2007-01-06 - 6:59 p.m.
It’s Saturday night in New York City and I have $800 worth of new clothes piled on the bed behind me. The irony is I find myself with nothing to wear. I have pieces, but no outfits, no ensembles that pair well with others, that go with cocktails and clubs. I’m tempted to say FCUK it, and instead order up something on pay per view, grab a handful of creamers from down the hall and sip in room coffee and eat my strudel from Zabar’s and talk until morning.
Instead I’ll shower, and wear something that has flaws only I perceive, and I’ll go out and drink too much and have too much fun and find myself back in this hotel room at some point past the witching hour. It’s only that I’m getting old that staying in sounds better.
Zen and scurvy - 2007-01-17
Zen and shott time, or me - 2007-01-16
Zen and trying to stay warm - 2007-01-15
Zen and Butt Rock - 2007-01-11
Zen and Justified - 2007-01-08
Guestbook Notes