Cut to me waking up to the social media coverage of #abfabmovie and it turns out the girls were in NYC last night for the U. S. premier. I was running MORE errands in the East Village and dodging rain bullets outside the cavernous Chelsea Market, no clue as to what was transpiring in my city. Yes I dropped the mirrorball on this one. Boo-Hoo. But it hurts my sense of investigative prowess more than anything. I actually passed through St Marks Place where Edina got her naval pierced in 1995 and briefly considered stealing an ugly door handle but was too irritated by the heat to think about anything other than my tasks at hand. This is borderline obsessive but I don’t care. There are very few objects of admiration I have left as my life becomes a zero-fucks ride in the slow lane of mid-age oblivion. Just kidding… death is welcome any time after July 29th. If something is meant to be it’ll make its presence known. So I’m off to deliberately run haphazardly into the girls at the SoHo Grande. Fingers crossed.
