Wednesday February 29 2012


DREAM: Taking pictures in the city with my little camera. I catch a beautiful double rainbow that encircles the skyline. Then all of a sudden I’m helping direct a film. The scene is set at a drive-in theater. Atop a mountain is a projector screen and a small flame lit beside it. The camera view switches between two cars, one with two lovers, and one with a man and a boy ridiculing the two lovers on screen. I feel proud of this set-up as it was my idea to include this layer of drama.

Waking up just after noon. The rain taps discreetly on the window where the Boba Fett jet pack sits.

Sharing breakfast together. Hot English Breakfast Tea. Hard Boiled Egg. Grilled Peanut Butter Sandwiches. Peach. Orange Juice.

Hitting the road to New York. Nasty. Rainy. Dreary. New Jersey Turnpike. 

Traffic on the Brooklyn-Queens Expressway.

Potato Chip Trio. Strawberry Cereal Bar. Aloe Vera Drink.

Arriving in Brooklyn. Getting ready at a friend of Stephanie’s then heading to the venue. Traffic is over saturated as expected in a city like this. The Charleston is right on Bedford Avenue where the Brooklyn hipster veterans thrive. The bar is open but the basement venue doesn’t open for another few hours. So we chill and have a few beers...talking with some of the bands. Eating delicious Falafels from across the street.

Caitlin Pasko, one of my best friends from a different time, shows up. It’s been almost two years since I’ve seen her. We walk across the street to a bagel shop and chat it out about relationships and being in New York has benefited her dreams and ambitions. I express my distress back home with being tied down, not feeling accomplished the way I want to. She encourages a drastic idea that I’ve always blown off and been afraid to do: moving. I’ve never been interested in moving to a big city. I like suburbia. I like Virginia Beach and I feel responsible for being a part of fostering the culture there. But it’s only a curiosity. I miss the analytical interaction with Caitlin. She’s doing well for herself here in New York, signed to a record label that books her shows and working for a PR group.


Back at the venue. Downstairs in a tight black stale basement the first band rocks out pop punk jams. We’re up next. Putting on an energetic set and pleasing the laid back crowd with comedy and cute catchy tunes. We seem to be well received here. The Finks and Infinity Hotel put on great sets as well. 

Afterwards, we meet up at a dive bar called The Gutter that has an attached bowling alley to it and gather around a big table with our friends in Infinity Hotel drinking select drafts. Discussing Brooklyn life and other fun topics. Turns out Sarah, the girl drummer in the band, has the same birthday as me. Van, a mutual friend of ours from Virginia Beach, joins us. He just moved here. It’s an invigorating chill social atmosphere. I wouldn’t choose to be anywhere else right now. It’s getting late, a little after 3 in the morning. The bars around here stay open past 2 unlike back home.

We drive to Van’s apartment. After about fifteen minutes of scouting out a parking space I use my hidden parallel parking skills and merge into a really tight spot.


Settling down in Van’s pad. There’s one little futon that Stef takes and Sarah and I take the floor. I manage to pile up a blanket underneath a sleeping bag as cushioning.

Earlier, Margot was shooting me insecure texts like crazy...

“I need to know I’m your baby, that you adore me and I’m the love of your life and no one else will ever be. Ever. Then maybe I’ll stop being so insecure.”

She also sent me cute sexy pictures of a new bra she just bought. I feel bad because there’s been minimal response on my end while I’ve been on tour. I want her to know I miss her, which I’ve said a few times, but I also want to be where I am and focus on what’s going on around me. She just needs attention and a lot of affirmation...

Feeling drunk and exhausted. It’s time for sleep.

[i] Show Flyer. All other images by Stephanie and me.

Tuesday February 28 2012


DREAM: A story saturated in awkward and tense confrontations between high profile gangsters in a southern part of America, maybe in Florida. A white mansion of a property with a river flowing through it.

12:26 p.m. finally awakening from slumber.

Peach. Strawberry Cereal Bar.

On the road...leaving Maryland. I drive. Sarah makes us Peanut Butter Sandwiches. Adding some Quaker Rice Snacks and Aloe Vera Drink.

We make a quick pit stop at a local food and produce stand called Country Bumpkin Grub. The car won’t start for some reason, which is surprising after just recently getting it checked. But a kind gentleman with a country twang gives it a jump-start and we’re on our way.


Our Philly show got cancelled giving us a day off and giving us an opportunity to explore the city. We meet up with Matt Reed, a guy Sarah used to know from high school. Relaxing at his pad, which has a back door that opens up to nothing but ledge or anything. Another guy that bares my name shows up and we go on a night adventure...


We trek the chilly streets of Philly and come across a pile of discarded junk: a box full of DVD’s, books, notebooks, and penis paintings. Then, making our way into Chinatown finding a noodle restaurant...

Egg and Vegetable Drawn Noodle with Soup.

Then to a bakery nearby...

Apple Pie Tart. Lotus-Filled Egg Tart. Hot Bubble Milk Tea.

Marching through the center of the capital building...untainted gothic structures...cherub columns and nightscapes. Running into a lively man in a suit covered in a long brown coat rocking chrome headphones. He asks for a light and explains that...“Yeah, I was just rapping about nutrition at this guy’s house!” He points to his buddy then pulls out a business card that claims him to be a personal health trainer. He laughs at himself, “I work out in my suit.”

There’s a comedy show Matt wanted to attend at this hip bar called The Barbary. We take a cab and find ourselves in a dark lit room being entertained by indie comedians reading off their list of jokes. In between, an on going skit about cleansing and an 80’s fashioned dance troupe. An hour or so later the dance floor opens up and the bar slings out dollar PBR’s. Nothing holds me back from shaking all the limbs on my body amidst this humble crowd.

Shouting in the street...

“Dude! You are the beat!”

“Yes. I am the beat! Everyone is the beat!”

Settling down back at Matt’s pad. After a nice hot shower and much needed solo sexual release I’m off to sleep on a comfy black couch directly underneath a Bob Marley poster around 3:30 a.m.

[i] All images by me.

Monday February 27 2012


10:40 a.m. alarm goes off.

Hot Cinnamon Oat Bran with Brown Sugar, Flax Seed, Peaches, and Coconut Milk.

The station wagon is all packed and ready to go. Picking up Sarah and Stephanie and starting out towards Baltimore. Stef’s mom is being very mom-like, “Don’t forget socks, Stephanie!”

Stef: “Mom! No moms on tour!”


Before we even reach Richmond Stef needs to pee two different times.


Hard Boiled Egg. Quaker Cheddar Cheese Rice Cakes. Honey Green Tea.


Blaring tunes. Getting into discussions on the repeating conflicts in relationships...the inevitable woes that happen when two people have a history...fighting the effects of the past, your tolerance for the other person’s quirks and attitude. How much of that can you deal with in order to make you happy?

Arriving in Baltimore. Through email beforehand a nice lady invited us to her home to cook a meal for us. She does catering for a living and makes meals for touring bands. It’s called Feed The Scene. She’s quite the character...ecstatic in every way. Not the kind of person I want to be around 24 hours a day but incredibly hospitable. Her kitchen holds the oldest mechanized ceiling fan in Baltimore apparently.

We’re served a delicious Quinoa dish with Spinach, Mushrooms, Tofu, and Shrimp.

Anthony sends me a quote: “I think men, especially those dried-up moderns, have lost hope because they are blind to beauty, and I hasten to say, to its reward.” – Jack Kerouac

Heading to the venue: Charm City Art Space, a garage section in downtown Baltimore. A gritty noisy punk duo called Hive Bent is on stage when we arrive. The kids are packed, maybe about 40 or 50 throughout the night...a really cool crowd.


Stephanie’s reaction to the shitty PA system provided for us: “It’s 2012 you don’t have reverb?”


Baklavaa, another noisy punk band graces us with an intense performance. Then we, The Vaginasaurs, go on. We do the best we can with no way to really hear our vocals. The on-stage comical and cute antics seems to woo the audience...

St. Stephen goes on after us, a more melodic indie pop sound with a lot of falsetto leads...a thoroughly enjoyable set.

We’re rewarded with an unexpected compensation from the cover at the door but then find out we got a parking ticket for obstructing the sidewalk even though the promoter assured us it was okay. That’s big city for you.

Afterwards, we hang out with the dudes from St. Stephen and their friends at an apartment down the street. This place has a spiral staircase. Sharing National Bohemian beers (the locals call this Natty Bo) and music and good-humored conversation.

Time to eat. We drive to the Double T diner in Glen Burnie and enjoy a hearty late night breakfast with the bass player Jesse, the lead singer Stephen, and his sister, Ali.

Two Short Stack Pancakes with Two Eggs and Milk.

Stephen confesses his ridiculous obsession with cereal and how he eats a bowl for almost every meal. We joke about starting a fan club entitled “Are You 4 Cereal?” The double meaning is too much to contain our laughter.

We part ways and resign to the promoter’s apartment in Arnold. We take over the couches and floor space. Iron Chef on TV in the background. I settle down on one end of the reclined couch.


In the middle of the night I feel a startling bounce at the foot of my chair. In the moment I forgot there was any sort of cat roaming around the house and freaked out, but then I was comforted by a warm purring fur coat of body situating himself between my legs. The combination of the rumble of the cat’s body and Stephanie’s looming snore strangely lulls me off to sleep.

[i] All images by me and friends.

Sunday February 26 2012


DREAM: In my neighborhood Chanticleer I discover a cell phone propped on the edge of a tree branch in such an obvious manner someone must’ve put it there on purpose. I browse through the phone to figure out who the owner is. His name is Jeff Gnome and it shows that he worked as some mechanic in the Netherlands for seven years then just recently moved here. He lives in a court around the corner. I decide to return the phone. I locate his apartment. It’s a complicated task trying to figure out if it’s A, B, C, or D. I’m climbing up an enclosed net tunnel instead of a stairwell. I knock on his door. He lets me in...

Waking up around 11:30 a.m. I have to run. She doesn’t support the idea of me leaving and makes that famous frown of hers. In a kiddy voice she announces, “No leaving.”

At Stephanie’s house for our last Vaginasaurs rehearsal before our tour that starts tomorrow.
Orange Juice.


Grilled Cheese (Soy) with Tomato. Tortilla Chips with Fresh Guacamole and Salsa. Honey Green Tea.

Watching The Red Violin (1998).


Coffee with Sugar and Coconut Milk. Chocolate Chip Cookies.

Organizing. Packing.

Orange Chicken-Less Chicken with String Beans, Mushrooms, Green Peppers, and Rice. Josephsbrau PLZNR.

Watching The Red Violin (1998).

Margot closes tonight so I go to visit her for a little while around midnight. We strike up an in depth conversation about the state of things. She’s antsy for something concrete and having premature expectations for material symbols of affection, like cards and rings. I guess I just place more importance on the intangible. The uncertainty is getting to her, and to me. But I explain that the history is what keeps these hesitations there...

Me: “I don’t want to be like those movies, like the sequels that are just the same story made again. I want to make a new story...something fresh. We have to create a new story. There’s no other option.”

Back home. Packing.

Margot calls me after she gets off work and convinces me to let her sleep with me...I can’t complain...

Sleep around 3:30 a.m.

[i] Packing for Vag Tour. Image by Stephanie.

Saturday February 25 2012


DREAM: Margot, James Duke, and I are hanging out somewhere in a house. It’s understood things are cool between all of us. I leave them alone for a minute to do something. I return just in time to see them enter the guest bathroom with reciprocated sexual intentions. The door shuts and I immediately intervene.

Me: “What the fuck is going on here?”

Without question I wrap my hands around his throat choking him as a threat...

Me: “I’m gonna say this one time. I don’t want to see you around her ever again. Back the fuck off!”

I let go of my hold and we all move out in the driveway.

Him: “Wait. I think you should hear the story.”

As if he has something more to tell me.

Me: “No. We’re not having a conversation.”

Her: “Yeah! Get the fuck out of here, bitch!”

As if she is without guilt and perturbed by him being here all along.

I turn to her and scold her for her actions...

Me: “Margot. What the fuck were YOU doing?”

I wake up feeling a little disturbed at 11 a.m. But she’s here next to me sound asleep so sweetly.

Hot Cinnamon Oat Bran with Brown Sugar, Flax Seed, Blueberries, and Coconut Milk. Aloe Vera Drink.

All day shift at China Wok.

Margot stops by with some Panera for lunch...

Creamy Tomato Soup. Tuna Salad Sandwich with Lettuce and Tomato. Honey Green Tea.

Chocolate Chip Cookies.

Delivering an order to my favorite customer, Rob. Along with his chicken teriyaki on a stick I grab a few six packs and some smokes per his request. I arrive at his house. He’s usually lounging in the living in his roughed up chair. This time I find him in his bed past out with an almost empty whiskey bottle tipped over in his hand. I startle him when I call out his name. He doesn’t even remember ordering. I don’t know how this guy lives. I don’t think he actually does.

Delivering an order to Starbucks by the mall. The girl employees are closing up and offer me a drink along with a decent tip. I take an Iced Coffee with Milk and Honey.

The orders come in late almost an hour past my usual close time. Buh. Soon, it’s finally over.

Sautéed Broccoli, Onions, and Snow Peas with leftover Pad Thai.

Hanging out at Margot’s. I instigate some much needed sex time. Short-lived but satisfying nonetheless.


Finishing the Captain America movie. Eating Garlic Bread with Cookies n Cream Ice Cream.

Sleep 3:30 a.m.

[i] Drunken Cat.

Friday February 24 2012


Waking up at 1:20 p.m.


I pick up Margot for an afternoon date hangout. Lunch at Bangkok Garden. Sharing Chicken Pad Thai and Spring Rolls along with Thai Tea and Coffee. Innocent tinkle bell sounds playing overhead making us feel like we’re in a dollhouse.

I take her to the mall where I accompany her on a quest for a new dress and shoes. We end up walking out with nothing.

Me: “Well we didn’t accomplish anything. But I guess it was good exercise.”

Vaginasaurs rehearsal at Stephanie’s. Running through the set and getting comfortable.

Enjoying a few Peanut Butter Oatmeal Chocolate Chip Cookies that Sarah made the night before.

Arugula Pizza. Tortilla Chips with Salsa and Guacamole.

Organizing the last of my music files and syncing hard drives to back it up.

Darren and Dan are hanging out downstairs. Margot joins. I serve them the guacamole I made earlier and chocolate chip cookies.


Darren: “Would you trade the secrets of the universe for fine sweet pussy?”

Me: “Why can’t you have both? Stephen Hawking sure does.”

Margot and I snuggle up in my room while watching the latest Captain America movie.

Sipping on a Josephsbrau PLZNR.

Sleep at 3:20 a.m.

[i] Margot in the dressing room. Image by me.

Thursday February 23 2012


DREAM: Living room. Strange dusty stuffed animals and couch knick-knacks. Rearranging everything for a show……………A burnt out school bus drives by on it’s own. I hear an announcer presenting the bus to me or maybe to an audience. I have an idea to possess this bus and build it into a venue or use it for something along those lines. A man I don’t know offers to fly me over to the bus. We hop inside this transparent sphere vehicle that hovers above the ground. I’m seated behind the man as he steers. My hands have to hold onto him...sometimes our hands touch and interlock. It feels uncomfortable...

Margot wakes up for school. I decide to just get out of bed shortly after. It’s about 11 a.m.

Hot Cinnamon Oat Bran with Brown Sugar, Flax Seed, Blueberries, and Coconut Milk. Orange Juice. Zinc (50mg).

Kevin writes a list of grievances from when he worked at Papa John’s on the back of a pizza box...

Grilled Cheese (Soy) with Tomato. Salt n Vinegar Chips. Honey Green Tea.

Watching TRON (1982).

Vaginasaurs practice at Stephanie’s house. Running through the set.

Aloe Vera Drink. Peach.

Tuna Steak with Peppers, Onions, Mushrooms, and String Beans. Rice. Josephsbrau PLZNR.

Watching Shooters (2002).

Music file organizing.

Darren walks into my room in haste with an obvious lot on his mind. He seems out of breath after just getting back from hanging out with friends of ours at a show. His observations about people have upset him in the worst way tonight...

Darren: “I think I’m more comfortable when people don’t like me.”

Baking Chocolate Chip Cookies. Having four with Milk.

More music file organizing.

On and off playing guitar and writing a wispy new song.

Sleep around 4 a.m.

[i] Burnt School Bus in Srinagar, India.

Wednesday February 22 2012


Waking up just before noon.


Errands Part One. Replacing hard case for my new phone at Verizon. Bank. Gas. Groceries at Kroger and Trader Joe’s.

Grilled Cheese with Tomato. Tortilla Chips with Fresh Guacamole and Salsa. Aloe Vera Drink.


Darren knocks on my door...

Me: “What?!”

Darren: “I have something important to tell you!”

Me: “Okay. What?”

Darren: “I just read on a website that the sun’s diameter is shrinking five feet every hour. So life couldn’t have existed 100 thousand years ago. That means Jesus is real and the rapture is coming. What are we gonna do?”

Me: “I don’t know. What should we do?”

Darren: “We gotta get one of those coupon books they used to sell in high school.”


Then, Elliott walks in all clean-shaven with a mustache from the 80’s and a basketball t-shirt. Then, Kevin arrives happy that he just got the job to be a debt collector. It’s a sausage fest in my bedroom.

Elliott takes me with him to finish off my errands and do some of his.

Editing. Organizing.

Coffee with a little bit of Brown Sugar and Coconut Milk. Granola Bar.

Art stops by briefly and we hear about Darren’s jail-time experiences.

Tuna Steak. String Beans, Mushrooms, and Green Peppers. Rice.

Watching a little bit of TRON (1982).

Music file organizing.

Heading to Margot’s for the night. When I walk in she’s on Skype talking to some old high school friend that lives in Vegas. So I resign to her room and configure my phone while she finishes her conversation. She joins me in the bedroom and plops into my lap. Testing out the camera on my new phone and taking pictures of us. Something goes wrong in the dialogue and she shows signs of being tired and stressed and exasperated. She has such a short fuse sometimes. We get into a squabble about nothing and everything all at once. Second night in a row for nasty arguments. I’m too logical for my own good...too simple for her hint-based dramatizations. When the tour I’m about to go on gets brought up it turns into an attack on my music quests. She exclaims I need to get real and stop dreaming and that I’m not going anywhere with my music. I feel ultra insulted that a person claiming to love me is basically telling me to stop dreaming and stop doing what I love to do.

Me: “I can’t believe you’re saying this! Who are you? I would hope that the person that loves me would support me in all I do. This is stupid!”

After a few more debates I get up to leave...

Me: “We’re just not getting along tonight. I need to go home. My head is throbbing.”

She gets mad...and starts sobbing underneath a blanket.

Me: “I’m going outside for a minute. I’ll be back.”

I light up a Djarum Mild and let the cool night breeze refresh me.


I hear her open the door behind me. She’s standing there with the blue blanket wrapped around her whole body. Her tired wet eyes are obvious.

I send a warm signal and wave my hand, “C’mere.”

She slowly walks over and into my arms...

As I stand there smoking my clove and listening to the crackle of the kretek every time I breathe in, I come to a poetic understanding about her and I. I’m a stubborn dreamer. And she’s a stubborn realist (that and experiences rejection issues). But still at heart we are both human beings with emotional and relational needs...

Me: “You look prettier when you don’t cry.”

Her: “What.”

I scan over the shiny drip marks along her cheeks...

Me: “I guess there is a glisten to it.”

We head inside and she feels the need to make up for all this mumbo jumbo by coming onto me. I couldn’t ask for anything more at the moment. I turn her over on the bed and it feels so good...a lot of verbal response. I like that.

Sleep soon after...

[i] Sebastian Haslauer.

Tuesday February 21 2012


Getting out of bed at 1:52 p.m.

Hot Cinnamon Oat Bran with Brown Sugar, Flax Seed, Blueberries, and Coconut Milk.

Riding my bike to the Verizon store to scope out my options for a new phone. Breaking my phone last night wasn’t such a terrible thing because I don’t think I would ever upgrade to a new phone otherwise. I have no choice now because they don’t produce the EnV2 phones anymore. But with the help of an employee I manage to find a smart phone for only $50 and even upgrade my mom’s phone for free.


In a rush I get Kevin to drop me off to my car at the shop. I left it over night to replace a window regulator.


Then, to Stephanie’s house for Vaginasaurs rehearsal. Running through the set and polishing up a new song. We have a tour booked next week so the pressure is high. Elliott and two of his friends from Portsmouth, Ohio stop in.

Sharing Chocolate Chip Cookies.

Back home.

Carrots and Ranch. Crab Meat with Bay Seasoning. Pasta. Black and Tan Yuengling.

Conversations at the card table with housemates and friends.

Getting comfortable with my new phone...setting up apps and tinkering with the settings.

I head over to Margot’s to bring her the contacts she left last night. She’s about to go to bed and all tucked in. I go on quite the rant in regards to her behavior the night before. And then I hear beforehand that she had hung out with the same guy she made out with while I was on tour, and he tried to kiss her again. I’m mildly upset because I know she had been drinking and I know how loose of a person she gets when she does. And it’s not that I don’t trust her. We have a clear understanding right now while we’re in this state of pre-dating or courting or unofficiality. She doesn’t like this state. She wants to be either dating or not dating. Black and white. But I have my reservations. I want patience from her. I want respect. And I want to see that things will be different before we step into any kind of real commitment. I’m very critical and try to be constructive about it but she takes it very personally and tends to develop a defeatist attitude with no desire for hope in herself or us.

Back home in my bed feeling exhausted.

Sleep around 4 a.m.

[i] Glass Wall Wave (Sea Sculpture No.6). William Dalton.

Monday February 20 2012


Hot Cinnamon Oatmeal with Brown Sugar, Flax Seed, Banana, and Coconut Milk. Aloe Vera Drink.

All day shift at China Wok.

Snapping the snow peas.

Chic-fil-A Spicy Chicken Sandwich with Lettuce, Tomato, Mayonnaise, and Mustard. Waffle Fries and Sweet Tea.

While stocking the can sodas at work I notice a big red heart graphic printed on the diet coke cans. Apparently Coca-Cola is one of the main supporters of the Heart for Truth campaign. My mind is blown. This is too ironic. How is it a company that makes products linked to obesity and heart disease manages to endorse a campaign aimed at eliminating said ill-health problems?   

Steady night for deliveries. It’s cold enough to see my breath.

Listening to talk radio...

Anthony had texted me a few days ago a Mark Twain quote that hit everything on the nail. I ask him to re-send it...

“Plain question and plain answer make the shortest road out of most perplexities.”

Finally off work...

Broccoli and Snow Peas in Garlic Sauce with Rice. Shrimp Egg Roll.

Fortune cookie: “The most difficult lessons are those with the greatest rewards.”


James Graves is in the house! He brings over pizza for everyone and offers me a ride to drop my car off at the shop...

James: “I’m here to make your guys lives happier.”

Darren: “You’re a moving carnival. You just come over here with pizza and rides...”



Making Chocolate Chip Cookies from scratch. All the dwellers of the house are downstairs feeling good about life. We’re a 1435 family. The cookies turn out almost perfect. Margot had called me earlier. I could tell she was a little drunk. She was insistent about sleeping with me and all that. I told her to come over after one. So here she is. But something doesn’t click. I guess Elisa, one our female roommates, rubs her the wrong way and she’s a little overwhelmed with all the people and the noise. She ends up exiting with an attitude and acts really offended that I’m baking cookies and hanging out with my friends. I’m completely perplexed. But I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. This puts a damper on the freedom of the night. She’s sitting in her car while I’m standing in the house...on the phone with her begging me to come get her or she’s really going to leave.

Me: “What is your problem? You are acting like a child! Just come inside.”

I’m the asshole she says. I’m the rude one she says. I’m being a jerk she says. I try to keep my cool and speak logical things without any emotional tints. But she won’t stop repeating the same phrases. While listening to this immature nonsense something happened inside me. I feel a rage. Anger. Fed up. I couldn’t resist throwing my cell phone down on the floor. Of course this results in it breaking into two pieces. Wonderful. There’s another thing to add on my to-do list.


Eventually she marches into my room in a huff, undresses, and plops down on the bed drifting off to sleep in a matter of minutes.

Sleep 3:30 a.m.

[i] Diet Joke.
[ii] Papa John’s. Image by Elisa Comer.

Sunday February 19 2012


Waking up at 11:30 a.m.

Cinnamon Oatmeal with Brown Sugar, Flax Seed, Raisins, Banana, and Coconut Milk. Orange Juice.

All day shift at China Wok.

Aloe Vera Drink.

My mind is cluttered with uncontrollable and hateful thoughts. I’m in a bad mood. Impatient with the idiotic road behavior. But I don’t want to feel hate. It’s strange to think as I get older I would develop actual enemies. I’ve always promoted an all encompassing love and respect for human beings. I still do. The hardest part is when it’s personal. And this has more to do with the person I was forced to run into than it does with the room prank that was played on me last night.

Resorting to using that McDonalds gift card from my dad because I have no time to make lunch at the house...

Fillet-O-Fish with French Fries and Sweet Tea.

Listening to Rush Limbaugh’s persistent criticism against Obama on talk radio.

The rain falls...tremendously blurring the vision through my windshield. And of course we all know what happens when the weather gets nasty, China Wok gets busy. I can imagine the decisions being made in the homes/apartments of husbands and wives or boyfriends and girlfriends...

: “Well honey, what do you want for dinner?”

: “I don’t feel like cooking.”

♂: “And don’t feel like going out in that rain.”

: “Let’s order takeout!”

And so phones ring, the woks fire up, and the engine roars...

Delivering an order on Bay Island near Shore Drive. When it rains I’m always extra careful when walking to and from the car. But I still slip and fall along the pathway. The little girl that was by her dad’s side watches innocently through the screen door. I feel embarrassed. And my leg and hands are rewarded with a few ugly scrapes.

Eventually the rain and orders subside.

Off work and back home.

Egg, Broccoli, and Snow Peas with Rice. Mickey’s.

Fortune: “Always be modest and be proud of it!

Watching 180° South (2010).

Margot wants a sleepover. I convince her to come to my place.

She dozes off to sleep while I sip on Chai Tea and watch an interview with Howard Storm who had a near-death experience that changed his life from atheism to belief in God.

Sleep shortly after 3 a.m.

[i] Book cover (1953). I Amness The Discovery of the Self Beyond the Ego.

Saturday February 18 2012


Waking up at 11 a.m.

Hot Cinnamon Oat Bran with Brown Sugar, Flax Seed, Blueberries, and Coconut Milk. Orange Juice.

All day shift at China Wok.

Slow but steady afternoon.

Aloe Vera Drink.

Grilled Cheese (Soy) with Tomato. Potato Chip Trio. Honey Green Tea.

Kinder Bueno Chocolate Bar.

Busy day for Chinese food. Non-stop deliveries.

Finally off work...

I made plans to hang out with Margot at her place. But Darren and Kevin threw a party at the house so I stop by to investigate first. Everything seems to be the social norm until I open up my room and find it trashed. Even with the locked door someone found a way to break into it with a butter knife. Mainly it’s just a lot of Sonic stickers placed strategically on the pillows, the ceiling, and a computer monitor...the word “BRO” spelled out on the door, and tissues tossed everywhere. And things rearranged and moved around. An obvious playful prank. Nothing valuable was destroyed. But in the moment I’m livid...yelling at Kevin as he tries to play dumb. The obvious culprit was Josh and I’m sure a few of his minions. He’s a master of disaster and had no problem flipping the house upside down a few months ago. This is just not a good thing to come home to. And to top it off I ran into James Duke on my way in. Of course, he immediately found his way out. Talk about awkward. I exchanged no words with him but his presence was enough to remind me of times better left forgotten about. I leave in an angry fit slamming the doors behind me. This is my home. This is my personal space. Invasion of privacy is a torturous thing.


Retreating to Margot’s place. She has a Chanello’s Pizza ready to consume. I brought Broccoli and Snow Peas to go along with it. Sipping on a Mickey’s and watching Super 8 (2011) together. I’m still upset and she feels a slight coldness emitting from me. I told her what happened.

Her: “I’m just trying to make you happy.”

Me: “I know. I’m still upset. That was my personal space.”

Back home. Talking over things with Darren and Kevin. Darren lost his phone and thinks it got stolen so now he’s angry. What a fuckin’ day it’s been.

Cleaning up the disastrous mess in my room. After I’m done I realize it wasn’t as bad as I made it out to be in my head.

Sleep just before 4 a.m.

[i] Lee Misenheimer.

Friday February 17 2012


8:45 a.m. my alarm goes off. Awakening from my little couch slumber. All throughout the night I was tossing and turning, adjusting my long legs over the edge of the armrest.

Granola Bar. Orange Juice.

At the Richmond Dentistry School for the last of my tooth fixings. Over three hours of lying in a dental chair, jaw locked open, while Lauren, my dentist, drills three fillings in. We had difficulty with the third one as I kept feeling the drill in a certain spot so she had to keep adding more anesthetic. But for a $150 I can’t complain. You won’t see that price anywhere at a private practice.

Afterwards, I meet up with Elliott, Wesley, and Emmanuel at a diner called Joe’s Inn. Elliott and Wesley came here to see a show the night before. They offer me French Toast and Egg leftovers and watch humorously as I have to hold my hand on the right side of my cheek to keep the food from falling out. The numbness will be there for the next two hours. The coffee is the hardest to keep in. We leave and head to Emmanuel’s mansion of an apartment, with over 5 or 6 rooms. On the way we pass an oddball of a limo...a Suburban Limo. 


Then we check out Diversity Thrift Store.

Purchasing three spatulas...

Elliott: “I see you’re getting spatulas.”

Me: “Yeah, now I don’t have to go to Spatula City. That place sucks!”


I depart from the boys and enjoy a soft Peanut Butter Sandwich and Aloe Vera Drink in my car. I look over the map of Richmond on my GPS and decide to go on a solo adventure. I need to see a lake or something green and natural. I drive across the James River and pass Swan Lake where no swans reside except a fleet of wild geese. Then I come across Maymont Park. One hundred acres of rolling hills, Japanese gardens and architecture, secret bamboo trails, and various bird species...

It feels rejuvenating to be alone here in this somewhat natural environment. It’s dead beautiful. This land has a century old history and holds an enchanting allure.

I drive back towards Hampton Roads.

Power Nap at a rest stop.

Kinder Bueno Chocolate Bar.

Near the Bridge Tunnel I call my mom and have a good chat. She tells me about some of the changes and realizations in her mind and body...

Me: “You’re going through an extreme evaluation stage. It’s like taking a test at school and the subject is your life.”

Mom: “[Haha] That’s right.”

I really appreciate the fact my mom is introspective and continues to work on edifying herself. That’s the kind of person I want to be and feel like I am.

I arrive at the new Path vegan restaurant in Norfolk. They just moved to this spot and took over The Pagoda...a quaint three story Chinese tower complete with a Chinese garden. Vaginasaurs have a show tonight. I load up and people slowly start to crowd in.

Vegan Raspberry Chicken Wrap with French Fries. PBR Tall Boys.

Just Friends plays a punchy punk set. Then us, The V-saurs. We fumble through a few songs and my left arm decides to stop working somewhere along the way. Tearing off my wig in sarcastic anger. I’ve never had that happen before. I can barely bang the floor tom. But we get through it and people enjoyed it and we had a blast. Then, The Wet Boys play their Tom Waits inspired hoe down jams.

While there I run into this girl Kristin, who I know through a high school friend. A long time ago I met her at a show and we exchanged numbers but never really hung out. She remembers. We talk briefly but after the show we share a string of flirtatious but innocent texts. 

I don’t know what to make of this new interaction. I feel a little guilty for talking in such a way to another female. But I shouldn’t. It’s playful and I’m allowed to talk however I want. I still love Margot and as long as we’re seeing each other I will continue to be faithful.

Back home. I’m super exhausted...

Sleep 2:30 a.m.

[i] The Vaginasaurs at Path Pagoda. Geri Waycie.
[ii] All other images by me.