Saturday October 8 2011

DREAM: Driving furiously in a big Bronco 4x4. Darren and someone else are in the car with me. I can hear the engine rumble whenever I accelerate up the hills. We arrive at a school that just opened up for the season. There’s a meeting in the cafeteria. I have laundry to do. I find a utility room where a washer and dryer are—depositing quarters into the machine. Thinking to myself this is silly because I have my own washing machine and dryer at home… 

Waking up before 11 a.m.


A quickie Vaginasaurs rehearsal at Stephanie’s house because we have a show tonight. I told my boss I’d be a little late getting into work this morning because of a dentist appointment. Yeah, I lied. But it’s irrelevant because we’re slow at the beginning of the day.

Sarah’s late…Stephanie has a Norwegian cookbook out in the kitchen. She’s half Norwegian from her dad.

Me: “You know Margot’s Norwegian too. She has some kind of heir to royalty.”

Stef: “Her and I should have a Norwegian food party!”

Sarah finally arrives…

After practice, as I’m shutting the door to exit I remind them, “Don’t forget to bring the Rock N Roll!” I think I meant Wok N Woll.

Italian Plums. Granola Bar. Orange Juice.

All day shift at China Wok.

When I woke up this morning I was welcomed to missed calls and texts from Margot. Nothing new. But she calls me while I’m at work. I answer. She sounds confused and apologizes for bombardment of calls/texts. She went to some house last night with her friends—they were drinking—and she has no memory of what happened except for her leaving the house without her pants. She had been corresponding with other people to find out more information and during our phone conversation she finds out something sexual did occur with some dude. At first the guy involved claimed they had sex but we find out later it was something a little less than that…

Me: “I can’t believe you could do something like that and not remember. Look, I gotta go. I’m at work…”

My body is nervous, hands shaking, blood boiling. I continue prepping the bags like normal trying to sink this concept in. She calls me back repeatedly. I ignore repeatedly.

Now she’s outside in her car. Reluctantly, I invite her to ride with me on a few delivery runs.

Her: “Are you giving me the silent treatment?”

Me: “Sorry. I’m just sinking things in…You’re a hypocrite. I mean, everybody’s a hypocrite. But what you did is just hypocritical…and irresponsible…You don’t even remember what happened? That’s ridiculous!”

She’s upset at herself—tears…

Me: “The fact that you would allow yourself to get so obliterated and do something like that, unconsciously…I knew there was a reason I didn’t want to go through this sexual contract with you. This is the perfect example.”

The alcohol. The lack of inhibitions. The lack of purity. The lack of boundaries. It’s disgusting. I’ve disgusted my own self before. But it’s terribly unnerving to observe it in other people, especially the ones you’re supposed to respect.

Me: “Look, I can’t be a part of this if you’re going to do things like that. I know it was unintentional and you were in a drunken state. But you made a choice to be there—to put yourself in that environment. You’ve done this before and I feel like you’re never going to learn.”

I scold her over the lack of alcohol control.

Her: “Are you telling me if you were drunk and there was a pretty girl standing in front of you—”

Me: “There’s a reason I don’t drink like that. There’s a reason.”

It’s true. I am affected by this. But I don’t have the right to feel cheated on, but goodness; we just had sex the night before! That’s the most disturbing part about it.

We pull up to the restaurant. The conversation veers to the topic of reviving the relationship.

Her: “Robert, I still believe in this…I want to be with you. I still love you.”

Me: “It’s not a question of love. I made a decision to be alone…”

Her: “Why is that not enough?”

Me: “Because it’s just not. It’s the most important part, yes. But something wasn’t working…”

Her: “I feel calm with you. That’s why I needed to see you.”

I have to get back inside to grab more orders. I give her a hug goodbye…

Me: “I’m not proud of you…but I still care…”

Lunch: Egg Sandwich with Tomato, Basil, and Mayonnaise. Blue and Yukon Gold Potato Chips.

Two Chinese couch surfers from Williamsburg show up at the house. They trekked all the way here on bicycle.

Amanda calls while I’m driving…

Her: “Why do you sound so bummed?”

Me: “[ha] How did you know?”

Her family orders food later…I have to come in contact with her crazy dog…

Her: “So why are you bummed?”

Me: “I just feel really disturbed. That’s the best way to put it.”

I’ve come to the stark realization that everyone is fake…and we all choose to live in a fantasy realm where only desire matters and destruction reigns. 

Ice Cream Cone.

Delivering an order at Springhill Suites on 9th street. Just my luck to find crowds of people waiting to go up on the elevators. I give it two seconds then retreat to climbing 11 flights of stairs. And I didn’t walk. I ran. Coming back down made me feel dizzy.

Delivering an order on Huntwick Lane. I notice the last four digits of the customer’s phone number are 1111.

Delivering my last order for the night. This place requires an access code to enter the lobby. The customer tells me its 1111#.

The Apophenia is killing me.

Tofu with Mixed Vegetables and Rice in Garlic Sauce.

Rushing over to Rusty’s place for the show. Vaginasaurs Wok N Woll! Clad in a shoulder-padded dress and long hair wig Stephanie lent me. Wailing on the drums in a heated claustrophobic living room—faces everywhere. Sipping on a Shock Top.

Afterwards, out in the front yard—laughter—chitchat…

Amanda explains how uneasy she felt about not getting a fortune in her fortune cookie today, "Oh my god. I just got a fortune cookie with no fortune in it, ugh this is like the ULTRA disappointment!”

Russell makes me try on these red high heels for a photo op. Apparently, he does this to all the bands that roll through.

Stephanie is really hyped up on Vaginasaur camaraderie…

Back home…

Darren knocks and enters my room uninvited…

Me: “Alright you’ve got five minutes.”

Kevin walks in uninvited…

Me: “Uhh! You’ve got zero minutes.”

Darren: “Yeah get out I want my five minutes with Robert.”

Darren: “People naturally form v shapes in groups of three. [when walking]”

Darren: “I just don’t think that girls like me anymore.”

Watching Restrepo (2010).

Cinnamon Toast Crunch.

I notice Stephanie has exactly 1,111 photos currently posted on Facebook.

Sleep 4 a.m.

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