7-22-00 Sa 11:06 AM

The moms will be here any minute. I’m sitting in the backyard on the grass. The fig tree is loaded with figs, but birds have eaten all the peaches. Miss Lucky Louisiana Chief is gnawing on a peach pit between my feet. I brought out a little tea and bourbon to counteract the heat of the glaring sun. I woke up early and read about twenty-five pages or so of Sexus. Nothing to it, really, but stark sexual honesty, if that’s what it is. He uses his own name. Why is Miller’s work considered fiction? Is it considered fiction? I typed for fifteen minutes, too, complaining on par with Miller about my wife, who has decided to cut her work hours because she is tired. Tonight, though, she has to work four to one. I pretend to be disappointed but secretly plot to get out and carouse about town. Modchill called about a luau in Sunland. I think I’d rather cab it around the city. I had odd dreams this morning. A man who was a friend in the dream but who is unknown to me now, set up a meeting between me and a girl who was attracted to me but who I did not know. I was to swing by her apartment and pick her up. Something was holding me back. I had to return home for my inhaler. There were two girls at the apartment. One was like Karen at the Bounty. The other was darker. Both were sexy. I wondered which one liked me. Then the dream jumped forward. I don’t know how we got there, but we were picking our way down a mountainside through a ruined, white-walled village after some cataclysm had left a futuristic Los Angeles smoldering below. In the mountains, though, we were soon surrounded by seven waterfalls, and the girl with whom I was holding hands agreed that it was beautiful. It seemed like the end of a movie, in the climax’s aftermath, the beginning of some new life for the characters. I supposed it was some fantastic counterpoint to the mundane disheartenment of my confining reality. The moms have arrived. What else? Finish quickly. The dog is rolling around in the grass. I have to shower still and get a newspaper. Where will I bike to today? Over and out.