I've got the Willies

T Bone Burnett is officially and slowly driving me to the brink of insanity.

I hate owning a car in Chicago rant # 2456

My parked car got side swiped by some drunk fuck last night. I guess there is a downfall to living next to a bar.

Perfect for PBS

Apparently the label pitched the Flaming Lips to Joe. He went around asking what we thought, if they'd be a good band for us, "yes, yes, yes, yes, show's super fun, a real spectacle" from everyone.

End of conversation.

At what point should we tell him about the furries, confetti and this entrance?

Aspirations

Remember when I wanted to be a journalist? My dream job entering college was to be an editor at Esquire. What a joke.

I've been on the submission board for a literary pub for awhile now. I forgot how much I lovelovelove editing. Our next volume's theme is fears. I think I will take the opportunity to write about my issues with the deep blue.

You know what sucks about not being able to swim? Not being able to swim! But that's not all. I feel as if my miserable standoff with water can be used to my advantage, for once. I shall funnel my shortcomings into a provocative and hysterically witty piece of non-fiction. In your face, water deeper than 6 feet!

HDR Recap

I had to be at work at 7:45 this morning for this new DTC process were doing for The Fray. For those of you non-suburb commuters, that means I had to leave my house at 5:45. Despite leaving 2 hours early, I still got to my office at 8:15. I usually get to work around 10. It feels like lunchtime to me. Our taping season is starting up soon, with two more Kenny shoots littered in between. Also looks like we're taping in LA in November and in New York January 24-27th. And Quinne by New York, I mean Brooklyn. And by Brooklyn, I mean DUMBO. What's the deal with that? I've already done the majority of my busy work today, so expect a sharp increase in mundane, babbling blogs (see below, and eventually above) as the day progresses.

1051 North

I distinctly recall being on a train from Barcelona to Florence having a fleeting thought along the lines of, god I hope nothing happens to me because nothing will ever compare to this and I must see it through. I was only reading Beat lit, inspired and driven completely by passion and the moment and taking life by the reins. I wanted a Diver and a Cassady and a Miller and he was the best parts of all of them for me. I overwhelmingly looked forward to Italy and romance and life. Venice turned out to truly be my favorite place in the world. Chad and I barely slept while there.

Before the sun came up on our last night, hours before our plane ride to our last european city, and days before we returned to the states, we wandered the canals and the alleyways and gulped wine and grappa and smiled and inherently knew the trip would be one of the best times in our lives, wherever we both wound up. We stumbled into our room, pushed open the shutters, and yelled amore to the city at the top of our lungs. Venetian tradition. That memory always pops into my head at the strangest of moments. That was four years ago.

It was pouring on Wednesday. Driving was impossible and I had that fleeting thought for the first time since. Don’t get in a terrible crash and fuck this day up. Closing day. Despite everything, this is where we wound up.

Touting “a little of this bubbly” raising the bubble bath and “a little of this bubbly” raising the champagne, I danced up the stairs, throwing a piece of clothing behind with each step. He followed slowly, smiling and admiring. The stairs and me, both are his.

He leaned on the master bath doorframe, smirking. That smirk won me over in the first 5 seconds, almost 9 years ago. “Don’t put too much in.” “A little of this bubbly! A little of that bubbly!” and I plunged in, each bottle half gone. Superego and id.

I had never prepared a Jacuzzi tub. So there we were in an inch of water and a cloud, laughing and marveling and loving that this could be every night. He sat and smirked as I made up new house songs and covered his face in bubble beards and when we kissed it felt like it was the first time.

And clad in new matching towels, we venture to our deck with the most fantastic view of the skyline, and he opens the card and we dance and dance and dance and when the song ends, he screams amore off of our deck.