moneymoneymoney

yey. some cash at last.

I celebrate by going to the deli and buy cheeseburger with fries. $3 is less than a third what this meal would cost in native Norway. I also buy socks.

This hood here is strange. It seems to be all about posing and not actually being anything. I see ofcourse now where the baggy style came from. It cleverly disguises that you are fat. And they all seem to be fat.

I went to Manhatten the other day. Rode the subway into that big hole in the ground where the wtc used to be. It was very emotional, tourists everywhere, people in their 40's crying. I felt like crying to, from the top of my lungs just a long vail to echo in gotham city.

A frenchman points and explains to his fellow traveler; I wonder what he's saying...

I've been here before, when the towers still stood. 5 o'clock in the morning on the 5th of july -after a really long 4th of july party me and mr. D wound up on the little square between the towers. They looked so insanely tall.

I walk away, I look at the sun and guesstimate where north is. I find W. Broadway and heads up. I stop at a bank, I have 400 NOK -about $65, they won't exchange but give me an address to the people who will.

'It's not here'
she says, I look at the card she gave me: 5th and 47th.
'Fifth avenue?'

aye aye captain. I just know that it is a really long way to go and they close in one and a half hour.

I start walking, not enough money even for the subway(I had a card for the train to wtc).

Eventually w. broadway ends and I come to this little park with a ridiculuos copy of the arch of triumph in Paris. As I walk through I feel triumphant nevertheless because I am greeted by a sign saying 'one fifth avenue'. Wonderful, at least I found 5th avenue. Now I only got to walk all the to number 575. 47st. is just below the central park I think I remember. Endless this road feels.

I see this awfully familiar looking building and suddenly I picture a large cargo boat in the street. Yes, that's it -it's the New York Public Library where they hide out in that climate change movie nobody remembers the name of.

Movie world and real world seems in constant state of crash here.

Not until I finally see E47st. on a sign, spots no. 575, enters the large lobby, access the escalator, one of those freehanging things high above the floor, do I realise I'm in a state of shock. My fear of heights, usually not so extreme, comes crashing in like a freight train. I arrive the second floor shaking, and I got to go up one more floor, but I can't do it. I can't even go down. Oh save me I think, hug the wall, look at the floor, FIND THE ELEVATOR!

I find it easily but it's got a huge window hanging out. I hate the architect deeply at this time. In the elevator is a serbian seeming as desperate as me to not look at the window. The elevator is very slow, to give me time to admire the view I gather.
And there I am; third floor.

I leave with $45 still shaking. I just start walking and immediatly gets lost, no sense of direction what so ever, eventually I discover the numbers rising. 52st.? How did I get here, Madison avenue?

I turn around and reaquire my direction, I decide to head for the village(the greenwich village) and get drunk. I make a stop behind the library, someone comes and sells me a copy of the onion. I am just tired, going with flow, any flow.

'Say me why are you so quiet?' the seller of the onion says.
'I've been walking all day I'm crashed, say, I was heading for the village you know where it is?'

He gives me direction to a subway two blocks away. Christopher Street station my destination is. Ofcourse I get on the wrong train. I exit at 14th and 6th. avenue. Yeah, it's cool, I know I'm near. Things start to seem similar, I've been here before, I spot the blue note jazz club and starts looking for a bar. I pass Grove st.

And eventually winds up in tiny cellar called Alibi. They're about to have a jam session, open mic. they call it here. The first one is good, the second sucks.
Now I'm really drunk, tired, shocked, pleased.......
I head out in the street, looking for the subway home. I ask this guy with a dog and he says I'm really far off. Damn.

The mood here is so different though, more like Europe, relaxed in a sense. At least compared to the hood. I relish in it and get a taxi. Take me to my subway!
As we arrive I realize my money is gone. I give the cab driver my change. He seems happy enough, I've been gathering change ever since I came here. Haven't learned the coins yet. It's probably more than he wants.

Back to the hood. Feels almost like home now.
John, a local musician, calls and me him and Bjorn go to Uncle Joes's and play the open mic. thingy there. Fun, my first gig in America, I get a beer from John and consider myself duly paid.

And thus the night ends.

b