Sorry for the light posting of late. It’s been a busy week, compounded by the fact my afternoon downtime (yes, a nap — sue me) has been impossible, due to Project Floor. Do you have any idea how the sound of a nail gun travels? Today is Sanding Day, although there may be some staining, as well. Just had a stain-approval meeting. Alan attended, along with his Super Stain Vision. There were two to choose from, and I couldn’t see a dime’s worth of difference between them, but Alan could. He always can. I delegate all paint colors and now, stain shading, to his superior eye.
At this point, my eyes burning like Drano-scrubbed orbs, they could paint the thing green and I wouldn’t care. (Too much.) I stay up until after 1 a.m. and rise before 7. I need my damn nap back.
What do I do until 1 a.m.? I read the world’s English-speaking press for a corporate client, and let’s leave it at that. However, in the months I’ve been doing this job, I’ve fallen hard for the British press. I wonder if they’re having the same problems with declining readership that we are. Hard to imagine — they’re as lively a read as I’ve ever seen stateside, and they’re like that pretty much every day.
At least they know the proper attitude to take toward Madonna: She insulted George Bush, simulated sex and suspended herself from a giant mirrored crucifix, head adorned with a designer crown of thorns (provided by Cotter Church Supplies, LA) in an all-out attempt to get someone, anyone out there, riled.
Before one can go further, mention must be made of her body – the most amazing feat of engineering since the Golden Gate Bridge.
When she unveiled it, you couldn’t take your eyes off it – not as a thing of beauty but as an object of sheer, sinewy significance. Even the bouncers looked scared.
Apparently, in this show, Madonna puts her leg behind her head. Shocking!
Sweet jayzus, the sanders just started up. (Whimper.)