February 7, 2012 Tuesday

1:AM - I'm really getting some mileage out of this Kawai drum machine from Andy Wright. Recorded this song tonight. I call it "Regina" for Mr. Regalo, not necessarily for any one reason but because I would like to. I used an old line of mine "I will pull you from the pavement". Although this is the first song I can honestly say I recorded vocally by stream of conscious. I sang whatever popped into my head. I almost gave up on the track tonight as I had hoped to be recording some version of "Chameleon". It just didn't sound right in the end. "I will lay you in the sun". For Mr. Regalo maybe. Online I sync the soundcloud upload with an archival 1700s picture of a man or perhaps a woman in an old straight jacket. Man... begoten sadness in their face is super intense. It's black and white and heavy all over. I emphasized the volume on the drum machine. My favorite part. It's like it's grabbing you by the colar and shaking you to the beat. I like that in Carmody, Iron Curtain, Martin Dupont. Drum machine has become as emotionally colonizing as distinctive vocals to me, essential right now. The vocals in "Regina" are 2 tracks on top of each other. Harmonizing and honestly in the final mix, you can barely make out any of the lyrics. Strictly for the sake of vocal melody, I am glad this song happened tonight. I became the human arpeggiator with the keys. Wanting a somewhat Giorgitalo sound I tried, but perhaps the vox removed it. Elizabeth Frasier is barely understandable. There you go! Those keys were such a pain! Must have taken some 30 different tries, I felt like a freshmen in high school again trying to record the keyboard part to "Suffer The Children" to tascam for our talent show audition. Impossible! Too angsty! Midway through recording I spot a coffee cup on the dresser, and god dammit the bottom has composted out! And on my butterfly cased J. Dante tape! Hell, of all it's brushes with death. I can't believe this coffee! I think it's saved only one of the photos, everything pretty much is stained with coffee. Besides the green photo. Jesus, coffee, love of my life, staining everything forever. Say goodbye to your turquoise-Cory-Haim sweater vest. Mother fuck.

- As far as still being jobless... you know. I'd say I've done alright so far with this time. I have material put out on tape or I will with Kerry, so I'm creating. Designed a tape cover in one afternoon that I can honestly say I'm happy with. An image taken from Debbie & Carlos Rosa's "Non-Impact Aerobics" book, drawn in red colored pencil with value change in red, blue cursive "Swallowed Whole" on milar, squished against another milar with purple-red water color paint in between. A total pain in the ass trying to get it to maintain any kind of consistency in placement. I thought It would dry. But it did not. It continued to move, and anytime I thought it looked good, my scanner source would prove futile and I would have to retire it once again to the sketchbook. Julia's in Westlake finally came through for me. Geez. But I regret the color. It lost some of it's deepness, so what I had to do what take the colored copy from the earlier and stick it behind the layers you could see. It looked pretty alright in the end. And all inconveniences aside I feel pretty inspired by these techniques actually. Maybe I'll start doing colored pencil drawings on milar then I can squish water colors behind them. Maybe even on glass! I can maybe even light it from behind. It could be so real! Kind of psychedelic. Maybe even where it can cast colored shadows on the walls. Hell! I want to create something for Alan's shop! That could be super cool! I walked in there the other night. He was staining a crap ton of wood for the record bins he's building himself. Building the counter too. The walls were chocolate-like in color. I'm very happy for Alan. I'd still like to make him that list. Records to get for "Frauline". Is it creepy to make artwork, giant renderings of peoples faces who you adore when if decent, they will probably find out about? I don't know. Listening to "Life Preserver" again. My favorite track I think is the one called "Ocean Skin". Funny surfer-guido-men.

I like the color of my bedroom walls. Sea-Foam-Green. And with the pink lantern light it makes me feel  pretty happy. That pink feels good in my soul. And my favorite things hang on strings above me.

February 6, 2012 Monday

At home, half box of Snow White Donuts all smashed into each other from a ride in my bike basket sitting in front of me on yellow formica kitchen table. Adam and Sara make reheat chili. Making a french press for the donuts. Got really lost trying to get myself to Snow White earlier. Took 480 and got off at the wrong exit. I barely know Old Brooklyn streets. So I might as well have been blind, because even after calling for directions I made my way back to Ohio City before I even found the place. I was very angry. I tend to really flip one in a car when I screw up directions, or get lost. I wish I wouldn't. I find myself asking myself "What can I do to calm myself down?" listening to recording of my radio show. I finally find the place. A dozen plain, 2 PB&J, 2 maple crullers, 2 chocolate crullers. Damn sugar. And a last minute salted caramel. Talked for about 20 minutes with the lady behind the counter and the owners dad, a former Cleveland cop. Wanted to stock Snow White Donuts at Dark Star Cafe. It was kind of a dark and awkward experience for a minute when we got onto the topic of riots & the projects on W.25th. He said their used to be a Sears on 70-something and Euclid and they hired guards during one of these riots that were ordered to shoot down any of these "folk" who came onto their property. This old former-copper blasts on the stupidity of politicians these days with their way of dealing with situations like so... "Soon word got out that they'd shoot yah, and they weren't coming around anymore" ..."Sometimes things need to be done the old way." What do you say to that but, "That's pretty dark, whoa." Who knows what kind of twisted shit this old cop got into in his day. I hate to imagine it.

I took donuts to Dark Star Cafe new roasters, and future cafe at Cathedral & 29th. Leslie was there with journalist Ashton. They bickered in jest about Leslie passing up canoli Ashton brought but going in for Snow White. The space is super beautiful. Big glass garage door, indoor windows, hardwood floors,lots of wood on the walls, hanging orb lamps, some stuff to be changed later of course. Wall paper boarders & paint. The old fireman's pole unfortunately out of commission. Sealed up top. I can easily see a great little cafe in there! For the kicker, there is this out-of-this-world space in the back that Oscar, the building owner is trying to rent out. It's pretty raw as of now. 1700 Sq. feet. Some hardwood floor some cement and then this giant soundstage. Id on't know what you would call it. All white painted the cornering walls transform right into the floor, you could skate board up it if you wanted to. he showed it to me with all my enquiry. The natural light needed some definite improvement, but with the replacement of the garage door for glass, it would be no problem! He didn't give me a price, but he said it is all dependent upon the build-out. Live/work would mean bathroom/kitchen, the lease would determine as well. But boy my fantasies run away with me! That soundstage, and on top of that how the whole place is basically all soundproofed already! Perfect for dancing, for filming anything, dance videos, music videos, really anything at al. So many possibilities and the lofted spaces you could design and create! My god! All open floor plan, so spectacular, I just dream away, like a homelier Cynthia Dale is how I feel!

February 5, 2012 Sunday

In room, bedroom listening to Life Preserver record. Just spoke to Maddy not long ago. She was by herself walking in downtown Seattle, WA. Had just said Goodbye to Duncan. took the train back up to Vancouver, Jackie guitar loops in track 3 side 1 right now. I miss Maddy. She keeps my feet on the ground, Makes me feel not as crazy. Then more crazy. The trouble we have with males in our lives. This weekend with Allison was intense. I'm glad that even though, we don't spend much time together that she relates enough, finds me friend enough to lay it all down for me, her feelings about things. Mainly men, and boys. And she listens to me. What I can't just talk to anyone about. Sometimes it's just relieving to let out in audible words to listening ears your love for another person, even if that very person can' hear you. She's currently in some trouble with this 2 years-post-mormon, 32-year old guy in her breakdance zone named Stefan who lifts weights and barely listens to music. Strange stuff. She though with waning interest for him herself, is hurt feeling that she's been used. A weekend of on and off girltalk, cat talk. Laying on stomachs on my bed, over hot dogs and tots at Happy Hound on Friday, Steve's Lunch perogies, and bad service this morning at Jo Jo's over coffee, 3 dollar coffee and croissant and muffin. Don't go to Jo Jo's Sunday at 10:30 am if you don't want to see the yuppie-parents -of-the-white-kid-you-had-a-crush-on-your-junior-year-of-high-school-but-was-a-year-older-with-the-Cramps-tote-bag. I called them out before I remembered who they were. Funny, I also saw Rob driving down 25th St. In a white sedan, windows down, music blaring just the other day.

Mom and I watched Audrey & Alan Arkin in "Wait Until Dark" tonight after a Madonna super-bowl halftime show. I finally got my tape artwork scanned at Julia's after many failed attempts at other sources. Realizing I would rather my shitty pop star name be "Regina Regallo"after "Reginald Regallo" , revolutionary psych doctor in Italy in think in the 1700s who said "if we treat the mentally ill with kindness we will cure them." More likely at least. Screwed that at anytime ideas like that had to be revolutionary. one man freed from chains and darkness after 40 years exclaims at seeing the sky "How beautiful!". That really resonated with me. So at some point, "Regina" it will be. Listen all of this talk of history and philosophy. I'm beginning to sound like John Hurley. You visit his home, and you get a lecture from him on Constantinople and the reality of Jesus as he passes in front of you sitting on his couch while smoking 8 cigarettes and then saying he'll punch you in the face if you try "falling for him"

Maddy comes home on Saturday morning.

February 4, 2012 Saturday

I'm in my room. Allison from Rochester is here, but she's at a breakdance workshop at Case Western. Time to come up with a cover for my tape. Jackie Dante is in New Zealand for the Life Preserver tour.

7 something, at Slunch with Allison from Rochester. So today in and out of the bedroom I crossed paths with Adam on the way to see how it felt outside. "You got a package from a baseball player!" says Adam with smirk on his face. I was completely surprised but boy fireworks started going off inside of me! Who else. The real Jackie Dante sends me a parcel. In it is a Life Preserver record in all of it's late 80s/early 90s looking beauty. On back all kinds of funny stories however far fetched about drips to Santa Barbara for spring break, meeting princes, rich with prety girls. It's everything it should have been even came with a poster of Jackie and Layne against a collage of surfy photos. Not sure if it's a mis-print or not, has Life Preserver printed backwards and upside down. Cool anyway. Not sure if it would be okay for me to hang up something like that. Being that he's my super super crush. As if he didn't know. He also sent me a Propaganda record. Cool! He bout it at some often visited record store in Pittsburgh. "Jerry's". I think. Haven't listened to side B yet. Big printed letters over a super dark picture of man and woman, woman at mans knees maybe. I tried to copy the letter style on "Swallowed Whole" but did not manage well. Just ended up cursive. Plain and simple.

On the postcard is pictured a gigantic sandcastle in the "San Diego Sandcastle Competition". I wonder when I will see him again. I am meaning to make him a tape. Maybe write him a letter telling him why I think "The Crying Game" is so great.

February 3, 2012 Friday

Litchfield, OH around Noon . Came down here to Dark Star roastery with Jack Jackson to look at the goods. It's small, one 12 Lb roaster. Just Leslie, Danny & the two of us. Lots of paraphernalia. Grinders, tea pots, buckets, espresso machines. I'm describing to them Snow White Donuts, how good they are. Best glazed I've ever had, how nobody serves donuts. It's so simple, and people love them! Danny is pretty into it. Danny & Theo went out to Frisco late last year and did lots of shop scouting too.

Jack Jackson and I are left alone in shop while Leslie and Danny go to the bank. Jack thinks I should call the tape "Swallowed Whole". Angsty and sexual a bit. I guess that's okay. He had a point, the more you think about the title, the more pretentious it is going to sound. That could make sense. Now just to finish naming groups involved. Maybe just stick with "Idea" and the "modern", even though I hate the name, I used to think it was so "it".

Now Leslie is being interviewed by a journalist named Ashton. His history, etc. really anything. Ashton writes in a notebook. No tape recorder. A Moleskin, maybe a Leuchturm, not sure. That style college ruled lines, he writes fast and covers multiple lines thick. Train of thought style you'd say. He looks over at me. I wonder if he's nervous. Writing at the same time. I wonder if I'm pissing off Leslie. Not a good idea I suppose. Ashton switches hands. Maybe he's ambidextrous. Maybe he's worried I'm copying his notes. Oh Shit! Sounds like Leslie's wife is a black belt. Is that journalism sense of humour? "She's kind of a badass is what you're saying."

Jack Jackson busies himself packing 112 g sample bags of coffee. I enjoyed our ride down here. We had to stop at Bellini's in North Royalton to get some supplies. Filters, green coffee beans decaf. We got to take a little tour of their warehouse by chance, this guy, maybe the owner, named Steve. It took two people to bring john his can of purel caf and coffee bags. It made me feel a bit like I was in the Twilight Zone. Like, David Lynch's own coffee warehouse. I mean, besides the fact that I'm sure he does in fact have one. One of these messengers looks like a high school intern and the other looks somewhat handicap. In fact, is handicap. Funny two fairly light-weight items took two people to deliver. The one lady had a cane for heavens sake. She looked a bit like a really old Shelly Duvall. Lynchian again! As we walk through the warehouse past the towers of Monin syrups and instant smoothie mixes in and out of the rainforest of white boxes and industrial metal shelving, in and out with wheelie carts zoom very unhappy looking middle aged men that don't look like they get enough sunlight. Receding hairlines, tight sweatshirts, high - water pants. We're almost startling them it seems. Unfamiliar faces. Walking through. They are with backs hunched, stuffing bags with smelly coffee. The whole place reeks of chocolate covered cherry flavoring. Like Frankenstein's castle it seems by the time we get to the roasters, so tall some of them have custom built 4x4 staircases. We disrupt their world of sugary air waves, mug shot faces. Like the ones we see in the mail, and cubicle corners. Not to mention the coffee bean paintings that look like they belong in star wars. Exploding beans in space, a pile of eggs with one hatching a batch of roasted beans.

Jack makes a vacuum press for Ashton as they all have a laugh fest about Jack's ancestor explorer, some heavy Norwegian name. Maddy sends me a picture of some super thick americano from "Olympia Coffee Roastery". Ashton used to work at Thoughtstream. Danny knows his voice. "I love you", she says, non chalantly calls her short and cute as he refers to meeting Jack at Loco, Coffee shop in Playhouse Square. Tall Blonde guy instead of short cute girl. Laugh Laugh you know... I feel like a reporter writing on the inside of someone else's interview. Jerk yeah?

Now we're getting into talk of ESOP plans, employee ownership plans, to print or not to print. It's actually kind of awkward, busting in on this shining moment of print acknowledgment for them, saying as how I am not "a partner". Jack sends "write more of anything" as if he revels in this strange strange moment. But I see the magical proud looks on everybody's face and I get a little jealous in my lonely place. Did you know that coffee, more than wine, more than vanilla, is the most complex food in regards to the number of chemicals involved in the taste? About 700 chemicals.

February 2, 2012 Thursday

11 PM Home. I'm at this place. I need to come up with a name for my tape Kerry's doing for me. I'm completely stumped. Also I need a name for 2 more artists on the tape for "Chantilly Glaces" & "Millionth Jar". I figure that "Idea and the Modern" name is too linked with me, and would make it even more obvious. The race is also on now to make some proposals for murals at the Farm Head Tap & Brew restaurant. Some postcard/old travel poster looking stuff, and sayings. Very Portlandia. I mean Clevelandia. That's a stir. But I might be able to get a good chunk of change out of the projet. We'll see. Here's to getting paid to do a mural, for the first time! I'd really like to incorporate some styles reminiscent in a lot of mid century modern art paintings. Line drawings, some abstract, but I get the feeling Sally isn't into it. We'll see about that too.

With Maddy gone it's a little more quiet. I'm having a couple more me-and less distracted-centered days. I keep wanting to hang out with John Hurley, but I end up scaring myself out of it. I enjoy listening to the boy talk but sometimes he does lose me. And I just worry that it's a bad sign to have a crush on someone who can get on your nerves, it doesn't make a whole lot of sense. It's too bad, He had the past couple of days off. He hinted earlier about me driving him to this bank in Berea so he could close out an account so he could get his car fixed. I was too absorbed in a mid-day nap to assert myself to the offer. I felt bad, but I had only 2.5 hours of sleep before radio today. I went to see Henry DJ last night and it turned into a long one. It continued to the radio station until 4:30 am during Stan Frasier's show. I pulled a bunch of soundtracks and discovered to my dismay, that the station did not have "Afterburner" by ZZ Top in it's collection. I spun a couple of times, but nothing serious. A lot of Stan's magical mix-ups with youtube sensations, though nothing you might expect. Henry made this live in studio mix to send to some guy. Experimental electronics stuff. We talked a bit about The Gate & The Gate II of which he owns. Very nice! Gillian was also there. I really like Gillian. We always have things to talk about. Usually involving CAA High School. She graduated a couple years before I got there. She gives good advice and honest opinions. We talk about schools, film school, stuff like that. How Maddy might be going out to Olympia Washington to go to Evergreen in the fall. And today I got a jolt, a reality check. It could very likely happen, she messages me today, "Evergreen rules!" Pretty trees, good coffee, right off the 101. Does sound pretty nice. I wish I was there adventuring with her. She helped me pick out "Judy B" As my stupid pop star name for "Downtown".

February 1, 2012 Wednesday

1:30 AM - Amtrak station, helping mom pay for our train tickets to go see my dad. Seeing pictures of these passenger trains is enough to make me hyperventilate practically after the Amtrak related fiascos I've been through. That I ever saw Jeffrey Martinez again is just fucking odd.

10AM - Not usually around market square this time of day. But I'm sitting outside of Farm Head Tap & Brew waiting for Sally Swanson so we can further discuss a mural I could paint in the place. Funny the people I spot down here. Being a market day, it is busy. Ralph, Elijah's dad waves. I spot Murray Schwarz across the street. I got here a couple minutes early so I went into the Mediterranean Food store and purchased an orange San Pelegrino for later in a can. Don't want to worry about gripping a can while trying to talk to a professional.

 11PM - Happy Hound. Henry DJing. 2 weeks in a row is pretty good. Lots of electronic stuff tonight. Last week a huge mixture with a little ZZ Top thro

January 31, 2012 Tuesday

So Maddy fought her way into getting to keep her bottle of lotion it would seem. It's 5am. I'm driving home from the airport 71 north. Listening to "Dancing In The Dark" Bruce Springsteen and thinking of car battles involving Leo and thinking about how rapidly things can go from one thing to another, and how I'm so thankful and relieved that I can still be left with some shred of myself in tact, with some people or memories to hold onto, to remind me. What I love. People I've fallen in love with, some friends you can still walk to Steve's Lunch with. Man, well I know it's been Maddy for the longest I can remember of everyone. And since high school it's been Leo and Karl in and out of our lives in the words of Richard Dreyfuss "Like bus boys in and out of a restaurant". I guess I want a paradise for all of us. Will the tragedy of it be getting lost up in some corner of pop culture that somebody creates? That would be something. All I know is that I feel lucky. I don't know what I'm doing with myself right now, I don't have a job because I don't want certain things so much. I don't have a sustainable amount of money without one. The boy I'm in love with is very far away and is beyond reach in too many ways, but I'm still me. I'm still thinking about it all. And I know that there is so much to do and get done, and so many people to love who are worth loving, and I'm not tired yet. I just have to take deep breaths in the morning and always keep listening and creating things others can listen to. I can do that.

6pm - Where is John Hurley? We're supposed to ride to Lorain Antiques! Formerly Suite Lorain, to meet Monique and probably see Karl who now works there.

January 30, 2012 Monday

Steve's Lunch - Maddy's last meal. Coffee, coffee, coffee, coffee with cream, 1 egg with 3 sausage for Maddy. 2 plate of fries for Jake & Jennifer, with hot sauce.

Maddy with new eyebrows

John has the "Farmer's Skillet". "That man knows how to eat" says Karl. Good looking 2 eggs, bacon, green peppers, hash browns.

Jake & Chubby

On the jukebox, Outcast's "Hey Yah". The jukebox here will always play it in particular whether or not you want it to.  "Kokomo", Beach Boys sing-along. Some Elvis, Patsy Cline.

Maddy's playing devil's-advocate-douche-bag, animosity game with me all night. Lord knows why. I'm taking her to the airport at 4 am, and she decides to act like this.

I picked up maybe 4 or 5 Audrey Hepburn movies tonight at the Driftwood Library. "Paris When It Sizzles", "They All Laughed", "Wait Until Dark", "Two For The Road".

Chubby, Karl and I wait at the house for Jake to return and pick them up. Talking about how single each and every one of us is. It's okay, but it isn't. I'm afraid to let myself get involved with James Spader. Assuming there is something there, some kind of elementary school banter. He has me thinking because he has a lot on his mind. He talks a whole lot. We were up until 4 am last night in the kitchen talking ... or he was talking. I was mostly listening, he's a storyteller, that is for certain. Not many people I have ever met have been able to hold a conversation that's so much directed by them that keeps me interested. I'll wait until Maddy is ready to go. She showers. I'll let Audrey Hepburn and Albert Finney take me away in "Two For The Road". Stanley Donen!

January 29, 2012 Sunday

The taste of old french press that's sit over night in the kitchen w/milk and Downey's honey butter on multi grain toast could almost make me hurl right now.

Waking up at noon, still managed to do some work before too long passes. I've pulled out my guitar and used it, well not only played it but used it to record in years. It feels pretty good actually. To get the most of yourself sometimes. Not to mention it sounds a lot different than most of the other things I've recorded. The only one with guitar anytime recently. "Crystal Mind" the Twin Peaks one recorded with kawai drum machine Andy Wright let me borrow, that I will probably buy now. The Roland Juno 106 and the steinberger guitar and I'm happy. I feel confident about having Kerry Walton put it out on a tape for his little label "Teenage Waterway".

Late At Night - Monticello's Bowling Alley. Not sure where friends are. Path Cafe employee party. It's detached feeling not sure if I feel really much a part of it. Good to see friends. The DJ sucks big time. Playing some Pixies song right now. Nothing worth dancing to. I can't even pretend to be interested in talking to certain people, even as poor John Kidman sits and shows me his inversion formula he illustrated for purple rainbows. It just fell apart somewhere. My interest for most of the stuff I'm currently surrounded by. Boy the idea of being bitter really makes me sad. I don't know what it is. Impatience, feeling tired of some of these people's points of view, I'm feeling not - genuine anymore. Luke Danner gives me long hugs, saying he misses me, what I assume, and he only alludes to as a friend. Sorry we don't hang out. Connor fucking Haskell shows up out of nowhere with his girlfriend Katherine. I haven't seen him in 2 years or something, and that feels like a whole 'nother can of worms opened. Although it's not too much of a big deal. Some guy whose name I can't remember that I met at the bar washing dishes at Path says Hi and expresses genuine interest in being mingling buddies. Caitlin asks me how I'm liking "Just Kids", I can't tell her enough how I could not have found the book at a better time in my life. Feeling transient, terrified, excited, hurt, in love, inspired, hopeful, and curious and hungry, very hungry. Derek tells me more about him and his life outside of work being so revolving around his father on his death bed. I'm so sorry. Derek had got me into tears with him talking about just the same thing in The Path basement just before I drove down to Richmond at the beginning of the month. Tino says how he might be moving in with Adam and Sara when he comes back from taking Annetta to San Fran. News to me. I guess Adam and Sara will be looking for a house ... or are in fact. I wonder when that ball is officially going to drop. What oh, what shall we all do. I miss Leo and Claire. Bernard asks if I know how o keep a bowling score sheet. Monticello's is not electronic.

Luke Danner scoots next to me and puts his arm around me trying to engage in god knows what. He's very drunk. Jamie scoots up and talks to me very heavily. He might go with Theo Szafranski out to the Pacific Northwest and work on some fishing boat. Asks me about books I'm reading. He leaves. Goes into the dancing room and I follow a bit after. Lots of dancing. Maddy getting friendly with Cane Campbell maybe in response to Danner telling her that working in the kitchen with Cane, he learns that Campbell thinks she is beautiful. She looks happy. Monique hops on bartop run by Albert. I do something a bit uncharacteristic of me and order myself a shot of Petrone Tequila. Like I'm back at Aunt Jeana's in Downey. With a lime, and I drink it. You can barely taste it minus that first instant it hits your tongue. I don't know if it will do anything, didn't want to take in another and take the chance. And it's a good thing too because Albert asks me if I want to start a tab. I'm confused, he says it's the most expensive tequila they have. 6 dollars. Shit, I thought it was an open bar, under no usual circumstances do I order liquor, or any 6 dollar drink. Of course Albert, so sweet says don't worry about it. And I feel so stupid. Wide-eyed Monique "You had a shot?!" So I sit in this chair that would make a cool haircutting stool and think of how dumb that was and watch Monique make hideous faces as she takes photos of herself, Aria & Albert with a half-sucked-down lolly pop. I change rooms back to bowling alley and do what I've been trying really hard not to do, call, James Spader. I mean, John Hurley. I think he might come here. Lord.

Nice young man with shoulder length hair and a foreign accent and a bad baggy red shirt with some kind of skull print on it sweetly asks if I'm having fun in a concerned way. It's hard to hear with the noise. Says it doesn't look like I'm having fun. He works here. Says he's having fun getting to walk around and pick up garbage because he usually works with machines all night. I asked his name, it was Brian. Says he likes to write lyrics. I wonder where he is from. The other day, walking to find 1701 Fulton, see where this neat apartment was located. Walking past it and behind it I noticed a young man deeply absorbed in his Iphone walking behind me. I was a little spooked for no reason too too legitimate. But behind the hospital on 28th he was right behind me, I turned to see, hearing somebody, and he asks "Are you lost?". I explained silly about wanting to see the apartment and such things I learned innocently enough that his name was Seran, and he was a senior at St. Ignatius High School just around the corner. And of course, his appearance was just that. Beanie cap, keys on lanyard around neck, attention span of some abandon. He didn't want to leave school at the end and not know anything about the neighborhood and that's why he was walking. I remembered how Leo and I used to walk around like that, when he got out of school. He followed me to Thumper Vintage even. He stayed there until he had to drive himself home to Westlake.

Brian stops again. Not foreign, but grew up in Indiana, Portage, 15 minutes from Gary. With a Whelsh grandfather that didn't speak English, and other foreign family. He lived in Florida for a year with his mother and brother with no phones or internet, so he wrote. And he wrote lyrics. He's lived here for 6 months. He used to breakdance back in Indiana.

Maddy likes Cane's "Duck". "It's a Mallard" he says. I don't know what that means.

January 28, Saturday

KMX Staff Meeting - I guess there's a bit of campus violence going on. Soon we will be alone in the building. Colleen is not here yet, probably reason why Alan is not here as well. No Alvin Granger. No cereal bar. Finkle and I are pretty hungry. But that is why Colleen ain't here.

                                                                       
                                                                        Karl Finkle

-- Not an autoflush urinal, men. I love Jukebox Billy. There certainly are a lot of metal shows.

March 3 - noon - Saturday  next music refilling
Feb 25th Saturday Mail reminder

I just want to go to Cinemateer

Program@KMX.org - email when getting show covered

Food is ere. Mike Manilow goes on about how not to play mp3s or youtube videos.

There's a soft humming of a child ghost or something. Banquet hall, 3rd floor, Franklin tower. Colleen is woman! In green, evergreen KMX hoodie. I don't think she'll be station manager too much longer. It's a shame too. The station probably won't be half as fun. I am so hungry. Karl, Maddy, Jake, Jennifer ( who also lives in Franklin tower), Chubby, Andy Goldman and I watched "Bridesmaids" and in relevance to our current situation "Is that a bear sandwich over there?" asks Karl, he disappears in the line.

6:45 - Spent a couple of hours working on recording a new track. "He's Coming" demo title, should probably work on that one. Too many people out there with their minds like us. It's that Twin Peaks, Laura Palmer inspired song. So long ago, jotting that down on a Cedar Lawn receipt paper while on the job. Maddy tells me she's making dinner. By the time I come out not too long after, she's in this horrible mood. Like the one she was in leaving Steve's Lunch. Snapping at me. I'm afraid to open my mouth when she gets like that. She's throwing away neat looking clothes. Some delicate white bead and sequined gown she cut short. I suggested she just hem it. "I'll never do it" being so angry I'm recovering them from the garbage can tells me I have too much shit. It's very true. But at this point, who gives a shit? I don't like to see neat things meet their end. I'll rescue it, make it happening again. I believe it can be. I don't get it, what makes her so mad.

Tonya's car, gas station, 11:35pm, Tristkett & 117th, the "food center" sign changes color. "I'm glad we have technology for that" says Maddy. She didn't steal vitamins tonight at the self check out in Giant Tiger "Pleasure Dome". We got burritos on her food stamps. "Does Nature's Basket have little travel sizes of shampoos and stuff? I need to get a razor to #@@%^##" Maddy so.

Before bed I remember. He's been in my dreams often lately. Last night it was the most soft and comforting. I think we were worried about something.  But the most calming dream. Jackie. There was some haunted house involved.

January 27, 2012 Friday

Family Services, food stamps office. Afternoon. I don't know if I should be here, but I don't really know much of anything for sure, so I guess that will be it. I try and comfort myself with thoughts that those in need who qualify will get food stamps if they apply. I hope that is the case anyway. I'll be honest, I don't have a job you could say. If I get one, or if I do return, I will, woul mail in my change in income. I don't like the idea of using anyone. Even "The System" if it means ruining chances for others who deserve it more than I do.

Looking at woman exiting I observe how she moves, looks, looks behind her as she walks past the room. She works here. I see her dangling little ball earrings, her frock length coat with tiny belt. The very free spirited casual way she's pulled up her hair above the neck. Holding her coffee mug. It's about how I would picture a mid to late 20s social worker dressing. I wonder what it was like for her trying to get that job. Was she once the same as Maddy and I? Maybe she knew exactly what she wanted and who she was and finished high school early. Or maybe she was a drop out, a rebel, who earned her GED at night school and because she was so empathetic and observant of our culture and people, thought she would try and take the weight of the world onto her own shoulders. What a lady!

At Steve's Lunch, Maddy and I sit writing in our respective handwritings. She's started using the dark tan "Campus" notebook I gave her of the ones I got at Mitsuwa. A nice guy on a bicycle holds up a pair of eye glasses in 2 fingers on the street looking into the big window concerned. Absorbed, I see everyone look outside and Maddy with another gets the attention of the gentlemen in the long wool P coat "Someone..." the baggy clothed guy on bike with reusable shopping bags on his handlebars is at the door, P coat guyu opens door and the exchange is made. He dropped them getting out of the car "Bless you," "Thank you." "No, bless you sir." People are really good to each other sometimes.

Just coffee and apple pie, no heavy white food today. George gave me 50 dollars last night. I was floored. So nice of him. A full nights earning usually.

Midnight Times - Slipknot sing along at Karl's house on 85th. Looks like a bungalow house that's caving in on itself. Old green carpet. We're going to watch "Bridesmaids". I miss Shelby. Jake's snickers is in two pieces. One falls on the green carpet.

January 26, 2012 Thursday

Afternoon Time - Looking up at my bedroom in it's chaos. The kawai drum machine Andy Wright is letting me take for a test try he's asking 20 dollars for. Copying another of my double tape mixes. Still need to get one in the mail to Count Wood Wolf, odd dude but perhaps, just misunderstood.

George Ding sprung on me the chance to assist him with loading and unloading his DJ set up to this design firm tonight. He's Djing for a pretty long time and it's some office party, so I'm not really wanting to go, but George's feeling sick after our bike ride downtown and I feel bad. He said he'd even pay me a little bit, but I feel a bit bad doing it that way. Still no leads on a work that will put me in a good spot again. Maybe I really should go sniff around Farm Head Tap and Brew again. Don't know why she stopped trying to work with me. I don't know if they had anything done. I need to get out on foot and scout. It's just hard in t his rain. It's better than sitting here yelling at Moon Child  to stop scratching my records, napping after radio shows eating lousy food. I need to start recording again, I have to get my keys and drum machine back from Alan & Hank. I shouldn't have loaned them out, just giving myself more excuses to not accomplish the things I would like to. And that's trouble.

6pm - Some building, warehouse on E.36th & perhaps near Asiatown or in Asiatown more like. Around the corner from Spin Dial in fact. George's got me here to assist. Helped him load his car at home, and unload here at the spot. Some design studio. White painted brick, gray painted floor with a giant white circle that will layout George's dance floor. Will I dance? We will see. Danita is teh woman's name throwing the party for her coworkers/clients, biggest client would appear to be Lilly's Ice Cream/ There's a big sleek white coffee table in front of me. It's square and has a giant glass serving bowl piled high with oranges. Maybe they're clementines. It's the perfect set-up for their little design firm. Ikea LP shelves full of good reference materials, a large floating mounted dry wall covered in tacked drawings and photoshop prints, Mac desktops, big windows, and odd hngings of rope lined with day-glo quilted towels. Would not have been a decor choise I would have made. Reminds me of those "sweaters" people knit for parking meters and trees. The rule is out on when George will actually play. There's a nice spread of wines, pretzels, sesame snacks, cheeses, even a barrel with non-alcoholic drinks, ginger ale, orange soda, and juice boxes from Trader Joes. I wonder if they're expecting kids, I knew they weren't expecting me.

Drove George's car down the street to grab some soup for George and I at "Phuket Thai" Oddly enough, Maddy and I came here once in high school or that summer and there was some misunderstanding about the price of food. Some fiasco. The place is slow. One couple and a group of 3 giggling ladies, I bet they're old friends. Somebody else comes in to dine alone. But he knows the server girl and they hug.

I leave George talking about the strangity of the weather we've been having. Dry, cold, little snow and now all of this rain. How Seattle had a snow storm in the last week. Some extreme weathers for everybody. Freaks George out a little bit, I don't know what to think. The 2012 shit, talked to mom the other night about it. She doesn't think too much on it she claims, but she brought up some curious things. I'd never before heard of the Nazca land drawings. Huge hills in the shape of robot men, spiders, horses. Mom exclaims "How could they build these things without seeing them from the sky?" I say maybe their building methods and cartography by assistance of astronomy helped. She thinks maybe visitors came and drew them for landing spots.

1. Dancing is not for clutching your beer or wine spritzer at the same time. I say no. Slap it out of your hand.

2. Is grandpa hooking sonny around waistband and dancing to Rupert Holmes "If You Like Pina Coladas" cute or weird?

3. Free leg warmers at the end of the night. So... that's what it's all about. Charming. I want kids to play with, but I'm not convinced whether or not I would be looked at as a creeper for picking up one by the arms and swinging them around. So swingable.

Dance party for kids

Mom also talked about Easter Island. How did those statues get there? Were they meant to welcome something or scare them away? She thinks they're pretty foreboding. They are pretty creepy. But what if they are depictions of some visitors who came? Aliens who look like the statues on Easter Island? Then Maddy brings up that documentary she saw last year at the film festival, "Into Eternity" about some group in the Norwegian mountains trying to figure out what kind of signage they could create to warn people or other life forms however many thousands of years into the future to stay away from nuclear waste buried in the caves that is being stored. What if the civilization at Easter Island built these statues as a warning to protect us?

The ladies room in this place is neato. Looking all untouched from maybe the 1960s, minus the automatic flushers. Even has a shower. All tile, even on the walls. A full length mirror with face mirrors, it's own little nook, with a strip of plugs. I can just picture women getting ready for work, etc. at the beginning of their day. I do kind of feel like a moody teenager as now and then a party goer, curious walks into the darkened break room and passes me at the table with this notebook, even as the yellow streetlamp shines through those great old windows. The room glows. The Pepsi machine has little soda cards with logos that haven't been changed since the 90s, and the neon light fixtures are really cool. If I laid on the floor, they'd look like this. I wonder what's in the fridge.

4. George is sick, get him a ginger ale. I love how there is an unspoken cooperation, everyone finishing off abandoned half full cans!

10:30 - People are dancing now. For the love of god just wear the leg warmers on your legs where they belong. I'm fading in Nelly's "It's Getting Hot In Here" for George while he finds a place to piss. For being a design firm holiday party, there sure are some awful dressers. It's like somebody let John Carroll design a fashion collection. The place where muffin tops run free and bad sweater vests are signs of merit. At least the music is good. Janet Jackson's "Nasty". Geez I don't know what some of these people would do without Great Lakes Brewing Company. Who am I going back and forth between Miss Patti Smith's book, ginger ale and notebook. A couch potato.

It's raining good and heavy. I'm thinking about the person in the sleeping bag under the gazebo outside George's apartment in the flats. I worry about them. What is that person afraid of I wonder?

January 25, 2012 Wednesday

On the streets. Waiting with my bike outside Kinko's on E.9th st downtown for George Ding to print some fliers for some DJ gig on February 12. Gonna get some coffee. George's hands get really cold easily. It's not very cold. I can see my breath, but no snow. Just some dry coldness. I wonder how Leo and Claire are. Lookking at tall buildings here I think of The Avengers movie setting up shop in this very spot. Making E.9th into New York City. Really funny. I wonder what the two of them are doing. Next time we see Leo, he'll probably be apart of Bjork's entourage.


Later I have a date of some kind with Maxine Rockell and gonna go hear Henry spin kraut/psych records in the Happy Hound basement. Looks like that will be me again on February 29th. I miss San Francisco. Should I talk to Jeff Lewis? I've made it so intensely weird by letting it go this long not speaking to him. He said he wanted to know me forever and that we would both be famous.

Raven E.9th - So. Babysitter's Club, but for DJs. George and I talk about clever ideas. How they make such a difference in the production of a dance floor. Multiple copies, blown up of one single image, a pretty girl in his case. Minimal components to maximum effect.

January 24, 2012 Tuesday

Some days, most days it's hard to get out of bed without a schedule based on a clock. You wake up and realize it's almost noon so you at least go to the kitchen. Maddy's making a french press, finish the kefir in the fridge, snacks on a stale something we took Amber on Friday. Maddy and I tell each other about the dreams we both had, we do this a lot, kitchen noon talks about dreams of little validity. Hers involves some Arabic kid she's been messing around with in his boxers, swinging down to a car with a lady in it. He opens her door and starts pressing buttons in her "fancy" car only wanting to know whether or not she is Arabic. But some men show up and take him away. My dream evolved or devolved in 3 parts. First I was in some brick loft type building, Danny from Path was there, and we were with my family. Some of them anyway. At one point I was in the hallway wearing headphones or something. The hallway is very wide and Grandma Michiko looking a bit younger than she is, is moving elegantly She's doing some kind of interpretive dance. I sneak off part of the headphones and she is singing very oddly. Only some melodious bursts of sound. Like a museum exhibit, the light is so white in such an empty hallway. Then from far down a door opens and it's some guy called Doc. I know in real time my Grandparents had a friend named Doc. He died though and this guy wasn't the same. Looked younger, not too much. Sort of like Mr. England... also dead. He's smiling and walking down. I go back into the apartment. Aunt Molly sees me set down some dishes and tells me to clean them. I almost get defensive but I soap the sponge and get to it. I clean those, but just decide to clean the other dishes in the sink. I have a pint glass half filled with coke or some brown liquid I'm still drinking sitting in the sink. And I think there's a television set playing a movie behind me. Like a western or some sort. But at the same time it's a family movie because the people are watching behind me, but facing me instead and interacting with the film talking about themselves being in it. Danny comes up beside me, handing me dishes and asks me smiling if I'm going to go back to The Path and I say "I'm not feeling too good right now." Now I'm blocking the view of television, I apologize and take my brown liquid filled glass and set it on a wall shelf so they can watch it through the reflection on the glass. Hilarity breaks out as in comes Doc, Grandma and people surround riffing off the TV. He says something about how he used to be 17 once and how old people were having kids back then, that is he old enough to be grandma Michiko's dad. " I was seventeen once" they are lit by the television on screen.

 Then I'm in some department store, first floor on W.25th St. that doesn't exist. It's unorganized and random like a vintage or thrift store. I'm looking for a blue dress for the prom outside. None. I want something like "Roman Holiday" and the shop ladies groan. Nothing. They even hold up some kind of collectors doll on a stand with a blue dress on. Not in a mocking way. The interior is something like shelves, wooden shelves built into walls. And the walls are green felt. I'm looking, looking but not finding. I even put on a pink dress of mesh material over my clothes. Andy Wright appears helping a bus filled with music equipment unload. He asks me if I wanted to go with him to the prom. Before I can even answer he starts getting defensive and saying something like he could take out a girl like me. I tell him I'm already going with somebody and I don't know whether or not it's true. He goes back to unloading. I go outside and it's snowing. The place is deserted though. Some kids on bikes, cyclists, critical mass types show up and say "Party's moved down there" they point. 25th St. now has a flora median. That's it. I don't know where they're going.

It's some kind of resort hotel and it's New Years Eve. There's something going on on the first floor by the pool. Two giant masses square in shape made of wooden folding chairs are moving into the room. For every chair there is a girl sitting/laying in it and moving her feet. Something dirty is about to happen to two of these girls so I'm writing a warning down on rubber bands to give them, all of the sudden I'm in an underground club and Marilyn Manson and his transsexual girlfriend are coming up to me. Like Camille , the tranny from the Chicago show on Saturday. She kept telling me how much she liked my outfit after she made me open my trench coat. I looked like I was going to a screening of Rocky Horror Picture Show. Manson asked what the rubber bands were for. Underground, I could not help the girls being molested on the roof. All I could think was, what the hell. I just celebrated New Years Eve.

January 23, 2012 Monday

Sitting in the back middle seat. I eat some of the Starbuck's "old fashioned donut", a cruler I believe you would call it. Passing the Ohio state line from Indiana. It's raining, overcast moody skies. And I feel really comforted by words from Patti Smith's memoire. And the voice from Hank's podcast breaking through "You captured what it was like to be young at that time." It means something to hear those words be said to anybody. Right now, ignoring youth for someone else at some other time, I feel that it's really hard to find a direction. Especially when the world we live in is constantly trying to sell us things that will practically make decisions for us, and society these days condones that, believes in it. Separating us from each other, but I do not believe in it. I believe in this : turning in rental cars late, eating donuts, getting motion sickness, and watching Maddy pick away at her split ends. For moments like this I do not worry. I'm happy to be where I am, and doing what I'm doing, and I have faith in my ideas and feel supported by the universe. I feel right.

6pm - Chipotle with Maddy. First meal of the day, not counting donut. The burrito was actually breaking out of it's tortilla. So full, and I managed to eat all of it. Therapy and regression to more animalistic temperaments after being basically robbed at gunpoint for an additional 200 dollars of which still does not add up for being multiple hours late to return the fucking rental car. Charged a whole extra day.

9pm - Gunter cat groans and hisses at Maddy in her arms. Carmody plays on my stereo. I'm glad this pink long-sleeved undershirt of grandma Michiko still smells like moth balls. It reminds me of her. I tried to do my make-up when we came home, referencing the Misfits photo of Marilyn Monroe, postcards of Audrey Hepburn, pictures of Liv Tyler in "That Thing You Do". I've never from what I can remember applied make up in any practical measure. Always over the top in different colors and shapes and designs for silly occasions. I suppose I first experimented with black eye liner on my baby fat face back in junior high for Friday night casual canteens here and there. Was trying to see if I could make myself look pretty or something. Pretty like these women look pretty in their mod-ish eye make-up styles. But it looks too odd on me. Nothing I'm not used to.

Tomorrow, I'm trying to go up to 25th St, Thumper Vintage, see if her seamstress is working. Might be too fantastical but I wanted to maybe see if she would be willing to let me apprentice her or something, show her some of the jumpsuits I've made. I need to sit online and comb through some adds, maybe put out there that I'm looking for mural work, try and create some kind of online portfolio.

January 22, 2012 Sunday

Good morning/afternoon from Logan Square. Calvin, drummer from Bad Trip set us up with a place to stay. I slept on the way here from the spot so no real picture of where we are at. Nice apartment. Lots of painting stuff. Drafting table, nice wall decor, Pacific Northwest looking cave art looking perfect cubed record shelving. I envy that of some of these guys. Last night we are greeted on the back porch by a withered statue of a sitting milk maid. Sam screams. This thing had to have come from some role playing colonial park or something like Hale Farm and Village. "I wish I wouldn't have seen that" says Sam. He falls asleep with a labrador in his arms.

Alan shows us a fan artist rendering of E.T. sitting at the dinner table with a case of Miller High Life. There's a Sun Ra record on. "Call me, my namber is 555-7229" Calvin and his lady make food and biscuits. "E.T. , next time you're in my neighborhood, E.T. phone me!"

Bye Bye Logan, we pass Lane Tech, 1908 - 2008. "I wish I could have been raped in the showers in a place like that as a kid."... says nameless bandmate. On our way to the musicians exchange. Chicago Music Exchange. Grab bits at New Wave Coffee. Croissants at La Boulangerie. Of course, lots of raunchy mom and Benny jokes.

January 21, 2012 Saturday

2:30 am - Just watched "Roman Holiday" with Audrey Hepburn and Gregory Peck. So lovely. Gosh can one describe Audrey Hepburn as anything but lovely? The picture of sweetness. Total charisma. The film is ultimately bitter sweet. How a princess really can't have the freedom to live life, her life the way she wishes to. What tragic circumstances. Yes, a lifetime of security. But what is life without freedom to live it?

Maddy and I visited Amber Brockovich at her home tonight. Took her some chocolate croissants and sugar cookies we baked ourselves. She had surgery on her bladder yesterday. Taking samples to test. Poor Amber, she's all hurt up inside there. I hope they figure out how to help her. It always feels good to talk with Amber. Amber is smart and lovely and loving. She has her head on straighter than most people I know. I like having somebody so real in my life. She's one of the few people I have around that doesn't make me feel like a total looney.

So much snow fell tonight. I hope we'll get to Chicago alright. Wow, I didn't talk to dad today. First since I came home. I hope he's doing alright. I really miss him. I hope he's taking care of himself. Chicago will be fun I hope. Playing a place called "The Batter House", some kind of warehouse spot. Hey, Maddy is coming with us! Crazy talk! I hope that all goes smoothly. Alan and Hank were good with the idea, suppose that's the hardest part. I hope I can keep myself relaxed and all. Sometimes she just gives me bits of anxiety on longer car trips, no thanks to our checkered traveling past. But this could be great, as long as she's alright just going along for the ride. We have to rent a car this time. Gavin's van is in a repair shop. We don't make any real survivor dollars for the band, but we use the band money to pay for expenses on our trips, it's nice to take that step away, to be able to be treated a couple days by the expenses your artistic endeavors have earned you. Whether it's a smoked trout sandwich in Philadelphia for me or an 8 ball in Minneapolis for them. What can you say?

3:54 pm - En route to Chicago. Maddy in middle looking like disco queen in satin track jacket she got from Vancouver Duncan. Just stopped at Plaza, everyone got a bagel but Alan. Hank gets sour dough and hummus. Maddy gets asiago cheese bagel with garden veggie hummus. Sam gets BLT bagel with avocado. Me, I get everything bagel with cream cheese plain. Alan throws a banana peel out the window, but not before passing out and back into Sam's smoking window a couple times, nanner' juice smeared on the window. Thank goodness we bought the extra coverage for the rental car, GMC, Yukon SUV. O'Doyle Rules! Right before Sandusky we see factory emissions in the distance. All steam. This is where clouds are made.

Maddy thinks with how arm she is with the Hank Slanket and window down up front for Hank's smoke it feels like it could be a nice spring day, don't forget our little pocket of sun of course. Started reading Patti Smith's book "Just Kids". I get through a good bit here in the car before I start getting ill in head and stomach. It's nice having Maddy here. My kindred spirit. Somebody to talk to without saying anything at all. When so many words fall on the deaf hears of my bandmates. Whether or not they ring of some importance to our band. It's a strange dynamic, feeling ignored by people with whom your supposed to share a common vision. Maddy next to me, open notebook, drawing her vision of the windshield with all things inside of it. My sugary watery iced-coffee in between my legs. The notebook has a serious dent in the bottom corner now after it fell off the counter at the Hertz Rent-A-Car desk. Sam is asleep. Hank is driving. Alan is reading a David Copperfield hard-cover using a Kandinsky postcard for a bookmark.

D Street for nachos and beer. Some main drag. Windows are very dark, you can't really see in from the sidewalk. So much of entering a new city in a car is driving around like an asshole, unless you're by yourself. Skeleton art on the walls seems like a semi-hispanic decor and inspired menu.

The cassette paper insert for Simply Red's "Picture Book" is my bookmark.

Hey ... it's Alan

January 20, 2012 Friday

"I told you she was cool, but you were like no, no, no..." goes Maddy and Karl at the table over coffee. Some girl Abby Century. Josh Goldman " I think there's so many parallels between 1920s hot jazz and free jazz. " Finkle territory. Sorta gossip time. Shayne Drewery has bootleg Cluster records. " Is my maddymariekillian.com lame?" Maddy will read her college essay.

4:30 Stop at Jo Jos, when Damon, Maddy's Co-worker yells out the door that he'll sell her black labels for 2 dollars. I sit here hungry with no beer. It's really quiet accept for the Sex Pistols' "Pretty Vacant" blaring from the kitchen. Now Jane's Addiction... WOOF.

This guy right next to us sitting with his Genesee in a can on a black napkin with dainty little espresso cup by it's side here in Jo Jos is almost too much for me to handle. Oh, I guess it's one of Fabio Lion King's buddies. He cut his hair by the way.

January 18, 2012 Wednesday

The A.M.s, at Granger's. Maddy him and I watching Dennis Hopper movie, "Let It Rock". German original title "White Star". A little nonsensical but I guess D. Hopper was on a lot of coke at the time. Good synth soundtrack. It's dark in here.

We came here to watch "Suburbia". Penelope-what's-her-face-who-wrote-and-directed-Wayne's-World's punk film. Begins with some baby getting mauled by a Rottweiler or some vicious dog. Ends with a little boy being hit by a car on his big wheel. Vicious. There's a wizard in the corner lit red by
Granger's lava lamp.

Home-sweet-mold. I worry about our house. Whether or not the place is rotting while we live in it. You can smell something just a little mildewy about the place when you walk in our front door.

11:40 am - Metrohealth clinic. Here for afollow up appointment to the financial aid appointment I had here back in July. Jam brought me here then, he had just returned from Germany, we followed it up with grabbing Maddy and taking her to an Arby's. I was also into Robbin Mulvaney at the time. Now I'm here. Brought myself into somebody different. No Jam to pick me up. A pause in income.

9pm Happy Hound, playlist

Don't Be Cruel - Bobby Brown
Bad Connection - Yazoo
Sailor - Tredje Mannen
Being Boiled - Human League

Nobody here. It will take a bit I'm sure. "Bedazzled" Stanley Donen's plays from the projector. I'm saving bigger jams for when more folks in all wishful thinking show up.

Claustrofobian - Typical Me
TV Playtime - Silicon Teens
Breakout - Swing Out Sister -- Angel likes!
Murder of Love - Propoganda
Touch - Secession
From Here To Eternity - Giorgio Moroder
What Else Is There? - Royskopp
Tarantula Scream - Iron Curtain -- great to performance scene in Bedazzled
The Staircase - X & O
Lycklig - Royalty
The Perfect Way - Scritti Politti
Vamos A La Playa - Righiera
Jogging - Yelle
Ain't Nobody - Chaka Khan
The Duel - Giorgio Moroder
Eyes Scream - Tanit
Desire To Desire - In Trance 95
Metamorphose - Bal Pare
Spend a Little Time - Hemyl
Fire - Ruins
Mothers of Rain - Tangerine Dream
Rain - Madonna

Man... This place is deadish. Clear as a fart. Henry, James Spader, Maddy, Granger.

Man In Motion - John Parr
Serious - Gwen Stefani
Hide & Seek - Five Star
Beat of The Drum Mix - TFF
Breaking Out Of Prison - Sparks
Moving By You - Trisomie 21
Just Good Friends - Michael Jackson
Street People - Fox Fire
Herrens Svar - Glenn Winter
Pas Min Resa - Santiago De Gil
Aliens Theme II
Popsicle - New Kids On The Block
Winston & Julia - Polyphonic Size
Ain't Nothing Goin On
Rebel - Giorgia Fiorio
Blurred - Turquoise Days
Trauma Mit Mir - Grauzone
We Share Our Mothers Health - The Knife

John (James Spader) is pretty content it would seem to give me funny looks and sit drawing holes on the hot dog topping list.

Ich Und Du - Grauzone
I'm An Agent - Gary Numan
Colour My Love - Fun Fun
The Professionals - The Fabulous Stains
Dreams Never End - New Order
I Feel Love - Donna Summer
Quantum Leap - John Maus
And The Rain - John Maus
Mr. Vain - Culture Beat
Rhythm Of The Night - Corona
Who Do You Think You Are - Spice Girls
Rhythm Is A Dancer - Snap!

January 17, 2012 Tuesday

2:13 am - It's this strange but familiar feeling. I haven't felt it in a long time. I feel a little nauseated. I'm feeling really homesick for dad. Just to be in the sam room. I feel really plugged in to something that I can't describe. We don't have to talk to each other. His face is so deep I can hardly take it. I miss him. Talking about anything, the sight of him eating a Denny's skillet, drinking a coke, trying to sleep, caring about friends or anyone he loves. Sometimes I feel like he is my twin. I hope he is alright. Probably sleeping right now, surrounded on all sides by cats, Zowie, Blacky, and Blue. I miss you dad. Goodnight.

4:30 pm - Maddy at Path Cafe.

Maddy is worried about not having a place to stay in Seattle. Lots of options in Olympia, WA. Not so many in Seattle. Sounds like Lavender might flake. So perhaps she'll spend more days in Olympia. Instead I'm telling her she should get Jackie and Layne to do some kind of DJ set in Olympia while she's there.

Collected bank at The Path. Enough money I guess. Better than nothing to replace my Los Angeles bender.