Somehow I got up the gumption to ride to New York on my motorcycle this weekend even though I knew there was an enormous chance that it might rain. Why not? Hell, Cowboys do it. I have raingear, and besides, that shower after getting cold and wet and almost losing your life feels like God himself is washing you. Or maybe even Mary Magdelin. Na, God would do a better job.

So after a very refreshing meal, not thirst quenching so much as - that was just a good time, I went back home, saw the rain cloud looming over Buffalo and ran around like a teenager hiding weed. I dropped the Billy off at the ex's (the friend thing is working, although I know the hammer will fall any day now)and rode away in the rain.

I won't get into details about the weekend other than I made my nephew the coolest kid in school by riding to (because we were late) his first communion/conformation on the bike and parking right in front of the church. He jumped off and it felt good to say, now where, rockstar . . .

I saw my sister start to smoke again because her son's father is a dick, and she was freaked out when I asked her for the cigarette, inhaled, blew the smoke out my nostrils and walked away. I said, yeah Kath, there are some things you might not know about me, as I, you. With that exception, let's keep it that way. You have to understand, being the youngest of three sisters, I was watched growning up. And rightly so, and I love them for it. But now . . .

So anyway, it was fast, and I left this morning praying that the rain would hold off. It did, and I started to make incredible time. I was jamming to "I've Been Waiting for a Girl Like You," to make me believe I was in the middle of an 80's movie (which worked) when I saw the cloud.

I was about an hour and a half away - Dansville - when I thought, no rain gear needed, it's just sprinkling, I'm almost home.

What a horrible, horrible, stupid decision. I'm still cold and have every sweat I could find on right now. And my bike started getting pissed at the end because it too started to shiver (too much water in the carbs or bad gas, I don't know). But of course I made a promise to God that I would give it a look see tomorrow, if it would just get me home.

And here I am. That is of course after a scare with a potential virus. Fucking computer. Well, at least we'll get sick together.

Oh and by the way, Fisher-Price isn't bad. It's not them . . . it's me. It's just that the time was wrong.

I too, should clean my apartment. Um I'll get the beer, and y'all can help. We'll make it a game. Whaddya say?

I'm actually knee deep in DEJA VU, holy shit that was weird. I was here before. Fuck me. Hold on.

Okay it passed. Well look I had a phenominal day which included me talking to the VP of F-P describing Camus' ideas of absurdity, as analagous to a working corporate America. I hope I get some work out of it.

And then I saw my buddy with his girlfriend and lost all hope that indivuality can occur in a relationship. Oh I remember being there. It's great, but it blows. Imagine a healthy relationship? I can't at this point, although me and chapter 19 are hitting it off pretty well.

I shake my head at stupid boys who would rather lose who they are than find out who they might be. Fuck it.

funny journal entry forthcoming.

Anyone else feel like screaming or taking a run or walking down the middle of elmwood? I'm here and I do have a jacket for the winter-like weather.

hey, let me know.

I would really like a goddamn cigarette. Whiskey is no longer working.

Okay . . . the polls are in, the cards are dealt, the coffin is shut, here's what happened.

I did not get up early despite ample opportunities. I didn't get up late, but not early either.

But what's more, I dreamt last night. Oh my God did I dream. And guess what came back . . . yes, horrific tidal wave dreams. It was amazing. I haven't had those in I don't even know when.The only thing I do know is that something is wrong when I have those dreams. So what's wrong?

Ironically, I was fishing when the waves started to come in. Does that mean that I wanted them to come back, subconsciously?

I'm going to work sans coffee. I ran out of filters.

Life is so hard sometimes

we're going to try something here.

I'm going to go to bed early. Right after I'm done typing. I've been falling asleep everywhere lately, and I'm hoping this will cure it. More of a problem is the complete opposition my body has to waking up. In either case, let it be known, I will sleep soon.

Oh yes. This is an experiment. I will attempt to wake up at 7am tomorrow morning and take a walk with me dog to get a cup of coffee and potentially read a book before I have to work. We shall see if this works.

It's sort of like when you were a kid playing basketball, even though people without hands were better than you, and you said, I'll ask her/him out if I make this shot. It's come down to that.

If this doesn't work, I will boycott sleep all together. Who's with me . . .

Would it be too much to ask for a small bout with insomnia?

wake up.

wake up you have stuff to do. You know you want to get it out, but the sleep wants you. But hell, like it matters. wake up.

As he says this to himself, head bobbing over the keyboard, rain falling, cars whizzing by, sirens wailing, the phone rings. He thinks it's her, but of course it's Greg.

I'm in love.

Really.

I think so.

That's great man. I think, well no . . .

Shit no parking spots can I call you back.

Call me tomorrow. Thanks brother, you did it.

Did what.

I'm awake.

You in love?

That depends. I have to write. It's a good night for it.

I found a spot.

Me too.