12-26-98 7:20 PM Sa
Seattle airport on the runway.  The plane is taxiing into position.  It's been a strange three days.  We're off the ground.  Rain streaks the windows.  "Hypocrisy, inconsistency, and contradiction are the only truth."  Whatever.  We were coming home from the market.  My dad brought my brother and sister and I to see Hayden Lake.  He said, "There's something you guys need to be aware of--I don't want to offend you, though--but--well, when Lori comes over--she thinks your mother is your real mother, so if you could kind of go along with that..."  What bullshit!  He thinks President Clinton should be kicked out of office for lying.  We all agreed to help him in his deception, then we complained about it out of earshot.  Whatever.  We get dinner on this flight.  I already ate a bacon double cheeseburger today at a place called Hot Rod's on I-90 in Post Falls, ID.  I had a Red Hook in the SeaTac.  What else tripped me out?  The pain of parting.  There's so much I loathe about those two, but it hurt to say good-bye.  "Thank you, son," my father said.  "This was the best Christmas yet."  Ouch.  "We'll be back," I said.  Jan was crying.  We stopped at our grandparents.  We saw old photos from the 1940's when they were young.  My grandfather in Greenland among the Eskimos.  He cut a dashing figure.  Whatever.  What else?  We stopped at Coeur d'Alene Lake to see the eagles my father is so fond of.  It was bitter cold.  On the way to the airport, I asked him why he didn't just move to Siberia.  He looked hurt.  I laughed and grabbed his shoulder comradely.  "I'm just teasing," I said.  Ugh.  Mac and Bernie want to go to a club in Hollywood tonight called the Garden of Eden.

12-24-98 Th 10:48 PM
Check the importance of the dog.  It's Christmas Eve.  An important night for my dad.  I'm not sure why.  I joke that he must have been Saint Nicholas in a former life, trying to be light when I feel heavy.  Dozens and dozens and dozens upon dozens of carefully wrapped gifts with ribbons and bows lie thick round a fat tree piled high with ornaments.  What Dickensian ghosts does he ward off with this display?  And am I too cold-hearted to simply appreciate his generosity?  Bernice has been digging out piles of old photo albums triggering crazy memories.  I hadn't thought of our first dog, Dandy in years.  After my parents were divorced, I used to pray and pray for a year at least that I would wake up and it would all have been a bad dream and everything would go back.  When the dog came I prayed everything would go back to the way it was except the dog.  It occurs to me now that the dog was a bribe, a distraction, a sleight-of-hand.  Whatever.  I back off with whatevers.  I woke up thinking of Jim and Aar and Tink.  Lame names.  I need to pinpoint an exact date.  I need to lose about fifteen pounds.  Hark!  The Herald Angels Sing!  What else?  My father has hung proudly on the wall a picture of him and President Reagan framed along with a letter with Reagan's signature, or a facsimile thereof, presented to my father upon his retirement.  The moon was not on the breast of the new-fallen snow, giving dullness of midnight to objects below.  My farts reek.  My brother sleeps in the bed across from me here.  I brought no gift for anyone.  What else was I remembering?  When my father was a shaggy vice cop.  Badgers vs. wolverines.

12-23-98 3:20 pm W
On a Portland-bound MD-80 out of Los Angeles.  San Francisco looks rather modest from up here.  I feel like I'm clearing my brain.  Much of California is uninhabited.  Whatever.  Guess what?  I'm hungry.  There are some weird geysers out the window.  I'm squirreling down my second bag of nuts.  Love is such a tricky thing.  I'm going to Idaho so my family will know I love them.  I guess I've got to marry Shirelle so she'll know I love her.  But I can't do anything about the love I feel for the Village Chief's daughter.  Oh, well, right?  Where's Mt. Shasta?  What else?  Whatever.  It's supposed to be freezing in Idaho.  We'll be sitting around the house for three days listening to Christmas songs and staring at each other, sober.  Somebody brought some McDonald's on this plane that's stirring my carnivore lust.  I sort of have to take a leak, but I'm on the window and would have to disturb my sleeping sister.  There's about an hour to go until we land in Portland, and then we'll have to hustle over to the Horizon terminal and board another plane.  Delays in LA ate up about half of what was to be a one-hour layover.  I hope nothing else happens or we'll miss our connection to Spokane.  We carried on all our bags.  So at least we don't have to worry about that.  We're scheduled to arrive around six, and my dad said he would buy us all dinner on the way from the airport.  There are snow-covered mountains out the window.  Are they the Coastal Range?  The Cascades?  Is that Lake Shasta?  Whiskey Creek?  I'm not drinking today.  I played some basketball this morning, but I didn't type.  I was reading the newspaper.  I should have typed and saved the newspaper for the waiting and flying.  Duh.  Oh, well.  What else?  God bless Shrill.  God bless Mom.  Mac's spitting dip into a clear plastic cup.  Filthy.  Trip.  I'm a tripper.  A drunk tripper.  Didn't get any gifts or cards for anybody.  My ego disorder has been in full sway lately.  I have trouble breathing.  The earth below is covered in snow.  My imagination fails me.  A fool I am, of the highest order.  Maintain your cool at all times.  Maybe Grandma has a game of Scrabble.  What else?  At what temperature do you need to worry about wind shear and the wings icing up?  What else?  Hawkeye has the prejudices of a white woodsman.  No humanitarian philosopher he, but a murderous killer.  

12-22-98 4:30 PM Tu
Yikes!  I'm at the Marie Callendar's on Wilshire.  I just ate a nine-dollar sandwich.  I'm so stupid.  I was on my way back from walking to Big 5 sporting goods on Wilshire and San Vicente where I bought an air pump so I can inflate my basketball to its optimum pressure.  I think it's about a three mile walk or so, round trip.  I read of Hawkeye's, Uncas', and Chingachgook's escape while Heyward, Cora, Alice, and the psalmodist, David, were captured by Magua and the Hurons.  I had walked down to Sav-On to try to get a pump, but no dice.  Nor at Orchard Hardware Supply.  I typed fifteen minutes this morning. Florelle called to make fun of what a drunk I was at the faculty party.  I got McCabe's number from her, from whom I may be able to get Vilcabamba's.  I have the worst kind of rollercoaster nausea in my guts.  I have to finish this quick.  It's getting cold and dark out there.  I'm wearing a sweatshirt and shorts.  I read about a low of 4 degrees and a high of twelve in Spokane yesterday.  More of the same predicted for the rest of the week.  What else?  I have to spend time with Shirelle tonight.  This is going to be delicate.  I hate myself.  Why do my insides do this to me?  I need to do the right thing.  The right thing and the smart thing are not always the same thing, nor the best thing.  The bartender said to a regular here, "Christmas isn't a big holiday for me.  I like Thanksgiving."  I seconded the motion.  We talked about the pressure.  What else?  I have to figure out what Jim and Aaron and what'-his-name are talking about.  I have to pinpoint a year.  What else?  Ugh.  What else?  Shirelle will be getting off soon, looking for me.  I've got to take another poo poo.  That's been going on a lot lately.  Well, at least I got some mild exercise today.  I read the paper and did the crossword.  It's 7even thirty in Delaware.

"I have even heard of thee, that the spirit of the gods is in thee, and that light and understanding and excellent wisdom is found in thee."
                                                              -King Belshazzar, on summoning Daniel to read the writing on
                                                                the wall
                                                                Dan 5:14

12-19-98 Sa 9:05 AM
Lost an important number.  Maybe it's just as well.  She goes to the library regularly.  Stick a fork in this turkey; I'm done.  The GIP' supposed to be coming over.
12-20-98 Su 6:13 PM
I'm at Shirelle's Gardner apartment.  I wanted to walk here, but she convinced me that the weather was too foreboding; so I rode up with her in the Mustang, the dented one I was almost fool enough to borrow on a suspended license for what can be called an illicit fantasy dinner date, a little Los Feliz/Silver Lake sushi thing.     Just an idear I had.  I lost the combination.  Seems like more than a coincidence.     A little spot on the lung.  Think no evil.    Come on, guy.  Don't give up.  Move along.  Idaho.  What's the best way to get to the airport?
"Oh, please.  I would wreck this place in no time."
"Oh, no, my cirrhosis has been acting up lately."
Shirelle's cleaning the toilet.  After this I've got to do a third-person page.  I have like less than a half hour before I'll have to entertain guests.  Yeah.  I need some water.  I wish it was a sunny day.  I'd take a long walk and work on Last of the Mohicans, an important book, possibly.  Whatever.  I could do some push-ups.  I was challenging guys to arm wrestle at the Christmas party.  What a moron.  9:41 PM  What an idiot.  Miami vs Denver is on.  An ant crawled out of this book and I scribbled him to death.  12-21-98 Mon 5:46 PM  We were talking about the monsters in the Book of Daniel.  Lion's heads with eagle's wings.  I could go for a glass of water.  I hope I don't do my career any damage [pencil drawing of Disney's Goofy with an arrow drawn toward it from the word 'me'] at El Coyote.  Whatever.  What else?  I have to work on Jim.  Nest I have to do my third-person page.  Arrange that Bahamas trip.  Yikes!  Now you know what love is.  Right.  I'm a fool, a clown, a buffoon.  I'm animated by a guy with  ~~~~~

Yeah, right, okay, whatever.  Purty amorous today.  Yikes!  What else?  I'm so bummed.  Whatever.  What else?  I watched a nine-ball tournament on ESPN today.  I mailed in my payroll information.  I think I'm going to have to get new shoes to take to Idaho.  Maybe I can walk to the Beverly Center.  Go to the Gap.  Delaware.  Mark Parsnip is waiting for Thing.  He's reading the new Playboy.  He picks up a lot of manila envelopes from Thing.  I let him in to wait.  I asked what was in the envelopes.  He said, "Sensitive information."  He's got glasses and long blond hair and a massive sense of vanity.  Next on to 3p.  What about exercise.  Last of the Mohicans.  I'm a fool always have been.  Always will be.  Jim is in the kitchen.  What are they talking about?  The Gulf War?  "So what do you guys think of this whole Gulf War thing?"  Maybe.  Yeah.  That's good.

Dec 17 Th 5:20 PM
Night class.  Walked here.  Dumped some coins into some bum's hands.  Almost got run over by a savagely drunk alien on a bike.  After tonight, I don't have to come here for about twenty-three days.  Yippee kay-ay, motherfucker.  Hawkeye and his followers were holding off Mingoes at the cataracts while I walked here.  I have to return "The Drowning Pool" to Blockbuster tonight.  I ought to give some kind of goodies to my kids tomorrow.  Victor and Yadira brought wrapped gifts to me today.  Javier gave me a card.  I haven't opened the gifts yet.  I might see if Sheryl would like a drink after class tonight.  Where, though?  Anna said she had to go to the DMV today.  It's very hard to look into her face.  I get the flutters.  Florelle was telling everyone in the lounge that her boyfriend wanted to know who her best friends at work were, and she mentioned Kendoll, Yovonne, and me, but he kept pressing, and somehow my name got singled out as if he suspected...she couldn't finish.  "Some kind of office romance?"  I said.  "Yes," she said.  They'll be at the party tomorrow night.  Ms. Dagget said at the bagel thing, "Aren't you engaged or something?"  I said, "I don't know."  She said that's what her boyfriend said whenever anybody asked him.  Then at lunch a similar conversation came up between Florelle and Del Rio.  Florelle asked if Shirelle would be at the party, and I said I didn't know since she had started a new job, and I hadn't mentioned it to her yet.  I said things had been a little rough between us because I didn't get the check from Jeopardy this month like I thought, and I can't get her ring this month like I thought and how disappointed she is, and how it's starting to seem to me that she's more interested in her image of domestic tranquility than she is in the reality of me.  Whatever.  And I said, sometimes I think we'd be happier with other people, but that I tried that last year and I was miserable, so all I know is I don't know shit.  Meanwhile, Rawler invited me to a party in Silver Lake which is near Los Feliz which is where Anna lives, and Shirelle's busy with Vivica's wedding that night.  Meanwhile, la senorita Anna esta empezando a parecer a mi asi tiene una cantidad peligrosa de aire entre sus oidos.  Whatever.  I can't wait to be drunk tomorrow.  Leslie wants to hear the rest of the Baja story.