Friday night I saw Leif perform at Monkeytown. It was everything I had hoped for. He is a really incredible MC, and like 19 years old. Fabulous dancing. The crowd went wild. I had a blast. Post-show at Metropolitan was typically pointless, stupid, and mean.
Saturday I went with Bobo and Lazarus to a party thrown by Meli's friends from work. I had never in my life been around such beautiful people at a party. Ever. I danced sexy with strangers and they made jello shots and a girl felt too hot in her couture jeans so she walked around in her undies all night. It was crazy.
Sunday I met up with Jiddy and Bobo in the West Village to clear my head. We ate ices and walked around I went to dance rehearsal with Graphic Glory (the Dance Band). We made a dance movie to a particularly poignant mid-90s ballad. Get really actually excited.
Richert and I went to the first Summer BBQ of the season at the Metropolitan. Crowded but not full of enemies, as I expected. We lived real FAG CITY when Richert, Hunter, La JohnJoseph, Dan Fishback and Joseph Keckles all came back to my house to hang out on my room and talk about girls. We all went out for Mexican food at midnight. Francine and I ate excellent vegan burritos and then I ate excellent dairy dairy dairy chocolate canolis.
Yesterday I met up with Hunter, La JJ, Isabelle and Emma and had a picnic with my room mates in the park. While walking our friend Daisy's chihuahua with Jenny, a guy stopped me to ask if I was interested in modeling for a jeans line owned by the two European men following him. They wore all black and dark sunglasses and took photos of me with their iPhones. Speaking in French about what could they possibly have me wear? I heard the word 'hoodie'. Went to a bbq on our friend Sara's fabulous roof. At one point, all of the Soft Butches were sharing our house business in front of friends and starting, I guess, to annoy folks.
Then our landlord called to say that they're raising our rent. I mean, it's been a long time coming. We haven't had a lease since August of 2006, when our admittedly fabulous 4-bedroom williamsburg heaven was going for well under $2500. So: I get it. Rent increases suck. It ruined my afternoon, briefly. Walked home with Jenny and Jamie, decrying the rent, trying to figure something out. I don't want to move, I love my house. I guess I need to make more money.
Today at work, worked out that my last day of this, The Best Job I've Ever Even Heard Of, will be next Friday. It still hasn't really sunk in yet. I'm getting back in touch with my old temp agencies. Yuck. Researching unemployment benefits. I've been called in for an interview at a Gallery, as well as an audition for the modeling gig for the jeans company. Both appointments would be happening this Thursday and Friday, during the all-day panel meetings at my current job. Note: the only reason this fabulous organization hired me, really, was so that I'd be at the panel meetings. Ouch. Everything happens at once. I need to get a few much higher-paying jobs, and pronto. Much higher-paying.
And Mercury is in retrograde. So all of this is subject to revision. Which makes me want to totally flip out. Last night after our landlord called, the Soft Butches and I started going into dark places. I found my dark place at the bottom of a tub of guacamole. My friend Rebecca patted me on the shoulder and said "Now, just because you're rent's gone up, that's no reason to give yourself indigestion." Which is true. Okay. Let's try to keep it together.
And I just know we'll have a good time.