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rue-madame's Diaryland Diary

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Beulah

I missed the last metro last night. The metro guy came down to the platform to tell all of us nighthawks to hit the bricks. It was really nice walking home through my empty neighborhood, thoughóI re-enacted a little West Side Story in the middle of rue Madame to amuse myself. Itís not just deserted streets that make me do this, by the way. I also come alive with motion detector outdoor lights. Of course, it takes some plotting and rehearsing and planning, but one youíve got it dialed, itís like starring in your own one-woman show. I strongly encourage everyone to do this. Itís best to have some kind of dramatic pose all figured outóI always picture myself ŗ la Bob Fosse with bowler hat in hand. Or if thatís too dancerific, pretend itís TV tag! Terence is never game because heís not a performer, but boy! show that guy a mattress or an abandoned couch on a sidewalk, and he becomes this bounding, elastic spaz-o-matic Tigger.

Ok last night, I saw Beulah, and they were so so so great! I even got to play the maraca (just one) on their last number and I felt like such a ridiculous music nerd. At least I used mine judiciously (per the lead singer Milesí suggestionónot like that crazy Spanish woman who was slobbering all over him and shaking her maracas if you know what I mean. Ewww) After the show, I met some of the band members, and they were right nice. I think Iíve seen them 8 or 9 times, and this is the first opportunity Iíve ever had to kiss their asses and tell them how great they are. In San Francisco, it is impossible to get anywhere near them because the wall of sycophants is usually 3 folks deep; but here in Paris, where they have not yet achieved the same level of stardom, they were just ordinary mortals playing instruments and having beers. This is the same fun thing that happened after The Aislers Set played. I got to talk to some of them too without feeling super idiotic and retarded.

But lest you think I have lost all sense of maturity and purpose, I actually worked like an adult today. On that flyer for the shoe manufacturer. I am at a disadvantage here in that I donít have a printer nearby so I canít check type sizes and reading comfort. Iím sure when the client got my last file, he grumbled about ďthose goddamn designers and their microscopic type.Ē Whoopsie. I converted everything to a condensed face and pumped everything up a few points. Hopefully, heíll be sastisfied. At this point, I donít even care about the money and all the purchasesówho am I kidding?óthe ONE purchase it represents; I just want it to be done.

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The phone just rang and I jumped up to answer it, and banged my head on the corner of one of the windows. I now holding an ice pack on the new knot.

6:16 p.m. - 2001-08-28

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