Still on the Edge in Sumas

Finally got the insurance thing figured out on the bus. I'd cancelled my Geico insurance after Allstate said they'd insure the bus--if my primary car was also covered by them. Since Geico wouldn't touch the bus, I switched. Then Allstate changed their mind, on account of one measely ticket I'd neglected to mention for 35 mph in a school zone. Honest mistake. Anyway, after that I switched the bus to GMAC. And the police car is back at Geico. They're all sharks anyway it seems to me.

Got back from Seattle on Wednesday night. Shoulda/woulda/coulda stayed, but I was tired after working all day and visiting Roy. Ran around Broadway and Volunteer Park, haven't hung out with him on Capitol Hill in at least a year. Roy got me to realize that the holes in the bus steps were there to allow you to lock the front door from the outside...duh. I still can't quite visualize how that worked since I don't have the part (lock). I'm looking into it. Then he told me about his high school single mother friend who has two daughters, one pregnant and the other addicted to heroin I think it was. Some folks have all the fun. I'm missing a sleepover party tonight complete with hot tub and facials in Ballard. How I miss the fairies.

Today I visited my friend Terry in Vancouver B.C. and did some fun book browsing. Some good finds, including old novels by Jean Genet and Edmund White. Terry is this interesting man I've been getting to know there. Transgender I think...I confess while we've talked about a lot of issues around genderfuck and masc/fem identity etc, I've never really felt good about asking whether or not he was born anatomically male. It really doesn't matter much; he's certainly living as a man now. He's working with a former Vancouver cop (MTF) on diversity training for the police. "Brave" doesn't do them justice. Anyway we did some antique shops also, tho I was hoping for used building materials (bus materials?) ...no luck there.

There's actually an abandoned school bus conversion here in town. Unbelievable, but then again around here stuff seems to just sit. Its well hidden, an older GMC...with a porch on the back! Never seen one like it on the road. It must have been fabulous about 40 years back. The inside is covered with hideous carpet from the 1950's. I must take a picture next time. Also inside was a gold '60's vinyl couch that has damage but I think I could fix it. Most everything inside and out is completely trashed, lots of bored kids live around here. Still there's interesting parts and pieces with serious art project potential--like a ruined ham radio, rusty gears, pedestal chairs, and a propane heater (scary). I keep thinking about that couch...

Yesterday I tried to pry out the frozen bus battery tray. Can't do much else right now, so thought I'd try to loosen it. Penetrating oil might do it over time, but not yet. Hitting it with a rock to loosen it didn't really work either.

Here's my latest fantasy paint job. Not very original, though I like the vapor trails/lights in the night sky thing...



Nothing else much exciting. Tomorrow I'm off to Seattle again. Mark is leaving tomorrow for an AIDS conference in Santa Barbara. Wishing him much fun and many lessons learned. A black man acting as a bridge between crazy Indians and crazy white people. He's got the goods to make a difference there, believe it. Unreal what he's capable of. Unreal the influence he has on me, try as I might to deny it. He's huge, and thankfully he's on my side.

He's the primary reason I left Seattle and moved to Sumas. He's also the reason we have a dog, Sadie May. Sort of symbolic...I'm free to choose my own path etc, but at times it seems as if I'm left with the choices he gives me. I got to name the dog, for example, after he brought her home more or less unannounced. Then again, while it felt as if Mark's desire to adopt her was separate from my own feelings, it also coincided with my own... Independence versus interdependence gets a little cloudy with me. Maybe my own paranoia, but if I am so kept, so be it. Pretty good prison in the end.

So that's why I'm on the edge in Sumas, I guess. That's why we just got the bus title in the mail--essentially he said that I'd enjoy another project. And he was right. Still, I wonder why I didn't consider turning around and selling it for $1500 profit. I'm such a rotten Capitolist. Normal people go to hockey games or take the twins to Girl Scouts or whatever. I glue eyeballs on a former police car and dream about painting a school bus. People ask me what it means. As if I have an answer.