Tonight after work, I went and met Jed and our old roommate Aaron and a few others at a restaurant uptown called Jackson Hole.  After that, we went down to a bar on 80th and Columbus, for a little get together held by almuni of Washington and Lee.  It was my first alumni event since graduating college two years ago.  I'd been feeling a bit nostalgic for school for the last few days actually.  The song "crash" by DMB, who I generally can't stand, always makes me think of school, in a really good way.  So I was  bit more curious about the even than I would have been had I not heard the song a lot in the last few days.  It wasn't tremendously fun, but it was sort if interesting to see a few people that I thought I'd never see again.   Matt, in from DC for the long weekend, showed up after a while, and we hung out a bit then took off and went over to Jen's place, which was fairly nearby.  it was too hot at the party, and I was tired, and Jed and Matt wanted to go as well.  I wasn't really talking to anybody anyway.  I wanted to see people, but I really didn't want to talk to anybody.

    Last night was much more fun.  Jen and I met James at a Village Bar, the Fat Black Pussycat, after work.  I drank a whole lot at the party the night before, so I decided to take the night off and just had a few three dollar cokes.  So after that Jen and I came back to Brooklyn and watched TV and hung out with Jed.  Jed went to bed after a while, so Jen and I chilled in my room and listened to music, got fucked up, and shot the shit.  I made use of Napster for the first time this week at work, and I downloaded a lot of songs and made a cd with the cd burner at work. I have to say, I'm very pleased with it.  It's a very, very mellow cd, full of plaintive love songs, hopeful and optimistic tunes, and just sort of sad yet celebratory music.  I like it a lot.  It starts off with a little Flaming Lips, then a wonderful Wilco song with lyrics written by Woody Guthrie in 1944.  Amazing.  then a wonderful Will Oldham song called "I am a Cinematographer."  Perfection..  I dig Will Oldham. The only one on the disc with more than one song.  Three, actually. There's a Yo La Tengo cd on it that's absolutely beautiful.  It sounds a lot like the Cowboy Junkies, actually.  So I added the Cowboy Junkies to the cd today.  All in all, it's a very sad group of songs.  If you can make it through the songs without wanting to slit your wrists, you'll feel really good. And not just because you didn't slit your wrists. I meant you'll feel good because it's so uplifting in absolutely the saddest way possible.  Anyhow, i made a copy for Jen today. It's simply a wonderful, wonderful late night cd to sit around and listen to with friends.

    Anyway, Jen and I had some of the weirdest conversations i've heard in a while.  She's been having some sort of fantasy about the people who work on the Long Island Railroad.  Not only does she have the standard men-in-uniform fantasy, but she seems to be enthralled with the whole lifestyle of a LIRR worker.  She passes their little hangout station everyday, and everyone just seems so nice and friendly and it looks like a big family and she's just happy as a clam in mud.  I think she mentioned about that sort of feeling of community missing from her life.  I recorded the tail-end of the conversation, but I missed most of the good stuff.  There's volumes of stuff I forgot that I wish I could remember.  Just funny and weird conversations.  We were listening to this song, which I hadn't heard in many many years, and I was telling Jen how one rainy night after I graduated highschool, I was sitting in the school parking lot with Jaime B@shore listening to this song.  It's really much more innocent than it sounds. She's a cute girl, and I suppose it was assumed I had some sort of thing for her.  But I never really did.  but we were pretty good friends for some inexplicable highschool reason.  I was never sure why we seemed to be such good friends.  But being the dorky shy kid I was, it was all pretty interesting back then.  I haven't talked to her in three years probably.  Anyway, the only thing I said about her to Jen was, "Jaime Ba$hore was valedictorian of my highschool.  She used to say we were best friends, but I knew we weren't."  Jen thought that would make a great opening of a book or story or whatever.  Not sure why.  Maybe cos she was fucked up.  Anyway, Jaime said shit like that all the time.  But I never really took it seriously.  Still, i'm curious as to what she's up to these days. And of course, I'm always somewhat affected by once-meaningful friendships dissolving into awkward nothingness.  She used to be really important to me.  and it's sort of sad that if I saw her tomorrow, I don't know what the hell I'd say to her.  I suppose these things happen. By the way, did you know that everything happens for a reason?  No, it's true.  How 'bout that, huh?
    But the night with Jen was good clean fun. talked into the night, and fell asleep around 2:30.  Some insect or another was biting the shit out of me a few nights ago, but last night I slept surprisingly well.  Too well, actually, since I was late for work.

---

 

I was just reading Amy's journal, Dear World .  I like her late-night writing.  She quoted me the other day, by the way. From an email I sent her.  It's at the end of her entry 154.  here's something she wrote that I struck a certain chord:

i don't want to worry about the future, this lonesomeness. i'm too weak to
be my own salvation. where is mom and dad? didn't they promise to be
here forever? i can't give up the idea that something external is failing me.

I think she's about 33.  Does that make anyone else feel sort of better?
I don't necessarily feel that way, but i'm sure we all think it at times.  Which is the kind of writing a really like.

The entire entry is really good. Maybe the best I've read of hers.  it's number 155.  I also like how simple she keeps things.

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