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22 june 2000
----- I feel floored. Maybe it was one of those days. I should have known something was up when the simple act of masturbation caused me more discomfort than it relieved. It was a productive workday, albeit from home, but I stayed in my bedroom, and strayed not downstairs to the living room, with its rather distracting entertainment system, the remote controls beckoning me, unanswered, the cries "C'mon dude, just one dvd won't hurt." I did not give in, and I'm better off for it. Still, I cut the workday short at 4:30, and headed 6 miles up PCH to the headquarters of my old company. It was the first time I'd been in the building since I quit in April. So many people were so shocked, so "happy" to see me. I joined Brutus for drinks at the Dume Room, and afterwards retreated to Granita with one of my old bosses, an extravagant meal, paid for by "the company," the company I used to work for, the company that's struggling so vehemently to hire me again... ... at $25,000/yr more than I'm making now. Just thought I'd make a note of that to myself.
Just got off the phone with the Detroit/Troy Marriott, comfirming my reservation and letting them know we'd be arriving after midnight tomorrow night. Before that, I went to the Hertz site and reserved us an el-cheapo car at $18.99/day for this weekend of music and soul in Motown. I feel so unready to hop on an airplane tomorrow, even moreso on Northwest, the airline which introduced the word "complications" to air travel. Saturday night in Detroit, from what I've been told, will be a monster jam session. IceDog went out of his way to call all of his friends from the ghetto (he didn't know he was white until he was 12), rent me a keyboard, and put together this incredible group of musicians to play in an inner city venue. Wamba and I are leaving from LAX at 4pm tomorrow, and I'm hoping to have some true soul injected into my veins this weekend. The entire trip is in the name of music, nothing more, nothing less. This is not a vacation for me. It's more of personal therapy session. I'll pack tomorrow morning, head to the office and pick up an important fax from manhattan, and then pick up Wamba for our journey to Michigan. I'll bring the camera, I'll write while I'm there, I'll hopefully find a local Earthlink dial-up to upload from the hotel. I'm _really_ looking forward to this trip. Not so much the impending travelling I'll find myself doing in the first week of August. I'm still trying to figure out if I can turn the whole thing into a weeklong trip. Here's the deal... My parents' 50th anniversary is July 29th. I need to be in NJ for that weekend. One of my good friends from NJ is getting married in DC on August 5th. I really feel like I should go. Now, should I just fly to NJ, spend a week in the NY office, drive down to DC, go to the weeding, and fly back? Or, should I spend a weekend in NJ, fly back to LA, _then_ fly to DC four days later and go to the wedding? The latter is looking like the more practical end of the deal, believe it or not. Besides, I can't afford to miss two band practices, and the miles alone (10,000) will immediately bump me to silver elite status for the year 2001. (which is a good thing in mileage accumulation alone, considering I just spent 50,000 miles to send Wamba and I to Detroit). The internet is evil. I just booked myself a flight into BWI for the wedding. The reception is at the Ritz-Carlton at Tyson's Corner in Virginia. I checked rates in the hotel ... $159/night. Kinda cheap for a Ritz-Carlton, yes, but I didn't reserve. Depending on my finances, there may be a more convenient (aka Econolodge/Red Roof Inn) option available. Why do I so like to travel in style? At least there's a good chance I'll be flying first class for most of the trip. As far as the 'rents anniversary is concerned, the fares are still hovering around $600, unless I choose to fly into Islip, Long Island, which involves a stopover in Cleveland, and a (I'm sure) rather nasty hop on a rubber-band powered propellor plane for the final leg into the Greater New York area. I do so hate propellor planes, as I have since my singularly frightening flight into Vail, Colorado over a year ago. Somehow I think I'll be stuck on the prop plane, but I'll give it until the 21-days-before-departure cutoff to find out for sure. Random writing ... not much to say about me and my state of mind, except the usual "horny, lonely, unsatisfied but dealing with it as best I can" -- what I really wanna do is sleep, but I've no good books to read to put me to sleep, so maybe I'll just stare at the ceiling for a while, losing my mind in the cottage-cheese patternings of suburban southern california, looking towards tomorrow as an escape from this morose, at least in a physical sense. Over and out. ~~~ In the forum:Do men have "periods"? 22 june 1999: : didn't write 22 june 1998: cherry inspiration : In the twelve years I smoked, I never coughed once. It's not quite twelve weeks since I've quit, and I've been coughing like I'm about to lose a lung. Please tell me this is just my lungs repairing themselves. If not, I'm going back to smoking.
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