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My respect for my fellow man suffered even more from the many sights and sounds I beheld.

nother grey, rainy day. I repeat myself, but so the fuck does God. What the hell good is an almighty creator with the imagination of a respected politician and the goodwill of Henry Lee Lucas?

The rain had stopped by the end of my Comet shift, just in time for another big dumb football game at the University. I suppose this could be construed as a demonstration of whose side God is really on. Anyway, I rode my bicycle through the fringe of the drunken throng on my way to check some nagging little things about my website. Let me just say, my respect for my fellow man suffered even more from the many sights and sounds I beheld. Those in the demographic groups attending football games might as well be space aliens, as different as they are from me in virtually all respects. I felt mild physical discomfort to see a brutish phalanx of drunken fratboys crossing the road, pausing arrogantly in the middle to block the path of an unknown oncoming motorist.

Yes sir, this is evidence of a girl in this town keeping an online journal.

All the computer labs near the stadium were closed, so I had to venture as far as Cocke Hall to get my internet access. Look what I just found on this machine's hard drive! Yes sir, this is evidence of a girl in this town keeping an online journal. What's cool about this particular girl is that she knows, loathes, and somewhat desires Monster Boy. I'm intrigued.

Maybe I've just outgrown pseudo-science fiction.

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t Kappa Mutha Fucka all evening, the crowd consisted of me, Deya and Nicholas the Kitten and several glasses of vodkatea. We watched the X Files, and I have nothing much to say about it. I think I've outgrown science fiction. Maybe I've just outgrown pseudo-science fiction. Scully and Mulder, partly for their Wizard of Ozness, continue to remind me of my relationship with Jessika. I don't know why I felt the need to say that.

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s Deya continued work on her big cardboard robot, I slipped out and rode my bicycle to Abundance House, where Cory the Former Coffee Cart Girl was having a small little birthday celebration. Yes, she's a Scorpio, a 23 year old one at that.

I've noticed that Sonic Youth is often considered "cross-over music" when punk rockers hang out with hippies.

First I bought a bottle of vino at the JPA Fastmart, then I followed a screwy, somewhat drunken trajectory through a maze of cul-du-sacs that lie to the north, ending up on the railroad tracks leading to Shamrock Avenue. The geography in this part of Charlottesville has never made any sense to me. It's as if some sort of tear in the fabric of space runs through the neighborhoods there. The only thing that seems to hold it all together is the railway.

The small gathering at Abundance House consisted of all the regulars: the vegan kids, Monster Boy, Elizabeth, Catherine DeGood and Diohji, as well as a few extraneous extras. The festivities were typical for the setting: vegan Lasagna had been prepared, and it was served as part of a multi-course meal with Franz seeing to it that people took their courses in the proper order. Well before we ate, though, we drank to excess. I wanted to stick with vino, but Cory kept shoving cups of thick brown Jagermeister at me. She was taking shots of it and becoming rapidly intoxicated. Jagermeister is okay with me, but I prefer to think of it as something you sip.

I found conversation at the party unusually interesting for some reason. Perhaps this was related to the fact that I was interacting with a fairly large group all at once, in a way that is impossible at larger parties because of the background din.

Speaking of background din, the music tonight ranged from Sonic Youth to Ravi Shankar. For some reason, I've noticed that Sonic Youth is often considered "cross-over music" when punk rockers hang out with hippies. For the record, this is not to make generalizations about any of the individuals who were present.

After that, mostly all she did was talk about a desire to puke.

Later on, a handful of us (including Cory, Elizabeth, Franz, Kirstin the Eco-radical, Monster Boy, Catherine D., Diohji, and Ben the teenaged Abundance Housian) drove to the new bar on Elliewood called The Buddhist Biker for drinks. We sat outside in the relatively warm evening air and continued drinking. Most of us had beers, but Cory had a complimentary double shot of Jagermeister from Jeremy the bartender. After that, mostly all she did was talk about a desire to puke. She never did though.

Those of us spending the night at Abundance House (including Monster Boy and me but not Franz) walked all the way back there. We took a secret ninja path through the hospital grounds, and that trimmed a great deal of distance from our trek. It was a scene right out of the Wizard of Oz; we held hands as a group in a way that drinking occasionally permits.

It must be the roadtrip I'm planning; everything I experience seems to be an outtake from the Wizard of Oz.

one year ago

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