male models and bring me a goddamn dream

meet at lit - open vodbull bar - too much redbull - head to orchard bar - kids we know DJing - hot and horrible in the back room - loads of people there - on to hanger bar - cuuuuute (and very young looking) doorman - the ladies go home - back to orchard bar to meet j&d - can't find them for ages - run into c. - fall into talking with some dude - end up going to hang at max fish with him - he tells me he's a male model - i laugh - he does calvin klein ads - i laugh more - i just remembered taking the total piss of him and telling him he should just tell people he does stuff for the JC Penneys and Sears catalogues - he keeps bitching about how heavy his book (portfolio) is - that motherfucker actually was heavy, i felt it - his best friend is one of the ones who died as a result of that bad heroin that's killed a bunch of kids in the city in the past couple of weeks - we head to some after-hours party up on ave c - run into some coked-out-of-his-mind guy on ave c - we get a block away from him as the cops pull up alongside him - after-hrs party: good vibes for 4 in the morning - chatting to some french girl - realise we're knackered so j and i take off - say goodbye to model boy (aaron) - he actually was pretty hott - starting to get light when we leave - walk along ninth, planning on me carrying on over to 6th for the PATH, j. to head off down the bowery to chinatown - for some reason decide it'd be a good plan to walk down to battery park to watch the sun rise - by the time we get down there it's full blown daylight - but a beautiful morning and kind of a cool way to end another awesome, random, adventure-filled new york evening - finally get home at about 8:30 am.

i think i've been too totally caught up reading 'glamorama' 'cause there were definite moments last night when i felt like i'd slipped into glamoramareality. i guess it was just the model-and-drugs thing. i have a feeling i did some zoolander-style piss-taking of the poor boy as well.

in the past seven days i think i've had an accumulated total of about 25, maybe 30 hours sleep. i've currently been awake since 7 yesterday (friday) morning. aieee. too much redbull is baaaaaad. (plus the vodka. plus whatever else...).

oh, and my phone is kind of buggered and won't send text messages. anyone that even remotely knows me will know how much this is upsetting me.

i don't quite know how i'm doing it, or why i feel so comparably sane with that little sleep over a week. totally running on empty. i just want some motherfucking sleep, yo. where's the sandman when you need him? mister sandman...

[sunrise down delancey]