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09 may 2000
----- Flying is so surreal. Holy shit, turbulence, where da fuck did that come from? Um .. ok, better now. Where was I, oh yes, a multitude of souls jammed into a tin can hurtling 500 and something mph across the continent. Anyone mind if I smoke? I'm passing notes back and forth with a passenger five rows ahead of me and on the opposite side of the plane. The flight attendants are getting quite a kick out of it. Or not. This particular flight attendant tripped over her own feet after glancing back at me, dropping two trays of food in the process. It was the pilot and copilot meals. I felt guilty. She gave me good-natured shit about it: "I'm giving the pilot your seat number so he knows who made me drop his dinner." Um .. ok, what's he gonna do, eject me? Better yet, tell him to invite me up to the cockpit so he can bitch at me in person. I'll hang there for a while just for the view. Weird entry last night. I couldn't fall asleep and got really down on myself. It happens from time to time. Wish I could get up. I need to visit the bathroom, or "lavatory" as they so call it at 31,000 feet. Turn the damned seatbelt sign off? Hello? Oh, I get it, _this_ is my punishment for making the stewardess spill the captain's dinner, right? Just keep me strapped to my seat until my bladder explodes. And my butt hurts too. Big surprise there, I'm on an _airplane_, of _course_ my butt is gonna hurt. Almost halfway through the flight, I'm bored out of my mind. I want a cigarette. I need a bathroom. Pleeeaaassse, turn the seatbelt sign off. Home now. Ignored the seatbelt sign and waltzed to the back of the plane. The flight attendants gave me more shit, pulled out a seat for me, and I hung out with them for about two hours in the galley, talking and raiding the docked beverage carts for free drinks. Kinda cool, it made the time pass more quickly, since I couldn't sleep. Came home to annoying emails. The band website was down, and I don't know why. So I just rebooted the webserver, and it's working again. It's a new design, bits and pieces stolen from a number of different sites that I liked. There's no such thing as original web design anymore. It's just like architecture in that sense; steal a design you like and work hard at making it your own. Wonder if I can apply that method to my life as well... Anybody out there wanna give me their existence, just as a template to start from ... could be interesting. 09 may 1999: a lazy sunday : I said softly into the phone "Stop crying, it's all right." And she stopped. And my mother got back on and said. "You put her to sleep from 3000 miles away. How did you do that?" 09 may 1998: faking it : And it's so easy for me to fake it, and I'm not even aware that I'm doing it, because it feels so real, and I feel so needy, and she feels ... needed, I guess.
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