Chat before a jam

I'm sitting behind the drum set at the space next to the Tropic. It's a youth center of some type that Steve discovered. Me and Matt are waiting for the director to finish a phone call so we can have a quick awkward little jam session before getting ready to see a film next door. Dreamane's here. We're all talkin'.

Smoking

I'm in the middle of smoking a big heaping amount of pot before going to see The Other Bolyn Girl at the Tropic Cinema. I like going to movies when I have absolutely no idea what to expect. I like going to movies alone. I like sitting in the chair in my van. I'm getting pretty lazy about changing parking spots every day like I used to. I'm realizing that sleeping and living in a van doesn't require a complicated clandestine operation. Nobody notices or cares. It's cozy and simple. This is just the way things ought to be.

Alaskan Girl

Oh, positive, positive moments. Matt just asked "do you know that Alaskan girl?" I laugh, using p's and f's and air. "Nah" I fail to explain. Alaskan Girl is one of Mike's old, old 4-track recorded songs from when he lived in a basement in West Grove and wore stockings and nonsense to school. His project was called Zulu Sexual, and there were tapes of it. Matt's question reminds me. I laugh. My watch beeps. This five second stretch - today's recorded moment - went just like that. The girl's name is Isabella - Nah, I don't know her. But if I meet her, she can't ride on my handlebars. It already didn't work for Matt. He had fun trying tho.

We're in my house-van on Grinnell by Flemming. Mentally preparing for a film at the Tropic. Relaxing. I take notes on a tablet about the moment. Contrary to previous policy, I let Matt review my notes. Now he laughs too. He thinks he has one of the Zulu tapes: he's seen it in the past two years. His is recorded on an old Disney tape. Tapes, man.

Internetting at Eaton Bikes

I'm here at the shop, hours after close. I couldn't get a good internet connection at Bubba's, and I decided to get to a keyboard that does not require two dainty pointer fingers. Here I am. I have the key. I'm pausing from my business to talk to Steven J. Klopp. Steve. He stopped by here. We're headed to the Tropic Cinema in a bit. I was just using the internet to look again and see that my $10,000+ balance was truly no longer on my Bank of America card, and had, indeed, been moved to my 0% APR line of credit. I couldn't sign into my account for the line of credit due to a temporary case of the sillies on CitiBank's end. Bitches.