(no subject)
today is new york pride.
i'm back from tribeca, came home to a quiet and decently the neat house. i made myself some tea right away and settled down with home.
it was a busy week. considering how lonely i was all day yesterday, you wouldn't have thought so. but i had new people nearly everyday. a publicist for left wing publishers and i had drinks and dinner and kicked it all into motion. (where i saw dana ong, which was almost another portent of what life is becoming/reverting back to. remember those days alexander? remember nineteen.) but that's WRONG . . .
. . . because first it was the long awaited union of dustin and myself! its true. live journal, you did me no wrong when that boy first tread your pages. i should be so lucky to find someone that nice every day. so then it was the publishing publicist . . .
. . . and then it was lunch with the woven shirts and outerwear designer from kenneth cole. and playing with his deer (literally) dog and we shopped. 15 dollar members only jacket at patricia field. bitches . . .
. . . and then it with drinks with the illustrious mr mike cruz at the vegan raw food restaurant he hosts for. drinks were sangria. dinner was obtained by crushing the birthday dinner of a recent participant in breast reduction surgery. musical theater ensued. drunk ensued. what i didn't do was end up going out after returning to tribeca around ten. but BIG LOVE. oh my big lust for you . . .
. . . could you believe there's more. there is. i mean its pride . . .
. . . last night the bear and sissy, and a friend of sisssy's and i went to chinatown and had alternately TERRIBLE + WONDERFUL cheap chinese kitchen crap. fried sticky buns with sweet cream sauce. and the sticky rice with pork wrapped in steam lotus leaf. walk walk walk after dinner. walk walk walk through little italy, nolita, west village, nyu, east village, to 1st and 11th. got a hookah at a place only to be eject by angry firemen half an hour after arriving. but! we all had beer and a hookah that we didn't get charged for because of the mass exodus of fleeing. okay, we just left without paying. but nobody stopped us . . .
. . . kenneth cole again. k.c and i went all over creation. and k.c doesn't even DRINK. or party. or get high. he's like a unicorn. but he's good company. and damn smart about his clothes. and other people's too. and i broke the rules and took him home. like i broke the rules early that week when i took the publishing publicist home. but i was completely in control the whole time. and i was a winner . . .
i'm dreaming a lot more these days. not daydreams. but sleep dreams. and they are intense.
i'm back from tribeca, came home to a quiet and decently the neat house. i made myself some tea right away and settled down with home.
it was a busy week. considering how lonely i was all day yesterday, you wouldn't have thought so. but i had new people nearly everyday. a publicist for left wing publishers and i had drinks and dinner and kicked it all into motion. (where i saw dana ong, which was almost another portent of what life is becoming/reverting back to. remember those days alexander? remember nineteen.) but that's WRONG . . .
. . . because first it was the long awaited union of dustin and myself! its true. live journal, you did me no wrong when that boy first tread your pages. i should be so lucky to find someone that nice every day. so then it was the publishing publicist . . .
. . . and then it was lunch with the woven shirts and outerwear designer from kenneth cole. and playing with his deer (literally) dog and we shopped. 15 dollar members only jacket at patricia field. bitches . . .
. . . and then it with drinks with the illustrious mr mike cruz at the vegan raw food restaurant he hosts for. drinks were sangria. dinner was obtained by crushing the birthday dinner of a recent participant in breast reduction surgery. musical theater ensued. drunk ensued. what i didn't do was end up going out after returning to tribeca around ten. but BIG LOVE. oh my big lust for you . . .
. . . could you believe there's more. there is. i mean its pride . . .
. . . last night the bear and sissy, and a friend of sisssy's and i went to chinatown and had alternately TERRIBLE + WONDERFUL cheap chinese kitchen crap. fried sticky buns with sweet cream sauce. and the sticky rice with pork wrapped in steam lotus leaf. walk walk walk after dinner. walk walk walk through little italy, nolita, west village, nyu, east village, to 1st and 11th. got a hookah at a place only to be eject by angry firemen half an hour after arriving. but! we all had beer and a hookah that we didn't get charged for because of the mass exodus of fleeing. okay, we just left without paying. but nobody stopped us . . .
. . . kenneth cole again. k.c and i went all over creation. and k.c doesn't even DRINK. or party. or get high. he's like a unicorn. but he's good company. and damn smart about his clothes. and other people's too. and i broke the rules and took him home. like i broke the rules early that week when i took the publishing publicist home. but i was completely in control the whole time. and i was a winner . . .
i'm dreaming a lot more these days. not daydreams. but sleep dreams. and they are intense.