Monday August 22 2011

Waking up around 11:10 a.m.

Breakfast: White Donut Peach. White Nectarine. Orange Juice.

All day shift at China Wok.

Blueberry Yogurt.

Reading Dostoyevsky…napping…

…but I never noticed in them those bursts of cruel sensuality which overtake almost everybody on our earth…

Oh, how I longed for Truth—no, not called upon it, but wept. Rapture, infinite and boundless rapture intoxicated me.

Lunch: Egg Sandwich with Mayonnaise and Tomato. Salt n Vinegar Chips. Honey Green Tea.

At the house…A few days ago Darren cut his finger really bad at work, like so much a nice chunk of it is gone. In the kitchen he mumbles something about drinking some alcohol to help cope with it…

Me: “Are you one of those stupid people that thinks alcohol is the remedy for everything?”

Darren: “Are you one of those stupid people that thinks the internet is the remedy for everything?”

It’s a slow afternoon at China Wok—no orders—soI decide to relax on the couch for a bit. Anthony peeks his head at the bottom of the stairs. He just woke up from a dream where he was driving in a car with his father. He plays “Second Chances” by Peter Bjorn & John on the stereo in hopes to open his dad’s mind to modern music, attempting to get him to listen to music with fresh ears instead of being overly critical, much like in the way Anthony can listen to the music his father prefers with fresh ears. The sunrise in the distance was vibrant with color, vivid, beautiful. This sticks out to him the most. Another dream involved him being a drug dealer and selling basketball shoes. In another, he was receiving angry texts from Margot exclaiming that Anthony ruined her life.

Lately, Anthony’s been playing Tokyo songs in the house. He texts me lyrics to the song Bridge to which I’m assuming he’s playing at the current moment: “We’ll fly back to bay bridge island.”

Me: “its Bain Bridge. its in seattle.”

Him: “That’s where the drummer and faye, in that thing you do, end up living.”

Me: “and he starts his Spartacus project.”

Him: “I love you man. i really do.”

Me (as a joke, in reference to the accusing customer text from the other day): “Ur a dam liar! im not stupid. Ur probably a homo.”

Him: “Was it my shorts?”

Me: “the chucks”

Pulling into the Hilltop plaza, I spot Leisa waiting by the bus stop in front of Borders. I park and run over to chat a bit.

Her: “It’s such a gorgeous day!”

Me: “I know…”

Chocolate-filled Cookies.

While filling up the fortune cookie box I discover an unsealed one. I crack it open. It’s fortune says, “You can only treasure what you cannot posses.”

Ice Cream Cone, I love you.

Good lord! China Wok is slow tonight. Only 18 orders all day as opposed to the usual 30…Surprisingly not as disappointed as I’d usually be. I feel relaxed and unfazed…

Back home…settling down at the dinner (card) table with Baked Cod Fillets, Steamed Artichoke, and Thai Noodles—Darren joins me on the other side with his own version of Ramen—sharing bottle PBR’s. We sit there sarcastically bickering and prying into each other—criticizing the other’s personality and stupidities and temperament. All the while Amanda and a friend of hers amuse themselves by observing from afar.

“Darren, you’re the most cynical person I know.”

Any conversation had between Darren and I is blatantly entertaining to anyone listening. We’re the perfect yin and yang, the black and white, the logic and the heart. We still have yet to put into action our idea to conduct a bi-weekly talk show featuring us, just talking, about anything. Eventually…

But for now Amanda and I are planning a DIY venue together where we hope to host SHOW N TELL and other shows…

After dinner and entertainment, I grab Carmen and Jonathan from upstairs and all of us venture to the Friend’s School rope swing. Talking about the decline of wooden playgrounds and the rise of plastic, and the decline of inventive play places like Discovery Zone and the old rock playground that used to exist off Shore Drive and Kid’s Cove at Mt Trashmore being reconstructed. It’s sad times for kids these days.

Analyzing the struggles of being single and deprived (of a woman’s touch) and how to cope without relapsing. I’m having a lot of restraint here. Trust me. I know you’re only one phone call away. And my desires are almost overwhelming. The withdrawal is hard to bear. But this is important.

Cinnamon Toast Crunch.

Sleep sometime after 4 a.m.

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