2005-09-30 - 9:19 p.m.

i've worked a 14 hour day and i finally sit for my first sitting and not driving or eating while standing and leaving meal and a fucking fly lands on my pasta. fucker.

a miracle occured last night. martha the amazing cleaning woman called and i begged her to save me before my hire came in the afternoon. i don't know what i would of done. i organized quiet a bit and basically took everything else that i can't control with a laugh. (like my huge shipping area, my enormous inventory area, which is a snuggled two foot corner of my bedroom that used to house the astroturf scratch pad and my shoes.

i'm going to murder this fly. landing on my elbow.

so whats wierd is that i had an easier time than i thought letting the hire know what to do. i think it has a lot to do with her. and the last one. i felt so uncomfortable with the last, like i owed her something. note to self, my intuition about people who went to usc has always been right. it attracts a certain princess work-be-gone attitude. no hustle.

this pasta rocks. i can't keep my mouth off it's ballsack. i always seem to notice too soon that i'm on the last piece. oh my, i just licked the plate. :*)

we know i'm comfortable with someone when they bear witness to the lick fest.

so tonight i somehow am rallying to go out with lizard and my indian guy friend. i make this friend host movie night so i can work and watch flicks. plus he has great booze.

is that wrong to like someone for his makers mark?

so we are going to some kids thing, sure that its kids r us. music and art stuff blabla. clarity, they are doing live painting. you should do that at parties, i think you do already at client things.. in general i think the ones i go to are okay, it's become a bit clishay (clee-shay) out here.

i woke at seven a.m. to organize the tornado and usher in the cleaner, you could barely walk past the door. climb is more accurate. then the hire came and we did bunch of work. downtown, bad traffic. lunch in car. went to manufacturer of silver and gold. came straight back to clients at a post production house. back to back rubs till 8.30. and here we are. that's how you spell c o l l a p s e .

so the hire is blowing me away. i'm feeling very shy about how rad she is. i see no red or even pink flags. the only possible one is if i can afford/keep her. as she's talented and poor and this biz will have to kick some fanny to be able to move her to fulltime like she needs it.

breath.

breathing.

now ddrinking wine.

you know how we do.

i feel like walking into the other room and passing out after i pretend to read a few pages of my book. i've actually nailed it to a science. i've learned to fall asleep *while holding the book perfectly upright*. i like to believe i can do it all, and finish off the night with a read. so stubbornly trying to squeeze the last drop out. my neck is killing me. i think *i* need a massage.

i was working on this one guy tonight and i was like, "stopppp it. this IZ what pheramones are." he was big. tall. big. with soft, playful hair that smelled like a big baby. and he was so easy and stressless. and i realized once again,,, i'm ripe. so ready to tumble. and i want him to be enormous like this. i want to be crushed by him. no more feather fucker.

i do not want to be bigger, taller, more expansive, more ambitious, more full or take less time in the closet to get ready. no pansies plz.

wow. hmmm. i just really want to go to bed. i know i will get nearly nothing from this night. here's what i look for qt with friends: too tired.
qt conversations: highly unlikely
inspiration: slightly possible, could be too tired and too over everyones irony and their synicism about irony. over all the hipsters that bitch about hipsters.

i'm so tired. i know

i'm researching what lexapro is.

the devil in me wants us all to disappear... levitate. allieviate.

and learn to spell.