I'm sitting here at my desk, at 11:44AM, with sunglasses on to shield my dried out eyeballs from the damage I did last night. I overdid it. That's not as disconcerting, considering it was Thursday night. Nor are the two rolls of late-night Polaroid film I shot last night of myself and my roommate during late-night. I can even overlook the strange behavior behind the roll of Polaroids I staged in my room and shot of myself after cocktails on Wednesday night.

However, the fact that I couldn't remember what I did earlier in the week...did I go out? NO, I MUST have gone to bed early those nights! Only to wrangle with my roommate this morning as we tried to revisit the events of the last four days ...couldn't remember...and finally came to the conclusion that Monday night we attended a fashion show/launch party followed by another party downtown and it was on that same Monday night when all three of us girls came home drunk and donated a polaroid of ourselves to the wall in the deli on the corner. To discover that that particular night wasn't last week as initially thought, but just on Monday, is disconcerting.

All of the nights are becoming a blur. And we have yet another party to attend tonight.

A friend jokingly commented today that I need to clean myself up....he said I'm going to be on VH-1 in about two weeks...he said they are going to find me living in Leif Garrett's house. What's worse, the proposition that I could be envisioned by a friend as destined to living there or the fact that I don't find that prospect unappealing?

On the upshot, I am becoming quite a talented photographer.

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