2002-02-20 || 3:44 p.m.

|| the weekend, eighteen frames a second ||

scenes from a movie, my movie:

in the bathroom upstairs: i am wearing michael's old t-shirt and cutting my hair and it is just not going right and i am yelling and cursing and spitting at my reflection and we leave for the airport in one hour. michael is slinking on the toilet and becky is sitting by the sink offering compliments and cass walks in, a record in his hand. 'how's the haircutting?' he says, and notices our expressions. owen walks in. 'how's the haircutting?' he says too, and i am grabbing parts in the back, i am yelling at michael to help me, i am cursing under my breath and this is how we spend the last hour in portland.

in a backyard: it is very cold, we are shivering in our coats and wintry things seated in a circle around a milk crate in folding chairs that have sunk slightly into mud. there are lights strung up along the garage wall, dead hydrangeas that didn't make it through snow and cold, the most lovely lantern casting green light around us. we are smoking and listening to conversations. one ring of girls to our left is all kneesocks and ragged skirt hems, hand knit scarves and glasses. i hear one yell 'i wish i had pointy boobs!' and expect them to break into song. another ring of kids to our right represent the ailing 'fancy lad' population, black coats and black hair and angular faces, scowling. we stay in our seats and smoke more cigarettes although our lungs protest. we wish the milk crate is a fire pit. in the basement of the house behind us is a dance floor, a few turntables, a bar michael made and tables and chairs. there is dancing and talking and body heat in there, the pbr cans we left near the dance floor, the keys to the van i want to drive home in fog.

on the ferry crossing the columbia river: we expect charon to knock on the car windows with skeleton fingers to collect the fare, it is so foggy and still and dark. inside the cab of the truck we are breathing artificial heat, we are existing on lemonheads and red hots won at the arcade in long beach, we are dropping the ends of our sentences to stare out at ghosty trees and lights.

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