Wednesday November 30 2011


DREAM: Driving my station wagon. Veer off the side of the road and into the river. Splash. It’s okay because in my mind I believe this car to have boating capabilities. Accelerating fast. The front of the car submerged. The shadow of a water creature down below following me. An alligator? Maybe it thinks my green car is also an alligator because even though I sense danger that it might jump up and lock its jaws, it never does. It has a playful attitude. I arrive at an inlet and hop off onto land. At this point the dream takes a vivid turn. I want to say I’m half lucid dreaming. I’m reminded of a previous dream where I talked with white owls in a ravine. That was also very vivid. I take a look around: a beautiful landscape...the oranges and pinks of the sunset...the luscious trees. The space I’m standing in is kind of a room but with no walls and intertwined with the surrounding nature. A shoe appears in the center of this inlet. I run over to inspect it. Picking it up—analyzing the brand name and information plates snapped on the bottom. It’s a black high heel. Why was this put here? Is it a clue to help me in waking life? In the end I understand it to belong to Stephanie even though at first I had other guesses. But this isn’t something she would wear. Down the river other foreign cars pull up. They’re understood to be security and law enforcers of some kind. They question what I’m doing here.

Waking up at 1 p.m. Her warm arms envelope me. This is familiar but also strange.


Margot gets me to join her at Bangkok Garden for lunch.

Inside the restaurant—the dark red maple wood furniture—the baby-like bell songs on the overhead speakers makes you feel like you’re in a dollhouse.

Me: “I want to live in beauty.”

Her: “I’m sure you’ll find it.”

Me: “I’m finding it.”


Sharing Chicken Pad Thai with Spring Rolls and Thai Coffee.


Me: “I like the calmness between you and I right now.”


Her: “Come tanning with me!”

Me: “No. I don’t want to.”

Her: “Why not? You’re a ghost.”

Me: “I like being a ghost.”

Vaginasaurs rehearsal at Stephanie’s house.

Leftover Pad Thai. Strawberry Yogurt. Honey Green Tea.

Immediately after, I drive to Hampton to meet with Tim—rehearsing Musicplayer songs for a good 3 hours.

Potato Chip Trio.

Back home...


A bowl of Cheerios with Brown Sugar.

Over at Stephanie’s place. Discussions at the glass table while we paint Vaginasaur emblems and designs onto patches. Cheery shoegaze tunes in the background...

Her: “When do you say when?”

Me: “Yeah when do you say this is it?”

Her: “I guess when you get really old and you figure you gotta start reproducing.”

Me: “Yeah I think that’s it. I’m 27. I’m gonna turn 30...I’m gonna realize, you know when I’m old. I should just settle. I’m gonna be that 50 year old man, single, creeping on young girls.”

Her: “Do all guys grow up wanting to be that?”



Her: “I feel like I just end up meeting people and then I just jump into it.”


Her: “Is that what you did with Tokyo and Mae?”

Me: “We talked in the tour van...”

Her: “What’d you talk about?”

Me: “Dude, we figured everything there was to figure out about life!”


Her: “Do you pick up girls at bars? Should I go to Shakas and get a boyfriend?”

Me: “Oo. If you want an STD? Yeah.”

Her: “Aw that was such a cute grandpa thing to say.”


She breaks out these plastic cups with flashing colored lights built into the bottom, obviously taken from a cruise ship. Drinking champagne...

We continue painting...

Her: “I was in the car today...I was thinking about hope. Hope is like the coolest thing...”

Me: “Hope is important. I think optimism is important.”

Her: “What would your mom tell you whenever you got really sad or heartbroken?”

Me: “She’s so understanding and makes you feel so good about yourself. And she validates your feelings.”

Her: “Aw. I want to be a mom like that with empathy.”

Me: “Oh yeah. Extremely empathetic. That’s where I get my empathy from for sure. And the sentimentality and the sensitivity.”


Her: “You’re a new man with new teeth, new hair, and new visions.”

Me: “That’s right.”


We raise our sparkly champagne cups...

Me: “Here’s to new visions!”

Her: “This is awesome. You’re life is so fun.”


Me: “You definitely try to portray an exciting personality, well you have one, but you try to portray, hey my life is fun and so should yours! Cause really, Stef, only boring people are bored. And you’re not bored. And so you’re not boring.”


Me: “It’s weird though to think about my transitions in high school as a person.”

Her: “Me too.”


Smoke break on the back porch. It’s cold. The solid white of the clouds contrasting the black sky and twinkling stars.

Her: “It’s really hard. You have to deal with a lot of no’s and I feel like after living in New York and trying to do art seriously and working in a production office. Doing creative work there’s just so many no’s...”

Me: “I get really frustrated every time I put energy into people musically and then they just end up all that time and work.”

Her: “Everything’s like that. Relationships. Friends.”

Me: “Yeah you’re right. I feel like in the musical form or in the creative world I would just like to have committed people. I feel like I’m constantly taking steps back.”

Her: “That’s not good.”

Me: “I’m taking steps forward for myself you know.”

Her: “Well, I’m committed. Any project you want me in I’m committed.”

Me: “That’s why I like you. That’s why I like these kinds of people.”


Her: “It’s hard to get people on board with your vision…I’m serious about whatever. I want to do stuff. I’m super gung ho. I feel like that’s the bad part of me cause I’m an Aries, like the ram. I just charge at everything.”

Me: “That’s a good quality. I think as long as you be selective sometimes, like where you put your energy.”

Her: “I’m enjoying the chaos right now. My favorite part is being fucking busy with people doing fun shit.”


Her: “I want to tell you I’m really thankful for you as my friend. I really am cause you’re really awesome. And all the people that you’ve let me meet are really cool. I feel like I’m in a good place people-wise.”

Feeling a new sense of companionship, or rather a new level of it at least—a better appreciation and respect for her.


Me: “It’s funny how you assume that people have these lives that you think they’re so happy and okay with and you don’t even know behind the curtains they’re actually unsatisfied. It’s not exactly how you envisioned their life to be. People see you and they’re like, oh yeah she’s got loads of friends and she’s like always happy. But you know that’s not real. That’s just a Facebook page.”


Her: “Can we be friends when we’re really old?”

Me: “I think we will. You got to work at that though. There has to be something that’s permanent and doesn’t dissipate. It’s a rare thing to find in friends.”


Her: “All I know is I’m gonna die one day and I wanna have fun.”

Me: “I’m gonna die one day and I’m gonna have a record of it...of all this fun.”


Her: “Am I gonna play Bridge when I’m old?”


Her: “I really value people that walk their own walk.”

Me: “Do you feel like being with someone that has their own walk, that wouldn’t be conflicting?”

Her: “No I think that would be amazingly interesting.”


Her: “Calm deep water. There’s something kind of eerie about calm deep water...I need someone that’s their own person that also just wants to ride my ride with me…”

Sharing clove cigarettes outside...

Her: “I’m so wise all of a sudden.”

Me: “It’s the clove, dude.”

Her: “Yeah Robert we gotta be friends when we’re old.”

Me: “Okay. I’m down. I’ll sign the papers.”



Her: “Dude, I feel hearts. I feel so many people’s hearts. It’s so crazy.”


Time to leave...

Earlier Margot offered to help me drop my car off at the shop overnight. So we take care of that and she spends the night so that when the car is done she can give me a ride back to it. Maybe it’s another excuse. But I don’t mind. Last night was nice. I don’t find myself becoming attached to her. To cuddle up next to someone and feel their awesome warmth is such a comfort. It’s something we as humans need.

Sleep shortly after 4 a.m.

[i] All images by me.

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