it rained a lot
I woke up this morning confused after a strange dream in which I was trying to kill this werewolf that lived in some midwestern family’s basement. I was worried that I wasn’t going to be able to kill it fast enough because I had homework to do for my classes at the Iowa Writer’s Workshop. Time passed in a really odd manner, and the next thing I knew I was in this basement with about half a dozen werewofl corpses and no time to do my work. When I got back home there was a message on the answering machine from one of my professors informing me that I’d gone to all of the wrong classes that semester and was going to be kicked out of the program. No mention was made of the fact that I’d singlehandedly solved Iowas werewofl infestation singlehandedly.
This weekend seemed really long. It included a visit from my dear old friend Dave, who is doing well in Seattle, a meeting with Garth about Vigilance and our subsequent meeting with the head of the New York Butoh festival where we will humbly ask for interviews and pointers. There was also a very close game of scrabble, a visit to the Basquiat exhibit at the Brooklyn Museum via bicycle, a cancelled meeting of the League of Heroic cyclists, being caught out in the pouring rain twice, and watching Little Otik, the latest Jan Svankmayer flick. I’m a little “eh” about Little Otik. As great as Svankmayer’s stuff can be, his scripts could really use some tightening. It can get really fucking boring sometimes. Interestingly, I like his Faust a whole lot, and everyone seems to think that’s the worst of the lot.
The other interesting thing that happened this weekend is that Sarah and I got our tickets to Serbia. How about that, pal? Going to Serbia, going to the see the golden brass summit, with stopovers in Munich, Budapest, and Prague. Possible jaunt to Romania, although we might save that for a visit to Russia next year. A few years ago I wouldn’t have thought that I’d be travelling all over the place but here I am, travellin’ around. It’s really a lot easier than you think, the tough part is getting the money together, sez I. On the other hand, Sarah is the one with the gift of a good directional sense and planning acumen. I mostly just hang onto the passport, yell at cab drivers when they try to stiff us, and figure out how the public transit works. All pretty minor, really. If Sarah wasn’t with me, they would have found my corpse being devoured by bees in the desert of Turkey, dingos fighting over my remains.
Bees, dingos. You know, the sort of thing that can happen to you if you’re not careful.
