I'd stayed longer at the lab than I wanted, but I made some headway into making a protocol (i.e. procedure) for administering Electro-Convulsive Therapy to Rats. Yeah, rats and therapeutic shock. It sounds whack, I know, but lookee: By giving rats ECT, apparently we can study how a cetain chemical--called Brain-Derived Neurotrophic Factor (BDNF)--fluctuates. BDNF is basically brain manure for making certain brain cells. Anyway, BDNF goes way up after using ECT...and we check out what sorts of immune and metabolic thingymajigs help make BDNF go way up.

Dr. Zivago and I mostly agreed about stuff. He changed his mind a few times, but that's normal. Alongside me in the office was Hideyoshi, pouring over science articles relating BDNF to major depression in rats. He'd just decided to do it on his own. This was a good thing: I'd asked Attila, Midget, Santa Barbara Girl and Chernobel to get me similar articles, but they didn't bother. Good old Hideyoshi. I wonder just why in the hell he's so helpful, but I'm not going to knock it. He is my partner in this whole new project, after all.

The drive home was pleasantly accompanied by techno music, with an occasional switch over to KROQ for some alternative rock whatnot.

I mostly whittled away the night in conversation with friends.

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At around 10, though, I decided to head out for another photography shoot. I'd soaked up about every local spot I could think of, but I decided to try Long Beach again--not the harbor, mind you, but the Ocean-side port town.

One thing you've always gotta remember about Long Beach: the cops are out for your ass. There's always a few patrol cars idling around the span of harbor industry, that swathe of fluorescent lights and utterly lacking spaces for parking before some bridges take you to Long Beach proper. So there I was, going a respectable 10 miles over the speed limit, when some guy starts breathing up my metallic bunghole. I switched lanes as soon as we got down into the flat stretch of industry. It was like that a few times. I kept saying to myself that the bastards were asking for it.

While my avenging angels (or devil spawn) never came around, I finally slowed down into the 30 mph crawl of downtown Long Beach. I got lost about 3-4 times, the pinnacle being when I went to the Queen Mary and they had all the parking kiosks locked down--except for obvious party attendees. I didn't know how the fuck to get out. Finally, this guy in back of me--who was in the same predicament--throws it into reverse, barrels backward (while most ignoring the trendy party attendees coming down the pike) and blows through the detour we'd both missed. I basically imitated him. Sure it was alot less smooth and kinda wobbly, but it was funny as hell.

Eventually I gave up on finding free parking anywhere near the business districts. I parked out by the beach; decided to see if anything there was worth shooting. I just got there around midnight and squeezed a few of the cityscape and its skyscrapers. They've got this one building that's capped by a medieval-looking castle. For some reason the castle skyscraper and several other sections along the beach winked out. I casually walked all the back to the car--barefoot, of course--while trying not to pay attention to a few couples sexing it up on the stairs or at the beach.

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Since it was getting toward early saturday morning without nearly as many people (and parking spots taken), I decided to switch back around to this bitching parking structure I saw. It looked like the damn thing had been surgically removed from Las Vegas and implanted here. It spun around in a corkscrew, bright blue bulbs ringing around and around it, with a steady purple glow permeating from the core. I had to photograph the thing.

I parked, walked around the general area, then finally went back around it and tried my luck there. Besides this group of jackasses in a Mustang randomly pulling into a parking niche nearby and moving around questionable pieces of equipment, I got off several shots of the structure at weird angles. Then it occurred to me: there were eight stories of parking squares adjacent to the Las Vegas ramp, why not climb?

There were about 6 parking attendants on call that night. I walked by the main office window and straight up the stairs. A casual glance told me that they'd all been occupied with something on the table. I shrugged and then looked around with disgust: they'd built up the stairwell so people couldn't kiss the sky and ground. Suicide jumpers just spoil the party for everyone like that.

I eventually got out onto the 5th floor and set up shop. I couldn't fit the tripod onto the 5 inch wide wall that separated me from the drop. So instead I balanced the camera real careful like and got some nice panoramas. Looking down, though, I was surprised the attendants hadn't seen me: I was basically in plain view. The nice thing about most people, though, is that they almost never look up. I think that's why water-ballooning is so damn satisfying.

I made my way up to the rooftop and observation decks. They had this odd trellis work that acted like a sortof roof for parking pylons. It seemed like they were growing plants to act as rain buffers. They'd just completed the project, though, so it looked more weird than photogenic. I'd thought about taking some shots of this odd-looking crampt set of luxury apartments, but I really didn't need someone yelling at me, calling the cops and having my ass hauled in for doing B&E recon. Affluent white people just spoil the party for photographers like that.

I descended back down the opposite way I came. I figured there wouldn't be any parking attedants making rounds this late in the morning. I was back on the street. The car was nearby. I still wasn't totally satisfied, though. There'd been a bridge spanning the huge avenue which looked cool. I decided to walk over to and move along it. There wasn't a soul in sight; just perfect for my tastes. I saw this odd looking circular structure that really had no purpose being there. After that particular thingy, though, I didn't see much else that convinced me staying out past 2am was a good idea. Besides, I had to pace myself sleep-wise so I could get up at 6am for the damned lab meeting at 8am.

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Photographs from Long Beach coming soon.

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