Music: And I’ll see her when I wake…
Was in DC this past weekend; post about it later.
Location: 23:00 yest, hurtling down 9A
Music: I’m a cowboy, I got the night on my side
Went to see the musical Rock of Ages this past weekend as an escape from the rain in NYC. Was packed. Was also one of only two Asians in the whole crowd and don’t think I saw a single black or Hispanic in the lot. Dunno why.
Next night, played Monopoly for the first time in over a decade. One would think that it would be impossible to end up in jail six times in a row and nine times overall. One would be mistaken.
You and your luck, she said.
Lost a lotta hands. But won the game.
Maybe my life’ll be the same, yeah?
Just walked in the door after helping a little old lady fix her computer somewhere north of the city. Cost me three hours of my life.
But she helped me out some a little while back. Hate being in anyone’s debt and I never forget a favour. As a bonus, she gave me a bowl of ravioli and a Coors Light.
Dinner of champions.
YASYCTAI: Pay back a favour. (dunno/2 pts)
Location: in my thoughts
Mood: so very sad
Music: A long, long time ago. I can still remember
Got a call from Rain earlier to get together today. Made me think. What I wrote last year still rings true.
Y’know, there was a TKTS booth in the World Trade Center. Was 17 when I first went there to pick up tix for me and my girlie. Les Mis.
There was an escalator going up to the booths and the lines would sometimes snake around the floor as people waited for their tickets. Had a red Aiwa cassette tape player to keep me company while I waited. Two tapes and a cassette player – way before Ipods, kiddies.
The people in those buildings were ordinary people like you and me. It’s why when Chrissie Hynde said, We (expletive) deserve to get bombed. Bring it on, I hope the Muslims win, I got sick.
Cause, it could easily have been me. Or even her. Or some 17 year-old kid buying a ticket for his girlie. Someone could have called me, or my brother, or my kid sister, and said, Hey, let’s get together downtown. That’s exactly what happened to my buddy Bryson. Luckily, he always runs late. My high school classmate wasn’t so lucky. Those sons of motherless bitches murdered him a few weeks before his wedding. Disintegrated rather. Nuthin’s left of him. Nuthin. Poof.
I hope they lose. Cause otherwise, fools like Chrissie can’t speak her mind. Even fools like her deserve the right to speak our minds, no matter how stupid. No matter how obscene.
Cause obscenities are fought with words not 747s filled with people – even if they’re just simple words from a clown. Or a heartbroken 30-something C+ class womanizer.
Goddamn. They punched a hole in my pretty city.
They punched a hole in my home that’s still there.
Met up with old friends at Cafe DeVille the other night.
Him: So I’ve been asking girls how much it would take for them to pose nude for some tasteful photographs. Seems the going rate’s about $25,000.
Me: $25,000? I’d drop trou $5,000.
Him: Please – you’d do it for this drink here.
Me: (standing up and unbuckling)
Everyone: Whoa, whoa, whoa, Logan!!
Him: Whatcha you doing calling my wife!?
Me: Crap, you caught us!
Him: (laughing) How’re you?
Me: (pause) I’ve been better.
Him: (later) You’re luckier than most people: You’re living the single man’s dream. You live in Manhattan. And very few people go through life with even a handful of true friends. You’re blessed, brother.
I know it. God gave me everything. Just working through some things.
My mom called me. She said that the funeral hall couldn’t fit all the people that showed up for the funeral. Turns out that grandma died of an enlarged heart. Find that strangely fitting. Shut the door to my office and quietly broke down.
Saw Heartgirl for dinner in Jersey by the pier cause she’s leaving. Was beautiful out but we could see lightning over the city in the distance. Even though she doesn’t speak German, I told her, Die dunklen Wolken sind bedrohlich.
I’m le tired…
Location: 2:00, tossing and turning in bed
Mood: le tired
Music: When will I know that I really can’t go
Him: You’re on the guest list. It’s an anti-Valentine’s Day party at the Chinatown Brasserie. Everyone there’s single plus it’s catered with an open bar.
Me: (sigh) I’m in not in town. Last minute gig came up. I’m out, first thing in the morning.
It’s snowing when I exit the pad for the Rainbow Room. I’m wearing my black tux with a black tee-shirt and pretty much arrive drenched.
Sheridan and I run into our buddy RE Mike, who’s still cuttin’ deals at the party. James Lipton, Richard Kind, David Zaikin, Tina Fey and Alec Baldwin are there – all’re pretty nice folk. The food’s killer and some chick from American Idol belts out soul. I also meet this woman who says she fixes people up like Phoebe Cates and Kevin Kline.
Her: You’re cute! I want to introduce you to my step-daughter. She’s beautiful and just graduated from Cornell. She’s Jewish though.
Me: Well, that I don’t have a problem with but…how old is she?
I’m heading out when a waiter says, I saw you looking on the ground. Were you looking for this? He pulls out Syd’s cap. I break out into a smile, shake his hand, and take a pic of him. All-in-all, onea my better Tuesdays.
This week, Sheridan’s at the Brasserie, Paul’s in China, Gio’s in Columbia. Me? I’m the only person beside the nightwatch in a frozen, upstate hotel. Dinner’s a protein bar and some rum.
Some days, you get scantily clad dancers, Ford models, and Beluga caviar on a cracker.
Some days, you just get the cracker.
Location: alone in 14020
Mood: so tired
Music: I am damaged at best Like you’ve already figured out