2003-04-09 - 11:57 p.m.

So Today I got out of my car and right away I see Chris. It took less than one minute to be distracted once in Davis. Chris and I walk together over to the quad. Chris has nothing to do. He was on his way to baker’s square to kill some time. But now he has something to do. We sit on the quad for a few minutes. The only thing I have to do is do some Write Club announcements at some classes. At around noon we walk toward Wellman because they are giving out free ice cream. Why? Because they are having a cow milking contest on the West quad. Why? Why the fuck do you ask; because this is Davis. That’s what we do – squeeze them utters. That’s why guys in this town are breast men. Its all about the utters – bovine and human.

We run into Azver and stand and watch the utter squeezing. This guy keeps telling us to sit down. Chris isn’t sitting down. Chris wants to provoke a fight. Chris is an adrenaline junkie. He is looking for another job. He works for as a pizza delivery guy right now. He wants to either work at a sky diving place or as a repoman. He’s actually filled out applications for these places. The man likes adrenaline. He likes acid, shrooms, pot, and booze also. But he likes biological chemicals just as much. But the guy doesn’t do anything.

We go to the poetry class to promote Write Club. On the way there Chris throws away his ice cream. He may like drugs, but he hates chocolate. In the poetry class all the poetry students are writing on chalkboards. This throws me off my game. I’m used to being in front of an audience. It’s like stage diving through a doorway walking into this class. I give my spiel and Chris gets really hyper when he hands out the flyers. He starts getting people to repeat the location of the meeting and really driving the club home. Even myself, a manic freak, envies Chris’ passion.

Back on the quad we sit down but then decide to move around. We go inside and sit in the M.U. over in the room on the west. I never sit there but we do this time. We watch women and talk about tourists and van halen. Chris likes tourists because his family lives off them. And van Halen, well we could talk about that for hours – can’t you.

We go back outside and sit down. We see James and he sits down with us. Chris gets some flyers and starts to hand them out to people. James and I talk for a bit. About nothing. About everything. About whatever I can’t remember. Probably his ex-girlfriend and movies. James’ two passions in life. James’ two burdens in life. Chris comes back with empty hands. He handed them all out. We talk about the demographic for the Alternative Film Club. I try to hand flyers out but to no avail. I am a failure. But I go to a classroom and hand out write Club flyers. It goes well. The best speech yet. Eve, the instructor, and I talked. It was nice.

Back out on the quad. I sit and talk to Lisa and Chris and James. Annelies, his ex shows up and he talks to her. He actually gives her her phone that I had in my car for a week. It was left in there while they were still dating.

Eventually I’m left alone on the quad and I go and do some computer work. I write a letter to Pam Houston the head of the creative writing department. I tell her that Seele, the creative writing magazine on campus, needs to be overhauled. There needs to be a class instead of a club. I give her a bunch of ideas and then say that I should be poet laureate of the Campus. Why me? Who else?

Then I sit outside on the quad with Kristin and Anneliese. We talk about Seele and Jackson Pritt, a guy that works at Seele and is a Cartoonist for the Aggie, shows up. I bitch to him. Kristin talks about how good a salad is so I get up to get one. On my way there I run into Aisha and her friend Nadia. I talk about how they match in Pink and lavender with their raspberry ice cream. They tell me to give them half an hour before talking to them on the quad. I go buy something from the salad bar. On my way out I run into Kris Frick. He was in Eve’s fiction class. He talks about the stories that he is writing. I listen. This is why I should be poet laureate. I am the Lawrence ferengetti of Davis.

Kristin has left so I go and sit with Nadia and Aisha. They want more time. I read Hemmingway. At one point Aisha yells a question about David Bowie. I answer. I talk to Anna Senecal, a hippie on the quad sitting next to me, about Whole Earth festival. I mention that my friend Wavy is the M.C. I finish my Hemmingway story and walk over to Nadia and Aisha. More time. I read "Howl" outloud to myself. And then I sit by them whether they like it or not. Nadia leaves very quickly and I talk to Aisha about Pablo Neruda. Then she sees Nadia in the distance and runs to talk to her. I go over to by where there are – North hall. There is a board for people to write comments on about body image. They are reading it. When given a forum I will abuse it. So I write, "The perfectly molded torso of a man looks like a field of fresh graves. A reminder of impending death. The chest of a woman, with its two sexy bags of fat, is a orchard of life and a nest for cancer." While I write this I see Nadia and Aisha walk of. I go and sit down. Dan shows up. I ask what he has been doing and we sit down. Aisha then walks up. She takes her sandals off while she walks in the grass. Just as she did while she frolicked over to the body image sign. Bare feet on grass. A sensual experience.

(I’m going to go sleep in my car, more about this later.)

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