Monday afternoon I woke up next to a glass of water and two tablets of Alka-Seltzer, which must’ve been my boyfriend’s doing, and a note I didn’t remember writing. “I’m really sorry I got so fucked up,” it read. “It wasn’t the plan. Please make sure I’m still alive.”
Wright, who used to teach personal finance and investment at Roosevelt University, got her first Spiritual Response reading in February 2001. The next day, she said, she could communicate telepathically with animals. She told me that I’m an old spirit, like 100,000 years old, and that I’ve been everything from a plant to a high priestess. I’ve had a “hate of life” and a chip on my shoulder, she said, ever since I healed some people in a past life and was killed for my trouble. Also, my pelvic energy is out of alignment.
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Six hours later I still couldn’t sleep or work or talk or think about anything else. So I went out and got so slammered I apparently thought I might wake up dead.
Contributors to Pitchfork, XLR8R, and The Fader and stylists from W, Vogue, and Esquire are responsible for finding a “couple hundred really cool items–from mainstream to underground indie shit” and uploading them onto the site. If you click on an item–voila!–suddenly Buzznex turns into an e-commerce gateway. Actually this may be the best thing about it: I never knew you could buy Balenciaga shoes online.
He said some other stuff, and seemed like a nice guy, but I couldn’t focus–my brain just kept repeating one word over and over: baby, baby, baby, baby. The only way to shut it up was to get soused. Soon I’d forgotten about the Chosen One and pretty much everything else, and at 4 AM, closing time, I realized I was in no shape to drive home. So I went to the Hotel Allegro for the after-afterparty, where I watched the Buzznex crew and a couple of the party’s DJs take a bubble bath. I knew when I didn’t care about peeing in front of them that I had crossed a line.
