2001-07-26 || 10:21 a.m.

|| scowling at sidewalk, or calvin johnson you're dancing on my heart. ||

stomach aches and head aches and the shyest beginning of hives on the forearms. tickle in the throat and insomnia. looking different in mirrors and street windows. somehow i flipped a switch: no crying. no sadness. no analyzing of the situation even. numb. the body is miraculous in its ability to sublimate the hard parts- package all the black into tidy parcels with brown paper and twine and send them off on the conveyor belt running through the bloodstream. the cardboard is what's causing the hives. corners caught on capillaries: headaches. insufficient postage in the stomach and the brain isn't answering any phone calls.

* * * * *

last night i packed the car up with sweety friends to see calvin johnson and mark robinson sing. calvin johnson couldn't have blown into san francisco at a better time i think. we stood in the very front. close enough to want to offer shirt sleeves to wipe away the spit at the corner of his mouth. oh calvin. i never realized how small your mouth is. the best part. the part where i lost it and had no control over the howls and beatlemania screams coming out of my mouth. was when mark robinson sang the unrest song 'make out club' and calvin got up and totally wrecked it but danced and did that crazy lion growl that seriously does something downright illegal to me.

it was very nice.

i tried standing in the audience like a single lady. it felt funny.

i have very nice friends. hi elka. hi jeff. hi david.

but. today the switch has been switched back and i am a bit of a blubbery mess, covertly grabbing tissues from teh top shelf of my cubicle. walking on cold sidewalk with hands stuffed in coat pockets, scowling at strangers. i passed a boy on durant and made eye contact and thought: aaron cometbus. a tingly psychic feeling. is aaron cometbus rather short?

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