We got to the opera house with time to spare and spent the 45 minutes waiting for the show to start people watching and career guessing. Truly a menagerie of a crowd. Seemed like it was all ages. Well thankfully no babies, but it appeared we weren't the only teens attending this shin dig. We did seem to be the only ones not in tow of our parents though. The average age I'd hazard to guess was in the forties or early fifties. I'm guessing this singer had been around for a while. Fashion wise there were the spattering of suits and evening gowns. Probably season ticket holders. Predominantly it seemed there was a sea of black, complete with a cadre of old school Goths who looked old enough to have attended school with the rents. Kind of funny looking at forty something worker bees awash in white and black makeup framed by plush purple and black velvet and lace. One woman who caught my eye seemed to defy gravity what with heals that could have been a yard long. I was excited but no longer so nervous, my hand didn't even clamify when it felt Solange's soft hand grasp it.
The lights dimmed and with it the chatter of concert goers faded away like an ebbing tide. Up walked Diamanda. Striking in black with a sharp defiant face. She sat at the concert grand adjusted the microphone and stretched her fingers caressing the keys. Without a word of warning she lashed into the keys and began screaming, sending notes reverberating against the walls and skulls of concert goers such as Solange and myself. It was horrific, crazy, loud. It was wonderful. My mouth stretched wide in a gaping smile, my hand tenderly clenched Solange's and i began to feel tingly all over. I think I might have been shaking, perhaps with same vibration as the piano's strings. Solange was shaking too. I looked over at her to see her smiling in awe her eyes glistening with joy. I'd swear we were shaking as one. I had never felt physically moved by sounds before then. As the sound grew stronger, I began to feel funny and was afraid I'd fall asleep and miss the rest of the concert.
I didn't fall asleep. Or atleast don't think I did. Something greater happened. As I looked at Solange, she looked toward me and was about to say something when we both blinked.
Blinking to find ourselves, voila, elsewhere in what appeared to be a hospital, with Diamanda crouched over a bed where a man lay.
Solie gasped "Sacre Bleu! It's happened!" She spun around and swept me into her arms and kissed me. A true kiss, this wasn't the friendly kiss I'd been graced with before but rather a passionate kiss that filled my entire self lips to toe to head with warmth. You'd think that trigger a return to the present but no.
We remained in the hospital and I felt more physically there in the elsewhen than I had ever felt before.
Eureka, we had done it, Solange had followed me to another time and place and I was too ecstatic to speak.
Friday, January 14, 2011
Sunday, January 9, 2011
THE BEST DAY OF MY LIFE
Solange had already been up and about when I awoke the next morning. Waking up was a pleasant experience, helped by the site of Solange's morning smile and the strong smelling red eye she offered along with the sourdough bread and brie Solange had packed for the trip. While she wasn't in any particular hurry, the concert wasn't for another thirteen hours or so and San Fran was only ninety minutes away, Solange hinted that she wanted to get a move on and hustled me towards the bathroom. So reluctantly I opted for gulping rather than savoring the French Roast and made do with a quick shower. Once clean and looking sharp in the black turtle neck, slacks and Doc Martins Solange told me to wear, we floored it to SF. Solie had planned much to my pleasant surprise on some more fun tourista stuff figuring it was about time i see present day San Francisco rather than the pasts I had had the opportunity to explore.
We walked on the Golden Gate bridge which was fabulous. Solange looked, well she looked like a sexy sprite with her hair blowing being framed by a blue and umber hilly coast line. We didn't cross the bridge, just walked about half way before turning back. When we stopped, Solange remained quiet and just gazed at the vista. I must admit I was staring more at Solange rather than the beautiful horizon. Anyway with the view and the smell of the sea air and the rythmic sound of cars passing I truly felt at peace then. Serene. Until I fell asleep and found myself still on the bridge watching someone stand precariously on the edge. I shouted "Don't Jump!" Thinking about it I probably should have kept my mouth shut, I startled the chap so much he lost his balance and toppled down into the Pacific. Wonder where the bodies end up. Funny how it doesn't seem like the papers report on plunging activities of the Golden Gate. 'California hear i come, right back where i started from, gonna plunge of yer golden gates.' When I came back to the present, I was ready to head back to the car.
The rest of the day we managed to hit North Beach, browsing books at City Lights and listening to Arias on the juke box while sipping lattes Trieste, two places as cool in present as the times I'd seen them in the past. Solange dived into Vesuvio's for a drink, but I didn't risk it not feeling I could pass for a twenty one year old. We both enjoyed a PBR across the street at Specs though. I think they'd serve anyone there, I swear I think one of the patrons was a lil corky dog. Loved the decor of the place and felt comfortable clinking glasses with a jovial Solange who seemed to get more excited about the concert awaiting us as the day rolled by at a pleasant pace.
We also went to Golden Gate Park and Haight and Ashbury. Loved the park, but could have done without gawking at the Haight, seemed like a puposefully dirty and stinky mecca of a mall geared exclusively toward the gawking tourists who tromped around there. Hate to rant but just have to say i believe picculi is the foulest scent ever to be warn by a human being. I'll take body odor any day over that putrid aroma.
We spent the rest of the day wandering the Fillmore area, and then eating around the civic center. I think i loved that area of the city the most what with all the old government buildings play houses bastions of wealth interspersed with the hordes of homeless asking for change, prostitutes turning tricks and junkies looking for a fix.
It was really a great day the best I ever had, and was still very jazzed when it was time to see Diamanda perform.
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
I am the passenger and I ride and I ride . . .Oh, let's ride and ride and ride . . .
The thought of a road trip . . . Well it excited me to no end. I was also admittedly scared. The thought of spending a weekend sans the safe surroundings of SLOville filled me with trepidation. Granted, the idea of spending a weekend alone with Solange also filled me with butterflies. I was so sated nerves wise that I don't really recall eating anything at all. Wonder if you could massage that feeling and sell it as a new fad diet, nah no way to package it I guess.
Of course. the first hurdle was getting my parents' "Okay." This seemed insurmountable to me. I had never really lied to the folks before. Never had a reason to, save of course the lie of abstentia keeping my travels to myself. I hadn't any friends who's home I could claim I was sleeping over for the weekend. My only friend at the moment was Solie I guess, since I think I already considered Solie a friend and believe she felt the same, but I couldn't very well ask to sleep over at a girl's place. Nor was I a badge toting boy scout with camping outings every month or so.
Any lie worth swallowing truly escaped me. I told Solange this trying not to sound as uncool as I felt, "I guess you'll have to go ahead and see Diamond without me."
"Diamanda, not Diamond, Diamanda Galas. Totally different sound, although checking out a sequined Neil would be fun." Solange replied nonplussed. "I see your predicament. Still I'm sure we can take care of it, relax. Your rents know you've been hanging out with me and I get the gender snafu, but you can tell them you've been invited by me and the family to come with us to Santa Barbara for a swim meet. "
"They'd want to talk to your parents I'm sure." I contradicted a bit too tiredly.
"You are a newbie to this teenage rite of passage aren't you." Solange said with a smile. She patted my head as if I were a little tyke with a scraped knee, "You'll give your verwandte Crash's number telling them it's mi poppa."
"Crash would lie for me?"
"Well I don't see why not. It's not like we're asking that he take a bullet for us. Besides, if you think about it he's also lying for me as I'm the one that wants your company, and I know for a fact that Crash has no problem lying for lil ol moi."
After my fears were appeased, the plan was explained to Crash whom quickly smiled at the idea. Chuckling, Crash playfully hit my shoulder saying "Be glad to aid and abet a worthy adventure! Where will you be staying? Is Jed here gonna luck out and share a hotel room with a woman? Do I see any base running in your future?"
Solange hit Crash's shoulder in return "Haven't figured out where we'll crash Crash. If it ends up being a hotel bed I'm sure Jed will be a perfect gentleman. Doubt there will be any base running of any sorts, neither of us care a wit about sports." Solange replied with a twinkle completely ignoring the crass innuendo.
I, on the other hand, couldn't ignore it and was beet red, nearly as purple as Solange's hair and dead silent. Spending time alone with Solange was nothing new, but the thought of spending the night with her hadn't really clicked until Crash hit me over the head with it.
After an hour of so of razzing from Crash with a tickling from Rob and some patiently served repeats of what I should tell my parents from Solange, I was fortified enough to face those whom feed and cloth me.
It was alot easier than I expected. Simple really. They were actually excited and made happy by the thought that I had made friends with someone enough to be asked along for a family weekend. They did call Crash to confirm. It was hard for me to not burst out laughing hysterically when I heard them praise how much of an upstanding man Solange's father sounded to be.
The days leading up to the adventure were painfully long. I could hardly think of anything but what it would be like to drive up north with Solange. I'd never been in San Francisco my time, and I was interested to see what north beach was like. I was looking forward to hitting North Beach if we had time, where I could go to City Lights without 'haunting it' and try sipping an espresso at Trieste while listening to arias on the juke box. Well that's what I thought of any way. Thinking of spending the weekend with Solange managed to throw me in a tizzy and I kept up ending up in dimly lit poshly pillowed Amsterdam rooms whenever passing out. Darn the hormone driven thoughts of male youth.
The weekend finally arrived and early at that. Both of us skipped school around 11 am in order to make good time and 'avoid traffic.' We stopped off at my house, where Solange briefly said hello to my parents and appeased any concerns they might've nurtured. Lickety split, we were on our way. It was amazing how Solange made my folks feel at ease. Both of my parents slipped quickly into talking to Solange like an adult, a peer, rather than their son's teenage friend.
The ride up north was superbe!
We took the scenic route, highway 1. I enjoyed the fabulous moving vista of California's coast. Solie had a great playlist set up on her ipod for the whole trip. Songs about bay area added to the cool road trip feel. "I left my heart in San Francisco" "Journey to the end of the East Bay" "Mean old Frisco" "Moon over Marin" "San Francisco Days" "Samba de Sausalito" "Planet Fillmore" "Mission in the Rain" "Golden Gate" "Frisco Blues" "Frisco Town" "Condition Oakland". . . I had no idea there could be so many songs about a single california area. No Diamanda Galas though, Solange told me to not listen to her. She decided that since I had never heard of her, the experience would be all the more greater if I faced the Galas cold.
On the way up north we stopped at Hearst Castle. Solie was humoring the tourist bug that seemed to have bit me. I can honestly say it was the funnest day of my life, I was happy and even relaxed. We avoided the subject of time traveling and Solange did most of the talking. She opened up with memories of her childhood and vignettes regarding her sister.
I actually caught her getting next to livid, animated any way, when she shared her love/hate relationship with waitresing at Michael's. She seemed to like it and would have fun character acting like a roadstop Flo-like waitress. When she was bored Solie'd pretend she was a spy working behind enemy lines and play it on thick with a french femme fatale accent. There were days of course when she couldn't stand it. Either business was slow, or patron's were stingy tipless nincompoops, or worse yet she would have to do her acrobatic best to fend off hands that seemed to reach for her ass or avoid the owner who apparently was the worse kind of lech. Not only would he pocket tips when Solange wasn't looking, he also couldn't take a hint and continued to attempt to grope her or ply her with offers of booze after work. Luckily. most of the time Crash or Rob was near and Michael was smart enough to recognize that their evil looks portended more than a glare whenever he attempted to get too close to Solange.
I felt so good, so different. I managed to stay awake for the majority of the ride up north. Once, while driving during a lull in the conversation, I did fade away for a bit. I ended up comfortably on some California beach where I amused myself in the sunshine by listening to the waves and watching the kids play in the sand and surfers doing tricks in the horizon.
The second time I fell asleep was far from pleasant. Truth be told, I can't remember where I went. I do remember vividly how I found myself when I woke up. We had stopped at a restaurant along the coast near Carmel for dinner. The place looked nice, rustic, filled with wooden furniture and a great view of the ocean. The place was emitted yummy fishy smells and pleasant chatter. I threw caution to the wind and ordered the lobster bisque. It was their special and there was a rave newspaper review copied in the menu. I remember it tasting good. My first time trying that bisque so I had nothing to compare it too. Anyway, while eating I passed out. When I came back to the present, my face felt all warm and sticky with bits of soggy crackers stuck to my eyelids and cheeks. Rising my head, I became aware of the entire room staring at me along with laughter eminating from the waitress and man behind the bar. Solange was livid. I had never seen her mad before, and glad of it. I made it a point then and there to do be sure to keep Solange's ire away from my direction. She was standing, pointing violently into the waitress's personal space, cursing the entire room in French and German, yelling for the inane laughter stop and demanding to speak to the owner or whomever was in charge.
When the manager finally showed her face, Solange started berating her for the way the staff had treated her friend. She went so far to threaten a discrimination law suit seeing as I suffered from narcolepsy and no one should be treated in such a way. I distinctly remember slinking down in my chair trying to become invisible and reaching for napkins to clean up my face and shirt. Though, after I got over the shock of witnessing Solange on fire, I started to enjoy the show. It was priceless to witness the crowd go from laughing to stuttering and mumbling and fumbling trying to appease a firecracker without getting their hands blown off. I had to keep myself from laughing lest I break the angry spell and hurt fascade.
Long story short, we ended up having dinner for free in addition to another couple of courses to go and to top it off a free hotel room and free breakfast waiting in the morning if we chose to come back to the place. Any way, this was by far the most memorable day of my life. Unfortunately more memorable events would follow. I'd have to say Solange's disappearance will rank forever as the top most memorable and deplorable day of my existence. I laughed so hard when we left the restaurant that my gut began protesting in pain. Solange quickly joined me. She laughed and danced her way back to the car. The whole event put me so at ease. I can't say I was a bit nervous when we availed ourselves to the free room entered the comfortable and quaint hotel suite complete with view of the ocean and, according to Solange, great bath products. The rest of the evening went smoothly. We relaxed comfortably atop the king size bed and recapped the hilarious events of the evening. Sometime during the night, while talking about our plans for morrow, I ended nodding reluctantly off into a blissful slumber while trying to concentrate on what Solange was saying.
Of course. the first hurdle was getting my parents' "Okay." This seemed insurmountable to me. I had never really lied to the folks before. Never had a reason to, save of course the lie of abstentia keeping my travels to myself. I hadn't any friends who's home I could claim I was sleeping over for the weekend. My only friend at the moment was Solie I guess, since I think I already considered Solie a friend and believe she felt the same, but I couldn't very well ask to sleep over at a girl's place. Nor was I a badge toting boy scout with camping outings every month or so.
Any lie worth swallowing truly escaped me. I told Solange this trying not to sound as uncool as I felt, "I guess you'll have to go ahead and see Diamond without me."
"Diamanda, not Diamond, Diamanda Galas. Totally different sound, although checking out a sequined Neil would be fun." Solange replied nonplussed. "I see your predicament. Still I'm sure we can take care of it, relax. Your rents know you've been hanging out with me and I get the gender snafu, but you can tell them you've been invited by me and the family to come with us to Santa Barbara for a swim meet. "
"They'd want to talk to your parents I'm sure." I contradicted a bit too tiredly.
"You are a newbie to this teenage rite of passage aren't you." Solange said with a smile. She patted my head as if I were a little tyke with a scraped knee, "You'll give your verwandte Crash's number telling them it's mi poppa."
"Crash would lie for me?"
"Well I don't see why not. It's not like we're asking that he take a bullet for us. Besides, if you think about it he's also lying for me as I'm the one that wants your company, and I know for a fact that Crash has no problem lying for lil ol moi."
After my fears were appeased, the plan was explained to Crash whom quickly smiled at the idea. Chuckling, Crash playfully hit my shoulder saying "Be glad to aid and abet a worthy adventure! Where will you be staying? Is Jed here gonna luck out and share a hotel room with a woman? Do I see any base running in your future?"
Solange hit Crash's shoulder in return "Haven't figured out where we'll crash Crash. If it ends up being a hotel bed I'm sure Jed will be a perfect gentleman. Doubt there will be any base running of any sorts, neither of us care a wit about sports." Solange replied with a twinkle completely ignoring the crass innuendo.
I, on the other hand, couldn't ignore it and was beet red, nearly as purple as Solange's hair and dead silent. Spending time alone with Solange was nothing new, but the thought of spending the night with her hadn't really clicked until Crash hit me over the head with it.
After an hour of so of razzing from Crash with a tickling from Rob and some patiently served repeats of what I should tell my parents from Solange, I was fortified enough to face those whom feed and cloth me.
It was alot easier than I expected. Simple really. They were actually excited and made happy by the thought that I had made friends with someone enough to be asked along for a family weekend. They did call Crash to confirm. It was hard for me to not burst out laughing hysterically when I heard them praise how much of an upstanding man Solange's father sounded to be.
The days leading up to the adventure were painfully long. I could hardly think of anything but what it would be like to drive up north with Solange. I'd never been in San Francisco my time, and I was interested to see what north beach was like. I was looking forward to hitting North Beach if we had time, where I could go to City Lights without 'haunting it' and try sipping an espresso at Trieste while listening to arias on the juke box. Well that's what I thought of any way. Thinking of spending the weekend with Solange managed to throw me in a tizzy and I kept up ending up in dimly lit poshly pillowed Amsterdam rooms whenever passing out. Darn the hormone driven thoughts of male youth.
The weekend finally arrived and early at that. Both of us skipped school around 11 am in order to make good time and 'avoid traffic.' We stopped off at my house, where Solange briefly said hello to my parents and appeased any concerns they might've nurtured. Lickety split, we were on our way. It was amazing how Solange made my folks feel at ease. Both of my parents slipped quickly into talking to Solange like an adult, a peer, rather than their son's teenage friend.
The ride up north was superbe!
We took the scenic route, highway 1. I enjoyed the fabulous moving vista of California's coast. Solie had a great playlist set up on her ipod for the whole trip. Songs about bay area added to the cool road trip feel. "I left my heart in San Francisco" "Journey to the end of the East Bay" "Mean old Frisco" "Moon over Marin" "San Francisco Days" "Samba de Sausalito" "Planet Fillmore" "Mission in the Rain" "Golden Gate" "Frisco Blues" "Frisco Town" "Condition Oakland". . . I had no idea there could be so many songs about a single california area. No Diamanda Galas though, Solange told me to not listen to her. She decided that since I had never heard of her, the experience would be all the more greater if I faced the Galas cold.
On the way up north we stopped at Hearst Castle. Solie was humoring the tourist bug that seemed to have bit me. I can honestly say it was the funnest day of my life, I was happy and even relaxed. We avoided the subject of time traveling and Solange did most of the talking. She opened up with memories of her childhood and vignettes regarding her sister.
I actually caught her getting next to livid, animated any way, when she shared her love/hate relationship with waitresing at Michael's. She seemed to like it and would have fun character acting like a roadstop Flo-like waitress. When she was bored Solie'd pretend she was a spy working behind enemy lines and play it on thick with a french femme fatale accent. There were days of course when she couldn't stand it. Either business was slow, or patron's were stingy tipless nincompoops, or worse yet she would have to do her acrobatic best to fend off hands that seemed to reach for her ass or avoid the owner who apparently was the worse kind of lech. Not only would he pocket tips when Solange wasn't looking, he also couldn't take a hint and continued to attempt to grope her or ply her with offers of booze after work. Luckily. most of the time Crash or Rob was near and Michael was smart enough to recognize that their evil looks portended more than a glare whenever he attempted to get too close to Solange.
I felt so good, so different. I managed to stay awake for the majority of the ride up north. Once, while driving during a lull in the conversation, I did fade away for a bit. I ended up comfortably on some California beach where I amused myself in the sunshine by listening to the waves and watching the kids play in the sand and surfers doing tricks in the horizon.
The second time I fell asleep was far from pleasant. Truth be told, I can't remember where I went. I do remember vividly how I found myself when I woke up. We had stopped at a restaurant along the coast near Carmel for dinner. The place looked nice, rustic, filled with wooden furniture and a great view of the ocean. The place was emitted yummy fishy smells and pleasant chatter. I threw caution to the wind and ordered the lobster bisque. It was their special and there was a rave newspaper review copied in the menu. I remember it tasting good. My first time trying that bisque so I had nothing to compare it too. Anyway, while eating I passed out. When I came back to the present, my face felt all warm and sticky with bits of soggy crackers stuck to my eyelids and cheeks. Rising my head, I became aware of the entire room staring at me along with laughter eminating from the waitress and man behind the bar. Solange was livid. I had never seen her mad before, and glad of it. I made it a point then and there to do be sure to keep Solange's ire away from my direction. She was standing, pointing violently into the waitress's personal space, cursing the entire room in French and German, yelling for the inane laughter stop and demanding to speak to the owner or whomever was in charge.
When the manager finally showed her face, Solange started berating her for the way the staff had treated her friend. She went so far to threaten a discrimination law suit seeing as I suffered from narcolepsy and no one should be treated in such a way. I distinctly remember slinking down in my chair trying to become invisible and reaching for napkins to clean up my face and shirt. Though, after I got over the shock of witnessing Solange on fire, I started to enjoy the show. It was priceless to witness the crowd go from laughing to stuttering and mumbling and fumbling trying to appease a firecracker without getting their hands blown off. I had to keep myself from laughing lest I break the angry spell and hurt fascade.
Long story short, we ended up having dinner for free in addition to another couple of courses to go and to top it off a free hotel room and free breakfast waiting in the morning if we chose to come back to the place. Any way, this was by far the most memorable day of my life. Unfortunately more memorable events would follow. I'd have to say Solange's disappearance will rank forever as the top most memorable and deplorable day of my existence. I laughed so hard when we left the restaurant that my gut began protesting in pain. Solange quickly joined me. She laughed and danced her way back to the car. The whole event put me so at ease. I can't say I was a bit nervous when we availed ourselves to the free room entered the comfortable and quaint hotel suite complete with view of the ocean and, according to Solange, great bath products. The rest of the evening went smoothly. We relaxed comfortably atop the king size bed and recapped the hilarious events of the evening. Sometime during the night, while talking about our plans for morrow, I ended nodding reluctantly off into a blissful slumber while trying to concentrate on what Solange was saying.
Saturday, September 18, 2010
Tomorrow and Tomorrow's Morrow's Morrow
My aunt says you've started the blog. Thanks again for doing this. Not sure what I hope to get from this, grasping at straws really. Where did that come from? I mean, who would want to grab straw to begin with let alone grasp for it.
Anywhat, back to filling you and the viewers in on how I got to know Solange and what I think happened to her.
After Solange dropped me off, I spent all night, when conscious anyway, thinking about how impossible it would be to teach someone to do what I do. I mean I'm still not sure how or why I time travel when I pass out. Although due to Solster's departure I think I have a better idea. Long evening short, I stressed all night trying to think of how exactly I did what I did and how I might share it with Solange. I mean, what living teenage guy wouldn't jump through whatever hoops necessary to make a woman like Solange happy. [bleh, yes my sister was or hopefully is something else but give me a break she pukes like all of us do after one too many shots of jager]
Upon seeing Solange the next day, after much blushed faced hemming and hawing, I blurted out the fact that I hadn't a fricken clue as to how or why i travelled through time. I'm not sure what I expected her reaction to be - forgetting I even existed, being called a fake, disappointment surely. But no, Solange simply stared at me for a moment. Then she gently told me to take it easy and said we'd just have to treat it like a science problem and experiment away until the 'Voila!' solution was discovered. Your her sis, did Solange ever get phased or pissed of? [Nope cool as a cucumber, Solie didn't get pissed. She just got even or ignored whomever managed to irk her.]
For the rest of the day, and practically every day that followed, save those unfortunate holidays that required familial attention or dates that found Solange busy with work or taking her lil sister to swim meets - How's the swimming going by the by? - [broke a minute in 100 meter flutterby last meet so i'd say kick ass]
we experimented.
First we tried her holding my hands, staying in physical contact, until and during the times I'd fade off into the wild past yonder.
This was fun, what am I saying this was greater than fun! I had never been held by a girl before Solange. So at first it was rather embarrasing what with my shaking and oh so sweaty palms. I'm surprised I didn't die of dehydration let alone embarrasement. Solange tried to ease my nervousness by telling me to relax. When that didn't work, she shocked me further by grabbing me and kissing me hard. After I was able to bring my jaw up from the ground, it actually worked. I was no longer stupified by her physical presence. From then on, touching Solange was a peace of cake, still a thrill but nothing to lose my cool over, it wasy rather mundane after all when compared to the feeling of her lips.
Experimenting with Solange was more than fun. I felt great falling asleep holding her hand or leaning against her breast, resting my head in her lap, and greater still opening my eyes to find her still there staring at me with a smile. My trips were fabulous too. We spent the time when I was coherent talking about French authors I had never heard of, museums Solange loved to troll around in when visiting her grandparents that I got to see at different times. She'd tell me about a play or movie I had to see and I'd thank her for a wonderful trips of entertainment. Solange understood my fear of ending up in the midst of an air raid or frontal assault, so we kept our conversation to relatively safe eras. Although, Solange did have a fascination for speakeasys and due to that fascination I did witness an old school mob war on the streets of Chicago right outside Club Lucky.
When we weren't talking about the past, I'd occasionally get Solange to open up and share bits about herself. She's still a mystery to me mind you, but at least I knew she loved the smell of lavender and the color fuscia. I could tell she loved fashion and fabric because her eyes lit up. No really they did, not a figure of speech, truly light up whenever she'd share her latest design ideas. She seemed almost Zen simply a matter of fact regarding other life's happenings. School was school, something that had to be done. Family was family and nothing that involved her sister or parents was a chore. She detested sports but enjoyed watching her sister compete. Solange had a smoky laugh that sounded like a fifty year aged bottle of bourbon and she only seemed to frown when deep in thought; more like a slight grimace than a perturbed frown.
Also got to know Rob and Crash pretty well. Not that I had anything to compare it too, not knowing anyone really before meeting Solange, but I think we became friends or at least acquaintance friends. I learned to take Crash's sarcasm as humor rather than slight and got quite a lot of laughs out of listening to him, and came to expect a witty remark or retort from Rob whenever he was quiet in the conversation for more than a few minutes. While we spent most of the time alone kicking it on a bench near the Mission or sitting in her back yard or on the bleachers listening to the splash of swimmers stroking back and forth during practice, Solange often had a hankering for a doughnut and cup of coffee so some of our time together was spent outside Sunshine with the likes of Solange's coworkers. I suppose with our holding hands at all times and being seen together, we might have been mistaken as an item. Crash certainly razzed the two of us about being a couple. He certainly got my goat and I denied it as much as I wished it were true. Solange on the other hand would just chuckle or smile and let Crash believe what ever he chose to believe.
We never told anyone about our expirements. Well at least I didn't nor did I hear Solange talk about it with anyone, it's not like i was with her 24/7 though. Given the opportunity, I would have jumped at such a chance. After all, I had no life other than plodding day to day from one time to the next, my presence was rather non existant until Solange found me. Unfortunately, we generally just met after school and occasionally on the weekends when Solange wasn't busy with work or fashion or off doing something with her sister. I didn't meet her during school, so I have no idea who her friends at SLOSH were or if she had any friends. She didn't mention any. I guess Solange was a bit of a loner as well but by choice rather than as in my case by design. She definitely wasn't awkward around other people. On the contrary, she shined especially when compared to my stuttering self. If there's a female equivelant to suave and debonaire, Solange typified it.
For over a month of bliss, nothing became of our expirementing with her holding me while I travelled. Well not nothing, I had fallen fast, more than enamored by Solanges presence. Granted, I hadn't had many friends or conversations. So this was all new to me and felt thankful, grateful for, and in love with Solange and the time I got to spend with her. Actually started grinning alot, a facial expression I wasn't familiar with. Felt strange at first but then natural. Also understood what it meant to watch the clock. Before our experimenting together, I had nothing to look forward too while in class and on desk was no different than my bedroom or bench or grass for wiling away the day. Suddenly, I felt I had a purpose, as meager as it was, I lived to be with Solange and decipher the 'how to's of my time travelling affliction.
Our next experiment was to remain in contact but also concentrate, think about, the same things or places at the same time. Pretty hard to do if you ask me, keeping an event in mind constantly trying to think of the exact same thing someone else is thinking. Time periods were too vast as were events. After some deliberation, Solange and I settled upon focusing our thoughts on specific works of art or poems. Even art was problematic. I mean really it was tough. Try thinking of the Mona Lisa for example. Are you thinking about it. What are you thinking of? Her smile? Her eyes? The Louvre? Even when we're talking about a static image it's rather hard to focus ones thoughts in tune with anothers exactly on the same thing. After expirementing and talking about images, we settled upon short poems like Parker's"men don't make passes at women who wear glasses" or Millay's fig quatrains and specific objects in paintings like the red ball in Man Ray's "La Fortune, "or sculptures like Duchamp's urinal, or just solid colors, still can't see how a canvas of solid blue is art but it's easy to focus on it especially if you don't get too close to note the brush strokes. We also tried to think about just one word but that got tiring rather quickly. It's rather boring thinking about a single word over and over again. Quagmire did work well for a couple of hours though.
We dragged this experiment on for months. It was a tad too exhausting though. I would have called it quits much sooner if it weren't for the perk of still being able to feel Solange next to me. In fact, it wasn't me who evidenced frustration, it was Solange. The first time I ever saw a glimmer of emotion outside the calm cool and happy self she exuded. I remember it vividly.
I was resting my head against Solange's shoulder, my left arm beside her back my right intertwined with her left arm against her thighs. I must admit I was still a tad distracted by the feel of her lower back and the heat of her legs, but was doing my darndest to concentrate upon the square block of a rook that was part of Man Ray's chess set.
Solange stood up suddently jarring my head and turned towards me "This isn't working. I think we need to mix things up a bit."
"How?" I replied a bit bewildered by the sudden loss of her touch.
"I don't know." She replied sounding frustrated with that fretful frown of hers. She stood there silently as I remained seated on the bench stupidly. She paced a bit, picked up a rock and threw it into the dry creek bed next to the mission we were haunting. I just remained sitting watching her move trying not to fade into another time. Solange twirled around, her face transforming from a grimace to a smile.
"We need a change in environment!" cried Solange.
"How so?" I replied.
"Road Trip of course, a self imposed mini bildungs roman if you will"
"huh?"
"I know you travel when your asleep, but i think a trip up north to the bay area would be a fun change of pace. Diamanda Galas is playing at the Opera House in a couple of weeks and I think we should go."
"Who's Galas?"
"You'll find out, first you've got to get the okay from your folks to let you go away for a weekend."
"Don't see how. Can't imagine them agreeing to let their dear only teenage son, go off alone for a weekend, with a girl no less."
"Well then you'll do what I do and not tell them rather we'll think of some alternative excuse that will be acceptable to them."
"You mean lie."
Solange laughed "Of course lie, if you haven't before it's about time you embraced a pivotal part of being a teenager 'lying to the parents.' This will be great fun and a worthy cause. We need to try something new and catching Galas perform will be an added bonus!"
Anywhat, back to filling you and the viewers in on how I got to know Solange and what I think happened to her.
After Solange dropped me off, I spent all night, when conscious anyway, thinking about how impossible it would be to teach someone to do what I do. I mean I'm still not sure how or why I time travel when I pass out. Although due to Solster's departure I think I have a better idea. Long evening short, I stressed all night trying to think of how exactly I did what I did and how I might share it with Solange. I mean, what living teenage guy wouldn't jump through whatever hoops necessary to make a woman like Solange happy. [bleh, yes my sister was or hopefully is something else but give me a break she pukes like all of us do after one too many shots of jager]
Upon seeing Solange the next day, after much blushed faced hemming and hawing, I blurted out the fact that I hadn't a fricken clue as to how or why i travelled through time. I'm not sure what I expected her reaction to be - forgetting I even existed, being called a fake, disappointment surely. But no, Solange simply stared at me for a moment. Then she gently told me to take it easy and said we'd just have to treat it like a science problem and experiment away until the 'Voila!' solution was discovered. Your her sis, did Solange ever get phased or pissed of? [Nope cool as a cucumber, Solie didn't get pissed. She just got even or ignored whomever managed to irk her.]
For the rest of the day, and practically every day that followed, save those unfortunate holidays that required familial attention or dates that found Solange busy with work or taking her lil sister to swim meets - How's the swimming going by the by? - [broke a minute in 100 meter flutterby last meet so i'd say kick ass]
we experimented.
First we tried her holding my hands, staying in physical contact, until and during the times I'd fade off into the wild past yonder.
This was fun, what am I saying this was greater than fun! I had never been held by a girl before Solange. So at first it was rather embarrasing what with my shaking and oh so sweaty palms. I'm surprised I didn't die of dehydration let alone embarrasement. Solange tried to ease my nervousness by telling me to relax. When that didn't work, she shocked me further by grabbing me and kissing me hard. After I was able to bring my jaw up from the ground, it actually worked. I was no longer stupified by her physical presence. From then on, touching Solange was a peace of cake, still a thrill but nothing to lose my cool over, it wasy rather mundane after all when compared to the feeling of her lips.
Experimenting with Solange was more than fun. I felt great falling asleep holding her hand or leaning against her breast, resting my head in her lap, and greater still opening my eyes to find her still there staring at me with a smile. My trips were fabulous too. We spent the time when I was coherent talking about French authors I had never heard of, museums Solange loved to troll around in when visiting her grandparents that I got to see at different times. She'd tell me about a play or movie I had to see and I'd thank her for a wonderful trips of entertainment. Solange understood my fear of ending up in the midst of an air raid or frontal assault, so we kept our conversation to relatively safe eras. Although, Solange did have a fascination for speakeasys and due to that fascination I did witness an old school mob war on the streets of Chicago right outside Club Lucky.
When we weren't talking about the past, I'd occasionally get Solange to open up and share bits about herself. She's still a mystery to me mind you, but at least I knew she loved the smell of lavender and the color fuscia. I could tell she loved fashion and fabric because her eyes lit up. No really they did, not a figure of speech, truly light up whenever she'd share her latest design ideas. She seemed almost Zen simply a matter of fact regarding other life's happenings. School was school, something that had to be done. Family was family and nothing that involved her sister or parents was a chore. She detested sports but enjoyed watching her sister compete. Solange had a smoky laugh that sounded like a fifty year aged bottle of bourbon and she only seemed to frown when deep in thought; more like a slight grimace than a perturbed frown.
Also got to know Rob and Crash pretty well. Not that I had anything to compare it too, not knowing anyone really before meeting Solange, but I think we became friends or at least acquaintance friends. I learned to take Crash's sarcasm as humor rather than slight and got quite a lot of laughs out of listening to him, and came to expect a witty remark or retort from Rob whenever he was quiet in the conversation for more than a few minutes. While we spent most of the time alone kicking it on a bench near the Mission or sitting in her back yard or on the bleachers listening to the splash of swimmers stroking back and forth during practice, Solange often had a hankering for a doughnut and cup of coffee so some of our time together was spent outside Sunshine with the likes of Solange's coworkers. I suppose with our holding hands at all times and being seen together, we might have been mistaken as an item. Crash certainly razzed the two of us about being a couple. He certainly got my goat and I denied it as much as I wished it were true. Solange on the other hand would just chuckle or smile and let Crash believe what ever he chose to believe.
We never told anyone about our expirements. Well at least I didn't nor did I hear Solange talk about it with anyone, it's not like i was with her 24/7 though. Given the opportunity, I would have jumped at such a chance. After all, I had no life other than plodding day to day from one time to the next, my presence was rather non existant until Solange found me. Unfortunately, we generally just met after school and occasionally on the weekends when Solange wasn't busy with work or fashion or off doing something with her sister. I didn't meet her during school, so I have no idea who her friends at SLOSH were or if she had any friends. She didn't mention any. I guess Solange was a bit of a loner as well but by choice rather than as in my case by design. She definitely wasn't awkward around other people. On the contrary, she shined especially when compared to my stuttering self. If there's a female equivelant to suave and debonaire, Solange typified it.
For over a month of bliss, nothing became of our expirementing with her holding me while I travelled. Well not nothing, I had fallen fast, more than enamored by Solanges presence. Granted, I hadn't had many friends or conversations. So this was all new to me and felt thankful, grateful for, and in love with Solange and the time I got to spend with her. Actually started grinning alot, a facial expression I wasn't familiar with. Felt strange at first but then natural. Also understood what it meant to watch the clock. Before our experimenting together, I had nothing to look forward too while in class and on desk was no different than my bedroom or bench or grass for wiling away the day. Suddenly, I felt I had a purpose, as meager as it was, I lived to be with Solange and decipher the 'how to's of my time travelling affliction.
Our next experiment was to remain in contact but also concentrate, think about, the same things or places at the same time. Pretty hard to do if you ask me, keeping an event in mind constantly trying to think of the exact same thing someone else is thinking. Time periods were too vast as were events. After some deliberation, Solange and I settled upon focusing our thoughts on specific works of art or poems. Even art was problematic. I mean really it was tough. Try thinking of the Mona Lisa for example. Are you thinking about it. What are you thinking of? Her smile? Her eyes? The Louvre? Even when we're talking about a static image it's rather hard to focus ones thoughts in tune with anothers exactly on the same thing. After expirementing and talking about images, we settled upon short poems like Parker's"men don't make passes at women who wear glasses" or Millay's fig quatrains and specific objects in paintings like the red ball in Man Ray's "La Fortune, "or sculptures like Duchamp's urinal, or just solid colors, still can't see how a canvas of solid blue is art but it's easy to focus on it especially if you don't get too close to note the brush strokes. We also tried to think about just one word but that got tiring rather quickly. It's rather boring thinking about a single word over and over again. Quagmire did work well for a couple of hours though.
We dragged this experiment on for months. It was a tad too exhausting though. I would have called it quits much sooner if it weren't for the perk of still being able to feel Solange next to me. In fact, it wasn't me who evidenced frustration, it was Solange. The first time I ever saw a glimmer of emotion outside the calm cool and happy self she exuded. I remember it vividly.
I was resting my head against Solange's shoulder, my left arm beside her back my right intertwined with her left arm against her thighs. I must admit I was still a tad distracted by the feel of her lower back and the heat of her legs, but was doing my darndest to concentrate upon the square block of a rook that was part of Man Ray's chess set.
Solange stood up suddently jarring my head and turned towards me "This isn't working. I think we need to mix things up a bit."
"How?" I replied a bit bewildered by the sudden loss of her touch.
"I don't know." She replied sounding frustrated with that fretful frown of hers. She stood there silently as I remained seated on the bench stupidly. She paced a bit, picked up a rock and threw it into the dry creek bed next to the mission we were haunting. I just remained sitting watching her move trying not to fade into another time. Solange twirled around, her face transforming from a grimace to a smile.
"We need a change in environment!" cried Solange.
"How so?" I replied.
"Road Trip of course, a self imposed mini bildungs roman if you will"
"huh?"
"I know you travel when your asleep, but i think a trip up north to the bay area would be a fun change of pace. Diamanda Galas is playing at the Opera House in a couple of weeks and I think we should go."
"Who's Galas?"
"You'll find out, first you've got to get the okay from your folks to let you go away for a weekend."
"Don't see how. Can't imagine them agreeing to let their dear only teenage son, go off alone for a weekend, with a girl no less."
"Well then you'll do what I do and not tell them rather we'll think of some alternative excuse that will be acceptable to them."
"You mean lie."
Solange laughed "Of course lie, if you haven't before it's about time you embraced a pivotal part of being a teenager 'lying to the parents.' This will be great fun and a worthy cause. We need to try something new and catching Galas perform will be an added bonus!"
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
Sunshine
I waited in the middle of the parking lot, out of the way as best as I could for fear of falling asleep and being hit by some newbie of a teenage driver causing me physical damage and perhaps scarring his or her psyche for life. Fool that I am, I forgot to ask what car Solange drove. I had no idea what to look for or where exactly to be. Lucky enough the parking lot isn't too big and flat, so I had a pretty good view of the onslaught of high schoolers escaping another day of readin n writin n arithmatic. I bolted early from my last class to be sure I wasn't late. It was rather easy for me to leave classes at any time. Being inflicted with narcolepsy, I got away with sleeping all the time, and leaving to see the 'nurse' or to' lie down' whenever the mood struck me.
It felt like hours waiting for her. Not sure how long it was, but spent the time standing and sitting and leaning and fidgeting. I swear I could hear my pulse and was sweating way to much for the moderate seventy or so degree weather we were blessed with that day. My mind was racing. I really didn't want to fall asleep and the more keyed up I felt the more I knew I'd drop into elsewhen since emotional peaks seemed to be a dependable trigger.
As luck would have it, I only slumbered off once and spent some time at the Musee D'Orsay for a couple of hours. I like that museum and figure I transported myself there just thinking of Solie's beauty and the words she spoke earlier that day. Museums are another place I try to constantly think about as I have found them as safe and oft times more entertaining than libraries and movie theaters.
Solange glided up to me and led me to her Camaro. Well walked I guess, but she seemed graceful enough to be gliding. It only took a couple of minutes to reach Sunsine Doughnuts, but it felt longer. I felt like a dunce filled with cotton mouth, answering her pleasantries of weather observations and polite questions of how my day was with mumbled "huh"s "um"s and "fine"s. It didn't seem to bother her though, as she kept that striking smile shining the whole way and started to just talk about her day without riddling me with more questions. We pulled up and parked next to the coolest two wheeled vehicles I had ever layed eyes on in the present: a tricked out Vespa that looked like it could have been ridden from the set of Quadrophenia and a vintage Indian motorcycle that looked as new as the ones I'd seen during my travels to the first half of the twentieth century.
Before we got out of the car, Solange warned me that her friends Crash and Rob were there and that we'd have to spend sometime getting through introductions and shooting the scheisse before we'd get a chance to get to know each other better.
"Hi Solange, who's the twerp with ya?" a leather clad crew cut bearing voice called out.
"Hey Rob!" Solange hollared back, "The twerp answers to Jed and I'd appreciate you forgo any further name calling until I get to know him better."
"Fair enuf" replied a slick shark skin suit. "Please to meet you Jed, I'm Crash. Don't worry about Rob. He may bark but he never bites. Can you get me another cup of coffee when you're in there Solange?
"Sure thing Crash, anything for you Rob?"
"I'm all set thanks" Rob replied in a jovial tone.
As we left Rob and Crash sitting outside at one of the wooden tables, Solange appeased my nervousness that must have been blatantly obvious.
"Don't worry about the two of them. They may be old but their still fun. They're cool once you get to know them. Rob's a wanna be beat, who's spent the last five years attending Cal Poly. Still don't think he has a major yet. Crash's a reformed drug dealer biding his parole washing dishes. He considers himself a ladies man and he can be entertaining to watch whenever a new female face happens across his path. Don't know his real name, got the nick name Crash for totalling his last three Vespas. He's harmless, and great fun once you make it clear you're not interested him sexually. Don't suppose you'd have that problem, being a member of the unfortunate sex after all. Both of them bus and wash at Michael's deli where I work part time waiting tables to pay for gas and fabric. My love for fashion isn't cheap. Regrettably, I couldn't fall in love with a cheaper hobby like matchbook collecting or somesuch."
After purchasing three cups of coffee and a half dozen of French crullers for the bunch of us, we returned outside and joined Rob and Crash at the table.
"Where'd you meet Solange Jed?" Crash asked as he artfully finished lighting his and Rob's Lucky Strikes flicking his Zippo closed withs a snap.
"At school." I replied flatly before coughing at the plumes of smoke encroaching my lungs.
Solange deftly interrupted what could only end up being a truly inane conversation. "Sorry folks, it seems Jed is adverse to your nic habit, besides the two of us need to spend some time getting to know each other. So if you'll excuse us, please avail yourselves to a couple of crullers and we'll beat a hasty retreat inside where we can carry on without the two of you."
"Sorry Jed." Rob replied as he placed a couple of pastries onto a napkin resting between Crash and himself, "Hope Solange here will allow us a chance to meet you further in the future."
"Yup, think I can go smokeless long enough to get the latest scoop of the hows and wherefores of a high school youth next time you grace our presence" Crash interjected.
"Nice meeting you" I politely replied, thankful to be escaping the opportunity to spend an afternoon being riddled by questions from two men who were obviously older and much cooler than myself.
After snagging a table in the corner inside the relatively empty and dingy but sweet smelling Sunshine Doughnuts, Solange took a bite of her cruller, sipped her coffee. Staring over the brim of the paper cup, Solange smiled and said "So tell me more about your time travelling."
"Not sure what to tell." I warily replied.
"Well for starters. . . Where and when do you go? Do you have a favorite place or time? "
I'll spare you the details of my response. It's not like I can remember exactly what I replied or exactly what she asked, it has been over a year anyway. Besides, I think I was too distracted by being with her to remember much of anything other than how cool her hand looked as she held the cup of coffee, fingernails short with an odd beauty mark next to the cuticle of her ring finger. Suffice it to say, I told her what I mentioned earlier. At first, I was rather short with my answers but as her interest became more apparent and as I began to relax with the fact that I could actually hold a conversation with a beautiful girl, I became more expressive and open with my answers.
She wondered if I travelled when sleeping at night and I replied that I didn't think so and that I don't really have any conscious memory of anything occuring while I'm asleep at night dreams or travels what have you.
When she asked if I had ever tried to change significant events in the past, I explained that I hadn't really mastered being all there physically when travelling and that the one time I did try didn't work to well. I had tried to stop the assassination of Lincoln. I know, talk about lofty ambitions. Unfortunately, the only thing that happened is that I slightly startled Boothe causing his fall from the box to be a clumsy one, that and to scare Mrs Lincoln into screaming. Contrary to reports, when I was there anyway the scream occured before the gunshot not afterwards. Solange asked if I had tried again and I informed her as far as I could tell I wasn't able to travel to the same time and place more than once.
The conversation went on and as I described some of my clumsy appearances at various famous events, I was able to make her laugh a number of times. I love Solie's laughter, it's full bodied and strong and yet feminine as warm as her hands when the caress your arm or clutch your neck. It really felt good to talk about my affliction, cathartic even and think I could have talked all night if it weren't for niggling aspects of reality like curfews set by worrisome parents.
Before offering me a ride home, Solange did manage to ask two last questions which explained her initial interest and ultimately has led to my current predicament.
Off handedly Solange asked "Have you ran into any other time travellers?'
Taken a bit off guard, I took a moment to think about it for I had never really kept an eye out for others in my predicament, too distracted by the places people and times i ended up experiencing.
"I'm not sure if I could tell if someone were a time traveller if he or she were there completely physically. I hadn't really thought about it, but thinking back to the major events I've gone out of my way to witness like Kennedy's assassination and Coltrane's live performance of 'Love Supreme'," I just had to throw in Coltrane still wanting to sound cooler and suaver than I could possibly be "I think I did see some other ghost like characters gawking as well. So, yeah, I guess I have witnessed other time travelling folks."
Solange smiled at that grabbed her coat and rose to leave. "Wulp let's get you home. It's never a good idea to aggravate the elderly responsible for your room and board. I just have one last question. Don't answer now. Just think about it and we can talk more tomorrow. Assuming of course you'd like to see me again."
I blushed at the thought of spending more time with Solange and replied perhaps faster and louder than I would prefer "OF COURSE, I'd LOVE to see you again"
Solange chuckled "Super bonne! What I want to know tomorrow is, can you teach me? Do you think you could take me with you when you travel, teach me to do what you do?"
I started to deny the very possibility but Solange quickly put her finger to my lips and shushed me in the ear as she gave me a quick peck on my lucky lobe.
"Shhh, don't reply now, just think about it."
After she dropped me off with another round of cheek kisses I entered the humble apartment I called home briefly said hello to my folk, and feeling sated by the doughnuts quickly made my escape to my room where I blissfully laid down thought about the afternoon and looking forward to tomorrow, a feeling I hadn't had before, started ruminating about Solange questions. My mind distracted by her query and my body still tingly from her presence I easily drifted off into sleep.
[Jed actually wrote a bit more than what I transcribed, but it's pure drivel about how cool my sister is, how magical it was to see her lift a doughnut to her mouth, what a wonderful eyebrow she has, gag gag gag. Yes my sister is cool but no one needs to be subjected to the syrupy words of nerdy teenage boy, that's what journals are for you moron.
Anyway, I should be getting more of this drivel over the weekend, I'm not seeing him but his aunt said she'd pick up whatever he has to give me. Already wondering if this is all pointless, but when it's your one and only favorite sibling you're talking about I guess I will see this through. Have a great week everyone, and wish me luck, have a meet at aTRASHcadero this weekend, don't think they stand a chance against us kick ass Seahawks though! Toodle's S'Sis ]
It felt like hours waiting for her. Not sure how long it was, but spent the time standing and sitting and leaning and fidgeting. I swear I could hear my pulse and was sweating way to much for the moderate seventy or so degree weather we were blessed with that day. My mind was racing. I really didn't want to fall asleep and the more keyed up I felt the more I knew I'd drop into elsewhen since emotional peaks seemed to be a dependable trigger.
As luck would have it, I only slumbered off once and spent some time at the Musee D'Orsay for a couple of hours. I like that museum and figure I transported myself there just thinking of Solie's beauty and the words she spoke earlier that day. Museums are another place I try to constantly think about as I have found them as safe and oft times more entertaining than libraries and movie theaters.
Solange glided up to me and led me to her Camaro. Well walked I guess, but she seemed graceful enough to be gliding. It only took a couple of minutes to reach Sunsine Doughnuts, but it felt longer. I felt like a dunce filled with cotton mouth, answering her pleasantries of weather observations and polite questions of how my day was with mumbled "huh"s "um"s and "fine"s. It didn't seem to bother her though, as she kept that striking smile shining the whole way and started to just talk about her day without riddling me with more questions. We pulled up and parked next to the coolest two wheeled vehicles I had ever layed eyes on in the present: a tricked out Vespa that looked like it could have been ridden from the set of Quadrophenia and a vintage Indian motorcycle that looked as new as the ones I'd seen during my travels to the first half of the twentieth century.
Before we got out of the car, Solange warned me that her friends Crash and Rob were there and that we'd have to spend sometime getting through introductions and shooting the scheisse before we'd get a chance to get to know each other better.
"Hi Solange, who's the twerp with ya?" a leather clad crew cut bearing voice called out.
"Hey Rob!" Solange hollared back, "The twerp answers to Jed and I'd appreciate you forgo any further name calling until I get to know him better."
"Fair enuf" replied a slick shark skin suit. "Please to meet you Jed, I'm Crash. Don't worry about Rob. He may bark but he never bites. Can you get me another cup of coffee when you're in there Solange?
"Sure thing Crash, anything for you Rob?"
"I'm all set thanks" Rob replied in a jovial tone.
As we left Rob and Crash sitting outside at one of the wooden tables, Solange appeased my nervousness that must have been blatantly obvious.
"Don't worry about the two of them. They may be old but their still fun. They're cool once you get to know them. Rob's a wanna be beat, who's spent the last five years attending Cal Poly. Still don't think he has a major yet. Crash's a reformed drug dealer biding his parole washing dishes. He considers himself a ladies man and he can be entertaining to watch whenever a new female face happens across his path. Don't know his real name, got the nick name Crash for totalling his last three Vespas. He's harmless, and great fun once you make it clear you're not interested him sexually. Don't suppose you'd have that problem, being a member of the unfortunate sex after all. Both of them bus and wash at Michael's deli where I work part time waiting tables to pay for gas and fabric. My love for fashion isn't cheap. Regrettably, I couldn't fall in love with a cheaper hobby like matchbook collecting or somesuch."
After purchasing three cups of coffee and a half dozen of French crullers for the bunch of us, we returned outside and joined Rob and Crash at the table.
"Where'd you meet Solange Jed?" Crash asked as he artfully finished lighting his and Rob's Lucky Strikes flicking his Zippo closed withs a snap.
"At school." I replied flatly before coughing at the plumes of smoke encroaching my lungs.
Solange deftly interrupted what could only end up being a truly inane conversation. "Sorry folks, it seems Jed is adverse to your nic habit, besides the two of us need to spend some time getting to know each other. So if you'll excuse us, please avail yourselves to a couple of crullers and we'll beat a hasty retreat inside where we can carry on without the two of you."
"Sorry Jed." Rob replied as he placed a couple of pastries onto a napkin resting between Crash and himself, "Hope Solange here will allow us a chance to meet you further in the future."
"Yup, think I can go smokeless long enough to get the latest scoop of the hows and wherefores of a high school youth next time you grace our presence" Crash interjected.
"Nice meeting you" I politely replied, thankful to be escaping the opportunity to spend an afternoon being riddled by questions from two men who were obviously older and much cooler than myself.
After snagging a table in the corner inside the relatively empty and dingy but sweet smelling Sunshine Doughnuts, Solange took a bite of her cruller, sipped her coffee. Staring over the brim of the paper cup, Solange smiled and said "So tell me more about your time travelling."
"Not sure what to tell." I warily replied.
"Well for starters. . . Where and when do you go? Do you have a favorite place or time? "
I'll spare you the details of my response. It's not like I can remember exactly what I replied or exactly what she asked, it has been over a year anyway. Besides, I think I was too distracted by being with her to remember much of anything other than how cool her hand looked as she held the cup of coffee, fingernails short with an odd beauty mark next to the cuticle of her ring finger. Suffice it to say, I told her what I mentioned earlier. At first, I was rather short with my answers but as her interest became more apparent and as I began to relax with the fact that I could actually hold a conversation with a beautiful girl, I became more expressive and open with my answers.
She wondered if I travelled when sleeping at night and I replied that I didn't think so and that I don't really have any conscious memory of anything occuring while I'm asleep at night dreams or travels what have you.
When she asked if I had ever tried to change significant events in the past, I explained that I hadn't really mastered being all there physically when travelling and that the one time I did try didn't work to well. I had tried to stop the assassination of Lincoln. I know, talk about lofty ambitions. Unfortunately, the only thing that happened is that I slightly startled Boothe causing his fall from the box to be a clumsy one, that and to scare Mrs Lincoln into screaming. Contrary to reports, when I was there anyway the scream occured before the gunshot not afterwards. Solange asked if I had tried again and I informed her as far as I could tell I wasn't able to travel to the same time and place more than once.
The conversation went on and as I described some of my clumsy appearances at various famous events, I was able to make her laugh a number of times. I love Solie's laughter, it's full bodied and strong and yet feminine as warm as her hands when the caress your arm or clutch your neck. It really felt good to talk about my affliction, cathartic even and think I could have talked all night if it weren't for niggling aspects of reality like curfews set by worrisome parents.
Before offering me a ride home, Solange did manage to ask two last questions which explained her initial interest and ultimately has led to my current predicament.
Off handedly Solange asked "Have you ran into any other time travellers?'
Taken a bit off guard, I took a moment to think about it for I had never really kept an eye out for others in my predicament, too distracted by the places people and times i ended up experiencing.
"I'm not sure if I could tell if someone were a time traveller if he or she were there completely physically. I hadn't really thought about it, but thinking back to the major events I've gone out of my way to witness like Kennedy's assassination and Coltrane's live performance of 'Love Supreme'," I just had to throw in Coltrane still wanting to sound cooler and suaver than I could possibly be "I think I did see some other ghost like characters gawking as well. So, yeah, I guess I have witnessed other time travelling folks."
Solange smiled at that grabbed her coat and rose to leave. "Wulp let's get you home. It's never a good idea to aggravate the elderly responsible for your room and board. I just have one last question. Don't answer now. Just think about it and we can talk more tomorrow. Assuming of course you'd like to see me again."
I blushed at the thought of spending more time with Solange and replied perhaps faster and louder than I would prefer "OF COURSE, I'd LOVE to see you again"
Solange chuckled "Super bonne! What I want to know tomorrow is, can you teach me? Do you think you could take me with you when you travel, teach me to do what you do?"
I started to deny the very possibility but Solange quickly put her finger to my lips and shushed me in the ear as she gave me a quick peck on my lucky lobe.
"Shhh, don't reply now, just think about it."
After she dropped me off with another round of cheek kisses I entered the humble apartment I called home briefly said hello to my folk, and feeling sated by the doughnuts quickly made my escape to my room where I blissfully laid down thought about the afternoon and looking forward to tomorrow, a feeling I hadn't had before, started ruminating about Solange questions. My mind distracted by her query and my body still tingly from her presence I easily drifted off into sleep.
[Jed actually wrote a bit more than what I transcribed, but it's pure drivel about how cool my sister is, how magical it was to see her lift a doughnut to her mouth, what a wonderful eyebrow she has, gag gag gag. Yes my sister is cool but no one needs to be subjected to the syrupy words of nerdy teenage boy, that's what journals are for you moron.
Anyway, I should be getting more of this drivel over the weekend, I'm not seeing him but his aunt said she'd pick up whatever he has to give me. Already wondering if this is all pointless, but when it's your one and only favorite sibling you're talking about I guess I will see this through. Have a great week everyone, and wish me luck, have a meet at aTRASHcadero this weekend, don't think they stand a chance against us kick ass Seahawks though! Toodle's S'Sis ]
Tuesday, August 24, 2010
Solange
So there I was, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible during lunch hour, my back against a tree sitting cross legged head lolling in unison with my gaping drooling mouth. I came back from a fun evening of theater in the village in the twenties to find myself facing Solange. She was mirroring me, sitting cross legged and staring intently at me, sans the lolling head and drool covered face. She looked fabulous, dressed in an outfit that looked like it was stolen from the set of a Audrey Hepburn flick. Her hair was dyed a deep eggplant purple with her lips just a shade brighter.
As I came too, I felt a little frightened. I mean what's a beautiful junior doing staring at the likes of a lowly freshling like myself. I'd never met Solie before. Not surprising, how could you expect the likes of me to rub elbows or even be introduced to a beautiful, oh so classy, upper classman such as herself. I'm not sure who spoke first.
If I remember correctly, I said something like "ugh, gurggle um, slurp" as I wiped the drool from my lips.
With a slight crinkle in her brow and smile in her voice, Solange said "When were you?" Well she said "Where were you?" but I heard "when."
I'm not sure if it was the shock of being spoken to or the transfixed awe I felt looking into her deep eyes. Whatever it was, I told her. I hadn't really told anyone of my travels at least not for a long while anyway. I told my parents once or twice sure. That was over a decade ago and each time I confessed, they just ignored me or struck my words up as a flight of fanciful imagination on the part of their quiet unprecocious child. Tried telling my doctor once too. Quickly nipped that in the bud. You can tell when someone is starting to think you're insane and Doc had those don't get any closer eyes growing big as he leaned back and started to reach for the phone. Anyway, after a some bouts with a couple of psych loving counselors, whom I avoided any information of substance and skirted from telling any tales of my travels until they were able to tell my 'rents I was fine, just a tad imaginative and a bit reclusive but fine, I made the decision to keep my affliction to myself. It seemed easier to let folks believe I'm only sleeping and perhaps dreaming, not smelling the espresso at Cafe Reggio or listening to Beats rant in North Beach.
- Ever listen to "I'm only sleeping" by the Beatles? I wonder if John was able to travel through time too?
Anywhat, I told Solange where and when I was. Think I might of stuttered, most certainly mumbled a bit, but she seemed to hear me. Rather than laugh, Solange paused seemed to actually believe me and said "Vache Sainte!"
Then in reaction to the bell tolling to get all us cattle back into class "Merde! Well Jed, It is Jed Right? I'd like to hear more, meet me in the parking lot after school. I'll treat you to a French doughnut at Sunshine and you can expound."
It seemed more like an order than a request. Besides with her looks, I'd follow her most anywhere. So I said something oh so cool like "uh great, I'll be there, yeah! See you after class."
"Magnifique!" she replied with a smile, kissed my cheek and wandered off. Didn't wash that cheek until the next morning, kind of felt tingly all over when thinking about it. Must have looked funny wandering around all numb automaton like with the ghost of purple lips enblazoned upon my cheek.
[ Sis did have a habit of slinging around French a lot. Both of us are trilingual, we can speak French and German in addition to English thanks to our foreign born folks. Sol was better at French but I still claim to be the better German speaker. As for her clothes, S'lange was an awesome seamstress! She'd promised to make me a flapper dress for my first high school home coming darn it. Still trying to decide if it would be too creepy to raid her closet for a garment suitable enough to look classy while getting my groove on. Don't think she'd mind. She is beautiful, although looking a bit like her I might be bias. So I'm not surprised at Jed's reaction. I still can't understand why she'd talk to the likes of nerdy old Jed. But she did seem to have the habit of collecting 'freaks and geeks' as part of her harem, so I guess talking to Jed wasn't too much of a stretch. I miss eating doughnuts with my sister dern it all, if she isn't dead I wish she'd come back!
Looks like my netbook's running out of juice, and I suppose I should do some semblance of the homework I've been assigned. So boring, wish me luck! Not sure i can keep my eyes open, just cracking the book is a snoozer! ]
As I came too, I felt a little frightened. I mean what's a beautiful junior doing staring at the likes of a lowly freshling like myself. I'd never met Solie before. Not surprising, how could you expect the likes of me to rub elbows or even be introduced to a beautiful, oh so classy, upper classman such as herself. I'm not sure who spoke first.
If I remember correctly, I said something like "ugh, gurggle um, slurp" as I wiped the drool from my lips.
With a slight crinkle in her brow and smile in her voice, Solange said "When were you?" Well she said "Where were you?" but I heard "when."
I'm not sure if it was the shock of being spoken to or the transfixed awe I felt looking into her deep eyes. Whatever it was, I told her. I hadn't really told anyone of my travels at least not for a long while anyway. I told my parents once or twice sure. That was over a decade ago and each time I confessed, they just ignored me or struck my words up as a flight of fanciful imagination on the part of their quiet unprecocious child. Tried telling my doctor once too. Quickly nipped that in the bud. You can tell when someone is starting to think you're insane and Doc had those don't get any closer eyes growing big as he leaned back and started to reach for the phone. Anyway, after a some bouts with a couple of psych loving counselors, whom I avoided any information of substance and skirted from telling any tales of my travels until they were able to tell my 'rents I was fine, just a tad imaginative and a bit reclusive but fine, I made the decision to keep my affliction to myself. It seemed easier to let folks believe I'm only sleeping and perhaps dreaming, not smelling the espresso at Cafe Reggio or listening to Beats rant in North Beach.
- Ever listen to "I'm only sleeping" by the Beatles? I wonder if John was able to travel through time too?
Anywhat, I told Solange where and when I was. Think I might of stuttered, most certainly mumbled a bit, but she seemed to hear me. Rather than laugh, Solange paused seemed to actually believe me and said "Vache Sainte!"
Then in reaction to the bell tolling to get all us cattle back into class "Merde! Well Jed, It is Jed Right? I'd like to hear more, meet me in the parking lot after school. I'll treat you to a French doughnut at Sunshine and you can expound."
It seemed more like an order than a request. Besides with her looks, I'd follow her most anywhere. So I said something oh so cool like "uh great, I'll be there, yeah! See you after class."
"Magnifique!" she replied with a smile, kissed my cheek and wandered off. Didn't wash that cheek until the next morning, kind of felt tingly all over when thinking about it. Must have looked funny wandering around all numb automaton like with the ghost of purple lips enblazoned upon my cheek.
[ Sis did have a habit of slinging around French a lot. Both of us are trilingual, we can speak French and German in addition to English thanks to our foreign born folks. Sol was better at French but I still claim to be the better German speaker. As for her clothes, S'lange was an awesome seamstress! She'd promised to make me a flapper dress for my first high school home coming darn it. Still trying to decide if it would be too creepy to raid her closet for a garment suitable enough to look classy while getting my groove on. Don't think she'd mind. She is beautiful, although looking a bit like her I might be bias. So I'm not surprised at Jed's reaction. I still can't understand why she'd talk to the likes of nerdy old Jed. But she did seem to have the habit of collecting 'freaks and geeks' as part of her harem, so I guess talking to Jed wasn't too much of a stretch. I miss eating doughnuts with my sister dern it all, if she isn't dead I wish she'd come back!
Looks like my netbook's running out of juice, and I suppose I should do some semblance of the homework I've been assigned. So boring, wish me luck! Not sure i can keep my eyes open, just cracking the book is a snoozer! ]
Sunday, August 22, 2010
I see dead people
That's right, you heard me, I time travel. Whenever my affliction of random sleep kicks in, I'm not snoozing but transporting to other times. Well I guess I'm sleeping. As far as I can tell my body is still here drooling and snoring and mumbling away. I think it's possible to get my body else when. Pretty sure Solange managed that, but I haven't figured out how yet. I've got a good idea of how. I just can't duplicate it. So when you're seeing a lump of brown haired gangly armed body flesh, I'm seeing things from the past.
As far as I can tell I've been doing it all my life. While my folks assumed I was insolent or suffering from ADD and not paying attention, I was sleeping traveling to times and places unrecognized and scary to a child of the twenty-first century. Thank you Dr. K for finally offering a correct diagnosis and getting me off that cornacopia of Adderal, Methylin, Daytrana, and a plethora of other drugs I oh so wish I could forget.
From what I can figure, I can travel to any time before I was born, and can't seem to travel to any time or place where there aren't human beings wandering around. Sorry all you paleontologists out there, I can't provide any first hand accounts of breakfast with T-Rex. Nor am I able to travel to the future, so much for cashing in on the state lottery. Sure would have helped with the trial expenses.
Where I travel seems linked to whatever I'm thinking about when the narcoleptic sandman comes a knock knock knockin. The experience is rather surreal. Actually, I wouldn't be surprised if Dali didn't have the time travelling knack i've been cursed with, some of his paintings remind me of the feelings I experience when falling into other times.
It feels sort of like a flickering light, a rickety subway train speeding past lights that flash through your view. Can't really say how long it takes may be an instant, but it feels like ages and no time at all before I find my self elsewhen. Once then, I feel like a ghost. I can smell things, feel and taste things, hear things, but can't really hold anything for long if at all. How solid I feel, once I arrive, seems linked to the emotional state I was in when I pass out. The happier, the sadder, the more scared or shocked I am, the more there there I feel. There are even times when the now long dead people I come across can see me. Think this may explain all those ghost or alien sightings. Not that I don't believe in the paranormal mind you. Heck, how can a guy who time travels doubt the paranormal. I'm just saying I often look like an apparation when making my journeys, sometimes a more solid apparation then others. How long I stay differs. It isn't directly linked to how long I'm asleep. This I know, for I've spent a week wandering the halls of the Library of Congress while sleeping for mere minutes, and just glimpsed the Bridgette Bardot's bedroom for seconds while being conked out for hours. Haven't really kept meticulous track time wise. Why don't you try keeping an eye on your watch constantly waiting to pass out. It's not easy and far from fun. It does seem I stay longer elsewhen when I'm interested in where I'm at or emotionally worked up with what I'm witnessing. "Why only a few seconds in the bedroom" you query? No Bridgette there alas.
I have been seen by some people. For example, I have even caused a horrific accident once making a car swerve into another when I appeared on the intersection of Bowery and Bleeker in NYC. Sue me for thinking of CBGBs, can you blame a teenager with a fine ear for kick ass rock. Hope this doesn't burst any bubbles or anything, but since I've caused such accidents and come back to the present with nothing changed, I don't think a butterfly's wing flapping makes much of a difference. The way I figure it, there's a bunch of us, myself included more than likely, who don't mean a thing, even if we got that swing. Sorry to break it to ya, but I'm betting most of our existence are irrelevant. It might be the cell walls talking though.
Travelling to whenever I'm thinking of has made life hard. I hate history classes. Reading and hearing about war is one thing. Finding yourself amid the thick of it is another. So I try to tune out history as it seems top heavy with war, depression, treks and camps of death. As a kid I was enamored by the likes of Boone and Crockett and Bowie. That faded fast when I found myself between Mexico and the Alamo as canon and gun fire flew over and through me. Remember the Alamo? If you don't mind, I'll leave that to the rest of America. Thinking of the future or fantastic things like dragons or galaxies far far away is far from good. When I try, it's a crap shoot. I end up in places I have no control of like a latrine in a Reb encampment, outside Gettysburg I think, or in Anne Mcaffrey's office.
I also haven't the knack with languages and finding myself on the Montparnasse in the Twenties for example, might sound cool but is far from it. As great as it might sound to witness Man Ray argue with Kiki there's no fun when you can't understand a word flung as they banter back and forth.
It hasn't been all that bad. I've learned to focus my thoughts on fun things like concerts of yore - Woodstock is 'mind blowing' live. When all else fails, I think of old movie theaters or libraries. Both seem the safest places to end up in. There's nothing like spending time among sharp dressed folks out on the town for a night at the Pantages in L.A. or the Paramount in Oakland. I've rubbed elbows of a sort with many famous folk of yesteryear crashing Academy Award banquets, and am not ashamed to say it have ogled at a number of bombshells of yore. Hey, I'm a teenager and a guy, can you blame me? My curious ability has helped with school too. Nothing like listening in on Steiglitz talk about Nude Descending Staircase at the Armory show and transcribing his words into paper form to ace an essay assignment for art class. Thanks Alfred. Yeah, I know it's probably all plageristic, but heck it's for a high school class and gotta be better than copying from some dated encyclopedia.
Since the more emotional I am the more I am there when traveling, I've tried to keep myself as numb as possible. To be on the safe side, I try to remain all zen and calm focusing on my breathing - boring but sort of serene. With no friends to speak of, I didn't have to worry of exciting birthday parties or friendly spats with my 'bf's. At school, it's a lot of staring at the grass or desks and thinking about whenever or whomever I want to be or see.
So a snap shot of my oh so fabulous unstuck life would be breakfast of toast and fruit. After a while waking up with your face in a bowl of cereal gets tedious. Once I've fortified myself for a day of unsocial life at SLO senior high, SLOSH, I droned as best as I could teenage hell, surrounded by classmates I didn't know talking about events and things I couldn't experience. I suppose I must have looked like a glazed eyed automaton, not very friendly I assume. Can't really blame the world. I'm betting I appeared pretty stand offish and wasn't very receptive to those that approach me. It really isn't any fun trying to hold a conversation when the subjects are things I can't or don't want to experience and the banter of talk is interrupted inopportunely by lulls caused by my passing out. Trying to think kindly of others, I suppose it must be really off putting to experience some one falling asleep right when you are expounding upon the trials and tribulations of trying to get onto the debate team.
Anyway, I was resigned and almost fine with the fact of living a deadened life in the present. At times even happy. Until that fabglorious day, when I awoke from a slumber spent at Provincetown Playhouse enjoying a production of Aria da Capo to find the desirous deep chocolate eyes of Solange staring at me.
As far as I can tell I've been doing it all my life. While my folks assumed I was insolent or suffering from ADD and not paying attention, I was sleeping traveling to times and places unrecognized and scary to a child of the twenty-first century. Thank you Dr. K for finally offering a correct diagnosis and getting me off that cornacopia of Adderal, Methylin, Daytrana, and a plethora of other drugs I oh so wish I could forget.
From what I can figure, I can travel to any time before I was born, and can't seem to travel to any time or place where there aren't human beings wandering around. Sorry all you paleontologists out there, I can't provide any first hand accounts of breakfast with T-Rex. Nor am I able to travel to the future, so much for cashing in on the state lottery. Sure would have helped with the trial expenses.
Where I travel seems linked to whatever I'm thinking about when the narcoleptic sandman comes a knock knock knockin. The experience is rather surreal. Actually, I wouldn't be surprised if Dali didn't have the time travelling knack i've been cursed with, some of his paintings remind me of the feelings I experience when falling into other times.
It feels sort of like a flickering light, a rickety subway train speeding past lights that flash through your view. Can't really say how long it takes may be an instant, but it feels like ages and no time at all before I find my self elsewhen. Once then, I feel like a ghost. I can smell things, feel and taste things, hear things, but can't really hold anything for long if at all. How solid I feel, once I arrive, seems linked to the emotional state I was in when I pass out. The happier, the sadder, the more scared or shocked I am, the more there there I feel. There are even times when the now long dead people I come across can see me. Think this may explain all those ghost or alien sightings. Not that I don't believe in the paranormal mind you. Heck, how can a guy who time travels doubt the paranormal. I'm just saying I often look like an apparation when making my journeys, sometimes a more solid apparation then others. How long I stay differs. It isn't directly linked to how long I'm asleep. This I know, for I've spent a week wandering the halls of the Library of Congress while sleeping for mere minutes, and just glimpsed the Bridgette Bardot's bedroom for seconds while being conked out for hours. Haven't really kept meticulous track time wise. Why don't you try keeping an eye on your watch constantly waiting to pass out. It's not easy and far from fun. It does seem I stay longer elsewhen when I'm interested in where I'm at or emotionally worked up with what I'm witnessing. "Why only a few seconds in the bedroom" you query? No Bridgette there alas.
I have been seen by some people. For example, I have even caused a horrific accident once making a car swerve into another when I appeared on the intersection of Bowery and Bleeker in NYC. Sue me for thinking of CBGBs, can you blame a teenager with a fine ear for kick ass rock. Hope this doesn't burst any bubbles or anything, but since I've caused such accidents and come back to the present with nothing changed, I don't think a butterfly's wing flapping makes much of a difference. The way I figure it, there's a bunch of us, myself included more than likely, who don't mean a thing, even if we got that swing. Sorry to break it to ya, but I'm betting most of our existence are irrelevant. It might be the cell walls talking though.
Travelling to whenever I'm thinking of has made life hard. I hate history classes. Reading and hearing about war is one thing. Finding yourself amid the thick of it is another. So I try to tune out history as it seems top heavy with war, depression, treks and camps of death. As a kid I was enamored by the likes of Boone and Crockett and Bowie. That faded fast when I found myself between Mexico and the Alamo as canon and gun fire flew over and through me. Remember the Alamo? If you don't mind, I'll leave that to the rest of America. Thinking of the future or fantastic things like dragons or galaxies far far away is far from good. When I try, it's a crap shoot. I end up in places I have no control of like a latrine in a Reb encampment, outside Gettysburg I think, or in Anne Mcaffrey's office.
I also haven't the knack with languages and finding myself on the Montparnasse in the Twenties for example, might sound cool but is far from it. As great as it might sound to witness Man Ray argue with Kiki there's no fun when you can't understand a word flung as they banter back and forth.
It hasn't been all that bad. I've learned to focus my thoughts on fun things like concerts of yore - Woodstock is 'mind blowing' live. When all else fails, I think of old movie theaters or libraries. Both seem the safest places to end up in. There's nothing like spending time among sharp dressed folks out on the town for a night at the Pantages in L.A. or the Paramount in Oakland. I've rubbed elbows of a sort with many famous folk of yesteryear crashing Academy Award banquets, and am not ashamed to say it have ogled at a number of bombshells of yore. Hey, I'm a teenager and a guy, can you blame me? My curious ability has helped with school too. Nothing like listening in on Steiglitz talk about Nude Descending Staircase at the Armory show and transcribing his words into paper form to ace an essay assignment for art class. Thanks Alfred. Yeah, I know it's probably all plageristic, but heck it's for a high school class and gotta be better than copying from some dated encyclopedia.
Since the more emotional I am the more I am there when traveling, I've tried to keep myself as numb as possible. To be on the safe side, I try to remain all zen and calm focusing on my breathing - boring but sort of serene. With no friends to speak of, I didn't have to worry of exciting birthday parties or friendly spats with my 'bf's. At school, it's a lot of staring at the grass or desks and thinking about whenever or whomever I want to be or see.
So a snap shot of my oh so fabulous unstuck life would be breakfast of toast and fruit. After a while waking up with your face in a bowl of cereal gets tedious. Once I've fortified myself for a day of unsocial life at SLO senior high, SLOSH, I droned as best as I could teenage hell, surrounded by classmates I didn't know talking about events and things I couldn't experience. I suppose I must have looked like a glazed eyed automaton, not very friendly I assume. Can't really blame the world. I'm betting I appeared pretty stand offish and wasn't very receptive to those that approach me. It really isn't any fun trying to hold a conversation when the subjects are things I can't or don't want to experience and the banter of talk is interrupted inopportunely by lulls caused by my passing out. Trying to think kindly of others, I suppose it must be really off putting to experience some one falling asleep right when you are expounding upon the trials and tribulations of trying to get onto the debate team.
Anyway, I was resigned and almost fine with the fact of living a deadened life in the present. At times even happy. Until that fabglorious day, when I awoke from a slumber spent at Provincetown Playhouse enjoying a production of Aria da Capo to find the desirous deep chocolate eyes of Solange staring at me.
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