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07:45pm 19/06/2007
06:22pm 25/10/2006
  Hmmm... it's been very long.  
11:52pm 01/12/2005
  its weird because the stoop lives on through many, but somehow the people who were the stoopers most strongly in my memory are gone.

am i a stooper?

the transition was abrupt and sudden, too much so. i dont know if i was ready to be on any stoop by my lonesome, but i did it and have proceded to do it quite frequently with my singh's french vanilla.

there should be a ritual, to pass the stoophood on, from apprentice stooper to official stooper.

no matter what i do, or how cold my bum gets from the cold dirty concrete steps, the senior comfort level doesn't feel like its being reached.

on a side note, the other day i was sitting on a new stoop (scandal) and a man came out and spat on me, possibly intentionally, why standing there and chanting "you fucking idiot" for three minutes straight. when i realized he wasnt moving me and my fellow marlborette moved onward.
07:55pm 07/04/2005
  It is officially stooping-for-hours weather.  
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09:39pm 13/02/2005
  It gon' be Spring Time soon. No more stoop = more park, once Cristo vacates and takes him long flappity poles with him.  
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04:57pm 01/01/2005
  Stoop! Here I come.  
02:22pm 14/11/2004

the original stoop, circa 2002

04:47pm 02/10/2004
A little downtown, 94th or 93rd? between MAD AVE and FITH. It's got a nice low structure, widely spaced for people with large behinds (like Claudine and Joe), and a lovely painted floral pattern in muted shades of green and red. Maybe not red. Definitely green.

p.s. check out is_it_gay just because it is so funny.
Alexandra Meets Philip, or, How She Proved Herself Psychic 
11:04pm 14/09/2004
  A: Philip?
P: How'd you know my name?
A: I'm psychic. I also know that you go to Harvard and that you went to MIT.
P: What? How did you know that? It's true; here's my Harvard ID!
A: Really. I'm psychic.
P: Where do you go to school?
A: Hunter. (I wave my hand toward MAD AVE)
P: So you're a few years behind me. O.K., if you're really psychic, then where did I go to high school?
A: Shoot. I didn't think about this one. (Running through my mind are Spence, St. Regis, the Lycee, the Lyceeum Kennedy, a number of nameless schools that just look full of Jews) Um... (Not Hunter!) Damn! Stuyvesant?
P: Holy shit! Yes! (He enters the building)
Others: Did you know that part? About Stuy?
A: No, I totally guessed. But I kind of knew Stuy was right.
O: Why?
A: He just looks like a Stuy kid.
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12:16pm 26/07/2004

Has no one had a stooping good-time this whole summer?

The stoop crowd may hate each other and themselves, but: the stoop must live.

I've been in Vermont, sitting in a wooden house more than forty years old with netting all over the walls, listening to Lithuanian techno and classic rock. I've been a guy's girl, the most permanent of only four smoking girls. I have spent three weeks and five cartons with my best friends. Cartons of Camel filters, in Vermont, are thirty-nine dollars. WHAT?

BUT-- I had a stooping moment yesterday morning. It was about five, and we had been up drinking all night. Actually, all night-- since the sun set. The kids were up and running around, and a couple of times we left to make them go to bed, but either gave up or wound up in a counselor-camper dodgeball game. Three drunken counselors against a mass of kids ended in: three drunken counselors bring a drunken kid to the lounge to smoke.

BUT WAIT. I am straying. After everyone had gone to bed around five, and everyone meaning the counselors, Inga and I took a walk around camp. It was a really cool, damp morning, and the sky was half-lit because it was dawn but the sun hadn't risen over the mountain yet. We were wearing ladybug rainboots and the air was misty. And we smoked. The only place you're allowed to smoke in in the whole camp was the place we had just left, but it was dark in there, and you could breathe out where we were. So we smoked as we walked across the campus, and in sober retrospect I realize that no less than twenty kids probably saw us. We sat at the end of camp, by the woods, by the "pasaku namelis"-- story house. There are low benches behind it, progressing up. We sat there and she smoked cloves and I smoked Turkish Golds and we talked about how it was last year, when they sat there every night, and about my loves, and about dawn in Vermont and about a hundred other things.

It was a stoop experience; we were squatting, smoking forbiddenly, and interacting as humans.

The end. I miss the 95th street stoop.
09:39pm 12/06/2004
  joe should be in this.  
     Read 1 - Post
10:57pm 06/04/2004
mood: tequila.
I think my record has been seven; as in, number of times I've switched between stoops in one forty-minute period because I keep getting kicked off. Oh well, at least we've still got book dealer man and foreign woman with sunglasses, and late nights with a bottle of tequila badly hidden behind my right leg.
10:27pm 06/03/2004
  Not quite stoop news, but the closest thing.

For all of you who had a chance to experience the joy that was a couch in the garbage--I feel your pain. I miss the couch, too.

Hard stone has just lost its appeal.

Dear couch,
I miss you. If you wanted to return, that would be nice. Please leave all your new homeless and bug friends back at the garbage dump.
Hoping to see you soon,
     Read 1 - Post
11:43am 06/03/2004
  We sat, yesterday.

We sat because it was six PM and because the security guards were long gone; we sat because we could, and we sat because it was raining.

The stoop was ours, for ten minutes.
08:44am 04/03/2004
  Let's consider the facts, shall we?

Last year they say we can't go on the stoops anymore.
September comes. We go. Nothing happens.
Oh, wait. We get kicked off five stoops on the southern side of east 95th between fifth and madison.
We move across the street.
We are kicked off three stoops there.
We go to east 95th between park and lex. Get kicked off two stoops there.
So we move to THE STOOP. The one across from the ABANDONED, WRECKED COURTYARD. We wave at the security guards.

Life is great.
We make friends with the people who live in the building. We shift between the three depending on where the sun is.

Suddenly, we're kicked off.


Jesus Christ, kids! They don't even want us on the east-97th church steps anymore!

So here's my question: It wasn't me, so which jackasses were rude or messy?

And here's my second question: How shitty is it that we have to STAND under SCAFFOLDING?
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08:47pm 03/03/2004
  "Stoopy McStooperson" (and I don't know which one of you guys I'm referring to):
I miss you but not a lot.
I love you but I'm not in love with you.
There must be better things to do on stoops than smoke and bitch...things involving fire. Eh, who knows.
01:41am 03/03/2004
  dearest stoop,

throughout my seven year sentence, you were always there. comforting. consistent. & what a backbone. you stood by me when the going was tough & the (not-so) tough got going. i remain apologetic for the trash i left you with, hourly; that i left at all. there were people to do & things to see. you understand.

still, i've been missing you a lot, as of late. this is selfish, i know, & you needn't take me back, but the facts remain: no other compares. you are at once firm & graceful, stony & warm. when a girl lights up, she's gotta have a nice place to park her ass. i've seen a lot of stoops in my day, baby, but you've got a way. yes, you've got a way.

oh, my saving grace.
my staying love.
my stoop.

a.m. rooney, esq.

p.s. how lovely that the (nicotine) torch has been passed. take care of my girls, you hear?
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04:00pm 19/01/2004
  this doesn't really have a point, but i'd just like to share that it is 4 p.m. and i haven't even begun my socials paper. i am listen to a shitty punk cover of leaving on a jet plane. chewing gum. and OH BOY do i want to be back in school.

...all your base are belong to us.
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10:17am 19/01/2004
  Joy and I were smoking in the foyer on friday afternoon, when the super came by and said that one of the tenants had called her about us smoking. So she asked that we not smoke in there anymore.

Oh yes, and there is a delectably hot young man that lives in that building. He offered to open the door to let us in even further, but we declined.
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07:34pm 18/01/2004
  So, essentially, I'm withdrawn.

Not from nicotine, because I still haven't got an addiction-- but from the stoop, and our little morning chaos; the mayhem of trying to discover whether "general concensus" applies that day, and the bitter cold killing our fingers as we smoke at different rates, with or without gloves. What I'd give to walk into the scaffolding again! There hasn't been any rushing to history class reeking of poison, no meeting of the TEAM and our asian counterparts, no badass blatant smoking nor hidden covers when Ms. Fox strolls by. I miss our little perfect social scene. I miss having a place to go. This sitting at home all weekend is doing wonders for my ego, but is making more and more antisocial. I need to bitch about our exboyfriends, and assholes who try to make us feel bad. I need to feel the first buzz of the day, and I need to see the world through the foyer's glass door.

I miss everyone, but only because I'll see them in two days. And I miss screaming, because my mouth's been shut since Friday.
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