I LOVE

Tuesday February 19 2013

[i]

At 10 a.m. I’m awoken by James reading cheesy jokes aloud as he scrolls through his phone. The cats roam about in our room vying for attention.

Wide-eyed and bushy tailed in downtown Blacksburg. James, Leslie, Becca, and I walk over to Gillie’s for a fine breakfast consisting of a short stack of Silver Dollar Pancakes, Scrambled Eggs, Cinnamon Broiled Grapefruit, and Cranberry Juice. The waiter hands us the check. The first item befuddles all of us as it literally says, “$ BUTT”.

But we soon figure out its short for silver dollar buttermilk pancakes. This becomes an ongoing joke throughout the day.

[ii]

Back at Becca’s apartment prepping for the hiking trip in store – packing snacks.

Commenting on Becca’s behavior Leslie says, “She’s always ten thoughts ahead of us. Its like stealth ADD.”

On the drive to a hiking trail Becca knows about.

“Give us some mountain music!”

Johnny Cash serenading us on the stereo.

Leslie mentions something about having lived next to water her whole life and how important that is for her. Ocean represents vitality.

It’s about a mile hike to Cascades Falls. We follow a babbling brook through a lush serene path full of a variety of rocks, big and small. It’s refreshing to the soul, this environment and natural clean atmosphere. After being distracting by several picturesque spots we finally arrive at Cascades Falls. Snowflakes begin falling like tiny feathers on our noses.

Lentil Sandwich with Tomato. Sweet & Spicy Pecans. Pretzels. Water.

We take the high trail back down to the parking lot, a much easier narrower path. James and I march in the lead singing mountain-themed songs and old songs like “Big Rock Candy Mountain” and “Father Abraham”.

Coffee.

James has been officially dubbed The Snack Monster.

We scoop up Becca’s friend Tim and head to the salon in Christiansburg where she works. She gives me a haircut while everyone else waits. James wakes up from a nap and is excited about a dream he just had involving an oversized ice cream cone he filled up with ice cream but it dropped and he never got to taste it.

After that we head to Radford to meet up with Devon at River City Grille.

Alfredo Linguine with Broccoli, Tomatoes, and Dinner Rolls.

The cold brisk air outside is barely unbearable, especially to Leslie. She’s stated how sensitive she is to cold weather.

A few games of pool at a bar across the street. A stranger challenges me in a game and teaches me a few tricks and tips on handling a pool stick.

An Oatmeal Cookie at a shop called Crumb & Get It.

Back in our cozy little crooked room settling down. Putting on Me and You and Everyone We Know (2005) to lull us to sleep.

[i] All photos by me or Becca.

[ii] Mr. Money Butts. Drawing by James.

Monday February 18 2013

[i]

☼ ○ ▬

Anthony and I are making a movie that’s based on a novel. I just finished reading the novel. I go to sleep and have a dream centered on the story. All the locations and interactions were so vivid. A busy little convenient store equipped with a deli and stocked with all kinds of marked down products. An Indian man named Dannie owns it and lives on the property as well. With Darren, Anthony, and Kelley inside the shop snooping around. Anthony tries to bargain with Dannie about buying a bundle of apples for only $13. I wake up and describe the dream to Anthony as we’re riding in the back of a 15-passenger van. We come across a huge crowd chanting somebody’s name in front of a church. It’s becoming harder and harder to hear my own voice from all the noise and I’m frustrated that Anthony can’t hear me.

▬ ○ ☼

Waking up around 1 p.m.

Strawberry Toaster Pastries. Orange Juice.

James and I hit the road. We meet up at Leslie’s house. She just got done with her babysitting job and didn’t pack yet. Waiting inside her house while she gathers her things.

Leslie: “The more people that are around me the more frantic I am.”

Now we’re off. All packed into James’ car. James at the wheel, I in the passenger seat, and Leslie cooped up in the backseat. I deejay the trip with iPod in hand.

[ii]

Leslie: “Do you feel bad for slugs?”

Me: “No.”

James: “Never.”

Me: “I don’t ever think about slugs. I think they enjoy their life. They live in the moment.”

James: “Why would you feel bad for slugs?”

Leslie continues in her matter of fact voice, “Cause they pretty much don’t fit in anywhere. And they’re tragically, tragically allergic to salt and everybody knows about it. They are pretty much the world’s outcast. They do not belong on land. If they did then they should do one of two things like all of their other relatives on land: they should either have a shell or they should turn into something prettier than die within two weeks of turning into that prettier thing. But instead, they’re just wet. And they just splooge around. They look like they belong in the sea.”

...

Lentil Sandwich with Tomato. Salt n Vinegar Chips. Water.

A few stops here and there.

Banana. Chocolate Bar with Hazelnuts.

As we’re traversing along the rolling hills and farmhouse landscapes of US-58 Leslie spouts out, “I wanna live out here.” A few minutes later we’re greeted to a picturesque sunset. Orange and pink colored embers light up the evening sky. Jolie Holland’s warm voice on the stereo facilitating the reverent and tender mood...

“I’m feeling so haunted...”

I feel tender in return. Thinking about the memories embedded in these roads from past drives dating back to my youth and un-jaded romantic years.

Sweet & Spicy Pecans.

After a six-hour drive from Virginia Beach we finally arrive in Blacksburg, a rugged college mountain town. I’ve been here before. We meet up with Becca at a pub called The London Underground.

Hanging around at the bar. Leslie and I share a Cheese Pizza with Mushrooms, Banana Peppers, and Tomatoes as toppings. Sipping on a pint of Yuengling. It’s good to see Becca. She introduces us to Kai, a new guy friend of hers.

Afterwards, we all hop into Becca’s car, James, Leslie, and I cramped in the backseat with a pile of blankets. Kai and Becca know a special spot down by the river directly underneath a mountain. We drive up and over and down and under until we locate the scenic spot. James finds a few more rusty bottle caps to add to his collection. It’s gotta be in the mid-30’s outside with gusts of cold wind.

After 2 a.m. we’re taken to a cozy house next door to a white church. Three friendly cats roam about. The three of us settle down in a small room heated by a convection heater and where the floor is not leveled.

Sleep sometime around 3 a.m.

[i] Rolling Hills Sunrise. Image by Leslie.

[ii] All other images by me.

Sunday February 17 2013

[i]

Waking up at 11:30 a.m.

Instant Blueberry Oatmeal. Coffee with Brown Sugar and Almond Milk.

All day shift at China Wok.

Egg on an English Muffin with Mayonnaise and Tomato. Salt n Vinegar Chips with Avocado. Honey Oolong Tea.

The day is steady – getting decent tips.

The cold air is brisk and bitter. The wind chill makes it feel dramatically colder than it’s supposed to be. I hop out of the car and dart to the customer’s door, body shaking and teeth chattering, impatiently waiting to make the transaction as quickly as possible. Then, experiencing that overwhelming relief after plopping down in the driver’s seat, inside my mobile oven.

Listening to the comedy station on the radio. A clip of Demetri Martin comes on, “I was in my friend’s garage, and he had a kite, a yo-yo, and a boomerang. I was like, ‘Dude, you have abandonment issues.’”

Off work and back home.

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

James is gonna spend the night here because tomorrow we’ll be going on a road trip together to Blacksburg. He persuades me to go to Rick’s with him. Our favorite waitresses, Autumn and Katerina, are on the clock.

...

Katerina comes to take our order. After reciting a joke I heard on the radio she watches James collect some foam on his mustache from the hot chocolate.

Her: “You got something there.”

Me: “I know! It’s on your mustache, dude. Every time you take a sip...”

He just smiles and says, “It’s part of my life. It’s something I have to live with.”

...

Clinton and Tayo walk in. They sit a few booths across from us. After I fly a paper airplane over to their table we commence a comical ongoing passing of notes.

Katerina comes to check on us.

Her: “What’re you guys talking about over here?”

Me: “Oh you know. Movies, love, and romance.”

Back home.

Sleep 4:30 a.m.

[i] Phone glitch. Image by me (produced by my phone).

Saturday February 16 2013

[i]

☼ ○ ▬

Walking down the street in an unfamiliar city. I’m all alone. I feel a poke from behind. It’s Raven. I haven’t seen her in ages. She looks different than I remember. We spark up a lighthearted conversation and catch up on things.

▬ ○ ☼

Waking up regretfully at 11:02 a.m.

Strawberry Toaster Pastries. Orange Juice.

All day shift at China Wok.

I’ve been wearing this friendship bracelet Leslie made for me. Somehow it’s retained a unique scent reminiscent of fragrant dryer sheets. But it smells like her. I’m grateful.

Sweet & Spicy Pecans. Five Guy’s French Fries with Ketchup. Honey Oolong Tea.

It rains but the rain gradually transforms into snow. It’s too wet for any of it to really stick. This causes an expected boost in deliveries.

As soon as I step into the restaurant I’m back out the door with a handful of orders. It’s non-stop all day long.

God and these idiots behind the wheel! This stop and go traffic is exasperating. I can only go as fast as the driver in front of me. Just puttin’ along. My nerves are racked. Inefficient driving behavior annoys the hell out of me.

The night just drags on and on. This city’s appetite for Chinese food is insatiable.

Finally off work and back home after over eleven hours of mayhem.

Hot and Sour Soup with Broccoli and Rice.

Watching Switchback (1997).

Fortune cookie says, “Moderate you appetite so that with a little you may be content.”

http://www.scientificamerican.com/article.cfm?id=brainless-slime-molds

Just outside my bedroom window I keep hearing the sound of a Taser gun. Kevin recently bought a fairly cheap one and keeps showing it off to his friends.

Chocolate Cake with Almond Milk.

Sleep 3 a.m.

[i] Slime mold. Photographed by Russian researchers.

Friday February 15 2013

^[i]

Waking up around 11 a.m. to a call from Edible Arrangements. I left them my number yesterday to see if they needed any extra drivers and they need me. There were a ton of back-orders from Valentine’s Day that didn’t get delivered.

Instant Blueberry Oatmeal. Coffee with Sugar and Almond Milk.

Driving around parts of Virginia Beach I haven’t seen a while. This particular Edible Arrangements is located off Princess Anne Road. Some of the people at the shop recognize me from a Mother’s Day I worked two years ago. I’m given a 12-order route. Compared to my job at China Wok this requires a little more focus and attention, mainly because I’m looking for addresses in neighborhoods I’m not familiar with. But I learn fast. The traffic in this part of town is on a bigger scale. Hilltop doesn’t even compare. I used to think I had it bad.

Snacking on Chips and Goldfish Crackers.

After 5 hours and 2 runs later I’m back home...exhausted.

Space rocks hit Russia today!

http://www.reuters.com/article/2013/02/15/us-russia-meteorite-idUSBRE91E05Z20130215

Banana. Honey Oolong Tea.

Recuperating.

Lentils, Couscous, Asparagus, Mushrooms, Onions, Peppers, and Parmesan Bread.

Watching Scalene (2011).

Playing songs and writing.

Happy and sad Skype chat with Aysena.

An Orange and Chocolate Chip Cookies.

Sleep 3-ish a.m.

[i] Putin Riding Space Rock.

Thursday February 14 2013

[i]

Waking up around 10:30 a.m. Last night I called around to a bunch of flower shops to see if they needed extra drivers for Valentine’s Day. Flowers at Hilltop called me back.

Strawberry Toaster Pastries. Orange Juice.

Making some side cash delivering a two and a half hour run of roses and bouquets all around Virginia Beach.

Egg Sandwich with Mayonnaise and Tomato. Goldfish Crackers. Honey Oolong Tea.

Watching The Good Doctor (2011).

“For every invention made how much time did we save?

We're not much farther than we were in the cave.”

James meets here at the house offering me a few slices of his made from scratch Pizza. I add a Salad. Before we head to Norfolk for party shenanigans we stop by Leslie’s house briefly. I wanted to give her a small Valentine’s gift of sunflowers and an authentic mini Valentine card from the 90’s. She offers us homemade Chocolate Chip Cookies that her stepmom baked.

She sends me an after text, “Hey thank u so much. Seriously made my year :0)”

...

At Emily Hill’s place in Ghent. It’s an iPod party but nothing too overwhelming, just a small number of friends and friends of friends hanging out in a studio apartment. Sipping on Punch and Champagne. I’m encouraged to put on a pair of green tights taken out of Emily’s collection.

Afterwards James, Uhlecksee, this kid Michael, and I make an appearance at another party near ODU. It’s been categorized as an anti-Valentine’s Day event but it’s nothing more than a typical rowdy college party – a house littered with half-naked girls wearing electrical tape and duct tape made dresses and outfits, and with dudes costumed as Greek gods, skimpy underwear, and robes. James and I observe the nature of this raucous and outrageous scene. We don’t feel connected because we hardly know anyone here except for a few familiar faces. Everyone’s like sardines in here anyway. There’s nothing much you can do but stand in one spot while people squeeze by you. Party monsters. Eye candy. Pure unadulterated nonsense.

On the drive back to Virginia Beach sharing a few realizations with James...

“Man simply needs to be around beauty, even if he can’t have it. He wants to capture it but just being around it validates his existence.”

I’m exhausted.

Sleep around 4 a.m.

[i] Valentine I received from a girl in 1^st grade

Wednesday February 13 2013

^[i]

Waking up around 1 p.m.

Strawberry Toaster Pastries. Orange Juice.

Biking in the rain. Getting my taxes done at Liberty Tax. Originally I was going to do them myself but with my unique situation at China Wok I’d rather not rip my hair out over it and get it done professionally.

Egg Sandwich with Mayonnaise and Tomato. Goldfish Crackers. Honey Oolong Tea.

Ken comes over with a copy of In Passing, the film he directed about two years ago. I’ve been trying to get my hands on a copy of it.

This whole day I’ve been spread thin – moving from one activity to another.

Vaginasaurs practice at the storage unit. Teaching Laura, our newly acquired guitar player, some of the songs. She’s like this 35 year-old rocker girl and digs what we do.

Black Beans with Onions, Carrots, Peppers, and Pear Couscous.

Watching The Raven (2012).

“i decided that would be better if i wait the sign that you are really in my life and the summer we had wasn't just a dream. i dream of you all time so i could just imagine you and make a mistake that you exist. hope you weren't a ghost and i'm not living with false memories.”

“Everything that happened with us last summer is not false memories. They are real memories. That is not undetermined. The real question is the future. You know it. Things between us have an uncertain vision. Sometimes I think of you as only a fantasy or just imagination because you are not here.”

Inspiration to clean the kitchen...almost thoroughly.

Tweaking. Thinking.

Dark Chocolate Peanut Butter Cups.

Sleep at some point.

[i] Justine Lai.

Tuesday February 12 2013

[i]

Slowly awakening...

Strawberry Toaster Pastries. Orange Juice.

Skype chat with Aysena.

Then immediately into another Skype meeting with Danny Rogers and Anthony. Discussing the film we’re gonna make this summer, a character study on a delivery driver. We share ideas for a story and particular scenes. Anthony’s in charge of writing a script. We’re all very stoked on this project.

Grilled Cheese with Tomato and Hummus. Salt n Vinegar Chips. Lemon Water.

Dropping my car off at the shop – riding Kevin’s bike back home.

Time to configure my taxes. Tedious calculations and understanding tax jargon.

Leslie stops by to give me a long awaited homemade friendship bracelet. Gradually the people of the house migrate into my bedroom and talks ensue.

Grilled Barbecue Salmon with Asparagus, Onions, Peppers, and Pearl Couscous. Beer.

General camaraderie at the dinner table with Darren, James, Anthony, and Kelley.

Tax frustrations.

Fiddling on the guitar.

Listening to music.

Sleep 4 a.m.

[i] Friendship Bracelet.

Monday February 11 2013

[i]

☼ ○ ▬

In an old Russian town at an ancient building site that used to be a children’s nursery. It’s over one hundred years old. The city decided to renovate it modestly, adding modern day walls and intricate tunnels. They’ve turned it into a youth center.

▬ ○ ☼

Waking up at 11:10 a.m.

Oranges.

All day shift at China Wok.

Men should avoid women who jump to conclusions too quickly.

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

Voicemail: “Dear Leslie, I have some unfortunate news. I came across a witch today in my China Wok travels. She said I was going to turn into a newt. Yes, a newt! Unless you contact me before the stroke of midnight.”

After my towing mishap yesterday I decided to send a professional email complaint to our property manager. He replied back today and offered to reimburse the towing fees. So now I have $135 back in my pocket. Score!

The tips are unusually generous for a Monday night and I’m not complaining.

I’m also feeling unusually angsty. As I drive around I choose appropriate tunes to match my mood. Enjoying a crisp Apple. Taking hefty aggressive bites. Patting my legs pretending they are drums. Bobbing my head in a careless manner. I don’t give a hoot about the guy next to me.

Vegetable Lo Mein.

Off work. Before I head home I drive to Leslie’s neck of the woods (Little Neck). We take a lengthy walk around her neighborhood. She tends to get overwhelmed sometimes in her day-to-day life so I always consider any opportunity I have with her a privilege. I have an inspiring desire to maintain this friendship that we’ve forged and keep it close to my heart. For some reason I feel this relationship is important and will be in the future. We traverse on the moist asphalt – passing quiet homes – kicking fallen gumballs – feeling the refreshing wind on our faces. I hope this weather is here to stay. Conversations on relational frustrations and idealism.

...

Leslie: “I feel like dog owners tend to live in places where it’s not convenient to have a dog.”

Me: “That’s true though cause those are the places that I deliver to the most.”

...

Leslie: “I have this unwavering sense of idealism that’s probably not good for me.”

She pauses and adds, “I feel like you might have it too.”

Me: “Well, I probably do.”

Leslie: “It’s like the idealist fairy came and sprinkled something over our heads like, Mh-mh-mh-mh! Have fun with this one kids!”

Me: “Heh-heh-heh”

Leslie “Trust those you shouldn’t.”

Me: “Ha!”

Leslie: “Be leery of those you should.”

Me: “Well, I think idealism is healthy for anybody. It’s just a matter of balancing out what you think reality is and what kind of reality you’re going to experience.”

Leslie: “I think we both live in a little bit of extreme land.”

Me: “Or living in your head. Living in your head and living outside of your head. Those are two different things. I think that’s really hard to balance.”

Back home. James and Richie are painting and making things in the dining room. Ever since James quit his job we’ve been seeing more of his presence around, as well I’ve seen more art being made. I’m proud of him in his decision.

Pecan Chocolate Chip Cookies with Almond Milk.

Sleep 3:30 a.m.

[i] Goan Church. Heartbeeps.

Sunday February 10 2013

[i]

☼ ○ ▬

They’ve started demolishing an old house that belonged to a great-uncle of mine. I arrive on the scene exploring what’s left. For whatever reason the main living room is still in tact. I examine unique photo albums and picture frames. Later I’m delegated the duty of helping a small dog that seems to be lifeless on the grass by a freestanding fireplace. I run over and scoop him up in my arms. It’s undetermined whether or not he’s dead. As I cradle the poor thing I realize he is still alive and just needed a little support.

▬ ○ ☼

Waking up at noon o’clock. I’m supposed to be at work like...now. When I step outside the front door to the bright sunny cold world I discover my car is not where I parked it the night before.

Me: “You gotta be kidding me!”

It must’ve gotten towed. In our wonderful little townhome neighborhood each parking spot is painted with a number corresponding with the address you live at. Any spot without a number is a free spot. Unfortunately, at night with all the dim street lighting and the fact that theses painted numbers are so washed out you can barely tell if it’s numbered or not. I recall even checking last night but apparently I was wrong. Whoever owned the spot probably came in late at night, saw another car parked in his spot, and called the towing company. I mean I would’ve done the same thing if I were him. What can you do? There goes $135, practically a whole day’s earnings out the door and into oblivion. I try not to let it get to me, but what a great way to start the day!

Strawberry Toaster Pastries. Orange Juice.

All day shift at China Wok.

Sweet & Spicy Pecans. Honey Green Tea. These pecans have become a substantial and filling lunch.

It’s fairly busy today – driving everywhere.

Salt n Vinegar Chips. Banana.

At the end of medians near the intersections you can always find those stupid generic advertising signs, you know the ones that say stuff like, “WE BUY JUNK CARS” or “COMPUTER VIRUS” or “DIVORCE”. I mean who actually calls these numbers? I guess people with no resources whatsoever. Either way today I notice a few new ones in the ground, “SELL ME YOUR REPULSIVE HOUSE”.

Off work and back home.

Tofu with Broccoli, Carrots, Onions, and Rice in Garlic Sauce.

Watching Tax Driver (1976).

Sleep 4 a.m.

[i] Repulsive House. Image by me.

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.

Pages