I need an apartment.

Today my landlady told me she needs me to move out. Not because she is some evil corporate honcho looking to price-gouge her tenants, but beause she is sick and having surgery and needs a full time nurse to move in. Sort of hard to argue with, especially since her eyes were welling with tears as she told me how sorry she was. I had no plans to move, and have no money to move. I feel like I have been dumped by a long time boyfriend. (It probably says something about my relationships that I equate eviction with romance, but whatevs.) This is the first time I had my own apartment. MINE. And I love it here. And I will continue to love it until the day I move out out of here and move into some overpriced tiny dark hole in the wall with 12 roommates in three months from now. Speaking of which...anyone need a roommate?

My phone charger also chose to die today, which was great because after I came back into my apartment and had a nervous breakdown for half an hour, I couldn't call anyone. I went all the way to Atlantic Center to be told they were out of chargers. Of course. I don't mean to bitch, but I have really had better days.

So I will rhapsodize quickly about my old apartment, which I also loved, on East 1st Street, and the Cycle Sluts years.

My friend Ginny, who was in the band the Cycle Sluts from Hell, had an apartment for many years on East 1st Street. Over the years, it seemed that everyone of our mutual friends had lived there at some point or another -- Betty and Donna from the CSFH also lived there at various points, as well as just about everyone I knew on the Lower East Side at the time. Ginny finally moved out to take care of her boyfriend who had been in a terrible motorcycle accident. My friend Lisa and I moved in and lived there for about 4 years.

First street was sort of dicey when we moved in -- lots of drugs etc. Donna once got stabbed in our hallway (she survived), but it had mellowed a bit by the time we got there. It was a cool street. There was a playground across the street, a juice and coffee shack on the corner right next to the train. There was a storefront that was rented out by a weird Japanese performance artist that would stand in the window and play guitar with weird lights and wear an all white outfit every night on the weekends for hours. What was weird was that he had no audience and he would just stand there and play. There was also a Catholic charities homeless shelter on the block. It really exemplified the way the LES was back then -- a real mish mash of people all thrown together.

Lisa's sister Raphael, was also in the Cycle Sluts, and managed Coney Island High. As a result, we hung around the band a lot and reaped the benefits of being friends with rock stars. The Cycle Sluts had started out as a romp: Betty, Donna, Raph, and Ginny all worked at the Lismar Lounge on 1st Avenue together, which was a really cool small rock club. They and some other girls started a fake gang called the "Cycle Sluts from Hell" and eventually put up a show at the club, I think doing covers. One thing led to another, they wrote a few songs, and then they got signed by Sony, made a record, and went on tour with Motorhead. They had a cult following: their video was on Beavis and Butthead, they were on Headbanger's Ball on MTV, etc.

The things that I remember specifically about hanging out back then: I dropped by a rehearsal and Bebe Beull and LIv Tyler were there -- Bebe, who has gone on to romance or marry everyone of my downtown rock guitarist friends would sometimes drop Liv off at Cycle Sluts rehearsal and ask them to keep an eye on her. I met a lot of rock stars cuz of the Cycle Sluts: Tracii Guns from LA Guns loved Raphael, Betty dated James Hetfield from Metallica for a while, Sebastian Bach was a fan, etc.

One time they played a show at the Limelight, which back then was a big deal venue. To get on to the stage you had to walk on to this catwalk and down these stairs in full view of the audience. Lisa and I walked out on to the catwalk to find a good place to stand to watch the show and suddenly the crowd went nuts. Apparently they mistook me and Lisa for members of the band. I got the rare privelege of having 2,000 excited fans screaming and pointing at me. Lisa and I waved at them and blew kisses. Eventually the real band came out, but we had our rock star moment which was fun.

The great thing about the Cycle Sluts was that they turned the tables in a really male dominated world. It was a lot of fun to be a part of: they had groupies, they would get free drinks, they had crazy tempers. (Which they often took out on each other: believe me, you haven't seen a fight until you have seen two girl rockstars trying to kill each other.) All of the accoutrements of rock stardom.

They eventually broke up and went their separate ways. Recently three of them have reunited and occasionally play shows together. Going to those are amazing because people I haven't seen in years show up to them and it's like an impromptu Lismar Lounge/Scrap Bar reunion. Good times indeed: