"I Am The Sun. I Am The New Year."

Elizabeth, Joseph and I made a bed on the roof.  The sun was rising, and we wanted to see it happen as we drifted off.  I was sitting on a towel, staring at the antenna of a skyscraper on the horizon, when I realized it was growing.  And zig-zagging.  Then I realized it was the trail of an airplane.  Elizabeth thought it was a rocket, because it was going straight up.  Then we realized it only looked like it was going straight up.  It was actually heading right toward us.  We hadn't accounted for the curvature of the earth.  I kept watching the plane as my friends fell asleep, for ten minutes or so, as it went over my head and eventually straight down, as though it was going to crash.  It, of course, didn't.

Three hours later, the sun was blaring so brightly that we took off our clothes and got a tan.

A few hours after that, I saw the Breeders in McCarren Park.  A girl tried to crowd surf, but only stayed aloft for a few seconds.  Simultaneous Dan/Max reactions:

Dan: You're 10 years late!
Max: Have you learned nothing from Woodstock 99?!

Yesterday was the first Monday of my new, virtually day-jobless life.  I accomplished so much.  I want to accomplish more. 

Tomorrow I'm performing with Ani Difranco.  What?

Who's life is this?!

A few weeks ago, Andrew Hoepfner and I were walking past Tompkins Square Park, where there was some kind of bike convention.  Kids on bicycles, just swarming around like bees.  We didn't really acknowledge it at first, but then Andrew said, "If we were on tour, we'd stop to talk to these people, and take pictures, and email all our friends about it.  We'd be like, 'Wow, this is amazing.'"  And so I've been trying to experience New York as though I don't live here.  As though I'm on tour.  Sleeping on rooftops.  Etc.  Joy.

Love
Dan