Wednesday September 5 2012


☼ ○ ▬

With Cecily and Sandy (my boss and co-worker at China Wok), and an unfamiliar man. The man and I paddle out on a boat to gather lobsters. We return with containers full and hand them over to the women to cook. We have our own little square of a pond where we wade in the water like normal. It feels like its late into the morning and I’m anxious about the time. Innocent physical affection exchanged between Sandy and I.

▬ ○ ☼

Waking up around 1 p.m.

Peach. Orange Juice.

Tweaking things.

Kelley and Anthony are reading excerpts from Meditation by Marcus Aurelius in my room while I eat lunch and also some from the bible. They pretend it to be like a bible study and greet me, “Welcome Brother Smith. Thank you for joining us.”

Double Egg Sandwich with Tomato and Mayonnaise. Potato Chip Trio. Honey Green Tea.

The rest of the day is going to be spent with Aysena. I meet up at her house. We drop by Whiskey Rob’s house on a few errands, then drive out to the Salvation Army Thrift Store near Newtown Road.


While browsing the book section I’m obligated to eavesdrop on an older couple lounging on the couch in the center of this small room. The lady is highly focused on her book about flowers. The man, sounding a little irritated and impatient, demands, “Can we go?”

[One second pause]

Man: “Hellooo?” then questioning the volume of items they’re considering purchasing, “Where in the heck d’you find all this stuff?”

The woman responds with something vague, still engrossed in her book.

Man: “Nancy, we’re not buying any of this stuff. You don’t. I won’t.”

Nancy: “Look at this. Lily of the Valley. Periwinkle...”

Man: “I’ve got the encyclopedia at home.”

Nancy: “Does it have garden samples?”

Man: “No, Nancy. No.”

This is real funny to listen to. I try to hide my smile. Their conversation turns playful when the man blows his nose on a tissue and offers it to his wife, “Here.”

Nancy: “Ooooh. I don’t want that!”

Man: “Ha-ha-ha!”


Ays found some clothes: a buttoned up long-sleeved beach-themed shirt, a jean dress that makes her look like a farmer’s daughter, and along with a round-brimmed dress hat that only adds to the girly look.

We’re done here and head across the street to the other thrift store for more antique second hand goodies.


We decide to get sushi at Sakura off Newtown. We sit down at a table. Three Japanese men converse at the sushi bar. We place our orders and talk.

Shrimp Tempura. Spicy Salmon Roll with Avocado.  

Ays: “Sometimes when I’m walking in Moscow...I see couple walking...and I imagine them having sex. It’s strange.”

Me: “Yes, especially if it’s not attractive couple.”


I hand her the National Geographic magazine that I brought in. She looks at the glamorous image of a Polynesian women and confesses, “When I see beautiful people...I feel sad.”

Me: “Why? Because you feel you aren’t as beautiful?”

Ays: “Yes.”


As we’re exiting the restaurant she reacts to the realization of how far we’ve come relationally speaking.

“Who knew?” she declares.

Me: “Yeah I know. Who knew we’d be here together like this.”


We return to my house. In my bedroom. Examining some of the items we got from the thrift store. She likes to repeatedly spout recent English phrases she’s heard; it’s entertaining.

Ays: “Thank you James Robert Smith for pointing that out. I appreciate it. I wanna kiss you.”

Me: “Ha-ha-ha.”


Ays: “Do you think that you are sexy?”

Me: “Well, if you say I’m cute, I feel cute. If you say I am sexy then I feel sexy. What about you?”

She shakes her head, “m-m.”

Me: “But I think you’re sexy.”

For some reason she doesn’t like it when I admire her beautiful physique and say things like, “You’re beautiful” or “I think you’re pretty”. I don’t understand it. I think it can be chalked up to a self-conscious female image thing. It’s an issue of self-esteem and confidence.


A major sex session ensues. It’s been a while actually and the physical passion welled up inside us comes out like animals. Fox and black panther – biting – pressing – pumping – humping – ferocious – beauty. Afterwards, the music from my computer is still playing...

Ays trys to describe what she sees, “I feel like I’m in the desert and there is a woman with black clothes; she is Muslim. In Egypt. And she starts to dance. It’s erotic music.”


Eating Figs and tumbling around in the bed – lying next to each other. She makes a joke and starts to impersonate a koala, “I have tree; I am waiting for tree.”

Me: “You’re waiting for tree?”

Ays: “Yes.”

I lean into her arms and take my rightful place as her tree.

Me: “Mm.”

She starts to kiss me.

Me: “Wait, koalas don’t kiss trees.”

“YES!” she disagrees. “They kiss. He likes his tree and wants to kiss it.”

Me: “Heh-heh.”


Ays: “And have sex too!”

Me: “No they don’t have sex with trees.”

Ays: “This tree, yes!”

Me: “I don’t believe this.”

Ays: “Yes of course. You didn’t know about it?”


Discussing some metaphors and imagery that we feel when we’re making love. Aysena explains, “I felt like I’m in tropical forest. It’s all green. And we have sex. I hear sounds...sounds of the birds, animals, and mosquitoes, snakes. And we don’t care about it. We’re just having wild sex.”

I giggle and ask, “Is that what you’re gonna tell everybody in Moscow?”

Ays: “Yes. Primitive.”


Sharing Hoegaarden bottles and Strawberry Mochi Ice Cream.

Playing card games using the new deck I got at the thrift store (Virginia Slims Playing Cards, © Philip Morris Inc. 1985). A few rounds of Speed. Then Rummy. Then I’m introduced to a common card game in most post-Soviet states called подкидной (Podkidnoy, “throw-in”).

Ays falls asleep while I strum the guitar and sing songs quietly. I settle down and collect my thoughts.

Late night snack: Toasted Peanut Butter Sandwich with Coconut Water.

Sleep 3:30 a.m.

[i] All images by me.

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