party

[written six hours ago. underground.]

at work, we hosted an after-party for Saturday Nite Live. You know…the late night sketch comedy show that now lacks most of the actors who are actually funny. After working my normal closing shift, we set up for the private affair.

Aside from the cast members, notable guests included Kirsten Dunst, Helen Paige (the star of Juno. Super short and cute in person), Kieren Culkin (younger brother of McCauly Culkin), Rumer Willis (she really does look like Jay Leno), Evan Ross (Diana’s offspring), Drew Barrymore (not too hot in the face), Chace Crawford and Blake Lively from Gossip GIrl, and the red-headed broad from Superbad.

Guest began trickling in after the show ended. Four hours of chaos. Busy as fuck, but nothing too dramatic happened. Thankfully. It stopped being fun at about 4am. I left at about 5:15am. Absolutely sinful.

Beyond tired right now, mmkay?

Surely not in the mood to deal with the MTA’s dumb ass service changes. Here I am waiting for the motherfucking J train as the sun is probably rising above ground. Note: in two years here, this makes my third time boarding this random ass train. Ugh.

Anywho, when I finally get home, mission one is to hibernate for a good portion of this day.

Please do not disturb.

good morning.

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