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.
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