Today was a good and bad day. I’ll get to the bad first…

This morning at Cat and Kirk’s (I crashed last night)Kirk got a call. Cat’s dad had a heart attack two nights ago and is now in intensive care and still unconscious. It doesn’t look like he’s going to make it. First time I’ve ever seen Kirk cry. I know how he feels. What’s more I know that how horrible the task is to tell someone you love that someone they love is dead or dying. The first year I moved here I had to tell my grandfather his best friend of 40 years died on a drinking binge. Less than 20 minutes after the call Cat came home with her sister, both crying. I gave them all hugs and offered to do anything they needed. I’ll be watching their cats for the next few days while they’re in Chico up north to see their dad. They have been such great friends with all the help they’ve given me (free place to live, booze, and good company)that it’s really the least I could do. My prayers are with them and him.

The good part of my day was the sculpting apprenticeship. Goddamn I want to keep working there. Not just cuz I saw one of the models (clothed damn!) but this is the coolest work I’ve ever done. So easy yet so complicated. I’m thanking myself for taking those two years of lost wax jewelry casting classes in high school. Today we spent 5 hours making a plaster jacket for a nude sculpture. The jacket is used to complete the rubber mold for the wax casting of the piece before it is sent off to be cast in bronze elsewhere. Fascinating how much goes into the process. I’m going back again monday morning!

Well now let’s see…what’s on my plate this evening? Tequila shots and aborigine digeridoo. Must finish my paper journal today. Only two pages left. Also got to clean the apartment which isn’t too bad. Went to Kmart and finally bought myself some decent bedsheets. I’m so sick of using the sleeping bag. Damn thing gets so hot at night I sweat so I have to throw it off but then it’s too damn cold in here so it goes back on. Repeat. All fucking night long.

Ah tequila! I keep thinking of Pee Wee Herman up on the biker bar table in those big ass shoes. Thinking, too, of those band practices years ago in Nelson’s garage where we’d drink shots throughout the night. Nelson’s dad would walk in, look around, turn off the light and leave us in the dark. Psycho fucker usually drunk on the stuff too while polishing up his gun collection. Freak!

More later after dinner…