Diary 189

09-13-98



I can safely say this week-end has been...interesting. Friday night, Dirk and I took the Metro into D.C. Some awfully nice people gave us their day passes as they were coming out of the Springfield Metro station, so we didn't have to pay anything for the trip. In D.C., we went to the Capitol Grille to use the restroom. Man, they have nice restrooms! Paintings and everything. I stole a couple notepads for my personal use. And they give away tampons!

I wonder if they gave away condoms in the men's room.

After that, Dirk and I walked up to the Capitol Building and sat down on the steps in front of the house of Representatives for a while, facing the camera crews. It was nice. Not completely abandoned, even at 11:00, but no-one harassed us. I guess the camera crews were taking a rest.

You know this stuff, camping out waiting to get more dirt, is their version of sex. Reporters and camera people need this sort of thing to make their nasty vulture-esque lives worthwhile.

Saturday was ugly. Dirk decided (in his position as Illustrious Bandleader) that I needed to write music to a song before we could practice. I've never done this before, and putting deadlines like this on me only makes it worse. I think I cried at a couple points. Then, just as I'd managed to get a chord progression I liked for the verse, Dirk decided it was time to start practicing. When I didn't immediately jump up and run into the practice room, he got mad.

Then, he decided he didn't want to practice anymore, that he wanted to go home. Honestly, for a while, there, I gave serious thought to quitting the band.

We got home (not when he wanted to go, of course), and I'd calmed down enough that we made plans to go out later in the evening. His brother, Aaron, ended up coming along, and acted like a prick the whole time. I was glad when we dropped him off.

We went to Tower, and I got the new Rasputina CD. Don't get it. I think they've all gotten addicted to Crack. Distortion on their basses, inane lyrics, and Melora's vocals have gone down in quality and volume. I hear Hole has a new album out. I must say, I was not impressed with their new video. I hope they all die. I want to see them splattered on the news with their throats slashed open so they can never sing again.

I just don't like most female groups.

I had a fucked-up dream Friday afternoon.
Katie, Dirk and I were supposed to be doing research atop a mountain. It was in the middle of a sort of tundra, except it was hot, perhaps the summertime. We brought with us horses the size of buicks, giants. We couldn't ride them, and couldn't carry our stuff on them. In fact, I wasn't certain why we'd brought them along in the first place.

We finished our study, and were making our way back home when we saw another group of travelers approaching, on foot. It was all men with monk's hoods on, but we could easily see their faces. They had dogs with them, large grey dogs with the eyes of sharks. I remember Dirk telling Katie and I to be careful, because their bite was poisonous. Without warning, the other group attacked us. Katie and I were carried off by one attacker. I had the presense of mind to reach out to his calf as I was being dragged along and dig in using my hand, as hard as I could. This made him and the man walking with him stumble, drop us, and fall flat on their faces. Katie and I immediately jumped up and kicked them in the head. Meanwhile, Dirk was fighting off the other attackers with a sword.

While Katie and I looked around for something to kill the two men we'd hurt, they came to. One of them grabbed my leg and whipped out a knife. He told me it was a switchblade, but he was going to count to ten, tapping me with the knife as he counted. When he got to ten, he was going to cut me badly with the knife.

I woke up screaming before he reached 10.

Today was spent at the Museum of American History and the Museum of Natural History. We learned about sweatshops and taxidermy.

I bought a book about my cats' IQ, and a stuffed Rhinocerous. The Rhinocerous was on sale. We ate lunch at the American History Museum....overpriced and low quality.

I was contacted this evening by a guy who wants to put his journal on my site. It should be up by tomorrow morning. It'll be called (this is as of 1:03 a.m., so it could change) The Diary of 0010101. Check it out, when you can.

I'm dead, goodnight.



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