Monday, June 26, 2006
So...I pretty much wrote an entire post on my piece-of-crap excuse for a laptop and then my computer died, as it's wont to do, and it all got DELETED!!!
Anyway, moving on.
I had a dream last night that I was riding in a helicopter being driven by a soft-spoken black man through this immense jungle in the mountains. The wildlife was incredible -- there were monkeys, all kinds of brightly-coloured birds, jaguars and wild cats, and even for some reasons pterodactyls, which at the back of my mind I knew wasn't right but I couldn't exactly explain why. The pterodactyls were incredible -- all fiery red and clawed and they hung out in these amazing red trees to camoflage themselves. As we got higher and higher the air started to thin out and I found it more and more difficult to breathe. I was just starting to panic when I woke up at 8:00 am in my absolutely airless little room, hot as an African jungle itself, with my sad little helicopter of a fan working in the corner, about as effective in the 30 degree heat as a person sitting on the edge of my desk blowing air in my general direction.
I also had a dream that my childhood friend had decided to give up studying "cell meiosis" at Berkeley in favour of going to acrobatics school in Switzerland. Then there was a dream where I was attending an all-girls private school not unlike Hogwarts, but none of the girls were even remotely hot and the place was in the middle of nowhere. What a rip-off.
The scarier thing is that I can find a foundation for all these dreams in my actual daily life. My quotidien, as the French would have it is sometimes just as odd as anything my subconscious can dream up.
I had a nice lunch with the Boy yesterday at the 1950s style diner in a super-seedy neighbourhood where Hayley and I always go. He seems to approve of my decision to stick by Hayley even though she's terribly screwed-up, although of course he has only an inkling of what's actually going on. At any rate, he said if we were me and him, the now-extinct US, three years ago, and super-solid, he would definitely have stayed with me. I pretty much knew he would think that. The Boy taught me most of what I know and value about loyalty and unconditional love, and that's another reason why he'll always have a special place in my heart. I also think he makes a really lovely friend.
The other day Hayley decided to cut her hair herself over the sink with a safety razor, and I decided to watch. It was a moment that desperately needed a camera to capture her strange blonde concentration, those blue blue eyes reflected in the mirror, and the blind spot accuracy my hairdresser would have envied. She seemed at first perplexed that I was so determined to watch her, but she finally gave in and asked me to fix the back where the hair is very thin and almost white-blonde and hard to get with the razor.
I'm hoping that this is how our life with go from now on -- she'll be determined to do everything on her own, and I will watch quietly until she lets me help her.
I bought Kinnie Starr's new album Anything yesterday. It's not mellow L-Word friendly stuff like her last effort, nor is it really hip-hop, guitar-riff-happy girl rock, or old-school rap anymore either. It's not really ANYTHING, and I don't love it so far, but I'm hoping that the show tomorrow will be great anyway. I come for the Buck, and I doubt he'll disappoint.
I also got the Yeah Yeah Yeahs' Fever to Tell, one of their older albums, which is pretty amazing. Karen O does a lot more screaming on this record, and that girl can scream for me anytime. I fucking love it.
That, and PEACHES is coming to town. Okay, I know I complain about her a lot. She's repetitive, obnoxious, juvenile, and sometimes just ridiculous, but she's apparently amazing live, and I have to appreciate her from an anthemic standpoint. I mean, who else could repetitively yell "I LIKE GIRLS AND I LIKE BOYS! I DON'T HAVE TO MAKE THE CHOICE!" with absolutely zero melody or beat involved, and have it become an actual anthem? I couldn't possibly help but love it.
Plus Hayley went to her show a few years ago and Peaches spat fake blood into her mouth. What more could you want from a concert, really?
In case you missed it, the above photo is of me and Dag in a park in Madrid. What a great day that was.
Oh yeah, and remember that creepy stalker woman who was sending me crazy messages a while back? Well, I blocked her, and she changed her username, and now she's sending me these horrible messages about how I keep using girls and how they'll all leave me eventually because I'm such a slut. It would be funny if I didn't now really want her to just evaporate slowly. Maybe she's just a big fan of ironic misnomers. I.E. Me, the serial monogamist of unwavering loyalty = completely shallow and amoral prostitute and player. Who knows.
This is too long.