Thursday August 18 2011

DREAM: It’s one in the morning—taking Kelly Suddeth to my old church, Freedom Fellowship on the corner of Regency and Wolfsnare. She has her own car and I have mine—we park them right at the entrance to the parking lot. The side door to the church is open. I’m there because I want to load some musical equipment into a room downstairs or maybe I’m there to just practice. Before we head in, a cop rolls by…slowly.

I whisper to Kelly urgently, “Kelly…C’mon. Before he sees us…

She takes her time, half-worried about the cop. But it’s too late. The cop pulls up, gets out, and questions our presence here. I’m having a hard time explaining that I used to attend this church and that our intentions are harmless. He’s being uncompromising…and an asshole about it. My mom shows up. I attempt to get help from her end but she seems to be on the neutral side and only points out that I’m at fault. A few other church members show up too. It’s understood that I overstay my welcome…and take too many liberties…it’s as if this is a common condition I have in waking life, but not really. The cop escorts us downstairs to one of the classrooms and holds us there as punishment. We have until 7 a.m. The cop waits by the door—falls asleep. 7 o’clock comes around and I pack my things up. He wakes up, a little disoriented.

Me: “Alright! I’m ready. You have to let us go now.”

He escorts us back outside but our vehicles are gone. It’s understood they got towed because of a sign that says it’s private property. At this point, I’m at my limit. I’m in a terrible state of mind—I start crying in anger—stomping my feet—yelling at the cop, showing no respect at all for his authority because he’s the reason my life is ruined…

Me: “Fuck you! I don’t have the money for this. FUCK COPS!”

I demand that he takes us to the precinct where our cars were being kept. He’s reluctant..

Me: “It’s the LEAST you could do, man!”

I wake up as if I just got out of coma. That dream was so emotionally distressing—it felt real—my emotions were more vivid than usual.

Arising out of bed just before 1 p.m.

Cinnamon Toast Crunch.

Business—things here and there…

Lunch: Egg Sandwich with Mayonnaise and Tomato. Salt n Vinegar Chips. Pomegranate Cherry Ade.

Watching Triage [2009].

Nostrum film shoot for the show scene of Dream Girl…It’s fun playing the same 2-minute song 20 times in a row…

It’s past midnight and I’m finally back home after almost 5 hours of Nostrum stuff. It feels like I’ve been working all day. And I haven’t eaten properly all evening except for a Coke, a Zebra Cake, and an individual bag of Sun Chips. Luckily, there’s some leftover Lasagna in the fridge that Anthony’s parents made using an authentic Spanish recipe—a tad bit sweeter than usual lasagna. Settling down at the flimsy green card table with my meal—Anthony’s reading a book across the way—he’s playing a Willie Nelson cassette tape on the stereo. He can’t get over Willie Nelson’s story to fame and how he got so discouraged with music he quit and became a pig farmer for 5 years. Then one day he struck up the musical wind again and became the famous country singer we all know him as.

Him: “Five years, man! To me and you that’s just a figure…”

Me: “Yeah I know. Five years. That’s a long time…”

Him: “Imagine some kid going through all of high school and then heads off to college in that time frame.”

What’s your pig farm?

I always know exactly what Anthony means before he even tries to speak his mind. I get it. I get him. I know him. I just sit there sipping on a Mission Street Blonde Ale. Kelly Suddeth is dancing gracefully on the other side of the room to the country rhythms, clad in a brown dress that falls down to her ankles and barely a piece of floral cloth covering the top of her chest…

Me: “This is what a man really needs, Anthony—to watch a woman dance. Not women. Just one woman…”

Kelly has been a pleasant accompaniment to the house as of late. She’s couch surfing off and on here and other places. As we watch her move I take notice to the subtle sensuality in her movement. There’s a sense of freedom in her step. Anthony and I both need this…

Sleep 4:30 a.m.

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