this imploding heart

Look what you've done to me.

Hello.

On Friday night, I purchased 2 pairs of mens slacks and one evening gown, Drank 3 glasses of Pabst, 3 whiskey somethings, and one shot of jager, and attended what might be the best party of my young adult life.

I was only able to see half the show, but the dismemberment plan was like riding on the back of a motorcycle in the morning with no traffic. Alisha and Patrickopie are as good as seedlings and cake mix and laughing till your cheeks hurt. The apartments above Graceland are weird and seem big when they're busting at the seams with people. I was barely able to move on Saturday morning.

Yesterday, I woke at 6am, rolled out of bed, donned aforementioned pants, and went to The Little Theatre on 19th. I wrote Ques from 7-9:30. I Q2Q'd with actors who behaved like angels from 9:35 to 12:06. I teched the motherfuck out of that show. I ate some orange chicken. I went to another theater meeting. I was in a reading with Paul. Art covered me in magic shell and ate me with a giant serving spoon it stole from the cafeteria. I almost killed someone. I banged my shoe on the carpet. Jaye made soup. It was great.