P1040032
Originally uploaded by kayekilla.

It has been a short while since I last updated what I was hoping would be a great travel and adventure blog. Although my summer has been magnificent, my documentation has been far from great. Many things can distract a writer. Many good things as well as boring things. Forget those things. Let's concentrate on the most recent adventures.

In reverse and jumbled order, today, I spent the day in Colton for work. I am sealing deals all over the place. It is very exciting to know that you are on the precipice of being a millionaire. I also realized that I have a very serious affection for the Inland Empire. I mean when is the last time you have seen Riverside? Adventure number two in reverse order: stayed in Riverside at the Mission Inn. The place looks like someone transported a block of Italy and slapped it in the middle of the desert. The lobby has a presidential lounge that has quite literally large paintings of our beloved presidents on the walls. The spookiest thing is that George Bush looks exactly like George W Bush. Teddy R and Ronald Regan look the best in paintings.

But really, the Inland Empire. The desert. Something about residential communities in the dusty desert. It isn't of these times. And the giant palm trees, the kind out near the salton sea that look like the dog from sesame street was impaled on them. These are the kinds of things that just flip mid-westerners out. And as I am approaching my three-year LA-Anniversary I can testify that none of the wonder or glory of SoCal has worn off. It has refocused to places like the IE, Central Coast, and interstate 395 but it is still there.

Adventure number three was smack dab in the middle of Echo Park where the great ball crew witnessed a 14 inning game against the dumb Colorado Rockies. Longest game in my personal sportsfan history.

And my last adventure to report was a jaunt back up to The Giant Forest and Kings Canyon. This area is not a place to be underestimated. GIANT Forest, KINGS Canyon. Medieval nature. Prehistoric nature. Believe that people. There are many things to write about for example, driving out to Mineral King area to camp was worth it because nobody was there. But the real highlights are when you are around other National Park People. Especially the concerned self-righteous hippies that make it their business to report human interactions with wildlife. We saw one couple dressed in baggy purple t-shirts carrying nalgene bottles, tell a ranger that a family was agitating a bear cub. Good thing they knew better. The ranger, who must hear this crap all the time said, "yeah.. I dunno... people are stupid."

Ah. I love those NP Rangers.

I woke up thinking that there was an intruder in my room. That someone was hanging from my shitty old ceiling fan waiting for me to almost fall asleep and then at the right time he jumped down knocking off all the books on my nightstand and rolled around on my bed. I thought he came from the ceiling fan because it was moving around like a dead animal was offbalancing the motor. Awful noise I tell you.

But there was no one there. I grabbed my baseball bat and waited for the poltergeist to reappear. I came to my senses knowing that one doesn't wake up completely insane, that it is a slower process involving no-pants in public and shit-smearing on walls, I realized that shimmy-shake was an earthquake. I called K to confirm and she said she had already got several messages from her concerned friends (I am sure mine didn't come through because of the fault quake-ridden network) and that it was indeed an earthquake.

Not a good time for a quake. I need to get beauty rest for a special visitor coming in tomorrow. I started to watch the first part of "Field of Dreams" before bed and knowing that I could possibly fall into a crack in the earth at anytime makes me want to stay up and finish watching it. So I can finally understand some of the Saturday Night Live sketches of the 90s. Oh anyway, so much to do before we all fall into the big crack.

What does it mean to have a recurring dream? That your brain is out of ideas or that you have a serious neurosis?

Bergman and Antonioni died this week. Too bad, I bet Bergman would have liked to hear about my recurring dream. It's also too bad that I can't come up with anything intelligent to say about them. I loved "Blow-up" and watched it 60thousands times in undergrad and I was always creeped out and confused by "Persona" - two great works. Rent them tonight.

Anyway, we went to the Dodgers again last night and thanks to the easy-to-update jumbotron we learned that Barry Bonds went ahead and did the damn thing in San Diego. That's totally fine because we have enough excitement in Los Angeles.

I have so much stuff (photos and brochures/artifacts) to shift through from my recent travels I don't know if I can get it all done and still sleep until noon on the weekends. For example the photo above shows a small child humping some textile art in Washington DC. That's practically a 3000 word article right there. I need to stop traveling and having good times at losing Dodgers games so I can just get settled and TCB.

On Tuesday I bit my lip eating a hot dog in the all you can eat section of Dodgers Stadium. There was no reason to be eating like a middle child but there was a sense of urgency and competition, you had to be there. Maybe I was just jetlagged and my mouth was still on eastern time. All that I know for sure is that life has been really hard since then because my lip still hurts and because a lot of stressful events have conspired in the past couple days. Like for example I had to get back to work at my day job. And I had to compose a firm yet tactful letter to Delta Airlines Corporate Customer Care that dug up very painful emotions. And no one has shown up at my house to do my laundry. And my precious myspace account for the office sign project was compromised and now I can't reach the people, my fans. Even worse they may think I am giving out Macy's gift cards or promoting an Argentinian Record Label. Oh and I got another street cleaning ticket. I also happen to think I found proof that my right eyeball is falling out.

I hope that the weekend brings excitement of the happier variety.