Okay, I might be overindulging this week. I woke up crazy fuzzy Thursday morning and convinced myself that my cell phone was lost the night before. I went back to Subtonic and searched all over, feeling super discombulated in the meantime. I, of course, didn't find it and began considering the fucked luck of losing a phone 3 months before gettting one practically for free and thinking I'd do an eBay search for a new one. And also that someone might be calling Madagascar from my phone. (Phone aside: my contract is up in May and I was thinking of getting a 917 number again. Anyone think it's worth it? The two people I know with landlines's long distance bill would thank me.) I moaned and whined about it all day and night, only to get home at 2:30am and discover that I'd left it my pants from the night before. (Yeah. I'm an ass.) And then I went on Friday night (and got a case of the fuzzies when bartenders at 419 I haven't seen in a good year and a half recognized me) and vomit is never a good look. Now I just feel like refried shit. I'll rest up tomorrow and Monday.
But the past couple of days have been fun. Alafairnadia and I went to a Playgirl party where they gave us the most swagtastic goodie bag (toys for days, dude) I've seen in a while. I saw yet another ANTM judge in the flesh -- which brings my grand total to 3 plus my wacky encounter with Janice. Since Twiggy doesn't count, Tyra and I crossing paths is now inevitable!.The mag itself sucks donkey balls. Way to make naked men really unexciting, ladies! The female nudity is about neck and neck in it for one thing and the whole thing is just thin and toothless. The only advertisers are like Boys Gone Wild and bigdickchatroom dot com or whatever. The best part of the night was free drinks, the not so much when the bartender kept coming up to where we were and then ignoring us. Lamer.
The most exciting part of my week has been a sudden influx of great new (to me) music. I DLed this really fun mix by Ulysses featuring "No Parking On The Dancefloor" (among other things I must get the names of) and I'm getting my Miami dancing conditioning on. I've finally accepted that I'm going to actually use My Space and I've been making friends with musician pages. Even discovered a new Prefuse production! Woo! (Speaking of him, "Illiterate Interlude" on the new album is hilarious. I actually have heard people say that about the last one. And people say dude doesn't have a sense of humor!) And I've somehow ended up obsessed with Gonzales and Cosmo Vitelli through some musical links I followed. Be my pal. Here's some songs:
TTC - Dans Le Club (Gonzales Piano Remix)
Daft Punk - Face To Face (Cosmo Vitelli Remix)
Push Button Objects - 360 Degrees(Prefuse 73 Remix)
And let me talk about this week's pet peeve: My job title is trafficker (traffic coordinator, if we want to be specific) and unless you work in marketing/advertising/production, you probably don't know what that means. (I, of course, don't talk about my job because I'd like to leave voluntarily and not be fired for blogging or whatever). But hey, I don't want to assume no one knows cause sometimes they'll surprise you. So when people do the annoying "what do you do?"/how does my job stack up to someone else's thing, I say "I'm a trafficker" and every FUCKING time, the reply is "human or drugs?" People, just no. It might have been chuckle worthy the first time, but now: no. Not original, just stop. Sorry. Had to let that one out.
Posted by Candicissima at February 18, 2006 06:05 PM