Friday October 18 2013

[i]

☼ ○ ▬

Driving around in a Mini Cooper with the convertible top down in light snowfall – Ana's in the passenger seat.

▬ ○ ☼

Waking up at 11 a.m.

Honey Almond Granola Bar. Grapefruit. Orange Juice. Vitamin C (500 mg). I'm hoping the extra doses of Vitamin C will help with the healing process of my thumb, like rebuilding tissue walls and such.

All day shift at China Wok.

It's amazing how difficult basic tasks become when I have a non-working right thumb. I have to improvise almost everything: writing, folding bags, shifting the gear and turning the ignition using my index finger, phone handling with my left hand, etc.

Delivering an order on Five Points. A casual black dude walks out the front door to greet me. He lets me keep about 50 cents as a tip and tells me as I walk off, "Enjoy yourself man. Have fun today!"

In my head I respond sarcastically, "Right. Yeah, I will man. Thanks!"

Five Guy's French Fries with Ketchup. Honey Green Tea.

The day continues pathetically but with acceptance.

Oatmeal Cookies.

Dinner deliveries pick up dramatically.

Ana comes by and accompanies me in the car. She wraps up in the turtle towel as it's become a little chilly tonight. I put the iPod on shuffle and reminisce on the good, the bad, and the ugly. Even though it hasn’t been but a few days I missed her presence. She tells me about how she went to the Norfolk Zoo today by herself drawing different animals, saving the red panda for last.

Off work and back home.

Hot and Sour Soup with Broccoli and Rice.

Breaking Bad.

Cinnamon Toast Crunch.

Sleep 3:45 a.m.

---

[i] Jordan & Johnson (1992).

Thursday October 17 2013

[i]

11:24 a.m. I wake up on the couch in my dad's guest room. The plaque and picture frame with all his Air Force medals is hanging on the wall next to a picture of golf paraphernalia and an eagle. His service in the Air Force reminds me when I was a little boy. After he retired I remember spending a lot of time at the post office on base where he worked. I would sift through the junk mail out of boredom or play NBA Jam on Sega in the break room.

In the kitchen making breakfast alongside Jennifer. She makes herself pancakes with globs of butter. I cook Scrambled Eggs with Toast, Grapefruit, a Pancake with Nutella, and Orange Juice. We talk a little bit about school. I learn that she can draw and paint really well. I commission her to make me a picture of something and mail it.

Out in the driveway my dad sips on a Sam's Cola and chows down on hamburgers and hotdogs. We have a brief one-on-one conversation. It's important for me to talk with my dad about anything. There's no telling how long he'll have to live, not that he isn't healthy but nobody is promised tomorrow. I just want to stay as close as I can to him. It's hard when there's always people around, like Patty and Jennifer. I realize he's got his own agenda trying to provide for this new family. It's an honorable thing. He's developed a good amount of wealth and he just wants to give.

I leave the Carolinian plains behind – a three and a half hour trip ahead. For nourishment, a Peanut Butter Sandwich, Salt n Vinegar Chips, and a Coffee. Just listening to music until I arrive in Virginia Beach.

At the house. Of course there's a pile of dishes in and around the sink and nobody took it upon themselves to run the dishwasher, which would be full. I take care of everything in about twenty minutes. I don't worry about these kinds of chores that I shouldn't be responsible for cause I get reimbursed in other ways.

At the Rec Center participating in adult basketball. Within the first few minutes of the first game I block a pass with my right hand and the ball jams my thumb pretty bad. I could've avoided this injury if I held my palms out facing my opponent like a defender is supposed to do. Despite the non-working thumb I manage to shoot three shots in a row. My teammate mimics the sound of an airplane as the ball swishes into the hoop. The thumb is getting worse but I continue on until shortly after 8 when people start to leave. I was supposed to have practice with Josiah and Calum afterwards but I realize there's no way I can even grip a pic to play bass without it hurting.

Back home. Keeping ice on my thumb. Making dinner.

Spaghetti with Tomato Basil Sauce, Onions, and Peppers. Kale and Romaine Lettuce Salad with Carrots and Cucumbers.

Breaking Bad.

Taking it easy. Using Tiger Balm on the injured thumb. Then, a splint.

Sleep 4 a.m.

---

[i] David Maisel.

Wednesday October 16 2013

[i]

Waking up at 1:23 p.m. Dad and Patty went to the store to get food for camping tonight.

I make myself some breakfast: Scrambled Eggs, Toast, Grapefruit, and Orange Juice.

Jennifer just arrived home from school. We chat in the kitchen like stepbrother and sister. She tells me about how a girl got jealous of her because she was talking with the girl's boyfriend or something.

Jennifer: "Mexican girls jealous of me for some reason."

Eventually, dad and Patty get home. I had mentioned yesterday about why he never had a basketball goal in the driveway. So he bought one but it turns out to be a junior size. I'm delegated to drive back into town to return it and buy the official size. I take the wheel of dad's old pickup truck. It's a 90-something with over 240,000 miles on it, the only vehicle he'll never sell or give up. Jennifer and Patty come with me.

Back at the house. Using the picture instruction manual I spend a few hours constructing the whole thing. It's quite a production but with the proper tools and patience we complete it. Everything's set up and we all shoot the balls around. Apparently, Patty used to play ball in high school back in Honduras. Dad attempts a few shots but his foot prevents him from running around.

A bowl of Raisin Bran Cereal with Bananas.

Out in the backyard the campground is in high gear, the picnic table with grilled hotdogs, hamburgers, and baked beans laid out, my dad with tongs for the grill in hand, and the neighbors socializing. The radio from the garage is blasting classic pop tunes and there's a general happiness in the air. Chugging down a few beers. I grab a Hot Dog for myself and try some of the homemade Baked Beans.

Keith, the gentlemanly redneck neighbor, offers some moonshine, which usually happens anytime I'm here. I take a shot. We all gather 'round the fire. I pick up the guitar and try my best to entertain and lead us in song. A few oldies classics satisfy our vocal cords.

...

Later, Keith offers some bud. I normally don't smoke but on this occasion it's nice. I light up a few hits and enjoy the green smoke traveling inside and out. I feel a mild internal pulse in my head; the buzz is on its way. Keith catches me staring deep into the fire pit.

Keith: "It's startin' to creep up on ya itn't it?"

I smile with contentment.

...

In one moment I stare over at my dad inspecting his appearance and remembering how different he looked when I was a kid, how much he's changed and stayed the same, always attempting to rile you with a joke or smart remark with that great smile on his face.

...

Patty tries to verify my age and asks if I'm 28.

Me: "No. I'm 29."

Keith interjects, "You're scaring 30 to death!"

Me: "Yep. That's what it feels like."

"It gets better," he assures.

Me: "I'm hopeful."

...

My mind clicks on an idea to chow down on some Lay's Pickle Chips. It was a good idea.

...

The neighborly crowd begins to die out leaving Keith, my dad, Patty, Jennifer, and me to maintain the last of the fire. The radio gets shut off. And then...then I can hear the hypnotic sounds of the crickets and the night's stillness. Some brief politics are discussed and then the campers scamper off into their tents. While Keith and my dad are taking a leak at the edge of the woods I produce a few muffled fart noises with my hand over the shoulder.

"What was that?"

Jennifer and I can't stop laughing. I can hardly breathe and begin to snort.

Everybody's off to sleep now. I'm alone by the fire. I can hear the faint abrasive sound of a dog barking miles away. The yell echoes through the woods, drenched in a natural reverb. It's a beautiful and peaceful feeling sitting here by myself. After 20 minutes I start to hear the rumble of my dad's snores in competition with Keith's snores. I can't imagine Patty and Jennifer are comfortable all cooped up in that one tent. I revert to the guest room and settle down there for the night at about 3 a.m.

---

[i] All images by me.

Tuesday October 15 2013

[i]

Waking up at 1:25 p.m.

Cinnamon Bagel with Vegan Cream Cheese. Orange Juice.

I pack up into the car and start my drive to Goldsboro, North Carolina. My dad really wanted me to come to his house and camp out in the background with his neighbors. I occupy myself at the wheel with an audio book: James Joyce's A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man. Turning on the radio briefly. NPR is interviewing Nash of Crosby, Stills, and Nash about his ability to still perform at an old age.

Nash: "I'm 71 years old and I don't do anything to protect my voice. I just do what I always do."

...

Stop at a gas station off I-95. I had planned to just get some hot Tea but two big pots of Boiled Peanuts catch my eye. One cup will do along with a Honey Almond Granola Bar.

...

Anytime I go on this 3-hour journey to NC I'm always inspired to call my mom and catch up. She's still living in Bartow, Florida enjoying her new job as a counselor at a residential support house for troubled adults, some with autism, but most all of them have committed crimes. The woes of living expenses and bills are still a struggle sometimes but she's never been one to let that suck up her happiness. We entertain the idea of seeing each other this Christmas; I might fly down there or she might fly up here.

Arriving, I pull up into the driveway. There's my dad sipping on a can of Michelob with his classic smile and a bigger belly gut than the last time I saw him. He's 65 so I guess he's hit that point in his life where he simply wants to enjoy himself and eat as much as he wants. He just had foot surgery not too long ago and he's been stuck at home without the ability to walk very well. Joe and Keith, both of my dad's Vietnam vet neighbors, are hanging out and giving him a hard time about wanting to camp out.

He exclaims, "Just because I'm 65 doesn't mean I can't be young!"

I dig my dad's spirit. I notice a shiny new electric powered golf cart parked in the garage.

Me: "Whoa. When did you get that thing?"

Apparently, it makes his life easier and he can get around the neighborhood to see his friends. I like that my dad still has a desire to do fun things. We set up the tents together – hammering the stakes into the ground. Meanwhile, I notice impatience and bitterness and an overall quick-to-criticize attitude in my dad, mostly towards his wife. Even though I've always noticed that in the previous years it seems to have increased a little. I hope it's not him becoming senile. He's not that old yet.

...

Jennifer, my stepsister, and I take a joyride on the golf cart down the street. She's 17 now, still in 10^th grade because when she came over here from Honduras two years ago they had to set her back in school. Her English I notice has improved a lot.

Time to go into town for dinner. Every time I'm here my dad has a new ride. We all hop into his latest, him, Patty (my step mom), Jennifer, and me. I'm delegated to drive since my dad's foot doesn't allow him to. It's a Mazda crossover with a no-key ignition and equipped with a rear camera to help when reversing out of the driveway. Fancy. We sit down in a local pizza joint called Brooklyn Pizzeria with authentic New York style slices. The greasiest, cheesiest, tastiest Pizza I've had in a while. Washing it down with a Dr. Pepper. I know my stomach is gonna hate me later.

...

Back at the house. I help Jennifer with her history homework; she's learning about The Magna Carta and the crusades. I notice she's got a well-used container of Vick's Vapor Rub on the bed stand.

Me: "I love this stuff!"

Apparently, she even eats it. I didn't know you could do that. Ana also has a fascination with the stuff.

...

Later, sitting on the couch together in the guest room with Jennifer – sharing music videos on Youtube. She's really into the latest trance-dance music, some Spanish and some classic rock like Bon Jovi. I mention how I used to listen to similar styles of dance music back in the 90's. It's interesting to me how these kinds of melodic pop progressions survive through the decades; it's just a regurgitation of the same musical feelings.

...

Patty and my dad are vegging out in the living room watching whatever seems interesting on television. I show my dad pictures from my trip to Russia back in March. Sipping on Coffee and humorously debating with Jennifer about what a fruit fly is. They're flying around the fruit basket because of a few bad pears. I locate the apple cider vinegar and pour some in a tiny bowl with a dab of dish detergent to make a fruit fly catcher. 

Everyone goes to bed. It's only 11:30 p.m. and these are my perky hours of the night. I take a jog/walk around my dad's neighborhood, Mil's Manor. All the houses were built here within the last decade, owned by wealthy families, people who rose to the top of the financial food chain. This part of town and this part of America is a place the older types go to settle down, a quiet place. Oh boy, is it quiet all right. I can hear the squishing of my running shoes smash against the asphalt. No jet noise. No car noise. No city life. Just pure quiet, except for the sound of the crickets and other night creatures producing a symphony in the woods nearby. The moist air is perfect. The temperature is perfect. Everything has a mystical meditation to it.

Back inside I snack on Muscadine Grapes and a piece of Cake. Watching a few episodes of Breaking Bad then off to sleep around 3:30 a.m.

---

[i] All images by me.

Monday October 14 2013

[i]

☼ ○ ▬

There's a story of a longhaired shark-man with an addiction to drugs and alcohol. A friend and I are hanging out with this man in an apartment on the first floor. It's understood he dies alone in his room. He becomes somewhat of a legend; nobody believes he even existed.

▬ ○ ☼

Waking up super late and super well rested at 1:47 p.m.

Hot Cinnamon Oat Bran with Brown Sugar, Milk, Flax Seed, and Maca. Orange Juice.

Organizing and planning. Business.

Tuna Salad Sandwich with Lettuce and Tomato. Honey Black Tea.

Breaking Bad.

At the Rec Center. Making use of the fitness room – lifting weights – running.

Edamame. Kale and Carrot Salad. Thai Noodles. White Rolls.

It's after 10:30. Ana's here. We share our reflections of the day and previous days. I wanted her to try these Almond Pillow Cookies, part of the massive amount of food donations Skipp brought us yesterday. She has a funny way of pronouncing the word "almond". She always says owl-mund. And I always make fun of her. I make sure to write on the box, "ANA'S OWL-MUND COOKIES".

...

I rig my laptop under the roof of the loft bed with a broken electric cord and put on The Great Gatsby (2013) so we can watch it comfortably on our backs. I finished the book but she hasn't really started. So the plan was for us to have different experiences. She shall watch the film adaptation first then read it, and I the other way around. Baz Luhrmann, the director, offers everything I'd expect with a Moulin Rouge-like over stylization genre mixing 20's jazz culture with current hip-hop and pop music. The pivotal moments are captured well and with good dramatic taste. Somewhere in the middle we take an intermission and make Popcorn and Black Tea. I decided watching the movie on our backs was starting to get uncomfortable and set the laptop on the trashcan nearby. We finish the movie.

...

Afterwards I go on a count of my likes and dislikes about it, looking at some message boards on IMDB and such. I get kind of in a talky mood, but nothing too overwhelming or out of the norm for me, and mention some of the fallacies we learned about Christopher Columbus growing up, the abominable acts of violence he was responsible for when discovering the Americas and how he's inadvertently responsible for the slave trade.  

Me: "I mean it's just so amazing to me how all these things we learned in school we later find out isn't true...at all! This country was founded on slavery and imperialism!"

There's a noticeable disinterest in Ana. Maybe all the philosophizing and all the critical thinking just rubbed her the wrong way. She mentions something about not wanting to talk about movies after watching them. But she doesn't mind listening to me. She just feels like I expect her to debate with me. I try my best to understand.

I make sure she knows, "The only thing I expect from you is to be yourself."

She just didn't feel comfortable and for some reason it triggered some hidden fears of inadequacy.

Pertaining to a text she sent me yesterday about how she felt like herself at Busch Gardens I comment, "So apparently the only time you can be yourself is if I take you to Busch Gardens."

The mood teeters on light-hearted and critical.

...

Her: "That's what I was talking about when I said What am I doing with my life?"

Me: "Wait, so you were thinking about the obstacles in your life in that moment on the roller coaster?"

Her: "Yeah."

Me: "It reminded you of all the obstacles in your life, that fear of roller coasters. And when you were done with the ride you felt hopeful."

...

After brushing our teeth together, something happens. She wraps herself up in her fuzzy gray sweater, puts on her shoes, and straps on her black bag.

"I wanna go," she announces

Me: "Huh? What do you mean? Did I say something?"

Without forcing I try to convince her to tell me what's going on inside her head. As we continue in discussion a deeper more personal side of Ana is unfolded to me, a side I was forbidden to know before, and maybe still forbidden to know as she's reluctant to offer clarity but still gives me the clues necessary to understand her private battles to greatness. She struggles like all of us in our 20-somethings, and at any age I suppose, to feel adequate in society and to not waste precious time with these...these distractions that hinder us from being ultimately happy. As well she's afraid to get closer to me.

...

I notice during our conversation she slipped off her right shoe but leaving the left shoe on.

Me: "You're just like Nick Caraway looking out from the window at himself on the street. You're within and without."

Her: "I don't ever want to be a burden to you."

Me: "You're never a burden. You do nothing but brighten my life."

She protests with a smile, "How can that be true?"

Me: "Brightness doesn't mean all positive energy. It just means you're alive. Sometimes we need encouraging. That's what I'm here for."

She smiles. She always has the ability to smile despite anxious situations. She walks over and leans into me. I embrace her. She stays.

While she sleeps I reflect. My beard is real itchy so I take a shower. Around 5 a.m. I slip under the covers next to her. She immediately clamors onto me, like she always does when I get in bed, and caresses me with eagerness. It's been a while since we had sex but now the plague is over.

---

[i] Fitzgerald quote from The Great Gatsby.

Sunday October 13 2013

[i]

Waking up at 11:15 a.m.

Cinnamon Raisin Bagel with Vegan Cream Cheese. Orange Juice.

All day shift at China Wok.

Ana uses China Wok as a rendezvous point for her and Leah. She's wearing a black and white striped dress and still rocking the braided pigtails, very reminiscent of Wednesday Addams from Addams Family. It's very charming.

I comment, "I'm gonna start calling you Ana Addams. Or Khrizzia Addams!" 

Almond Granola Bar.

Egg Drop Soup. Edamame Crackers. Banana. Apricots.

Snacking on a Chocolate Chocolate Chip Cupcake that Ana baked and gave me earlier.

Cecily messed up big time. She cooked two orders of crab rangoon even though I wrote two shrimp egg rolls on the ticket. The customer called back and of course I have to drive the egg rolls back. And this customer lives quite far. Whatever. I take it upon myself to reward my mouth with the unwanted crab rangoon on the drive back.

Finally off work and back home.

Broccoli and Rice in Brown Sauce.

Breaking Bad.

Sleep at an earlier hour than usual.

---

[i] Braided Pigtails Addams. Source unknown.

Saturday October 12 2013

[i]

Waking up reluctantly at 11 a.m.

Honey Bunches of Oats with Brown Sugar and Milk. Apple.

All day shift at China Wok.

I didn't realize it but I guess the cleaning chemicals I was using to clean the sinks at the restaurant caused a swelling and soreness in my throat. It might be my lymph nodes. I sip on hot Tea with Honey to help soothe.

Ana finally woke up and left the house. She accompanies me on a few runs. Her hair's still fixed up in braided pigtails and she's wearing a sleeveless sweater in what she says is her favorite color, some kind of Shamrock green I guess. Normally she's adorned in black.

It's not very difficult to make her laugh. In fact, it's super easy. I comment in the car, "It makes me happy when you're laughing. It makes me happy to know you're entertained."

Ana: "There's so many things to laugh at all the time."

Edamame Crackers. Egg Drop Soup. Trail Mix. Banana.

Business picks up in a crescendo. I drive miles like they're going out of style.

Ana texts me...

"If there was any day that I could say where I could definitely be myself in front of you, then yesterday would be that day. I'm really happy to have shared the experience with you and krewwww. :D And I really appreciate that mental preparation talk before riding the Griffon! I cannot express how much of a life changing experience friday was for me...conquering my fear of heights and new thrills. I felt that I really learned a lot about myself as I was going through all those emotions on the roller coasters."

Delivering my last order of the night.

A guy answers the door, "You ain't Chinese!"

Me: "I know. It's deceiving."

I notice him and his girlfriend have some kind of anime show on.

"Well, we eatin' Chinese food and watchin' anime!" he says, insinuating that Chinese food and anime are connected in some way.

I correct him, "Well actually anime is Japanese."

Guy: "Oh is it?"

Not that I expected him to know that. How can I expect people who make comments like that to know the difference between Chinese and Japanese culture?

Back home.

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

Breaking Bad.

Sipping on a hot mixture of Water, Apple Cider Vinegar, and Honey.

Sleep 3:30 a.m.

---

[i] Walkable Roller Coaster. Heike Mutter and Ulrich Genth.

Friday October 11 2013

[i]

Waking up bright and early at 9:30 a.m. Ana and I have a big day planned ahead of us with Elliott, Michelle, William Clark, and Jon Reynolds. Busch Gardens Crew 2013!

Coffee. Almond Flax Granola Bars. Orange Juice.

After scooping up Jon Reynolds from Starbucks I stop at a 7-11 to fill up the gas tank. The credit machine at the pump didn't print out a receipt. I go inside and ask the woman clerk for one.

Me: "Yeah, it didn't even ask me."

"What's this world coming to?" she replies with a smile.

Me: "I don't know."

We're already behind schedule and of course we can't drive out of the 757 without getting trapped in bumper-to-bumper traffic at the Bridge-Tunnel. We ooze along the interstate like molasses, entertaining ourselves with comedy radio and the laughable behavior by the neighboring motorists. One guy grooms himself thoroughly, combing his hair with focus and trimming off arm hair with nail clippers. An hour or so later we exceed speeds past 55 miles per hour again.

Arriving at Busch Gardens. Fueling up with Peanut Butter Sandwiches.

Waiting in line for our very first roller coaster of the day: Apollo's Chariot. And by waiting I mean no waiting hardly at all, just a few minutes. Because one of the theme colors is purple we joke about how this ride is an extension of my car and how there should be a Chinese food themed roller coaster with big chopsticks as harnesses, the smell of Chinese food spraying around the track, and fried rice getting thrown at you towards the end. 

We couldn't have picked a more perfect day to come here. No sun. No rain, except for the scarce drizzle. Overcast and gloomy, the way it should be for October. No lines. No lines. No lines. We find ourselves riding coasters again and again. 

Ana is somewhat of a virgin to roller coasters, as she hasn't ridden one since she was 8 years old. But we're all determined to start a revival in her. She's willing to try every single one with our care and encouragement. The first one she was practically crying on the whole climb up and had her eyes closed most of the time. I had never heard Ana curse until today. I can't forget one desperate line that she screamed on Verbolten: "Mother fucker! What am I doing with my liiiiiiiife?" But in time an appreciation and adrenaline is instilled in her, everything open to the thrill and excitement roller coasters can bring.

After getting off Verbolten we inspect the video/photos that were taken of us during the ride at the kiosk.

Almost immediately an employee commands, "You're not allowed to take photos or videos of the screen!"

"Huh?"

He repeats himself.

Me: "Uh...why?"

Employee: "Because we want you to buy the DVD."

I look at the price on the sign: $29.99.

Me: "Sorry, that's too expensive."

At The Festhaus. Will and I drink very expensive beers while Elliott clobbers down a very big pickle. Watching an amusingly corny musical called The Casket Club in the style of a Halloween macabre.

Sharing platters and side dishes at a Smokehouse in Old France. Ribs, Chicken, Brisket, Mac n cheese, Green Beans, Fried Pickles.

I iterate to everyone, "I only eat this kind of thing like once a year."

Considering this is a Europe-themed amusement park I contemplate out loud, "Do you think they have an America-themed amusement park in Europe? Like, Oh let's go to North Dakota to ride that farm coaster."

As soon as the clock strikes six we watch as ghouls, goblins, and ghastly creatures run out behind corners and frighten passersby with fake chain saws, knives, and scare tactics for Howl-O-Scream. The whole park is littered with ghosts and jack-o-lanterns hanging in trees. Everywhere you turn there's a costumed character roaming around waiting for the right moment to scare the pants off you. One area has a deejay dressed as a demon imp with wings perched atop a graphic skull structure playing a really mediocre collection of dance music. Oh, Halloween. It's all very impressive. The nighttime falls. The fog machines create huge white clouds that make us blind when we walk through them. Multiple haunted houses and walkthroughs open up. We try out as many as we can, in between repeat roller coaster rides.

At the wheel, driving us all home. Our legs and stomachs are exhausted. While eating some Gourmet Chocolate Truffles with Ana I put on an appropriate song to represent our day.

"Oh my goodness. This is perfect."

Back home. There's miscellaneous things going on the house.

Ana crashes on the bed with contentment. I snack on Goldfish and sip on Chamomile Tea. In reflection.

---

[i] All images by me.

Thursday October 10 2013

[i]

Waking up around 1 p.m.

Honey Bunches of Oats with Brown Sugar and Milk.

Reconstructing the TV Tower downstairs because our main one is broken.

Egg Sandwich with Vegan Cheese. Goldfish. Apple.

At the Rec Center keeping it real in adult basketball. My legs are sore and I don't feel as powerful as I did last Tuesday. But I'm hustling, making the turnovers, shooting a few buckets.

Chicken-less Chicken with Peruvian Style Rice, Greens, and Carrots.

Downstairs with Josh, Kevin, and Ana enjoying Twilight Zone episodes on the TV's.

Kevin: "Sleep is for the dead."

In bed with Ana. General snuggling and fun conversation.

Sleep around 3 a.m.

---

[i] Image by me.

Wednesday October 9 2013

[i]

Waking up around 12:40 p.m.

Strawberry Toaster Pastries. Orange Juice.

Breaking Bad.

Running errands in a windy rainstorm.

Grilled Cheese with Hummus and Tomato. Goldfish Crackers. Honey Peach Green Tea.

Despite the pouring rain the Rec Center is flourishing. I make use of the fitness room for ab workouts. Then, I throw some hoops in the gym. A few 4-on-4 games are coordinated. There's an older white dude with an adopted son from China. This guy is too hilarious, a big talker.

"Y'all move like a Nintendo game!" he exclaims.

Settling down back at home. Sipping on a Mango Kombucha Tea.

Tilapia with Onions, Greens, Carrots, and Rice.

Breaking Bad.

Fiddling with the guitar – learning some new songs.

I was convinced Trader Joe's might have some good dumpster goodies tonight but to Sasha and I's dismay the only thing we scored were sunflowers and cucumber dip. But the bagels are plentiful at the bagel place across the street. We fill up our black crates to the brim.

Snacking on a Peanut Butter Pumpkin Bagel.

Sleep 4 a.m.

---

[i] Muideen Ogunmola.

Tuesday October 8 2013

[i]

☼ ○ ▬

Attending a youth camp convention reunion in Roanoke, Virginia. As a teenager I've been here many times before in waking life. All the buildings and people look familiar. I just want to explore. But I can't. I have to take part in the congregation. They're almost done setting up the sound system and organizing the event. All of a sudden the ground starts to shake violently. An earthquake? Yes, an earthquake. Fixtures on the ceiling of the tabernacle threaten to fall. I take cover inside my car and invite the friends around me to do the same. Something about this whole scene seems a little otherworldly, something alien. Just as I'm starting to have this realization I'm taken to another perspective. Now I'm in a spaceship standing with a crew on the patio of our ship. We're looking down at our destination on this desolate desert-like planet. I see an ominous black pyramid with dark purple hues. It's understood this is where the youth camp reunion is taking place. Our spaceship is in descent for landing.

We're in the middle of discussing something relevant to a story we heard and I shout out the name of the author of a book I remember, "Kat Koontz! That's his name."

The ship is getting very close to contact with the ground.

I question, "Shouldn’t we be strapped inside or something?"

A man reassures, "No. The magnetic field will keep us still."

We land calmly and immediately start driving towards the pyramid. A few regular looking automobiles follow us as if they were law enforcers or protectors of some kind. I don't even know what our intentions are. Are we meant to break up this convention? Or are we here to join and study it? We just keep making our way towards the shadowy purple pyramid...

▬ ○ ☼

Waking up to a semi eerie sound coming through the vents. Somebody must have music playing in the room over. It matches the theme and mood of the dream I just woke up from.

Baked Cinnamon Brown Sugar Grapefruit. Peanut Butter Toast. Orange Juice.

Breaking Bad.

Research. Reading.

Exercising.

Japanese Style Fried Rice with Edamame Cakes and Honey Green Tea.

At the Rec Center for adult basketball. Two hours of hustling. I'm the only scrawny white kid on the court but that doesn't mean a thing. Making about 30% of the points. It's a good workout.

Apple.

Anthony, Josh, and Lesia all hop into my car and we drive into Norfolk to clips of comedy on the radio and then jazz music just as we enter into the city. At Tortilla West out by the harbor. It's a little bit of a friend reunion, at least for me as I don't go out often. James Graves, Ken, Will, Jes, Skippy, Ana, and few others. Stuffing ourselves with an unlimited supply of Chips & Salsa, beers, and 75-cent Tacos. The conversations shift on various topics. What identifies a liar. The thin line between sarcasm and truth. Science and its accuracy in film. The future of space exploration and the colonization of other planets. The usefulness in asteroid mining. Ken recognizes the interesting lighting in the bathroom above the mirror and how strange one looks through it. Photo opportunity.

[ii]

On the drive home with Leisa, Anthony, and Josh. Nobody can stop talking about the phenomenon that is Kevin Moore.

Ana: "I admire your warm and open demeanor. You really look like you're shining when you speak. I saw it when I was watching and listening to the conversation between you and Lesia and even the conversations between you and Will. You have a light glow. I think it's your aura!"

Sleep around 4 a.m.

---

[i] Geometric Series. Gaétan Weltzer. 
[ii] Image by me.

Monday October 7 2013

[i]

Waking up at 11:15 a.m.

Strawberry Toaster Pastries. Orange Juice.

All day shift at China Wok.

It's a slow one.

Egg Salad Sandwich with Tomato. Veggie & Flax Seed Tortilla Chips with Hummus. Honey Green Tea.

In the restaurant on the down time. The girls are sitting in their chairs eating a late lunch. A lady walks by with her gaze fixed on something scurrying near the ground. All of a sudden I hear Cecily gasp. A cute little mouse runs inside and hides in the corner. Of course, to Cecily and the family there's nothing cute or innocent about this mouse. It's simply something to cause "trouble". Ling and I take brooms and in the style of a hockey game try to sweep the little guy outside. Ling isn't the least bit interested in it's safety as much as I am. He slides the tables and throws the chairs across the room with haste. Eventually, I manage to sweep the mouse out the door. He frantically runs along the bottom of the brick wall and almost gets inside the FedEx office next door. He disappears underneath the sliding door.

Clobbering those No-Bake Chocolate Peanut Butter Cookies Sasha and Ana made last night.

It starts raining heavily. The orders pick up and my car keeps on all night.

Mango Greek Yogurt.

Off work and back home.

Vegetable Lo Mein.

Watching Breaking Bad.

I hear commotion out in the hallway, people making disgusted reactions to something, the kind you might make when you see a rotting bat carcass. Oh wait, that's exactly what was found in our hamper. Dammit, Richie Howard. About a month ago I found a bat at the beach. We brought it back and put it in the freezer for the time being. A few weeks back it was known that Richie, with a nonsensical inspiration (the kind not unusual for him to have) decided to hide it somewhere in the house without telling anyone a clue. Oh goodness, the smell. We clean up and so another senseless prank gets written into the history books of 1435.

Sleep 4 a.m.

---

[i] Batman is Dead. Image source unknown.

Sunday October 6 2013

[i]

☼ ○ ▬

A woman is being scorned by a hotheaded critic of sorts. He iterates that she keeps a secret and it becomes her identity, controlling her life.

I try to argue, "Look man, just because she identifies with a secret that she keeps doesn't mean it's her whole identity!"

▬ ○ ☼

Waking up around 11:30 a.m. Ana had gotten up multiple times throughout the night. Apparently her period this month has reached terribly uncomfortable heights. I recall one moment of her frantically crawling out of bed and stumbling onto the carpeted cat tower in route to the bathroom. I feel sympathy for her. She's lying on her stomach now. I wrap my arm around with care and tell her she can sleep as long as she wants. I whisper, "I hope you feel better."

Cinnamon Raisin Bagel with Vegan Cream Cheese. Orange Juice.

All day shift at China Wok.

My boss is not thrilled about the warm October weather. He says its 88 degrees today.

Sundays, and especially Sunday this month, are designed for the Chinese food delivery business. It's nothing but a steady flow of orders.

Brief stop at the house for lunch. Ana is still here. I brought her some hot and sour soup. Eating an Egg Salad Sandwich with Tomato Salt n Vinegar Chips, and Honey Green Tea. I get the call from my boss, "You coming back?"

My China Wok haze continues.

Banana.

Ana's still hanging around the house. She had asked me through text if she could read one of the books from my shelf.

Ana: "Being in your room...laying on your carpet...in my corner...reading...with the fan blowing is so peaceful."

Strawberry Greek Yogurt.

Some of my deliveries are a little far away but it's not such an annoyance today because the tips are generous and I'm allotted plenty of time to finish The Great Gatsby audio book. Fitzgerald's words are absolute brilliance.

Off work and back home.

Ana's still here. Her and Sasha baked together, well non-baked that is because the recipe was No Bake Chocolate Oatmeal Cookies. I nibble one and how splendid they turned out.

I mention how positive of a day I had and the topic of how important it is to keep a positive attitude in life.

She says something kind of funny in regards to it, "Yeah. Open up your face."

"Open up your face?" I question what she meant, "You mean like this?" I take both my hands to press down on my cheeks and pull the skin back as much as I can.

She laughs. But I knew what she really meant. In her own unique understanding she meant that it is important to keep your face (your eyes, your hears, your breathing orifices) open as opposed to closed off and reserved.

Me: "I can't wait to have a kid cause I'm gonna use that on them. Whenever they're having a bad day or something I'll be like, 'Okay, let's open up our face!' 'Do I really have to?' 'Yes! C'mon. Do it with me.' Then they'll start laughing and it'll make them feel better."

She leaves me be for the night.

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

Watching Breaking Bad.

Ana texts me, "Remember the second time I came back into bed this morning and told you what was wrong and how I was feeling? Well after that happened, you really made me feel warm when you put your left arm around me. I really felt like you genuinely cared, and it was very sweet of you. It was a small sweet moment. I'm not sure if you hear me tell you that you were sweet."

She adds, "You're such a good person."

Eating up those no-bake goods.

It's pretty late. I run downstairs to check the thermostat and discover Kevin and Sasha smooching in the kitchen. They must be drunk.

To Kevin I say, "Taking advantage of the roommates I see."

They both smile embarrassingly.

Kevin retorts with a mischievous face, "I don't know what you're talking about."

Sleep 4 a.m.

---

[i] Face the Whole. Daehyun Kim.

Saturday October 5 2013

[i]

☼ ○ ▬

In a recording studio with Dave Grohl. He's being sort of uncommunicative and elusive. I'm not even sure if I'm supposed to be here. I take a restroom break and discover something wrong with the toilet. It's utterly disgusting – dirty toilet water dripping down the sides and into crevices in the floor. It's a foul scene.

▬ ○ ☼

Waking up around 12:30 p.m.

Honey Bunches of Oats with Brown Sugar, Banana, and Milk.

Breaking Bad. Research.

Peanut Butter Toast with Celery and Honey Blueberry Green Tea.

Painting my clay flowerpot for the cactus I bought yesterday.

At the neighborhood gym running a few miles.

Fuji Apple.

At The Jewish Mother in Hilltop for the [re]create art show in conjunction with a suicide/depression awareness program. This place is like Virginia Beach's NorVa. Ladada is scheduled to play. It'll be our first performance with this project. While Logan Vath serenades everyone I analyze the collection of artwork on display, most everything is superior work. Calum, Josiah, and I get up there to perform; it runs smoothly for the most part except for the newer songs we haven't really structured yet. I grab a few Coors Light from the green room and sit down at a table with Ana, Leisa, Calum, Josiah, Bianca, Stephanie (she just got back from a 40-day adventure in Norway), and some dude with big hair and a big smile. The headlining band, The Gloom, pumps out yelling kind of melodic horror punk but without the horror fashion; their onstage antics are a little cheeky. The guy on the synthesizer also has a theremin. Whenever he uses it he puts on a maniacal face. Meanwhile, Ana and I split Tuna Lettuce Wraps with Pita/Bagel Chips and Guacamole. After all the bands they set up four canvases on stage and delegate two artists per canvas, having them switch sides every ten minutes to collaborate on the picture.

Back home. With Ana doing a few chores including taking out the trash and repotting the cactus. She mentions how strange it is that her period is synced with a lot of her girlfriends.

In one moment I embrace her while she takes off a layer of clothes. She accepts it. I reach my hand down her backside but she lightly moves my hand away.

Me: "What? I like to caress my hands on your curves."

She responds with something about not having enough curves.

Me: "Oh yes! You definitely have curves. At least you don't have curbs. Nobody likes those."

Sipping on Cinnamon Tea.

Sleep at 3:11 a.m.

---

[i] All images by me.

Friday October 4 2013

[i]

Forgotten dreams.

Getting out of bed around 12:45 p.m.

Cinnamon Raisin Bagel with Vegan Cream Cheese. Orange Juice.

I take my time at the Atlantic Garden Center off First Colonial in search for the perfect cactus. I settle on a medium sized Red-Headed Irishman (Rubrispina). Brief stop at Trader Joe's for some groceries.

At home. Researching plants and how to take care of a cactus.

Egg Sandwich with Mayonnaise and Tomato. Salt n Vinegar Chips. Aloe Vera Drink.

I'm not usually a big fan of TV shows and I'm also not one to latch onto a hype bandwagon but Breaking Bad came up on Netflix and I figured it would be harmless to give it a shot. After watching the first episode I can see why it's gotten such positive critical acclaim.

Practice at the storage unit with Calum and Josiah. Playing through songs and working out a set for tomorrow's show.

Honey Crisp Apple.

Pumpkin Black Bean Risotto with Mixed Greens, Carrots, and a Sour Dough Baguette.

Watching Breaking Bad.

James and Ana are hanging out in Josh/Sasha's bedroom. Sasha raves on about some bacon fest at The Scope this weekend. Ana skims through this book on Zen. James lies on his stomach on Sasha's bed. Eventually we migrate outside. I light up an old cigarello I found in the house.

James: "You can pick your friends. You can pick your nose. But you can't pick your friend's nose."

...

James takes off. Ana and I take a walk through the neighborhood and across the street to peek into the bagel dumpsters. We discover one of those leaf grasshoppers on the ground.

She can't seem to finish describing this dream she had the other night. I don't know why; too many environmental things distracting her. And when explaining her holistic healing experience she won't tell me what the healer pointed out in her, a burden of fear or something. This frustrates me slightly that Ana hesitates to open up to me. I know she's afraid to get close and spill her guts out but I know she trusts me. I let it be though.

...

She accompanies me to the Trader Joe's dumpsters. We find a few salads, hummus, eggs, and a bushel of mini pumpkin trees, which we decorate around the house.

Coconut Water.

Sleep 5 a.m.

---

[i] All images by me.

Thursday October 3 2013

[i]

Heavy, heavy dreams full of rich details and scenarios. All that alcohol I drank the night before kept me sedated and locked into a sweet dream world.

Downstairs, sharing with Ana bowls of Hot Cinnamon Oat Bran with Brown Sugar, Maca, Flax Seed, and Milk. Drinking this Booze Tea that's been in the pantry for a while now.

Ana drives me to pick up my car at the shop. Then, we drop Sasha off in Croatan for her nanny job.

Back home. Making a light lunch for us: Egg Salad Sandwich, Salad with Vegan Cheese, Veggie and Flax Seed Tortilla Chips with Hummus. Orange Juice.

I notice something a little off, her face a little more solemn. I ask if she's okay. And she really is. Its just a part of her personality to give off this look of indifference sometimes. She said she realized how stressed out she was when we drove back to the house. I guess something happened at her holistic healing appointment yesterday that brought to light some issues with fear.

"I don't like being vulnerable," she exclaims. And then with a smile adds, "Especially around you!"

Me: "But it's okay to be vulnerable around people you trust."

She hugs me before she leaves.

Her: "I don't wanna get too close to you."

With a smirk I respond, "I don't know what makes you think you'll be able to control that."

Ana bursts out with laughter.

At the Rec Center for organized basketball. Compared to last time where I made about 80% of my shots I feel dissatisfied with my game play; this time I'm missing 80% of my shots. Whenever I'm shooting around by myself it's easy as pie but it's hard to focus under pressure.

Grilled Salmon with Onions, Carrots, String Beans, and Rice. Red Wine.

Watching Europa Report (2013).

Research.

Sleep around 3 a.m.

---

[i] Europa Report image.

Wednesday October 2 2013

[i]

Waking up around 11:30 a.m. I don't really want to but I have to have a conversation with my mechanic to give him permission to complete repairs on my car.

Cinnamon Raisin Bagel with Vegan Cream Cheese. Papaya. Orange Juice.

At the table Darren and Sasha discuss ideal qualities in mates and sexual partners.

Research.

Biking to The Escape, our neighborhood gym off Birdneck. They just renovated the whole place, adding more fitness equipment, repainting, etc. I make use of the treadmill and run 2 miles.

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

At the storage unit with Josiah and Calum practicing songs for a Ladada show we have this Saturday. We come up with new progressions and melodies but we can never seem to get past the first stage of structuring a song. Sometimes I feel these sessions get a bit dull because they both gulp back a six-pack of Miller High Life and it creates this kind of let's do whatever we feel like attitude. I don't feel like we're tight enough as a band yet to perform. But it'll come together next practice I hope.

We all reconvene at the house. Ana just finished baking Vegan Chocolate Chocolate Chip Cupcakes for the party. James is baking Chocolate Chip Cookies. I'm baking these Vegan Crab Cakes I found in the freezer for dinner. Adding a Salad mix to make it complete.

Caravanning to Art's birthday party at the Russian's new place off Oceana Blvd. I haven't seen Art in about three months. He, along with all his other friends, is pleased to see us. He offers me a Heineken and to partake in any of the hors d'oeuvres. Dance tunes blaring on the TV. Beer pong balls flung across the table into cups of water. Singing and laughter in the backyard. I'm encouraged to lead on the guitar. Ana accompanies me with her beautiful voice. Creep, Island in the Sun, Proud Mary, All I Have to Do Is Dream, etc. I'm practically forced into taking shots of whiskey and rum. My heart rate increases. My excitement heightens. Running around the room. Shaking my limbs. Competitive rounds of beer pong with Art and whomever. One Russian girl, but more Siberian looking, learns how to play real fast. Ana and I laugh at her funny little demeanor. She keeps saying things like, "Dammit!" and "Do it!" in a thick accent. There's a black and gray striped cat named Archie roaming around chasing the pong ball whenever it is dropped. What a fun atmosphere to be drunk in. It's nice to get away from my house and let go at someone else's. It's a liberating feeling.

Back at the house. Some of the other roommates have been doing some of their own drinking. I witness a wrestling match between Josh and Kevin.

In the bedroom with Ana. I immediately plop right down on the bed with relief. The alcohol in my body has sedated me. She changes into her black petal shorts and clamors on top of me. A heated sex session begins. It lasts a while. Moments of ecstasy seem to make us feel enlightened.

Sleep at some late hour.

---

[i] Image by me.

Tuesday October 1 2013

[i]

☼ ○ ▬

With Elliott and a man we just met. We're about to go on a joy ride with motorcycles. I saddle myself onto an old moped with a kick-start lever. I pretend to know what I'm doing, which turns out well because I start it up no problem. We rev up the motors and zip down the boardwalk at the oceanfront. I'm having difficulty maneuvering around the tourists and passersby. We pass a card table where you can play quick-handed poker with buy-ins as cheap as $5. Why not? I give it a go. 

▬ ○ ☼

Waking up kind of late at 11:17 a.m.

Vanilla Greek Yogurt with Oranges.

All day shift at China Wok.

On the down time today's research involves the pros and cons of microwaves. So many conflicting articles I'm finding. Nothing's conclusive. All I can find are opinions. Sometimes the only thing you can trust is intuition.

Egg Wrap with Tomatoes and Mayonnaise. Veggie and Flax Seed Tortilla Chips with Hummus. Honey Green Tea.

Business picks up, but not so dramatically. The miles rack up for me. And it's one of those days where orders are ready as soon as I arrive at the restaurant making my time behind the wheel an almost all day endeavor.

Listening to The Great Gatsby audio book on my iPod while facing the grotesque traffic conditions on the road. I've always been aware of how much time I spend in the car and decided recently I would no longer waste it staring blankly and angrily through the windshield without being productive in some way. Audio books can do the trick at distracting me from mundane-ness.

"It occurred to me that there was no difference between men, in intelligence or race, so profound as the difference between the sick and the well."

"But I am slow-thinking and full of interior rules that act as brakes on my desires."

Delivering an order to Sir George Circle out in Kings Grant, a location that should be considered too far for us to deliver but they're a regular customer and I don't mind seeing Joanne Truitt's sprightly face. As I inspect the pretty green flourishing plants on her doorstep she mentions something about a guest finally leaving after 5 weeks. Apparently they were allergic to garlic and she's humorously thrilled to be ordering a China Wok dish with garlic sauce now. We exchange a hug like we always do and I'm off.

At the restaurant the daughters are running around with their backpacks on without a clue what to do, at least anything constructive. They've been working on homework assignments ever since they got off from school. And now the angst energy is high.

Off work and back home.

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

Watching Shadow Dancer (2012).

Everybody's hanging out. Josh, Sasha, Kevin, Ana, Leah, even Darren waltzes in unannounced all the way from Radford.

Dropping my car off at the shop overnight. Then taking the long route home on my bike while listening to the Gatsby audio book.

Cinnamon Toast Crunch.

Before I hop in the shower I look into the mirror and give my belly a good inspection. I'm shocked. It's bigger than I recall. I can see its pot belly future if I don't start running more often, or stop eating cereal or something. I remember telling Ana the other day that I made a commitment to never let myself go like that, that I would stay healthy and fit well into my 30's, 40's, 50's, and so on. I brood in the shower.

Sleep 5 a.m.  

---

[i] The Great Gatsby book cover fleece.