And we have a boy. Artist? Architecture? He's got design tubes. Daddy is moving his bedding into the upstairs as I write. Stern father, seems worried or concerned about this living arrangement, putting Jacques through the paces in the drive. The boy tries to make light, tries to shush even. Methinks he wants Daddy to go home, embarrassed, being treated like a kid. Kinda cute in that clean-cut kinda way . . . wonder if he wants to go to the Rolling Stones . . .
No sign of the others yet. Two more boys I think and a girl. And so it begins for real.
Mood: space cadet-like
Drinking: coffee
Listening To: Bon Jovi, Someday I'll be Saturday Night (demo)
Hair: slicked
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