space to stretch out.

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dateline: humidburg, hawaii

16 july 1996 5:53 p.m.

It's going to rain again; I can smell it... almost taste it. There's a ghost of a downpour hovering, hesitating before materializing and probably defacing the sunset countless tourists are waiting to see -- cameras raised -- this very minute. There weren't any problems at work last night, so I spent the whole time breaking up the diary pages, sort of like I used to have them. Each day gets its own page, so now there's lots more room to write stuff (like yesterday's micro-novel). I haven't got the patience to tackle June yet, though. In another overdue accomplishment, I paid off my Visa yesterday (wiping out my bank account in the process). Looks like it's frozen burritos for a while, as I've got to save up for The Big Mele in September. It's the one concert that makes surviving the year worthwhile. This year they've got lots of bands I like. No Doubt, Cypress Hill, Presidents of the U.S.A., Mighty Mighty Bosstones, Dance Hall Crashers and two others I don't know: CIV and Dishwalla. I traditionally buy at least one shirt for each band, and at the prices they charge you're looking at well over $100. Of course, fashion can be had for free. Last year my friend Nate collected a wardrobe's worth of T-shirts from the pit, and I nabbed a blue flannel shirt (hey, lots of clothes gets left behind at these things). Smothering crowds, scorching heat, a torrential mosh pit, greasy food... I can't wait! I've got more than a few tons of e-mail to answer tonight, so I better stop here.