The party condo has been built!

I spent a bit of time in condoland today and again this evening. In the afternoon, I strolled down a street in the west of the annex and found a new project. It's aim is to make some condos and townhouses out of the Loretto Abbey schools that sit side by side. I applaud the plan for the junior high school, which will not destroy the building and be replaced with a mammoth structure of opulence. A two or three story extension will be built atop the existing building, and some design changes will be made to the window areas, but fundamentally, this seems like a sensible thing to in comparison to what's planned for the older, more Catholic looking Elementary school. Instead of taking the same idea for the junior high and brilliantly making us of the existing building, they're going to tear it down and build a series of modestly luxurious town homes. This angers me slightly, as it is the purpose of the Annex as a historical district to keep its old buildings preserved at least on the exterior. The school could easily be turned into discrete, spacious and highly liveable town homes, but instead they're going with the decision to level this beautiful and practical space.

Later on, I took the plunge into a different reality altogether, just a few blocks away in the twilight zone that is Yorkville. There I met Trevor, who somehow inherited this loft like condo on CUmberland just west of Bay. It was the first time I had ever been inside an apartment with more than one floor. I honestly thought such things are situated only in penthouses high above the city, but not on a middle floor of a relatively low-rise condo building. Equipped with two balconies, this place is a must for at least one good dinner and wine party for those of us who will never get the chance to do such a thing in Yorkville otherwise.

We took a stroll the strange recreations of forests and deserts at Cumberland Square, both agreeing that these locations resembled sound stages than they did public space. We crossed through these monuments that housed beams of green light in hollow, grated futurist columns. I felt that while it looked mighty fantastic, it's actually a regressive design because it forgoes any concern for the excessive use of electricity required to run such projects. While it should be noted that the lights used are far more efficient than the ones we screw into our lamps at home, one should consider the nature of necessity and scarcity. Why, in an era that warns of the excesses of hyper-electrification should we use our dwindling resources for show? Why not make an object shine on its own rather than manufacture the radiance with electrical power? The future, in my opinion, depends on how much we can curtail the use of electricity and make the wonders of the pre-modern world work for us again.

We moved on to the massive rock "formation" in the middle of the square, just beyond the colum fountains. We could feel the rumblings of the subway line underneath and I felt as if we were awakening a dinosaur. There, three girls who had been partying intermittently between the rock and Sassafraz (a place I laid eyes on for the first time that night and realized that it's probably too expensive for me to even set foot in) mistook our smoke for a joint and asked us to pass it over. I, at this point, did not need any more, as I'd been smoking prolifically all day, so I offered them my last joint to smoke later when they were on their way. "You deserve hugs and kisses!" said one of the girls, and boy, do I wish that were true.

"It's our rock," said the casually dressed brunette.

"I like that it's yours," I say.

"Yeah, we've been hangin here for a while now. We've been coming in and out of Sassafraz since 9 or 10 to get loaded and come sit on the rock. Monday is our night."

"How long has this tradition been going on for?" asked Trevor.

"Since tonight," she says and shrugs.

The more formally dressed blonde was lying in a pile of what looked to be paper ripped into hundreds of pieces.

"What's she lying in?" asked Trevor.

"Her shattered life," the brunette replied jokingly.

The third one, a lovely and polite but drunk girl dressed in black complained that she wasn't going to make it down the rock face on two feet. They announced that it was time to go, but not without telling us to come back next Monday at around 9 or 10.

Upon closer inspection, Trevor revealed that the pieces of paper were actually various photos and negatives of perhaps a significant other. I wonder if there will still be pieces there next Monday.