Thursday, July 10, 2003

OK, You Fuckin Champs:



I have been such an asshole. It's hard for me to keep up Le Bloggue when I have a lotsa shits going on in my life and all. So I have decided the way to keep the blog happy, and me happy, and most of all YOU happy, is to do a little interactive bullshit. It's not really bullshit, I just wanted to use that word because it's fun.



As you may know, the biggest drama deal in my life of late has been moving. Big ordeal. Art the Pepper stoked me in the comments section by saying that it took him six months to unpack his boxes after moving. That made me feel so much better about how long it has taken me merely to transport the stuff, much less unpack it. My beloved ex-roommate, the offensively efficient Jake, did all his stuff in two days. It took me one month. And here I sit, in a living room full of crap and boxes and no couch. Yes, it's a living room full of no couch. That's kind of like a fridge full of no food.



So I want to make this fun for everyone by asking you to tell me about your moving nightmares. Surely I'm not the only one to suffer. How long did it take you?



Today I was driving get sushi and passed my friend's house. He was standing out on the porch looking skinny and frayed, and I caught his eye and laughed and felt like a silly girl doing a drive-by, because I kinda sorta was. I stopped and said hi, and it turned out he was moving all HIS shit today to his very keen new pad in Los Feliz. God bless God and thank God and praise his or her name because my friend really really needed to find a cheap happy place to live, and it happened like a miracle for him, and he deserves it. Anyway, he was covered with droplets of sweat and they fell on my bare shoulders as we hugged. Poor guy had to move a fridge, washer and dryer, futon and all this crap in one hot July day and then make it to band practice, and also in the middle of it all have a meeting with his producer and all this. It's the kind of stress that you actually should be happy about, because it's all good stuff--but in the moment it's just gnarly strain.



Everyone is moving, it seems.



I'm just happy that both of us found good places.



I asked if I could help and he said the only thing he needed was a smoke. So I ran across the street to the supermarket and bought smokes and Diet Cokes and ran back and his bass player showed up and we took a moment to relax and smoke. It turned out the bass player had had the worst day he could ever remember having. I guess it was one of those days.



I think that when you run to the supermarket to get a boy cigarettes and Diet Coke on a hot July afternoon, it must mean something.



When I got home I sat in my huge and messy yard under the towering eucalyptus trees and ate my sushi and looked at the moon turning white up in the sky. I had the song "Dancing In the Moonlight" in my head, because they played that today in the bank where I was trapped for an hour in a bank-drama.



This song, with its little-kid piano, made me smile and feel all right. It has the best lyrics ever, baby.



We get it on most every night

when that moon is big and bright

it's a supernatural delight

everybody's dancing in the moonlight



everybody here is out of sight

they don't bark and they don't bite

they keep things loose they keep things tight

everybody's dancing in the moonlight



dancing in the moonlight

everybody's feeling warm and bright

it's such a fine and natural sight

everybody's dancing in the moonlight





xoxoxo

me



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