Tuesday April 12 2011

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

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

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

Business.

Google work.

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

Watching Once Upon a Time in America [1984].

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

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

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

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

Jamil is back from New York!

Google work.

Power napping.

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

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

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

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

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

Newspaper route.

Coast to Coast AM.

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

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

“You just bit a fart out of me!”

More Google work.

Snacking on Goldfish and Chocolate.

Watching that movie.

Sleep 8 a.m.

Monday April 11 2011

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

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

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

Google work.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Newspaper route.

Drinking Iced Coffee.

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

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

Settling down.

Sleep 7:30 a.m.

Sunday April 10 2011

Waking up at 5:30 p.m.

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

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

Lunch: Grilled Cheese with Tomato.

Google work.

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

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

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

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

Anthony insists on joining me on the paper route.

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

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

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

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

Anthony: “It’s more rewarding.”

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

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

Coast to Coast on the radio.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Saturday April 9 2011

Waking up at 5:30 p.m.

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

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

Google Work.

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

Watching Boyz N the Hood [1991].

Prepping to move—organizing stuff into boxes.

Eating a Banana and an Apricot Fruit Strip.

Counting quarters.

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

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

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

Man, I love this girl. She satisfies me.

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

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

Lounging on the bed—sharing music while I eat.

Newspaper route.

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

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

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

Snacking on Popcorn and Goldfish.

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

Joining my baby in bed 9 a.m.

Friday April 8 2011

Waking up just before 6 p.m.

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

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

Google work.

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

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

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

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

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

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

I can’t resist a little lovemaking.

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

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

Recording scratch guitar and vocal tracks at the storage unit.

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

Watching Revenge [1990].

Google work.

Back to the unit for recording.

Stretching—crunches.

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

Watching the movie.

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

Sleep 10 a.m.

Thursday April 7 2011

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

Waking up around 5 p.m.

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

Musicplayer practice.

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

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

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

Google work.

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

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

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

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

Back home. Power napping.

Newspaper route.

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

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

Google work.

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

More Google work.

Business.

Meeting with a local mortgage broker.

Sleep 10 a.m.

Wednesday April 6 2011

Waking up at 4:30 p.m.

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

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

Work at China Wok.

Text from the queen:

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

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

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

Researching how to file taxes as an independent contractor.

The Parking Lot Movie [2010].

Basketball with the boyz—playing a game of knockout.

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

Me: “How many?”

Anthony: “Four.”

Eating Grapes and Blueberry Yogurt.

Researching.

Napping.

Newspaper route.

Snacking on Goldfish.

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

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

Watching Empire [2002].

Cleaning up—doing dishes.

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

Playing some piano at the storage unit.

Bank stuff.

Sleep 10 a.m.

Tuesday April 5 2011

Waking up just before 4 p.m.

Breakfast: Cherrios with Brown Sugar.

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

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

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

Running errands.

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

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

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

Feeling a little overwhelmed with adult shit.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Margot’s in my room.

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

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

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

Her: “I’m getting naked!”

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

Newspaper route.

Snacking on Goldfish, Ginger Chews, and a Banana.

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

Eating an Egg with Garlic Bread and a Salad.

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

Counting quarters.

Business.

Sleep 8:45 a.m.

Monday April 4 2011

Waking up just before 5 p.m.

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

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

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

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

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

Eating a few amazing slices of Pizza with a Budweiser.

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

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

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

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

Eating some Strawberry Yogurt.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Business and scheduling.

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

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

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

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

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

Newspaper route.

Drinking Iced Coffee with Brown Sugar and Milk.

Eating Salmon and Rice with a Salad.

Cleaning and organizing the kitchen.

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

Random rainfall at 7 a.m.

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

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

Sleep 8:30 a.m.

Sunday April 3 2011

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

Waking just after 4:30 p.m.

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

Work at China Wok.

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

Me: “Really? Who are you?”

Him: “I’m David.”

He shakes my hand.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Google work.

Dark Chocolate Peanut Butter Cups.

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

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

Her: “So are you my boyfriend?”

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

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

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

Dinner: Udon Noodles with Mixed Vegetables.

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

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

Newspaper route.

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

Google work.

Practicing songs at the storage unit.

Popcorn and Chocolate.

Watching The Parking Lot Movie [2010].

Sleep 9:30 a.m.

Saturday April 2 2011

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

Waking up around 4:30 p.m.

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

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

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

“I LOVE you so much so much!

You’re so cute.

Be mine 4evah.

Ok?

[heart]

Margot

XOXO”

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

Work at China Wok—a fruitful shift for sure.

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

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

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

Me: “Kenneth, you weirdo!”

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

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

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

Finishing Red Road [2008].

Google work.

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

Having a slice of Pizza.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Newspaper route.

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

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

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

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

More Google work.

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

Sleep 8:30 a.m.

Friday April 1 2011

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

Breakfast: Orange Juice. Banana.

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

Driving to Williamsburg in the super packed station wagon.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Dropping the dudes off.

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

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

Dinner: Pizza Al Pollo Asado with a Carrot.

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

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

Newspaper route.

Eating a Blueberry Donut and Milk from 7-11.

Coast to Coast AM—open lines.

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

Google work.

Popcorn and Chocolate.

Watching Red Road [2006].

More Google work.

Sleep 8:30 a.m.

Thursday March 31 2011

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

Going to the bank together.

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

She’s off to work.

Her: “I love you forever.”

Me: “Wow. That’s big.”

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

Practicing with the band at the storage unit.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Newspaper route.

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

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

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

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

Watching Red Road [2006].

Business.

Sleep 9:30 a.m.

Wednesday March 30 2011

DREAM: Someone informs me the world is going to end in the year 2011. As we’re walking along the sidewalk I see behind a fence in a vast field an army of creatures or monster-like people marching with intent to follow us. We make our way around the corner—they’re gaze is fixed on my path. I run…

Waking up sometime after 5:30 p.m. alone.

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

Work at China Wok.

Lunch: Chicken Salad Sandwich. Salt n Vinegar Chips. Honey Green Tea. Apricot Mango Yogurt.

Kevin is moving his mattresses and stuff into the house—helping him with that. Approaching Kenneth in the backyard shed (his lair) for some rope. I’m stuck listening to his rantings about his sister and other junk.

Listening to Rachel over the phone.

Rachel: “It was like the icing on the inconsiderate cake…”

Organizing music.

Visiting the queen at work—I bring her a pretty flower—an expression of excitement on her face. We almost witness a bar fight come to surface between two agro drunk dudes—one of them slams a wooden chair into the floor. None of it makes any sense, but since when does inebriation bring any kind of sense to anyone.

Chatting with her about how our days went. She looks so happy.

She pops out a question, “So am I your girlfriend now?”

Both of us smiling. I’m thinking to myself, Well, that’s up to you. You’re the one who tried to leave me for a mistake. Did you really think I’d let you go that easily? Did you really think you could escape from me? And here we are. I’m gaining the upper hand again—letting you feel the pangs of desire and longing. To love and be loved in return is all I wanted. It’s all you wanted. It’s all anyone ever wants. Is this really happening? Do you really want to reclaim your rightful place as queen? Shall we rebuild this kingdom?

Me: “You know the only reluctance I have is you not trusting me and making me feel guilty. As well, I want to trust you. We have to give each other a clean slate. We have to trust one another. Trust comes with love.”

I don’t want you to see the ghosts of my past anymore. And I don’t want to see yours. I want you to see me as I am right now in front of you. The present “me” is strong and wise and full of affection for you like you’ve never known. I’m a Leo. I know how to be loyal and your life will always be interesting.

Dinner: Two Eggs with Polenta Provencale. Carrot. Fresh Garlic Bread. Chocolate.

Newspaper route.

Coast to Coast AM—discussing clairvoyance and the power of the mind (mentalism).

Sipping on a beer and changing guitar strings. I hate changing guitar strings. But these new pink luminescent ones are pretty cool (thanks Margot).

Eating a bowl of Cherrios with Strawberries and Brown Sugar.

Practicing songs at the storage unit.

Sleep 9:30 a.m.

Tuesday March 29 2011

Waking up at 6 p.m.

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

Business.

Liquidating the house—organizing the attic—moving all my old keepsakes and things to make room for a few people moving up there.

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

James stops by. Sitting on the couch sifting through an art history book—Josiah puts on Blink 182’s Dude Ranch album (he’s really stoked about it: “All these songs are classic!”)

Mab and Jordan stop by—sharing wine with Aladdin on the TV.

Eating Strawberry Yogurt.

Showering—the queen calls me for a ride from Poon’s (her friend turned 21 and hired a party bus for the night). I’m here to serve. She’s slap silly drunk. I’ve got her in the passenger seat—listening to her stories—bar narratives about this guy and that girl and that drink and that place.

Passing the corner of Birdneck and VB Blvd…

Her: “Is Channelo’s open?!! I want pizza!”

We pull up and she discovers her credit card is missing—of course it’s the end of the world now—yelling and crying and demanding.

Her: “Where is my card?! Where is my…WHERE IS MY CAAAARD?!”

I try to be as patient as a sober boyfriend can be, but she’s thoroughly upset and her mood has reached maximum height. Attempting to ignore the parts where she lashes out on the person she cares about the most. I call the bank and we cancel the card. I grab the pizza and we jet back to my place despite all the insistent I want to go home!’s and I want my car now!’s.

In my room—chowing down on a few slices. She’s talking like a little kid…

Her: “I love pizzaaaaa!”

Lying down together in the freshly prepared futon bed I made earlier today. It’s a little bigger than the twin size mattress I’ve used ever since I was a little kid. I had a hunch you would be sleeping here tonight. Kissing—she’s whispering I love you’s. Getting on top of me—pleasure for both of us. Her sounds are more elaborative than in a sober state. You feel amazing. It doesn’t take much for me even though I try to endure as long as I can.

I’ve got the hype machine playing on the computer—Nancy Sinatra’s “Bang Bang” song starts up, a dubstep remix. Singing softly into my ear as we stand there grooving to the music, Bang bang, he shot me down. Bang bang, I hit the ground. Bang bang, that awful sound. Bang bang, my baby shot me down. I love that breathy tone in her voice. It’s such a turn-on that shoots straight through my body.

I lay her down in the bed.

Her: “Don’t go. Stay with me forever.”

Newspaper route.

Eating a little Pecan Tart Pie with Milk.

Coast to Coast AM—discussing Bigfoot: the latest findings and the validity of eye witness accounts.

Arriving back home—my baby is rustling in the bed—awakening. I tend to her and lie down for a little bit. She doesn’t remember having sex earlier but she remembers eating pizza.

That hot heat reverberates off her whole being—soft bare legs—cozier than a teddy bear. I love this energy. I want to be close—as close as I can get. Squeezing as hard as I can is the best I can do—imagining my body melting into her body. A little sex from behind—in no way would it be considered a quickie but invigorating nonetheless.

Me: “Thanks for the endorphins, honey.”

I head out of the house with a little green pack geared up with my ipod and her car keys with intent to jog to Harpoon Larry’s and drive her car back here. It’s a beautiful 3 mile trek as the sun is rising—listening to newly obtained jams from hype machine.

Dinner: Egg with a Salad and Fresh Garlic Naan Bread. Chocolate

Whiskey.

Joining her in the sack. 9:11 a.m.

Monday March 28 2011

6 p.m. waking up.

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

Work at China Wok.

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

Anthony, soon to be one of our attic dwellers, stops by—hanging out in the kitchen with Josiah, Rachel, and Dustin—making grilled cheeses. Anthony is inquiring about Kenneth—all of us sharing our own personal and entertaining experiences with him.

"Improvise, adapt, overcome, be self sefficent. MAke power plays!" –Kenneth

Juggling some lemons in my hands—“This is an example of a power play!”

A nice 30-minute chat with Margot on the phone.

Her: “I know. I feel dumb that I’ve seen you everyday for awhiiiiile and I still don’t want a day away.”

Recently, we’ve been treating each other like boyfriend and girlfriend—it’s always been this way. I feel satisfied. I feel needed. But I’m not singing any songs yet until I got a ring on my finger! Ha. Well, you know what I mean. It’s been nice at least to not have to write these distressing novella blog entries about rejection. I fought. And I’m still fighting for her love. The more presence I give her the more response I’m going to get. I will have her heart. She will have mine. She always claims to get what she wants. Well, honey, I get what I want too. And what I want is you.

Practicing songs at the storage unit.

Dinner: Eggs and Rice with Onions and Mixed Vegetables. String Beans. Fresh Garlic Bread.

Sharing some of the string beans and garlic bread with Dustin and Josiah. Rachel refuses to try anything. Josh and her are on the other couch exemplifying how they’re in a zoo.

Newspaper route.

Eating Pecan Tart Pie with Milk.

Coast to Coast AM.

Counting quarters.

Downloading music.

Eating a bowl of Cherrios with Strawberries and Brown Sugar.

Finishing Gummo [1997].

Sleep 9:30 a.m.

Sunday March 27 2011

DREAM: Something strange and catastrophic has happened to the world. I’m walking down a wide road—groups of people scattered everywhere—I see bloody bullet wounds on certain people as I pass them. No longer human—somewhat zombified—something has taken control of everyone’s mind. It’s understood that Walt Disney is the culprit behind it—like each person represents a memory in his life. The cops are working for him and they’re road blocking the streets. I’ve hooked up with a rebel group—trying to get past all this mayhem. We make it safely past a gate into a quarantined neighborhood or facility. We’ve been spotted. I jump up onto the roof of a house—attempting to hide and lay low behind the roofing and chimney walls. A woman cop follows me seeming to have the same ability of high jumping as I do. I float myself up higher into the trees just as she reaches out….

Actually getting out of bed at 6:07 p.m. I’m late.

Breakfast: Orange Juice. Strawberries. Zinc.

I got a text from Margot sent at 11:11 am: “I LOVE YOU”

Work at China Wok.

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

Rachel: "Hahah i just sneezed and my dad just went into a 55 minute rant about the 1623 flu."

Getting the queen some Chinese food from my restaurant, Gen Tso’s Chicken and Crab Rangoon. I deliver free of charge but “I expect a big tip from you!”

Sitting on the couch, she crawls up and plops herself on top of me—kisses.

Me: “You’re like a mermaid you just popped up to me.”

In a mischievous playful tone she says, “I’m thinking something that I can’t say out loud yet.”

Me: “Huh? What is it?

Her: “I can’t tell you!”

Me: “What?”

Her: “I can’t tell you yet.”

Me: “You can’t bring that up and not say it.”

Her: “I love you.”

Me: “You already said that.”

Her: “I just had a moment.”

Me: “Why can’t you tell me?”

Her: “It’s kind of embarrassing. I feel kind of weird saying it. I just had a love moment.”

Me: “Yeah.”

Her: “I was just thinking that I want to marry you.”

Me: “Aww.”

Searching for a movie on Netflix to put on. We settle on The Fall [2006].

Lying my head in her bosom. She pauses the movie at some point with sexual intentions. Mmm. I adore every cell on your body.

Sex. Making love. Fucking. Whatever you want to call it.

Me: “You’re so good. You satisfy me. You’re incredible.”

Her: “I love you.”

Me: “I love you too.”

Finishing the movie—the colors of the film, visually stunning—just as beautiful as I remember.

Tucking her into bed—leopard print bed sheets. She’s so cute—lovely.

Me: “I’m turning this light off. Good night.”

A heightened awareness of beauty is often confused with lust. I want to conceive a baby, not at a time when baggage and blemishes are relevant, but at a time when I have a heightened awareness of the unavoidable beauty.

Back home. Josiah, Josh, and a girl named Carly are on the couch singing songs.

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

Newspaper route.

Coast to Coast Radio—discussing UFO organizations.

Eating a Bowtie Donut with Milk from 7-11.

Chores.

Popcorn. Hershey’s Bar.

Watching Fish Tank.

Music.

Chores.

Sleep 9:30 a.m.

Saturday March 26 2011

DREAM: Playing a roulette style board game—a circular image printed onto the board, resembles a dartboard design. There’s about 10 players, some people I know, one of whom is the mental character from the movie Sling Blade (Billy Bob Thornton). The blue chips are moved along with every turn. I’m not sure how the game is played exactly…

Dragging myself out of bed sometime after 6 p.m.

Work at China Wok—Frustrated—5-mile orders are a waste of time.

I’ve got my mail with me, bills mostly. Nonchalantly looking through them in the car—insurance premium is higher now because of some stupid failure to yield violation.

I walk into the house—people are hanging out in the kitchen.

Someone asks, “How was your day?”

“Sucked!”

“Why did it suck?”

“The usual human crisis: money.”

Figuring out bills. Business. Money.

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

Starting a British gritty drama called Fish Tank [2009].

The kids brought back goodies from the dumpster.

I put on Gummo [1997] in the living room. The kids lounge on the couch while I stretch and exercise.

Taken from Wikipedia: {Korine comments on the film's pop-aesthetic, saying: "America is all about this recycling, this interpretation of pop. I want you to see these kids wearing Bone Thugs & Harmony t-shirts and Metallica hats - this almost schizophrenic identification with popular imagery. If you think about, that's how people relate to each other these days, through these images."}

Eating Blueberry Yogurt.

Margot calls me randomly while she’s at Poon’s, something about how she doesn’t like the people that are there, apparently Les’s friends. After I start inquiring more she hangs up the phone because she’s surrounded by people. On my on volition, I drive down there to see if she’s okay or maybe she might need a ride. Her eyes are wet and she’s been drinking—I can tell something’s wrong. I drive us back to her house—on the way I discover the more complex issues going on. She’s still battered from what happened with Les—feeling used and whatnot. It’s a strange thing because here I am, the one who she rejected first because of this guy—I’ve moved past what happened between them—Yet there’s still something she’s dealing with from it.

In the den, on her couch. The conversation isn’t even worth quoting. She’s not herself—not necessarily drunk but still a little inebriated, flustered, and emotional. I’m being as nice as I can be, but she’s saying incredibly mean and insensitive things to me. It’s nothing unusual in this kind of state she’s in. At any rate, eventually I leave on a softer note after finally getting her down to my level of affection.

I don’t believe the truth comes out when you’re drunk. In my experience, it’s bullshit that comes out, insecurities, fears, it’s more of an enhancer to whatever mood you’re already in. In the queen’s case, it was negative. There are no inhibitions. And any conflicting thoughts that are embedded in the mind will come out more easily. I see it all the time, not just with Margot, but other friends. It’s really upsetting to observe. Sometimes, entertaining, but mostly unnerving.

Here’s a good Yahoo Answers discussion on the topic:

http://answers.yahoo.com/question/index?qid=20070926081029AALrhN8

Newspaper route.

Coast to Coast Radio—an entertaining yet intelligent look on the effects of a possible Zombie Apocalypse and how we could adapt from surviving one.

Eating Dried Figs, some Ginger Chews, and a Blueberry Muffin with some Milk from 7-11.

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

Counting quarters—listening to the hype machine.

It’s after 8:30. Back to Margot’s to give her a ride to work. In the bathroom—fresh after-shower smell—I watch her blow dry and fix her hair. She’s so beautiful. I tell her this.

Back to my bed. Sleep around 9:45 a.m.

Friday March 25 2011

Last night the queen calls me right before I’m about to settle down into bed—she requests I come over and sleep in her bed instead. Geez. Of course. Even though I just drove out that way to drop her off to her car, I comply because I like the idea of sleeping next to her warm reverberating body.

DREAM: I arrive at the newspaper plant. As I roll the cart of yesterdays up the ramp, some lady that works there explains the room I usually collect papers in has moved. I get frustrated because it’s understood in my mind that things have been different all day and this is just one more thorn in my side. “So where am I supposed to go? Why is everything different today?” I lug my cart over to this other room that is dubbed “The Return Room” (for the newspaper returns). I approach Debbie, the supervisor, and ask, “Is this the return room?” I drop off my cart of papers and walk back outside to my car. Anna (Russian friend I met a few summers ago) is standing there—she’s a boss or something. Feeling an awkward affection towards her. I lift her arm up to my nose intending to kiss but only take a whiff as if beauty had a scent, which it does. Then, I walk away.

Margot wakes me up just before 5 p.m. She’s blow-drying her hair in the bathroom—Wrapping my arms around her chest and watch as she combs and fixes up her hair.

I head back to my house.

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

Ken and Emily are here to shoot some scenes from their film, In Passing.

I play a small role as a dude named Alonzo hanging out at Show N Tell who introduces his self and a friend to Emily, who plays a girl named Lauren. Shooting the scene in the attic—doing many takes. Part of the shot involves me lighting up a clove cigarette, which I have to do like 10 times, going through almost 4 in a row. Despite having never acted in a movie before, it felt natural—we did a lot of improvisation.

Making Grilled Cheeses for everyone—eating one with Tomato and Salt n Vinegar Chips, Honey Green Tea.

Emily makes mention to me about the Dark Chocolate Peanut Butter Cups from Trader Joe’s. This thing is the new craze apparently. I love them. They’ve even sold out.

SHOW N TELL THE MOVIE

It’s a packed house with a slew of unique presentations from dance moves to song performances to comedy to random banter.

Louis is intrigued with the squishy sound a carrot makes when it penetrates the inside of a lemon. I coerce him and Josh to eat really thick raw cloves of garlic. Rachel is a witness.

Eating leftover Spaghetti with Marinara Sauce, Onions, and Peppers. A Carrot. Garlic Bread.

There’s a small dispute with a police officer about the noise—as well, he was looking for a girl in particular. It’s an awkward situation as he trots into the house by my side catching a glimpse of all the innocent madness going on everywhere—the Folk the System gang jamming on guitars—people dancing and being rowdy. Everybody shuts up at the sight of him. He leaves shortly after giving me a warning about alcohol being visible on the porch and such (the usual cop confrontation).

Just across the street from the Wawa nearby, a semi-truck trailer caught fire—17-foot flames! After seeing Kenneth’s van running nearby, Wesley’s convinced he had something to do with it, which isn’t the case but Kenneth sure did get some good photos.

Rachel tags along with me on the newspaper route.

At the plant—the paper truck is running late—she’s documenting my work through photos:http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=280428&id=709546229&saved#!/album.php?fbid=10150114369491230&id=709546229&aid=280428

Me: “There’s all these subtle behavior signals that people give each other, even if it’s unintentional, just being alone with somebody opens up the door for some kind of intimate connection, not even just romantically. And there’s something special about that. And most people recognize that and take advantage of that. I mean why not.”

Looking back at the fresh pile of newspapers, she says, “We have tomorrow. No, we have today!”

Sniffing my fingers I reply, “I think I smell like garlic…and newspapers. That’s such a good combination of smells.”

Rachel: “Garlic and newspapers!”

Rachel: “I did a lot of avoiding tonight.”

Listening to random call-ins on Coast to Coast Radio with eyewitness accounts of Bigfoot.

Stop at 7-11 to get a Bowtie Donut and Milk.

Rachel: “I feel like I’m going to walk in on you eating a garlic donut one day.”

I drop her off halfway through the route.

Eating two Fried Eggs over Medium and a Hershey’s Bar.

Leaving the car at the shop.

Sleep 9:45 a.m.