I now felt a kinship with the late 19th-century French romanticists. I�d gone from a stubborn Holden Caulfield to a swooning Baudelaire.
When we first met, he was sleeping on an air mattress on the floor of his band mate�s kitchen with the intention of eventually renting his own place. After he had overstayed that welcome, he moved into my apartment without asking, and without my really noticing. Soon I missed my solitude, the contents of my refrigerator and the money I periodically lent him (he rarely had even enough for subway fare). But I allowed him to feed his vices in my home and with my resources as long as it meant that he would allow me to feed my vice: him.
Still, I maintained enough sense to push him (though not very hard) to find his own place. And it was during this time, on an afternoon walk in my Brooklyn neighborhood, that he and I passed the dilapidated Greenpoint Hotel
Source link: http://www.nytimes.com/2007/11/25/fashion/25love.html?ref=fashion
She had been hoping to nab a Christmas present for her kids and maybe a laptop.
'We never do this,' she said, adding she doubted the items would be available. 'We're going to stick it out just to see.'
The line was significantly shorter at Staples, the area's newest big-box store, where only a handful of people were waiting about 3:30 a.m.
Reba Clapper, of James Creek, Huntingdon County, was patiently waiting for a laptop, bundled in a blanket against the cold. Next to her, another shopper slept on an air mattress beneath blankets.
Clapper said a friend who was in line at Circuit City had called and warned her to get there early if she wanted the computer.
'She had surveyed (all the stores),' Clapper said.
At the Nittany Mall, Samantha Buchan and mom Jennifer, both of State College, found themselves counting down the minutes until J.C. Penney's 4 a.m. opening
Source link: http://www.centredaily.com/news/local/story/269858.html
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