Boogie avec le Marquis le Marquis’ Intimate Diary

FRIDAY, 1 DECEMBER, 2000, NEW ORLEANS
Yikes. Almost 11 in the morning and I’m just rubbing my eyes open and shaving my tongue. I have a loosely-based 11am meeting with a recruiter downtown, but I couldn’t possibly leave the house for another 15 minutes because my face is puffy from sleep and my mind is drowsy like a honeybee stumbling through smoke.

Not so very many drinks last night, but it was a late, late night au Club Shim Sham for 80’s dance night whereat I met this fellow online diary writer who not only writes the most beautiful and tender and well formed accounts of his life and thoughts, but comes across even better in real time. Sigh. My dear Paul, I’m so glad you decided to go out last night. I just want to stroke your beautiful face as I listen to your refreshing views on life, people, things and what-nots. Help me save my bitter, jaded soul, would you darlin’? Cheers, thanks a lot.

In another lobe, I’m starting to feel artsy-fartsy again. I’ve submitted new(ish) works to the gallery that represents me online, and I finally have ideas for new pieces rattling around in this ole’ claptrap head of mine, and the beginning of an inclination to paint again.

I’m also feeling confidant enough to start trolling around Real-Time galleries in New Orleans with my little portfolio in an attempt to secure a show, which I haven’t had since almost a year ago.

So in general I feel like I’m teetering on the edge of a new chapter of my raucous little life, and for once, it doesn’t completely fill me with dread.

Life is scary, but there are drugs for that.

Check out the Marquis’ Crush o’ the week!

Dumb joke for today:
FLORIDA: If you don’t like the way we count then take I-95 and visit one of the other 56 states.
Palm Beach County: We put the “duh” in Florida.
Sign on I-95: Florida this way, no that way, 5 miles, wait 10 miles.