Tuesday August 28 2012


☼ ○ ▬

With Darren and Rachel in the backseat of a car – a few guys in the front that we sort of know. Driving down a long country road along the beach – escaping from something. It’s understood Rachel and Darren have been romantically and sexually involved. Rachel, out of the blue, confesses to having relations with somebody else that we know. Darren reacts angrily but maybe sarcastically too. I can’t tell.

Rachel: “I’m sorry, Darren.”

They lean in and exchange a lather of tongues as if everything is all right.

I chime in, “Darren gets really mad but he’s a rational guy. Don’t hurt him.”

▬ ○ ☼

Waking up around 1 p.m.

Instant Cinnamon Oatmeal. Peach. Orange Juice.

Cleaning up and organizing.

Grilled Cheese with Tomato and Hummus. Potato Chip Trio. Honey Oolong Tea.

Errands. Grocery store hopping.

While catching up on some writing my bedroom door opens suddenly. It’s Anthony...along with Rachel, Skippy, and Lauren Lowery (our old nanny).

Me: “Since when did my room become the living room?”

Anthony: “Since you left your door unlocked.”

For a while people hang out in here. Some leave. Skippy sparks an interest in my book collection. I let him borrow Life of Pi. I hear the sound of a familiar 90’s tune coming from downstairs.

Me: “Does Anthony ever not play The Wallflowers in a sitting?”

Skippy: “Oh that’s The Counting Crows.”

Me: “Oh shit. You’re right. Well, the same question can be used there.”


I pick up Aysena from her house and bring her back here. We had plans to watch a movie and spend the night together but first, a dinner party. She helps me prep vegetables for the Shrimp Sinigang dish I’m cooking. Sharing Raspberry Shock Top beers. There’s a crowd of people roaming around – marker and crayon art being drawn on the table. Rachel cooks a vegan stir-fry dish to go along with what I’m making.


I chose to wear this white sushi chef cloak. Jess Potter comments, “Robert, you look like that Seinfeld episode.”

Rachel bursts out in laughter, “Bahaha!”


Darren: “You know what I like? I like when I eat something and then the next day I really regret it.”

Me: “You like that huh?”

Darren: “Yeah like when I’m sitting on the toilet and really regret all those decisions that I made the night before.” 


Everyone at the table sharing the food and obnoxious conversation about whatever’s clever. Anthony thought it clever to put on a Paul Simon record. The food is exceptionally spicy for my taste but I seem alone in my experiences.


I migrate upstairs to my room. Aysena meets me inside and surprises me with, “I wanna go home.”

I’m confused, “What? What’s wrong?”

She repeats, “I wanna go home.”

Me: “I don’t understand. What’s going on?”

She just keeps repeating this sound, “m-m,” meaning she doesn’t want to say. I feel an uncomfortable pang shoot down my spine. Something has shifted in the air between us. She just stands there hiding behind her ominous head of black hair twirling the strands between her frail fingers. This isn’t some casual discrepancy. It’s a realization that she’s come to which has altered her perspective on anything between us surviving.

Then she mutters something that sounds like right much.

Me: “Huh? What? What did you just say?”

She repeats but it still sounds the same.

Me: “I don’t understand. Right much?” Then it becomes clear, “Ooooh. Right MATCH. You think we’re not right match?”

Her: “Mhm.”

I feel defeated. After some patient prying on my end I’m able to sit us down on the bed and get a better glimpse into what she’s feeling. She explains that it’s difficult to hang out with me. This is disquieting news and seems to have come out of nowhere. It’s completely opposite of the positive experiences we’ve had together. I know the language barrier has something to do with it but she adds another reason, “You are so different.”

Me: “We’re different? Yes of course.”

Her: “I can’t understand you sometimes.”


My first worry is that maybe her being here in this house with all the social chaos is a bit overwhelming...but that’s not it exactly.


Her: “I feel like it’s not my—how to say? Area. You’re so different...from my world. And it’s not easy to enter into your world.”

Me: “It’s not easy to enter into my world?”

Her: “Yes. And you do it so fast. I’m not sure that you are...mine. I want to know you first then your friends.”

Me: “Yes. You want to know me.”

Her: “Yes.”

Me: “You see friends differently?”

Her: “Mhm. If my friend were here I would introduce you when I’m sure that you’re good person. That’s it.”

I think maybe she places an importance on getting to know somebody one-on-one before getting to know their friends. It’s hard to understand but I definitely sense a cultural contrast when revealing significant others to friends. She feels that me introducing her to my friends is too soon? I don’t know.

Her: “It’s too soon and I’m not ready to be their friend.”

I try to explain that this is a unique household situation that I live in.

Her: “I don’t know how to behave myself.”

This whole moment is unsettling because I think I understand what she’s feeling but I don’t know what I can do to alleviate it. I can tell she’s exhausted.

“I’m tired,” she exclaims and just falls backwards at the foot of the bed. Silence. I run my hand through her black ocean of hair and caress her back while she drifts off to dreamland. Wow. I didn’t see all of that coming. I reflect at the computer.

I join some of the commotion downstairs and attempt to relieve my anxieties with a bowl of Cinnamon Toast Crunch. It’s calmed down at this point, just Jessa, Jordan, Calum, and Rachel at the card table. Rachel discovers one of the mini potatoes in the marker container she helped paint a few months ago. She turns to me and asks, “Robert, let’s plant a mini potato tree.”

Me: “I’m not feeling mystical, Rachel! I’m feeling angsty.”

Rachel: “Robert’s crotchety!”

To elaborate I draw a picture (see above photo). Rachel does too...


Aysena is all curled up under the sheets. Despite her anxiety about things she ended up sleeping here. I join her at 3:39 a.m.

[i] Marker art by me.
[ii] Marker art by me.

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