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I am sitting alone once again in my new blue room. I’m suprised I made it out of bed before noon today. Dragan called at nine sharp to confirm for this evening, and I couldn’t get back to sleep. Lately I haven’t been able to sleep well. When I put my head down, a switch is triggered which sets my mind running. The machinery is too loud to sleep through. I cannot help but worry about everything. I should call Peter today and ask him if I am wearing lipstick. I want to look pretty while I am getting fucked.
It is warm for January, almost fifty degrees. Inside the trench that I am digging, however, I can see my breath in short ghostly bursts. The earth is moist and cool. I discoverred a rock, and upon probing its size, discovered that it was as big as the Ditch-Wich. Dan told me to dig to the left. Doing so, I discovered the rock had apartner, much smaller, but tenacious nonetheless.For over an hour I wrestled with that thing, digging, prying, digging again, fighting like a prehistoric dentist, extricating a molar from the gaping maw or Arlington, Massachusetts. Eventually, I won
auditioning roommates is tough business. I don’t enjoy it at all. the thought of a stranger moving in is alarming. the need to define and describe oneself is nauseating. I keep thinking “am i deluding myself and therefore this stranger I am inviting to come stay forever?” I’m looking beyond whether or not the interviewee is lying to whether or not I am. I wouldn’t choose me as a roommate. I hate this rotten stinking life and everything in it. I hate myself . I have no idea how I am going to survive the next two months. Welcome Home!
The choice is made. We just went out for drinks. She had Bloody Maries. I was falling asleep in my barstool. It’s a real wonder we hadn’t met before this. we know friends of friends. I saw Kelly through the window, and hastened to flag her down. She knows everybody. She came and sat for a spell. Joel says girls are the best to live with. I tend to agree, but it has been a while, and even then, it was not just me. If I count to sixteen, I might just make it before another day begins. We’ll see.
When I was younger, I thought that since the front of my head was called the forehead, the top of my head must be my fivehead. My folks always said my eyes were brown because I was full of shit, and that I resembled the mailman more than my dad. I love my parents. My dad taught me to concentrate by sticking my tongue out and squinting one eye. This once caused me to nearly bite my own tongue off. I love my parents. When I got a new brother I let him know he was full of shit too.
I will bet that Dean would really get his rocks off on a project like this. I spent the day digging a ditch in the rain. The boss made light of it, saying “I have put you in charge of a huge job.” I said “it’s a grave responsibility.” He didn’t get it. Joel did. Joel was drinking earl grey tea, as opposed to his usual black coffee, no sugar. “Dark and bitter, just like yer women,” I joke. On the radio, they kept saying “partly sunny, chance of showers.” The sun came out at 4:40. We were rolling up.
Here’s to one more year that I have to call my mom and say “Happy birthday, I put your card in the mail yesterday,” and still haven’t made one. She’s got it rough, 3 weeks after Xmas. My brother has his two weeks and four days later. dad and I have our own months. It’s not as if I forget, I thought about it at Xmas. I just do not follow through. Come to think of it...nobody came through for Big B. And they all live together...If i count to thirteen I just might make it. I fell short again.
Painting at Jane’s today. I didn’t have the heart to tell her that the color was horrendous. Lime green meets avacado. It’s her place, not mine...Her cats are cute. I went to the bathroon, turned on the light to find the two of them sitting in the bathtub as if it were a wagon taking them somewhere. Very funny. We went out for beers at the middle east after. Erika was there. Now there is a blast from the past. We had very little to say to each other. I wanted to ask “how’s the modelling career going?” Funny stuff.
Now i can feel it. The booze don’t work anymore. If I was half as suave as i thought i was, i might be able to meet a girl sometime. The feigned interest must be an inside joke. I like to stretch rubberbands out and write things on them. when compressed, the message is a line from a comic book, distorted just so. Tonight I wrote “welcome Home.” My dreams occur in the morning, today it was about graduating. When i left the house, my report card was in the mail box. I wonder if i’m on academic probation now.
Band practice actually occured today, after may weeks of waiting and miscued steps. We never did have the talk that will essentially destroy the bonds of group. But we cannot sidestep that issue for long, as true love awaits the little drummer boy across the pond. Regardless, the exercise is an enjoyable one, a chance to flex muscles that lay dormant too often. THat’s how I feel at least. I think Joel appreciates it as well. We both realize that we are engaging in an essentially pointless endeavor, yet feel it too enjoyable to cease. If I count to five....
A girl calling herself “Kerosene” called today. I think she’s funny as hell, but I have not yet had the chance to teach a giraffe to swim. And I really doubt that she really owns a bi-wing plane. I could be mistaken. She might not be dissapointed. Or not. I haven’t owned up to any of the promises I made for myself this weekend. I still have detergent left over. And all my clothes are smelly and caked in mud. Superbonbon never wrote back. If I count to fourteen twice or thrice I might not make it. Let’s listen in:
Hector the Inspector said, “It’s beautiful! What is it?” We passed. I started putting all the dirt back. We listen to NPR all day. I’m all for being erudite and well informed, but man, sometimes I just want to hear some rock and roll. Took a nap tonight with scarry tucked into the crook of my arm, and had dreams about dad. I still haven’t looked up what happens to the earthworms in the winter yet. I wish I had paid more attention in typing class in high school. I do ok if i look at my hands, not long.
Another day of joblessness. I managed to get all the laundry and grocery shopping done that I had intended to do this past weekend. Better late than never, eh? Only a week til school starts back up. My final semester. Sometimes I want to stretch it out as long as possible, especially when I think about the twenty five grand I’ll be in the hole in November. Great. I have no motivation to create art when I’m not in school. But at least I will be a proffesional in four months. That will show them. That will show them all.
Buckets full of rocks were the way of the walk today. Hector the inspector never showed up, so my anxiety has another day to live. At least he’s stretching out my stint at the tea house. I forgot to cover the trench up before leaving today. I hope it doesn’t rain too hard tonight. I kept digging up earthworms which makes me wonder what they do in the winter. Hibernate? Or die? They seem sluggish and cranky to have been disturbed in the midst of either a long nap or the final resting place. This warrants further investigation. Let’s go!
The earthworms enter a state of near hibernation called aestivation. This is primarily a summer state. THe word literally means “the state of passing or spending the summer”. The worms, when it is too dry and hot to exist, burrow down into the earth and shut down for a couple of weeks or months, until it gets comfy again. In the winter, they simply do the same thing, crawling down below the frost line to slumber away the cold dreary winter months. The average lifespan of an earthworm is two to eight years! That’s a lot of dirt to eat.
It seems that a lot of people are running into bad luck these days. Tyler’s car got broken into, again, Joel’s grandfather died. Respectively, they were both pretty bummed out about all of it. Apparently, Old Man Hurlburt had had a heart attack a couple years ago and didn’t tell anyone about it. When he went under the knife yesterday, the damage was far worse than they had expected, and he died. It’s sad. But then, we all gotta go sometime. Funny, I don’t seem to have my word count tool today. Where in the hell did that thing go?
Let’s see if we can’t get this motherfucker to work today. Installing a gantry at Forest Hills Cemetary with Mac today, I was recalling the last time we set up a sculpture there over the summer. It was a beautiful sunny day. We were plotting, and one of the head honchos of the boneyard was there. I mentioned how nice the day was, and he replied, without a single iota of humor, “any day above ground is a beautiful day.” I relayed the anecdote to Mac, as I was laughing about it. He nearly fell out of the truck laughing.
I can’t believe I let a whole day slide by. Miracle: Mr. Lipsitt came through and I actually saw the inside of his studio today. I’m on the fence whether I like his work. In one respect, it’s spontaneous and fresh, on the other hand, it’s contrived and played out. Similar to David Smith’s work. To be honest, the piece we’re working on is crap. But keep that between you and me. But for such an off the cuff guy, he’s really uptight about getting these pattern pieces down. I had the impression there was a certain amount of leeway.
One thing I always disliked about winter was the residual salt and assorted detritus tracked in from the outside. I just spent a good deal of time mopping the hallway free of salty bootprints and muddy residue. I should reinstate my indoor shoe/outdoor shoe policy. Maybe set a little shoe changing station up in the hall right by the door. Just like Mr. Rogers. Speaking of which, Van Rogers is en route for tomorrow morning. Oh joy of joys. Nothing like a morning of extended ass-kissing to set the day running. If I count to nine I will make it.
Just got the call from painter Jen concerning the five piece monstrosity in the living room. She had called in the morning last week and said she would call back at night which she never did. So I left an obliquely snide message on her machine. She said I just should have mouthed off straight up to her. That’s not my style baby. I’m more of a sarcastic bastard. I sneak it in the backdoor, so to speak. Well, I’m going to attach the center panels together into one piece and mount it in my room. One two three four.
First day back to classes today. I’m stunned at how much work needs to be done for seminar. H White is off her nut this time around. It’s not right how much I dislike her. I used the word “inculcate” in class without being sure what it meant. Hang on a second....Yeah, I was right. Let me pat myself on the back. I love big words. Last semester I used “superfluous” to the chagrin of my creative writing class. The next week I noticed someone else used it too. I found that funny. I found occasion to say “ersatz” today.
Man, I just don’t think I have the energy to be in school this semester. Second class today, and I’m already slacking hard. My eyes kept glazing over in class. Philosophy is not the lighthearted romp I was expecting. The Prof is all over the place. I wonder what excuse I’m going to come up with next to avoid doing my homework. Let’s see...dinner, emails, bills, this...what else can I come up with? I had dreams last night about an intricate structure in the sky and I was visiting but terrified of heights. The ride down looked like fun, though.
Whew! Barely made it today! Ten minutes to spare. Had a very pleasant dinner with Joel, his girl and Chevy tonight. I can’t remember the girl’s name. I suppose I should work on my name retention skills. We had very pleasant conversations about art, films, our collective dislike of video art, football, music....you name it. Very nice. I brought ice cream with little tiny peanut butter cups in it. I think we will all watch the game together on sunday. Once again I forgot to bring this Mogwai CD over with me. I think Joel would like it. Or not.
I am officially on the list now. I did some reading last night and became intimidated by some really great stuff. I’ve got to step up my writing skills. Couldn’t sleep any more this morning. I was having dreams about the jewelry I’m going to make. My focus though is more on the findings aspect: chains, bails, etc, than on the lockets I propose to make. It seems to have entered into a fashion arena more than art jewelry, which is part and parcel, I suppose. It all started when J and I were talking about making clothes last night.
Lesson learned: number pieces one two three four and so on. Sweet merciful crap this order is fucked up. As I tried to relabel and organize everything I only managed to make a glorious mess. Sound familiar? The moral is: never try. But I’m commited, if for anything else, just to have something to do that flexes my writing muscles. I will consider this a practice run, and really fucking give ‘er a go next time around, older, wiser. I’m listening to the oldest stuff I have ever recorded. It’s wonderfully bad. Like watching a rollerblader fall on their ass.
If I’m a penny then I’ll call you a million
They say there’s more than one way
I’d be surprised if there were more than two or three
I watch the jaw drop, the eyes glaze over
if these were building blocks I still wouldn’t step there
The acquisition of just another
makes me tired of stacking up numbers
they keep getting bigger
and I stay the same size
if this was slumber i’d call you a tremor
needles skritch and scratch
you radiate the need to run away
you’ll split apart
take up more space
They must have been excessively drunk, because no sober person, no moderately drunk person, even, would dare to make so much noise at 6 on a sunday morning. I cannot believe the lack of consideration from those fuckers upstairs today. I have this secret fantasy in which my landlord kicks off, and through some miracle names me as the owner of the building. I would double the rent every two months until these fuckers were forced elsewhere. I stood, trembling with anger in my boxers while all hell erupted upstairs. The ceiling is pocked with broom handle size indentions now.
Saw Deb-Todd’s openning in Beverly tonight. Brilliant. The highlight was a small telescope through which one sees a revolving turntable with little “Insect Vignettes” --a beetle reading a book, a wasp putting on lipstick, bees riding piggy-back-- really funny, beautiful stuff. Tickets should have been sold, the line was huge. The woman before me kept muttering “Jeez, hurry up, would ya? Take yer time, fer cryin out loud” and so on. When it was her turn, she looked briefly, and muttered “That wasn’t worth the wait.” I restrained my urge to push her down. Dumb bitch. It’s fun to complain.
Ode to a Tank Top
Bless you, half yard of cotton
You should be cocooned in wintry slumber
Yet this unseasonable warmth
Has brought you forth
Dazed and blinking.
What prestidigitator revealed so much
While hiding so much more?
Copperfield has got nothin on you.
What tempest has stirred so violently
So much chaos in my pants?
Bless you, early springtime.
Bless you, spaghetti strap.
Bless you, pale and tender flesh.
A whisper of better things,
So many months ahead.
I have but to sit and await
For your timely flowering
And savor this vision
Which will carry me through.
Remember the time I tied the dog chain around your ankle and told you to run as fast as you could? How was I supposed to know that you would enjoy the result more than I did? Or, remember this? We were at Gramma’s, and you had a little plastic Gremlin doll. Stripe, I think it was. I rubbed jalepeno all over his face and told you to give him a kiss. Remember? Who would have guessed that my years of tormenting and beating on you would seem so funny to me on your twenty-fourth birthday? Why aren’t you laughing?
I suppose that since this is the last day of the month I should do some reflecting and reminiscing. Well forget it pal. This month was a shit stain on my calendar year, full of anxiety and tension. I’m not about to get misty eyed and wave saying “God speed January! I will miss you.” Fuck off. The most this month will get is a cursory glance down as I flush. January is that smelly guy that leans past you to the bar to order a Guiness. January is a dried up turd left on the sidewalk. Fuck you January.
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