About 3 weeks ago I flew back in time a few hours and then our pilot spied the spot where the mountains and the ocean come together and knew it was time to land. So land we did, and now here I am in California.Things that have happened since I've arrived?? Not too much. I went to stay with a boy named Jamie who came highly recommended by a certain gang of Asians I sometimes run with. We got on fabulously (when we weren't haggling like old women over who got to use his bicycle) talking long and late of drugs, DJs, and dharma. I then left him to move into a warehouse space I fell in love with.
The space and I are still in the throes-of-passion stage of our relationship. Unfortunately, my feelings towards my roommates are much more tepid. They are pretty chill, very neat, smell pretty, and own lots of useful things like blenders, toaster ovens, and garlic presses. But they are not the most imaginative of people. Which, is sort of what I moved out here for: imaginative people. I keep telling myself that, once I make friends of my own, the normality of my roommates will matter not. However, whenever I go to Berkeley Bowl and see the army of weirdos that work/shop there my tummy gives me funny sensations which I think are telling me that I am lying to myself. But then I think about how
I could fit a baby elephant into my warehouse, and I feel conflicted. I kind of wish that a cracken would just rise out of the East Bay and consume my roommates, forcing me to recruit replacements. I would find people who could install a trapeze, and would would want to use the space for painting, trampolining, screen printing, bike repairing, anything except furnituring. Which, unless I act fast, is probably what is going to happen. But maybe I underestimate them...Elizabeth did install a darkroom.......But enough about them. More about me. I also found a job. This is good as I have been laying down scary sums of cash. I am a barback/hostess at a small mexican joint. Again, I feel slightly conflicted. Hostesses are girls with day jobs that like boys with tats and problems. So they decide to work at a bar/restaurant twice a
week to get closer proximity. Barbacks are the girls WITH the tats and the problems. So now I am both. I guess this means I am going to start masterbating a lot more.So I guess right now I am still sort of transitioning between my East Coast self and my new West Coast self. The worlds I am bridging are pretty different. But I think there is only one I am in love with. So I guess I'm just gonna have to ask that fucker to dance!
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