06.06.06

Number of the Beast, suckas. Git some.

I was supposed to be part of a Q&A at an NYU journalism class tonight, but I've been rerouted to a cocktail party on the Upper West Side hosted by one of SPF's sponsors. It looks like they might be giving away free sunblock. I pray there are some hors d'oeuvres, because I am savagely sparse at the moment. It seems I had such a good run of being flush and now I'm back to being a beggar at the feast. Would I come off as low-class if I started to stuff cocktail olives into my pockets? A plastic cup filled with guacamole for the road?

But brother, I would have liked to have gone to that NYU class. I didn't go to NYU for journalism, I didn't take any journalism classes, but it still would have been a trip. (I guess NYU's Dramatic Writing Program doesn't give a shit what I've done with my life...) I'll go anywhere people want to hear me speak. Seeing the disappointment in their eyes is priceless!

First big production meeting last night, with the entire creative team in attendance. It was like Christmas morning. What a fucking gift of a team! We are going to have such a kick-ass time. I am incapable of containing my excitement. I am a hand-grenade that won't stop exploding.