sunday, june 17

Just got done watching Fight Club. It’s one of those movies/novels I wish I’d written – mixing brutal, testosterone-drive violence with anti-capitalist, anarchist ideology. And Helena Bonham Carter hasn’t looked this good since Miss Honeychurch in Room With A View.

I visited my neighborhood grocery for the first time since it’s been made-over. I walk up and a guy is waiting to welcome me and asks if I need a cart? What? This is strange. My ghetto grocery has made a step forward. The inside was mostly redone – not as garish and 60’s-reject as before. Things were much cleaner. Very different from the hellhole it used to be. I may even trust their deli. Happy to learn that honey-roasted peanuts have very little more carbs than dry roasted. I need something crunchy to munch on. I’ve got lemon marinated chicken finishing baking in the oven and I just made a salad for the meals tomorrow.

There is something inherently erotic about the little Yoplait yogurt Expresse things. A carnal wink as I wrap my lips around a long tube and then squeeze it from the bottom up to feel it’s sweet parcel pour into my mouth. I’m thinking they test-marketed on nymphomaniacs. ‘For the last time people we can’t make the tube any thicker!’ At the same time I do not feel I could consume one of these yogurt-on-the-go treats in public. It’s way too connotated.

Very busy weekend. Friday called all my actors to offer them their roles. Over half have accepted so far so that’s good. Might have to re-cast some if I get any more rejections. That night I went over to Karen’s and slept through Oh, Brother Where Art Thou? and watched Quills. I liked Quills from the idea that no matter you what you keep creating. Even if you are chained naked in a dungeon you write your story on the walls in your own shit if that is what it takes. It also got me a little inspired to start writing some dirty prose.

Let us rejoice and be glad: Vidalia onions are in season. If you have never partaken you must pick one up at your grocery and integrate it into your cooking.

Film shoot all day on Saturday. I was the first shot of the day and the last. So I thought I’d go home in between, right? They drop me off at a train stop and then I realize that this part of the blue line doesn’t operate on weekends. So I take the Cermak bus to Madison and start walking east. Through the projects. I got off the bus and looked around me and thought, ‘I’m not safe here.’ Definitely felt like a moving target. Finally a taxi came by honking at me to see if I need a lift. I got in and fell asleep – fucking ride took forever though. Then I got home and had about an hour and a half before I had to go get back on the train and do the whole thing again. Not a great use of my day. Should’ve stayed there and hung out instead of traipsing. Went to Tommaso’s and we had Leona’s delivered and watched some episodes of Sex in the City. I hadn’t watched any of it before… thought it was alright – I can see why everyone loves it – I like the Seinfeld aspect to it. Sunday brunch at Feast for Lingo’s birthday – I had a mimosa – it was yummy. And a smoothie and a garbage omelette. Brigitte and I shared a dessert called Chocolate Nemesis. Came home and promptly ran six miles and then started my usual Sunday cleaning spree in preparation for the week. Tomorrow is a hard day at work – we’re testing this web app that a third-party vendor has been developing for the past few weeks. I’ve written and delivered all the testing scripts. I hope things go well. I’m packin’ just in case. Olivia is gonna be one of the Lovabulls! Felt very 20-something at brunch as we all sat around and discussed our weeks and our lives and our jobs over our omelettes and cocktails… every once in a while Madison Avenue gets it right.






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