(diaryland) November 10, 2005 - 11:18 a.m.

I asked Roland if we could have icy-poles and he said yes, and thus the journey began.

We walked on the trail next to the train tracks behind our house. There was a plastic bottle with shrivelled flowers that had blown over in between the tracks. That was from last Thursday when an old man got hit by a train and died in hospital.

We walked on a bit more and then suddenly, some flappy thing came from out of nowhere and landed on the train tracks, accompanied by a lot of noise and a lot of debris.

It turned out that a truck had just beheaded itself on the rail bridge and there was a guy on the road underneath calmly pulling the entire lid of the truck off the bridge. Then, the truck went off on its merry little way. At least it had gotten under the bridge. A pale learner driver who had been right behind the truck when it had happened took a while longer to recover. A girl and her mum told us everything they saw. It's weird how strangers get some kind of camaraderie in those sorts of situations.

Then we got icy-poles.

I had a cool dream last night. I was in San Fransisco, and I had just launched the most kick-arse radio station ever. To get some people to listen, we found a Chinese restaurant in the shape of a temple that was built on a huge concrete platform that hung over a freeway system. We were going to have music blaring out of it so even everyone underneath could hear it, and then a group of us were going to do tai chi in really colourful uniforms in formation outside the restaurant. However, it just so happened that the way the wind was pushed about on the freeway system meant that the music got sucked back into the restaurant, so we all had to do our tai chi in silence.