Sandman's Journal

Another day at the Evergreen Computer Center; this is how I spend one-third of my time when I'm in tour-mode. It's raining outside and has been for three days. I like it. The earth and trees smell fresh... cedar... salmon... Viet Namese food... rotting berries and pomes.

I had breakfast with my ex-girlfriend, Jen, today. We haven't hung out for eight months and we ended up having a fine time. It's good to stay friends with old girlfriends, bestfriends, ex-teammates, relatives, and such since they share your history. She's doing well. She has a new, baby sister named Catherine Rose very much to my surprise.

I've been walking around dressed in black lately. I must look partially like an anarchist since I'm wearing the stereotypic black carharts and hoody. My facial hair is rugged, too, like the lead singer from Metallica. But as I can never be one thing with out being the opposite thing at the same moment, I have also been sporting Nike running shoes which would be lambasted by most anarcho kids I know. The Nike swoosh is the sign of the beast to 85% of my pals in town. I could try to explain that these shoes are actually third-generation and an excellent model of recycling; that they were bought on a fake credit-card by a Ghanaian fellow who then gave them to my friend Alan, who I traded for a straw hat two months ago. I could try to explain that, but I don't.

I found a turtle on the bridge as I walked home from breakfast at Darby's this morning. In the nine years I've lived in Olympia I don't recall ever seeing a turtle, and yet there on the bridge's sidewalk and far from any pond lingered this directionless, hard-shelled creature. I picked her up and walked to Capitol Lake where I found a safe harbor and dropped her in. She hissed a thank-you and swam away. In Turtleopolis they call me, "Sand: saviour of lost reptiles and traveller's friend."

Last but not least, I won $2 at the tables last night! I'd broken a lot of my luck rules so I felt good about winning such a small amount. $2 divided by four hours means that I earned .50 cents/hour. That's better than most third-worlders earn all day. Oh, the horror.

In memory of 9/11...

Respect to New York City.

Peace to the world.

Love to the unloved.

Money to unmoneyed.

Lunch.