Monday September 20 2010



DREAM: I have a bowl of strawberries. I find 4 slices of butter pound cake in plastic wrap. I want to share them with my music teacher. She calls me by the name of Valor or something that starts with a “V”. Switch to a scene in a gymnasium. I’m sitting inside a half open tent during a classroom session. The teacher is introducing a new student up at the front—a tall white girl, conventionally beautiful. Trying to locate a good spot for her to sit, she asks the class, “Raise your hand if you’re not attracted to this girl.” Or maybe she said, “Raise your hand if you do not like this girl.” Either way, I immediately push my hand in the air and the girl comes to sit with my group in the tent. ☼☼☼☼☼ MUSICPLAYER show with two stages. While we prepare on stage, my mom is performing a set on electric guitar. I hear her voice begin to sing in a nervous manner but as she goes on she starts to sound more confident. I think to myself how proud I am to have such a talented mother.


Just after 3 p.m. I wake up.


Receiving my daily hug from Ambrotious where he stands on his hind legs atop the stool in the kitchen and stretches his front paws across my chest. He loves me.


Breakfast: Toasted Bagel Plain with Butter and Blackberry Jam. Orange Juice. Zinc, Alfalfa Grain.


I can’t even finish my afternoon routine and she already calls me wanting to have the same conversation we had last night. Something I said in my blog reiterated some fears in her—probably in both of us. It’s heavy, then mushy, then scary, then light, then nice, then playful. A good way to start the day—her version of a cat hug. She loves me.


I go to the store. Walking out of Target I notice a skinny white boy with a beard entering. It’s strange because just last week that same kid was entering as I was leaving at the same time.


Lunch: Grilled Cheese with Tomato. Salt N Vinegar Chips. Honey Green Tea.

Watching In the Bedroom [2001]. Sissy Spacek is my favorite movie mom.


Testing out this new desktop PC I bought for $20 at the thrift store. I have to re-install windows and whoever owned it last did not clean it at all so I go to Big Lots again to grab DVDR’s and a compressed duster can.


I head over to Becca’s salon for a haircut. I inform her of the recent dilemmas over the weekend—they seem to be causing more damage than expected but it will be okay.

Then, we head to Waffle House. Eating a bowl of Chili with an Egg and a cup of Coffee with Cream and Sugar. A seahorse design formed in my cup from the cream.


Back at her house—baking a Peach Streusel Pie from scratch. Re-enacting some of the photos we took of each other the last time we baked a pie, exact pose and all. She’s washing the dishes and at some point she stops and asks me, “Do you hear that?” She peers out through the hallways but nothing seems to be there. Then all of a sudden she belches out a scream so high pitched I’m sure it wakes the whole house up. That scream even convinces me I should be afraid of whatever it is, which just so happens to be her dad creeping up the stairway to get a drink of water. The act of being startled is so strange to me—that in your mind, only for a second, whatever it is that’s doing the startling is a foreign enemy, something unknown, something that should not be there. But then after that second is over and all your senses start working again, you feel safe. Enjoying the delectable flavors of the pie and a cold glass of milk.


Back at home. Business. Scheduling.


Practicing music at the storage unit.


Sleep 7:30 a.m.

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