Can’t sleep. Haven’t slept. My brain keeps gerbiling (and yes, that’s a term) running amok in a tiny wheel. My computer is the only light in the room and a moth flocks forward to admire itself in the glow.
Last Tueasday I went to the College Perk and played the open mic with the rest of the band. This is a picture of Brennan simply because there hasn’t been a picture of Brennan in the Journal for quite some time.
Sigh – I don’t remember her name but she played trumpet for me and Robby as we (well, he – I just played bass) covered Britney Spears’ “Toxic”. Later that night 4 different people forwarded me the Nickel Creek version. I liked ours better.
Ha. My brand new computer has a bug!
Tiny snicker.
I’ve been thinking about my Father a lot, I think. It’s probably all the Father’s Day advertisements (the moth flutters off) being piped through the radio. It’s like I’mconstantly being informed that I’m missing someone. I keep thinking about how there should’ve been something more I could do, or how I shouldn’t have ever gotten frustrated.
There’s the feeling that as a person dies, if you woke them up, shook them hard enough or yelled, you could bring them back. The fallacy of death being like sleep. I didn’t TRY hard enough…
I just heard that my old boss from the Science Center died of cancer recently too. His was mercifully swift – less than a week from diagnosis to death. Poor Bob. Poor Bob’s kids. More Father’s Days to ignore.
A couple of days ago, playing the Herndon Festival, there was a booth from a local high school (urg, moth crawling on leg… hope it’s the moth) who’d been working with NASA building robots. They kept sending these multi-legged and multi-wheeled beesties into the crowd to draw attention to their projects and drawing people in and talking about the engineering behind them… I almost tried to call my Dad.
Sigh.
In any case, mouth tastes sour from lying prone. Covering my head at one angle, sleeping with a pillow held close, I lie on my back and think about what I should’ve said and I lie on my side and think about what I wish I hadn’t said and I lie on my other side and generally give things a good mulling over. I’ve tried sleeping on my stomach a couple of times recently but that never works well, and with the current beard-growing experiment, it means i generally end up with a lot of hair up my nose. Can’t focus on my interior monologue that way.
Last Friday, Transcendent Third invited us out to the Caribou Coffee in Olney, MD to open for them. As always, Love playing with the twins and had a great time, even though I got in trouble with the management for saying the word “whore”. Sigh.
Staying at Rowan’s has been wonderful – but I think after a while it’s simply too quiet. If I couldn’t sleep at 4.20am in most places I could sneak a television show or two. I could pray for a Buck Rogers or Knight Rider episode or something and as often as not, such crap is actually findable.
But here it’s just LEDs and lonesome.
