August 19, 2018

Back in Portland

Back in Portland. Weird night last night after an uneventful few days. 

I went to Eugene on Friday for a feeler meeting with PGL about Retard Vampire. She read the script and likes it. She wants to play the female lead in a production we're tentatively planning for the winter. This is good. Bad is that we're already getting flak about the name fro venue owners and booking people. 

Also bad—maybe bad, really, maybe nothing—is PGL wants me to change certain aspects of the thing: dialog and the like. I didn't let on how not into changing the play I am. She also has suggested (sensibly) a handful of ways we might skirt a title change without explicitly promoting the title. I'm open to trying. 

Not sure how rehearsals will work. I'm uncertain if PGL is ready for me to live in her studio apartment every weekend. Possibly with Jonathan and other Portland-based cast members in tow. We'll see. 

Also, be careful with this one, Williams. She's fragile. Don't turn this into ATS 2 unless you're very certain that's how you wanna proceed. Remember what happened last time you ignored my advice, Future Daniel!

Last nite was a trip to Zach and Kyja's house for beers. I had fun until I became maudlin for some reason, and then put Lydia Loveless on the stereo and fell into a K-hole. Or more accurately perhaps, a J-hole or an M-hole. I was sad, is all. I went in and sat with the ladies—incl. ML—but the melancholy overtook me and I drove home. 

I found myself screaming in the car at two am. It was not especially cathartic. I parked in the driveway and texted HYM the song that had been messing me up so much, Bilbao. It's incredibly good. It hurts me so much. Thank goodness H was asleep. Who knows what I would have said in that state?

This morning was Sunday. I went to Eclectic Kitchen, ate breakfast, and have been sitting around here most of the day. 

I'm still a little bummed about MJS and a little disappointed in myself about JNS. I wish I had a clearer focus or better handle on what I am trying to do here. 


Tried to get BAH to call me yesterday. No dice. 

August 12, 2018

Back to our regularly scheduled programming (Portland, OR)

Now that that wonderful idyll—that happy and delightful interlude—is over, we return to our regularly scheduled programming: got shitfaced last night on Mary's parent's houseboat, fucked JNS until three in the morning, and then felt disgusted with myself and slinked home. 

Woke up at 8 a.m. this morning in a cold sweat. Texted with BAH for a while during breakfast. I miss her. 

I'm not thinking about MJS as much as I was four days ago. Easy come, easy go, right? 


HOWEVER: Two in a week is slimy even by my standards. What are you doing, Daniel? What is your end goal with this behavior? What are you trying to prove?

August 4, 2018

Quote from Prospero and an apparent intermission (Eugene, OR)

Another good one. Lots of fucking sans hangovers. Homemade breakfast. Tread lightly, Williams, "lest too light winning make the prize light". THINK.

Addendum, two days later: I did not, in fact, THINK. And as such, took the rest of the day in what proved to be a rather ackward direction. Unfortunately, I am now in an ambiguous place. We shall see.

July 27, 2018

Last night (7/26) was thoroughly excellent

Last night (7/26) was thoroughly excellent. I hope to never forget it.

Forge a bunch of reference points to those moments—anteaters, the mighty Deschutes, sleeping in her 100-degree apartment—for multiple redundant ways to summon this memory in case some fail one day.

July 18, 2018

July 18, north of Eugene, OR (Exit 228)

Tonight was one of the really good ones. Don't forget it. Started as a regular Wednesday, but dang... it ended up being a doozy.

July 15, 2018

Agate Alley, 10:20 p.m. (Eugene, OR)

There's a female dwarf (!) singing "When You Say Nothing At All" by Alison Krause and Union Station and she's killing it. She sounds really good. 

I'm up next. Hope I do a good job. [Later: I sang "Because The Night". I did fine—people clapped. The version they have here is in B minor; I can sing it, but it's pretty low. Last time I sang it (at Candlelight) it was in E minor.]

And I'm back y'all: writing in my little blog like a teenage girl. But whatever, if I'm going back to drinking all night and fucking anything with a pulse, I might as well document it. 

Also, I'm in Eugene because I decided I needed a vacation. It's nonsense, of course. I'm going to Oakland tomorrow. I'm just here for the night. I sorta forced myself to do it so I'd get out of Portland—hell, getting out of the house is good—and do something different. 

And if we're being perfectly honest, I'm *strongly* motivated by a desire to see [redacted] again. We texted a bit and she brought up a rendezvous. Of course I enthusiastically agreed that it would be a good idea. But then I texted her with actual, concrete plans and she never replied. Fuck. 

But whatever, I'm kinda having fun. Every inch of this town is laden with memories for me; big steaming double-helpings of them. I've been to this particular bar with EMB and ATS (obviously years apart) and loved em both at the moments we embraced here. Or causally co-existed here or whatever. I can almost see myself sulking and halfheartedly participating in the conversation with ATS and her sister in the corner booth across from where I'm sitting at this moment. Memories, man! They're insane. 


I'll summarize the last two years... Actually, I won't. Later. Maybe. 

September 20, 2016

Toilet and trash can analogies (Las Vegas, NV)

After spending a few days driving around its back roads and state highways, I've concluded that Nevada is one of our most beautiful US states. 

It's incredible. Some of the places I visited looked like the surface of Mars or some other austere planet. By day, a billion identical rocks, all doing the same thing they've been doing since before humanity existed*; at night, glimpses of reflected deer eyes and thousands of hares, some bent on suicide by car. 

The firmament, seen from the mountains—I visited tiny Austin (pop. 192), snaking around hairpin turns in the middle of the night—is lousy with stars. I could see the Milky Way. I didn't stay long because I was worried the size of the whole thing (made apparent all at once) would overwhelm me. 

But Las Vegas is a toilet. My hotel has a sharps receptacle in the men's room for diabetic paraphernalia. Coming to Nevada to visit this place is like visiting Yellowstone so you can see the trash cans. 

* What event, I wonder, would qualify as the most interesting thing to have happened in those rocks' presence? They've been there for a long, long time. Outrageous comets passing overhead? Dinosaur battles? A visit from meandering Cthulu?

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