empty space

shit happens. or it doesn't happen. welcome to my life. it seems as though this blog will have to take a turn for the worse. seeing as i'm not in nyc, i will not have celebrities to sight. that would leave me and/or lead me to talk about my own life. boooooty. nobody reads this darn thing anyway, but me. so if i talk about me then i would just be notating the inner ticker tape that is my brain. or what's left of it. the functioning part that is. see already the inner workings are dull and unpolished. moving on. i saw julia stiles and aaron eckhart in london. in a play. oleanna by d. mamet. theater is fun. then i saw eckhart outside the theatre. thought i would talk to him about the play and his work, but then he was taking pictures with some boppers and i would've wanted to engage in a deep convo about acting and ny and the H wood, but alas. no julia either. phooooey. i'm not one to mob celebs as you know already from past entries. i only stalk one. and he is my LEO. renee saw jon favreau at buca di beppo in santa monica. that's right. Santa. Monica. rather than report on well-known folks, i'll be reporting on my high school friends, my cousins, my cats, my nuclear family, as well as other random folks that may come in my way. most likely, they will be pals from the television. or possibly mooovies. and as the dust settles here in my childhood home and in the attic of my body, according to the alexander technique, i shall let my mind rest. and that, paco, will be the most difficult task of them all.