01/08/01
When I was younger I had this habit that my friend Jason pointed outwas a good one. As I went to sleep at night I played chronologically through the course ofthe day'sevents in great detail. What would happen is that I would sort of re-liveall of the day'shighs and lows, sometimes being very critical of myself.. others proud. Everyone sort of goes over things that they have done of course, wishingthat they had saidsomething different, more perfect or something. The strange thing aboutwhat I used to dois that I would go through and try to remember as much detail and do it inorder. I don'tdo this anymore, but I think that it's a good way to fall asleep. Byremembering the daysinteractions, events, etc. right before sleep you also etch them furtherinto memory I think,since people are supposed to be able to memorize things more easily orpermanently or somethingin the brain state right before sleep. I think that I may have been a bitwiser when I had beendoing this.
I mention this because I'd like to dump out the events of the pastweeks in great detail, butI've lost a lot. There are things that I experienced or thought that Iwanted to save, and wascertain that I'd remember them when I got to a computer but was verywrong. Writing with pen andpaper is sort of annoying for me. It seems like maybe a better way towrite, and probably is themost convenient way to record dreams, little lyrical thoughts or somethingon the train, in(just out of) the shower, etc.
In Paris, Boxer John decided to head to the Netherlands, and I went toLe Mazel. I took a trainto Montelimar, where I arrived at around 10 at night and there were nomore buses to Les Vans. Istayed at some dingy hotel, where I watched some strange French moviecalled The Mystery at ScotlandYard or something on the little TV in the room that you had to push thevolume buttons severaltimes rather than the power button to turn on. I paid extra for theremote, but it didn't work, andI didn't care enough to go back downstairs and sound annoying. The nextmorning I got the bus to LesVans and was now within 7 km of the very small villa of Le Mazel.
It was sort of afternoon, and the town is very small. I saw a few barsand the post office andlittle stores that were all closed. One place was sort of open, called LeHomard Americain. The 'Americain' suggested maybe they would maybe speak a little English. They did, but just that. The Homard Americain is a movie, they say. Anyway, I ask the bartender ifhe knows where Le Mazelis. Nope. I show him the map that
Ryan had drawn for me. Nope. He shows it to the coroner courier/ambulance driver/taxi of thearea. This guy is eatingsome sausage, and has a gander. There is really no reason for him to helpme, but he offers a rideanyway. I had been trying to reach someone named Heidi, who lives nearbyto arrange for a ride upthe mountains to the villa. She wasn't answering. I accept the ride, andorder a beer, but he saysthat we have to go now and someone translated that he had to go playFather Christmas in like 30 min. I drank the beer very quickly and hopped in the ambulance/taxi with anununiformed Santa.
When I get to Le Mazel, the sky is blue and the rocks (slate?) arethis strange light grey. It'samazing, the ride is amazing. No one is there, except for 4 Frenchconstruction workers that knewnothing of me coming and had very little to do with the house. We hadfunny little conversations inpoor spanish/english/french/pantimime. They laughed that I was in LeMazel. Therewas no public phone around,and I had no key. I had this bag of potato chips. They pointed to thenext villa, which wasn't morethan a kilometer through the woods, but it was like around mountains anddown a valley and there'strees and stuff. I found a path and started dropping potato chips as Iwent along, a little trickpicked up from Hansel and Gretal.
This well marked and old stone paved trail led me in no time to Banne. There I found a pay phone,situated under the ruins of an old castle and some houses. Not like a bigcastle up on a hill, butkind of like right there. No one was around, really, and when cars drovepast the people seemed tolook at me. I guess that's not abnormal. No answer from Heidi, so I wentback to Le Mazel and foundan unlocked door to Ryan's studio. I climbed up some really scary oldmetal ladder and then was ona second level. I tried a window that had curtains, assuming that thatwould be lived-in, but itwas locked. I popped up from this balcony when I heard Heidi callingHelllooooo. She asked if Iwas Joshua and blah blah blah. She was very cool. She let me in, showedme around, and then we wenton some errands. Went to the garage to get a chainsaw fixed, but whilethey were working on that, weran over to a nursery to get a little tannenbaum (she's German) and thento the farmer-woman's houseto get the dinde (turkey). Heidi was telling me how she had met theturkey and he was a good one. Itwas like some arranged marriage, her and the turkey.
I stayed in Le Mazel for Christmas and read some Italo Calvino. Heidi's family and some of their friends came to stay too. Theywere very nice and I ate Christmas dinner with them. There were youngkids that liked when read Pippi Longstocking aloudin German, even though I didn't really understand what I was reading. There were some teenaged kids too, named Milan andMascha. I got along with the family and they kids would translate toEnglish for me if something seemed particularlyinteresting. There was one Jackass though named Tomas. I like him, but Ihave to say that he's a Jackass. Heidi'smom was probably 60 or something and was riding around inside the house onone of those scooters like a kid. She was alsovery nice and smiles and all that. She spoke English.
I rode Ryan's bike down the mountain and to Les Vans. It's only 7km orso, and only one turn. There arecurvy mountain roads with cliffs and no railings and barely enough roomfor two little cars to slide by. I prettymuch held the brake the whole way down. I bought something down in town,got a little money and rode the bike back up. I wasn't sure that I was going to be able to make it all the way, sincemost of it was fairly steep and I've been smoking. I did though, and on the way, I stopped at some land that Ryan wants tobuy. It too is amazing, with terraced vines andbeautiful ruins. I would like to make some money and buy some land there. The land seems very clean and sane and divine.
Thehouse used to belong to a Swedish actress named Mai Zetterling, andsome of her things are still there. She has anice library, which was really cool to hang out in.
After a week in France, I went to Barcelona to meet Boxer John again. Unfortunately, I hadn't been able tocommunicate with him and he had left Barcelona hours before I got there. I had fallen asleep on a train and ended up inIrun. When I arrived in Barcelona, I couldn't find any open hostels,since there was some strange holiday called New Year'sor something and I didn't have a reservation anywhere. I found a quietseemingly untraveled street with some little artgalleries on it and slept for a while in the threshold of a loading dock. So far, that has been the only time I really,really needed a sleeping bag. I did need it then though. I woke up a fewtimes during the night when I heard footsteps,but for the most part I slept fairly well. After checking my mail, Ilearned that Boxer John would be in Ciudad Real and Iagreed to meet him the next day. We met and nothing was happening inCiudad Real. We went to Algeceiras and spent the nightin a pretty clean double room for not much money.
It was Dec 31st there and we were in a Chinese Restaurant (the onlything we could find that was open, the town was dead) atMidnight. They gave us grapes. We didn't really eat them, but we drankwine. Sleep and then the ferry to Tangier. TheMediterranean was very blue. We got our sea-faring adventure on. Therock of Gibraltar isn't that exciting looking, butafter having a pretty annoying conversation with a British trucker on theferry, I'm convinced that there are all sorts ofneat intelligence/information gathering operations on/in Gibraltar. Or anEvil Lair or something.
I had read all sorts of stories of hustlers in the guidebooks andwhatever, and had expected to be hostile in getting throughthe port. I think I was overdoing it though, since the first few things Isaid when I got off was 'Go Away.. No Than..Go Away.' This pissed one guy off; next time I just won't say anything. Afterfinally getting past all the people looking to make abuck, we were walking down some street with our backpacks on when aMoroccan who was very suspiciously wearing a Canadian pin. He had recognized us by John's blonde-dyed hair, which his 'brother' orfriend had described to him over the phone from Algeceiras. His friend had given us the name of a hostel in Tangier in the hostel inAlgeceiras. We accepted, but weren't necessarily makingsome commitment. In any event, he wrote it down in Arabic, which was kindof annoying since of course we can't read Arabic.
We decide to follow this guy to the hotel across the street which hesays is his, and then he tells us some exorbitant rate. He's probably trying to make some commission from us or some bullshit. Now I understand that you have to make a buck somehow,and maybe there aren't exactly a lot of jobs in Tangier, but it stillfucking annoys me since he's not saying that he's tryingto make a buck. Who knows, he very well may have worked there, but hisbrother said that he owned it. We ask him his name andafter a brief hesitation he gives us 'Mohammed'... yeah, no shit. Anyway,so we tell him we don't want to pay whatever price thatwas and he decides to show us this other hostel that he owns... no hisfather owns... you see.. he's very powerful in Tangier,blah blah blah. The whole while giving us this load of bullshit andtrying to become our guide. He shows us this sad roomin some hotel after speaking again in Arabic to the people that workthere. He tells us to leave our luggage there, which arebackpacks, and we're like, no we'll just carry them. Then we say thatwe've got to go to an ATM, which was true... we had nomoney, but we wanted to discuss shit in private. Igpay Atinlay isn't abad idea, but it's not very effective when Johntranslates out loud to figure out what you said, and it's not veryconvenient for a lot of information.
We explain to Mohammed that we'll be back and that we'll find the ATM,etc. and that we don't need a guide, thank you, and he gets allpissed off because he probably spent a decent part of the day looking forus. His brother probably told him we were coming onthe earlier ferry, but we waited a while and so probably did he. Meanwhile, this guy with one eye and pocks and stuff all overhis face is loitering around with too much interest. So Mohammed gets allpissed, starts calling us Jewish, and threatening tofuck us up. In retrospect, he's sort of comical. The one-eye guy tellsJohn he has to give the guy something. John doesn't.I try to tell Mohammed that we're sorry, we appreciate his concern for ourwell being, but he must have been confused about usneeding a guide. I put my hand in my pocket and One-Eye comes over, "whatyou have in you pocket..a knife? i have a knife; youwant a present in you face? you see blood on you face!" I actually didhave a knife in my pocket, but that was coincidence,and I would have been probably too concerned about police and all thatshit to use it. These guys so far hadn't touched us, but nowOne-eye is following us and telling John to give him Pesetas. John pullsout a 100 peseta coin, which I don't think you caneven change, and is worth very little and he decides he wants paper. That's simply out of the question, and the guy is makingthese demands with his hand in his pocket, and probably no knife. So hewalks back up the hill or something and then startscoming back down with some lighter or some bullshit in his hand. We kindof cross the street fast and these Moroccans in a cafeare laughing at the whole situation.
We go to the Port again, and hide in this cafe. Drink some water,smoke a cigarette, etc. Then we decide to go to the HotelMauritania, because Lonely Planet says it's nice and they have bidets inthe rooms. We take a taxi there, which is cheap andcheck in without further incident. Tangier is the most amazing place I'vebeen, excluding that Mohammed character and ol' One-Eye, but even theywere sort of amazing.
Mint Tea, The Hand of Fatima, Dream of a Thief, The Call to Prayer,Where Can We Get Toilet Paper, "My Friend" (aka Mon Ami,Mi Amigo, etc.), 1 Dirham for 1 Marlboro, and Flies on Cakes. The flyprobably costs extra.
01/15/01
I'm waking up very early and going to sleep at Midnight. I'm happy tobe back in the US, Philadelphia. I miss New York. Philadelphia has itsbenefits, though and for the first time I've considered what it would belike to live here. We'll see.
I feel different now. Like the world has gotten a lot smaller or Ihave gotten bigger. I am 5'9", I really am.
I bet on Dingley Dell against All Muggleton with John. It appears thatDingley Dell lost 0-54, and I owe John the equivalent of 10 USD or so. Ithink John had the game fixed.
01/18/01
Boxer John has been abducted. I think that he's fine and that he'llreappear any day now. Zoe makes me happy. I crave skateboarding. I amsetting up some art modeling to make some money immediately. Reality ismostly back, and New York City is better than it has been for a while.
I'd like to collect superstitions. Please email them to me if you knowof any, even the most common American ones.
01/20/01
Oil Joints.
01/22/01
Life isn't that hard sometimes, even when it is. One stressful daywhen I was maybe 14 or 15 it occurred to me that no matter how painful orunpleasant a situation becomes, you probably aren't going to die. Well,you may die, but then the situation won't matter that much anyway. Thatput things into a more acceptable perspective. I am healthy and eventhough things are a little bit tricky right now, I am fairly content.
01/24/01
Sometimes you have to keep the plans loose as a goose. That time isnow. I'm beginning to wonder what the immediate future has in store forme. I don't know, I don't know.
I was modeling today and was doing the same pose three times for 20minutes. I would breathe very deeply and slowly and get very relaxed andin the blink of an eye the 20 minutes would be up. I almost didn'twant to get up it was so comfortable, but that would have been weird and Ididn't want to set any new precedent for keeping a pose for longer than 20minutes. I can't wait to have some sort of sanctuary. Some sane place.
One morning I woke up to the very familiar smell and sound of bacon andeggs cooking up. That Stssshsshshshshshs when the bacon hits the hot panwas usually loud enough to wake me up, even though I was sleepingupstairs. I was young though and usually woke up very early anyway, so Iprobably was barely asleep at that point in the morning.
I went downstairs and Polly was there, not at all surprised that I wasawake now like she knew that her cooking breakfast woke me up. I had caught all these crayfish, maybe 10 or so little ones andput them in a jar. The evening before I had set them on the windowsill andthey seemed content and everything. In the morning there were nolonger 10 little ones, but one very large one! I didn't say anything atfirst, since this was a very strange situation. I thought and thoughtabout it for a while, and definitely remembered 10 little ones. It wasonly yesterday. I still didn't say anything, but I thought that Polly orDave must have had something to do with this. Then again, animals did doweird things, and there was the Voltron effect.
01/31/01
New York is stretching back out. I'm back in its veins, coursingaround like some kind of blood-squid. The lair I work in has no naturallight and lots of construction. Please donate tapestries. People arereally silly. It's amazing how much power you have when you just don'tcare. It's amazing how much the common little shit that works whereveryou work will try to dump his problems on you, elevate his esteem at yourcost, exploit your fears or feelings of guilt. When you just don't care(read "give a shit") all of that dissipates. You're free to do what yoneed and want to do as you see fit. If you make someone unhappy, theytell you about it and you try to make them feel better, assuming that youshould.
My search for a place to live is moving along, but the main issue isgetting the ducats in the account. People really make a lot of sacrificesto live in this city. I personally tend to think that it's worth it, butit still strikes me as extreme what people will pay, share, and deal withcommuting/traveling as far as living space. I hear that this isn't evenas bad as other places in the U.S.
I had a strange dream that I was running while standing on my hands, sorunning on my hands down the halls of my rarely attended high school. This kid kicked me in my chest, which was near the ground since Iwas upside down. I started kicking his ass, and then his friend was thereand then they were sort of crying a little bit and mad at me. I explainedthat they were really tough and everything and that they could have beatenme up, they just didn't work together. Then I went on running down thehalls on my hands.
I came to some councelor that I had had during high school who Ireally didn't like and to this day would have to bite my tongue if I everran into her. I didn't bite my tongue in this dream and ripped her apart. She countered by presenting an issue of the magazine "W" that I was on thecover of, in a picture where I was very obviously intoxicated. I couldn'tfigure out where the picture came from but it seemed like somewhere I hadbeen in Europe. I was sort of embarrassed although in real life I'd beextremely surprised and probably equally excited that my picture was onthe cover of "W". I don't remember what happened after that.
I have some ideas.
02/04/01
A dirty, subterranean night last night. Freezing cold. Popping out ofthe ground on a manhattan sidewalk holding your fingers to your lips tostartled passersby is incredible.
Excerpt about brazen summer attempt at riding a bike South. 151 ofmany? My eyes sting for some reason. Probably the dirt.
Dreams about a short flight, B. John in a jelaba confused by theMilitary Police for a 'monk or a scribe'. I fell asleep by the warm lightof a 6 hour tape full of The Simpsons.
Word from India, China, and other parts, but nothing definite. Beenthinking about the supposed 2nd Ave subway tunnel sections. I am lookingfor an apt, after all.
02/06/01
I may have an amazing apartment that I can move into on February 15th. That is making my day go down pretty well. Sat through a really longmeeting this morning, and although that basically means that I have lesstime to do the things that I already had to do, I enjoyed it.
I really love Jamaican beef patties. I want to have a party and I wantto have those things.
02/08/01
Nope, I don't have an amazing apt that I can move into on the 15th. Back to the drawing board.
www.billburg.comand www.aprilslist.com.Working is insane. I smell red leather gloves, with padding inside.
02/08/01
Nope, I don't have an amazing apt that I can move into on the 15th. Back to the drawing board.
www.billburg.comand www.aprilslist.com.Working is insane. I smell red leather gloves, with padding inside.
02/09/01
I've got heaps of work but that's alright. I'm really glad that Ididn't end up in that particular place in Williamsburg that was sortof more expensive than it was worth to me, even though it was very verynice. I don't really care about Williamsburg because I don't reallyknow about it and I don't trust popular opinion anyway. Last night Iwas back up in Spanish Harlem for the first time in a long time and Ireally really like it up there. Even though Pleasant Ave. is far fromthe 116th 6 stop, I still think that I would live there.
02/13/01
I really need a sanctuary. Work is insane. The rate at which peoplecan come up with problems is amazing. There are only like 30 of thelittle buggers here, but they generate and endless supply of problems.
Apartment hunting in NYC is getting old. Hopefully I'll at leastfind a sublet that I can afford sometime in the very near future. I'mstaying with a friend in Astoria in an apt. called Cairo due to it'sextremely sunny, dry, and hot climate. You have to leave the windowsopen all the way even though it's February.
On Sunday night I went to the store to buy juice and whatever andsaw this really tasty looking chocolate ice cream bar.. At the sametime I realized that I needed to buy a toothbrush. I only had enoughmoney for one of the two items though. I debated and decided on thedove bar.
Let's go back a little bit. I think that it was my birthday, ormaybe my sister's. I was probably around 11 or so. My friend wasexpected to be arriving any minute, so I went to the end of the streetto see him arrive. I was waiting for a really long time, and I had thisskateboard, so I was sort of playing around on it. I wasn't reallyable to ride too quickly, so I would kneel or whatever and push myself.Well, my friend arrived and was driving down the street with his mom. Naturally, I decided to race the car. All was going well, even thoughit looked like they were going to beat me. All was going well, thatwas, until I hit some crack in the sidewalk and launched forward andlanded on my face, breaking my front tooth in half. It hurt, and Isoiled myself at the same time to add that extra embarrassment.
My grandmother, Mammaw, took me to the dentist and I got all fixed up.My new fake tooth was really big though and didn't look right next toall my other teeth. Eventually I grew into the tooth, but for a longtime it was too big.
The other night, as soon as I walked out of the store with the stupidice cream bar and bit into it, my cap chipped off. Now I have to paystupid amounts of money to get it fixed and whatever. I went immediatelyacross the street to buy the toothbrush to avoid incurring any more ironicdental problems.
02/19/01
Dying well. I'm all busted up. Boxer John is in theAnglo-Babbling-Junion figuring out how to network apples. Rumor has itthat I've been mocked! Imagine!
I need air.
02/20/01
So strange. I'm happy about a few trivial compliments here and there. That's not the strange part. The strange part is that I woke up beforedawn and found myself sitting upright on my sleeping bag Indian-style. It would seem that I spent some time sleeping in that position.
02/21/01
Something that really frustrates me about the web are reallyinterestingly titled sites or links with perfectly relevant seeminginformation that ends up being entirely useless. I hope that no one everends up at this site while looking for something else. People will go sofar as to even title their full url directories to seem like you're goingto be presented with the EXACT information that you're looking for as soonas you go ahead and click.
I stole MDomino's vegetable burrito while he was on the phone. I'llbuy him another one. That's ok, right? He wasn't happy about it.
Cynerton is a looney place. There are some amazing people, but thereare also some really ridiculous ones with almost nothing to offer that Iconsider to be that valuable. Perhaps there are even a few that have moreof a detrimental influence than positive. Without even knowing, I'm sure.
People are so greedy. It's sick to see it come out in a place that issupposed to be battling back some of the eventualities of individual orco-operative greediness. I really think that many more people than wecommonly think are genuinely crazy. Myself included.
02/24/01
Last night a very strange saline evening. At some art opening on 22ndbetween 10th and 11th and talking to a dear friend who subjects herself toall sorts of maternal concerns for her friends and lovers. As I'm tryingto point out a funny characteristic of a mutual friend, I see a manwalking by in my peripheral vision who looks familiar and as it clicks Iutter, "Ohhh my gaaawd..." only to have John Waters mock me with a morenasaly voice. Normally I wouldn't even recognize a famous person, but hereally is a bizarre one. I also wouldn't normally say something like, "Ohmy god." even if I did recognize them. Funny.
For the first time in my life I ingested too much salt. As I wastrying to go to sleep, very concerned about what my body was doing, Irealized how dangerous good old salt is. Many things are unsorted, but Ihave faith.
02/25/01
My right index finger is funked up. I jammed it at a funny party lastnight while trying to jump over some jingle jangle jarred up fireflies. And it hurts. Now to hack out some living arrangement until I can getinto my Crown Heights station.
03/01/01
I am wearing the same clothes as yesterday and avoiding running intopeople that saw me yesterday. I think that I should use my lunch hour togo to H&M and buy some new digs. I can get to 51st and 5th quicklyenough. I've added some pictures and hope to be adding more soon. Itdawned on me that it's pretty vain to have this gallery of yourself, soI'm going to start including other things.
Lately I've been considering taking up some things that I have beenreally critical of or something. I requested some course catalogues froma few schools and think that I need to start taking photos.
It's funny how things turn out and sometimes it's extra funny. Soon I'll move into my sublet and then hopefully Fernando Fernandez and Ican work something out for a studio or one bedroom for me on 116th. Jerome would be an excellent neighborhood as well. Jerome, for those ofyou that weren't there for me to believe the Boxer when he told me thatthat is what the neighborhood's actual name is, is an area in Harlem atthe bottom of Marcus Garvey park (I think). I seem to recall it being on120th or something, so if those two things are not compatible, then pickone, it's not a real name for a neighborhood.
03/02/01
Trying to get this stupid yellowdog linux distro to do an ftp or http install off some wacky server which onlyworks half the time and not all the way. Looks like I'll have to actually wait for the CD to get here. Thatreally annoys me. Z is coming to meet me and will probably go bust over to Queens. I could very well end up inPhiladelphia before the night is over, for there is a party in that city to which I have been invited. There isalso a J Tigabinowitz who I would like to chill with.
Watching old people fumble with technology can sometimes be pretty amusing. I have a hard time not smirkingsometimes. In one of those office resigning parties someone noticed this about me today. I feel for the oldpeople, I really do. There are those that I give credit to though, those that will go ahead and figure things out.
Not that it is particularly interesting but I did some springime shell cleaning yesterday and my account feels alot more accommodating. I moved things where they maybe should be filed and exported my old mail to big text filesfor storage and certain misplacement or deletion.
This very journal sits precariously on a free server in Texas that could be taken down at any moment withoutnotice. They could pull the plug and anything I don't have backed up locally somewhere is gone, gone, gone. I'vehad it happen before. It's not fun.
I was reading Anais Nin's journal again on the train this morning and realized that hers is really much betterthan mine. Where did she find the time to write so much? I don't think she had a steady job. She wasmoonlighting in NYC as a psychotherapist for a while, but even then she still wrote what seems to me to be a lot. I also have to consider the fact that mine is public and has a lot of potential for changing my immediate relationswith people. I end up editing a lot and not writing about certain subjects that are too sensitive or private. That definitely takes away from the therapeutic value of regular personal writing.
Last night I ate this kim-chi and had three Sapporos. It seems like it was pretty early when I fell asleep. MDomino was kind enough to remind me to borrow his cell phone and set it for 8AM, which I did. I ended up wakingup at 7:59AM, but anyway.. earlier on in the night I must have gotten up to do something. Whatever I was doing orwhyever I got up, I decided that I should sleep in MDomino's bed. The couch is my bed, I never sleep there. Well, I wake up at like 4:30 or something and have no idea where I am. Where was I reading that the Sufis orsomething think that this sensation is the closest to enlightenment that we become?.. So, then I figure out thatI'm in MDomino's bed, which is briefly satisfying until I ask myself WHAT I am doing there. Hoping that MDominocould shed some light on the situation I ask, "What the ---- am I doing in your bed?!" He thought that this wasfunny, so I guess it's ok, but it's still weird. I have a long history of doing weird things in my sleep. I wakeup in different rooms, with my head on the opposite side of the bed that it was when I went to sleep, talking,teeth grinding, snoring, eating, moving, and much worse.
My eyes are stinging and it's stuffy in here.
03/04/01
Friday after arriving in Astoria, Z, MDomino and I went to have dinner. We came back to spot a very large cockroachin his very clean and very white apartment. I'm not really _that_ disgusted by the creatures, but they are sneaky andyou don't know what they're up to. Z didn't like it very much and I was concerned that it would decide to hide in mypile of stuff (sleeping bag, shirts, pants, backpack, sweaters, etc. that MDomino graciouslytolerates taking up spaceon his living room floor) but MDomino managed to take a glass and put itover the bug. Now it wasn't so threatening. MDominohad encountered some even larger bugs at an undisclosed residence in Brooklyn and they had named the two bugs they hadfound Ponce De Leon and Christopher Columbus. They had captured these in jars and thrown them several yards over fromtheir backyard. This one on Friday was Magellan. I didn't have a problem with approaching Magellan now andtransferred him into a jar with a lid. The operation did freak me out a little and I had to walk back into the livingroom and not think about it scurrying around and almost jumping out as I was capping the jar.
There was some discussion about what to do with Magellan now, but I had to think about it for a bit. I decidedthat he deserves a chance and that the subway system would provide the adventure suitable for an explorer such asMagellan.
I labelled the jar with masking tape that his name was Magellan and that he had no home. I also explained that hehad lost a lot of money investing in stupid stocks. I put my email address and this URL hoping to hear more about thefate of Magellan. At Union Square I left him on a City Hall bound new 6 train. I wonder if he made the abandonedstation loop. As the train was pulling out and people sat down where the jar was, I noticed someone pick it up and showit to their friend.
I hope that Magellan does well.
03/13/01
It's 3AM and I'm at work. Oh, noooowwww I remember. I have dreams ofmuddy, back breaking hard labor.
03/15/01
Friends, countrymen, thank you for lending your sofas. I have beenriding the wave of sofas, hostels, and floors since September orsomething. Of course, I have been accomodated in guest rooms and ithasn't been exactly HARD in the grand scheme of things but you're neverreally alone when you're homeless. You always have to be social. It'sfine and I'm so used to it that it will be weird to have my own livingspace but I am happy.
I crack my jaw too much and grind my teeth.
03/14/01
Date: Wed, 14 Mar 2001 20:01:32 -0000
From: John Kosinski <boxrjohn@hotmail.com>
To: milk@ductape.net
Subject: succor at last
i am getting paid to write CODE! ALL DAY!
_________________________________________________________________
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03/16/01
I slept in the living room of my new sublet in Crown Heights. I reallylike the house, it's older and comfortable and the floors are verysqueaky. I will move upstairs into my room very soon.. tonight? I amexhausted and saw these huge bags under my eyes this morning. I watchedSense and Sensibility last night or part of it. It was a very girly movieI think.
So I've heard about Foot and Mouth disease from two sources in twodays. The first time I heard it I thought it was Foot *in* Mouth disease,which I thought was a very interesting name for a disease. Perhaps I havethis disease. I was reading in the newspaper that theyare 'destroying animals in 2 square mile swaths' or something. What amessed up job. Not only that, but then farmers were burning the bodies? It's really almost enough to make me only eat McDonald's. Maybe Ishoudn't eat meat. I've always been convinced that the -real- healthsecret is to poison yourself with loads of beef and butter and if you'rereally going to get your Mithridates on then supplement that with nightlydoses of whiskey or gin. Smoking cigarettes detracts from the beneficialproperties of beef, butter, and whiskey. However, most people who consumeindecent quantities of beef, butter, and whiskey also smoke. This is whythis method has not been publicly recognized. I think that I'm wrongthough. I don't really like to eat chicken unless it's from a fast foodplace, and even then it's a little bit freaky. Beef is a pretty soundmeat, so I'm very comfortable with it, but lately all these diseases havestruck the cows and I'm wondering if I should give it up. I'll create ameatlog. I mean, I'll create a log of my meat consumption. I'm sure thisI don't have the resolve to religiously keep it up, but at least I'lldocument my flakyness that much better.
I'll start the meatlog now by going to purchase some liverwurst. Boy Ilove liverwurst.
03/19/01
This little freaking wireless Palm modem keeps shocking me pretty hardand it's not the day for shock therapy. This morning some wiltingsouthern girl tries to pass blame on me for not telling them that theproblem that she and her very important (at least he thinks so) boss wereexperiencing had been fixed for hours.
He starts attacking me and I tell him that I understand hisfrustrations and that there was a hardware failure that I could not haveknown about. So I got in at 9:15 or so even though I left early. PerhapsI could have beat them in in the morning because it's a rather big day andwe're having this event and everything. Whatever. The mailserver keepsbugging out as well and I'm sure that that is going to cause me someproblems. Basically I told the person I effectively report to that if Iget any more crap from that guy then she can expect my resignation. Heapologized, but I really only have so much tolerance for the bullshit. Igenuinely believe that I can be happy washing dishes and poor. At leastfor a while. Not that I'm really going to resign, but I also don'tthink that they'd really let me go. It would be welcome anyway blizzip.
Brooklyn is growing on me. I like my house although myroommates are sort of alien to me. Not that we can't get along orcommunicate, and I even like them, but they're sort of _strange_. I likethe lighting in my room and have been thinking of it all day as I've beengoing through hell. A bed. Clean sheets. NPR. Freshly brushed teeth.My mostly black laundry drying everywhere since we have a washer but nodryer which is really great for my clothes as I usually end up toastingthem into weird crunchy shapes at the laundromat. Brooklyn where theydon't have a city hall but a Borough Hall. Wouldn't Manhattan let them?Did it used to be Brooklyn City Hall? When I walk down the street I thinkthat people think that I am trying to buy drugs or maybe they're justtrying to rip me off because I'm white. Maybe they're really just tryingto sell me good shit and they offer to everyone that seems like aprospective client and I seem like that.
It's so close to springtime in NYC and I'm hoping that this spring willbring many relaxed, healthy days. I've challenged Turp to a boxing matchand have to get into shape now, so I'm quitting smoking. I still feel abit sick from drinking too much beer and smoking too many cigarettes thisweekend, but think that maybe tomorrow I should go for a jog throughBrooklyn if the weather is good in the morning. I'm notsure that we'll get around to the fight, but I still have to train. Thissummer might be a big skateboarding summer. I have to be in shape forthat since the past few summers I can almost get all loose and in shapebut I spend too much time just struggling to get comfortable again. Ithink that I should definitely travel again. Perhaps to Egypt, althoughthe summer may not be the best time. Fall. I could see SF this summer.
I'm fully immersed in the mundane. Reality is very real. I can't seethe strangeness of the texture of the ether.
I'm not recording every time I eat meat. Who has the time andattention for that?! What a dumbass idea that wouldn't have even producedinteresting results unless I could do a poll where people could rate howmuch more or less meat than me.
