April 14, 2012

Heights

Clearly I've done an excellent* job in posting once a day in the 16 days leading to my birthday.
*Not so excellent whatsoever, oops.

But I'm here now with stories to regale (or bore) the Internet as I enter my last weekend of Age 34 (and boy oh boy, has it been a year.)

My career has finally launched on a path. I realize I'm a late bloomer and that ten years plus some change down a road with the same company one would imagine I'd be a lot further along a lot of years ago...alas, never mind all that because the path is launched and I'm moving forward. Hurray...and hope this turns out for the best because it feels like it might.

Above shown is our arena roof. Maybe I'm a baby (indeed I am) and perhaps for little reason but I couldn't do it. Yesterday I was walking the Upper Concourse with Craig, Wip, Tom and John (Tom is my Signage Guy) and Tom's agenda for the morning on site included walking the roof, where he will be planting a painted logo for the sponsor. I had hopes and dreams of parting ways with those schmucks (love them, they're my brothers) and heading back to the office only at some point Craig turned to me and said, KB, have you walked the roof yet? I looked at him as if he'd grown a large second Craig Head and Wip said, Yeah, KB, when was the last time you were up there? Tom's face formed a sinister smile and he was like, KB, come with us to the roof. John had long since departed our company otherwise he would have defended my honor. Hell no, I haven't been on the roof, I exclaimed to these punks! Why would I? And they were all in harmony with one another to the tune of, KB, there's a SIGN up there, you are overseeing that. Ugh.

So I permitted them to lure me up the 42 flights of stairs to just "meet" with the roof. There are slats between some steps where seeing down to the ground below happens. There are gaps between drywall and concrete that reveal an imminent death should you slide between the gap and fall to the ground in a pile of likely impaled blood and bone. Granted, the gaps/slats might only be 1/16" BUT STILL! Stranger things have happened than me melting into jelly and managing to slither through those spaces and plummet to the Brooklyn graveyard that would be mine below! I'm not kidding, as we ascended, my heart thudded with escalating woe.

When we reached the topper most landing, I completely froze. My stomach began to knot and I felt light headed because what you see above posted is what I stood and confronted from the topper most stair landing. Craig and Tom basically leapt over a beam to cross onto the sloped roof and began just walking like it was not a dramatically sloping hill climbing high into the sky (okay, okay, the building is only 6 stories with a 7th mechanical mezzanine level BUT STILL!) Wip hovered near me and insisted on getting me on that roof. I was bound on the stair landing by safety cables and I stood there all frozen telling Wip No No No, No No, No, seriously, NO. He was like, KB, consider it just a floor, it's just a floor, you can walk on it, and by that time, Craig and Tom had disappeared over the other side and I fearfully turned to Wip and said, Where are Craig and Tom, did they FALL OFF?? Meanwhile, several other construction monkeys had jumped over the beam and were just strutting around like they were on a dance floor. It had my entire gut braided and tangled.

So maybe I'm afraid of heights. Maybe I inherited that lucky trait from my Mom who, when we went to the Grand Canyon when I was a teenager, could barely maneuver herself on the trails, she was that afraid. But there's this: I will at some point attempt that roof. I just will. The whole experience yesterday frustrated me and I want to be just as capable of saying I walked on the arena roof as anyone else working on this job, and dammit, I'll do it. Just, not yesterday.

What else...? Lit Crawl BK is nearly mapped out and a couple of days ago I had an experience I'd like to isolate and memory bank for some time. I'm acting simply as the volunteer coordinator which basically consists of locating volunteers and gathering them for coffee or cocktails and sending emails. Easy, basic...but I've also offered to assist in smallish other capacities as needed. Well, Suzanne wondered would I go meet with Karl who owns Scratcher (aka The Scratcher aka Scratcher Cafe) to discuss booze sponsorship options. Scratcher is one of our tried and true East Village supporters, and every year in the going on 5-year program of Lit Crawl NYC, we've hosted events on the Crawl at Scratcher. Apparently, Karl just thinks Lit Crawl is the cat's meow and is willing to do just about anything to assist.

So there was this New York moment (moment being an extended period of time, duh) that happened for me. First off, Karl isn't just Karl...he's hot hot Karl, as Suzanne referenced him. Ha! He's been in a couple of movies and, okay, yes, hot hot barely does him justice. But what happened is this: I left work way early and headed to Astor Place to emerge from the subway and head to Scratcher. Scratcher is not marked - it's a bar just below ground level that is by far one of my favorite places to go in the City these days. Uh, not just because of hot hot Karl. The bar doesn't open until like after 5, so when I pulled on the door, it was locked - I stepped back, and suddenly the door swung open and there stood hot hot Karl holding keys and inviting me in. The bar was unlit except for the ambient light from the sunny day so there was this fine layer of dust floating through the bar lit by the sun and everything finish-wise in there is primarily wood, old wood, vintage look. He smelled of coffee and was drinking one and offered me one and he, yes, has that whole Irish Hot Hot Bar Owner Movie Actor look going, and we sat across a table from one another and discussed beer sponsorship and club ownership and my work in construction and it was just...it was one of those things, those times, I don't believe I'll experience often if ever again. If there is a movie made of me, posthumously, that scene must be in it...shot at Scratcher, and I'm played by Winona Ryder if possible because she's able to pull off just about as frumpy as me? Ha.

So that was great. Then yesterday I received an email from one of the other Lit Crawl volunteers...she has managed to secure us free Out of Print tees which are basically tees with Out of Print book covers silk screened on them and we will wear those around the night of the Lit Crawl BK...how endearingly nerdy and perfect!...and my first request was The Bell Jar and second was Wuthering Heights. Obviously, must go Team Girl Author! Plus, I'd hesitate to wear a tee of a book I've not read.

What else, big world? Oh, I've spent much of the morning coordinating my Saturday...going to see a Hole rockumentary with Alicia at 4, then we're going to meet my friend Trish and her friend Mary at 7 at Solas followed by fondue/cheese plates and wine at The Bourgeois Pig, all in the East Village.

My life is moving in a weird twisted range of paces. Some weeks crazy with lots planned. Others, lulled by hollow and open hours yet those lulls somehow navigate me back to normalcy from the crazy where I mostly reside.

I love it.
I'm sad, I'm happy, I'm grand, I'm falling...but really, the colors of life keep me pushing forward into what is to come.
Happy 35th soon, girl...
xo




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