Sometimes it seems as if: one purpose for rain is to clear people from the streets.

I


n case you've forgotten, I'd spent the night in the big brick Jeffersonian mansion that lies anomalously in the hood off 9th Street (some distance south of Cherry Avenue). That's where the likes of Jenfariello, Ami Sage, and Sam live. Last night had been Sam's birthday party.

It's a good thing I'm such good friends with Ami and Cory or this situation would have been intolerable.

It's not such a big deal to be homeless if you end up crashing in someones bed at a weekend party such as last night's. I'm not implying by this that there was anything like comfort in my life as I lay wedged like a salamander between Ami Sage and Cory the Coffee Cart Girl. The problem was that there were still four people in Ami's bed; in addition to those mentioned, Seth Alecko was on the far side of Ami. It's a good thing I'm such good friends with Ami and Cory or this situation would have been intolerable. Interestingly, though the people on the ends (Seth and Cory) seemed to be sleeping just fine, all Ami and I could do was toss and turn.

After we all got up and began curing our hangovers with water, Jen, Ami and Cory discussed some of the Two Moons Burritos gossip. They all work there, and half the employees had attended last night's party. All the names mentioned were unfamiliar to me. But the intrigue was palpable. It's all based on various girls having crushes on various other girls.

In other things, Jen says that the neighborhood kids are in the habit of coming to visit. She's teaching them that they need to knock. They mostly want to come and look at the kittens. The crazy pregnant siamese that used to live with Jen and Ami on Wertland has had her kittens and now lives with them at the mansion.

The sky was bruised with clouds and from these heavy rains occasionally fell throughout the day. I went with Jenfariello and Ami to the Preston Avenue Bodo's Bagels and we bought a large number of bagels for ourselves and Jen and Ami's housemates. Neither had any money ("oops!, I forgot my wallet!") so I had to pay for it all.

B


ack at the big brick Jeffersonian mansion, others were stirring. These were mostly hippie types to whom I have never been introduced. They may be housemates of those I do know, but who knows? I think they were really stoned, because they kept laughing and babbling. The acoustics in the dining room permit so much echo that I could barely understand what one of the hippies was saying. His giggles persisted long after he'd moved on to talking, and just as he became understandable he'd begin to giggle again.

During an intense downpour, Ami and I sat on the back porch and watched the clogged gutters overflowing and spilling with a roar like Niagara onto the ground in front of us. She climbed under it and drenched herself, then went off to take a real shower.

I explored the botany in the back yard. The most remarkable plant that I found was a Devil's Walkingstick, a thorny shrub related to ginseng (and, more distantly) celery.

The rain had calmed, so I walked back to the Corner. It was less of a hike than I'd expected. One has to walk through some pretty creepy neighborhoods, however. No doubt that's why Jen and company are paying only about $150 each for each month's rent.

I took a nice long nap at 22 Elliewood and slept soundly. That was one of the most refreshing naps I have ever taken.

Evan, the network engineer, entered the DNS information necessary for my Tussin.com domain name. The bill from Internic came in the mail the other day, and I haven't looked at it yet. But I very much do want to have that domain name.

They'd want to handle my food with their grubby fingers and have a bite.

T


he Brazilian Girls and the Gutter Punks were coming as a dark force up University as I hit the streets. They are my friends, so I felt compelled to hang out with them. But again it was an annoyance to endure the body odour, the cigarette smoke, and the absolutely dreadful incessant screachy angry barking of BN ("Butt Noodles"), Toni Dirtbag's scruffy little stub-tailed mutt. Conditions improved somewhat with the arrival of the Monster Boy and Deya, people with whom I feel a more human connection. Even so, the concept of simply "hanging out" on the Corner seemed so utterly pointless that I found myself running little solo hedonistic errands for coffee and pizza. God forbid me consuming anything in front of the Gutter Punks. They'd want to handle my food with their grubby fingers and have a bite. Not that they weren't willing to share their Mad Dog with me. Maybe I'm getting overly hygienic in my old age, but I'd just rather not share a bottle with anyone who smells like that.

Later, it was just me, the Brazilian Girls, the weirdo post-goth Dempsey, Deya and Monster Boy. Cecelia was looking like a nun, except that her habit (a cloak her mother had sewn for her) was made of dark green cloth.

We sat in a storefront and thus avoided the rain. Deya and I both drank fruit juice dilutions of vodka but that had at best a mild effect upon us. I kept pointing out that this was the last night of our homelessness and that God had sent the rains to make us appreciate our home all the more once we finally got it.

When it was down to just Deya, Monster Boy and me, we went to visit Ana and Nemo over on High Street. We chatted quietly while Nemo snored remarkably loudly for a one year old.

Deya returned Monster Boy and me to the Corner and then set off for Scottsville. I did some work at Cocke Hall and then slept at 22 Elliewood while Monster Boy slept over at Dempsey's above the old Follette's Bookstore.

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