Sunday May 16 2010

[i]

11 a.m. I awaken to the sounds of my roommate and his girlfriend yelling at each other.

“You criticize me every fuckin day for the things I don’t do and never recognize the things I do do!”

“I do everything for you!”

I’ve never seen this side of their relationship. I sensed something like this might happen from the way I’ve observed their relationship.

Back to sleep.

DREAM: Playing tennis on a courtyard in the middle of some school. Instead of a clay or concrete ground, there is thick wet muddy grass making it difficult to play. I take front position and Art, my roommate, takes the back. Our opponent is Angel Berrios. As he serves the ball, I systematically miss and sometimes barely hit it. The head of my racket is too small and the rod is the neck of a guitar. I can see the fret board and the dots. Off to the side of the court is a huge cardboard box of rackets. I switch mine out for a weird pink one with a trapezoid shape. It’s too light and small. Again, I switch it out. This time, I finally get a preferable racket. Purple and blue – the head is big enough. Angel attempts to serve but eventually just kind of walks off the court and doesn’t seem interested in playing anymore. I’m dropping change out of my pocket and hitting the coins with my new racket. A dime falls into the grass. I make sure to keep my eye on it so I know where it falls. I retrieve it from the mud.

A lady walks by me, “Don’t worry! I’m gonna get your money.”

She wants to take a picture of me with some other people standing around. I’m not really interested but I smile and strike a pose with my purple blue racket and matching purple blue outfit.  

3:36 p.m. I wake up to the sounds of laughter from my roommate and his girlfriend. Seems like they’ve made up.

Breakfast: Hot Oat Bran Cereal with Cinnamon, Brown Sugar, Blueberries, and Milk. Orange Mango Juice. Zinc and Alfalfa.

The Love Police actually exist!

And productive and humorous megaphone madness.

The Dishes Decree: http://www.facebook.com/home.php#!/photo.php?pid=5882859&id=271092470309

Work at China Wok.

Lunch: Grilled Cheese with Tomato. Sweet Potato Chips. Green Tea.

Delivering an order to the nicest woman in the world on Vintage Court – a regular customer – in her late 60’s – orders at least once every weekend – invites me in as usual, making sure we make the correct transaction.

Me: “How’s my favorite customer?”

Woman: “How’s my favorite guy?”

Delivering an order on 10^th Street – walking through a white arch entrance surrounded with the rich sweet smells of honeysuckle.

Some thoughts: If you stay in a constant state of seeking reciprocation you will be in a constant state of disappointment.

Stretching. Exercising. Cool Hand Luke (1967).

Dinner: Black Beans and Rice with Indian Spices, Garlic, Peppers, and Onions. Green Beans. Garlic Naan Bread.

I go to the storage unit. Music.

Back at home, Chocolate Coffee and Blueberry Almond Dunkers.

Finishing Cool Hand Luke (1967).

“For the secret of man's being is not only to live but to have something to live for. Without a stable conception of the object of life, man would not consent to go on living, and would rather destroy himself than remain on earth, though he had bread in abundance.” - Fyodor Dostoyevsky

I love a hot shower.

Sleep around 7:20 a.m.

---

[i] Source unknown.

Saturday May 15 2010

[i]

DREAM: I barge out of my room after just waking up to make my usual breakfast, Hot Oat Bran Cereal. Before entering the kitchen, I see a big pile of cat liter on the floor. It looks like someone tried to lift it up and the bag broke. I notice on top of the stove, one of the spice jars has shattered, possibly the coriander jar – broken glass just sitting on the counter – the mound of coriander sitting on top of the stove still in a jar shape but with no jar. Giant dirty bowls sitting in the sink. Elliott is there the whole time – making jokes about the disarray. I’m complaining out loud to him and I get progressively irritated. I open the spice cabinet – spices are missing and toppled over each other. I get angry and tip over a few of them myself and yell. In my mind, I assume its Elaina’s fault. This is my roommate Kyle’s girlfriend. A bunch of people start walking in – apparently Show N Tell is happening tonight and the festivities are starting early. I think Felix wants to make pancakes. “Hey Ashley.” I say hi to Ashley V. I don’t recognize her at first because she looks like Brianna a little bit. With a grin on my face, “What are you doing?” She starts throwing some of her clothes in the dryer. “I’m drying my clothes,” as if this is a completely normal thing for her to do. An older lady is in the kitchen with me. She sees how flustered I am and starts helping by putting all the dishes in the dishwasher. I explain to her the dishwasher doesn’t work. All of sudden, a big rat crawls above the sink on the window. “This has never happened to me before. I don’t know what to do.” She reassures me that if I just keep looking at it and stand still, it will be okay. I pick up a stick to poke it and hopefully shoo it out of the house. But the rat seems interested in me – his big eyes look like a puppy’s. He acts harmless but I don’t want to be near him because I’m afraid of getting diseases. Every time I start poking him, he wants to get closer to me. I’m yelling at him. I notice my Dad walking in. The rat grows bigger and turns into a black dog without notice. I finally succeed in getting him out. 

3 p.m. I wake up having anxiety from my dream.

Breakfast: Hot Oat Bran Cereal with Cinnamon, Brown Sugar, Blueberries, and Milk. Orange Mango Juice. Zinc and Alfalfa.

Music.

I write a dishes decree for the house.

Lunch: Grilled Cheese with Tomato. Salt n Vinegar Chips. Green Tea.

Quick stop at Taylor’s Do-it Center – looking for an Allen wrench set. An older man with a permanently slouched back and a limping walk signals for me to follow him. At the display shelf, he shows me my options. “What’s the difference between these sets?” With his yellow notepad he writes down “METRIC” and points to the correct set, then, “AMERICAN”, pointing to the other one. I realize now, he is mute. I grab the American set and thank him.

Work at China Wok.

Delivering an order to the Memory Center off Old Donation Pkwy. Of the many times I’ve delivered there, this time I have the opportunity to see the inside – it looks like Disneyland or rather an airport with superimposed businesses like The Tavern, The Salon, The Kitchen, and even The Bank. Apparently, this gives the patients there the illusion of the real world.

The lady keeps repeating out loud, “I don’t got four cents!”

The total is $35.74. She hands me $35.70. Before arriving, I had already prepared myself for no tip. But I couldn’t even get the full payment. How ridiculous. With haste I go to leave. The lady follows me out so she can punch in the security code.

Lady: “Are yall family or something at China Wok?”

Her ghetto accent is slightly funny.

Me: “Well, I’m not Chinese.”

…

Lady: “You been drivin around in dis hot heat…hold on. I’m gonna get you your four cents.”

After retrieving money from her car, she hands me a dime. Sarcastically, I think to myself, how kind of you!

Daniel and I discuss ways to ensure getting tips from customers. Start off the transaction at the door with, “I risked my life for your dinner tonight.”

Waiting for orders at the restaurant. An Asian lady in her late 30’s wearing glasses and a pink salmon collared shirt walks in.

Lady: “So you’re the PR guy right?”

Me: “I guess…what’s PR?

Lady: “Public Relations! You’ve got the Chinese making the product and you deal with the people.”

I sit down and continue to observe this lady. She talks to Daniel about how impressed she is that “white” people work here. I’m fascinated by her social confidence and her happy spirit. She has this engaging presence. I watch her sit with her guy friend, husband, boyfriend, whatever he is. He seems quiet and focused on his meal. She’s probably high maintenance behind closed doors.

Towards the end of the shift, my Dad calls me out of the blue. We talk and catch up on each other’s lives.

Leaving work, I get a call from Sal’s Pizza from down the street. I forgot I had left my number for them in case they needed drivers. Sitting down with the manager there while she eats her pizza – she gives me a few days out of the week to work. A younger Middle Eastern lady with two little boys walks in with her mother.

Her: “You remind me of my brother.” 

Come to find out, her brother is the drummer of this band, The Sugar Report. Tokyo played with them a long time ago. 

Stretching, Yoga, Exercising.

Dinner: Penne Pasta with Sauce, Peppers, and Onions. Salad. Texas Garlic Toast.

Watching Altered States (1980). Why have I never seen this?

“You saved me. You redeemed me from the pit. I was in it, Emily. I was *in* that ultimate moment of terror that is the beginning of life. It is nothing. Simple, hideous nothing. The final truth of all things is that there is no final Truth. Truth is what's transitory. It's human life that is real. I don't want to frighten you, Emily, but what I'm trying to tell you is that moment of terror is a real and living horror, living and growing within me now, and the only thing that keeps it from devouring me is you.”

“We all live with it. That unbearable terror is what makes us such singular creatures. We hide from it, we succumb to it, mostly we defy it! We build fragile little structures to keep it out. We love, we raise families, we work, we make friends. We write poems...”

Miscellaneous cleaning and fixing.

Oreos and Soy Milk.

I go to the storage unit.

Music and organizing.

Sleep around 7 a.m.

---

[i] Fred Tomaselli.

Friday May 14 2010

[i]

DREAM: Holding a letter from Megan Stamper which is actually a giant scroll made out of thin white poster paper. I don’t want to read it right now so I use rope to construct a few knots and tie it up on this piece of wood that’s built into the ceiling of the computer room in the house. Moses, my black cat that lives with my mother, walks up and acts loving towards me. I lay down on a chair and he plops himself on my chest, my arms caressing him. “I’ve missed you Moses!” I feel close. I feel comfortable.  

3:20 p.m. I wake up.

Breakfast: Hot Oat Bran Cereal with Cinnamon, Brown Sugar, Blueberries, and Milk. Orange Mango Juice. Zinc and Alfalfa.

Songwriting.

Lunch: Grilled Cheese with Tomato. Salt n Vinegar Chips. Strawberry Yogurt. Green Tea.

Work at China Wok.

Talking with Daniel, the other driver, about the Crips and Bloods documentary I watched yesterday. We discuss the “what ifs” of America: What if slavery never happened and Africans were never brought over to the Americas? Our country’s culture has many roots stemmed from the oppression of black Americans. 

Delivering an order near English Court. Two cute little girls stop their Wii Bowling game and corral at the door. Holding their Wii controllers, “Thank you dude! Thank you dude!” They seem really amused by calling me “dude”.

Daniel and I compare the differences between restaurant servers and delivery drivers. People take for granted the risk and work delivery drivers have to deal with.  

Dinner: Leftover Chicken Alfredo and Broccoli. Snap Peas, Edamame Soybeans, Green Beans. Red Peach Tea.

Vanilla Milkshake at Doumar’s.

Seamonster and Adam Arcuragi at The Boot.

Sitting with friends. Listening to the sounds of alt-country on stage.

“Between you and me…I’ll be singing through my teeth…the words may be wrong…I’ll still sing every song.”

Chad is suspicious of the universe.

Aaron finds an opportunity to take off his shirt at the table.

Margot talking to Chad in the front seat of the car: “You are like Mr. Legal Everything!”

Pineapple.

Feeling a little bummed out.

An Egg and Garlic Naan Bread.

Watching a documentary called Lord, Save Us From Your Followers (2008).

Going through audio files on my digital recorder.

Strawberries.

Songwriting.

Chatting with Verity on Skype.

Sleep around 7 a.m.

---

[i] Photo by me.

Thursday May 13 2010

[i]

Around 3 p.m. I wake up.

Breakfast: Scrambled Eggs. Toast with Butter and Blackcurrant Jam. Orange Mango Juice. Zinc and Alfalfa.

Easy Rider Documentary.

I ride my bike to Fresh Market – getting lost in a trance waiting in line, watching you walk out the door, admiring your step and your exciting purple jacket – the cashier woman is analyzing me – oh ginger candy, sweet and tangy, enveloping my teeth.

Thrift Store – checking out at the register – the friend of a friend from Cox High School, he’s always working when I’m there and every time he gives me a discount for no reason – a skinny Asian man behind me waiting to check out his books including a complete encyclopedia on gnomes and a book called Beautiful Virginia.

Streching. Yoga.

Watching a documentary on the history of gangs, Crips and Bloods: Made in America (2008).

I get frustrated over an argument with somebody.

Lunch: Grilled Cheese with Tomato. Salt n Vinegar Chips. Green Tea.

Band practice at the storage unit with Chris and Chad.

Elliott enlightens me with some car crash videos from NASCAR while I eat dinner.

We continue entertaining ourselves with Youtube videos.

Dinner: Lemongrass Thai Noodles with Peppers and Onions. Edamame Soybeans. Steamed Broccoli, Green Beans, and Snap Peas. Garlic Naan Bread. Yuengling.

I finish watching Crips and Bloods: Made in America.

“Part of the mechanics of oppressive people is to pervert them to the extent that they become the instruments of their own oppression.”

Songwriting.

I finally use the Neti Pot successfully and my nostrils feel euphoric.

Fresh Pineapple. Cinnamon Toast Crunch.

More songwriting.

Shower.

Roller Karussell: the new sensation in Germany.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iRasoZMirRc&feature=player_embedded#!

Sleep around 7 a.m.

---

[i] Made in America movie poster.

Wednesday May 12 2010

[i]

DREAM: Walking around on the ocean floor. But everyone is pretending to be underwater so we can still breath. Something happens and we are all shot straight up and out of the ocean into the sky. We’re very high up flapping our arms to stay afloat but still falling and eventually we could hit the ground. I see a small flying device with an Indian chief sitting in it and some weird dinosaur-like bird holding it up. We all grab hold of the Indian. I place my hands on his shoulders while everybody else puts their hands elsewhere accidentally tickling him.   

3:47 p.m. I jump out of bed.

Breakfast: Hot Cream of Wheat with Cinnamon, Vanilla, Brown Sugar, and Milk. Orange Mango Juice. Zinc and Alfalfa.

I finish watching the PBS documentary What Are Dreams?

An Indian tribe in northern Canada called the Atikamekw practice daily dream interpretation every morning. They sit in a circle around a fire and share their dreams as the elderly use folklore to interpret.

“Only 20 percent of woman’s dreams about sex…involve their partners. But dreaming men are worse. Coupling faithfully just 1 out of 7 times. 33% of our dreams involve unhappy events. And while some dreams are outlandish, most are more a reflection of our waking concerns.”

Working on lyrics to songs.

Lunch: Tuna Salad Sandwich with Lettuce and Tomato. Homemade Creamy Tomato Soup. Baked Salt n Vinegar Chips. Green Tea.

It rains lightly outside. I hear the thunder crack and boom.

Enjoying Dennis Hopper’s film Easy Rider (1969).

“In this counterculture film, we have a spaced-out trio of Peter Fonda, Dennis Hopper, and a funny Jack Nicholson tooling down the highway, on motorcycles and stuff, en route from L.A. to Mardi Gras. As artistic expression during an angry era of war and social change, the film communicates a powerful philosophy, in lieu of a complex plot. Most scenes take place outdoors, in the American South and Southwest. Laszlo Kovacs' adroit cinematography, combined with an expansive soundtrack, hippie lingo, and cool clothes, convey the film's underlying message of individual freedom and nonconformity. The film is significant in that it was one of several successful 60's films made by individuals outside the traditional Hollywood studio structure. As such, Easy Rider broke new ground in film-making.”

More songwriting.

Listening to Arcade Fire and stretching.

Renee walks in.

We watch two Pilobolus dancers perform “Symbiosis”.

Yoga.

Dinner: Black Bean Tacos. Artichoke. Blueberry Almond Dunkers.

Finish watching Easy Rider.

“Billy: What the hell is wrong with freedom? That's what it's all about.
George Hanson: Oh, yeah, that's right. That's what's it's all about, all right. But talkin' about it and bein' it, that's two different things.”

 “Dennis Hopper and Peter Fonda did not write a full script for the movie and made most of it up as they went along. They didn't hire a crew but instead picked up hippies at communes across the country, and used friends and passersby to hold the cameras and were drunk and stoned most of the time.”

“If god did not exist it would be necessary to invent him.” – Voltaire

More songwriting at the storage unit.

Fresh Pineapple and a bowl of Cinnamon Toast Crunch.

Sleep around 7 a.m.

---

[i] Easy Ride movie poster.

Tuesday May 11 2010

[i]

DREAM: In the ocean not far from the shore – the water is deep – the water is blue green – floating in a circle with 4 or 5 other people including my mother and the actor, Mickey Rourke. We’re hanging onto these plastic clear tubes that are connected to each other. Underneath, Mickey’s machine is transforming/revving up. It’s supposed to be some kind of futuristic motorcycle. Words exchanged between my mother and I, “I’m still in love with you…” I swim over and take her in my arms to hold her up out of the water because she is struggling. The ocean begins to get choppy and waves are billowing up. I yell at Mickey Rourke, “How long does this damn thing take?!” referring to the machine. “I don’t know…20 minutes or so!” In the distance, we see a colossal wave coming our way. “We can’t wait any longer. We have to get on the beach!” Quickly, we make our way out of the water. Mickey and I start climbing a wall made of light brown carpet with crevices built into the sides for us to put our hands in. I’m hanging up about 20 feet and turn around to see how far the wave is. My mother and a little girl are just now getting onto the shore. I’m concerned the wave will hit them. But the wave gradually gets smaller and crashes right behind them – water rushing around their feet. Everybody is okay.   

2:22 p.m. I get out of bed.

Breakfast: Hot Oat Bran Cereal with Cinnamon, Brown Sugar, and Blueberries. Orange Mango Juice. Zinc and Alfafa.

My mother receives her mother’s day gift finally. (see above painting)

I fill dirt into the holes on the side of the house.

Stretching and Pandora Radio.

I watch part of a documentary on dreams over Lunch: Grilled Cheese with Tomato. Salt n Vinegar Chips with Avocado. Green Tea.

I create a blue guitar strap.

I finish lyrics for a song.

Apple.

Tennis with Art. A grey moth lingers in the middle of the court throughout the whole match.

Dinner with Margot at the house: Fettuccine Alfredo with Chicken. Broccoli. Garlic Toast. Chardonnay.

Paris, je t’aime (2006). Strawberries and Whipped Cream.

I experience a sudden state of melancholy thinking about the dread of losing someone close to me through death. I’m not sure what sparked these feelings. This quickly goes away.

She’s upset, sitting on the white sleeper couch in the dining room.  

♂: “What’s wrong with you?”

♀: “You don’t want to have a chocolate syrup party!”

…

♂: “You’re fragile. You’re more fragile than you appear.”

The contrast of the giggles and laughter in the attic with the tears and distress in the living room feels like a tender movie scene. The ups and downs of “twin high maintenance machines.”

I know it’s important to you as well as it is for me. But I can’t offer you that kind of security. What is it about you that I can’t resist? An addiction I can avoid a little easier from a distance but not from a microscopic view.

If n-♥ then ♂≠♀

Hot shower.

Painting glasses.

Sleep around 7:20 a.m.

---

[i] Acrylic Painting by me.

Monday May 10 2010

[i]

DREAM: On the beach – the ocean is calm – everyone is there – running into the waves – standing around in the water that’s up to our chests facing the shore. I see swirly colored rocks. I pick up two with blue and yellow colors – looks similar to those sandscape pictures in frames like a sand artist would make. I make it known to the others what I have found. Emily comments that she already found rocks like that before. Amanda Mentz is standing there emotionally distressed about something. She announces, “I’m gonna start drinking a lot of diet Dr Pepper now.” ☼☼☼☼☼ Walking carefully up a hilly and muddy road trying to get somewhere. I have to watch out for the random puddles. It’s hard to see because it is dark. Other people are walking carefully behind me. I see a few more paths open up in the woods. But it starts raining harder. I realize that it’s not a good idea to keep going so I turn around. I have my bike with me. A car stops. I try to hitch a ride but they don’t have room for my bike. I suggest holding onto the car as they drive.

2:10 p.m. I wake up.

Breakfast: Hot Cream of Wheat Cereal with Vanilla, Brown Sugar, and Milk. Orange Mango Juice. Zinc and Alfalfa.

Event planning.

Stretching to Mas Y Mas.

I go to Trader Joe’s.

Lunch: Grilled Cheese with Tomato. Salt N Vinegar Chips with Avocado. Green Tea.

Sniper 3 (2004).

I pick up some fill dirt a guy was giving away on craigslist so I can fill in the holes on the side of the house.

Apple.

Practice at the storage unit with Chris and Chad.

I deliver a mattress to a lady near North Hampton.

Banana.

A nice conversation with Renee.

And catching up with an old friend from tour, Morgan.

Dinner: Black Bean Tacos. Chips and Salsa.

Brianna and Ryan are watching The Pianist in the living room.

Back to the storage unit.

Working on songs for a long time.

Cocoa Coffee and Peanut Butter Toast.

Donnie Brasco (1997).

This is my 111^th entry.

Sleep around 6:30 a.m.

---

[i] Sandscape. Image source unknown.

Sunday May 9 2010

[i]

I wake up in the hotel room. 6:50 a.m.

Back to sleep in the van on the top bunk.

DREAM: A secret between a Mexican woman and I. A cop walks over to investigate. He doesn’t seem suspicious of anything until the woman starts choking him. I try to communicate to the woman this will not help anything and will only cause even more suspicion. ☼☼☼☼☼ Lying on a soft blue mattress, people around me causing it to float up in the air, higher, higher, and higher. I start to gain control of where it goes and ride it like a long board.

11:30 a.m. I wake up at Wawa.

Breakfast: Everything Bagel with Cream Cheese. Nantucket Orange Mango Juice.

Good talks with Zach and Jacob in the front of the van – the greatest moments on the road – being in a band is like being in a marriage, and your fans are sons and daughters – bringing closure. 

Stop at Sonic.

Lunch: Egg and Cheese Burrito. French Fries. Sweet Tea.

Referring to why Mae asked Pogge to play in the first place Jacob says, “We needed a conservative to balance out Zach.”

I call my mother. We talk about this yeast infection called Candida most people probably have from using too many antibiotics.

A few more hours left to go until we arrive home, and Zach has to pee. Pogge, in a flamboyant southern accent: “He pooped at the last place. He couldn’t pee at the same time?” Me, in a straight southern tone: “Brown and yeller. Can’t have one without the udder.”

Napping with my headphones on, music playing.

DREAM: A projection screen set up in front of my house. I hook up my iPod to play a video with that Joe Cocker song playing in the background, “What would you do if I sang out of tune? Would you stand up and walk out on me?” I start running like a pinwheel spins flailing my arms and legs, not going very fast, trying to get to the backyard where Phil is sleeping on a hammock.

I wake up and we’re entering the Chesapeake Bay Bridge Tunnel. An officer tells us to pull over to the side. She gives us a warning for our tags being expired and license plate not being displayed properly. Luckily she didn’t notice the trailer lights weren’t working.

We drive off in haste as a Sigur Ros song begins playing on the stereo, a perfect soundtrack for the scenic drive.

Grapes and Salt n Vinegar Chips.

I finally make it to China Wok for work 30 minutes late.

Dinner: Vegetable Lo Mein.

I go to Kmart for a Neti Pot to clean my sinuses.

I boil some water to make Green Tea with and breath in the soothing steam.

I attempt irrigating my nose with the Neti Pot but my right nostril is so clogged no amount of liquid will flow through it.

A bowl of Puffins Cereal with Honey.

Dumpster Dive at Trader Joe’s:

Eggs, Potatoes, Bell Peppers (Red, Yellow, and Orange), Apples, Oranges, Strawberries, Bananas, Avocados, Green Beans, Romaine Lettuce, and Chocolate Chip Cookies. 

[ii]

Hot shower.

Oolong Tea and Strawberries.

Netflix sucks.

Sleep around 5:30 a.m.

---

[i] The Bay Bridge Tunnel. Source unknown.

[ii] Image by me.

Saturday May 8 2010

[i]

In the tour van lying in the back on the top bunk. I wake up around 11:30 a.m. with an incredibly bloated bladder. We stop at a Royal Farms gas station. Inside, I have the most relieving pissing experience I’ve had in a while. It almost hurts.

Back to sleep.

Picking up Ben at his house near Philly, I wake up near 1:50 p.m.

A stop at Bruster’s Ice Cream. Jacob discovers a steep hill and decides whether or not there is enough time to ride it. “Well, you know Pogge’s going to take a while,” Ben says. Jacob invites me to come along. The sun is bright. The wind is strong. And the asphalt is smooth. A little bit of exhilaration does a body good on a long van ride.

Breakfast: Cliff Bar (Blueberry Crisp). Immune Defense.

I attempt this Chinese acupuncture technique to get rid of sinus congestion.

Reading The History of Love.

Lunch: Egg Salad Sandwich with Tomato. Salt n Vinegar Chips. Apple. Strawberry White Tea.

We arrive at Scranton University. Performing in a gymnasium. During one of our slow songs, we invite the girls and guys to line up on opposite sides. The girl will walk over and choose a prospective guy to dance with. I observe one girl in particular dancing with someone who is obviously a new acquaintance. I imagine their conversation: “…oh you’re in American History with my friend Jenna!” They sway side to side like two innocent kids in middle school. “What are you up to tonight?” Her blonde curls – magenta colored dress – big smile – totally swoon by her new cutie. After the song is over I see them exchange numbers. They may have never met if it wasn’t for the situation we created for them.

Post-show.

In the green room, I snack on Pita and Hummus, Grapes, and a Banana.

Throwing grapes in each other’s mouths.

Checking into the hotel.

I take a stroll up the street. A chilly wind blowing.

I take a seat in a restaurant called Farley’s.

Dinner: White Bean Chicken Chili. Ginger Ale.

Reading.

On the walk back to the hotel I run into someone dressed in an Elmo costume in front of a club.

Twix Bar. Chips and Salsa. Pita and Hummus. Chamomile Tea.

Event planning.

On the phone with a friend.

Musicplayer is my official new music project.

M&M’s.

Sleep around 3:30 a.m.

 

---

[i] Image by me.

Friday May 7 2010

[i]

DREAM: Riding a bike down some really steep streets at night. Phil and a few others follow. Eventually, I’m walking through yards of different business buildings – an intricate maze of fences. I remember seeing an over-sized container of cocoa powder down the road – it was big enough to sit inside. I come across a clothesline of sorts. I see 3 or 4 wooden poles spread out and in line with each other. Instead of a physical string or rope connecting all of them, I see a white blue fluorescent line of light. Other people are not supposed to be able to see it but I have the ability for some reason. A security alarm will go off if I touch it. So I carefully crawl underneath it. I think I see the container of cocoa powder but there are still too many fences to get through. I walk inside a building where some band lives. There are four triple bunk beds made out of wood – a conversation with one of the guys that lives there. Back out front, I become someone else, a chubby man in his 50’s wearing big round glasses and long hair. I have on a pair of Converse All-Stars. I’m standing right on my grave where I supposedly died almost 50 years ago. The grave is uncovered now and everybody can see my rotting decaying body. I try to prove to the guy next to me that that was me in the grave and I’m alive now. I even point out that the body is wearing the same Converses I am wearing. Then he believes me.  

1:50 p.m. I get out of bed after sitting in it for the past 20 minutes. Phlegm is creating a wheeze in the back of my throat.

Brianna is cleaning the bathtub.

Breakfast: Hot Cream of Wheat Cereal with Vanilla, Butter, Brown Sugar, and Milk. Orange Mango Juice. Zinc and Alfalfa.

I take my bike to Target and Kmart.

I make Creamy Tomato Soup from scratch for later.

Lunch: Grilled Cheese with Tomato. Salt n Vinegar Chips. Pear. Red Peach Tea.

Work at China Wok.

Delivering an $80 order of Chinese food, I grab the heavy box with both hands and carry it up to the house. A little boy in an orange shirt playing his Nintendo DS lets me in through a white gate and opens the front door for me. As soon as I am inside, I hear the most piercing sound of tiny dogs barking. The decibel level of these barks is higher than the sound of a snare drum being hit at it’s hardest. My hands are preoccupied holding the box, so I can’t protect my ears. I set the box down on the table. The lady tells me to wait in the kitchen where the table is being set for the whole family. “Times are hard,” she says as she leaves me with almost a $30 tip.

My taste buds seem to be inactive and the wheeze continues. Possible signs of acute bronchitis.

I watch a documentary called We Live in Public (2009) over Dinner: Lentil Vegetable Soup. Steamed Artichoke. Basmati Rice. Garlic Naan Bread.

To the bank. On the phone with Margot. Storage unit.

A little bit of Tapioca Pudding and Cinnamon Toast Crunch Cereal. Mango.

I stay awake until I have to meet the Mae guys at 7 a.m. to drive to Pennsylvania for a show.

---

[i] Image source unknown.

Thursday May 6 2010

[i]

DREAM: A mixture of mountains and a blanket infrastructure – towers and underground tunnels – crawling through holes and climbing, climbing, climbing – making bonds with the others that survived the apocalypse – a new start for humanity – danger everywhere – only the vigilant and strong survive now.

9:20 a.m. I wake up to my cell phone alarm.

Breakfast: Cliff Bar (Blueberry Crisp). Immune Defense.

Last day of the video shoot.

Stretching.

Waiting for Diego to punch in his blue screen shots.

Lunch: Egg Salad Sandwich with Tomato. Salt n Vinegar Chips. Kumquats. Green Tea.

I share the Kumquats with everyone.

Chidori tells me about the Kumquat trees that grow in her family’s yard in Japan. Because they grow so many, they even take baths in them.

A few different scenes for the dream sequence.

I stop by Big Lots for bread and tissues.

Margot informs me a co-worker from her restaurant was hit by a car and died last night.

I eat a Pear and some Tapioca Pudding.

I sell a mattress.

Sex and naps go nicely together.

Sal’s Pizza and Skinny Dip Frozen Yogurt with Margot.

Two slices of Pizza. Dr Pepper.

Strawberry Frozen Yogurt with many toppings.

Elliott and I conduct some equipment trades. I trade him the yellow music master, a Peavey amp, and $20 in return for a vintage guitar head and cab along with some cymbals.

I hang out at my storage unit for a few hours kinking out my guitar tone with different amps and pedals.

Saltine Crackers, a Pear, and Green White Tea with Lemon and Honey.

I finish watching the rest of Man on Wire (2008).

Refreshing hot shower.

Sleep around 5 a.m.

---

[i] Image by me.

Wednesday May 5 2010

[i]

Around 9:20 a.m. I wake up. I think I hear knocking on my window. It’s too early for my taste.

Breakfast: Cliff Bar (Blueberry Crisp). Immune Defense.

At JoAnna’s video shoot.

Performance shots.

Lunch: Egg Salad Sandwich with Tomato. Salt N Vinegar Chips. Apple. Strawberry White Tea.

A scene where we all jump into a boat that takes us into a dreamland sea.

I’m dreadfully tired.

My nose is spewing a rainstorm.

Back at home. I eat Green Onion Thai Noodles, Crackers, and a lot of Kumquats.

Band practice at the storage unit with Chad and Chris.

Sitting on the couch drinking a hot cup of Green Tea with Lemon and Honey.

Sick. Sick. Sick.

Finishing up a painting and listening to a few different stations on Pandora.

Dinner: Lentil Vegetable Soup. String Beans. Garlic Naan Bread.

Confessions of an American Girl (2002).

I clog up my nose with balled tissue.

I cook Tapioca Pudding.

Man on Wire (2008) – “A look at tightrope walker Philippe Petit's daring, but illegal, high-wire routine performed between New York City's World Trade Center's twin towers in 1974, what some consider, ‘the artistic crime of the century.’”

Sleep around 3 a.m.

---

[i] JoAnna’s video shoot. Image by me.

Tuesday May 4 2010

[i]

DREAM: Sitting in a makeshift theater watching a preview for an animated movie. At the end of the preview one of those cartoony white-gloved hands show up on the screen presenting the title for the movie, Bubb Bub Bee, as it expands from small to big to the sound of tooting horns. Then, the movie just starts. I’m surprised because I wasn’t expecting a kid’s movie. On the screen, appears a female character that looks similar to an Animaniac. We go into a dream sequence. There’s a tiny guy walking on her leg as she lies down. Everything starts to look real.

“I’m excited to see what’s going on inside!” she says.

The tiny guy then cuts a sliver on the front of her leg and we can see the insides. Multi-colored tentacle-looking veins are tangled everywhere – mostly neon colors like blue, orange, red, green, yellow, and pink. She reaches into the opening and picks up a few of the tentacle strands. Some of the people that I’m with cringe in disgust, as do I. I think to myself, if I were a kid, this would be really frightening for me. With a big painted smile on her face, the character continues to examine the innards of her leg, all the while talking to the audience and pointing out the different parts.   

9:40 a.m. I wake up a little before my alarm clock goes off the second time.

Breakfast: Cliff Bar (Blueberry Crisp). Hot Chocolate Coffee.

Goodbye Phil. Live well and enjoy the hay fields my beautiful friend.

At JoAnna’a video shoot.

Enjoying the warm sounds of the melodica.

Chatting with Chidori about the balance between her creative side and the entertainment side of music.

Lunch: Tuna Salad Sandwich with Tomato. Salt N Vinegar Chips. Red Peach Tea.

I stop by some thrift stores on the way home.

I have no energy.

I receive an amazing boost of oomph from a 20-minute power nap.

Creamy Tomato Soup with Garlic Toast. Fresh Mango.

Art and I go to the tennis courts by Lynnhaven Middle School only to discover all the courts are taken except for one. We get ready to play and find out a league has the court on reserve. The players kindly apologize and suggest trying First Colonial High School. As we make our way to leave out the gate, an annoyed older man spouts out to us, “Could you please get off my court?!” With an obvious sense of hostility, Art immediately defends us, “Are you serious? It is not your court!” It’s understandable to get a little irritated from people walking by interrupting your game but it doesn’t make sense to get impatient and say something like that. The frustrated man continues, “You could’ve at least waited until a point was set!” The truth was his opponent was holding the ball when we walked by. In Art’s Russian accent, “How else we supposed to leave?” We find out from a fellow player nearby that this is a common confrontation other people experience with this particular man. The contrast between the courteous and helpful tennis players with the impatient and hostile tennis players was interesting. We leave and attempt First Colonial where a tournament is being held. Finally, we try Cox High School and play an intense 2 hour and 20 minute game.

Dinner: Leftover Kidney Beans and Mushrooms with Rice. Artichoke with Garlic and Cucumber Yogurt Dip. Garlic Naan Bread. A mix of White and Chocolate Milk.

I watch Quiz Show (1994) from the few VHS tapes I got from the thrift store earlier today. 

Another lesson to prove the money always seems to survive.

“Charlie, speculation in our society has a way of becoming fact.”  

On the phone with Kenneth: “Hey Rob...the crazy chick next door, her boyfriend’s passed out in your backyard...he’s just chillin. I didn’t want to throw him out on the street or nutin.”

I eat a Kiwi, some Strawberries, and Mango.

Listening to a mix of African and Spanish guitar music on Pandora.

I sip on Oolong Tea – get out my acrylics and paint a gift.

Sleep around 3:30 a.m.

---

[i] Takashi Murakami and Louis Vuitton QR code.

Monday May 3 2010

[i]

12 p.m. I get out of bed. Not enough sleep.

Phil: “I’m leaving you. And there’s nothing you can do to stop me.”

Breakfast: Hot Cream of Wheat Cereal with Vanilla, Brown Sugar, and Milk. Orange Mango Juice. Zinc and Alfalfa.

I go to a warehouse near Witchduck Road to help out with the shooting of JoAnna’s music video. I play the melodica along with Josiah on the ukulele and two others. All of us pretend to be running away from a giant Frankenzilla JoAnna in the forest.

Phil lies down on the floor in my room. He’s concerned about his emotional health.

Lunch: Tuna Salad Sandwich with Lettuce and Tomato. Salt N Vinegar Chips with Avocado. Green Tea.

I’m an Ant Killer: I lay down some cotton balls mixed with Boric Acid and Syrup around the perimeter of the house.

I take my bike to Michael’s for some acrylic paint and then to Big Lot’s for a sink strainer.

Practice at the storage unit with Chris and Chad.

Farewell Dinner with Phil: Kidney Beans and Garlic Mushrooms with Rice. Steamed Artichoke with a dip consisting of Plain Yogurt, Garlic, Cucumber, Olive Oil, and Lemon Juice. Yuengling Beer.

Renee comes over and joins in on the feasting and camaraderie.

Renee returns my Sufjan Stevens CD!!!

Os Mutantes playing on Phil’s laptop.

Listening to Renee and Phil discuss iambic pentameter.

Phil: “I just like everything strong.”

Renee sings a Rufus Wainwright song.

Foosball with Art, Renee, and Ryan.

Sitting and deciphering the illegible writing on the BQE record.

Phil noodles on the guitar – “noodling = organic composing”

Me: “I just like to share things with people.”

www.wordnik.com - “Kipple”, “Sophora”, “Unactualized Toast”

Phil shuffles through boxes of old notebooks and writings of his, “It’s so weird to read about how your mind used to think and how it doesn’t think like that anymore.”

Phil explains how he hasn’t written as much since he hasn’t had his own room – being around people and hanging out all the time. “It’s nice not stressing out over that internal monologue.”

Sleep around 3:30 a.m.

---

[i] Image source unknown.

Sunday May 2 2010

[i]

DREAM: Two paths. Both lead to my parent’s old town house in Ocean Lakes. One is safe. The other is adventurous and risky. I’m with other people. Some choose the safe path. We choose the other. Brown monkeys start jumping around at the entrance. ☼☼☼☼☼ Playing a Mae show but performing as U2. All of us start walking up these stairs to get to the stage. We keep climbing higher and higher until we eventually reach an escalator. We start hearing airport employees yelling at us, “Do you have your tickets?!” as if we couldn’t enter the top level without plane tickets. I explain to an employee, “We’re supposed to be performing a U2 concert right now.” Immediately, he understands and directs me to a freight elevator. I try to wave down all the other guys who are still on the escalator. None of them are responding. I can hear sounds of feedback and guitars from the stage anticipating our arrival. All of sudden, they start the show without us. I hear a U2 song begin. It doesn’t make sense. We haven’t even gotten on stage yet. Who’s playing our instruments?

I wake up at 3:15 p.m.

Breakfast: Egg and Cheese Burrito. Phil’s Homemade Bread with Butter and Blackcurrant Jam. Orange Mango Juice. Zinc and Alfalfa.

Kmart.

Lunch: Toasted Peanut Butter Sandwich. Baked Lay’s. Green Tea.

A long shift at China Wok.

Textversation is now a word in my vocabulary.

Yoga. Exercise. Listening to an electronica album called East-Westercism.

Dinner: Black Bean Tacos with Homemade Salsa. Lemon-Lime Soda.

A successful dumpster dive at Trader Joe’s including Apples, Oranges, Kiwi, Pears, Strawberries, Peppers, Avocado, Artichoke, Onions, Kumquats, and Tomatoes. (see above photo)

I eat a bowl of Cinnamon Toast Crunch Cereal with two Kiwis.

Exploring with my long board near the beach. The night is perfect with its perfect spouts of wind – I hear it flowing amongst the dark trees. I smell honeysuckle, flowers, wet grass, and marsh. No cars on the roads. Nobody anywhere. Just me and my beautiful solitude. I find the perfect ride on Bay Colony.

I scarf down a bunch of Strawberries.

A wonderful hot shower.

Sleep around 6 a.m.

---

[i] Image by me.

Saturday May 1 2010

[i]

Around 3 p.m. I wake up. First day of Summer.

Breakfast: Hot Cream of Wheat Cereal with Vanilla, Brown Sugar, and Milk. Orange Mango Juice. Zinc and Alfalfa.

I talk with Kenneth about constructing a few bike trailers made out of shopping carts.

I take my long board around the neighborhood and wander about looking at houses for sale.

Lunch: Grilled Cheese with Tomato. Baked Salt N Vinegar Chips. Banana. Green Tea

Work at China Wok.

...

I juggle while waiting for orders.

...

Sitting at a red light on Birdneck Road, I overhear a conversation between two girls in a convertible next to me: “Yeah, I don’t get waxed anymore cause last time they made my eyebrows look fuckin’ stupid.”

Art Galleries all over Granby Street.

I perform a few songs at Café Latte with Skye Zentz.

I talk with my cousin, Deb.

Renee and Phil ride with me to The Boot from Granby Street.

Phil lies down on the tower of mattresses in the back of the van.

We stop at Captain D’s for food.

Dinner: Two Fish Tacos. Hush Puppies.

Long Division’s CD Release Show – over capacity – a social reunion of friends...it’s wonderful to see so many missed faces – juggling and flow in the streets while we wait to get in – Tyler deejays the rhythm of the night – we dance, we dance, we dance...we lose our inhibitions – the beat, the beat, the beat entraps and attracts – I need this...this movement – I feel magnetic – Everybody is sexy – I sense a pull from others – this is what it feels like to be free...to be complete with your environment...to be connected.

I notice I’ve been using the word “absolutely” quite frequently.

At home, I eat a bowl of Plain Yogurt with Mango, Honey, and Granola.

Relaxing.

Skype with Verity.

Sleep around 5:40 a.m.

---

[i] Head drawing on table at The Boot.

Friday April 30 2010

[i]

DREAM: At work in China Wok waiting for orders to be done so I can deliver them. There are five orders ready to go but I think there are only four ready. My boss fails to tell me about the fifth one. I grab all the bags and run to the van. I place all the orders in the back. Margot wants to drive. “Absolutely not!” I’m worried my boss will see her. She gets pouty about me not letting her drive. I take the wheel and put it in reverse. A cop car is coming by. I misjudge how close I am and almost hit him. “I’m so sick of cop cars!” Then, for some reason, I can’t get the van out of reverse gear and the van gradually rolls down a hill. The brakes aren’t working at all. “This is just great!” I start slamming as hard as I can on the brake pedal breaking some of the plastic attached to it. Other parts on the dashboard break as I keep hitting them out of anger. “Yeah, lets just break everything!” There’s nothing I can do because the slope we’re on isn’t leveling out. ☼☼☼☼☼ I’m with a big group of guys. We’re trying to set a car on fire. It’s the blue firebird my Mom used to drive a long time ago. We all have lighters and keep trying to light different objects on fire and throw them into the car. Nothing seems to work. Someone in authority walks by warning us, “Your efforts are useless because it can’t be done.” ☼☼☼☼☼ In the 1623 house. I’m in the kitchen doing something. Phil is on the far right edge of the red couch talking to me. Rocky is laying to the left of him while she uses Facebook chat on Phil’s laptop. The chat beep sounds off interrupting something Phil says to me. “Rocky, can you turn that down? I can’t hear Phil.” All of sudden, Rocky gets upset and starts yelling, going on about this and that. It doesn’t make sense. All I asked her to do was turn it down. Eventually, she wants to fight and gets up in my face. I try to keep my cool. She starts kissing me on my head and shoulders. All of a sudden, everything’s resolved. Josiah walks in. Apparently, he had been there the whole time. I feel a little uncomfortable because of what Rocky just did. ☼☼☼☼☼ Walking around in a backyard that’s supposed to be my Dad’s but looks just like my neighbor’s. There’s a lot of junk piled around. I assume it is Kenneth’s. I creep into the next yard over out of curiosity. I’m with Phil and we have a shopping cart full of stuff. Two girls approach us. I start talking to one of them. “That’s my Dad’s house. I used to live with him in North Carolina, like in the country...the boondocks.” I look back deep into their yard. I see a few tree houses built high in the treetops. “Yeah we used hang out in the woods making clubhouses and starting fires.” It’s windy outside. I watch as the trees sway to the right and left as if they were dancing to the rhythm of the wind.

3 p.m. I wake up.

I walk into the living room. Brianna and Phil are watching Drugstore Cowboy (1989).

Breakfast: Hot Cream of Wheat with Vanilla, Brown Sugar, and Milk. Orange Mango Juice. Zinc and Alfalfa.

Phil and I move some mattresses into the van to sell tomorrow.

Lunch: Grilled Cheese with Tomato. Salt N Vinegar Chips. Strawberry Yogurt. Green Tea.

Work at China Wok.

Dinner: Leftover Chicken and Rice with Fried Zucchini and Squash. PBR.

SHOW N TELL at the house.

French Toast and Milk.

Alex Bailey and I play each other in foosball. He wins the single ball game, and the double ball game. I win the triple ball game.

Just a lot of words…

Sometimes I feel I’m not meant to love anyone.

Goodnight around 7 a.m.

---

[i] Stowe Boyd.