It all started really well with “Good morning Baby”: by Dan Wilson & Bic Runga playing in the background. At least I felt I could make it through the day (even if I now officially weight 142.5 pounds) without puking. But by 1:00 p.m. I had to take a Klonopin because some distant ultra conservative and very snobbish cousin of my mother and her husband (which are very good friends of my parents and unbearable) called to say they were driving from New York to have dinner with me (of all people). I had to cancel an amazing dinner party at the Gs and brace myself to look like a normal (straight(ish)) human being. I ran home at lunchtime to collect all my Têtu magazines and the pictures of my exe lingering everywhere, I also put away half of the beauty products in my bathroom.
I tried to book a table for there at Cashion’s eating place and was offered 6 p.m. or 10 p.m. What the f**ck ? we are not in NYC yet? are we ? Impossible to get the New Bourbon on the line. I am just planning a walk-in at Saint Ex which might turn into a walk-in to Local 16. It has been such an hectic day that I might have to pop yet another Klonopin to go through dinner.