Bishop’s Journal

I have a problem with cell phones. I believe that cell phones have a problem with me.  I ask for little from cell phones -- a phone call here or there, a text message even.  For some fucking reason, cell phones ask for my soul... worse than that... my money.  These little mother fuckers  spontaneously fry, jump into toilets, or straight up never turn on when I need them the most. Only once has the bastard run away, never to be found.
My current cell phone is no exception.
I'm sure by now you must be thinking, "Gee, Adam. Why don't you purchase another cell phone to ease your worried little self." And what a genuine point you'd be making, had you been thinking that.

At first Adam tried to use an old phone of his Dad's.  He went to switch the phone's online and, come to find out, he needs a receipt for the phone.  What the fuck?  Who would keep the receipt for a six year old cell phone that they don't use anymore?  And if that's you, I'm sorry, but seriously?

This was a week ago. Until then my phone was only acting like a bastard occasionally by running out of power quickly or sending people texts without my permission.  Three days ago, my current little herpe of a cell phone had decided that it didn't want to charge any more. Now it acts like a land line, only working when its plugged in.  Even when it's plugged, it turns on and off at its leisure.

So, until Adam is able to work out a deal with his cell phone providers, who deny his eligibility for a new phone, Adam will be difficult to get a hold of.  He'd be sorry but it's not his fault and it's just as inconvenient for him as it is for the rest of the crowd.

Chris... uh.... IPod... I haven't seen it, but you know you're welcome to break into my house whenever. If you don't work tomorrow or have plans, I think I'm gonna barbecue and drink beer at my house. Come. It'll probably be me and Garret with a bunch of bottle rockets.

When I was a freshman in college, I made a friend in my foreign film class.  My friend's name was Ray.  We knowingly went to the same high school, shared mutual friends, but never developed a relationship beyond first name acknowledgments when we passed in the halls back then.  I had the pleasure of working with Ray and a few other students in the film class on a film project leading to a defined friendship between Ray and I.  His desire to create and express himself through music, poetry, film, language, a passion for life, as in all people I call friends, attracted me to him immediately.  The conversations we shared about music, the writing of and listening to, were sources of my inspiration to learn music better, to be able to write and perform.  His encouragement to sing, ultimately, was what got me interested in doing so.  His encouragement to let go of the ego so that others can experience it urged me to work creatively.

After that class Ray moved to Paris for a semester or two while we kept in contact via myspace and email.  The conversations ceased not, even when so much land and water sat between us.  For five years Ray and I shared a friendship built around music, literature, poetry, and coffee.  One of the most rewarding relationships I've had.  He taught me so much about performing, sensitivity, writing, humility, and reaching for what I want most that I have a hard time thinking of anyone else that's been as influential as he has to me in that way.

This morning a friend texted me asking if Ray passed away today.

He did.

I don't know how, why, where.  I'm truly, truly broken.  I'm at a complete loss.

This bit is the last time I had the pleasure of seeing Ray.  He and his band, Fred Jones, performed for He Speaks: A Stand Against Violence Towards Women.  When I had asked him if they'd be interested (without the mention of pay), Ray said that he and the band would be more than willing to help the Women's Center in any way.  This bit is from that performance.  His voice is so beautiful and his music is so uplifting. 

PS, I filmed it which explains the shaky camera.

He's such a good, loving, generous, thoughtful person, it's fucking cruel to lose him so early.  The whole world is a little darker without his light, my world a little heavier without his support.

EDIT: From what I've gathered, it was an allergic reaction he got while out celebrating his birthday last night. Fucking cruel.

What are you supposed to do when you lose a friend?

03 Jesus Loves Me

Jesus loves me
But not my wife
Not my nigger friends
Or their nigger lives
But jesus loves me
That's for sure
'Cause the bible tells me so
Read your bible good and well
Don't forget about that apple spell
Don't fall in the wishing well
Wishing for heaven and gettin' hell
Wash behind your ears don't smell
Cover them freckles don't ask don't tell
Kiss your papa but not too long
Hold his hands
Don't do no wrong
Jesus loves me
But not my wife
Not my nigger friends
Or their nigger lives
But jesus loves me
That's for sure
'Cause the bible tells me so
Hush don't cry
Dry them tears
Time'll wash away all them years
Scar or a bruise
Pick and choose
When you're all grown up
You'll have the blues
Life'll give you that wedding ring
Fancy cars and diamond things
You best believe in jesus' way
And never fall asleep forgetting to pray
Jesus loves me
But not my wife
Not my nigger friends
Or their nigger lives
But jesus loves me
That's for sure
'Cause the bible tells me so
________________________

This is the image of Christ that is a result of the raping of his teachings by The Church.

As a character in a hand selected compilation of writers, often called the bible, Jesus Christ was the embodiment of total love and forgiveness.  Not necessarily pacifism, he went ballistic when people were disrespecting his pops, but taught the value of having a peace and understanding of the world around you, its people included.

This same image had been created in other cultures before Jesus' time.  Speaking strictly in literary terms, the image of Christ, I believe, is an image of worth.

Jesus_Ha

I've been toying with the idea of getting one of these:

Honda Spirit750

So tonight my friend Shannon and I planned to hang out.  We never plan what we are going to do, we just plan to do something and then figure it out minutes before or as we go along. It works well.

Shannon lives in Hillcrest/North Park area downtown and I am notoriously horrible at getting around down there.  I can get to the airport, the harbor, and Fumaris the hookah bar... that's it. 

Tonight was no exception to my lack of compass down there.  We planned to get together around 9:30 and hit up the bars to see what we'd find.  I make one stupid, wrong turn and wind up MILES away from where I wanted to be.  I thought I was on University going the right direction and after a while I realized that I would have hit ocean by now, if I were going the right way.

So I called Shannon, filled her in, gave up on trying to find my way back, got on the 15 and came home.

Goddamit.

I got my passport! Wooo!

It feels really good knowing that I have the freedom to move around the world with a lesser chance of harassment.

So I conducted an experiment with Kaya today.

I placed two bowls of food out for her to eat. I filled one with Iams and the other (her usual bowl) with Kahoots name-brand, the sample the store employee gave me when I visited Chris at his new job. When I got home, Kahoots was gone and Iams untouched.  In the second stage of my experiment I switched the bowls in case Kaya just preferred to eat out of her usual bowl.  She ran directly to Kahoots and ate it up.

Kahoots wins. It better be cheaper than Iams.

My Munchie

I am so, so, so, very proud of myself.  This was the most difficult, by far, semester I've had and I think I pulled the shit off.  I was shooting for an A in The Writing Process, but Keen's only given me an A once in past classes, so a B+ is cool.

Pat on the back for Adam.

Cheers

I created a new myspace.

It's not a typical myspace.

It's a special myspace.

It's a myspace with a pen-name... Smokey Redbeard.

I created it so I could put my writing up in blogs so my friends can read it and give me feedback.  I made sure to set the profile to private to steer unwanted eyes in another direction.  I hope that it works.  Most of my writer friends are on myspace, so I'm hoping they pick up on my attempt to get a workshop going.

I think that's something my writing self lacks... a circle of writers to exchange work and ideas with.  I've heard professors praise and denounce the workshopping process, but I've found, with the right writers, workshopping can be really beneficial.  Even having someone that doesnt consider themselves a writer go through my work has been really constructive.  After all, most of my writing isn't meant to be too elevated or out of league for non-writers.

***

Ive been keeping in contact with Kirstin.  She's been like the perfect close to my day.  We figured out how to get webcams up and running, so we've been posing and smiling at these cameras the past few nights talking till one of us gets tired.  I must say the webcam thing is new territory, but rewarding... like those match.com girls are finally responding instead of redirecting me to the website. 

***

House sitting these past couple of weeks has been... okay.  Lonely.  But okay.  I've never had a problem with being alone, but I've gone a few days without human interaction... other than online (but that doesn't count).

Ten things I do when I'm alone for extended amounts of time:
1. Talk to animals
2. Play guitar... a lot
3. Smoke weed
4. Cook food
5. Watch movies and music DVDs
6. Smoke weed
7. Write/Edit
8. Sleep
9. Organize iTunes
10. Drive to the beach

***

I broke the Hitch's Downstem and bowl piece last night.  I'm a little bummed about the bowl-piece because it was such a perfect match for Hitch, same color scheme and patterns... oh well. At least Hitch is okay.  He'll be expensive to fix, but I don't use bongs often enough to be really bummed about it I suppose.  If Hitch had broken, I'd have cried.