2002-01-11 || 9:57 a.m.

|| the only boy to kiss both the hand sisters. ||

anthony's here. i had gotten home late from work and was talking to meow meow when there was a buzz from the non-operational intercom downstairs and a brief 'ohmygoodnesswhat'sgoingon?' and running feet upstairs and the doorbell, buzzing. anthony with dust and the accumulation of stories from new orleans and austin and lubbock and laughlin. anthony who was just about to drive back down to san diego to the apartment he and my sister share, apologizing over and over for his giddiness from getting to stay for a bit.

i've never had a brother.

we split a budweiser tallboy and i made him a corndog. he told me about his trip, about the part where he and mike were remarkably stoned and got out of the car to watch a sunset on an abandoned highway. where it was so silent you could hear the humming of electrical wires. where a car would pass and remain within earshot for one minute and thirty seconds. it instantly made me jealous. i want to drive through texas. i want to wear kerchiefs around my head and i want to look over at the passenger seat and see my sister singing to neil diamond. dear kelly, can we please go on our road trip, please? to texas. promise.

we walked down the street to get a case of oly and sneak one to lucinder at her movie theater job. we drove to the alley and hollered and exhaled smoke on the freeway. i updated him on all the new east bay slang. we exchanged stories of our exploits and bad decision-making and there was slapping on backs and tugging of sleeves and throwing heads towards the sky to fill it with laughter. we met brook and jeff at the bar and told stories and it felt like we're brother and sister, his knowing all about my parents and grandma far away and real good kelly secrets. he knows that my mum was hot when she was younger. that my dad wears short shorts. he knows the smell of the back of kel's old truck, that awful mildewy wetsuit-del taco smell.

he's an honorary branch on the hand family tree. he's the one playing keyboards and wearing plaid flannel.

we drove back to the apartment and listened to johnny cash sing a will oldham song ('see, with these songs he's accepting his mortality. sad, huh.') and called and called my sister to convince her of our story about anthony being stuck on the grapevine and me going to help but me getting stuck on the grapevine and kelly having to come up to rescue us. but she never answered.

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