Did I say mess? Yes. Happy fucking weekend. It feels like about time. I just got an in-house massage a couple hours ago and am up playing guitar after a little smoke. Every so often the giant fans in my missle silo hum so loud that I'm reminded of the city... the way the city hums and moans. I'm preparing to transcribe a conversation I had with a friend that I accidentally recorded. It's interesting to me the way that words work. People talk funny. I would walk around everywhere with a micro-cassette recorder, recording ideas, conversations, musical thoughts, observations... as if life were the professor standing at the front of the room giving a lesson. I have tapes from 14 years ago, as well as 2 weeks. Sigh. The heaphones won't fit into the earpiece jack of the player. I was trying to finish transcribing so I could record some of the musical ideas I've been having since recently playing with my guitars. I suppose it will wait. So after a brief pause at the Minneapolis aiport, I got to Chicago in time to have a few beers at a bar and order some food... and proceed to stay up all night long entertaining myself with stash, cable radio and a cell phone. It was strange to be out of the bunker. Made me nervous and needy to make human connection... then it made me very sleepy. I slept all the next day and woke up in time to eat the food from the night before, take a shower and dress for the show... feeling alright. Blue Moon was rising at the bar and the pint glasses turned into plastic cups when the bands started to play. We were second. A couple of friends from the area came out and it was good to see familiar faces. I would say we sufficiently rocked. There was some kind of competition and we didn't "win", but we blew the fucking house up. That's a win in my book. We all shook hands and said "until next time" and headed towards some food and a bed... but I can't unwind after a show, so I had some beers and stayed up too late. My 7 A.M. flight had been cancelled, so I wanted to get on the soonest available to get to my destination... which was a few drinks worth at the bar and I ordered some food again... which I brought back to the bunker and ate a day or two later. I got on a flight and remember talking deeply with a lady from Syria. The next flight I talked to a lady from Upstate New York and could not stop talking. Poor lady. She was very pleasant. I should have been sleeping. I had a ride awaiting me but had extreme difficulty finding him... and ended up walking into a secured area and all these security people showed up asking for my I.D. and "where are you trying to go?" "I just want to get out of here..." and they pointed me out after an explanation. Finally I found my friend after yelling into a cell phone for many minutes. I vented a bit more and we got the fuck out of there... it was like an evil maze and I was the rat, trapped. When I got home, Tracy and I went and bought some shoes... I got some white Adidas because they reminded me of an old friend... with some white fat laces. Later her friends from Chicago showed up and we went walking around and had dinner. It was a good time... from where I was sitting. Damn. So I was tired and there seemed like so much to do and at this moment, I feel like it has all been done. A moment of rest even. It's late and I'm doing this writing excercise and I'm drained... I ran into a friend in the supermarket that I hadn't seen in years...