The weather is awesome, John Fleming (my manager and all round helper) is with me and I am doing my one woman play ‘The Point of Yes’ tonight at a theatre off Broadway.
I have been in New York before, but fuck how I forgot about the sheer noise level of traffic and every time I go to call my father in Glasgow a big police car goes screeching past with its siren on, so I cant actually call my dad till this stops as it would worry him. So I don’t think I will be chatting to daddy for a while.
The apartment I am in is quite small but great location, there is no kettle to make a pot of tea, and so I trotted off and bought one of those small tin tea pots that you fill with water and boil. It leaked and flooded water everywhere, so I am taking that right back to the shops.
I love New York and the images of me the columnist sitting in the apartment looking like Carrie Bradshaw from Sex and the City couldn’t be further from the truth. I am tired, none of my clothes seem to fit and I cannot wear kitten heels for the life of me.
I went out last night with a gay mate of mine to a bar, for some unknown reason I drank beer…I DON’T drink…I am not an alcoholic or someone who has drink problems; I just don’t take booze very much. Anyway after two drinks I was hammered. I have been in New York one night and I have a smelly hangover.
My comedy show Good Godley! Is being performed tomorrow night so I need to get organised and stop staring out the fire escape at the ‘squirrels versus cats’ war that goes on daily at the Chinese woman’s balcony across on 35th street, opposite my back window.
It truly is the best show in New York…the cats are trying to catch the squirrels and the squirrels are trying to get into the Chinese woman’s opened patio door…maybe I should stop staring and go rehearse my play?
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