From Orlando,

1: Take I4 toward Daytona
2: Take the SR-472 W exit- EXIT 114. 0.3 miles
3: Turn LEFT onto FL-472 W. 0.8 miles
4: Turn SLIGHT RIGHT onto CR-4101/DR MARTIN L KING JR BELT. Continue to follow CR-4101. 7.2 miles
5: Turn LEFT onto US-92 W/E INTERNATIONAL SPEEDWAY BLVD. 2.6 miles
6: Turn SLIGHT RIGHT onto N WOODLAND BLVD/US-17 N. 1.0 miles
7: Turn SLIGHT RIGHT onto FL-11 N. 8.0 miles
8: End (yes, you have arrived) at

5455 State Road 11
De Leon Springs, FL
32130-3927 US

everybody say yay!

recently, in RealTime and space, I've been looking for someone (or people) to go to the Orange Blossom Music Festival with me... unfortunately, heading out to parts unknown for a three day sleep-under-the-stars without any real plan is not something my two orlando friends are into... Rasputin works too much and is not that into music and Helena likes her creature comforts and is particular about her music... anybody in Orlando up for a three day music party?... oh where, oh where, have the music lovers gone?... oh where, oh where can you be?...

see, I'm the kind of person who will drive there and make do with whatever I find, whether that's sleeping in my car or out on open ground (I might, if I prepare, bring a blanket or sleeping bag or tent even and a cooler and some food, but sometimes spur of the moment trips happen while in the car and whatever is needed is found along the way)... want some adventure?...

alas, I've become very lazy and use the excuse that I do not want to do these adventures all by myself to forget they are happening... I remember when Phil was starting SSA in 1999... I'd just gotten back to Orlando and was hoping to find a new life down here after a disastrous attempt at love and family in Toronto and Buffalo in the late nineties... my enthusiasm was depressed by the fact that all the contacts I was making were not very active and non-musical (perhaps because they were older)... my enthusiasm took a devastating blow in January of 2001 when I was taken for everything I had brought down with me to Florida by a person who called herself a friend... I detached myself from the group of people who introduced me to her, except for Rasputin and Helena, and found myself starting all over again from my car, just as I did when I left Toronto...

no wonder I'm told I trust and give too much, huh?...

anyway, I would love to get out to musical events and social places more often... I suppose I should just go by myself... even though that reminds me of how alone I am in this world and that depresses me... that's just a mind-set I need to work my way out of... I need a change of perspective... even more than I need a friend...

it's just all so much easier when someone is there to look you in the eye and understand, ya know?...

ah, but enough wandering along the ledge of lament for now... there's joy here in whoville... I just could not possibly find the words to express the utter wonderfulness of finding someone who wrote the review I would have written had I taken to writing a review of the film... I refer to Douglas Adams genius writing The Hitchhiker's Guide To The Galaxy... if you have not seen the film yet, you might not want to read this (I know I wouldn't, but then, I prefer a completely blank slate before seeing any film)... but if you've seen it and you want to know what I think, it's there...

and then, and then (yes, the excitement continues to build)...

just when I was not looking for it, she left a note about music, new music I've not heard of... Cursive... and it appears I might have my heart ripped to shreds by at least one of the songs (that's actually a good thing for creativity and me)... unfortunately, my library doesn't have any Cursive yet... so I'll have to keep my eyes open next time I am at a music store (which is not often, for I do not like testing my will power in music stores because I do not want to bring any will power to music stores... anyway, this news and information and the previous review is once again reassurance that the internet is even more wondrous than Willy Wonka's Chocolate Factory (I know, sacrilage {or is that sacralige?... no, sacrilage seems closer} for chocoholics, but then, I always was a religious rebel)...

pondering ponderously, did you ever wonder why alcoholism or autism are considered diseases, but Buddism or Catholicism are considered religions?...

so what shall we say about Zoroastrianism?... a rhetorical question, in fact, in case you did not realize... I often toss potentially controversial thoughts into my babbling in order to keep me on my toes and amuse the peanut gallery... when they were younger peanuts, the occasional brawl would break out, but now, the brawls tend to want to stay...

there's just not an audience for brawling peanuts anymore...

you could be here, of course, enjoying the sunshine and seeing for yourself what is real and what is not and what not and what is jest and what is serious and what mysterious (delirious?)...

maybe I should pay for various sites where people go to actually meet and greet and date and mate... but then, wouldn't that be a little like prostitution?... of course I have nothing against prostitution for those who are into it... kind of like horseback riding... some people love it for the love or horses... some people love it for the love of secret public masturbation...

you know, the difference between an offensive remark and a clever quip is usually in the arrangement of the words... or maybe you don't know... in any case, just because most psychologists debunk much of Freudian philosophy these days, that doesn't mean sexuality is any less powerful a motivating force in human life... one day, science might understand the pathways and mechanics and chemistry of the brain, of hormones and pheremones and all the other mones that we don't talk about much in public... and then, just maybe, we'll be ready to actually live life without the crutches we use today...

sometimes the sensuality in my hand leaves me in awe...

so if you're into music and anywhere near Orlando, let's meet up at the campgrounds on Max Yeager's farm... well, it's probably not Max's farm, but it is 60 acres of privately owned space that we can play upon... Phil says so... we can relax and enjoy the music... share irreverent thoughts long into the night... curl up before the sunrise humming sweet songs into each others ears... or maybe that's snoring...

come to this house, be one of the beautiful people...

. o O ( NOTES ARE THE NEW HAPPY PILL ) O o .
(just let me know you were here)