weird day

- Got expected but still startling call from first boy I ever kissed about social plans as he's back in NYC for the first time in ten years.

- Went to this bizarre Wired party with Patrick.
Steven Spielberg was supposed to be there, but was only so by video.
Tim Robbins was there, but then, he's everywhere, and the producer of Monk too.
Only Wired would have a party that would get the last people making money off the Internet boom together to use Ebay to bid on items in an auction to benefit technology for critically ill kids. I mean, it was so bizarrely self-congratulatory, and antisocial, but hopefully they'll raise a lot of money and that will be cool.

Then we hung out at roomie's restaurant, ate great food, used silverware to map reliationships and so forth.

- Came home, got random email on Tribe from an Australian girl that thinks I'm hot (go me), am debating seeing 1am showing of Matrix eventhough I am dead tired, etc, etc.

(no subject)

I'm trying to determine how I am today, but I'm not really sure. A lot of that is that I woke up with music in my head again, and it really colors my mental condition. Yesterday it was the Punch and Judy song from the show I just finished, today it was the medly from the end of Moulin Rouge, and I wonder if I had strange dreams to those sound tracks or just get things stuck in my head in my sleep -- which seems like a very unsatisfactory idea indeed.

I am being diligent today about casting stuff in a way I haven't for a couple of weeks, which may be part of the feeling of internal buzzing I have going on, even as I've been much calmer, much more solid, much more (thank god) matter of fact about it all. I haven't ached for the near impossibility of everything in a about a week, mostly thanks to the randomness of life and my own weird internal logic structures.

Scheduling going to Amanda's wedding is going to prove easier than previously thought, which is a huge relief, because there was definitely a point where I wasn't sure I was going to be able to make this a viable option, especially in the throes of the Citibank thing. A backpack, a laptop, a lot of batteries and 36 CDs should get me there... expect a horrific series of Audioblog road reports from god knows where. Still not sure why I am so compelled by the bus odyssey, but it seems like something I need to understand.

The odds of Sydney happening in January are absurdly low because of a range of logistics not entirely within my control or in fact having very much anything to do with me at all -- which is nice -- not being the fuck up. I do however have both a plan B, and a plan C, and I like having a goal to work for that is obtainable in the next 400 days or so, in a concrete way, as opposed to a luck and the will of others way.

I need to hang some more stuff on my walls, and clean my room, as I've hit my "I'm so completely annoyed I'm throwing stuff around my own space" point. Also, I type nearly everything you see here at my messy desk under my Velvet Goldmine poster ("if you wanna be a star... you better behave like one") which was really the first bit of self-amused aspirational anything that ever went on my walls -- I never even did that sort of thing as a teenager -- and it makes me happy, and it also makes me laugh at myself, which is really important. Any I have a Citizen Kane poster it took me _forever_ to find, and a absinthe print that both really need to be framed and find a spot, because they too will make me smirk daily. Although I think Citizen Kane may have to go in the living room, just because of my own evolution (which is too long too get into here).

I've got this sense of feeling really excited and wanting to blurt good news at people. I don't have any in particular, but I just have this feeling, like something great is supposed to happen at any minute now. Silly, probably, but there it is.

Tonight, I need to get to both the Matrix and the piano bar, probably in the opposite order, but maybe not.