things to do:



call dave

call dude from Chapt. 11

get some alcohol

work on story



my life as it is.



today was pretty much wasted - supposed to practice today, but i overslept. much to my chagrin. at least dave had cancelled. i called emily at two, supposedly so we could get together, but no contact. so i was aimless for a couple of hours until mom took me to UC, so i could burn some CDs, and then went to the buzz.

and then my day counted, because i wrote. eight more pages to Seven Virgins, i'm 3/4 of the way through the first draft. (it's the morning after, and Eliza M. has the gun. Snooker is smiling and smoking a cig).



taylor is to try out as singer for the band thursday. look forward to that. she and i are also attempting to get together an X-ray Spex tribute band. sean said he'd do sax if we couldn't find anyone else. all we need is a drummer.



bekki is coming this weekend. shall be fun. and maybe i'll get together with allison, too. she and i went thrifting yesterday, and i got a cordouroy jacket, and a smith corona typewriter in perfect condition (a total of $6). she got some purple shorts and a turntable. good times.

I have an undying love for Elvis Costello.

yesterday was olivia's and mom's birthday (olivia:14, mom:46). olivia asked her best friend (and dave's girlfriend) emmy to spend the night, and around 11:30 as i was going to go to bed, olivia pokes her head in and says "raaaaaaaaaafe? we need someone to play hearts with us." so eight hours later we're walking through the park, we've not slept all night, and olivia does her first illegal thing of her veritable teenage-hood: i helped her trespass (emmy waited) onto the roof of the high-school's pump building to watch the sun rise over the Procter and Gamble factories...and then i'm cooking - "vou voudrais un omlette du fromage?" to emmy - olivia wants cofffe and me, i'm for egg on toast with some sausage and black (blackest) coffee. and the cinnamon rolls that we made. and then we sat on the side porch and talked. they mocked my voice, which gets very low in the mornings. good times, good times.

i'm dedicating my life to writing short stories and making lo-fi depression music. and that way i'll never have to leave my room. i can just stay in here, and slide the manuscripts under the door. once a week someone can come and leave some food and cigarettes and alcohol. and every so often, typewriter ribbons and guitar strings.



you know that feeling you get when you realize there's a pretty good chance you fucked up your life? i've been like that for a week. i can't pinpoint what. or maybe i can and i don't want to say. ever think of that, sweetheart?



something that feels like love: benadryl. blurs your vision, makes you woozy, and you feel like your floating.



the irony.

for you, dear. i know you're reading.



Gemini: (May 21—June 21)

Venus is descending in your sign this week, but you're better off not knowing exactly what that means.





From The Onion. if you don't know about it, www.theonion.com.

today was good. taylor came over, and we we recorded some stuff. it was a total loss, but it was good experience.

after taylor went home i recorded Emily again. it came out nicely - i need to re-record the vocals though. they got fuzzy cause i was singing so loud. i can sing in key now, at least. i may sound like billy corgan, but at least i'm in fuckin' key.

gearing up for the party wednesday. cause tuesday is band practice, and i will have no free time. allison is coming over to play violin for us. it'll be fun.
the party is at bekki's, and the theme is euro-trash. i'm going dolled up in my tightest jeans, a turtleneck, and ray bans. a ponytail, of course. ania is dressing up as well, quite shocking, i hear. i'm looking forward to it. she can do the ubersexy shimmy on the dance floor as i spin eurosnob musica. the perfect picture of post-yuppy bliss, that.

rock my socks. all. the. way. off.

what the fuck am i doing wrong? ania fucking ruins my day.



aaa.



today i got a mic for the four track, set it up, etc.



went out with allison and tim and daniel. we met up with todd, and he drove us down to french Park, where we went to the train tracks and got drunk in an abandoned caboose (except for todd cause he was driving). it wasn't bad. i wasn't intending to get drunk, but i didn't wait long enough between shots.



a train went by as i was standing by the tracks with tim and allison, and it was amazing, seeing it flash by at sixty miles an hour four feet away.



there was a backhoe on a flatbed car next to the caboose, and i took an abandoned hammer and knocked out the front windshield and then i went inside and kicked out all the other windows. it felt good being active. i cut my left hand but didn't feel it until the alcohol wore off.



we went back to tim's and hung out after that. the alcohol wore off eventually.



it was fun, even though i didn't intend on getting drunk and don't normally like it. i guess it's just the fact that all the other times it's been late and night and i've been depressed.



i need a cigarette.

so, dave's disappeared...we (being me and taylor) couldn't find him anywhere. went to his house, and no one was there, jackie (the dog) wasn't in the kennel (she's supposed to be put up when the house is empty), the beds were unmade, the door was unlocked. hope nothing happened to that.



taylor and i jammed without dave (he's never late, too)...we co-wrote a new song that really rocks. the more time i hang out with taylor, the more i like him. he's a good kid.



i went to the buzz an, allison, emily, liz, and tim were there. emily was toying with me: physical stuff. i played with it, kept telling myself i wasn't serious. but i still felt guilty afterwards. "my girlfriend wouldn't approve," i said to her, head on her stomach. she wouldn't, i don't think. i miss ania.



friday night, i'm supposed to go to a show with katie b. should be fun. saturday night, i'm going drinking with allison and tim, which means i'll have a couple of shots, and they'll get tanked and do the bad thing while i wander around semi-depressed. hah, but it'll be fun.



that's it for now.

it rained and rained and rained today.



it's dark, has been all day.



gramma, she's kind of addled, and she took a nap around four, and when she woke up, she kept asking us if it was 7:30 in the morning, or at night. she asked mom first, but she doesn't trust mom, so she asked her again, and then she asked me.



i don't think i looked up from my cards, just sort of flicked my eyes up and across to mom, and then i turned my head but kept my eyes on my hand, and said, "at night, gramma."



"oh," she said, and hugged herself tighter. she's so small, she's wasting away. she's four foot ten, even olivia is taller than her now. olivia and dad had gone to the movies, and mom and i were playing cards on a rainy day.



mom and i kept playing rummy, there in the dining room. gramma just sat there in the doorway to the kitchen, and then she shuffled off in her lime green (worn thin) gown and put some frozen waffles in the toaster.



i keep telling everyone i'm building the next ark, but no one believes me.

things are great.



i had a wonderful day, rock n roll and then chess and then i talked to the woman i love.



yeah, i know i'm a sap...



the band (the one i'm in with dave) might possibly have a permanent bassist. his names taylor, he seems like a good kid. he's a good bassist and guitarist, and he's got a kickass 'fro... i mean, do we even have a choice? he's in the band. i'm happy.



the only thing that could have made it better would be if i had her to come home to.



my song, not just my favorite or whatever, but my song is the clash - the card cheat.

so katie says to me: "the way you lead your life makes it interesting; you should get to do the talking once in a while."



and what do i say?



"my life. in of itself. isn't that interesting: suburban kid goes to school, to the hangout, plays guitar, chases girls. pretty typical.

it's just the people i know, they're way more interesting than i am. it just so happens that i'm yr gateway, yr peephole, into these other peoples lives

and that's why people think they find me interesting."



so blow me away, sweetheart.



***



in an unrelated incident, things went relatively well at the color test tryouts. they seem like a good bunch of guys and i think i made a good impression. even if they are ten years older than me. i'll find out tomorrow or so if i made it in or not.

i think that even if i don't get the job, i'll be doing something with/for them. and my ears are still ringing, i love my job. rock n roll, kids. rock n fuckin' roll.



***



i'm in love, dammit; i'm in love but it feels like a loss.

she's got me reading ee cummings now. not too bad, that old man, i write dead on like him, prose wise. my poetry will never be that good.



saturday. i see ania for the first time in six months. this is going to be the second fucking coming, or it's gonna be the end of the fucking world. either way i'm gonna end up with a nice girl. oh yeah, the life of motherfucking riley.



note that i'm regaining my taste for the adjectives "fucking" and "motherfucker!" good to have you back, guys.



tomorrow i go to dayton with dad to see L'Auberge Espagnol, just him and me and the road. it's been a while, i think since november or so when we went to the Rock n Roll hall of fame. good ol' dad. he's a good kid. not as naieve as he acts.



love you all, even you fashion fascists. you make life interesting, bitches.