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I took Friday off and headed to Coney Island Creek to take some photos. I had to climb over some rocks and walk across the creek in rather deep mud to get close enough to the wrecked ships. (what I won't do for a good photo) The whole time I was muttering under my breath "I am almost 40, I am almost 40", especially while I was climbing the rocks.
Thanks to Dalton Rooney for steering me in the right direction. You can view the photos here.
Dear neighbor,
I really don’t know why some of mail arrives with your apartment number instead of mine. Perhaps someone at the post office screwed up, or perhaps I filled out a change of address card incorrectly, at any rate I am sorry that you sometimes receive my mail. I have made every effort to make the corrections as I get them but once in awhile a letter will still fall through the cracks and is placed in your mailbox.
I’m sure it must be annoying because I can’t help but notice that you have now taken to writing on the envelope “POSTMASTER PLEASE RETURN. WRONG PERSON AT THIS ADDRESS. THANK YOU. “ in big block letters and leave it on the mailbox for me, the mail man and the whole darn building to see. 
Here is the funny thing. Your apartment is literally inches from mine. It is so close in fact that if your door and my door were opened at the same time I could enter your apartment without touching the hallway floor. Your are that close…like thisclose. What may I ask would be the hardship of simply dropping my mail on my doorstep as you are going back to your own apartment? Honestly. It would certainly take far less effort than, getting a pen, writing your diatribe in block letters and than going all the way back downstairs to the mailbox. Furthermore it would be the NEIGHBORLY thing to do. This way, I would not have to go through the hassle of losing my mail because you want to prove a point. Or better yet, why don’t you knock on my door and introduce yourself. It’s good to know your neighbors. You never know when you will need a cup of flour or a tea bag or something.
Sincerely,
Lorna (the formerly bald chick who lives next door.)
This is the first Saturday in weeks that I did not have plans, so I pretty much did nothing all day. I did not go to the gym last night because of the rain storm. Instead I had sushi at my favorite local sushi restaurant. I also had some sake...too much sake. I just can't drink alcohol like I used to since the cancer treatment. I seem to get drunk quicker and with very little, and the following day (like today) I feel as though I have been hit by a truck. Maybe it's an after effect of the chemo? Who knows.
The housekeeper was scheduled to come this morning at 8:30 am. Yes, that's right I have cleaning lady who comes once or twice a month. My brother hired this service while I was in treatment and I got spoiled. I feel really funny hanging around while someone else cleans my house so I took my camera and wandered around Coney Island in the early morning hours. I stopped for coffee at the coffee and flower place. It turns out they have wifi there and their coffee is really good. Nobody seems to be hanging out in there yet. I hope it catches on and stays open because the Starbucks in Brighton Beach is way too crowded and I like supporting local businesses.
btw: The certified letter turned out to be a letter from my breast surgeon to let me know it's time for my six month check. I guess they mean business when you've had cancer.
To the party who sent me a certified letter.
I live in the depths of Brooklyn, and work in the middle of the island of Manhattan. I am never home when the mailman delivers my mail, nor am I in the area to pick up your letter while the post office is open. I am not refusing your letter, I simply cannot pick it up. Therefore, you are wasting your money by sending mail to me certified because there really is no possible way I can pick it up unless I take a day off of work which I will not do unless I know who you are and why you are sending me something certified. I've tried calling the post office, and they refuse to tell me who you are.
Why are you sending me certified mail? My debts are all being paid in a timely manner. I have excellent credit. I don't drive. What could you possibly want? Who are you anyway?
(You wouldn't happen to be the grim reaper would you?)
If you have something to send me send the letter regular mail, or better yet, drop me an e-mail and let me know what's up. It's not like I'm hard to find or anything.
Sincerely,
Lorna (who is never home)
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