March 9, 2007


Brian Moran - San Francisco, California

I woke up around 8-ish, pretty standard at this point. I had been a little sick, and sure enough in the style of the three previous mornings, my eyes were frozen shut with dried crust that formed from insane tear-overproduction. Eye infection? Conjunctivitis? I'll probably never know, but it meant that I had to blindly find my way to the sink to wipe the stuff off, which I did, and then got on with the morning.

Made some coffee. Ate a couple of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Drank the coffee while vacantly skimming through a sailing magazine. Went to work around 10:30-ish. While in the water, I thought about things and tried to clean as fast as possible.

When I got done with boat #3, a guy from the harbor rode up on his bicycle, and we talked about him doing some diving for another guy whose business isn't going so great. I said, "Well, if you have your wetsuit and stuff, you want to train now?" He was up for it and while I did boat #4, he got dressed out. We met at boat #5 and I trained him in some basic stuff. Which is funny, because I have no formal diving training at all. Maybe it was dangerous to do that, but I doubt it - it's just breathing through a hose while in a really cold dirty pool, basically. I mean, if he seemed stupid or dangerously unbalanced, there might have been a problem, but I try not to associate with conservatives. Zing!

He did fine, but it took forever, so the sun got lower and lower and I reduced my intended goals a little bit. He wanted to do the next boat too, even though he was cold and pooped. So we did that, and it took forever again, and the sun went away a little bit more. Then I had a nice hot shower and went towards home, largely by the bus up Third, but also partly on foot.

While on the way to finding and consuming a burrito, I ran into the guy who sings in the band I play in. We had our burritos at my place on Market between 6th and 7th. It's a new place (to me anyway), and you can actually have other people in the same room with you while you're there, too, unlike some past apartments. I fuckin love it, lack of "g" intended. So Drew fired up the Mp3 unit and played me some new bands, one I liked and one I didn't, and both way too loud. Then we went to practice. We drank beers and didn't play very much, but that's because we already know the songs at this point. Why work up a sweat? So, more smoking, more drinking, etc.

One of their college friends was having a birthday party at a karaoke place. We went there. People seemed pretty serious about their singing, and there was one girl who did some Celine Dion song, and her voice was actually professional-sounding and nice and all that. The song itself seemed like it lasted about 20 minutes, though, because it sucked very hard. "If you touch me like that," etc. etc. Fucking awful.

Then Drew had to split because he had two girls about to be in the same place, and that was something that we couldn't allow to happen, so we met one of the girls elsewhere, at a bar. We smoked and drank. Then we went to a house party, and I drank more, smoked more, and became a gangly dancing dipshit in the kitchen.

It had been a long week, so that felt pretty good, but all my beer had run out. I attempted to hang on a little longer, but couldn't, and I split at around 3 am, March 10th, 2007.


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