09.12.04 - 10:39 p.m.

Technical difficulties - namely, the fact that my ancient Powerbook power cord finally bit the big one - have kept me away from the home computer all week. Not that I've had a chance to go to the crazy tech store on 23rd and 6th and try to find a new one. Other than stress-induced and recreational drinking, I haven't had a chance to do much outside of work lately.

The big show I have been bitching about and dreading and working way too hard on all summer finally opened. This caused much rum consumption, paid for by my boss. Thanks, boss. Now I get to work on the other clients' surveys etc. that I've been ignoring for the past month or so. Huzzah. End of work description.

There's really not much going on in my life that I feel warrants a lengthy narrative at the moment. I can't really discuss the specifics of work. I've been working a lot, and then sleeping/drinking in the evenings. Do I really want to hash out my Saturday spent at various overpriced wedding/reception sites throughout central Jersey? It's a nightmare I hope never to repeat again, and if Dan thinks the river restaurant is good enough after visiting it on Tuesday, I won't have to.

However, I will note the events of late Saturday night for posterity. After a roof party at Carey's new swanktastic apartment, Kerry and I returned to the UES alive, in one piece, and filled with a bottle of wine each. This was a time for drunk food. Perhaps a simple mac and cheese would do? Oh no, not for me. Somehow I managed to do it up homemade-style, with the freshly grated cheddar melted into a roux. There were no bread crumbs broiled atop the cheesy rotini, but really, did that matter? It was the perfect complement to the 3am showing of Almost Famous - just the thing to be shoveling into your mouth in between proclamations of how much you love Philip Seymour Hoffman and how every line would look great on a t-shirt.

Ah, drunkenness.