the short answer
riding the chinatown bus east to get to NY: good. meant taking the backroads up the eastern shore and over the bay. neurotic driving = no sleep, though.
good restaurants being closed down in NYC: suck.
no berimbaus for sale that I could find: a mixed blessing probably, much like my grandfather.
Indian food: varies wildly, also much like my grandfather.
seeing Jandek: awesome. just creepy enough to count, a little weird, vaguely offputting, but still awesome.
dunkel in NYC: surprisingly credible.
taking the bus to DC: both good and bad. a sweet torture. once again no sleep. two nights of no sleep = mild delirium, probably.
sleeping in the bus station: like a derelict, baby.
DC: surprisingly short on good places for breakfast, apparently.
the music store: good, but too much money to lay out for the sipped n' slurped discs. best to root around a little.
the book "Goat:" bought that morning, finished that day, well worth your time. esp. dug the pages re. talking with the fox. read it.
the movie "broken flowers:" went in open to the possibility of once again trying to make up for no sleep, but stayed up and watched it. mr. murray has redeemed himself for "the razor's edge" now.
finding sign of the whale (an old pub I liked) again: good, although they played bad music there at the end.
hangin' with Claire again: awesome.
seeing Carbon Leaf: pretty good. a shorter set than I was expecting.
randomly sharing a cab with a girl who turned out to have gone to school with my good buddy Ben: I think I startled her with my effusive assertions that she should get in touch with him, come to see him, and sawn and sawn and sawn. I'm a big one for effusive assertions, though.
being called while at the pub and being asked to come in to work at ten frigging o'clock the next morning after once again riding the dirty bus late at night for hours at a time, taking another cab to the other bus station where I had left my car days earlier, driving home and arriving at 5:30 AM: roughly three hours of sleep.
the weekend: so far, so good. more on that later. I'm not finished with it yet.
good restaurants being closed down in NYC: suck.
no berimbaus for sale that I could find: a mixed blessing probably, much like my grandfather.
Indian food: varies wildly, also much like my grandfather.
seeing Jandek: awesome. just creepy enough to count, a little weird, vaguely offputting, but still awesome.
dunkel in NYC: surprisingly credible.
taking the bus to DC: both good and bad. a sweet torture. once again no sleep. two nights of no sleep = mild delirium, probably.
sleeping in the bus station: like a derelict, baby.
DC: surprisingly short on good places for breakfast, apparently.
the music store: good, but too much money to lay out for the sipped n' slurped discs. best to root around a little.
the book "Goat:" bought that morning, finished that day, well worth your time. esp. dug the pages re. talking with the fox. read it.
the movie "broken flowers:" went in open to the possibility of once again trying to make up for no sleep, but stayed up and watched it. mr. murray has redeemed himself for "the razor's edge" now.
finding sign of the whale (an old pub I liked) again: good, although they played bad music there at the end.
hangin' with Claire again: awesome.
seeing Carbon Leaf: pretty good. a shorter set than I was expecting.
randomly sharing a cab with a girl who turned out to have gone to school with my good buddy Ben: I think I startled her with my effusive assertions that she should get in touch with him, come to see him, and sawn and sawn and sawn. I'm a big one for effusive assertions, though.
being called while at the pub and being asked to come in to work at ten frigging o'clock the next morning after once again riding the dirty bus late at night for hours at a time, taking another cab to the other bus station where I had left my car days earlier, driving home and arriving at 5:30 AM: roughly three hours of sleep.
the weekend: so far, so good. more on that later. I'm not finished with it yet.