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Yeah, it's public. Yeah, this, like much of this thing is for mysel--to keepsake the loverly things so as to not lose them to the ravages of memory loss.
Jammed through Friday, and as a result, was held up past my hourage of when I needed to be in LA...but I made it in time for my meet with Sean, Assistant Producer, read "Anthony's Bitch." Canters, rude waitresses, lists, non-sequitorial talk, and production planning. And then a trip over to The Parlour for a strategic planning session and a drink with Sean.
And then I gave in and went to Underground. I was planning to (and should have) just gone home, but I'm stupid. And they had free beer last night, so good for me. Hung with Liz O., Melissa Red, Dave, Alice, Drew, 'Asian' Mike and a cast of hundreds. Indy kids galore. Dancing, conversation, free beer, me rubbing my face on this chick's sweaty bossom (long story--it seemed like a good idea at the time...), and some conversation that stuck with me for a while, because it got under my craw...needless to say, I'll be doing a rant later on the nature of being Black in America...and how I'm sick of being mocked (even playfully) for not being "black" because I don't fit stereotypes...but I'll roar later. (Though I have to say, I love Liz for pointing out her reasoning on my liking Phish "You went to Yale." She's got moxy that way, that one does...bless her for being appalled at my music choice because...well, because of my music choice...)
Went home. Slept.
Got up today, planning on doing nothing, and was belayed by an onery grandmother...mom intervined and swept her out of the house to leave me be. Unfortunately, *she* decided to not leave me alone, and has called three times, the last of which was to ask me to go online and search for something...and I was really trying to avoid going online for at least another two hours...shit. There goes my evening plans...
What have I done today? I've listened to Jason Mraz, Quincy Jones, Muddy Waters, and Les McCann. I've watched Sweeney Todd, The Demon Barber of Fleet Street...Close Encounters of The 3rd Kind...and I've built a light saber.
I hate telemarketers. They irk me...be damned that they've got a job to do.
Jammed through Friday, and as a result, was held up past my hourage of when I needed to be in LA...but I made it in time for my meet with Sean, Assistant Producer, read "Anthony's Bitch." Canters, rude waitresses, lists, non-sequitorial talk, and production planning. And then a trip over to The Parlour for a strategic planning session and a drink with Sean.
And then I gave in and went to Underground. I was planning to (and should have) just gone home, but I'm stupid. And they had free beer last night, so good for me. Hung with Liz O., Melissa Red, Dave, Alice, Drew, 'Asian' Mike and a cast of hundreds. Indy kids galore. Dancing, conversation, free beer, me rubbing my face on this chick's sweaty bossom (long story--it seemed like a good idea at the time...), and some conversation that stuck with me for a while, because it got under my craw...needless to say, I'll be doing a rant later on the nature of being Black in America...and how I'm sick of being mocked (even playfully) for not being "black" because I don't fit stereotypes...but I'll roar later. (Though I have to say, I love Liz for pointing out her reasoning on my liking Phish "You went to Yale." She's got moxy that way, that one does...bless her for being appalled at my music choice because...well, because of my music choice...)
Went home. Slept.
Got up today, planning on doing nothing, and was belayed by an onery grandmother...mom intervined and swept her out of the house to leave me be. Unfortunately, *she* decided to not leave me alone, and has called three times, the last of which was to ask me to go online and search for something...and I was really trying to avoid going online for at least another two hours...shit. There goes my evening plans...
What have I done today? I've listened to Jason Mraz, Quincy Jones, Muddy Waters, and Les McCann. I've watched Sweeney Todd, The Demon Barber of Fleet Street...Close Encounters of The 3rd Kind...and I've built a light saber.
I hate telemarketers. They irk me...be damned that they've got a job to do.
