Get Myself into It
I lied to Ed Harris last night and he could totally tell. “I loved the show,” I told him at the after party for his new play that I have yet to see. He gave a curt nod, (kind of) said 'thank you', and walked off, leaving me to my own devices at the cheese table.
SO I headed down to the Financial District to see my roommate’s band play at a strip club called The Pussycat Lounge. Sorry, it’s not a strip club; it’s a topless bar. Whatever. There were listless naked chicks crawling all over the place. At least the band had loads of energy.
My life is so glamorous sometimes, I don’t know what to do with myself.
*no really, what should I do with myself?