Monday November 28 2011


Alarm goes off at 11:11 a.m.

All day shift at China Wok.

Orange Juice.

A beautiful day.

[Text Message]

Margot: “I’m really sad about everything :(”

Me: “yeah me too. theres a lot of things to be sad about.”

Margot: “I want you to hold me”

Me: “aw i want to hold you”

Margot: “No like I’m serious. Like I want that now.”

Me: “you’re cute. okay. well you know im at work.”


And she drops by all pretty and bright eyed but still upset about everything deep inside that head of hers, and it shows in the conversations we have while I’m delivering. Some of her statements are sharp and hard-hitting, making me feel sick to my stomach. But it also makes me feel good to be needed by her—to be sought after for comfort. I will admit that. We’ll always love each other in some way shape or form.

She talks casually about wanting to do all these things with me if I had the day off...

“We can go to Bangkokky [Bangkok Garden], then Targgy [Target], then take a nap and watch a movie.”

I’m aware how sneaky she is. And I like it. But I have my wall up. Cause I know she retreats to me for attention, the attention she couldn’t currently get from another.


Me: “You’re more like a Sweet Tart. You last longer than Sour Patch Kids.”

Chic-fil-A Spicy Chicken Sandwich. Waffle Fries. Sweet Tea.

It’s a slow work shift tonight.

Thinking about the lusty recklessness and sexual irreverence that goes on in everyone’s mind and how pressing it can be to fight back with purity and honor.

Ice Cream Cone.

judge a man by his face not his shadow.

Back home.

Making Pizza with Syrup-Glazed Onions and Garlic. Baking Chocolate Crinkle Cookies. All the dwellers of the house are home along with Becca, Stephanie, and Sarah.

Becca cuts my hair...while people dance closely around me.

Vaginasaurs recording at the storage unit. Stephanie is constantly burping while we track her vocals—so much laughing.

“Give me more cute and sassy. You’re Gwen Stephanie!”

“One! Two! Three! Roar!”

A bowl of Cheerios with Brown Sugar.

Sleep 5 a.m.

[i] Roar. Jerrold Litwinenko.

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