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.
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