Wednesday, August 20, 2008

It's too late to eat dinner. Does a banana count? I'm driving to Portland tomorrow and my kayak has been on top of my car for TWO DAYS collecting the proverbial downpour. I bet there are fish up there swimming around. I'll just slosh my way to Portland, how's that?

I packed Sarah Vaughn and Dead Can Dance and Beethoven's 9th and Astral Weeks, Van Morrison's finest album, made when he was 12 or something. The guy is a genius with zero stage presence, none at all. He stands there stiffly, like someone has a gun pointed at his head.

Last night I had a rageful dream. I was lava, the red haze, about to explode. When I woke this AM, I went for a run and with every step I was thinking,'I hate you, I hate you.' Whoa, I didn't even have anyone in mind, and then my brother floated in. So I hated him for a while, for killing himself, for being a jerk and killing himself. Then I started crying so by the time I got home, I couldn't see very well. It was raining but I threw myself face down on the grass and hollered for a while, clutching the dirt. Neighbors were walking by but I didn't care if they heard me. Finally, I sat up, wiped the snot off and went in the house. Time to start the day!

A bee stung me on the upper arm and it itches like crazy. I put ice on it and that helps. I think the bees are mad at me for making a scene. I like bees! I come in peace! I'm not mad at THEM.

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