Saturday, July 19, 2003

Not much to report. It was a laid back day. I felt a little bad that I didn't ride my bike to the post office today because it was nice and cool. But I got up too late because I stayed out too late. If I'd gone any later, I'd have had to wait in line with the people of Orange County. All of them.
Anyway, I wrote another poem tonight. It's another one I need to sleep on before I post. So, if it shows up tomorrow, that means I think it has something to it.
Good Sabbath.

Friday, July 18, 2003

Last night I saw The Dadaists again with Chas & Phish, Nissa, and Yod. Check out the website at and then go see it. It closes this weekend. Afterwards, there was a Cabaret Voltaire. It was a dadaist performance that we all got involved in.
I didn't get in until very late and therefore slept in today. Had five packages ship today. More later.

Wednesday, July 16, 2003

One of the great realizations of the day, after seeing Dr. Shrinker, was that I think I might be over this particular part of my life where I need counseling. It came today because Dr. Shrinker was slammed from a late night of work and really didn't have her heart in our session if I do say so myself. I talked about the potential of a Chico move, the recent disagreements with Nissa, having no money to speak of, mourning the loss of my car, and I realized that I've been dealing with all of it pretty darn well. I haven't let it get me down. In fact, I'm getting much better at identifying and avoiding those downward spirals into madness, depression, and self doubt. So much so that I think I have my utility belt. I don't think Dr. Shrinker has much more to offer me at this point. Things might change between now and the next session, but I was feeling pretty groovy afterward.
Niss drove me because I fear driving my car on the 22. I know how lucky I was to happen to break down at the one spot on the 22 that actually has a shoulder. So, she came back to my place and I made her lunch. We took a nap. She worked on her speech for her class tonight and I read. And I made her a peanut butter and honey sandwich to take with her.
My parents took me to dinner at the thai place. My father made some disparaging remarks towards what I'm doing for a living that almost made me too mad to enjoy my garlic shrimp. Almost. He said that if I had a job I would have money. I told him that I had a job and in my mind I added a colorful adjective for how I was thinking of him at the moment. That's something I've learned about my father over the years. Anything that he doesn't understand he also cannot deign to respect. But the anger didn't last because seeking my father's approval is far from my list of prioities.
Afterwards I hung out with Sean for a while.
Tomorrow I'm going back to the Dadaists show. I'm excited about it. The last of my money is going into it. I'm pumped for another awesome night of enlivening art.

Tuesday, July 15, 2003

Nothing interesting to report except for a new poem. It's called "Elegy for the Day." It goes like this:

The natural light has left the sky again.
Orange human lamps push back the night.
One allows me to write this.

On the porch swing after dinner tea,
watching the cats sniff the jalapeno garden suspicious,
my legs ache dully.

I might go with you to the beach later
and watch grunions flop in little death/big death
before the plane of black infinite beyond.

Or maybe I'll stare at a lighted screen
some old film with long dead actors
before I snore in the chair.

Maybe I'll stare at the dark ceiling
and think about other pretty girls I've seen
to ignore how I'll never kiss your neck again.

The sound of the traffic from the freeway is constant.
White noise that I've never been away from long.
It'll probably never go silent while I live.

My brother wants me to move into his garage.
He said today that he wouldn't charge rent
but that I'd have to find a church to attend.

There's nothing important left for me to do.
So I think of things I can't solve right now
and look for ways to stop thinking about them.

Tomorrow will bring heat to bear worse than today.
We'll all sweat, drink water, some will up and die from it.
Tonight is cool and empty.

Monday, July 14, 2003

There's a lot to be said for eating well. I mean really enjoying a meal. Being a gustatory afficianado. I really like a good, hearty meal. Don't be fooled though. My gut is left over from when I drank a lot and has nothing to do with this.
Rutabagorz in Orange has a nice atmosphere (especially if you dine around four-thirty, right before the dinner rush.) I like to go when I'm over there on Mondays and read while my order is being prepared. I get the garlic chicken sandwich. If you ask for no pasta salad (it's got tomatoes in it) they give you extra fresh fruit. I mean, you'd get the fruit anyway, but you get more if you order that way, not that it's extra fresh. Well, it might be. Then, after I eat, I get a heated brownie and some peppermint tea and just kick back and read for about twenty minutes. One of the treats of civilization.
Needless to say, my car made a less than triumphant return today. The way it runs now indicates that it's not long for this world. Yea, the mechanic told me that there was some silly putty holding the radiator together and that I must check the fluids every morn lest my engine boil over. I give it two months. Which means I'll probably try and sell it to some schmoe, but take much less than I could because I'll be honest.
This also means it might be mo-ped time for the Rev.
Rick Lupert's reading at the Liquid Den was hilarious. His words are such a delight. His humor falls so easily from his tongue. Even though the mechanic left me busted, I bought Lupert's book of poems, which came with a cd, which sold me on it. I mean, it might be years before I see him again.
Also, Yod gave me a recording of the last time the Ahmish jammed together. I play percussion, you know. It's hands down the best recording we've ever made together.
Yesterday was relaxing. I read a lot. I also went to the Book Baron and Music Baron.
The most interesting thing during the day yesterday was after I'd accompanied my mom to the grocery store. On our way back, the railroad crossing guard rails came down and we stopped. No train came. Then, a guy came around the corner in the other direction and plowed right through the guard rail at full speed. It make a loud cracking sound, but the rail stayed intact. From the look on the guy's face when he came out the other side, he hadn't meant to do that. He hadn't been paying attention and in retrospect I'm very glad there wasn't any train. But the bummer for that dude was that, as he drove away, I noticed his windshield had shattered. The good thing was that after he ran into the rails, they went back up and we all could drive. So he was like Jesus.

I just got back from the post office. I met a guy there who saw that I was wearing a Vincent Price t-shirt and told me that there's a museum in Los Angeles, at a college, with all the art donated by Vinnie the P. It's the Vincent Price Museum. So, there's another thing that will get me in LA in the near future.
It was a hot ride to the post office. So hot that were my car here and in any working order I probably would have taken that instead. But I had to go to the post office because I sold the most expensive book I've sold yet. It was the book about all of the Beatles recording sessions. It sold for a hundred.