i am glad i am alive / hail to the thief of suffering

and so, eventually, i made my way into the home of one of my friends. actually, it wasnt easy. after failing to muster the courage to stay at friedels while she was out of town i continued to park near her house for some reason. i say "some reason" because i dont know it, and it wasnt smart. traffic in la is bad, and when tiffany got back into town and invited me to come hang out with her and austin i was on the complete opposite side of town and there was no way i would brave the crosstown traffic.

the next day, however, it was on. well the next evening i guess. i spent my couple days of solitude staying busy by walking around various spots in los angeles, seeing some free museums, and doing plenty of driving. boy, can i drive. by now i am pretty much over the whole driving thing though. on wednesday i spent my time getting lost in south pasadena while i foolishly tried to convince myself that i remembered where tiffany lived. i was on the wrong side of downtown.

literally hours later i caved and used the internet to locate me and her neighborhood so that i could path a direct line. as it turned out i wasnt far away, just not very near either. i got to her neighborhood early, the idea being that i would drive in the middle of the day when the traffic was at its lightest. and then i would mill about waiting for her to come home from school. you know, acquaint myself with the neighborhood, meet some locals, maybe drink a 40 on "shore" of the los angeles river. really i just walked up and down a street and then drove around to become lost some more.

a random art school student whose house i was in

finally the time came for me to see someone here, and i drove to tiffanys house. and it really is a strange thing, i was here just a week or so into my trip, i was terrified to see tiffany then, it had been so long. now, 8 months later, the terror is certainly reduced but i had to psyche myself up outside her house to go knock on the door.

this is an irrational thing. but the way it breaks down, i think, is my unwillingness to be a burden on anyone. my thought process is something like: she is doing homework and busy with school, i am just some random dude that lived with her 10 years ago, i am going to come into the house and just be a lump of coal that she avoids, i will feel uncomfortable and want to leave but then feel unable to express my need to leave and just internalize the uncomfortability, life would be so much easier if i just sat in the back of my truck and never saw another person, etc.

and this thought process is all of about 3 seconds. really, i know that these people i see want to see me and that is why they agree too, but it really is hard to convince myself of this fact. but i knocked on the door. and it was pretty good. we sat and talked for an hour or so, caught up on the last few months and then i took a shower. we chatted more and then it was time to call it a night. everything was really great, it is always nice to see tiffany and know that she is doing well in life. she was a catalyst for me even having a life...and maybe i was something similar for her.

anyway, that was tuesday. on wednesday i left to explore griffith park (which is right in tiffanys backyard). i was here on my first visit, but not to explore, to go on a hike. the exploratory part took me to the stars, specifically to the griffith observatory where i enjoyed some sweeping views of the park and the city all the way to the ocean. it was before this, but also during this, that i admitted los angeles really is a beautiful place. sure the city is too big and spread out,

griffith observatory

but the ocean is just there, and a bunch of little neighborhoods, and oh! the mountains at your back. the pretty weather for most of the year, etc etc. i had always been down on la but never had i really been here. i dont think i would ever want to live here but it sure is a nice place to visit.

i was in the observatory and around griffith park for quite awhile, then i planned to go sit at a cafe and write. you know, as if i were in paris or something. but that wasnt a very easy thing for me to accomplish. instead i just drove around some more and was soon surprised by a new phone call. this was from my friend friedel, i wasnt expecting to hear from her for hours, but it happened she was able to find me early. i called her back, but received no reply. to have something to do i decided to start driving across town towards her house, it would take awhile anyway.

while en route she called me back and disclosed her location: ucla. so i changed my track a bit and headed towards the college to pick her up. i went straight down wilshire boulevard, right through beverly hills and it was getting on 4:pm which is when the commuting hours start. it took me much longer than i wanted to navigate to this college. but it was very nice to see friedel. it had been five years and i had forgotten a fair amount about her. quickly, i remembered. and we fell into catch up and general chat as we drove the slow streets back towards culver city.

and finally we arrived at her house, the same house that i was unable to enter a few days previous. i admitted all of these fears to friedel and she laughed them away, aware of my ridiculousness. we entered through side gate and then met her dog and i was expecting to come into a full bustling house and explain away the fear process that courses through me, but no one else was home. so we sat and chatted more over tea and then she made some dinner and we played some board games. then people started coming home and we played a few more games, chatted about geography and the history of domestication, you know the light things that people talk about in society.

we switched from tea to cocktails as we played a tough visual card game called set. and then it was late. i slept over there that night and in the morning, the mornings in which i wake up ever so early and the people i am visiting so often sleep ever so late, i laid in bed thinking. i was ready to start my day, but it was pretty nice laying there i spent some time thinking about my life and (heavily loaded and full of meaning:) other things. past things. anyway, enough heavy and ill-placed veils.

eventually free also got up and we chatted for the morning and had some tea, then i was off again. my intention was to go sit and write somewhere, but my truck led to pasadena. this time for a purpose.

the museum calling card

pasadena, i am sure, is home to many strange and unique things. i will tell you about one of them. this anomaly is known as "the bunny museum." this museum was "founded" by candace frazee on february 14th 1994 when her then boyfriend/current husband gave her a stuffed bunny holding a heart that says "i love you." in turn candace gave steve a porcelain bunny rabbit. the bunny theme stems from their affectionate cat call of "honey bunny." after this fateful valentines day an event was set into motion that has yet to dissipate.

every single day (yes, day) since then they have exchanged a gift of some kind of bunny themed object. by 1999 they were listed in the guiness book of world records as the largest bunny collection in the world. at the time they owned just under 9,000 bunny related artifacts. now their home is a full fledged museum...and living space. they share their pasadena residence with 8 cats, 4 live rabbits (and 5 freeze dried ones), a few daily visitors and over 25,000 bunny related artifacts. if i had a word to describe this living situation, the word would certainly be "creepy."

when i got there just before my 2:pm appointment a young asian lady sped past me and walked in through the door. i was meandering on the steps, 1.) because i was early 2.) because i was freaked out, already. when this lady walked right in i spoke into the metal mesh door "should i just come in as well?" i mean, i knew it was someones home and it seems strange to just walk into it...what if they are pooping?

and after i called into this dark room a ladies voice came back at me, affirming that i was her appointment and asking me to wait just a few moments while she gets set up. "getting set up" including putting a sign out on the porch, a visitor information sheet and a donation box. then, as if i had just randomly walked up and not seen her do this little set up, she segued into her spiel.

i listened with rapt attention, awaiting entry into her home. and shortly i was whisked from the porch into the land where bunnies were never neutered. staring at me from all angles were hundreds of bunny figurines, plush dolls, ornaments, all manner of medium...and this was just the foyer. then i was shown the wall of bunnies from different cultures, the pretender wall (other animals or figures dressed as bunnies), and into another room that was floor to ceiling shelves of bunnies and the floor was so encroached that there was only a small area in which i could pirouette and move on to the dining room.

so far this is a very strange experience, candace is a very vibrant red and upbeat about bunnies to the point of sickness. in the dining room - just next to the table where they enjoy their meals - is a glass case with five of their previously living bunny friends now freeze dried for eternity on display. i shuddered. if i were to ever lose a limb, or really any significant body part, i have already decided that i would save it forever. some kind of taxidermy or pickling or just under the pillow as if the appendage fairy would come and leave me five dollars. because, you know, this thing has been a part of me for x number of years and if it cant stay attached to me at least i can keep it close.

still, freeze drying companion animals and displaying them is something that freaks me out. she could tell that i wasnt impressed or even into the idea of dead animals preserved in playful states, so she led me into the next room, by far the creepiest room of them all. this was the tv room.

and it must be intimated that this is her house, she and her husband live here full time, the tv room is where they sit and watch tv. it is a dark hole that once had windows but they have since been covered by stuffed animals in the form of bunny rabbits. all four walls were just stuffed animals staring down at you. i didnt want to spend five minutes in there, let alone sit and watch a movie. from there we moved on to the kitchen where i got to meet some of the living furry friends, and the lady who sped by me when i was coming into this strange place.

the lady was the bunny museums intern, she was organizing the library. unknowingly she had blocked the blind rabbit into a corner and while i was getting the tour candace reprimanded her for not being more aware of the bunny friends needs. we went through the kitchen where every dish, every piece of silverware, and all other things were bunnies. i hope you are starting to get the idea of this home. from the kitchen we emerged to the backyard and the "garden of broken dreams." this garden is where all of the bunnies that have been broken were sent to die. it was overpowered by large lawn decorations with hundreds of smaller ornaments rotting at their feet. there were even some stuffed animals decaying in the sun with their insides strewn about.

it was sad. then i tried to get away but was unfortunate. candace found me again and started regaling me with stories of her acquisitions, the rose parades, the international media and so on. again i tried to sneak away but she wanted to make sure i had a copy of "the hoppy news" and then finally i was able to get away. sitting in my truck, processing what i just went through, i glanced at this newsletter she left me with. it was from january 2002. she told me it wasnt the most recent, but that "it still had a lot of good information." the information it contained were gems like: yesterday candace donated two bunny ornaments to the museum. candace, of course, being the curator of the museum. basically it led me to believe that this museum was set up by someone a bit delusional and the aim was mostly self-serving.

i could be wrong, but i was happy to get out of there. and then all i wanted was a beer.

something that i finally made myself do was quit smoking. and after being at this museum i think i wanted a cigarette, at least i thought about smoking as a good idea while decompressing. after thinking about it for a moment i changed tack and decided that really i just wanted a beer. it had been awhile since i had just sat and drank a beer and enjoyed it. so i drove to the liquor store. there i called tiffany to see if she wanted to get real drunk, but that was a negative. she had to drive up to school soon.

so i bought some beer and sangria and came back to her house. i had a beer and caught up for a little bit, then i went with her to santa clarita. the plan for the evening was to go from her house to her school, then see some dude read poetry, and then drive back into los angeles and go eat some ethiopian food. and, for the most part, this is how it happened.

we left a few hours early - traffic - and got there only an hour early. we went and had some coffee where we promptly ran into two of tiffanys friends from school. tommy and jacoby. very much art school boys. as i generally feel out of place at college when these two guys came up i automatically felt out of place. we were also at starbucks, a place that i have only been a few times in my life and since we had a gift card i wanted to order something with a long name that you see other people with. in the end my anxiety got the best of me and i just ordered a black coffee. their coffee isnt the greatest.

as a means to get away from these two boys we left the coffee shop and drove to the college proper. before tiffany had a meeting she was going to give me a basic tour of the college and then turn me loose in this playground for an hour or so. we walked around and i noted a number of different things that i wanted to explore once i had my opportunity. this list including the walt disney theatre, the school of dance, a few different galleries of art and a number of hallways.

although i am terrified of college students i do love going to art school because there are so many artsy things just around that are basically given up for trash. like well made announcement posters that will be crumbled and tossed aside once their date has come to pass. or walls of art displayed for a month, taken down and never claimed. trash cans full of drawings and paintings that will never make it out of the hallway. i spent some time trying to reclaim some of these things. and i did a pretty good job.

corridors of insanity

the walt disney theatre had since closed and i had to find a back way into it. before i could accomplish this i got caught up by a little orchestra that had assembled in a hall somewhere and were attempting to play music. i sat and watched this for awhile. and then i made it into the upper workings of the theatre, near the roof and was able to see all of the set up that was taking place. i found a very nice spiral staircase that i spent moments admiring and then photographed for posterity. eventually i had to get out of here though. i went and watched the school of dance for a minute and then got myself very lost in the corridors that started to feel more like a mental institution than an art college.

i did circles for awhile before i decided to just get outside and walk around the building instead of trying to find the original entrance. this strategy worked and i was outside heading towards the creative writing building where i was supposed to meet tiffany to watch the award winning poet d.a. powell read from his new book. i got there first and there was a gaggle of college students, at least one that i had earlier met and i didnt want to thrust myself upon them so i stood back in the shadows and spent a moment recounting my life.

eventually tiffany called me and i was beckoned to the entrance. we sneaked inside (only because we were now late and didnt want to cause a disturbance) and proceeded to watch this poet read his work and talk about his style. i wrote poetry before. at least i wrote short lines of words that had breaks every few lines and called them poems. i do think that some poems are beautiful and evoke amazing thoughts and images...but mostly i just think they are random words thrown together and the artist just hopes that someone will find some meaning similar to whatever they had intended.

this reading lasted a bit more than an hour and the thing that stuck with me the most is that people dont clap or snap anymore after a person reads a poem. there were applause when he wrapped it up first and then after the q & a. then we were gone. this guy won some award recently for being a good poet, but i thought he was just okay. certainly his was better than the poetry i wrote when i was 19.

after this we sped away south on the golden state highway and went to find austin for our date in little ethiopia. we picked up austin and navigated the city streets down to fairfax and an ethipoian restaurant whose name currently escapes me. we went in here and had some fun on the horses and then ordered our various things and

said photo opportunities

it was good. i havent had ethiopian since i was in portland. and, our meal included a fish. we enjoyed this fish and the photo opportunities it presented. we closed down this restaurant with a healthy dose of sandalwood incense and ethiopian coffee. it was pretty good.

then the three of us came home and proceeded to go trough some of the art thing that i had attained from my foray into art school and austin busted out the sewing machine for us and put on a sewing workshop. he also sewed onto my jacket this patch i had been carrying around for about five years. it was a gift from a friend in amsterdam, and now i feel better that it is affixed to some article of clothing. and then we just stayed up until about 3:am doing art things and hanging out. it was really awesome.

when tiffany and i lived together in new york - back in the 1990's - we would have a regular "sewing night" where we would make our outfits more punk rock by sewing new patches onto our articles and sharing techniques and stuff. this felt like that. it just felt young and fun. and i was pretty happy for it. now, i have been sitting and writing for the better part of five hours and have employed the grease soundtrack to bring it all home. all i have left is a bunch more writing and the whole of my life. i will hold on.

the years, the fears, the sleep

after being in palm desert for a couple of days i realized that i had been there a couple of days too long. the place is an upper elite cess pool, a place in which i do not fit in and generally do not feel comfortable. the last night i was there, there was an invitation only event in which a whole block on "el paseo" was shut down for pedestrian traffic. i tried to get into this event, but my ugly shorts and vest didnt quite measure up to the evening gowns and tuxedos.

instead, i jut walked all around the place and eventually i took a phone call from emily. we talked for over an hour and that was okay. the conversation didnt clear up much about my return to the homeland, but it is always nice to talk. in the morning i talked to steve for more than an hour. those two calls equal or outdo my phone time for the entire previous 30 days of january. lets call it an anomaly.

after steve and i talked i finished up on the computer and hit the highway. my destination was los angeles, a mere 120 miles away. onto the expressway i jumped and set off to this place. the circumstances were less than ideal, both of the people that i had been set to see were going to be out of town upon my arrival. tiffany, my longtime friend from new york, was in san francisco until monday night. i stayed with tiffany last time i was here and planned to stay with her this time, but since she wasnt here i called on my friend friedel.

friedel is another one of those people i met in miami. really, i met a whole bunch of people in miami and have attempted to reconnect with a number of them on this trip. free, as we called her, was a very good person. after miami i saw her again

friedel in 2004

in boston and then new york where we were participating in actions related to the dnc and rnc respectively. it was in new york - in 2004 - that i last talked to friedel, we had become pretty good friends, as much as people could when they were trying to bring down the system. we were sitting in a park maybe throwing a frisbee, and she asked me what my real name was. see, from 2003 until at least 2006 i never shared my real name with anyone, i was simply "bht."

and since we were getting on so well she wanted to know more about me, like where i came from, what kind of person i really was (because no one could be as awesome as i was in real life), what my real name was, etc. specifically she said that she would tell me her real name if i told her mine. security culture got the best of me and like i was reading off a prepared statement i informed her that i couldnt disclose that information while we were in the middle of "an action." or a series of actions as the rnc was. after that the mood soured a bit and we went our separate ways, i realized pretty quickly that i had made a mistake. as the world turns at least one of the people that i was running around with at the time ended up actually being an fbi informant, it wasnt friedel.

we havent actually exchanged words with one another since that moment, as far as i can remember (which, you must know, my memory if more for dramatic effect than an actual account of things). then a series of events transpires while i am in denver visiting my friend adam, another person i had met in miami. we were at a bookstore and he showed me a new york times bestseller that had been written by a friend of ours, you guessed it, from miami. adam reminded me that this person had been dating free and he filled me in with whatever he knew.

with the information adam gave me i was able to find free on facebook and attempt to see her again at various points on this trip. it never worked out, but since she lives in la and i was driving into the heart of it i got back in touch with her so we could meet each other while i was in town. well, bad timing and me strike again, she is out of town until wednesday. however, she invites me to go to her house, and sleep in her bed with her dog until she returns.

i dont know if i have enough words to describe how strange of a thing this is for me, but i said yes to this offer. at the time, it made sense. so i drive highway 10 west until i get to la and navigate to her house, and all of a sudden i am struck with the absurdity of this prospect. after not seeing her for 5 years, i am to go to her house and stay with her housemates for up to three days! i parked in front of the house and began psyching myself up for this encounter. i phoned a friend that would give me some words of advice, but this friend didnt answer the phone. after sitting and watching the house (you know, for movement and to see what other kind of people were in there) i decided that i wasnt going to knock on the door.

so i drove away and was cursing/laughing at myself. what happened? i never used to be this scared of people. actually this used to be the kind of thing that i lived for. but, the factors that entered my mind while i was deciding whether or not i would actually knock on the door were as follows: i did not know how many people were in there, i did not know anything about the make up of the people behind that door, once i was inside it would be awkward for me to leave, since i barely know friedel and i do not know these people at all how would i answer questions about my life or my relationship with her, i dont really like dogs, since i was staying in her room would her dog become my responsibility, (i was tired at the time) would i need to stay up and hang out with these people for a long time, etc etc etc.

and as i drove away and parked only blocks away from her house i started thinking of a different me, a me of the past, me circa 2002. and my intention was to write about the last time i was told to just knock on a door and sleep in someone elses bed until they arrive. that was in september 2002, when i moved to portland. i did actually write out that story, but it became way too long and i decided to save it for later.

so, anyway, i just went and slept in my truck a couple blocks away from her house fully realizing the ridiculousness of this, this..whatever it is that i feel. fear, i guess. i went to bed very early - i said i was tired - and ended up waking up at 7:am. shitty! with no people that i know here and nothing lined up to do, i had the second largest city in the united states at my fingertips, this is not something that i find ideal. i much prefer smaller places. but i went out for breakfast and then to the exposition park to explore some of the museums and read my book. basically i just walked around as the day unfolded in front of me.

it was hot out again. then i decided to go downtown. i dont know why i came to this decision, generally the bigger the city the less outstanding the downtown area is. it becomes just big buildings and bento places for people on the go. the neighborhoods are more where it is at and in a place like la, a place that is already very spread out, downtown would certainly hold nothing for me. i knew all of this, but in the direction of the big buildings i drove anyway. knowledge be damned!

but, i didnt make it there. eventually i stopped when i saw a place that i knew to have free wifi. i wanted to write some of the day away, and i have accomplished that. however, the wifi is broken and i am not able to post it. boring. now, i guess i will continue towards the big buildings. ugh, blah. i am back to my sleeping spot now.