Sunday April 17 2011



Waking up around 4 p.m.


Carmen and Josh are spring-cleaning the house.


Breakfast: Cream of Wheat with Brown Sugar and Milk.


Kevin and I pick up Anthony from the thrift store. We park in the driveway of the potential new house to rent that’s two doors down from us. Darren shows up—the four of us standing there waiting for the owner to meet with us and show the house. A guy in a golf cart pulls up. He asks, “Who’s the guy that I talked to on the phone?” Anthony butts in and introduces himself. The guy immediately recognizes some of us with disdain and says, “I know who you guys are,” and shakes his head and reverses away—signaling for us to leave. I can barely get a word before he dips out, “Wait, what’s the problem?” Apparently, we’ve developed a bad rap on this block and everybody hates us here. I know Kenneth had some issues with the guys that used to live here too, so maybe that’s why he shunned us so fast. Either way, this is complete bullshit. He didn’t even bother to talk with us or find out our story. Was not expecting that at all. It’s a shame because this would’ve been a perfect place to live.


Work at China Wok.

The phone rings at work—Rachel and her father are on the other line to order Chinese food. I talk to her dad briefly, which is strange because of my role as fake dad to Rachel.

Banana.


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

Darren: “Dude you are serious about your grilled cheeses!”

In the kitchen eating and listening to him rant about the fate of the middle class and how we’re all slaves to America. His little sister and a friend are here, along with a spread of the usual gang.

Elliott pops in.

Carmen’s excited about the mini-egg skillet and how perfect her over-medium egg turned out. [see above photo]

We all head to the basketball courts—getting rowdy—attempting to make shots sitting on the ground.


Peach Apricot Yogurt.


The kids are watching Fantastic Mr. Fox in the living room.

“Where you going , Robert?”

“Where I want to go.”


Visiting the queen at her place. I walk into the den to find Desperate Housewives on the TV.

Me: “Turn that off please. Will you turn that off please?”

She’s distressed about her busy day at work. It’s a nice time though—chatting while I stretch my body out and eat chocolates. Still in her work clothes (jeans and a Harpoon Larry’s T), she changes into something more comfortable. Nuzzling my face in her wondrous bosom. On the couch having sex. We both needed this.

She doesn’t get how I think she’s the most pretty or the most beautiful.

Her: “I’m sure there’s other people out there.”

Me: “No it’s true you’re so beautiful. If Catherine Zeta Jones was standing next you I would say you’re more beautiful.”


Anthony and James are giving me a hard time about my blog.

“How was your time with Margot? Oh, I guess I’ll just read about it tomorrow. [haha]”

“Somewhere between the grilled cheese and the blueberry donut…”


James is pretty drunk and full of spunk right now, dominating the vibe, dancing in the kitchen. He informs me of this theory his dad told him about how the trees themselves have an agenda to kill off the human race.

James: “Have you ever looked at the roots of a tree? There’s no grass!”

He mentions something about the acidity from the leaves preventing the grass from growing and so on. I continue listening. It’s a valid theory in my opinion from everything he’s telling me. His dad is a smart and intuitive man. It reminds me of the plot from M. Night’s The Happening [2008].


Dinner: Soybeans and Rice with Onions and Mixed Vegetables. Fresh Garlic Naan Bread.


Newspaper route.

Coast to Coast AM—the secrets of tabloid journalism.

Eating a Cake Donut and Milk from Wawa.

Arriving at my last stop, Rick’s Café, James and Anthony come running out of nowhere to greet me. Anthony is pretending to be drunk. As we reverse out of the parking lot one of the cop regulars is standing there at the checkout through the window smiling at us.


Back in the house, I discover random dog biscuits scattered throughout the house. Anthony’s explanation is Richie gettin’ live.


In my room.

Me: “Anthony, do you ever stop? Like the energizer bunny, do you ever lose energy?”

I invite Anthony to try the dream tincture I used to take a long time ago for vivid dream enhancement. Just one tablespoon. I warn him of the bad taste but assure him it works.

Anthony: “That is the most horrible thing I’ve ever put in my mouth.”


Sleep 7 a.m.

Saturday April 16 2011



DREAM: Hanging out in a café somewhere in Harrisonburg, Virginia. I watch Doug and someone else ride in a car outside. They drive right through the glass windows and into the café—glass and tables shatter. Smiles on their faces as if it was a joke. Nobody seems to be freaked out by what just happened. The owner of the place doesn’t have a blatant reaction but I can tell he’s annoyed. I stand up in the far end of the room and get everybody’s attention, “I have something to say!” I gesture my hands to quiet the crowd. “Please respect the buildings in this city and respect “the art”!”


Waking up around 4 p.m.


Breakfast: Cream of Wheat with Brown Sugar and Milk. Orange Juice.


Chatting with Anthony in my room about the possibility of moving two doors down into the house that just went up for rent. It seems to be the stronger plan. The financing to own the new house by the railroad tracks is becoming more and more complex for me. We’ll see what happens.


Work at China Wok. Bad weather brings good business.

The water falls from above—waiting at a stop light for at least two minutes—I start to feel the comfort that a storm like this can bring—it’s therapeutic—hypnotizing. I’m amazed at the effect the weather has on one’s mood and day.

The sky cracks open with a rainstorm out of proportion. It’s nice to have this pollen wash away but I’m getting soaked—in and out of the car—hoping the customer’s abode has covering over their front door.

Emily: “i am working late, but thought that the storm would set me free. looks like no such luck :(”

Me: “the truth will set you free.”

Emily: “yes but sometimes being free is kind of scary, isn’t it? that’s why we lie”

Delivering on order down by 59th street on Discovery Road. The driveway of the house is a long steep hill. Once I make it to the top, I find beautiful crushed rock steps that lead to a deep burgundy colored home with a uniquely decorated garden. The whole place is almost dream-like and feels familiar. I think I’ve been here in a dream once.

Finishing up the last three orders—slurping down some Vegetable Lo Mein while I drive—the brown sauce spilling on the side of my door without me knowing.


Strawberry Yogurt and Honey Green Tea.


We’ve decided to have a DC (designated cleaner) when we have people over at the house, kind of like a DD (designated driver). I don’t think this will last long.


The queen comes over bearing an Easter basket with a cute felt robot design on it full of chocolate goodies and the Fantastic Mr. Fox DVD. She’s thoroughly satisfied with the card she picked. [see above photo]

In my room, counting quarters as we recall the stormy day.

She’s getting antsy for some lovin…“Are you gonna be affectionate with me sometime soon?” I can’t help but giggle and smile at her cute demanding demeanor. Over the years, I’ve grown so fond of her and all the little characteristics that make her who she is.

I grab her hand and move us to the futon—massaging her neck and back.

She persists in touching me down there.

Me: “He’s tired.”

Her: “No he’s not. He wants to play.

She pulls it out—barely touching and watching it grow. Enamored with it she says, “I’ve never seen him grow like that. Look at him!” It’s comical that she always personifies my penis.


By myself, Anthony knocks on the door. I yell obnoxiously, “WHAT!” (because no one can ever hear me respond). Looking at the Easter basket, amazed at all the goodies in it he says, “You don’t need to look any further. Heaven’s right here where Margot is.”


Anthony’s reading a book with his feet dangling out of the attic. I’m eating a carrot.

Him: “Is that an everyday thing for you?”

Me: “Yeah you know, a carrot a day keeps the doctor away.”

Him: “A verse a day keeps the devil away.”


Newspaper route.

Drinking Iced Coffee with a Blueberry Donut from 7-11.

Coast to Coast AM—discussion with experts on the future of virtual reality.


Back home—taking on the role of designated cleaner. I can’t help myself—washing dishes—taking out the recycle bin, which has to be dumped everyday via all the bottles and cans of alcohol that are consumed. I love the steam created from the hot water and how it envelops my face—the act of renewing something that is dirty is a good feeling.


Eating an Egg Sandwich with Mayonnaise and Tomato along with some of these chocolate goodies.

Watching Once Upon a Time in America.


Sleep 8 a.m.

Friday April 15 2011



Just after 2:30 p.m. waking up.


Breakfast: English Muffin with Peanut Butter. Orange Juice. Zinc.


Bank—errands.


Driving the packed station wagon—onward to Fredericksburg with Chris and Kal.

Chris is on a roll coming up with porno titles to popular movies. For example, Rambo becomes Rambone.

A Beavis and Butthead impersonation ensues for a long while.

Eating a Tuna Salad Sandwich with Tomato. Salt n Vinegar Chips. Honey Green Tea. Blueberry Yogurt.


Arriving at The Chidester House where a guy named Janus and his parents have been putting on shows here for about 2 years. It’s more spacious than it seems from the outside—a cute bungalow in suburbia Fredericksburg. An out of tune piano—misc paintings hung on the walls—a vibrant and positive energy in this place. A plethora of food set up in the kitchen by the mom.

Having some Pasta and Garlic Bread with Ginger Ale.

Listening to the first band, Think Big, and reclining on a spinning chair signing a letter in the guestbook for the house.

Performing our Musicplayer set—no PA system except for a mike running through a guitar amp, which didn’t sound half bad from what I hear.

Afterwards, talking with Janus’s dad about how important places like these are for the music/art community.


On the drive home—we find a Sheetz gas station. There’s no question about stopping.

Kal: “I love Sheetz!”

Eating a Cake Donut with Milk and a Banana.

Getting into an invigorating guy talk with Kal and Chris on topics ranging from marriage to fundamentalism to sex to the evolution of language.

Sharing some of Coast to Coast AM.


Dropping the guys off at their cars.

I have to rush to the storage unit to unload all the gear—all the while on the phone with the queen chatting about this and that. The subject of marriage pops up and the ideal timeline of when we were to elope if we were to. I try to explain that we still need to date for a while before any decision of engagement is made. Two months ago there was a lot of messy confusion on her end.

Her: “But I want to be with you.”

Me: “Baby, I know. And I want to be with you, too. I don’t think we’re ready to make that kind of step yet.” She’s so cute and full of romantic loveliness. I don’t have many reasons to not marry this girl. But…in time.


Stopping by the house—the kids are getting live on the porch. I ram right into the chaos and into my room to grab the clipboard and coin bin. The kids are clamoring to me to say hello and get their two cents in. I seriously feel like a father with little kids of my own constantly trying to grab my attention. There’s a reason why I call my new housemates and the friends associated with this house “kids”. It’s always playtime. It’s always livetime. And for me? It’s always worktime. Who needs kids when I have these kids?


Newspaper route.

Snacking on Salt n Vinegar Chips and a mini bag of Sun Chips Carmen gave to me yesterday.

I’m rushing to get the route done while the open lines of Coast to Coast entertain and enlighten me. After this I will have driven almost 400 miles today. I’m exhausted.


Back home—This place is a pigsty!

Walking by the ladder I can hear the sounds of sex in the attic.

Eating an Egg and a Carrot.


Sleep 7:30 a.m.

Thursday April 14 2011



DREAM: I’m the sister of a female main character in a story/movie. A guy that looks like John McCain has been conducting these social experiments on my sister where he’s in control of her life but expands her horizons and decisions—at one point even saves her from dying in a car crash. He uses the concept of parallel realities and is able to exist in two at once. Nearing the final scene: just got off the plane—walking through the airport. I notice the John McCain character out of the corner of my eye sifting discreetly through the crowd. I rewind the scene in order to catch him. There he is! I pull him aside, “Hey. Can I just talk to you for a second?” He’s a quiet man, a little reluctant, but sits down with me. “I just want to say I know about your experiments.” I sense he’s a little uncomfortable but I think he knew this would happen, me talking to him like this. “What you did was important. You helped my sister...you changed one’s…well, you gave people choices.” With his head down he responds with a few yeah’s. He gets up from his seat and goes around the corner to retrieve something for me. As I’m standing there, tip toeing on a ledge, I start whimpering uncontrollably. For some reason the emotion of the moment is too much to handle. Behind me I notice a gerbil behind a plastic wall wearing a lion’s wig. He’s got big black eyes. Another kid standing nearby is talking about how dumb and silly gerbils are.


Just before 4 p.m. waking up.


Breakfast: Organic Strawberry Pop Tart. Orange Juice. Zinc, Vitamin D.


Anthony explains to me the concept of Aquatic Epiphanies in which conversation is shared between two or more persons while washing dishes. I know this quite well my friend.


Musicplayer practice.

Chris and Kal smoke cigarettes while I eat a Banana.

Chris is enjoying his new hipstamatic app for his iphone:


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


Tearing down the posters and nic nacs off the walls of my room.

Trying to clean this sidewalk chalk off the bathroom walls.

Trying this bottle of wheat beer that Kal gave to me called Son of a Peach—it tastes like a peach tree, delicious—all the kids are getting “live” in my room (http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=live). Discussing the possibility of moving in two doors down from here—Plan B.


Thanks Anthony for the Hershey’s Chocolate Bar.


Google work—trying to drown out the distractions around me.


In the kitchen—I slip into a Rachel hug, “Every time I see you I just want to pet you.”


Dinner: Polenta Provencale with Egg and Mixed Vegetables. Fresh Garlic Naan Bread.


There’s a couch surfer here from DC—she’s a journalist I hear—taking photos of the mayhem—Josh strumming guitar alongside Kevin wailing on the violin.


Newspaper route.

Coast to Coast AM—discussions with a UFO historian about newly released FBI documents that recount flying saucers in New Mexico.

The queen is worrying me because she was out later than usual—on the phone with her, showing signs of insecurity. She loves me though. I know that. I just have a hard time trusting her around other male beasts when she’s inebriated.


Eating a bowl of Frosted Shredded Wheat cereal.


Google work.


Sleep 7:20 a.m.

Wednesday April 13 2011



4:13 p.m. waking up.


Breakfast: Organic Strawberry Pop Tart. Orange Juice. Zinc, Vitamin D.


Business.

Google work.


I stop by Anthony’s thrift store for some boxes.


Work at China Wok—one order. Whoo!


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


Anthony: “Kenneth came into my work today. Seeing him in other places and different backdrops…it doesn’t look natural…it’s like he runs out of bounds.”


We find out two doors down from us is a big house for rent. This will be Plan B.


Ballin’ on the courts with Carmen, Anthony, and Devon.


Rachel: “Tell me what you’re about to do. I want a preview!”

Me: “Eating Blueberry Yogurt.”


Eating Blueberry Yogurt.

Listening to Anthony and Margot reminisce their middle school days.

Jordan walks in with those plastic brown coconut bra straps affixed over his shirt.


Just her and I now.

Margot: “Let’s put on a movie so we can not watch the movie!”


Enjoying romantic sexy time with the queen. I can’t help myself from grappling every part of her body—squeezing—feeling strange desires to bite out a chunk of her precious skin.

“I just want to eat you up…”

“You’re so beautiful….”

“I love you…”


Dinner: Sun Dried Tomato Chicken with Alfredo Tortellini and Broccoli.


Newspaper route.

Drinking Iced Coffee and a Blueberry Donut from 7-11.

Coast to Coast AM—the possibility of alien-human hybrids walking amongst us. Listening to some bizarre personal accounts from Whitely Strieber who suggests this could be true.


I find Rachel on the floor snuggled up next to Chance. Aw look at you two.

Reclining on the couch—snacking on Popcorn.

Jordan stumbles out of the attic to make a dentist appointment.

Quietly talking to Rachel, “Is something written on his face?”

Rachel: [giggle]

To Jordan I say, “Hey you have something on your face.”

He doesn’t seem to care. He’ll find out eventually that in big black marker it reads, FIX MY TEETH—a prank Josh thought was a cool thing to write on Jordan’s face when he was past out.


With Rachel watching this documentary, The Most Hated Family in America [2007], about the Christian group that professes God Hates Fags.

She’s mastering her Etch-A-Sketch skills while I finish up some Google work.


Settling down in my room next to the queen.

8 a.m.

Tuesday April 12 2011



DREAM: In a big gymnasium-like room, hovering and floating around. A big orange Bengal tiger is following me non-stop. Every time he tries to jump up to me I elevate a little higher. The tiger finds things in the room to boost himself up on and gain altitude. This forces me to fly even higher, uncomfortably higher.


Getting out of bed around 4:30 p.m.


Breakfast: Organic Strawberry Pop Tart. Orange Juice. Zinc.


Business.


Google work.


Lunch: Tuna Salad Sandwich with Tomato. Salt n Vinegar Chips. Honey Green Tea.

Watching Once Upon a Time in America [1984].


After researching, I’ve officially decided to never drink tap water again. The damage that fluoride can cause is detrimental to the health of my body and mind. The studies and research are overwhelming and difficult to sort through on what the healthiest and safest type of water to drink is. My conclusion? Spring water: no harmful chemicals like fluoride and chlorine, minerals still present, acts as a detox for the body, and better taste.


My Aunt Pansy and her husband take a look at the house with me. They’re expertise and experience in buying homes is helpful.


Poker and mayhem at the house—Roma, Art, James, Devon and Darren.

Kevin brings home pizza from his work—eating a slice and some rainbow sherbet via James.

Jamil is back from New York!


Google work.


Power napping.

The queen is stuck at work closing unexpectedly. She sends me a relationship request on Facebook. It’s weird to think that in the beginning of this whole thing her persistence had a magical effect on my heart and now, my persistence has had a magical effect on her heart. Is this just an individual struggle we face to avoid the uncomfortable nature of separation? Or is this true love? In time we’ll see. We’re both a lot to handle in our own ways. I told you I’d be waiting in our kingdom for you to return. It didn’t take long. I half-expected that. Because I know how connected you are to me.


The kids on the couch are eating those mini-oranges called kumquats. They discover it almost sounds like an insult to call someone a kumquat, which is a person that behaves to that of the taste of the fruit, which is sour to start then sweet later on. Of course as I walk by them I am labeled with this new term. Jokingly I continue to act bitter.

“Rob, we’re waiting for the turn around.”

“No! I’m a big kumquat. It takes a little longer to get to the sweet part.”


Dinner: Lentils and Mixed Vegetables with Fresh Garlic Naan Bread.


Newspaper route.

Coast to Coast AM.

Drinking Iced Coffee with a Blueberry Donut from 7-11.


Just as I’m pulling up into the driveway, Kelley and Anthony are playfully bickering like the married couple that they are. I roll the window down—Chance is barking—counting up the figures for the newspapers as Kelley persists to show me her bruises and red marks caused from Anthony.

“You just bit a fart out of me!”


More Google work.


Snacking on Goldfish and Chocolate.

Watching that movie.


Sleep 8 a.m.

Monday April 11 2011



Just before 2 p.m. Waking up to the sounds of hooting and hollering throughout the house. Damn kids!


Breakfast: Banana. Organic Strawberry Pop Tart. Orange Juice. Zinc, Vitamin D.


It’s that time of the year for that stupid yellow stuff to start enveloping everything outside—bring on the allergies.


Google work.


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


Anthony and I walk to the courts for some basketball. Talking about what it’s like to be attracted to someone who isn’t attracted to you. “We all experience that feeling at some point.” We challenge two white dudes to a two-on-two basketball game. We came back from 0-5 but ended up losing 10-7.


Back at the house—cooling down. He tells me how putting on a song gives him the same relief and relaxation as someone who smokes a cigarette for the same effect.


Margot joins us along with Chance, the dog, and we take night stroll to see the prospective house by the railroad tracks.

Smoking a clove as we walk—a glorious night breeze puffing over our faces. She doesn’t like the cupping style of holding hands but prefers the interlocking instead. Fair enough.


Chilling back home—there’s more people here—sipping on a cold can of Bud.

Darren’s a talker—he’s got a strong supportive voice and a plethora of ideas. I like this guy.

Continual talks about how we’re going to get the new house permeate the room—mortgages, loans, money. It’s all a bunch of complicated mush. I just want to get this over with.


Dinner: Sun Dried Tomato Chicken with Alfredo Tortellini and Broccoli.


Newspaper route.

Drinking Iced Coffee.

A powerful and informative Coast to Coast AM show tonight—listening to Alex Jones speak, the man behind http://www.infowars.com/ and http://prisonplanet.tv/. Throughout the course of the show, Jones’s phone line is strangely cut off twice right in the middle of controversial subjects—possible phone tapping.

Learning about Genetically Modified Food (GMO) designed to reduce fertility, and fluoride, which is found in most tap water and contains radioactive isotopes, also designed to reduce fertility and decrease sperm count. Population reduction is the hidden agenda here. It’s frightening. But how else are we supposed to stamp down on over population? At least we’re not regulating how many babies a family can have like the Chinese do with their One Child Policy. Maybe that’s not a bad idea. In the bigger picture of things this all makes sense. America was built upon freedom and complete autonomy. Can you imagine having a One Child Policy here? It would never work. The government knows that and has found other ways to stunt population growth without us knowing. In my opinion, I think it’s smart. I believe in the free flow of information but not everybody is ready to hear the truth. We’re just not.


Settling down.

Sleep 7:30 a.m.

Sunday April 10 2011



Waking up at 5:30 p.m.


Breakfast: English Muffin with Peanut Butter. Orange Juice. Zinc.


Work at China Wok—a lot of people ordering from Shore Drive—too far.


Lunch: Grilled Cheese with Tomato.


Google work.


Margot wants to go to Wal-Mart for Easter stuff. She gets so excited about things. Browsing through the $5 DVD bin. I find Super Mario Bros. [1993]. She’s been bugging me about ordering that on Netflix for a while. I don’t know why she wants to see that movie. It’s so bad but I guess that’s why it’s so good. I slip the movie underneath my jacket—discreetly making the purchase without her seeing. Walking out to the car, “You just have no clue do you?” In the car, “Here you go.” Her eyes light up but no overly excited scream like I expected.

We arrive back home just in time as the beat kids just got off the China bus from New York. They have stories—Anthony and Kelley getting married, escorts, and being drunk in public are just the few things on the list.

In my room—counting quarters while Margot and I have warm talks about our relationship, where it’s come from, where it is, and where it’s going. She mentions that she forgives me for all the things in the past. I make it clear what that means. “Now obviously I don’t expect you to forget everything. People confuse forgiveness with forgetting. You’re never going to forget. The key is not holding it against the person—not using the person’s wrongs as ammo.”


Dinner: Lentils and Rice with Mixed Vegetables. Fresh Garlic Naan Bread.


Anthony insists on joining me on the paper route.

This dude is “live” so I knew things would be “live” if he came along.

Discussing technology and going against the flow and the Google Generation (always having easy access to information).

Anthony: “Yeah. What are you doing with that time?”

Me: “I think the danger in a Google Generation is we lose our thinking power. We lose our researching power. You find out anything in 5 minutes. There’s something about that physical interaction between two humans, the transaction of information that’s more convincing.”

Anthony: “It’s more rewarding.”

Me: “Technology is supposed to make our lives more convenient but really it’s made it more complex and more stressful.”


Anthony: “When you have 24 hours in a day to fill you really take advantage of it, when there’s nothing else to do but be yourself—how to enjoy where you are.”


Coast to Coast on the radio.


Me: “I love turning on Coast to Coast when I don’t know what they’re talking about. Sometimes it takes 30 minutes.”


Lightly training Anthony as we go along—he helps me load the boxes.

Me: “Sometimes I compete with myself at each stop…..Okay, I’m only shaving like 5 seconds if I go quicker here but if every stop I do the same I can save like 10 minutes or so…”

Anthony: “I think you delight in figures, Robert.”

Me: “Dude, ever since I’ve been doing this job—figures—numbers—efficiency is key!”

Anthony: “Yeah you’re all about that.”


7-11 stop—eating a Blueberry Donut with Milk.


Anthony: “The other day I was thinking, what must it feel like to walk out of a bank after robbing it successfully? Like, after months of planning, what kind of satisfaction must there be?”


Recalling a time when a lady, annoyed by a car parked somewhere inconvenient, was outside the house asking, “Who’s car is that?” Kenneth, standing there on the porch sarcastically shouts out, “Rumpelstiltskin!” For some reason Anthony can’t get over how random and funny that was.

Anthony: “[haha] Like, why did he say that? Oh, Kenneth.”


Back home. I get on the computer for a little bit. I feel overwhelmingly tired all of a sudden, almost like narcolepsy. I can’t type. I can’t fight it. I plop down right on the futon mattress and crash at around 7 a.m.

Saturday April 9 2011



Waking up at 5:30 p.m.


Breakfast: Organic Strawberry Pop Tart. Orange Juice. Zinc, Vitamin D.


Work at China Wok—I deliver one order and the boss asks me to go home—slow, slow, slow.


Google Work.


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

Watching Boyz N the Hood [1991].


Prepping to move—organizing stuff into boxes.


Eating a Banana and an Apricot Fruit Strip.


Counting quarters.


My baby’s here now. Getting into a tickling match—her sweet laugh bouncing off the walls.

Her period is starting and she doesn’t necessarily like sex during this time. But somehow I persuade her. “Really, it’s not that bad.”

After a trip from the bathroom she shuts the door and undresses, “Okay, I’m naked!”

Man, I love this girl. She satisfies me.

“Every time I see a beautiful girl in a movie I think of you. I don’t need imagination from a movie. I look at the screen and think, I’ve already got that.


Dinner: Lentils and Rice with Mixed Vegetables and Fresh Garlic Naan Bread.

Lounging on the bed—sharing music while I eat.


Newspaper route.

Blueberry Donut from 7-11 and Iced Coffee from home.

Coast to Coast—http://www.aftertherapturepetcare.com/


Taking the car to the Doug, the mechanic that installed my hydrogen generator, so he can install the amp meter and tweak a few things.


Snacking on Popcorn and Goldfish.


Going for a jog/walk around the neighborhood—the sun has just risen creating that special luminescent morning glow on everything it touches. Admiring all the unique houses and fantasizing about having my own. I stop by the prospective house on Southern Boulevard that I hope to obtain by the end of the month. Look at this place. It has so much potential. Continuing the run—meditating and praying—using some of the telementation techniques I learned about some time ago—focusing and feeling with my entire being on getting that house—imagining the sale, the move-in, the people. The complex financial situation is the only thing in my way. Despite, I say to myself, I’m gonna make this happen. I’m getting this house. At the corner of Louisa and Indiana two black dogs pretend to be security guards, roaming free in the streets. The one barks ferociously at me but as soon as I approach and he realizes I’m not a threat, he switches to play mode.


Joining my baby in bed 9 a.m.

Friday April 8 2011



Waking up just before 6 p.m.


Breakfast: Organic Strawberry Pop Tart. Orange Juice. Zinc.


Business—researching more of my options here with the house—talking to my aunt.


Google work.


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

Margot walks in to change from her work clothes into a black dress—she was planning on going to this party in Portsmouth. She’s a little upset that I’m not going with her—I have things to take care of and figure out—I need the time.

Me: “I’m sorry for being a downer. I love you though.”

She changes back into her work clothes after she decides she’ll just be going home, which starts to sound more appealing to her as she thinks about making popcorn and watching a movie. I make her chill out with me for a while instead—things are sweeter. With only her black tights and a t-shirt on, she sprawls out on the floor. Look at you—so beautiful. I join her down there.

Looking at the bulge in my purple pajama pants she says, “Oh, he’s ready to go. It doesn’t take much.”

Me: “Yeah all I have to do is look at you.”

I can’t resist a little lovemaking.


Art visits me—talking with him about his living situation and his plans.

Then, with my dad on the phone—keeping him updated on what’s going on.


Recording scratch guitar and vocal tracks at the storage unit.


Dinner: Lentils and Rice with Mixed Vegetables. Baby Broccoli. Fresh Garlic Bread.

Watching Revenge [1990].


Google work.


Back to the unit for recording.


Stretching—crunches.


Eating a bowl of Cherrios with Brown Sugar, Strawberries, and Bananas.

Watching the movie.


Talking to my mom on the phone—explaining the complex bind I’m in with moving out and then trying to buy a house.


Sleep 10 a.m.

Thursday April 7 2011



DREAM: In North Carolina at my dad’s old place in the middle of the woods. Its late evening and I’m hanging out on the front porch with a few friends. One of them looks just like Trey, a kid I used to play with around these parts, except he’s much older now and in punk rock attire. But it really isn’t him—I make that decision in my head. All of a sudden I see someone approaching in the front yard. We all go to greet him. It’s Trey. “Heeeey! What’s up man? It sure has been a while!” I reach out my hand for some dap. He discreetly gives me a small net bag with what’s understood as drugs in it. “Oh, you got some rock huh?” The rest of my friends saunter off next to the hilly bridge nearby. I open up the net bag to find these small foam “rocks”, but actually look like purple earplugs. I tear off a piece with my teeth and discover a bitter strong taste to it, similar to eating raw garlic. Hoo Hoo! It sounds like someone is imitating an owl. I sense a stranger among us. Everybody is looking for them. I walk up the dirt driveway and up the hill as the others follow behind me. It starts to rain dramatically.


Waking up around 5 p.m.


Breakfast: Blueberry Muffin Oatmeal. Orange Juice. Zinc, Vitamin D.


Musicplayer practice.

Taking a break outside. The guys smoke while I eat a Banana—discussing why the sky is blue and color theory. I mention how pink has a tranquilizing effect and why it’s a stereotypical girl’s color.

Kal: “Girls paint the walls to their room pink to match the color of their vagina.”


Eating Black Cherry Yogurt, an Apricot Fruit Strip, and Chocolate Filled Cookies—drinking Honey Green Tea.


Google work.


The queen’s cooking dinner at her place—she’s got on a new spring dress that emphasizes the exotic brown color of her skin.

Sharing Chicken and Wild Rice with Asparagus along with Chocolate Chip Cookies and DaVinci White Wine.

Watching Hayao Miyazaki’s My Neighbor Totoro [1988]. His stories/movies are so imaginative.

After the movie, I escort her into the laundry room—recalling a time ago when we had sex in this room—ah, yes, and then we re-enact it. There’s something special about this time. Her response to me is filled with such joy and exhilaration. Relocating to the couch—the DVD menu screen of Totoro’s classical cartoonish music is the soundtrack to our steamy sex scene. She’s on top now—and this beautiful telescopic view is so arousing—a perfect moment of surrender to each other (love). There’s no insecurity—we belong to one another and that’s the wonder of it.


Back home. Power napping.


Newspaper route.

Drinking Iced Coffee with Brown Sugar and Milk, snacking on Goldfish.

Listening to Coast to Coast AM—“Ancient wisdom teaches that spirit projects itself into successive levels of consciousness to form the totality of reality.”


Google work.


Eating a Peanut Butter Sandwich and a Carrot. Dark Chocolate Peanut Butter Cups. Gosh. Peanut butter and chocolate!


More Google work.


Business.


Meeting with a local mortgage broker.


Sleep 10 a.m.

Wednesday April 6 2011



Waking up at 4:30 p.m.


Calling banks and important people of the like—looking at my mortgage loan options.


Breakfast: English Muffin with Peanut Butter. Orange Juice. Zinc, Vitamin D.


Work at China Wok.


Text from the queen:

“:) I feel so retarded and selfish that I want to see you everyday. I just can’t seem to get enough of you.”

Me: “This is what I’ve been fighting for and it worked.”


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

Researching how to file taxes as an independent contractor.

The Parking Lot Movie [2010].


Basketball with the boyz—playing a game of knockout.

Anthony’s holding the ball—in a spastic mood as usual, “Hey Rob! Ask me how many cute girls came into the thrift store today?”

Me: “How many?”

Anthony: “Four.”


Eating Grapes and Blueberry Yogurt.


Researching.


Napping.


Newspaper route.

Snacking on Goldfish.

Coast to Coast AM—sharing out of body experiences and astral travel.


Dinner: Minestrone Soup with Fresh Garlic Bread. Chocolate-filled Cookies.

Watching Empire [2002].


Cleaning up—doing dishes.


It’s just been such a dull day—still feeling on edge about the house situation.


Playing some piano at the storage unit.

Bank stuff.


Sleep 10 a.m.

Tuesday April 5 2011



Waking up just before 4 p.m.


Breakfast: Cherrios with Brown Sugar.


Finding a NOTICE TO VACATE letter sitting on the kitchen counter. WHOO…This is a shock. But I feel like all the events dealing with Kenneth have just cumulated and our neighbors hate us. I kind of half expected this, but not this soon. There’s no specific reason on this thing as to why.


Meeting with a realtor—looking at a house down the street on Southern Boulevard that I’ve been eyeing for quite a while. It has a big beautiful garage in the backyard. It’s ironic that I had already scheduled to see this house last week without knowing about the vacate notice that was to come this afternoon.

Don’t worry. The 1623 kingdom is not dying on my watch. We can only expand or die at this point. I choose to expand.


Running errands.


Talking to the mom—then talking to the dad—getting advice about buying a home and looking at my options.

“I’m stepping into a world I know nothing about and I’ve got to do it quick.”


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

Feeling a little overwhelmed with adult shit.

Watching We Don’t Live Here Anymore [2004].


James drives Margot, Art, Roma, and I to Becca’s place.

Making Blueberry Muffins—I eat four of them along with a slice of Pizza and some Milk.

Poker—Margot plays for the first time with us. She wins. Beginner’s luck.

I watch Becca gradually eat away at her slice of pizza, starting at a crust corner rather than the tip of it.

Me: “I’ve never seen anyone eat pizza like that.”


Back home. Anthony, Kevin, and other regulars that have been over here the past three days are all hanging out. The word has spread already about the eviction. Darren and Skippy give me some advice on the correct steps to take.

Carmen shows us her homemade planetarium up in the attic using glow in the dark planets and stars—she affixed them in proportionate distance, even placing Pluto further away from the pack.


Margot’s in my room.

Me: “I’m just stressed. I don’t know what to do.”

Her: “Baby, I want to make you feel better.”

She keeps hinting at something. I’m standing there like a scared little boy, making no moves other than accepting her embrace.

Her: “I’m getting naked!”

Quite some time had passed since we had sex last. And there’s no better time than now.


Newspaper route.

Snacking on Goldfish, Ginger Chews, and a Banana.

I hate not feeling like I have a home. It’s an unsettling situation and I don’t think I’ll be able to focus on anything else until I get this new house.


Eating an Egg with Garlic Bread and a Salad.

I’ve been eating a lot of food lately. I feel it in my stomach, like it’s bloated. I’ve got to watch this. Warm weather exercising is approaching.


Counting quarters.


Business.


Sleep 8:45 a.m.

Monday April 4 2011



Waking up just before 5 p.m.


Breakfast: Blueberry Muffin Oatmeal. Orange Juice. Zinc, Vitamin D.


It’s hot out—windows opened in the house—the first days of spring are here, or maybe we’ll skip to summer instead.

Kevin’s all dressed up in his Papa John’s uniform, ready to go to work. Sharing delivery stories with him—pointing out the areas in Virginia Beach that don’t tip.


On the way to Chicho’s Pizza at the beach to do a gig with Mike Gombas. I point out to Anthony The White Castle hotel where Phil and I gathered tons of mattresses and resold them to another hotel.

Doing a 45-minute set of covers and originals—The Shins, Weezer, Pixies, Musicplayer.

Eating a few amazing slices of Pizza with a Budweiser.

Margot sees a picture of herself as the background image on my phone and says with a big smile, “You love me.”

Anthony hand writes a note on a piece of napkin asking if he can join me in my mattress endeavors. This kid is just full of energy. He never stops—quick-mouthed, witty, and humorous.


Anthony is jittery and is without a doubt ready to play—he’s got the basketball in his hands—jetting left and right.

Margot: “He reminds me of a spastic dog that’s incessantly jumping up in the air as you hold the ball from him.”

Eating some Strawberry Yogurt.

We corral the people in the house to join us at the courts down the street. Anthony and I duke it out with Darren and Kelley. Chance, the Lassie dog, gets in on the action, jumping up and down attempting to nom the basketball. The wind is strong and overwhelming, throwing off most of my shots.

Me: “Anthony, you sound just like the voice of Michael J. Fox doing Chance in Homeward Bound!”


I feel exhausted from all of that running around—but that was good for me.


Lounging in my room with the queen. She’s still getting over a sickness but shows a glowing affection for me.

She keeps asking, “Are you a butt man or a boob man?”

I can’t give her an answer, “Why do you keep asking me that? I like both.”


Business and scheduling.


I decide to clean the bathroom thoroughly minus the tub, in watermelon dress uniform of course via Rachel—and caulk up the cracks to prevent ants from entering the premises—Anthony gives me a hand and provides conversation, inquiring into my church past.


1623 is alive again like it was last summer—different people, different year—daily late night gatherings where the ideas and laughter flow like melting ice cream.

Carmen draws a really cool picture of a girl and offers the rest of us to determine a caption for her.

Eating a Banana, a Carrot, and a Crab Cake Dustin brought home from his mom.

Jurassic Park VHS tape playing on TV—“Dino DNA!”


Newspaper route.

Drinking Iced Coffee with Brown Sugar and Milk.


Eating Salmon and Rice with a Salad.


Cleaning and organizing the kitchen.


Dark Chocolate Peanut Butter Cups—the temperature of the house causes them to be a little melty, mmm.


Random rainfall at 7 a.m.


Taking a shower while it’s raining is almost redundant.


Watching We Don’t Live Here Anymore [2004].


Sleep 8:30 a.m.

Sunday April 3 2011



DREAM: In the cafeteria of my old high school, Ocean Lakes. I’m leaning up against the trashcan scraping off one of the trays with a fork—it’s exceptionally dirty with spaghetti mess. Concerned about it getting on my pants because my body is right up against the can. I finish and return the tray to one of the cafeteria ladies. My hands are dirty. I find some sort of a keg with a knob you twist in order to get soapy water to pour out. I wash my hands but can’t seem to twist the knob to turn the water off. There’s air being pressured out of it causing sort of a squealing sound. I inform the ladies in the kitchen that it’s broken and walk on. It’s time to go. I ask Margot to help me grab all the bags on the table. As I’m retrieving them, across the table Joanne Truitt is talking to me. She says something that rhymes with “I’m not dumb” and I point out how clever that is. Gabriel Truitt is standing nearby. He places a five-dollar bill on the table for Joanne. Not sure why.


Waking just after 4:30 p.m.


Breakfast: English Muffin with Peanut Butter. Orange Juice. Zinc.


Work at China Wok.


Just got off work. As soon as I pull up near the house to park on the street, a bearded bum-looking dude whom I remember from a Show N Tell a while back confronts me and claims the neighbor across the street hired him to block off the street and get our cars out of there.

Me: “Really? Who are you?”

Him: “I’m David.”

He shakes my hand.

Me: “David, the street belongs to the city. We can park here. Tell me how I’m supposed to park in my driveway right now!”

He goes on a drunken rant about this and that. I’m a little irritated by this guy because, 1, I just got home, and 2, this is bullshit, and 3, he’s drunk. None of it makes any sense. As if there wasn’t already enough pressure coming from other sources.

Me: “Look man, I’m going inside my house now.”

I waltz into the house—people hanging out on the couch and such—I’m yelling, “What is going on?! This place is about to explode!”


Our neighbors hate us because of all of Kenneth’s junk in the yard and permanent presence. As well, our parked cars on the street seem to be a nuisance to everyone even though the street isn’t their property.


Lunch: Tuna Salad Sandwich with Tomato. Salt n Vinegar Chips. Honey Green Tea.


Google work.


Dark Chocolate Peanut Butter Cups.


The queen is sick—and I haven’t legitimately seen her in a few days. I go visit at her place. We greet each other with a long warm hug—she won’t let go.

Stretching—she pulls out her old yearbooks. When I was in sixth grade she was in first grade. Whoa. That’s funny to think about. And here we are.

Her: “So are you my boyfriend?”

We’ve spent a lot of time together the past month since the Valentine’s Day disaster—or the Dark Ages of Rejection as I like to call it. Everything has changed so much now, mainly because of the persistence in exclaiming my true love towards her. She recognized my sincerity and has responded with a resounding sound of acceptance and reciprocation. And here we are. She wants security and so do I.

I explain to her that forgiveness and trust is crucial if we’re going to get back into anything. Sometimes she doesn’t want to admit it but she holds a lot of grudges and resentment against me. And now, I also do the same in a way. But this in particular has caused a lot of bullshit and damage.

Me: “You know I want to be with you……Would you want to be in a relationship with someone who still holds a grudge against you? We have to make a clean slate. Consider this an ultimatum. I’m not dating you until you forgive me. I have to do the same and it has to be verbal. Speaking it out loud is where it begins. So just think about that.”


Dinner: Udon Noodles with Mixed Vegetables.

Rachel bestowed the house with a monk figurine and a watermelon dress earlier today. I decide to be festive and wear the dress while I eat dinner and watch the drama unfold around me.


Kenneth has really lost it and I finally have the opportunity to see it unleash on myself. He’s really lost his wit and lets confrontational situations get the best of him—no logic—in his head everybody else is to blame for his misery. I’m sick of it. We get into an interesting squabble after our next-door neighbor raises Cain outside because of the racket Kenneth is making outside at 2 in the morning.


Newspaper route.

Eating two Cinnamon Sugar Donuts and Coffee from 7-11.


Google work.


Practicing songs at the storage unit.


Popcorn and Chocolate.

Watching The Parking Lot Movie [2010].


Sleep 9:30 a.m.

Saturday April 2 2011



DREAM: I’ve just walked into a Starbucks to conduct a price audit. All the employees are dressed in thick wooden outfits, almost tree-like. Zoom into a close-up of Rachel standing there with a serious yet playful smile on her face. I can see Mayan glyphs and characters chiseled into the planks of her wooden outfit. All the other friends I was with came in only to get a cup of water and walk out. I feel obligated to buy a coffee drink but don’t. Someone who is supposed to be my father in this story starts a squabble with me. It’s a serious confrontation. I don’t even know what it’s about but we threaten each other in such a way it could mean death to either one of us.


Waking up around 4:30 p.m.


Rachel texted me: “Half the sky was purple and half was gray, you slept through the perfect storm. I’m surprised Kenneth didn’t begin to build an ark! He’s going to start rounding us up 2 by 2.” Oh Rachel. I love the way you think. What’s funny about this is there is a boat in the front yard. Maybe he really tried.


Breakfast: English Muffin with Peanut Butter. Orange Juice. Zinc, Vitamin D.


The queen left a pink Hello Kitty note on my car—it’s soaked from the rain. I peel if off. It reads,

“I LOVE you so much so much!

You’re so cute.

Be mine 4evah.

Ok?

[heart]

Margot

XOXO”

There’s a pleasant attachment to each other, one that’s not unhealthy, at least not that I’m aware of. And it’s comforting to know someone misses you as much as you miss them. Achieving that kind of interconnectedness where you both experience the same level of longing is a wonderful feeling.


Work at China Wok—a fruitful shift for sure.

Rachel: “Working for the Chinese food master of all woks? Who could make you drive around when the sky’s so upset?”


Anthony claims its “Boys Night In” as opposed to a “Girls Night Out”. He writes me a memo with three ideas for a sitcom where him and I have an opportunity to get acquainted. [see above photo]


I discover a clear Ziploc bag of dog shit wrapped in a string hanging on the door knob to my room.

Me: “Kenneth, you weirdo!”

Kenneth: “Yeah, and it’s fresh out of the backyard.”

I think originally he had it on Kyle’s door as punishment for all the poop his dog leaves in the backyard.


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

Finishing Red Road [2008].


Google work.


Mild impromtu house party. Stretching out in the living room—Anthony and Kevin join me. A girl beats me in a push-up contest—I only get up to 17.

Having a slice of Pizza.


Counting quarters in my room—Erin walks in to chat about life and things and friends and sex. Her behavior and naïve sounding voice can be deceiving to others I think. She’s more self-aware and observant than she seems. Most people are when you really sit down and talk with them.

Erin: “You’ve always intrigued me….You and Margot have always interested me. You two could be in the bathroom arguing and I want to just sit there and listen. You two are very different—she’s like really there and you’re like introspective.”

Me: “We’re an opposites attract that works…if we want it to.”


Anthony: “Did you think to yourself back in like 12th grade, Hmm, I want to have a boarding house 5 or 6 years from now.” I’m starting to enjoy this Anthony character around the house. He’s a good fellow with an explosive sarcastic wit—a good listener too.


Making dinner in the kitchen: Baked Tilapia with Onions, Jasmine Rice, and Broccoli.

Sharing some of the fish with Erin, her stepsister, and a guy who invites to make me Thai food one night.


Newspaper route.

Coast to Coast AM—a man claims to have been visited by mermaids in Florida. They told him the world is going to be covered in water and only a small percentage of mankind will survive. Then they told him to go back to Kentucky where he’s from, start up a Deli and call it “Jesus of Nazareth”. I love Coast to Coast.


Back home, Richie is talking to Kenneth in the kitchen. I fix a bowl of cereal: Cherrios with Strawberries and Brown Sugar. Richie wants to discuss the after-life and other related religious topics. I mention the concept of balance in life and how important that is. He gets excited about that, “Yes! Right on.”

Referring to all the mayhem that goes on at 1623 Richie asks, “Rob, I don’t know how you do it. How do you deal with all this?”

Me: “I don’t. It’s alive on it’s own.”


More Google work.


I love the feeling of a hot shower—that chlorine-free water sifting through the pores of my skin—it’s therapeutic.


Sleep 8:30 a.m.

Friday April 1 2011



4:30 p.m. getting out of bed.


Breakfast: Orange Juice. Banana.


Loading up the music gear—meeting James, Kal, and Chris outside of Becca’s place to carpool.

Driving to Williamsburg in the super packed station wagon.

Kal gives us the whole shebang on how he’s engaged now. Congratulations, Kal!


Arriving at the quaint white house that is The Meridian Coffeehouse.

Eating a Tuna Salad Sandwich with Salt n Vinegar Chips and Honey Green Tea.

The boys are hungry—we find a Chinese place around the corner.

Back at the venue. The Late Virginia Summers are mashing out explosive instrumental jewels. I plop down on the porch swing out front—it’s cold enough to be shivering. Irene asks to join me on the swing. Nora and a guy named John sit nearby. John mentions a new nickname somebody gave him earlier today, “JK-47”. Nora tells me she’s been playing one of our songs on a school radio station. “Really? We don’t even have recordings yet.” Apparently she snagged the live track I posted a while ago from a Winston’s show. “Oh okay. I guess that’s cool.”

Before we start our set I decide to not wear any earplugs. Good and bad idea. Chris’s cymbals at one point create sound caves around my ears. Like last night though, I’m uber excited to be playing—feeling loose. Even before we play I received a few comments about how they couldn’t wait for us to play. Our performance felt seamless too—one of our better shows for sure. The kids here in W-burg have a genuine enthusiasm for music. It shows in their dance.

Afterwards, we get invited to a party at a little green house over on Lafayette.

Having a drink of something green in black buckets. I think it’s a vodka punch.

Some people are playing Kings in the kitchen. I observe James have at it.

I recall being at this house a few years ago after a Mae/Tokyo show. Margot was there but we didn’t know each other that well. I remember her wearing something really blue. She cornered me and kissed me on the cheek. Wow. Such a long time ago.


Trekking back home in the super packed station wagon. We’re all on a roll telling stories and talking about our first experiences with masturbation (boy talk).

Dropping the dudes off.


On the phone with the queen—she’s got strep throat unfortunately—unloading the music gear at the storage unit.

As soon as I pull up into the driveway of my house my window is tapped on by Erin Gilroy, “I want to be the first to give you a hug.” I signal that I’m on the phone. Immediately after, Kevin is trying to get my attention. Welcome home, Robert.


Dinner: Pizza Al Pollo Asado with a Carrot.


As I’m leaving for work, Erin and Josh are perched on a boat out in the front yard.

“I’m just trying to figure out why this boat is here!” Kenneth.


Newspaper route.

Eating a Blueberry Donut and Milk from 7-11.

Coast to Coast AM—open lines.


Back home. This place is a pigsty. Cleaning up—washing dishes. Erin is trying to sleep on the couch. She’ rustling around, “I tried to listen to classical music while I fell asleep but it’s not working.” I offer her the extra bed in my room because Kenneth and I will be trafficking through the house.


Google work.


Popcorn and Chocolate.

Watching Red Road [2006].


More Google work.


Sleep 8:30 a.m.

Thursday March 31 2011



My alarm goes off at 4:30 p.m. I texted Margot last night to come drag me out of bed at this time but she’s not here. She shows up ten minutes later.

Going to the bank together.


In the kitchen eating Breakfast: Sesame Bagel with Butter and Blackberry Jam. Orange Juice. Zinc, Vitamin D.

She’s off to work.

Her: “I love you forever.”

Me: “Wow. That’s big.”


Finally finding some Google work—doing that for a half hour.


Practicing with the band at the storage unit.

Quick stop back at the house—sharing food with Chris. Eating one of the frozen Pizza Al Pollo Asado that Josh and the kids dumpster dove the other day, which happened to be like two or three boxes full of these goodies. Apparently, there was a recall because Trader Joe’s failed to mention there was wheat in the ingredients. Now our house is stocked with Pizza Al Pollo Asados, which are quite delicious.


Musicplayer show at Winston’s Café with The Late Virginia Summers and Goodwill Falcon.

Speaking into the microphone, “I’d like to dedicate this set to the queen.”

I notice Margot chatting with John Flowers in the back, “Hey Margot! Listen! This song’s for you.”

Starting off with a new song called “Sexy Pain” that seems to go well.

During our performance I feel wonderfully excited to be playing. Kal’s bass amp craps out early in the set making a dumb crackle sound. And he already had it looked at too. But whatever. He plugs into the extra amp I brought and we continue on like good indie rock soldiers.

Rushing to get back. Unloading all the music gear into the unit, then heading to work.


Newspaper route.

Snacking hardcore on Mixed Nuts, Salt n Vinegar Chips, and Chocolate.

Coast to Coast AM—hearing a definitive eye witness story of a reoccurring UFO in their backyard.


Draining and cleaning out the hydrogen generator on my car—supposed to do this after 2500 miles. Now I should be noticing some MPG increase.


Eating a Salad (Butter Lettuce, Carrots, Grape Tomatoes, Olive Oil and Vinegar) and Fresh Garlic Bread.

Watching Red Road [2006].


Business.


Sleep 9:30 a.m.