My First Poem For You

I like to touch your tattoos in complete
darkness, when I can't see them. I'm sure of
where they are, know by heart the neat
lines of lightning pulsing just above
your nipple, can find, as if by instinct, the blue
swirls of water on your shoulder where a serpent
twists, facing a dragon. When I pull you
to me, taking you until we're spent
and quiet on the sheets, I love to kiss
the pictures in your skin. They'll last until
you're seared to ashes; whatever persists
or turns to pain between us, they will still
be there. Such permanence is terrifying.
So I touch them in the dark; but touch them, trying.

-Kim Addonizio, 1994

So I saw these guys at a live show on Sunday night. And it was AWESOME! It was especially funny to watch David Foley miss cues and forget lines, and try his best not to lose it and start laughing hysterically. I think I enjoyed that even more than the rehearsed show!

What I did NOT enjoy, however, was the annoying asian chick sitting in front of me. She had the back of her hair so ratted out that it looked like she had this head of mammoth proportion, and evey time I leaned right to see past her fro, she too leaned right. When I leaned left, she leaned left. She ignored my LOUD comments about how I wish she would just sit still so I could see past her gigantic hair, and how tall people's place at a show like that is in the back. So I got my revenge. And it was oh-so-sweet. She took off her coat to reveal that she was wearing a very skimpy backless top. After my annoyance with her grew to astronomical proportions, I couldn't help but lean right over her bare back and let out a nice wet (fake) sneeze. It couldn't have been more obvious. She turned around and looked at me and contorted her face in disgust, and I couldn't help but burst into laughter right in her face.

She scrunched down in her chair and sat still after that. (well, after putting her coat back on)

But the most interesting part of the evening was the stalker my mom and I acquired on the train. A very tall black man dressed in jeans, a long black trenchcoat, and a cowboy hat got on the train and sat across from my mother and I. He got up, leaned over my mom's lap and pulled a paper bag from under the seat, like he knew exactly what was there. Turned out it was just a sandwich which he munched down, not taking his eyes off my mother and I the whole time. After getting off the train, we stood around for a minute trying to figure out which exit to take, and he too stood around (I thought he was waiting for another train). Finally we headed toward the escalator, and I noticed he had followed, still staring at us. I told my mom to hang on to her purse, and when we reached the exit, my mom stopped to search for her ticket. The man too stopped, and my mother, thinking she was blocking his way, apologized and stepped aside. But he just stood there. So finally she finds her ticket and comes throught the exit, with him on her heels. We knew for sure at this point we were being followed. We saw a security guard near the entrance to the underground shopping center at Powell St. and headed that way. My mom stopped to talk to the security guard about nothing in particular, thinking that this would discourage the man. It didn't. He stood just a couple feet behind us as we talked to him. So we started walking one direction, then decided to go back out of the center, and then decided after all to go into it. The guy changed his direction every time we did, so we made a bee-line toward the security guard who was now standing near a coffee stand and he asked if there was a problem. "Yes!" I shouted, "That man right there is following us and he's creeping me the fuck out!" The guy, realizing he was obviously busted at this point tried to duck behind the coffee stand but then stuck his head over the top of it to continue watching us, even though I pointed right at him when talking to the guard. (how stupid was this guy?) So the guard walked us to the exit of the shopping center, and my mom decided to tell him the entire story, start to finish. I saw the creep approaching again, so I just shouted at my mom to get her ass in gear and get the hell out of the station. She lagged and finally I had to grab her hand and make a break for the exit.

Now THAT was creepy. What did the guy think he was gonna do? Mug us? Wait for us to wander someplace secluded? What? I shudder to think what may have happened if we hadn't spotted that (clueless) security guard when we did.

But everything said and done, we had a great evening, stalkers, sneezes and afros and all!

My frustration has grown to a new level today. I have discovered a bad gateway on hop #12 to my favorite Counter-Strike server. And it's NOT owned by Pacific Bell. So how am I gonna get it fixed? For you CS players out there, I'm getting lag of a second or so every ten seconds without fail! You have NO IDEA how infuriating that is to be kicking mucho booty, and suddenly stop moving and "wake up" dead. Very annoying. Guess I'm gonna have to crack some skulls at Pac Bell tomorrow until they get on the horn with this other company and tell them to fix it or suffer the wrath of one Evil Carrot. *sigh*

So it's my birthday today! Big 2-4.... That means you should give me money.