Sunday February 12 2012


Waking up around 11:30 a.m.

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

All day shift at China Wok.

It’s busy...leaving me no time to sit down. As soon as I arrive at the restaurant, another order is ready to go.

Egg Salad Sandwich with Tomato. Salt n Vinegar Chips. Aloe Vera Drink.

Stephanie drops in for a little bit to show off her CPR certification card she recently obtained. Now she can be a lifeguard this summer.

Her: “Not only am I a heart breaker but a heart saver too!”

The orders keep coming. Jamil helps with the dinner shift.

Donuts and Coffee from Wawa.

A couple walks in with an obviously plastered black man carrying fishing poles. They offered to buy him a meal because he’s homeless and hungry. He won’t shut his mouth though about anything and everything. And nothing stops him from pulling out photos of his son and sharing stories about him. He takes it upon himself to rearrange the tables and chairs while he sings out loud to himself...“Baby! You are sugar! You are the syrup on my pancakes! You came from above!” My bosses don’t find much amusement about it like I do.

Off work. Back home. I permitted a last minute acoustic show at the house.

Hot and Sour Soup. Spring Rolls. Budweiser in a can.

JP, Rusty, and TC, a guy from Portland, bring guitars and put on a show. A limited crowd...maybe 13 people. Beautiful tunes presented to our ears. Amidst all the music playing Stephanie is suddenly stricken with intense nausea and fever most likely caused from the little bit of Spice her and Darren smoked earlier. Sarah and I tend to her as she wallows in bed sheets drenched in fruity red spew. It’s quite a tragic scene.

Her: “Is this what death feels like?”

At first I thought this would pass within the hour but nothing changes. She keeps asking for water and to go to the hospital. I didn’t think it was that serious. But better safe than sorry. After a few more throw up toilet trips I get her into the car and head to the emergency room. There. A doctor pumps her with an IV to flush out her system...

Sarah shows up. A few weeks ago we came to the conclusion our music, The Vaginasaurs, represents a new genre called Baby Punk because of the innocent garage sound. We’re constantly making jokes about it. And Stef has a realization as she lays there in the hospital bed...

“You guys! Now this is Baby Punk.”


I leave the hospital and let Sarah take over for moral support.

Back home.

Sleep sometime after 3 a.m.

[i] All images by me.

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