Wednesday

Lest you ever mistake me for a classy lassie, I'll have you know I just mixed Drombuie with Prestige vodka...because I am a sick, twisted, depraved, desperate fuck.

It's really not so bad.

Then again, I suck Prestige straight from the bottle, wipe my mouth and go, "It's not so bad."

I checked my mail and found a package from England stuffed in my box. Then I made dinner.



Is it really true that I don't own any silverware?

Yes, it's really true.

All I can think about is how I want to see how the roll I just sent turns out. But it will be another five to ten days before it arrives at its destination. And then who knows from there.

I am not sure what to do for this roll. I like taking pictures of people the best, but why why why? It all has to fit. I already did a majorly staged shoot, so I feel like I can't really do that again. For once I wish I knew what was on the roll.

Tonight I am seeing Siamese Guns and Spoken Arms at the Derby in Los Feliz. The camera is tagging along.

Everyday I come home, put my bike away, grab the mail key, check the mail, and then I test the water of the unheated pool here in my building. It is always too cold for a dip, and I know that, but I always check.

Just in case.