Penthouse Time or Not?

”Come On babe! We have a penthouse suite to ourselves at The W Hotel. We can watch True Blood tonight and Denmark kick The Netherlands’ ass in the morning here on the flat screen…”

Tempting…. You think? Hell yeah!

It’s my girl T who is texting me. She’s been out and about since noon making personal appearances at the pool parties in The Hills and now she’s got a penthouse at The W. Of course. I, on the other hand, have not left home since Thursday since I got hit by a gruesome cold that has kept me a boring, pathetic mess for days. My bff has been 3 boxes of kleenex and my labtop. At one point I got so bored that I went berserk in Photo Shop so from now on you will be spammed with my infantile collages… ha ha sorry guys, but just you wait!

Back to reality. No, I will not make it to the penthouse tonight. I will stay here in my own ‘penthouse-ish’ crip in West Hollywood and finish reading my script. I might indulge in a bucket of Black Licorice Scottie Dogs from Trader Joe’s and a glass of Savignon Blanc on ice lying on my belly in the living room trying not to hate on the stiletto clad chicks working it at The W tonight.

Bitter? Who? Moi? Noooo no! I’ll just be a good girl in comfy socks, no makeup and a pony tail tonight getting her beauty rest (’cause she needs it). Ok, time to shut up.

Goodnight beautiful people

xxx K