a chai tea and the moonwalk is the best cure for loneliness

the day post CMAs in Nashville is pretty ridiculous.

especially when you run into carrie underwood at the BMI offices while delivering flowers to an agent named Ted Roosevelt.

Last night I put on a suit and scarf and went to a cathedral to watch some Treveccans sing in a choir concert. I walked in there with my sunglasses on, shoes clicking in a terrible acoustic nightmare and sat in the front row. 7:28 p.m. After the singers finished, the conductor suggested we all stay to hear the strings. I got up, and clicked my ass all the way back down the aisle and left.

7:48 p.m. Arrive at Fido and drink a chai tea, read the nashville scene, listen to some anorexic hipster boys talk about nonsense behind me. i felt as though they had undergone their first sexual experience the night before and were now not sure how to bring it up.

8:40 p.m. Got to Tribe, ordered a gin and tonic. Buttons asked if I wanted anything else, but I politely declined, and sat there looking like a loser for about twenty, with kylie minogue videos playing in the back. sara luton finally called, and i met her and a few others at mafiozas.

we went to mcfaddens on 2nd, we listened to the new britney all the way down and discussed the societal impact of a working mother in the entertainment industry.

got $2 drinks until i won a moonwalking contest and got a free shot of some red stuff.

i was in bed by 2:48 a.m.

i think.

another day another dollar.

isnt that schmexy?


last night i saved my housemate from her fifth blue valium and a sketchy bartender named MIKE.

my grandfathers methods of incentive have been getting mixed reviews, results, and reactions from this end. things should get better.

i am meeting pete wentz this evening.

i have been on a diet of steamed broccoli and cigarettes though, so i should look sufficiently glamorous enough for the occasion.

old habits die hard.

its a beautiful day in the neighborhood

11:30 A.M.

Walked into the American Federation of Music on Music Row. It is gray outside. Aubrey and I spend fifteen minutes interacting with 60 year old Country Barbie at the counter before we realize all the execs are at Porter Wagoner's funeral at the Opry House, and since my grandfather thought Porter was a freak we were not in attendance.

Then we went to a costume shop and bought a John F. Kennedy mask. The lady at the counter was wearing Versace glasses and had perfect teeth, but I recognized her at the nightmare-inducing witch from the commercials for the shop. I told her she was often featured in my nightmares and she said that turned her on. We left.

I pick up some doughnuts, by request of my grandfather.

We get back and he has a meeting. Three pseudo-important people sit around chomping on doughnuts and I needed to sit there and take the minutes. I chewed on the doughnuts and spit them out into napkins when people werent looking because I must stay faithful to my crash diet that I have recently undertaken.

I told my grandfather I needed to go to the gym and had to leave work early.

"Gotta get yourself in shape for the casting couch..." he said.

"Yah," I said, and fluttered out the door.

now I will do 300 hundred crunches and jump rope until I pass out.

Then I will go to the Alleycat lounge and drink Blue Valiums until they have to carry me out on a stretcher.



how was your day?