Today, finally, the earth wasn't trying to push me, pull me, or sweep me up into its gusting hemisphere. So Fahema and I went exploring. We didn't find anything, except some irish curry, and a dog park, but on the way back to my apartment, a group of paparazzi huddled across the street from a popular restaurant. They were waiting for Gwen Stefani. ( Read more... )

I saw Janeane Garofalo on my street, walking her dogs. She is tatted the fuck out.

Last night I met Fahema in Williamsburg for dinner and $1 PBRs. On the way home on the subway these french people sitting next to me (who did not reckon that I could understand them) were saying that I look like a cat.

Meow.

I moved into a new apartment. The building is old and dirty. My room is ridiculously small, and the walls are purple. I like it, though, and it will suit me until October ( Read more... )

It is 6:12 in the a.m. and I haven't slept yet. And it's not because I was like, double-fisting 40s of Steel Reserve or doing lines of coke off a Marshall head at a spontaneous Guns n' Roses reunion show. Frankly, my roommate is out of town, and I often have a problem sleeping here (or anywhere, really) alone. It is for several reasons, the first ( Read more... )

I'm feeling a bit down because of a few things including (but not limited to): the temperature "feeling like" 106 degrees and the humiliating fact that I had to look up the word "didactic." Other causes of depression will not be revealed at this time and place because, well, this is just not that kind of livejournal ( Read more... )

Oliver and I spent a lot of the weekend drinking 16 oz. Budweisers and trying to arrange my fan (not-so-aptly called "The Blizzard") on my tiny desk so that it hit both of us equally on each side of the bed with as much Blizzardy power as possible. On Friday we went out to the Saves the Day bar with Fahema and I put Motorhead and Judas Priest on ( Read more... )

1. I got a part-time job at American Apparel in Noho. Dov Charney is going to make me wear mesh and get sweaty and take polaroids ( Read more... )

Last night was what I might refer to as outrageous ( Read more... )

JM's turn ( Read more... )

Just saw Julianne Moore walk by my apartment, trying to look oh-so-incognito with big sunglasses, a hat, big cargo shorts, and a men's button down shirt. Well hello, Clarice.