January 2004 Archives

more about dreams.

last night, i dreamt i was back in hawai'i, except it wasn't hawai'i. i was in car, with a group of kids and another adult. we were taking them on a field trip to the *unnamed water place*. i knew the unnamed water place well. i had spent a lot of time there. on the way, we were passing an old old friend's house. i couldn't remember his name, or the names of the other two people who lived with him. one was a woman, the other, i couldn't recall. but then, in the bend of the road, i recognized their house by the state of the decrepit house next door. i got out of the van to hug my friend and it came to me that his name was jason. he remembered me slowly. i remembered getting very high with him when i was younger. i remembered garbage in the hall, a party. i remembered a conversation. feelings of time lost.

oh, i dunno.

you tell me.

really. why don't you tell me? 'cause hell if i can figure it out.

here are some questions i'd like answers to:

1) what in sam-hill is a-goin' on?

in your dreams.

two people told me i'd been in their dreams.

in the first dream, she was looking for me. looking everywhere. couldn't find me. she asked our friends, have you seen zack? but no one had. she kept looking, needing to find me. finally, someone said, oh, there's zack! and pointed me out. but the man she pointed to was tall and black. and the woman said, that isn't him, but she was afraid it was.

i did a rash thing last night.

i got a tattoo.

no. just kidding! no tattoo.

i sent my book proposal; The End of the World in to an agent i'd connected with two years ago. i'm not really sure why i did it. i haven't writen too much lately. the names piece for kitchen sink was the first real writing i've done since i fired my last agent. but, cleaning up this website and my outlook folders, i saw stuff pertaining to it, and read some of it, and decided i really liked it.

i'm having a good day.

~ ~ ~

the dirty work is done.

after much delay, i have finally made a clean sweep of this site. i chaged some file names so that non-obscene pictures of mine would no longer come up in horny-boy google searches. (girl-on-girl and hogtied, jeez! i swear, they were innocent pictures!) i flash fried all the orphaned files. i synchronized the server with my local drive. i resisted the urge to purge ancient pictures (barely) so if you're an old picture fan either start saving them to your hard drive or start a letter writing campaign.

today, on friendster, i got this message:

'your connection to this person is unavailable'

and i realized how very true that was.

is it spring yet?

crap.

i'm just all stressed out. i hate it when i write something, then go back and read it later and absolutely hate it.

i feel like an idiot tonight. a complete tool.

and i'm sorry.

so as my punishment i'm going to leave the below posted even though it makes me feel like a shithead.

i should be drinking coffee.

instead i'm writing.

there's been a lot to think about and digest lately. i'm like a toddler, putting things in my mouth to see if they're food. will this taste good? is it good for me?

which is funny, because last night i was a judge in an iron chef contest at horsefucker's birthday party. the mystery ingredient was limes and i got eight dishes--four from each team--to sample. it was more or less a tie, but the best dish by far was the lime-tequila ceviche. it was, in fact, fucking great and i'll try to get the recipe up here soon.

sometimes you have dreams.

sometimes they all think you're mad, and maybe you are.

some tell you to hold tight, others to jump ship, others to wait and see.

well, i'm not mad. and i'm not going to hold tight or jump ship or wait and see. i'm going to follow through.

there was a time when i felt that i had the power to dream things real.

let's see what comes out when i lay my head down on the pillow tonight.

as the man says, 'can i help it if i still dream time to time?'

i am moved, after spending tonight listening to gene wilder speak, to change my name to zero.

there's something sort of perfect about that name. i think i'll need to research where mr. mostel came up with it.

ah. here we go: "after all, here's a guy who's starting from nothing."

gene wilder told about how they first met when he read for the part of leo bloom in the producers. he was so nervous, he related, that his knees were knocking. the door opened, mel brooks introduced him to zero mostel, and zero walked up to him, grabbed him by the arm and kissed him on the mouth. gene says, after a pause, "it was quite a kiss." and after that he wasn't nervous any more. he read wonderfully and got the part.

he also had some very nice things to say about his co-star in Everything You Always Wanted to Know About Sex*.

it's about honesty.

these conversations this week, all about honesty.
about how much is too much: are you honest or forthright or both?
about how it feels: did you know i read your blog?
about being right there, face pressed up against the glass, feeling the wind through the glass honest with yourself: can you see how you are?

what do i share with all of you? do i tell you what happens in my head, or heart, or bed? is it any of your business? what if it actually is your business? is it then right to share it, or necessary, or perhaps wrong? what if knowing you read this means i can't be as honest as i want?

it's about honesty. and there is no answer. but it's a good question.

it reminds me of millers crossing, perhaps my favorite film, which is about ethics. ethics which are as clear as mud.

~ ~ ~

it was lov-er-ly playing on the swings with you tonight, kendra. being honest with you feels honest.

you went home with my scarf.

just spent the evening hanging out with my brother and helmut. we were going to go to zeitgeist for our weekly schmooze, but it was too blicky out, so we just sat around, eating chocolates, and telling stories.

helmut says he's moving to brasil soon. this makes me pine for days of travel. i talk about sarawak and roti canai and the size of singapore. i say, 'well, maybe if i decide to leave the symphony i'll try to get a job at some podunk symphony overseas,' but i just don't know if that's my life now. i suppose i could reclaim it but perhaps it's time to live a different one.

i know it's only the third, but we are confident in declairing our friend-to-remain-nameless "it's most definitely time to get a change purse" award winner for 2004 after she relayed the following story:

at her parents house, wearing clothes with no pockets, she sits down to pee. then, *plunk*, a nickle falls in the john.

she says, adjusting her coif, "it must have come out of my hair."

um. somehow i'm thinking no. and having a good time slipping quarters into her thigh-highs when she's not paying attention.

and i don't really know what to say now.

it's definitely a new year. i feel very awake even though it's four thirty and i'm still wearing my pajamas. waiting for the hot water to rebuild so i can shower forever.

lisa's back from maine. there are home baked chocolate chip cookies on the counter. the sun's out. i'm listening to lemon jelly and it is a new year. it is a new year. it is.

i just watched next stop, wonderland with sarahk and it reminds me that no matter how long you've been riding the train, you never know when the push of the crowd will make you realize, next stop, wonderland. and you just forget about brazil and stop to admire the beauty of the sea. and take a walk.

i've got more to say, things which may or may not make more sense, but i think i'll tell it to the shower.

happy new year. hope yours is starting out as interesting as mine.