Saturday, August 02, 2003
oh, it's great here. even if the tech is a mess.
the house we're in is full of smells that make me think, unclean. even if really they're just . . . foreign dankness. there are funny damp air spots, and some sort of migrating cat pee whiff that darts over the bed when i can't sleep.
and i can't. sleep. i'm turning into my insomniac parents. the monkey finally admitted that he feels almost trapped in our bed, what with my crabby reactions and deep sighs and tossing and rules about available light and mid-night bathroom trips.
like i said, tech was a mess. simplicity, you'd think, would be the watchword of these trips . . . sadly, that spirit is missing. more fucking hats and jackets and ridiculous lighting than i've ever seen--the whole show is lit by down-focussed un-gelled lights. in spots. blech.
but people seem to like us. and i heart being a broad abroad.
(the sandwich man called me 'love' yesterday.)
the house we're in is full of smells that make me think, unclean. even if really they're just . . . foreign dankness. there are funny damp air spots, and some sort of migrating cat pee whiff that darts over the bed when i can't sleep.
and i can't. sleep. i'm turning into my insomniac parents. the monkey finally admitted that he feels almost trapped in our bed, what with my crabby reactions and deep sighs and tossing and rules about available light and mid-night bathroom trips.
like i said, tech was a mess. simplicity, you'd think, would be the watchword of these trips . . . sadly, that spirit is missing. more fucking hats and jackets and ridiculous lighting than i've ever seen--the whole show is lit by down-focussed un-gelled lights. in spots. blech.
but people seem to like us. and i heart being a broad abroad.
(the sandwich man called me 'love' yesterday.)
