New title for the blog. Not a nanny anymore.
New section of town. Upper East Side.
New roommate, is okay. Bit Gothic, but, hey.. we've all got our idiosyncrasies. At least there is no sign of the sarong yet.. maybe it's at JFK with my lost piece of luggage.
New flat, not going to work.
It isn't the five flights of stairs... holy mary mother of god I thought I was going to die dragging up my luggage the size of Kansas with the dog running up and down... it isn't the noise from the George Washington big ol' highway thing a block away.... it's the people in the neighborhood that have me a tad bit on the freaked out side.
I'm afraid I'm going to be jacked for my scuffed boots, much less for my new phone.
No, this isn't the place for little ol' me.
No, siree.... perhaps it was the drug deal going down as Douglass was doing her duty and I was begging her to hurry or the current fight going on outside my window right now peppered with a few slaps and yells... this isn't Brooklyn, this isn't Utah, and this sure as hell isn't me.
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