Feb 14, 2007

2/14/07

Paiboon is going to China for a couple of years for technical school. He’s leaving in a few days. He’s at Mom’s. I’d gone there looking for K. Hadn’t seen him in a few days. We hug in parting, as we never have before. and we ride a twisty, windy roller coaster chute downstairs while still holding each other. It was totally romantic and fun. At the bottom, I tell him to keep in touch and good luck and all that.

His demeanor now changed and he makes sexual advances on me and I back off, making it very clear I’m not interested. Again he advances and again I push him away.

Can I use your phone? I ask him. Someone had called in my abandoned car yesterday, which K was driving. And I wanted to know where it was. Maybe I could find him before anything drastic happens.

I grab the phonebook but am somewhere else--a gallery? A show before I can look for number. There are so many phonebooks there that I flipped through many out-of-state once before I find a Brattleboro one. Even still, something distracts me from calling them.

Earlier, downtown, I had run into Audrey Garfield and her sister and family who were visiting. Sister was very friendly with me, having remembered me from her last visit. We graduate from talking at a small café table to talking while under bed sheets together with her husband, though nothing sexual was happening or expected of any of us. It was pretty comfortable anyway. She sometimes felt like Taina and not Audrey’s sister.

She was telling me that Crown publishing was going to be contacting K soon for a deal. Her mother warned her against telling me, since I’m also a writer looking for a deal and she works for a publisher. But I am not jealous or offended, more fascinated. She then shows me the piece he’d gotten published--it looked like a tear sheet from a Chrysalis Reader. I was amazed--it was a beautiful, passionate love poem--obsession, actually was more like it. Heart-wrenching meditation of the names of the boys he’s infatuated or in love with. So Crown wanted to do a book from a Lao-American who’s coming out and struggling with that. I’m totally into it and happy for him. And this echoes, much deeper in the piece he'd let me read earlier, about his infatuation with a certain man, Teoun, who also shows up in this piece. Last bit of advice she gives me was that he was going to go cry his eyes out for a couple of days--this is what he’s told her last he saw her.

The day was getting dark as I went around looking for him, and I passed a guy who said he’s called the police about me car, it was parked, unoccupied for a long time. I said, Thanks, and that’s when I started off to my parents’ house, to use the phone, also on the off chance that K was there.

Throughout this dream, I kept passing Matt Fisher. He’d nodded or waved in acknowledgment. And he’s a sad vision, too. Always in a sweater, a backpack, always as if he’s just been crying all afternoon. But also, I know that every time I see him is because he’s decided it wasn’t all worth it to kill oneself and end it. That this time he was going to keep trying.

And I remembered acknowledging the amount of trust K must have felt in me and in Taina to have shown those writings to us in the first place. I’m pretty sure he doesn’t want to be publicly outed, not yet anyway.

random dram notes -- part 2

4/14

Shoplifting in an upscale shop--a group of guys. Are they really stealing? Thing just are always missing after they leave.

4/28

A friend is dialing 911. There’s a fire at Green Mountain Mama’s. The greeting was a warning against pranks. What did they say, I ask. They’re sending a postcard in stamped English. It’s OK we think, we don’t see fire yet. But we’re close. There’s smoke everywhere. I reach for the phone to call back, angrily. But my Dad says No. Well, did you give them the address? No. So I call back with that information. They say something I don’t remember. This is ridiculous, I say during the call this time. I could have just WALKED to the police/fire station and back already. I try to talk the operator into sending a cruiser down, just for a look.

**

I’m on some big field day trip. Orchestral. DB joins in the band after a while. “Song about a car crash” He announces “I’ll organize it as a symphony or fugue.” He’s playing keyboards? He wrote it. These are his friends at this highly prestigious festival.

Coming back on the subway, there are “bugs” everywhere--out in the open. Video recorders are stuck to the walls and ceilings--everywhere. You can hear the operators on the other end. They’re supposed to blend into the background, but they really don’t. A bunch of them look like eyes--of beasts--beady with lots of hair on the surrounding “face”. They even blinked. Others were scarab beetles that wiggled their legs.

**

We’re on a big tour bus getting dropped off. We all get off and the bus turns drive off and I ask everyone to say goodbye to the driver. It’s my dad. “Bye, Dad,” I yell loudly. I realize I’ve only got a sarong and a sweater. I try to look decent. I hear the gate, There are flash bulbs going off--I might be in a photo.

**

I’m at Jade Harmon’s house. She’s serving us dessert cake and dinner on fun colored plastic dishes that she says she uses also for dinner. She and Anneka abd Hollie are familiar with a game she just picked out that features Greek goddesses. T & Dana are there too. In the background field of the board, the letters read, “Chelsea Murders” (“Girls”). I’m not familiar with it, so Jade gives me bakground historical context.

**

T & Dana wanting in with threesome with me

**

Something about my conversation with someone and that person saying they’d had the same dream! At the same time? It was one of my first dreams, and I tried pretty hard to remember it and all my other dreams too.

**

after he’s done playing: “where’s my piece of cheese?” It’s in his burger and I already tied it into his shoe (the baby kid).

5/2

Getting in an argument with Eric. I ask him to play rummy. But he thought we were gonna play that tomorrow. I have to tell him how I play it everyday.

**

Marlon Brando and Kurt Douglass won awards for portraying returning war veterans in 1st and 2nd ½ of the century. Previous was for Manchild in the Promised Land. I can’t remember.

**

I’m at a conference thing at the Latchis with Christol and send her outside.
--wait-- movie--
a woman like Julianne Moore was sucking dick. Then in sequal she’s wearing some weird creature costume. And the dicks she sucks are diseased and disfigured and talk back. Several got bad reviews.
There is a steep rolling(?) cliff that we are climbing to see something.

**

(?) … about a culture’s mores if a baby has a 2nd mother, we always give deference to the 1st, unless the baby chooses 2nd mother over 1st. Must follow baby’s choices. It doesn’t know any better and have to watch out for that.

**

Some tacks had fallen on the ground and I talk to Christol about picking them up.

**

Laura Casey works at Hospice thrift shop and is dressing a customer. I told her I want her job. They have such fun. The customer just lost lots f weight.

8/14 [are these already posted?]

Captions to wallpaper / computer generated art. Old male monk is singing for us a very bluesy chant “I talk about it all the time”--about his labors and his work, his hard life. I was on a date with Yuz.

**

My mother has seen me for who I really am. She no longer treats me as her child.

**

I’ve walked through a door--a glittering spinning portal into my present world. There are many more people and things that happen here.. This is all I can remember. Story sharing/swapping.

9/3

Blood between legs. Was with JD. Both in truck cab in historic Brattleboro--working?

**

Kindergarteners. 11 am. Kids are there ready to tease me. Teacher retiring, turning into a bird.

9/4?

Downtown festival. I find lots of boxed cards, etc that Nancy had bought out ages ago. They were in their own display that I had never put out. It was my fault.

I start to make a display of this stuff including some furniture in the parking lot. There are already a few tables in the parking areas next to Coffee Country.

One of the tables I’m very familiar with--I’ve lived with it before. And I hate to compromise that spot by putting all this there, but I need to. These tables would have made perfect writing spots and for a moment I fantasize about setting up my office at one of them. In all this search I find lots of books--I also find at least one note to me (there are lots of them) about my participation in the festival. Notes of thanks, fan mail. I am bummed that I didn’t receive them back when I just did the performance. It’s been so long. The envelopes were already opened, too. But I know I didn’t read them before.

9/5/5

Advice to Tom Cruise: 13 bets. give is 2 weeks in autumn, when the problem is strong so they won’t die off. Dress?