quick entry, covering quite a bit that's happened the past couple of days--
hot springs didn't happen. went to SLC intsead to meet up with a little further along.
getting gas at the Chevron a few blocks from where I live,I noticed on the little "books on tape" rack Voltaire's "Candide" read by Michael York.
I had to buy it.
how could I NOT buy it?
anyway, hit the road & listened to it after NPR fuzzed out (interview with David Bowie on "Fresh Air")
stopped off in Wendover, which straddles the Utah/Nevada border & had 2 beers & dropped 50 bucks. (which is actually a GOOD thing, as it's the first time that I've gambled in almost a year, after diagnosing myself with an incipient gambling problem after pumping my rent money into a machine--the fact that I STOPPED at 50, even tho I had my ATM card with me, is a good thing.)
grumbling, drove on to SLC, which I still feel a bit of a connection with, after having lived there for 5 or 6 years. toddled up to my old apartment toting a case of Nevada beer, drank a few with former roommate (with whom I was to be staying) & a few neighbors. went to a bar down the street where I discovered that, in addition to the fifty I'd dropped in Wendover, I'd also dropped said ATM card.
I hoped.
at any rate, I didn't have the fucking thing WITH me.
I checked. I re-checked. I practically did a strip-search on self. at the bar.
I had two dollars in cash.
fuck.
former roomate bought the beer. we drank the beer but I wasn't in what you'd call a festive mood.
two dollars. two fucking dollars.
saw a few old friends, but wasn't my usual, dynamic self.
walked back, searched the car in case it might've fallen out. it hadn't.
called the casino. they had it. joy of knowing where ATM card was replaced by chill of wondering what little adventures it may have been on in the mean-time...
decided to drive back to Wendover to get it. would be a fun little road trip, discussed it for a while, then decided that we were a bit too drunk & the adventure with us being shot in the back of our heads by a demented highway patrolman & eaten by same.
anyway, to abridge: got another friend to cash a check for me.
went to a punk show: slammed.
met up with partner: toyshopped.
got glasses after punishing eyes for years with contacts meant to be taken out after 2 weeks, instead, just kinda leaving them in for months at a stretch: stumbling around massive mall utterly blind with pupils dialted while glasses were being made. (flirted with a girl at a bookstore with the line: "You're about yay tall, right?" anyway, she had a nice voice.)
spent way too much, mostly on beer & magazines, the latter being unavailable in my village.
other stuff.
came home saturday to find a note taped to the door from my sister (who'd been taking care of my cats) saying come talk to her URGENT!!!! IMPORTANT!!!.
myriad of possibilities swirling in travel-weary head, went to the phone to call. dead. hmm.
drove to sister's house.
--You missed all the fun, said she.
--What happened? I tried to call.
& she launched into the story. there's a garage behind my house that's pretty much falling apart--rotten wood & rusting sheets of metal. I'd been using it to store some of my mom's things (long story, that) & apparently some kids in the neighborhood were dicking around in there with matches &, well, burned it down. neighbors saw the blaze & called the fire department which was able to keep it from spreading to the house, from which it was seperated by a few feet of dry weeds, & which contains all my worldy possessions, meager though they be.
this was maybe 2 hours before I came home. I came back.
it was still warm.
the fire had also taken out the phone service for most of the surrounding blocks, but it was apparently restored today.
that was saturday.
on Sunday nothing happened. went to work came home &, since I couldn't go on the internet, I read.
today I was involved in my first Incident at the prison, which I'll just have to write about tommorrow.
hot springs didn't happen. went to SLC intsead to meet up with a little further along.
getting gas at the Chevron a few blocks from where I live,I noticed on the little "books on tape" rack Voltaire's "Candide" read by Michael York.
I had to buy it.
how could I NOT buy it?
anyway, hit the road & listened to it after NPR fuzzed out (interview with David Bowie on "Fresh Air")
stopped off in Wendover, which straddles the Utah/Nevada border & had 2 beers & dropped 50 bucks. (which is actually a GOOD thing, as it's the first time that I've gambled in almost a year, after diagnosing myself with an incipient gambling problem after pumping my rent money into a machine--the fact that I STOPPED at 50, even tho I had my ATM card with me, is a good thing.)
grumbling, drove on to SLC, which I still feel a bit of a connection with, after having lived there for 5 or 6 years. toddled up to my old apartment toting a case of Nevada beer, drank a few with former roommate (with whom I was to be staying) & a few neighbors. went to a bar down the street where I discovered that, in addition to the fifty I'd dropped in Wendover, I'd also dropped said ATM card.
I hoped.
at any rate, I didn't have the fucking thing WITH me.
I checked. I re-checked. I practically did a strip-search on self. at the bar.
I had two dollars in cash.
fuck.
former roomate bought the beer. we drank the beer but I wasn't in what you'd call a festive mood.
two dollars. two fucking dollars.
saw a few old friends, but wasn't my usual, dynamic self.
walked back, searched the car in case it might've fallen out. it hadn't.
called the casino. they had it. joy of knowing where ATM card was replaced by chill of wondering what little adventures it may have been on in the mean-time...
decided to drive back to Wendover to get it. would be a fun little road trip, discussed it for a while, then decided that we were a bit too drunk & the adventure with us being shot in the back of our heads by a demented highway patrolman & eaten by same.
anyway, to abridge: got another friend to cash a check for me.
went to a punk show: slammed.
met up with partner: toyshopped.
got glasses after punishing eyes for years with contacts meant to be taken out after 2 weeks, instead, just kinda leaving them in for months at a stretch: stumbling around massive mall utterly blind with pupils dialted while glasses were being made. (flirted with a girl at a bookstore with the line: "You're about yay tall, right?" anyway, she had a nice voice.)
spent way too much, mostly on beer & magazines, the latter being unavailable in my village.
other stuff.
came home saturday to find a note taped to the door from my sister (who'd been taking care of my cats) saying come talk to her URGENT!!!! IMPORTANT!!!.
myriad of possibilities swirling in travel-weary head, went to the phone to call. dead. hmm.
drove to sister's house.
--You missed all the fun, said she.
--What happened? I tried to call.
& she launched into the story. there's a garage behind my house that's pretty much falling apart--rotten wood & rusting sheets of metal. I'd been using it to store some of my mom's things (long story, that) & apparently some kids in the neighborhood were dicking around in there with matches &, well, burned it down. neighbors saw the blaze & called the fire department which was able to keep it from spreading to the house, from which it was seperated by a few feet of dry weeds, & which contains all my worldy possessions, meager though they be.
this was maybe 2 hours before I came home. I came back.
it was still warm.
the fire had also taken out the phone service for most of the surrounding blocks, but it was apparently restored today.
that was saturday.
on Sunday nothing happened. went to work came home &, since I couldn't go on the internet, I read.
today I was involved in my first Incident at the prison, which I'll just have to write about tommorrow.