I feel so loved. I've received quite a few emails from people asking where I am - Am I okay? You are too kind!
I'm great. In DC for work right now and I've had no access to computers (well, at least ones on which to do what I consider "real work," where "real work" is defined as writing my blog and checking Gawker to the point of insanity). There's one computer in the hotel lobby and 10 seconds - really - after I sat down to write and order a new bikini, some long-haired blonde guy came in and queried, "Do you know how long you're going to be?"
I barked at him, not only because I was pissed, but because he was clearly a doormat who wanted to be walked upon. I mean, couldn't he see that I was picking out which Brazilian bikini I wanted to flaunt around in like a whale next weekend when I go to Miami??
"No, I don't know. I just sat down."
"Well, I just, umm, just need to check the movie schedule."
"Come back in 10 then."
I think I scared him off, because he didn't come back. Unfortunately, I was so disturbed by his neediness and doormatness that I couldn't sit and think properly. Really though - producing these profound thoughts necessitates an untainted think tank of sorts. My experience was ruined.
Anyhow, I'll be back to NYC this afternoon and I plan to have something up by 4 or 5 p.m. I'll tell you about DC and how the restaurants suck and Maryland Crab soup is not good and how I despise people smoking while I eat and about the retro Ethiopian Whorehouse decor in my hotel room and, and, and...
Oh yeah, I won't be describing my day at the Immigration Protest because, quite frankly, I'm way too lazy to get up and witness history in the making.