lowe's (there's no home depot. the horror...) and getting a new shower head. Not cause I can't take the heat, but it would be nice to not hold the death machine while I try avoid zapping off my genitals with it's power spray.

I called my mom.


Me: I need to go to Lowe's and get a new shower head.

Mom: Isn't that expensive?

Me: It should be around 30, 40.

Mom: (pause) American?

Me: Yeah.

Mom: But it could be more, and then you have to measure it and all this stuff.

Me: No, just measure it. (beat) No stuff, just measure it.

Mom: Alright, but what are you going to use to measure it? (pause) It just feels like alot of work.

Me: Yeah, that's too much work.



"Too much work," by the way, is the usual consensus in most of our conversations.

So, for the benefit of having it in a movie of mine some day, the shower head will stay. (Besides, it gets to all those hard to reach places.)


Now say hello to my friend, asshole toilet.


This toilet runs all the time. Something is broken, my father said when he helped me move in. I'm supposed to tell the super that he needs to get a new piece of hardware, and then install it and supposedly it will stop making the constant whirring sound that gets into my dreams.

But I've come to find my toilet doubling up as a poor man's noise machine. I think it's actually helped me get some sleep with it's, Irish Spring. White noise is white noise. And it doesn't need batteries!