Good is Dead

Trying to save money for my friend Eric's wedding in Santa Barbara next month, I dropped $70 on Chip Kidd's Book One:Work 1986-2006, one of the most beautiful books I've ever seen. For the past week I've lugged it back and forth each day from work, justifying the expense by using it as a resource for my own print projects, but really, deep down, I just had to own it, regardless of cost.

Then Friday night I spent another $130 on dinner and drinks with my high school buddies Matt and Joaquin in town, and when I woke up Saturday I was like, dear lord, where'd all the money go? Then I remembered how epic the Filet was at Joe D's Chophouse (the manager coming over to chastise us for Matt being face down on the table during the whole meal), and there were a ridiculous amount of Asian nectars at the dive bar on Bush Street (an appropriately named street if there ever was one), and we did get Folson to come back from retirement to sing a brilliant rendition of "Ebony and Ivory" on the way to the restaurant, and the 2:00 am heart-to-heart in front of the Radisson was hilarious, but still, it worries me how I was able to go through so much and not consider the consequences.

You'd think by the time a person reached 33 they'd have learned a little fiscal responsibility. You'd think.