March 25, 2012 Sunday

 1AM - I'm at Gio and Claudia's now in Oakland. I am alone now. There is ample couch space. But now I am alone and my deeds ring true. I don't know where they are. They wouldn't tell me. Only that they "found a place to stay". And I did cry on the car-ride over. It is so, I kicked them out of the car, but if you will, I'd say in somewhat of a "nice" way simply because I could have been a bigger douche about it. I did stick around. I did care. But it barely makes a difference. The way Maddy sobbed. It was as if she was admitting everything. Letting it all go. The kind of sob one thinks of in "I told you so"This was coming at some point as long as she continued in such a way. It was only a matter of time. 3 years in the making. But still I am alone, left to wonder what conditions they're in. And though they are counting on that fact I'm sure, spite alone cannot keep you warm and dry. I do not want them to end up hurt. And tht thought of them cold and wet in the night makes me sad. I can't say I didn't offer to "retake them in" but pride wouldn't let them. Pride at being bullheaded and rude I guess. It's so cold and wet out. I worry.

11AM - Breakfast. Oatmeal full of guilt with Claudia, Gio, Minnie, and other friend. Minnie has the same Joy Division T shirt I do. I share bottle of "Chameleon Cold Brew" Claudia has this voice. A real interesting character. Really smooth sounding and structured. Like an old church in a western world. Like a Celtic Knot.

12 Noon post - Gio works on some web design stuff for a few hours. We're trying to go on a bike ride in a little bit. The rain is clearing up finally. The sun's coming out. Shoes tied on a phone line. Gio's place is neat. It has a garage door that is open right now obscured by a red curtain blowing around. Lots of light in here. Another somewhat industrial space done up cool. I am jealous.

Daytime after. I awake to rotten 2am texts from Leo calling me a cunt and "Fuck you so much" that I left them in the middle of nowhere in the rain. That Maddy had been crying for an hour. I was shaking for while reading it honestly. What more could I have done? They didn't call, I would have got them. They didn't take my final offer. They lied to me about finding a place. It was hard enough leaving them in a coffee shop with wifi. A bunch of shits. What can you do for people so stubborn? They'd rather stew in their own piss. Or cold rain. If it was so bad they would have called. They had enough nerve to message me guilt tripping me about Maddy crying. After all of the times she's put me to tears that really doesn't phase me. She's smarter than that and not helpless. I'm convinced she knew exactly what she was doing the whole trip. She's all too well rehearsed. The nicest and most genuine she was the whole time was when she was drunk in the passenger seat on gin cocktails in Wyoming. Legal or not legal I was mad. But I gave them more rope. I'm going to try and put this away. Maybe a little elemental exposure was what they needed. Nothing I can do now.

San Fran is chilly. Colder than Cleveland! Crazy. Feels about the same it did before last year when I was here. The street outside on 61st and Lowell reminds me of LA. Tall grass and palms. The green paint chipping off the steps outside that I got lost staring at tearing up on the phone with dad. He's an angry man, but he is "within-reason-roadtrip-cheerleader". I made sure Iw as at my worst. This is the beginning of my April adventure. Gio and Claudia are going to take me to some kind of poetry reading tonight at a house with "snacks". Gio likes snacks. Claudia, whada girl. Head half pixie cut, tea drinker, gardener. She takes parts of peoples plants and sprouts them in her own pots. She has wooden boxes outside on the sidewalk. Her lettuce started sprouting today. Then she has some roses she stole from H ome Depot. Just picked them up walking to her car. I'd still like to get in touch with Annetta and Aaron & Veronique, maybe Alberto too! It's so exciting that I'll be seeing Ken & Angie Howard on Friday! This is my first time in Oakland/ It's disappointing to learn that there is really no way to ride a bike from here to San Fran. I guess I assumed it might be like Brooklyn to Manhattan with a pedestrian accessible bridge. You take the BART. Who knows how pricey that is though. Market to Daly City is pricey enough, I'd like to make it back to Haight St. and find the shop where I found those good Stabilo pens.

The New Kids on The Block sleeping bag is a chilly thing turns out. I had awful dreams. Not much worse than the reality of the night. The only feeling I can imagine was worse is the feeling of killing another person. Sickening. The cat Shelly slept at my feet on the bag. I woke to find him there. I crave fish tacos. I've been eating them for the past few days. I could put one away every day for the rest of my life and be into it. On the west coast, a staple!

Reno, Nevada was good for walking around by myself. Abandoning Leo and Carl to make their boxed macaroni and cheese with a microwave at a gas station. San Rafael Park. I climbed trees alone, the temperature was nice and it was sunny. There was a labyrinth garden that wasn't much of a labyrinth at all. I dried my shorts off in the sunlight and breeze draping them over my bike seat. Pretty effective. Popped a can of Red Bull Cola open. I found some at a gas station in Iowa or Nebraska and bought 5 of them. Best cola on earth. I had washed my shorts in the Saratoga hot springs in Wyoming the night before. They return as I'm trying to straighten things up around the car and start setting off firecrackers in Mandarin Oranges.

March 23, 2012 Friday

Salt Lake City, Utah. "Jack Mormon Coffee Company" and the worst iced coffee I've ever had. Ever the ass, me. Leo calls Claire every time we stop. They just borrowed a can opener to open cans of beans. Beans they did not cook in the hot springs of the Saratoga yesterday. Nope not even soy milk could save this coffee. We visited the temple of Mormon, although not the inside. Not unless you're mormon. Not any Space Jesus, we couldn't find him. Maddy and Carl stole little kids Mexican vests from the dance area in the Mormon church museum. 2 large screens with smiling people dancing.

We fight about every couple hours or so. Most of the time anything I have to add to the conversation gets me accused of arguing. It sucks pretty bad. At a Utah rest stop Maddy tells Leo something like "We'll go on another road trip and take as much time as we want and stop everywhere." I imagine I wouldn't be invited. And you know, it's just what I'm left to think with how they talk. I could never voice these things because of course I'm crazy. But let's see one of them fund a cross country car trip 80% of the way without feeling a little shitty. I don't know what will change. She crashed her car, so who knows when she'll get to know it from my end. I love them, and I hate to say it but it will just feel good to be alone when they leave. I'm constantly feeling left out and crapped on, and when you love somebody enough to invite them, to think of them for going on this adventure and they treat you like you're just a hinderance to their good time, geez, what else are you supposed to feel? It feels wretched. I'm worried about having money to get home, and to get myself to Portland from Los Angeles. I accused her of not having any empathy. She didn't appreciate it of course and reacted with sarcasm. I'll go 160 miles out of the way on a route she wanted to take so bad that she slept for most of it. Sick, or hung over from their Wyoming gin cocktails in the car. Which I suppose is legal in Wyoming, but I did not care for. At least they talked about more rounded things, like shared experiences. I figured they'd just get more obnoxious and disrespectful-spiteful. But no, I guess that's just a sober habit.

We're looking for a ghost town. This time of year I guess it's hard to see the Salt Flats anyway because of snow melt from the mountains. I hate to feel this way. And I feel so very. This coffee shop eats it. Maddy walked to get us samosas. I'm already thinking of Cleveland and regretful it will be so long now until I see Marty again. We're still not quite in the desert. This here mountains and plains. Snow. We slept in Green River in a fast food parking lot. None of them remembered how we got there.

March 22, 2012 Thursday

Pleasure Breakfasts at Sapp. Bros Coffee shop past Kearning not by far in Nebraska. A pioneer monument nearby. For breakfast I'm spending too much money already. Leo and Carl are taking forever in the bathroom, probably doing 3rd time-full-body-tick-checks. Watch yo money. It's an ipad party. They're dipping sesame sticks in their coffee and it smells worse than they do. The car smells rotten. You really have to get in and out of the car a couple times to tell. We stopped to sleep in the Camper lot outside "Motel" by a Pilot truck stop right maybe 30 miles back. It got really cold in the night and we only had 3 thin blankets. Leo and Carl left for an unknown amount of time last night as Maddy slept in the backseat, me in front. They come back with 25 cent hats, b-ball caps, a large bag of Skittles, 2 boxes of powdered detergent, and a change component from the laundromat that looked like a shoe/foot measurerer.. Shook it in our face. "Here's your sign!" Let those two go for a couple hours and they try and break into a Motel room, and vandalize the laundromat in the soggy-middle-of-nowhere-Nebraska-night. We couldn't even get a room, we had wanted to. Before midnight the office was already closed.

The dancing mechanical bears go to Justin Bieber. The Pizza Hut-plastic cups pulsate back and forth in their dispenser on the back counter. They have Spatula & Skillet awards. We're going to Future Mall at the Intergalactic Space Mart on some route in Wyoming. 210 Happy Jack Road. And Laramie 130. 530 McKinnon 414.

March 21, 2012 Wednesday

7:30 PM  - Between Omaha & Lincoln Nebraska, Just left the Holy Family monument. A giant church made of wood and glass. Really beautiful upon a hill. We stomped around. Carl tried to climb the giant crucifix made of metal. I fell in a hole. Driving away, I wondered how it must have looked from the freeway, Carl on that cross "God save me!". Tipping up rainbow lights. I hope I don't get the stigmata from those lambs ear leaves I took after Leo had already picked them.

We also stopped at "Freedom Rock" before we left the state of Iowa. Painted all patriotic with soldiers of different eras by a guy nicknamed "Bubba". It rained.

We stopped at a coffee/soda shop in La Claire on the Mississippi River. The best grape soda I've ever had. The balding eccentric behind the counter likes to decorate with items that would welcome everybody. Asian, Muslim, Whitey, a black angel. "People say I like weird things" He showed us a single bowl. H was amazed I knew what it was. Then a Korean street drum. "It looks like a gong, sounds like a gong, smells like a gong." Then he showed us these "Giant Rings". Back in the day from giants at a traveling circus. These rings are huge. He said you'd shake the hand and just pull them off. The giant would reach behind him and just put on another one. He refilled Carl's coffee and we took pictures of the gum collection under the counter built up over maybe 60 years! I think he liked us. He quoted Whitney Houston when he learned we liked music. An unexpected man.

March 20, 2012 Tuesday

On the road. 80 between Cleveland and Chicago. Maddy is driving looking whispy with her Lennon sun glasses and eating a giant carrot, Between 70 & 80 MPH. Over 200 miles from Chi-town. The boys in the back seat. She's driving namely because as if planned by the fates as I was about to get into the car on our street for us to leave and get Leo, a bug flew in my eye, Of course I panicked and whatever string of events bad luck or because I tried rubbing my eyes to get it out, my eye, right eye is scratched. It's so painful. I'm sitting here, right eye closed under a pair of super dark lenses, knock off Ray-Bans. "Merckins" like the pube toupee. I'm hoping that keeping it closed and relaxed for an hour or more will help the scratch go away. Now and then it breaks out in uncontrollable tears. You know I just can't believe how that would happen literally moments before take off. Sucks. Just my luck that such a debilitating thing would happen to my eyes of all things. But I'm trying my best to overcome it. Man, I'm just not interested in this ruining the drive for me, even though it's damn trying too. Like Mono in 2011, I shall overcome.It's some effort trying to keep it closed. I could be like Nadine on Twin Peaks. Get an eye patch. Duncan from Canada likes the way Maddy looks when she drives. It hurts to even try and turn around and see whatever dumb shit Leo and Carl are up to. The dynamic is funny though, how it switches for whoever is driving. Either way Leo is trying to distract by poking or shoving carrots or grapes in your mouth. Maddy at this time even she yells and gets upset at being distracted. No understanding though. Really no understanding still. But we'll see. God I hope my eye gets better.

Past 10PM - "Coffee Shop" in Chicago. Rodney something. Eating goat cheese sandwiches. I'm on edge. My head hurts pretty bad, my eye looks worse and worse. Although it doesn't feel as bad. The headache is worse than the eye pain. We're ready to get back on the road. With all of the pain I'm in I'm not so sure how much driving I have left in me tonight. The eye does burn and keeps watering. My face is sometimes sopping. The redness is crazy. Leo and Carl are off somewhere drinking in an alley. We had a bit of time at Indiana Dunes National Lakeshore Park. Pretty beautiful place. Lake Michigan. "Dune Man" Races.We even explored this abandoned house. It was on a lean on a little hillside. Lots of beds upturned, mattresses and foam. Huge Hellman's Mayonaise jars I was tempted to take for kombucha purposes. But I didn't want to end up with some kind of Indiana woodsman stigmata or anything. Newspapers lying around were dated for July of 2001. Almost 11 years. Had it really been sitting empty so long? It was hard to believe. The area has to get hit with snow. That it all was in such good shape makes it a mystery to me. Leo started finding ticks on his legs so we got the hell outta there. Maddy got a nasty splinter in her hand from this weird wheeled carriage that Carl pulled her down a dune on. Found it underneath the house. In such an odd state that place was. Chicago has been awkward walking side walks far behind everybody after we met up with Chance Walker. Could barely find a grocery that was open. and now we're separated. I'm not looking forward to the challenge of finding a place to sleep tonight. Maddy wants to camp out somewhere near the Mississippi River. Ah boy. Saying goodbye to Marty was rough. What a sweet guy.

I think Jackie got his package yesterday. I got a message saying "Phillipa, thanks for the stuffs! Lots of love!" It was nice to wake up to in the middle of the night. One night ago we were making burritos with Jam and Marty. No going back now. Not for a while now. Off to San Francisco. F-ing eye. The worst. No longer with Dad's nice pen. It kept coming apart. This one smudges pretty awful. Gonna pop another Aleve. The water from the bathroom in here tastes like hose water. Water out of that mason jar has tasted like that all day.

I have to think about making another tape of my stuff. Met a kid the other night at Beau Animale with the others playing from Baltimore. His name was Tadd.

March 18, 2012 Sunday

"I love the look of swept carpet" I say in the noon hour at Carl and Marty's. "I guess I never noticed" says Jake. I figure probably most people never notice. But after 3 + years working in movie theatres, throwing in some usher work it almost becomes a sort of art form. Vacuuming is similar too, seeing the flow of the carpet change direction and the light hit it differently. Dark and sheen like, though not Charley Sheen. Then dull and brighter. Stripes as you pull the thing. That has given me a thrill since I was little. Though I haven't ran a vacuum in years. Carpet doesn't play much of a role in my life anymore, and it's almongst the many things we don't have in our house. A Vacuum. Sweeping the carpet is just more fulfilling. Silly string and "chocolate stains" everywhere after a night of Thin Lizzy St. Patrick's Day celebrations. "Pin The Chocolate Stain On The Pants". Marty's mom comments to Jake "You went to the same grade school as Marty". Marty says "Then he went to Holy Name where he actually got to talk to girls", "No I just looked at them", Jake replies. "Socks everywhere, that's how you know it's been a party" but I'm in tights requiring no socks. Maddy took off yesterday around noon to New York City with that Framework band. Not quite falling in love with any of them of what I'm aware, but yet enough of a spontaneous appeal to have her write or more text her Dear John leter to Jo Jos before her 6:30 AM shift. Then last call Leo calls ablazen with anger at her arrival on his last night with Claire. Poor Leo. Oh Maddy, you missed crayons down Chubby's crack so you could cry in a New York City bar.

3PM - To clean out my car in Shepard's driveway as he attaches my new mismatched colored-passenger mirror. My garbage and junk say these things to me:

The Green Belt - One of many clothing items loaded to Maddy, has retired in the car for months now.

Several Messy Take-Out Containers  - One filled with blue paint water.

Vintage Boy Scouts Handbook - You never can be too prepared.

Golden Corral Thermos - Transfered from Dad's Mazda to the Camry' in Jan. 2012. It is red.

Bag of Acrylic Paint - Been in car since May 2011 working on radio station Hacienda Party.

Wasted Roll of Paper Towels - Vastly saturated with god knows what. Most likely toddy from any number of leaks and spills maybe as far back as summer of 2010  on the 101. Perpetuated by Granger's feet.

Plastic Tupper-Bowl - Left by Tino in October 2011. His Yerba Mate bowl for stop in Mystic, Connecticut. Too strong! On our way back from awkward Barista conference in Providence.

Crumpled Paper Print outs - From American Airlines Flight from Los Angeles to Richmond, VA.

Napkins, Worn & Dried Up Pages of Atlas, Take out Silverware

an MKE 400 "Sennheiser" microphone accessory for a video camera manual left in Camry October 2011 by one of Robin's friends we picked up in Brooklyn on our way from NYC to Jamaica Plain, Mass for that Pink House Family tour. It's mostly in German. The kid was filming the tour. I hope he doesn't miss it too much.

Paper Takeout Menu from Canter's Deli 24 hour on Fairfax in Hollywood, CA found home here in Jan. 2012. Late night meet with Toulouse and Valerie in Mazda. I kept it.

In Cuyahoga Falls with Shepard, we've come to his favorite bar "Johnny Biggs,". He says the Philly Cheese steak is excellent. Stevie Wonder plays on the radio. Everybody knows his name. I'm introduced as "His cousin" funny.

After 9PM - Beau Animale. Probably the last time I'll be in this place before it becomes a taco joint. From a message Stan sent me earlier it sounds like Jackie is supposed to be in town and play. I brought him this Jane Child Record but he ain't here. I wonder where he's coming from. And great news, Maddy's ticket from Pittsburgh to Cleveland is overbooked and she's going to be stuck in Pittsburgh. I guess it looks like she'll have to buy a greyhound ticket and hop on with Leo. Leo gets his out of NYC at midnight. I'm sure it will pass through Pitts. She hasn't gone into detail about it yet.

Just got a call from Toulouse in Los Angeles! Neat. He likes my "Science Will Find A Way" track. He says he thinks it's the best so far. He said him and Valerie broke up a couple of months ago. Too bad, How can you know those things about some people? Valerie didn't say anything when we talked a couple weeks ago. Biff Hanes walks in. Damn I forgot his double mix tape he left at the house. Manny Moore and Granger walk in. Alvin wants to watch Martin Scorceese's "After Hours". Haven't seen a trace of Dante yet. Henry lounges with his locks on the couch. This droney vocals dude named Jerimiah "Scares" from Baltimore with a loop pedal moans away. I like the sounds coming out of his guitar, they're ambient and fuzzy. I hope Jackie will play. There's something like nothing else which takes you over when he's up there head up and down, strawberry blonde halo moving his hand and arm over those strings.

This morning was nice. Slowly waking to birds. We fell asleep to birds in "The Blue Hour". Dammit people are so hot and cold. Marty and I sharing a spot practically, our hands both petting Suzy in the dark. I actually feel a little uncomfortable about it in retrospect. It just seemed a little odd. He lay on the floor by the couch I was on. I had my head and hand on Suzy. Our feets were all on the automan. He had his hand I'm sure uncomfortably so on Suzy too outstretched above. And I just well ... I like Marty so I thought it was cute, but now I feel a bit awkward like maybe I did something wrong. But we did, him, Jake and I make it to St. Sebastian's on 65th for post-service donut and coffee. Hafta do it more often.

Jackie never comes.

March 15, 2012 Thursday

Afternoon with Dad and John before they head off back to Richmond. They're in the "Louisville" bat store on 25th. Passing it walking inside, I should have predicted what would happen. The owner comes back inside and the 2 of them get off to talking about sports, Babe Ruth. Reproducing bats. I can hear the owner raising his voice inside passionately about his craft. He makes baseball bats, stains, or paints them personalized engraving or one of the many liquor logo or bad dad music engraved bats to choose from. Not to completely discount dad music of course. I like The Beatles, The Who, Van Morrison, I just think that for now, for me, they're a little boring in comparison to my latest discoveries. In fact, I love The Beatles. So I sit outside on drizzled sidewalk wondering if he'll ever come out. I need to get to painting. Maddy, Granger and I might go see an Eric Rohmer film at the Cinemateque later.

--So Dad's gone. I probably won't see John Q again for another 5 years. All is okay. John is a sweet guy I think, even if we are drastically different culturally. We can both laugh at 30 Rock. Even if he chooses to wide-eye to Benny about how guys were rubbing each other's shoulders last night at Richard's apartment down the street from mom on 44th. Pierre in fact getting a back massage. "I told your dad, I said you wouldn't be seeing any of that down in Georgia!" Hah, North Georgia, Calhoun and Ringold, no, I imagine probably not. But what about Atlanta, Savannah? Elton John even owns property there, or at least he did in the 90s. He ditched an old complicated female friend he might have met up with on W.6th street. The answers in the question! And he hung out with Marty, Maddy, Carl, Pierre, and I at Richard Abelman's very cool post-bachelor degree-just-moved-back-from-Chicago apartment. Nice appliances, framed posters and art, and complete with Ikea furniture and a suede feeling sofa. Yup, that was Luke Reynolds alright, straight out of Oberlin, but he was moving TO Chicago instead. Last I heard one of his last roommates boyfriends threatened to kill him, and he was hiding out. But Richard's... A different scene to John I'm sure. Kids sitting around massaging each other with cheap beer watching youtube videos of Cleveland's own Herbert Shelty, the hand snapping sensation I learn appearing on Arsenio Hall and German talk shows in the 90s, when he had hair on Marty's cell phone.

Pierre tells me I look elven, Lord Of the Rings style. The dork in me secretly took it as a super-compliment but still weird. A comment straight out of left field, however it brought up up me referencing buying that Arwen "Evenstar" necklace in junior high with money collected at the lunch table in a styrofoam cup. My idea was to scrounge for left over lunch money quarters, but Lizzie Chambers, the bi-curious of this bunch of friends enjoyed going about and selling a sob story about my mom having some illness or something. It's really more horrible to hear about than it sounds in my head. So sorry mom. John Q of course repeated this to dad apparently, who then brings it up today in the car. Man shame on me. He violently speaks in terms of what he would have done if kids said things about his Japanese mother. I do not take responsibility entirely for 8th grade doings anymore, not one of my finer moments. So dad goes and leaves me hopeful for "On The Road" movie which has an official trailer now and it's good. I'm psyched for the Thomas Newman sounding soundtrack. And also leaves me sad for the big blow up with mom I had yesterday, which caused her to retreat herself to her room. It was something I said of course, isn't it always? I'm not my mother or my father. I'm something quite different and trying to remain understandable to them, us, to each other can be very tough sometimes. I worry for their efforts of getting back together. It will be disappointing to me if it does not work out for them. Every deserted-feeling-child's fantasy, parents getting back together. I'm prepared, but I can't pretend not to be changed by these ideas. I will see Dad in San Francisco.

I move things around my dresser trying to clean and make sense touching several things that aren't exactly useful or mandatory. Empty lotion bottle, zipper pouch, receipts old, rubber bands, junk, and I restraighten this little area where I keep a few perfumes I have. There's the ever-present "Maybe, Baby" Shelby gave me for my 18th birthday in New Orleans. Not to mention several neat old shades of red lipsticks in vintage/antique 1940s/30s containers mom gave me, one 90s one from Grandma Michiko. Then I focus on these two miniature perfumes. Setting them upright again. "Este Lauder Private Collction" and "Odalisque". Mom bought them because they were two her mother, Grandma Diana wore. Mom even put some of an old bottle of Odalisque on when she was visiting her papa, Grandpa Sal in the nursing home to remind him. I feel a little sad mom gave them to me so as to have something of my grandmother Diana. But I never knew her. Died in the 70s. And that part of mom, their relationship I've heard in stories, but I can never truly know. Mom remains a mystery. But a mystery with a scent. the scent is those 2 little bottles on my dresser. Memories I don't have, but scents of a ghost that I do. Like blindness, it's bittersweet.

Around Midnight - I recorded live drums to "Science Will Find A Way". Cleaning house for show tomorrow, we listened to Life Preserver and as if summoning him, I heard from Jackie. We maybe able to see each other on some of my last few days in Portland. "Clean on.." He says. Maddy and I biked out to the Cinemateque for a 6:45 movie. "The 4 Adventures of Reinette & Mirabelle" So Maddy thinks it's called. Killer soundtracks. Made in '86. Perfect. Rohmer used Elli & Jacno in "Les Nuits De La Pleine Lune" He has taste! His movies all look like music videos by Nigel Dick, of fashionable French moody people doing very normal things. Mirabelle & Reineette are 2 early 20-something/late teens going from meeting in the country in the spirit of mutual mystical minds, the "blue hour" and end up living in a Paris flat together. The whole time I'm going back and forth trying to decide in my typical girl -fashion who of the 2 on screen are most like Maddy and I. Fashion-wise maybe I'm more like Ms. Mirabelle and vice versa. However I would not agree with Maddy that I would be less like her in the beliefs she has stemming from her ethnology side. I would rather as well get a kick out of aiding a petty shop-lifter. At least in a grocery store my morals are not so dictatived. But no use trying to argue a point like that especially with Maddy. How funny, how perfect us on a date like that to see a movie about our French counter-parts. And I get so tied up and hypnotized, hugged by the language that exiting the auditorium anything I want to say I want to be in French, but of course I don't speak it. Only now and then some words seem to become more familiar, So we bike home on Euclid, spouting girly wishes and childlike fantasies of French things. Speaking it, moving there, buying the church for sale on Euclid. I start singing a song to myself to the tune of "Lonely Guys" by Pas De Deux.

                "If I had a lot of money in Cleveland, Ohio
                 I would buy, I would buy
                 I would buy myself a church and a life-time supply of pastel shoes and a ____ guy."

Oh help me. I won the Cinemateque raffle with 7080. A 5 dollar ticket for the University Circle Coffee shop. Formerly Arabica. Lucky day!

March 13, 2012 Tuesday

Something like a year ago happened my great bit Amtrak fiasco with J. Dante at the end. The weather is insanely premature Spring. Just a sweater as I biked to Tap & Brew to paint. I have a lot done. I'm hoping I can finish in maybe just a few short sessions. Dad is in town and I want to spend some time with him. He has ole' Applebee's co-worker John Q with him. Funny how he picks up thest tragglers on trips sometimes. I haven't seen John since 2007. We would chase each other around Applebee's, Calhoun, with cleaner spray bottles. Closing time could be really fun around that place. So he literally quit his job there, not that it isn't about time, and came with dad. Trying to assess his life or soemthing going all of the way back to Richmond. Quit on a moments notice. He claims though, being drunken on Appletinis he was telling everybody he was moving to Virginia. He sits online creating a fantasy baseball league and I sit under a sputnik lamp in mom's dining room. I dubbed "Two For The Road" for my show Thursday. My last show for a while, better enjoy it, me and in the spirit of car travels, I thought, a great film, Stanley Donen. Although it should really be "Four For The Road" because not only Maddy and Carl, but Leo is bussing back from NYC on the 19th to come too! Honest to goodness it's the absolute ultimate! Man the four of us on Highway 80 across the country! Man it's been a fantasy since we were just wee "Lads From Liverpool" and I miss Leo! I'm so happy I'm going to have them all with me! I only with I could ride with them back. That train ride will sure be a hoot for them all! Lots of cardboard black bean burgers. I wonder where Carl is in "selling all of his records"? Mom mailed for me today 2 packages. She still has the white tree lit up like Who-ville.

I'm trying to have to have a rough listening version of "Science Will Find A Way" before we set out saying as how I probably won't be recording any music while I'm gone. The song has really transformed from my original direction. Where I thought it would go. Not super electronic in fact, lots of guitars layering with echo, flanger and tremolo. Trying to maybe channel Jackie Dante a little bit. Some of those picking and palm muted sounds really translating through the effects. I more closely identify some of his tracks. To be able to semi-duplicate his guitar sound is kind of neat. I didn't intentionally at first, but it makes it more moody and organic I think. Not that the synths aren't organic, but it seems nothing I can add to the mix with any manual arpeggiation or whatnot is making it sound any better. I want it to feel absolutely right. And being that in some, my own vague kind of way the song is inspired by some of him, how only appropriate that something like his guitar sound is in here. My hands ache from playing. Doing retakes is a major strain! I'm even toying with adding lives drums over the drum machine. Total Valley-Girl-Hollywood-dark-bar-rock. Uh - oh.

Maddy busies herself with several pre-road trip activities I know her to do. Preparing, hoping for shorts weather, she scopes Unique and grabs up a lime green denim pair of high-waisted "Sassoon"brand shorts. An over-sized-sleeveless-crooked-print t shirt. Yes, the trip to Unique. Planning routes. Over planning without me. With more time and internet access. Fearing my parents will make me paranoid. I claim full responsibility for my own paranoia thanks. No thanks to them. Give me some credit here. She cuts up shorts with me. Self-consciously looks in the mirror with me. Not that it's a pre-road trip thing necessarily. I have a lot to get in order clothes, books, notebooks, ideas. Maybe a last trip to Unique. But I should stay the hell away.

March 11, 2012 Sunday

At Carl's 10PM - Carl on phone trying to convince Leo to come across country with us. Carl's going to come too! So Maddy Carl and I will be driving out the 20th, Tuesday, that's in about a week. They're going to train it back. Maddy's fighting with me about the bus from San Francisco to Emeryville like it's some awful inconvenience and making me feel shitty for no reason. Not much point in thinking too much about it. She just wants to complain about something, feel in the know. Not that I didn't take that exact trip. That 20 minute ride. Ahhhh! I feel like I'm taking crazy pills.

Carl came with me to Selena Webster's birthday party at the Ocean Park Wine Bar last night. Maddy went with Pierre to a contra-dance. Selena's had an open bar. Carl really enjoyed this. I tried to but kept striking out with over liquored soda drinks. Girl-drink-drunk. Carl's goal was to try every beer on the list. Mom showed up too and seemed to get real nice and social like. Trying to convince me I'd enjoy a rum and coke. The DJ wasn't good but played us some Paula Abdul and Bobby Brown. We got to try out moves and groove to the sights of some Ohio City parents and Non profit workers. I stripped Elijah of his blazer and put it on. Even mom was dancing. I can't deny I don't enjoy somewhat the looks people give me when I dance around. Parents, peers, whoever. Disgusted, dazzled, girl in unflattering pants looks like she's drunk. Who knows. But I get a thrill and it feels good. And I love dancing with Carl.

March 9, 2012 Friday

25 cents a play at Steve's Lunch. They want Tom Petty/Conway Twitty, not Maroon 5. They get Randy Ravis. "Hey Yeah Instrumental" was a lucky shot for Tony once. JC cello kid from Buffalo who looks like Bud Hall also here. Touring together in a newish Volvo. Perogies, coffee with cream. It's good to get a paycheck sometimes. Talking about the chubby black guy who works at the w.65 post office who hums smooth jazz. Looking at my NYC package that I drew a crappy cartoon of the Chrysler building onto with he says "This package is going to New York!"

Maddy gets a sausage-tastic skillet, farmers skillet so good smelling. Skillet for Tony. Rye toast.

March 8, 2012 Thursday

Past 1AM - "Your pony tail isn't stupid Pierre!" Yup that tall dark and dirty blonde and beautiful man is back in town with a funny haircut. I am not much joining in in the festivities going on outside my door. I am listening to Deutsche Wertarbeit and trying to pick stuff for the show tomorrow. Ms. Dorothy Roaske something or another. Beautiful. I went soundtrack crazy tonight. John Barry from Nicolas Roeg's "Walkabout" that at times sounded like Giorgio Moroder from the Neverending Story, Richard Bellis from Stephen King's "It". Thuds upon thuds go on out in the living room. I guess they are probably drunk wrestling. Maddy says in drunkenness outside the door. Pierre makes me dance with him to this song, Country Banjo song his dad used to play him. Made me nervous. I felt so dorky bashful about it. He was good too. Taking my hand and everything and as John Hurley says goodbye to me in my front yard he hugs so long I almost have flashbacks. But goes further into picking me up and trying to spin around and be "dramatic" as he said we fall and fall hard. I hit my knee pretty good completing a great grass stain on the old khaki pants that make me look pregnant and fly-down all of the time anyway. Such a cuddly goodbye from that kid. Makes me nostalgic to have that closeness with somebody I care about. Hugging, touching, cuddling. That last was Robin. Must go to sleep. Lots of work to do tomorrow and Nicolas Austin is coming to town with Lee and Tony again! lots to paint. Got some beautiful colors tonight. Then ate a donut against my better judgement and reason at the Pleasure Dome.

9PM - Beau Animale next to Granger & James Spader. Maddy talks of the Cinemateque schedule and Cane Cambell right next to her watching her talk. He thinks she's beautiful. We talk of "Walkabout". The soundtrack, Nicolas Roeg's storytelling, visually. Maddy hasn't talked to Cane directly much all night. I wonder what he's thinking. Now they're, Granger and Maddy are doing their Werner Herzog impressions. James Spader talks a lot with Stan Holland. Guy on laptop  sits clearing away a basket of popcorn. I could listen to Granger tangent on about documentaries and oddities all day. I see Andy Wright is here. I should cough up 20 dollars for him. I owe him for the drum machine. Which I feel is becoming more and more worth it. I started working on a new song, used a programmed beat. The thing might be full. Probably from previous owner. But I like a lot of the patterns and they're pretty basic even. So many heads rested on fists rested on elbows. "No better test to weed them out then a noise show" said something of the like by Maddy. James Spader giving me his routine scowl. What would we be left with if we weren't arguing about something? About why I didn't care for Blade Runner, or why he thinks Stephen King can't finish books well. In defense I recap on sobbing at the end of "It" the book. And honestly the most interesting thing about Phillip K Dick I am aware of is that he claims to be haunted by his dead twin sister from the womb,. I've never read his books. But I read fewer and fewer fiction these days and sci-fi just doesn't interest me or hold my attention much. Tony hits switches, plugs in patches. This is a Rochelle Gonzales show. We walked in to lit candles. Nicolas Austin didn't make it. He was feeling sick. So it's just Tony with his solo noise. I'm feeling flushed I have to say Tony's "noise" is actually somewhat rhythmic. I can't believe I'd say so. I really miss some of those noise shows just for the times had with people mostly. All of these folks are split now. It seems like people are sadder all of the time. Or maybe Maddy is just more sad. I see her more than anybody No Jackie, little of Granger, no Brit Miller, little of Rochelle, no Zach Imbruglia, no Nacho House, little of Henry, No Jason. People and time will move. At least right now I have Maddy, James Spader, Marty, Carl, Jennifer, Jake, and Andy. And sometimes I see Granger. Even Granger is going by way of Path Cafe. Joining the train hopping kids.

March 5, 2012 Monday

Midnight - at Dianna's, Jake, Marty, Jennifer, me, Carl and Maddy 2nd time in a diner today where I feell ike I can't spend money. Rough. I feel like this is a bad idea until I get a paycheck from somebody. The dark eyeliner chick in the booth to the south of us says she loves sex, that it's the most important. We al can't watch things where pain is being inflicted on anybody. I want pie and things that are bad for me. "If you get mozzarella sticks, I'll get western potatoes." You're such a couple. Marty gets a strawberry milkshake. So does Carl. A couple. Complicated like Scattergories. Jake wants to pay for a 45 in quarters at Carl's record store. Carl is now rich working for Louis. Old Cleveland punker with a single dread. His whole head. Pays Carl to digitize old confidential bootleg records from his hay days, seek out information, research old speeches, lotsa stuff. It's Irish month so now we're talking about it. I'm a laughing stock of Scattergories because my entires are obscure. I get made fun of for "Peas" as "ethnic foods"...

I ordered the ketchup... thanks. I will enjoy Maddy's extra packet of maple syrup. The waitress use to stick her hands in "Goobers" as a kid. "Oh the things I used to do to that stuff as a kid" This chicky's the one. "Hey what's up, you guys doing good?" and not in a lesbian waitress at Applebee's kind of way.

March 4, 2012 Sunday

A Car honks out on the street. A moment in thought, what is going on out there? It's near 3AM and Marty just dropped off Maddy and I at home. We''d spent the last almost 4 hours watching 30 Rock back to back, before that "Ru-Paul's Drag Race", before that a trip to Giant Tiger where Maddy discovered her food stamps had not been replenished for the month and where I ate my usual sour cream donut without purchase. That's right. I flat out did not apply Free D with P. But <addy bought Morning Star biscuits and before that were jumping around in a Pete and Pete dumpster outside an upscale apartment building near "Cleveland Gray's Armory" looking for records and milk crates. Actually I don't think we were really looking for any of those things, the door to the dump was just open, becoming reason enough to investigate what was inside a mostly clean looking large dumpster. Boxes & trash bags of clothes, mattress and box spring. Marty and Carl were jumping all over so I hope they don't end up with bed bugs or anything. Carl found a Luther Vandross record, but as he heard what sounded like a pack of bros heading down the street, he force-ably flung it up and out into the air. It seemed like we were all frozen in time, looking into each others eyes, waiting for it to touch down somewhere. I thought it would be broken glass or a car alarm. But just a thud, and a moment later a confused "WHOA!" It was hard to stay so quiet. Then a lady's voice "What are yall doing in there?" as we booked it down the street, Marty milk crate in hand I found out it was a woman in an upstairs window. Good we left before cops were called or something, or before Maddy decided to keep that Mesh-fish-net-ty shirt. We could have been there a long time.

And before that we were at a Lake Erie Monsters "AHL" ice hockey game at the Q, Gund Arena. I've certainly never been to a hockey game in Cleveland. It took us a bit to get in actually. MArty had 2 free tickets but we discovered regular ticket prices were 25 each. 12.50 a piece that'd be. And everybody knows me as Mr. cheap skate right now so I couldn't do that. We walked about and found some scalpers who tried to sell us tickets for 20 a piece. Saying they're gonna charge for oxygen soon, that's scalper's language. In a passionate craze, Marty and Carl started trying to scalp tickets for cheaper to compete. We ended crossing the street feeling defeated, but one of the dudes chased us down and all of the sudden, we have tickets and we're booking it for the arena enterence. It takes me eons to get them to admit they paid 10 each. Guilty about it I split cost on a 6 dollar endless bucket of popcorn. One that mad my teeth aching by the end of the game. We grabbed seats and stuck ourselves in the path of a spilt beer/ They had dudes dressed as the Hanson brothers from "Slapshot" scooping/cleaning up the ice. Taped glasses and mullets. Marty gets a kick making fun of number 15 for the Charlotte Checkets team who falls standing in one place for no reason. "You fell for no reason!" "Hey number 15, why don't you fall again?!" It's called a "Flop" we are informed. During the Monsters few scores we're up on our feet screaming, throwing popcorn in the air, the two teenage boys behind us are cheering hysterically trying to catch our popcorn. Marty snatches the bucket and throws a huge handful i the air. In front of us sits some suburban family. 2 young sons just having a good time, their mom, artificially tanned, dark, flat ironed hair with a muffin top. They're all in Brown's jerseys. Dad, bad buzzed-ish hair we learn is a car salesman. He looked like one. But this guy is just giving us this death-stare as if we'd been shoving popcorn down his precious kids's throat. Marty leans behind Maddy telling me he can't look at him with this smile on his face, tail between his legs. It's a great us against them moment. And this ridiculous buzzed dad just keeps on starring it's intense, he's not even watching the game. But our defining moment arrives when the first shot in a jumbotron audience montage gets Carl, Marty and Mervin the puppet. I see it immediately and start screaming, it's great. And that ain't all. The kids behind us are so excited as Carl screams and hugs them both. "WE DID IT!"High fives and happiness. But again, this time a close shot of Mervin with those teen boys in the back and we're going Ape-shit! Tonic water is flying, Marty and Carl aren't even in the shot, but Marty pops up in the screen as some kind of elevator and sticks his head right in Mervin's mouth. Total "kiss-kam"! Everyone's cheering and I want to kiss somebody, I feel like I'm in an Adam Sandler movie. At the very end everyone's hugging. I'm high-five-ing the teen boys with their dad. IT's beautiful amongst all of this popcorn-throwing-angsty-chaos-drinking sips of tonic water that tastes like your used dental floss, or ... a homeless man's breath. WOOF! I have a crush on my friends! I love these guys!

March 3, 2012 Saturday

11:30AM - Wake up a lump. My sleeping in, am I wasting so much time? I had in my head to go to the station today and participate in record refiling but it's so windy, I'm not sure anymore. I guess it's easy to feel discouraged through when you just wake up. I'm making coffee and sitting in the kitchen and the 1 dollar I tried not to spend last night, I did on a coke at Tinas. Lots of singers. Marty, Carl, Andy, Jake, and I danced a lot, mostly in accompaniment to others karaoke time. I even removed my shoes. But still I shouldn't have spent that dollar.

I woke up after this really weird dream. I was in San Francisco but it looked nothing like it, It was night time and still any fan of my band in Cleveland was floating about. But later. I was taking their rail and kept ending up at the top of this one building, an old building where the door to the stop was a weird stone slab that would just de-materialize at the push of a button for you to get through. It was on this top floor and everything was covered in a thick layer of dust or ash. I figure I kept going back up this place that was deserted, though I don't know why. Things about it kept hanging. It was on a rooftop and doors would all of the sudden become inaccessible and one of these times the doors to the rail like some Jedi technology was no longer in service, The button wouldn't work. I was somewhat terrorfied thinkin I was trapped there, sealed in. the place had been abandonded so long, they finally shut down the stop everything was grey and I walked around in despair but all the sudden, light and the place was spik & span and some guy was showing around a small group of young adults who wanted to rent the place. The kitchen was all neat and modern, dark caramelly wood and black. But what comes to my attention and he acknowledges me is that one of the folk is Elijah under a wig. And he's laughing to me and owe are surprised to see each other. And I'm relieved because I'm not trapped. I don't know why he's in disguise but the place grows dark again from the spot by the rail door and my band is supposed to be playing this show to be recorded on this rooftop place. I'm alone by the rail door and in this corner where the ceiling gets lower there are rafters and such I find Sam. He's hung himself. And I feel like I've seen this before, found him like this before, but this time it's it and he's dead. He's killed himself and this becomes this whole tragic theme of our show. Sam is dead and gone and none of us knows what to do. The room is full of Cleveland people and color. I walk about so upset and traumatized after finding him. Alan and Hank call in some friend with white hair in a pony tail from another band who can sit in. I'm on the phone with Rachel Dratch, that old SNL comedian who is just more funny looking than funny. I don't know why. She lives with Gio and I'm trying to meet up with her but she's too cheap for the rail fare and keeps getting mad, but the band starts up. I have to hang up on her and probably look like a dipshit for being on my phone. I can barely hear the mic, What I do is end up turning it off so I can turn it back on. There is still mourning in the air and people sit about sad. I am getting in and out of a swimming pool telling Rachel Dratch to just forget it and we'll see each other next time, and she thinks I have a lover I'm with. Back in the performance room Sam's ghost shows up and people are asking him all kinds of questions. How does it feel and all. He says it feels great, he's super spaced out too. And then his ghost tries to buy weed off of somebody and everybody is in awe that you can still smoke weed when you're a ghost. Okay and then I'm a kid with my friends asking parents if we can run off to other tents at a carnival. Maybe because I watched an episode of the Babysitters Club on VHS before I went to bed. Doesn't explain to Sam's suicide though. It did make me want floral leggings, Head-And-Shoulders-shampoo-hair (That Maddy has recently bought because supposedly it's good for Bacne) and little Danny Tamberelli. I daydream that maybe Jackie looked a little like little cute orange-haired Danny when he was little, before he was breaking hearts and making
records.

March 2, 2012 Friday

2PM - I have heard the voice of my generation, and his name is Ansel Arkin. In my room listening to Ansel and Kevin's record. It's so good. It's like nothing that's going on right now. As I told people last night. This is a band I could see myself paying 30 dollars to see some day. Plays at 45 RPM. My stereo was already set because I had been listening to those 7"s from the Path's basement. The show last night was great. He himself could have had more reverb, but it was both genius and spectacular, on fire and full of anger energy. He has this look on his face for a length of time, so serious, to which he says  ... "That was my Mit Romney face." I observe, like the T shirts, he does really look like Beavis & Butthead. Nearing the end of the set the jukebox from the bar starts infiltrating the room pretty bad. It's distracting but was super memorable.  During these pauses his hands are in the air in these dramatic gestures and this music is leaking in, he throws in there "What the hell is going on?" gestures into the mix. It makes everybody laugh. "Where can I get a record by the backup band?" "Uh.. myspace, last FM, itunes."I helped mom buy some records and a t shirt she can wear while gardening. I joke around with Kevin at the merch table. I put two copies of their record I bought under our 1 single record for sale. A kid comes up asking about it, to which I remark. "This is our first record, and this is our second record." pointing to revealing their record.

"You know what's a great thing to do at Sheetz? Open the donut case, pretend like you're sniffing something and take a bite." Car ride with Carl and Jake to get Maddy at Albert and Caitlin's. The bazaar was creep. Old people staring suspiciously. It's annoying to be watched like you're about to steal. Steal a warped record, or a pilled old Adidas sweater.

February 29, 2012 Wednesday

Target. I'm still very wet from our swim at Cudell Rec center. Twas Maddy, Carl, Marty and I. We're now here to bug Jake and get 50 cent drinks. Venti coffee for Carl, iced coffee venti for me. Strawberry smoothie for Marty, big iced americano for Maddy. "It's been a very "ghetto" day" says Marty. It's the last day of Black History month. Marty insists on us playing loud music with our cell phone speakers. I guess they're watching "Pootie Tang" tonight. I hafta work on my show. Movie talk at Starbucks in Target. Dad flicks, "Dawn of The Dead" To Earthfare to buy natural "ghetto" food like Seitan chicken nuggets. Shopping list. Maybe we can punctuate the night with another episode of Ru Paul's Drag Race.

February 28, 2012 Tuesday

Last night was really a mover and a shaker around the house. Maddy made dinner. This spicey-as-hell Penne Pasta for Marty, Carl, Chubby, Jake, James Spader and I. And it turned into Maddy turning on her projector when I put on some jams to clean up to. Kuruki! Then she took this glasswear and dripped different color dye into it. It was the coolest! Chubby looked dazed in the shitty chair. It made everything look psychedelic and spectacular. Some Madonna too and I think I want to use this projector idea in a music video for either one of my songs or a band song. Great moving shadows. Maybe 3 doing synchronized dances. We played taboo for a bit. Carl and Marty won and we were all pissed off at the game by the end. Maddy played us a song she feels guilty for liking by this "Lana Del Rey" chick and we danced some more. Bobby Brown, New Kids on The Block, Spice Girls, Guru girl queen Bat For Lashes, Gary Glitter, Enigma. With the projector light exploding behind him, John Hurley looked like a perfect 1980s heart throb spurned or pining away. I took the video to Bobby Brown's 'Rock Witcha' Ended the night with "name that soundtrack" I think Marty and Chubby were too tired to object.

Sheetz in Parma. No food purchase for moi. but I do enjoy a trip. Jake's avegetarian eats a wheat bun with some weird shit on it. A guy that looks like Nick Nulte eats 2 personalized pizzas alone. This Sheetz has a seating area. On our way in a guy is plowing through this powdered donut, just destroying the thing. As we walked by he looked as if we caught him in the act doing something dirty. He left behind a poswered war zone in his wake. A clerk yells something about a "Maddy" or at a "Maddy" and Marty counters "Bitch, get my name outcha' mouth!" We laugh, but the guy in the Eddie Bauer sweater almost loses his slurpie wakling out the door. "This guy's my new best friend" very enjoyable to make other people laugh by surprise. When he comes back in he's being rambunctious as the clerks are burning a bagel and the place is filling up with smoke. I think he's trying to impress Marty, make friends, like a cat in heat. On our way here as wherever you drive through Parma with Maddy we got the ... well, Maddy tour. St. Dimitri's and the different rooms she shat herself in. Her ex-step mom's house with a haunted basement. Now we're sitting in the ... seating area taking photos of my impression of Claire Federman in that I thought were actually impressions of Maddy's mirror face. Then Marty has a selection of celebrities he can clip in the photo. He chooses Tupac in Claire's picture. In the car, Maddy sat next to the Queen of England and Michael Jackson. Maddy, "Can I drive home?"

February 26, 2012 Sunday

4:30 AM Still Saturday, because awake I am still. What a most fun and great night with friends. With Carl, Jake, and Jennifer. They picked me up in Jennifer's car and we went to George Ding's party. Stropping at CSU Boyle Tower first so Jake could sign in in time. Otherwise no spooning with his sweetie. Carl and I waited in the lobby and tried to decide if the 1930s country club photos capturing Boyle tower's past were fake or not. "She's texting!" So, 3 friends, an Iraq war veteran asking for money, 4.50 to get his car out of this lot who sings reggae, a bottle of nasty Southern Comfort, a mason jar of toddy, and George's home-made Bailey's later, we are dancing our night balls off. Also a Trent Kinder band plays. Vibes are flying through the air like confetti leaves. Carl is killing it. I'm teaching Matt Waters dance moves. I'm falling in love with Carl. I'm in love with everybody! So many happy faces, and not a dry seat in the house. Everybody dancing and having a good time. But letting any preconceived notions fly out the window I did what I wanted to. What-the-hell, this Trent Kinder's group has a skinny guy in high -waisted wool slacks and an orange sweater with Hugh Grant hair and a mustache on guitar and vocals. A Third Man thing going on the label I mean. All night I'm dubbing him a "Flosten" kid. One of those oh-so-beautiful-Burberry-add-kids. Every move a photograph. It's a mean thing but so much of the tie they act like this/come off this way. You've met them once maybe, hosted one of their "guru girl" photo series in a Barfarama "art show" at your house, but they still won't acknowledge you. Sometimes my eyes wander with this kid. He doesn't seem to be with everybody else. Talking with a few friends, moving from corner to corner. Talking with George. Dancing just a little. He's out of a novel, and it's hard to tell if these people are jerks or if they're just socially awkward. He's sitting up on George's loft bed with his feet hanging over. WE're about to leave, I say, "Who cares?" to myself, "Why not?" You can't stop looking. So I climb. "Hi.. I liked your group." and the response was little lights in his eyes. A warm glow and a sweet soft-shy kind of voice. "I saw you out there, I liked your footwork." He shakes my hand "I'm William", "I'm Phillipa" Good-to-meet-yous. Before we leave I tell him to go to George's again when George & Sam start doing the soul parties. Maybe I should have been friendly sooner, but oh well. It just goes to show you never can tell with people unless you try. Say hi. Let them know you notice them. It's really something, not exchanging anything but names, with an urge to meet somewhere again time undecided in the future. I like that. Suspenseful, like a movie. He waved again when we were at the door. William the sweet guy sitting over there, and you know that now. You said Hello. I think he wanted George or Sam to play some Beatles.

11PM - Carl's house. Nell another night. In front of the wide screen again. Maddy talks about her 12 hour long dream last night. Some guru saying the Gods gave him a new color called "Trillium". Ann Turner was there, Maxwell's sister. She was in a "Rock" city. Jennifer thinks Maddy is a "Pheobe" in "Friends-World". I'm a "Monica". Courtney Cox. I listen to Carl, Liz Norris, Adam Goldman and Maddy speak in tongues about Psyche & Prog music and maybe I would know what they're talking about if Carl ever made me the tape he said he would ages ago. I the dark about such things I guess I don't are that much. I'm content safari-ing for new synth pop. There's no end. It's 11:11 make a wish! Cats can hear your fingers rubbing together loud, "It's called Kittie num nums, and cats love it." Trying to think of games, stuff to entertain ourselves. We can't be here too too late, Maddy watches Gem at 7am. Scattergories it is!

February 22, 2012 Wednesday

4AM The humming of the soda machines at the Staples Mills rail station could be an Angelo Badalamenti score. Laura Palmer's theme. The same hum as the frozen section in the Pleasure dome Giant Tiger, W. 117th. I forgot to wave bye to dad in his car when he drove away. It was a good hug though.

The canned black coffee is disgusting .. so awful. "Illy Cafe" no no. And what I did with it, I spilled the damn thing all over myself trying not to let moms bag fall over. Coffee strikes again, Teddy Roosevelt would be proud, guzzling a gallon a day ain't nothing I have that doesn't have a coffee stain. Coffee stain my life.

9:2 - Something AM. Filter Coffee shop on 20th St. NW in  Washington DC. It took a bit of turning around to get here and some aching shoulders and a 2.40 dollar Metro ticket. w Pandas on it. Mom pausing to say she doesn't think she can do this in front of the 1890 mansion church of Scientology. A breather on the steps. We have so much luggage it's almost obscene. We're packing moms vintage light bulbs and I'm wheeling that around in her laptop rolling case. So I've got my unnecessary 2 bags plus this roller. Mom has her mid-sized roller and giant canvas sack. We're ready for a middle-class safari you'd think. Mom also comments that she's seen several people look at our luggage with "disdain". What is wrong with me that I managed to travel San Fran for a week with only 1 bag, chrome full and now I'm carrying 2? I need to rethink some things looks like.

Cold brew is in my hand. It is an espresso blend of Panama and Brazilian. Filter is in Dupont circle. We took the red line. I took mom down the street in the wrong direction. F. I can smell the Eucalyptus heavy. The cute girl at the counter looks familiar and likes my necklace. The guy and her both answer when I ask if they serve a cold brew. "All year round" he says with a smile. Mom's friend 's office is at the metro stop on blue line. We can put our bags there after all!

10:44 - On the mall. Dirt paths The Washington monument to my left. Amidst the galleries of the Smithsonian. The metro also to my left. Mom ran into the Freer Gallery behind me to find a bathroom. It was a full 15 minute wait for the cargo train. An asian mom and 2 kids boy and girl snap a photo standing on a bench. The girl repeats several times "Greetings from Washington DC!" Now she takes pictures of the kids pointing at the Washington monument. "Nathan, I can't even see you. Nathan look at me. Fine, don't be in pictures" an they're off. I'll probably never see them again. Haven't heard from moms friend. 2 more pretty asian girls study the National mall map. One has a pretty handbag in the shape and design as a decorative Japanese fan. I hope mom is okay.

3:17 PM - A pigeon lands in front of me inside Union Station where mom and I sit. Mom dips her head into her scarves dozing off to sleep. Cute little guy. Little affirmation of life in all of this commuting chaos. Pecks at crumbs on the ground. If only it had been around an hour ago as I passed a small McDonalds french fry overboard between the Chipotle and Au Bon Pain. Birdy now sits in rafters above some upper deck. Spooked a woman and child that didn't see him. Chicago gate D15. We skipped out on a lot of Smithsonian on account of tired feet and wanting to be better safe than sorry with too much bad luck trains, customer service, etc. I mean what is this, bad customer service? Why are you being paid? To be an asshole to me for absolutely no reason? Give me a break. Mom and her friend and I check out the Freer Gallery, Asian art, featuring a fair amount of Hokusai screens and painted pottery, a few sketches, Dad was red jealous over the phone. Hokusai, painter of the Great wave. His favorite. I enjoyed a screen depicting animals in different seasons of the year in particular. Turtles, ones on the bottom of the sea looking up at a turtle on the surface. Really good with detail. Joints and bones and spot on with patterns in men and women's clothing. It's superb, and free to look at. Makes me want to try painting more. I have ideas I may have mentioned, then onto the natural history museum just mom and I through herds of parents and children. I wanted to see some kind of artifact, something with a historical significance in popular culture. I had written down exhibits I wanted to see but had not been aware of the permanent collections. What our draw ended up being was rocks, in particular, The Hope Diamond. What kid into paranormal history or who saw "Titanic" 7 times in theatres wouldn't be into that? So we came and we saw. It was pretty. Sparkling and wondrous with history and it will outlast us all. With all our fingerprints smudged away.

We walked on through a maze of colored rocks, precious and semi precious, cut, polished and not so much. Tiaras given as gifts by Napoleon with turquoise in replacement of the original emeralds with diamonds. An actual "Emerald Necklace".  It's amazing what old Earth can make with it's own hands given time and gas. I wish I could say that for all of us. Mom goes gaga over it all. I realize how man great synth band names are floating around this exhibit. "Mineral Friends" "Rhodocrosite?"

On train, getting on double decker in daylight hours, not common. Jerry, the coach attendant is a lively man, I inform him that there's more to see in Cleveland than the rock hall. "I never knew" says he. He has a great speech for everyone on the train. Spunky. Maybe it's the daylight. It's just, usually Amtrak attendants look like a bunch of dead horses or like they're going through withdrawals. Cracks joke about his chicken embroidered cap falling off the overhead compartment in front of this lone traveling Judge Reinhold type, balding. "You're stealing my hat already?" A righteous dude. I catch the guy laughing to himself. I like that. People laughing to themselves. It means they're remembering something. Then he cracks open a can. His hands move over the label slowly before I can tell what it is. A tall boy can of "Icehouse" beer. I can't not smile. Hands on a can. He has a crushed-ish box of Corn Chex in bis bag too.

First stop, Rockville, MD. I'm waiting for the lid on my "Pret" Orange juice to blow off again with a bang with all the shit that's mixed in it now. Was good OJ then I mixed Rooibos ... WOOF! Then later to put the kabash on the honk smoothie I poured what was left of my grape juice detox soda from Pret in there. So it's this funky semi-carbonated liquid that tastes the way my concoctions as a kid with kitchen oils and herbs would smell and then I poured them on the furniture and lied about them. I think maybe I'll dump it out. Let the train insides have it. Use the bottle for my coffee. Until it pops again and I stain something else.

Bathrooms - I like Amtrak bathrooms. They are in my experience minimalistic, color coordinated and for the most part, clean. I just used one with a changing room fit with a vanity and xtra sink! I feel like a star with a super flush-suck toilet. I even appreciate the font in which "trash" and "diapers & napkins" is etched in the steel compartment shoots. I would have one for my own. In a very 1960s - 70s hue of orange.

"Wild and Wonderful West Virginia everybody! You'll have to maintain your enthusiasm." says Jerry. Sounding like Tim Meadows. Judge Reinhold and I share a share and chuckle in that way that 2 people in eye shot of each other seats across can't help. I look over at mom heavily breathing in dreamland mouth-open. I can't escape Judge over there motioning at mom "----Out-----" he says. I wonder how that Icehouse is feeling. The conductor comes on and reminds us of the upcoming smoke breaks and that on the train it is illegal. We could be escorted off train by police. I dare see judge pointing at me "Smoking" earlier as I parked my head on the tray table for a nap Elementary school style. I hear Judge call over  "Do you want a pillow?" "There are some over here and more above".. "No thanks"... all is over. Reminds me how sad I was that no one was around for me to make reference to podcasts on band car trips passed. Comedy Death Ray or Bang Bang or something featuring a very self depreciating "Paul Giamati". At one point I can't remember what is going on but everything he says is echoing, all of his complaining and wining and he's getting lost in it and lets out a fierce "I'm in hell!" and well, no reference could have better described how I was feeling going up and down escalators rolling suit cases to the metro carrying two heavy bags of my own on my back. I had a Paul Giamati in me amongst crowds of students, moms, field trips, and young and old professionals in those tunnels yelling "I'm in hell!" about to explode/implode and nobody was around to laugh at that except me. And I did.

Judge ruffles through his Corn Chex. I hear plastic crinkle and chex crush in his hand then I hear little Chex hit the vents near the floor and bounce "CHING!"--- I bang my head on the tray table trying to look down at vent just now. I get his attention. -- I hear crunching and him laughing at something on his phone. Then attendant comes by saying he needs to cover up his tall boy that we're not supposed to have outside alcoholic beverages on the train. Judge acts surprised through his Corn Chex-mouth. But locked in mutual understanding, attendant (Not Jerry) lets it slide. "Just cover it up" and like a concerned father, takes one of the Amtrak pillows, made of dryer sheets and puts it on the beer. It was heartwarming.  I look at him, he shrugs in a Steve Urkle kind of way and I go "shhh" in jest. "I know!" He says in Chex-mouth. He thinks I write tiny. The sun goes down in West Virginia. I guess I won't get to see any of those little woodland trailer paradises. Judge Reinhold laughs "Too tall" banging his head on the overhead.

"You can't write now. You can't see that" Judge says. I realize I might should have sat in the observation car while it was still light out and I could see. Oh well. A car zips though the night with it's headlights. It could be traveling through space. Just like Maddy, Granger and I were on the Highway 1, California coast in the middle of the night, fog rushing in. "I don't need to see it" I say. Jerry walks down the aisle holding a dinning car menu looking confused. The food is also, like the trash cans, made from recycled material. Smoke break, Cumberland MD! Suck it Amtrak! I can't sleep... this must be the Cleveland car. Everybody's going out for a smoke. The golden land of inhibitions. A Sheetz glows in the Oasis of Little Caesar's & Burger King. I would destroy macaroni bites right now, just because I'm bored.

Why did I have so many crazy F-d up dreams this past week? Not so much last night. Not much sleep, though I was trying to get myself out of a very large tree shaped like an animal. It was very high up and I don't remember how I got up there, but Stephanie Ruggerio was there and Tall Adam was somewhere on the ground perhaps with friends. Darren Embry may have been there too. But the night before was just utter child-molesting chaos. Well.. more than children. they were these creepy males, one who might not exist alike anyone I actually know. But I had let him too much into my life after people warned me... kind of like this radio dude (not like I'm implicating him) and I the parts of the dream I can remember he is chasing Maddy and I around our house and we are hiding form him in a bedroom. It's more like a long one floor house like the ones in Alabama. He's a shorter skinny guy with thinning hair. It's a freaky dream. We know he's killed somebody we know, but who? Don't know. It's like we're early high school aged again. H e's kicking at the door psychotically, all of this pounding on doors in my dreams. Then we are spinning through a wet parking lot with other of our guy friends and I think my mom is driving. And we're almost crying. We don't want to let this guy, thin hair guy in the car. But he's one of us, our friends and mom doesn't understand. I think Carl and Marty and Leo are there. Maybe thin hair guy has killed some girl, and he's trying so desperately to get in the car. I'm reaching to keep the sliding door shut ad I'm crying. Then... this is awful but there's this guy James who I've booked for art shows at The Path who has also been doing something bad. He's heavier with thick blonde/white hair. I just see him walking in and out of doorways in the daylight. From what I can remember it doesn't seem like much, but it was so much. all in the dreams was uneasiness and terror in the face of people I thought I knew. I need to start filming this stuff! I miss Maddy and my boys.

Some guy just barely made it back onto the train from smoking.

You know sometimes I truly find myself in memory trying to figure out what were dreams and what were things that actually happened. I mean some things seem so ridiculous to me that now I think, of course they must have been dreams. But I remember times as a kid I would ask myself these same questions. and be totally convinced that yes, they were real. Like this confusing dream or memory I have of Sandy and Shelly, my cousins and I climbing up through a hole in their closet up into these mazes and mazes stacked on top of each other of rooms and we could hide and play in them. Some rooms were literally no bigger than a coffin that you had to squeeze through. Others with ramps and inclines bisecting the room that you had to scooch up to the next cubby hole. Utterly strange. But in my head for years anytime my head dredged it up for whatever reason, I would always think of it as a memory and not a fantastical dream. What does that mean? And if it wasn't real, why did I think it was?