DREAM: There’s a huge event with a list of different contests you can compete in. It’s such a big thing Indonesians are flying over to join in. I’m walking around with my friend Yunda, who I haven’t seen since my last visit to Indonesia. She’s acting as my secretary carrying a clipboard with all the times for each contest. We’re in the hall of a mall watching a more successful band play first because they have to get on the road soon. I’m supposed to play later as a solo act. Switch to a scene in a classroom—people scattered about on mats and sleeping bags asleep—most are naked but some have war paint, Indian loin cloth, and feathers attached to their bodies. I had been looking for a button or switch that does something special. I find it and turn it on. It causes humps in each person’s mat to rise up slowly—people are waking up quite disturbed. I notice a girl in the corner, naked—the hump is rising up high in the middle of her mat causing her to tumble and roll over. I apologize out loud. A guy with a potbelly and red war paint and feathers approaches me. He’s bleeding. I offer him a wet cold rag. “Sorry, it’s kind of cold.” He rubs it over his nipple—an expression of slight pain on his face. I’m trying to climb down a tall ladder now from atop a ledge—face forward taking caution in each step. I reach over to another ladder next to me that doesn’t seem to be straight and looks unstable. Earlier, I remember it being set up properly. I yell out to the people below, “Who moved this ladder?” Josiah from above notices my tactic in the way I move down the ladder (face-forward) and comments, “Wow. I never thought of doing it that way.” In response I think to myself It’s really not that great. I finally make it to the bottom and join the others. We’re driving in a van now—on tour. I have two slices of bread with two slices of cheese in my hand—it’s cold. “I’m making a grilled cheese!” Taking a lighter and warming up spots on the cheese to melt it. It creates a strange browning effect and doesn’t thoroughly melt the cheese but will have to suffice.
4:46 p.m. I wake up. It’s cold in here. Remembering cold themes within the dream.
Breakfast: Toasted English Muffin with Butter and Blackberry Jam. Orange Juice. Zinc, Vitamin E.
Work at China Wok.
Lunch: Hard Boiled Egg. Salt N Vinegar Chips. Honey Green Tea.
Waiting for orders inside the restaurant—watching my boss and her husband bickering in Chinese—expecting English subtitles to appear in midair. Sometimes I can really imagine them and get a general idea on the subject of the conversation. He playfully slaps her on the butt. After she leaves he tries to explain to me in the best English he can that she’s impatient.
Number of Non-Tippers for this shift: 1
First Non-Tipper
Race/Description: African-American male in his 20’s with a girl.
General Location: Biltmore Drive near Emerald Point Apartments
Type of Residence: Medium Sized Apartment
Quality of Residence (5-Star Rating): **
Amount of Order: Over $22.32
Friendly/Non-Friendly: Friendly
Riding with Margot to 37th and Zen to see Mas Y Mas, The Invisible Hand, and The Super Vacations. Snacking on Grapes. Commenting on the gratuitous number of no’s she keeps using, “You can’t always say no. You have to say yes eventually.”
Elliott meets us there. Sitting and talking with him about the initial mystery and charm one has when you first meet them and how that gets lost over time as the mystery unfolds—and after that you have to choose to love or leave.
Dinner: Fish Tacos with Jalapeno Beans and Rice.
She’s being touchy with me as we watch the bands. I resist. She texts me in response because the music is so loud: (actual text with mistakes caused from sensitive iphone touch screen) “The only wa to keep me fro messing is to hold the hand that’s unruly.”
I draw a picture of her in my notebook.
Her response, “I look like a monster!”
Back at home…business and scheduling.
Eating a bowl of Cherrios with Brown Sugar and Banana.
At the storage unit. Finding out Windows XP is not genuinely activated on the desktop I use to record with and the 30-day trial is over. I can’t log onto Windows. I decide to play the piano. It’s been quite some time since I’ve sat down and sunk my fingers into the ivory keys. I pause after a while and pray.
I take my emachine desktop home and troubleshoot. Now the activation is complete. Phew.
Eating Strawberries.
DOOM.
Reading.
Sleep 8 a.m.
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