Sunday December 15 2013

[i]

Waking up to a mild thunder and downpour. It's cold in this guest room but I'm cozy warm under the sheets.

Mom makes me Scrambled Egg, Grits, Honey Biscuits, Orange Juice.

We were supposed to attend church this morning but I guess we woke up too late. Instead, mom and I drive into quaint downtown Bartow. All the stores are closed except for a few bail bond offices. This is the kind of town that closes down on Sundays. Everyone's at home relaxing and recognizing the Sabbath. Mom shows me a beautiful park by a lake called Mary Holland Park. Analyzing the wildlife and interesting plants – colonies of lizards scurry under the dried up palm leaves – big birds with long beaks making strange croaking noises – tiny stumps resembling a community of lovers – The Spanish moss looks like bits of old people hair draped over the trees.

Almonds, Cashews, and Craisins. Fiberful Peanut Butter Chocolate Granola Bar. Apple.

We scoop up Myra from the house and drive to another park about 30 miles out with plans to go fishing. On the pier over the lake – the herons and other birds alike crowd on the mini islands nearby – the armored catfish splash consistently on the surface of the water – every now and then it's easy to mistake a log for an alligator. We cast our lines and wait patiently for the fish to bite. I smoke a Black & Mild to pass the time. After two hours, no luck. Dusk comes and the park officers drive by to inform us the park is closing. 

Back at the house. Mom prepares dinner for us: Tilapia, Homemade Mac n Cheese, and a hefty Salad. Afterwards, the three of us take a night walk in the neighborhood to admire the Christmas decorations.

My mom and Myra head off to bed quite early as Myra has to work in the morning and mom is driving her to Tampa, and then of course driving me to the airport in the afternoon. I listen to them laugh with each other behind the bedroom door. After the conversation with my mom the night before I am convinced she is happy, even as unconventional as this relationship may seem to our Christian upbringing. She never would've thought in a million years she'd be in a relationship with a woman but I know it's where she feels God wants her to be. It's a beautiful story and I'm proud of her.

...

I resign on the lanai in the back. It's slightly chilly out tonight but I stay warm with a cup of Black Tea and those fancy powdered donuts, Pfeffernusse Cookies. I sit for a while looking at the plethora of aloe vera plants, wall decorations of stained glass butterflies and dragonflies, painted metal lizards, lighthouses, and little pictures written with inspirational words. My mother, always surrounding herself with pretty things, cute things that make you feel warm inside. I meditate deeply into the unbreakable bond I have with her. I'm grateful I had a mother that I could respect and actually learn wisdom from. As much as I'm her son we are also best friends now. 

Sleep at 2 a.m.

---

[i] All images by me.

Saturday December 14 2013

[i]

☼ ○ ▬

I'm commanded to drive a truck into a building and so I do. I jump out just in time as it breaks through a window pane and drowns into a waterway under the building. Unbeknownst to me a colossal octo-pod sea creature is hiding in the water. I've disturbed him. I can see a pair of green eyes glow with rage in the dark water. I run as fast as I can keeping an eye behind me, watching as the creature swings it's powerful gargantuan tentacles up along the building demolishing it brick by brick. I dart into the forest and jump into air, flailing my arms and flying as high as I can. The monster's tentacles grow and grow just as fast as I elevate, far, far into the atmosphere and into space.

▬ ○ ☼

Waking up around noon. My mom left a note on this yellow notepad paper she never seems to run out of. It says she went out to the store and to call her when I get up. But she's just arriving.

Breakfast with mom and Myra at the table: Honey Biscuits and Coffee.

My mom recalls me requiring her to butter my biscuits and dinner rolls when I was a kid. She used to joke that when I got married my line would be, "To have and to hold and to butter my roll!"

Mom and I drive into town to meet Jimmy at a diner in Lake Wales. I order a Tuna Melt with Fries, Jimmy orders a Pork Chop Sandwich with Fries, and mom orders a Salad. Jimmy catches up my mom on the comings and goings related to the church group they used to attend together. He seems natural and social, genuinely happy, like he's found his place in life. He's even lost weight, but kind of involuntarily because of the sugar levels he has to watch.

When discussing friends of theirs having health problems and getting sick, I mention somewhat sarcastically, "Well, have they been on Obamacare's marketplace website yet?"

Jimmy's eyes freeze up and he responds, "He can go take that and shove it where the sun don't shine."

[Ha-ha-ha]

Mom and I drive into the old downtown district of Lake Wales in search of any antique and thrift shops open. We find one run by a bright talkative lady. I overhear her tell a customer about a person dressed up as Santa walk into a Wal-Mart and spend over thousands of dollars paying off stranger's layaway accounts. I browse the store and collect anything I find interesting: a few records, a Diana Ross 8-track, a threaded picture of a purple lady, and some vintage playing cards.

In the car on the way home. Catching views of palm trees and interesting houses. My mom mentions her problem of being a perfectionist and always wanting to have control. I realize I share the same vice. Like mother, like son.

Back at the house. Exercising with my mom in the living room. Then preparing dinner together: Barbecue Garlic Salmon with Vegetable Medley, Tomatoes, and Rice. We enjoy the delicious meal with Myra. She still gives off this vibe of being careful not to intervene between us because she knows I only have a limited amount of time with my mom. But I'm hoping to get to know Myra a little bit considering she's been established as my mom's partner this past year.

After dinner, my mom and I sit down at the piano – digging through songbooks and letting our voices harmonize. I found an old notebook of my mom's when she used to sing in the family band back in the 70's. She sings for me acapella, songs like Helen Reddy's "Keep on Singing", Creedence Clearwater's "Proud Mary", and Elvis Presley's "Help Me Make It Through the Night". There's a special warmness to my mother's voice that will always soothe my soul.

While mom spends a little time in the bedroom with Myra I put on running shoes I brought and take a jog around the neighborhood. I can't get enough of this Floridian air – the perfect temperature.

Back inside. I settle down on the lanai where mom's colony of plants reside. She joins me. While enjoying Coffee with Pfeffernusse Cookies we engage in deep discussion and reflection on the big changes in her life this year, the falling out between her and Jimmy, and the newfound relationship that formed with Myra...

Her: "It was crazy, out of nowhere. No matter what happens I just believe Myra and I will be together. I mean we're really good for each other; we sharpen each other. She really loves me and I really love her. It's weird...to me. It's totally crazy cause I've certainly never been in this situation. I've never even had an inkling to be in a relationship with a woman."

In regards to our Christian and spiritual backgrounds my mom still fears it isn't right, biblically.

Me: "But it's right for you. I think it's a personal journey. I think if you really look at the New Testament there is nowhere that Jesus says anything about homosexuality. And don't you think if it was that important wouldn't he have taught something about it?"

Her: "Where Myra and I are right now...both of us have a desire to serve God. Both of us have the desire to search out the word of God, the communication with God...just being in a quiet place and hearing from him. We were already friends; we were spiritual friends!" 

Earlier this year she had already told me about these changes going on so I was prepared before I came. But it's good to hear her describe her heart to me now.

Sleep around 3 a.m.

---

[i] Images by me.

Friday December 13 2013

[i]

Waking up around 12:30 p.m.

Honey Bunches of Oats with Almond Milk. Orange Grapefruit Juice.

Meeting Ana at her house in Norfolk. She gives me a ride to the Newport News airport.

Ana: "Sometimes I feel like I wanna cut off my hair. It's like my best friend and my enemy at the same time."

I turn on 790AM talk radio with Rush Limbaugh. He's reading out a list that Forbes Magazine just released called Mentally Strong People: The 13 Things They Avoid, "Mentally tough people don't give up after failure! Mentally tough people don't fear alone time. Mentally tough people enjoy and even treasure the time they spend alone!"

I raise my hand to Ana, "High-five to mentally tough people! That's me and you right there."

...

At the airport. She waits with me before I go through the security/gate entrance. Over in a secluded area we do ab exercises together. She steps on my feet as I pump out 25 curls. We hug and kiss goodbye.

I wait by gate B1. The sun is setting through the glass pane windows. The fairly small terminal is littered with people just waiting. Waiting. Hurry up and wait, the motto of any experienced traveler. Three kids perch themselves by the window and point out all the actions of the flaggers outside.

"Look! She's blowing her whistle!"

I fill myself up with lunch: Banana. Almond, Cashews, and Dried Cranberries. Popped Potato Chips. Raspberry Lemonade.

Our plane is apparently delayed by an hour. The guy manning the kiosk declares through the PA system that it will be "open seating", meaning first come first serve. This causes every single one of us to swarm up in line. Luckily, I was already waiting close by. People are upset they aren't going to get the seats they paid for. I overhear someone joke with another about there being no first class on this plane. "It's all cattle class!" We all pile into the plane. I try to locate the calmest seating situation I can. I choose a window seat next to a very quiet and reserved Asian man. Impatience and anticipation fills the compressed air. The plane still isn't taking off just yet. For some reason the flight attendants keep walking up and down the aisle doing a head count. A group of newly acquainted strangers behind me laugh at the absurdity of our scenario. One of them is a hick comedian.

"I'm gon' miss my lobster dinner at 8:30!" 

"Y'all done had some egg nog before y'all got on board!"

Eventually, we take off. I keep my nose into Anne Frank in hopes I can finish before we land. Snacking on some Ginger Chews. It's hard not to doze off for a few minutes. My feet are freezing.

...

I arrive in Orlando. Outside of baggage claim I spot the silver GMC. My mom smiles so big it makes her tear up. She let her hair grow natural silver gray. She's wearing a green Ninja Turtles t-shirt. Everything about her is still youthful even at 57. Myra is driving; she's my mom's new best friend, or life partner shall we say. They've been living together this past year. It's a little over an hour and a half drive from the airport to Bartow. Sharing Apples.

When trying to figure out the directions my mom recognizes familiar territory and says, "We're where we know where we are." The on the spot alliteration is uncanny.

We make it home. My mom whips up a small makeshift dinner for me in the kitchen with leftover Red Beans and Rice, Onions, Carrots, Egg, and Bread. I watch her cook underneath the big sign above the door that reads, "Live Life Well And Love With A Pure Heart". I always thought that was appropriate for my mother. She does have a pure heart. And I love her for that.

Myra seems to be a little shy, or I guess she's just being careful to allow time with my mom. Late into the night I catch up with my mom. Finding old music books in the piano bench along with an old score sheet from a piano recital I performed when I was 15. Reminiscing to music like Etta James, The Crickets, and Patsy Cline on the computer. I show her a few modern bands like Vampire Weekend that could match up to the oldie style. History repeats itself in music. 

Sipping on Tea and snacking on Animal Crackers.

I settle down on the air mattress in the guest bedroom that my mom covered with a blanket that says Showers of Blessings. She never failed to provide showers of blessings to me in my life.

---

[i] Images by me.

Thursday December 12 2013

[i]

Waking up at 10:45 a.m.

Honey Bunches of Oats with Almond Milk.

All day shift at China Wok.

It's a brute 26 degrees out. Luckily, the sun helps alleviate the cold.

Popped Potato Chips. Honey Green Tea.

It's a slow workday – taking one order at a time.

Dark Chocolate Peanut Butter Cups.

Ana visits. She's wearing workout clothes and her hair is tied up in pigtails (or horsetails as I've dubbed them to be considering how thick and long her hair is).

Me: "You look very cute today."

I enjoy having her in my car while I deliver because it distracts me from my usual concerns. Time passes more quickly and sweetly.

Apple.

Off work and back home.

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

Finishing Munich (2005).

Washing clothes and packing for my trip to Florida tomorrow to see my mom.

Sleep 3 a.m.

---

[i] Darcy the Hedgehog. Source unknown.

Wednesday December 11 2013

[i]

Waking up bright and early at 8 a.m. My windshield and windows are caked in morning frost – 30 degrees outside. I spend a few minutes warming up the car and scraping the ice off.

Coffee with Honey and Cream. Vanilla Almond Granola Bar. Banana.

I'm on time sitting in courtroom B at the General District Court of Virginia Beach. A few months back I got three parking tickets for my 4x8 trailer being in a fire lane in the cul-de-sac of my neighborhood. The fines all together amounted to $240. So I'm here to contest them. I wait patiently in the wooden pews and watch case after case, all of which are much more serious offenses than mine. One girl breaks into tears as she pleads with the judge regarding a D.U.I. I watch one guy put in handcuffs for driving on a suspended license; he had many other issues on his driving record but his jail time is only four nights. Still, how embarrassing and shameful that must feel. Despite, the woman judge has an empathetic side and is more than generous to those who are honest and genuine. My heart rate is pulsing higher that usual. Even though I'm prepared to argue my case, I'm praying the officer that issued my citations isn't present. I keep scanning the badges of the men and women in blue to make sure. So far so good. After an hour and a half my name is finally called and I approach the bench. The officer is recognized as a no-show. My case is dismissed and that's that. I walk out of the court in a triumphant mood.

Earlier I received a few texts from Ana before I woke up at 4:38 a.m.

"I want you...I crave you. I feel that it's as if I have been in hibernation...And then my flow started...Well the flow is coming to an end and so is this hibernation."

I respond, "I like it when you're assertive. It turns me on. In other news: I won my court case today because the officer didn't show up therefore my case was dismissed. So I'm feeling triumphant. And sex goes very well with victory."

Her: "My body is ripe and ready to celebrate your victory."

Back home. I've been given extra waking hours today so I plan to make use of them. Tweaking my car and doing things around the house.

Peanut Butter Bagel. Popped Potato Chips. Grapefruit Orange Juice.

Watching Munich (2005).

Giving my guitar fresh new strings.

Nap.

Strawberry Greek Yogurt.

At The Rec Center working out. Then, basketball. I get engaged in a few games with two white guys my age and a kid. I get nicknamed "The Sniper" after dropping buckets left and right. One is named Ali. We run plays and have small talk about where we grew up, where we went to school, music tastes, etc.

Egg, Brown Rice, Cauliflower, Carrots, Mushrooms, Tomatoes, and Sourdough Bread.

At the storage unit practicing songs on the guitar. I notice by peeking through tiny holes in the thin sheet metal walls I have a new neighbor. I can see a bed, a mini-fridge, a fold-up card table with food, a space heater, etc. I notice a small collection of shoes, too. I guess people are living here now. I hear a guy pull up to the garage door. He's here now. Instead of making it awkward by not communicating I say hello...

Me: "Hey new neighbor."

He chuckles and says hello back.

Me: "I hope I don't bother you too much. I'll be practicing for another hour or so."

Guy: "Oh you're fine. You're fine. What kind of music you play?"

Me: "Right now I'm just playing folk and covers."

Guy: "That's cool."

I continue practicing. He doesn't make much noise as I assume he's preparing for bed but after the first few songs he compliments me with a "Goddamn!"

...

Later Ana shows up. We sing through our usual songs. Sipping on a Peroni Beer to soothe the vocal cords.

Back at the house. There's commotion in the dining room. Kevin is being questioned about the new girl in his life becoming super defensive with how fast the relationship is forming.

I try to squash his insecurities, "Kevin, are you happy?"

Kevin: "Yes."

Me: "Then why are you acting so defensive? You have no reason to feel embarrassed because you're happy."

...

Ana and I mingle in the bed, cuddling, and being playful. I turn to her, "So are you gonna seduce me?"

She laughs. Eventually, I spoon her from behind with sexual intensity – ecstasy and delight in the dark.

Sleep shortly after 3 a.m.

---

[i] Trip Hop. Image source unknown.

Tuesday December 10 2013

[i]

Waking up around 1:30 p.m.

Frosted Shredded Wheat with Almond Milk.

Digesting news and articles and music on the Internet.

Bagel Grilled Cheese with Tomato. Popped Potato Chips. Banana. Honey Black Tea with Grapefruit Juice.

Basketball at The Rec.

Salmon with Cauliflower, Baby Broccoli, Mushrooms, Onions, Carrots, and Brown Rice.

Watching Enemy of the State (1998).

Just vegging out and preparing for my court case tomorrow.

Maple Leaf Cookies.

Sleep 3 a.m.

---

[i] From Enemy of the State (1998).

Monday December 9 2013

[i]

☼ ○ ▬

In a sanctuary in some random Russian city. People are waiting for the show to start. I'm responsible to set up the sound system. There's a lot of trouble when I find out they've only got two XLR cables and only one microphone is working on stage. The piano player and guitar player aren't even plugged in. The whole situation is stressful.

▬ ○ ☼

Waking up at 1:12 p.m.

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

Errands.

Grilled Cheese with Tomato. Popped Potato Chips. Maple Leaf Cookies. Honey Green Tea.

Exercising and lifting weights.

I decide to check out the Seatack Rec Center off Birdneck Road since the Great Neck one I know doesn't have the gym open for basketball. There, I find a bunch of kids throwing the ball around. I get my kicks on – playing a little 1-on-1.

Kale Salad with Carrots, Tomatoes, Cranberries, Arugula, and Dinner Rolls.

Watching Salinger (2013).

At the storage unit. Ana meets me here. I turn on the PA system and plug in my guitar; we sing and practice songs together – working on a new cover, "The Funeral" by Band of Horses. I still feel I'm a little bossy and harsh when we practice. After every take she walks over to the futon couch and relaxes. She mentions she's just not used to practicing songs over and over again like this. I am but she's not. She understands it's necessary cause in the end we'll flow through music so naturally.

Back at the house. Sharing Maple Leaf Cookies. I sip on a Peroni Beer as we watch things on Youtube. Later, in bed settling down underneath the covers I encourage her to read a 3-page letter she composed for me that was meant to help gather her concerns and thoughts all in one piece. Of course, she's hesitant as she glances over her writing. She thinks it's silly and has too many words. I assure her I desperately want to hear what she has to say. I keep pushing for her to just read it. This was the plan to begin with. Eventually, she allows me to read it out loud. Her handwriting is a mix of print and cursive so sometimes she has to help me decipher a few words here and there. I really respect her desire to be constructive in this relationship, to seek solutions to problems. Her heart is genuine and without vanity, something that I think is hard to find in people.

Zzzzz.

---

[i] Amy Judd.

Sunday December 8 2013

[i]

Waking up at 11:25 a.m.

Honey Bunches of Oats with Almond Milk.

All day shift at China Wok.

It's a dreary cold windy rainy day. But there's rain-appropriate music on 89.5 FM: smooth piano-driven jazz.

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

Rush Limbaugh on the radio: "I'm the mayor of Real-ville!"

It's busy all day long. Never spending much time at the restaurant; just driving non-stop. But little by little I realize I'm being dealt the shittiest hand for the second day in a row. Stiffs and tips in the low numbers. I just can't understand the logic behind the way some of these customers think. It's pure ignorance. Thankfully, I reap a few good tips here and there. Some decent people still exist in the world.

Apple.

At some point a beautiful guitar song comes on the radio and truly saves me from insanity...

Edamame Cracker Thins.

After I cash out I have to take two last orders, one of them is an address for 666 Cavalier Drive. I couldn't believe it. If elevators at the oceanfront won't permit a 13^th floor then how does this city allow a 666 address?

I knock on the door to the Devil's house in fancy Bay Colony. This kid in fancy black-framed glasses and a red Miami Heat shirt comes out.

"Is the tip included?" he asks.

Me: "Oh. No. That's up to you."

He marks in a $10 tip. Wow. And there you go. My redemption has come, and ironically not from the heavens. Ha. But I still consider it a blessing. And if that wasn't enough I deliver the last and final order to The Mayflower and receive another $10 tip. The guy concluded with, "Thanks for the trouble of coming out here." I really have no room to complain about today...at all.

Back home.

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

Watching 1492: Conquest of Paradise (1992).

Filling up on Dark Chocolate Peanut Butter Cups.

At one point while bringing dirty dishes to the kitchen I decide to bother Kevin. I'm told his new lady friend is in there with him. Just outside his bedroom door I pester him, "Kevin? I need to talk to you about something important."

Kevin: "Go away!"

Me: "Wait, are you naked right now?"

I peer through the crack of the door and catch a glimpse of my answer.

Kevin: "No. I'm not naked!"

Me: "But I can see your penis through the crack."

Sleep 4:30 a.m.

---

[i] Images by me.

Saturday December 7 2013

[i]

Waking up around 11 a.m.

Cinnamon Raisin Bagel with Vegan Cream Cheese. Orange Juice.

At China Wok. Little do I know I'm about to embark on a long and strenuous journey into delivery driver madness.

It's non-stop all through lunch – delivering one order after the other.

I manage to pick up some French Fries with Ketchup at Five Guys for sustenance.

Today's workload might be described as a conversation without a lull, a never-ending exchange of words.

Fiberful Chocolate Peanut Butter Granola Bar.

Getting stiffed more than usual doesn't make me feel good. I find myself griping and bickering at the wheel, angry as ever. I treat the passenger seat as a punching bag hoping to release this aggression. Nothing suffices. Nobody's listening. I sing a song of bitterness to an audience of none.

There's a Christmas parade at the oceanfront blocking most of Atlantic Avenue. Luckily, I don't have to deliver anywhere in the perimeter. Apparently, one of the floats caught on fire.

It was a terrible day, but probably worse in my head than it actually was. In the end it was just another day at the Wok and I accumulated money that I did not have before today, whether or not it was enough is irrelevant. And now I'm in my room – door is locked – phone is on silent – and the decompression begins...

Vegetable Lo Mein. Dark Chocolate Peanut Butter Cups.

Watching 1492: Conquest of Paradise (1992). Even though I know it's not a completely accurate portrayal of Christopher Columbus I enjoy Ridley Scott's movies.

At some point I manage to get to sleep.

---

[i] Still from 1492: Conquest of Paradise (1992).

Friday December 6 2013

[i]

Waking up at 11 a.m.

Frosted Shredded Wheat with Almond Milk. Cranberry Juice.

All day shift at China Wok.

The temperature is in the 70's today. The 70's! In December. I'm wearing shorts and a t-shirt. Experiencing contrasting feelings – my body doesn't know what to make of it.

Egg Salad Sandwich with Tomato. Popped Potato Chips. Honey Green Tea.

I'm on the verge of a fever possibly – particular spots on my left arm feel sensitive.

The deliveries are steady – I'm kept behind the wheel for 90% of my shift. I can't get over this beautiful weather. I've got the windows down – letting all that fresh wind slap me in the face.

Enjoying the richness of a slice of Pecan Pie that Ana's mom made. Later, getting a sugar high.

Apple.

After 9 o'clock Ana appears. She tags along with me in the passenger seat. My day always gets brighter when she visits, makes the dirt and grime of the day seem more manageable.

Back home. Enjoying dinner together. I, with my Hot and Sour Soup, Broccoli, Carrots, and Rice, and her with Orange Tofu.  

...

She tinkers through Beethoven songs on the piano while I do some writing. It's not often I get to hear her tickle the ivories. I creep down the steps carefully and stand behind the stairwell wall to listen. After finishing up a section of Fur Elise, she notices me and is of course embarrassed.

While taking a leak in the bathroom I hear sneaky commotion in the hallway; somebody's scheming. Josh says Kevin caused him a lot of strife today so he gathers a bowlful of frozen cranberries and tosses it in Kevin's bed while he's sleeping.

Kevin awakens abruptly and not exactly realizing what's going on commands, "Just get out. Just get out."

Sasha tried to film the incident on her phone. Even though I don't condone these kinds of pranks, or at least I wouldn't commit ones of such a caliber unless I truly felt justified in doing so, I can't help but laugh at the situation. Being entertained at the expense of another is a one of kind humor.

Later, in bed with Ana. We're preparing our bodies for sleep. She's feeling overwhelmingly uncomfortable because Aunt Flow is causing her tummy to rumble with pain. She describes the feeling as someone taking their hands and pulling apart her insides.

Me: "Gosh, that doesn't sound good. I'm sorry you don't feel good."

---

[i] Meghan Howland.

Thursday December 5 2013

[i]

☼ ○ ▬

I'm on the run inside a massive facility designed like a mall but with intricate sectors. I've managed to retreat into a loud arcade room with pinball machines and vide game machines making lots of racket; the sound of a fast-paced techno song in the background. All of a sudden the patrons around me notice my presence and start to shake their fists up and down while slowly marching towards me. I high tail it outside. It's nighttime and there's an ominous fog across the big city. I use my dream flying powers and float up onto the roof. I decide to wait it out up here. The roof is made of an elastic material with tiny holes everywhere. I peek through one of them and discover a prostitute and a man having sex. The prostitute is very beautiful. She lies on her back and catches my eye peering through the tiny hole. Startled, she screams, "Ahhhh! Oh my God! There's someone up there!"

Without thinking much about it I scram cause I know the man is infuriated. I see him moving around underneath the elastic roof. I find an opening into another room far away and climb down continuing my never-ending escape.

▬ ○ ☼

Around 8 or so in the morning we wake up to the dramatic sound of a lawnmower buzzing through the window.

Later re-awakening around 1:30 p.m.

Sharing Cinnamon Raisin Bagels with Vegan Cream Cheese and Orange Cranberry Juice.

Vacuuming. Then driving out to North Hampton Blvd to pick up a new burgundy leather couch for the living room to replace the old one.

Pear. Honey Bunches of Oats with Almond Milk. Banana.

Basketball at the Rec Center. Hustling on the courts, winning a few games and losing some. Afterwards, a lot of people dip out except for me and a few other dudes. We play a game of 21. I squandered many opportunities to finish the game. But in the end I leave satisfied.

Back home. The house is glowing with blue lights lit downstairs. Josh, Leisa, and Lo are mischievously laughing in the living room. They might be on something but I don't know what.

Me: "What's up with all this blue going on?"

Josh: "Don't disrupt it!"

Buffalo Garlic Salmon with Baby Broccoli, Mushrooms, Carrots, Onions, and Brown Rice. Peroni Beer.

Watching The Last Stand (2013).

Ana texts me some after thoughts in regards to last night, "I've been reflecting on that moment outside where I finally told you how I felt. When you asked for my hand and asked for your neck kisses and held me.. I felt safe. I know that you were telling me it's safe and secure to tell you anything when we were in your room, but you holding me really made it easier to open to you. I appreciate all that you do for me. Also, you gave me a better understanding of how I was making you feel when you used that rat maze analogy."

Washing clothes. Fiddling on the guitar. Watching basketball.

Sleep 4 a.m.

---

[i] A. Teixeira.

Wednesday December 4 2013

[i]

Waking up at 1:31 p.m.

Grapefruit. Frosted Shredded Wheat with Almond Milk.

After all these years I finally get rid of the red couch that survived the 1623 years and all the preceding years at 1435. We were all concerned there might be flea larvae embedded in the couch after Josh noticed Sophie came down with fleas yesterday after lying on the couch. We had a flea scare before and I took care of it with a good cleaning using diatomaceous earth but apparently the fleas have magical powers. I found a leather couch on Craigslist that I'll pick up tomorrow. For now I clean out the blanket corner and throw down a mixture of baking soda, salt, and lemon juice to sit over night.

Banana

Mixed Nuts and Craisins. Barbecue Popped Potato Chips. Honey Green Tea.

At the Rec Center working out and shooting hoops.

Apple.

I cook homemade Pad Thai with Carrots, Baby Broccoli, Egg, Mushrooms, and Green Onions. Ana comes over with a bottle of bubbly Muscato. We enjoy dinner together. 

...

In my room Ana and I cuddle in the bed watching a cult classic film from 1982 called Ladies and Gentlemen, the Fabulous Stains. Sharing a bag of Popcorn. After it's over, she talks with Kevin on the back patio, confiding in him about something, while I tidy up. She returns to the bedroom, grabs her bag, and announces, "I'm gonna go."

Me: "Huh? What's wrong?"

She won't tell me. I always try to keep things light and stay somewhat playful. It helps a little bit but there really is something she's hiding. I don't pry or press but I stay focused on the goal, which is to make her feel comfortable enough to talk about it. I conjure up these metaphors to describe the situation she's created.

I'm the first paragraph on the first page of a story. You're the last paragraph on the last page and in between us is all this space. I don't know the ending but you do. And I need you to fill in those gaps to bring me to where you are.

I'm a rat in a maze, a maze that you created. And this rat checks around every corner, left and right; but he can't seem to find the exit. That's because there is no exit. You built the maze with no exit! And eventually, that rat is just gonna give up trying to find it. He's going to lose interest. That maze is a problem you created. All you have to do is put in the exit.

We reconvene outside by her car. During a beautiful moment of embrace she confesses her fear of being vulnerable is what keeps her from opening up. She tears up a little. I do my best to let her know I understand and that there's nothing to be afraid of. I'm hers and she's mine. Eventually she changes her mind about leaving and we settle down in the bed. It's been a long night.

---

[i] Image by me.

Tuesday December 3 2013

[i]

Waking up around 1 p.m. to the retched sound of a chainsaw coming from the woods.

Frosted Shredded Wheat with Almond Milk. Cranberry Juice.

Errands.

Egg Salad Sandwich with Tomato. Banana. Honey Green Tea.

At the Rec Center – working out – competing in adult basketball. I'm sharp tonight, shooting buckets left and right. At one point a squabble sparks between two players over whether or not a foul was given – it turns into an obnoxious shouting match of insults. Someone gets called a "wetback". It's utterly shameful that people let their aggression get the best of them.

Apple.

Cleaning up after a hard night's play.

Enjoying a Salad (Spring Mix, Carrots, and Tomatoes). Two Cheese Slices from Chicho's.

Watching Congo (1995).

Dark Chocolate Peanut Butter Cups.

At the storage unit playing guitar – enjoying music again.

Orange Juice.

Research.

Sleep 4 a.m.

---

[i] Congo Coloring Book.

Monday December 2 2013

[i]

Waking up at 11 a.m.

Cinnamon Raisin Bagel with Vegan Cream Cheese. Orange Juice mixed with Cranberry Juice.

All day shift at China Wok.

I've continued with the absence of my laptop at work and continue to read Anne Frank on the down time.

Banana.

In the restaurant an old man using a walking cane orders shrimp with lobster sauce and egg drop soup. After enjoying his meal he approaches the counter and shouts out to the cook (Ming), "Very good!"

He asks Cecily standing nearby, "Is that the cook?"

She nods.

"Very good!" he continues. "Tǐng hǎo! Is that right? Is that how you say it?"

Cecily: "Yes."

"Tǐng hǎo!" he repeats.

He tries to strike up small talk with Cecily and shares a small wartime story, "In the war, I was on a ship near Mainland China – had to avoid getting murdered by the Japanese."

Egg Salad Sandwich with Tomato. Barbecue Popped Potato Chips. Honey Green Tea.

It's school time here at China Wok. Cecily and her sister tutor the girls in English grammar.

It's terribly slow today – I feel like I'm in a time void. The clock has never ticked by in slow motion like this in a long time. And it's so gosh-darn cold! I can't stop shivering and yawning while I cross my legs in a chair and read.

Apple.

Making about 40% less than I usually make on an ordinary busy day. But counting my losses is all I can do as days like this come every now and then.

Finally...off work and back home.

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

Researching. Lifting weights and crunches in my room.

Watching The Italian Job (2003).

Sleep 4 a.m.

---

[i] Matt Relkin.

Sunday December 1 2013

[i]

Waking up at 11:30 a.m.

Honey Bunches of Oats with Almond Milk. Grapefruit.

All day shift at China Wok.

While bagging the crunchy noodles I notice a familiar face walk in the restaurant. It's Aaron Lachman! He's with some Asian dude I don't recognize. Immediately I start chuckling directly at him. Just as I'm about to walk over and say what's up I have that uncomfortable awkward realization that it's not Aaron at all. Embarrassed, I don't say anything and turn back to what I was doing. The best doppelganger I've seen of Aaron.

Peanut Butter Bagel. Banana. Honey Green Tea.

On the down time in between the phone ringing and taking people's orders over the counter I'm able to read Anne Frank's The Diary of a Young Girl. I didn't expect this book to be so humorous. The writings of this articulate 13-year-old are entertaining even while the story unfolds during the travesties of WWII. I told Ana to read the last three paragraphs of Saturday, 7 November, 1942 of Anne Frank. Her writing resembles Frank's as it has a diary-like thoroughness and openness. Ana. Anne. Anna. Ane. Haha. Even the names have a similarity. Maybe they have shared souls.

Salt n Vinegar Chips.

While delivering I approach the intersection of First Colonial and VB Blvd. The light is green but a car is completely stopped in the right turn lane, where I wish to make a right hand turn. I come up behind them and honk the horn for a full two seconds. I'm a little annoyed. I can see through their back window the driver shoot me the finger. After we both make the turn a guy in the passenger seat starts flailing his hands in a rage out the window taunting me in such a manner that I just start laughing. He's saying stuff along the lines of, "Oh! You're such a badass," being kind of sarcastic. He doesn't take a liking to my laughing. I just wasn't expecting this extreme of a reaction. Most people might just give a few cold glares and say a few mean things behind the glass and move on. But these people are too excited and offended. At any rate we pull up to a stoplight. I decide to explain myself and roll the window down...

Me: "Sorry. Didn't mean to get pissy back there but the light was green."

The dude responds, "I know but my girlfriend was trying to figure out where to go—"

The girlfriend at the wheel interrupts in a defiant yell, "I WAS TRYING TO FIGURE OUT DIRECTIONS!"

Our light turns green and I conclude as they storm off, "Oh. I'm sorry. I didn't know!"

Sometimes we forget how alarming and insulting a car horn sounds to people. If I knew their situation I might've only tapped lightly on the horn. But I didn't. And that's the point here; everybody is blind to other's situations on the road. There's a wall in traffic that blocks us from empathy. This is why road rage exists.

I get an order out to Brandon Road in Bay Colony where my ex-girlfriend Margot's grandma lives and where Margot used to live. I have countless memories of time spent together with her in the den. Temptation. Love. Sex. Anger. In my imagination I surrender to these mini time traveling episodes where she would come to me with that seductive look in her eye begging for ecstasy. I don't dwell on these thoughts for too long. But sometimes they feel important to mention. Even though she is far, far from my life now I still have my moments.

Off work and back home.

Hot and Sour Soup with Broccoli, Carrots, Rice, and a Spring Roll.

Downstairs, a casual bunch is lounging in the living room. I gather Ken and James into the kitchen for us to measure our beards that we've been growing from scratch since November 1^st. Even with the tape measure our findings are inconclusive. But we allow Sasha to judge on the fullest looking beard at least. James takes the trophy.

Peach Greek Yogurt.

Watching The Iceman (2013).

Sleep 4 a.m.

---

[i] Image by me.