February 5th, 2006.

Afterwards I went to hang out with my friend Audrey and went over to the studio where she was recording to listen to the accomplishments of her cellist’s toils.

There are things you can never trade – for good or for ill. I have friends who will never comprehend my approach to Life. I speak of numbers and of scales, of cliffs and gravities and perhaps they’ll just never get it.

I suppose I can survive that.

This past week I was stupid and gave into a whim. I drove to California (yes, Pennsylvania – what can I say? I like it there and I’m not quite ready to aim for the real thing yet!)

I sat down and spent some time recording new songs the other day. This is my studio – kitchen table, 8-track, Little Black Book, and an SM-58 set up on Mara’s computer case. It works. I recorded “Allergy” and “Speaking Louder Now”.

Crossing mountains under shafts of sun – it was like armies were being led safely around one another, each lit by the gaze of a particular god. I guess no-one was interested in a fight that day. Crossing the mountains and in to blizzard, making the first tracks in the snow, pulling into a truck stop where men huddled over coffee and I decided against staying in the warmth, pushing ever onward….

I Love the drama of such edginess. The contrast provided by snowfall – the white and black and white again of telephone lines, leafless trees, the lone track on asphalt.

Audrey's hedgehog memorial - I was always flattered that she used one of my gifts to mark his place. Planted a tree and placed him in the ground. Good Gus. — Audrey’s hedgehog memorial – I was always flattered that she used one of my gifts to mark his place. Planted a tree and placed him in the ground. Good Gus.

Went to the MICA Coffeehouse last Sunday to watch people perform and to make people watch US perform. Amy went with us and agreed that the lead singer of the Robotniks here looks suspiciously like Brennan. Brennan, however, would never shake his ass in front of a 9-year-old girl. Or at least, we like to think that this is true.

California itself was beautiful. I gave few people answers as to why I was there, and generally lied to them. I won games of foosball, and rollerskated to Megadeth. I encouraged insanity and appreciated it as well. I headbanged to Iron Maiden and wrote to GWAR and performed really, really well.

While lifting a piano, my pants left unexpectedly. Luckily, my underwear matches my boots, but unluckily, this leaves me with one pair of pants!

I left at midnight after the Underground – decided it was time for the drive. I listened to friends back home tell me I was stupid, and I listened to friends back home tell me what they planned to do to me for their stupidity. I won’t hold my breath for their retribution, mostly because I’ll need every ounce I can get when they finally deliver the smackdown – probably aimed while I’m not looking.

La! Heading into oncoming winds and watching the sun as the world grows dark. Lovely Lovely sun leaving the Lovely Lovely land.

Always sunny when I leave California – not so much at midnight – and to complete the beauty of it all I ran my Saturn into a storm that paced me all the way home. Cell signal abandoned me in the mountains and my battery died shortly after, leaving me alone in the dark, racing home at 75mph in the theory that must of the roads are straight and hydroplaning uses less gasoline.

I’m not very rockstar, I suppose – I went to art school. There I learned to be moody, appreciative of narrative, hateful of – yet steeped in – drama, and worshipful of beauty.

It was an interesting week.