18:31 - Saturday, Oct. 02, 2004 flying cat my baby kitty.
she's coming down from a mountain park hike, held up in front of an orange tree, about to meet her first dog (a chihuahua) in the laundromat.
23:48 - Friday, Oct. 01, 2004 coughing up a hurricane
at the pixies show last night, on the little tv's they've got in the main area, the presidential debates were playing. if i hadn't been at this concert i would have been watching them (also, had i had a tv). but the effect in a gigantic concert hall with grunge-rock-surf-punk unclassifiable unbelievably loud screeching music coming from the dark, plus bush's face, silent, monkey-twisting mouth, probably saying 'terr'ists!' or 'eye-rack!' multiple times...
priceless. sad, too. but worth it in a way because i hear that bush presented himself as quite an idiot, which is AWESOME. if you are a stupid-face surrounded by calculating and conniving speechwriters, vice-presidents, homeland security advisors, etc., you want to act that way on national television so everyone, even the dense ones, can't help but notice.
it was pretty fitting the night before last that i had a dream that skipped directly from a scene where news had just come in that bush had won the election to a scene where someone was fucking someone else up the ass (nonconsensually).
i woke up, dreamt again, something about losing my frog or ted killing the cat, woke up, opened my eyes to nick laying silently on his stomach, arms around his pillow, elbows all up in my space, as usual. the covers were thrown down to encircle his waist. he slept silently; no nose whistling or snoring or jbrsh-mumbling, no throat-clicking or shifting. his body was warm. i was thinking, i have this warm silent thing in bed with me who relinquishes control of the quilts and dreams about things like surf-friendly ocean waves and revolutionizing music. and when he wakes up, he fixes me a fruit-yogurt-granola bowl. but still, there's this movement of people all around me who want war and capitalism and faster newer smaller lighter more expensive things all the time, and more sources of oil and cheaper meat and more alcohol - five nights a week!
what kind of place is this, that something so simple and perfect can be sliding around me like a warm blanket while something else inexplicable coughs up a hurricane outside?
