Tuesday, April 30, 2002

Late entry from 4/23/2002:

I was looking for a friend of mine in a bar. I saw a guy that we both knew and asked him if he'd seen my friend. He said no and smiled, holding up a pocketwatch I'd given my friend. I asked the guy how he got the watch. He said my friend traded it to him. I asked him angrily, "for what?" He smiled and rubbed his stomache. "For food?" I asked incredulously, "he traded it for $90 worth of food?" "About $60 worth..." the guy said. I knew he was lying. Angrily, I pulled out a wad of money and counted out about $47-$50 (mostly in foreign bills). "Here's $50, mostly Canadian, now give me back the fucking watch." "You son of a bitch," I continued, "Instead of helping a guy who's down, instead of giving him $20 for a hamburger, you relieved him of a watch I gave him." I slapped him on the head and demanded the watch. he looked very guilty, not contrite but a little afraid. I continued fuming, "Let me wait until you're down and out and buy the shoes off your fee, you son of a bitch."

Susannah was the there with me the whole time except she looked like a nondescript brunette.

Monday, April 29, 2002

Late entry from 4/21/2002:

I moved into an apartment in a large building with 2 other guys ( a white guy and Don Cheadle). I was getting settled and talking to them about bugs. The white guy asked me what I expected in terms of bugs. I said "I just don't want them crawling in my food." I woman I knew from my past came to visit Don. I tapped her on the shoulder from behind and she seemed surprised and happy to see me.

After she visited with Don, she came back to me. We hugged and flirted a bit and finally started kissing. Then she had to go for some reason (she seemed to feel guilty). She left and I headed for the bathroom to masturbate. Don beat me to the bathroom so I went to the bedroom instead. I saw the woman in the window (expect now I was the woman and she was Don Cheadle). I let her in the window and we were about to start making out when the police stormed in to arrest her/me (I kept switching from being her to me to Don). Apparently, I'd been set up by Don (who acted out of jealousy).

As I was being taken away, the scene changes to a place where celebrities were being "treated." There were many famous people (like Glenn Close) trying to transform their bodies. They were all lying on beds, some with liquid of fruit covering their bodies. Some of them were invisible until liquids were poured on them.

Another patient was talking to his therapist who told him that he couldn't do the transformation he requested. Instead, he could cut a joint into his vertebrae so he could move in rhythm to some music that was playing. he also said something about his "jazz" center having been removed.

Perspectives changed and I was now holding the patient's dismembered head in my hands. He had dark, slicked-back hair with small twists/flourishes in it.
Late entry from 3/15/2002:

I'm holding some guy prisoner in a room with a glass door. There are several boxes full of weapons in the room. I ask someone quietly if any of them are loaded. The person said they belong to (so & so) and might be loaded. I opened the door and held theprisoner at gunpoint with a really large pistol. As others tried to move the weapons out, the prisoner tried to do something. Jeff Tule (ex-coworker from Amoeba) came along with a pistol. I asked him if it was loaded. He said yes and I took it from him and fired it at the prisoner. the gun jammed several times and the prisoner walked out calmly, then took off running. The streets were in total chaos as I tried to yell for police (or anyone) to help me. There were so many people running around that nobody paid me any mind.


It felt like the end of the world (or a world war or some natural disaster). I walked down the street with lots of other people. Susannah calls me, sounding very upset. I tell her we can go to Palestine or Israel, that we have friends in both places. She says she doesn't know if we can make it that far. I ask her where she is now. She says (so & so) street, just past Ashkenaz Street. I tell her I'm up the street from her and will meet her. She said she's just crossed the street and ditched the large bag. She also said that she's the tallest person on the street.

I look down the hill and see her carrying a small bag and a large roll that looks like a bolt of fabric or a rolled-up blueprint. We see each other and smile. We're crying as we hug and I want to say "This is the worst day of my life." But as I look around and see so many other people struggling and crying, I decide it's a stupid thing to say.

Friday, April 26, 2002

Late entry from 3/9/2002:

I'm on a second story roof and I'm trying to get down. I jump onto the back of a semi (which looks like a firetruck) and before I can hop off, it takes off. I hang on while banging on the side. The driver, a black woman, sees me and turns the truck around and heads back toward a parking lot. She goes into a store and comes out with a small table (with a black man helping her). I jump onto teh table, then down to the ground, apologizing the whole way.

I end up riding on the truck/firetruck (now a bus). It was a coin/card slot like regular NYC buses.

Later, I'm at David Letterman's house with Ben Compton & Melissa (from UK). ben talks about Dave picking up a Sunny Day Real Estate album and liking it. I go into another room and Ben had a tuned a made-for-punk guitar. I strummed it and it sounded very loud. I say "I didn't know you had it plugged in." I also notice little pads between the strings that made percussion sounds. I ask Ben "You can do your own percussion with this?" Yup, he says. I attempt in vain to strum out a tune.

Wednesday, April 24, 2002

Late entry from 3/8/2002:

I'm in a high-school-like situation trying to get set up with a guy (I'm a woman in her 30s or 40s named Jane -modeled after Jane Kaczmarek). I'm talking to a large black woman about getting her set up with this black guy she likes in exchange for a favor for me.

Later, at home, the woman comes to the door looking for me. I hide outside and listen as my husband answers the door. Not knowing where I am, he doesn't let the woman in.

Outside the house, I watch from behind some bushes as the black woman walks to her minivan to leave. I also see the guy I like (a retarded-ish version of Campbell Scott). he walks toward hsi truck and sees me in the bushes. He walks slowly toward me, smiling shyly.

I see my husband (looks like Kevin Kline) coming out of the house toward us. He seems suspicious as he greets the other guy, asking him what he's doing here.

Meanwhile, a grandfatherly person also comes out the house with 3 or 4 young black girls in tow. Apparently, they are related to me somehow (adopted?).

The Campbell Scott guys greets them all affectionately.
Late entry from 3/7/2002

Me, 3 male friends and one female friend (friends from high school) are in an arcade killing time. As we wander around looking at all the old games, they all cram themselves behind a game and make a lot of noise. I tell them I don't want to get kicked out of here. They tell me not to worry and that there are plenty of places like this. I say "that's not the point." Then the security guard starts noticing us. The female friend (Sarah Durant?) and one male friend get called over by the guard. After some commotion, Sarah comes away with a piece of paper, stunned. The paper is a warrant or summons to go to jail. I get extremely angry at the 3 guys for getting her into trouble and start calling for them to come outside so I could confront them. Outside the glass doors, I fling my backpack (full of CDs) against the wall and scream at them to face me. They start to retreat into the crowd and I follow. Not being able to catch them, I hold up Sarah (who's now unconscious) over my head (by her legs) and yell for the guys. I'm standing in a crowd outside. There's a cute hapa girl who's listening sympathetically to me yell.

Eventually I faint, falling between the hapa girl's feet. She decides to take me in her convertible to look for the guys.