Wednesday January 23 2013

[i]

☼ ○ ▬

I’m a lonesome hermit living in one of those old conversion vans parked in the middle of a field. I have special skills at making elixirs. A good friend of mine sends me these Yakutian farm workers to do business with. They really like tomato sandwiches so I prepare a whole batch every time to appease them. One of the workers steps into the van, puts his arm around me, and encourages me to join him in a traditional Yakutian hop-dance. I don’t really understand how it works but I try to follow the quick movements.

▬ ○ ☼


Awakening at about 1:30 p.m.


Instant Oatmeal with Blueberries and Milk. Coffee with Honey and Milk.


Errands. Filing a claim at the post office for not delivering a package I sent to Russia back in October – getting my postage fee money back. Thrift store visit with Elliott. Trader Joe’s.


Egg Sandwich with Mayonnaise and Tomato. Rice Crackers. Mixed Fruit with Vanilla Greek Yogurt.

Watching Shotgun Stories (2007).


Researching.


Playing songs on guitar.


The temperature outside has hit the high 20’s. It’s freezing cold. I didn’t make time to run today before the clubhouse closed. I ask Leslie if I can use their little fitness room at her house.

...

Over there. Running about three miles.

...

In her pristine kitchen eating some dinner I brought over with me. Spicy Teriyaki Mixed Beans, Chard Greens, Green Beans, Tomatoes, and Quinoa. She offers a slice of Cornbread.

We engage in a discussion of various topics. How important it is for her to try and forge a friendship before she dates someone again. How smarter I feel I’ve gotten at reading people and figuring out how suitable they are to me. 

...

Up in her bedroom. Getting into a musical mood – taking turns playing songs on the Mac.
I take notice to her constant movement around the room. Restless. Sitting still isn’t easy.

Me: “You’re always looking for something. Or putting things away. Or pulling things out.”

Humorously she replies with some kind of sexual comment.

...

I’m trying to get a handle on this friendship between Leslie and I. I don’t fully understand how she thinks and her philosophy. So far though, amidst her storytelling, a common theme is honesty. She’s a fan of brutal honesty.





Back home.


Sleep 5 a.m.


[i] Image by me.

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