Ok, so I had a fanfuckingtabulous time in Atlanta last weekend. It was so nice just to get a change of scenery for once. I need new sights, new noise, you know?

Going back to Atlanta was strange. I have been perversely excited about it during the last couple of weeks. I hadn't been down there in a while, and, recently, I have rarely left the five-mile radious of home/work/store/bar/friend's houses. It's uncanny how I am embodying the notion of thinking globally and acting locally. I like it, but I needed some fresh air.

So of course driving down 411 through the balmy spring countryside was heavenly. I could actually tell when we crossed the GA/TN border, without the signs. There's just something in the air in GA, and in the (dilapidated) architecture. I miss those old highways with the mountains, the farmland, rivers, lakes, and train tracks (with actual moving trains hauling goods!) all running alongside. Taking these roads reminds me that there is some actual indigenous variety in the American landscape. Sadly, though, even the small towns these old roads pass through seem homogenous (compared to each other).

Anway, it was gloroiusly beautifully, and Mina and I talked for hours on the way down. That was nice. Jason was apparently high and drunk, so he absorbed himself with his newspaper.

As we drove into town that night for the Le Tigre show, I was underwhelmed. Not by the company or the show, but by the presence of the city, my city. I would've preferred a strong reaction either way, a vile repulsion or an ecstatic euphoria, to this lethargic indifference. "It looks the same," I thought. But somehow it didn't feel the same seeing as how it didn't produce any feeling. Even the skyline, once a refuge, a beacon, seemed predictable.

I ignored this and had a good time anyway. How can you not when you have a fabulous electro-punk band to dance to, plenty of pretty, sexually ambigous hipsters at your disposal, and five friends, alcohol, and a hotel room for two nights?

Saturday was fun as well. Outwrite was gay and loud as usual. Little five points was loud, expensive, and crowded as usual. I re-bought a Yo La Tengo cd that I'd lost years ago. It is beautiful, as usual. Later Jason and I went to Blake's on the Park for a very gay drink before we were to meet up with others. It was packed, as usual, with too-beautiful men posing for the not-beautiful-enough men buying them drinks. Ran into several old friends/lovers/acquainances. I was amazed at how many familiar faces I saw. I know Blake's is the "neighborhood bar," but this experience takes the concept of "family" to a whole new level. My heart stopped when Kevin walked in. Kevin was part of a very hot menage-a-trois of which I was a part last summer. And it was no one-night stand. It was a sort of relationship. Very odd but very enjoyable. Then my boyfriend found out . . . Anyway, it was thrilling to see that bashful Army boy once again. Hm.

The rest of Saturday was eating at the Majestic and dancing at MJQ, still my favorite places in town to do such things. Too bad the bartender didn't know how to make an orange creamsicle marini, though. And then she told my friend Shera, "I heard you've been saying bad things about me." Odd.

Anyway, there was one more exciting thing that happened on Friday night, in the hotel room. I'll spare you the details, but it was beautiful. I’ve written a song about it already. One of the best I’ve written in a while as far as music is concerned. Nathan says it kind of reminds him of Nick Drake. I can see that. Yeah, the lyrics kind of suck, but it’s all I can offer you in this format.

Red Roof

You are going on nineteen
I am going on Benzedrine
I could show you a knowing look
You could show me how to dream

I am sifting through the aftermath
You’ve just found the start line
I wish I could cut myself in half
And travel back in time

Still, it feels like something locked with the hotel door
But I’ve still got your underwear
You left it with the mess that we tried to hide
In the darkness, naked and bare

I would travel to Alabama
Just to march again
Up the marble stairs we carved
On our cinnamon skin

I would dress up every day
As your high school friend
I would even take Algebra
If it would help this make sense

Still, it feels like something locked with the hotel door
Behind us, with a grin
The games that I once played are over and will fade
Until you say, “Again”


THAT'S ALL FOR NOW!

Love Scott (the inspired one)