Saturday,
February 9, 2002
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. bus decorations
. more bus poetry
"Dans l'adversité de nos
meilleurs amis, nous trouvons toujours quelque chose qui ne nous déplait
pas."
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old friends and dinosaurs I think I woke up at seven or so. Got up, went to the bathroom, determined that I was going to remember the dream that I was having (it had something to do with bathtubs), went back to bed. The phone rings at 8:30. Of course, I am sound asleep dreaming a different dream that I have also forgotten. SuRu is dressed and ready. So we ditch to idea of going to a different neighborhood and walk to the 'other side of the creek.' Stop to talk to some people we know. See an old VW bus decorated with giant magnetic poetry and godzilla. Decide to go over Mopac to Russell's. See Forrest taking stuff to the cleaners. He joins us for coffee at Russell's.
SuRu and I walk back. We see a homeless man walking down the street, barefoot, carrying some work boots. He has a hood pulled up around his head. He looks like a neighborhood Osama Bin Laden.
I shower up and a young friend comes over. FFP is gardening and shopping and stuff so Curtis and I go to Margarita's and sit on the patio and eat some indifferent enchiladas and talk. It's been a long time since I saw him.
Back at the house, my friend and I walk around the yard. We decide to walk to Upper Crust for coffee. More talk, talk, talk. We walk back by the motorcycle shop where some very weird characters are talking, donned in leather and chains and studs. We notice a house being torn down on Woodview. We stand and watch a bit, trying to figure out what brought it to this. Some of the wood for studs and beams looks pretty new.
The Dinosaur Within. A complex play with two intermissions. With footprints in Hollywood of faded stars and in in the outback tracks of dinosaurs. Death, relationships, taking flight, knowing the truth. I think it's an amazing piece and is was well-done by the Austin cast. Our friend Karen Kuykendall was in it.
We stopped by an outreach event for the ballet after. Someone filled my wine glass too many times. Spent a bunch of time talking to one of the young female dancer's mother.
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176
JUST
TYPING