Saturday the 27th

I woke up at about seven. I rolled over so I wasn't facing the window and thought that I should really sleep more because it was my brother's birthday and I was going to The City with him and his friends and my other brother to see a band and there was no way I would get back to my apartment before the early morning hours.

I didn't fall asleep, though. I just lay there thinking that I should sleep more and questioned the existence of a God who wouldn't allow me to sleep a few more hours so I'd be relatively lively for the music.

Eventually, I rolled out of bed, pulled on some clothes, and stumbled out to turn on the TV and toast some waffles for breakfast.

The waffles were decent eating. I smeared them with peanut butter and drown them in fake maple syrup. (I think I've written it before, but to have a body like mine, you have to work for it. Most people think you can get one just by sitting, but there's work involved. Somedays I worke hard.) I don't remember what was on TV at first, but eventually I found Kill Bill vol. 1 and vol. 2 shown back to back and watched those. Excellent.

I left for The City at two-something because I was taking the bus from here to there. It's a long ride, but adding in the toll for the bridge, gas, and parking, I save at least five dollars, more depending on where I park. Plus, I don't get lost as easily on my feet as I do in my car. (I once drove into The City and circled it for three hours getting more and more lost. Eventually, I saw the sign that pointed me on my way out of town and I escaped. That's why I don't drive in The City anymore.) Along with saving money, I left so early, since the music didn’t start until nine, because I was meeting Heels, Johnny Logic, and their baby (who Heels calls peanut in real life, not piglet like she did in her blog in the pre-birth time) at Heels's sister's place (her sister and her sister's son were also there, so I guess I was meeting them, too) for dinner. The plan was to meet at six, but Heels told me that they'd probably be finished with the zoo and back at the apartment around five; so I aimed for five.

I did pretty well, too. I think I got there ten or fifteen minutes after the hour. Thirty or so minutes later all of us were on our way to Thai. And it was good Thai, too. (For those who are curious, it's near the corner of 40th Ave and Taraval Street. I have no idea what its name is, but it's with the trip to Sunset.) I had faith that it would be good from the moment we ordered because I've found that the Thai places that are only so-so warn you when you order something spicy. ("It's spicy." "Yeah, I know. I saw the little pepper next to the name. I like spicy." "But it's really, really spicy. Are you sure you want it?" "It's fucking Thai food! It should be spicy! Yes I'm sure I want it!") I got no warning at this place and by the second bite, my nose was running and my eyes were watering, but that's what happens when you eat huge chunks of red pepper. Yummy! And the breaded and fried yams were simply scrumptious.

Eventually, we finished and headed back to the apartment where we talked, watched weird internet videos, and laughed.

I warned the baby about the dangers of playing Risk with his parents. I don't think he understood, but I think that the earlier he hears about it, the better. Plus, the one time he does convince them to play the game with him and things go... wrong, I can say I warned him. (No, I'm not that cruel, I plan on warning him when he's old enough to actually understand what I'm saying.) It's not that his parents are evil when it comes to playing Risk, it's just that when it comes to the ethics in the game, they don't see eye to eye on what's ethical: one plays the game more like it's the real world and the other plays it more like and idealized world. The one time I played the game with them reinforced why I had making non-aggression pacts with other players, just like the real word, betrayal comes around eventually.

Anyway, I thought we were having a good time and was surprised to look at the clock on the wall and see that it was after nine. Heels's sister told me the easiest way to use the public transportation to get to the club.

I got there about quarter to ten. My brother and his friends and my other brother weren't there yet, but that was okay. He told me that they were all meeting at one of his friend's apartments at nine and planned on getting to the club around ten.

A three piece band (one guitar, a drummer, and a piano) was playing. They sounded a lot like the B-52s, but more rocky. (Now, of course, I have the "Rock Lobster" running through my head. That's the way it is with the B-52s, isn't it? Just think of the name and one of their songs traps itself into an endless loop in your head. Not that it's a bad thing.) I liked 'em. I wish I could have heard more of them, but I only heard three or four songs before they left the stage. That was a little after ten.

The lights came up and I could see the place better. It was small, very small. The stage barely fit the three people who were carefully disassembling their equipment. I think there were about twenty people then and, to me, the place already felt crowded. And it started to get hot. There were also two TVs and a projector that showed the band while they were playing. I didn't, and still don't, understand the need for these, the place was so small that you could see the stage fine from almost anywhere.

My brother and his friends and my other brother showed up about twenty minutes later, which was about ten minutes before the next band started playing. I gave him his gift (Robot Chicken) and was reintroduced to many of his friends.

The second band was made up of two guitars and the drummer. This band's music was very punk, but the girls weren't dressed very punk. I liked them. Their biggest problem was the long pauses between songs, even though they had a play list taped to one of the mic stands.

At one point, I turned to my brother, who wasn't celebrating his birthday, and asked him if he missed bass guitars as much as I did. He did, and he said he also missed it when having two guitars on stage meant one played lead and one played rhythm. I agreed with him about that. I hoped the next band wouldn't have those problems, but they did.

Watusi Zombi was their name and from Japan they came. The make-up of this band was like the last, except they were guys. They started the first song with a sound that reminded me of Radiohead and then blasted their way into a Slayer sound and flopped back and forth for a while. That was awesome. The problem was that each song was structured that way and, to my ears at least, got boring. Although I did really like one of the songs, it was either three from the end or two from the end, by that point I stopped paying attention to the transitions between songs. They ended the set by moving the drum kit off the stage into the audience and giving the drummer a solo. The two guitarists joined him there kinda dancing and kinda playing. Most people seemed to think this was the greatest. Me? I thought it was like bad sex: there was movement and noise and even though the climax lasted a decent amount of time, it was ultimately a weak one that was totally unfulfilling. I think I'm in the extreme minority, though. (Probably a minority of one.)

The final band of the evening was the one I came to see: The Dead Hensons. This is a band that covers songs from Sesame Street and The Muppet Show. They were both amazing and a disappointment. Amazing because they played all sorts of wonderful songs that I haven't heard in a long time. When was the last time you heard the classic "We All Live in a Capital I"? I bet it's been a while. Disappointing because the eight members didn't really fit on stage (especially the guy who plays trombone), there were several minutes between each song, and most of them seemed to have a bit too much to drink. They sounded great, though.

My brother who celebrates his birthday later in the year left before the set was over, I think at about 12:45. I should have left with him. When I started to think that the show was almost over, I pulled out my bus schedule to see what time I had to be at the stop. 1 AM. I pulled out my watch, it was 1:15. The next bus? 6 AM. Shit.

The music ended twenty or so minutes later. I hopped in a cab with some of the others and we rode to the apartment building they all met at earlier in the day. We took the long ride up the elevator and sat around talking for a while. (We also watched internet thing (which had the caption "Oh, internet, you've done it again.") that shows one dog screwing the other and as the one on top pulls out it vomits, then it reverses itself so you see the vomit fly up into the dogs mouth and the humping begins again. Very odd.) Eventually, they all decided that they wanted to sleep.

At that point, 2:30 I think, I figured sleep wouldn't really help me because I was ready to get out of the city and back to my place. I walked with my brother and his friend to his friend's car so she could get her sleeping gear and walked them back to the apartment building. We parted there. They went back in and I started walking down town.

I saw bodies in doorways covered with blankets and/or sleeping bags. I saw a couple on a corner shooting up. I was offered pot, twice, and crack and a diamond bracelet. Some guy on the other side of the street tried to get my attention by calling me "fatty" and "fat boy." I saw a girl with her hands down the front of a guy's pants while he was on the phone shouting, "I need you to tell whoever has my keys to get them to me! I gotta get in, man!" I couldn't blame him for being eager.

A little after four, I made it to my destination, an all night diner that's not Denny's, but may as well be. I had some water and pancakes and read my book for the next hour. When I was through I walked to the buses earliest stop, which picked up at 5:45. I tried to read some more, buy I was tired and my eyes wouldn't focus properly. I listened to music, instead.

The bus was on time. For as long as I can remember, I haven't slept well in moving vehicles, but I dozed. I'd hear the beginning of a song, drift off, and come back for the end. I did this for two and a halfish hours.

I opened the door to my apartment sometime after 8:30, but it still wasn't nine. I dropped my bag on the floor in front of the door and pulled my shoes off, throwing them into the kitchen. As I stumbled toward my bed, I stripped off my clothes. I climbed into bed and pulled the covers up over my eyes, there was too much light coming through the blinds.