Saturday March 19 2011

It’s after 10 a.m. I was able to actually sleep for about 3 hours—but now I’m awake and can’t get back to sleep no matter how hard I try. I hear her breathing deeply and past out in dreamland. I want to be there. We both rearrange every fifteen minutes or so.

Afternoon. Her eyes flutter open like butterfly wings. We’re cozy. “Hi.” Mmmm. I touch—a little sex from behind.

Me: “I adore you….what do you think about that?”

Her: “It’s kind of surreal.”

In the kitchen—everyone else in the house is corralling here as if we all planned to get up and meet at this particular time. Dustin and Josiah are cooking eggs. Rachel slouches atop the washing machine.

Eating a bowl of Cherrios with Cinnamon Bunches, Banana, and Honey.

Margot wants to get food somewhere—she gets so excited about things. Panera? Guadalajara? Bangkok Garden? I persuade to do Panera.

Sitting at one of the smaller tables—the busy lunch hustle and bustle around us.

Eating a Strawberry Hot Cross Bun while she chows down on Broccoli & Cheddar Soup.

Me: “We really are opposites attract in real life. I think that’s what I like about this.”

Shopping at Target—she’s still wearing her sexy short magenta dress from last night. Even though she says she feels gross I think she looks dazzling. Browsing through swimsuits and dresses, then onto the food aisles.

Me: “I think I’m gonna start taking more control with this.”

Her: “No. I’m the alpha in this relationship.”

Me: “And what am I?”

Her: “You’re my bitch!”

Me: “Oh no. I don’t think so. It’s the other way around.” I’ve got to start taking the reigns. She likes it when men do that anyway.

I didn’t think I would need a basket so I’m juggling a bunch of things in my hands—being patient while she enamors herself in some new nail polish.

 Catching a few hours of Zzzz’s before I have to be at work.

My boss wants me to come in an hour later for some reason. Stupid.

Work at China Wok.

The moon rears it’s eerie face in the night sky as I’m driving (it’s supposed to be a supermoon tonight, which is rare because of it’s bigger size). I always feel inclined to share the sight of the moon with somebody, like text someone or call someone. But I don’t. Rachel beats me to it.

Her: “look at the moon”

Me: “the moon always has this way of helping me forget everything that i think matters.”

Her: “Don’t forget everything that matters.”

On the drive to Chesapeake—eating Salt n Vinegar Chips. James Graves points out that every time we ride together I eat salt n vinegar chips. “Only when I’m with you, James.”

Hanging out at Winston’s Café for the You’re Jovian, Little Foot, and Mattress show.

I brought the PA system—there’s a lack of sound system owners in the area. Elliott buys me dinner in return.

Eating Salmon in a Caper Dill Sauce with Rice Pilaf and Broccoli.

Most of the gang is here. Doug walks in strutting a new haircut.

“You look like a brand new boy!”

Enjoying all the band’s sets—Mattress draws an interesting cross between an Elvis Presley and Monster Mash sound.

Rachel is texting me—she’s walking home from the beach in the night, but her father disapproves.

Her: “I could just be a lucky naïve possible statistic teenage girl but walking alone late in the dark and cold is invigorating to me, untouchable ha like im invincible for a few moments. Puts pep in my step….most people just think its reckless and my father likes to call it my ‘tra-la-la’ complex hahah where he envisions me skipping down the street saying tra la la.”

This is more social outing than I think I’m used to. Feeling despondent but trying to stay light. Lounging in the booth and drawing another one of those symbolic pen doodles in my notebook.  
I should get more dangerous and not so serious.

Snacking on some of James’s Cheese Fries.

On the drive back home—James is talking about how drawn he is to the moon.

Me: “It makes sense that we’re drawn to it. The small amount of gravity still pulls on us.”

Him: “It’s amazing how something so small can have such a big effect.”

Eating Chocolate and drinking Coffee with Milk and Honey.

Newspaper route.

Eating Strawberry Yogurt.

While I’m compiling the papers the queen calls me on the phone—she just wanted to say hi and see how my day was. How nice. She likes me.

Coast to Coast Radio—discussing the validity of the books of the Bible and the other books that were left out by the scholars.

Eating a Boston Crème Donut from 7-11 with a little Milk.

This Snowden song still haunts me….

In volumes
I thought I found a cure for my problem
Where I bleed from my sleeve
And it pours on everyone that I meet
I made clear where I was coming from
And you touched me again
So I assumed that you could swim
No you don’t want to know me
No you don’t want to know me
Cause you don’t really know me
She said
I will never
I will never let you leave…
I am going to be your dog
Are you ready to be your god
Everything that’s expected of
Everything that’s requested of
Wait outside of your place
In the hazy estate
Honey don’t be afraid
I cut you into my legs
Don’t be afraid
Don’t be afraid
This is how true love behaves
No you don’t want to know me
No you don’t want to know me
Cause you don’t really know me
She said

Popcorn, Chocolate, Figs, Pinot Noir—Finishing Strange Days [1995].

Sleep 8 a.m.

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