I felt like I didn't sleep last night. My friend in London is sad because she didn't get the job she really wanted. I'm sad for her. I tried to email her yesterday but just couldn't find the right words. It really doesn't help when they tell you that you "nearly" got the gig...
I made some porridge just then and typed away at a better reply email with my laptop perched on my "lap", while in bed. (It has only just occurred to me, that this is possibly how a laptop was always supposed to be used.)
So I'm feeling like every man and his dog is going to be at this tomorrow night. Sick. Projects will get a good turn out too from the overflow. In my restless sleeplessness though, I had a few important thoughts.
- you can't drink on the footpath at Projects even though I'm mates with their old sleazy security guy (ps. he's always got a lighter, if you are hunting one down)
- I like that Projects has the East Village next door for bathroom convenience
- Projects means Grolsch and not Asahi. I'm simple. Asahi wins.
Here's a link to a Fecal Face studio visit feature they did on Kill Pixie a while back. (I rate any guy that has an Eames Chair or even a copy of one. They are so comfortable. If you don't know anyone that has one, the Park Hyatt in the Rocks has a few of them in their foyer, that you can try out.)
Today is a hair cut day and also a painting day. Why hair cut? The mullet is re-emerging. This is what happens when you have short hair. You spend a fortune on its constant pruning. Why painting? I was walking home from the gym last night thinking I was bored with life and would give New York another go (as in blow a lot of money on a new city) when I saw a round piece of wood on Billyard Avenue. I rolled it home awkwardly. Today I'm going to prime it. Exciting.
(Actually, that's why I couldn't sleep. I couldn't stop thinking about what I should do with a round piece of wood. Geez.)
Somedays tonight? yes? no?
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