Waking up around 2 p.m.
Scrambled Eggs with Cheese. Toast with Butter and Blackberry Jam. Orange Juice. Zinc.
I sent her an email, a sort of last letter, but not really. Summing up everything—making official how I feel. Iterating the rules of no contact but also empathetic and describing my emotions. I won’t dispense the actual letter but when the blog book is published years from now it can be accessed.
Stretching and listening to Mas Y Mas downstairs—jumping jacks and basic movement of the body to get the blood flowing. Darren shakes his head at me as he approaches the bottom of the stairs.
Strawberry Yogurt.
Meeting up with Stephanie at Rachel Woolard’s house for a hot minute to record the ideas for Vaginasaurs songs. She offers to buy me Taco Bell if I give her a ride home. Not. I do anyway, without the Taco Bell, but her house keys are nowhere to be found. Beer, Bagels, and Lunchables from Target.
Me: “I go here because the bagels are cheaper. Most things here like groceries are cheaper.”
Stef: “Okay, Gramps!”
In the car talking about other people and the idea of being jaded from former serious relationships—losing hope for anything long-lasting.
Back home. Sitting down at the card table with Stef and Darren. He’s proud of this Salmon Dill Cream Cheese dip he just concocted. Dipping some Triscuits in it. Eating a Peanut Butter Bagel with Honey Green Tea.
Darren: “Dude did you just take a shit in that bathroom?”
Me: “Yeah why?”
Darren: “Cause it smells like somebody died!”
Me: “My shits smell like death. I’m an intense guy.”
Google work.
Nicole and I ride to Art’s place for poker night. We haven’t really conversed much in a while. I’ve been mentally, emotionally, and socially preoccupied. Catching up somewhat.
It’s a little calmer and focused over here rather than at 1435. It could be because we don’t have the intensity of Darren and Kevin’s antics. James Graves and his friends are here along with Art and Roma. Sharing beers and salt n vinegar chips...Luck seems to be on James’s side tonight cause he wins the pot.
Art: “Miserable percent!”
Art: “Think about it twice, Robert.”
Nicole: “The age of 10...when everything was pure.”
Back home...at the card table with Darren and Anthony—sharing carrots and ranch. Making a pizza with Onions and Green Peppers.
Later, sticking copies of a yearbook photo of Darren in the eighth grade all over the house. He’s very proud of it...
I’m reprimanded by Anthony and Darren for not hanging out with them, or my friends for that matter, outside the house—treating the house as a school where you have no choice but to see and hang out with the other students. They really want me to join them for lunch tomorrow but I decline with the usual excuse of being busy, which I do need to practice music before the show tomorrow at Kelsie’s vintage store grand opening, “With Lavender and Lace” (http://www.facebook.com/event.php?eid=308312119185476) and I’d like to spend time recording beforehand. My day is going to feel conclusive after the show and I have a threshold for social stimulation. They still feel I’m making excuses rather than giving legitimate reasons. Whatever. I’m me. I know what I need. I push myself to be productive and I get stuff done because of it. And I have to prioritize. But that’s not to say I don’t appreciate them, my friends. I do feel I could give more of my time to my brothers...
Sleep shortly after 4:30 a.m.
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