the diary of antoine roquentin

Last night was SO fun. All day I got ready to go, I worked on my hair, worked on my outfit. I did a conditioning treatment on my hair, it felt so luxurious afterwards. I talked to my mom for a while. Lisa complimented me on my prints that I’d left out on the table. My dad and Lisa went to Brookings to go eat dinner. They asked me if I wanted to go, and I told them about the concert, and Lisa sounded really interested. She so would have gone, I think. She’s all about fun, while my dad is all about being a loser. Well anyway, after they left I got to work on spiking my hair. Jordan showed up in the middle of my hair spiking extravaganza–and I was quite bitchy, this one spike wasn’t cooperating. But after exposing the spikes to to the ‘surface of the sun’ setting on my hair dryer, they got rigid fast. Jordan kind of dressed himself up–the outfit kind of sucked–but I didn’t have time to dress him, I was preoccupied with my hair. After I got my spikes to stay, I was kind of in a lull, so I decided to make some tea–I needed a pick-me-up. After that, I got all my stuff together in my chinese box, loaded my last roll of 400 film into Lisa’s camera, and we left. I had my tea with me in the car, I was trying to drink it as we drove. Right before we got to Fort Dick Market Jordan’s car ran out of gas, so we had to get out and push it to the gas station. I didn’t want my tea to spill, so I put it on the side of the road, forgetting it until we were well on our way into town. I took a picture of Jordan near his car to comemmorate his first time running out of gas. After pulling over at a phone book to look up the address of the Masonic Temple, we arrived and walked in. I had a thing of change stolen from my dad, $8 to be exact. I was all “do I have to count it out?” and (as always), I love banking on people’s laziness–he just dumped it into the thing with the money and gave us the little mark on our hands. The first band was–okay. Oh yeah, that was Ape Shit. They had some good songs, I think. That annoying Robin came over and accosted me, but the music was loud so I could go “Gosh, I really hate you” with a smile on my face and she didn’t hear a word of it. I ended up finding my crowd though, Amber and Heather such. I saw so many of my friends and acquaintances–Stephanie, Ann, Will, Kate–and various others. The second band, the emo band, was okay. They put on a good show when they actually were playing but spent a lot of time setting up, tuning, etc. between songs. One of them was really hot, if my flash was powerful enough, I got a picture of him. The next band, Stalemate, was okay–they’re always “okay.” This was the only band where I could actually hear the lyrics, and they flagrantly sucked. God, I could write better lyrics than that, and that’s saying something. Anyway, then the last band, The Exploited, set up. They opened up with some garbled words out of the microphone, ending with something that was unavoidably “motherfucker.” The guitars started going, and they filled the room with AMAZING sound. I fucking loved them. Everyone was inspired to ersatz mosh–basically push each other–and I hope I got some good pictures of it, although I had to be at a safe distance for my camera’s sake (perhaps out of flash range though). Well, after the last band me and Jordan left. We went down to Pacific Shores to fool around, and I saw this abandoned chair on top of a hill–it would be an AMAZING shot. When I get some 400 film I’m going down there to take some pictures. I might even go down there with my roll of 200 if it’s a bright day. I have to have Jordan sit in it dressed in some creative way. I want him to look like the king of the underworld, I’m going to dodge his face. It’ll look really creepy. I can’t wait to develop this roll. Well, I went home and went to sleep, it was late when I got back.

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I was cleaning out my binder today and I found the blog post stuff I wrote in there when I was on the bus from Sacramento to Crescent City. I wrote it I think somewhere around January 24th, 2004. It started as a list of keywords to elaborate on later, then I just started writing a post in my binder. Below are the keywords with elaboration, and then later is the post I wrote in my binder. I had been too lazy to type any of this out when I got back–just too much to do. I’m going to retroactively post a note at January 24th to read this post.

Keywords with elaboration after dash:

“Marine World roller coaster” – I was in the bus, and I saw Marine World in Vallejo–it just brought back so many great memories of me and Kelly riding the roller coasters and having great fun–there was this one ride, this ship that would swing back and forth and we rode it like a MILLION times, we had so much fun. It was strange looking at the park again after all the years–how could I have thought that I would have gotten used by Taggart, who would have thought that I would love Kathy and Kelly more than my own father. It was kind of uplifting and depressing at the same time, watching the spire of that one roller coaster, Medusa, that we went on together. Such fun–but all in the past. I just felt like life was just a seesaw–fun and misery, fun and misery–but at that time fun was just a distant memory.

“Kelly hug, ‘When are you coming home?’” – I think these keywords were to remind me of before I left, Kelly and I hugged, and it was like the greatest hug ever. Then later, in the car, Kathy asked me inadvertently “When are you coming home?” referring to her house (and it was so true, that place feels so much like my home.)

“Sexual predator, hurt me again please sir” – I think these two keywords were about how someone had told me Taggart had a reputation for being a sexual predator, and the second about how I wanted him so much I didn’t care if he hurt me–just being close to him was enough. It was so Richard. Only my friend Mindy would get that last sentence, but she doesn’t love me any more, she got married and moved away. I loved Mindy more than anyone, but… Just another misery.

“Requiem for a Dream” – I think this is how I was listening to the Requiem for a Dream soundtrack on my trip away from Sacramento and how fitting it was.

“58 pounds over” – no clue what this was supposed to mean.

“Pictures in binder” – I distinctly remember this reference. I was writing in my binder, and I flipped to the pocket in the front, and got out my pictures of Taggart–and just felt this horrible wrenching feeling like someone ripping my heart out, and then I flipped to the next page in the pocket and it was the portrait Jared painted of me, and I just felt this warm, loved feeling. I would have been really depressed if it hadn’t been for that.

[Here is the entry I wrote in my binder]

Hello ladies and germs, I’m writing thisin my binder on the bus. I’ve been listeing to the Requiem for a Dream soundtrack, I just looked at my pictures of me and Taggart–it was a bit melancholy, but when I went to put them back, I saw the paintings Jared painted for me and I just felt this surge of love. Fuck Andrew. Jared knowswhat love is. I love Jared. Yes–in a non-prison-movie way. I hate always having to clarify that. We just stopped ast Sonoma, I’ve been plotting the major cities we stop at in my dad’s GPS. i guess he never uses it, he never asks me for it. I’m gonna try and see if I can get signal. I love Kathy and Kelly so much they are the loving family I n ever had. I didn’t say bye to grammie–I guess that was bad. I don’t love her. Well, I kinda do–in a way. It’s more a mixture of pity and greed that I feel towards her. Nope, not getting any satellite signal. Poop. I change buses in Santa Rosa–I hope it’s like this, only about fifteen people, maybe ten. But I know it won’t be. According to my GPS, it’s 1:44. I think when I redesign my website I’ll hide things around twon and put their latitude and longitude on the website. That would be fun. Okay, time for a CD change. That No Doubt song is good for now. You know, I am actually enjoying this act of writing things on paper. I should get a jornal for if the power goes out or Blogger is down. Or the world ends. That would suck if the world ended, I would have to write single-spaced and on both sides of the paper. Oh…we’re passing a goodwill store–how I wish I could mosey in and find cool stuff. I hate Andrew. I guess it was inevitable, he was right. I only have a few sheets of paper left, so now I’m using front and back. This guy across from me is trying to sleep in these seats. I kind of want to lean over and say “Trust me, it’s impossible.” I’ve been reading Lord of the Flies today, it’s becoming so surreal. IT’s really getting good. I just stopped being bound by the margins. I mean who cares about them. I guess I wasn’t conditioned well enough by the system. I feel a bit sick. The Man in the High Castle is beckoning from my bag, but I’ve lost interest in it. I haven’t given up though. I think I’m gonna work on Lord of the Flies, I’m not getting any younger. And it will be night in a while.

—

I’m in Santa Rosa–almost done with Lord of the Flies. our bus is late–eleven minutes late to be exact. The damn vending machine just ate my dollar. Fuck. You’d think somebody would put an “out of order” sign up. Losers. I was cold so I put on my trenchcoat, but I think I’ll switch back to my blazer when my bus comes. This thing is just too damn bulky. Oh, I should find a pay phone and call my mom! Nah, I’d have to move my bags. They are huge and unwieldy. Fifteen minutes late. This is such Deja Vu. Well, instead of it being really hot it’s really cold. This was all the gods could dream up for originality? God, I shouldn’t incite them to make my life interesting. It’s been damn interesting enough for a LONG while. Twenty minutes late. This is fun. Mauybe I should stop writing this–writing in public is kind of lame–everybody ends up reading it. Damn. I tore a bookmark out of this page. There’s no right margin. I hear diesel–could it be our bus? No such luck. I think I’m going to put this away, this guy is leaning over me.

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