Saturday, December 5, 2009


So, I'm reading erotic poetry tonight in a lingerie store. Did I mention that I never became a concert pianist because of my stage fright? How could I have forgotten that lovely detail? The morning began with two sips of coffee and then a quick rush to the bathroom. Subsequent trips to the bathroom have been made, hopefully it'll all be out of my system before the reading.
That would be awesome, all that sexiness ruined by me puking all over the store. "Sorry we can't sell you that bra because our resident writer chundered on it. No, we didn't get to hear her poetry because of the gagging."
Sweet Jeezus.
In other news, as I'm wondering if I should bring my prescription nitroglycerin to the reading (how sexy is that, btw, heart meds to go with my black hooker boots) my bedroom has been gutted down to the studs. The original plan was "I'm just going to take these shelves out to create more space." That morphed into me sleeping in Lucian's room, unable to get to my sexy outfit because the closet (which is now a hole) is covered with plastic and who the hell knows if the clothing in there isn't 1)Rotted with condensation or 2)Covered with insulation dust from the 1920's and smells like mouse shit and lead.
I will attempt a shower, see if that helps, if not, I think I have an emergency Ativan in the car. Not sure, though.
Did I mention that I had a piece of cake for breakfast and a clementine for lunch?

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