i am currently in a time of transition. i moved out of the time share in williamsburg and until i get the keys for the compound in bed-stuy i am staying with my boyfriend and his roomate/ex-girlfriend in crown heights. it is not as weird as it sounds.
except last night we all got really drunk in the living room, playing jenga. smoking cigarettes. we killed a couple bottles of wine and a good portion of a bottle of gin.
how the snoot made it to work today is beyond me.
i waddled out of bed around noon today and stood there looking at the wreckage. it was bad. cigarettes every where. empty bottles. toppled jenga tower. dirty glasses. but the part that puzzled me the most was the presence of a camera. a camera?
the last thing i remember is a falling jenga tower and then i was waking up naked in the bedroom.
after a certain amount of party the last thing you want is photographic evidence.
later in the afternoon, after wandering fuzzy headed and aimlessly with ms. roomie through manhattan we settled down at an outdoor cafe for a glass of dog hair.
after a few sips i managed to get out "was someone taking pictures last night?". she told me what she remembered.
i really hope those photos don't come out.
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