Had a dream last night about Alex Da Corte. I hope I get to see him again soon. The last time I saw him was at the Metropolitan. I realized my date had just stood me up, and I was about to storm off angrily I ran into Alex, who I hadn't seen for like six years. The last time I saw him he was so sick, and now he's not. And now he's getting actually really really famous, and deserves it. It was really sweet.
I have kind of a crush on this guy for the sole reason that he is deceitful and stupid and going about his life the wrong way (in my estimation). Affection is productive and distracting. The charm of the illicit. The sexy idiot, you know? The greasy meal. The leaky fuel tank. let's go down, together.
Resisting the urge to be a bitch. I sort of feel like using my words to divide the world into: a) people who get me and b) people who do not get me. I wonder if anyone switches teams, if that's possible.
My therapist, to me, last night: "I realized after you told me that story, that the response you have been having is one that people have when they come out of abusive relationships. I'm seeing some trauma there." That really struck me.
I love the windy weather. It reminds me of growing up in LA, where they have Santa Anna winds, really warm winds that drive people crazy. Beautiful. Makes me want to listen to PJ Harvey and smoke clove cigarettes. I wish I was with La JJ so we could let it ruin our hair together. Someday soon, I hope.
I'm off to a party, then another party, then another. This video. This record is why I moved to NYC.