Wednesday, March 2, 2011
I can't really say that I've been sick of this. Really. I know because I still check it on a regular basis secretly hoping that everything I want to put out here has miraculously been written by me while I was asleep. But I don't know.
When I was working in fashion, styling at least three shows a week and being surrounded by clothes and thinking of clothes for more than 12 hours a day, 7 days a week, I never really felt like dressing up or looking at fashion rags. Some of the things I used to do for and used to think of as fun suddenly felt like a chore. Maybe it's the same. I got a job in publishing. I don't really write, except for those event/dining/what-have-you listings that never go beyond a hundred words. But I don't know. It still involves words and browsing through them and scanning them making sure everything is perfect. I have no idea, really. Maybe I'm just making up some excuse subconsciously.
It's already March 2011. We're coming closer and closer to the end of the world predicted by those ancient Peruvians. Hell, I really don't know and I really don't care.
It's been quite boring lately, the past couple of weeks. So the picture there, you see, is I think one of the highlights, for the lack of a better word. Ed McFarlane of Friendly Fires diving and jumping a couple of meters away from me.
I remember hearing one friend's friends saying during the concert that that Friendly Fires song, Paris, is one of the most depressing songs ever.
Posted by X2
Photo by X2