i’m in boston, at kelley and dan and serge and raphael and crusty john’s. i slept in that closet again but i didn’t wake up thinking that i was in a safe in a sinking ship again but i did have a dream that i was putting a nice pizza in a really hot oven and almost burned and woke myself up hitting the wall with my elbow. i have a show on saturday at risd but i can’t bring a lot of outsiders (?) so maybe i shouldn’t even mention it. aw, whatever, if you want to go email me and maybe we’ll meet up beforehand and you can storm in as my entourage. hold on, i’m going to let dan wars in:

My to do list from a few days past: 1- Rolling Stones: I am waiting, Aftermath LP 2- Sex Pants 3- Bath Time, Soak Head 4- Mail Letter to BJ 5- Party at Foley’s 6- Cripple Avengers - Midnight 7- Show (?) at HOSS 8- Listen to Metallica, Kill Em All , backwards 9- BAF 10- Cook Spaghetti.

i feel funny. i just ate a lot of candy / soda, played some hide-and-go-seek, watched some really good daffy duck, then baby jessica came over and we watched george pal’s “time machine”. rich houston gave me a really good marker tattoo (of queztlcoatl) using every color of shonpie marker. i gave him a really good one on his whole back of me and mike leslie and larry blackmon (from cameo) in a motorbike gang riding out of a massive fire. now i’m listening to 36 chambers for the fourth time in two days, plus i changed the lighting in my room and it’s like i’m in a new room. i’m gonna wash my face, eat some toast, and maybe watch that “freddy the freshman” cartoon i like so much… oh, the telephone…

last night i ate a pomegranite that had been kicking around since christmas but i threw away half bacause i thought it was making me sick but in actuality what was making me sick was all the dust on my hands from sorting about a thousand 3.5″ computer disks (in preparation for making a party dress for you-might-guess) combined with an unshakeable suspicion that i was eating some sort of insect colony or future nanotech apartment complex.

this morning i had a dream in which i was singing “jla dreamer” to a block party crowd that included superman, the green arrow, the green lantern, wonder woman, and aquaman. they were into it and i started to cry. last night i was made aware of a show that john bean is putting together that might take place in the old Space, on harding street (john lives one floor below it in what to my chagrin is being referred to as “the spacement” (but since i inadvertantly coined the term i’ll just chagrin and bear it)). i let it be known that if i were to be on a stage in the old Space space i would probably bawl my eyes out.

today is soda day and i have prep work to do. i’ve got to find the best hiding place for when we play sardines.

teresa johnson sarroca came over and against my wishes we played trivial pursuit. i feel like trivial pursuit used to be fun but now as the years do go on and the cards don’t it has turned into miserable encapsulated drudgery. i had to keep leaving the game to make toast / stay sane.

today for the second day in a row i went to the kelley square flea market. me and rich houston bought tons of candy and the guy there who sells 5 for a dollar candy bars remembered us from last month. that’s right, everyone, soda day is fast approaching.

kelley parsons really likes kelley square because it’s spelled the same way as her name. i really like kelley square because it’s a real freakout of an intersection- six roads coming together with no traffic lights or stop signs or rotaries or anything to guide you, just an assortment of islands and an odd state one achieves within its confines that’s a mixture of temerity and regional omnipotence. plus the discount oasis that is kelley square flea market, the quiet nest that is kelly square pizza (sic) and all spoke streets with thier delis and bakeries and laundromats. c’est bien!

this morning we bid farewell to mathieu coe (now en route to guatemala) at the traditional worcester farewell spot- the miss worcester diner. mat’s such a dink- for a man “possessed by demons” he sure is wussing out on our album deal [1]. after the diner we went to the kelley square flea market. i got a selection of sharpie markers (repackaged in a rainbow of colors as “shonpie” markers) and a record by “tubby chess” [2]. tonight we bid a fair hello and welcome back to mel banana and the radical cheerleaders, returning tired and confused from india by way of paris. incidentally, there are more parisian developements in fujichialand so so keep the ears perked in the next two weeks for an especial delight.

[1] my proposed tracklisting for mathieu coe “rue des mauvais garcons”:

oh man, i’m sorry, but i really want an ipod. somebody ebay me an ipod, huh?

last night around midnight me and matt coe borrowed nicky revs’ car and drove to providence to help with the evictions (of more than 20 of our friends). drinking mate and soda and reading aloud from shuttlecock the whole ride down, we arrived in fine (though weird) spirits and quickly set to work moving boxes and tearing down interior walls in order to salvage some of the lumber. we all knew the situation was bad (as reported earlier), but didn’t know how bad until the landlord called earlier that morning and told them that demolition crews would arrive at 7am the next day. well, shit, so we scrambled a way down there eventually to help out and at 7am a standoff of sorts with media trucks in attendance telling demo guys to respectfully hold they horses until at last late morning when the landlord came and got bitched out by the mayor and several other officials for illegally obtaining a demolition permit and just plain kicking motherfuckers out in january with a day’s notice. am i getting this right? the landlord’s story evidently was that the demo guys were just there to help them out but whatever. we drove home at 9 and crashed in our waiting beds, content in our beliefs that in a pickle worcester is there.

any relevant readers are invited to write up their own synopsis for posting, or send news clippings.

i’m at the downhill battle office, nick’s on the phone with ian. you know ian. ian. ian mackaye. spent the last couple of days in boston at kelley parsons’ and dan wars’ and serge pinskys’ and crazy jimmys’ house. saw a 3-d kung fu movie at the coolidge corner, slept in kelley’s closet apartment (literally a closet) and woke up in a panic attack, thinking that somehow i had been buried alive, or locked in a safe in a sinking ocean liner. i need a shave, and eventually, a haircut (beep beep). job interview on monday, i gotta buy spray paint and go to the post office and eat an orange, hang out with j9, draw, sew… this is all stuff i wrote in my new pocket calender because that’s how cool i am.

i don’t exactly what’s happening, but the people who run the bakery, the sickle, and valhalla (three artist-run venues in providence that i’ve played at) are being evicted, along with everyone else in their building and similar buildings nearby. right now it seems they are looking at using their amassed power to purchase a building outright, which would be phenominal. those evicted make up a good 80% of the reason i ever go to providence, and are a vibrant scene unto themselves. no commentary from me, it’s just a bummer.

on the upside, mike leslie’s stickers came in and last night we were printing covers and assembling for his “good grief” sticker set volume 1. 4 stickers and a piece of gum is 50 cents and well worth it. limited edition. of 500!

having thoroughly enjoyed “muscle beach party” some weeks ago, number one went out and purchased “beach blanket bingo”, and after my knitting circle tonight, we watched it. the movies have a lot going for them– screwball antics, bad jokes, lame romance, but best of all, the two we’ve watched feature insane casts. muscle beach party has buddy hackett, dick dale, little stevie wonder, don rickles, and peter lorre. beach blanket bingo also has don rickles (and he is now allowed to ad-lib) and adds buster keaton and a mermaid. and of course they both star that wonderfully nauseating couple frankie avalon and annette funicello.

the knitting circle was good, but not as gossipy as i would have liked. ann houston tells me that it usually gets “a lot more catty” but the presence of two older neighborhood ladies put everyone on the best behaviour. i finished off my closet-warming present for kelley manhatten and it raised every eyebrow in the room.

bent scepter was in town briefly, back from st petersburg russia for some weeks for some reason and he came to worcester today. black market data cds of mp3s are $2 in russia and contain every album of any given artist. ben got the ramones, elton john, and rhapsody. in a gloomy town with an ipod ben sits pretty. the subway is 13 cents. in febraury he takes the trans-siberian express to bejing.

fujichia: this beach is wiggy

so so so buttons on your underwear. last night for our struggling film night (struggling since me and jess have a variety of commitments and are finding it increasingly hard to connect every tuesday) we watched godzilla vs mothra. i realized that one thing i especially like in a movie is good color, and while godzilla vs mothra may drag on a bit once mothra dies, the film definitely has a fine pallette. plus beautiful songs sung by miniature women. does anyone know of a compilation of songs from godzilla movies? mothra and gamera each have songs, but do other monster island denizens?

picking up what i assumed to be an empty notebook, i found this weird list in my handwriting: “your stable / your san francisco / sell then make me look / your studio / love note / will you still know me / worcester wussy / the old salon nickle thirty / home feels so weird - five cities / will you still know me / worcester wussy”. i have *absolutely* no idea what this means. is this future me trying to communicate? it’s strangley comforting, given that i was picking up my notebook to jot down notes for a weird new project that has very much to do with my stable, my san francisco, my studio, and love notes. what “the old salon nickle thirty” is is anyone’s guess.