It was 5:30pm, with me editing my latest abstract piece, "Path to Nowhere". I kept trying to figure how I could head over to Long Beach (which is about 35 minutes away), have sushi for an hour, get back, get my luggage with Ma, then go for the airport and get there by 8:30. I really wanted to see J again, but the logistics weren't working out. I called her and said as much. She didn't seem to mind, I think partly because she'll be around these parts again. I'll show her Redondo Pier and errata later.

Ma suggested that we ourselves do the sushi thing right before the imminent flight. I thought that was cool of her so we went and noshed. I had about 5 shots of cold house saki, which wasn't half bad.

The actual plane ride was half a pain in the ass, half not so bad. I spent the first hour reading the translator's introduction to Sun Tzu's "Art of War". The rest of it was mostly spent asleep, except for the tail-end. A small child had lost a toy and was pawing at it, then trying to look imploringly at me. I figured I'd let Darwinism take the wheel and see how long it'd take him to annoy his mother. She was this circa 80's Molly Ringwald haircut of a flippant woman. Took the kid my full Sun Tzu hour to get the 411 to her. I guess futility is the new drug of choice.

So I woke up, red-eyed, on a red eye flight. Some people were talking about how perky they are. I responded with 'fuck you' eyes and a mumbled comment, then noticed Detroit's cityscape. It's a hell of alot more spread out than Los Angeles, with the oddest criss-crosses of blue and orange fluorescents. It looked like it had potential.

Dork was a pleasure to see as always, especially so with the weird fuckers milling around the baggage claim at 5:50am. One woman came up and asked me if I was from the same flight she was, then which carousel the baggage was coming on, then exactly when I got down there. I was expecting my underwear size was next, but my bags came quickly and we hauled into Seester's conveyance thingy.

It was snowing outside in that vague pre-spring way, with a noticeable chill. The leafless trees complimented the relatively free highway lanes. We stowed at Dork's place, said goodbyes to Seester, and then set about our alternative ways in eating, talking, then seeing me sleep circa 8:00am. After 4 hours I was cool.

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Ever since that early thursday, we've mostly been laying down the groundwork for shit to do.

We've been trying to get things organized with Jim, but we've been having trouble getting transportation set up. The car we do have has the backdoors bungie-corded with a hope, prayer and fucking tension to keep them at bay from road bumps. Jim likely thinks I'm a fool from the weird setting-up/awkward conversations late at night (when she gets off work), but hell, I'm just up for meeting and talking to her.

I also talked with Adam, my old college friend. He seemed (partly rightly) annoyed for me not getting a hold of him earlier. He's not up for getting here and spending the night some time like monday, but he suggested I go down with him to Cleveland, maybe over to my Alma Mater--Oberlin College. I've never quite said goodbye to that place. I figured I knew people there who were still doing the undergrad thing, so I had time to make my catharsis and bury all my lingering issues of the place. What I'm thinking, though, is having Adam come up here for a day and taking in some Detroit club whatnot. I still need to e-mail him. I can't help shaking the feeling that he's annoyed with my procrastinating ass, but maybe he'll be up for coming here, staying the day, then driving back to Cleveland.

We've also got some plans in the works for seeing Zog Island, this over industrialized hopeless scrap of decay and misery. I love photographing shit like that. After Dork is done with food and his baked potato, we'll head over there for some good shooting. Later on, we're trying to see if Dork's band is going to be playing. I might do some long-exposure snaps of that. Hopefully Jim will be up for that. I hate how we've kept her waiting for 2 days, and 3 would just be fucking ridiculous.

Speaking of ridiculous, the cannon software for my camera doesn't seem to be loading properly. Dork owns an iMac, so I can troubleshoot that as well as Mr. Eldritch (of Sisters of Mercy) could at an engineer's convention. I'm hoping I can at least convert the .RAW files into .TIFF files. That way I can shrink the fuckers, get 20 yahoo accounts, and just stow them for editing later.

So far as the photography goes, I've gotten some shots of Dork's pipes and around the hair shop that Weavie runs. That's Dork's sculpture of pipes, mind you. I'm excited as all hell about getting some of this Detroit urban decay, though. I'd go well into the evening with that shit, but this band whatnot will likely kick ass also.

Last but not least, I'm loving all the animals around this place. Dork has three dogs and two cats, all of which treat me like I'm family. There's Bweeeeeeeeee, this gorgeous golden auburn copper-eyed cat that likes climbing up into my lap in the wee hours. The co-dependentish hoon/dog, Hub, likes to curl up on my bed and keep it warm. She also comes by for pats about every 15 minutes. I love animals, though, so the attention is uplifting and stays there.

I'm slightly breezy on red wine and doing great, in general. This vacation shit kicks ass.

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