It is probably due to the fact that I spent all weekend moving to my new place that I stayed on the straight and narrow. Couple that with copious pot smoking, and I think you see a clearer picture. Moving seems to be one of the most hateful things a person can do. And this is the fourth time this year.

Weekend was uneventful. Had a great jam with my brother on friday. He was able to vocally work off of some of my blues riffs, like you used to hear paige and plant do. I passed up a chance to hang out with the Colorado Avelanche to jam. If you don't play music, then you won't understand. Also, I am not an Aves fan. Later, after hearing the stories, it sounded like fun, but my friends also had to hang out with the drummer from the band 'Chicago'. I think it was a bizzare seating arrangment hob-knob sort of package deal.

Got stoned before we hit the first of our bars on saturday evening. Blew my karma in the first thirty seconds I was there, half in the bag, stumbling over girls who deliberately put themselves in my path (I'll go over by him, make eye contact, and if he wants to talk to me, we'll talk. I don't know, should I smile? Will I be throwing myself at him?), some following me,(I'll just stand by him, he'll talk to me) and all I wanted was a table to sit down and collect my thoughts. Hit another couple of bars. Ran into Abby and Terri. I have this animalistic attraction to Terri, and I think she feels it, too. She rubs my chest and shoulder all the time. I like it, but feel like I'm being appraised like a thoroughbred at the dog show.

The three of us smoked pot in the girls bathroom.

Later, Abby leaves early. I think Terri is there with her guy, but I catch her watching me repeatedly. As she goes to leave, I reach out and grab her hand. It surprises her, but she realizes it's me and returns my squeeze. Surprised and the warmth of her hand, and the electricity, I give her hand another squeeze. She squeezes back, finger tip, to finger tip. And !poof! she's gone, almost like mmmmmmagic.

I think I'm the only one who thinks about something like that, two days later, even. I probably shouldn't even remember that.

But the perfection of form is all. Somehow, given the situation, the madness, the noise, the almost heaving crowd. Something seemed poignant to me about this. It might have been perfect in its form, but I would be as hard pressed as an ethiopian tax collector to give a legitemate reason why.

Best line of the weekend was by Jer. He sees this petite drunk girl wander by making eyes at him.

jer(so suave its cheesy) :"Oh, hey! All right, sweetie. Okay."

He doesn't get a good look until she's up close. As she lopes closer...

jer(look of shock, disgust):"Ugh. Move on cave-dweller. Stay outta' the sun."

And he continues on with the conversation, not missing a beat.

I died laughing, for a number of reasons. One because it was so casually heartless. You can't just toss something like that off over the shoulder to someone you don't know. Two, because I enjoy people for the characters they are, or want to be, and Jer was truly being himself. It takes a third person perspective.

I feel a lot better than friday when I ranted like a schizophrenic on mescaline. I smoked enought pot to choke a horse(1). And I also got out of the old apartment(2) and can now start raising my level of happiness at my new place(3). The hot tub is key. Once that is running, strangely, I feel my karma will fall into line. The lines that karma moves across are fast and difficult to follow, but occaisonally, you can find where its pinned down.

Either that, or I will end up with pruny skin and a girl who likes to soak n' smoke as much as I do.

Either/Or, but I really would like my karma back in line, at this point, if I have a choice.

Anyone seen my karma?

Anyone?

Wooo-hooo. Kaaaaarmaaaaa.