i can't wait just like you can't wait / until we're out past familiar gates / those seven words shook the life back in / so let's just run 'til we lose our breath.

this is where we are. this is who we are.

Posted: May 25, 2012 | Posted by marcy | 0 comments


[i’m digging the blue tile.]

you’re giving times square a run for her money.

and god knows, there’s nothing worse than times square in the summer.

and often in the winter, too.

110th street stop: glad to know you.

the second round of this.

Posted: May 18, 2012 | Posted by marcy | 0 comments

well, that was weird.


unexpected spacehog appearance at the brooklyn bowl.

where we went to eat because it was across the street and has rock ‘n roll fries.

and because we can get in with no hassle.

friends in high places.

[my fiends are so so connected. or just own great joints. or both.]

it brought it all full circle and left me with my jaw on the floor.

it’s like they can read my mind.

two point five hours of straight up inspiration. even of the home decor kind.

Posted: May 10, 2012 | Posted by marcy | 0 comments

edward sharpe and the magnetic zeros.

last night.

at the roseland.


killed it.

if you haven’t seen them live, run.

do not walk.

but you can skip.

‘cause they are a skippy kind of bunch.

and you guys, THIS.


is going in my bedroom.

it’s happening.

or a smaller, less global-size version of it.

china ball lights are sex pot.

i fumbled with how i would rig it and then i realized one of my best friends is an interior designer and rigs shit for a living.

good shit.

like the china ball light that will be going in my bedroom.

it’s your word to God’s ear. and everything else will just have to be.

Posted: May 8, 2012 | Posted by marcy | 0 comments

east harlem is an oasis of purity.

[um, what?!]

just as long as you understand that it’s not greenwich village.

[well. um. duh.]

and so long as you don’t wander past the jefferson projects at night.

[huh? that’s 2 blocks away! and for 5 months out of the year, “night” begins at like four o’clock!!]

and don’t wear any jewelry.

[hang on. i’m a girl. come again??]

just keep your wits about you.

[okay, done. check. i’ve lived in these parts for long enough to know even that.]


i will say this about it, though . . .

it’s about as authentic as they come.

[and i like love that.]

and not riddled with the yuppie imports of select neighborhoods which will remain unmentioned.

[who has time for that anyway? oh wait. i’m an import. scratch the import bit.]

it’s as raw as the infection once was that sent me to the emergency room.

[which was well over a month ago. meh. moving on.]

he tells me there’s a cuban joint on the next block with great food.

[i can do cuban food.]

the fire department is within spitting distance.

[ya know. in case i want to set something on fire.]

and the bar next door is hailed as the dive of all dives. and only plays country music.

[okay, this will work. i can tap into my southern roots while getting knee-knocking drunk on the cheap at the same time. two birds. one stone.]


i can promise you absolutely nothing except this . . .

i will rock it.

[one way or another. and possibly multiple ways. yes. multiple ways.]