New York City.

Jul 21, 2001
Prologue:
Some time ago I was messaged by a woman while downloading massive Superchunk bootlegs from her. For about a year we chit-chatted on and off. The woman was Julie. Julie lived in New York City. When I planned my trip home, Julie offered me her couch if I came down for the Siren Festival. I accepted the offer.

I woke up, and with a lump in my throat, took to the highway en-route to New York City. I had never driven in the city before. It was a bit daunting. Entering the city was a marvel in itself. On the drive in, for twenty minutes, every fifteen seconds I was compelled to exclaim, "Holy shit, that's BIG!", upon seeing a building, the city itself, a bridge, a highway, a billboard. Despite insanely dangerous traffic, I arrived. I met Julie at a street corner, she directed me to a parking lot, and we walked to a bar where she was celebrating her going-to-Seattle party.

At the bar I inbibed a tasty beer or two, hammed it up with her friends, basked in the supreme coolness of my surroundings, and tried my best to catch my breath. We played with Julie's digital camera and small yellow ducks. (pictures coming soon hopefully).

After that we headed back to Julie and her husband Paul's apartment with half the crowd that was at the bar. We sat and talked and ate birthday cake, (Oh yeah, it was Julie's birthday too!), and watched Spinal Tap on DVD. I slept on one of those foam-mat type things like in gym class. It was very comfortable. I laid up and read "Island" and occasionally took breaks to watch the goings-on outside their window on the streets below. I discovered that the whole "city that never sleeps" thing isin't true after all. It just doesn't sleep AT NIGHT. ;-) Like me.

The next morning we went for egg sandwiches at a neighborhood convenience store and ate them on benches in Central Park. We witnessed an entertaining spat between a couple of homeless people, narrowly avoided being shit on by a pigeon, watched and talked about dogs walking by, and sipped on our coffee.

Bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, we caught the F-train (subway) to Coney Island for the rock show. We saw Enon, Peaches, Rainer Maria, Man or Astroman?, and Superchunk. The last three were VERY good. During the Superchunk set, Mac wished Julie a happy birthday. That was special. :) I was really surprised that the crowd wasn't more mobile than it was. Everybody around me basically stood still, or may have bobbed their heads, while I appeared to be going into an epileptic fit of pogo-ing and rock-show-induced physical excitement. How can somebody NOT dance to Superchunk? I don't get it. Maybe it was because it was hella hot. Who knows. And it WAS hella hot too.

My eyes were really bothering me and we were completely wiped out from the five hours of sweltering heat and music, so we headed back to the apartment. Julie wrote me out very good directions, I picked up my car at the lot, and three hours later I was back in bad-old Albany.

Just outside of Albany I called Tim up. It ringed his phone, but he didn't answer so I left a message. I invited him to Quintesence to dance to some excellent techno/house music. Jennifer Haley was spinning, after all. Quintesence was right next door to Valentines, so I thought I'd poke my head in there first to see what was happening. I heard a band playing. I handed the guy at the door a five dollar bill, and he handed me back a five dollar bill. He thought I gave him a ten. Woohoo! Good thing too, because the band there sucked ass. I would have hated to have spent ca$hola on that.

I went next door to "Q" and met up with Jennifer. We hammed it up about old times and the future of the Albany scene, and painting. I danced my ass off, and then THOROUGHLY exhausted headed to Tim's house in Schenectady. We planned on my sleeping there that night. I took the wrong highway and ended up near a rifle range near Rotterdam. I had studied marksmanship in highschool. My instructer was Sgt. Dowgas. When I realized that I was close to the range I felt compelled to drive down the country road to see it again. When I awoke the next day my mother told me that Sgt. Dowgas had died a few weeks ago. That was the first time I was back there in 6 years.

It turns out he just fell asleep somewhere. I drove all the way home to my parent's house in Schaghticoke. I fell asleep in the back seat of the Oldsmobile in their driveway. I woke up in a pool of sweat, moved to a cot in the back yard, and finished my beauty rest. When I awoke my mother told me that Sgt. Dowgas had died a few weeks earlier. It's crazy coincidences like that that make me suspect that there is more to the world than meets the eye. I am crazy rested now. Yay.

A few days ago I agreed to go steady (and exclusively) with Natasha. I'm all crazy and insecure and freaked out and I hate it. I don't trust the world to behave consistently, I don't trust other people not to flake out, and I don't trust myself. I get posessive and aggressive and angry. After the painful romantic relationships that I have been in, I guess that I learned how to be happy without being vulnerable. And now I'm vulnerable again. The water-tight doors have been opened, and the stupid ugly emotions are all a-swirl. I hate it.

On a related note, I am debating which way to go with this site. This site, for me, has been an exposition of vulnerability. It has been a vehicle by which to bring my innermost thoughts and emotions up to the surface, and even more than that, to make them public. This leaves little to the imagnation, which was the point, after all. For somebody to be able to spend some time here, reading my thoughts, and get a pretty good idea about who I am. Well apparently, people are more excited by mystery and superficial cockyness. So I am considering removing large chunks of this site that express my vulnerability. This includes most of my poetry, and select other writings. So enjoy them while they last, because they will be gone soon.