red in the face....

brothers and sisters,
since friday, i've had a growing bruise-like red mark on my cheek. it's irritated. over the phone, my dad says it sounds like a bug bite. in any case, it hurts, and i totally hope it's not baby spiders growing in my face. 'cause that'd be gross. and mostly devoid of humor.

so the quick recap of jorge's bachelor party:
saturday morning, 5am EST, I land in Ft. Lauderdale. I jump into a cab, not knowing it's going to cost me 80 DOLLARS.

6am - I wake up P-Getz, J-Blue, and Adrien at their Miami Beach Hotel. We joke around. P-Getz and Adrien can't fall back asleep, so we jump in the rental car and head to Little Havana / Calle Ocho for some cuban sandwiches at Versailles. They were excellent a year ago. But this Saturday, completely blah. Totally bland and boring and forgettable. I felt like a jerk for encouraging the drive to eat something mediocre and flavorless. the coffee is excellent, by the way.

11am - I've missed Friday night's debauchery. It sounds gross (lots of making out with sleazy girls at The Shore Club). We head over to a marina and get on a pontoon boat (described to me earlier as a catamaran; this is no catamaran). 26 guys and 2 loser girls from the night before come on the boat. 55 bucks per person for a 3 hour tour with Captain Andy. Lots of beer and crappy mixed drinks. I actually enjoy the boat-ride. I get some sun. Great chatting with Jorge and Javier. Trying to play poker on a shaky boat doesn't go so well. The bachelor party as a collective unit is really rowdy.

2pm - Back to the dock.

You know what? I don't need to give you a play by play of the bachelor party. Lemme just say, I think Jorge is great and it was fantastic to celebrate him, but the huge number of people (like 26 guys) made for sort of a crazy binge-drinking mob. it was good hanging with columbia folks and jorge's got nice texas friends, but for some reason, the weekend was a little too hyperactive for me. Sunday was nice, just walking around miami with paul, jake and akhil (and even breakfast with bill (from the Carman 12 days)) but overall, i just didn't have the energy to party like the majority of the dudes there, i guess.

On Sunday night, I had Nobu with Paul at the Shore Club. Not as good as Nobu New York or even Nobu Las Vegas. But it was just nice to sit with a bowl of rice, creamy spicy crab, and some beer, and shoot the breeze. Went to sleep at 1:30am, woke up at 3:30am for my 6am flight back to Los Angeles. I looked like shit yesterday. Am I sick? What's the red mark on my face? Why have I been sad for the past few weeks?

What a lousy post this has been. Life is good, despite feeling exhausted and drained. Paul's moved to L.A., which I can't be more excited about. Meeting with Soundguy Barry tomorrow night to discuss the sound-mix of "Paralegal". And uh, I've actually been writing a lot lately. These are all good things. And Mom & Dad are finally visiting me in L.A. After nearly two years, excited about showing them the smoggy yet wondrous corner of the world I've been living in.

- Eric

P.S. Oh, one funny thing I forgot. Adrien was nice enough to host me and Paul and Jake in his family's South Beach high-rise fancypants condo. On Saturday night, everyone came over for a typical bachelor-party blowout boozefest. Cut to Sunday Afternoon: Paul and I are watching tv at Adrien's, and even 'though we've cleaned up, the place is somewhat destroyed (furniture on its side, full ashtrays, giant bottles of liquor, a kitchen sink full of beer bottles, etc.). There's a knock on the door. Paul answers it. "I didn't know anyone was here", the woman tells Paul. "I'm hoping to show the apartment", she explains. Paul says, "I don't think that's a good idea. We sort of had a party here last night." "Oh, that's fine," she answers.

She walks in with a married couple (who are obviously expecting to see the awesome mega-bucks condo in primo condition, not trashed by partyers). "How's it going?" the middle-aged guy asks me. "Fine," I tell him. "You guys should probably come and see this place when it's clean. It's really nice." "Looks like you guys had a big party," he opines. "You don't even wanna know," is my answer. He laughs and pats me on the shoulder. I open the sliding door so they can see the view. The real estate agent and the middle-aged couple speak in the kitchen for a few minutes, thank us for our time, and then leave. Paul and I laugh pretty hard.