Hanging out with Joyce

Bus ride out to Baillos/Borders
Bike to La Cueva, in a different place and different look
Open house
Wander around the school
Go go JBriscoe's class, we catch up briefly but I'm not certain what all to talk about
There is cake, huge portions cut and put in large plastic bags
I eat as much cake as I can, but it is too much
Kevin Thornton is there, along with Tam, maybe
I think of talking to Joyce about being a Mason, but by then she is talking with others and I don't want to barge in
Gotta get back to the bus stop or be stranded
Get back, but there is confusion, if we get picked up where we got dropped, or if it's another place, behind the bldg
A guy frmo Baillo's comes out and tries to convince us that we should go back to our original drop off, which I agree with, but there is suspicion that maybe he's up to something, that we will get left, or that there will be a different bus owned by Baillo's and our other tix will be no good or something so they can get money out of us

We don't serve Masons here

Pizza and salad, water, a zebra cake and a bowl of cereal later.

There is deception. We're at a mechanic's garage, probably over around Washington and Menaul.

We're realizing that Masons are being Frozen Out. As proof, there is a newsletter, strangely written, which singles out "JW Master Benny Pankey" and "recently raised Brother Shannon Manson." I'm extremely frustrated by this. I can't just let it go.

Thread it through me, baby

Pasta with mushrooms, peas, water. Beers.

Someone is revealing the nature of the world to me, that things are not nearly as solid as they seem. Most things are actually just shells, full of gas. Several examples are given, knocking holes in things, even a person is broken open, their shoulder broken off, hollow inside. Like a world made of hollow chocolate Easter rabbits.

A black string (the poly string from the big spindle I've had forever) is threaded through me, gastrointestinally. It's extremely long, however, probably 100 yards. I'm at a grocery, I think the Smiths up at Carlisle and Constitution, and I realize that my string is out the door, in the parking lot. I follow it out there, leaving a good deal behind. I gotta put a stop to this, so I grab it and kinda rip-chord it through me. It comes out, kinda burning in my esophagus (don't know if I pulled the mouth end or the ass end, but it seems like I pulled the ass end). But I realize with some mild horror that that string had been on the dirty store floor, under foot and grimy with shopping card wheel, and I just pulled it through me, and now all of those germs and dirt are inside my body. (Do I vomit?)

(I did awaken this morning with a feeling in my esophagus like it had been burnt or traumatized.)