alden

At the Grind, Chuck allows me to bring CDs in to listen to sometimes now.

Chris, Chuck, and I were outside talking about stories of people puking, bleeding, and losing their clothes. The winner went to some guy that puked out of his window and onto the neighbours child, twice.

How quaint.

Chris was moving stuff in today. Our house is trashed. I found 6 US stamps though.

Two of my old roommates fled the city, owing me fifty-eight dollars collectively.



We've been making lots of friends lately that we can visit in other places. It is wicked-cool yo.

Dancing in the Grind is my favourite past time.

I'm also fond of the weird things we do sometimes. A while ago we were putting honey on stir sticks, and slurping it down. Sunday night it was shots of lemon juice.

I have one of those lemon juice containers that looks like a lemon, so we squirt the juice into the little tiny cap, and shove it into our mouths, sucking fiercly.

Crumpled face, sour taste, oh yeah.

Cheers.

cjg

Day 2 in the suburbs. After a late night of fairly cyclical internet browsing, I fell asleep on a loveseat. I abandoned Alden's suggestion of moving to the full size couch in the other room, and thus woke up noonish without use of my neck. My legs were asleep. I pondered lunges, but we decided to watch the full first season of Futurama. Maybe we will be subversive some other time, but right now we need caffeine.

cjg

I forgot to mention this in my previous entry.

As we strolled down Main Street towards the Unicorns' car wash show Alden fell in love with a girl eating noodles. He saw her through the big open window of Hawker's Delight and boom.
"I just fell in love with a girl eating noodles."

"Was it the way she was eating?"

"Yeah, and she was cute too."

Or something to that effect.
Odd and often minuscule actions and characteristics can cause the biggest crushes. Bad posture, crooked teeth, awkward mannerisms. How cute.

cjg

We should have had it made. Conversation-mania. Alden was writing, I was sewing. Crayons and my morbid drawings scattered across the table. We should have been nearly magnetic to other interesting people; in fact, I think we were, but we were still too scared to do anything about it. Break ice. There was a girl sitting across the room, looking intermittently at us. We looked at her and devised various plans to start a conversation.

Late night Grind quotes:

"I was just thinking about the nothingness of the void."
-Crazy guy, while ordering food and tipping profusely.

"So... Alden is writing a novel. What do you do, just distract him?"
-Chuck, to me.

"I have my own art. I'm sewing."
-Me

I sewed my big Neurosis back patch onto my green jacket. It was tedious as fuck and it feels good to get that project out of my way. Alden let me use his scone as a pin cushion. Kind of. He wrote, of course.
At 8pm yesterday we went to a somewhat guerrilla concert at the Main/23rd carwash. The band was the Unicorns and they played well. I felt anti-social.

Alden met up with a girl named Car-a or something weird. I still felt anti-social and they ignored me. (In my mind, for the most part.)

I had to resort to lunges to keep my legs alive.

And as thoughts cease to run through my mind...

alden

Last night we were standing outside the Grind, well, I was, and Chris just returned after peeing profusely in the men's washroom.

Outside there was this drugged up guy, sitting on the sidewalk against the building. People kept walking by him, and he asked them where he could find marijuana. He always said marijuana.

Some other drugged up guy told him to go to East Hastings, and then tried to sell us a watch.

Chris pointed to the ground in front of the parking meter. Two bills laid there, unclaimed.

"Do it. Step on them. Go pick them up," Chris says.

So I walked over there, stood in the drugged up man's line of vision, and quickly picked up the thirty dollars.

I swear it fell out of the sky. I didn't notice it at first, and yet we had been standing out there for a good fifteen minutes.

We'll buy a bottle of wine tomorrow to go with the cigarettes.


Later we sat around giggling mostly, drinking coffee. Chuck ended up pouring us a cup each of stuff that he was dumping out, after my suggestion earlier in the night. Four am, a third cup of coffee.

Chris turns to me, "I'm at the point now where I've just stopped thinking. I can still feel, and I can still take everything in, but my mind is completely empty."

"Perfect," I said. "You've got it."

cjg

[

mood

|

restless

]

I should have waited until I had something important to say for our first entry. Our being Alden and me. This is our community, in existence for our own narcissistic purposes. Not really. All I have to say is that it's after 3am, and we have won the contest. The contest of being the last people in the Grind. Yip, yip.

CJG