To begin, here are some photos from LA my friend sent on his iphone!
New York holds opportunities for me. There is a history here, for better or worse.
Moving to williamsburg means that I meet people all the time who live just a few blocks from me. Insanity.
Spent 14 hours wednesday as an extra on a feature film. An englishman in New York about Quentin Crisp (english tranny of the 80's). Glitter, 80's costumes, flirting with models and punk kids all day. Had to cancel a date (oops =/) but made money and overtime. ate delicious food and fucking SHUT DOWN MCDOUGAL ST. There is something about tourists watching you make a movie. It makes you feel important.
I got my first SAG voucher. Two more and I could be SAG. Thinking about agents and agencies. I met people who make a living off extra work. It pays well...
Thursday was more work, then a few drinks with a silly round-the-corner friend who broke his ankle (delivery beer. good friend, hm?). The problem with drinking beer before 10 is by 10- you're exhausted. More friends and cuddling and hummus with broccoli and carrots.
We need to touch each other more, darlings. All of us. Much more. I don't get enough close contact.
Friday I met the boy who hired me off craigslist to be his "muse". A suprisingly decent individual, bushwick photographer, ex DC kid. wants to do a series about lust and desire and wanting but not having. I'm all about it.
I finally started BIKING (yay!) only to have my tube pop. Lame. I went to my first bike shop to get it fixed before the quickest drive by kiss and grind session ever.
Friday night was KESH's fashion show and Happy Ending Afterparty. Last time I went to the club (based in an old massage parlour) I couldn't get in. But when you're VIP and know the dude throwing the party and the girls who did hair and makeup, well- you're in. Chromeo DJed a bumping 90's set, I made cute shy girls make out with me. Sweatshop labor closed out the night with minimal techno.
All night people kept telling me I had a great show! It seems kesh's mildy shaved head of curls and mine have a small resemblance... You decide.
It was the leaving that left that drippy taste in my mouth. Ex-boyfriend strikes again. No reason to delve into why we were fighting publicly in front of the club, but suffice it to end with this small question: when will this cruel war be over?
sorry for the rather this and then this and then that quality of the post. busy and creatively lacking. on the job hunt and the overbooking myself problem. need a moment to reflect to think of a way to phrase things eloquently.
Just curl up with your comforter, hold your pillow close, and fend off the sunlight for another 15 minutes. Those fleeting dreams are worth it. I forget to only rush when I have to.