Wednesday, November 26, 2008

Crap. I slept through class today, I am officially an asshole.
I dunno, it's so fucking cold. I am over the snowzen.
Other than that:
Grams is doing better and is now at a rehab facility and jokingly threatens to leave by kicking up her right leg. She is sharing a room with a spunky 97 year-old who loves to dance. I am going to remix Daft Punk and the "Charleston" and bring it home with me for Christmas. And then I'll turn their room into a little bitty Berlin. And then I'll tear down the separating curtain and declare it a free zone....for dance!
*I'm making a faux wooden wardrobe right now, I'm hoping that it will be both sweet and somewhat functional since my winter clothezen have no place to live.
*I've been to Poland twice in 2 weeks. I crossed the bridge over the Oder river and went to the small, cigarette-rich town of Stubice. I even went to the same restaurant both times; "Ramzes," the Pharoah-themed Polish Applebees. They had hieroglyphs and everything, shazam! Polish cigarettes are like one euro. And the Polish women are even cheaper! (No idea what that means or where it came from. No bother.)
*My roommate, the German/Italian actress slash musician is practicing for a role where she slices carrots in a scene. Our apartment is full of carrots. I just realized that I'm sitting on a carrot.
A sliced carrot! perverts.
*I have been slack about the art eventing, but I think Candace Breitz is speaking this weekend at the Temporary Kunsthalle, so I hope to go.
*I have a beer belly. No more beer for me until my sloshing, unruly Pilsner spawn goes away.
*As a replacement for my friend Risa's "Baby Thanksgiving," (see previous entries about unsettlingly small birds and baby-themed entertainment), I am spending T-giving with my new friends Joe and Emily who just moved here from Chicago. They are going to make Mexican! I am so happy. I miss tacos from El Chilito so much that sometimes I wrap myself in my blanket and pretend I am made of fish. And that I'm eating myself?
I think I'm delirious on art fumes; I can't open the window anymore because then I'll freeze to death. And I don't want to die with a beer belly.

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