Saturday February 9 2013

[i]

Getting out of bed at 11:11 a.m.

Pummelo and an Orange.

All day shift at China Wok.

It’s slow as shit.

Sweet & Spicy Pecans. Honey Green Tea.

Hanging out at the house catching up on writing, then back to work after my boss calls.

Goldfish Crackers. Banana.

Today’s magic number is 3. Almost every order is $3 or $3 with some change.

Delivering an order to the Hampton Inn. I jump into the elevator. I hear a female voice from around the corner, “Hold that!” I press the door open button. A fairly attractive red-haired shoeless girl wearing a burgundy dress steps in. “Thanks! Five please.”

Me: “No problem.”

She sees me holding the bag and asks, “Chinese food?”

Me: “Yeeeeah.”

She mentions how she ate the best Chinese food she ever had in her life somewhere the other day. She steps off.

Me: “Alright. See ya later.”

I proceed to the sixth floor. Transaction with customer. Receiving a measly one dollar and change tip. Back on the elevator. It stops on floor five. There she is again.

Me: “It’s you again!”

Her: “Yeah I thought I’d see you again.”

She goes on to tell me about how she got hired to promote this whiskey brand and that she was retrieving a bottle of it to show someone downstairs at the bar. The brand name has something to do with the word evil.

Her: “Everyone tells me I’m evil. All gingers are evil.”

Me: “Not all gingers. I know a few and they’re just funny.”

Her: “Well I’m not really evil. It’s everyone else that makes me this way.”

I smile and say, “Yeah that’s usually the case.”

Finally off work and back home.

Hot and Sour Soup with Crunchy Noodles, Broccoli, and a PBR.

Watching Session 9 (2001).

Fortune cookie says, “The truth is always bearable when told with compassion.”

Croissant. Pineapple.

Sleep 3:30 a.m.

---

[i] Nico Krijno.

Friday February 8 2013

[i]

Waking up around 2 p.m.

Strawberry Toaster Pastries.

Going through old blog entries compiling the Best Of.

Sweet & Spicy Pecans.

It’s not too cold out, maybe 50 degrees. I put on my running shoes and jog around the track field at Lynnhaven Middle School.

James is here watching Ninja Turtle cartoons. I told him what I’ve been doing with the blog stuff.

James: “So it’s gonna be like Robert’s Blog’s Chicken Soup for the Soul.”

Egg Sandwich with Mayonnaise and Tomato. Pineapple. Honey Green Tea. 

More compiling. It’s strange reading some of these 3-year-old entries.

We have a food angel who brings the house a nice spread at least once a week, sometimes twice a week. He’s just a lone volunteer that collects almost expired food the local grocery stores throw out. Either way it’s been nice saving a few bucks every month. This guy’s a blessing.

Teriyaki Chicken with Peppers, Onions, Spinach, and Rice.

Watching Session 9 (2001).

At Rick’s Café with Darren and James. It’s after 2 a.m. and the diner is slam-packed. 80% of these people are inebriated.

I order a Decaf with a Biscuit.

...

All three us can relate to being in dire need of some womanly tender loving care, but mostly Darren just enlightens us on his agenda with any remotely attractive face in the room. He mentions how he cried earlier today after reading this thing on Reddit about some 68-year-old woman...her husband died but before he passed away had ordered roses in advance to be sent to her every Valentine’s Day with a note saying My Love For You Is Eternal.

Me: “Sometimes I forget you [Darren] have emotions inside of you.”

...

After a while a dispute breaks out between two bro’s. Territorial trash talk mumbo jumbo. It’s immature and idiotic.

... 

We had to have the “Rick’s-perience” as James so eloquently puts it.

Sleep around 4:30 a.m.

---

[i] Computer Code. Screenshot by me.

Thursday February 7 2013

[i]

☼ ○ ▬

James and I are browsing through photos on www.ffffound.com. One picture in particular strikes us as humorous: an image of a swan sticking his beak in between a beautiful busty woman’s legs. It’s supposed to be a GIF but the action sequence is slow on purpose. The woman turns her head with a gasp in the second movement, then turns completely around and we can see she’s half naked. Maybe it’s supposed to be a reference to the Greek mythological story, Leda and the Swan. At this point I realize that James and I have been sitting in a basketball gymnasium. We hear commotion across the court. Our Russian friends are up to something in the hallway. They keep appearing in the doorway with smiles on their faces.  

▬ ○ ☼

Waking up around 1:30 p.m.

Strawberry Toaster Pastries. Orange Juice.

Sifting through blog entries, compiling a Best Of.

Errands: Post office. Thrift store. Trader Joe’s.

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

Watching Suicide Kings (1997).

Leslie comes over. It’s always good to spend time with her. Our conversations are exciting and humorous. Relaying stories from the past week. She pulls out my small collection of comic books out and we entertain ourselves with the old advertisements. Browsing through all my t-shirts on hangers in the closet she comments, “All of this is hilarious.” She finds the red one with a googly-eyed snail sewn on it.

Me: “Yeah I thought you’d like that one. You wanna borrow it?”

Leslie: “Maybe.”

Darren walks in after getting off a China Wok shift. He sums up some of his experiences including a girl customer that wowed him, “But dude, okay. 1270 Sir George Circle...”

Me: “Okay, yeah?”

Darren: “Probably one of the most beautiful girls I’ve ever seen. And...”

Me: “[Heh-heh-heh] And?”

Darren: “Well she was wearing a wedding ring so I couldn’t say anything to her.”

Leslie: “You could’ve said something!”

Darren: “Yeah, Hi. I hope your gigantic Rottweiler that belongs to your probably massive husband doesn’t overhear me say ‘I’d love to put it in you!’”

[Ha-ha-ha]

Leslie: “Well maybe you shouldn’t have said that but you could’ve said something to the effect of, Wow! You’re really beautiful.”

Me: “Yeah you could be innocent about compliments.”

Darren: “Yeah. Whatever.”  

Vegetarian Chili with a hefty Salad and a Croissant. 

Finishing Suicide Kings (1997).

Chatting with Becca over the phone. Catching up on comings and goings in Blacksburg. James and I are planning to visit her very soon.

Dark Chocolate Peanut Butter Cups. Milk.

Sleep 5 a.m.

---

[i] The Swan. Photographs of Old America (Circa 1932).

Wednesday February 6 2013

[i]

☼ ○ ▬

I’m visiting Margot in a dorm that she just moved into. It’s understood she enrolled in some college. It’s also understood that I’m somewhat famous. After a while the paparazzi invades our room and tries to do interviews with us. The click and flash of the cameras and all the commotion is startling to say the least. I reprimand the whole group, “Alright! Everyone, outside!” While holding out my arms and trying to encourage everyone to leave I brush across this mysterious Indian boy wearing a blue knitted sweater. He touches my hand and immediately my whole body tenses up as if electricity just shot through me. In my head he whispers something profound that I can’t put into words, something along the lines of, “You’ll know what is to come.” I let go and look at him in shock. He instructs me to fall down on the floor, I guess so I can hear it again but in a more dramatic fashion. I fall down and he clasps my hand again telling me the same thing. I arise from consciousness and notice Margot left the room. I run out into the mall-like building. There’re lots of people roaming about. I catch her walking down the stairs with some new guy friend of hers, a blonde-haired douche-y looking dude. I run down the stairs. They just sat down on a bench. I plop myself down next to Margot with an overly haughty attitude. Margot seems a little irritated but tries to casually play me off like an old friend.

Me: “Um. We dated for three years. I think you could at least give me more respect than that. I’m more than just a goob to you.”

The blondie guy says, “I can respect that.”

Just in case he was taken aback by my presence, and to be polite, I assure him, “Don’t worry. We’re not seeing each other anymore.”

▬ ○ ☼

Waking up around 1:30 p.m.

Cinnamon Oatmeal with Brown Sugar and Milk. Oranges. Orange Juice.

Venting conversation with Leslie over the phone, but mostly on her part. Just recently she was dealing with some unhealthy ex-drama.

And I don’t think you’re overly nostalgic. It’s just fine. I like that about you.

Grilled Cheese with Hummus and Tomato. Potato Chip Trio. Lemon Water.

Watching BBC’s The Human Planet.

Meeting Josiah at the storage unit to practice the BAMM BAMM songs for tonight’s show. We receive unfortunate news that Josh, the drummer, is stuck at work in Richmond. There’s hope that he could make it in time.

Josiah rides with me. We stop at the house real quick. I cook up a quick Spaghetti meal for us to share then trek out to The Shaq. We arrive just in time to watch an indie-emo band from Michigan called Tiger Tiger. Downing a few Miller High Life’s. It’s a conservative crowd. Little Foot, Rusty and Daniel’s rock band, perform next. Josiah still hasn’t heard any word from Josh so it looks like we’ll be drummer-less. Wesley offers to back us up with a tom and a snare. We go on but it soon falters. It turns into a haphazard jam. Josiah hollers bullshit rock jeers into the microphone. We all flow but it doesn’t impress the crowd. I watch as it dwindles. If only Josh would have shown up. But we made the best of it.   

Back home. I’ve got a major headache. I just received two emails from two different people. The minor juxtaposition of them is killing me. The first one I open up to read is from Aysena. She’s still in Yakutsk with her family. We’ve been limited to communication through email. After describing her time spent there she takes on a judgmental and upset tone complaining about the lack of content in my emails, “your messages are so short and have not so much meaning.” It’s a little uncalled for. I think she’s just feeling empty and it’s leading her to lash out. But it does cause me to reflect a little on this situation. I do miss her but my feelings right now aren’t very strong. It’s hard to nurture any feelings for her when we’re so far apart and have no physical interaction. It’s not how a relationship should live. So everything is very uncertain. She probably feels the same way.

The other email is from Leslie. It’s a thoughtful apologetic sort of letter. The fact of the matter is that she disappears in and out of contact making it difficult to cultivate a steady friendship. She has a valid reason for it but she felt the need to convey some things.

...

“You are a super awesome person; you are one heck of an incredible friend.  I am genuinely appreciative of you, and your willingness to embrace me as your friend.” 

...

“I have to get myself back to being consistently okay again before I feel that I will be able to be anything to anyone other than a disappointment.  I'm working on it. Hard.”

...

One thing that I absolutely respect about Leslie is her genuineness. Out of all the people on earth that I know (besides my mother) she never fails to speak with honesty. There’s no tricks or ulterior agendas in her words. I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that she means what she says. It’s a rare quality to see in people these days.

Sleep 3:30 a.m.

---

[i] Nitro Chiral.

Tuesday February 5 2013

[i]

Alarm goes off at 10:40 a.m.

Oranges. Fruit & Nut Toast. Coffee with Honey and Milk.

Meeting with Danny Rogers at the house. In the past he directed Tokyo’s documentary and is deeply involved in the film industry. I threw an idea at him a while back about making a movie dealing with a Chinese food delivery driver, like myself. We brainstorm and talk about all the exciting things he’s been doing over the past few years.

Ginger Peanut Noodles with Tomatoes and an Egg. Sweet & Spicy Pecans. Honey Green Tea.

Josiah’s in need of a bass player for his BAMM BAMM show tomorrow. It’s only four songs so I opt to learn.

Running a few miles on the treadmill at the clubhouse even though the weather is exceptionally nice outside and I could be exercising in it.

Barbecue Salmon with Multi-Colored Peppers, Onions, Carrots, and Rice.

James, Stephanie, and I drive over to the MOCA art museum where our friend, Christine, is working. Checking out the exhibition.

Afterwards, we hang out at Wheeler and Christine’s house. Before we arrived, a foul smell caused Moses and Calum to investigate underneath the house. A dead possum seems to be the understood culprit but the boys can’t find the source. While they continue their dark escapade the rest of us chill on the front porch talking nonsense.

Back home. I rehearse the BAMM BAMM songs on bass.

Apple Turnover.

Margot hit me up. I still haven’t seen her new house on Shore Drive. She wants me to see it. I head over. The house is spacious with a total of four bedrooms. All the other boy roommates are asleep. We spend time in her new room with hardwood floors giving our voices a slight echo. Despite the occasional flashback slipup our conversation is casual. There might even be hope for an amicable relationship without remnants from the past. We’ll always hold a special but strange trust in one another. She goes on about the past week and some of her experiences here at the house. She seems really happy about her living situation and all her new friends. She’s less alone here and can get all the attention she needs.

...

After an hour or so she’s off to sleep and I head back home. I realized during my visit that I kept pretty clear boundaries, a smart move on my part.

Goldfish Cracker.

Sleep 4 a.m.

---

[i] MOCA. Image by me.

Monday February 4 2013

[i]

☼ ○ ▬

I’m waltzing about in the streets of a big city in Russia, probably Moscow. Surprisingly I’m running into friends from the States. I don’t know if they’re visiting like I am or if they simply live here. Inside a barbershop I shout out “Privet!” to the patrons. More familiar American friends. I continue speaking Russian phrases and sentences I know to impress the few people here. Later, I’m upstairs inside a girl’s apartment. We’re changing our clothes to prepare for a banquet. We don’t know each other that well. There’s contrived sexual energy between us. At every moment I’m about to penetrate I lose strength. I don’t know why. It becomes frustrating.  

▬ ○ ☼

Waking up at 11:05 a.m.

Strawberry Toaster Pastries. Orange Juice.

All day shift at China Wok.

I stop at the house for a hot second to make lunch, and just at the right time. Kevin just got home with a Chanello’s pizza in hand, something he made on his own to share with everyone. I grab two slices for myself.

Greek Salad Style Pizza. Salt n Vinegar Chips. Honey Green Tea.

As I’m driving into the Hilltop shopping plaza I witness a homeless man on crunches lying on his side taking a piss directly in front of Total Wine, the most high traffic spot in the whole shopping plaza. I stare in shock. This is too funny. Nobody seems to notice at first but after a few minutes two police officers reprimand him. After thinking about it he seemed to be having difficulty walking so I imagine he decided pissing while standing up was also difficult. But why in plain view? He was tired. He couldn’t make it to a more discreet spot. Poor guy.

The day is steady for deliveries but nothing substantial for a profit, anywhere between $1 and $2 tips and the miles are racking up.

Today is Resentment Day. Along with the subpar, mediocre, shitty tips I feel resentment towards a lot of things and people. I just want to live in a world where everyone knows how to communicate, where all people are considerate of others, and where some things can actually be held sacred.

Hot and Sour Soup.

Off work and back home.

Cheerios with Brown Sugar and Milk.

Watching stuff.

Sweet & Spicy Pecans and Beer.

Playing music.

Sleep 3:30 a.m.

---

[i] www.wordboner.com

Sunday February 3 2013

[i]

☼ ○ ▬

With Kevin and James at an upscale dinner function. I leave the table and come back to find Kevin has pulled out my laptop, turned it on, and is using it. He changed all the settings and messed with almost all my configurations. I can’t even fathom how he figured out my log-on password. I’m very angry.

Me: “Kevin, what the fuck? This is not cool!”

He just casually smiles like he always does and justifies everything he does for the sake of comedy. I continue scolding him. I go on and on, raising my voice...

▬ ○ ☼

Waking up shortly after 11 a.m.

Strawberry Toaster Pastries. Orange Juice.

All day shift at China Wok.

Egg Salad Sandwich with Tomato. Salt n Vinegar Chips. Honey Green Tea.

While delivering an order out to Shore Drive I decide to take advantage of the travel time and call my mom...

Mom: “You’re like a breath of fresh air calling me.”

The orders are scarce today. I thought it might be busy considering the Super Bowl is tonight but it has the opposite effect. The tips aren’t that great. I’m making about half what I made yesterday in profit. Boo.

Way too much down time. Ling, my boss, explains to me how China is financially independent from the world and how that gives them great independence and autonomy.

Mixed Fruit in Strawberry Yogurt.

A man with a worn out brown jacket and a dramatic looking smile approaches the counter to order food. He’s a little chatty and asks a lot of questions. But he seems harmless. While considering his options on the menu he mentions the verse in the bible (Leviticus) where it states one should not eat shellfish.

I respond, “Yeah. Shrimp are the scavengers of the sea. They’re kind of dirty. Maybe that’s what it’s talking about.”

He inquires if we have anything other than Styrofoam or plastic to eat out of.

He turns to Cecily and exclaims, “Do you know what happens when something hot hits Styrofoam? It turns into arsenic! There’s enough arsenic to kill six people.”

Me: “Yeah, I’d stay away from that stuff.”

http://www.earthresource.org/campaigns/capp/capp-styrofoam.html

 

Fried Chicken with Broccoli, Carrots, Onions, and Rice in Garlic Sauce.

Off work and back home.

I’ve had on and off contact with Aysena. She’s currently visiting her family in Yakutsk, Russia where we have limited communication through email. Tonight I get one. She describes a dream she had the night before:

“one dream with you.

im in yakutsk, it s almost night about 7 or 8pm. i just arrived and want to go outside. so im walking  down the street and im naked. the weather is cold about -40C but i cant feel it. so i keep walking and meet some people . want to talk with them. it seems they dont like me and dont want to talk to me , but then they starting to ask lots of questions.

i woke up (in a dream) and recognized that everyone in yakutsk already knew about yestarday aysenas adventure.

 im embarrasd. your mom , sister (i dunno why) and you over there. i feel like they are nice to me and aint mad at me. they just support me. you are sitting in front of me and scold? me. you are telling me what happened yesterday night. you catched me at night club dancing with some guy, probably i was drunk. you and me are crying. the end.”

James Graves is here. While I clean up in the kitchen we chat about our frustrations with flaky friends and how exhausting it is to make plans with them. Darren comes downstairs and butts in.

...

Eventually, the three of us ride over to Rick’s Café.

Sipping on my decaf brown water as we listen to Darren’s comedic cynicism. His voice carries across the room. Chatting it up with our favorite waitresses, Autumn and Katerina, who rule the night shift.

...

Darren: “The strong distaste I have for the shit that’s gone on at our house and how I can’t reconcile the fact that I really do not want to be a kid anymore. I don’t wanna be a teenager anymore. I’m tired of people being immature. Like, I wanna, quote unquote, grow up. I can’t do that where I’m living. I feel like it gets me angry and...stresses me out.”

Me: “I get it.”

...

I take notice to how after 20 minutes have past Darren hasn’t even taken the wrapper bit off his straw.

James assures, “That’s cause he’s like, I don’t use a straw. I don’t need no goddamn sissy sticks.”

Me: “Heh-heh. Sissy sticks.”

Darren: “That is kinda how I feel about straws. 

...

I ask Darren, “Dude, have you ever thought about doing stand-up comedy?”

Darren: “No. It’s funny when I’m in the moment.”

Me: “Ah. You should.”

Darren: “I’m not a commodity. If you like me and you wanna experience me, then fine. You’re one of the lucky few.”

[Ha-ha-ha]

James turns to me, “Robert, we’re one of the lucky few.”

Me: “I know. I tell myself that every day.”

...

Darren: “The only thing about dating a girl with a kid is just like I don’t think I should be around kids.”

James: “I agree!”

Me: “I agree, too.”

Darren: “I feel like the kid’s gonna be like atheist, gonna hate the world, be super cynical, drinking alcohol...”

[Ha-ha-ha]

Back home. Releasing a cathartic dump in the bathroom. It felt like a whole year’s worth of waste just escaped my body.

Sleep 4 a.m.

---

[i] Styrofoam Cup Art.

Saturday February 2 2013

[i] 

Waking up around 11 a.m.

Instant Blueberry Oatmeal. Coffee with Honey and Milk.

All day shift at China Wok.

During the first hour I busy myself with bagging the fried noodles. Listening to the typical afternoon disputes between my bosses, Cecily and Ling, both of their voices raised. They will argue forever over such trivial things. Even though it’s all in Chinese and I can’t translate I can tell it’s trivial because every now and then I hear food items mentioned. I can’t imagine them resolving these kinds of arguments. I watch as they heat up the woks and prepare an order. They cook with haste and angst. Nothing is made with love here at China Wok but rather with a fiery bang. It’s not necessarily a bad thing though. And I doubt the customer would ever know.

I brought along the last of these Sweet & Spicy Pecans and clobber them all. I’m addicted and can’t wait to make more.

Five Guys French Fries with Ketchup. Honey Green Tea.

Delivering an order in Chantilly. A little boy and his father happen to be coming down the steps in sync with me. The little boys greets me, “Hi, The Chinese Man!”

Me: “Hey!”

The father smiles and corrects him, “I don’t think his name is The Chinese Man.”

The orders pick up substantially. It’s the first of the month and a lot of people just got paid and want takeout. I’m driving non-stop all evening. At the restaurant picking up the phones, scribbling orders, planning routes, etc – everything with a sense of urgency.

Mixed Fruit in Strawberry Yogurt.

After 11 and a half hours I’m finally off work and back home.

I chat with Darren and we share our thoughts on the China Wok drama of the day.

He adds at the end of our conversation, “Oh yeah and I ate an entire Red Baron pizza when I got off.”

Vegetable Lo Mein. Shrimp Egg Roll. Lemon Water.

Watching The Boys of Baraka (2005).

Frequently I take moments to observe my gut. As a whole I’m a skinny guy but if I don’t watch out this little gut will grow.

Hazelnut Cream Filled Wafers.

Sleep 4 a.m.

---

[i] The Chinese Man. Tamara de Lempicka.

Friday February 1 2013

[i]

☼ ○ ▬

For whatever reason I’m assisting Leisa in transporting a push-scooter of hers. She’s attending some kind of new-age class and when she gets out I’m supposed to hand it over. Class ends. All the students rush out the double doors of a warehouse building. There’s Leisa.

Me: “Hey! I brought your scooter.”

I walk down the sidewalk to position it on the street because it folds out into a gas powered four-wheeled motorcycle. I lose my balance and trip over a small dip in the sidewalk. I manage to land upright. Leisa is concerned that I might’ve broken it. I hand it over. She attaches it to another four-wheeled bike-like vehicle. Everything seems to be working.

▬ ○ ☼

Waking up at 1:21 p.m.

Instant Oatmeal with Blueberries. Coffee with Honey and Milk.

Anthony asked me to pick him up from work at Barnes & Noble. I decide to actually buy a pair of new pants at H&M, which I traditionally do about once a year. I scoop up Anthony and we ride to the storage unit where Josiah is waiting on me to let him in. He locked his keys in there the night before from moving all his furniture and things from his old apartment. He’s sporting a new leather jacket his mom got him.

Me: “That’s sharp looking.”

He insists on rolling it on the floor and on the asphalt to rough it up.

Grilled Cheese with Tomato and Hummus. Potato Chips. Honey Green Tea.

General chores and tasks.

Trying out this recipe for Sweet & Spicy Pecans that Leslie gave me and is also apparently an original recipe of our vice president, Joe Biden. They turn out just splendid. I can’t stop eating them.

Darren calls me with an emergency. He’s on the clock at China Wok and his $900 car broke down at the oceanfront. I have to cover for him while he deals with the situation. So I work for a few hours.

Back home.

Hot and Sour Soup with Crunchy Noodles. Garlic Naan Bread. Cabbage and Potatoes.

Watching I Love Your Work (2003).

Learning some songs on guitar.

Eating more Sweet & Spicy Pecans with some Milk. I’m addicted.

Sleep 4 a.m.

---

[i] Image by me.

Thursday January 31 2013

[i]

Waking up at 1:33 p.m.

Strawberry Toaster Pastries. Orange Juice.

Constructing a gift.

Lauren, our former roommate and former house nanny, shows up alongside James. Sharing foodies and goodies at the table.

Egg Sandwich with Mayonnaise and Tomato. Potato Chips. Mixed Fruit with Strawberry Yogurt. Lemon Water.

James cooks in the kitchen. I give him a hard time about his methods and there’s a playful squabble.

Me: “What do you think it’d be like if James and I were dating?”

Anthony: “The same. I would think you’d just kiss every once in a while.”

Time to go to the show at The Shaq. Pinball Locomotive’s triumphant return from a long hibernation as a band. It’s great to reunite with everyone cooped up in this cramped little warehouse space. I open up the show with a solo Musicplayer set. Then a hoppin’ folk band from Richmond called Captain Captain performs. Then Anthony’s band goes on. I accompany them on piano. It’s loud. It’s outrageous. It concludes with Kevin breaking an old viola of his in front of the crowd. A lot of jaws dropped in disbelief thinking he just destroyed the violin he was playing throughout the set. The Nerdlucks perform last and hype up the atmosphere.

[ii]

Leftover Cabbage and Potato.

Afterwards, we corral at Rick’s Café. Anthony, Kelley, Sasha, James, Lauren, and Kevin are present.

Kelley’s somewhat, or mostly inebriated, and tells a story about how she playfully threatened Kevin some time ago, “I told Kevin, one time when he was being a jerk, that one day he would wake up...without an ear.”

Kevin: “She wasn’t joking.”

James interjects, “Way to Van Gogh!”

Everybody laughs.

...

Biscuit and Decaf Coffee.

...

The topic of James quitting his job at GEICO gets brought up. Our waitress, who’s used to our presence and more importantly is used to seeing James on a regular basis, says, “I’m really concerned that you quit your job.”

Back at the house. While cleaning up some dishes and stuff in the kitchen I chat with Sasha for a few minutes. She mentions how grateful she is for our group of friends.

Sleep sometime around 4:30 a.m.

---

[i] Image by Lauren.

[ii] Images by me.

Wednesday January 30 2013

[i]

☼ ○ ▬

Locked in a room. It feels like it’s underwater but I can’t tell. There’s a misunderstanding between a group of men that seem to have bad intentions. One of them has allowed these nasty alien-like octopus creatures to roam free. I threaten to kill every single one. I’ve got a powerful gun that pulverizes the little baddies on the spot. They come in all shapes and sizes. I take the tiny black buggers and stick them to the seats. Some of them have already suctioned themselves on the fingers of the other men. I’m protected but only because of my determination to fight.

▬ ○ ☼

Waking up around 1 p.m.

Instant Blueberry Oatmeal. Coffee Black.

Beautiful weather. Doesn’t make sense.

Getting some groceries at Kroger, but with a budget of only $14 because that’s all that’s in my pocket. Over by the dairy section I notice a little girl almost camouflaged in the shopping cart.

Grilled Cheese with Tomato and Hummus. Rice Crackers. Lemon Water.

Practicing songs at the storage unit.

Back at home. I pull out one of my mom’s recipes for Cabbage & Potato Skillet and go at it. James Graves shows up just in time to share a plate with me. I throw in some warm Garlic Naan Bread.

...

Later it turns into a marker drawing get-together with Leslie and James.

...

Upon marking something she didn’t intend on marking Leslie reacts with disappointment.

I ask, “Why did you do that?”

Leslie: “I didn’t mean to.”

Me: “The road to hell is paved with good intentions.”

Leslie: “At least it’s fucking paved. There’s nothing worse.”

[ii]

James: “Dude, we should make a horror movie about the blog. Whenever you blog about someone they disappear until a year later.”

[Ha-ha-ha]

After everyone leaves I take to the streets where the wind is wild, rushing, and rumbling in the trees. With my running shoes on I imagine the howling wind shooting me up in the sky.

Popcorn.

Watching Night Falls on Manhattan (1997).

Sleep 5 a.m.

---

[i] Reactionary. Marker art by me.

[ii] Apples by James. Graxley the Giraffe by Leslie.

Tuesday January 29 2013

[i]

 Waking up with a heavy head at 1 p.m.

Strawberry Toaster Pastries. Orange Juice.

Chitchatting with Leslie over the phone while I de-shell pecans on the floor with a hammer. We talk for quite a long time discussing her life this past week (or really this past year) and some of the psychological issues going on, personal stuff I guess. But she’s open to me. She’s got one of those hyper active analytical brains, which I can respond to well. Over the weekend she had her phone turned off, typical behavior I’ve come to expect from her. She assures it’s not some spiteful reaction to the world and her friends but that it has concrete reason, something about how she’s not able to function like a normal person.

“During these days when I’m gone from the world it’s too overwhelming for me to even brush my teeth.”

Eating some of Kevin’s cooking: Chicken Alfredo Noodles with Naan Bread. Honey Green Tea.

The weather is actually nice out this evening – 60-degree weather!

At the storage unit practicing some songs.

Then, at home. Playing piano with Pinball Locomotive – rehearsing for the show this Thursday.

Cod Fillets with Multi-Colored Peppers, Carrots, Onions, and Rice. Honey Green Tea.

Watching Butter (2011).

Leslie comes over bearing gifts of soap and toothbrushes for the house. In my room having playful conversation.

Me: “If I don’t know anything how can I promise you anything?”

...

Me: “You’re right.”

Leslie: “I know I’m right.”

Me: “You’re not always right.”

Leslie: “I know that! I don’t always wanna be right. I’m definitely not one of those people that has to be right. I just have to know why I’m wrong most of the time.”

Me: “That’s a good way that everybody should be.”

...

In reference to her shortness she says, “Think about how much space there’d be if everybody was my size.”

...

On the way downstairs we run into Darren.

Leslie announces, “It’s almost black history month.”

Darren: “Actually I read a really moving thing from a black person the other day. It was like, I hate black history month.”

Apple Pie. Beer.

Listening to music. Constructing.

Sleep 5 a.m.

---

[i] Chamo San.

Monday January 28 2013

[i]

Getting up at 11:15 a.m.

Instant Blueberry Oatmeal. Orange Juice.

All day shift at China Wok.

It’s a dreary rainy cold day.

Grilled Cheese with Tomatoes and Hummus. Potato Chip Trio. Honey Green Tea.

One of our old delivery drivers texts me a link to a news article about a Chinese delivery driver getting robbed and shot in Chesapeake. Too close to home. After showing the news to my boss, Cecily, she explains that the owner of that particular Chinese restaurant is her brother. What a coincidence. We sometimes pass over orders to that restaurant when they’re out of our delivery range.

http://www.fox43tv.com/dpps/news/local/robbers-shoot-delivery-driver-in-chesapeake_5426883

Slow. Slow. Slow.

Goldfish Crackers. Apple.

As I drive around delivering I keep the stereo playing anything ranging from upbeat to soft nostalgic. I’m a slave to my mind. I’d really like to learn how to discipline my thoughts, or at least redirect them to a positive and pure mindscape. I find it difficult when listening to songs relating to love or a specific emotion. I get lost. I get weak.

There is hardly a dinner rush.

Vegetable Lo Mein 

Off work.

Making Chocolate Chip Cookies with Pecan Flour. Eating a few with Almond Milk.

Watching Butter (2011).

Darren arrives home from hanging out with friends. He taps on my door to tell me about this gorgeous bar tender that’s made him all giddy inside. He asks for some advice – on the difference between being yourself or being conventional when it comes to approaching girls.

Darren: “What would you do? You’re a little older than me.”

Me: “Ha. Well I’ll just say that the older you get the clearer that line is between conventional and being yourself.”

...

Talks about the upcoming plans to move out of Chanticleer or not when our lease ends in May. It’s only the end of January but renewing the lease doesn’t seem to be the popular option for everyone. I don’t feel like going through the hassle of moving and am more inclined to stay but I’m going to keep on the lookout anyway.

Sleep 4 a.m.

---

[i] Still from Twin Shadow's music video, Five Seconds.

Sunday January 27 2013

[i]

☼ ○ ▬

Driving in a semi-rural city I’m not familiar with. A particular area on a side street sparks my interest. I park the car. Breaking all rules of physical law I somehow manage to flip over my car and carry it with my left arm like it was a skateboard or something. Exploring the back alley of an abandoned industrial building. I admire a block of brightly colored graffiti on the wall. I figure out that where I’ve been roaming about is highly trafficked by the homeless. There’s this cliff runoff where people frequently take dumps and relieve themselves. It feeds down into a feces puddle. I do my best to avoid stepping in it but carrying my skateboard-sized car makes it difficult.   

▬ ○ ☼

Waking up around 11:30 a.m.

Strawberry Toaster Pastries. Orange Juice.

All day shift at China Wok.

Delivering an order to the healthcare and rehabilitation center on Camelot Drive. The girl at the front desk called it in. I remember seeing her a few months ago. I remember her being really pretty. I get nervous. We make the exchange. As she’s signing the credit receipt she comments about her lack of math skills to add up the total. “It’s okay,” I say. We exchange smiles and that’s it. Until next time...

Toasted Peanut Butter Sandwich. Goldfish. Honey Green Tea.

Snapping the peas on the down time and playing poker on my phone.

It’s about 30 degrees outside. And when night falls it only gets colder.

Darren’s here to work the dinner shift. An order for Davenport Lane is sitting on the counter. He keeps raving about some girl who lives there that gave him a “look” last time he delivered to that house. I know who he’s talking about because she’s a regular.

Darren: “C’mon. Let me take this one.”

Me: “Dude, I know who this girl is. She’s like 40 years old and she lives with her boyfriend! Why do you care?”

Darren: “It doesn’t matter how old she is.”

Me: “Okay. I’ll let you take this order...on one condition.”

Darren: “Okay. Fine. What?”

Me: “You have to give her that ‘look’ back.”

...

He texts me later with disappointment, “It was a guy.”

Asian Pear and an Apple.

It’s getting down to the last hour. I take my final order to Retreat Court. A kind girl in grey sweatpants, a green Trix cereal t-shirt, and glasses answers the door. She hands me a five-dollar bill as a tip and with gratitude thanks me, “I really appreciate you coming out here.” After the exchange, and without even thinking about it, we share that “look” Darren and I were talking about earlier. You can feel it. It’s just like an extra second or two of a stare. I always get giddy after moments like. 

Off work and back home.

Fried Shrimp with Broccoli, Carrots, Onions, and Rice in Garlic Sauce.

Skype chat with Aysena. We keep getting disconnected.

There’s some emotional tension on the bleakness of things ever working out between us

Ays: “I’ve seen the future. It will hurt us.”

Me: “You can’t know the future.”

She holds up Leo Tolstoy’s A Confession, a book she’s currently reading.

Me: “What does Tolstoy say about this?”

Ays: “It says what is the truth of a life. He says when you are smart...when you are reading everything...you are near to think like the whole life is evil. He says that it’s maybe true. Talk to simple people who work and just take care of their children...you know just simple stuff who don’t think about truth of a life.”

Me: “I am not simple.”

Ays: “You’re not a simple man! You’re so abnormal. You’re so...James Robert Smith.”

Me: “What about you? Are you a simple woman?”

Ays: “I’m not strong. I’m not strong at all. I can ruin something and don’t think about it. I’m just a little woman that don’t think about anything...just think about myself...my happiness.”

Me: “You are not alone. Everybody thinks about their happiness.”

Hot Chocolate.

Sleep 3:30 a.m.

---

[i] Bengal.

Saturday January 26 2013

[i]

Waking up at 11 a.m.

Strawberry Toaster Pastries. Orange Juice.

All day shift at China Wok.

Driving around an aftermath of a winter wonderland. Icicles melting underneath parked cars and gutters. Cold white blankets covering everything. The streets, slushy and bumpy.

Hard Boiled Egg. Five Guys French Fries with Ketchup. Honey Green Tea.

I don’t want to say that my little meeting with Margot last night screwed me up but it’s definitely got my mind swimming in a strange soupy mess of ugly feelings. That’s the best way to describe these feelings: ugly...and bittersweet. I’ll at least say it was nice to see her but it was not good to see her. I’m not hopped up on her in anyway. I’m fine without her. I’m fine on my own, doing my own thing, living my own life. I’m not involved in her life anymore. Obviously I’ve moved on from this relationship months ago and I’ve even had my share in other relationships since we broke up. I guess I just really didn’t want to hear about the sex tabloids. Some of the things she said last night reminded me of how disconnected we are. Of course we saw eye to eye emotionally, romantically, and sexually. But we’ve never been on the same page philosophically or mentally. She’s destined to be a part of a different breed than I. But none of this matters or relates to me right now. It was just a brief flashback to what was. Most things fade away eventually, some faster than others. 

Apple.

5 is the magic number today. Almost every customer I’ve delivered to today has given me $5. Oh yeah, I’m rollin’ in it. It feels good to reap the benefits of my job.

The fantasy world I entertain in my head is more menacing than the actual reality of things.

Off work and back home. Darren and James try to persuade me to join them at Mermaids. I decline.

Me: “Why would I want to spend money to watch a girl shake her ass?”

Tofu with Broccoli, Snow Peas, Onions, and Rice in Garlic Sauce.

Fortune cookie says, “The saints are the sinners who keep on trying.”

Watching The Vanishing (1993).

Organizing music files – building playlists.

Darren and James arrive home after a few hours at Mermaid’s. Both of them, but mainly Darren, are wobbling around in my bedroom. An all out revenge ensues via Darren when he realizes that Kevin is asleep in his bedroom. For all the times that Kevin brings all his friends over and acts obnoxious, Darren on a whim runs out into the hallway yelling and hooting at the top of his lungs and banging on Kevin’s door.

Eventually Darren, after talking his head off about moving to Thailand and marrying Devon, resigns to his room. James and I continue a chat about things...

James: “I don’t even post stuff on Facebook anymore; I just ‘like’ stuff.”

Me: “We’ve been trained to communicate to the masses as opposed to a person.”

...

Me: “It’s an illusion of importance, of connection.”

James: “Over indulgence in self-importance.”

Hot Chocolate.

Sleep 4 a.m.

---

[i] Unicorns. Image source unknown.

Friday January 25 2013

[i]

☼ ○ ▬

Fulfilling my cleaning duties in a bathroom. Spraying a green chemical everywhere, on the toilet seat, on the sinks, on the floors, etc. A fairly attractive girl that I don’t know too well lends a helping hand.

▬ ○ ☼

Waking up around 1:30 p.m.

Strawberry Toaster Pastries. Orange Juice.

The weather reports are calling it Winter Storm Kahn but it’s definitely going to snow tonight.

Digging into some research on how to insulate my storage unit – getting lost in a sea of information.

The S N O W arrives. It’s tenderly quiet outside. Snow has a mysterious beauty to it.

I trek over to the clubhouse to run on the treadmill for a few miles.

It’s not surprising that even though I’m not scheduled to work tonight I get called into China Wok. So here I am traversing around the icy sludgy roads of Virginia Beach at a cautious pace of 25 miles per hour delivering Chinese food. I observe a few idiots swerve off the side of the road. I myself manage to survive a few 180-degree spins. The trick is to take the turns slowly and carefully. The tips are in the extreme. It’s either $8 to $10 tips or straight up stiffs.

...

Meanwhile Margot calls me while I’m maneuvering around. I was supposed to help her move some things from her condo into a new place. But she locked herself out of her condo. She’s upset because it becomes quite an ordeal, as the condo office doesn’t even have an extra key to let her in so she has to call an overpriced locksmith. It’s weird I haven’t even heard her voice in so long. It’s normally like this though; whenever she’s in trouble or needs moral support I get a ring.

Off work.

I got invited to hang out with Margot for a little bit. I drive over to her condo. She only has a few more days till she officially moves out. I drink up a few beers in her fridge that she wants rid of, a Shock Top and a Hoegaarden. I was already informed she’s moving into a house off Shore Drive with dudes, which is kind of strange. As I sip on the beers I’m bombarded with a tale of her hooking up with a guy that she plans on moving in with. I act solemn and uninterested. She notices. Her attitude proves she’s not hopped up on me whatsoever. I didn’t necessarily expect her to be nor do I really want her to be. But I definitely don’t care to hear about her sex life. There’s something disturbing about it. I know we’re both way past this kind of stuff by now but it just makes me uncomfortable to even imagine these kinds of things.

She insists on hearing about any stories I may have.

Her: “C’mon. Tell me some juicy stories.”

Me: “Um. I really don’t have any. Not since the last time I saw you.”

Condescendingly she says, “Oh that’s unfortunate.”

...

Walking around in the bedroom.

Me: “Man, I’ve spent a lot of nights here.”

Her: “So have I.”

Me: “Duh.”

...

She gets all googly-eyed at some point and draws out her arms for a hug. We embrace.

Her: “God, it’s weird seeing you.”

Me: “I know. Same here. I miss you sometimes.”

...

She’s off to visit one of her girlfriends at work. I walk her outside. I scrape the snow off her car. She rolls down the window and gives me a genuine smile.

Her: “It was good to see you.”

Me: “Good to see you as well.”

Back home.

Watching Escape from Alcatraz (1979).

Hot and Sour Soup with Crunchy Noodles. Creamy Polenta with Spinach and Carrots.

Sleep 3:30 a.m.

---

[i] Image by me.

Thursday January 24 2013

[i]

☼ ○ ▬

Involved in a disturbing scenario where a friend of mine is diagnosed with diabetes, but strangely she got it from having sex with an AIDS infected partner. Some of us are trying our best to comfort her in bed. Other people are getting sick.

▬ ○ ☼

Waking up around 2 p.m.

Researching. Browsing. Chatting.

Sharing the kitchen with Kevin. Once again, as he does every day, he gives me a hard time on my selection of lunch.

Kevin: “Let me guess. An egg sandwich!”

Me: “Yeah so what?”

He points to the plastic container of yellow grape tomatoes I have out and asks, “What is that?”

Me: “Tomatoes!”

Kevin: “That is so hipster.”

Me: “Just because I eat tomatoes with my sandwiches I’m a hipster?”

...

After I finish preparing lunch Kevin asks with a stupid grin on his face, “So did you just wake up one day and decide I’m gonna be a hipster for the next ten years?”

I ignore him.

Kevin: “Seriously. Is that how it happened?”

I continue to ignore him and march upstairs.

Egg Sandwich with Tomatoes and Mayonnaise. Salt n Vinegar Chips. Mixed Fruit with Vanilla Greek Yogurt. Lemon Water.

Watching Taking Shelter (2011).

I try my hand at poker with sharks at a house off Rosemont. I went there once before with Art. He’s there with Mike Gombas and a bunch of other dudes I don’t know well. I make it through the first half but my chips trickle down after the second half and eventually put me out of the game.

Back home. My jacket is saturated with smoke from the game.

Beans, Tomatoes, Chard Greens, Carrots, and Quinoa with Asiago Cheese Bread.

At the storage unit tweaking with effects pedals and playing songs. The temperature outside is relentlessly cold with it only mildly warmer inside this space. The convection heater I bought last week just isn’t cutting it. This room has too many openings and drafts.

Home.

Hot Chocolate.

Sleep 5 a.m.

---

[i] Inverted Earth.

Wednesday January 23 2013

[i]

☼ ○ ▬

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

▬ ○ ☼

Awakening at about 1:30 p.m.

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

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

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

Watching Shotgun Stories (2007).

Researching.

Playing songs on guitar.

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

...

Over there. Running about three miles.

...

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

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

...

Up in her bedroom. Getting into a musical mood – taking turns playing songs on the Mac.

I take notice to her constant movement around the room. Restless. Sitting still isn’t easy.

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

Humorously she replies with some kind of sexual comment.

...

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

Back home.

Sleep 5 a.m.

---

[i] Image by me.