Sunday 29 January 2017

Dinner and a kick-ass show.

(For all of the alarmist emailers: the pills can reduce anxiety and regulate sleep. If I can do those two things in my life I'm fucking gold. For the rest of you? You're swell. Thank you for coming.)

In at two last night, naked and makeup-free and fed (not in that order, mind you) and in bed by three. Far too late with a busy week ahead but also a whole lot of rare fun. We had an oddly smooth evening, with a whole host of luck (last parking spot in our usual lot, last table in our favorite pub, a perfect view in the ballroom (for the Ascot Royals and Big Wreck!), too many drinks though it didn't affect a thing, no lineups, no sound issues, no fights. No weirdos. No glitches. Just fun. And my eyeliner stayed sharp all night (thank you to Kat Von D). My lipstick did not (F-you, Dior). Not in the least but I threw it in at the last minute and had I been smart I would have used one of my twelve hour workhorse reds (like duh, Kat Von D liquid or my almost-gone Lorac but no. So yeah. Not so polished so I just pretended I did a nude lip on purpose. Honestly? No one fucking cares except everyone loves my blue-red matte lips when I bother so there's that. 

Boys are weird. They're like 'you don't need makeup' and then when I wear some they're all 'hey girl'. 

LOL

I'm so tired. 

Tonight I'm going to bed at eight.

Maybe seven.