written in the hotel.
* * *
We drove through thick solid darkness that may well have been Void for all we could see. I mean, maybe it was the travel fatigue or maybe it was the stream of horror novels I consumed at an impressionable age, but I honestly felt for a moment that we were creating a temporary reality under our spinning tires, one that dissolved silently and painlessly behind us. Grey highway candy floss, blowing away in the wind and snow.
* * *
Going to P.E.I. Yup. Four single student teachers on the loose. I mean, properly speaking, I'm married & two of the other girls are engaged. And we're going to the job fair, not on a wild road trip. But you know, whatever. We're the Hard Care Logo of the teacher's college set.
That's actually a really funny comparison, since the room is full of résumé packages and Pipefitter's just given us permission to use her anti-wrinkle clothes spray. It's a far cry from killing a goat. And yet we remain So! Fucking! Hard!
I of course am John Oxenberger, writing beautiful obsessive nonsense in his notebook.
"Johnny, your fucking writing is nuts. You're not taking your medicine; you're fucking fueling something dangerous."
The whole thing's rather spur of the moment, rather rash. A casual conversation in Tuesday planted the seed, and several manoeuvrings later here I am. My own personal Joe Dick, Billy Talent and Pipefitter are not girls I know terribly well, but the rarest of lucky breaks has broken over my head like an ocean wave: I don't know them well, but we have bonded this afternoon and I feel quiet. It's hard for me to get to the point where I can be quiet with people; hard to find the stillness and trust to simply sit still and think. I think Marcie was the last one. Moreover, when I want to talk I can talk about whatever's on my mind without worrying about these girls thinking I'm weird. Rare. This makes me happy.
I think I need to sleep. It's been 2 days of excessive work in preparation for this weekend (I had no idea how much work it would take to convert a résumé to a CV!) not to mention that on Tuesday night I had to write 2/3's of a 30 minute presentation for the next day. Reverse engineering projects is not fun.
* * *
3 years ago today: fireball '99
