bootleg luxury

After finishing my last day of regular work last week and entering the freelance/unemployment world for the rest of the summer, I decided to spend my paycheck on Life Improvement. I have been in a constant battle against clutter since birth, one that usually involves me succumbing to my lack of storage options and suffocating under a dusty pile of magazines only to be found weeks later pale and lifeless with a ball of cat hair in my throat.
“Such a pity. If only she’d cleaned up her shit once in a while.”
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This time I decided to face it head-on by forcing myself to go discount shopping for cleaning products. I was specifically dealing with the beginnings of a bug infestation, 3 trash bags of laundry, and a lack of storage space that filled my walk-in closet with piles of shoes and folded jeans and comforters to the brim. After 48 hours of spraying, sucking, swiffering, and hammering away I managed to reorganize everything. I even dusted. It was a great success, but I also had to dispose of the corpses of 30 dead flies a pile of cat poop I found in the back of my closet, so now I have PTSD.
My next reinvention would be my body, or at least my physical work ethic. I started doing three of those 30 DAY CHALLENGE calisthenics exercises where I basically murder myself slightly more effectively each day until, by the last, I am somehow able to do 250 squats and 200 crunches and 100 push ups or something INSANE. I have just completed the 8th day of this challenge and I am already feeling tighter, sore and generally less fun to be around. But soon I will be able to crush a man’s head with my thighs.
Friday night was the Steel Drums party with Teengirl Fantasy et al so I drank a bottle of creamsicle vodka with Reid and got waaasted in a sports bra, cut up bike shorts and platforms. The night culminated with me eating multiple very large pieces of Popeye’s chicken on the floor of my man’s apartment at 4 in the morning. This is the least flattering picture of me ever taken and I am delighted to share it with you.
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Saturday morning I awoke with a splitting headache at 9 am and despite my early rise still mobilized at a glacial rate. Patrick and I had guest spots for Warm Up at PS1 (as you know I am not one for paying entry…unless it’s for a good cause and I don’t have to rob anyone to do it). I was supposed to meet him at 2:30, which in Kat Speak means 4. Failing to find a cab heading to Brooklyn from the LES in 90 degree weather on a Saturday, I took the M to my apartment to change, stomping home from Myrtle-Broadway (where they expected me to take a BUS after re-routing my train) dressed like a very sweaty sex worker.

When I finally made it to my apartment, I stuffed tons of clothes and make up into my purse for later that day. Sarah aka @alienbrigade had invited us to appear in the new music video for @pendunyc along with our other crazy hot friends at 6:45. I didn’t even have time to shower.
In a unlucky turn of events, a mix up with our VIP bracelets at Warm Up (namely that we didn’t get any) put such a damper on our day that we left PS1 early. I did however have time to go home and scrub my ass before the shoot.
The concept of the video was that we were to look as Bushwick as possible and party really hard in this space while the band played their new song:
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So we did.
We wore @whateverr21 apparel and @h0les glasses, styled with @alienbrigade’s accessories including many of her own designs. Patrick took these photos through the lenses of the h0les glasses and they reeeally made us want to do acid.
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About 4.5 hours later I had made out with a palm tree, covered myself in potting soil, been tied to a bouquet of black balloons, and ingested as well as sprayed my surroundings with at least four types of alcohol. I had plans to go out later, so on my way home to change I grabbed a red bull and a sleeve of ranch flavored Pringles, realizing I hadn’t eaten at all that day. Of course by the time I reached my bed at about midnight, there was no chance of me leaving again until Monday afternoon.
ADDITIONAL AWESOMENESS:
A write-up in the Bushwick Daily about the last Dizzyland included much better photos than what I presented last week (I set the bar really high, I know)
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AND LASTLY, my friends Billy and Brian were featured in the most recent issue of BULLETT and they look fucking perfect.
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Funemployment is officially the look for summer.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go to Strawberry and buy an American Flag bikini.
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