Thursday October 14 2010

Waking up around 12:30 p.m. thinking it’s much later than it really is. It’s raining and thundering outside. Back to sleep.

DREAM: I’m out on the curb in front of some building. My mom and my stepdad, Jimmy, pull up in a van to pick me up. I get in. I look at the stereo for the time: 1:47 a.m. Trying to figure out where they’re taking me at this hour. Maybe church? Maybe dinner? Eventually we park somewhere. I get out. Katy Perry is nearby. Her manager warns me she will be walking past with cameras as if I should prepare myself. There she is—her face powdered with make-up—lips bright red with lipstick. She approaches me suddenly—her face next to mine as if she’s being romantic with me and we’re sharing a secret—she wants a kiss, on the lips. The paparazzi are surrounding us. Thinking I’m going to be all over the news and people will start investigating who I am. Being playful I go to kiss her on the cheek, but she beats me to it and smacks the sweetest kiss on mine. Feeling a little bashful. She walks on with her crew.

Around 5:30 p.m. I get out of bed.

Breakfast: Toasted English Muffin with Butter and Blackberry Jam. Orange Juice. Zinc, Vitamin E.

The roommates are at it again—verbal abuse—character attack—yelling. She screams over and over again, “Kyuuulllll! Kyuuuullll!”

Chris and I pick up his drums from the unit.

Big Lots, Thrift Store, Trader Joes.

Lunch: Grilled Cheese with Tomato. Kettle Cooked Potato Chips. Honey Oolong Tea. Banana.

Emily walks into our room while I’m eating lunch—telling me about her first real quarrel with her boyfriend involving a slice of pizza.

Recording at the storage unit for a few hours.

Stretching and doing crunches in the living room. Margot and Emily on the couch. Margot gives me her insight on why I’ve been recently having sex dreams with unfamiliar women. She reads from a dream interpretation website, “To dream about sex with someone other than your spouse or significant other, suggests dissatisfaction with the physical side of your relationship. On the other hand, it may be harmless fantasy.” She tends to hold my dream self against me as if it were my true self. “Margot, I think they’re just harmless fantasies.”

I tell her about how a guy in Portland wants to use my song, “Adore You” for a documentary and possibly pay me. This leads to some thoughts about the first girlfriend I was with and I feel the need to share with her. She responds with criticism and calls her a ho bag. I get a little defensive and ask her to be a little more sensitive about it. She persists…

Baking Pumpkin Muffins.

Watching The Haunting in Connecticut [2009] with Margot on the couch—Ambrotious curled up in between us. The wind outside is shaking some of the doors in the house causing an appropriate effect for the scary movie.

Dinner: Channa Masala with Rice.

Lounging on the couch after the movie. She’s acting her usual playful self. I sense her wanting to play in a sexual way but I’m not feeling right, maybe because it’s late and I have recording on my mind. Or maybe the way she acted earlier is still affecting me. This sparks a long and drawn out conversation—calling her insensitive and unapologetic—all she can think about is herself and how pissed off she is or unsatisfied. She gets mad because I continue on and on about it. But I feel it’s not getting through. Her pride and ego is hard to break down. But isn’t it like that for all of us?

Finally, she just leaves—on a bad note. Myyy haaandsss areee ssshakinggg frommm the ddddrama. I can barely typeee. Take a breath. Responding to a few texts back and forth.

I don’t believe you when you say, “Seriously, I’m done.”

I grab some Pumpkin Muffins and Milk, then record for a few hours at the unit.

Playing DOOM.

Sleep 8 a.m.

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