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2000-10-12 || 19:19:39 || road trip to the sand dunes on the moon || i have seriously spent more time than i care to admit moving around that silly signmyguestbook icon on this page so as to a)not look so obnoxious, b)pretend i know the wily ways of html (it's thrilling! i have half a mind to change the color of this type but don't want to fuck shit up, as the kids say), and c)get you to look at it and think hot diggety, i wanna sign! it's a good thing conchita (xoxo) wrote me the nicest wee message in my guestbook or else i would have been in tears by now. so please sign it, will you? tell me what you ate for breakfast or what color socks you're wearing or why you won't email me back even though i am the loyalest of penpals and leave you the most precious gems in your inbox and how could you not love me for that? i'm dyin over here. i am listening to the microphones' *it was hot we stayed in the water*. it makes my eardrums hurt but it is so very beautiful. it's one of those albums where it feels like a journey while you're listening to it, complete with changing weather and long road trips and stopping at a beach off the highway just to put your feet in the water. love love love it. a while back becky and m and i took a tiny road trip to point reyes to find a beach. we ended up wandering around and found a mile long trail that led to a small lagoon. it was all foggy and cold and felt like another planet. there were huge sand dunes, hills and hills of them, and we spied a bobcat on one (a bobcat! it was really big and right next to the water and kind of scary). we walked and walked and it was like being on the moon. and m told us about *woman of the dunes* and i couldn't stop thinking of the story.. all the sand that got into their tea, how they had to sweep it away all the time or they would be covered. like sisyphus if he were a housekeeper. we crossed the sand dunes and found the sea, all snarly and angry with razor teeth. there were bits of jellyfish everywhere and we found a dead seal that hardly resembled a seal anymore, except for a flipper and a nose. like a big leather case with sea gulls feeding on it. it was so decomposed i couldn't feel sad for it, just curious, and when i suggested poking at its exposed stomach with a stick m got a little disgusted i think. so we walked further up the beach and found a huge piece of drift wood and pretended it was our sea couch and smoked cigarettes a while as the mist curled our hair. and then we craved hot chocolate and drove to petaluma. guestbook || notes || archives || profile || photos || d-land |