puking
someone in my building has a drug problem and is always puking on the weekends. it's only springtime, you're too young to say you're through with love. i'll be different, boy.
- saint etienne, spring
i'm spending springtime (new york's excuse for spring) saying goodbye to my boy, personally. push back on the ideas of love that are difficult to reconcile with practical logistics. trying to balance out the love i have for my job with the constant frustrations of it and the way i push myself, which tends to get me to push others more than i probably should. i post my resume (wanna see? exhibitionist) online to get recruiters to hit on me, and my website on my aol profile to get horny and thoughtful guys to hit on me -- someday they will all coalesce into one hyperaggressive top who uses words like "amazing opportunity," maybe.
i'm not a super huge fan of franky (i so can't correct that typo) gehry, but i really liked this interview that he did. i am a major fan of east village restaurant mama's. for me to think about: utility nav versus functional nav (i am likely fucking these terms up, because i can't remember how a colleague of mine referred to them last night, 11pm, beers and pizza at toad hall). even thought h&m is the gap of europe, i, along with every other new yorker, cannot wait to check it out uptown.
i stand five ten with the open palms i'm dropping bombs with the urban psalms
- mos def and talib kweli, freestyle
talkin about work too much these days. is it passion or pathetic? more sex?
and i gotta redesign this friggin site, but i don't have any ideas. welcome, yours that.