May 11th, 2005


A Day of Rest...

Tuesday morning came early, but I was happy to walk out the door of The Evil Empire
at 6 PM instead of Midnight.

The heat itself has not hit hard yet, but the humidity has embraced us.
My block and a half to the bus stop in all black, left me sticky and tired.
The "Agricultural Burning" in Mexico has begun--and our skies are grey.

I cannot help but align all of this to the heavy sense of despair that seems
to be cloaking those closest to me, here.

Donya called me Monday afternoon....before I went to work.
She called to see "how I was"--I knew why she'd called.
No, Donya--HOW ARE YOU?

feels like someone died.

My heart sank. Further.
I looked at the clock, and blew off my bus.
I knew she needed to talk.
I would call a cab.

I listened.
Sometimes that is what-you-are-for.
No advice, no comment, just the nod.....
The ear.

Finally, I had to tell her I had to go.
I was going to be late if I did not call for my chariot.

I put the phone down and then picked it up--
dialing the numbers I can find blind.
They sent a Yellow, my way.

I sat on the curb downstairs, tugging on a cigarette.
My stomach doing flips.
A lump in my throat.

I am careful not to say there is design
to the Universe.....but there is certainly symmetry.
My driver was shiny.

One of the rare 'She's' in the Cab-Force....
And reminded me of some of my bestfriend's Mom's
over the years.......That I loved.
Her cab smelled of flowers--not perfume.
She was a blonde in her late forties--and chatted cheerfully.

She was disappointed, having recently traded her car
for a Handicapable-Van, that no one was able yet
to give her the training
she required to be certified to pick up folks who needed the ramp
and space, she had in back.

She confided in me that she had picked someone up anyway,
but hadn't charged them--thinking maybe that way she wasn't
breaking the law.

*ginger's lump subsides a bit and is replaced by a smile*

We talked about Austin...
She told me about the last job she had....
She thought she would retire from there.
But there had been lay offs after new owners came in.
She trained her replacements.

Not an Original Story.
An all too Common Story....

But she seemed less bitter, than baffled.
And spoke of the young woman who replaced her...
as being someone who needed the work.
My driver, she could find something else--but that girl....

*ginger smiles*

She dropped me off, and I asked if I could run in and get her
a coffee or anything....


I waved, she waved.

I started my Monday.
Feeling grim even after that....
And then woke up and started my Tuesday.

It, as I say, ended early....and I made my way Home.

Last night I was back in my neighborhood by 7 PM.
Ran some errands.
And then came back to the flat, stripped out of my heavy sticky clothes,
and poured a bubbly glass of mineral water--and crawled into futon.

And slept.
And slept.
And slept.

I've done that for most of Today as well.

My Day Off...

  • Current Music
    Anything Could Happen

Took a long HOT shower....

Shaved my legs .

(always an event)

Held the scissors up to my wet fringe and spit curls...
but did a Fonzie.

(gads, that sounds like a euphamisim, it isn't.)

Japanese "yuzu" lotion on my legs.
(i found it at CM, reminds me of Okinawa)
Germany purchased (Bill's Mom)
round blue tinned NIVEA creme into my scrubbed face.
(i swear, it's different than the stuff in the States.)
Berry Blossom Teen Spirit Stick, under my arms.
(bite me, it smells neat-o, like candy.)

And I say I'm not a Girl???


I'm a girl.
  • Current Music
    The Old Masquerade

Were is it WRITTEN.......

Someone asks me for something that should be so simple.

I plink plink plunk through what is recorded HERE...
give up.
It happened long before this device, though it has been
re-recorded here many times.

Pull out the BOOKs....

::turns page, turns page, turns page::

I have shelves of pages.

Boxes of pages, on shelves I cannot reach.

Boxes locked on the floor, full of pages.

transientsoul--can I just TELL you a Story?
Of my Michael and my Steven931...

Ginger Stevens, Michael Savacool, and Steven Sherer were BEST Friends.
They lived in Redlands Southern California.
It was early 1991.
When one could still ride 'bitch', on a Vespa ride
through Blooming Orange Groves.
(ginger wasn't 21 yet)

They never went anywhere without each other.

One late night while drinking cheap coffee in Denny's,
off Alabama street, in Redlands California....
they decided to get a paper route.

Michael had an old white VW Bus....
We could throw papers from THERE!!!

(we all had jobs, we all had school. we ALL drank too much cheap coffee.)

Our "gig" didn't last two weeks.
We'd stay up until we had to get the papers....
Michael and Steven doing timed head stands outside
the warehouse.
(i timed them)
And then we loaded the papers into the Bus....
and went out on the road.

(honestly--I don't think we ever got paid for this,
but that is fine, because we NEVER actually DID the job.)

Michael's Bus had a tape deck.
But it was rigged by Michael himself.
So it didn't have a VOLUME control.

Bus not running.


We had a THEME tape we always played.

yeah, I know...."most people don't own it."

We threw papers.

With BLEACH blaring out of the Bus, at O'Dark Thirty...
The door open.

Steven and Michael took turns
at the wheel.
I was the one who tossed the papers
from the back up to the one by the Door.

I remember the night Steven fell out.

*laughs, holds herself, laughs*

We thought he was DEAD!!!

He wasn't, he rolls well.

I don't think we EVER threw them to the right houses.

The last morning we did it.........
We drove out far, up on top of this Hill.
After we were done.

We all three, leaned on the front bumper
of our Bus............
and watched the SUN come up.

Watched it rise.

We were very silent.
Michael said he wished he had a camera.

Then the two of them punched at each other
and ran down the hill....through high brown grass
and thorns......

Whipping off their shirts along the way...

I stood.
I watched.

With Them,
sometimes that was what I did.

But I wouldn't be left behind.

I tore mine off, and followed.

We hiked around this thin little stream of water, stomping
and climbing.

I was itchy and tired and....

I stomped along too.

Sweaty and covered in thorns and bugs and scratches...
we made our way back up the hill.

Finding our shirts.

Finding our Bus.

For the life of me.
I cannot remember the drive home.

Just every ray of that sunrise.
Driven into my brain.

We weren't drinkers of drink, back then.
(oh it happened on occasion, but it was rare)
We didn't do drugs........

We just SMOKED cigarettes like chimneys.

And drank coffee like fiends.

The Salad Days.
  • Current Music
    Time Has Told Me--Nick Drake