its fat tuesday. i am remembering when percy and i attempted our trip to the mardi gras, what 25 years ago? we were living in morro bay, california at the time, and the idea to go came up one day, so like alot of things then, we just did it...no real thought to anything, certainly without the usual, conventional vacation plans...it was just us with our backpacks and thumbs. i doubt we even had any money! so we left heading south. we passed through santa barbara, and ate a free lunch at the hotel california. i remember walking down a hill and realizing the backpack that towered over my head could cause me to roll head-over-heels down the hill we were on. back then to pass through santa barbara was very cool. there was a section of the coast highway with throngs of hitchhikers. and yes, the lunch at the hotel california was for the street people...we were surprized but considered it a good sign! rides came from everyday folks--one being a drug salesman from southern california. he was a family guy, and by the time he put us on our way heading east down there in the valley, he had made sure we were fed, had a bit of money and clean clothes. the trip came to a halt in arizona...i believe in tucson at the TTT truckstop. we got stuck there and managed to find an empty bus in the parking lot to sleep in. we initially thought this to be perfect until we awoke and saw how dirty it really was by daylight. we left our water bottle in there. so off we went, waterbottleless. we were on some ramp....still optimistic about our adventure despite being stuck on the on-ramp with no rides in sight. we were kicked back, sucking on date pits. i can't remember where we got those, but do remember it being said if you had a date pit in your mouth, you wouldn't die of thirst! we met another stranded hitchhiker; he had offered us a puff. so we all left our bags down by the highway and walked up to a little spot on the railroad tracks overlooking the on-ramp. no big deal, right? well out of the blue, a big 4-wheel drive truck comes up stopping just short of the tracks. two guys jumped out. i don't know if they were police or what. one had a hat on that said "EAT SHIT". they demanded we get our backpacks and empty them out. it was dusty and dirty everywhere. they inspected it all, kicking this and that aside. i was aghast. i remember thinking, "hey, that's our stuff, and it's clean and what are these assholes doing kicking it around, like it's shit or something??" they took the guy with them and left us. back to the on-ramp we went, simply disgusted with the current state of affairs. we decided to turn around. we were walking on a part of the highway that went around in circles, or seemed to, trying to get ourselves in the right direction. we get stopped again. this time it was another police officer, just wanting to know who we were and where we were headed. he said, "yup," then pauses, "....girls just don't make it outta here." (ie., the desert)...he goes on, "at least we'll know who you are when your dried up dead bodies are found...'' we then focused on the fact we were WATERBOTTLELESS. yikes. so at this point, all we wanted was to get outta there. oh california, so close, but so far....never ever wanting to return to fucking tucson. we hit another on-ramp. there, policemen had bullhorns with apparently nothing else to do but announce to ANYONE who slowed down, "IT IS AGAINST THE LAW TO PICK UP HITCHHIKERS ON TUCSON HIGHWAYS..." so of course, no one picked us up. night came. now lots of hitchhikers are lined up...some angel saved all of us in a volkswagon bus. we headed out so relieved. we spent the night in the desert somewhere. getting up to pee, i sat on some thorny thing...and thats all i remember. so much for the mardi gras. now it won't be the same.

waking up on another beautiful day. me and my too strong coffee outside basking in the sunshine. ummm, what could be better? yippee, spring is coming! i think about putting in my garden...riding my bike...wearing skimpy clothes again...camping...hiking...jogging in the blazing sun... the garden will require starting from scratch. so i watch where the sun goes, trying to decide what should go where, just how much digging it could require (!), and if the landlord would be angry.

so, good news, my work schedule will stay the same! i found out last night! so i'll have lots of time, what with my 5 days off every two weeks. and, i'd really like to go on an adventure. i am due for one ASAP. i need a reminder there's another world out there. just so i don't get too complacent. but where? holland on on bikes? canary islands? peru? while seeing everyone would be wonderful..., i am open to other ideas.

i'm still anxiously awaiting the fotos from sipascancha. it reminds me so of being there; many times the only thing you COULD do was to be patient. things are so held differently, let alone on a sort of different non-schedule. there was never a guarantee of ANYTHING in peru. and you simply had to accept it, like go along for the ride, or you'd go nuts. after all it wasn't anything personal, just the way it was. if something really HAD to be done, and it took 3 trips, or there was some unknown holiday, or the buses, doctors or nurses, or whatever went on strike, or who someone you were supposed to meet just didn't show, immediately something else could lead you off in a different direction....it had a nice effect on me, though. it was pointless to get frustrated, or fret about what i would do. i immediately got used to not sweating just what got 'accomplished". instead, as things presented themselves, i did them and, often the result was unlike the original intention. so back to the cd full of fotos...i know they'll get here eventually and whatever is holding it up is beyond all my control, and that they have done what they can...

its a good reminder to let things unfold as they should, rather than get in there and direct the fucking outcome, or to even think we have that power...(i think one not-so-nice trait of we americans is that we think we REALLY have control over a situation...)

well time for work---

feliz cumplean~os pierito! te deje un mensaje amor, pero no estas en casa. era el dia 2 de febrero y porfavor disculpame, tu madrina, por las felicidades un poco tarde. ahora tienes 4 an~itos amorcito! no lo creo! pienso ahora tu estas muy muy grande, hablando mas del anterior...sabes que esperia que verte!! hoy dia me hable' con su tio, ramoncito y el te envias felicidades desde espan~a tambien. asi, amor, estare pensando en ti y tu mami y papi y todo de tu familia. hoy dia afuera es como la primavera amorcito! muchas en flores pequenitas, y que insectos estan afuera. recuerdo tu con las cucarachas...un gran abrazo pierito, te estran~ito muchisimo.

YES!!! we won a years' worth of organic chocolate! about 75 bars and a bunch of various button type chocolates! and i was also the winner of a hike up into the biscuit fire lead by "criminals", and fortunately, steve won a backpack. (it came in very handy for all the chocolate!) all of this was for a benefit saturday night for the Civil Liberties Defense Center. check them on the internet. between the bike ride there, yummy food, good beer, and the people, the cause, not to mention totally cashing out on the raffles, it was a very cool evening indeed.

its a gorgeous monday morning. i've heard we're in for some nice weather this week. i've been lax in getting little things done like laundry, paying bills, doing my classes on-line, and of course taxes loom...last year i was, let's say creative, in how i did it. i was working for myself for a few months, and then only had the volunteer stipend to claim. so suffice to say i really didn't make anything....but, unbelievably i was taxed through the asshole. so this year, it will be totally straight up. lets see, three jobs, and its all on the damn w-2. i donate a lot of money, but unfortunately its to people and places who cannot give me a receipt...i think that sucks.

today will not be the day to do the taxes though. but i will get to a million other things before work this afternoon. starting with a nice run, flower-bud scan, and weight lifting session...

speaking of an increasing music-as-art awareness, i must write about what i heard in portland with steve a few nights ago. while the previous post is about my love of trashy latino stuff, mas la cultura, what i am about to write about is TOTALLY DIFFERENT. i want to say straight up, i had NO idea of what to expect. steve had played a few things but it was very unlike what i heard.
the setting was in the old church, on clay (somewhere) in portland. north, south, east, west, don't ask me. this was a beautiful older building, with steeples, high scalloped like ceilings, stained glass, candle light, a church turned performance venue. the first performer was a friend of olive and elijahs. enrique, he also has a stage name. and yes, i've forgotten it. well he makes this eerie approach to the huge church organ. he is speaking in some tongue or in tongues. he sits down and you can see his face in the mirror in front of him. he's painted pasty white and in a long gown. and get this, he throat sings. like the tuvans. very cool. between the setting and the music, i may have briefly seen god. the next performer was a cool german guy. now i hope i get his name right. blixa bargeld. (i think). well this guy is as cool as the coolest european. very funny, in a classy way. he creates his music as he speaks or makes noises into his mike, they're recorded and bits and pieces are added along this loop. fascinating now that i understand it! its mixed and manipulated. incredible. made me feel like i was in the future, like when we'll all be one of the world. and this will be our music. and then there was jarboe. i read about her prior to my trip. very outrageous woman, between her experiences and how she holds it all now. well she drew no real attention to herself in the typical sense. she sings. i did read this interview. and she seemed much more full of herself than in her performance. she never spoke. she sings, she screams, her eyes are closed. before you think, eeegads, why would i go see someone scream, consider this, she was captivating.

you'd think with my increasing awareness of music as art, (thank you steve) i would shed this sick pleasure i have of listening to sunday night latino music. of course, it should be played LOUD, REALLY LOUD. the first part of the show is DJ'ed by two young latinas and its basically the popular stuff--like what i HAD to listen to there when i became bored with my own music. down there, as well, the DJ's were a dramatic bunch, smooth latino voices, and jesus, talk fast, you just don't know. but the custom was to play it LOUD and sing along and dance...whatever. i got used to it. all i had to listen to it was my cd player which i rigged up to two less than ideal speakers. i'm telling you bad, but oh so good.... it was part of my life. there was always music is in the background. added a certain romantica to the air. or when i went to the las vegas in cusco, the strictly peruvian club that i was only brave enough to go to with my peruvian friends. LOUD, popular, sexy stuff intermixed with totally traditional peruvian stuff. Incredible salsa. complete with dancing girls and boys in little cages above you! packed full of people, a cross section of the barrio, who i will tell you REALLY know how to party. i can still listen to it and remember how great it sounded, REALLY LOUD and how much goddamn fun it was to be part of it.