acid mushroom pot brownie

I can't forget this.
A blazing day in the Midwest, swampy and suffocating. I left my pillow at the Motel 6 that morning, that was disturbing because I looked long at it before I walked off without it. Pink geranium pillowcase. We were eating at Quiznos when I realized I forgot it. I think it was Wyoming. I can't remember the states at all. I called Jamie and Caralee but they did not answer so no rescue. I lost my heirloom sweater days before in Arizona. Before I lost it I said it would be a curse if I ever lost it. I think this strange man stole it. When I first started talking to him I thought he was 60 but then I realized he was 18. He was very dirty. He took off his shoes and his socks were crusted and his eyes were dim but he was not crazy. I started shouting at him when he asked me too many times to sing a song. He sang me several songs while I tried to read Robert Anton Wilson's "Ishtar Rising." I carried that book around for a month but did not read it. He acted like a sociopath until I shouted at him to leave me alone, but still he clung to me whispering or trying to ruin painting art or I guess, stealing my sweater. It disappeared and he seemed like a character written into my tour to steal my sweater, so Phoenix in August is the best moment to shed the Zombie sweater. I promised Chris Rapucci that I would return that sweater, but I've worn it every day for a year and a half instead. My Louis Vuitton white knockoff is also a casualty, two cheap handles amputated. I didn't even get a bruise and I think once a screendoor surprised me and hit me in the cheek. I drank 8 cups of herbs a day and was my herbs were examined at the Canadian border when they searched our van and also questioned us about Satanic DVDs.

I almost forgot about when I had to buy a new pillow at Walmart and the sun was punishment and near the carts were baby kittens on the pavement. These Girl Scout-types were trying to unload kittens. They looked just tragic wilting on the unbearable pavement, but they were toddling and smiling. I tried to shield them from the sun and I considered getting one. A lady was standing there calling her Grandma to tell her that she was getting a kitten and the lady looked OK. I walked into Walmart and made putrid faces. A lot of parents were being mean to their kids and it was the whole Back to School vomit. I slept with my Nedelle Tshirt on the pillow for a week until I found a pillow case in Oberlin Ohio. I found it in a Thrift Store, which was actually just a junky house where a junkhound husband and wife were eating lunch. They had a lot of Bill Cosby records. The store had a clothing section jammed in the back, which was oddly outfitted with really ugly shabby 80s mom dresses and then a couple of extremely good conditioned ugly 50s dresses. I found my pillowcase there, it looks yellow and maybe kitschy Dutch.

On our way into Canada we were well rested. We spent time in Vermont. We visited Pete's aunt, who makes lace. Her middle name is Viking. Her husband works at a mental hospital and has books about its history. They used to keep sheep and had a barn. Then we played a very small very expensive college in an elegant barn with spooky vacant rooms. We have pictures. I had a private moment in one of the music buildings bathrooms. The music building was wide open, eerie and quiet. There was a beautiful entrance with wooden carvings and filtered water and cups. We slept at a sterile student co-op and I slept under the stairs because the living room was a snoring chamber. The next day we drove for a while and stopped at rest stop and stretched and I left a bag in the bathroom that said ACID, MUSHROOMS, POT BROWNIE. We crossed the border and our inspection agent was some kind of mining enthusiast, going to Colorado for gems. When I was in Colorado I walked with a bum for 15 minutes while he tried to convince me that Central Park is bigger than Denver. The customs agent loved Gabe and after they combed my every belonging and ignored everything else but a couple of Satan kitsch DVDs, they let us through and we played a great show at La Sala Rosa in Montreal. I danced all night. Pete sadly slept in the car right after the performance because he hadn't felt good since he puked an entire bottle of Gatorade into a plastic bag just as we rolled into Montreal. Somebody told me that when I dance I look like a baby raccoon. I drank Ricard all night and I liked purring "merCI!" back and forth with the bartender.

We were eating chimichangas in Dever at about 8:30 pm, with margaritas and cooks who were ready for the restaurant to close, and a coyote galloped past the outdoor dining. We ran into the band Battleship in a low moment at 10 am in Fargo. We were cranky and about to start a 20 hour drive. I was giving the silent treatment but nobody noticed. I was going on a hunger strike because the faux health food restaurant I considered eating at had Christian slogans on their menus and it smelled vile. It's prickly to feel this strongly about Christians. We walked out of this coffeshop and in a big surprise the band Battleship suddenly jumped out of their battered van, at the end of their 20 hour drive. We played at a microbrewery with beer so strong that David and I got in trouble for trying to get into the clocktower as Tupac played on the jukebox. We thought we had permission. There were two rooms for shows at opposite ends of the brewery and Yellow Swans were nauseatingly loud on one side of the building and a honky tonk band playing a three-hour set including "Happy Birthday."

I'm going to work at Emily tomorrow. I'm in Oakland. I wrote this during White Rice dance practice at Huffin House. We had Josh Ploeg dinner, there was cashews and apricots and celery. I'm going farming in a couple of days. I had another inedible burrito in San Francisco. In Minneapolis a Rwandan man with dry lips lured me into conversation and I walked into a dollar store where a group of Entriean women were shouting at the man behind the counter and then a man in a wheelchair told me he liked my walk. I have to write that or else I'll forget.