Saturday was probably the arty-est day I have ever had in my entire life. I went to the ArtSpace groundbreaking; pretty much all "new buffalo" people and a few local artists came to see what was up. I went for the food, and stayed for the tour.

Sometimes, karma is my secret weapon. With school starting, comes new bus schedules, new drivers, and a rampant influx of teenage hormones wearing the latest mannequin from Aero. Supposedly, two blocks is far too long of a walk to City Honors; we might scuff the new Nikes we'll only wear for a week. So... I get off work and walk toward my bus stop. Basically, my bus stop is wherever on Lincoln Ave that me and the bus meet up. Its called a courtesy stop, a driver told me they do it in the suburbs. I like it that way, saves me from the possibility of not gettin picked up on Walden, where the official stop is. Well, the new driver for the 6C wasn't fond of the courtesy stop idea. After stopping 20 feet past my location, he proceeds to insist that I wait for him at the "official" stop on walden from now on. I curse him to a polka-dot and plaid Barry Manilow hell under my breath. Pulling up to a stop near walden and bailey, karma cashes in a favor for me and the driver swipes a parked blazer as he nears the curb. The bus rocks and the blazer loses a few teeth. My act of karma was not totally free, as I had to endure running for my 20H transfer downtown because of the delay. But the icing on the cake was when I got to fill out a card with my information so the NFTA could call me to give details on the happening. I won't have to lie when I tell them the bus driver was an ass that day. On a fuzzy note, I saw Mark again! Me and Brent were walking down Elmwood and I saw him tutoring a guy on Bidwell. Mark is the man-love of Jennifer, a lovely Buffalo blogger gal. I saw him in starbucks a few weeks ago for the first time. I never met any of them, but its good to know that the people I read about in blogs actually exist. And maybe I like stalking cute guys?

Hmm.... Somehow I think the masons were thinking of the wrong Rick James when they carved this. James got stoned for for the last time when they placed his headstone at his grave, marking the two-year anniversary of his death. Fans of the flamboyant super-freak have been longing for ages for a gravestone to be erected, however, instead of a glittered obelisk with an Aqua-Net dispenser, they must make do with this black granite.... "thing." The $13,000 - Forest Lawn appropriate - monument was made in Vermont and was personally picked out by James' daughter, Ty. She wanted something "Tasteful. Simple. Nice," as Amigone stated. The laser etched visage of Ty's father will be the only proof that the man who took baths in glitter is buried there. Rock on James, Sorry you got a shitty monument. Rick James' grave can be visited in Forest Lawn near Scajaquada Creek lake by the Delaware S-curve. Via - Buffalo News

I saw a Forever Elmwood billboard today, as I progressed on my semi-ritualistic stroll from my humble studio on Elmwood/North to Spot Coffee, my source of internet and perch for people watching. It read:

Buffalo may be broke, but it doesn't have to be dirty. Don't Litter.

Buffalo's broke? Having more money for the city to spend would mean more money to be fought over. Not to mention more projects left in limbo while we argue over some ridiculous design requirement mandated by this organization that wants Buffalo to be as beautiful as it was in the 20's. I don't want Buffalo to be clean like Toronto, and I don't want some yupp'ed up village like Ellicotville. I moved here a year ago from the south, and I love it. Buffalo is a blend, a mosaic of different cultures and lifestyles, cleverly separated by ghettos. I have a crack alley behind my building, I'm a block away from Allentown, and I cross the street to do Laundry. For me, Buffalo has everything I could ever need. Quit bitching, we could be in Dansville.